#IS JUST A BOY WHY MUST HE SUFFER THE MISTAKE OF HIS FATHER?

[pressure-ask-fitzroy]

Fitzroy thought for a bit, while looking at his son and placing a hand gently over his head once again… his memories are hazy and he honestly can not remove much of how he become a father to almost all the void masses, he not sure if he even remember everything correctly.

“No, I am not his or any of the void masses biological father. I simply adopted them all as my own children… I used to be a scientist you know? I wasn’t one of the higher ones so I wasn’t aware of the human experiments and all the horrible things the company were doing… I mean I knew about how they just want to use entities they found as a mean to make money but that was about it.”

“One day, they brought Z-V0 to the site and I was assigned to look after it…. Before I knew it I grew attached to those little guys so much so… I….”

He stopped talking for a bit… his memories suddenly going hazy…. maybe he shouldn’t explain it in detail, he dose not truly trust his own memories anyway.

“A-anyway! is needless to say the 'Devil' did not like my new fondness over them so I ended up being stripped away from my title and became one of their many lab rats. After all you can see by my skin how the void mass still affects me in some ways and since I grew an immunity to it at this rate… they wanted to find out how so they can have it for themselves.”

“They didn’t figure it out yet though!… Anyway~ as of why I came here, they of course send me since they thought having someone who is more familiar with the place may help making finding the crystal becomes easier but but like I bother to actually do it anyway…. Is not like they gonna send me free anyway even if I brought it back.”

“…. Okay I ramble too much but I hope that answer your questions! Any other one?”

Ah- it seem he really doesn’t mind sharing all of those info with others huh?

Comet was in own do the safe rooms, checking some files he happens to find in the way here. Not much to them honestly, maybe Sebastian can find a use for the and-

His train of thought was immediately cut off when he felt something wrapping around his hand… nervously and slowly, Comet looked down to see what could possibly has his hand hostage.

Much to his surprise it was… a child? N-no it’s more like a humanoid blue void mass?!

“ₕᵁₘᴬₙ… ˢₕᴵₙʸ?!”

It spoke!?

It seem as if it not hostile though. If anything it seem as if that void mass was attracted by Comet’s sparkling skin!

- Nox

(@pressure-ask-fitzroy)

Oh hello there! Are you lost..?

*Comet wasn't too surprised by the allure, many times the glittering has sent eyefest into a frenzy.. it broke the glass flooding a room once, that was fun time, totally*

Do you need anything to eat perhaps?

*Comet remember the voidmass well, always hungery*

[thewritetofreespeech]

Tender Loving Care

pairing: Aemond x Reader

summary: after a training accident, Aemond's wife takes care of him. In more ways than one.

tags: heterosexual sex, cowgirl, massage, hand job, cum eating, cranky Aemond is a good boy for his wife, mentions of the other members of the Green but not present.

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Training accidents were as common as breathing if one wanted to master the sword.

If one wanted to hold a blade, then one must also be prepared to suffer its bite. Aemond was well aware of this. Even though it was just training, play fighting for the knights & instructors brought in from all over Westeros to teach the prince, he had been cut before. Nothing serious. Nothing like his eye. He wishes it had been. It would make this latest injury less wounding than the others.

A simple misstep, that was all. His own clumsiness was what put him in this bed. His leg wasn’t broken or maimed, but twisted in his fall, to the point that he could put no weight on it. Or at least that was what the maesters said.

2 weeks. That was the punishment for his own mistake. He was not to leave this bed save to relieve himself and the few moments a day he was granted to stand & test his legs progress. Each day was a new torment. Not for the pain, Aemond could handle that, but the failure of trying his leg and only have it betray him again & again. He wondered how his father did it all those years trapped in his bed. Aemond would have begged for death sooner.

“Husband,” the prince looked up from his window and thoughts of limping over to throw himself out of it, when his wife’s voice came into the room.

One of his few constant visitors during his confinement. Helaena came to visit him but was busy with her children. Aegon only came once, to taunt him about his trip more than anything before he left and a back handed ‘get better Aemond the Fierce!’. His mother came as well but flapped between concern and scolding for his ‘recklessness’. She was the only one who seemed genuinely concerned for him, though her concern was not needed. Aemond did not wish to feel more like an invalid than he already did. “What is it?”

