#Cloud alignment system

[permasleepymoth]

TransID flags! :D

I’ve always the Cloud Age Alignment System was really cool, but I haven’t been able to find any flags for it! So…I made them! :D

Lil chart thingie I found for the different names and symbols :3

Flags

I take flag and coining reqests!! Check my pinned post if you are interested!

[nasa]

All-Star Moments in Space Communications and Navigation

How do we get information from missions exploring the cosmos back to humans on Earth? Our space communications and navigation networks – the Near Space Network and the Deep Space Network – bring back science and exploration data daily.

Here are a few of our favorite moments from 2024.

1. Hip-Hop to Deep Space

The stars above and on Earth aligned as lyrics from the song “The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly)” by hip-hop artist Missy Elliott were beamed to Venus via NASA’s Deep Space Network. Using a 34-meter (112-foot) wide Deep Space Station 13 (DSS-13) radio dish antenna, located at the network’s Goldstone Deep Space Communications Complex in California, the song was sent at 10:05 a.m. PDT on Friday, July 12 and traveled about 158 million miles from Earth to Venus — the artist’s favorite planet. Coincidentally, the DSS-13 that sent the transmission is also nicknamed Venus!

NASA's PACE mission transmitting data to Earth through NASA's Near Space Network.

2. Lemme Upgrade You

Our Near Space Network, which supports communications for space-based missions within 1.2 million miles of Earth, is constantly enhancing its capabilities to support science and exploration missions. Last year, the network implemented DTN (Delay/Disruption Tolerant Networking), which provides robust protection of data traveling from extreme distances. NASA’s PACE (Plankton, Aerosol, Cloud, ocean Ecosystem) mission is the first operational science mission to leverage the network’s DTN capabilities. Since PACE’s launch, over 17 million bundles of data have been transmitted by the satellite and received by the network’s ground station.

A collage of the pet photos sent over laser links from Earth to LCRD and finally to ILLUMA-T (Integrated LCRD Low Earth Orbit User Modem and Amplifier Terminal) on the International Space Station. Animals submitted include cats, dogs, birds, chickens, cows, snakes, and pigs.

3. Who Doesn’t Love Pets?

Last year, we transmitted hundreds of pet photos and videos to the International Space Station, showcasing how laser communications can send more data at once than traditional methods. Imagery of cherished pets gathered from NASA astronauts and agency employees flowed from the mission ops center to the optical ground stations and then to the in-space Laser Communications Relay Demonstration (LCRD), which relayed the signal to a payload on the space station. This activity demonstrated how laser communications and high-rate DTN can benefit human spaceflight missions.

4K video footage was routed from the PC-12 aircraft to an optical ground station in Cleveland. From there, it was sent over an Earth-based network to NASA’s White Sands Test Facility in Las Cruces, New Mexico. The signals were then sent to NASA’s Laser Communications Relay Demonstration spacecraft and relayed to the ILLUMA-T payload on the International Space Station.

4. Now Streaming

A team of engineers transmitted 4K video footage from an aircraft to the International Space Station and back using laser communication signals. Historically, we have relied on radio waves to send information to and from space. Laser communications use infrared light to transmit 10 to 100 times more data than radio frequency systems. The flight tests were part of an agency initiative to stream high-bandwidth video and other data from deep space, enabling future human missions beyond low-Earth orbit.

The Near Space Network provides missions within 1.2 million miles of Earth with communications and navigation services.

5. New Year, New Relationships

At the very end of 2024, the Near Space Network announced multiple contract awards to enhance the network’s services portfolio. The network, which uses a blend of government and commercial assets to get data to and from spacecraft, will be able to support more missions observing our Earth and exploring the cosmos. These commercial assets, alongside the existing network, will also play a critical role in our Artemis campaign, which calls for long-term exploration of the Moon.

On Monday, Oct. 14, 2024, at 12:06 p.m. EDT, a SpaceX Falcon Heavy rocket carrying NASA’s Europa Clipper spacecraft lifts off from Launch Complex 39A at NASA’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida.

6. 3, 2, 1, Blast Off!

Together, the Near Space Network and the Deep Space Network supported the launch of Europa Clipper. The Near Space Network provided communications and navigation services to SpaceX’s Falcon Heavy rocket, which launched this Jupiter-bound mission into space! After vehicle separation, the Deep Space Network acquired Europa Clipper’s signal and began full mission support. This is another example of how these networks work together seamlessly to ensure critical mission success.

Engineer Adam Gannon works on the development of Cognitive Engine-1 in the Cognitive Communications Lab at NASA’s Glenn Research Center.

7. Make Way for Next-Gen Tech

Our Technology Education Satellite program organizes collaborative missions that pair university students with researchers to evaluate how new technologies work on small satellites, also known as CubeSats. In 2024, cognitive communications technology, designed to enable autonomous space communications systems, was successfully tested in space on the Technology Educational Satellite 11 mission. Autonomous systems use technology reactive to their environment to implement updates during a spaceflight mission without needing human interaction post-launch.

A first: All six radio frequency antennas at the Madrid Deep Space Communication Complex, part of NASA’s Deep Space Network (DSN), carried out a test to receive data from the agency’s Voyager 1 spacecraft at the same time.

8. Six Are Better Than One

On April 20, 2024, all six radio frequency antennas at the Madrid Deep Space Communication Complex, part of our Deep Space Network, carried out a test to receive data from the agency’s Voyager 1 spacecraft at the same time. Combining the antennas’ receiving power, or arraying, lets the network collect the very faint signals from faraway spacecraft.

Here’s to another year connecting Earth and space.  

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[sheeezu]

The clock ticks by another illusion (The concept of time in shifting and law of assumption)

• Shifting research papers - 2 •

Time We all know this one, by heart. Time is a show of measurement, an organized system casting it's shadow over every phenomena on this Earth. It doesn't take two seconds to realize time is a man-made concept! but with deeper look through it's sub division, past and future aren't a thing, either. Think of it yourself, your past is a slow motion blur and a distant place in your memory. Your future is yet to come, is it at your doorstep? when will it arrive? it's a fading picture of hope and anticipation in your mind, although the future never comes, your plans align and flowers finally wither out. It's only the present, that's what you have currently, everything is right now. Your past is pre-determined and rehearsed in your consciousness when you sleep and in the pipeline when you wake up. So that the present moment remain stable, to set up the illusion of you being bound by time, although experienced and lived, technically the past didn't happen. Future is given to rest your abilities, future is the name of changing the present according to your beliefs, the input is converted to output, while you await. What I would like to conclude with this, is that, there is now. A blue sky, a still canvas where clouds come and go, they take form, they build up, they pour rain, create lightning, spread greenery and bloom flowers. This sky is your reality, the earth are your thoughts and belief. Without any implication of timelines, without fear of losing control, you can bring the change, shift realities, manifest desires. Treat illusions like what they are, while they remain they are powerless entirely, if they're the fog clouding your vision, than only you and your beliefs are the warm air that evaporates it.

[grimmtells]

✦ Wizarding Lore Compendium |​| The Three Elders and Winnie (TBA) |​| Grimmverse Heroes of Yore (TBA) ✦

✦ Son of 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞, the galaxy's most renowned mage, 𝐎𝐳𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐝 has risen to serve wizardkind as their second Grand Magister following the "passing" of his mother. Wielding her staff as both a symbol and a legacy to carry on, he now has the duty of safeguarding Magic itself. When 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞 threatened to engulf the galaxy in darkness, the wizards stood alongside the GSA and the Nichibotsu assassins. Together, they fought for years, united against this cosmic threat. Unfortunately, the assassins betrayed their comrades, aligning themselves with Nightmare. This treachery devastated the GSA, thinning their numbers and shaking morale. And though morale wavered, the GSA pressed on. Yet, the war reached a tragic turning point when 𝐘𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞, the orchestrator behind the ninjas’ treachery, abducted Ozwald from the battlefield astride a fearsome dragon demon beast. In a final, desperate cry before disappearing into the enemy’s grasp, the Grand Magister called out to his kin, commanding them to flee and never return. At that moment, none of them looked back, they obeyed their magister's last command and deserted the battlefield, leaving the GSA behind. A mere few weeks later, Ozwald reappeared, but the man who returned was no longer the same. Nightmare’s corrupting influence had taken hold, and wizard had been lost to darkness. Many years after the Great War, on a faraway planet called Popstar, King Dedede noticed that 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐛𝐲 was quite confused by magic tricks Tuff was performing. Without skipping a beat, Dedede activated his downloading system, a contraption from Holy Nightmare Enterprise, and demanded their most skilled magician. Thus, Ozwald was sent through their channels and set upon Kirby’s trail. A fierce battle ensued, with the young Star Warrior pushed to his limits. Yet, through resilience and determination, Kirby succeeded in breaking the spell that clouded Ozwald’s mind, freeing him from Nightmare’s grip and allowing the Grand Magister to finally regain his senses. Ever since, the Magister has been residing in Castle Dedede, occupying the vacant top of a tower.

✦ 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 ────────

✦ Voice Claim | Patrick Page, Oz speaks with a West Country english accent. ✦ Likes | Reading, Opera & Theater, Moonlit strolls & Stargazing, Lemons, Tea ✦ Dislikes | Hypocrisy, Disrespect/ Disdain against magic, Egotism

✦ 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 ───────────

• Despite looking as imposing as he does upfront, few are sweeter than him. Kind and endlessly patient, he'll engage in conversation with pretty much anyone, even Dedede. • While Ozwald believes that a certain degree of sterness is required to properly teach the youth, he also believes that being too harsh and demanding will not give positive results. He prefers to teach with rewards, and attempts to make any topic interesting to get the attention of easily distracted children like Tuff, who usually dislike learning "boring stuff". • Ozwald is extremely forgiving, perhaps to a fault, even. He, himself, says that as a man who has committed sins against his comrades, he does not get the luxury to be critical of what is done to him. • He is, however, never forgiving when it comes to humane decency and decorum. Rudeness is one thing he quite dislikes, and will grow annoyed by it very fast, still remaining as polite as can be on his end. He does not want to stoop down to this level. • Ozwald is very doting with children, and has a natural fatherly disposition that usually warms him up pretty quickly with kids of all ages, even the most cold and distant. • Old man rambles a lot. He's got a fondness for discussions around magic and any topics he enjoys, but quickly finds himself talking at length until he gets nervous that he might be bothering his interlocutor. • Ozwald has an easygoing sense of humour, while he does not hold grudges, he is not above using previous events as ammo to tease someone. • Ozwald gets quite competitive with games of any kind and events putting him against other people/teams. He's a bit of a sore loser, but he tries to hide it !

✦ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧 & 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫 ────

In depth description of the Mark here ! • About the Scar ~ Pierced through the eye by a kunai imbued with Nightmarish power, the wound defied all attempts of healing, leaving behind a hollow scar from which magic occasionally seeps through. • It resembles an unstable counterpart to the Mark of Merlin. While the MoM serves as a gateway to the core and source of all Magic and remains flawlessly stable, the scar can become volatile, leaking magic uncontrollably when Ozwald grows overly agitated.

✦ 𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ────────────

✦ 𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 ───────

✦ 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 ─────────────────

• Ozwald's closest loved ones are his mother, Merline, his little sister Winnie, the Three Elders of the Observatory Bumbledorr, Grindell and Maggie, and his magical owl, Duke Owlbert Hootsalot. • His birthdate is December 25th (12/25) • He has backpains, because Old. He gets very cranky when they start acting up. • He's a tea-drinker over coffee all the way. • He loves playing boardgames ! Always a good time between friends. • He's got quite the encyclopedia knowledge in astrology & astronomy. • Particularly likes the occasional baking of treats. • Ozwald is very adept at Offensive magic and Defensive magic, but also Supportive magic. During the Great War against Nightmare, him and most wizards were very important assets of the GSA, able to ward of most demon beasts, aside from those with magic resistance. • Ozwald and wizards as a whole do not really have mana. However, using magic, especially strong spells, for long periods of time can tire and wear them out. Ozwald can perform staffless magic. • He only has one eye ; he lost the other one during the war after a certain treacherous ninja threw a kunai at him. He tends to hide it with a glamour spell. He almost never lets it show.

[talonabraxas]

Great Planetary Alignment Talon Abraxas A very rare treat is about to grace Earth's night skies.

