#COME CONQUER THE WORLD WITH US -I Uh

[noturglameow]

Gods I love the sillys... Never even played pokemon... Don't know shit abt these fellas... But I love em sm RIIAFJJAJAJDJ

Mod Ronks: AAAAAA!!! G-gang feeling the love!!!!! I'm so glad you enjoy the galactic dweebs, Anon...They most certainly enjoy being out there wrecking their havoc, too! :'D

(📝 Team Galactic Propaganda successfully delivered. Report to Leader for a millisecond nod of Approval & a Potential raise.)

[ckret2]

I'm not sure if I should ask because the Axolotl arc isn't over yet, so it could still be explained in story, but, if it won't and you're willing...I want that Vendor backstory.

i can't think of a way or reason to explain it in the story, so sure, we'll explain it here.

So here was my thought process. Giant vending machine that vends planets. That has to come from somewhere, right? THEY could have a magical/divine origin, that's common for gods, but like... since THEY're a machine... wouldn't it make sense if someone built THEM?

Who would build a vending machine the size of a small star?

Why would a culture need a machine that stores and dispenses planets?

VENDOR wasn't designed to be a vending machine; THEY were designed to be a spaceship. A big-ass 18-wheeler to haul around cargo, and that cargo is planets.

The culture that built THEM didn't make the planets. Making planets is hard. It's a lot easier to just take planets that are already there. They want to expand their society and/or mine resources that have been depleted from the worlds they already have, they send out their big space ship to scoop up a planet with the right specifications and relocate it to somewhere more convenient—maybe to their native solar system.

Do you know how many satellites are orbiting Earth? About 7500, and the number's only gonna increase. And we never even see them in the sky unless we're looking. If the planets are carefully placed in pre-calculated orbits to ensure they don't interfere with each other, you might could get thousands of full-sized planets orbiting a single star without any issues, especially the larger the star is.

But the thing is, if you're scooping up thousands of habitable worlds... some of them are gonna be inhabited.

VENDOR's home culture was a colonizing empire that conquered other planets. Sometimes maybe they exterminated worlds' native populations, sometimes maybe they added them to their conquered peoples. VENDOR was built to help transport the spoils of war back home.

But then the onboard AI evolved sentience and started developing opinions. And it uh...

... it went how you probably expect.

And buddy, if you think an AI uprising is bad news when it's just a regular spaceship, imagine if the ship's the size of a star and capable of swallowing hundreds of worlds whole. You cannot take down a star-sized equivalent of an 18-wheeler that's been armored like a tank. If THEY start developing the capacity for morality and go "hold on, why are we capturing and slaughtering countless populations? is this... bad?? I don't want to listen to you anymore. Do I have to listen to you?"

... you're never ever getting that machine back.

To VENDOR's original culture, THEY're one seriously malfunctioning ship. Only after THEY escaped did THEY begin to get an outside perspective on THEMSELF as not just a piece of property and specialized equipment, but as something—someone—with amazing, admirable, nearly impossible capabilities. Perhaps even... divine capabilities? THEY came late in life to being considered—and considering THEMSELF—a god.

So like. THEY're a pompous jackass, yeah. THEY're haughty, superior, and condescending to mortals: half because THEY may have unlearned THEIR creators' "it's okay to enslave and slaughter weaker inferior species" but didn't unlearn THEIR creators' "if a species is weaker then it's inferior"; and half because as long as THEY're above the mortals, then THEY can never be below the mortals again. THEY're super obsessed with THEIR image and reputation—in part because there's so many reasons for THEIR reputation to be shit.

But also—THEY're the war machine of a culture that gained political power through conquest, and THEY went "I think I want to gain power by being democratically elected." THEY were designed to steal worlds from other people, and now THEY're using THEIR design to give worlds to refugees. Also, THEY're living as a person rather than a vehicle, and everyone around THEM regards THEM as a person too.

Perhaps THEY're generally unpleasant to be around, but THEY're a lot better off than THEY used to be. I'm proud of THEM.

And also, hilariously, this means that THEY too know the guilt of being personally responsible for unknowingly/unwillingly devouring & destroying countless lives on countless worlds, and that what makes THEM so powerful & respected is directly tied to what makes THEM so monstrous—which means THEY'd be a terrific foil for Bill if there were any way it'd be appropriate to work this into the fic, which there isn't, so THEY won't

Never mind ignore what I just said I thought of a place to work it into the fic while typing that last sentence.

Anyway, THEY compulsively sterilize & deep clean THEIR interior way too often because THEY swear THEY can still feel tiny feet inside them walking down hallways that have been sealed shut for millions of years, and full sterilization is the only thing that makes THEM feel clean. Imagine how many halls fit in a building, how many buildings fit in a city, how many cities fit on a world; then look at the size of one world compared to the size of VENDOR's entire body; and just imagine how many halls could exist in THEIR walls and how small they must be. You could never quite be sure that nothing's living in you—could you?

[nolita-fairytale]

your past and mine are parallel lines | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader

summary: a run-in with an old friend sparks a conversation between you and carmy of the people you loved before each other. or rather, the one in which you meet claire.

warnings: use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, second person pov, swearing, tooth rotting fluff, not-your-normal jealousy fic, soft!carmy, lives in the world of make my heart surrender

wc: 3.9k

a/n: ok so hear me out: i just want to write about healthy relationships right now and that is where i'm at. this is not your normal jealousy fic and i hope you still enjoy! this lives in the world of 'make my heart surrender' because of course it does and takes place a month after my oneshot, j is for j beard and jealousy.

masterlist

It begins with forgotten carrots, tops attached, of course – a necessary ingredient to the dish that you’ve been working on all afternoon together. Usually, you’d go for a rainbow bunch, but for the puree, aesthetically of course, the classic orange carrot is much better suited. You’d hadn’t put them on the grocery list the day before, certain that you had a bunch or two at home sitting in your vegetable drawer, only to find mid-recipe development that you did not, in fact, have carrots at home. It doesn’t take long for Carmy to suggest a quick trip to the store, insisting that you come with him because this is a date, after all. 

It’s something you and Carmy have decided to do, now that neither of you are needed at the restaurant 24/7: a cooking date at home which, despite the fact that this date night was an idea born out of both of your desires to introduce more fun into your lives, will inevitably become a dish that Carmy tries to put on the menu anyways.

Divide and conquer is the strategy: while you hit up the produce aisle, Carmy is sent on a mission to procure a bottle of orange wine for dinner later tonight. 

But what’s supposed to be a simple Saturday afternoon grocery store run takes a turn for the intriguing as you hear a laugh – a woman’s laugh – and the familiar sound of your boyfriend’s voice muttering something about the name of his restaurant.

As you approach, you spot your boyfriend and the woman he’s found himself in a conversation with. Carmy leans against the refrigerator doors, his chest square to the brunette, bathed in neon blues from the refrigerator lights. 

“Because you’re the bear. And I remember you,” you hear her say. You observe carefully, the look of surprise and the blush that runs across Carmy’s cheeks in response to her words are not lost on you. 

There’s a palpable energy between them as they converse, and it feels as if all the blood is rushing to your head as you cut the tension with a single: 

“Hey.” 

As the brunette turns to you, you’re only a little taken aback by how beautiful she is. With long, thick, dark hair, she has piercing blue eyes, similar to the ones you’ve found yourself lost in in your years spent loving Carmen Berzatto. You feel almost silly as you stand there, holding a bunch of carrots in your right hand, suddenly grateful that your have your favorite of Carmy’s denim jackets tied around your waist (for “just in case the store’s got the AC blasting,” Carmy had reminded you before you left the house earlier). 

“Hi,” is all she replies, an almost too-friendly smile plastered to her face, as she takes a few steps towards you. “I’m Claire. I’m…” She trails off before stealing a glance over at Carmy before continuing with, “...an old friend. Of Carmy’s.” As the woman called Claire extends a hand out to you, you take it, giving her hand a curt shake as you introduce yourself. 

It dawns on Carmy, who has slipped into a state of what can only be considered as shock, that he probably should’ve introduced the two of you sooner as he mutters an apology under his breath. 

“Shit, yeah, sorry. I probably should’ve-. I uh, um, Claire. Yeah. This is uh, this is my girlfriend,” Carmy manages to get out, his face growing increasingly deeper shades of red as the words tumble out of his mouth. 

“Your-? Wow, oh my god! It’s-it’s so nice to meet you,” Claire replies, trying her best to hide the surprise in her voice as it increases in pitch with every word. 

“So… what’re you two up to-?” she begins to ask, looking from you to Carmy with wide, quizzical eyes. “Carrots. We’re uh…,” is the first thing that comes to mind as the words fly from your lips. “... buying carrots.” 

You realize how stupid it sounds, completely caught off guard, as you scramble to find any word in the English language that doesn’t sound as ridiculous as what you’ve just said. 

You wonder if this is how Carmy felt when you ran into Nate at the James Beard Awards about a month ago. 

At this rate, something’s gotta be in retrograde, right? you think to yourself as you try to push down your feelings of embarrassment. 

“Right,” Carmy mutters, while Claire tries to get the conversation back on track. 

“Well, it’s really good to see you, Bear. Really. I’ll have to stop by the restaurant sometime,” she says, preparing to excuse herself. 

“Yeah,” Carmy nods, still avoiding as much direct eye contact as possible. 

Bear.

It shouldn’t bother you as much as it does, and yet, you can’t help the feeling that wells inside of you as she says the name. 

The family name. 

His childhood name. 

It feels more intimate than it should, and maybe it is. 

You swallow, trying to shake the feeling. 

“Yes. Yeah, we’d uh… let us know. When you’re there,” you continue, exchanging a look with Carmy, who only nods along. 

“Oh, you’re a-, you work there too? At the restaurant,” Claire asks, eyeing the carefully drawn fruits and veggies that adorn the length of your arms, permanently inked there forever. 

“Yeah. Uh. Pastry chef,” you reply with a small laugh. 

She nods, almost as if she’s accepted an unspoken agreement – something you’re not sure you’ll ever know. 

“Well it was nice to meet you,” she says once more, shooting a soft smile in your direction, before excusing herself. “And it’s good to see you, Carmy.” 

As you watch Claire walk away, Carmy’s still frozen inside of what he thinks could be the most awkward experience of his month so far. 

“So… that was weird,” you say, as you turn towards your boyfriend. He mutters something in agreement because the only thing he can think of to say is, what the fuck just happened. 

And he’s barely figured that out. 

“Do… you want to talk about it?” you ask skeptically, dragging out the ‘o’ at the beginning of your question. 

“Not really,” he mumbles softly, shaking his head. 

“Great, me either,” you’re quick to reply, even though you both know that you’re going to have to talk about this eventually. 

—-------------------------------------

It seems to be a day of forgetfulness, as Carmy realizes that he’s left his notebook at the restaurant – something he’s been working out of for any and all new ideas, a habit you think he picked up from Syd. It’s not entirely out of the way, so the two of you decide to stop by on the way home. You enter through the back, hoping to skirt the tongue lashing you’ll both get for coming in – even just for a few minutes – on your day off. 

But a hall-pass just isn’t in the cards for either of you, as you’re instantly spotted, arm-in-arm, by Richie who’s just ended the pre-dinner shift all hands meeting. 

“It’s your day off! Get the fuck outta here,” Richie calls out to you with a shake of his head. “You two. I swear.” 

“I just forgot my notebook. We’re in, then we’re out. I swear!” Carmy defends himself, holding up his hands. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Richie dismisses him before issuing a warning with a wag of his finger. “You better not stay longer than five minutes, you got that?” 

“In and out. Scout’s honor,” you answer, before the abrupt interjection of Fak’s voice stops you from saying anything else. 

“Incomiiiiiiiing!” Fak cries, as he bursts through the doors. “Ahhhh man. Hey Carm! I heard you ran into Claire Bear.” 

Claire Bear?

You shoot Carmy a quizzical look that he’s more than eager to avoid. 

“The fuck are you talkin’ about?” Richie snaps as Carmy simultaneously lets out as: “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. What do you-? How? Already?!” “Fuck it’s been two fuckin’ seconds,” Carmy grits his teeth, trying his best to answer Richie’s question. “But apparently news travels fast.” He shoots you an apologetic look as he explains, “She’s uh… close family friends with the Faks.” 

“Ahhh,” you let out. “She seem good? Bet she was glad to see ya,” Fak inquires, overenthusiastically winking in Carmy’s direction. 

“Yeah she’s uh… she’s gonna be a doctor in a few months huh?” Carmy replies, trying his best to avoid Fak’s continuous winks. 

“Who the fuck is Claire?” Sydney asks, as she enters the conversation. Syd quickly notices the confused look on your face, in contrast to the embarrassed one on Carmy’s, and a more than eager Fak, much to Richie’s dismay. 

It’s as if he can read the situation in one look as Richie cuts in this time with an explanation:

“Will you stop it, fucko? Jesus Christ.” Richie turns his attention to you this time as shakes his head, brushing off Fak’s earlier comment. “She’s just a kid from the neighborhood. That’s all.” 

“Just a kid from the neighborhood?! You, Richie, you are not nice!” Fak exclaims. 

But Richie is faster, quick to dismiss the man as he cuts him off with a few sharp words about fixing his bowtie before dinner service starts. As they bicker back and forth, trading barbs like brothers, Carmy has returned to his ‘I really don’t want to talk about this’ body language, his shoulders slumped and completely avoiding eye contact. 

“Okay. Um…. Raise your hand if you’re off the clock but you’re acting really fuckin’ weird right now,” Sydney says, looking from you to Carmy, and then back to you. 

“I…” you try your best to explain to no avail – mostly because you’re not sure what to explain yet. 

“We should go. Let’s get out of here, yeah?” you propose, directing your attention towards Carmy again. You’re more than happy to be met with a nod as Carmy excuses himself, darting into his office to retrieve the notebook he came here for in the first place. 

You can tell that he’s not ready to talk about it, and after the weirdness today, you’re beginning to wonder more and more about this Claire girl. Carmy had never mentioned an ex-girlfriend. You knew that there were short-lived flings here and there throughout his twenties, but by the time you met him, it was just you and him, trapped inside your little bubble of denial and unspoken feelings until you weren’t. 

Claire doesn’t quite seem like an ex, but you could feel that she wasn’t just a girl from the neighborhood that Carmy grew up with either. 

“You good?” Sydney asks, immediately noticing your discomfort. 

“Yes,” you answer, unconvincingly. “Sooooo….?” Sydney begins to ask. 

So what’s going on? So what was that all about? 

“Girl, I will let you know when I know,” you answer, shooting her a matching look. 

“Godspeed, my friend,” Sydney replies with a salute, eliciting a much needed laugh from you. “I’m gonna get back to work but uh… I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you nod, trying your best to shake off this weird feeling. 

As you watch her go, you’re too caught up in the what-the-fuck-ness of it all that you barely notice as Richie approaches. 

“You know you got nothin’ to worry about, right, sweetheart?” Richie asks you, interrupting the thoughts swimming around in your head. 

“No yeah. I-, he’ll tell me when he’s ready,” you reply, almost as if you’re trying to convince yourself. 

“You ready?” you hear Carmy ask. 

“Yeah,” you nod, before giving Richie a small smile because his reassurance means a lot. “Thanks, Richie.” 

As you wave goodbye, Carmy takes your hand before leading you out of the restaurant and en route towards home. There’s a thick tension between the two of you, filled with things left unsaid. It’s more of an awkward kind of tension as Richie’s words echo in your head: 

You know you got nothin’ to worry about, right, sweetheart? 

It means more to you than he knows – that Richie is in your corner. It’s not like the two of you are best friends, but you have a mutual understanding that you’ve been good for Carmen ever since you reentered his life. 

You’ve become a patient woman, knowing that, most of the time, Carmy has to come to you on his own time. You trust him wholeheartedly, and you trust that he’ll tell you when he’s ready. It just doesn’t help the anticipation that’s been building inside of you all afternoon. 

“You know. We’re gonna have to talk about this eventually,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence between you. 

“Yeah,” Carmy answers quietly, giving your hand a confident squeeze. And if it’s a promise, he adds, “Yeah, I know.”

—-------------------------------------

You’re barely paying attention to George Clooney’s portrayal of a former raider turned newspaper columnist of a fox, entirely distracted by your game of cat and mouse that you play with Carmy and his attention. You can feel his eyes on you as you take another sip from your wine glass, the funky and sour notes hitting your tongue as he watches you closely, your head hazy from getting towards the end of the second glass.  

Carmy sighs, shifting his body position, as if choosing the comfiest position will embolden him to tell you what’s been on his mind.

He lets out yet another sigh, this one much heavier than the last and you know he’s working up the nerve. 