“It is time to change the bandage on her leg.” To keep it straight. To keep him bound, he thought with a spat, although Aemond arched a brow at the comment.

“Where is the maester?” His wife was many things, but she was no practitioner of medicine nor magic.

She sighed. “Did you really expect them to come back willingly after last time?” Aemond pursed his lips.

Under the best of circumstances, Aemond was aware that he was not the most agreeable person in the realm. Could anyone really blame him? His existence had taught him over & over that it was better to lash out and cut first, lest you be the one who is sliced. Metaphorically, of course. He wasn’t a mad man like some of his ancestors. And attached to this bed the only weapon at his disposal was his words. He had cursed, jeered, and ranted, honestly uncharacteristic of himself, at the maester who had attended to his leg the day before and had the nerve to tell him his progress was splendid. If it was so splendid then why was he still in this bed? If he was such a great man of knowledge and skill, why hadn’t he healed him yet?! He should go back to whatever dung heap he crawled out of and beg alms for to the gods for wasting a fine Citadel education on an incompetent!!

The prince said a few more unkind things before he forbade any of them from touching him again. He did not think they would take him seriously.

“So, they sent you to do the work of a common barrio healer since they do not wish to do their jobs?”

“I think it was more that they thought you wouldn’t scratch at me. More fool they then, hn?”

Aemond sunk further into his pillows, sulking. He doesn’t mean to scratch at her. He doesn’t mean to scratch at any of them, honestly. He just wanted to get out of his bed and go on with his life. To have the world move on around him, to grow weak and irrelevant in this bed, was the real punishment. “I’m sorry.” He apologized. “…thank you…for helping me…”

“You’re welcome Aemond.”

How quick she was to accept his apology. How quick she was to help him, already coming to his side despite his scratching, when he needed her. No wonder he was always alone….

The prince did what he could for her as he raised his leg from the pillow propping it up and held it there while she unwrapped the old dressing. “Are you sure you know what you are doing?” It was not meant as a slight. Just a genuine curiosity on if she knew the proper way to wrap his injury.

His wife just chuckled. “Yes, Aemond. Despite not wanting to come in here on their own, the maesters did instruct me on how to do it properly.” Cowards, he thought. “There! All done.”

Aemond looked at his leg with his good eye and tried to flex at his foot. His nostrils flared at the persistent pain, but it was wrapped correctly. He was impressed. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I want you healed as soon as possible as well.” Her hand reached for his on the bed and clasped it. “In fact…I was told of another treatment….one that might help with the…circulation in your leg.”

“Oh?” Aemond was curious about that. Trapped in this bed, his legs were not getting the work out that they normally would. Training aside, the walk around the castle was enough exercise for most lords. He hadn’t been able to go more than a few steps for days. His legs teetered between weightlessness and the sharp pricks of falling asleep all the time. “Will it improve my condition?”

“It….could…” She seemed unconvinced. Avoiding, even. But perhaps that was because the last person who made remarks about the improvement of his condition was threatened to be fed to Vhagar. “Will you let me try it?”

What was there to lose, he thought, and Aemond nodded before he helped her take off his lower bed linens so both his legs were bare. A small vial appeared out from her pocket, and she poured some of its contents onto her hands before rubbing them together and placing them on his leg. “Just…try to relax for me.”

A hefty ask, but he does try. All he could do recently was ‘try to relax’. ‘Rest, my prince’, ‘you need time to heal’. It was all he had heard for the past days, to the point that any word close to ‘relax’ had almost the opposite effect on him. But for her, he does try. For her it worked a little. His shoulders finally untensing. Looking at her in the candlelight. Soft feelings swelling at the touch of her soft hands. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes.” He answered, almost without thinking. It did feel good. He didn’t realize how stiff his leg was until this moment.

Aemond let out a deep exhale. Not really a sigh, just the release of all the air in his lungs and tension built in his body. His eye closed as he laid back and let his wife work. They aren’t strong, but persistent. He continued to enjoy until he felt her hands shift up higher. Up his calf where his injury was to above his knee. “What are you doing?”

“What??” Her shocked face was particularly adorable in the soft light. Wide, wild eyes. Body frozen save for a soft tremble in her shoulders. “I..I’m rubbing your leg. I told you.”

“My injury is not there though.” He told her logically. Gaze still fixed on her for any kind of reveal.