On the evening of 28 February 2025, all seven of the other planets in the Solar System will appear in the night sky at the same time, with Saturn, Mercury, Neptune, Venus, Uranus, Jupiter, and Mars all lining up in a neat row – a magnificent sky feast for the eyes known as a great planetary alignment. Actually, it's not uncommon for a few planets to be on the same side of the Sun at the same time, but it's less common for most, or even all of the planets to align.

Any number of planets from three to eight constitutes an alignment. Five or six planets assembling is known as a large alignment, with five-planet alignments significantly more frequent than six.

Seven-planet great alignments are, of course, the rarest of all.

These alignments aren't the neat planetary queues you see in diagrams and illustrations of the Solar System. That's not a thing that actually happens in the real Universe, sadly. Yet the planets do appear to arrange themselves along an imaginary line.

This occurs because the planets of the Solar System all orbit the Sun on a flat plane called the ecliptic. Some of the planets have orbits tilted slightly above or below this plane, but they're all more or less on the same level like grooves on a record thanks to the way stars like our Sun form.

A baby star in a cloud of material starts spinning; the cloud around them swirls into a flattish disk that feeds into the baby star around its equator.

Planets form from what remains of the disk and, if left uninterrupted by other gravitational influences, will remain orbiting in that level position. Occasionally, the planets will be on the same side of the Sun as they move along their orbits, so we get to see them in the sky at the same time. This is what will grace the sky on the evenings of January 21 and February 28.

[little-diable]

Finding solace in you – Carlisle Cullen (smut)

Thank you to the anon who pushed this drabble idea my way! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Reader and Carlisle spend a bit of time at the beach, while a thunderstorm hits.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, outdoor,

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x fem!reader (1k words)

The wind blew through her hair, leaving the strands to dance in the air as her eyes kept watching the waves roll ashore. She wore one of his jackets, cuddled into the expensive fabric to keep herself warm.

“It’s beautiful in this weather, we should do this more often.” (Y/n) murmured her words at Carlisle, who stood behind her, arms wrapped around his girlfriend. Her head rested against his broad chest, finding solace in his closeness after another tiring day. 

“We will, I promise, love.” Carlisle pressed his cold lips against her neck, enjoying the way she trembled against him as goosebumps began to form on her skin. Slowly, (y/n) turned in his grasp, slightly flinching as thunder loudly roared through the afternoon. 

Black clouds were covering the sky, leaving them completely alone out here as others found shelter in their homes, hidden from the storm that was about to hit. (Y/n) pulled Carlisle down for a kiss, groaning against his lips while deepening the kiss with her tongue meeting his. He didn’t loosen his grip, and kept holding her to him as if they were back at home, hidden from the rain that was now falling from the dark sky. 

“Love,” it was a warning, growled against her lips to push her away, to tell her that he wouldn’t hold back if she kept teasing him. But (y/n) kissed him again, not daring to stop touching her boyfriend when they got a few moments alone, away from nosy eyes and ears – just the two of them reunited beneath a dark sky as if the smoky clouds from the attack on Troy were hanging over their heads, ancient lovers enduring all these gruesome moments. 

“What will it take for you to fuck me out here?” Before she even spoke the last words, Carlisle had sped them across the beach to press her against a tree. He was towering over her, enjoying the way she was heavily breathing, panting from the anticipation flushing through her. 

“As if you’d have to convince me to touch you.” He clicked his tongue as (y/n) got to work on his belt, knowing that they wouldn’t drag this out, a quick fuck to get that poisonous longing out of their systems. Carlisle’s cold lips teased her neck, leaving (y/n) shuddering as the rain began to pour even heavier. They were protected from the strong rainfall by the tree he had pressed her against, and yet some drops managed to soak their clothes, leaving (y/n) torn between the different sensations. 

She was flipped around in his grasp, hands holding onto the tree as he pulled her jeans down to her knees, groaning at the sight of her panties. Carlisle’s cold fingers pulled the soaked fabric aside to brush his fingers through her slit, preparing her for the upcoming moments. 

“Fuck me, please, I don’t want to wait any longer.” (Y/n) almost sobbed her words, she let her head hang as he aligned himself with her heat, about to fuck her from behind. Both groaned in unison as Carlisle pushed into her, letting his head roll back to try and compose himself. Even though both were desperate for a release, they wanted to hold onto one another for as long as possible, enjoying every moment when they were alone together.

“You feel so good, love, my perfect girl.” He always found the time to praise (y/n), to prove his love to her even when he fucked her ruthlessly. (Y/n) could only sob at his words, letting her walls clench around him to try and tell him how much she needed him, hoping that he’d leave marks for her to admire later on. 

The pouring rain left its stain on both their clothes, letting the fabrics stick to their bodies as Carlisle fucked her with ferocious thrusts, forcing his cock deeper with every movement. Their bodies were forced together, clinging to their significant other as their surroundings began to close in on them. She felt every inch of him, forcing her walls apart as if he still had to shape her, forcing her to accept him, moulding them together to form a perfect symphony. 

Her palms rubbed against the tree bark as she tried to hold on, ripping open her skin to let a few drops of blood pour from the cuts – heightening Carlisle’s senses. His pace began to falter for a second, distracted by the smell of her blood, the sweetest smell Carlisle still wasn’t used to. He hadn’t been bothered by the smell for centuries, accepting the small distraction calling his name like a whisper in the night, he had always been able to drown it out – until (y/n) had crossed paths with him. The first time he had smelled her blood, Carlisle had been close to losing control, and now it was like a drug to him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. 

“Touch yourself, love, make yourself cum.” The murmured words left (y/n) trembling, forced to find her pulsing bundle to give her the needed push. His name clawed through her as she came on his cock, with her eyes squeezed shut and her fingernails breaking through the bark. Her cries echoed through the forest, ringing in Carlisle’s ears as he fucked himself towards his high, letting go of a gritty moan while cumming deep inside of her. 

“Fuck, that was good.” (Y/n)’s breathless laughter drew one out of Carlisle, guiding them as he pulled out of her. She was tugged in for a kiss, pressed against the tree she had clung to only moments ago, silently hoping that he’d eventually fuck her against this tree again. 

“Remind me to take you out of the house more often, love.” 

[firelordsfirelady]

II. Banishment

Author: @firelordsfirelady

Imagine: When Y/N—a princess of one of the Water Tribes—is told she’s leaving her tribe, she never expects that she’s to be betrothed to the Fire Lord’s son, nor was she prepared to be exiled the very day she arrived at the Fire Nation. With her life in the hands of her new fiancée, how will life change for the princess? 

Pairing: Zuko x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: arranged marriage, feelings of fear, banishment, mentions of burns/abuse, frustration, violence, betrayal

Word Count: 2119

Destined to be Yin and Yang

I own no rights to Avatar the Last Airbender or any of the characters/story. 

Author’s Notes

The characters as all aged up so Zuko’s banishment happens when he’s 16 

Keep in mind I am bringing a unique world with inspiration from ATLA in their characters, some of the events that happen, bending, etc. Not many things may align or occur with what happened in the show. It’s intended that way, so I hope you enjoy it regardless.

See Y/N's inspiration here.

Destined to be Yin and Yang Soundtrack (YouTube)

I had been fearful my first week or so aboard the ship to practice my waterbending. Since I now had no regular practice, I feared losing the knowledge of my element. As the full moon approached, the urge grew strong to waterbend, and I couldn’t stand to deny myself further. I devised a plan to sneak out on the night of the full moon to practice my waterbending.

The night of the full moon, I put my plan into action. Using small amounts of oil to grease the hinges of the door, I silently opened the door and peered into the hall. When silence greeted me for a satisfactory amount of time, I tip toed into the hallway and pressed my ear slightly against the door across from me. Once again, silence greeted me, and I crept away from the room containing the Fire Lord’s son. Sticking to the shadows, I crept through the corridor and peered through the little window of the door. None of the crew was on the deck, so I slipped out of the door.

The cool breeze of the open seas at night greeted me as I leaned against the wall as I faintly picked up the sounds of laughter and drunken shenanigans happening below deck. The crew had settled for the night to relax, and I felt some tension leave my shoulders. With light feet, I crept to the center of the deck and glanced up at the sky. The clouds parted to reveal the moon in all of its beautiful glory as I smiled at the display. Glancing around once more, I was satisfied to see no one else. 

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes as I let the pull to waterbend flow through me. Taking a small stream from the ocean, I water whipped the air over the railing on the other side of the boat. I slid my feet horizontally across the deck as I turned the stream to an ice sculpture before closing my fist to rupture the sculpture I just made. A genuine smile settled on my lips as relief flushed my system. Fighting back a small laugh, I danced with streams of water and ice as I embraced the power of the full moon. A sound from below brought my moment of joy to an end as I returned the water back to the ocean and quickly made my escape to my room. I slid into my bed with a smile on my face.

Closing my eyes, I made a promise to myself: I will be doing that every full moon.

The next morning, I was surprised to see Zuko present at the table for breakfast. I gave a polite nod to Iroh as I sat down at my usual spot and fixed a plate of some eggs then made a cup of tea. Zuko sat at the table quietly eating his own plate of breakfast, but he never looked at or acknowledged my presence. Iroh cleared his throat as he gave Zuko a certain look. The loud clatter of Zuko’s fork roughly hitting the ceramic plate as he let out an annoyed huff.

“Good morning, Princess.” Zuko practically growled as his face twisted in annoyance. My former title didn’t sound well coming from the former prince, so I gave him a soft smile.

“Y/N. You can just call me Y/N.” The young man across from me scuffed as he crossed his arms across his chest.

“Father cannot seriously expect me to marry someone as improper as you.” The soft smile on my lips wavered slightly at the prince’s harsh words, but I maintained my composure as I looked at Zuko’s scar. It looked fresh, but healing the best it could. Whatever caused the burn must’ve caused serious damage to his eye, and I speculated the wound had caused some problems for his sight; however, I kept my gaze only briefly on the scar as I shifted my gaze back to my eggs.

“Forgive me, Prince Zuko.” Iroh shook his head as I spoke, but the Prince did not look at me as I continued. “I was just trying to--”

“I told you that you won’t distract me from my mission.” Zuko let out in a burst of anger. “I don’t care about whatever you were trying to do. It won’t help me find the Avatar!” My heart sank to the bottom of my chest as I forced myself to take deep, calming breaths. I could feel tears threatening to gather in my eyes, but I excused myself from the table before retreating out of the room.

“Nephew--” I heard Iroh’s voice as I left the room.

“Do not nephew me! I am not wrong! She’s no use to me in finding the avatar.” Zuko’s angry words caused my eyes to burn more. I blinked away the tears in a desperate attempt to clear my blurry vision as I made haste to my bedroom. Once safe in the four walls I shared with no one, I collapsed on the bed and cried into the pillow. 

A series of soft knocks sounded on my door a few hours later. I sighed heavily as I granted permission to whomever was on the other side to enter. The door opened to reveal Iroh standing there holding a tray of hot tea.

“Would you care for some tea?” Iroh had a soft smile on his lips as he spoke in a gentle tone. I closed the book I had been reading as I gave the older man a soft smile.

“Only if it’s jasmine tea.” Iroh let out a belly laugh as he set the tray down on the small end table next to the bed.

“I am glad to have met someone else who has an appreciation for jasmine tea like myself.” His jovial tone immediately set my nerves at ease. “It is also Zuko’s favorite tea as well.” My heart clenched in hurt at the mention of the prince’s name, and Iroh’s eyes softened at me.

“I must apologize for my nephew’s comment earlier.” I looked at Iroh as he continued. “Not that it excuses his behavior, but would you like to know why Zuko was banished?” I raised an eyebrow at the older man with the long beard as he sipped on his cup of jasmine tea.

“Yes. No one on the ship seems to know why he is banished.” I admit quietly. “I’ve been curious since we boarded the boat.” I sipped on the warm liquid of my cup of jasmine tea, and sighed in content as the warmth spread within my chest and down to my stomach. The older man smiled as he took a seat on the small chair in front of the desk. 

“My brother has quite the reputation for military conquest. There is nothing and no one he wouldn’t sacrifice if it meant meeting his ultimate goal—to be the sole ruler of all the nations.” I nodded along as I listened to Iroh. “Zuko—being the next in-line for the throne—was present at this council meeting with Ozai and his generals. They were discussing a plan to invade and attack, but the crew was made of fresh recruits.” Iroh looked out of the window as he continued.

“When Zuko mentioned that the new recruits were not able to handle the task and would die in the battle, the general merely agreed while Ozai said that war comes with sacrifices.” A heavy sigh left the older man, and I felt I knew where this was going. “Zuko challenged the order, and his father said it would need to be settled with Agni Kai.”

