#I ain’t proud of my genocides

[lostsoulofdragon]

I found a random plastic skull in my room and I kid you not my first thought was ‘isn’t papyrus supposed to dust eventually?’

I might have a problem. A severe one.

[zyukan]

Sometimes I wonder why I don’t ship satosugu much. Like it’s nice to read, but it ain’t my OTP, which is so strange because I live tragic gay ships (LWJ/WWX for example), and after some thought I think it’s because Geto became an actual villain with morals that are so skewed, and basically left Gojo behind.

Geto’s descent into genocide is 100% understandable and I relate to his fall from grace BUT he chose that life over Gojo. In general, it feels like Gojo is forever chasing Geto, unable to help wanting to grasp the last bits of his “blue spring”, and Geto never reciprocates. That’s the part I have a problem with and personally why, though I do like them together and they make sense logically, they aren’t an OTP of mine.

There’s been many many posts about how Geto was the only one to understand Gojo etc, or saw him as human etc, but that doesn’t matter when that person isn’t in your life to SHOW that to you when you need it. Anyway I’m a proud Gojo simp and I think he deserves to be angry at Geto more than guilty, even if canonically he feels the latter I think.

TLDR: Geto ain’t Gojo’s ride or die, even though Gojo was so ready to be his and I think Gojo deserves better.

[azulas-daddy-kink]

Alright so I know I’ve made some of these points before but now I’m compiling all of my thoughts about Ozai and Ursa’s relationship in one post.

People who do not see Ursa as a victim of Ozai’s abuse and/or delusionally ship Urzai on the basis that Ozai “really loved” Ursa legit fucking scare me.

Ozai did not love Ursa, in any capacity. Ozai does not love anyone. Except maybe himself but he flip-flops on that one, even. 

Ursa did not love Ozai. She was terrified of him. She was taken from her home and forced to marry him - and no, she did not have a choice, not really. Her “choice” was marry Ozai or he kills the love of her life right in front of her. She had about as much of a choice there as Jigsaw’s victims. Starve to death or hack your own foot off, yeah, complete free will.

Then once she married the bastard, she was told she belonged to him, and that she could never see or speak to her family ever again. So romantic, right?

What about this screams “Yes, Ozai, I love you and I can’t wait to have your babies!”

Speaking of, this is more or less implying that Zuko and Azula were conceived as the result of marital rape but y’all ain’t ready for a deep dive into that. Anyone who thinks Ursa could fully consent in this situation needs to have their head examined.

Now backtracking a bit to “she was terrified of him”, let’s not forget this panel!

This is what Ursa looks like when she sees a PORTRAIT of Ozai. A mere portrait. I rest my case.

But alright, I know what some of you are probably thinking. The comics are not canon (except when you want them to be), the comics “retconned” their backstory, or whatever else. I disagree on the last point in particular because that’s not what retconning means. There is nothing, absolutely zero, in the show that contradicts Ozai and Ursa’s comic backstory, or Ozai’s behavior during all of that.

Ozai, in canon, is a genocidal, child abusing, egomaniac. He is shown to have very little regard for others’ feelings, wants, or needs, and only seems interested in his own desires and lust for power. Never once do we see him treating someone with basic respect and consideration, not even his precious favorite, Azula. He manipulates her, he tells her what she wants to hear so that she remains loyal to him but ultimately he views her as a possession - an extension of himself rather than her own person. Which is very typical of narcissists.

Given the way Ozai treats literally everyone else he interacts with, what reason do we have to believe he treated Ursa any differently?

None.

“B-b-b-but what about the fountain?”

Look, I don’t know what it is with this fandom and viewing literally any little thing a character does behind shipping goggles but it is certainly quite annoying.

So here in Zuko’s flashback, we see Ozai standing in front of the fountain, the morning after his father died and Ursa was subsequently banished.

And for some reason, this is used to prove that Ozai loves and misses Ursa which.... what?

A lot just happened over the past 24 hours. Ozai and Ursa murdered his own father for one, and for two, Ozai is coming to the realization that everything he’s ever wanted is now within his grasp. Is it not possible he’s just thinking or clearing his head? I guess that would make too much sense. Is it not also possible that he is mourning the death of his father?

I know, I know Ozai killed Azulon... but it’s complicated. Up until this point, he had desperately been trying to please him. Think of the scene in the throne room, where he’s trying to show Azulon why he is the better son and more worthy of Iroh’s place in the line of succession. And he used AZULA to do it. The child he named after Azulon, his favorite. Declaring that she was “a true prodigy, just like her grandfather for who she is named”. 

Y’all, if this doesn’t scream “Please be proud of me, Daddy!” then I don’t know what does.

It was a bitter pill for Ozai to swallow, I’m sure, that no matter what he accomplished in his life that he would always play second fiddle to Iroh, and that his father would never give him the respect and approval he so desperately craved...

So yeah, gonna go out on a limb here and say this is what Ozai was thinking about. The father he had spent his entire life trying to please was now dead, and he had to close that chapter in his life for good.

Now, before anyone comes at me about the “original series bible”, yes, I am aware that it exists and what it says about Ozai and Ursa. The claim is again that the show and/or comics “retcon” this but I really don’t see how when all that was changed was that she was low-born rather that high-born and/or nobility.

I suppose it’s because people like to cherry pick the line “She was the perfect match for Prince Ozai and soon became his wife.”

Here is the thing about royal marriages - they’re not perfect because they’re love matches, they’re perfect because they are politically savvy and present a certain image to the public.

And not for nothing but these early character concepts and the old Nick website say A LOT of weird shit that never made it into the show or is blatantly untrue but even still, nothing in the above passage disproves the following statement: Ursa is a victim of domestic violence.

Ozai abused Ursa. Full fucking stop. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about it...

HOWEVER...

...the point of this was not to say that people can’t ship Ozai/Ursa or that they can’t have their own headcanons or whatever. The point of this was to say that nothing in canon supports Ozai and Ursa’s marriage as being one of love and mutual respect and in fact, most of what is shown proves the exact opposite.

Ship what you want, it’s okay. Just call a spade a spade. None of this is healthy, loving, or wholesome but it IS sexy. Nothing wrong with that.

Now before someone tries to say I’m a giant hypocrite because “ew you ship Ozula, your opinion doesn’t count”, you’re still completely missing the point here. I would be the first to say that parent/child relationships are abuse, grooming, non-consensual, and morally reprehensible. I’m not out here trying to say this is an ideal relationship or that this is okay to do.

And that is the difference.

[fence-macabre]

Scales of Eidolon - Finale

The Lost Glacier faded away like a lost dream, left behind in the frigid and death-filled waters of the North Sea and once again shrouded in a heavy mist of frost. Would anyone truly know of the great deed Fence Macabre had been part of? Would anyone believe them? A blink and everyone was back on the shores of the Burnished Mire.

Stepping back into the Inn, bustling with unusual business, Fence Macabre is met with many familiar faces. Word traveled fast across the small scattering of islands of the resounding success on the Lost Glacier - and of Fence Macabre’s soon departure back to the mainland.

The Scales of Eidolon were all present, as well as Salix. On one side of the inn, Salix and his mother Vivistrasza were conversing with Barclay and Zaïd from the Explorers’ League. The other side of the room were the trio of elderly tarasek - Kisha, Elash, and Tessk - unsure to be around so many of the other dragonflights but happy to see their friends off.

Remington approaches Ilvaia,

“So why’d ya keep bein’ one ‘a the Blacktalons under wraps? Coulda just told us right from the start and would’ve given us more confidence in our deal.”

Ilvaia admits that she assumed that Fence Macabre had already figured her out, but she was mistaken. She explains further that the locals know of her as a Blacktalon deserter.

“I left Wrathion’s service a year ago. I only recently arrived back in the Dragon Isles.

At first I attempted to make the Mire a safe place for Wrathion and Sabellian subordinates to get away from the infighting … Of course, the second I was recognized people from both sides began comin’ at me. The Blacktalons were fearful that I might reveal Wrathion’s secrets, and Sabellian’s people wanted those secrets.

I’m sure you noticed some of my visitors were sometimes … unruly.”

Ilvaia laments on the discovery that her brother Fahrad had been slain by Wrathion many years prior and his genocide against the Obsidian flight - becoming disillusioned by Wrathion and being unfamiliar with Sabellian. She disappeared into Hillsbrad in pursuit to recover her brother’s remains and those of Mostrasz - in turn, gaining the trust of the Gilded Caldera’s Ruby dragons. Ilvaia digresses … She feels comforted in her grief being channeled into something she believes Fahrad would be proud of.

Ilvaia further points out that the parcel Fence Macabre has been carrying the entire time wasn’t even from a Blacktalon agent - the parcel isn’t sealed correctly. She empties the contents of it, revealing sand and worthless shore rocks.

It seems Fence has been misled from the very beginning.

Ilvaia chucks the bag up into the darkness of one of the upper bunks in the inn.

“Is that the best you can do?”

A hand reaches out to snatch the empty bag and a figure jumps down - it’s Balisonria - the young elven woman who stowed away on Fiona’s Pride and gave Fence Macabre the parcel at Sterling Reach!

Balisonria asks how Ilvaia knew she was up there and Ilvaia retorts that Bali is sloppy at sneaking. Balisonria scoffs and then formally introduces herself as a young black drake who was waiting around for a Blacktalon agent to reveal themselves. Ilvaia asks if she still wants to meet with the Blacktalons. Bali shakes her head.

“No. I think I heard enough. Ain’t interested in meetin’ the Black Prince anymore.”

She pays Fence properly with gleaming, illimited diamonds. Each one could easily pay for year’s worth of wages and then some. No more tricks, no more deception.

Ilvaia smirks at the young drake. “So what now, Little Flint?”

Balisonria thinks on this question for a moment.

“I dunnae. I never thought it’d turn out this way. Guess I gotta come up with another plan and figure some o’ me stuff out first.

In the meantime, can I stay with ye?”

“As long as you like.”

The rest of the evening is filled with cheer, good food, cold drinks, and promises of meeting again among new lifelong friends.

For some of the Fence Macabre, the longing for home overwhelms any other feeling. For others, this is only the beginning, the igniting spark of bigger adventures abound of what else awaits on the Dragon Isles.

But, for this chapter, we draw to a close.

Fence Macabre will remember these glorious days fondly. Times of overcoming hardships, stepping up to challenges, forging friendships, mending hearts, saving souls… but most importantly - having a hand in the creation of something truly and wonderfully spectacular.

The Scales of Eidolon.

[overgrownmoon]

i was gonna put this in the tags but fuck it, i’ll be a big brave boy and put this in the post.

i have a very complicated relationship with myself and my culture, as a white american. first thing to say is yes, i do have a culture! the southern USA has a really rich culture! i love bbq and cowboys and calling all sodas “coke”! but the list of things i like is comically small to the things i don’t, or things i feel are missing.

i feel very disconnected from my idea of what culture should be. for one, the fact that culture has been so commodified here that it feels so corporate and is disconnected from being personal. take christmas; i hate the american culture around christmas! and it’s sad bc there are things i love about the holidays, like seeing family and friends and the traditions my family has, and yet i feel no joy when the holidays start bc i can’t stand christmas music and every store trying to sell me shit even harder than usual. culture isn’t something you buy, and yet that seems to be exactly what has happened; you Participate in Culture by Buying The Culture Package. that sucks.

the second thing is that i feel very disconnected from any sort of past history. i envy folks with deep connections to their past bc i despise mine. dude, i’m a white american, and i’m not proud of my ancestors actions. i condemn them. i want nothing to do with them. so what do i have left? i feel like there’s a hole, there, where a sense of historical identity and belonging is supposed to be; i feel as if i have no identity to belong to. frankly, why would i want to identify with a long history of oppression, slavery, and genocide…

i suppose when i think about it and boil it down, i feel lonely and isolated from feeling as if i belong to a group, and loathe the idea that culture can be bought at wal-mart. i don’t want to have my culture sold to me, i want to make it! and there’s the answer to my complaints, i know; if i want culture, if i want identity and community, traditions i care about and feel belong to me, i have to make them. i can’t expect it to be given to me. but that’s hard, it’s really hard to break out of the status quo, and that sucks. i wish it was already done for me, but it ain’t.

i’ll get some cowboy boots and get to work, i guess.

There's a phenomenon in left-wing circles where initially reasonable statements and concepts get repeated ad nauseum until they not only lose their meaning but transform into deeply bigoted ideas.

The idea "there is no single white culture," is true because white is a concept created to describe the powerful position in Western societies. There are many different cultures, who's members are often white. But this idea became "white people have no culture" which is just not true, deeply dehumanizing, and harmful, especially to people who look white but experience marginalization because of their culture.