“I…I know…” Her hands shift to seem to want to move away from him, but she willed them to stay still. “I just thought…maybe there was some other tension I could help you with….”

It was Aemond’s turn to be shocked, but he doesn’t show it on his face like she does. His wife was a lady. A demure, kind, noble one at that. Though she wasn’t nearly as boring & cow eyed as the other noble ladies on offer to him at the time of his betrothal, or so Aemond assumed as he didn’t pay much attention to any of them, boldness like this was not heard of in their marriage. She never denied him. Seemed fond of when they were together; or at least made all the right noises like she did. But it was always he who initiated such acts in their bedroom. To see her offer, and on offer, as he finally took in her appearance and the thin robe she had come to him in, Aemond would not deny that it was quite arousing.

Without another word, Aemond parted his legs further to give her room. If this was her intention, he would not deny her. There was a flush on her cheeks that bleed down her neck towards the V of her robe when he did this. Her resolve seeming to waiver, and disappointment started to drip into his chest at the prospect he may have ruined this too with his terrible attitude, but she continued.

The prince sighed. Gladdened to feel her hands on him again and closed his eye with a newfound desire for his treatment, now that he knew what was going on. “Higher.”

“Here?”

Her coquettish tone was a tonic to his ears. She was enjoying this. She was enjoying touching him and playing with him. His cock jumped as it filled fuller. More aroused by the fact that his wife truly did want him than her hands close, but not close enough, to his member. “Higher.”

“Here?”

Aemond opened his eye and genuinely growled at his wife. Though this game was amusing, enticing, it had been days since he’d found release. Being stuck in this bed did not really spur a person on towards desire. And though she laid with him at night like a good wife she had been spared from her ‘wifely duties’ for some time as Aemond was either still in too much pain from his leg, or unable to move it to perform the act, or in too bad of a mood to make the effort. Having her close. Feeling her touch. It was like the flood gates opened on a dam he had long since locked up and threw away the key on. “Please….”

His kind, noble, demure wife took pity on him, and also took his cock in her hand. Aemond’s head tilted back as he moaned. Her soft hands stroking his member from under his night shirt slowly, deliberately. She had touched him before, so she knew how he liked it, but honestly she could have touched him anyway she liked. Like a clumsy novice that first night they were together, and he still would have melted in her hands.

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes.” Again, without thought. But headier this time. More needy. He opened his eye to look upon his wife and found her staring at him. Those bright eyes darkened with desire. He’d never seen it before; mostly because when they were together her face was either buried in his chest, or shoulder, or in the pillows. Aemond bit his bottom lip hard. Trying not to cum at just the sight of her.

“It’s ok.” She told him in a whisper. Like it was a secret between the two of them. “You can let go husband. Will you let go for me?”

It was the softest command that Aemond had ever heard, and yet it forced him to obey more than any other. His back pressed further back into the pillows as his head tilted back again. His cock spasming in her hand as his seed leapt out from the tip. Covering her hand and perhaps getting some on her pretty robe by her knee. He would have to get her another one.

He opened his eye again after coming down from his high. Just in time to see her lick his seed off the palm of her hand. “What are you doing?”

“Well, the royal seed is sacred, is it not?” Her grin was soft, but mischievous. “We should not waste it.”

Aemond’s hand darted out to grab hold of her arm and drag her down to him in a deep, needy kiss. Apparently the flood gates he thought were released earlier were in truth just a leak in the levees. This was when the dam broke now. The need he had for her burning so hot that he could almost taste blood at the back of his tongue, his blood was boiling so hot.

He tried to spread his legs wider to make more room for his wife, but when he moved, he was reminded (painfully) of his injury. “Damnit!” The prince hissed against his wife’s lips. The throbbing in his leg almost in tandem with his cock.

“Sssh…it’s ok Aemond.” He wanted to bite at her soft words.

It was not ok! None of this was ok! He was injured, in pain, stuck in this bed, and now he couldn’t even fuck his wife! He felt useless. He felt angry. He felt humiliated not being able to do things as a man should, and he just wanted to get back to normal!