I knew a little about the Agni Kai from the book I had just been reading. Even though Zuko was banished at this moment in time, I had wanted to learn more about the Fire Nation and their customs. Agni Kai were traditional firebender duels that occurred when one’s honor was challenged, and they only ended when one opponent burns the other. I felt the color drain from my face as the reality of how the burn got on Zuko’s face dawned on me.

“Zuko was prepared to fight the general, but when my brother stood across from Zuko at the Agni Kai….” Iroh’s voice trailed off as I closed my eyes. 

In my month aboard the ship, I had learned that Zuko was the same age as me. I couldn’t imagine how he felt when his own father challenged him in a battle of honor, nor could I imagine how he felt when his own father burned him. My heart ached for the young man, but I opened my eyes again to look at the older man who watched me with saddened eyes.

“Zuko hesitated one moment in the Agni Kai, and his father burned him for his weakness.” My thoughts briefly moved towards my own father, and how different mine and Zuko’s upbringing had been. My father would never have challenged me to such a fight, nor would he have caused physical harm to me. I couldn’t imagine what he endured as a child, nor the pain he must feel now. “His father exiled him and told him the only way to restore his honor is to return with the avatar.” Iroh and I exchanged knowing expressions. 

“What a cruel punishment.” I spoke without thought, which caused Iroh to chuckle. “Forgive me. I spoke without care.”

“Oh no.” Iroh smiled at me. “It is quite alright. I fear that I share similar thoughts.” His eyes softened at me. “Forgive me, my dear, for it appears that you too have been unfairly punished by this situation as well.” I shifted my gaze down to my hands as I fiddled with the empty cup.

“I had no clue what was happening the day I was told that I was to be betrothed to the Fire Lord’s son.” I started off in a low voice. “Mother and Father looked hesitant to tell me what terms the Fire Lord had accepted for peace.” 

“I barely had time that morning to say goodbye to everyone before I was rushed away to the ship and on my way to the Fire Nation.” My eyes blinked away tears as I recalled my parents’ somber expressions as I left, and I let out a humorless laugh. “I honestly had no idea what awaited me when the ship docked that day.”

“Part of me wondered—based on the stories they’ve told of the Fire Nation—if I was even going to be alive once I set foot on Fire Nation soil.” I played with a strand of my hair that dangled into my lap. “Lord Ozai said only to follow him, or I’d miss my boat.” Looking up at Iroh, I found more sadness in his eyes.

“I was so relieved to not be dead upon arrival, but I had a new fear that I wouldn’t survive three seconds on the boat.” I gave a small smile at the memory. “I am glad that my fears were just that—fears. I couldn’t imagine what Zuko must be feeling or what he’s thinking about.” 

“You are far wiser than most adults are:” Iroh said with a smile. “The Prince does not yet know how lucky he is.” My cheeks felt hot at the comment, but I shrugged away my embarrassment. 

“Mother and Father always told me to never judge someone before you get to know their story, and to always try your best to show kindness to strangers.” I shrugged as I looked out of the window in the room. “I was to be a ruler one day, and I wanted nothing more than to be a kind ruler like my father.” Shaking my head, I looked at Iroh. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

“You’re welcome.” Iroh nodded. “I know it doesn’t excuse Zuko’s behavior—“

“No, but it does help me understand this situation a bit more.” A sad smile found its place on my lips as Iroh gathered his tea tray. “Thank you for the tea and conversation. I really enjoyed it.” 

“If you ever need tea, I am always willing to make some.” He sent a small wink my way before he left, closing the door behind him. 

As I sat in the silence of my room, I felt a heavy feeling sink in my chest. The Fire Lord probably sought out the engagement as a source of embarrassment to place upon his son—as if he hadn’t been embarrassed enough. Instead of wallowing in self pity, a new idea slowly crept into my head, and I smiled at the thought.

I need to speak with the cooks.

Tag List @chevysstuffs @puttyly @hypnoticbeing

[doomhands-jr]

The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 7

Pairing: Delinquent!Noah Sebastian X Pastor's Daughter!Reader

Summary: Noah is a delinquent with a lot of anger at the church. You're a pastor's daughter plagued by moral perfectionism, charged with overseeing the community service he's been sentenced to complete. You've never encountered true temptation before. How will you fare up against Noah, who not only isn't bound by the same rules of purity as you, but actively scoffs at them?

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Angst, religious guilt, mentions of religious trauma, mentions of masturbation. Mentions of anti-choice propaganda.

Masterlist

Banner by @flowerynerds

Authors note: Maybe grab a cup of tea for this one.

_________

Noah Davis didn’t like to think of his actions in terms of morality. He understood that right and wrong were subjective. That life didn’t exist in binaries of good vs. evil, and that things like virtue and righteousness weren’t so easily defined. 

That didn’t mean there weren’t some steadfast rules he followed: 

Do his best to act in a way that aligns with his internal moral compass

Reduce harm much as possible

Do what’s best for the collective, while still keeping his best interests in mind

That line of thinking has served him well over the course of his lifetime. He’d freed himself from moral obligations and had done what he truly felt was best, and in doing so, he was able to walk through life with his head held high, standing by his actions. 

The idea that some of his behavior was sinful had not entered his mind since he formally left the church. 

But now, as he laid in bed, recovering from the tsunami of brain chemicals that just flooded his system, he felt like a sinner . 

The sin coursed through his body, sick and bittersweet. It flowed through his veins, infecting his cells and rotting his bones like a poison. Like a drug. 

He scrubbed a hand over his face, clammy palm meeting clammy forehead, cock still twitching with the aftershock. 

He’d expected you to put up more of a fight. He’d banked on you shutting him down, batting him away and telling him to behave himself, but you’d walked so willingly into his snare, so eager and needy, offering up yourself on a platter with almost no hesitation. 

It was a vile thing that you brought out of Noah. An ugly, profane creature that lurked in the shadows of his soul. He’d been aware of its existence in his periphery. It had been a sleeping beast. One he’d hoped he’d never have to contend with. 

But now? It had taken its first shuddering breath, and with it, thrown down its gauntlet. Its demand? You—not as a partner, but as a sacrifice. Sprawled out on an altar for it to consume and defile. To claim for the sake of hubris. 

Noah longed to find a way to cleanse himself—confess his sins and pray the rosary. Baptize himself in holy water. Take communion and walk forth a forgiven man. Would that be enough? 

War had been waged within Noah, and the odds were stacked against him. He was David, standing at the feet of Goliath. Jonah, staring down the gullet of the whale. 

He squeezed his eyes shut and the image of you at the apex of pleasure flashed across his vision. You’d made that offering to him. It was sacred. He’d cherish it for the rest of his life.  

_______

Noah had no holy water available to him to wash his sins away. He did have a hot shower, though, and at least that was a start. 

Turning on the water, he allowed the steam to gather in clouds around his bathroom. His skin had grown sticky with sweat, and his shoulders ached. As soon as he stepped under the spray, the tension began to dissipate. 

He pressed his forehead against the cool tile wall and allowed the stream to trickle down his back. 

He had a duty to himself—and to you. There was no denying his affection for you, but therein lied a glaring problem: you were ready for more. You deserved more. You deserved to push past these boundaries of purity and explore who you were outside of faith, and that made you vulnerable. Because whatever sickness lived inside Noah was itching to exploit that vulnerability. Not for your benefit, but for its own.

“Help me figure this out,” he whispered against the shower wall. It was a prayer in the most ironic sense. He wasn’t sure if he even believed in what he was praying to, but without any other ideas, it felt like the right thing to do. “I don’t want to hurt her, but I’m afraid.” 

He received nothing but silence in response. 

He scoffed at his own actions. What did he expect? Divine understanding? 

He grabbed the soap, lathering it up before scrubbing it over his disgusting, unclean body. Why did he even bother? He learned long ago that nobody was going to save him but himself. If he wanted his demons to die, he’d have to be the one to kill them. 

________

On a snowy Sunday morning, Noah didn’t have a church to attend, but he did have a pair of work boots, a heavy coat, and a trail through the woods that allowed him to commune with nature. 

He also had a pre-roll he stole from Nick, which he cupped against his jacket to light. It took a few tries. The wind wasn’t biting, but it was present, and it flickered the flame in his lighter. He eventually got it lit though, and he took a deep drag, holding the smoke in his lungs and waiting for it to take effect. 

Exhaling slowly through his nose, he closed his eyes to focus on the high setting in. His body began to lift, a warm, cloudy, hollow feeling expanding out from his chest to his limbs, and ten minutes later, the joint was spent and Noah was intricately connected to the forest around him.

He walked on the trail, delighting in the way the frozen leaves crunched under his boots. He forgot his gloves again, so he stuffed his hands in his pockets as he walked. 

You were probably in church right now. Might even be on stage leading the praise and worship music alongside Isaac, where you were safe. 

No, that wasn’t true. You deserved more than the life you’d find within the church. If you stayed put, you’d eventually find yourself on the arm of some 30-something with a trust fund and a perfect attendance record at Sunday school. You’d have to hide who you were from society, pretending to fit in where you didn’t belong. 

Noah dug his nails into the palms of his hands. He wanted you to have more than that, but he wasn’t the right person to give it to you. At least not in his current state. 

Giving up the idea of you was painful, yes. But it also gave him time to figure out how to contend with the ugly parts of himself. If he could let go of his desire for you, then he wouldn’t have to risk that part of him taking over. He could lock it back into the cage he’s kept it in for so many years and continue on in life as if nothing had ever happened. 

He’d never have to know that hunger again. 

He breathed in deep, allowing the frigid air to sting his lungs and throat. It wasn’t painful enough for him. He needed to toil and sweat and suffer to repent for his sins. He picked up his pace, letting his feet fall heavy onto the ground. Within a few minutes, his heart rate sped up, lungs stretching to accommodate his increased need for oxygen. All systems firing to pump fresh blood through his body. 

That helped. Maybe he could sweat the fever out. Force the toxicity to exit through carbon dioxide and leave it as an offering to the forest so it can convert it back to oxygen. 

He broke out into a run, thinking back to the time he caught you running in the rain and wondering if you’d been seeking the same energetic cleanse. 

You’d cried in his arms that night. 

He slowed his pace, down from a run to a jog. 

It was the first time he’d noticed something wrong—the first time he sensed that his control was slipping. 

A stray root caught his foot and he fell hard to the ground, catching himself with his palms and knees. He stayed there for a moment to assess his body and see if any damage had occurred, and when he found none, he rolled onto his back and laid in the snow and mud, stretching his arms and legs to the side and creating a snow angel. 

The snow fell lightly, catching on his eyelashes. He stuck out his tongue, allowing the tiny flakes to melt upon contact and tasting the nothingness of it all. 

He closed his eyes, and he was thirteen again. A nude magazine lay open on his floor. He’d just finished masturbating for the third time that day. Sobbing, he grabbed the leather belt hanging over his desk chair and whipped himself across the back with it. Harder this time than last. Perhaps with enough pain, he would learn his lesson. 

He bunched a shirt up and stuffed it into his mouth, biting down hard to muffle himself as he wept. God surely wouldn’t forgive him again after this. He would be sent to hell for being so unclean. 

For months, he’d tried to break this disgusting habit, but it was to no avail. He was sick and perverted, and lacked the self-control he needed to resist temptation.  

He didn’t want to go to confessional. He didn’t want to have to hear his priest’s disappointed voice telling him to say ten hail-marys. 

He took a deep, shuddering breath in, noticing how the icy air stabbed at his lungs. He didn’t want to dwell too long on that memory. He could already feel his throat constricting. 

It wasn’t until he befriended Ruffilo that he realized he wasn’t uniquely perverted. Ruffilo hadn’t been raised in a church. He talked about porn as if it was something exciting, rather than shameful. He’d been the first one to bring up the subject of masturbation, making casual comments and jokes about how often he got himself off. 

Ruffilo’s world—a world without shame—had been a foreign concept to Noah. After being exposed to it, he realized that faith and freedom were mutually exclusive. There was no way to balance the two, so he chose freedom and never looked back. 

Noah’s fingers found a frozen leaf. He caressed the edges, feeling how smooth they were and remembered brushing bits of leaves off your coat that time you’d jumped in the leaf pile. He remembered how you gasped when his frigid hands ghosted over the nape of your neck. He could have cut the tension with a knife. 

He couldn’t go back to the church. There was too much pain there to revisit. He cut off that part of him a long time ago, back when believing in God meant engaging in his own self-destruction. 