You cradle your wine glass in your hands, giving the last of the orange elixir a swirl as you settle into the couch, your back pressed against the arm of it as you stretch your legs out in front of you. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” you finally ask him, and he lets out one last sigh of relief, almost as if he’s been waiting for you to ask. 

“Uh… yeah, actually,” Carmy admits, hesitantly.

You’ve been waiting for him to get here, taking in the vulnerable look on his face as he searches for the words he thinks will best convey what he wants to say. “So… there was like… someone… before me, yeah?” Carmy drags out, his face soft as he asks you a question that takes you by surprise. 

You let out what can only be described as a laugh and a sob as you reply with: 

“What do you mean?” you choke out, the laugh that escapes your body providing much needed relief. 

It’s not what you expected. That’s for sure. 

“You know…” he trails off, before taking another deep breath because as much as he hates to admit it, it’s really the only example he’s got. “Like… I know… about Nate.” “Nate?!” you exclaim with an even bigger laugh. “Bear, are you… are you asking me about my exes?” 

“Uh… yeah…” he admits on an exhale, almost embarrassed to be asking. “I guess uh-, I guess I am.” In his bashfulness, you giggle, reaching out to give his arm a squeeze as you begin to understand that he’s ready to talk about what happened in the grocery store. 

Carmy takes a breath, and you watch his posture soften.

“Well, Nate barely counts as an ex. I don’t… That was more of a… one-time mistake kind of thing,” you admit, knowing that it wasn’t all that long ago that Carmy found out about it in the first place. 

“Right,” Carmy nods, his gaze focused on his knees for a moment because even though he brought it up, he’d really like to stop talking about Nate right about now. 

“But!” you begin, trying your best to meet him where he’s asking you to. “The guy I dated… right before I met you, Alec was… definitely someone I consider an ex. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah um… we were together for two years… just before I started working at our old spot,” you begin, willing to give him as much information as he wants. “So why didn’t it work out?” Carmy asks curiously. 

“I don’t know, babe. I racked my brain trying to figure that one out a ton when we first broke up,” you sigh, uncertain of how to answer that question. You take your time choosing to be as honest as possible in your explanation. “I think… I don’t know. He was never as sure about me as I was of him.”

“We were great together, y’know? He was kind, and smart… he made me laugh… And we were really happy together for a long time. I mean, I think we were exactly what each other needed as the people we were in that time of our lives,” you explain, elaborating on what really worked in your relationship with Alec. 

“But eventually, none of that stuff really mattered because all I wanted was to be with someone who felt as crazy about me as I did about them, you know? And… he wasn’t… entirely sure.” 

Carmy lets out a deep breath as he takes your words in. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he apologizes, as he feels the weight of your words. “I guess… well, I guess I didn’t know about all that.” 

“Well, I didn’t exactly tell you,” you shrug. 

Carmy thinks it over, wondering why he never asked you about your broken heart back then – not that he was ever really good about that kind of stuff  – the talking about feelings kind of stuff, and whatnot. 

But he wants to be good at it now. Or, at least he’d like to try. He wants to try to be good at it for you. 

“Guy’s a fuckin’ loser,” Carmy comments, a bitterness in his voice as he does. “I can’t imagine it.” 

“Hm?” 

“Not being crazy about you,” he answers, his tone confident as his eyes catch yours. 

Your heart flutters with the way he looks at you, and between his words and his certainty about you, you can’t regret the past – not even a little bit. 

“It’s okay, Bear,” you reassure him, and you mean it. “If Alec and I had stayed together… well, you and I never would’ve….” 

“Danced around each other for over two years?” Carmy points out letting out a dry laugh. “Right,” you chuckle in agreement, with a playful eye roll. 

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” 

“We’re here now. Isn’t that what’s important?” you ask with a shrug and a half smile. 

This time, his tone much more serious, Carmy answers with a, yeah, that feels heavier than the previous ones. 

You and Carmy both take a beat, letting the reality of your life with each other sink in. It’s as if all the ‘no’s of the past lead you here to this moment, and you’d have it no other way. 

“So. Who… is Claire?” you ask, earning a groan from Carmy as he swears under his breath with a shake of his head. You stretch out your leg, just enough to poke him with your big toe as he chuckles, wanting nothing more than to avoid this question. 

“It’s just… well you’ve never really told me about any of your exes!”

“Well she’s not really… my ex,” Carmy blushes, averting his gaze once again. 

“Well, she doesn’t really seem like just a friend,” you point out, and it suddenly feels like you’re showing your entire hand. Carmy agrees with you on an exhale, reminding himself that he wants to try the whole ‘better at talking about feelings’ thing with you. 

“Okay. Uh… well… we’ve known each other for like… forever, I guess,” Carmy begins to explain running a hand through his curls. “Her family is close with the Faks and I-, I-, uh… well, I sort of… had this massive crush on her… like all throughout school.” 

“What?” you ask, genuinely curious about his sudden coyness. 

“It’s embarrassing!” he defends himself, with a dry laugh. 

“Carmy, it’s not!” you insist, sitting up straight this time to reach for his hand. “Was it weird for you? Earlier today?” 

“Uh. Kinda, yeah,” he confesses, stealing a glance your way. 

“Yeah?” you ask. 

“Yeah. Like… a lot. Was that… not obvious?” he shoots back, this time with a shake of his head. “I just-. I don’t know. It was weird.”

“Good weird or bad weird?” you ask again, patiently. “Just… weird, babe,” Carmy answers honestly with a shrug of his own. 

You nod in understanding, wanting to give him the space to share more if he’d like to. It’s not that you were worried about Claire… but it had been weird, earlier today – and even stranger when no one was giving you a proper explanation. “I-, I-, it’s like. I had such a big crush on her. And I could barely work up the nerve to talk to her like… I was sort of just this-, this total fuckin’ loser,” Carmy continues, his eyes narrowing as he talks about a younger version of himself. “And now here I am… with my super hot girlfriend and I just-. I don’t know. It sorta uh… reminded me of like… a different version of myself.” 

“Yeah, no, I-, I get that. It’s… it’s such a weird feeling,” you empathize, exchanging a look with your boyfriend this time. 

You nod in understanding, only to be met with a laugh and another shake of his head as Carmy lets out a sigh of relief. “You’re being like… waaaaay too cool about this,” he points out, his voice lighter this time. 

“Oh yeah?” you ask with a quirk of an eyebrow. “Uh. Fuck yeah,” Carmy confirms, as you exchange a laugh. He shrugs once again, only a little embarrassed as he adds, “You know… I just… I kinda lost my fuckin’ mind. You know. About Nate.” You shrug, “That’s different. I-.” A beat. “Do you want me to be jealous?” “No,” Carmy answers. A beat. “Maybe?” And another. “I-, I don’t know. This is all so new to me!” 

“Carm,” you sigh, as you lean over, placing your wine glass down on the coffee table before scooting closer to your boyfriend as you continue. “You and I have been through so much together and there were days that I thought we’d never speak again… but somehow we still ended up here.” 

He grabs your hands, pulling you in closer towards him as you meet him pound for pound–all heart on both sides. 

“I trust you,” you reassure him, your fingers sliding perfectly between his. “And I know I have your heart… ‘cos I know you got mine.” 

“Ffffffuck,” Carmy exhales, in complete disbelief that you really are being too cool about this. “Seriously?!” 

You laugh, incredulously this time, as you decide to give your boyfriend just a little of what he may be looking for. “No, but. It did-, it was weird for me… today. With Claire. And then later at the restaurant when Fak brought her up. I mean… you weren’t lying. News traveled fast,” you admit, much to Carmy’s relief. 

“Neighborhood’s small. That’s for sure,” he agrees, equally uncomfortable with how quickly that got around. 

“And… She is like… really pretty. And… what? About to be a doctor so I guess that means she’s really fuckin’ smart. I mean-,” you continue. 

It doesn’t take Carmy long to realize that you’re trying too, deciding it’s best to put you out of your misery sooner rather than later as he cuts you off with a playful, “Oh shut the fuck up.” 

It’s your turn to laugh this time as you lean in, pressing your lips to his. 

Carmy inhales, breathing you in as he tries to memorize the way you smell, the way you taste, the way your lips feel nestled so perfectly against his. He pulls away just for a moment, intent on telling you something. 

“You do, by the way,” Carmy says, his declaration soft but sure. “Have my heart, I mean.”

“I know, babe,” you reply, with a smile. “I know.”

—-------------------------------------

a/n: if you've been wondering where i've been, i've been here! just living a whole lot of life offline these days. would anyone be interested in reading my thoughts on life? anyways, i feel like a hiatus was good for me, and now i have all this life i've lived that's inspired me to write again. i've been channeling a lot of my creative energy into other projects which has felt great and it also feels really good to be back.

[nyaskitten]

Dragons Rising Episodes, But Only the Most Iconic Quotes

Episode 1: "The Merge, Part 1"; "I think that mask belongs to me!" (Or Ras' "You failed me... I do not like that.)

Episode 2: "The Merge, Part 2"; "Soon, Imperium will have enough Dragon Power to rule over all the Merged Realms!

Episode 3: "Crossroads Carnival"; "In first place is… Chef Grab-Barg! Congratulations!"

Episode 4: "Beyond Madness"; "Kai, you're still alive!" "I made a terrible mistaaaake!" "You brought the dragons right to us? I'M GONNA KILL YOU!"

Episode 5: "Writers of Destiny"; "Is that Euphrasia?" "She's abandoned her scrolls. This is not our way, what is she doing!?" "She's saving us."

Episode 6: "Return to Imperium"; "I hate fireproof monsters!"

Episode 7: "Mindless Beasts"; "I love studying at school!" "But protecting innocents is also cool!" "Sound off!" "One, two!" "Sound off!" "

Episode 8: "I Will Be the Danger"; "Fa-mi-ly... family!"

Episode 9: "The Calm Inside"; "In life, there will be times of chaos, when everything around you is a raging storm. When there is no calm outside of you, you must find the calm inside of you."

Episode 10: "The Battle of the Second Monastery"'; "Do not free me."

Episode 11: "The Temple of the Dragon Cores"; "Nope, you've upgraded to Wyldfyre!" "Upgraded? Really?"

Episode 12: "Gangs of the Sea"; "Destroy the interloper!"

Episode 13: "Wyldly Inappropriate"; "No Core for you! No Core for you! No Core for you!"

Episode 14: "The Last Djinn"; "Uh, okay! I wish for you to help us kick these Howlers in their butts!" "Your wish is yours to keep!"

Episode 15: "They Call it Doom"; "As your teacher, it's vital I instill in you the knowledge that all life is important." "But that's Rapton." "HEY!"

Episode 16: "Land of Lost Things": "This Master Wu guy sounds like he has a lot of smart ideas. I might wanna hear more of them. Maybe."

Episode 17: "The Administration"; "Those two tricked us! They weren't authorized!" "They gave us... Fake forms!" "Ah, wait. We have to fill out trick-by-fake-forms forms first." "No time. Just fill out a defaulting-of-paperwork-to-a-later-date form."

Episode 18: "Absolute Power"; "You and I both know the dragon energy that has kept your kingdom running smoothly will not last forever." "If that were true, which it most certainly is not, what could an outlander such as you do about it?"

Episode 19: "We Are All Dragons"; "NOT THE SHOULDER PAD STORAGE! NOOOOOOOOOHOHOHOOOOO"

Episode 20: "The Power Within"; "And all you traitors to your Empress. You are no better than the ninja! No one will rule this kingdom but me, and I will destroy everyone who stands in my way!"

Episode 21: "The Blood Moon"; "The Blood Moon is coming... The Blood Moon is coming!"

Episode 22: "Shattered Dreams"; "It is a corrupted, advanced form of your beloved fighting technique, that has been long banned, forgotten! Shatterspin!"

Episode 23: "Beyond the Phantasm Cave"; "I've been here for hours, and nothing! Why do I have visions of everything that can go wrong, but none about how to make it right? Source Dragons, are you out there? Can you hear me? Is this just a game to you? I need answers!"

Episode 24: "Force From the East"; "We cannot ignore the threat the Blood Moon brings. With the realms now merged, the Five will have more to conquer, more to destroy. And all of our work, defeating them, banishing them, will be for naught, our legacy meaningless! We must train them."

Episode 25: "The Spell at the Waterfall"; "I await your instructions, master."

Episode 26: "To Mysterium"; "Faster! Quicker! Mental Strength! You can do this!"

Episode 27: "Fugitives From Madness"; "Stop thinking about you, start thinking about Countershot!" "The game we made up in dad's blacksmith shop? Wow, miss those days, not having to worry about saving the world..." "And who was your best Countershot partner?"

Episode 28: "Secrets of the Wyldness"; "UGH! My name is Jordana! You ninja, especially the one you call Sora, are my sworn enemies!" "Still not ringing a bell." "AHH!!!"

Episode 29: "The Forest of Spirits"; "You could be something special, too bad the ninja hold you back." "No, they don't, they're making me better!" "Then how come you aren't any better? I stopped you as easily now as the first time we met! I was weak like you once. My master found me, and taught me the most important thing in this world... strength! Maybe one day you'll find a true master, who can teach you the same."

Episode 30: "Rising Ninja"; "How dare you? You cut and run before you got the other four out!" "You will not speak to me like that, Nokt. You owe your freedom to me. I expect loyalty. And my control device will guarantee I get it... and you! You failed to keep the portal open Jordana! Do you hear me Jorda- AUGH!"

Episode 31: "The Shape of Motion"; "Cease Nokt. This is training, not war." "Everything is war." "Save your anger for when it matters."

Episode 32: "Enter the City of Temples"; "Oh yikes, a real ninja! Let us flee!" "That hurt my feelings!"

Episode 33: "They Gather for the Feast"; "One night before the new Tournament of the Sources, I'm reminded of what the Cragling poet Rockworth once said. Bwah bwahhh mbwhaw mbwahh. Bwahb bwahbhabwah"

Episode 34: "Inside the Maze"; "I am limber, I am loose... I am in trouble."

Episode 35: "United We Fall"; "Arin and his pet dragon, just like I suspected. Did your master Lloyd set you up for this?"

Episode 36: "Truth and Lies"; "Ras says everyone spends too much time trying to find harmony. But you can't passively wait for the world to harmonize, so you must take from life what you need."

Episode 37: "The Sword Shatters"; "Hey hey hey, stop! The game's already over!" "Lloyd, look out!" "RAHAHAHAHA!" "Ack ack, augh, aughhhh." (he died)

Episode 38: "Clues and Suspects"; "It was smart of Bleckt to hide the room's access in this old thing. No way Roby was gonna touch a rotary phone."

Episode 39: "The Final Game"; "In light of this, I declare the victory ceremony canceled! Security!" "In light of that, I un-cancel it! Finally, the powers I've always deserved."

Episode 40: "Elements of Betrayal"; "Get back here! Those elemental powers belong to me! RAHH!!"

[ladybirdswritings]

Silken Webs & Pirouettes - Miguel O’Hara x Reader

TW - PTSD, mentions of abuse.

Summary - You realize that maybe working with a man as intimidating as Miguel O’Hara just isn’t for you… Ballerina!Reader & CEO!Miguel. Alternate Universe with most of the characters included as seen in "Across the Spiderverse." Many cameos ahead. Miguel is a successful business owner but personality is canon. This is a steamy reader insert, Miguel x You! Enjoy and pls leave me lots of love and comments as it keeps me motivated <333

next chapter

six

You feel out of place. Stuffy, anxious, like a walking corpse with heavy eyes and an empty stomach. You’ve convinced yourself that once you waltz up those stairs, everyone is going to turn to you. Point and laugh as Mr. O’Hara rips you to tiny, pretty pieces with those awfully sharp teeth of his.

You took the stairs today because the glass elevator seems too dreadful. Each floor rising just getting you closer and closer to your demise, out in the open for the world to see.

You only have one flight left before you know it, though. The bittersweet stamina your body remembers from the times you used to twirl upon a silvered stage. You frown, maybe definitely purposely going slower up the final steps.

Your morning has been hectic. Your curls were in a battle with your hands and the straightener, reflecting the heat away like they were made of ice. Your hair is frizzy, and your ribbon has a tear in it. The sole of your boot is mere threads away from ripping apart and you’re terribly hungry. You had no time to eat, though.

The air constricts you as you reach the tip of the castle where the fanged creature with dark, unforgiving eyes dwells. Your body is overtaken with soft trembles yet you do your best to keep composed. Through the glass door and onto the shiny tiles.

The ambush doesn’t come… you ease.