Before he could tell her any of this, however, his wife pulled back and removed her robe from her body. Mesmerizing in the fire light. No Valyrian alabaster, but still just as dazzling to Aemond. Shift discarded, his wife raised her hips and inched closer to hover them over his own. “The maester said not to move unless absolutely necessarily.” He wanted to argue that laying with his wife was absolutely necessarily, particularly in this moment, but all his words left him on a moan as she lowered herself onto him. “So you just stay there. L-Let me take care of you.” The little stammer in her voice as she started rolling her hips almost sent Aemond into a frenzy, but he endured.

He genuinely couldn’t move with her on top of him like this and his position on the bed. Though why would be want to? For the first time since his accident, Aemond was actually ecstatic to be stuck here in this bed. His wife lovingly impaling herself on his member. Riding him with skill just short of a dragon rider. If he had the wits still about him, he would have chuckled at his own joke. ‘Dragon rider’. As it was though he was stupid with lust. Dumb, witless, helpless at her mercy as she took from him everything and gave him back so much. He still had brains at least to return the favor.

His wife cried out when he reached up to cup her breast. The weight of them in his hands something he missed. Aemond does not get a lot of time to enjoy them, however, as his wife suddenly fell forward. Covering his body with her own. Hips still moving but at a much snappier pace with the depleted gap between them. He didn’t care though. His hands just repositioned themselves on her other mounds at her backside and pressed her to move faster.

“A-Aemond!” Her cries were his music. The tempo in which he set a new rhythm.

The wet sound of their sexes kissing along with their actual kissing fill the room, until it all stopped in one bright, shining moment of his wife shaking on top of him while her fists tried to fight his pillows and he spilled inside her this time.

He wished he could hold her like this for longer. Her weight a comfort, like a blanket, in his arms. But she rolled over onto his non-injured side to lay beside him. It was good enough. “Do you feel better now?”

Aemond looked down at her, having to turn his head completely as to not just look at her with the sapphire in his eye, realizing at last what this was about. Her idea of a good will effort. To lift his spirits and relieve his tension. Maybe keep him from trying to execute more of the maesters in the castle. “Yes. I’m feeling better.”

She smiled, then placed a soft kiss on his shoulder. “Good.”

The fingers from the hand around her own shoulders played with her hair as he stared at the ceiling. “Was this all just for me though?”

His wife looked at him with a perplexed look, but then realized what he was asking and blushed. She was smart enough to figure it out. “Not…all of it. I did want you to be in better spirits but…I have missed you.”

The corner of Aemond’s lips ticked up. Pleased, and pleased with himself. He did not think his sexual prowess was worth much compared to his prowess with a sword or strategy. But to hear that his wife wanted him, truly wanted him, was all the praise he would ever need. “So, you came up with this idea to satisfy both of us, ābrazyrys.”

“It wasn’t….all my idea…” Aemond arched a brow at his wife’s words. Curious now where she had got the idea from, as it had clearly come from somewhere. “Aegon commented on your bad mood and how someone should ‘cheer you up’. He gave me the idea, but the rest of it was all my doing.”

Aemond wasn’t sure which comment he was more shocked about. The fact that his brother knew how he was faring in his recovery, or the fact that he made lewd comments to his wife. He was battering between feelings of an odd sense of touched and white hot furry, but he decided to just let it go for now and enjoy his wife. “Well, thank you, regardless. In future I will try not to scratch at you while I am still confined to this bed. Lest you ask.”

She giggled when he kissed the top of her forehead. “And the maesters?”

“They are on their own.” Idiots. “I make no promises on their safety, but I will…endeavor to be of better character in the future.” At least not threaten to feed them to Vhagar. That seemed a reasonable adjustment.

[ranbowkng]

His Kingdom, His Power, My Glory

Gary thinks it'll be a good idea to infiltrate the church. A tired priest, with an adorable face, reminds him why that's a bad idea.

Gary smirked as he pulled the hood of his jacket tighter. This plan was genius. Why keep sending cultists to sneak into the church in the dead of night to make a mess of things when he could just spark turmoil in the middle of the day. The best part, they wouldn't kick him out, and they wouldn't know he was doing it. Perfect.

"Morning Father," he nodded, walking right past the priest standing at the door, greeting church-goers.

"Good morning! I- oh hold on!" The priest grabbed Gary by the sleeve, pulling him back slightly, "You're new here aren't you?"

"Ah, was it that obvious?" Gary smiled, fearing that his genius may have betrayed him already.