Being with you meant dipping his toes back in the water of religion. You and faith were a package deal. He knew that. You weren’t going to give it up any time soon, and certainly not for him. 

He closed his eyes again and felt the sting of saltwater. He wasn’t going to cry. He’d done enough of that in his adolescence. But the feelings were there, and they weren’t going to let him off the hook without being felt. 

It was you or self-preservation.

He inhaled deeply and forced himself back up, turning to start the long trek back to town. A conversation needed to be had. 

________

There was no priest to whom he could confess his sins, but there was Folio, and late on a Sunday afternoon, he could be found stoned in his room. 

“I fucked up,” he announced, standing in the doorway.

Nick was on his bed, controller in his hands and headset on. From where Noah stood, he couldn’t see the screen, but he guessed his friend was mowing down enemies in Call of Duty. 

“In the middle of something,” he said. “Give me a few.” 

Noah invited himself into the room and sat in Nick’s desk chair, observing the décor. Nick decorated his walls with posters of women in various states of undress. Some of them were holding fish. Others were posed on top of cars. 

His fishing rod and tackle box rested in the corner next to his desk. An electric drum kit lined the far wall. Clothes were strewn about the room, along with drumsticks, food wrappers, and half-empty water bottles. A few cans of beer spilled out of the overfull trash can. On the nightstand sat an ashtray with the spent ends of several blunts stuffed in the center. 

Quite the confessional booth. 

“What’s up?” he said, taking his headset off and turning his attention to Noah. 

“I fucked up,” Noah repeated. 

Nick blinked twice, but made no other movement. “Okay,” he said. “In what way?” 

“You already know.” 

“The pastor’s daughter?” Nick guessed, tilting his head lower to stare at Noah through furrowed brows. “Did you fuck her?” His tone was accusatory, and deservedly so. 

Noah shook his head. “Not exactly.” 

Nick turned on his bed to face Noah head-on. “What did you do?” 

Noah deliberated over exactly how much to tell his friend. What happened between the two of you last night was private and he didn’t want to share your business with someone else unless you said it was okay, but he needed to get some things off his chest. 

“So,” he began, taking a deep breath and shaking his head. “I think I need to stay away from her for a while. I’ve got some stuff to sort out and until I do, I might hurt her.” 

Nick gave himself time to fully process what Noah had just said. He inhaled deeply through his nose, letting his eyes drift away from Noah and relaxing his focus as he mulled it over. 

“You really care about her?” he asked. 

Noah nodded. 

“Want me to stay away from her, too?” It was an honest question, and Noah was suddenly struck with how much his friends cared about him. 

Noah squeezed and relaxed his hands a few times to increase circulation in his fingers. They were still cold from his walk. 

“No, actually. If anything, I think you’d be a really good influence for her. She could use someone like you.” 

Nick’s eyebrows pulled up in the center. He tilted his head to the side. “Why do you say that?” 

“She needs to have more fun,” he said. “She’s been repressed for a really long time and I think she’s ready to break out of that and live life.” 

Nick’s eyes went wide and he  pointed to his chest. “And you want me to be the one to help with that?” 

Noah didn’t want Nick to do that. The last thing he wanted was to see you enjoying yourself without him, but if it was between that and you staying miserable under the church’s influence, he at least wanted you to be happy. 

“I think you’d be good for her,” he said, working hard to make sure he didn’t sound bitter at all. 

“What if I fuck her?” he asked, his momentary sincerity seemingly over. 

Noah’s face dropped. “Don’t fuck her.” 

“But what if I do?” 

Noah clenched his jaw, grinding his molars together as he steadied himself. He knew Nick didn’t mean anything by it. He was just being himself and trying to rile Noah up, but Noah wasn’t about to give in. 

“Then make sure you’re on the same page with her about what it means. Don’t lead her on.” 

Nick chewed on his tongue. “Where is all this coming from?” He asked. “Why do you think you’ll hurt her?” 

“I guess,” Noah said, picking at a bit of dead skin on his lip, “It’s sort of just a gut feeling? I don’t know how to describe it, but there’s something in there that tells me I gotta sort myself out before I get involved with anyone.” 

Nick blinked up at his friend, softening. “I didn’t realize you were so serious about her.” 

“I don’t know what I feel,” said Noah. “I just need some time to figure that out.” 

“You okay?” he asked, hand coming up to scratch an itch at the back of his neck. 

Noah nodded. “I will be,” he said. It was true, he would be okay eventually. He was sure of that. He’d survived worse than this. He just needed to figure out what the best course of action would be. 

Nick’s eyes flicked back to the paused game on the screen. “So you’re saying it’s cool if I fuck her then?” he said. 

Nick could be a real asshole at times. He was abrasive by nature. Many found his personality overwhelming, but the ones who stuck around knew that he was an antagonist, not to be mean, but to challenge people—coax them out of their comfort zones and force them to confront their triggers. He wasn’t always right, and he often stuck his own foot in his mouth, but when he was right, he was so right, it made up for all the other times. 

This time, however, he used his skill to diffuse the tension. 

“Man, fuck you,” said Noah, slapping the ash tray off the end table. It tipped over sideways and spilled its contents onto Nick’s bed, coating his sheets with ash and spent roaches. 

“Bro!” Nick shouted, but Noah was already out of the room, hissing to himself with laughter, and Nick was too couch locked to chase him. 

________

“Noah said to tell you he’s sorry. He got called in for overtime again,” Nick said as he walked into the community center seven minutes late. 

Your heart sank. Not just because you wouldn’t get to see Noah, but because he could have easily texted this information to you himself. 

It was as you’d suspected. Noah was avoiding you.

Over the course of the week, you’d grown more and more stressed. Sunday was fine. You’d woken up feeling well rested, having dreamt of Noah throughout the night. At church, you couldn’t focus on any of the sermon because you were too consumed reliving the previous night. 

Monday came and went with no word from Noah. You thought for sure he would have texted you to say hi or check up on you. Some sort of acknowledgement that the dynamic between the two of you had shifted. But you’d also heard it was customary to wait three days. 

So you waited. 

By Wednesday, your patience had grown thin. You’d given him the benefit of the doubt, wondering if maybe he was nervous and waiting for you to reach out, so you had, sending him a casual hey . 

He never responded. You’d been checking your phone religiously over the course of the week, but it had been radio silence on his end. 

“Okay. Thanks for letting me know.” You kept a straight face and a steady voice while you spoke, but it took effort. “We’re supposed to be shoveling snow today but since there’s only us, I’m going to veto that.” 

Nick sighed in relief. “Thank god . I wasn’t built for the cold.” 

“Get inside,” you nodded towards the doors. “We’ll start with windows.” 

He offered up a salute and bounded through the doors, eager to escape the cold. 

As Nick got to work, you processed this information. 

Noah’s silence was deafening. 

Was this your punishment? Was God unhappy with your behavior and was this his way of letting you know? 

An element to this was fitting. This was the cost, you realized. This was the price you paid for giving into temptation. 

A bitter laugh escaped under your breath. 

Was the church right about everything? Was there a reason you shouldn’t fall into temptation? 

Maybe Hell did exist—and it wasn’t a lake of fire, but the absence of Heaven after you’d already tasted it.  

Even after everything, you probably would still have done it all over again if you had the opportunity. He’d introduced you to a part of yourself that had been dormant for a long time and for that, you were grateful. 

But the price was steep. 

Your biggest regret was that you hadn’t even gotten to touch him before it was all over. You felt so stupid. Why couldn’t you have held out a little longer? Resisted temptation until you had him fully within your grasp? 

But then again, perhaps the loss of him would be even more painful, wouldn’t it? 

You sighed and stretched your arms up, resting your forearms on your head as you observed Nick spraying down the windows with cleaner. 

You could get through this. It would be hard, but it was within your grasp. People have survived much worse. In the grand scheme of things, this heartache was minor. It would hurt for a while, but eventually you’d recover and life would go on. 

It was just a matter of getting to the other side. 

You wanted to remember this pain. Savor the full impact and hopefully this would be the only time you needed to learn this lesson. You’d grow, heal, and move on a better and stronger version of yourself. 

Eventually. 

Right now, you needed to focus on the task at hand: overseeing community service without getting yourself into any more trouble. And that’s what you were going to do.  ________

That did prove to be a tougher job than you anticipated. Nick was charismatic as ever and kept trying to get your attention. 

You’d throw him a bone every once in a while, if only because it genuinely did lift your spirits to be around him. He was a much safer presence. 

“How many weeks do I have left?” 

You were strewn across the back pew, doing your best not to wallow, but failing pretty spectacularly, when Nick’s voice broke you out of your ruminations. 

“I’m not sure,” you said, sitting up and looking at him. He leaned casually against the back of the pew, rag thrown over his shoulder. His fingers tapped a rhythm on the wood. “I have it written down somewhere. I’d have to look.” 

“Can you let me know next week?” he asked, bouncing on his heels. You could see what attracted Ava to him so much. 

“Yeah.” 

“Or actually, maybe this Friday. Isn’t that when your Christmas thing is?” 

You blinked stupidly up at him. You’d forgotten all about the upcoming showcase. 

“Oh, yeah. It is. I didn’t realize you knew about it.” 

“Yeah,” he said, and then shifted on his feet as if he was trying to figure out a way to avoid saying that Noah told him about it. Which would mean that Nick was also aware of the awkwardness between the two of you. 

“Were you thinking of going?” you asked. “You don’t have to.” 

“I thought it might be fun to see you sing,” he said, voice soft and lips smiling.  

You were momentarily taken aback. You didn’t think Nick cared about anything you were doing. The thought that he might be interested in your life outside of community service was one that hadn’t crossed your mind. 

“Really?” you asked. 

He looked side to side and nodded, as if it should have been obvious to you. 

“Nick, that would mean so much. I would love for you to come.” 

“Good,” he said, a self-satisfied smile back on his face. “But try not to suck or I won’t be donating anything.” 

You snorted loudly. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” 

“Anytime.” 

The conversation died down, and you could feel the elephant in the room rearing its head. 

You could ask how Noah was doing. It wouldn’t be too out-of-character. But you’d give yourself away easily if you did. 

Besides, nothing good would come of it. If Noah wanted to contact you, he would. If he didn’t, then he was just someone you needed to get over. 

Nick lingered, just as hesitant to leave the conversation. 

“You doin’ okay?” he asked. 

You sighed, leaning into the back of the pew. “Yeah,” you said. “I’m fine.” 

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked. 

You rolled your head across the pew to look over at him. His face held a neutral expression, but there was softness in his eyes. 

“Maybe some other time,” you said. “Thank you, though.” 

“No problem,” he said. “I’m here if you need me.” He punctuated it with a squeeze to your shoulder and your hand came up to clasp over his on its own accord. He was warm, and truth be told, you really needed the gesture. 

Perhaps you’d be okay. 

_______

“And there were no signs prior to this?” 

“No,” you said, collapsing on Ava’s bed while she worked on her Contemporary Art project from her desk. It looked like a big lump of Styrofoam. She held a strip of sandpaper, rubbing it back and forth over a corner and causing little pieces to flake off and litter the desk and floor beneath her. 

“And neither of you talked beforehand about what it would mean?” 

“No,” you grumbled, recognizing your first mistake. You absolutely should have talked about what it meant for the both of you before doing anything, and you can’t understand why you’d been so foolish to skip over that. “It just sort of…happened?” 

Ava fixed you with an imploring stare. 

“Babe, I’m really sorry that you got hurt, but. I don’t know,” she began. “Aren’t you always the one preaching about that kind of thing? It seems like you could have used a little bit of your own advice, don’t you think?” 

You turned over and let out a loud groan into Ava’s pillow. 

“Not helping.” 

“I know, I know. That was probably insensitive. I just,” she trailed off, turning back to her project. “Maybe this was a lesson you needed to learn? Not to look down on others for the things they struggle with. And maybe also to recognize that we’re all human. We’re all sinners. Even you?” 

You pouted. “You really think I needed to learn that?” 

“You’ve been known to judge in the past.” 

“I’ve been better about that!” you said, throwing your hands up in the air. 

“I know,” she said. “I know you have.” She pouted back at you. “Maybe I’m not the best person for this kind of talk.” 

You sighed, crossing your arms over your stomach. “No, you’re fine. I think I’m just feeling sorry for myself is all.” 

Ava got up from her desk, brushing as many Styrofoam flakes from her clothes as she could, and crawled into her bed with you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. You melded into her touch. “You’re allowed to feel hurt. He did send you mixed signals.” 

