#He can't even save her mortal remains never mind her life

[backjustforberena]

I don't think telling Corlys that Rhaenys died with honour, and how she might have wanted to (if she, in fact, did want to die in dragon flame especially as she thinks both her kids died by fire) means an actual jot to Corlys.

All he probably thinks is about how Rhaenys SHOULD have died. And she should have died at home. She should have died at peace, in peace. She should have died decades from now, with a smile on her face and no troubles. And, most importantly, she should have died after him.

[kastalani123]

The Riordanverse is, ultimately, a children's series so it's expected that the nitty-gritty, darker details of certain things get omitted. Still, I think it'd be interesting to see the demigods, each raised for slaughter in their own way, be the soldiers, the victims, the prey that they grew up to be for both godly and mortal reasons.

Percy always keeps Riptide in arm's reach, always keeps his fingers curled around it, ready to unsheath it every waking moment. He sits and stands with his back flush against walls, eyes and ears always open to seek the slightest hint of danger. He trusts Paul, he trusts Chiron — he still watches every minute shift of their expression, of their body for warning signs. He keeps outside Dionysus's range, ensures he always has an open exit within reach. The smell of alcohol makes him dizzy, nauseous; his thoughts leave his body sometimes, when it gets bad enough.

Annabeth keeps a packed bag at the bottom of her closet when she stays at her family's home; she has places she can stay and her parents and Chiron have been good, but her feet still itch when they frown a time too many. Nobody knows she still sees spiders sometimes, feels her skin itch with their crawling. She makes Percy swear he'll never leave the room before she wakes up unless it's truly necessary. She puts boards on her bed's edges so she'll never fall while she thrashes from nightmares; falling would only make it worse.

Leo sits far from any open fires and leaves if people start roasting meat; Plan C is used sparingly once he isn't constantly fighting for his life. His tool belt can't make food, but it stores more granola bars than he could ever carry without it. He makes himself near-unnoticeable earplugs after New Year's and he avoids looking at himself; his body is too whole for being blown to pieces and half the time he's sure the chunks are rotting around Camp Half-Blood where they should've fallen. He tries to keep from unnecessary interactions; he can't have things tying him to some place, not when he's mapped out dozens of escape plans. He smiles longer and wider than ever before.

Hazel doesn't wear jewelry; the only exception is a wooden bead bracelet Nico gave her after she rejected a golden necklace. Walls close in around her, dust and liquid clog her throat, stones crush her bones– she comes back to the present. She clings to affection like a drowning man to a piece of wood, but keeps watch for signs that it'll turn against her. Silence haunts her every step; she keeps an MP3 player and headphones with her at all times to drive it away.

Frank gathers up his form and pours it into a mould of himself, does what he can to keep it from spilling through the cracks. His fingers are littered with scars and scratches, with a trail of broken mirrors left behind in their wake. There are always voices arguing in the back of his mind — not his father's, but not his own, either; just a phantom screech pulsing through his head. He drowns them by sinking into new responsibilities, new dangers, shaping himself to fit while trying to remain himself. The crackle of burning wood follows him everywhere he goes and he can do nothing to down it out — only stare at whatever he had managed to save from his suicide to remind himself he does not need to worry about it; he has already crumbled into ash.

Piper dives into Oklahoma, into mortality, like she'll suffocate without it. She remains far from everything, though not far enough to be out of the loop, because she needs to know about every prophecy, every end of the world, every step and challenge her friends face. She calls them on a bronze-infused phone, not a rainbow, even if the camera and the notifications and the everythingness of it blind her like a spotlight and the thrum of electricity runs through her veins like venom. She paints her face a bit misshapen here, a bit discolored there, a bit unsettling everywhere, and Shel understands. She understands and she loves her and she says it's beautiful not in aesthetics but in the potential protection it provides, as Piper intended.

Jason had learned every rule with the mere intention to break it, to tear through the chains of military life that had been clamped around his throat for as long as he could remember. He had chased life, rather than the survival he had clung to for so long — packed every second of his ticking down time with it. Finally with freedom, but so little time with it, he snatched every piece of it he could: a mortal highschool, a movie theatre, a mall shopping spree, a room of his own — all carefully documented in stacks of journals, ever breath of air and glimpse of the sun, with copies upon copies stashed away so that his memories could never again slip away like sand between his fingers, so that his friends had something of him left, after his life of nothingness.

[fawnindawn]

for a moment, can i hold you? (luke castellan x fem! apollo reader)

series masterlist - everything in between (every part can be read as a stand-alone!)

summary: After your return from a failed quest, Luke is intense with his attention and anything but his usual self as he looks after you and your healing injuries, and you come to realise your absence has changed him drastically. When he asks you to make a promise, you don’t realise just how much he is asking for.

content: luke is overprotective and clingy, caretaker luke, soft luke, pining, paranoid luke, kronos tries to manipulate luke, hint of manipulative! luke, fluff, kissing

a/n: this chapter was redone so many times but at long last. the delicate sprinkle of kronos slowly pulling the strings in luke's mind because he can't bare to lose the only person he can't live without was an enjoyable process to write.

pairing: luke castellan x fem! apollo reader

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His hands traced over the outline of the scars on your back, unbeknownst to you as you laid asleep beside him, wrapped in his blanket from your hips downward. Your face was serene, and he felt his heartbeat calm down watching you breath in and out, painless and at peace.

Kronos was growing more invasive every night, something Luke had not expected now that you had returned to camp alive. If anything, your presence had heightened this need in him to protect you and not let you out of his sight, his mind still taunting him endlessly with dark images of your limp body in his arms, your pulse barely beating under his fingers.

Regardless of how much you’ve tried to convince him it wasn't his fault that he wasn't there to stop these scars from happening, that he wasn't there to save you and you had to make the journey back to camp all on your own, he didn't believe it. That he couldn't have done more to protect you.

The titan that crept in his nightmares fed on his fears eagerly, and he would fall asleep to dreams so tangible, vivid recreations of your lifeless face, always being just out of reach of saving you before something gets to you first. He would wake covered in cold sweat and shattered pieces of his heart as his hands immediately goes to find you, heaving a shaky breath at the sight of you still asleep beside him. He pulled you close to his chest, crying silent tears as he repeated to himself that you were safe. Alive and warm. Beating life in your pulse as his fingers wrap around your wrist.

'I can help you save the girl.' The titan had crooned before, watching over Luke in his dreams as he cradled your lifeless body with indescribable mourning, choking on his sobs as he muttered your name, broken and haunted. 'There will be a new world that shall dawn on us, and no half-blood shall face the consequences of their mortality, and you will never have to see her suffer again.'

Luke watched you now, admiring your features as his hands wrapped around your waist, slowly pulling you closer in an effort to not wake you. Pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, he felt his heart thump at the soft crinkle of your nose at his touch but your eyes remained closed, unaware of the adoration that was bestowed on you.

"I'm going to keep you safe." He promised softly, because failing once had already costed him nearly everything and he wasn't going to let anything happen to you again. Even if it meant betraying everything he knew, the belief that he could create a world, one you would live in without having to worry about death constantly at your doorstep was worth everything he was going to sacrifice.

Minutes go by in silence, the most quiet and peaceful it had been for him in weeks. If it wasn't the chaos that came with trying to control a cabin filled to the brim with his siblings or those who were unclaimed, the noise would come from within in his own mind, filled with dark murmurs that stirred his paranoia into a mixture of anger and bitter hate. Now, it was none of that. Only the sound of your breathing, which he had been focusing on as of late whenever he was trying to sleep.

His eyes caught you stir, turning to rest your head deeper into the pillow, and his heart rate quickened watching you blink open your eyes, struggling in your effort not to fall back asleep again. You yawned, opening your eyes to meet his, and he caught the momentary confusion that one always faced when just waking up before your eyes crinkled at the corners as you smiled at him in recognition.

"Hi there." You muttered, and he swore he never loved you more, just watching you exist in the small corner of his cabin he had snuck you into, only because he couldn't bare to sleep without you after you returned half-dead.

If any of his siblings suspected the soft footsteps way past curfew, avoiding stepping on others as the two shuffled their way to his mattress in the dim moonlight, none commented on it in the day where there would be the mysterious tousled sheets and an empty dip beside Luke, even if everyone knows he never uses a blanket.

Luke found it impossible to sleep without you. If he couldn't feel your heartbeat near his, his mind would overthink and before he knew it, a panic attack would be on the edge of his mental state, only soothed once he had you in his sights again, alive and breathing.

"Go back to sleep, sunshine." He whispered, eyes on you as you shuffled around so you could be closer to him, resting on his shoulder and allowing him to inhale the vanilla body shampoo you liked to use. He automatically accustomed to your touch, shifting his shoulder so you could rest more comfortably, his chin resting on top of your head.

"No, I want to stay awake with you." You mumbled, pressed to his side and enjoying his cool skin as compared to the warmth of yours. "Why are you still up?"

He hesitated, unsure of whether to reveal to you about his recent dreams, or of his deal with Kronos. He didn't want to stress you on his dilemmas when you were still on the brink of recovery, even if his heart demanded him to tell the truth. Despite being the son of a god who was known for thievery, equipping his children with the ability to slip lies as easy as breathing, he had never hidden anything from you. Lies and deceit now tasted bitter in his mouth from the frequent use, and he wanted to confide in you and let his guard down for once.

"I've been having nightmares." He spoke, a half-truth he had settled for.

You looked up at him then, noses only a few inches apart, concern visible through your half-lidded gaze. "Again? What was it about?"

You. He wanted to say. Always you. He tried to push the thought away and come up with some flimsy excuse, because he couldn't tell you that. Not without making you feel guilt over something you had no control over. If anything, your father was to blame. Had he not sent you on a useless quest that put you in high risks of being exposed to creatures out to kill half-bloods, you wouldn't have been put in such a life-threatening situation. He had almost lost you.

Some days, that simple thought was enough to make him go mad.

He tried to quiet down the anger that threatened to arise, focusing on you instead as his hand went to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear, eyes flicking over your features. "Don't worry, sunshine. It's nothing I can't get over by the morning."

Lies, a nasty habit of his. He knew you could sense it too with the way you frowned at his response. Your fierce eyes met his own hesitant gaze, and it was like you could see right through him. Then again, you always could.

"It was about me, wasn't it?" You asked, hitting right on the spot of his worries.

He remained silent, and upon realising you were waiting for his confirmation, he sighed. "Sometimes I wish you wouldn't know me so well."

"Then I wouldn't be your other half, would I?" You responded with a solemn smile. "What happened?"

His mind flashed back to the gory images of his self-made torture in subconscious. "I never get to save you." He started explaining. "I'd always be too late, or I wouldn't be able to find you but I would hear your voice screaming for me. I'd go crazy trying to get to you but every time I finally reach you, it's too-"

He cut himself off, feeling the corner of his eyes burning as he tried to swallow past the uncomfortable feeling in his throat. He blinked back his tears, and he tried to avoid your gaze. "I'm afraid it'll come true." He muttered. "That something will happen to you again and despite everything I try to do, it won't be enough."

"Luke." You tried, but he was already in another world, distant eyes so tortured and guilty you feared he was drowning in his own self-doubt. You pushed yourself up, out of his hold and grabbed ahold of his face, forcing him to face you instead. "I'm not going anywhere."

He stilled at that, but he didn't seem to quite believe it.

"I promised, remember?" You reminded him, your fingers tracing the slight raise of his scar near his cheekbone, trying to get him to come back to you. "I'll be here till we're both nothing but bones and dust, and even then, I'll follow you anywhere you go. To the next life and the next."

"How are you so sure of that?" He asked, weak against your optimism, his own heart struggling to find the belief you seemed to have that everything would turn out alright.

"You think for one second I'd leave you alone in peace?" You scoffed. "You keep thinking I'll leave when you should be worried about the opposite. I'm not dying unless you're doing it with me, co-dependency and all."

He snorted at that, but the darkness in his eyes had not fully risen, his mind still stuck on a certain promise you'd accidentally uttered a few seconds ago, and he wouldn't rest till he figured out just how far you were willing to go in your promises.

He swallowed, trying to find his words as yours repeated in his mind. His hands went to rest on your hips, holding onto you and your gaze so intensely, like he believed you would really disappear if he took his eyes off of you. "You promise you'll follow me anywhere?"

"Yes." You answered with no hesitation and he let out a sigh, akin to relief over something that seemed to have been holding a dark cloud over him the past few weeks since your return.

"You promise." He stated more than asked, begging for a promise you didn't quite understand, not knowing your words had already been etched into a dark corner of his mind that you had no hope of pulling him out from.

Your brows furrowed as you wondered why he was so insistent, but if it meant soothing his worries, you'd do anything. "I promise." You muttered, sealing your fates together till the end of time.

His eyes wandered over your face in lovesick adoration, unsure of how he was so lucky to have met you. "I love you." He declared, and before you could say it back, he leaned in to kiss you, hands slipping under your shirt to rest his cold hands on your hot skin, which always leaned on the warmer side due to your father's influence, and you felt electric shocks at the sudden contrast as he pulled you back into bed, laying you on top of him as he kissed you in fervor.

"I love you." He repeated, tracing his lips down the outline of your jaw, making you shiver in the intensity in which he made his confession.

"I love you too." You finally made out, but it was less clearer than his as you struggled to focus against the heated feeling of his mouth on your neck and his hands on the outstretch of your back, still hidden under the fabric of your shirt.

He chuckled at that, the sound making your cheeks flush at how attractive he could be when he was this intense. "Trust me, sunshine. You don't know how crazy you've made me."

Your mind spun when he went back to trace his lips over your skin before slowly making his way back up to your lips, kissing you slowly and passionately, taking his time in making you squirm for breath. You should've noticed something was unusual in the way he acted, the red flags raised over his choice of wording and in his growing intensity the moment you promised you'd follow him anywhere.

It was Luke, you could trust him with anything. With your life. With your heart. You pushed back those thoughts, and you let yourself fall lost to the feeling of his lips on yours and his curls gripped through the gaps of your fingers.

At some point, you needed air more than the feeling of his lips on yours and you broke the kiss off to breathe, pushing at his chest when he tried to lean in for another kiss with that wicked grin of his.

"That's enough for tonight, pretty boy." You panted, and despite his disappointed pout, he relented and pulled you back into his chest, falling back into the mattress and grabbed for the blanket to lay it over your body so you wouldn't feel cold.

"Goodnight then, sunshine." He whispered affectionately, a particular softness in his tone that he always reserved for you with that adoring nickname he had initially started using to annoy you. Yet, somewhere along the blurry lines of getting to know one another, the mocking stereotype turned into something else entirely. Something more personal, the warmth of familiarity between the two of you.