Another example might be cultural appropriation, which perhaps should be understood as a misrepresentation or exploitation of the cultural practices of another, especially where the person exploiting does so for personal gain, without acknowledgment. But now, people have basically transformed this into "when somebody does something from a culture they weren't raised in" or "when a particular race or ethnicity behaves in a way that's different from how they normally do" which promotes racial and cultural stereotypes and attempts to control the behaviors of people based on their race, ethnicity, and culture.

[toukatan]

some manga reading comments of my man so far (till ch132)

"Titan falco looks like a turkey"

"Dunno what's worse. erens or zekes plan"

me: dude, thats genocide vs castration...

"oooh armin got his gf back 😏" aruani nation 👏👏

*laughs at reiner getting beat by jean*

"jaw titan falco still looks like a turkey"

"margath and shadis are bros 👊"

*every aruani scene* "awww 😊"

"are those titans swimming???"

"Eren looks like a birdcage. how does he move??"

"thank you mikasa for killing floch 😍"

*commander armin* "thats my boy👊. but hanji 😕"

*laughs his ass off at the fact that levi is armins subordinate 🤣*

���TITAN FALCO LOOKS LIKE A TURKEY’ — PL E ASE HES RIGHT.

‘laughs at reiner getting beat by jean’ — i. please that was the most heated conversation 😭🤚🏻

‘margath and shadis are bros’ — he didn’t cry? he just called them bros and called it a day? THAT ISH WAS SO ANGST PLEASE

‘are those titan swimming?’ — IF THAT AIN’T ALL OF US WITNESSING TITANS SWIM WHJSHWS PLEASE I WANNA ASK YAMS SO MANY QUESTIONS BOUT THIS

‘eren looks like a birdcage’ — my god he birdcage, spider, ribs, dinosaur lmao what next

‘thank you mikasa for killing floch’ — amen to that

not the roller coaster of chapter 132 like what are we meant to feel? the whole chapter be like 📈📈📉📉📈📉📈📈📈📉📈📉📉📉

i still laugh about that— levi is like the squads dad but armin’s now the leader like he’s probably proud because armin’s his son agajdhw

i see he is an aruani stan. chi mai your man has good taste because he’s gonna get more aruani food soon BUT I LOVE HOW EVERYONE JUST GOES AWEE AT ARUANI SGIDHWJSNS THEY REALLY DO BE MAKING EVERYONE SOFT

i see he enjoys being a manga reader now, as he should welcome to the suffering side 😌🤚🏻

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from the movie “Dogma”

“I’m as anatomically impaired as a Ken doll.”

“May I continue uninterrupted?”

“Mention something from a Charlton Heston movie and suddenly everyone’s a theology scholar!”

“Read that book again sometime. Women are painted as bigger antagonists than the Egyptians and Romans combined. It stinks.”

“So you were an artist? Big deal.”

“That’s why he’s the King, and you’re a schmuck.”

“ I repeat; this is not a drill. This is the Apocalypse. ”

“ We call this piece "The Fecalator.” One look at it and your target shits him or herself.“

” I just love to fuck with the clergy, man, I just love it.“

"Let’s kill people.”

“Ah, Sweet Jesus! Did you have to use the whole can?!”

“Or you’ll do what exactly? Hit me with that…fish?”

“Honestly, you bottom feeders and your arrogance, you think everybody’s just trying to get in your knickers.”

“Do you go around drenching everybody that comes into your room with flame-retardant chemicals?”

“I am to charge you with a holy crusade.”

“What’s the fine print?”

“I hate when people need it spelled out for them!”

“We’re here to pick up chicks.”

“Well, it’s a lot more compact than the flaming sword, but it’s not nearly as impressive.”

“How am I supposed to strike fear into the hearts of the wicked with this thing? ”

“What work did you do? You lit a few fires.”

“Mass genocide is the most exhausting activity one can engage in, outside of soccer.”

“You’re a man of principle.”

“We figure an abortion clinic’s a good place to meet loose women.”

“You’ll offer us sex as a reward?”

“Fucking Breakfast Club; all these stupid kids actually show up for detention.”

“Movies are fucking bullshit.”

“This is gonna sound really bad. I can’t believe I’m even thinking about this, but…”

"Someone told me I’d meet you and you’d take me some place I was suppose to go.”

“I feel like Han Solo, you’re Chewie, and she’s Ben Kenobi and we’re in that fucked up bar!”

“She’s the slut. Booong!”

“All right, well lets say we’re caught in a situation where we have like five minutes left to live. I don’t know, a bomb or something’s gonna go off; would you fuck us then?”

“Tell me something nobody knows.”

“When you do it, you’re thinking about guys.”

“Wars, bigotry, televangelism.”

“You’re saying having beliefs is a bad thing?”

“My eyes are open. For the first time, I get it.”

“Ours was designed to be a life of servitude and worship, and bowing and scraping and adoration.”

“You know, all I’m saying is that maybe one of us needs a little nap…”

“I think we may have to dispatch our would-be dispatchers.”

“See, don’t let your sympathies get the best of you. They did me, once. ”

“I’ve heard a rant like this before.”

“I have seen what happens to the proud when they take on the throne. ”

“Would you - could you - have believed me? You had to come to it gradually. Only now, after all you’ve seen, could you accept the truth.”

“I don’t want this. It’s too big.”

“It’s unfair! It’s unfair to ask a child to shoulder that responsibility, and it’s unfair to ask you to do the same.”

“I wish I could take it all back. But I can’t. This is who you are.”

“Everything I am is a lie.”

“No one can take that away from you, not even God. ”

“I guess this means no more cheating on my taxes.”

“Come on, demon, I wanna see you try that shit on someone who’s already dead!”

“And the pawns are moving into place as we speak…”

“But then your kind came along, and made it so much worse.”

“But true to his irresponsible nature, man won’t own up to being its engineer, so he blames his dark deeds on my ilk!”

“I’d rather not exist than go back to that…and if everyone has to go down with me, so be it.”

“The whole fucking world’s against us, dude, I swear to God. ”

“If I had a dick, I’d go get laid.”

“I think that God is dead.”

“I can’t wait to die.”

“Do you know what makes a human being decent? Fear.”

“I’m responsible for nineteen of the twenty top-grossing films of all time.”

“The humans have besmirched everything bestowed on them.”

“Don’t you think it’s time we went home?”

“No pleasure, no rapture, no exquisite sin greater… than central air.”

“What the fuck is this shit? Who the fuck are you, lady? Why the fuck did you hug my head? ”

“What the fuck is this, The Piano? Why ain’t this broad talking?”

“You of anyone should know that tits don’t make a woman.”

“But I’m a fuckin’ demon.”

“Guys like us just don’t fall out of the fucking sky, you know.”

“Beautiful, naked, big-titted women just don’t fall out of the sky, you know.”

“You’re Catholic, can’t you talk to them?”

“Consequences schmonsequences.”

“Snootch to the motherfuckin’ nootch!”

“Let it never be said that your anal-retentive attention to detail never yielded positive results.”

“You can’t be anal-retentive if you don’t have an anus. ”

“Ladies and gentlemen, you have been judged guilty of sinning against our almighty God, and I promise you, you shall pay for your trespasses, in blood!”

“I’m feeling a little exposed here…”

“Wings, now!”

“I know they were just kids, but we kicked their fucken pube-less asses!”

“Anyone who isn’t dead or from another plane of existence would do well to cover their ears right about now.”

“Are you saying you believe?”

“I’m telling you, man, this ceremony is a big mistake.”

“Go back to your paper routes, you Mighty Duck fucks.”

“Very basic strategy. If your enemies know where you are, then don’t be there.”

“Your continued existence is a mockery of morality.”

“You’re his father, you sick fuck.”

“You, on the other hand, are an innocent. You lead a good life.”

“You have more skeletons in your closet than the rest of this assembled party. I cannot even mention them aloud.”

“You’re awfully nude.”

“You know, maybe you’re wrong about this slaughter thing.”

“The major sins never change.”

“What, are you insinuating that I don’t have what it takes anymore?”

“Get me a… Holy Bartender.”

“Not born. SHIT into existence.”

“I can take anyone I meet and give a zillion and nine ideas a second, but I can’t keep any for myself.”

“I have issues with anyone who treats God as a burden instead of a blessing.”

“You people don’t celebrate your faith; you mourn it.”

“Your hearts are in the right place, but your brains got to wake up.”

“You were martyred?”

“I can’t believe we forgot about the magazine.”

“Smoke that motherfucker like it ain’t no thang!”

“NOBODY IS FUCKING ME! YOU GOT THAT!?”

“If you don’t pipe down, I’m going to yank your sack off like a paper towel.”

“Your hard-on for smiting has prevented us from negotiating what should be the relatively simple matter of catching or staying on a bus.”

“Well, I say we get drunk, because I’m all out of ideas.”

“Oh no, I’ve seen way too many Bond movies to know that you never reveal all the details of your plan, no matter how close you may think you are to winning.”

“You’re looking at eons of repression getting purged.”

“If only they’d let us jerk off.”

“Quit killing people, that’s high profile.”

“So do you do anal? Is it true that chicks fart if you blast ‘em in the ass?”

“The man was right about you. And I am going to go home and tell him so.”

“Quit leering at me. People are gonna think I just broke up with you.”

“You know, I hear pregnant women can have sex until their third trimester.”

“You’re a pure soul… but you didn’t say "God bless you” when I sneezed.“

"Holy shit, it’s the Pope!”

“Ever the fucking apple polisher!”

“Hey Big Bird! Wanna play the Counting Game? Count the shells, Sucker Duck!”

“Snoogans.”

“So this is all about revenge.”

“After the first couple million years, escape from hell became my all consuming reason.”

“You mean, I’m pregnant?”

“You think someone threw him out of a plane with a message written on him like in Con Air? You ever see that flick?”

“It’s the living dead! Kill it! Kill it!”

“Wait a second! Between guys with wings, guys falling out of the sky, and guys trying like hell to fuck me, I think I’ve been pretty patient so far, and I’m not taking another step until you tell me where the hell you came from!”

“I came from Heaven.”

“Is this why I had to come down here this morning, man? Is this why I had to miss my fucking cartoons?”

“Let me give you a little inside information about God.”

“People die for it, people kill for it.”

“His piece will be rubbing inside of your armor!”

“You know ,death is a worry of the living. The dead like myself only worry about decay and necrophiliacs.”

“I told them I was coming up on a routine possession.”

“'Makin’ with the love.’ It’s a nice way of saying boning.”

“Do I come off as gay?”

“I got half a stock when she kissed me.”

“I hope you’re the skeeball type.”

“Bow down, stupid!”

“It never ends!”

“What the fuck happened to that guy’s head?!”

“She’s a clever girl, that one.”

“You ready to make some of those changes I’ve been talking about?”

“One of the drawbacks to being a martyr is that you have to die.”

“All is being taken care of.”

“Why are we here?”

*touches nose and makes funny noise*

“I told you she was a woman.”

“She’s not really a woman. She’s not really anything.”

“She’s something alright.”

“Are you saying you believe?”

“Crisis of faith over?”

“Why don’t you name the kid after me?”

“We’re in Mexico?”

“I couldn’t help it, the bitch was hot!”

“You know, you can’t talk to me like that anymore, I’m gonna be somebody’s mother.”

“Yo, we should go to Quick Stop.”

[weaselbeaselpants]

That Krispy Cat: A Warning, part 3

The last of the images cause I don’t want this bitch on my computer anymore. 

Knowing tumblr I kept the images hidden JUUUUST in case no one reads the fine print and can’t tell I’m being critical of this and gets me in trouble.

VVV ((Just in case you thought the JewishGriffon piece assured everyone that Crispy couldn’t POSSIBLY hate people of color, some of her earliest Nazi art had her character Klaus beating up Amigo Bear. She also made Amigo into a liberal strawman. )) VVV

((Dialogue to one of her TROLLARIOUS pictures that featured Amigo:

Amigo Bear: *muttering* "Your leader was a !@#$% little #@%^!@$^*!, you fascist feather duster..." General Klaus: "Fräulein, Ich vant you to cover your ears und shut your eyes as tight as you can." Crispy: "How come, General?" General Klaus: "Klaus ist about to say und do very bad sings zhat he does not vant his little Edelweiß to see or hear." Crispy: "Alrighty!" General Klaus: "WHO SAID ZHAT ABOUT DER FÜHRER? WER DIE FICK GESAGT? WHO'S ZUH SCHLEIMIG LITTLE COMMUNIST-SCHEISS SCHWANZLUTSCHER DOWN ZHERE, WHO JUST SIGNED HIS OWN DEATH VARRANT? NIEMAND?! GOTTVERDAMMT STALIN SAID IT! HERVORRAGEND! VHICH VUN OF YOU VANTS TO BE ZUH FIRST TO FIND OUT ZUH HARD VAY VHY MEIN FEINDE CALLED MIR DER BUTCHER BIRD?" ))

^^^ ((BUTOPHERARTISGOODSOYOUCAN’TCOMPLAIN

also the disc. for this pic before it was deleted had a ‘joke’ about cooking Jews in ovens. Oh and yes, that IS Hitler she’s giving that ugly ass cupcake too.))