“What about you and Nick?” you asked. She chewed on her lip for a moment. 

“Nick and I…we talked about it beforehand. We knew it was just for that night going into it.” She rested her chin on your shoulder. 

“You didn’t want to pursue anything more?” 

Ava shrugged beside you. “Neither of us is looking for anything.” 

You leaned your head on her shoulder. It would have been nice had you had the same disposition going into the encounter with Noah. You could have just enjoyed it for what it was and then went your separate ways without any complicated feelings. You admired Ava’s ability to do that. 

“You’re right,” you said. “We should have talked about it beforehand. Made sure we were on the same page.” 

You turned to bury your face in her shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut to keep any tears from escaping. 

“It doesn’t always work out that way,” she said. “Don’t judge yourself for your mistakes.” 

She stroked your back as you failed to prevent your eyes from leaking. “Is it okay if I cry on you?” you asked, voice muffled by her shirt, a stray piece of Styrofoam finding its way into your mouth. 

“Babe, of course. I’m here for you.” 

You nodded into her shoulder, allowing the first of many sobs to fall. She continued to stroke your back, soothing you as you wept. 

It hurt. You’d trusted Noah to care for you. You never would have believed him to be the type to get what he wants and then not call. 

Plus, he still had five weeks of community service (you’d checked), and there wasn’t any way he could get out of that. 

“How am I supposed to face him on Saturday?” you whined. 

“Hmmm,” she said. “Is Folio talking to you?” 

“Yeah,” you sniffed. “He’s actually been really nice.” 

“What if you just talk to him? Use him as a distraction so you don’t have to talk to Noah. Who knows? Maybe having fun with him would help you move on.” 

You pulled away to look at her. 

“You mean like…?” you trailed off. 

She laughed. “I’m not saying have sex with the guy,” she said. “I doubt he’d do that since Noah’s like, his best friend. But he’s a good guy and he’s fun to be around. And you could use that kind of energy in your life.” 

You sniffled again and let your head drop back down to rest on her, spitting out another fleck of Styrofoam. It truly was everywhere. 

You doubted that hanging out with Nick would help you get over Noah. If anything, it would just remind you of him. But you did need more friends in your life, and he was someone you could see yourself getting along with. 

Perhaps focusing on your friendships would help. You squeezed Ava’s middle. 

“I love you,” you said. “Please be my friend forever.” 

She breathed softly, squeezing you back. “If you play your cards right.” 

______

Friday’s showcase had a much larger turnout than expected. People lined the pews and even stood in the back after all the available seats had been filled. You peeked through one of the side doors that entered onto the stage and saw Nick sitting in a middle row. Ava sat a few rows in front of him. She caught your eye and gave you a big thumbs-up for good luck. 

Your eyes scanned over the crowd, searching for a tall, tattooed figure and coming up short. 

He said he was going to come. He was the one who had pressed you for the information in the first place. 

You looked down at your phone screen. 6:53. He still had seven minutes to make it. 

You exhaled a deep breath and shook your hands out, trying to calm your nerves. 

“Want to pray?” came Isaac’s deep voice to your right. You looked over to find him standing quite close to you. His usual v-neck and beanie had been swapped out for a white button-down and black tie, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was tied neatly in a bun atop his head. 

“Sure,” you breathed, figuring you could use some prayer. 

He grasped your hands in his. His were warm. Steady. They helped to soothe your nerves. 

“God,” he began, “please watch over us and guide us as we work to spread the good news of Jesus’s birth. Let us not falter. Allow our voices to ring true and fall on ears willing to hear. In your name. Amen.” 

“Amen,” you repeated, working hard not to roll your eyes. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate the prayer. It was just that Isaac talked as if he were living a hundred years ago, trying his best to sound profound, and you weren’t entirely convinced it was solely for God’s listening pleasure. He was a performer, after all. 

He squeezed your hands, smiling. “Almost time. Are you nervous?” he asked. 

“A little bit,” you said, noticing the discomfort in your gut. 

“Don’t be. You’ve got this. It’s just the one solo and then you’re in the choir for the rest of it.” His thumbs rubbed over the backs of your hands, and you were about to pull your hands away from him, but it actually was quite soothing. He seemed like he genuinely cared about you. And he smelled nice. Some sort of expensive-smelling cologne that was the complete opposite of whatever spiced oil Noah wore, but in a really good, clean way. 

“You look great, by the way,” he added, taking a step back and giving you a once-over. “I like the dress.” 

The dress in question was a high-necked A-line in a bright shade of red to match the holiday theme (Christmas theme, your father would correct you, because apparently no other holidays existed to him). 

You wore a dark green cardigan overtop, along with a gold necklace and black heels. Your lips were painted to match the dress. It was the most dressed-up you’d been since last Christmas. When you chose the outfit, you were still under the impression that a certain tattooed someone would see it. 

“Thanks,” you said. 

You could tell by the way Isaac lingered that he wanted to continue the conversation, but you didn’t feel much like talking. Needing an exit, you excused yourself to go get a drink of water. 

Weaving through other soloists and members of the church choir, you made your way down one of the two hallways that flanked either side of the main sanctuary. You rounded the corner, where one of the members of your church’s worship band—Darian—was passing out programs for the event. 

“Hey! You ready for your solo?” he asked when he saw you. 

You smiled, breathing out a nervous laugh. “Yeah,” you said, scanning the stragglers still arriving for any sign of Noah. 

“I’d be nervous if I was on first,” he said. You took your eyes off the latecomers and looked to find him smiling encouragingly at you. 

“Yeah,” you said, shifting your weight awkwardly. “Isaac insisted for some reason that I open.” 

Your stomach sank even more. You couldn’t see Noah anywhere. 

“He mentioned it was because your song would set the tone for the evening,” said Darian, but you were only half-listening. “Do you want one of these?” 

You looked back at him. “What?”

He held out a program for you to take. “In case you wanted to keep it. For posterity, or scrapbooking or whatever.” 

“Yeah, sure,” you said, grabbing it without really thinking. 

Your emotional bandwidth had been all but used up, chest tight and head foggy. You felt bad that you weren’t really engaging in conversation, or even paying attention to it for that matter, but hoped Darian would forgive you. 

Sensing that you weren’t in the headspace to talk, Darian wished you luck and went back to handing out programs. You thanked him and continued walking across the foyer and down the opposite hallway with no real destination in mind. You were to go on in less than a minute. 

You shook your head, trying to get out of it and into your body. You needed to connect with your voice in order to perform, but you couldn’t seem to steady your breathing. 

The sanctuary was laid out in a rectangle, with the foyer lining the back, hallways with classrooms running the length of either side, and then a room behind the main stage, so from where you stood at the end of the hall, you could see through the windows of the doors to the stage that the lights had dimmed. 

Isaac walked out to the center of the stage from the hallway opposite you. A spotlight appeared on him, and with an abundance of charismatic charm, he thanked the audience that had gathered, before leading them in yet another prayer to bless the evening’s performance and to let God’s will be done. 

Throughout the entirety of his introduction, you’d zoned in and out. Your nerves ate at you, consuming your focus and leaving you feeling detached from your surroundings. 

You’d performed this song a dozen times at least, and in front of much of the same audience, too. You performed every week in front of the congregation on Sundays. Perhaps you’d struggled with stage fright at one point in your life, a decade ago when you were still fairly new to performing, but these days you were at-home in front of a microphone. 

And yet. 

Your knees shook. A cold sweat had broken out on the back of your neck, and your stomach clenched and released several times in quick succession. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please enjoy O Holy Night, performed by my dear personal friend, and co-leader of our praise and worship team,” Isaac began. 

You heard your name being called, snapping you out of the haze. 

The audience applauded. Isaac gestured to the doorway opposite you, where he assumed you would be entering from. 

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door and walked to the center of the stage. Isaac turned when he heard the doors open, looking caught off-guard for a moment, but he recovered quickly, gesturing to you and clapping to signal to the audience that they should keep their applause going. 

He slowly backed away and gave you a double thumbs-up before exiting the stage. 

Recognizing you were still holding the program Darian had handed you, you clasped your hands behind your back and stepped up to the microphone. 

The soft piano intro played out over the loud speakers. You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply. 

O holy night,  

The stars are brightly shining,  

It is the night of our dear savior’s birth.  

The first note came out shaky. You’d pushed too hard with your diaphragm, allowing more air than was needed to pass through your vocal folds. You closed your eyes and focused on breath control, feeling the spotlight heat your skin. 

Long lay the world 

In sin and error pining  

‘till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.  

Back in the late 1843, a church in the south of France had its organ renovated. After the renovations were complete, the church reached out to a French poet by the name of Placide Cappeau, asking him to write a poem that could be used as a hymn. In response, Cappeau penned the first iteration of O Holy Night.  

Placide Cappeau was a known atheist.  

A thrill of hope. The weary world rejoices  

When the Catholic Church got wind of an atheist creating a Christmas carol, they did their best to bury the song. They claimed it lacked musical flavor. At the time, the idea of all men and women owning souls was highly radical. 

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.  

O Holy Night has since become one of the most popular Christmas carols known to western society, thanks in part to John Sullivan Dwight translating it to English in 1855. 

You knew this, because you’d written a history of the carol for an end-of-semester project back when you went to high school at Calvary Baptist. 

Fall on your knees. O hear the angel voices,  

At the time, you’d wondered how an atheist—someone who, in your mind, stood against everything you stood for, could write such a beautiful song that touched the hearts of you and so many others. 

O night, divine. O night, when Christ was born.  

How could someone with no connection to God write something that so clearly captures the essence of the Holy Spirit?

You chanced a look out at the crowd, once more searching for the familiar face you so wanted to see. The atheist who understood more about Christ’s love than so many in the church ever would, and found no sign of him. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for the high note that signaled the climax of the song. 

O night, O holy night. 

Your voice rang out, loud and with a pleasing vibrato you’d finally learned to control three years ago. You paused for effect. The music cut out, and you sang the last line. 

O night divine!  

It was over. You’d done it. The piano melody came back in for the closing notes, and you curtseyed elegantly as the crowd applauded. 

You exited through the same doors you entered, heading straight for the restroom so you could take a moment to yourself before you had to be back on stage in the choir for O Come All Ye Faithful.  

Placing your program on the sink counter, you ran your hands under cool water, intending to splash some on your face when a small blurb on the bottom of the pamphlet caught your eye. 

Collection plates will be passed around. Please help us save countless unborn lives by making a donation. 

Unborn lives. 

Isaac was donating the proceeds to a pro-life organization. 

You’d been unknowingly roped in to an anti-choice fundraiser. 

A wave of anger erupted from deep within you, washing over your entire body and pulsating through it. 

You snatched the program from the counter, storming out the bathroom, across the foyer, and to the adjacent hallway Isaac stood at the end of. 

“What the Hell, Isaac!?” you near-shouted, bounding toward him. 

Isaac’s eyes widened upon your approach. He took several steps back, running into two of the other choir members, but it wasn’t enough. You slammed the program into his sternum. 

“Whoa!” he said, grasping the program you’d thrust at him with one hand and holding the other out to keep you from coming any closer. “Where’s the fire?” 

“What is this?!” you said, stabbing the program on his chest with your finger where the blurb appeared. 

He looked at you bewildered, then down to where your index finger pushed into his chest, and then back to you like you were a mad woman. “We said we wanted to give the proceeds to charity.” 

“Yeah,” you said, ripping the program out of his hand and throwing it down at his feet. “Like a soup kitchen or a toy drive. Not to Life Alliance!” 

Isaac’s eyebrows pulled together in blatant confusion. “What’s better than saving innocent lives?” he said. 

“Oh my God,” you scoffed, not caring whether or not it counted as taking the Lord’s name in vain. 

 Suddenly all the air in the room felt like it had been vacuumed out and you found yourself struggling to breathe. 

Taking a step backwards, it dawned on you that this was your limit. The church had compressed you your entire life, and you’d finally reached your breaking point. “I can’t participate in this.” You said it not to Isaac, but to yourself. “I have to go.” 

“Hey! Hold on,” Isaac said. “You can’t leave. You’re our first soprano. We need you for the high G.” 

You shook your head, turning on your heel. You wouldn’t have been able to hit that note even if you wanted to with how your throat was constricting. 

“We can talk about this. Maybe we can do more than one charity,” he said, but you were already halfway down the hall, tears threatening to spill over. 