You settled on his chest, tracing outlines of shapes on his shirt as your mind wandered towards a future of you and Luke, together. You had never really thought too far across the borders of camp, where monsters lingered in wait to devour half-bloods like the two of you. Yet, his words spun a record in you, playing imaginary situations of the two of you in a world where gods and monsters were the least of your worries and you had a normal life instead, with him.

"Wait." You spoke, causing him to stir, looking down at you.

"Yeah?" He murmured to signal he was still awake, waiting for you, always.

"Speaking of dreams.." You continued, hesitating to cross a border neither of you had really discussed on yet. Normal human life had always been taboo, only because the two of you understood the struggles you would have to go through to try and achieve even half the sense of normalcy normal people had. Yet, you couldn't help the curiousity over what Luke would want, if he wasn't a god's son. "If we ever get out of here one day, and hypothetically, we were to live a normal life.. outside of camp. What would yours be?"

He remained silent, and you wondered if you had stepped too far into a pitiful hope many half-bloods had given up on ages ago. Especially for Luke, who was one of the oldest surviving half-bloods in camp, with you not following too far behind.

"It's fine if you don't want to talk about it." You stepped back from the topic, but he shook his head.

"I've never really given it too much thought." He muttered, trying to imagine a life without a sword in his hands, no scar taking up half his face only to come up with a blank. It was all blank. His heart churned with frustration as he realised all the years of running and surviving made his personal advancements, like education and a normal teen life be placed on the backburner. He had no ambitions that could be considered normal for his age, no graduating college or getting a job.

His eyes moved from the wooden boards of the walls back to you, who waited patiently for his response. His thoughts of his own future were a dead-end but when he looked at you.. he could picture something. A dream further ahead in time outside of the confinements of camp. Being at your side while you explored new cities you've never been before, made the future seemed more doable.

He vaguely remembered you mentioning how you've never been to the Big Apple, having grown up in a state too far to see it. He could take you there, experience your awed joy and take it in for himself to keep. If a dream was meant to be something to keep him going, there was no way you wouldn't be in the equation.

Luke rested his palm on the nape of your neck, and placed a kiss on the top of your head. "Anywhere with you, honestly. I'm sure I could come up with a million things to do if we make it that far. And as long as I get to watch you achieve your dreams..."

"That's awfully cheesy of you." You teased, hoping he couldn't feel your heart racing through your ribcage.

"It's not cheesy. I'm being serious." He retorted, cheeks flushing slightly at your teasing.

"You know.. if I didn't meet you in camp, I could picture crossing paths with you in a café or something." You admitted.

"Oh really?"

"Mhm. You would be walking in with some of your friends after playing basketball, and you'd catch my eye." You continued. "I'd probably do something reckless, like ask for your number right off the bat because I would be scared of losing the chance of getting to know you."

"I'd give it to you in a heartbeat." Luke answered, a giddy smile slipping through over the thought of you approaching him so boldly. A counterfeit situation, a daydream only those who were foolish enough would partake in, but he was willing to dream if you wanted to.

"Then, we'd go on our first date around the city, and you'd show me your spots while I'd show you mine. We'd probably spend hours outside because neither of us wanted to leave."

“And then?” He asked, unable to hide the desperation in his tone.

“Then we’ll take it on together.” You muttered with a smile. “Life.”

Luke waited for you to continue, but you yawned halfway through and he huffed in amusement. "Go to sleep, sunshine. Your dreams won't run away anytime soon, I'll make sure of it.”

“Our dreams.” You corrected him.

“Ours.” He repeated.

You nodded, satisfied and muttered a goodnight to him before closing your eyes, following the beat of the heart that belonged to a boy who owned yours, listening to the constant rhythm of life before slowly succumbing to sleep.

Luke traced over the outline of your spine, and his mind ticked over the possibilities of the future. He wasn't wrong, he was going to make sure your dreams would come true. Whatever you wanted, he would help you achieve it.

He could see it, the two of you going on dates like a pair of lovesick teenagers, then growing into adults and living past the well-known lifespan of a half-blood. To grow old, and to watch wrinkles catch in the crinkles of your eyes over a life well lived. He was going to make all that happen, but there was something he needed to do first.. and he could only hope you would forgive him for it.

You could never fathom how this night would change everything, kickstart the course of the next few years that would eventually bring you back to the promises you've made and the haunting of his own devotion.. to you.

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[a-araiguma-a]

He loved only her

No one in particular, just an elf from the universe of J. R. R. Tolkien. Elf x f!reader

In the ancient forests of Middle-earth, where tall trees concealed the sky, there lived an elf. His people were as eternal as the forest itself, and their hearts were rarely clouded by mortal emotions. But one day, he met a woman—a simple, human, mortal woman. There was something about her that made his heart beat faster: her beauty, which could neither be captured by the finest poets nor sung by the greatest musicians, her mind, so unlike that of other humans, filled with thoughts, ideas, and philosophy, or her eyes, in which one could drown if they gazed too long. It was something he could not understand, but this only made his love grow deeper.

"Cormamin lindua ele lle"—he always wanted to tell her that his heart sang at the sight of her, but it was not the right time, not yet. From the moment of their first meeting, he sought her out and waited for her in this forest every day when the sun's rays gently touched the ground, filtering through the thick foliage.

She told him about her world, about the brief lives of humans, about how they lived and died, dreaming and suffering.

"Lle naa vanima,"—he blurted out one day, not even realizing when he had said it: "You are beautiful." "What did you say?"—fortunately, she didn't understand his words, and that saddened him. It was not enough for him to meet her in the evenings; he longed to extend their conversations, to stretch them out for an hour, two, or forever. He listened to her stories, captivated not by the words themselves but by how her voice filled the emptiness in his soul. Without her, he would never have known the need to fill it.

"Tua amin!"—But did he need help? Did he need to be saved from her? Honestly, no, he was ready to drown in her eyes, ready to die if only to meet her once more. He was ready for anything...

But the Elf did not know how to tell her about his feelings. He understood that the time she gave him was limited, and each moment with her was precious. But how could he explain this? How could he tell her that his heart, which had always been eternal and free, now belonged to her? "The more you love someone," he thought, "the harder it is to tell them." "Nin lithiach, Meleth nín"—she truly enchanted him every time he saw her, even in his thoughts. His beloved. "Guren mil gaim lín"—his heart was in her hands—"Tessa sina ten’ amin"—he asked her to keep it, but in truth, she was free to do with it as she wished, as long as it was her.

And she accepted him. She had loved him too, ever since then, but she understood that it would be difficult for him; her life was short, and what would happen afterward, when she left him? She was ready to weep over such a truth. "Amin uuma malia, Arwen en amin"—it didn't concern him. Being with her and having her even for a moment was already enough. The chance to call her his—that was his happiness. His Lady, who ruled his heart and mind.

As the years passed, she began to talk more often about parting, though it pained the elf to hear it, he couldn't disagree. "When the day comes that we part," she said quietly, "if my last words aren't 'Amin mela lle,' you'll know it's because I didn't have time." In those moments, he remained silent, lost in thought, unable to find the words to express that his love knew no bounds of time. "Meleth e-guilen, my love is selfish. I can't breathe without you,"—she was the love of his life. How could she speak of them parting, not seeing her, not inhaling her scent in the mornings, no more afternoon conversations about books, about how Ellen had messed up her work again, no more seeing her smile, or those gentle eyes full of love for him... "Aa’ lasser en he coia orn n' omenta gurtha!"—Let the leaves of her tree of life never wither, he prayed. Just a little longer, he wasn't ready yet, but how could he stretch this time?

But when the fog enveloped the forest, and the cold wind brought with it a premonition of farewell, the elf finally spoke what was in his heart. He took her hand and said: "I was destined to live a thousand years, and I belong only to you for all those years. If we were to live a thousand lives, I would want you to be mine in every one of them." She looked at him, and a tear glistened in her eye. She knew their time was running out, but these were the words she believed in more than anything in the world.

For the elf's love was as eternal as the forest itself, and he continued to love, despite their parting, carrying his feelings for her through the years and ages of his life.

"Cormamin niuve tenna’ ta elea lle au’"—My heart will wait until it sees you again. "Le me ithon anuir"—I will love you forever. "Quel kaima"—Rest well.

[lotusmi]

No Permission Needed

📚PART 13: No Permission Needed

read more of my summaries | full post on reddit

⬸ [go to PART 12 "Personal Reality" ]

How can any of us know we are Operant Power, the Cause of our worlds if we do not test it? Testing it radically I mean. Remember the outer-world is a reflection of what the INNER MAN has, is and does in their own Personal Inner Reality. That is you.

So, if we wish to have radical change, let's radically change the INNER MAN. Give the INNER MAN what they want. That is, radically change your own Personal Inner Reality. Now how do we change? Through FEELING. Read Neville's words here

“Arise! Go down to the potter’s house and there I will let you hear my words. So I went down to the potter’s house and there he was working at his wheel, but the vessel in his hand which he was making of clay was spoiled, so he reworked it into another vessel as it seemed good to the potter to do,” Jere 18:2-4. He didn't discard it! So someone seems beyond repair don't discard it, TEST this power this creative power. There is nothing more wonderful in this world, nothing more creative in man than to believe a thing into existence! I can't conceive anything more wonderful than that." - Neville

He did not discard it! He reworked it into what pleased him. That is you. You are the potter within. Now notice the language Neville uses, "someone beyond repair," don't discard him or her, rework it as it seems good to you!

Test this law on those who seem beyond repair, even if you think that is yourself. That is how we know whether or not this truly works. Neville does not say, "just assume something nice here and there," but instead he says, "DARE to assume." And remember an assumption is a FEELING. So DARE to FEEL what you want. Without doing that, you remain as you are. You want people to give you respect? Then receive it ENTIRELY in Imagination first. Don't wait for someone to come along and do it. Go down to the potter's house and rework the clay. Not matter how far we think we have fallen from grace, don't discard yourself. Go WITHIN, in your own PERSONAL REALITY and change what you would like, to what pleases you.

Now a lady wrote, saying: "This dream disturbs me greatly. In the dream I entered an exquisite jewelry store, [and] picked up many items, among which was a beautiful green gem. Then I left without paying for the articles I took. On this level I would never do such a thing and cannot understand why I would do it there." My dear, you should be thrilled because you did it. On this level you are eating of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, but you are way beyond this tree, for you are now eating of the Tree of Life by fulfilling the 50th Psalm: "If I were hungry I would not tell you for the world is mine and all within it." If everything is yours, whose permission do you need to take it? As an in-current eyewitness, you do not function here save when you open your mortal eyes. In this world of Good and Evil you would never go to Tiffany's and walk out without paying for your purchases, but as the Spirit of truth, you are feasting upon the Tree of Truth and error in the world that is yours. In that world there is no need to ask permission of anyone to take anything you desire. - Neville

"Everyone who thirsts come … he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine, buy milk, without money, without price.” - Isaiah 55:1

"IN THAT WORLD THERE IS NO NEED TO ASK PERMISSION…" What world is Neville speaking of? The Personal Reality within.

THE INNER MAN NEEDS NO PERMISSION! THE INNER MAN DOES NOT CARE WHETHER OR NOT IT IS POSSIBLE! So in your Personal Reality, your Mind, understand you need no permission to FEEL what you want to feel. No permission whether not it is "possible." No permission if you want to feel it deeply all the time. No permission to experience what you want. Identify yourself with the INNER MAN who is FREE to do, feel and be what they want! You can go anywhere you want and take what pleases you. It is ALL YOURS. You can never know this if you identify yourself with the outer-man, the man of limitation. The INNER MAN is infinite and can feel what he wants, whenever he wants!

But if you do not make it radical, from experience there will be little change in your mind. When you identify yourself with the INNER MAN, what you are doing is experiencing the NOW in Imagination. There is no need to wait to experience. And as Neville says, "I may not have a dime but in Imagination I have much!" But don't just apply that to money, apply that to what you WANT. We all have different desires, so find what you want, and experience it in your own Personal Inner Reality.

"My imagination puts me in touch inwardly with that state. I imagine that I am actually where I desire to be. How can I tell that I am there? There is one way to prove that I am there, for what a man sees when he describes his world is, as he describes it, relative to himself. So what the world looks like depends entirely upon where I stand when I make my observation. So, if as I describe my world it is related to that point in space I imagine that I am occupying, then I must be there. I am not there physically, no, but I AM there in my imagination, and MY IMAGINATION IS MY REAL SELF! And where I go in imagination and make it real, there I shall go in the flesh, also. When in that state I fall asleep, it is done. I have never seen it fail. So this is the simple technique upon how to use your imagination to realize your every objective. - Neville

Please pay attention to what Neville says in bold there. That is what I am trying to get across to you. "My imagination is my REAL SELF!" He and I mean that literally. I am not saying that to sound mystical. I am being as serious as I can be and I am not embarrassed by it. The INNER MAN is the REAL YOU. That is the one you need to exalt, and don't be ashamed of exalting him. Don't fear giving yourself exactly what you want in your mind. You do have control over your feelings and you will see this with practicing this art.

Here is a very healthy and productive exercise for the imagination, something that you should do daily: Daily relive the day as you wish you had lived it, revising the scenes to make them conform to your ideals. For instance, suppose today's mail brought disappointing news. Revise the letter. Mentally rewrite it and make it conform to the news you wish you had received. Or, suppose you didn't get the letter you wish you had received. Write yourself the letter and imagine that you received such a letter." - Neville

Your Personal Inner Reality is not bound by the facts of this life. In the Reality Within, you can go back in memory and change what you want. It is YOURS to change! Don't revise to what you "think you should" want but to what pleases you. When Neville is speaking about revision notice how he is telling you to do what you wish you would have like to experienced instead. That is how we revise. We change it to what is loving and pleasing to us. This Mind of yours can provide you a wonderful life or a nightmare, WE ARE THE OPERANT POWER. All the Mind asks is, "What do you want?"

"There are those who are depressed all day long and remain that way all of their life. I remember back in New York City, when I would see certain people walking in my direction I would want to cross the street, because I did not want to hear their depressing stories. They would spend hours telling about their wife or husband, their children or grandchildren, and each story geared to depression. Never changing their mood, their world never changed. Seeing no change, they would not recognize a law between the inner world they maintain and the outer world of response.