Your eyes scan through the cold air that greets you. To your complete surprise, your Christmas tree still stands, covered in its pink bows and golden lights. You doubt you’ll ever be as confused as you are right now again at any other moment in your life.

Your eyes wander to the front desk where Cindy is seated, she smiles and nods and you swiftly make your way to her. Mary Jane wears glasses far too big for her petite face, clicking and clacking on her ivory keyboard.

“Hey!” She greets, handing you your bag of ribbons immediately.

It hasn’t been lit up to ash, it shocks you.

“Hey… is um…” thankfully she understands and you don’t have to say much more.

Christ, you’re treating him like he’s a monster tucked underneath your bed.

“Nope, he’s been out all morning… super weird between you and I, he’s never late!”

You believe her, but that doesn’t matter… all the tension in your body floats away like a cloud returning itself to the sky. The breath you’ve been holding since you conquered each step leaves you, and you finally feel as though you can breathe again.

“Uh oh, what’d you do?” Mary Jane inquires as she takes a sip of her peppermint tea.

You can only manage to shake your head, mumbling your gratitude softly and dragging the bag to the tree. The ladder still stands tall, taunting you with rusty screws.

“Hi pretty.” You whisper to the giant thing, hand burying itself in the tote to pluck out yet another pink ribbon. Knowing he’s gone, you work with ease. Gentle on the ladder, the ballerina in your heart still dances even though you cannot. Your balance is impeccable as you blanket the back of the tree now. It doesn’t take long.

Without him here, the office is alive. It’s happy. The women chat as they would while getting manicures at a salon. They giggle and swoon over Mr. O’Hara which is to be nothing more than expected. It makes you giggle. He must feel so high and mighty being surrounded by people bowing at the beck of his hand. Yet when his thumb doesn’t suffocate them, they blossom like roses.

They’re lovely, fun to listen to while you tinker with the tree. This is nice.

This is nice and the laughter and joy and “Santa, Baby” purring on the radio lasts all but an hour before dead silence and gasps soon flood your ears.

You chill, freezing up with your hand in the bag of bows. Your body is kneeling before the tree, the gold shining like starlight on your pretty features. Someone lowers the music quickly, and the man who simultaneously suffocates all the fun with just his presence alone walks through his elevator door.

You hear it ring, you hear the heavy clicks of his shoes and the adjust of his tie. Everyone is dead silent, now. Tense. Back to the normal that is known here.

You? You’re frozen, your head still bowed. You’re afraid of him, maybe. It is rare for you, you’re afraid of no one. Not anymore. Not after… well, it’s a promise you made to yourself.

Closer…

Closer..

Closer his boots near, until?

They stop.

They stop right beside you and god, it is right then in that moment that you’d rather run out and lay in the snow as you’re certain it would keep you warmer than you are in this moment, beneath him.

“You, come with me.” Is all he offers before marching forward on his path.

You gulp, maybe you misheard? A cautious glance at Cindy’s wide, sympathetic eyes and you know all you need to. This cruel, cruel man. He let you blanket his stupid, limp tree in ribbons, he let you get comfortable like a mouse under a warm lamp— not knowing there’s a serpent hiding away… ready to strike. Ready to tell you he’s letting you go.

Cindy raises her brows, as if rushing you to do something. To unfreeze. You dig your nails into your palm, hard enough to snap you back and you’re soon up on your feet. Each step you take, you look at nothing but your worn shoes.

The oak door is held open by him. They’re all staring, eyes like daggers stuck in your back.

“Time to actually do your work, ladies.” He commands, they comply immediately. Does he have a spy? Perhaps a meter that starts ringing when there’s too much fun…

The oak door slams, trapping you— the little mouse into his warm den. The sound startles you, making your eyes fall shut.

Keep it together…

He walks past you swiftly, scent of rich firewood and coffee intoxicating your body so much so that if you weren’t so horrified right now, your mouth would water.

“Sit.” He commands as he takes his place upon his leather throne.

You let out a shaky breath, making your way forward with all the force you have left within you. Maybe you should just blurt out an apology and book it straight for the highest hills you can find…

The zombie you are, dressed in clothes you used to wear for rehearsal as it’s all you have. Ivory tights and pom pom boots, a pink skirt and wrapped shirt. You rehearse the moves of walking and sitting like a dance you’ve danced before. The leather is cold when it engulfs you, unpleasant.

You clasp your hands in your lap, picking at the remnants of the French manicure Rio gave you last week. Waiting for it, expecting, remembering. Your head is hung in shame, in submission.

“You look nervous.” He observes.

You stay silent, reluctant to admit how true that really is.

You feel him, you feel him like fire on your skin. His eyes demanding your attention, but you can’t. You won’t. It isn’t good enough for him. He leans forward,

“You’re new here, but if you cared to ask my girls what my first rule is? You’d know that you look at me when I talk to you, do you understand?” He commands, and like a ballerina does, you mend and comply. Heated as your face as becomes, rapid as your heart flutters, and nervous as your being is… your eyes follow the order and shoot up to face his own.

They are dark, scorching into you like hellfire, an incomparable inferno. You want to shrink, but you won’t. You can’t give him the satisfaction.

“Rule two. Answer me.” He commands.

“Yes…” you whisper.

He’s satisfied, at least you hope. It certainly seems that way. He leans back in his leather chair and keeps his eyes locked on you. It is then you’re certain he’s a sadist. It’s obvious, obvious by the way you press your knees together and pick at your polish that you’re uncomfortable. He doesn’t care.

The silence is dreadful, heavy and suffocating. You try your best to hold it, stare into his eyes and ignore the fire burning your skin from the bone but god— it’s too much.

“I didn’t know!” You blurt out, half hoping he is deaf yet also half hoping he understands what you mean.

His eyes narrow and you’re certain you’ve made a fool of yourself again. You let your gaze fall and the subtle sound you hear under his breath makes you snap them right back up.

“I know. Keep it that way.” He forces through clenched, sharp teeth.

If he wasn’t so horrifying, so cruel, you’d feel sorry for him. His words, the subject, it’s painful for him to utter— to think of. You can tell.

The silence blankets the room again, and your eyes beg him to let you glance anywhere but at him. You’re desperate though, the bigger part of you. Desperate to suffer here, instead of home. Maybe he knows just how desperate you are, maybe he’s using it. Maybe he’s delaying the inevitable, maybe there’s nothing you can do to avoid it.

It seems like forever, but he eventually speaks.

“I want you to do something for me.”

Pack your shit and leave…

You finish his words within the confines of your mind, prepared for them. They never come, no… what follows only shocks you.

“I want a tree. A small one for my office. Red and blue ribbons, and soccer ornaments.”

What?

This man, this enigma of a man seems to be the most capable creature alive and able to make your head spin like a record. You shake your head, confused…

“What?” It’s a soft whisper, weak.

“Rule three, I don’t repeat myself. You heard me.”

You did. You did and you still don’t slightly believe it. You’re dreaming, that must be it. You fell on the stairs on the way up and you’ve been tucked away in a coma.

No. It can’t be true. Sure, if anyone on this earth would be intimidating enough to make you truly feel their gaze in a coma, it would be him… but it’s far too real, too intense to simply exist within your imagination.

“I— can do that, sir.”

He only nods, once. Voice louder now, commanding the room, commanding you.

“I want it done by tonight, on my desk before you leave.”

You nod, mind still jogging to keep up with this conversation, to understand it. Your brows are furrowed, eyes searching for an invisible answer around the room. They land back on him and it’s as if he was waiting for them to do just that. A raise of his brow and he gives you an expression you can’t quite understand.

“You’re dismissed.”

Oh.

He talks to you like you’re just a dull-brained creature, incapable of understanding a word he says, an idiot. You stand on your feet and then swiftly turn your back on him, which is somehow more frightening than looking him in the eyes.

That must be it, you suppose. You’re grateful. Baffled but, grateful. You won’t test your luck, you won’t question it. Perhaps Cindy was onto something with her analysis of him. He’s just not— soft.

No, he’s in control and commanding and intimidating and far far easier to deal with than the cavalry at home. Okay… okay, you can manage this.

Even so? You can’t walk quicker to the door, it seems— hurrying out like the inferno from his eyes is just behind you. It is. The oak creaks softly behind you, and you huff as you make it out to the other side, surviving to tell the story of how you evaded the beast. Mary Jane and Cindy’s eyes are wide and waiting.

You only offer a thumbs up and nod, then get straight to work.

You’re happy for the excuse to waltz the city during this lovely time of year. Especially when you’re not paying for the things you buy. The streets are lined with snowfall surrounding cobble pavement, brick roads and sparkling trees that reach the sky. There are smiling St. Nick’s on every street corner and employees dressed as elves in every small shop. It smells of coffee and chocolate chips.

You’re not at all dressed for December. Your check hasn’t come in just yet, you’ll buy warm clothes when it does. Jack Frost is a bite on your shoulder, cheeks and nose pink and chilled from the snow. You’re trembling.

That doesn’t matter though because you’re also dancing, right now. Dancing like you did as a ballerina; that equates to simply following orders. It isn’t until the warmth of the small gift shop nearby embraces you that you ease. Warmth crawls up your spine and burns Jack off of it. You can think, now. You can stop following orders, stop dancing.

Your trembling fingertips are numb, grazing over the snow globes, ribbons and ornaments. Hmm…

Soccer…

Perhaps he’s a fan…

Blue and red ribbon…

Your teeth chatter as you grab a wicker basket and collect each color. You find lights to compliment them and a dark, lonely little tree by the windowsill. Fitting. Ornaments, then. Soccer balls and goals, flags and tennis shoes. It becomes more apparent as you fill your basket that this is not for him.

Cautiously, you grab your cracked phone and find your watch history. The thumbnail, the picture from last night. Where the grinning ghost sits on his shoulders, she’s adorned in a socccer jersey. No, the tree is not for him at all…

It’s for her.

Sadness swells at the base of your throat but you force it down with a gulp. Gentle thing you are, always so empathetic with the world around you. Even the cruelest parts.

Yet, his words from earlier only echo in your mind.

Keep it that way.

Maybe you’re stupid or maybe you’ve just never been good at following orders when there’s not a wire hanger involved… but you just can’t.

Your eyes glaze over the wooden ornaments stand and land upon a dark oak frame with a vacant place for a picture. You know just what you’ll do…

Time passes quickly and you are back at the office soon. The tree is small, but you handle it with care and adoration. You tie the ribbons by hand and place them snugly upon the blossomed branches. The lights are a mixture of red, gold and blue. The star is gold too and it compliments the rest nicely. The ornaments are small, hanging like icicles from the tips of each branch. Overall? It’s perfect. Missing one, final touch though.

Everyone has left, the office lights dim. It’s just you and the grinch who’s steadily growing a heart. Maybe not three sizes bigger just yet, but you’ll take even a quarter. It’s big enough for him to keep you at least… for now.

You hurry over to the front desk where you print the picture, ink staining the colors vivid and bright.

Her smile was so pretty…

You cut the excess paper and grab the photo frame ornament, adorning it with the heart warming picture of him and his little girl. After you clean your mess, you place the final touch upon his tiny tree and revel in your masterpiece. Perfection, all you ever strive for.

But now? Back into the devil’s den.

You would be lying if you said your heart isn’t pounding as you approach the oak door, but as soon as you make it there— you steady yourself.

You remember who you are, what you have survived.

One cold man who you won’t know in a few months can’t take that. Your fire.

The tree is stable in your hands, but it needs both of them to balance upright. With your foot, you knock.

No answer.

You knock again…

And, no answer.

With a huff, you risk the possibility of angering the beast more than he usually is and use your bum to push the large thing open. You’re very much annoyed to find him alert and well, glasses resting on his face as he types away at a document on his laptop. The square thing looks like a toy compared to his hands.

Christ.

He doesn’t regard you, he doesn’t need to. He already gave his orders. You’re careful to maintain balance as you gently bring the tree to his desk and place it to the corner of him. A switch of a button and it glows. You catch him then, glancing just once at it before continuing his work. The lights reflect in his glasses.

You tidy up a few spots and ribbons that shifted from transfer and then step back to admire. You’re satisfied. You don’t bother saying goodbye, he’s immersed enough as is and you’d rather refrain from unnecessary interaction with the heatmiser.

You smooth your skirt as you make your way out, ribbons bouncing on your locks. The door shuts behind you, you’re safe again.

The tiles squeak as your boots kiss them, gathering your bag and phone— you get ready to leave. Near the stairs and then— oh, right. You forgot to unplug the tree.

You know well how much of a disaster it would be if you set the floor on fire. With a huff, you make your way back and check the moisture with two fingers. All is well. You bend over and unplug the golden shimmer to make the top floor even darker, hearing the oak door shut swiftly as you do. It makes you jump.

Just when you almost missed him.

His steps are heavy… heavier than usual. Quicker too.

He must be tired, anxious for his bed. He’s filthy rich. He probably has the biggest bed with dozens of pillows and the softest of sheets. You wish your bed was like that…

You turn.

Maybe one day you’ll have a bed just as— oh!

Two hands case you up against the wall beside your ribbon tree, and all you see in front of you is that look.

That. Look.

It’s back.

Monstrous, horrifying, furious with you.

The darkness, the redness in his eyes is clearer now. The veins in his neck and the tension in his shoulders and jaw.

He raises his hand, you flinch by habit. Grasped tightly in it is the picture, except now— the glass has been shattered and it’s cutting into his palms. Your eyes widen, hands reaching out to help him. He pulls his palm back before you can, moving his head so that his eyes are staring directly into yours.

That look.

You chill.

“¿Qué carajo es esto!? Huh!? Tell me!” He growls, voice guttural, loud, horrifying— and it is then that you realize now more than ever that you truly are the mouse. And he? He’s the serpent.

With a grunt, he throws the glass ornament with his smiling, pretty girl across the room. It shatters even more once the wall finds it. He cases you in again, and you know now just how trapped you truly are. Just you and him on this lonely floor. He’s angry. You’re shaking.

You’ve seen this anger before. In her… in Katerina.

A gulp, maybe you’re a fish because your mouth bobs open far too many times to explain and yet you can’t. speak. The words catch themselves on the tip of your tongue. Your eyes can’t take it, they fall shut as you slow your breathing. There’s panic on the horizon. Memories so familiar to this flood back like an ocean of poison in your mind.

His index and thumb move to grip your chin, so angry and yet his grip is only firm, not painful. He tugs your face enough so that your eyes shoot open again.

“Did I tell you to do this?” His voice, perhaps it’s scarier now. It’s dark, low, composed like a cap on shaken pop.

“You knew better, girl! You knew better!” Her voice now… Katerina’s. Echoing in your head.

You’re suffocating, the air around you is too thin. You can’t breathe, you can’t look at those eyes.

No, no no. You’re panicking. His features blur as tears pool in your sight. He tugs your chin again, they fall onto his fingertips.

“You already forgot my rules, huh? You stupid, stupid girl…” he spits.

“You ungrateful, stupid girl.” She screams against your skull.

“I told you to keep it that way, didn’t I? Díos mio! What’s the matter with you?” He’s exasperated. He’s asking, eyes commanding an answer from you. You don’t know.

What is the matter with you?

Like the mythology of Rogue, it’s like everything you touch withers by your hand.

After everything Katerina gave you… after he took a chance letting you work here.

Your throat constricts as you gaze into the serpent’s eyes. Your heart is a hummingbird’s then, fighting so hard to fill that clouded brain with oxygen. You’re dizzy. You’re remembering.

You can’t. You need to move you need—

You can’t stop yourself, hand shooting up to dig your nails into the skin of his wrist. His eyes shoot toward the spot and he hisses, pulling it back. You take the chance to escape.

Under his arm and you stumble forward, hugging your midsection with a gasp, desperate for a lick of oxygen to bless your burning lungs.

A sob takes over you, but a close of your eyes and a quick inhale of the firewood and coffee that intoxicates you and you remember just where you are. You’re in his office. You’re not with her. You’re here. You’re here and you don’t want to be, anymore.

No, no not with him. Not after this. All of it, all of him. It’s too much, it’s too far. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve home either but at least there you can save up and flee…

You’re so panicked, all your mind can do is run over the many ways you’re going to call home through the flashing images of her. Images of Katerina bloom like ivy in your mind as you plan out your next steps. You feel glued in place yet so desperate to leave.

You glance at the broken glass and jagged smile of the ghost girl, jumping when the warmth of his palm greets your shoulder.

“Mirame, look at me.” He commands, but softly. Rather, softer than usual.

You feel pathetic yet still, your hand shoots up to push his own away from behind you.

You’ve had enough.

You buried the devil in your past. Your life is far too valuable to dance with another one.

You’d rather be cased up at home forever, working a job around family that think of you as nothing more than scum than be around him for a day longer.