^^^ (( - Thanks dA I never would have known I had a notifications unless eclipse blah -

This is one of her rants about how #Triggered she is that Starlight be compared to the Nazis when she runs a communist cult. Because A) that’s the real problem here and B) I too get upset when people say my OC is based on Jeffrey Dahmer when he’s so CLEARLY based on Ed Gein, Bwwwaaaah D> D> D> !)) ^^^

VVV ((Ugly art of her friend’s awful OCs.)) ^^^

VVV ((Crispy showing off why no one wants to be a patriot in our country.)) VVV

((FYI, Crisp, that attitude will make the Hamilton fans stronger so just keep that SJW-flinging coming you little SJW.

WHAT?! Social Justice is a broad term and as Crispy’s plainly demonstrated, you can circle it around and make a majority-class sound like the real underprivledged if you have enough fancy frou frou know-how and furries. Also, if a Social Justice Warrior constitutes someone who takes their cause soooo seriously that they’re annoying/petting/cruel/stupid about it....idk I think Crispy qualified.))

^^^ ((Crispy and her friend muse about what other races occupy the world of MLP in her headcanon. This, more than any other dA disc. and picture shows you her brand of “Segregationist-Nationalism is OKAY” thinking, cuz the art of these different races isn’t super offensive or cruel and neither are the characters. BUT if you scratch under the surface you’ll find that Crispy really likes these different people staying in their place and not in “someone else’s” country.

THEN, this same kind of thinking is used to convince you any mix of cultures is just cultural appropriation, again acting like she and her Nazi-stans are the only ones standing up to actual bigotry.)) VVV

^^^ ((Crispy makes the world a worse place by bringing up actual decent points; like how Americans dress Thanksgiving up as progressive and for the natives when we all know that’s not true...all to better her worldview.

fyi, GET OUT whenever you see a selfproclaimed Nazi fawn over Native Americans, because: Nazi Germany had a deep fascination with American Indians and used their struggles about their land being taken away from them to justify their eugenic genocide.)) ^^^

^^^ (( Crispy laughing it up on Furaffinity how she couldn’t be banned from her Furaffinity and then mysteriously never using her site there wowie.)) ^^^

^^^ (( Crispy complaining about SOPA cause her freedom of speech and blahblahblah.

Freedom of Speech is important. Unfortunately what people like Crispy don’t understand or care for is there’s no freedom of consequence. )) vvv

VVV ((LOL Joseph Mengele was such a stinkah let’s tell blithe jokes about him. At least WE AREN’T LIKE HIM!!!)) VVVV

VVV ((Early onset eugenic BS from her Spyro stuff that would be easy to miss if you didn’t know what this woman was talking about)) VVV

((Crispy admitting she thinks gays are pointless cuz they don’t reproduce but apparently loves them anyway. Also big shock Crispy’s seen Hetalia.)) VVV

VVV ((Crispy probably wanting Weeaboos to attack her cuz aren’t Japan’s animations so laaaaaaazy?!!?!? GUUdd think’ I’m a naziaboo! Germany’s never made any shitty animation evah. You know what, I lied. She doesn’t deserve Hetalia. She just doesn’t.)) VVVV

VVV ((Crispy dragging Brazil down with her as the apparent “Best South American Country”. Yikes.)) VVV

VVV ((More “it’s trolling ergo it’s not harmful” shit. Bulgarians probably do deserve their own Care Bears, but they certainly don’t want yours Crispy.)) VVV

VVV ((Disc. for her Richard Spencer bear art)) VVV

------

I know, I know...this isn’t what you wanted to read today, guys. I know it’s offensive and I’m sorry if it made you ill. I also know I’m putting my own blog under fire by showing these images here but I think that should say something about dA’s bad policies that this art gets a filter slapped on it and nothing more when the artist is blatantly pro-fascist.

Crispy resonates with me so much - and no it’s not cause I DARED to be “triggered”.

It’s because, for one, she was talented. I MEAN I HAVE EYES! That’s some nicely drawn digital stuff I’m not gonna deny. She had some cool rewrites and sequel ideas that, had it come from someone else I would have eaten up and faved to hell and back onceupona2012. But I didn’t, where a ton of MLP and furry fans did because they undervalued their own talents and would say “well it’s pretty who cares about the message?” 

Unlike so many commercial+published artists, it’s REALLY hard to separate the art from the artist here because the artist is so connected and a part of her art and storytelling. If you fav her art, even if you didn’t like her, that was telling Crispy she’d won. It’s so defeating to have other artists say their gonna ignore their gut for the sake of prettypretty-Don-Bluth style art. And yes, that stigma DOES affect my view on 2D purists btw.

Crispy was so holier than thou’, and that attitude also was appealing to dA folks, not to mention her knowledge of art history by the time she dropped off the radar. Crispy was the kind of person who’d make long, detailed, justified rants against the design and color choices in Hazbin Hotel and then a bunch of antis would eat her redesigns up only to learn the awful truth later and embarrass themselves cuz they were so taken up by the craft they didn’t know they were reblogging a fucking Nazi.

Not to underplay Viv’s wrongdoings of course, but I’m sorry; the two aren’t comparable on the problematic artist meter. THAT’S HOW BAD CRISPY WAS.

If this somehow was just a faze and she’s come to her senses or doesn’t really think this shite she preaches...I don’t care. She said some vile shit and fuck no I’m not forgiving her. It’s like KenDraw or Shadman. You’ve changed your life around and realized you’ve done/drawn nasty shit that’s done real harm? Cool....I’m still not talking or ever promoting you, ya dingbat. You ain’t no Roman Polanski or Doug Tennaple. You’re a singular internet artist and any support of the project has to go to you - and you suck!

ThisCrispyKat was a wakeup call that showed me these people not only still exist but will be allowed to get away with it. I was very touchy bout this kind of thing back in the day. Fuck, I STILL AM TOUCHY. The rabbit holes I found thanks to Crispy opened up to reveal communities where people think my hair color’s going extinct. People would detail how much they wanted to rape me - a natural blonde - and kill my friends and family for not looking like me. That they want to jerk off in my naturally curly hair and see me in glowy German princess gowns preparing them dinner.

Crispy and other Nazistans would look at me; a blond-haired blue eyed Polish/German American woman and think I need to be “fixed” because I DARE to repeat propaganda that the Nazis were bad. They’d call me a traitor for thinking that celebrating the Nazi party ISN’T German pride.

HOW DARE YOU TELL ME THAT’S GERMAN PRIDE! I’LL SHOW YOU GERMAN PRIDE YOU EGOSTROKING-LIMPDICKED ATTENTION WHORES.

People like Crispy make it 1000x harder to actually show interest in German things. Because I AM interested in German shit btw.

Like for real: it’s a country I’d love to visit one day (at least the black forest, which is where my mom’s fam comes from). I love German art and German fairytales slap. I really do want to explore my heritage through art and stuff.

But guess what? Much as Crispy would argue to the contrary I DO know my WWII history and beyond and FUCK YOU if you honestly think jerking it to cuddly Nazi-furs is empowering or just “showing your interest in history”. Take your own advice and read a god-damn book.

TL;DR: I DO NOT have to be proud of Nazis to enjoy German culture and if you think otherwise, FUCK YOU. It’s a slap in the face to everyone even if you are ‘just trolling’ and it in no way values actual German’s feeling on the matter. It’s annoying how people undervalue real people just for the sake of fan art.

The Nazis were evil. They were racist, eugenic-genocidal idiots who killed over six million Jewish people, Romani, Slavs, Jehovahs Witnesses, disabled people, Poles, homosexuals and prisoners of war. They would have killed my dad’s side of the family if they were in Poland at the time. They made bullshit tanks that killed the people making them and didn’t work on the battlefield. Their leader was a fat, farting one-testicaled bastard who preferred animals to people.

They ruined everything for everyone and then took the easy way out, leaving the Germans that were left in the hands of the also-genocidal Soviets and Americans. Germany is still paying their war debts and now, 70-80 years later everyone else wants to laugh off this dark period of history with memes and forget what they did, and as such, are forgetting the victims of the genocide.

I have 0 tolerance for Nazi things for the sake of HUMANITY, let alone the individual groups they target. I don’t have to have German ancestry or know a single Jewish person to tell you any of this. It’s fucking history.

Eat shit.

[azoreaneve]

Well you asked for it… [cracks knuckles]

Fuck if Tats’s tantrum is the same as in the webcomic then it’s not the end of the world to read… all in a row. There, it was some light-hearted character growth which, given the bleaker nature of that story, is generally welcome. But then add the Fubuki shit with Psykos and that part of the manga looks so unpleasant to read through. Fuck I wasn’t reading it and it was still annoying to live through (can you tell I hate the manga renditions of the psychic bitches? Yea)

Still, big lmao at you just deleting the review. For how long was that WIP sitting around?

My issues with Genos’s design atm are that we’re losing his original characteristics. One of the most enjoyable things about seeing the kid return from the car shop is seeing his new wardrobe choices. The cowboy boots, the Genocide T-shirt, that amazing white jacket from the MA arc, the hoodie from the Garou fight, the black turtleneck…. He’s proud and he enjoyed looking good, and we had that repeating joke of seeing his fashion get ripped/burnt/dissolved whenever he got into a bad fight.

So now we see him wear less and less clothes (in both versions of the story) and it’s sad to see that side of him go, as much as it makes logical sense, what with all the shit he can have on his back and arms now and him probably getting real tired of buying new clothes. Additionally, in the manga his design is… like a generic non-descript skintight suit kinda armour….. there’s no soul to it, no intricate hardware details for me to jack off over… I literally have tons of saved panels from early OPM of like closeups of Genos’s hands because of how cool they looked and now the thought of doing such a thing doesn’t even cross my mind, he just looks very meh. ALSO we already have a guy who pulls off the final form of that look with much more flavour.

I don’t think these 2 things will get fixed the next time Kuseno gives him a makeover.

The brunt of my issues with the webcomic vs manga changes are the ending of the MA arc. It was too over the top in a completely redundant way. You know how we all go through a phase of enjoying “what if cute fairytale…. but edgy dark, amirite?!”. Well OPM manga doesn’t need it because we already have the slightly darker world in the webcomic. The manga also especially doesn’t need it when you then go “lmao syke!!”, insert some bogus time travel shit, and then make everyone involved forget it AND THEN MAKE GENOS LEARN ABOUT IT THROUGH THE POWER OF LOVE OR SOME BULLSHIT WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ABOUT. Like, I’m sorry, but my suspension of disbelief ain’t reaching those levels. I called this resolution when Genos FUCKING DIED and I hated it from that point already because now the next time he dies, or anyone else important dies, we’ll all have copium ‘till the end of days because WHAT IF WE GO BACK IN TIME AGAIN GUYS, WHAT IF SAITAMA PUNCHES THE BADDIE BACK INTO LAST TUESDAY AND EVERYTHING IS FINE!!!.

And after that we go back in line with the webcomic, you know, the universe where Genos and Saitama are kinda more jerks towards one another? Because they had less teambuilding experiences? So anyone who’s not aware of that just sees their relationship fluctuate like hell in the manga for seemingly no reason, one day Saitama is like “wow you’re great you’ve grown so much” and on the next he’s “I remembered I’m tired of living with you so I don’t wanna see you bye”. You can argue that Saitama’s mental disposition easily leads to avoiding ppl like this but hhhhhhh idk man I still don't like it…

Also obligatory “Fubuki looked tons better in the webcomic” comment. And I’m worried about what they’re gonna do to the new cyborg girl because knowing Murata she’s also gonna have huge tits now or something, le sigh.

hungry fans

It sucks to be an OPM fan with a keen interest in only one or two characters. Because ONE will make sure that there's enough of your favourite characters to give you a feast and hook you, and then he'll move on and you're left starving for ages.

So far, I can identify several hungry tribes of fans:

A: The Sam Fam Crew

Recently been fed, so they're not weeping too much. But unless Iaian finds a way for them to stick around now that Atomic has declared a training camp from hell, they'll shortly be tightening their belts again.

B: The Nin-Nins

A few appetizers here and there, but nothing solid of late. True to their nature, the ninjas are proving elusive.