But if you apply this law you can predict your future. FEEL a new mood rise within you. Sustain it and soon you will meet people who embody this new state. Even inanimate objects are under the sway of these affinities. In a certain mood I have gone to my library and removed a book I have not touched in years. And when I casually open it, I find confirmation of my mood. A table, though remaining the same, will be seen differently based upon your momentary mood, for everything reflects it. It is your mood which decides your fortune, not your fortune that decides your mood. People feeling poor attract poverty, not knowing that if they felt rich they would attract wealth." - Neville

Never changing their Inner Reality through the medium of FEELING, they see no change in their outer-world. We do not believe this Law is real until we actually have a radical change within us. Without the radical change, we will say it was "coincidence" or it would have happened away. But when we radically change Inner Worlds and we make it conform to what we want, and we identify with the One Within who HAS the thing we desire, desire ceases and is replaced with the experience of HAVING IT. This stirs within us a mood that we want to have. Since we want this mood, sustaining it becomes easier. Sustain (simply conjuring it up again in meditation) it one day, and it becomes easier the next and next. Then it feels like a habit, which then turns into a character. That is how we change. Daily FEEL what you want to feel and experience what you want in Imagination which is your true SELF, the SELF that is reflected in front of you.

Now, in order to play the game of life, you must know what you want to replace what you have. When you know what it is, you must assume the feeling that you have it. Although your reason and senses will deny its existence, persistence will cause your assumption to harden into fact and objectify itself upon your screen of space. Play the game this way. You may think it doesn't work, but that's because you have not tried it. You may believe the idea is stupid, but I tell you: the mood decides your fortune. Believe me, for I have proved this principle over and over again in my life. - Neville

I use my fear to simply show me what I want, I stopped fearing fear. Once I accepted that I am doing it all within me, I was given the power to redeem my world WITHIN ME! I changed what was unlovely to lovely. I raised those up who I saw down on, I am and continue to be the Savior in my own mind. Then I started to see a change. But I did not wait to do it! I did it NOW. This is the best time to start, right now. Raise everyone up and yourself, give yourself all what you want.

If I only had 10 seconds to give you advice I would say this:

Do not be afraid to give yourself the greatest feelings and imaginings.

[go to PART 14, "The God Of The World Of Imagination!" ] ⤑

[raxistaicho]

"God's gonna get Edelgard for this!"

Yup, we sure have gone there!

So a while, RandomNameless got an anon ask:

Insane that Sothis can watch Billy slaughter her children and subjugate Fodlan in twu piss, and still say she adores him. The devs were drinking the El Grey that day.

You know it's RN because the stupid nicknames.

So yeah, Anon's just angrily ranting that Sothis doesn't care about her daughter which established a false religion, made people suffer for a millennia, and tried to violate the laws of life and death, which, when Ashera did it in Radiant Dawn, was treated by Caineghis as an utter betrayal of her supposed core attribute of order.

“A blasphemy, you mean! How could the goddess of order violate the most fundamental natural law?”

Stay salty, anon.

RN herself weighs in on it next. I'm gonna let her go on a bit because the actual argument she's making needs to be stated in full.

That's what baffled me in Tru Piss lol, and first route bias etc etc meant Sothis was unsalvageable given how it became painfully obvious, even for someone who didn't complete the other routes, that the goddess Rhea calls "mother" is Sothis herself ! Bear in mind Hresvelg Grey meant Sothis couldn't interact with the cast bar Billy, will never talk to her relatives and will never have any influence on the plot. It's as if Elbert only talk to Mark, while Eliwood is still frantically looking for him, and Mark never tells Eli where his dad is.

So here, RN is misunderstanding the point of Sothis in the broader narrative. Yes, Sothis happens to be Rhea's mother, but "being Rhea's mom" isn't her role in the story. RN, because she's a huge fan of the Nabateans, wants the story to be more about the Nabateans, but it really isn't.

See, there's a reason the Agarthans are dispatched in one chapter in all routes and are never the final bosses or the true villains of the story: the story isn't about them. They're important to its background, but they're important for what they represent and what they do, not who they are. The Nabateans are the same.

Ultimately, the story of Three Houses is a tale of the conflicts between mortals and the divine, and the differing ideologies espoused by those who represent those sides. Edelgard firmly represents the will of mortal humans. Rhea, her antithesis, represents the desire of the divine to watch over mortals. Rhea, unlike her species is important because she is Edelgard's opposite. Thales, who might have been Rhea's opposite, is not as important because he isn't: Edelgard already serves that role. Dimitri leans more toward the necessity of the divine in human affairs, while Claude leans more toward the self-governance of humans while using the divine when necessary. There's a reason Claude sides with the Empire when he must, and the church only when he can control it for the purposes of promoting humanism.

Byleth is smack in the middle, fitting their dual-nature as both human and god, but they must choose a side in the end. In CF, they fully embrace the human, while in SS they fully embrace the god. VW and AM are something more in the middle.

Sothis is similar in a way, as a being who was once a god, died, came back as something less than a god, and chooses to sacrifice her powers to Byleth, thus remaining something less than a god. Sothis willingly chooses not to resume her role as the goddess (in Zahras when she decides to give her powers to Byleth rather than taking Byleth's body as her own in order to escape), and so her role in the story is not to be the goddess or Rhea's mother, but to be Byleth's guide, setting them at the start of their path and then departing so they might make the rest of the way.

But Rhea BaD BaD BaD,

And now we dip into the anti-Rhea conspiracy theory...

so her mother cannot take over Billy (something she canonically does in Nopes) to save her,

Here's another fact RN can't accept - and she calls Sothis a horrible mother for it - but Sothis doesn't approve of Rhea. Furthermore, Rhea's downfall in CF is almost entirely of her own making. She set the groundwork for Fodlan's oppressive social system, she refuses to allow it to be reformed, and she never questions why anyone would disagree with her. Because, for Rhea, reforming the church and Fodlan means resurrecting Sothis and submitting Fodlan to her divine rule, which becomes impossible without her church (it's already impossible because Sothis knows her time as the goddess is over and she's respecting the laws of life and death, but still).

and to erase Supreme Leader who hilariously tells everyone she doesn't exist.

It's not even that "hilarious". Edelgard's right in that the goddess worshipped by the Church of Seiros no longer exists: she's dead, and when she had the chance to come back, she chose not to. The Church of Seiros might worship a being with the same name as the gremlin in Byleth's head, but Sothis the head-gremlin and Sothis the goddess are a whole life apart from one another, and the Sothis we know chooses to remain the former.

But now we get to the real meat of this post.

Fantasy Invader.

Oh yeah!

I think this is a translation issue as Japanese Sothis doesn't say that "the stone in your chest is gone," she says "the stone in your chest...shattered."

Teaspoon Translations has it as "crumbled away" and has no ellipse, but who am I to question Fantasy Invader trying to make things look as sad as possible?

It broke, which would mean something considering it's supposedly her heart.

We bwoke Sothis's heart by killing poor baby Whea T_T

What's more, the game changed Byleth's Nirvana class to Enlightened One, and part of achieving Nirvana is purging oneself of attachments that might cloud your judgement.

But only if it's Edelgard. If it's Dimitri or Rhea, attach yourself as hard as possible in the hope they come around.

Also, in the context of Three Houses, detachment is a bad thing. Byleth grows out of being the Ashen Demon through attachment to others. Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude become their best selves when they open up and allow others in. Attachment is a good thing in Three Houses.

Ergo, by playing Safflower (the route being named after a type of thistle, a path of thorns if you will)

Ah, yes, I remember that one. It wasn't very good.

the player breaks Sothis's heart,

Oh he actually just said, "you break her heart :("

the thing that holds her essence,

No, because by then Byleth held her essence. Not the crude, physical matter Rhea shoved into their chest.

You'd think the person who goes all-in on religious symbolism would value the eternal soul over the ephemeral body.

causing it to seemingly disappear,

Except it doesn't? Her essence, I mean, not the Crest Stone. That's what the S support is for.

But sadly, Fantasy Invader has a way to explain that away.

It's a really bad way, but a bad way is still a way!

yet she leaves behind the Sothis you knew.

I'm sorry, what. Nothing indicates the Sothis from her S support is some... bizarre cast-off shadow of her.

Sothis, the real Sothis, abandons Byleth at the end of Safflower, leaving behind any attachment she once held as Byleth walked down the path of the Beast as per Dimitri's comment.

I'm sorry, what. Is it too much to ask that FI provide some evidence for this claim? I mean actual evidence, not his headcanon derived from his poor attempts at analyzing Buddhist symbolism.

Wouldn't leaving behind a part of herself to remain with Byleth go against this whole no attachments thing? That's a pretty big attachment! And if Sothis rejected Byleth, why would she do that? She can't just make a clean break from Byleth, she has to literally detach the parts of her... soul... personality, that care for them? Wouldn't that make her an incomplete being? It was a bad thing in the Tellius games when Ashunera split her soul into parts!

Combine this with the implications Sothis can come back if she recreates her body,

You know, that thing she demonstrates no ability to do! If Sothis could just make herself another meat puppet to incarnate into, Rhea wouldn't have had to spend a millennia trying and failing to do that for her.

and why Nemesis needed to kill her when she was asleep,

Because she would have defended herself and killed him if she wasn't? He didn't have a Relic or a Crest back then, he was just a bandit trying to kill the most powerful Nabatean in the world.

What, is FI trying to imply Sothis's soul just got stuck asleep because she died asleep and that's why she never bothered to come back the first time she died?

and you get an idea what's going to happen when that occurs as well as another piece of evidence Edelgard is an Agarthan in all but name.

And there we go, "God's gonna get Edelgard for this!" Sothis will totally self-restore herself at some unknown period of time in the future, kill Bad Red Lady, and make everything right.

Well if that's the case, why do you bother getting upset at anything Byleth does, FI? Just be like those Christians who are sure Jesus is coming back any day now and he'll fix everything on Earth when he does.

So yeah, yet more salty desperate self-assurance that Edelgard's totally gonna lose the minute the credits start, trust me bro.

I mean seriously, if her detractors are so certain she'll fail, why bother getting upset when she wins? It really makes you think.

[shiroi---kumo]

⋆⁺₊⋆ 𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆ He doesn't know who this man is but he can't help but think he's a bit odd. What with the way he looks and with that mask he's wearing. There's a strange aura to him and he doesn't like the way he's looking at him.

"H- have I been resurrected?"

It's the only thing he can think to ask as he tries to get his wits about him. The man raises an arm and gives him a half bow as if he is already aware of the royalty he is before replying.

"Yes, My Lord Madoushi."

And he can't say he's fond of that. Madoushi? He is a swordsman and he does possess magic and he doesn't see how that would give him such a title but this man has raised him from the dead? He has somehow managed to pull his Mist down from the heavens in order to breath life back into his mortal form so then why?

"Why, If I may ask? And who are you?"

The man remains with an arm crossed over his chest and his head tipped down as he speaks.

"I am of no consequence. A humble servant of His Excellency, The Earl. One of his many humble servants and I do say Lord Makenshi will be quite surprised to see you."

"Makenshi?" There is a tip of his head as he sounds because he's only been alive again for a few moments but there's already something twisting in the pit of his gut and there is something telling him that he won't like whoever this Makenshi is.

"Why yes, the demon swordsman of course. I believe you know him, do you not Lord Madoushi?"

The Demon Swordsman?! Does he mean - he lived?! He survived that disaster?!

His hands are balling into fist as he thinks about it and his mind is reeling of all that happened to get to this point only to know that of all people to survive the death of their world, it would have been that spineless little coward. He stole the throne from him and instead of fighting he ran. The one with the very blessing of Tiamat herself and he ran when his people needed him. Their people needed them both but the one that was to be their King ran off cowering and he managed to get away with his wretched life... He managed....

That little bastard!

"Where is he?!" The swordsman is practically snarling at the masked man as red eyes narrow their gaze.

"So you do know him then. Wonderful. I can arrange a reunion for you if you just do one small task for me. I can tell you what happened to your Misterica as well if you wish to know what has become of it."

And so he lets the man prattle on. He lets him explain something called 'Chaos' and he explains how this world works. This Wonderland. He allows this masked man to give him the layout of the land and explain that he only need to deal with a few pesky travels and he'll be able to find this Lord Makenshi.

And if there's anything he wants right now, it's to see if he's right.

He doesn't want to be right. The last thing he wants is to be right because if he is that means that little coward truly abandoned their people. If he is right then that means that little coward has no business holding anything even akin to the crown.

Their people are gone and it is all the fault of the one who was born to save them. He had no business calling himself the Holy Vessel now. He had no business calling himself much of anything - that was if he was even alive. This Lord Makenshi cannot be who he thinks they are.... It's simply not -

Red eyes meet that of the ruins of his lost home and he's taking his time to look about them. He's taking his time to take it all in to process that this would be all that's left of Misterica even in her grand splendor. This is it. This is all that's left.

Just him and some broken pillars and shattered buildings. Just him and the clouds. His home was -

Ruby red eyes are focusing on a group of people he's never seen before. Hornless. Are they Windarian? He knows at least one of them is as a man in black with deep red hair steps forward. He lifts his arm and a golden gun assembles before his eyes.

The Demon Gunman no doubt and that had to mean... That had to mean that they both failed and Windaria was gone now too. Some Saviors. Some Sacred Vessels. Some Gods. It seems neither one of them could accomplish anything but his fight is not with this man and his several decade long grudge has nothing to do with the Windarian even as he makes a move to attack him.

"Stop!" A voice cries out before the man can fire. "Please, if you must shoot, turn the Magun on me."

He would know that voice anywhere. He would know every twang and tone of those flattened notes. Why does his voice sound of flat and where is the near constant teeter of an emotional implosion?

The body of white comes to land between himself and the man in black, arms raised as if to defend him from the Windarian threat.

"Black Wind, I understand you hold me in hatred but please find mercy enough in your heart to focus it on me and myself alone."

It seems nothing changes. He's still the same heavy headed fool he always was. So red eyes can only find it in themselves to watch him. To look over every speck the of the small white form that doesn't look a day older than the last time he saw him.

He can only take in every sight of him until he notices - he has changed. The boy he knew is not the man before him. This man, he, he's not shaking. He's not showing fear toward the Windarian nightmare that stands before them, even as this black demon points a golden directly at his heart.

So that means he needs to act instead. The little fool is going to get himself killed at this rate because as per usual he's acting as without thinking. As if he needs his protection. What a joke. It is and always will be the other way around.

The flare sword is dragging through red mist that's flooded into the space around them to draw the form he calls to it and once complete, the elder sun throws the collected energy towards the demon Gunman to trap him within a temporary prison.

The body of white finally turns. Red piercing deep into wide jade green.

"I don't need your protection, Pikkuveli."

[lalogawrites]

Warning Signs - ch 1

Here's a peek at my new OC clone-centric fic! Stonewall is one of my most beloved characters. I can't wait for y'all to meet him! 🥰

In this story, Stonewall meet my main Jedi OC, Kalinda Halcyon. After, his life will never be the same.