"Just a bit," The priest chuckled. Gary got a good look at him, he had dark brown hair, and royal blue eyes that seemed to glow. Gary could have gotten lost in that expression for hours, but he had a mission to attend to, he had far more important manners than pretty boys to worry about, "We actually have a rule, no hats or hoods in the congregation."

"Oh? My apologies," Gary said, pulling his hood down, "My old church was a bit less strict."

"No sunglasses either unfortunately," the priest smiled, but his grip on Gary's sleeve tightened.

"Afraid I can't do that," Gary said, "Got a bad eye disease. Don't wanna scare the kids away."

"Hmm," the priest's look was brimming with disappointment, but he resigned, "Alright then, we will keep you in our prayers, but please consider how you're affecting other members of the church."

"Yes, sorry Father," Gary chuckled, wanting to sigh in relief. He would not have been able to explain the peculiar case of his eyes to the priest.

Once he took a seat, he grinned ear to ear. What a fool the priest must have been to believe such a stupid lie. Regardless, the sermon was starting soon. From here Gary would be able to learn just what happens at a church service, and just how he can tear it apart.

As it turns out, there was too much sitting and standing. Too much listening and not nearly enough talking. Too much and not enough of everything, it was mind numbingly dull. Not even the Order would stoop so low as to make it's devoted followers sit for an hour doing nothing with no freedom to move.

But Gary-begrudgingly-endured it. He was certain that eventually something would happen that would be worth it. Then again, if he had to endure one more of those godforsaken psalms! They weren't quite songs, because a song required being good.

Eventually he found something, a payoff. The priest who had greeted him at the door had finished reading the gospel, and he spoke directly to the audience.

"God loves us all," he began, speaking slowly. You could hear the sound of his careful thought between each word he spoke, "The other day a woman had come to me asking how I knew."

This was perfect! If he wasn't reading off of the text then that only meant one thing, an open discussion. And when people spoke without reading off of their source, they were prone to making mistakes. And one slip up would be enough to pick him apart piece by piece.

"So I was open with her," he said, "I have suffered loss, divorce, and failures over and over again."

"Sounds like God hates you!" Gary shouted. As soon as he spoke everyone turned to him. A smirk was plastered on his face. He'd win over the crowd in twelve seconds flat.

The priest just gave him a tired glare before he continued speaking, "Despite my grievances, I still have the privilege of waking up every day. I have a new chance to prove myself every day. And the Lord tells me that I am his child and he will continue walking with me."

"I thought Jesus was the only son of God!" Gary yelled. He did his homework. Well, he read just enough to know where the hypocrisies stood out.

"We are all children of God under Abraham," the priest spoke through grit teeth, "We will be going over that next week."

"Sounds like God needs to close his legs!" Gary's smirk was growing into a grin.

"Alright," the priest took a deep breath, "Let's start over, since you clearly seem confused. I was trying to explain to a woman that God loves her and is with her through her every struggle. And to do so, I used my own life as an example."

"How did you manage to prove it?" Gary said, "Hey! Father! How do you know it's actually God talking!? Are you-"

"Some of us clearly need to start working on our relationship with the Lord!" The priest said, his chest rising and falling quickly as he tried to calm himself, "Some far, far more than others, but regardless. God is patient and will wait for us until the end of time."

"If God's so patient why are you getting so upset?" Gary argued.

"God is a patient man, I am not," John said calmly, "And that's okay! Because God gives us strength. Strength to overcome any challenge like frustration, or an inability to respect your church leaders."

"I fail to see how-"

"God gives us strength!" The priest spoke over him, "I believe we all have it in us to become better people through the Lord. Amen!"

Gary wanted to speak up, but the congregation seems to have accepted it was time to shut up. Unbelievable. How does a man who looks so pathetic manage to control the situation so well? Oh well, at least he can still figure out the weak points in the sermon simply by listening.

Meanwhile, said priest was glaring at him. A far older priest had taken over, but he still was looking straight through Gary with furrowed brows. Gary stared back, not that the priest could see past his sunglasses.

When the sermon was over, Gary was about ready to collapse. How does an hour of doing absolutely nothing become so exhausting? He would never blame his acolytes for their boredom during a meeting ever again.

He stood, prepared to leave, only to be stopped.

"Excuse me sir," it was the priest. He had gripped Gary by the sleeve, a soft smile on his face, "May I speak with you for a minute?"