C: The Absolut Zeroes

Ah, Drive Knight, when shall we see your black and shiny shifty-eyed self again? You left so suddenly and quite broke our hearts.

D: The GrooGroos

Now ONE has been known to drop characters like a needy friend when he's done telling their story. With Garou still having work to do to understand himself and actually do better, this tribe got its hopes up of seeing Garou regularly. So far, this is the last he was seen (a full year ago):

There are many other smaller tribes, but these are the loudest ones on the internet, bravely boycotting new chapters until they get what they want.

Me? I may have my favourites, but I love them all so I'm always fed. :) OPM doesn't work without a large cast of well-realised characters.

[mrsunderhill678]

Hehe, more writing

“Not all darkness equates to tragedy, just look at the night sky. Despite it's darkness, it's still beautiful, and isn't it the same with us?" - Romena Sunfritz

“That's all war is. A twisted blood sport for the powerful to watch, is that all we fucking are, huh? A God damn spectacle? There's thousands dead on either side, soil so stained with blood it ain't ever washing clean of that crimson, but you claim this is for a good cause? To hell with that, to hell with the country, to hell with you, and to hell with me. Damn, us, all.” - William Phoenix

“The world is quiet but even violence goes by softly spoken.” - William Phoenix 

“I was eluded by the dark, wrought with passion and addiction, I danced within the illusion of love, lost within a resplendent delusion. And oh, now, here I stand, my heart aggrandized by the dark, swindled into the illusion that this is my purpose, my destiny.” - Alden Delafontaine

“Am I sick, or am I twisted? For I am starting to believe there is no cure, and I am simply twisted in nature.” - Alden Delafontaine

“This world isn't fucking cold, dude, we're just turning our backs to the flame.” -- Rocky Bellot

“I used to say, I'd light a match, just to feel the fucking flame, that I was Pinocchio, rotting in the shop, but perhaps, now, I'm Jipedo, and I can breathe life into me, and fix this rotting boy of wood.” - Brad Collins

“I've tried so desperately to scrub myself clean, I've spent hours at the stream, rubbing at my hands yet still they remain stained. With tragedy, with pain.... With me. Perhaps I am the stain.” - Turner Kordell

“The scariest thing of all isn't being scared of other people, it's being so terribly frightened by yourself that even if the mirror isn't broken, you are.” - Turner Kordell

“If my past were tangible, it would bleed me dry the moment I ran my hand across it, so wickedly sharp that I never stood a chance, really. I can forgive myself all I like, but at the end of the day, it isn't about me, it never was.” - Turner Kordell

“I have been destroyed down to my very atoms, nothing but the molecular level of what I once was, but here I am, still standing, cause I ain't in this life to back down, I'm here to rise up, and stay strong in the face of my damn fear.” - Kirby Bellot

“When I'm done, I can look the devil in her pretty blue eyes and say, I did good nuff, and she'll embrace me with open arms, cause these days, the devil leans back, admires my work, and bites her damn lip, cause I've sinned so deeply ain't even the most forgiving of beings can forgive me. I am a testament to the fact that even good men, can go rotten, just ask the devil, cause all she ever did, was tell the truth. And I'm proof of that.” - Zafavri Holts 

“We're all playin' a game 'a chess with our demons, mate, we're all in a back and forth battle against our darker fuckin' side, difference between me, and the average man, is my demons said checkmate the day I was bloody born.” - Alfonso O’Sullivan

“I am beauty in the ugliest of ways.” - Micah Romiro

“They say killing a man fundamentally changes a man, and that's true so long as it's yourself you're killing.” - Micah Romiro

“It's me who made this mess, the genocide of my own self, the slaughter of my own sense of being.” - Max Shaya

“I often wonder if God keeps me alive only because she fears what I would do to her.” - Howl Matthews 

“I have danced with such sin that I am the crawling of God's skin.” - Howl Matthews

“I do not fear death, I do not fear life, or the punishment I shall receive for mine.” - Howl Matthews

 “My whole damn life around me burned and now I can just hear the fucking silence of my regret.” - Milos Fellwitz

“I have found peace in who I am, I am prepared to burn for what I've done, for everything I love already fucking did.” - Milos Fellwitz 

“So come on world, come at me, I'll break you down to my level, cause you already broke me.” - Milos Fellwitz

“Stand up to me, we'll see where it gets ya, cause buddy, you can start this fight, but you sure as FUCK, ain't gonna be the one to God damn finish it. You want a grave? Good. Stand up to me and I'll grant your wish.” - Milos Fellwitz

“I am no longer tethered to me, I am nothing more than a conscience in another body, a reflection of someone else. In these many lives I've lived I've forgotten who I was, Preston Wilkins, the walking grave.” - Preston Wilkins

“I have made grand discoveries in this life, beasts do indeed roam this world, and you'll be surprised to learn we aren't the worst of them. There are things darker than the shadows in this world. Things more tenebrous than the pitch black of the nebula.” - Preston Wilkins

“I am dead to me, a grave now to even myself.” - Mikaelson Graves

“The only time I feel truly alive is when I can dance under the torchlight... The flame flickering on my skin, the moonlight dancing on me, it's as if Heilgravold is spinning only for me on those nights... The stars shine, the moon gleams, the world spins, I can't just stand still.” - Jemalina Night

“I have lived a life I fear will end in damnation, but I cannot truthfully look God in the eye and say I had no justification for what I've done.” - Adam Borwick

“We are inclined to believe that everything beautiful is good, but even the damned can look of salvation. The scariest thing about a liar, is they're often indistinguishable from the truth tellers, and often I've found they pretend to be prophets. They speak lies as others breathe, lies fall off their tongue like truth, and just like that, a thousand fools are lured into lies. Great minds think alike, my friend, but fools' minds rarely differ.” - Adam Borwick

“My hands are a fretwork of white laced scars, healed remnants of the pain I've felt, reminders that I've survived, that I'm alive.” - Juliet Borwick

“My brother often thinks himself a hopeless case, afraid of the blood he's spilled... But despite everything he's done, he's still my hero, and I know that if the wolves surrounded me, with their gnashing teeth and claws, he'd come to my rescue, frightening the beasts with poetry singing of clashing steel and red.” - Juliet Borwick

“The sun ain't gon' rise... At least, heh, not for you.” - Defforest Van Patten

“I have watched bullets soar through the air, droppin' soldiers and bloomin' flowers 'a red misery.” - Defforest Van Patten

“I will face this Goliath in my future as if I was David, slinging the fucking stone.” - Lockman Pierce

“ I will drag this dark into the dawn and make it Icarus, only difference is, it burns for a cause more grand than itself.” - Percy Pierce

“I'd rather go up in flames then down the wrong side of history.” - Percy Pierce

 “My hands are stained with blood, and truthfully, I don't know if it's my own or my conscience's... In this dark place my mind rattles, constantly ricocheting between myself and another... My mind speaks from the tongue of my abuser.” - Dylan Robertson

 “I'm just another man riddled with bullets, watching as all the King's horses and all the King's men simply step over me. This was war, but it became tragedy, as all wars do. Bullets flew, prophets spoke, but the blood was never prose, just red.” - Dylan Robertson

“All it takes to be a good man is to love and be loved, to give what you can and help those less fortunate than you. Even a smile can save a life. I reckon our hearts are suns waitin' to rise, and all it takes is a spark, really. Of love, of joy, even of curiosity. I've found when times are hard, ya don't got to look forward to what life may bring, just curious enough to explore the path God has given you.” - Thornton May

 “I am silk, woven from the finest of horrors.” - Dr. Tobias Emory

“I have watched humanity build themselves a grave over these many years, from the days of the lawless West to the stabbing of Julius Caesar, funny, how knives find backs and ours found the world's.” - Dr. Tobias Emory

“I am poetry, a dark entity captured in the paintings of Van Gogh and the prose of Allen Poe.” - Dr. Tobias Emory

 “You hold a secret for long enough, you become one.” - Changreta Alderbright

“My regret is so softly whispered that I imagine I am simply the who shouting only for Horton to hear.” - Changreta Alderbright

“I am lost, my eyelids heavy and bloodshot, projecting the horrors I can't scratch out, and despite how much I've torn, there's no key behind those fuckers.” - Arnaldus Alswith

“In a kingdom where the gifts the gods bestowed upon us is outlawed, punishable by death, what else are we supposed to do but rebel?” - Faylen Osophine

“I'm a shadow, wearing a crown as if it would save me, but instead I am crushed under it's weight, a stain on my engraved tile floor.” - Jalandar Osophine

 “This battle, this revolution of me, was never meant to be easy, I've fought against myself for decades, and I'm proud to say, not a single corpse of me fell, and flowers bloomed from the bullets fired.” - Georgia Graves

“I am a heartless beast washed in the blood of the lamb by force. God spares me, because I've pulled the wool over his eyes. I am Jacob, pulling a coat over my barren arms and telling Issac I am Easu if only to receive a blessing a doth not fucking deserve.” - Abdalla Calico

“This war against myself is too much to bear, how did I manage to become the hunter, the deer, and the bullet piercing my own damn skull?” - Abdalla Calico

“So oh lord, I am washed in the blood of the lamb, but be weary, for that's only because I slit it's throat.” - Abdalla Calico

“I say, it's time the outcasts wrote the fucking history books. The victors write their own version of history, so I say it's time someone told the damn truth.” - Sluzmink Jones

“I ain't askin' to be forgiven, just spared.” - Regan Locke

“On the inside, I am dyin', bullet holes and old wounds etched on the inside, and yet, on the outside, I ain't even bleedin. It's funny how that works, huh? We all die before we ever reach the damn casket, all it takes is a single bad day, so imagine a life of em.” - Regan Locke

“Bleeding from one's soul is the truest form of self.” - Azophine Bane

“My heart sings a battered melody, but even a lute of few strings can play a chord.” - Brilista Shante

 “I often damn myself for others have damned me.” - Brilista Shante

“I fear I am the judgment of others, I fear I am every person I've ever met and every crime I've ever committed. But maybe, that's because in a world that hates you for your birth, I'm scared to exist, when my existence is damned.” - Brilista Shante

“Who said gluttony came in the form of food? We can wolf down sins just as we would a meal on a silver platter, and I'm just as greedy as the rest of ya if not more.” - Harold Stout

“I have fed myself so full that I can hardly walk without the crushin' weight 'a my sacrilege buryin' me six foot undah.” - Harold Stout

“I am starved yet gorged with sin.” - Harold Stout

 “Am I really to stumble through the dark, finding cliff-sides rather than solid ground?” - Gothel Hendricks

 “My tongue is scarred and bleeding from the lies of affection, my lips are burned with the taste of abusive love.” - Gothel Hendricks

“Life can be tough as all hell, it can shove us in the dirt and then some, but all you gotta do to survive, is get back up. The worst thing a man can do, is stay down.” - Salary Holmes

“Mercy, my dearest of friends, is torture after you are broken, so I wouldn't go praising a man for sparing you. He's spared you of death, not the pain he wishes to cause you.” - Cyrus Hollow

[underdressedgoth]

This took days to finish (about 5-6) Honesty this was mostly for me to try out different shading techniques. I am pretty proud of all of them (Though I couldn’t figure out how to copy boarders and wasn’t in the mood to google it so that is the only thing that bothers me a tiny bit about this) I drew Bill and his sisters as humans because I thought it would be more fun (and it was) So here is my take on Bill’s past. Bill came from a family of high states (they didn’t rule but his and his sister’s parents had huge roles in the government of their home dimension) He was the middle child and only son, often ignored and brushed aside since he was seen as a average kid. Didn’t have friends and was picked on by others. He was often jealous of his sisters since he was the least favorite out of the three. Tala’s shadow especially when it came to comparing strength. Tala was the eldest out of the three, along with being the favorite child. She was seen as the strongest, most intelligent and perfect child. She never had issues with making friends, she was well liked. And she knew it. But that doesn’t mean she was a good person. She often brushed Bill aside and even mock him from time to time. She had a narcissistic view towards her own brother, she always knew that she was better than him in everything. Very blind to the consequences she had in store for herself as she felt invincible due to her high status. Tiny little Lil, Lillusion was the youngest, the little angel of the family. The girl was a happy little bell who loved both of her siblings dearly, she would constantly go by either of them whenever she could. The world she was born in seemed perfect in her eyes, nothing wrong with it! Oblivious to what was happening behind close doors that was the turmoil between her older siblings. Bill one day found himself wondering through dimensions, he had no idea how he even managed to get himself there. He stumbled upon the “Nightmare Realm” and was amazed by the lack of rules, he felt like he could truly be himself. No sister harassing him, no rules to hold him down, no one who cares that he’s no as good as his family was! Getting a little carried away with his freedom, he accidentally kills a demon and gains powers beyond what he thought was possible! It made him feel amazing and for once, strong, and he felt his unknown hunger for power grow. He killed another demon, then another, then another. By the time he was “finished” having fun he had already slaughtered over a hundred demons. But that didn’t mean he was satisfied, he wanted more, he wanted to rule. So he challenged the ruler of the Nightmare Realm, and quickly killed him too. Blind with the lust of Genocide, Bill returns to the 2nd Dimension and starts killing off those who have wronged him. Lillusion was someone who go unlucky to be spotted by Bill, while he had killed off their parents, she managed to only get injured and left for dead in the rubble of what was once their home. Yet she was also one of the luckiest girls in the world to have survived it. Unbeknown to her siblings though.