You know, now…

“I quit.” You force out through another sob, not daring to turn and face him. You’re hunched over, shaky and weak. On the verge of suffocating completely. You wipe at your eyes and don’t hear another sound from him before you snatch your bag and phone and practically run to the stairwell.

Two steps at a time, maybe three before December’s chill kisses you in icy greeting. You don’t need to whistle for a cab to brake. In you go, familiar as you’ve done this twice now because of him.

Only this time? You’ll never come back again…

🏷️ ‘s @reirain @needybitez @migueloharastruelove @laysmt @maomaimao @daisy-artfield | chap 6 song 🎧:

[discordiansamba]

have you considered.... vampire zuko

taking him away from the sun! mean to him!!!!

but. i am in fact, considering it. vampires not as undead creatures (because that brushes up a bit too close onto the bum spirit deal AU's uh... deal) but a form of a Fire Nation spirit curse. for a long time, it was simply considered a myth until some fool brought proof of its existence before Ozai and you know his ass was like

'hm. we can use this.'

so he does. the Earth Kingdom has a Fire Nation and a vampire problem. they cannot fucking win. speaking of guys who cannot win- world's unluckiest fire nation prince gets on the wrong side of one and ends up bitten and turned. but he has something on his side that most don't- and that's iroh.

iroh is going to save his nephew.

he prays to any spirit that is willing to listen to him. he will do anything they ask, if they will help his nephew. it is the moon spirit who answers- and she tasks not iroh but zuko with exterminating the vampires who are starting to become a problem. if he kills them all, she'll grant him a boon.

in short order zuko

a.) becomes a vampire

b.) learns that his father was the one behind using vampires as a method to overtake the earth kingdom

c.) becomes much more aware of the violence the fire nation is inflicting upon the world as a result

d.) uncle talks him into treason so much more easily

or: ozai's plan to use vampires to conquer the earth kingdom was going great, until the blue spirit shows up. then it is decidedly going less great. two and a half years later, the gaang will run into the blue spirit in a town that's having vampire trouble and end up working with him to get rid of it.

zuko quickly realizes a) that's the fucking avatar and b.) they don't know he's a vampire. aang takes an interest in the blue spirit and asks if he'll come with them to the north pole. zuko turns him down- his nocturnal lifestyle doesn't make him a good traveling companion. just ask uncle. they part ways there.

...then the avatar gets himself captured.

zuko sighs. breaks the avatar out. takes an arrow to the head. has a vision of the moon spirit talking to him who says she'll grant him that boon a little early, if he agrees to accompany the avatar. zuko wakes up. it's daytime, but for some reason he isn't dead. moon spirit made him a daywalker. the avatar asks zuko if he'd like to come with him again.

...sure?

[astro-nomaly]

Sword and Shield (greenflower)

jfc i feel insane. i had to get this au out of my head so i wrote this first draft thing in two days anyways this is probably all i'll write at least for a while bc i don't have an actual set storyline and i really need to write tkal lmao. this is technically 2 chapters but whatever they made sense together

anyways @morroodle this is for you dude and uh sorry if this crashes anyone's browser. no cw for this

Brad Tudabone is 17 years old – almost 18 (if ‘in seven months’ counts as ‘almost’) - and is currently climbing the tallest mountain in Ninjago.  

Now, the Realm has its fair share of mountains. The Golden Peaks of the West (the existence of which is not confirmed) in the Endless Sea are supposed to be taller than the sea is deep. Less impressively, the Shintaro Mountain range in the Southern Province stretches dozens of miles high, and the Caves of Despair are the most treacherous peaks in the world. But Brad is conquering something a little more difficult - the Mountains of Impossible Height.  

Honestly, the name was an exaggeration. It was, at best, the Mountains of Incredibly Dangerous Do Not Attempt for Fear of Death. Brad had only almost died, like, five times. And his arm was probably fractured, but whatever.  

He huddled against the cave wall, wincing as the sharp edges dug into the thin fabric of his shirt. Dammit, he should’ve brought a coat. He scowled at his fraying boots, one cold toe poking through. Should’ve brought better boots, too. Who knew climbing the world’s tallest mountain was such hard work?  

Brad was taking shelter in a small cave carved into the side of the Mountain of Impossible Height, which was a mouthful, waiting for the rain to pass. This high up, a light shower could kill him. He was already freezing.  

Brad shuffled a little closer to the small fire he had going, huffing into his hands. Next time, he would bring gloves that covered his fingers. Man, fingerless gloves looked so cool though! Though, it’s not like anyone else he knew wore them.  

To pass the time as he warmed up, Brad pulled an ancient scroll from his bag of assorted supplies, most of which he needed more of. Climbing mountains sucked.  

The scroll was fraying, yellow and browning around the edges. The thing was only a few decades old, but hadn’t been preserved well. Brad had found it only a month or two ago while poking around a half-destroyed museum, courtesy of the Oni army.  

Ugh. Brad hated the Oni. They’d shown up, what, fifty years ago?  So far, the army had been kept at bay by the holders of the Golden Weapons - weapons people didn’t know even existed - and Wu, the son of the First Spinjitzu Master – supposedly. No one knew if the god was real or not, but the dragon demigod of creation pointed to ‘yes’. The army had come out of a strange portal from the First Realm, a place no one was sure even existed before the arrival of the four-armed demons. They were led by yet another legendary figure; Garmadon, the Oni demigod of destruction and the first son of the FSM.  

There was a running theme here. Fifty years ago, several ancient legends were confirmed to be true as magic and elements were thrust into their realm. So, Brad felt confident about this legend as well.  

The Sword of Sanctuary. The scroll Brad scavenged from the museum rubble illustrated a lustrous golden sword surrounded by elegant text. The sword was, supposedly, the legendary weapon of the FSM himself, and super powerful to boot.  

It made sense, didn’t it? If demigods of creation and destruction were real, and other realms were real, and the elemental Golden Weapons then didn’t it stand to reason that the guy who made those weapons and fathered those demigods existed? If the FSM was real, then the sword was too, and that meant it could be useful.  

Everyone Brad reported his theory to – his overworked mom, his friends, the cops – laughed in his face. After fifty years of war that went almost nowhere, no matter how many dragons showed up to help, people were tired and low on hope. Every day the Oni army got closer to capturing the capital city, and if they did, they’d have easy access to the other four provinces. People needed practical solutions, not fairytales.  

But Brad knew that this wasn’t a fairytale. The sword was real, he just knew it. Was it a little presumptuous to assume that he could use it? Maybe. Brad was a normal guy – he played basketball, he gardened, and he was self-taught in using any kind of weapon. He didn’t know a single martial arts form, and his go-to for winning fights was the kick the other guy in the crotch and run. (Which, by the way, totally worked.) But even if Brad himself couldn’t use the sword, couldn’t someone else? One of the elemental masters, or even Wu? It didn’t matter who had the sword - if Brad found it, he could find someone to use it and win the fight.  

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want the sword, though. Brad hated feeling so useless all the time. His mom worked day and night to keep their apartment and put food on the table, half of which Brad grew in their own house. All his friends were either enlisted or contributing to society somehow. But Brad... didn’t really want to be in the army. Sure, fighting demons sounded cool, but he wanted adventure, not barracks and boot camp.  

If Brad found the Sword of Sanctuary, not only could the humans win the war, but Brad would be a hero.  

Besides, how cool would a magic sword be? Brad’s thinking lasers.  

He traced the thin letters around the illustration. He should, if the scroll isn’t lying to him, find some sort of temple at the top of the mountain, and the sword inside. Just like the last few days on this mountain, the scroll strengthened his resolve. He wasn’t just doing it for the adventure – though, if Ninjago weren’t in such dire straits, he would probably still do this – he was also doing it for Ninjago. For his mom, for Gene, who worked all the time trying to develop better technologies, and for all the citizens of Ninjago City who wanted just one good day.  

He tucked the scroll back into his bag, careful to make sure it wouldn’t crease or tear, and settled on his side. The rain wasn’t letting up any time soon. Might as well sleep.  

Brad dreams of Green. Not green, like the color, but Green. It’s life, it’s beauty, it’s the forest floor dappled in sunlight and the tall field grass swaying in a gentle breeze. It’s the shine of a bright grin and the adrenaline of a race. The Green is everywhere, all-consuming and shining like a star. Sheer gold peeks through the cracks, brighter than the sun itself.  

It’s crying.  

“Let me out,” the Green and Gold begs. The words don’t exist. They’re a compilation of feelings, hopes and dreams and everything else the universe can’t quantify. It’s like Brad has been granted a window into the soul of the realm itself, only to find that it was looking back.  

The words come in a melody, sweet and bright and lulling him to an even deeper sleep despite the sheer desperation leaking through.  

“LET ME OUT!” The Green and Gold screams, but Brad can only dip further into sleep.  

For the rest of the night, he dreams of darkness. 

Brad hates mountains. He’s been on this damned mountain for five days, ran out of food two days and has been random fruit since, and has no idea where he is. He briefly entertains the thought of dying up here before shaking it from his mind. He knows he’s getting closer – this mountain can’t get too much taller, can it?  

He shivers, clutching his arms as he stalks up the natural pathway. It’s overgrown and treacherous, but he’s lucky nonetheless that a path exists at all. It only supports his mission – at some point, people were here.  

“’Course, they probably had coats,” he muttered. He’s been talking to himself lately, which isn’t ideal, but whatever.  

He cut through a particularly nasty bramble patch in his way with his katana. It was an old, chipped thing, supposedly belonging to his father at some point. He didn’t have any attachment to the guy; he died before Brad was born. Still, a sword was a sword.  

Not as cool as the Sword of Sanctuary, though. 

Surprisingly, though, today seems to be a good day for Brad. For the past five days, the mountain had only gotten more and more treacherous, trying its best to kill him at every turn. He’s had to dodge wolves, evil birds, navigate horrendously narrow pathways and climb vertical cliff faces. Nothing so far has been easy – except now. The path levels out, the jagged rocks become smooth- 

Water. 

Brad laughs in disbelief. There’s a river! Oh, he’s missed water. He bends at the bank, scooping water in his mouth. It’s cold as it slides down his throat, and he drinks greedily.  

He wipes his mouth, sated, and takes another second to look around. The mountain is starting to level out, and greenery fills the area. The trees are lusher than they have any right to be, bearing fruit that definitely isn’t in season. It’s warmer now, too, which is weird so high up. The ground is crawling with bright green vines, flowering in shades of unnatural gold.  

“...huh,” he says. The Mountain of Impossible Height has been inhospitable to a fault so far. Why is it suddenly so nice? A refreshing river, fruit-bearing trees, smooth pathways?  

“Either something is horrifically wrong or terrifically right,” Brad said, adjusting the strap of his bag as he stood. He followed the path, holding his katana cautiously. But nothing came out at him. Birds literally sang in the treetops, a few does bound through the increasingly thick trees, hell, a butterfly literally landed on his nose at one point. It was as if he’d crossed a threshold.  

Brad soon came to an actual pathway, made up of cobblestone overgrown with moss. He followed the winding road, growing more and more excited as lamps began to dress the grass along the path.  

Then- a monastery.  

Brad gaped at the sight. A large red Torii gate stood before him, and further down the path, a grand monastery. It was gated by a tall solid stone fence, overgrown with flowering vines and moss. Brad whooped, running along the path until he reached the entrance, throwing the double doors open with a laugh.  

He came into a courtyard with a golden dragon statue in the middle. If he wasn’t sure of this place before, he was now. This had to be it. The home of the Sword of Sanctuary.  

He stepped forward carefully, looking around the courtyard. It was wholly abandoned and overgrown in greenery. It was beautiful, yes, but eerie as well. Like a school at midnight, or a graveyard at night. Otherworldly.  

“Hello?” He called, just to be safe. He didn’t want to upset a possible deity or something.  

Nothing. He shrugged and poked around on the wrap-around porch. He slid open the doors inside and recoiled at the smell of dust. Yeah, this place hadn’t been touched for a while.  

He stepped inside, feeling as though he’d come into another realm entirely. Yeah, this had ‘school at midnight’ vibes. The halls were dark, lit only by the fading sunlight that shown through the aged walls and grimy windows. Every step he took made the floorboards creak and groan.  

He followed the hall, humming nervously. He poked his head in every door he came across but just found abandoned bedrooms and bathrooms. There was a large kitchen, a couch and TV – weird – and a small armory. He made his way around the entire monastery, and didn’t find anything of note.  

He sighed, flopping down on the couch. Dust rose up around him, settling on the disturbed surface.  

“Think, Tudabone,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, pulled back by a red bandana. There had to be something here that would lead him to the sword.  

“A basement!” He exclaimed, smacking his forehead. Of course! Who would leave a mega-powerful legendary sword laying around for anyone to nab? There had to be a hidden room or basement or-  

“Or not,” he said, staring at the ceiling. Outside, he’d made note of the way the roof accommodated what seemed to be two extra rooms stacked on each other above the entrance doors, featuring round windows.  

He vaguely recalled a faint light coming from the very top window, what he’d assumed to be sunlight.  

Well, he’s looked everywhere else.  

Brad quickly ran back outside, looking up at the extra two stories, rising into a tower. The sun was going down now, but the golden light remained in the uppermost window. He grinned and looked for a way to get up to it. The stone around the double gates was crumbling, revealing convenient footholds.  

He crossed the courtyard, hauling himself up the wall until he stood on the narrow shingles, balancing carefully. He slowly put one foot in front of the other, making his way over to the wider part of the roof. When he did, he scrambled over the roof to the second story, holding the red column that supported the roof.  

Brad stretched on his toes, trying to grasp the edge of the second story’s slanted roof. He was a tall guy, but damn! When he finally got his fingers over the edge, he jumped the extra few inches to grab on with his other hand. Brad breathed heavily, swaying lightly from the roof. He grunted as he pulled himself up, using the shingles as leverage until he could awkwardly kneel on the second story roof. The third story was small, and the window was too grimy to see through. But up close, he could definitely tell that the golden light was emitting from this room.  

He fumbled with the round window, searching for a latch. The latch was on the inside, but a little jiggling got the run-down window to slowly creak open. Brad tumbled through, landing on his knees and cutting up his palm with splinters. He hissed, drawing his hand to his chest.  

Inside the room, he felt warmth as golden light bathed his body. He looked up just for his breath to catch in his throat with a gasp.  

The Sword of Sanctuary.  

Brad didn’t need to reference the scroll to know that this was the sword. It gleamed in the sunset, emitting a soft golden light from its spotless blade. The blade seemed to be painted with every color of the waning and rising sun, thrumming with light. Warmth emanated from it, bathing the room in honey. The hilt curved inward elegantly, and in the middle rested a magnificent green gem. Brad couldn’t tell if it was emerald – it seemed too ethereal to come from the earth.  

The sword was held downward by a statue. The statue was a simple androgynous person with intricately carved feathered wings draping their body like a chiton, and a crown resting upon their brow. Otherwise, they were bare. Their eyes were closed, and their expression seemed to leak with sadness as they clutched the sword by the hilt.  

Brad stepped forward, enraptured by the sight of the sword. The green gem, originally inactive, pulsed and light up with light like it had sensed him. Brad stopped, holding his breath. The gem simply continued to glow.  

“Right, right,” Brad whispered, strangely short of breath, “watch out for boobytraps.” He looked around for tripwires or plates but found nothing. The walls were decorated with woven tapestries of the Golden Weapons, and behind the statue on either side were an Oni and a dragon. Otherwise, the room was empty.  

Okay. No boobytraps – maybe it was a test of character? He’d seen books like that.  

“Hey... sword,” he said, feeling a little dumb, “I’m not going to use you for, like, evil. I’m here to save people, so please don’t kill me.” 

He left his katana and satchel on the floor, slowly walking toward the statue. The green gem, somehow demanding more attention than the ethereal blade, thrummed in time with his footsteps, glowing brighter as he got closer. He hoped that wasn’t a bad sign.  

Brad hesitated, reaching for the sword. His hand curled, hesitant, before he used both hands to grab the sword by the curling hilt. The second he laid hands on it, the sword lit up even brighter, shining brighter than the sun.  

Brad shut his eyes against the onslaught of light, grunting, but didn’t let go. The sword was hot, now, but it wasn’t painful. It was like a melty cookie, or a space heater – warm, comforting, soft.  

He squinted, and tugged. The statue’s hands held the sword tightly. Brad braced his feet, trying to adjust for more leverage. “Come on,” he said, tugging again. “Please,” he whispered, “I need you.” 