The heels you wore made it hard to run down the icy sidewalk, but run you did. Down the sidewalk, down the street. You didn’t stop running until you’d put several blocks between you and the church. 

You’d once thought of it as a sacred place—a home away from home. 

Now, the only time you felt at home in it was on Saturday mornings, sharing the space with two delinquents who didn’t even believe in God. 

Nowhere felt sacred anymore. 

Nowhere except the shed in the backyard of Jolly’s house. But you were cut off from that now, too. 

Where did you belong now?  __________ How are we all feeling after that? Also, if anyone has any artistic skills and would like to help me make a moldboard or a banner or something for this story, I would be forever grateful!

Taglist: @dem11, @starcrossedwasteland @alm0std3add @reyadawn @karenfranco, @glam-cherry-bomb @simpingforniragi, @koalakoala8, @themorticians-world, @sleepytoken99, @xmagdalenaxbrenaxorestes, @dark-mist666, @fuck-me-muke, @xmads-omensx, @just-randomm-stuff @spookychaosstranger, @gravitysembrace, @somebodyels3, @sundamariis, @noahsebastions, @cyber-tiny @livingdeceasedgirl @xxkittenkissesxx @treacheryinblue @flowerynerds @1toreyouapart @badomensls @rain-down-on-me @ilovemewwwww75 @poisongirl616 Click here to join the taglist!

[rainbowxocs]

(Reference coming soon)

(CURRENT THIS REFERENCE IS BASED ON THE MYTH. I WILL UPDATE IT ONCE THE MYTH IS OVER.)

Written by meeee!!

Name: Evren Nevermore!!

Alter of: Daisy Bell!!!

Role: Protector!

Alt Names: The Void, The Skybox!!

Special Titles: The Prophet.

Username: lappelduvide!! It’s a pun. Hehe.

Nicknames: Little Raven, Prophet, Caesar, Brutus, Julius.

Age: 17!!

Pronouns: Any Pronouns!!

Sexuality: eh whatever.

Gender: eh whatever.

Species: Technically, I am the same species as Daisy but like- I am a void. What is a void? Great question!! I dunno cause I kinda made it up Im going to be so for real.

Disorders: I have the same disorders as Daisy.

Physical Disabilities: I have the same disabilities as Daisy.

Religion: Daisyism, obviously.

Job: My main job is to like, protect Daisy obviously, but also to keep track of the domain and make sure everything is like chill and stable and stuff.

Lives in: I live in the Skybox/Void.

Languages: I can speak any language basically. I mean I’m literally a computer I can just google translate everything it ain’t that hard-

Height: 6ft!!

Accent: Otherwordly, No Discernible Origin.

Voice Claim: Amethyst from Steven Universe.

Spirit Level: Acceptance baby.

Powers: I have the same powers as Daisy. I just tend to focus on like reality bending stuff, wind and sky stuff, prophecy is a big one, yknow that kinda thing.

Weaknesses: I have the same weaknesses as Daisy.

Strings Form: Myyy strings are white cause we gotta MATCH obviously.

Soul: Mycena Lazulina!!

Weapons: Windforce Sword!!!

Alignment: I am chaotic neutral.

Text Color: Blueee!

Main Animal: Ravens!

Main Hobbies: I don’t really have time for hobbies with all the work I gotta do.

Favorite Food: Apples. I don’t really eat so.. not much else..

Favorite Flower: Lily of the Valleys!!! They’re pretty. Also they’re the fancy flowers you get in animal crossing.

Scent: Blueberries.

Handedness: Ambidextrous.

Blood Color: Good luck stabbing me to find out. It’s probably red though.

Awareness: Oh I am very aware.

Birthday: Same as Daisy, December 20th.

Theme:

Battle Theme:

Playlist:

Fun Facts: She knows all, She sees all, She speaks all.

Special Interests: Greek Mythology, Philosophy, History!!

Stims: Playing with clouds, flying around, spinning!!

Stimboard: [???]

Moodboard: [???]

Fashion Board: [???]

Comfort Objects: Im not a child. I don’t have any.

Here’s the part you really want to know yeah? WHAT ARE EVRENS OPINIONS ON YOU PEOPLE.

Family:

Cosmo. I feel absolutely no feelings towards this man I think he is stupid and he calls me little raven which IS RUDE. (0%)

Kriston. …he’s my dad… can we STOP TALKING ABOUT IT NOW. (100%)

The Cranes. They all seem like decent people. I haven’t met most of them.. but they keep Daisy safe and protected.. and that’s all that matters to me. (100%)

Jessa. SHE MIGHT BE MY MOM I DONT KNOW WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME SO MANY QUESTIONS GOD. (100%)

Ebro4. I go back and forth on him. I think he is a good man but he often gets.. blinded by more than his blindfold.. (30%g

Zailyn. I respect her a lot. She has done a lot of good for Daisy and protects her well. I can’t really complain about her really. (50%)

Friends:

Grat. I like Grat!! He’s a very silly demon. I have fun playing with him. :) (50%)

Zan. Zan is neat, I find her to be pretty funny. (50%)

Alice. Alice is funny, me and her often play together. She loves flying on my clouds with me. (50%)

Star. Star is neat!! I really enjoy them.. They are kinda like my personal hype squad. (50%)

Mouse. I respect her. I haven’t really interacted with her much directly due to our paths never really aligning. (50%)

Sleuth. Clockhead is funny. I like that.. he takes care of us though.. he- doesn’t have to do that.. (90%)

Romance: Aculia. Her system included in this of course. I.. really.. love her.. I- trust her wholeheartedly.. I would die for her.. (100%)

Therapist: Jonah Francois. Jonah is alright. I have no issues with him, I just am a little bit antsy when I have to bear my neck for someone.. (80%)

Enemies: Enemies is a bit of a strong word. This is more “people I disagree with on a fundamental level spiritually and emotionally”

Camilla. Okay maybe I have one enemy fuck this bitch I hope she dies in a fire. (0%)

Radio. I cannot forgive him for what he has done to Daisy. I fundamentally disagree with everything he stands for. Chaos above all else is meaningless. (0%)

Venus. If he truly thinks he can contain and control me then he is more of an idiot than I thought. (0%)

Emily. I understand why she did it, but I don’t know if I can forgive her for it. (0%)

Brief Personality: [wip]

Brief Backstory: [wip]

[cawslew]

bsd anon bonus: i know atsushi is an easy contrast because they're foils but i think i also like contrasting akutagawa against dazai and chuuya. because (while it still was wrong and dazai absolutely took advantage of akutagawa's mental state to recruit him despite giving him a 'choice') akutagawa picked following dazai into the mafia rather than take a secure life with his sister and a place to bury his friends. i think, and this is just my fanon clouding my perception honestly, that he also indirectly followed dazai's train of thought in joining the port mafia: that somewhere in the deepest darkest pit of hell, he will uncover the meaning behind life. and contrasting him with chuuya (who honestly, i don't know that well so i'm doing this especially off vibes), rather viewing his strength as something dehumanizing, he views his weakness as something dehumanizing, which is why he funnels so hard into developing his strength and picking up "feats of glory" after failing to protect his people. he needs to feel there is some meaning to what he's developed because its all he has (which is made worse by the fact that he fell into the mafia). if he was strong enough, then he wouldn't be forced to suffer this injustice, but rather than try to fight against the systems that forced him into this role, he kind of ends up playing into it? not to say that he's inherently evil because he's as complex as everyone is in bsd, but, rather than being subjugated, he will become the subjugator. i think it also kind of factors into why he acts like a "rabid dog". because i think akutagawa's lack of proper tethers and disregard for life, his own and those he views as "weak", is why he constantly clashes with dazai and fails to get dazai's approval no matter what he does during their time in the port mafia. because he can be smart and thoughtful when he isn't concerned with proving himself to be more than a "weak boy from the slums" but he stops thinking when he feels his strength and fragile sense of worth is being attacked. i kind of wish they went a little more into why higuchi respects him so much (sometimes it really does feel like she's solely fueled by a crush but a simple crush is not enough to survive the port mafia) because, while he does not rely on any subordinates (does he view them as weak and not worthy of respect or is this so he doesn't fail to protect?) but he does extend some level of consideration for them. otherwise, there is no point to teach higuchi how to stand for herself in the port mafia (which is what i assume endears her to him in the first place). sorry for the yap fest. i just really wanted a place to vent out my thoughts and unfortunately, lmao, i chose your inbox u_u

OKKK, it took me some time to answer but I finally got to it haha...

Pulling a contrast between Akutagawa and both Dazai and Chuuya is definitely interesting. Most people focus more on his foil relationship with Atsushi rather than comparing him to the Skk, but it does allow for more nuance and understanding of his motivations overall.

If we follow the idea that Akutagawa follows Dazai’s train of thought in seeking meaning through suffering, it aligns with how the story portrays his obsession with proving himself. HOWEVER, I think we should look into whether he consciously follows this ideology or if it’s more of a subconscious absorption of Dazai’s influence overall.

Also his own fear of weakness as dehumanizing is actually well supported! It explains why he throws himself so fully into strength and recognition.

But to push back a little... Did Akutagawa really have a "secure life" waiting for him with Gin? The assumption that he actively chose the Port Mafia over a stable life with Gin might be a bit of an oversimplification of the overall situation they found themselves in. It's unclear how realistic a peaceful life was for him, after all he was a starving orphan in a lawless environment. Gin was also just a child so how much security could she have realistically offered? Unlike Dazai who had multiple paths he could have taken, Akutagawa might have seen the mafia as the only way forward...

There's also Dazai’s philosophy and how it somewhat mirrors Akutagawa’s own. Dazai joined the mafia to test the limits of human nature and prove to himself that life had meaning, instead it did the opposite, he found life meaningless. But Akutagawa does seek meaning, just in strength. He doesn’t necessarily question the existential. Instead his struggle seems to be more about escaping meaninglessness rather than embracing it. While Dazai outright rejects the inherent value in anything, Akutagawa desperately wants there to be value in power. It's a subtle difference that could also explain why Dazai was so frustrated with him. Overall I think one way or another it's a solid take.

I love the argument that Akutagawa "plays into the system rather than fights against it," and I do actually somewhat agree with it! Like, truth be told it's a very plausible thing to say, but it did make me think about another possibility (that I don’t think necessarily excludes your take either). That Akutagawa might be so accepting of the system because he sees no viable way out. His brutal approach to strength could be less of an ideological commitment and more of a survival instinct reinforced by trauma (you don’t live in the mafia, you survive the mafia). If anything I think Akutagawa is one of the characters most trapped by his past rather than consciously choosing to perpetuate the cycle of violence.

AND HIGUCHI MY SHAYLA! I love that you brought her up, she doesn’t get enough recognition, and you raise an actually great point about her. If her devotion were only romantic she wouldn’t have survived in the mafia. It’s likely that she sees something in Akutagawa beyond his cruelty. Maybe she recognizes that despite his ruthlessness he does have a core belief in personal responsibility and self-improvement (maybe she sees the kindness that Akutagawa embodies. Which I could talk a little bit about but I am in full belief that at his core Akutagawa is kind but needs to be selfish for survival...).

His lessons to her like forcing her to stand on her own could suggest that while he has no tolerance for weakness he does respect those who strive! This also would explain why he teaches rather than outright discards her at times (since he tends to explain stuff but maybe he’s just a yapper, as he himself stated, he doesn’t introduce himself as a mute haha).

Sorry that I did not talk much about Chuuya, but I don't feel like my guy is my strong forthee with understanding him to a point of bringing such comparisons.

[magixfairyix]

Trix Week Day 2 (Studying at Cloud Tower)

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@trixweek @bellatrixobsessed1

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Mild tw: Vomiting to get poison out

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Icy was hardly the academic most of her peers at Cloud Tower thought she was. That was Darcy’s role. Hell, even Stormy has more motivation for assignments if it aligns with her interest in magic theory and bending the laws of it. 

She was passing classes with flying colors because, one, she learned a lot of this information on her own accord way more in depth than the faculty could ever hope to teach, and two she knew more than any of them. Therefore, studying was a fool's game when she already knew what she had to learn.

Icy was walking through the west hallways of Cloud Tower—miraculously not with her sisters, and if Icy remembered correctly, Darcy was staying behind in class for a brief moment while Stormy was elsewhere—to get back to the dorm. There was a test tomorrow, but that wasn’t her priority.

Her priority was both sleep, and—

Icy paused as she turned around a corner, seeing familiar brown hair barely out of the entrance to the washrooms of this tower. She’d recognize that hair anywhere.