*

At precisely oh-eight-hundred the following morning, Stonewall found himself aboard one of the smaller shuttles, which had managed to dock with the transport that had brought the new Jedi. After ordering Beacon to wait, he stepped aboard the dingy little ship and glanced around the hold, the location where the airlock had opened. It was wide and empty, save for a few stacks of crates and boxes, and he frowned behind his bucket. “General Halcyon?”

“Hello there,” came a distinctly feminine voice from a nearby corridor. Stonewall turned to see a dark-haired woman slip out of the interior of the ship and make her way over to him. She was about a head shorter than a clone and dressed in the manner of most Jedi: sand-colored tunic and trousers; tall, brown boots and long cloak that swayed as she limped towards him.

That gave him pause. He'd never encountered a Jedi who limped. Stars and galaxies, he'd never even heard of one with a limp. Perhaps she'd been injured in a recent battle?

Thankful that his bucket concealed what was surely a perplexed expression, Stonewall straightened his spine and gave her a crisp salute across the cargo hold. “General Halcyon. Your transport is ready when you are, sir.”

Even though Stonewall had worked with a few female GAR personnel in the past, for some reason he couldn't place, it felt...odd to call this woman, “sir;” but protocol was protocol. Even so, he found himself wincing beneath his bucket as she gave a slight frown, but said nothing.

There was a canvas bag around her shoulder that bumped ungracefully into her hip as she moved towards him, and he had a sudden urge to relieve her of the burden. She came to a stop before him and looked up, as if she was trying to meet his gaze behind the bucket. Her eyes were large, dark, and something about them stuck in his mind in a way that was wholly unfamiliar.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile, sticking out her hand as she did so. “What's your name?”

For a moment he simply looked at her hand, then back at her face; quite frankly, he was flummoxed. General Kenobi was a genial man, but...distant. He'd never offered to shake any clone's hand, that Stonewall had seen, anyway. It was so with every Jedi he'd met –not that there had been many–but he'd worked with a few, and they were all that way: compassionate, but separate; polite, but distant.

Rationally, he understood Jedi were mortal–he'd seen them dirt-stained, fallen and bleeding–but despite that fact they still remained a world apart, inhabiting  a whole other plane of existence, one that he would never–could never–understand.

But this General Halcyon was watching him expectantly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to greet a clone in such a casual, friendly manner. As if they'd just met on the street, like in a holo-film.

As he extended his gloved hand to return the gesture of greeting, he looked into her eyes and confirmed that they were dark-brown, but he also thought they looked...kind. Now that was certainly an odd thing to think about a Jedi, wasn't it? Additionally, he could see wisps of dark hair that had come undone from the long plait that she wore down her back; a dark tendril had fallen loose and brushed the curve of her cheek, and had the strangest urge to smooth it back.

Stop it, soldier, he scolded himself, mentally wrenching his attention back to his mission. But just before their hands parted he noted that her grip was stronger than he'd expected, even for her being a Jedi.

“I'm sorry,” she said, tilting her head to the side, brows knitting. “Did I say something wrong?”

His name...of course. She'd asked his name, and rather than answer, he'd just gawked at her like a kriffing shiny. However, before he could reply he heard Beacon's voice in his ear. “Lieutenant, we're getting word from base. Scanners are picking up another storm. Captain Lefty wants us to return ASAP.”

“Right,” he said over the closed channel, inwardly cursing his inattention. Get a hold of yourself, soldier! You've seen women before – don't act like you're some rookie fresh out of the vat. As if he could prove it, he straightened his spine again and gave her another salute. “The transport is this way, General,” he said, indicating the hatch behind him.

“Great,” the Jedi replied, giving him an odd look as they began to walk in tandem. “Thanks...?”

“CC-3077,” he said with a nod. Her pace was slower than his, and it wasn't just because her legs were shorter, so he automatically altered his stride to match hers.

[books-i-finished-reading]

(24)

City of Glass - Cassandra Clare

( The mortal instruments - book 3/6 )

11th March 2023

"... I saw it, and I thought of you."

"... handling it with grace. ..."

"Normal isn't all it's cracked up to be."

The first time Simon had ever seen Isabelle, he'd found her so striking, so alight with life and vitality and energy, he'd thought he'd finally found a girl who burned bright enough to blot out the image of Clary... It was right around the time she'd gotten him turned into a rat at Magnus Bane's loft party that he'd realized maybe Isabelle burned a little too bright for an ordinary guy like him.

"There's something very wrong with you," he said. "Mentally, I mean."

"Some laws were meant to be broken."

... tired of having no idea what anyone was talking about.

Occasionally he would point out items of interest in a somber voice, like the world's most depressed tour guide.

"How are you feeling?" Clay's neck was aching, her whole body on fire, her mouth dry. "I'm fine," she said.

"She's the only girl in the family too, so she has to keep proving how tough she is. ..." Simon said, almost absently. "You know, since your parents don't know you're gay and all." Alec stopped in the middle of the road... "No," he said, "but apparently everyone else does."

"People believe what they want to believe,"

He shrugged. "I have a fetish for damsels in distress." "Don't be sexist." "Not at all. My services are also available to gentlemen in distress. It's an equal opportunity fetish," he said, ...

"... What are you punishing yourself for? You can't help how you feel."

"... Love makes us liars,"

"I'm glad you want to get to know me. But I just don't have the energy to get to know you. Sorry."

Her euphoria was short-lived.

I'm alone. I've never been so alone, and it's all my own fault.

... what was the point in crying when there was no one there to comfort you? And what was worse, when you couldn't even comfort yourself?

Jace's gaze remained steady. "And quit baring your fangs at me. It's making me nervous." "Good," Simon said. "If you want to know why, it's because you smell like blood." "It's my cologne. Eau de Recent Injury." Jace raised his left hand. It was a glove of white bandages, stained across the knuckles where blood had seeped through.

... she'd hoped for Jace and gotten Sebastian instead.

... made me feel about two inches tall.

"I'd better not regret this."

Somewhere between here and there...

... the death of all joy.

"Alec?" Magnus was staring at him. ... "Did you just-did you just save my life?" Alec knew he ought to say something like, Of course, because I'm a Shadowhunter and that's what we do, or That's my job. Jace would have said something like that. ... But the words that actually came out of Alec's mouth were quite different... "You never called me back," he said. "I called you so many times and you never called me back." Magnus looked at Alec as if he'd lost his mind. "Your city is under attack," he said. "The wards have broken, and the streets are full of demons. And you want to know why I haven't called you?" Alec set his jaw in a stubborn line. "I want to know why you haven't called me back." Magnus threw his hands up in the air in a gesture of utter exasperation. ... "You're an idiot." "Is that why you didn't call me? Because I'm an idiot?" "No." Magnus strode toward him. ... "... I'm tired of watching you be in love with someone else-someone, incidentally, who will never love you back. Not the way I do." "You love me?" "You stupid Nephilim," Magnus said patiently. "Why else am I here? Why else would I have spent the past few weeks patching up all your moronic friends every time they got hurt? And getting you out of every ridiculous situation you found yourself in? Not to mention helping you win a battle against Valentine. And all completely free of charge!" ... "Magnus's cat eyes shone with anger. "I'm seven hundred years old, Alexander. I know when something isn't going to work. ..." Alec stared at him. "I thought you were three hundred! You're seven hundred years old?" "Well," Magnus amended, "eight hundred. But I don't look it. Anyway, you're missing the point. The point is-" ... at that moment a dozen more Iblis demons flooded into the square. ... "Tell you what." Alec reached for a second seraph blade. "We live through this, and I promise I'll introduce you to my whole family." Magnus raised his hands, ... "It's a deal."

Alec shook him, not lightly. "You said you were going for a walk! What kind of walk takes six hours?" "A long one?" Jace suggested. "I could kill you," Alec said, ... "I'm seriously thinking about it."

... that was what you did with family when you'd been worried about them; you grabbed them and held on to them and told them how much they'd pissed you off, and it was okay, because no matter how angry you got, they still belonged to you.

"You had to make a crazy jail friend, didn't you? You couldn't just count ceiling tiles or tame a pet mouse like normal prisoners do?"

"... I lived in fear, as much as I lived at all."

The first morning Simon had been at Amatis's house, a grinning lycanthrope had showed up on the doorstep with a live cat for him. "Blood," he'd said, in a heavily accented voice. "For you. Fresh!" Simon had thanked the werewolf, waited for him to leave, and let the cat go, his expression faintly green. "Well, you're going to have to get your blood from somewhere," Luke had said, looking amused. "I have a pet cat," Simon had replied. "There's no way."

"People aren't born good or bad. Maybe they're born with tendencies either way, but it's the way you live your life that matters. ..."

"... I felt like that-like you were some part of me I'd lost and never even knew I was missing until I saw you again..."

"I love you, and I will love you until I die, and if there's a life after that, I'll love you then."

"... The last night we go to sleep and get up just as we always have. And all I could think of was that I wanted to spend it with you."

... contained, alone, and separate.

You could say anything you wanted to someone you thought you were never going to see again.

"Knowing is better than not knowing. Every time."

"... You were experiments." He smiled at her startled look. "I'm not stupid. I can put these things together. You with your rune powers, and Jace, well . . . no one could be that annoying without some kind of supernatural assistance."

"... He loved you, and it was killing him."

"... as long as I remember what it was like to love you, I'll always feel like I'm alive."

Isabelle, following his gaze, snorted. "Alec, that's a werewolf. A girl werewolf. In fact, it's what's-her-name. May." ... She turned, as if sensing their eyes on her, and smiled. Simon smiled back. Isabelle glowered. Simon stopped smiling hastily-when exactly had his life gotten so complicated?

"Everyone does what they must to survive."

It was beautiful, and also terrifying.

"You could have had anything else in the world, and you asked for me." ... "But I don't want anything else in the world."

"You're here!" Isabelle danced up to them in delight, carrying a glass of fuschia liquid, which she thrust at Clary. "Have some of this!" Clary squinted at it. "Is it going to turn me into a rodent?" "Where is the trust? I think it's strawberry juice," Isabelle said. "Anyway, it's yummy. Jace?" She offered him the glass. "I am a man," he told her, "and men do not consume pink beverages. Get thee gone, woman, and bring me something brown." "Brown?" Isabelle made a face. "Brown is a manly color," said Jace, ... "In fact, look-Alec is wearing it." Alec looked mournfully down at his sweater. "It was black," he said. "But then it faded." "You could dress it up with a sequinned headband," Magnus suggested, ... "Just a thought." "Resist the urge, Alec." Simon was sitting on the edge of a low wall ...

"... We all tell the truth as we see it ..."

"Patience, grasshopper," said Maia. "Good things come to those who wait." "I always thought that was 'Good things come to those who do the wave,' " said Simon. "No wonder I've been so confused all my life."

Every memory was valuable; even the bad ones.

I wish I knew what you were thinking. I wish I could slip into your head and see the world the way you do. I wish I could see myself the way you do.

I belong to you. You could do anything you wanted with me and I would let you. You could ask anything of me and I'd break myself trying to make you happy. My heart tells me this is the best and greatest feeling I have ever had. But my mind knows the difference between wanting what you can't have and wanting what you shouldn't want. And I shouldn't want you.

As long as I can still dream, I will dream of you.

[flowercrown-bard]

Before the beginning!

thank you! Before the beginning: three sentences (or more) about something that happened before the plot of my current project

this is for the reincarnation au A new us will begin. I can't decide if this is a huge spoiler or if it's too incoherent for that

content warnings: Mention of blood

Are you god or devil, ghost dishevelled

They have been called many a thing in the time of their existence.

A streak of luck.

A blessing.

A curse.

Cruelty incarnate.

Above all, powerful. The most powerful being in the world. They could will earthquakes into being, they could break mountains and cure death if the conditions were spoken carefully enough.

And yet, they were enslaved. To wishes, to wording, to that cursed amphora trapping them.

They were forced to bow to the will of those speaking commands at them, yet none could control how tall they would stand up again when the bowing was done.

“I want my tail to become legs,” a mermaid asked and not a day later, she was found by a fisherman, who slit her tail in half, turning it into legs through blood and pain. As she had wished.

“I want riches beyond belief,” a king demanded and they granted his wish, making it so that everything the fool touched would turn to gold, his bed, his food, his lovers.

People cursed them for twisting their words, called them unjust and evil.

Still they kept coming, kept asking for gifts they knew they would regret eventually.

Every last one of them thought they would be the one to outsmart a being older than time itself. As long as people had been filled with wishes, greed and foolishness, they had been right there to give them exactly what they were asking for.

“I just want some damn peace!”

Oh.

Oh this was beautiful.

What fools these mortals be. Peace, he is asking for? Now, there is so much that could be done with that.

They had been called many a thing in their life, yet somehow no one had ever recognised the genius of them, the way their mind worked, the creativity pulsing through them.

Peace could mean sleep, eternal and plagued with nightmares.

Peace could mean a sudden dying of all mortals, so no more war could be fought out.

Peace could mean a bard, beloved and oh so fragile, falling to his knees, clutching at his throat, from whence no sound shall come again.

They had been called many a thing and perhaps all of those names were true in a way.

Perhaps it was cruelty that made them give the witcher a chance to save his friend, to watch him despair and feel the pain and rage of being powerless.

How could an all-powerful being be so powerless as to be bound to others?

And how dare mortals think they could be more powerful than them?

How could the sorceress think that she could ever truly stop one wish that had been spoken already? She gave it her all to cure the bard, to rid him of the destructive chaos surging through his veins, to rid him of the effects of an ill-spoken wish.

But even a sorceress as powerful as she could never truly rid the world of the likes of them.

Even as the last wish was spoken – another foolish one, yet more thought through than the others – and they left these mortals, they could still feel how the first wish clung to their victim.

In years to come, they felt it tugging at them, calling for just a piece of their power to fulfill more of this wish.

The witcher had asked for peace.

The Djinn had done their best to give it to him.

Now, with the Djinn gone and the magic yet remaining, it was on someone else to decide what peace meant.

How genius of them, to give that power to someone known for twisting words, stretching the truth. How creative, to let the bard who should have died for the witcher’s peace, fail to recognise what true peace would look like for him.

How utterly cruel, to watch as the bard came back for the witcher’s peace and gave him nothing but pain.

(for this ask game)

[thefairyletters]

Ask me a ship and I'll tell you:

NaruSaku

Who proposed to the other first?

Naruto.

It took several practice sessions with Iruka (because Sasuke refused) pretending to be Sakura for Naruto to master the trick of kneeling and presenting the ring with an air of confidence. But when it mattered, Naruto tipped over his shoelaces (he never worn formal attire ever), accidently knocked over the table (somehow) and bumped straight into Sakura (some ninja he was), and that was how both got kicked out of the very expensive restaurant for causing ruckus.