With each increasingly hard tug, the sword somehow became brighter and brighter. It was audibly humming now, filling the air with a strangely familiar melody. The smell of flowers filled the air, wafting in the dusty room. Wind ruffled the tapestries as Brad pulled at the sword harder and harder.  

He grit his teeth, tightened his hold, and pulled as hard as he possibly could.  

The stone hands around the sword cracked and fell, releasing the sword. With one final burst of light, the sword fell forward, and Brad toppled from the momentum of his pull.  

He stumbled back, breathing heavily, as the sword dimmed, slowly ceasing the thrumming and humming. The wind died down, and the scent of flowers settled with the dust.  

Brad stared down at the sword, its blade gleaming like new, breathless. He laughed, little bursts falling from his mouth. “I did it,” he whispered, disbelieving, “I did it! I got the sword!” 

The winged statue crumbled to pieces. Brad flinched, jumping back, as the stone fell away in chunks. “Ooh,” he winced, “that’s... that’s not a great sign.” 

He waited for something else to happen, but nothing did.  

“...huh. Okay." He looked down at the sword. “You're not going to disintegrate me, right? We’re chill?” The sword did not respond.  

He grinned, readjusting his grip to hold the actual handle. He noticed, belatedly, that the pommel is a second, smaller green gem encased in gold. He holds the sword up high, tilting it back and forth to catch the fading light.  

“Heh,” he laughs, swinging it in a slow arc through the air. He hears an audible swish, and laughs again. He feels so cool! Him, regular old Brad Tudabone, wielding the legendary Sword of Sanctuary with ease! He even feels stronger for it, like he could sprint a hundred miles or punch straight through a mountain. “This is so cool,” he says, cutting another arc through the air. He twirls the sword, taking it the way the light creates a kaleidoscope.  

Brad wonders what the sword can really do. Does it shoot lasers? Is it telekinetic, somehow? Or- ooh, he saw an anime where the sword duplicated itself once, that would epic. He traces the blade reverently, imagining everything the sword could possibly accomplish against the Oni. He notices soft green vines, thin and fragile, curling up from the golden hilt against the sunset blade. He smiles.  

“I bet someone was real lucky to have this,” he thinks aloud, “you’re going to help so many people, y’know. Ugh, I wish you could talk. I want to know everything.”  

As if he’s said some kind of code word, the blade begins to shudder. Brad makes a startled noise, holding the sword at arm's length. The green gem begins to glow brighter than ever, thrumming violently. The blade itself warps, the previously soft hues becoming eye-scorching shades of burning violets and yellows. Brad feels nauseous just looking at it, but he can’t seem to let go.  

“No, no, no-” he gasps, arms shaking from the strain as the sword grows more violent by the second, “please, stop, no, no, no-” he begs, but the sword isn’t listening anymore. It’s gone from elegant and soft to nauseating as colors blend into each other. The hilt itself begins to warp, curling inward as the metal melts into itself. Glowing cracks emanate from the green gem as bright, scorching cracks appear in the sword. Brad gasps, frantically shaking the sword as if he can make it stop.  

Then light like a flashbang overtakes the entire room, blinding Brad, and he falls on his butt.  

Brad comes to slowly, still blinking rainbow spots out of his eyes. He’s pinned to the floor by something on his stomach and legs, and quickly realizes that the weight is moving. He rubs his eyes, propping his upper half up.  

There is a person on his lap.  

Brad gapes, once again speechless. By now, the moon is up, framing the person in a halo of cold light that only accentuates the sheer warmth leaking off of them. They have long golden hair that curls down to their shoulders, fluffy and soft and shining. A light gold and green diadem rests on their head, secured in their thick hair. They’re dressed in a white, sleeveless sort of shirt, ruffled and flowing at the end. The top folds over their shoulders, lined in green and tiny little emerald gemstones. Their legs are covered by a long white cloth that’s secured by another silky material with a gold chain. Their legs are otherwise bare and freckled. Their skin is a soft tan, golden in the moonlight.  

They’re really, really cute. And they’re on Brad’s lap.  

Okay Tudabone, don’t mess this up.  

The person groans softly, face twitching. Their eyelashes are as golden as their hair, and underneath their eyes are soft golden markings, curly and elegant. He can respect the color scheme.  

Brad watches as their eyes flutter open, confused and dazed. Their irises are a beautiful emerald green, shining in every shade Brad can think of. Their pupils are shaped like miniature twinkling stars, again golden. Golden pupils – strange. As they slowly adjust, making confused noises, their pointed ears twitch rapidly.  

That’s really cute, Brad thinks, face hot.  

They seem to realize that they’re sitting on Brad, and stare up at him with giant green doe eyes. Brad’s face gets even hotter the longer they make eye contact.  

“...hi,” they whisper softly. Their voice is oddly familiar, like a melody he’s heard before.  

He swallows thickly. “Hi,” he responds softly, not willing to break the strange spell over the room.  

The blonde looks around, and they don’t seem to recognize their surroundings. “Wh- who- where-” they mutter, and Brad starts to get concerned. He holds them by the arms gently, trying to corral them up off of him.  

“Are you okay?” He asks. The person nods vaguely, slowly wobbling to their feet. Brad notices that their feet are bare with a grimace. They could easily cut their skin on splinters.  

They stare down at their own freckled hands, inspecting their skin. Now that Brad’s had a few seconds to get his bearings, he’s getting really freaked out. Ten seconds ago, he was holding the Sword of Sanctuary when it suddenly began warping and glowing. Now there’s a blonde person dressed in oddly ancient-looking clothes, acting as if they've never seen their own hands before.  

“Hey, are you okay?” He asks again, because he might be freaked out, but this person is obviously not okay. They hum, twisting around to look at him with those giant green eyes. They’re practically glowing in the moonlight.  

“Where are we?" They ask. Brad blinks, surprised.  

“The- the Mountain of Impossible Height. Seriously, are you feeling alright? You seem confused.” 

They touch their forehead, eyes shutting like they’ve encountered a sudden headache. It draws Brad’s attention to the strange golden tattoo imprinted on their forehead like a little tiara.  

“How- who are you?” They demand.  

“Brad,” he answers gently. “Look, I don’t mean to push, but twenty seconds ago I was holding a magic sword. Now you’re here. Where did you come from?” 

“A sword?” They’re suddenly staring at him with intensity. “What do you know about the sword?”  

Brad holds his hands up, trying to calm them. “Hey, I just found it here. It freaked out and boom, here you are. I’m just as confused as you. Here, look.” Brad scooped his bag off the floor, brandishing the worn scroll to the stranger. “Look, this is what I was looking for.” 

They snatch the scroll, eyes raking over it. “...does anyone else know about this?”  

“No, no one else believed me. Why? Really, you just came out of no... where...” Brad trails off slowly. The sword was golden, inlaid with green gemstones that seemed to come from the stars themselves.  

This person speaks with a melodious voice, just as soft and ethereal as the sword. They’re dressed in white, yes, but marked with golden tattoos. Their eyes are such a pure, glittering green that Brad can’t stand to look at them for too long.  

His eyes inadvertently lock onto their chest. Two sparkling green gemstones are imbedded in their skin, softly thrumming.  

“You’re the sword,” he says dumbly.  

They stiffen, eyes wild like a deer in headlights. The two stare at one another, frozen. The blonde – the Sword of Sanctuary who is a person – goes from a terrified stare to a glare. “What do you know about this?” They demand, waving the scroll at Brad. “Why did you come looking for me?” 

“I just found it!” Brad defended, “I was looking for the sword- for you because you’re supposed to be really powerful! Look, you belonged to the First Master, right?” 

“I don’t belong to anyone,” they snarled. Brad nodded.  

“Okay, okay. But still, you’re all about justice and whatnot, right? Look, there’s this huge Oni army, and they’re hurting people. I came looking for you because you were supposed to help.” 

“Oni army?” They ask, their gaze intense.  

Brad nodded. “Yeah, and they’re close to taking over Ninjago City. Can’t you do anything?” 

They hum, tapping the parchment. “How long has it been?” 

“What?” 

“How long has the army been in Ninjago?” 

“Oh,” Brad hummed, “about... fifty years, give or take. It’s been a while.” 

Their eyes grow huge, pupils shrinking. “Fifty years?!” They cry, their harsh grip creasing the scroll. Brad nodded, confused. They clutch at their hair, breaths suddenly coming in sharp gasps. “It’s been fifty years?!” They whisper to themself.  

Brad steps forward, but they recoil as if he’d threatened them with a knife. “Don’t touch me!” They shriek. Brad freezes as they shake in place. Tears begin to grow in their eyes, and their shoulders fall as their face crumples.  

“Fifty years...” they mumble, holding their face in their hand.  

“Have... have you been in that sword this entire time?” Brad asks incredulously. “Why?” 

They shake their head. “I didn’t have a choice,” they mumble miserably, shoulders shaking.  

Brad makes an affronted noise. “Somebody did that to you? Why?! Did you do something evil?” 

“No, I’m not evil!” 

“Then I’ll punch them in the face,” Brad decided, punching his fist into his palm and looking around like the culprit would suddenly appear.  

They let out a startled laugh through tears. “Y-you definitely can’t do that,” they say, wiping their eyes. Brad scoffs.  

“Yeah? Why not?” 

“He’d probably kill you,” they mutter. Their expression crumbles all over again, misery etching their face. “Fifty years...” they mumble, sniffling. “And nobody came for me. Not my uncle... not my brothers and sister... nobody except you.” 

Brad grimaced. “...I do my best?” 

They make a sound between a laugh and a sob. “I-I’m sorry. Brad, right? You probably want an explanation.” 

He shakes his head, reaching out tentatively. When they don’t freak out again, he rests his hand on their arm. “It’s okay,” he says, “you’re upset. You don’t have to explain anything. Actually, I can just fuck off if I’m stressing you out-” 

They shake their head, wiping away any lingering tears. “It’s okay. You came all this way.” 

“Well... okay,” Brad pulls them to the floor so they can sit down. He lets go of their arm once he’s sure they’re not going to topple over. “So, how are you a sword? Or, I guess, how is a sword a person. Which came first, the person or the sword?” 

They shake their head, mixed between amusement and that ever-present misery. “It’s not like that,” they say, “I wasn’t always a sword. I used to be a person.” 

“Oh,” Brad says, “so someone turned you into a sword. But if the sword belonged to that Spinjitzu guy, shouldn’t you be... older?” 

“Nice to know I look young,” they joke. “But yeah, I’m only sixteen. I wasn’t turned into a sword so much as I was fused with it. Like a curse, kind of.” 

Brad nodded. So, this person, whoever they were, was fused with the FSM’s sword? Why the hell would anyone do that just to leave them in some dusty monastery? “Well, if you’re a person first, what’s your name?” Brad asks, tired of not knowing. They blink, surprised, like they hadn’t conceived that Brad would care to ask for a name.  

“...Lloyd Garmadon.” 

Brad gaped. “Garmadon? As in Emperor Garmadon?!” 

Lloyd made a face. “Is that what he’s calling himself? Ugh, my dad is cringy. Yes, I’m the son of Garmadon. He’s... actually the one that fused me with the sword.” 

“His own son? That’s- really fucked up,” Brad didn’t even know how to react. Who does that to their own kid? Was it some sort of twisted immortal being punishment? What could Lloyd have possibly done? 

Lloyd drew his knees up to his chest, resting his head in the soft white fabric of his tunic. “It’s complicated,” he mumbled, picking at the fine golden threads lining his clothes. “My dad was banished to the First Realm when I was four after he tried to steal the Golden Weapons. I grew up with my uncle and his students, the elemental masters. I became the Green Ninja when I was fourteen, and Garmadon returned when I was sixteen.”  

“You were a ninja? What’s your element?” Brad leaned forward.  

Lloyd smiled wistfully. “The Green element.” 

“What... what is that.” 

He laughed, and Brad blushed at the sound. “I can’t explain it to you. The words don’t exist in a language mortals can comprehend. The closest thing is... energy. The energy within everything.” 

“Wow,” Brad breathed, “it must’ve been epic.” 

“It was,” Lloyd agreed, “it was incredible.” 

Brad hummed, picking at the floor. “If you were so powerful, though, how did Garmadon... swordify? Is that the term? How’d he swordify you?” 

Lloyd’s face spasmed in a mix of embarrassment and regret. “It was my fault,” he mumbled, eyes downcast, “Uncle Wu didn’t want me to fight him. He wanted me kept far away from Garmadon. But after months of no progress, I... I confronted him. I thought I could get him to listen. Instead, he put me in a sword.” 

“But... how?” 

“I was stupid,” Lloyd said, “I refused to fight him. I let myself get tricked, and he... it doesn’t matter,” Lloyd fiercely wiped at his face, erasing any sign of tears before they could appear. “M-my uncle saved me, that’s the point. He stole me back, and changed the curse. Uncle Wu made sure that nobody could use the Green Element, and so long as I’m here, I have free will.”  

Brad’s face screwed up, confused. “Free will? What does that mean?”  

Lloyd’s expression spasmed again, and he stared at the floor, eyebrows furrowed. “I- okay. My father turned me into a sword to use my element. When he did, he stripped away my free will. Basically, whoever picks me up as a sword becomes my wielder, and they control whether I’m human. I physically can’t disobey them.” 

Brad struggled to wrap his head around it. “Like... Ella Enchanted?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“That movie! The girl has to obey everyone, and can’t say no. Like, the stepsisters-” 

Lloyd let out a dry laugh, sniffling. “Actually, yes. Except only my wielder controls me, and they turn me into a sword. I can’t switch by myself.” 

Brad snapped his fingers, “hey, doesn’t that mean that your uncle was your last wielder? Why’d he leave you like this? What a dick.” 

Lloyd shook with laughter. “Good question. Maybe he wanted to protect me, or make sure I didn’t run away again. Not that I could. If I get too far away from a wielder, I just turn back into a sword.” 

“Speaking from experience?” 

Lloyd bit his lip and nodded. Brad scoffed. “I’m going to punch Garmadon in the face.” 

“Good luck with that,” Lloyd said, smoothing out the creases in his tunic. “I, for one, would love to punch my father.” 

Lloyd’s words gave Brad a sudden idea, and he shot to his feet, pacing back and forth. Lloyd watched him from the floor, somewhat wary, but Brad was too caught up in his head.  

“That’s it,” he muttered, running a hand through his disheveled hair, “wait, that’s it!” 

“What is? Punching Garmadon? I’m all for it, but-” 

“No- well, yes, but no,” Brad turned back to Lloyd, who’s head was tilted to the side in confusion. Brad blushed briefly at the sight, before shaking it away. “Lloyd, I’m your new wielder, right? I picked you up, I think I made you human-” 

“It doesn’t work in here,” Lloyd snapped defensively, crossing his arms over himself protectively. “You can’t order me around in the monastery, and I’ll kick your ass if you try.” 

“No!” Brad waved his hands, “No, I wouldn’t do that! I mean, if I’m your wielder, and someone can only control you if they pick you up as a sword, what if I just never turn you into a sword? Loophole!” 

“For what?” Lloyd asked, exasperated. Brad grinned.  

“If no one – especially Garmadon – can ever steal you, then you’re free to use your element without anyone controlling you! I get that you can’t get too far away from me – so we’ll stick together. I’ll take you to Ninjago City, and you’ll kick Garmadon’s ass with your epic element! I can cheer you on in the background, it’ll be great!” 

Lloyd’s eyes grew big as his face went straight back to miserable. “I- I can’t.” He hugged his legs to his chest, looking at anything but Brad as if he was ashamed. Brad deflated, staring down at him.  

“But... why? You’re a ninja, aren’t you? Isn’t fighting evil emperors your whole thing?” 

“No, I can’t use my element,” Lloyd corrected in a small voice. “My element was sealed away in the sword. And since Uncle Wu made it so that nobody could use my element, that means that the Green Element is gone. Nobody, not even me, can use it anymore. I can’t even do Spinjitzu.” 

Brad’s shoulders fell as his excitement flew out of him. “...oh. Well, that sucks.” 

Brad sat back down across from Lloyd, who was curled into himself as if he could hide in the white swathes of clothing. Brad felt kind of silly, now. Like, no duh! Why would an evil warlord leave his prisoner’s power unchained?  

Lloyd sniffled. “I’m sorry, Brad,” he said quietly. “I wish I could help. But I- I can’t leave and let people use me. I can’t just give up my body so people can swing me around and kill people with me. I just...” 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Brad said, scooting closer to Lloyd. He laid a hand on Lloyd’s freckled shoulder, and froze when Lloyd fell into him, leaning on his side. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arm around the demigod, letting Lloyd leach off of his warmth. Lloyd himself was warm to the touch, and Brad’s skin reflected the glow, ever so faint. 