Tala on the other hand, chose to challenge her brother, believing that she would take him. She was heavily mistaken as she was found herself on the losing end of the battle. No matter how hard she fought, it was no match to the raw power that her brother had gained while he was away. Getting sent flying through the walls of the ruins of their home, she was left to die buried under the rubble. Only to be saved by Tad Strange after Bill escapes the collapsing dimension. While Lillusion managed to escape last minute before her dimension ceased to exist, she was left heavily traumatized and hurt. All alone, she had no where to go. She was abandoned by the two who she trusted most, she didn’t know what to do. Until she was taken in by rebels of the Multiverse. Heavily trained to become an assassin, she learned to fight and kill even the most strongest of beings. That didn’t make up for her deteriorating mental health and sanity. Slowly, she drove herself insane with the thought of vengeance on her own siblings. She became her brother and sister’s personal hunter While we all know Bill’s story of ruling the Nightmare realm, Tala just wondered through universes, not interested in the idea of finding a knew home or getting revenge on her brother, as she knew deep down it wouldn’t solve anything. All she could do is think about what lead to where she was now. (Sorry the story ain’t good, I am really tired while typing this because I want to post this as soon as possible since it took so long. I am half awake as I type this)

[thanksjro]

The Persistence of Loss: More Ghosts Teaching Robots Life Lessons

This is a story written by Mark Stevenson, but it takes place in the Eugenesis continuity. Fun fact: when everything’s fanfic, that means everything’s equally canon! TMUK took advantage of this nodule of wisdom very frequently.

This is running on Microsoft Word in compatibility mode, by the way. No PDFs here.

It’s after the events the Epilogue of Eugenesis, and there’s a thing called “the List” hanging up in the new Autobase. You know, the one that was set up in the fucking concentration camp.

The worst part of this is how many questions are stirred up by the fact this is on printer paper. Where did the paper come from? Does this mean Cybertron has some sort of plant life that could be pulped down and made into paper? Did they bring some from Earth on the Ark?

What the List is isn’t directly stated, but considering the events of Eugenesis, it isn’t hard to guess.

Meanwhile, Bombshell, everyone’s favorite mind-controller and giant bug, is messing around with the Quintesson corpses, utterly fascinated by the way they’re built.

I never covered this in my breakdown, but the little dudes who were flying the Tridents? All those nameless nobodies? They’re hardwired into their controls. There’s no transition from steering to hand or seat to ass, it’s all one and the same.

Swindle is, of course, disgusted by Bombshell’s little distraction, but there’s not much point arguing with a guy like that, especially now that the tentative peace in the wake of the Quintesson invasion is about to be bashed in with a hammer, since Galvatron’s going to be back on Cybertron in the next few hours. Flattop cuts in, saying they’ve got company inbound.

Over at the remains of Delphi, Scourge has decided to have a little alone time, just thinking his thoughts. It’s nice and quiet, the sunset is positively lovely, and he’s honestly probably overdue for some sort of interruption.

Welp, looks like he wasn’t dead after all. I guess he just decided he was going to sit the entirety of the genocide out.

Though maybe he just didn’t realize it was happening, because this Cyclonus really is just stupid as shit. He laughs at a comment Scourge makes, completely forgetting that they’re in the Sonic Canyons, and nearly kills the both of them. Once the danger’s passed, Cyclonus finally asks Scourge what’s bothering him. What a good friend.

Back at Autobase, Rodimus Prime is sad. He’s always sad, but he’s particularly sad right now. We’re still only a couple of days beyond him having woken up, so he probably stopped self-isolating over Kup’s death roughly twenty minutes ago.

He’s currently reflecting on Emyrissus, the Micromaster he sent to assassinate Galvatron, whose death was as awful as it was predictable, or so Rodimus likes to think. He knew Emyrissus was going to die.

You see, this is why Rodimus is a better leader than Optimus is, at least in terms of empathy. He understands that he’s in a position of power, one that can make or break a person’s very life, and that scares the shit out of him. Regardless of Eugenesis Optimus being one from prior the horrendously long war, he was still enough of a figurehead to at least entertain the thought of his being put on a pedestal by those around him.

But no. Instead everyone deserved to die.

Thanks, space dad.

Stevenson, you are playing a dangerous game here-

Mirage and his friends are being ambushed by a group of Decepticons. He’s currently rocking around with Ramhorn and Kick-Off, and they’re currently barricading themselves behind a wall. Ramhorn, being a wildcard, runs out of cover and decides to just go for it. Mirage silently wonders if this is why the Transformers as a race can’t function outside of making war. That thought doesn’t get to the self-reflection stage, however, as he basically says “fuck it” and vaults over the wall himself, though he at least has the bright idea to go invisible beforehand.

Getting back to Scourge’s angst, it would seem that Nightbeat was right on the money about not having hit him with the mind wipe device. Scourge remembered everything, and it's tortured him for the last 27 years- even more if you think too hard about all the time travel. He was fully convinced that after he went through the wormhole, that was it- the Transformers lost, and he had his very own countdown. THAT would be why he blew himself up in Liars, A-to-D.

Now that it looks like everything’s going to be about as okay as it gets on Cybertron, he’s really not sure what to do with his life anymore.

These two fucking idiots have a great big laugh together, to the point where the nearby homeless population wonder if the Quintessons came back. They eventually calm down, and Scourge asks Cyclonus what I’ve been wondering for months: what he did in the Eugenesis Wars.

Over with Rodimus, Kup is at the door.

Alright, let’s see where this goes. I’m betting on hallucination.

Kup enters, closing the door behind him at Rodimus’ request, and comments on the state of the office. It’s positively dreary, and that’s with the inclusion of the window.

Kup seems to be a sort of manifestation of Rodimus’ self-loathing. He should probably see a therapist, but last I heard Rung was over with the Decepticons, and he’s probably the only mental health specialist on the entire planet.

Which makes me wonder why Galvatron hasn’t killed him yet. Guy’s not exactly a fan of therapy.

Kup’s tough love comes from a good place- he can see Rodimus is deep in the rut that is Depression™, and he needs a swift kick in the ass to help him get back on track. I don’t quite think that’s how this works, but something’s got to give, I suppose.

Because you see, Kup’s seen the future, and it ain’t pretty- Star Saber isn’t someone to be trusted, and his whole gang is going to be coming down on Cybertron like sharks smelling blood.

Then again, Kup’s not real, so what does he know?

Rodimus asks what this is all actually about, seeing as Kup always had a reason for showing up for anything. Kup admits that he wants to talk about Emyrissus.

The problem is that things are only going to get harder from here on, as the lines between good and evil are blurred, as the Autobots sink deeper into the dredges of war to try and win this thing. Emyrissus is just the most glaring example at present. Kup opens the door, and Rodimus worries that the Micromaster is going to pop out to join the conversation, but Kup just says that he doesn’t have enough memories of the guy to build him in his head like he can Kup.

Kup tells Rodimus that he needs to learn to let go, and stop blaming himself for everything that’s gone wrong with this war. Then he’s gone.

Rodimus goes to join the troops.

Over with Mirage, things aren’t going so hot. He’s been shot. HIs team members are either too busy to help, or completely AWOL. He scrabbles for his gun- very reminiscent of Liars A-to-D here- only to have someone else’s gun put to his head. It’s Bombshell. Look at the scenes coming together all nice-like!

Bombshell threatens to shoot him, and Mirage is very okay with this plan. He’s hit his nihilism barrier and broken clean through it- what’s the point? All they do is fight, all they do is kill, and one day there won’t be anything left, and all will be lost to time. There’s nothing worth living for anymore.

The postpartum depression is hitting Mirage very hard.

Bombshell recalls the Quintesson soldier, and orders his team to stand down. They won’t be killing anyone today. He promises Mirage that when the war is over, they’ll have a chat, then leaves.

Mirage is, understandably, confused by this.

Back at Autobase, Rodimus is being followed by a smattering of groupies, as he makes his way to the List. By the time he gets there, nearly fifty folks have joined the throng. He figures now is as good a time as any to speak to his troops, and he hops up on a toolbox so everyone can see him.

First and foremost, he tells them that he’s proud of them. Then thanks them for being here with him.

Then he addresses the elephant in the room.

Then Nightbeat pushes through the crowd towards the Prime. He’s fresh off the presses, and he knows what Rodimus was about to do to the List. He knows, and he encourages it.

With a flourish, Rodimus Prime rips the List off of the wall, and everyone bursts into applause.

Finally getting back to Cyclonus’ deal, it turns out he was buried under Darkmount the whole time. Bit anticlimactic, that. With the Mystery of the Missing Cyclonus solved, the two decide to go get plastered at Maccadam’s, and also maybe stab a few people. Good times.

Meanwhile, off-world, Great Shot enters the office of Star Saber, and they join in the long-standing tradition of talking shit about Old Cybertron. Star Saber is less than impressed with the Autobots, and how they got their asses kicked by a bunch of guys that look like flying eggs. Still, helping them out gives him something to do, and that something is rebuilding Old Cybertron into the gleaming, perfect image of New Cybertron.

And then there’s a quote directly ripped from Hitler himself, to really sell you on the fact that Star Saber is a Bad Fucking Dude.

The end!

This will most likely be the only non-Roberts Eugenesis-related work I’ll be looking at. There are others, but they’ve been lost to time. Also, they’re not really why I’m doing this, so… yeah.

Up next…

Huh.

Guess I’ll start on the professional stuff.

[dalishious]

@newwillinium replied to your post “@newwillinium replied to your post “… You’ve read The Masked Empire...”

National Pride, desire for glory, to shove it in the faces of racist Chevaliers. Orlesian Elves are still Orlesian after all, and with Briala at the lead shall be afforded the same rights and opportunities as Human Orlesians. Eventually at least, traditional institutions like the Chevaliers are likely to take a while. Plus I like to imagine that Leliana, Murder Pope, reformation will greatly help in these needed social changes.

agenderium-z replied to your post “@newwillinium replied to your post “… You’ve read The Masked Empire...”

@newwillinium literally why would any elf have any 'national pride' when at best they're treated as pets by orlesians. why would any elf want to enter a group that has a rite of passage that involves slaughtering their people. tbh by saying that you LIKE gaspard, a man who pays for a study to 'prove' that elves are beasts, says a lot. you're so white dude.

newwillinium replied to your post “@newwillinium replied to your post “… You’ve read The Masked Empire...”

I am incredibly white, used to joke that I was so pale that I’d be translucent in the rays of the sun, but I like to think that I’ve grown much out of my ignorant youth. I’m guessing that this is in the book right? I’ve only experienced Gaspard via the game where he is a bit of a thug defined by a cherished code. A warmonger that will keep and hold to a peace set by Queen Anora and the Inquisition. As for why Orlesian Elves may feel national pride? Well that is how people work in terms of

newwillinium replied to your post “@newwillinium replied to your post “… You’ve read The Masked Empire...”

of empires. A raised minority will be used to create control of a region. The best example perhaps being that of the British Empire and the Sikhs of the Indian Peninsula. In the world of Thedas however the Orlesian Elves might wish to join the Chevaliers either to change the organization from the inside, perhaps inspired by tales of the Heroic Chevaliers, or out of spite from the Alienage slaughters. I outright refuse to use Michel as an example here as his character arc is the exact opposite of

newwillinium replied to your post “@newwillinium replied to your post “… You’ve read The Masked Empire...”

what I propose and is honestly rather gross.

agenderium-z replied to your post “@newwillinium replied to your post “… You’ve read The Masked Empire...”

im gonna be real with you my guy ain't nobody gonna read that whitesplainly shit @newwillinium

newwillinium replied to your post “@newwillinium replied to your post “… You’ve read The Masked Empire...”

Whitesplaining is a new one to me but fair enough. I obviously do not have the best background to discuss minorities and what they may do in an evolving Empire, outside of a historical context of our own world. Ultimately what I mean to say is, Fair enough.