She walked around to see that the washroom door was open, and that Darcy was standing in the entrance—Stormy was also sitting on the sinks, her eyes looking at two people in one of the stall’s in concern.

“What even is this?” Icy questioned, leaning back against the wall next to Darcy.

“I walked in here with Stormy after I got away from Zarathustra, and then Mirta and Lucy rushed in,” Darcy said, shrugging, but from her expression Icy could tell she was both mildly worried and evidently pissed off. “A potion incident or something.”

Icy heard the sounds of Mirta comforting Lucy, and the latter very clearly retching in one of the stalls. They hadn’t even bothered to fully close the door, but then again, the only people in the place besides the two of them were Icy and her sisters.

“From her own idiotic mistakes?” Icy asked, raising a brow.

If Lucy was because of this because she made a stupid mistake, then Icy had no sympathy. It was Cloud Tower for crying out loud. You either knew what you were doing, or you didn’t. If you didn’t know what you were doing magic-wise or presence-wise, then you’d be eaten alive.

Darcy gave her a half glare, which made Icy think there was slightly more to this. If Lucy had just been an idiot, then her sisters would be sharing her amusement.

“Some—” Mirta answered from inside the stall—although Icy couldn’t see either her, or Lucy from her view—with her voice unusually angry and venom-filled. “Some bitch snuck some sort of magic-eradicating potion in her water!”

“It—” Lucy started weakly, but trying to keep her voice steady, as she seemingly retched again. “They knew we had a test next week.”

“And so…” Stormy started, clearly bored with this explanation, one of her legs pulled up into the sinks. “Lucy’s trying to get it out of her system.”

Icy felt her eyes narrow into a slight glare. Not towards Stormy, or Lucy, but at the thought of someone being so cowardly and fragile that they’d be willing to spell someone into flunking a test. Whoever did so should’ve actually tried to work on improving their likely shitty excuse for magic skills instead of sabotaging the competition.

“And this witch’s name would be?” Icy questioned bluntly.

“W-what?” Lucy asked, clearly confused.

“A name, Lucy,” Icy repeated.

Would she normally go as far as to wonder who was behind this? No. Lucy was hardly adept in magic and Icy wouldn’t normally bother with her or Mirta for that matter, but Lucy—unlike a large percentage of the witches at Cloud Tower—wasn’t a coward who would stab someone in the back instead of looking them right in the face.

Icy hated admitting this, but even Mirta the wannabe was less cowardly than some of the students.

“Shirly, I think…” Mirta said, and at Lucy’s nod, she stood up and walked halfway out of the stall. “Yeah, it was Shirly. But why—”

Stormy had already swung herself off the sinks’ counter before Mirta had finished, and she glanced at Icy and Darcy with something of a smirk. Icy saw the glint in her eyes, and she mirrored her sister’s expression.

“No no no, you don’t worry about it,” Stormy said to Mirta with a smile, but Icy could see how the freshmen witch was clearly a bit concerned. “She’ll be taken care of, yada yada, revenge and all.”

Mirta looked between Lucy and Stormy, then at Icy, and then at Darcy. “Please don’t do anything too… well, too serious.”

Icy buried a snort at Mirta’s assumption that Darcy would be the rational one in this case. Normally, she was. Stormy was known to be a bit more hot headed than the other two, and Icy was assumed to be the most cold and merciless in most instances. 

Though when sneakiness leads to actual harm to magic or becomes simply underhandedness, Icy knows Darcy finds it an insult of sorts. An insult to witches, and an insult to those who are adept in the art of deception and such; sneaking a potion was pathetic when it was over something as childish as a test.

“No promises,” Darcy answered, giving Mirta a look that made it clear there’d be no negotiations.

Darcy turned and walked out of the washrooms, Icy and Stormy following after the latter gave a pair of thumbs up to Mirta and Lucy. Icy could practically feel Stormy’s buzzing energy behind her, and she felt herself smirk slightly to herself.

Shirly…

Yes, Icy knew her.

[tarothouselattier]

Hi! I wanted to do a light-hearted fun reading, so I present to you the:

What you might enjoy doing for ✨fun✨ PAC

You might know the answer to that already, but if you’re as detached from yourself as I am sometimes *Cap moon shit💅*, then this is for you:

❗️images were taken and are owned by me❗️

If you’re not sure how to choose a pile, what I like to do is observe image, close my eyes and while taking a few deep breaths I repeat the question in my mind and ask spirit to guide me to my pile. After I open my eyes I observe the piles again and one or more usually stands out to me. It just buzzes with energy. I just can’t tear my gaze away. No matter what, I come back to that pile.

If this is not your way of doing things, I asked my spirit guides to help me choose a photo that correlates specifically with you and your energy. Even the text “Pile” I chose for you based on your energy. So, feel free to just choose what you like.

I HOPE I DIDN’T BOAR YOU YET.

If not,

HERE’S YOUR READING, HONEY. I hope you enjoy 😉

PILE 1 🐘

I haven’t drawn cards yet, so can’t say this 100% for sure, but in my mind I saw skis. Water-skis. So, heh, maybe you could try that.

Pile 1, I feel like you have been stuck in a rut. You need to move your body. shake up your whole day, get creative.  it’s like you’ve been committing to only feeling a certain way and not exploring your options.  fun is fun, but if it doesn’t come your way easily the way that you would hope it to, you realise you just need to commit to having fun and this might sound counter-productive: get serious about having fun, get serious about it.

the Way, you are committing yourself to feeling miserable, commit yourself to having fun. Is that take care of yourself, give that nourishing Empress energy to your body and to your soul.

your energy is scattered. You might get excited easily so much so that you just don’t know what to commit yourself to. You need to ground your energy in something that you would really love to do in the moment and then simply do it. And after that you can see if you would like to do the other things that you considered.

Commit to joy, commit to celebrating, to being unserious 😝

Activities:  you could like filming TikTok‘s to silly sounds. It matches your energy perfectly. I heard the sound of “tied together with a pink ribbon”.

you could try a game of charades. You might be good at that.

Hide and seek.

BEACH DAY. Truly. Play with a ball. Water slides and all that good stuff.

Activities you liked as a child.

Have a celebration. HAVE A PARTY.

Very childlike excited energy overall. Take me to the beach with you😎

Pile 2 🌻

you are tired.

You are fighting a battle. But not with outside forces. The battle is within.

Fun is not even something you can focus on right now, as your mind has succumbed to fear. Your judgment is clouded with self-doubt. You are lacking the self-confidence that you naturally need to live a relaxed and lavish life.

You might be fighting battles in your head that a long over in real life. They are weighing you down. You might be ruminating on how you could’ve done things differently.

This can mean that you have forgotten all about your passions and the kind of joy, happiness, and fulfillment that came with doing what you love.

ADVICE

Be your own justice system.

Decide what is true for you and what is not.

Spirit is telling you to dive deep into your emotional world. That is your sanctuary. you cannot see a path for yourself to move forward right now, but you need to clean it. You need to shed all of the things that don’t serve you don’t align with the happiness enjoy you want to actually have in your life and you need to let them go. No matter what, no matter what your logic says, you need to let go of everything that you do not enjoy.

I hope you find your joy and peace within, I truly do, pile 2. Sending you love and strength ❤️❤️🔥



Pile 3 💃

You wanna be that girl😉

my first impressions of this reading you just want to balance the scales of life with yourself. Life lacks YOU. and I feel like you need to socialise to have fun. That’s my first thought also birds might be significant because when I said down to do your reading I saw like a single bird on a wire  and also two figures on the two of cups card looks like they have wings I was like oh my God, maybe you should try flying for fun sometime I don’t know grab a parachute and be like “bye-bye😝”

Listen to the song “I wanna dance with somebody”  because that is the vibe that came to me from your cards.

 it’s like you want to share your life with other people and rejoice. You want to be part of the big picture. You do it for fun. You want to be part of the collective that maybe parties, socialises. you just want to show yourself to this world, but most of all you just want to be a bad bitch. You want to be part of this world and let me tell you you are. You don’t have to sit there in silence all alone, oh my God I just saw the word STAR, and there’s also beauty near it. You’re a star for sure. for fun if you wanna have fun, you need to go out there and show yourself, step into your power and maybe you listen to I don’t know what that song is called Elsa sings it in Frozen 2. OH. It’s literally called “Show yourself”🗿 see this is what I’m talking about you are powerful and you’re fine and you’re sexy and you just need to balance your life, especially like your emotional world, balance it with your real material life. You don’t have to hide and no you are not a meek, little small mouse or whatever that’s just limitations that you put on yourself that aren’t even there. You wish to be fun, exciting, enjoying life and you are. YOU CAN. You just don’t do it. There’s no limitations you just don’t do it. So just do it.(The nike slogan jumped out). Be out there and envision the bad bitch version that you wanna be, what your life is like. Just envision it and then just go out and do that because it’s the most fun you’ll ever have in life. Being yourself is the most fun you’ll ever have in life, and you don’t even have to like be with others in order to do that.

Just love yourself because it’s good for your health and I don’t know if it’s just me and my insatiable habit to sing everything that I say or you are a singer as well. If so than welcome to the club🥵🥵🥰. Go out to the club sing some song, sing karaoke, sing with your beautiful wonderful actually big heart, you’re a star. Damn I would give anything to watch right now I love you bye❤️

[cloudmail-bah]

Hello! Could I possibly get a subsystem??? You said you were open to trying them so...

Specifically, one of Layla and "Other Layla" from Genshin Impact, I believe there's sufficient info here-- https://genshin-impact.fandom.com/wiki/Layla/Lore

She is so plural in my mind

Have fun with it lol. Or don't, idk. You don't have to do this rq if you don't want to.

:3

- @bluestar-bah

of course!! i hope this works, i did my best!! ^w^

edit: OOPS i sent it earlier than I meant to >~< !! sorry sorry /gen

☁️ Requested Order 📬 Sleepy Subsys !!

💌 subsystem & headmates may not turn out exactly as below! that's perfectly fine, pick and choose what works💕

Subsystem Name: Light Collective, Sleep Cycle Subsystem, Day and Night System

Collectives !!

Name: Lite, Lights, Eclipse

Pronouns: they/them, sun/suns, moon/moons, star/stars, sunshine/sunshines, moonshine/moonshines, pages/pages, ☁️/☁️, 🌙/🌙s, 🌤️/🌤️s

Genders / Orientations: Fem-aligned non-binary, Somnucomfic, Lunasoleilian / queer

Likes: sleeping, working, eating, watching movies, fanfiction / writing, cloud watching, sunshine, shooting stars, writing love letters, music, stuffed animals

Dislikes: being tired, being behind on work, scary / horror movies, authority figures, being rushed

Members (emojis and names lead individual members):

- 💤 Daylight 🌤️

- 📝 Nightlight 🌙

[bardic-tales]

Diversity in Blood and Stardust

Step 10 of the The Leviathan method

The speaking roles and diversity elements align with the key themes of identity, belonging, and connection. The primary focus on Bianca and Sephiroth allows for an in-depth exploration of their dynamic while maintaining cultural and personal diversity in the supporting cast.

Adjustments will include giving more speaking roles to minor characters in Blood and Stardust -- Zack, Cloud, and Tifa and ambient villagers -- to enhance diversity in future scenes.

Point of Diversity 01: Celestial and Demonic Lineages

Characters with Speaking Parts:

Bianca Moore

Asmodeus (Azrakiel)

Description: Bianca's celestial and demonic heritage represents a fundamental aspect of her identity and the world-building in this story. As a product of Seraphine, an archangel, and Azrakiel, a demon lord, her existence challenges the binary perception of good versus evil. Her celestial lineage connects her to divine purposes, while her demonic side brings a raw, destructive power that she struggles to control. These dual aspects reflect the larger theme of coexistence between opposing forces. Asmodeus embodies the pure infernal aspect, representing tyranny and ambition, which contrasts Bianca's struggle for self-determination.

Point of Diversity 02: Human and Non-Human Species

Characters with Speaking Parts:

Sephiroth (Jenova-infused human)

Bianca Moore (human vessel for celestial/demonic powers)

Zack Fair (human)

Description: The world of Final Fantasy VII highlights interactions between humans, genetically modified beings (like Sephiroth), and Fantasy Worlds Collide features celestial/demonic hybrids (Bianca). This mix allows for exploration of themes such as identity, prejudice, and belonging. Sephiroth’s Jenova cells make him a bridge between human and alien, paralleling Bianca’s duality. Zack’s fully human perspective offers a grounded counterpoint to the complexity of these otherworldly figures. The interplay between these characters reveals varying degrees of humanity and power struggles within diverse biological backgrounds.