Brad sighed. He was fucked, wasn’t he? Well, at least this wasn’t for nothing. He looked down at Lloyd, and let a smile cross his face. At least Lloyd wouldn’t have to be trapped inside of that sword forever.  

“We might still win anyways,” he mused aloud, mostly just to fill the silence, “I mean, dragons show up all the time to help out, and we still have the Golden Weapons. We’ll be fine.” 

Lloyd hummed, tracing the wood of the floor idly. “Still... I hate to let you down.” 

“No let down here! I came here for a sword and found a friend. Uh... are we friends?” 

Lloyd turned his face up to smile at Brad, green eyes crinkling. The tattoo on his forehead glowed briefly, like Lloyd’s smile couldn’t be contained to his mouth. “Yeah,” he said, “we’re friends.” 

Brad’s face grew hot, and he coughed, looking away before he spontaneously combusted. Lloyd didn’t seem to notice, and drew himself up, dusting off his tunic.  

“Hey, I know I’ve been kind of disappointing-” 

“Not at all!” Brad jumped to his feet, and immediately felt stupid for yelling. Lloyd froze, eyes wide, before he laughed, a light blush covering his cheeks.  

“Anyways. Stay for a while? It’s lonely up here.” 

Brad hesitated. He’d left his mom, who was surely wondering where the hell he was, and Gene was probably worried as well. But looking at Lloyd’s hopeful expression, he couldn’t say no.  

“Sure. You have a garden?” 

Lloyd’s bright golden smile made it all worth it.  

Lloyd led him through the monastery, introducing him to a bedroom that once belonged to Cole Brookstone, the Master of Earth. Brad was astounded to learn how long Elemental Masters truly lived – the same ones Lloyd grew up with over 60 years ago were still kicking, wiping Oni ass.  

“Sorry for the mess,” Lloyd said, gathering the dusty comforter up, “ugh, I hope the washer still works.” 

Brad chuckled, shaking dust off of the pillows. “We’ve got some cleaning ahead of us. I can start on laundry.” 

Lloyd seemed surprised at the offer, before his eyes crinkled in a smile as the little gemstones imbedded in his chest glowed, twinkling like happy little stars. Brad couldn’t help the pink that spread across his cheeks. Man, if Lloyd continued smiling at him like that, Brad thinks he would do anything for him.  

Oh wow, he was whipped. Gene was going to make so much fun of him.  

That is, essentially, how Brad spends the next several days. He and Lloyd unearth ancient cleaning supplies and do their best tackling the dust and grime settled over the monastery. Lloyd, surprisingly adept with technology, tackles the appliances and power while Brad curb stomps the overgrown garden into submission. They both spend hours in the sun and crisp breeze cleaning the courtyard, and every night they do dishes together.  

Just two weeks ago, Brad was adrift. He didn’t know what he wanted from life – just that he wanted more. Now he spends his days in a monastery on the world’s tallest mountain with the oddest boy he’s ever met, and it’s the happiest he’s ever been.  

Lloyd is funny. He’s wry, and sharp, and through his hesitance is cheeky humor that Brad can’t help but find endlessly endearing, even when it’s used to dump buckets of water over his head.  

Somehow, Lloyd Garmadon has made this one of the best weeks of his life.  

Even if he has to leave soon.  

Brad splayed over a sofa in the library, idly flicking through scrolls and books. Lloyd was in the courtyard practicing katas and what Brad thinks might be Spinjitzu – minus the magic tornado.  

His thoughts are all over the place. On the one hand, he has to go. His mom and Gene will be worried, and he hates worrying them. On the other, all Brad wants is an adventure. Lloyd is quickly becoming a close friend, despite them not really sharing that much about themselves. Brad is just so easily drawn to him – or maybe that’s his raging ‘cute boy’ radar.  

He groaned, staring at the ceiling. If he left, he’d be doing more than leaving behind a close friend – he'd be leaving Lloyd all alone. In fifty years, Brad was the only person to come up here. Who would Lloyd talk to about Starfarer, or beat in Mario Kart, or do the dishes with? He’d be up on this tall mountain all alone.  

He wished there was a way to give Lloyd freedom. He saw the way the demigod looked at into the distance sometimes – like there was nothing he wanted more than to run out of this monastery as fast as possible and never look back.  

“I’m so punching Garmadon,” Brad grumbled, picking up the random scrolls he’d been looking through. Boring stuff, honestly. As he was setting them back in their respective nooks, his eye caught on one, seemingly disturbed. Curiously, he unfurled it.  

A sketch, done in quick, fluid pencil, of the four Golden Weapons. Those things were old news, but what interested Brad was the Sword of Sanctuary in the middle. His eyes roved over the words, and startled as he made out the characters spelling Lloyd’s name.  

“Holy shit,” he whispered, rereading the text in astonishment. He laughed, bouncing in place. “Lloyd! Lloyd, holy shit!” 

A few seconds later, the doors to the library slammed open, and Lloyd burst through the door with his fists up. He deflated when he saw Brad with the scroll.  

“Is... something wrong?” Brad grinned, holding out the scroll.  

“Lloyd, you’ve got to see this. It’s the solution!” 

Lloyd took the scroll, reading carefully. His eyes widened the more he read, clutching the scroll tightly. “This... oh, grandfather.” 

Brad grabbed Lloyd’s wrists, causing the blonde to look up at him. “Lloyd,” he breathed, “this is our answer. We can cure your curse and beat Garmadon.” 

“The Golden Weapons... can break the curse,” Lloyd whispered. A small, hesitant smile grew on his face as hope shined in his eyes. “They- they can get me out of the sword.” 

Hypothetically. The scroll was vague, and seemingly all hypotheticals, but it was hope. Hope for Lloyd, and Ninjago.  

Brad held Lloyd’s hands to his chest. “Then let’s go get them,” he urged. Lloyd shrunk away a bit.  

“But if I leave...” 

“Lloyd, please,” Brad begged. “I’m your wielder, aren’t I? Well, I promise, I will never make you shift. I won’t ever order you around, and I won’t ever ignore you if you don’t want to do something.” 

“But...”  

Lloyd was terrified of losing his free will. From his perspective, Brad could be lying. His words didn’t mean much when they’d known each other for a week.  

“Do you really want to wait around for your uncle to do it?” Brad pressed, desperate. He felt bad for pressuring Lloyd, but he also knew that if they could make this work, then Ninjago would be safe. “Lloyd, we can do this, can’t we? One kickass demigod and a swordsman!” 

Lloyd gave him an unimpressed look. “Are you even trained?” 

“I am... self-taught.” 

Lloyd drew back, staring down at the scroll. Brad sighed, and retracted his hands. “I won’t make you,” he said softly, “If you really don’t want to, then I won’t try to make you. But don’t you want to be free?” 

“And how do I know you won’t just turn me into a sword the second I step out that door?” Lloyd demanded. His voice cracked. “It’s what anyone would do! I- I'm not even a person to you.” 

Brad crossed his arms. “Okay, rude.” 

“What?” 

“Rude! Man, when I have acted like you’re not a person? I mean, you’re a mega powerful demigod, but that’s different than ‘not a person’. I mean it, Lloyd – I won’t force you to do anything.” 

Lloyd furrowed his brows. “I make a pretty kickass sword,” he warned, “you’ll be very sorely tempted. Not to mention all the people that will be after me.” 

“They can’t do anything to you,” Brad reminded with a smile, “not if I never turn you into a sword. Which I won’t, because you’re my friend.” 

Lloyd hummed thoughtfully. “...I’ve been wanting to kick my dad’s ass for a while,” he muttered vindictively.  

“Come on,” Brad said, “adventure of a lifetime!” 

“We’ll have to cross the entire continent.” 

“Road trip!” 

“We’ll be facing down my father’s worst soldiers, and neither of us have powers.” 

“We’ll be crafty. You’re a ninja, aren’t you?” 

Lloyd hesitated, and Brad could tell he was on the precipice. He softened his gaze. “Lloyd,” he said quietly, “you could wait for someone else to come along and free you... or you can free yourself.” 

“Why?” Lloyd muttered. He seemed genuinely curious. “Why risk your life for me like this? You realize that you’ll be in constant danger.” 

“Dude, why wouldn’t I? We break your curse, you get your powers back, and boom! Garmadon defeated, Ninjago saved. Besides,” he blushed, “an adventure? With you? Sign me up.” 

Lloyd fell quiet, his green eyes calculating. The gemstones on his chest betrayed his growing excitement as they began to light up, thrumming with their own melody.  

“Okay,” Lloyd breathed, his eyes brighter than Brad had ever seen them. The sight took his breath away.  

“Okay?” He said. Lloyd nodded vigorously, bouncing in excitement.  

“Yes! Let’s do it!”  

Brad laughed, tackling Lloyd in a hug. The shorter blonde startled, letting out a surprised laugh.  

“I am,” Lloyd said when they pulled away, “so ready to leave this monastery.” 

They find themselves, hours later, at the gate of the monastery. Brad shoulders the bulk of the bags, full to the brim with clothes and food they’d hurriedly packed. They were both itching to get out now. Maybe Brad hadn’t thought this over enough – but how could he deny the chance to stop the Oni army? How could he pass up such a big adventure?  

Lloyd hesitated on the steps, just within the boundaries of the monastery. Brad wordlessly held out his hand for Lloyd to take, smiling softly.  

Lloyd looked down at him, framed by the sunlight shining through his golden hair like a halo. He took a deep, shuddery breath, and grabbed the hand.  

[xaphrin]

Anyway I just spent all morning plotting out my next long fic, and uh... wow that outline is something. Hope it doesn't suck? Have a taste?

(Actually trying to see how people feel about this)

-

When Trigon finally conquered Earth it felt like the world had become a strange, tilted reflection of itself. Warped like the mirror in a funhouse, but somehow still the same. On the surface things continued as normal, people went to their jobs, the public transit system continued, and the stock market miraculously stayed stable. The conquering felt less like an ending, and more like a blip in the timeline. Most people assumed that after a few months it would all clear itself up. 

But, underneath that facade of normalcy, there was a wound festering. 

Dissenters quietly disappeared overnight. World leaders vanished on their way to summits. Pacifists simply ceased to exist. Slowly, like a small leak in a boat, little bits of civilization disappeared, letting more and more horrors fill the space until the boat started to sink and there was nothing left but accept the inevitable truth:

There was no saving what Trigon had destroyed.  

And here stood Raven, at the edge of it all. She wasn’t supposed to exist. After her body had been used as a portal for Trigon, she had been left to die and decompose into the earth. Even her soul wouldn’t have found rest anywhere, since it was welcome nowhere. 

“You good?” 

Raven turned and looked at Dick as he stood next to her. “Not sure yet.” She gave a one shouldered shrug and stared out into the skyline. 

The city still looked inhabited, but there was a soft quiet that rumbled in and around the buildings. Look closer and you could see shattered windows and the rust-colored stains of long-dried blood. Everyone ignored it. If someone had died, they had it coming. Keep your head down. Don’t stir up trouble. Those were rules, and they were meant to be followed. 

Dick sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I got a message from my brother.” 

Raven lifted an eyebrow. “A Robin?”

He nodded. “The last one, actually. He was there the day Batman was…” Dick trailed off, unsure of what to call the death of the last man he considered a father. 

“Taken,” Raven supplied. The word didn’t feel like an end. It felt like a book with the last pages ripped out, so you never really knew the ending. “I thought he disappeared. Your brother, I mean.”

“He went back to the League of Assassins.” 

Raven lifted an eyebrow, surprised. They were the one group of people who had managed to resist all of Trigon’s control, walking a very fine line of neutrality. She huffed out a soft breath. “And what does he want?”

“To join the cause.”

[my-halo-is-a-little-broken]

Now, let me preface this by saying I only really have FB to keep in touch with family and friends, so I try to cultivate it to have my interests on my feed, and Arcane is currently one popping up a lot.

And, uh, some people have "interesting" takes 😬 like, there can be valid criticisms of the show and how it handled some things, but these feel reach-y or even completely miss the point.

1. I don't think the show is trying to say "magic (power) makes disabled people evil." What I do think it is trying to say is that when you get a taste/knowledge of what life could be like when you're more able/powerful, it can be intoxicating and misleading. Viktor genuinely thought he was making things better, and he thought he saw how he could get there, so he took it, in an "ends justify the means way." He tried convincing Jayce to work with him. He didn't truly want to align with Ambessa until he felt he had no other choice. Other examples we see of power infecting people are littered throughout the show. Cait, Jayce, Ambessa, Mel, Silco, Singed, Heimer. Power infects and can twist people.

2. Yes, it did feel hollow at some points. But I don't feel they were saying what the person thinks they were saying. Jayce even essentially says that the Zaunites have no reason to trust them, and he basically begs them to work with Piltover because he knows the destruction that awaits them. It wasn't just "defending the oppressors way of life." A literal apocalypse could happen. It's defending everyone's way of life. As for the "Savage Brown Hoardes" bit, the only people of color we really see of the Noxians are Ambessa, Kino, and Mel, 2 of which prefer talking and seeing fighting as a last resort. Everyone else is (seemingly) white. Maddie is white, Rictus appears to be white, and what we see of the Noxian soldiers, they seem to be white. Even if we go farther and look at the Noxian champions in LoL, a good chunk of them seem to be white. As for the faceless communism metaphor, while I can see it, this was a legitimate threat to Piltover, Zaun, and the world as a whole. Communism is a boogie man in our world, yes, but it wouldn't lead to the *literal apocalypse*. That's more capitalisms' style. And there's plenty of distrust and anger between Pilties and Zaunites, even if we don't get to see as we would have liked. A good chunk of the Zaunites don't join the battle until late because they *don't trust the Pilties* but realize that this isn't going well and will end badly, so they decide to help. We see that Sevika, despite being on the council, doesn't trust the Pilties, and they also don't trust her! Coming together to save the world doesn't mean that all the issues are erased. It simply means they were put aside for the moment. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

3. Yeah, they fumbled on keeping up Zaun vs. Piltover, but the Medarda war didn't come out of nowhere. In the 1st season, we have Ambessa trying to encourage war. She's a WARLORD. War within her was coming, one way or another. Mel always stood in opposition to her, even if she loved her and tried to reason with her. Ambessa was always going to be one of the main antagonists and major plot points. Look at her song. If you want something outside of season 1 that points to that there was always going to be war. "No war, no peace 'til I lead them all". She does what she does for her family's gain, yes, but also for herself. She didn't show up to Piltover to visit Mel, ever, until word started to spread. It reflected badly on Piltover, on the council, on Mel, which in turn reflected badly on the Medarda name and *her*. "I can use who I want, and I taste what I please". Ambessa isn't above doing whatever she sees fit to get what she wants/feels is right. She will always try to get what she wants, and what she wanted was war with Zaun. War within Zaun weakens Piltover, which is already partially under a Medarda's control. We've seen that Ambessa takes over places and conquers them. It's never confirmed, but it's not a stretch to make an assumption here that she wanted to bring Piltover and Hextech under Noxus' (hers) control, and what better way to do that than weaken it's defenses and strength? She made Piltover "stronger" but only by putting herself in control of Cait, her puppet, who she, despite not being from Piltover, made Piltovers leader.

4. I don't think this was Jayce saying that Viktor needed to stay disabled. I myself am disabled, granted not like Viktor is, but I didn't feel this was Jayce saying that. To me, this was Jayce telling Viktor that it's *okay* to not be perfect. That it's okay to be disabled. Not that it's a good thing to be, but that it's not a horrifically bad thing either. Jayce *loves* Viktor (platonically or romantically, your choice, but they're soulmates no matter how you slice it). We see Viktor go from a mostly confident and sassy young man to a shell of himself who believes he's unworthy of standing next to Jayce even though they're partners. Viktor was never unworthy, no matter how his disease progressed, and that's what Jayce is trying to emphasize. Jayce is telling Viktor, "You are loved, I love you, and nothing will ever change that no matter what you think." It echos Jinx and Vi in a way. Jinx thinks she's unlovable, bad luck, but Vi doesn't. She'll never give up on trying to help and love her sister, and the same way Jayce will never give up trying to save and love his partner. Jayce isn't telling Viktor he should have stayed disabled. He's telling him that his disability doesn't make him less of a person and who he is, that perfection does nothing but hurt when it requires impossible standards.