But when Sakura said she thought "formal proposals were overrated anyway", he took her to Ichiraku, looked her dead in the eye while slurping on ramen, passed her the ring and popped the question illegibly.

Sakura understood anyway and threw a ring she brought for him on his face. She never said 'yes' but she didn't need to.

Who kissed the other first?

Naruto.

It was during a mission. They almost got caught by enemy guards (thanks to Naruto who doesn't know what it means to whisper) while they were following their target. Naruto did the only thing that would have possibly given them an edge. He pulled her to shade and initiated the kiss. Sakura only made sure they looked very convincing. Regardless to say, they got (kicked) out from the location, but without damage.

Later, this kiss inspired many more kisses that they began to steal from each other in the dark.

Who gives a good-morning kiss to other?

Sakura.

Although Naruto is always in bliss whenever Sakura stays night at his place and he is always up early if only to see her wake, it is Sakura who, when she wakes up, sleepily, kisses him first and gets out of the bed to prepare for the day. He always remain in bed until the shower is turned on.

Who likes to play with other's hair?

Naruto.

Between two of them, they both know it is Naruto's hair that is much softer to touch. It wasn't always like that of course.

But Naruto has always found Sakura's hair to be the prettiest thing he's ever seen. The way sunshine would turn it gold, and moonlight silver, has always amazed him. He would give special attention to her hair whenever they'd make love and cuddle. Once Sakura asked if he loved her only for her hair, which he doesn't refute, much to Sakura's chargin and amusement.

Who likes to play footsies?

Sakura.

There was something innately sexy about Sakura's arms and legs. It could be that she's got the best built – one that is lean and strong all the same – out of their peers. Naruto's breath hitch every time those legs brush his and her heels trace an imaginary line on his calves. They know they should focus on the meeting. They know it was inappropriate for a Hokage to be distracted in the middle of the what could be a very important meeting. But they also know his very playful and intelligent wife was adept at takes noting of everything. Everything.

Who is the dominant one?

Kurama.

As much as Sakura loves to be on the top, it becomes hard when a demon houses in your lover's body. More often than not, Kurama who more or less has become a part of their relationship would take over Naruto's body whenever Sakura would cross a particular threshold of dominance tolerated to her. Apparently, it was insulting for an alpha male like Kurama to be taken from above by a mere mortal woman, even if the said woman was his host's wife. Not that it was his body she was making love to in first place.

It's only because Naruto could feel everything even when Kurama takes his body that they put up with his sexism. Besides, Sakura doesn't mind.

Who likes to keep a picture of the other with them all the time?

Both.

They each wear a necklace bearing each other's photo inside, to remind themselves of the times they were missing out on, of their significant other waiting for them at return home, to keep them company for the late nights when they get too busy with their duties.

Who likes to buy the other gifts?

Naruto.

He always send his clones to get Sakura flowers to cheer her up on days he hears about loss in the hospital. He often requests Gaara for new poisons he knows Sakura will enjoy in her lab. He takes her out on dates even after years of marriage – particularly to that very expensive restaurant, where he had planned to propose to her, that had kicked them out. They act deliberately loud in that one, but they don't get kicked out of course. Nobody minds what you do when you have power.

Most days, they don't send gifts for one another not because they couldn't but because those things don't spark joy in the face of the brighter things. Like, when Sakura comes to pick him up from office after her late shift, knowing he would still be cooped up in his office because he lost track of time.

Who takes initiative in making physical contact?

Sakura.

She would hit him whenever he would make a mistake, forget something important, or skip meals. Then, next moment she would be patting him like he were a dog, kiss his woes away and be on her merry way. She would come to his office to check if he had his lunch, and would force feed him if he hadn't (more often than not). She would drag him out of his office if he isn't home by 12 or would stay and help him until the work is done. She wasn't gentle nor romantic by any stretch, but she would always touch him for one reason or other.

Who plans their dates?

Naruto.

His clones come in handy. They'd scout the area and report back their findings. Naruto would jot it all down, highlighting their specialities, an habit Shikamaru and Sakura drilled into him, and allows Sakura to make her choice for their next date. Life is simple for them when it comes to making choices. It is when they are together that life becomes exciting.

Who was shy on their first date?

Neither.

Their first date had been no different than any normal meetups they've had before. Except with lingering touches, an innocent kiss turned make up session, and a hug.

Who wakes up the other?

Before marriage: Naruto would wake up first and help Sakura get started on her day – would make her coffee just the way she liked, set her outfit out by the vanity, make sure her bag is set just so she doesn't miss her files, and make bath for them. He would join her on the bed, and wait for her to wake up so he could get his prize for his hardwork.

After marriage: They'd both be too exhausted to find energy in them to wake up. Sakura would be the first to get out of the bed, but only after giving Naruto his customary kiss, and would set bath for them. Her husband would still be lost to the world so she would carry his sleepy ass into bath and prepare him for the day so they could once again be on their way to face the world.

Who was shy in taking their relationship to next level?

Sakura.

When Naruto and Sakura engaged in a kiss that was more passionate than they ever experienced before, Sakura knew what was coming. Her mind was a turmoil of emotions that had nothing to do with the heat that flared inside her body.

Sakura was no stranger to kisses. She liked – no, loved – kissing Naruto senseless. She could think of hundred ways that could make Naruto respond to her with only a kiss, and she loved that he loved kissing her. But, her body was her vulnerability. She could think hard but still would draw blank if it's about telling one positive detail about her body. Naruto always looked at her like she was the only woman in the world – and while the sentiment was flattering, it meant expectations. She was terrified of disappointing him. She didn't want to consider the possibility of him finding her body undesirable. They were dating, not married. He had no ties to her, he was free to find someone who he'd be attracted to, a better life, with someone who'd be a lot, lot better than her. She loved him, and she knew he loved her, but the chances of her messing this up were astronomical and –

Naruto pulled away from the kiss to look at her, to understand why she froze in his arms. He didn't understand the reason behind her anxiety – why she would freeze whenever his hands would inch a little too close to her chest or a little below her hips – so he did what she really wanted him to: stop.

One night, Sakura murmured her fears into his ears and Naruto, who had never seen her look so timid and breakable, gave her what she needed the most: time.

Time until marriage so she wouldn't have a reason to be afraid.

Who hogs up the blankets in their sleep?

Naruto.

When it happened for the nth time, Sakura threatened to kick Naruto out of the bed with only his dear blankets to shelter him from cold. He nodded his consent of course, but it repeated the next day and the day after, too, but Sakura is nothing if not adaptable, so she has thus learnt to keep another blanket on her side of the bed so she doesn't die in her sleep on cold mornings.

Who is easy to get jealous?

Sakura.

You can't help some things from happening when your boyfriend-turned-husband is a war-hero, as Sakura learnt it one week into her dating him. While she isn't bothered per se – being considered quite a hit among men and popular across countries herself – but there is a bold line between people admiring your lover and people feeling up your lover.

It is only because her reputation and her glare which is known to promise suffering that people scurry away from Naruto whenever she is in the vicinity.

No, Sakura is just worried for Naruto. She knows her husband wouldn't try things if he knows what's best for him.

Who cooks in the house?

Naruto.

Sakura can't cook rice to save her life. Period. Everyone in team 7 is well-aware about her inability to be domestic in general. Naruto finds it endearing most of the times– times when she is not attempting to make him her test subject for her culinary experiments.

They don't need chef to make them dinner when they return home, Naruto always makes sure to send a clone to make them dinner. Sakura has more than once told him that she was the luckiest woman in the world to have him as her husband. He makes them fresh bentos through clones. He tries new recipes whenever he gets a day off and surprises Sakura with his skills. Their sundays involve just them and their kitchen.

Sakura still insists on making them dinner whenever she could. She learnt to make a decent ramen after a month long – disastrous – training from Ayame. Although Sakura always adds too much of something, Naruto always licks his bowl clean because to him her ramen is only second to Ichiraku.

Who 'protects' and who 'nurtures'?

Sakura protects him.

Naruto nurtures her.

.

.

.

(Ask me a ship! But not in the comments section lol)

[ezra-iolite]

Hello! For Swift for the oc meme: 💤☕️🌌⏳📎🌪️💙💔 I know it's a lot but I have so many questions about her! Thank you! :D

Oh my gods, thank you, bud-bud!! I've been saving these answers just for you~ ;3 Prepare for a nice long reply and infodump on Swiftwire!! Oh and also be prepared for both wholesome fluffiness, heartbreak/angst.... and some plot reveal~ ¬w¬

Enjoy this LONG ASS infodump!

💤 SLEEPING - Do they fall asleep easily? What helps them sleep?

Sadly, sleep is something that comes with great difficulty for Swift. Despite her being relatively healthy and managing her mental health as best she can, her past still greatly haunts her in her dreams. As such, only one thing has been proven to help her fall right into a deep and peaceful sleep... She cannot fall asleep without being held. Be it spooning, sleeping on someone's lap, it doesn't matter. As long as someone is there to lend their physical warmth or mere presence, Swift will be able to fall asleep in only a few short minutes.

This habit was created by Optimus on accident during her time as a human, when she was going through a rough time readjusting to a normal routine after her "first betrayal" and the most traumatizing time of her mortal life (*cough* Smokescreen ditched her in a forest for two entire weeks *cough*). She was also finding it difficult to adjust within their new base of Hanger E, and during another night of trauma-based nightmares and waking up in a screaming panic, Optimus decided to lend a hand by staying with Asya the few nights he could remain at base, mostly by sitting beside her bed, reading to her and letting her hold his hand in her sleep, all to teach her subconscious mind that she was safe. And when he was forced away, he ordered Bulkhead, Miko or Jack to help Asya through her PTSD nightmares.

However, it wasn't until Asya was found sleeping on the couch, waiting for Optimus's return, that the Prime decided to do what he swore never to do out of fear of hurting her accidentally... He took her to his room, mass converted to her size, and spent the entire night holding her against him as they slept. He did this only a few more times until Asya finally broke free of her nightmares and began to sleep without any further hassle. But, eventually, she would sneak into his room and curl up beside his neck, falling asleep to the warmth of his faceplate and a gentle kiss upon her head. This did stop, sadly, once she became Swiftwire the Seeker. Those nights were the hardest for her, and she still secretly longs to feel his presence in her sleep to this day.

Now, Swift is never alone when she sleeps, even during the times Knockout works the nightshift in the Iacon Hospital, as every night Conduit would do exactly as she did with her father in the past and sneak into their room and curl up beside his sleeping mother, who would instinctually pull him close and hug him to her chest. And when Knockout is present, Conduit will often find himself smothered comfortably between his parents. And whenever Conduit chooses to sleep in his own room, Swift will usually stay up to wait for Knockout's return after work, where the two will crash into bed together and sleep entangled in each other's arms.

And if you're curious... Swift sleeps on her stomach or side due to her wings, with Knockout usually holding her on his chest or against his side when he sleeps on his back, and when he goes onto his side he will usually be the little spoon, since Swift is slightly taller than him and to avoid her wings from whacking him in the face... again. But every time, no matter what position they fall asleep in, Swift will always be hugging either Knockout's torso, his shoulders, or an arm of his. All because it's her subconscious instinct to hug something or someone in her sleep~

~*~

☕️ HOT BEVERAGE - Do they prefer hot or cold drinks? What is their favourite drink? Well... Since Swift can't exactly drink regular drinks as a Cybertronian, I will say what she used to enjoy as Asya the human. During her free time while she attended her final year of Jasper High with Jack, Miko and Raf, Asya was the kind of person who would go to Starbucks before class or during lunch and get a coffee with her food. Once she began to truly warm up to the gang, she would eventually buy them drinks too.

Her favourite kind of drink was usually an iced latte, but when the seasons got cold, she would switch it out for a regular hot latte. Her favourite kind is a coconut and chocolate, or a coconut and caramel. She's MASSIVELY into coconut, if you couldn't tell?~

~*~

🌌 MILKY WAY - What was the inspiration behind your OC? What was the first thing you decided about them? Oooohhh I've been dying to reveal this one!!

Swiftwire was originally going to remain just as her human self, as Asya Mutheru the transwoman in the care of Team Prime, and her entire theme was going to be about the journey of becoming her true self in terms of her gender identity. But then I realized how much better it would be if she could become what she dreamed of being, but at a cost~

But what truly inspired her creation was the lack of a certain community theme in the Transformers fandom and the AO3 tags. There was barely anything on transgendered characters or trans self-inserts on AO3. So I began there, crafting an OC that represented my own struggles with finding my gender, while also making sure she was a part of another underrepresented community in general literature, just to make sure her being trans didn't define her entire character... That being the black transwomen community, something I've very rarely seen in literature.

So, Swiftwire is an avatar of representation and the struggles of defining one's self, as both a black woman and a transgendered young adult. (So yes, if they were human or went out in their holoforms, Swiftwire and Knockout would most likely be an interracial couple~)

It certainly doesn't help that I'm a white European and a clueless author on such topics, but with every detail I add to Asya AND Swift's journey, I always make sure I do my research to back it up, and always with an open mind to make sure I correct any mistakes I make. I am not stubborn in how I write, so I will always be open to criticism to make sure that what I do is done with the best interests at heart.

However, More Than A Name is more than just the journey of a woman finding herself through the struggles of what is thrown her way... it's the journey a person's name can go through when they are a part of the trans or gender nonconforming community. To a regular person who has never questioned anything about their identity, the name they were born with is merely an extension of their identity and family, something they were given and never feel the need to think about it beyond remembering how to spell it. But to someone who never felt right bearing their own name, it's a sense of freedom and relief to finally figure out who and what you are by changing themselves in that area. A name is so much more than a title or label to those of this community... It's a way of expressing yourself in a way that defines you as the real you.

Hence the title of my fanfic... A name you call someone can sometimes be more than just a name to them. Asya and Swiftwire are more than just the names of one individual... they're the titles of the paths she has taken in her life to earn the pride in having them define who she is beneath her flaws and beauty. Swift may be her nickname, but Asya will always be what calls to her at her very core... what defines her as the real Asya Mutheru-Pax. It is her name, and it's why Ratchet and Knockout call her this in private. They know the power this name holds, and why it is so important to her.

~*~

⏳ HOURGLASS - Are they usually late or on-time? Swift is quite organized in her sense of timing. I mean, she has to be for her role as "Lady of the First Dawn", along with all the responsibility it brings. But, she still hates waking up in the morning, and will often sleep through her alarms if she's really comfy or tired, mostly due to the fact that she's a night owl and will often stay up when Knockout is working the nightshift to ensure he comes home to a warm welcome.

Does this tire her out and affect her schedule for the following day?

Yes. It 100% does.