👋 Hi, can I jump in? Though thank you @agenderium-z for responding with what I was gonna say, and I’m going to reiterate your words a bit.

@newwillinium, it is a lot more complicated than “Orlesian elves are still orlesian.” As is national pride. I don’t think there is a way that I can properly explain to you how it feels to live in a country that is built on the bones of your people, and wants to bury you with them. Then have fingers waving at you everywhere, telling you that you must be proud of your country. That you do not deserve to be a citizen if you have any criticism at all. 

I live in Atlantic Canada, but to me, it is Mi’kma’ki. I belong to two Nations. One of them created by colonizers on top of the other. I do say that I am Canadian, and you know what, for as many, many, many faults my country has, it is still my home. And I still feel relatively proud to say that I am Canadian, for what that should mean. But that comes with all kinds of inner turmoil and mixed emotions, that gets worse every single time I see yet another statistic added to the MMIW crisis, or get told that I’m just too sensitive for wanting a statue of a genocidal warlord honouring his crimes removed. And I know many native people who do not feel Canadian. And I support them, because I understand.

The elves of Orlais did not ask to be made Orlesian. The Orlesians conquered their homeland and made it their own. The national pride you speak of, you need to understand that there are probably many elves who do not feel Orlesian, no more than Fereldans felt Orlesian while under occupation. 

I just posted a piece on the chevaliers of Orlais, outlining how horrible they are. No elf in their right mind would want to join them. The chevaliers are everything about Orlais that is horrible.

Gaspard is the biggest sack of shit in Orlais, and yes, that is detailed in the book. I recommend you read my post, ‘What Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts Didn’t Tell You.’ This includes covering the fact that Gaspard commissioned studies trying to prove elves are more akin to rodents, and that he enjoys going on Dalish hunting parties.

Whitesplaining is when white people condescendingly talk over POC on matters of racism and etc. Like how you just tried to tell me how minorities react to being under the control of empires. And re: your example, my suggestion to you would be to check out CrimesOfBritain on Twitter.

[paulasmusicjourney-blog]

Just Like The Ocean Always In Love With The Moon Sketches For My Sweetheart The Drunk at 20

Kurt was fairly quiet and introverted most of the time. Jeff was the opposite. He was very much full of life and had a lot to say. He was somebody in love with experiencing everything. Within a very short time, he had all these famous old rock stars coming to his shows. Which put a a lot of pressure on him. People talked about his concerts the way they used to talk about Hendrix: they'd sit there, wide-eyed, telling you stories about him. He definitely had an aura. It's impossible to say what it is exactly a guy like that has, that is so attractive to other people. But he had more of it than anyone I had ever met. ~Chris Cornell, Jeff's friend and music director of Sketches for My Sweetheart the Drunk. Sketches is anything except what you'd expect for the follow up to Jeff's debut album, Grace. Jeff would be proud of that. He began writing songs for the album he wanted to call My Sweetheart the Drunk and was recording many of these songs when he swam infamously into the Wolf River on May 29, 1997. He left behind many unfinished songs and recordings that had to be interpreted and assumed finished in the way Jeff would have wanted. Helping in that, at the request of his mother, was friend Chris Cornell. Sketches is two discs of ups and downs. There is a lot of scorn, the powerful, heartbreak, isolation, and acceptance. His lyrics show growth, chance, and not Grace part II, a leap Sony would not have been happy with for sure. Who knows what would have become of Jeff. The truth that music was his home - and that the music he wanted to create and enjoy. When you start to perform under fake names just to enjoy playing a small show for the sake of music...who knows how long Jeff would have survived the industry. Easier said then done now as opposed to the big label 1990's. Twenty years since we heard what was going on in Jeff's mind and heart. There was change going on within Jeff. The sounds he used to record Grace at Bearsville Studio differs greatly from the raw sound of the songs he recorded in Memphis and in New York City for Sketches. There is one eerie similarity between the two albums: Jeff's references to river, water, and drowning. Below, some lyrics from each track.

Disc 1 The Sky Is A Landfill The storm has ripped the shelter Of illusion from our brow This power is no mystery to us now. Leave your spirit genocide The cancer you won't remove We cast our funeral rose inside And bury the need to prove Our mutilation is to gain from the system Everybody Here Wants You I know the tears we cried Have dried on yesterday The sea of fools has parted for us There's nothing in our way My love Opened Once Just like the ocean Always in love with the moon It's overflowing now Nightmares By The Sea I've loved so many times and I've drowned them all From their coral graves, they rise up when darkness falls With their bones they'll scratch the window, I hear them call "Don't know what you asked for." Yard Of Blonde Girls Through the yard Through the yard of blonde girls Through the river and the sea Gold sharks glittering A tree of white Breaks the earth The streets where Lola played Witches' Rave You'd like to see him suffer For you fantasy and thrill He fell sick while we made love He's out there, somewhere, still New Year's Prayer Leave your office Run past your funeral Leave your home, car Leave your pulpit Join us in the streets where we Join us in the streets where we Don't belong, don't belong You and the stars Throwing light Morning Theft True self is what Brought you here, to me A place where we can Accept this love Friendship battered down by Useless history Unexamined failure   Vancouver We're where we belong It should end here Until the end of time Beyond the moment That ends our bondage I am your failed husband contender I'm your loan shark of bliss. You & I You and I Ah, the calm below that poisoned the river wild You and I Tears that dry on a rude awakened child Where you look down I've walked before Burning holes With eyes of liquid brown If we had only known In a way We wouldn't reach this ground You were my only home  

Disc 2 Nightmares By The Sea Stay with me under these waves, tonight Be free for once in your life tonight New Year's Prayer Stand absolved behind your electric chair, dancing Past the sound within the sound Past the voice within the voice Haven't You Heard Paranoia will write the world prayer Make sure that you fit in the right holes But when you take his offer, you're done for   I Know We Could Be So Happy Baby (If We Wanted To Be) We had a birthplace in common We had separate beds and lives I'll just sit here and glow Break out the oldest pictures Hand your ruined letters out to dry We had a birthplace in common And separate beds and lives And lives, and lives   Murder Suicide Meteor Slave Welcome down to paradise rock There is no single entrance With the stars to revolve around There is no real underground Back In N.Y.C. You're sitting in your comfort you don't believe I'm real, You cannot buy protection from the way that I feel. Your progressive hypocrites hand out their trash, But it was mine in the first place, so I'll burn it to ash. And I've tasted all the strongest meats, And laid them down in colored sheets. Laid them down in colored sheets. Who needs illusion of love and affection When you're out walking in the streets with your mainline connection?   Demon John Today or tonight Better get yourself together And transcend it, a burst of light Blaze stars into me While the love breaks through here and now Your Flesh Is So Nice Jewel Box Diamonds from the pavement Where a broken glass had been Just like these troubles that I'm leaving to the wind Like sapphires in boxcars speeding towards the end Like thieves, my bad luck grows Satisfied Mind (Cover) My Friends and My Lovers, I Will Leave, There's No Doubt But One Things For Certain, When It Comes My Time I'll Leave This Old World With A Satisfied Mind Gunshot Glitter [Bonus Track] Down to the sea out of the skies Of gold cards and casual tears I have only come to see you shine Feminine smiles the right side is wise, more than I. I wanna be your lover, Lipstick my name across your mirror. Blood red with flaked gunshot glitter And be one with all you disowned in your young life. You paranoia politician diva. You paranoia politician diva. Thousand Fold [Bonus Track] There ain't a star born that brightens More than you, you always should have known, I'll illuminate your question, Long time ago I'd died and gone. What has brought the question? Time has brought the question. Come and call the question, Oh, oh, oh. Here are the stars, same thing again

I am a railroad track abandoned With the sunset Forgetting I ever happened That I ever happened

[zirawrites]

Hi! How do companions +Gage with crush on fem sole react when they find out she thinks she isn’t lovable because of her choices both past and present?

This is my first time writing Gage! Let me know what you think. It was harder than I thought it would be since I didn’t travel with the yellow trashcan-wearing bby that much.

Cait: Cait couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She rubbed Sole’s back as her companion blabbered on about every aspect of her life. The two women had been drinking all night, and Sole had always been an emotional drunk. Somehow they got on the topic of their pasts, and Sole immediately burst in to tears. “Nate was always disappointed in me,” she cried. “He was a soldier who worshiped the law. He disapproved of how I was a lawyer. And I know he’d hate the choices I’ve made.”

Cait scratched her head. “I have no idea what you’re talkn’ about, love,” she said. And Cait was being honest. “You’re tryn’ to take down the Institute: a bunch of shadow-assholes who terrorize families and replace people with copies of themselves. Hell, you’re like a superhero in one of those comic books. Cross my heart.”

Her words didn’t soothe Sole much. “I’ve killed, Cait. Even if they deserved it, I know Nate wouldn’t be able to stomach me.” Sole drunkenly hiccuped as she poured another glass. “I don’t deserve another chance at love. I just don’t.”

Exasperated, Cait had heard enough. She stood up to look down at weeping Sole; her arms crossed tightly and mouth in a tight frown. “Now wait just a damn minute!” she yelled. “You’re a hero in the Commonwealth. I know I ain’t one to talk. And hell, I’m not sure how uptight those pre-war assholes were about heroism. But I’ll be damned if I let you talk bad about yourself.” Cait crouched down in front of Sole and moved a strand of tear-soaked hair from her face. “If anythn’, you’re absolutely perfect.”

Codsworth (synth): The two friends were making breakfast in Sole’s Sanctuary home just like the pre-war days. The sun was shining, Diamond City radio was playing, and Codsworth told his usual stiff English jokes. For a moment, Sole forgot all about the nuclear fallout. Life was just as it used to be, but instead of Codsworth being a Mr. Handy, he was a well-dressed man who cared about cleanliness and the art of perfecting toast.

“Oh, mum,” Codsworth said as he handed her a plate, “it’s just like the old days. I do miss having more arms to tidy the ol’ homestead, but I’m definitely not complaining.” He liked having the new responsibilities of keeping himself fashionable. Compared to Sole who sat opposite of him at the table, he was adorned in almost pre-war garb. It was adorable.

“I wish we could recreate those days,” Sole admitted. She absentmindedly stirred the eggs on her plate, and Codsworth immediately noticed her anxiety. “I’m not the woman I used to be. How would I be able to get a date after all I’ve done in this world? There aren’t a lot of eligible bachelors aching for a murderer.”

Codsworth knew she was picturing the Institute in flames. Gunners shot down from where she sniped. Raiders running for their lives. All the injured settlers she couldn’t save. Instead of sitting down with Sole, Codsworth walked around the table to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Oh, mum,” Codsworth soothed. He wanted to cry, but wouldn’t let Sole see him like that. “The Commonwealth is blessed to have you. You aren’t a murderer. You’ve saved countless lives when you placed your own principles over a faction bent on genocide.” When Sole softened her expression, Codsworth’s tightened his grip. “The men in this new world aren’t gentlemen. They’re fixated on caps and mercenary work. It’s absolutely deplorable. You deserve so much more than that. Someone who appreciates your loyalty to justice. Your gentleness and empathy. Your -”

“And you deserve someone who appreciates your amazing eggs and charm.” Sole had cut Codsworth off, and a bright blush spread across his cheeks. He forgot what other compliment he was going to add.

Curie: “I cannot believe what I am hearing,” Curie gasped. The two women had been discussing their perfect utopia. Curie’s was one where science was held to the highest esteem and education was a right for every child. Sole dreamed of a world that aimed for total peace. There would be no racism. No one would be prejudice against ghouls or synths. And people like her wouldn’t exist. Curie was having none of it, and Sole had never seen her so upset. “You are a martyr to peace in the Commonwealth! I have looked up to you ever since you found me a human body and taught me about the real world.” It was true: Curie idolized Sole in every way possible. “If your utopia doesn’t include someone as smart and beautiful as you, then I do not want to live in it.”

Sole pulled back her head in shock. “What do you mean beautiful?”

Curie blushed and tried to stammer her way out of the mess she made. “I just meant that…. I mean… you are so kind and generous to people just eking out a living that I…” She never really did form a complete thought after that.

Danse: Sole had never seen Danse out of his power armor, and he was quite the sight to behold. The Brotherhood had recently taken down a raider operation which freed a large portion of settlements. It was such an impressive feat that Maxon allowed Danse and his men a night off to be civilians. The unanimous vote was to go out drinking. As the soldiers harassed the bartenders and drunkenly danced all over one another, Danse watched from the shadows. He had been nursing the same bottle of beer all night.