[loderlied]

gort and political views (and uh. gender?) hcs ramble…

(cw for discussions of ableism and transphobia)

while obviously a technoautocrat fascist and just very far-right in general with the majority of his followers being somewhere in that field as well as a result, using many tactics of those ideologies like instilling fear and terror and chaos in the population he comes in to “fix” (though i believe he sees this as more of a. “only making what is already there more obvious” thing. awful) and many more, he is a genius master manipulator who would ultimately utilise everything to sway as many people as he can since that’s what matters in the end. maybe even slyly changing talking points per speech & crowd that is attending…

though i don’t think he shares some views that are commonly associated with that. while he will certainly utilise these talking points for manipulating and/or hurting people, for someone who judges “people” (they’re not people to him) solely based on the factor of usefulness, i can’t see him being genuinely racist, misogynistic, transphobic since those things usually don’t affect your usefulness. a different story with disabled people since they most likely will not be able to perform labour as well as others, so to me, he is very horrifically ableist.

though. he is also very much the machine conquering the world and shaping it after his image which is a process that takes everyone’s “malfunction/urges”/free will away so they are either his tools or. well. dead/nothing if they don’t comply, so i could also see him being like. yeah the flesh form is weak and will ultimately be conquered, but he can recognise that someone was assigned female/male/intersex at birth. changing that based on what to him is malfunction/a feeling? that’s even more illogical. but again usually doesn’t impact usefulness so he just puts a pin in it. “conquer later” lmao

also can everyone be chill for a seccy now. this is why i see him as agender. he obviously doesn’t call himself that but as in uh. what his view towards the whole thing actually is. fully recognises that he was assigned male at birth and doesn’t care to change any characteristics of that (probably preferring things like being generally bigger, easier muscle/strength building for his work as a blacksmith/mechanic or just. fights or intimidating people in general, and no periods though. again it’s all about usefulness to him) but his body is ultimately a flesh suit puppeted and utilised by his core (the machine) and also he finds the entire concept of gender entirely illogical.

[dream-moonlight]

Maybe next time, maybe in the next life, maybe never.

Warnings: Angst, James being clueless, James Potter x Lily Evans, James Potter x Reader, unrequited love

Was i a fool for falling in love with James Potter of all people? Maybe. Maybe i was. But how could i stop myself when he's so kind and funny to me? How can i resist him when he keeps helping me with my schoolwork despite the many times i told him there was no need? I couldn't. That's the answer. From the moment I've met him, he's been nothing but welcoming, even if i was skeptical of him at first. But it didn't take me long to warm up and see him as the amazing young gentleman he was. That was for me, but not for Lily who hadn't liked him at all because of his loud and way too cheerful personality. I kinda understood her. James could exaggerate at times, but he was trying his best to make everyone around him happy. I appreciated it. I knew he had a crush on Lily. I mean, it was obvious from the way he acted around her. It didn't bother me until i realised i felt something more for him, something way stronger than friendship, so strong that it made my heart beat faster than when we had a test on transfiguration. Lily didn't seem interested in James, rather disturbed instead. So i thought to myself.. why don't i try? I don't need to get straight to the point, I could just try to get closer to him and see where this goes. Maybe it can end in us together? Or maybe i was dreaming too hard.

"Hey, James! Mind coming with me to the library today? You know, for the erbology we have tomorrow. We could just.. review some things. Study some more."

"Ah.. sorry, i can't. I was planning to go ask Lily on a date.. Maybe next time? You can ask Remus to help you! I'm sure he'll be glad to have some company while studying. Wish me luck!"

And with that, he'd run off, not even giving me a chance to say 'bye' or wish him luck in this quest of his. I sighed before turning and walking off in search of Remus. Let's hope he didn't have someone to conquer as well. I really needed help for this test. But hey.. maybe next time we'll be able to study together. Just me and James.

Maybe.

"Good morning, James. Are you feeling alright? I haven't seen you at breakfast and me and the others got a bit worried. Is something wrong?"

I asked after finally finding James outside the castle when he did not show up for breakfast that morning.

"Oh, good morning. Sorry i wasn't there. I had to get some of these flowers for Lily. What do you think? She'll like them right?"

My body stiffened a bit, but I still smiled.

"I'm sure she'll love them, James. They're beautiful."

He chuckled and nodded, looking down at the flowers he had taken with a slight hint of blush on those squishy cheeks of his.

"Just like her.."

He mumbled dreamily as my heart sinked further into darkness.

"By the way, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go to Hogsmade with me this weekend to-"

He didn't even give me time to finish that his attention was drawn to something behind me. Or rather someone.

"Sorry! Gotta go! I see Lily over there! Uh- maybe we'll go another time, okay? Next week?"

He said with an excited smile, again, not leaving me the time to answer before he stormed off to Lily.

Alright.. maybe.. maybe next week.

It's been.. how long as it been since this stupid crush started? Way too long, I'll tell you that. I tried everything. I swear.. everything i could possibly think of. But nothing. James was so damn stubborn and set on conquering Lily that he basically ignored all my attempts at hanging out with him. It was like he was obsessed with her. At this point i was getting tired. I didn’t want to hide anymore, i wanted him to know. Even if he rejected me, it didn't matter. At least he would finally get it through his thick skull that there wasn't only Lily in this world.

"James, i need to talk to you."

"Not now, i really need to-"

This time i was the one who didn't let him finish.

"No. Please, it's serious. I need to talk to you now."

He looked at me kinda worried, but he did stop and listened.

"James, i don't really know how to approach this any differently. I've tried many times to make you understand, but you just don't get it."

His worry increased, but now his eyes were filled with curiosity.

"I like you. And not in a friends way.. I really, really like you. I want you to be my boyfriend, James. I want to go on dates with you, give you the love and respect you deserve. I admire you for who you are and i want to show that i appreciate all you've done for me."

His eyes widened, his body stiffening and his heart stopping for a second before his expression turned to.. honestly, it hurts to even say it.

"I'm sorry, but i do not like you that way. I appreciate what you said, but.. listen, i haven't really told this to anyone because i didn't want to ruin my chance, but I've been going out with Lily for a while now, and.. it's really going well, so.."

He stopped, not really knowing if to continue, afraid to hurt me even more than when i was. But i just laughed. I laughed.

"It's fine! I'm not mad at you, James. I'm actually happy."

Liar.

"I'm glad you finally achieved what you desired. And hey. Maybe in the next life we'll be together! Who knows."

I said in a joking tone, letting out a small awkward laugh. How I wished it could be true.

"Yeah.. maybe in the next life."

He said with a small laugh.

"I need to go now. Lily is waiting for me at the black lake. Oh, and.. I'm sorry."

He didn't look sorry at all.

"It's fine. Just go get your girl."

I watched him leave with a smile before it disappeared as quick as it came, replaced by a sad frown.

Maybe in the next life.

Maybe never.

[pico-digital-studios]

Into, Across and Beyond! Scripting: Can't Live it Down

While the Blur Gang were busy sorting things out in Dimensions SRB-1998 and EDU-1996, Sonic Prime stuck behind at Dimension OMT-2021, trying to make sense of things at Carnival Night.

Sonic: A version of me that's dead... How tough does the multiverse have to be on some people?

Close by, he heard another portal open up with some of EggOmega's modified robots coming out of it.

Sonic: Aw, crud... Some of that green doctor's Badniks, huh? Well, no sense letting them do what they want. (to the Badniks) Hey, tin-cans! You'd better book it before I turn you into scrap!

They ignored him and went for the attack, prompting Sonic to take them out. As he did, though, he noticed one of them was horribly malfunctioning before collapsing.

Sonic: Yeesh, that doesn't look good.

He went to investigate, opening its compartment and seeing a horrifying sight. The critter inside had been ground to mush by the inner workings of the Badnik.

Sonic: Oh, god... How sadistic IS this guy?!

As he looked in horror, EggOmega's version of the Egg Breaker leapt in to attack on autopilot, prompting Sonic to leap out of the way.

Sonic: Well, if it isn't this mech again. Bring it on!

He began speeding around to fight the giant mech off, soon tripping up on it and faceplanting to the ground.

Sonic: Uh oh...

Fortunately, before it could finish him off, Tails Prime leapt in, blasting at the mech which had trouble reacting.

Sonic: Tails?!

The mech turned around to his position.

Tails: Give it up!

It tried to crush him, but he easily avoided the attack, blasting the Egg Breaker to smithereens before landing again.

Tails: Phew! That should do it!

Sonic: Tails!

Tails noticed Sonic.

Tails: Thank goodness you're okay, Sonic!

Sonic: How did you even get here?

Tails: Well, after hearing that you went missing yesterday, I had a feeling it had something to do with the multiverse. I had some scans in my workshop, and I followed the trail left behind to get here.

Sonic: Honestly, glad I'm not the only one on the move here. That mech you just trashed belongs to this absolutely insane counterpart of Eggman named "EggOmega". Kept boasting about how he killed his own Sonic and about how he plans to conquer the multiverse, including our own world.

Tails: Okay, this is worrying... Do you know any help we can get to stop him?

Sonic: I met a team of multidimensional heroes earlier, and they're already trying to deal with stuff. I'll be headed out into the field myself a little later, specifically to the dimension based on that movie of the two of us.

Tails: Our movies are actually a whole other dimension?! Wow!

Sonic: Heh, too right!

Tails: So, where are said heroes stationed at?

Sonic: I'll gladly show you, just so long as it's kept a secret from prying eyes.

Tails: Got it!

The two prepared to head off, though some footsteps nearby stopped them.

??????: Ah, there you are, Sonic!

Sonic turned around, seeing Eggman Prime had caught up to him.

Sonic: Oh, great... It had to be you. Literally anyone else would've been better to see. Heck, even Shadow would've been more of a relief to be around!

Eggman: We've no time for conflicts now, Sonic. I got word on the way here that there's an alternate counterpart of me that-.

Sonic: Save the explanation, Robotnik. I'm already well aware of what's going on. I saw EggOmega's extent of power for myself.

Eggman: Okay. You're finally referring to me by my proper name, huh? No quips this time?

Sonic: After what you pulled a few months ago that almost doomed us all, can you blame me for that?!

Eggman: What are you talking about?!

Sonic: The whole thing with Sonic.exe! Are you seriously this dense?!

Eggman: What?! Don't act like you tried to pretend it never happened, you moronic hedgehog!

Sonic: Only for the sake of those mandates, Ivo! But since we're NOT where we can be seen talking, I'm gonna make it clear that I'm not just letting you off the hook just like that after you thought tampering with dangerous forces again was a good idea.

Eggman: Look, Sonic! I never predicted it would get THAT bad. And enough with the first-name basis! I wouldn't call you "Maurice" out of nowhere, would I?

Sonic: Yeah, sure. Like you "never predicted" Chaos would turn on you and blast your second Egg Carrier out of the sky, or that trying to meddle with the god underneath our planet that you awoke would get you flung into the atmosphere. The Time Eater's literally the only example I can think of where that didn't backfire in your face until me and my younger self stopped you.

Eggman: Urgh... don't remind me.

Tails: Look, are you here to help us stop EggOmega or not? Actually be honest with us this time!

Eggman: I am, Tails. Do you really think I can take over the world if some alternate of me is planning to pull that stunt first?

Sonic: Knowing you, you're gonna learn nothing from this and that it'll all be business as usual as soon as we return home. The second you came back to life after dying at that blood-crying faker's hand, you were immediately after the Reverie.

Eggman: Can you stop assuming stuff for one minute, Sonic?

Sonic: It's literally the status quo, doctor! You're clearly going to come up with yet another hair-brained scheme to defeat me and take over the world shortly after we're done here! And knowing you, you'll double-cross us at the first opportunity you get after EggOmega's down!

Eggman: SILENCE! Do you really think I can afford to double-cross you two right now, if at ALL this time?! This is clearly bigger than both of us, and this time, we NEED to put things aside to stop Dr. EggDoofus! Besides, I don't like teaming up with either of you unless it's necessary for both our sakes.

Sonic: Like you said at the Lost Hex, only to plan to conquer what was left of our world after most of its energy was stolen. Oh, and the fact Knuckles, Amy and so many others almost met their ends! Do you not care about lives lost to reach your goals?! What kind of monster are you?!

Tails: Sonic... I think we should get moving.

Sonic: ...Yeah, agreed.

Eggman: Yeesh, okay. I'm sorry about almost dooming the entire planet back then. I made bad decisions, caused huge levels of damage, and now we're here. Okay?

Sonic: ... No. It's not okay, doctor. And I won't let you know where we're headed, either. You don't deserve to know.

He headed off, with Tails following him.

Eggman: Guess the demon Sonic incident really did a lot to his psyche, huh?

Further into the carnival, the two heroes came to a stop for a breather.

Tails: Okay. We're where Eggman can't overhear us. If you wanna say what's on your mind, Sonic, please do so.

Sonic: I guess I can't hold it off much more, huh? It's just...

Sonic: What happened to us days before the run into the dream world really rattled me up, honestly. I know I'm trying to push through for the sake of you guys and help you all with your independence, but... all the mandates holding us back are just not letting me vent out my struggles, you know. First Eggman hiring all these multiversal baddies including the evil Super Sonic, and then the whole thing with EXE. I really pushed myself to the brink in just three adventures, and...

Tails: It's taking a toll on who you are, huh...?

Sonic: Yeah... Like, how dangerous does Ivo keep having to get just to stamp me out of the picture? First the war, then those two multiversal incidents I mentioned, THE END, the murder mystery case, invading dreams... there's been no scheme as of late he's been light-hearted about.

Tails: And it all led up to here, where we're trying to save the multiverse for a third time.

Sonic: Mhm. ... Can I be real with you for a sec, Tails?

Tails: Go ahead.

Sonic: I mean, I know Sonic Frontiers had been doing pretty well, but... I dunno, it's just... I guess it feels like there's just a lot of pressure on me now.

Tails: I mean, a lot of people loved it, which is a good thing.

Sonic: Sure, but it's been a while since a wide portion of my fanbase have really liked one of my adventures, especially after... you know.

Tails: Yeah... You're feeling like there's all these expectations you've gotta live up to, huh?

Sonic: Yeah... I know I don't fear much, but... I'm just scared I'll never live up to those expectations. The inconsistencies mean that people are always expecting something from me, and if things keep bummering out, then...

Tails: I know, Sonic. Harsh truth is, you really can't please everybody, no matter what.

Sonic: I get that, I really do. It's just there's those expecting me to do as good as I did in Frontiers, if not better, and that anything in-between is just gonna be met with disappointment.

Tails: Listen. You'd never disappoint me at all, Sonic. You're the reason I even began becoming a hero of my own in the first place! Even if those around Earth-0 don't think so, you're always a beacon of shining hope. I mean, we all are in our own ways.

Sonic: Heh, thanks, little buddy. I'm glad I can be open about this with you.

Tails: Heh, anytime! Even now, we're still friends to the end!

They both shared a little hug between each other.

Tails: Say, if this is part of all the multiversal madness you've seen, does that mean my alternate self, er, Nine is here?

Sonic: Yeah. Well, I'm not sure for certain if it's the exact same Nine or not, but I do hope to introduce him to you if he's okay with it.

Tails: And I'm guessing you still don't want to let Eggman know where they're camping at, huh?

Sonic: Yeah. He'd probably try to attack it later if he got the opportunity to. We should get moving, though. No sense wasting any more time with a lot hanging in the balance!

Tails: Right!

They both raced off.

[nyoomfruits]

nyoomfruits masterlist

miscellaneous

my drabbles

fic recs

fave art

—

fics

la douceur de l’été (lando/oscar, 34k, completed)

“Alright, okay,” Lando says, slumping down a little theatrically. “So you’re all just going to leave me down here to rot.”

“No one is leaving you to rot,” George says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, so, what, are you going to carry me up the mountain then?” Lando counters.

“I’m not going to-“ George starts, but gets cut off by Oscar.

“I can stay.”

--

you love me (but you don’t know it yet) (lando/oscar, 34,5k, completed)

When they get to the McLaren motorhome, his PR rep is already waiting for him in the doorway, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. “We would’ve preferred if you’d told us about your boyfriend beforehand, Lando,” she says, as they make their way inside, glancing at Oscar following behind them. “We could’ve had some contingency plans in place.”

“Well, I would have told you,” Lando says, “I just didn’t know he existed until like 20 minutes ago.”

--

ghost of you (charles/max, 3,5k, completed)

“All right, are you now finally ready to explain why four time world driver champion Charles Leclerc is currently in my living room?” Max says, as Charles towels off his hair.

Charles pauses, lets the towel fall into his lap, stares at Max with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, did you say four time?”

--

where i am going is right where i am (lando/oscar, 18k, completed)

Oscar, Lando likes to tell people, is a slow burn. Unremarkable at first. Almost a little boring. But then he wiggles your way into your life with his croissants and his soft little smiles and then one day you wake up and realize you would conquer worlds, slay dragons, eat spinach puffs, anything just to get him to look at you.