Does she still do it anyways, knowing that she'll get her own warm welcome when she returns home from work to her awaiting husband, and a nice long cuddle to bring them both back into their regular sleep schedule or to simply regain their energy for the next day?

Yes, and it's absolutely worth it to her~

~*~

📎 PAPERCLIP - A random fact I'll use this bit to answer another question that actually helped me to figure something out about Swift, only because it took me ages to figure this out.... But at long last, I FINALLY FOUND HER VOICE CLAIM!!!! And as a bonus, I'll include another fact at the end, just for fun~ ;3

- > 📣 MEGAPHONE - How loud are they? What do they speak like? Got a voice claim? When speaking normally or to a single person, Swift speaks in a very soft voice that bears a slight huskiness to it, with a tone that is deep but also pitched to fit her gender. When speaking in a serious manner to someone, her voice can easily carry both the weight of what she wishes to express, and the gentleness of her maternal nature. When she allows herself to be confident and bodacious (Knockout has clearly influenced her ever since the two first became friends), she speaks with a hint of velvety sultriness and a level of charisma that is seen throughout her body language, which only further proves how and why she is capable of addressing groups of people without any strain to her voice, all thanks to the time she spent doing theatre and practicing her way of speaking while in the closet... and a little of her acting like Optimus when she gives speeches.

She's quite fond of singing, like the theater kid she is at heart, and loves to sing Disney and broadway musical songs. In fact, when she first heard her own voice upon seeing herself as a Seeker for the very first time, Miko was the one who demanded asked if she could try singing, to see how her new more feminine voice sounded.... Swiftwire cried tears of joy the moment she reached the chorus.

And this is how I imagine her to sound when she speaks. The singing just perfectly captures how I imagine her to sound when she speaks to Conduit or just in her general motherly tone, a tone which carries the benevolence she always tries her best to embody in her everyday life. And perhaps when she sings softly enough to perform lullabies to Sira and Conduit, this is how she sounds: https://youtu.be/aW_-RjF8AMw

However, when she TRULY sings and allows all her pride and passion to be free and flow through her, she's very much a soprano, and her voice changes dramatically from its usual low and husky tone to a sweet melodic sound... A skill she is deeply proud of and ensures she practices whenever she's alone: https://youtu.be/Crs5A0Qu8wk?t=53 And yes, she would SO belt out this song, as I imagine it being her favourite musical... Poor Knockie got so annoyed of it at first, constantly hearing her playing the entire album over and over again, and nearly falling asleep after watching literally every movie version of the musical with her... But when he finally heard her singing it without the music, just while she was cleaning the apartment and doing her own thing while not noticing him behind her, he finally figured out why she loved this song... It was the first song she ever sang when she became a Seeker, the song used to allow her to hear the voice that finally fitted her. He now treasures every moment he hears her belting out a song whenever she thinks she's alone~

(Music has surprisingly become an important thing to them both, ever since those days Asya would sneak out at night to meet Knockout, the nights that truly shaped their bond to become more than just a secret friendship. In fact, the song used at the first dance of their wedding was the same song that played on Knockout's radio when Asya first realized she was in love with him.... Time after time by Cyndi Lauper~)

Her voice as Asya the human, however, was completely different, due to the fact that she was still stuck in the body of a man. With her entire existence needing to be kept a secret, for her safety from both the Cons and her own father, Asya had no means of gaining the surgery or therapy needed to become her true physical self. But that didn't stop her from feeling proud of what she could accomplish for herself, including her singing. With a little training and practice from her days attending theatre class, and plenty of nights out hitting the karaoke bar with Knockout in secret, Asya's usually low, rumbling and grating masculine voice was soon replaced by a more high-pitched, slightly raspy but silvery tone.

And this would be Asya's singing voice: https://youtu.be/mVVRJD60DBo?t=205

~

And here, a free random fact, as promised...... Everyone in the Mutheru-Pax family (Swift, Knockout and Conduit mainly) are a part of the LGBTQ+ community. Swift is not just a transfemme, but also a masculine-lean Omnisexual (prefers men/mechs, but finds pretty much anyone of any gender attractive), and if the chance ever arose and she discussed this with Knockout and Conduit for their say on the matter... she would happily be Polyamorous too, especially with Breakdown if he were alive. But for now, she's very much happy and content with just her husband.

Knockout (in my headcanon) is Panromantic-Demisexual. I mean... come on. It's clearly accepted in the fandom that he'd flirt with anyone and everyone, especially the mechs/men, and I do accept the canon ship between him and Breakdown as something this KO experienced before his eventual death in TFP. So, to that end, I feel he would be considered a VERY fruity boi with no preference to a person's gender identity, just as long as they treat him right. However, I believe he would prefer to take things slow and get to know a person over a long period of time, before he would even dare to consider opening up to them in an intimate manner, let alone start anything serious with them. It's why Swift waited three years before she decided to confess her love to him... alongside the adrenaline of battle urging her to spill her secrets. (For a timeframe to help visualize this... The two have known each other for a total of eight years; they were friends for three, dated for three (give or take), and have been married for two.)

And Conduit, once he's older and starts looking into what he likes, is simply gay. In the future, he will find a mech to bring home and introduce his parents to as his boyfriend, and when that happens.... Swift will scream in excitement at the fact that she has achieved her dream of having a queer child, and will smother both her son and her future son-in-law with kisses and hugs and squeal her delight at how proud she is of her baby boy. Knockout, meanwhile, will simply pat the mech on the back and welcome him into the family, before giving his son "the talk" and pass on his tips and tricks on how to manage a long-lasting and healthy relationship.

As for Sira... I'd imagine that once she reaches her mature years, she'd be a supportive ally to her brother and queer family, but would actually have no interest in dating or anything else for herself. So I'd say she could be Aromantic-Asexual, the type who would go on to marry someone, but it would be a platonic marriage rather than what her parents have... But she'd still find new ways of embarrassing her older brother in front his boyfriend/husband~

~*~

🌪️ TORNADO - What is the biggest change you've ever made to them? How have they changed from their original version? As mentioned previously, she was designed to remain a human throughout the story, but I was also planning on her having a different kind of relationship with Optimus and a few others. And I, for one, am so glad I changed it.

Originally, Swiftwire was going to be in a large polyamorous relationship with Optimus, Knockout and Starscream, but each relationship would be different.

Swift and Knockout still are like high school sweethearts who followed their hearts and remained together, even after what life threw their way to keep them apart.

Swift and Optimus would have been like an old married couple, spending their time together in content silence and exchanging words of wisdom or humble moments of blissful romance.

Swift and Starscream would have been an enemies-to-lovers type of relationship at the start, and once they came together with OP and KO, the two Seekers would end up becoming a sassy duo, the two finding new ways to playfully annoy each other and the others of the group. Sira was originally going to be their biological child, rather than Swift's and KO's.

Knockout and Optimus would have been like awkward lovers, with Knockout being the lead and Optimus feeling too shy to initiate anything in the relationship for a good while, before the two would eventually become more comfortable with each other as time went on... and both equally tolerate Starscream as a lover.

Knockout and Starscream would have been what they were in TFP, as best friends and eventually lovers, but would vibe the best when together with Swift, as the three of them would become party animals and tricksters towards Optimus.

And Optimus would just tolerate Starscream as a metamour, someone he doesn't have strong feelings towards but would still respect as the partner to his lovers.

Yeah.... I yeeted that idea right out the window and kept only a piece of it. 😂 It was just way too complex for my liking.

~*~

💙 BLUE HEART - Do they miss their s/o easily? How do they act when their S/O isn't around? Swift does respect the fact that anyone, even those who have been married for a long enough time, should have some private time to themselves every now and again to unwind and mentally recharge. It's why Swift created her own art studio in Vos. However, with the fact that both she and Knockout work away from home, Swift less often due to her not needing to show up as much to perform her duties, she will often spend her free time at home reading and doing arts and crafts when Knockout and Conduit are busy, a hobby they have all picked up on thanks to Swift's ever expanding book collection from Earth.

But, like the traumatized bean she is, Swift does miss her beloved Red McDreamy when he works the long shifts and she has the day off. With the apartment empty, she'd most likely get bored very easily and start creating sketches for her next idea on what to paint on his face and frame, since Knockout loves to let Swift decorate him with African dot art and be her living canvas. All the while, she would yearn for him while doodling on his photos in her datapad, longing for his touch and hugs when he's only been gone for two hours by that point. So in a way, she is a tiny bit clingy... And if you're curious about everyone's book interests.... Conduit's favourite books are Watership Down, Maurice by E.M Forster, and Good Omens, while his sister Sira (once she reaches her teen years) will enjoy reading Shakespeare, many of the classics such as The Great Gatsby, and plenty of theatre sourced books (due to her shared passion of musicals with her mother) such as A Doll's House, The Count of Monte Cristo and The Phantom of the Opera. KO's favorites are The Song of Achilles and, a joke gift turned into his guilty pleasure, Pride and Prejudice... Yes, he watched the movie (the 2005 version), and immediately developed a crush on Mr. Darcy. Swift still teases her darling queer hubby about it to this day, while also gushing about her old crush on the character with him. It's their favourite thing to do on a quiet night in, to find movies to watch together that include hot leading roles and either mock their acting or gush over how hot they are.

~*~

💔 BROKEN HEART - What could their partner do that would absolutely break their heart? Prepare for your own heartbreak here...

Swift has loved Knockout since his Con days, and even when he threatened her Autobot family in the past, she still loved him through it all. And because of her unwavering faith in him, he recognized his feelings for her and eventually opened up to her. And ever since the day she confessed her love to him in the middle of a battle, the two have been inseparable and have constantly helped each other through thick and thin, as best friends and lovers. However, Swift still feels guilty for the one thing she did that broke Knockout's spark all those years ago........

On the day her father died, the day that would forever haunt Swiftwire to this day, Ratchet approached her bearing a heavy burden on what she would inherit from his death, telling her on that day to allow the reality of the situation to settle and to let her mull his revelation over while healing from the ordeal. Instead, she lashed out in her pained grief, shouting in her tearful rage and getting so angry with him that not even Knockout could calm her down. When she finally stopped to catch her breath, Knockout suggested that she take some time to think things over, to simply let what had happened settle and together they could figure out where to go from there, to ensure that she knew that she wasn't alone in her pain.

Too hurt to think clearly and too overwhelmed with emotion to respond, Swift did the only thing she felt she needed in that moment, without saying another word to Knockout or Ratchet.... She transformed and flew away. She kept flying across the entirety of Cybertron's surface, travelling further and further away from everything until she could fly no further... only to continue this cycle the next day. And the next. And the next... She did not return until a month later, when Iacon was halfway complete in its reconstruction. And she did not return alone...

Since that day, Swift has never forgotten just how strongly Knockout hugged her when she returned to him, or the fact that he requested a pause in their relationship after that to allow them both to heal emotionally and to mentally deal with all that was happening back then. But deep down, Swift knows she hurt him badly, even if it was never intentional.

And deep inside her very core, she wouldn't blame him if he left her the same way she did all those years ago. It would break her and cause her to spiral into a deeper depression than what she felt during her month away, and on every memorial day since, but a part of her feels that she would accept it, that she deserves it for what she put him through.

Of course, seeing him die would break her heart/spark, as any person would when seeing the death of their soulmate... But to see him leave without a word would be the worst kind of pain she could ever feel in her life, due to so many people abandoning her in the same fashion since her childhood, but it would be a pain she would force herself to relive every day as punishment for what she made Knockout go through due to her blind grief-fueled rage back then.

~*~

Thank you for letting me ramble, my friend! ^w^ I really enjoyed doing this, so please feel free to ask me anything else about Swiftwire from the list or from your own curiosity!

[curiouscarllee]

Hello, I'm making a list of my OCs with a bit of art and information! I am doing this because I feel as though I post a lot about my characters without ever providing any detail, so, here you go :) On top of this, I'd like to state that I am always intrested in hearing about your ocs as well, you are more than welcome to send me an ask about them or about my own characters :)

Fairlynn: My Main

Fairlynn is a bosmer, he is the Hero of Kvatch and also Sheogorath. He is a tad unpredictable and has some mental issues in regards to mirroring the mad god and myself. Fairlynn was 28 when he started with saving the world, only 29 when it ended and full of grief with Martin's passing. This drove him to the Shivering Isles in hopes that he could persuade a daedric prince to revive his beloved. That's not at all how it went down, upon noticing this realm was not one of a stronger prince, Fairlynn was tempted to leave the plane but found himself infatuated with it instead.

After a few years, the princes sensed a danger approaching, one in the form of an imperial male that had the possibility of defeating them. Therefore, they agreed to send one of themselves down to nirn in an attempt to stop it. Unfortunately, they chose Fairlynn to get the job done and yeeted him down where the bosmer began to gather enforcments in the form of other people which he thought would become allies when they grew older.. But what he didn't expect was the imperial managed to befriend every. Single. One. Of the people Fairlynn had set on course to hate the man, none of them truly did. That's the exact moment where he went, "if you can't beat em' join em'." And promptly joined the group in his mortal form without revealing to them who he was. Instead the group thinks he's just a skooma addict that is talented in the ways of fighting. They have no idea.

Ragnar

This is that imperial male stated in the last description. This man is destined to destroy the influence of the daedric princes on the mortal people, however, he has the intelligence of a box of rocks and everyone doubts this prophecy to be true. The only time one can possibly think this true is when he displays his power in the midst of battle, he was blessed by the divines at birth, each giving him power to defeat the evil of the world. He his bound to use it.. But he never uses it for good, I mean,, why would he? He could kill anyone he wants! No way he's gonna be the "good hero"! (Basically, this was my brother's character and he used mods to make him op so I had to improvise.)

Past wise, my brother and I decided to intertwine him with the lore. You rememeber the song Ragnar the Red? That was Ragnar's father. In truth, his name should be Ragnar the second or Ragnar Jr. but his mother, Matilda, said "hahahaha, no, your father was a mess and you shall not be him." and removed the second part. After his mother died of a sickness, Ragnar hesitantly moved towns in search of work. He missed his mother greatly and would give anything to have her back.

S'arra

Meet S'arra, she is a khajiit female and the heart of the group (along side another who you'll meet shortly). S'arra is the youngest, she may be sweet but she'll rob you blind if she sees a chance. S'arra came from a happy family in Elsywer, she was the child of F'awn and Ja'zaka, two khajiit with completely different sets of morals. Ja'zaka was a born bandit, he was wild and carefree, F'awn (My friends oc :)) was a gentle and caring woman, she loved to live. When F'awn got pregnant, her brother, J'ar, lost his mind. J'ar was fueled with anger towards Ja'zaka and at one point made an attempt at his brother-in-law's life. It was at that moment J'ar was kicked from F'awn's life, he ran from his home and joined a vampire clan/bandit group in Skyrim.