When Danse saw Sole walking towards him, he fumbled over his feet to meet her across the bar. He had never seen her in… was that a dress? It was rather conservative for a night out - down to her ankles and fastened with plastic buttons - but she looked beautiful. “Why aren’t you dancing with the others?” he asked her. “You deserve a night off more than anyone else here. If I recall correctly, it was you who found the raiders’ base. You interrogated their leader. I thought you’d be waist deep in free booze by now, soldier.”

“Oh, I’m not a big drinker,” Sole said. Was she blushing? Danse hoped he wasn’t. “And besides, I was just about to head back to the Prydwen. I really just wanted to dance. But everyone at the bar knows why we’re here. I’m sure a lady notorious for slitting raiders’ throats isn’t exactly charming. I’m not fooling anyone with this dress.”

Without even meaning to, Danse extended his hand towards Sole. They both seemed equally surprised. “That’s nonsense, Sole,” he said; a smile spreading across his face. The jukebox flipped on a new song, and everyone at the bar headed to the small dance floor. “I hope this isn’t too forward but… May I have this dance?” 

Deacon: It had been a month since Deacon told Sole about his late wife. He wasn’t entirely sure she believed him, but that was understandable. Sole had been nothing but loyal to Deacon, while he soiled their friendship at every turn with lies and tricks. Baring his all to his partner took some of the burden off his shoulders, but it wasn’t enough. It probably would never be enough. He didn’t deserve a friend like Sole.

“Hey partner.” Deacon was leaning against the desk in HQ when Sole returned from a mission. She knew whatever he had to say must have been serious because he was using the same soft infliction he had when he talked about Barbara. “I’ve been thinking… I sprung a lot on your plate a few weeks ago. Are we okay? Like, I didn’t scare ya off or anything? Because I’m not used to being so honest. You don’t need to be okay with what I’ve done.”

Sole stepped as close as she could to Deacon without physically touching him. The small space between them made him dizzy. Good dizzy? Was that even a thing? “Deac, you don’t ever need to worry about that. I appreciate you being so open about your past. If anything, I think it’s brought us closer together. I know what it’s like to feel like you don’t deserve to be loved. After choosing the Railroad over my son and the amount of blood on my hands… hell, I don’t even deserve having you in my life.”

Sole gasped as Deacon pulled her in to his chest. For not being the hugging type, Deacon held her so tight her tip-toes barely scraped the floor. She mumbled something in to his shirt, but he couldn’t hear. “Shut up,” he whispered. If he came to his senses, he might let go of Sole and run away forever. And he definitely didn’t want that.

Hancock: Hancock placed his hand on the small of Sole’s back as they waved at Billy from the streets. They had just returned the young ghoul to his family, and Hancock couldn’t be more proud of Sole’s selflessness. She was able to calm the child down well enough to find his family, and resist the temptation of selling him in to slavery. He couldn’t hold her to a higher affinity if he tried.

When Billy shut the door, Hancock turned to Sole. He could barely make out her features from the darkness outside; she was dimly lit from the green glow of her Pip-Boy. And, to his surprise, Sole was frowning. “What’s wrong, beautiful?” he asked. Sole could see Hancock was frowning as well. She hadn’t meant to kill his vibe.

“Nothing,” she said. Her voice was soft and unsure. “It’s just… I guess seeing Billy’s family made me realize what I missed out on. That could have been Nate and I. Now who would want to settle down with me? I’m damaged goods.”

“Who the FUCK is sayn’ that?!” Hancock seethed. He seriously wanted to know. “Damaged goods my irradiated ass. Sole, you are everything right with this messed up world. I couldn’t be more proud of you, baby. Anyone who can’t see how perfect you are is either blind or just plain stupid.”

Sole was used to Hancock’s pet names, but never felt him hold on to her that tight. She cleared her throat and chuckled as Hancock sheepishly let go of her waist. He was blushing so hot anyone within fifteen feet of him would need to take some RadAway.

MacCready: Sole had a way with bartering that MacCready deeply admired. She managed to get an entire shipment of ammunition for Sanctuary for a third of what Diamond City charged. As the two of them set out to find a caravan to carry the supplies, he wanted to blow some smoke up Sole’s ass. She deserved it.

“You should have seen yourself back there!” MacCready said. “You’re like a cap-saving goddess. Can you get me a discount on hats? Mine is kinda falling apart.” Sole giggled at his compliments, which made MacCready’s heart skip a beat. He had never heard her laugh like that. It was something he wanted her to do again. “Seriously, Sole. How are you single? You could walk up to any guy at a bar and by the end of the night swindle yourself right in to a wedding ring.”

Sole didn’t laugh at that one. She slowed her pace enough to make a lump in MacCready’s throat. “I’m still single because nobody wants me like that,” Sole admitted. “I’m a good barterer and leader, but partner? Not so much.”

“That bullsh- bullcrap!” MacCready yelled. His voice was loud enough to attract the attention of a few drifters. “Who wouldn’t wanna marry you? Sole, don’t talk about yourself that way. I admire the heck outta you. And not just because you saved me a ton on ammo.” He wanted to keep gushing about Sole, but he had word-vomited enough for one day. Sole didn’t giggle, but she blushed. That was close enough for him.

Preston: Well, this was a first for both of them. While checking on a settlement, one of the women went in to labor. Other settlers explained that her husband had died from illness a month ago, and none of them knew how to deliver a baby. Sole immediately jumped in to help. Preston was in charge of calming her down while Sole did the dirty work. Luckily for everyone, the woman wasn’t in labor for even eight hours. The baby girl was delivered healthy, and her middle name was now Sole’s first one. It was touching.

Sole was cleaning herself up when Preston entered the shack to check on her. “You were really brave today, General,” he said. “I couldn’t have done that without you. You probably saved that mother’s life.” Sole smiled, but she didn’t respond. “Aren’t you proud of yourself?” Preston thought Sole would be gleaming, especially since she was also a mother.

“It makes me sad,” Sole admitted. She looked at her feet as she spoke. “I’ll never have another baby. I love Shaun with all my heart, but I always wanted a big family.” Preston asked Sole why she was so certain she’d never be pregnant again. It wasn’t like Sole was that old… well, physically. “No one would want to raise a family with me, Preston. Not after the choices I’ve made. I’m a different person than I used to be. A worse person, really.”

“That’s a lie!” Preston’s voice was louder than he expected. He drew in a deep breath to calm down, and then took a step closer. “Sole, you’re a fantastic mom. You’ve sacrificed everything to find your son. And I know you would make the best wife. No one is as selfless and brave as you. That’s how you gained the trust of the Minutemen. That’s how you earned my admiration.” With that, Preston placed a kiss on Sole’s cheek. It was unexpected, but not unappreciated.

Piper:  Piper had interviewed Sole when she was searching for Shaun, so it only seemed appropriate to do one after the Institute fell. The two women sat in her office and sipped brandy that Nick had generously donated just for the occasion. Piper wanted to know she wasn’t just doing this for publicity. Sole was her best friend, and deserved closure after her horrific discovery.

“Whenever you’re ready, I want to start off by asking you what you want the Commonwealth to know about Shaun. Not as leader of the Institute, but as the son you raised.” Piper readied her pen, but Sole didn’t speak. Instead, she took a long drink, and played with the hem of her shirt. “Is everything okay, Sole?” Piper asked. “We don’t have to do this right now. Or we can skip that question. I have a lot of other ones that have more to do with you than Shaun.”

“I didn’t try hard enough,” Sole mumbled. There were tears threatening to roll down her flushed cheeks. “Shaun deserved a better mother. Nate deserved a better wife. The Commonwealth is too good for me, Piper. I couldn’t save my family, so how am I supposed to save others? I don’t deserve your friendship. I don’t deserve anyone’s love.”

Piper couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her usual reaction was to get dramatic. Sole half-expected her to jump out of her seat in hysterics for the pep-talk of a lifetime. Instead, Piper’s expression softened, and she reached out to hold Sole’s hand. It was softer than she thought it would be. “I have a new question for you. Strictly off the record.” She ran her thumb over Sole’s knuckles and hoped Sole couldn’t hear her heart beating violently in her chest. “Do you know how much I personally admire you? Because I don’t have enough paper to make an article on all that.”

Nick: Living in Diamond City wasn’t always easy, especially being a synth. Even though he found missing loved ones almost every week, the citizens side-eyed him when they thought he couldn’t see. Children pulled on his jacket when they knew they could out-run him. Women laughed behind his back after he paid them a compliment. Sometimes it felt like Sole was the only one who saw him as his own man.

As luck would have it, Sole volunteered to help Nick sort out cases when Ellie caught a cold. She knew he was more than capable of organizing his own work, but the two friends would make any excuse to spend time together. Nick handed Sole a folder about a missing woman. Her husband had come in a week ago asking Nick for help, but the case had eventually gone cold. “He was hysterical when he came in the office,” Nick recollected. “His eyes were red and swollen from crying. I’ve never seen a man more down on his luck. It took hours to calm Ellie down, poor girl. Seein’ a guy that worried made all our stomachs churn.”

“I wish someone cared about me that much,” Sole said. She continued to thumb through the file, not realizing what she said was unusual. 

“What does that mean?” Nick asked. He took the folder from Sole’s hands, and she pretended to pout. “I’m serious, Sole. Why do you think no one would go lookn’ for you?”

“I’m not really worth it, I guess,” she said. “You have a purpose here in Diamond City. You do a lot of good for a lot of people, Nick. But me? All I’ve done is tear people down. Hell, I couldn’t even help my own son. You wouldn’t honestly risk your neck for me.”

Nick was partially insulted, but mostly surprised. He thought Sole knew how wild he was about her. He wanted to spend all his time with her either solving cases or drinking at the Third Rail talking about a better future for the Commonwealth. “Don’t fill your head with silly ideas,” he said. His face was stern, but his words were sweet. “I’d go to the ends of the Earth if I knew I’d keep you safe.” That was unexpected, but Nick didn’t want to take it back. It earned him a soft hand-squeeze from Sole, and an appreciative smile.

X6-88: Sole needed a break outside of the Institute after realizing Shaun was its leader. X6 was sworn to protect her, and didn’t hesitate to follow her back to Sanctuary. He had learned a lot about Sole from the excess time they spent traveling together. She cared about random settlers, even when they had nothing to give her in return. Whenever someone tried to hold her up for caps, she listened to their tragic backstories and was able to convince them to change their ways. Everything spoiled in the Commonwealth seemed to sweeten when she was around.

“FUCK THIS!” Sole’s shaky voice pulled X6 out of his thoughts. He readied his firearm, assuming they were under attack. Instead, he saw Sole kick over a trashcan. She was fuming. “He was the last person I thought I had left and he doesn’t even know me!” Sole was obviously talking about Shaun. Instead of trying to correct her, X6 let her vent. “It’s like he isn’t even my son anymore. He’s not the kind of man Nate and I wanted to raise. He commits genocide. He terrorizes the Commonwealth. And if he… if he doesn’t love me…” Sole used the back of her hand to childishly wipe her tears. “No one does.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” X6′s voice was cool as always, but his words didn’t match his usual demeanor. “You are a beacon of hope in this world. I have never seen you put yourself before anyone else. I am sure that as you and Father grow closer, you will come to realize there are many people who care about you.” A pause. “Including me.”

Bonus!Gage: Bloodied and bruised. It was how Sole always seemed to come back to Fitzztop Grille. Whether she was out scouting for the raiders or just got in a regular ol’ fight, Gage could expect Sole to be beaten to a pulp by the end of the day. As she stumbled in at the end of the night, Gage was already waiting at the top of the elevator. Except this time, Sole was hurt. Bad.

“Well shit, boss!” He was actually pissed off. It was hard enough watching Sole walk off by herself and straight towards danger every day. Gage didn’t know why, but he had this insatiable desire to protect her. Maybe he just admired her skills, right? But instead of greeting his friend with some patronizing words, he watched her hold her eye that was swollen shut. Sole’s clothes were ripped, and he could see bruises across her ribs. As soon as she stepped in to the room she stumbled forward. Gage hoisted her in his arms and carried her to the bed. “Did you let every raider south of Kiddie Kingdom take a crack at you?” He was trying to sound mildly annoyed, but the worry in his eyes was telling. Good thing Sole couldn’t see him with her blurry vision.

“I got jumped coming home,” she wheezed. Her voice sounded fragile. If Gage got too angry, he could shatter her. “Don’t w-waste… your breath on me, Gage. Just go home. I can take care… take… care of m-m-myself.” He noticed she was shivering. And since it was hot as balls outside, it had to be from the pain. “Nobody deserves to pick up my pieces.”