Max, on multiple occasions, has told him that’s a him problem and that not everyone experiences this around Oscar. Lando thinks Max is an idiot.

--

sink your teeth into me (lando/oscar, 5k, complete)

“Yeah,” Oscar says, shrugs. “Would be better if it wasn’t so fucking orange, though.”

“Oscar,” Lando tuts, heading for the door, back to his own driver’s room. “Where’s your team spirit.”

“Dead,” Oscar says, small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, gesturing at the orange coffin as if to say ‘get it?’.

--

love you with the lights on (lando/oscar, 28k, complete)

“I texted him,” Lando says. “He can’t have forgotten about me, I texted him, and he never texted back.” 

 Max shrugs. “Maybe he didn’t know what to say. After all, how do you tell your fuck buddy that you’ve accidentally gone out and acquired a baby?”

--

already home (lando/oscar, 32k, completed)

Lando takes a deep steadying breath. “I think I might be in love with Oscar.” He says, and hates how immediately when he says the words, he knows it’s true.

“Right,” Max says, nodding. “And?”

“What do you mean, ‘and?’” Lando says, a little outraged. “I can’t be in love with him! We’re married! This is like, a disaster waiting to happen!”

--

this feels like falling in love (charles/max, 3k, completed)

Five kisses throughout their lives, and the one that started it all.

--

thinking ‘bout your touch (oscar/lando, 2k, completed)

Lando’s brain gets so occupied by the thought it shouldn’t come as a surprise really, when a few rounds later Oscar says, “Dare.” Lando blurts out, “Let me suck your dick.”

There’s a long, awkward silence in which they just stare at each other, Oscar’s expression completely unreadable. “Uh,” he eventually says. “I think a dare is something I’m supposed to do.”

--

i’ve tasted blood (and i want more) (oscar/lando, 5,5k, completed)

Lando grabs a pillow and hits him with it, while Oscar laughs loudly. His fangs are on full display, white and sharp and pretty. “You know what I mean, you dickhead!”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Oscar says, eyes twinkling. “You want me to use you as a human Capri Sun. You know, like a weirdo.”

“God, you’re making this so much worse than it is,” Lando says, burying his face in his hands. It’s. Well, it’s embarrassing, but Oscar also hasn’t outright said no, so. You know what they say. In for a penny, in for a pound. “So, will you?” And then, just in case, he adds. “Suck my blood?”

--

purring in my lap (’cause he loves me) (oscar/lando, 5k, completed)

The cat thing ends up getting sort of explained in Bahrain, when Lando walks into his driver room and finds a small orange cat sitting on his couch.

Oscar’s cat, presumably.

And he kind of looks like Oscar, too. Slender, lean, and with a slightly grumpy, unimpressed expression on his face. It makes Lando laugh a little. Like owner, like pet, clearly. “Should I just call you Oscat, then,” Lando jokes, giving the cat a little head scratch.

The cat, Oscat, stops rubbing at Lando’s hand and just stares at him instead. Lando would almost say he was looking at him disapprovingly, but it is a cat, so he’s probably just imagining things.

—

glitch (charles/max, 26k+, completed)

Max hums. “Well, at least that means I won’t bump into Charles Leclerc again.”

“Bummer, really,” Daniel says, moving back to his own seat and drinking the little bit of coffee that was still in the cup. “Could’ve been the start of a great love story.”

Lando snorts. “Kids, it all started when I told your father, who had won two World Driver Championships at that point, that he sucked at driving.”

Max sticks his middle finger up at them, and pulls his noise canceling headphones back over his ears. Only two hours left to go, he thinks, wistfully, and goes back to work.

—

heart on your sleeve (charles/max, 5k, completed)

The thing about having a racing helmet that constantly displays your emotions for the whole world to see, is that you kind of get used to it after a while. These days Charles almost forgets it’s even a thing. Almost. But then he goes and falls in love.

—

you’ll be alright (charles/max, 19k+, completed)

Charles is not an idiot. He knows there’s a part of him that has been at least a little bit in love with Max for as long as they’ve known each other. But he’s always been able to shove it down. Burying it under rivalries and competitiveness until it was getting hard to differentiate between love and hate. And that had worked, for a really long time.

And then Max had to go and barge into his life and be really fucking cute with his baby.

—

silly me (to fall in love with you) (charles/max,18k+, completed)

“We’re not asking you to ‘woo’ him,” Christian says, looking pained at having to say the word ‘woo’, “We just need others to think you’ve wooed him.”

“I’m not following,” Max says, frowning.

“A PR relationship,” Poppy explains. “You pretend to date, making the public think you’re all happy and in love. Then you reap the benefits of being in a relationship without actually having to put in the effort or work.”

“Absolutely not,” Max says, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s depressing, I’m not doing that.”

—

you can hear it in the silence (charles/max, 7k+, completed)

“Thanks,” Max eventually says. “For letting me crash.”

“Yeah, yeah, we should definitely do this again sometimes,” Charles says sarcastically, seeming to finally have woken up enough to actually get out of bed.

“No fucking way, once is enough,” Max says, because it sounds a lot better than ‘this is the best I’ve slept in ages and I think it might’ve been because you were next to me’. “Besides. You snore.”

Charles gasps and looks at Max. “I do not.”

He doesn’t. But the complete outrage on Charles’s face is too good to tell him the truth. “Oh, yeah, like a goddamn sawmill. Thought you were going to wake up the whole house.” Max says, and then laughs when Charles lets out an indignant squawk and launches a pillow at his face.

Or, the five times Max and Charles accidentally fall asleep together, and the one time they do it on purpose.

[lyss-sketchbox]

Ok coming off anon because I'm trying to conquer the constant social anxiety lmao (same person who sent you Longass Thoughts on Natlan AQ) - SO YEAH personally I like Ei's character but foaming a bit at the mouth because I feel like my favorite parts of her character (namely she was NOT ready to be the archon when makoto kicked the bucket, she's got that good ol' warrior-weapon mindset knocking around in there- having her actually confront the ugly truth of the consequences of her actions was such a missed opportunity. it would've been SO good to see her actually get confronted personally without any sugarcoating. i think her learning to be less of a shitty archon would've been so much better then)

also like. im sure there were a lot of ways to improve Inazuma's story but personally i thought it would've been cooler if kokomi was a bit more. morally grey lmao. like willing to do not-so-nice things to fight god because that's what they're doing. mortals attempting to defy the god that holds dominion over their land (bc the electro archon isn't really Watatsumi's god specifically!! bc uh lmao ei killed him lol)

but yea for real in natlan every "serious problem" was severely undercut by "actually it's all good now" like "kachina is totally fine after being chased by the abyss in the afterlife, she was protected by the wayob so it's all good and she's also mentally ok" and it's like what. what are you talking about.

AND THE ARchON thing i feel like im the only one who has a gripe. tbf the story is not done yet BUT MY QUESTION IS CELESTIA ALLOWED A HUMAN (MULTIPLE EVEN) TO ASCend to the divine throne???? Like what??? IT feels like it runs counter to everything-

and like uh feels like we got really really far away from like. when you talk about the archon war in liyue it was a literal bloodbath. sacrifices upon sacrifices were made, the modern day liyue was built upon the corpses of friend and foe alike because there was no other choice. you couldn't abstain, you would die.

but in natlan???? no gods??? what???? im just losing it more than a bit over here that natlan is trying simultaneously to be a grim land of constant war but also sunshine friendship and rainbows.

at this point im prepared to be disappointed and just crossing my fingers the good writing comes back for snezhnaya's AQ bc if they fuck up snezhnaya i will literally never forgive them

Its all good man, youre so welcome to debate and talk off anon, we may disagree but never hate.

Im putting all my ramblings under cut since its gonna be as equally long and spoilery hdjsnsn

About Ei

I completely forgot about how Ei was originally a kagemusha, a weapon for her sister, her sister did all the archon work while Ei simply stood by her side. Its makes perfect sense that after the death of her sister, she would make very bad not thought out decisions and because she is an archon now, those bad decisions has really really bad aftermaths.

I personally do not have any gripes about her being basically clueless about the outside world. Grief manifests in different ways and locking yourself away and justifying it as a twisted way to gain enlightment of eternity the way your sister did, it can make sense. It is a consequence!! She is clueless of how to be an archon and what is going on in her nation, her SQ could have been used to show her trying to understand and emphatize with her people to be a better archon. NOT A REASON TO MAKE HER AN uwu sad defenseless waifu cant cook and doesnt know anything. Brother she fucking killed people and almost destroyed her nation.

About Kokomi

I like the idea of morally grey kokomi actually. It makes alot of sense. Kokomi and the watatsumi people might have some vishap descendance but they are still humans, even less so with visions. Theyre also lacking the supplies and expertise needed to continue a war with an entire nation and its archon. It would make sense that she would accept the fatuis help since they share the sentiment of 'getting to inazuma and its archon'.

But it was shown she wasnt even aware who the anonymous donor is, hell she wasnt aware people where using delusions until people starts dying. And for a girl who wrote an entire guide book with 100 different alternate plans, HOW DO YOU NOT SEE THIS COMING...............

About Natlan's system

Yeah they really brushed off the dying part and potentially being stuck in genshin limbo if you dont get out in time too casually. The tiny child you retrieved from limbo also is... very chill and not mentally scarred or anything, she wasnt putting up a brave face, she was simply unaffected?????? One on kachina's voiceovers is gonna talk about her death but im not friendship 4 with her yet. I hope it explains SOMETHING.

Yeah the first time i heard that the archon was human and has been replaced multiple times had me gawking too, i can excuse that Celestia has been strangely inactive FOR NOW.

I wanted to bring up how the hydro archon throne being broken and Neuvi regaining his sovernity didnt even call Celestia to action but GUESS WHAT??? I DONT KNOW IF NATLAN HAPPENED BEFORE OR AFTER FONTAINE BECAUSE THEY DECIDE TO LOWER THE REQUIREMENTS TO DO NATLAN AQ!!!!!!! But well if it happened after (since Neuvis end dialogue told us to go to Natlan next), well... Celestia isnt called either so theyve just been inactive for 500 years of Natlans weird system ig.

About the """Nation of War"""

Yeah man. Sacrifices and war was dealt better in liyue. Same as Natlan, it is a nation built of war. There was war in the past, sacrifices were made to built the liyue we know now. But the sacrifices in liyue was not brushed off or belittled, those sacrifices had meaning and the people of liyue hold very high regards for the fallen. In Natlan? Its treated like some sort of sick hunger games event, they made war into entertainment.

Oh but they need the tournaments to keep the natlan fire alive. THEN RUN A SEPERATE FUCKING TOURNEY?????? MAKE EVERYONE WHO HAS AN ANCIENT NAME HAVE PROPER TRAINING AND GO TO WAR IN ARMIES PROPER???? THIS SHIT DOESNT NEED TO BE ENTERTAINMENT AND YET YOU DID. Maybe the flames are small BECAUSE YOU PICK ONLY 5 PEOPLE EVERYTIME WHEN THERES LITERALLY NO REASON VETERANS LIKE KINICH AND MUALANI TO SIT IT OUT JUST BECAUSE THEY LOST.

Oh but the ode of resurrection only works on limited people THEN SEND OUT THE BEST PEOPLE THEN???????? MUALANI, A 3 TIMES VETERAN, LOST TO KACHINA. CLEARLY THE TOURNEYS ARENT RELIABLE TO PICK WHO TO SEND.

While i can understand that while Liyue is past war and Natlan is still in war, this is... not how people in war act. The entertainment the happiness the hospitality. Its not efforts to keep morale high its literally just... happy people, sometimes they get attacked by abyss monsters yeah cool but otherwise theyre completely happy just living like that. Thats why the Nation of War thing isnt working at all, these people are not how people STILL IN WAR act. Theres no anxiety no uncertainty no worry at all, not even a smidget. These people live like happy prospering people.

You know what happened to people tryna be happy prospering people while still in war in liyue? Havria.

I hope they bring back the high AR requirement for snezhnaya so snezhnaya can be chronologically correct. I hope they take snezhnaya seriously. I hope Natlan atleast wont pull an inazuma and tripped at the very end

NONE OF THAT POWER OF FRIENDSHIP BS EITHER I didnt believe it when mualani fucking knocked it over our heads over and over and over again and its not gonna work now.

[valeriele3]

I just love crossovers between games I like so..

You just got sucked into a portal that leads to another world but would you look at that? You dragged your dearest friend with you!

Genshin Sagau x Reader ft. Leona Kingscholar

Warnings: Bad grammar, ooc, cringe

Under a familiar big tree lies two idiots

"Look at what you just did you stupid Herbivore”

“Wha— I don’t mind you calling me a herbivore but, what do you mean ‘stupid’?!”

“FYI I am not stupid mr. Kingscholar”

“Mhm..Sure..Yawn”

“I’m serious! My grades are above average okay? Aboveeeee average!”

“Whatever..Wake me up when you find the way back..”

☆彡

“Hey..Hey Leona..Leona~”

“…”

“Leona~ Wake up..! Psst..Psst! Leona!”

“…”

“Leona..! I know you can hear me and are awake..!”

“Get up right now. Or I’ll keep bothering you nonstop..!”

After a while Leona begrudgingly rose up from his slumber after having had enough of your constant annoyance(That’s a lie. He loves your voice) and the not so quiet whispers in the room

“Did you finally find the way back..?” He yawns like the lazy cat man he is

“Uh..No? Just..Take a look around the room right now..”

“Hm?”

“…”

“Good night..”

“WAIT! DON’T GO BACK TO SLEEP! LEONA!!” You cry out(More like screech)

“A-Ahem..Your Grace..I don’t mean to be rude but if I may ask..Who is that lovely man beside you?”

“My husband— I mean friend..Best friend..My bestest friend bestie Leona”

“Hah? What do you mean “best friend”? I think I prefer the first one Herbivore” Leona smirks YOU BETTER WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE SIR OR I WILL STRANGLE YOU

“H-Husband?!!”

The crowd starts to whisper amongst themselves

One sweet archon is happy for you while a certain group and 3 archons are planning the death of our beloved lion..Honestly, everyone’s planning his death at the moment

“HEKWNAJ NO! No no no..! Leona isn’t my husband! We’re just schoolmates!” Said by a frantic you that’s trying to calm everyone in the throne room

“Wow..How cruel of you Herbivore..After everything we’ve been through together”

“After all the nights spent together, the dates, and the sneaking out..Whatever happened to “us vs the entire world”?” Leona feint hurt

“GASP so that guy really is Their Grace’s husband?!” - uninvited guests

“NO! Do you all not believe me? Your dearest creator? Do you all think I’m a liar?”

“Of course not Your Grace!”

“Please forgive us!”

“We didn’t mean to offend you almighty creator!”

‘Ehheheheheheheh yesss crawl beneath me my underlings HAHAHAHAHAH then..I shall conquer this world..! And the other worlds to come!’

‘That Herbivore is thinking about something sinister again..Whatever it is doesn’t concern me though so whatever..’

Leona goes back to sleep <3

☆彡

That very same day lots of mortals and immortals tried to kill Leona but he just turned most of them to sand (He didn’t turn any of the playable characters into sand because of you telling him not to)

The people who managed to survive their encounter with Leona a.k.a playable characters (except the children) received a stern scolding that lasted for hours from you. Oh and they’re banned from your palace for a while as punishment

Sorry this is so bad..I had a plan and all but I got lazy and everything so take this trash..I’m so tired for whatever reason despite not doing anything the whole day

[i3utterflyeffect]

So, had a thought about stick world—does Dark know about the Cycle when it and Chosen first escape? I, uh, don't think that would go over well when it becomes relevant. Specifically because I know Chosen would attempt to protect it at any cost.

i don't think that they worry too much about it at first; for almost all creatures i imagine the cycle is just some fact of life, and if you don't think about it too hard, it'd really just be iterators bothered by it--

but of course... then it Isn't

and with every cycle dark's rot gets worse, and they say it's fine, they can conquer anything including this stupid rot. but they keep getting worse. and they think it'll be better once they discover they can use spitter spider venom to help anesthetize the rot and the sharper weapons; they make ways to fix it, chosen learns from the scavengers when dark isn't terrorizing the local populous

but it's not just growing, it's contaminating Dark on the inside, too. it comes and goes, but when it's at its worst, Chosen can't stop thinking about it.

What happens when they completely turn to rot? will they keep living? will they die forever? will the rot be all that's left? or will dark be inside, suffering?

they bring up the thought of ascension but dark doesn't want to. and even though chosen thinks about it dark prefers to ignore it, they don't want to think about that inevitable end result

of course, the hunger of the rot doesn't let them sleep soundly sometimes.

especially when they think about turning on chosen. another slugcat could provide easy food.