Only months after her birth, Ja'zaka disappeared. He ran and never came back. F'awn tried her best to raise S'arra, but one morning S'arra was taken from her by a rabid animal that invaded the town. The creature took off with S'arra and lead the small khajiit to it's den where a caravan traveling to Skyrim would soon find her and take her with them, raising her as their own on the roads of Skyrim. The caravan was killed and attacked by a certain bandit group/vampire clan (hahaha, yup, the one J'ar is in). S'arra joined the group in hopes of revenge, although, she'll keep that bit to herself. ;)

Adoren

Now this orc, oh he's amazing. He is an old man, a precious old man with a past of pain and betrayal. In order to introduce his past, we need to introduce his adpoted brother first:

Zanik

This is Adoren's adopted brother, Zanik (grandson of Nellie), a not so nice older man. Zanik was thrown out by his father a young age, more precisely, he was thrown in a river by his father in one of his father's crazed fits. Zanik can't swim, he hates water more than anything else in his life. The dunmer was washed to shore near an orc stronghold where he was picked up by Adoren and adopted by the orcs family. Zanik and Adoren lived happily for many many years, one day they went on an exploration to scout for different hunting grounds. It started to pour causing the two to take shelter in a dwemer ruin. That's when they heard soft groaning and sounds of pain coming from down one of the halls. Hesitantly, they explored. Only to find:

Kidawe

My most lore breaking character! Meet Kidawe, a small snow elf from one of the last remaining villiages of falmer! Now, yes, I am breaking the lore because, since when has canon lore stopped me? Kidawe lived on top of the mountains to the north of Cyrodiil and the South of Skyrim. His village is small and portable, in case they need to move, the tribe of elves is shrouded in mystery, they've managed to live this long and refuse to leave their mountain. Kidawe doesn't listen to that, he runs off each night in search for dwemer ruins, things he find more then interesting. The young elf holds no fear when he's in his element, and he loves to explore. One evening, while in a ruin he is attacked by a vampire/bandit named Raeferth (the leader) who pushes him to join the group, trying to convince the snow elf that his expertise is needed. Kidawe refuses and then engages in battle with the nord, he looses and ends up pinned under a fallen pillar that crushes his arm.

Upon waking up after falling unconscious from the pain, Kidawe is met with the sight of Adoren and Zanik standing over him. After many many months of trust building, the two get Kidawe to befriend them. Kidawe uses their help to fashion himself a new arm from dwarven parts found in the ruin. After a few years, Kidawe disappears. He was taken by force by Raeferth (the others do not know this). Adoren and Zanik are heart broken. They miss their friend greatly.

Adoren/Zanik Pt.2

After losing Kidawe, these two go off and join a bandit group.. Yes the same vampire clan group. Adoren thrives in the group, he his strong and more then willing to get his hands dirty. Zanik.. Not so much. Zanik is only kept around because of Adoren. They all know not to mess with Zanik or else they mess with Adoren.

After spending a few years with them, Adoren decides he can't continue this. Zanik begs him not to leave, trying to make the orc realize that this group will not let them go without hurting them. Adoren doesn't listen and leaves the bandits, later that day the stronghold is burnt to the ground. Adoren looses everything in the fire, his parents pass away, his friends and family. Instead of processing lose normally, he makes it up in his head that the reason Zanik was warning him was because Zanik had a hand in it. Therefore the two fight and Adoren punches Zanik, he's wearing a ring that catches under Zanik's flesh and pratically tears off his cheek leaving the dunmer with a horrible scar. Adoren warns Zanik never to speak with him again.

Which of course doesn't stand because after they grew up into old men, they cross eachother's paths once more. They both join up with the good guy group at different times, Adoren joins first after he finds them in his house, and Zanik joins when he is once again found washed up on the shore.

Zorlin

Not much on this boio, he was my first oc in the Elder Scrolls. He's an argonian heavy set warrior. Zorlin is silent and cut throat, he is a part of the Brotherhood and only joins the good guy group after his brother, Tu'ru is 'murdered' by Raeferth.

Tristane

There is so much on him. I'm just going to do bullet points:

Born in Skyrim 200+ years ago. He never knew his true parents and was instead brought up by a wealthy noble family. They more kept him around for labor.

He befriends 3 local kids, Mayrn (breton like him), Raeferth (nord trouble maker), and Lynik (Raeferth's brother).

They all cause problems and Tristane falls in love with Raeferth :D

One day Raeferth claims to have found immortality, Tristane instantly says "No, I'm not doing this." And leaves the friend group, trying to focus on himself.

He is then framed for a crime he didn't commit and sent to Cyrodiil's Imperial Prison. Then he is bailed out by the Emperor and sent to Morrowind.

Morrowind happens, Tristane changes from whining child to even whiner child with the ability to cast spells.

After Morrowind, Tristane travels to Solstiem where he is confronted with Mayrn and Lynik (both as bandit vampires).

Mayrn and Lynik try to force him back to Skyrim to see Raeferth and join them. Tristane, as he said before, says "no". So they kill him.

Now they don't really kill him, they use a method I made up called Soul Gem Reflection. This is something I completely made up but I like it so sue me. I can write an entire post on this alone so we're just gonne say, "Soul gem reflection is a method in which the targets soul is directed towards an object they held dear in life instead of dying. They're life essence is held in the soul gem, but they live in the object."

In this case, Tristane was reflected in his journal.

Lynik felt horrible for doing this to his friend, he felt guilty and returned the journal which he unknowingly relfected the breton in, and gave it to Tristane's family who in turn stuffed the journal in the basement.

Fast forward 200+ years and Adoren buys the manor, finding Tristane's journal inside and opening it. Surprise! Out springs a ghostly figure of Tristane who then convinced Adoren to take him along with the group!

Other Characters:

This is J'ar. He's mentioned above.

Also, here's some more character that aren't affiliated with the group:

-Baendil and Baendal are bosmer brothers, they were abandoned by their parents and instead found by cranky altmer father Kornan. They're bandits (not related to vampires at all). They're bad, not morally wrong but actually just bad at being bandits. They couldn't rob you even if you asked them to.

-I will add more later I'm sure.

[sweetsweetnathan]

The Imperial Dialogues #4: A Report on the Witch of Doma

"To my friend Varis, Emperor of Garlemald,

I find it extremely unlikely that this letter will ever reach you. I write to you from the improbable location of another world called 'the First'. It is a place much like our own planet, but with a history even more deadly and tumultuous, if you can believe that.

The details of my arrival here are not important. I will tell you of my time in the First soon enough, but before that comes my reason for writing. I have been haunted by a memory for more than a year, and I would have it exorcised unto your judgment. Whether that be the judgment of an Emperor or the judgment of a man, that is not my choice to make. I have only to confess my sins.

You are likely familiar with the viceroy of Doma during the Garlean occupation of the same country: Yotsuyu goe Brutus. She was killed near the end of the occupation, after a Garlean diplomatic mission to Doma went seriously off the rails.

My intelligence tells me that Garlemald knows little of the circumstances behind the viceroy's death, except that she was killed by her brother Asahi. I write to tell you that is untrue. It is not a lie, simply a falsehood pieced together my misunderstanding the circumstances at hand. You see, no living Garlean was in the room at the time Yotsuyu was killed, and as such they can only guess as to what happened to her. But I can tell you exactly what happened.

The truth is, I killed Yotsuyu. And I would submit to you my full report on the matter of her death.

While I expect you know of Yotsuyu's position in your military, I do not expect you to know of her personhood. Did you know that she was a woman? Did you know that she hated her homeland, and took pleasure in seeing her people subjugated? And before you smirk and congratulate yourself for the profound cleverness it takes to expect such things: Did you know that she was sold into sexual slavery by her own family? Did you know that in the last day of her life, the only respite she found from her past a citizen of Doma was when she killed her parents and her brother?

And perhaps, Varis, you find yourself scoffing again. You, after all, have fought blood feuds with family members your whole life. And yet it is for that reason that Yotsuyu's story is remarkable to me. You see, blood feuds between siblings is generally a problem that only afflicts the ruling class of a nation. Whether it be by the divine right of royal inheritance, or the economic right to one's father's estate, only someone born into power need concern themselves with such consuming legacies as would have them kill their own brother.

That is all to say that Yotsuyu is one of the few people on this planet who can claim to stand in your mighty company, Varis, as brother killers.

But when vengeance ran its course through her body, it was not a royal inheritance or paternal estate that brought her low. It was me.

While the exact details of the situation are not terribly important, one thing you must know is that Yotsuyu had been turned into a Primal at the time I was forced to fight her. This is a detail that Garlean intelligence is unlikely to report, as very few who were privy to Yotsuyu's transformation lived to tell of it.

As you might imagine, I had help in dispatching her at this point. Capable though I may be, it was the Warrior of Light who shouldered a majority of the fight's burden. I have fought alongside the Warrior of Light before, even aiding her in dealing with other, lesser Primals. As trying as those battles are, spirits are always higher after them than before them. But not this time.

Something you should know about Primals is that they come into existence to fulfill a certain need. This can be the needs of nature, as with the elemental Primals of Titan and Ifrit. It can be a more complex idea, such as Lakshmi, a Primal of rebirth. In this case, Yotsuyu was a Primal that was meant to act as a bomb. Had she detonated, she would have taken all of Othard with her. She was Tsukuyomi, Primal of self-destruction.

There is something that only those in possession of the echo will be able to see, and even then they will only be able to see it in the presence of a wrathful Primal. In the vicinity of a Primal, reality is the Primal's plaything. All of what we perceive is essentially made of Aether, and Primals are beings borne of Aether. Within their domain they can deconstruct and reconstruct Aether at will. As such, the space a Primal occupies will become warped into an expression of that Primal's will. The Primal as a being and the Primal as the location it occupies will become one in the same. I call this effect an 'Aetheric Interference Field'. Understanding it is critical to understanding what happened to Yotsuyu.

I want to tell you what I saw when Yotsuyu, as the Primal Tsukuyomi, made with this power. I must tell you. I fear that if I carry the burden of this memory inside me for another day without sharing it, my heart may give out from the strain.

In the days leading up to her death, Yostuyu was taken care of and protected by an old samurai named Gosetsu. He was not a man I would expect one of your station to familiarize yourself with, Varis; he was a footsoldier. The kind of person that dies by the million when your army does so much as reposition itself. And very few people know it, but he is the reason why Doma is anything more than a smoking crater.

There was a moment during the fight where the power of the Primal Yotsuyu hosted seemed to leave her. She fell to the ground, an ordinary woman. But while Yotsuyu appeared as a normal person, the Aetheric Interference Field around us remained intact. The Warrior of Light and I found ourselves in the eye of a whirlwind. And from this whirlwind came shadows of Yotsuyu's past.

Her parents, recently murdered, emerged first. They were vengeful shades of their Yotsuyu's memories of them, driven by a hateful desire to punish Yotsuyu for the crime of existing. I expected them to attack me or the Warrior of Light. But instead, they attacked Yotsuyu.

How deeply rooted was this woman's hatred? Hatred for her family, hatred for her country, hatred for herself. When you contract an illness, you can feel where the illness afflicts your body. You can tell yourself 'I know whence the illness ends and my body begins'. In the eye of that hurricane, I think Yotsuyu lost her ability to separate her own hate out from that of the rest of the world. As such, the entire world became one blinding torrent of hate, out of which stepped vile monsters.

The Warrior of Light was the first to move, and I the second. We intercepted the shades and protected the Witch of Doma, for we knew not what else to do. But that was not the end of it. Next came a memory Asahi, more powerful than the ghosts of Yotsuyu's parents. In fact, he was more powerful than the real Asahi could possibly be. That is what indicated to me that these were not reanimated corpses or empowered mortals, but memories reconstructed in Aether.

As such, my heart sunk when I saw the last shade emerge from the storm: Zenos yae Galvus. A man I had fought many times before. Yet it was not a man who stood before me, but a shade of Yotsuyu's fear of that man, granted power by her perception of Zenos as an unstoppable force. Not even the combined might of the Warrior of Light and myself could affect this foe.

I thought it was over. I thought this shade of Zenos would strike down Yotsuyu, and in the process release the destructive power of Tsukuyomi, destroying Doma in the process. But I underestimated the strength of Yotsuyu.

From the very storm that borne Zenos' ghost unto our battle, a memory of Gosetsu leapt forth to protect Yotsuyu. I could not believe it. Was it the real Gosetsu? No, Gosetsu could never cross swords with Zenos and live. He was a memory, like the others, but not a hateful one. He was proof that there was kindness, patience, and forgiveness a world that had otherwise only shown Yotsuyu bitterness.

The Aetheric Interference Field brought us into Yotsuyu's heart, and there we witnessed the death throes of an oft-repeated battle: That between the absolution of hate, and the improbability of love.

Gosetsu and Zenos dueled until both lied dead. And with that, Tsukuyomi's power was expended.

I approached Yotsuyu after the battle ended. I had no illusions about saving Yotsuyu. She was far beyond anyone's healing magics. No, I wanted instead to bear witness to this woman's final moments.

She looked up at me and spoke her last words: 'What's the matter? The Witch of Doma will soon be dead."

More than a year has passed since that day, and still those words haunt me. You and I are soldiers, Varis. We know well that there is a line that you cross, and when you cross it you can't go back. It is a line between life and death. Between love and hate. Between damnation and salvation in one's own heart. It is crossed in the moment of accepting your death, and having death taken from you. It is crossed when one leans too heavily on a comrade who is not long for this world. Once you cross that line, you are no longer the person you were before. You lose faith in the meaning of your own struggles, and as such become cold to the warm feelings of this world. There is no cradle soft enough, nor embrace warm enough, to bring a person back from that despair.

But whatever lines you and I have crossed, we are in possession of a privilege that eludes most soldiers: We can still go home.

Yotsuyu has no such privilege. She was cruel, and evil, and hateful. But it did not have to be so. She was just a girl, not a soldier, yet still she crossed the line many years before she died. I can only hope that wherever she finds herself in the hereafter is a kinder place than where she was born. I hope it feels like home.

Thus concludes my report on the death of Yotsuyu goe Brutus.