“Aw, shut the hell up,” he growled. “You’re so fuckn’ dramatic, you know that?” Gage pulled out the first-aid kit from behind the bar and rolled out some gauze for Sole’s wounds. “You already know I’m in your corner. So quit your crocodile tears and strip. It’s gonna take this whole roll to bandage your sorry ass up.” That was actually the kindest thing Gage had ever said to her. And even when Sole took off her clothes, he avoided looking her over. It didn’t seem fair since she couldn’t catch him. Where was the fun in not getting smacked by his favorite girl?

[imagine-darksiders]

What would the horsemen think of their friend (not s/o) who is not used to having positive attention to her/him bc in the past s/he was abused by their parents and starved of affection and attention so they’re all used to being alone. Bc I understand that feeling 🤷🏻‍♀️

I’m so sorry, but I ran out of steam during War’s and Fury’s. They’re both in the works though, so I’ll try and upload them soon.

In the meantime, here’s Strife and Death. Being all nice????!!

xxxx

Strife: “Hey! You hit all the targets! Good job kid!”

The gunslinging horseman stands behind you as you aim your pistol down a makeshift firing range that he’d set up to test your accuracy. You jolt violently away from him when you spot his clawed hand raise towards your shoulder. 

“NO!” you shout, ducking beneath your arms and cowering away from him. 

Strife immediately freezes, bewildered by your manic reaction. Staring at his hand for a moment, he raises an eyebrow. “The Hell? I didn’t even touch you, what happened?” 

Hesitantly, you lower your arms slightly to peer over them at your friend. “I-I thought you said I did a good job!” you whimper, “Why were you going to hit me?” 

Strife’s head jerks back as though you’d just struck him physically. “Hit you? What in the hell would I do that for? I was just gonna do this.” With that, he once more stretches his hand out towards your arm. You tense and slam your eyes shut tightly. A few seconds pass without incident, but then, all of a sudden, you feel a warm palm gently pat your shoulder. 

Cracking open one eye, you swivel it around to watch as Strife retracts his hand and rests it on his hip instead. 

“See?” he chuckles, “Can’t believe you thought I was gonna hit you.” The horseman shakes his head with a laugh, but it soon fades when he sees you avert your eyes and stare off into the distance. “Hey,” he calls out, ducking his head slightly to try and catch your attention, “What gives, kiddo? What’s with all the reticence?” He notices the way you’re clutching at the sleeves of your jumper and downright refusing to meet his gaze. Sighing, Strife straightens up again and purses his lips at you, scratching the back of his head. “Hey, I get it,” he starts. 

You finally flick your eyes back in his direction, regarding him cautiously. The horseman grins when he meets your stare, continuing, “I ain’t exactly the most gentle guy around. So you’re scared I’ll accidentally hurt you, right?” He says this cheerfully enough, but his eyes flash with a sliver of hurt. 

“No, that’s not it, Strife,” you sigh. As reluctant as you are to confess your past to the horseman, you can’t bear the thought of your friend thinking that you don’t trust him not to hurt you. Because you do trust him, completely. “I know you’d never hurt me, I just….” 

Frustrated, you run your hands into your hair and grip the strands hard, tugging them as you whine desperately, trying to find the right words. Sighing, you let your chin drop onto your chest. “…I’m not….used to this,” you whisper, at last. 

Strife squints one eye down at you and dips his head. “Huh?” 

With a groan, you jerk your hands out and gesture to the horseman. “This. This! I’m not used to…this!” Your voice catches in your throat, making you cringe at how childish you sound. “You, treating me like a friend. Patting me on the shoulder, saying ‘good job!’ My own mum and dad never did anything like that. It’s all so…..so….” Trailing off, you let your arms fall limply at your sides even as the horseman steps closer to you hesitantly. 

Strife studies you for a while, taking the time to absorb the things you’re saying. At last, he exhales softly.

“So….Rough home life, huh kid?” 

Surprised, you blink, hard. “H-how’d you know?” 

Strife shrugs and sniffs, swiping a hand under his mask’s nose. “S’not that hard to figure out. So. Your parents sucked, huh? Not that I’d know about that. Didn’t have any myself. Well, there was Death, but he’s an asshole. Then again, even he used to say ‘well done’ every now and then, so I guess he wasn’t that bad….” Strife comes to a stop when he realises that he’s just rambling on at you now.

Smiling behind his mask, the horseman slowly lifts his fist up to your face. Though you watch it carefully, you don’t flinch away when he lightly knuckles your chin playfully. “Well, you’d better get used to all this,” he states, gesturing up and down his body, “Because like it or not, you’re stuck with me. No more of this ‘lone wolf’ bullshit for either of us, okay?” 

A quiet hum of laughter oozes from your lips. Smiling minutely, you nod up at your friend. “Okay,” you agree.

He puffs out his chest proudly and regards you with an empathetic look. “Guess we’re both just a couple of kids who had to grow up too fast,” he rumbles softly. Strife doesn’t say it out loud, but you know he’s referring to becoming a horseman. One minute, he’s a happy-go-lucky, foul-mouthed Nephilim, the next, participating in mass genocide. A decision like that would age anyone.

“Yeah,” you whisper, “I guess so.”

Neither of you speak for a while, which strikes you as odd. For your friend to be silent for more than five seconds in a row is highly peculiar. But as you watch him carefully, you find that he’s looking at you with a deeply thoughtful expression in his eyes. If you strain your ears, you can faintly hear him humming to himself. 

Without warning, Strife easily closes the distance between you both and you tense noticeably before being enveloped in a near-suffocating hug. Shock courses through you yet again and you wonder what on Earth you’d done to deserve an impromptu display of affection. 

“St-Strife!?” you squeak, faintly pushing on his chest, unsure of what you ought to be doing with your arms. Instead of letting you pull away from him though, the horseman furls his strong forearms even further around your body and bends his head to rest it on top of yours. He seems reluctant to release you just yet. 

“Take it easy kid.” You can feel his chin move against your hair when he speaks. “Way I figure it,” he murmurs softly, “You’ve got a lot of lost affection to make up for. And it looks like I gotta be the one to dish it out because your deadbeat parents sure as Hell ain’t here to do it.” Pulling away from you slightly, though not enough to let you go, Strife gives you a lazy wink. “Can’t have my best bud feeling like crap now, can I? You ever want me to tell you you’re awesome, just give me a shout.” With that, he finally removes his hands from your back and gives you the space to escape his hold. 

It’s a strange thing though. You hadn’t realised just how starved for some - any kind of positive connection you’d actually been. With Strife around, you’d suddenly become aware of what you’d been missing out on all these years. On Earth, before the apocalypse, you’d just accepted your solitude because you thought it was what you deserved. Then out of nowhere, this loud, boisterous, hard-headed horseman had come careening into your life and opened your eyes to how things could have - should have been. 

As you clench your fists to fight back the wave on oncoming tears, you gently tilt your head forwards, letting it clunk against Strife’s armoured chest. Suddenly home doesn’t feel quite so far away. 

Death: With an excited squeal of triumph, you throw your arms up into the air, a crude, wooden staff clenched between your fingers. You’d finally, finally managed to nail the parry that Death had been trying to teach you for the past few days.  

The horseman is equally pleased. It’s been a long time since he’s had someone to spar with and you’d vastly improved since he found you. He’s actually, dare he say it, quite…..proud. 

“Well,” the horseman sighs, slinging his arm around your shoulder. “It only took you four days to master a very basic tactic, but somehow, you persevered.” To show you that his words held no bite, he allows his free hand to fall on top of your head and starts to mess up your meticulously detangled hair, only because he knew it would probably annoy you. But the large, cadaverous hand that ruffles your hair slows to a halt when Death notices how rigid you’d gone beneath his arm. “Y/n?” he calls. 

No response. 

You can only stare straight ahead, enraptured by the soothing sensation of having your hair tousled, as simple a gesture as it is. Suddenly, you become aware of Death leaning his head down to peer at your face, curiosity and concern swimming behind his eyes. “Y/n? Are you alright?” 

Shaking your head slightly, you relax and blush furiously. “Y-yeah! I’m fine.” Uncertainty roils in your stomach, but it’s swiftly overtaken by the mind-boggling desire to feel that mundane but desperately needed gesture of affection once again. You swallow your pride and take a breath before asking, “Could you, uh…Could you maybe do that again?” 

His arm is still slung around your shoulder when he rumbles in confusion. “Do what?” 

But inevitably, you lose your nerve at his question, so you just shrug and say, “Nothing. Doesn’t matter.” 

The horseman eyes you as you heave a great sigh and start trying to escape from under his arm, but he tightens it significantly when he realises what you’d been referring to. “Ah,” he exclaims, knowingly, “you mean this?”  

Without warning, Death drags you backwards into his chest and brings his free hand up to dishevel your hair once more. 

“DEATH!” you squawk, wriggling half-heartedly to get out of his grasp. Truthfully, you’re indescribably desperate to feel even a modicum of tenderness. But you have to at least pretend to put up a fight, for the sake of your pride.

 The horseman’s secret grin grows beneath his mask when you let out a burst of laughter and too-easily succumb to his gentle pestering. 

“War used to hate it if I did this to him,” he sighs wistfully, “he’d get so angry, it was…. amusing…..” The reaper trails off and he stills, giving you a moment to catch your breath. When you twist your head up to peer at Death again, he’s got a faraway look in his eyes. 

“Feeling nostalgic?” you probe. 

Coming back into himself, he meets your curious face. “Just….remembering the easier times.” The longing in his tone appears to catch him off guard. Death grunts and waves his hand about dismissively. “Bah, reminiscing about the past never changes the present.” 

“True,” you nod, pursing your lips and picking at the bandages on his arm that’s got you in a loose headlock, “but it’s good to look back on the happy times. Makes you remember that life hasn’t always been a train wreck. If there can be good moments in the past, who’s to say that good can’t happen again in the future?” 

Death’s only response is a quiet hum of acquiescence.

A heavy silence settles over the pair of you, thick and tangible, but not uncomfortable. The horseman busies himself untangling you from his gentle hold. He steps back whilst you turn around to face him.

Eventually, you break the silence in a small, timid voice. “They’re lucky to have had you as a big brother, you know.” Then, more quietly, “I wish I’d had a dad like you, growing up.”

A scoff bursts from Death’s throat, startling you. “I can assure you, Y/n, you do not…. Although I do appreciate the sentiment.”

Emboldened by the unfamiliar warmth settling in your chest, you shake your head and step towards him, frantically gripping his large hand with both of yours and giving it an urgent squeeze. 

“No, you don’t understand! You look after me! You don’t ignore me! You never make me feel like I’ve been forgotten and I know you don’t say it, but you actually care when I get hurt!” 

“Your own parents didn’t?” he raises a skeptical eyebrow, “I thought it was basic human nature to protect their young?” 

Frowning bitterly, you sniff and mumble, “not all humans.…” The ghosts of unshed tears begin to form behind your eyelids, but you make an impressive attempt to keep them at bay. 

Understanding immediately dawns in Death’s eyes. He exhales softly, finally giving your small hands a responsive squeeze and letting his eyelids flutter shut. “I see….” 

Gently, the horseman coaxes you forward by pulling your arm until you’re standing closer to him. He glances around, checking to see that there are no prying eyes, then crouches down to get a better look at you. “Well,” he rumbles softly, “it’s a good thing you’re sticking with me then.” Death’s hands reach out to rest on your shoulders and he rubs them comfortingly in an attempt to stop your tears from falling. “I know I’m not always the best company,” he sighs, “I’m certainly not ‘parent’ material and quite frankly, I’m terrible at comforting anyone. But I suppose, for you, I could squeeze in a kind word or two.” 

Sniffling, you peek up and catch Death’s coltish wink. Swallow a thick lump in your throat, you press your lips together to stop the sob from escaping, then launch yourself forwards, colliding with the horseman and throwing your arms around his neck. 

Long, black hair tickles your nose as you bury your face into his shoulder and cowl, feeling a hesitant hand delicately cup the back of your head whist its partner wraps itself around your side and tucks you even further into Death’s body. The horseman’s insides roil at the thought that you’d had to endure your childhood alone and unappreciated during what should have been the best years of your life. It’s a little known fact that Death has a well-concealed soft spot for children. 

“Just…don’t go asking for hugs in front of anyone else, alright?” he chuckles drily, “I still have a reputation to uphold.” 

You giggle and take a steadying breath to fix the shake in your voice. “I won’t.” Heart feeling lighter than it has in years, you whisper into his ear, “Death?”  In response, he shifts his head slightly, humming curiously. 

“Thank you,” you breathe.

Death nods almost imperceptibly, allowing his eyes to fall closed for a rare, peaceful moment. Suddenly, they snap open again when a thought crosses his mind. 

‘Did I just adopt a human?’