Point of Diversity 03: Social and Economic Classes

Characters with Speaking Parts:

Sephiroth (elite SOLDIER with privilege and isolation)

Zack Fair (mid-class SOLDIER)

Bianca Moore (nomadic survivor from unstable origins)

Description: Social stratification is a key cultural element in Final Fantasy VII. Sephiroth, though privileged as a high-ranking SOLDIER, suffers emotional isolation due to his upbringing in Shinra’s lab environment. Zack represents the middle-class worker striving to climb the ranks in SOLDIER and Shinra, embodying the aspirations and challenges of ordinary SOLDIERS. Bianca, coming from a background of displacement and instability, serves as a reminder of those left outside traditional societal structures. Their interactions highlight disparities in access to power, support systems, and emotional fulfillment.

Point of Diversity 04: Gender and Power Dynamics

Characters with Speaking Parts:

Bianca Moore (female protagonist with agency and power)

Sephiroth (male figure balancing dominance and vulnerability)

Jenova (feminine-coded influence)

Description: Gender roles are subverted and explored through characters’ interactions. Bianca’s strength and autonomy as a female protagonist challenge traditional gender expectations, as she wields celestial and demonic powers while navigating her vulnerabilities. Sephiroth’s internal conflict reflects the balance between his commanding presence as a SOLDIER leader and his vulnerabilities revealed in his connection with Bianca. Jenova’s feminine-coded manipulation plays on the concept of maternal influence turned sinister, contrasting Bianca’s nurturing yet fierce personality.

Point of Diversity 05: Sexual Orientation and Romantic Bonds

Characters with Speaking Parts:

Bianca Moore (demisexual, romantically connected to Sephiroth)

Sephiroth (pansexual, demiromantic/demisexual, romantically connected to Bianca)

Description: The inclusion of Bianca’s demisexual identity adds nuance to her developing relationship with Sephiroth. Their bond emphasizes emotional connection and mutual understanding over physical attraction, which subverts common romance tropes. This dynamic is further layered with their shared trauma and the mystical Red Thread of Fate, which forces a deeper, more spiritual connection. By centering a demisexual perspective, the narrative highlights the importance of trust and emotional intimacy in relationships.

[neotechnomagick]

The Neo-Technomantic Evolution of Symbols: A Living, Disposable Semiotic System

Introduction: The Evolution of Symbols in Neo-Technomagick

Throughout history, magickal systems have relied on established and widely recognized symbols—the pentagram, the ankh, the all-seeing eye—each carrying a specific and often unchanging meaning. These symbols persisted across time, maintaining their potency and relevance within their respective traditions. However, in the era of Neo-Technomagick, the nature of symbols has undergone a fundamental shift.

Unlike the rigid permanence of classical magickal sigils, Neo-Technomantic symbols are ephemeral, adaptive, and disposable—existing only as long as their function demands. They emerge through interaction with the physical, digital, and magickal realms, then dissolve back into the Omniverum, ready to be replaced by newer, more contextually relevant iterations. This fluidity is not a weakness but a feature of the system itself, allowing for real-time adaptation to an ever-changing technological and metaphysical landscape.

Furthermore, this shift reflects the recursive nature of the digital realm, where symbols and concepts that were once rooted in physical reference points have become self-referential. Early digital icons depicted objects from the material world—floppy disks for saving, envelopes for email, speakers for sound. However, as digital forms have evolved, they now reference purely digital phenomena—cloud storage instead of disks, waveforms instead of speakers, and arrows for sending messages instead of envelopes. This recursion suggests an emerging digital ontology—one that mirrors the greater recursion within the Omniverum itself.

This transformation is clearly illustrated in the image provided, which traces the evolution of UI icons from physical representations to purely digital symbols. The transition from objects like floppy disks and envelopes to abstract forms like cloud storage and directional arrows highlights the gradual detachment of digital semiotics from physical constraints. This same principle applies to the evolution of magickal symbols within Neo-Technomagick.

This essay explores the living nature of Neo-Technomantic symbols, their relationship with the Omniverum, and how they function as both tools and artifacts of digital-magickal reality.

I. From Permanent to Disposable: The Shifting Semiotics of Magickal Symbols

Traditional magickal symbols derive power from cultural continuity and historical weight. Their effectiveness is reinforced through centuries of repeated use and collective belief. However, many magicians hold the perspective that these symbols possess innate power, independent of cultural or historical context. They are seen as sacred in some fundamental way, either due to their geometric resonance, their energetic imprint within the collective unconscious, or their alignment with deeper, esoteric structures of reality.

This presents an apparent paradox: If some symbols contain inherent power, how do we reconcile this with the Neo-Technomantic view that symbols are fluid, adaptable, and disposable? Are we asserting that traditional magickal perspectives are incorrect, and that symbols only carry the power imbued by belief and intent? Or must we acknowledge that some symbols, through their very structure, hold a kind of permanence within the Omniverum?

A resolution emerges when we consider that both perspectives may be true simultaneously within the Omniverum. The Omniverum encompasses all possibilities—if a symbol can hold innate power, then such symbols must exist. But equally, if symbols can be disposable and purely contextual, then this too must be true. The contradiction dissolves when we recognize that symbols do not all belong to a singular category; rather, they exist on a spectrum of persistence and resonance.

Some symbols emerge naturally as archetypal resonances, woven into the very fabric of the Omniverum. These may include the pentagram, the spiral, and other geometric constructs that align with universal energetic patterns.

Others derive their power solely from cultural conditioning and belief systems, making them potent within specific traditions but meaningless outside of those contexts.

Still others are purely utilitarian constructs, arising in response to specific needs and then dissolving once their function is complete—such as the evolving symbols of the digital realm.

Thus, Neo-Technomagick does not reject the existence of permanent symbols—rather, it acknowledges that symbols operate across a continuum of existence, with some acting as momentary stabilizations of probability and others forming deeper, archetypal structures that resonate across time and space.

II. The Relationship Between Neo-Technomantic Symbols and the Omniverum

If the Omniverum is the totality of all that can, has, or might exist, then symbols are the artifacts of interaction with its infinite structure. Symbols do not emerge from nothing; rather, they are momentary stabilizations of probability, condensed into a communicable form.

Each symbol generated in Neo-Technomagick exists as long as its function demands—once it has fulfilled its role, it dissolves back into the Omniverum as a collapsed probability. Unlike traditional sigils, which are often preserved, reused, and passed down through generations, Neo-Technomantic sigils are disposable artifacts of probability collapse.

Generation: Symbols emerge from engagement with reality, discovered rather than invented.

Application: They function as energetic or conceptual tools, guiding probability shifts.

Release: Once their work is done, they return to the Omniverum, where their presence remains as a completed possibility rather than an active force.

Thus, symbols are not static representations of eternal truths but living expressions of magickal interaction with an ever-evolving reality.

III. The Lifecycle of a Neo-Technomantic Symbol

To better understand how Neo-Technomantic symbols function, we can break their lifecycle down into four primary phases:

Emergence (Discovery of Form)

A symbol is generated, not created—discovered through interaction with digital, magickal, and physical forces.

This phase may involve subconscious ideation, AI synthesis, intuitive glyph creation, or technological augmentation.

Activation (Alignment with Intent)

The symbol is charged with intent, aligning with a specific function.

This could occur through ritual activation, digital encryption, or linguistic embedding.

Execution (Probability Collapse)

The symbol is deployed, acting as a localized mechanism for collapsing probability into reality.

This could involve integration into an algorithm, a performed ritual, or embedding within a digital system.

Dissolution (Release into the Omniverum)

The symbol is no longer needed and is discarded, its presence returning to the Omniverum as a collapsed state.

This ensures that only relevant, potent symbols remain active, preventing stagnation.

This approach ensures that Neo-Technomantic symbols remain fluid, responsive, and aligned with real-time shifts in consciousness and technology.

IV. The Future of Neo-Technomantic Symbolism

The recognition that symbols exist on a spectrum of persistence and resonance allows for an evolving approach to their use. Some symbols may persist across generations, while others arise in specific contexts only to fade once their purpose is fulfilled. The recursive nature of digital semiotics and magickal practice suggests that:

Technomantic practitioners will continue to develop and iterate on symbols, incorporating advances in digital systems, artificial intelligence, and quantum mechanics into their practice.

Symbolic languages will become more integrated with machine intelligence, potentially leading to real-time dynamic sigil crafting and interaction with self-adapting magickal constructs.

The Omniverum itself may influence the emergence of new symbols, as magicians engage with deeper levels of probability collapse and archetypal resonance.

In this way, Neo-Technomagick remains a continuously evolving system, ensuring that its symbols, practices, and methods remain relevant in an increasingly complex and accelerating world.

Conclusion: A Living Language of Magick

Neo-Technomagick recognizes that while some symbols may hold archetypal resonance and persist across time, the system itself favors a living, ever-shifting semiotic structure that allows for adaptation and contextual evolution.  Symbols are no longer immutable relics but disposable tools, generated for a purpose and discarded once their function is complete. This reflects the accelerating interplay between technology, consciousness, and magick—where symbols are not merely representations of meaning but active participants in the restructuring of reality.

By understanding symbols as momentary stabilizations of probability, we step away from the constraints of permanence and into a fluid, dynamic engagement with the Omniverum itself. This allows Neo-Technomagick to remain infinitely adaptable, self-optimizing, and aligned with the evolutionary momentum of reality.

In the digital age, magick must move beyond static tradition into a world where symbols are generated, executed, and released as naturally as thought itself. This is the magick of the future—a living language of power, evolving in real-time.

G/E/M (2025)

[roastbeasts]

YEAR OF THE DRAGON | issue 1: rehab is now available for download! this one's about rehab. physical copies being sold soon (hopefully)!

script & img ids under the cut as usual. enjoy!

COVER

img id: a digital drawing of an orange cartoon bipedal dragon with comically small wings in the pose of a heraldic griffon. vertically aligned orange text reads "year of the dragon" and maroon text next to it reads "issue 1: rehab". everything is against a yellow background. end id

PAGE 2

img id: a digital drawing of the same dragon laying on the floor, arms outstretched. arrows are sticking out of its neck and back. there is an x-shaped scar on the dragon's stomach. there is a cloud of smoke coming from its nostrils. above the dragon, there is text that reads "rehab taught me that the outside world was not a kind place". everything is against a yellow background. end id

PAGE 3

img id: a digital drawing of the same dragon standing in a room, surrounded by couches and a television. the couches and television are maroon. above and below the scene there is orange text, which reads "everything was exactly where it should be in my little bubble - the abuse, the instability, the anxiety". everything is against a yellow background. end id

PAGE 4

img id: a digital drawing of the same dragon running with a nervous expression. surrounding the dragon are people of various heights running in the same direction. they are maroon and have no expression on their face. above the scene there is orange text, which reads "i was taught to know my place, and to firmly remain there. things would never get better unless i did exactly as i was told". everything is against a yellow background. end id

PAGE 5

img id: a digital drawing of the same dragon holding a suitcase in one hand and a large, body pillow-sized skink plush in the other. the skink's body and the suitcase are both maroon. there is text with arrows attributed to each item the dragon is holding, which read "didn't actually own luggage, i used trash bags lol" in reference to the luggage and "skink plush" in reference to the skink plush. above and below the scene is orange text that reads "through a series of insane coincidences (and a whole lot of fighting for it), i left rehab". everything is against a yellow background. end id

PAGE 6

img id: a digital drawing of left-aligned text that reads "i often have nightmares about the places where i rotted for the past 4 years of my life. my entire being existed within the confines of a system that told me i was broken. that i was too sick to function anywhere else". everything is against a yellow background. end id

PAGE 7

img id: a digital drawing of the same dragon holding hands with another version of itself. the dragon to the left is smaller and has the same arrows and stomach scar from page 2. it is crying. the dragon on the right is notably larger and without injuries. it has a sad smile on its face. there is orange text above the scene that reads "'things will get better.' these words are what kept me alive all those years ago. i wish that i could tell my 18-year old self that it was true". everything is against a yellow background. end id

BACK

img id: a digital drawing of center-aligned orange text that reads "@R0ASTBEAST". below it is a colorless drawing of the same dragon sitting with its eyes closed and a smile on its face. everything is against a yellow background. end id