-Captain Robyn Sawyer, Alliance Expeditionary Force"

[Hope you don't mind me invoking you again, @whitherliliesbloom]

[spirit-of-vengeance]

After MONTHS, I was finally hit by something that made me completely piece together Rozália's story of what she is and why and I'm HYPER. Aka: here it comes the usual tragedy

Origins:

Attila Véghváry was a descendant of warriors whom protected Hungary throughout the Ottoman period of history, to be able to live up to his ancestors he joined to serve the Vatican as a Hunter. He had fallen in love with a half Italian, half Hungarian woman named Liliána, charmed by her ethereal beauty and kindness. His desire to have children, to continue his name bathed in blood was grand, after wedding they tried, struggled with the task; without success. Liliána was terrified upon her husband's devastation, fearing he will throw her away, back into the clutches of her father and that was a fate she desperately wanted to avoid. So she prayed, begged for a miracle, yet still nothing happened. In her despair and distress, she turned to a darker force; she had made a deal with the devil: she will be able to successfully bear a child, but the child will serve hell after his or her death.

Rozália was born in 1823 and Liliána was gnawed by guilt from her first cry for air; yet she found herself unable to tell anyone in fear of harm. Even though she couldn't give him a boy, Attila was thrilled to have her and began teaching, treating her as a son as soon as possible. He was a harsh teacher with little to no reward to pay off the hard work and Rozália soon learned she has to fight for her father's love and praise.

The Hunter:

It was no question that she will join her father in the quest of banishing evil, Attila couldn't bear to give his only offspring in the hands of Nuns. To everyone's greatest surprise, the young girl proved to be more capable than most of the men, including her own father: fast, fearless, fatal, brutal yet still a tactician. Despite the available arsenal of weapons she favored hussar swords above everything (+ a few must have religious symbols) with her unique twist: she wielded twin blades, instead of the traditional one, earning the title of Doom Duelist.

Rozália only saw the creatures as obstacles between her father's love and well deserved recognition. She never really believed the preachings, she hasn't came to do God's work but to seek her own glory, to carve her own path.

When she could visit her mother, Liliána started to worry upon listening Attila's tales of how efficient their daughter was, instead she saw it as a sign that the devil already begun his work with her violent personality. As a solution when she was home, she turned her attention towards arts and found out her thirst, passion and talent for dancing. Liliána had given her all the love she could in hope it would provide a tiny compensation for Attila's harsh ways. She didn't condemn nor stood in way of her hunt for the so called satanic creatures in hope of that will somehow lessen or even lift the curse she had bestowed on her before she was born.

The General:

The 1848 revolutionary war swept through the country like a wildfire, both father and daughter felt their obligation to protect their country, just like their ancestors did. Her talents shone brilliantly on the battlefields and despite being a woman, she climbed ranks in lightning speed. Eventually, Attila had fallen in a battle and the title General was given to her along with a legion of hussars, the Főnix Légió (Phoenix Legion). Her horse, Vihar (Thunder) was a wild, aggressive mare from the Herd Lipica, since they couldn't get her to accept any of the stallions, they wanted to get rid of the nuisance but Rozália has had other plans.

They understood each other from the very beginning, they moved together as one. Vihar was as quick and strong as if she was a stallion along with her rider. The name General Véghváry was associated with bravery, power and true Hungarian virtue. She often utilized the tactics of ancient battles like barrage of arrows when they were 'fleeing', used the environment to her advantage, quick, devastating strikes usually at the enemy flanks then disappearing into the thin air. She knew her army well, keeping many personal relations since most of the soldiers were almost still children. Strangely, no one ever questioned her command and the legion moved, fought as one.

Birth of the Demon:

The greatest heroes are designated to fall. Her mistake was that she believed fighting for their country, defending it from the Habsburg's rule unified everyone and didn't take betrayal into consideration. The legion was crossing the mountains of Vértes, advancing into uncertain territory when the ambush happened. Rozália knew they are all going to perish, they were in a valley, no space to utilize the hussar tactic, so she set Vihar free and issued one last command: die as heroes. So they fought like caged wild animals but the Habsburg army had the numerical superiority along with the element of surprise. Rozália watched her men, her friends slaughtered, executed the remaining survivors. Even at the door of death, bleeding from numerous wounds she stood defiant and unmoving, refusing to beg or kneel in front of the enemy general. Swords pierced her body, more than she can or want to remember, pinned standing like a grotesque sculpture of glory. Life left her body and sealed the deal. The ground cracked beneath her body, the flames of Hell itself soaring into the woman, resurrecting and possessing her at the same time. The first gasp for breath was ragged, she was confused, furious and lost. So she did what most children would do, immediately returned to her mother's house, only to find her dead with unmistakable evidence of her falling victim to a vampire. Unbeknownst to her, Liliána had written a diary she kept locked away, detailing why she accepted such offer, her sincere apologies and asking for forgiveness for bringing a cursed child to life.

Szerte nézett s nem lelé Honját a hazában*:

Even though she had no idea what she had became, Rozália knew she can't return to the Holy Order, but she no longer fit among humans and due to her Hunter past she wasn't welcome among other creatures. She lost her identity, the war, her home and her beloved mother. She did what she could: survive. Learn what she is and trying to control it. She soon realized her human face is only a mask, when the pendant is separated from her, her appearance shifts: skin cracks until it looks like ash, her veins are glowing orange in contrast, clawed hands, feet, wide jaw filled with razor fangs, crimson eyes with slit pupils and ink black wings curling from her back, almost impossible to tell when the flames morph into feathers.

Rozália is restlessly searching for her mother's killer while trying to figure out what and who is she, struggling to decide between warrior, demon or dancer.

After finishing off all the Habsburg officials (except for the general whom was nowhere to be found even though she tore through the whole country in her fury), she turned her special attention towards vampires in hope of finding her mom's killer. These encounters often ended with death even though the said creature wasn't the cause of her loss. Soon she learned the Holy Order wants to eradicate her from existence, without regard for her outstanding service; she understood she is truly torn between two words and she could never belong to any of them.

Rozália took part in both World Wars, the Korean war, the Vietnam War, numerous crisises throughout Africa and Middle East; to keep herself occupied, to not let the memories of the war pass even though she suffers from minor PTSD from it. When not occupied with bloodshed, she restlessly learned new styles of martial arts and dance styles, throughout the century she has lived many lives in many places: cage fighter, dancer, racer, pole dancer, acrobat, fitness model; anywhere she can get her rush of adrenaline and spotlight. Rozy can't nor want to slow down, she blazes to the utmost, running from melancholy and loneliness.

To save herself from the heartbreak, the must have 'why do you still look 25 even though we've been together for 10 years' talk, and the danger of being hunted by everyone, Rozy doesn't really date. If she feels a mutual spark between her and an another, she is totally down for a one night stand then disappear, leaving only the traces of overwhelming heat and pleasant memories behind.

Power & curse of the Hellfire:

Rozália needs to consume souls to survive. If she refuses, can't find someone unworthy of life, her 'gift' starts to turn against her. The pendant unable to keep up the false facade of a human, the insatiable demon clawing through the surface and ultimately, the Hellfire would consume her, resulting in a second death which would be hell of a record to beat but Rozy is not interested in that.

With the pendant on, the signs of what is she truly are subtle: Her teeth a little too sharp, dagger like stiletto nails as if she just had a manicure, her body heat feverish, candles leaning towards her or burning more eagerly in her presence. The most notable traits her almost overwhelming, smoldering aura and behind her emerald eyes occasionally a glimpse of Hell itself flash, brief enough to make humans believe their mind is only playing tricks.

She has fire under her control, high temperature cause no harm; her cursed flames able to burn through everything and destroy anything in their path including supernatural creatures for whom normal fire isn't fatal. Being destruction itself makes her unable to bear children, not like she would've wanted in the first place.

If she has the mortal remains, she can raise that being back into life for a few hours as an infernal creature, and at full power she can open a portal directly to Hell and reap all the souls nearby though she isn't aware of this ability yet watch her raise her dead army in heartbeat if needed. Both of these actions leave her drained for weeks, unable even to transform so she will only use these as last resort.

@count-v-dracula you might like this :D

@thxwxlf ...you said I am allowed to throw stuff at you😅

[deprssivewriter]

Errors in general and Nye in particular

Thanks to the best bro for motivation (even though you did it unconsciously).

It’s time to talk about concept and characters, yeah. Although today I will pay attention to the most unprocessed of them.

A brief digression: once upon a time there was a boy of fourteen years old and he wanted characters with angel wings. But he not only had given up on the wings, and he'd given the race the stupid name "Errors," and by the time he was twenty, he hadn't come up with anything better. So, in addition to the wings, Errors each have their own curse (there are only a few types, but more on that later). Accordingly, when they are severely or mortally wounded, the curse consumes them (who understood thay understood, who did not understand they will understand). However, even after the resurrection, the curse does not immediately go away, it torments the wearer for another couple of days (depending on the circumstances), while the body slowly recovers. Errors are born rarely from ordinary people, parents see the wings from birth, even though they are like in a hidden state. By the age of 3-4, Errors awaken their first powers, including their wings, and they can no longer keep them hidden, so for the next few years everyone can see their wings until they learn to control them. We continue to develop my insanity, Errors are immortal. You can kill them only by pulling out their wings, all other methods of killing lead only to rebirth. By the way, the Error itself can not pull out the wings, either, they will grow back in this case. It seems that all the most important things are indicated.

Let's go back to the one I originally wanted to write about. Nye. Initially, he was envisioned as a completely neutral character, but quickly enough something went wrong, and he became an asshole, which probably difficult to find. But a recent conversation with bro made me think about him. I really wanted to write something, and I asked her if she wanted to see something from the life of a certain character. She also said that she wanted Nye and Jack(another Error) to meet for the first time, and I was a little upset. It was in my mind in general terms, but I never thought about this moment in detail, however, as well as about Nye. Among all my characters, he is the only one who does not have a prototype from real life. Somehow, he just happens to exist on its own. Among other things, somehow it turned out that he was fucking special. In theory, the first Error appeared due to a freaking major failure in genetics, according to the theory, all the genes there should have been recessive (I'm not a biologist, so I don't quite understand what I'm saying, I warn you right away). Nye, in turn, was born an albino, which is also a fucking glitch in genetics, and with it came a new curse that no one had before. Nye is currently the only carrier of it (and probably the only one, I don't think that he wants to have a child). So, when I thought about him, I tried to put aside all my negative attitude towards him, and realized that in fact he is very strong, and it is quite possible that he was so twisted because of life. He had to deal with all this shit himself (Errpr’s powers, I mean). And even when he was able to find some information, he still had his curse, which no one had ever seen before. And I will remind you that he is an albino, so he periodically got severe sunburn. I also remind you that the curse begins to work when the wearer is seriously injured. His curse is carnivorous butterflies (yes, what will you do to me). They eat away at the place where the wound is, which is accompanied by hellish pain and not the most pleasant sight, in the case of death, the butterflies eat him completely, while he remains conscious for as long as possible (when I imagine what pain he is experiencing, I already wince). And to avoid suffering, he was able to subdue his own curse, which also happened for the first time in the history of Errors.

Nye has learned to spray his body on butterflies and thus travel long distances in a very short time, he has to wear a black cloak so that the sun can not burn him, and in case of which people do not see his rotten, butterfly-eaten flesh. Also, since some butterflies are extremely good at mimicry, he has learned to use them to turn into any person, which is also a great achievement. Let's go back almost to the beginning of the post, where I mentioned Jack. Nye took him away from his family around the age of 7 to take care of him, so that he would not face the same difficulties as Nye himself. Only Jack's family was good, they loved their son, even too much, perhaps even considered it a blessing that their son was an "angel". But Nye took him anyway. My main character, has a theory that maybe Jack's parents were part of a cult that hunted her once (ugh, in short, Error’s feathers are important shit and that very sect catches them as children until they can't control their wings), or at least were going to give it to them, and all their love is ostentatious, so that Jack does not master the ability to hide his wings for as long as possible. Given that I still haven't refuted this theory, it's possible that this is true, and Nye actually saved him (let's skip the point that after a dozen years, he began to treat him). I'm all for what, maybe Nye is just broken, like almost all of my characters. Yes, compared to someone else (I'm talking about the main OC, yes, her name is Tie), his suffering and pain are not so large-scale, but we all have a different psyche, none of us consists of iron or something harder. In addition, in the end, after almost a decade from the main events, Nye still comes to his senses and realizes that he behaved like an asshole.

Up to this point, I have not had any sketches with Nye, except for some very short snatches from the plot, because it is very difficult. It is extremely difficult for me to think like Nye from events of present, he is extremely adept at mixing lies with the truth, so that in the end you involuntarily begin to believe him.

"You know, I almost feel sorry for her. She has everything and nothing — no friends, no homeland, no family… She is a proud person, she never gives up, but her very contempt for death speaks volumes. She has nothing to lose, and she wants nothing but her own death, and she won't get it. Tie is smart enough to understand this and more… She hates us, fights with us, but even so, she understands that the truth is on our side. By blood, she is a person, but by birth she is tied to Errors and **. ***, Yuzuru, and even ****** can be forgiven and accepted. Tie — no, because the hatred of the traitor and betrayal is stronger than the arguments of reason… She knows how to show that she does not care, but she is a living being. She proved to everyone that she was ready to be the best, but it wouldn't change anything… She will live her life with the stamp, so she does not fall in love. Whatever she is, she is afraid that her children will turn out to be Error and live the same life. That they'll live in hell... "The good has sharp fangs" ... that's what Tie once said. Her drinking with *******, her friendship with demons, her lack of fear… God, everyone is afraid, even me, but Tie is not… She seeks her own death, and finds someone else's, " Nye said softly.

I'm sorry, some of the words are censored (?), because I'm not ready to talk about someone’s names yet. Let's go back to the other one. Will you be able to figure out where the lies are and where the truth is, without knowing anything about Tie?

While the real Nye is hard for me, I have a good understanding of the Nye of the future and, as it turned out, of the past. And all this demagoguery I spread only for the sake of the second.

When the curse first consumed me, I didn't immediately understand what was happening. Gradually, the white butterflies of “death" were killing me. I knew I was turning into food for them, but I couldn't help it. I just lay there helplessly, watching as they gradually absorbed my flesh and reached my bones. Everything happened very slowly, and I was conscious until they got to my heart.

But even after the rebirth, they have not disappeared. I didn't want to go through that excruciating pain again, I didn't want to be [eaten] again.

I tried not to get hurt, but it's very difficult, so I started wearing a black raincoat in all weathers to keep the burns to a minimum. That's something.

But in battle, it is more difficult to avoid a blow or even death. In one of these I do not know how, but just for a couple of seconds, I turned into a flock of butterflies, with the help of which I was able to avoid a blow. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but it struck me. And ever since, I've been haunted by the thought that it's Me who can control my curse, not it.

With small steps, I began to master it, first scattering the individual parts of the body, getting used to the sensations and control over each of the butterflies. Then it was more difficult, it was necessary to learn not only to scatter the whole body, but also to spend as much time as necessary in this state. It's very energy-intensive, but I'm sure it will pay off for me.

Maybe with this ability, I can become something special, something more…