Gary tried not to let his confident smirk falter, "Of course! What can I do for you?"

The priest chuckled slightly, "Oh no, I meant at the front. I have a couple things I'd like to discuss with you."

"Ah," Gary said. Had he been anywhere else, there was no doubt in his mind he'd be able to strike down the priest with a single glance, but this was a church. He was already weakened here, but this is where the priest would thrive. And yet, he was cocky, "Well, I don't see why not."

"Good," the priest said, "Follow me."

The priest waited for the entire congregation to leave. He stared up at the stained glass window as he waited to be alone with Gary. Gary kept a hand in his pocket, rubbing over his claw-like nails.

"I can explain," Gary said, "It's actually my first time in a catholic church, I didn't know the proper proceedings for the gospel."

"No no, I have to thank you," John said, "When one questions the bible, it means they simply wish to apply it to their life. I'm glad you gave me the opportunity to expand on what I had to say."

"Wait, really?" Gary said.

"Of course," the priest said, his nails digging into his palms, "Although, I would like to make a request." He turned towards Gary.

"Oh?" Gary raised an eyebrow, "What can I do for you?"

"Take off your sunglasses," John said, "I'd like to look you in the eyes when we speak."

"But my eyes-"

"I am not a child," the priest said calmly, "I will not panic at the sight."

"But-"

"Is that a no?" The priest asked. Gary felt that he didn't have a choice.

"Yes, of course," Gary said, reaching for his glasses, slowly taking them off. He and the priest's eyes never stopped looking on to each other.

"Mmm," the priest looked at his eyes, black with glowing red irises, "You're a demon."

"Nonsense!" I'm a normal human being just like you!" Gary argued.

"I'm no fool," the priest said, "I knew you were a demon from the moment I saw your face. Your eyes are a simple confirmation."

"I apologize," Gary said, "I simply needed information about the church."

"I'm afraid that this isn't your territory," the priest said, "Now I have to request you leave before I exorcise you."

Gary chuckled, despite the priest's clear advantage, "I'm afraid I won't be doing that." He used a clawed finger to tuck a piece of the priest's hair behind his ear, "For you see, I have a new interest to pursue, and I have no reason to leave just yet."

"Then allow me to give you one," the priest said. Before Gary could even process what was being said to him, the priest gripped him by the wrists and pushed him backwards, slamming his back against the altar, "Leave this church. If you come back I will give you a fate far worse than an exorcism."

"Heh, I suppose you reciprocate my interests," Gary smirked, only for the priest to increase the pressure he was using to hold him down.

The priest glared at him before speaking again, "You will not come back, but I will keep my eye on you. When I find your lair then we can...discuss things as adults. But for now, I expect you out of my sight, understood?"

Gary's breath hitched slightly. It's been so long since someone's given him a command without solicitation, "Yes sir~"

"Ah-ah," the priest said, "Use my proper title."

Gary rolled his eyes before smirking, aiming to piss the priest off, "Sure thing, daddy."

The priest's eyes remained unamused. He slid his right hand away from Gary's wrist and down to his throat, "I said..." his grip tightened. Not enough to constrict, but enough to cause pressure, "My proper title."

Gary did not want to admit out loud the things that those words did to him, "Of course...Father."

"Good," The priest's voice was quiet, mumbled only so he could hear. God he'd kill to have that done to him with a mattress beneath them, "Now go on, get out and don't show your face. I expect to be meeting with you very shortly."

"Of course Father," Gary said, turning to leave before the priest could get any ideas about exorcising him.

After all this, perhaps information wasn't the only thing he could get out of the church. This would be far less boring as well.

[madou-dilou]

Harrow and Viren : analysis

Viren, since he resurrected in season 4, is constantly paralleled with Harrow.

"It's been a long time. Our kingdom is prospering. There is peace. My boys, they are growing up. Perhaps it's wiser to stay focused on these blessings."

"My whole life, I have been chasing after things I did not have. Now that I'm here and may have only thirty days left, do I really want to spent those days ... chasing ? Maybe I should stop and appreciate what I do have. A whole month, enjoying every moment with my daughter. Maybe it's time for me to accept that I am who I am. And when I reach the end, I'll be at peace. And it will just be the time to let me go."

Both reevaluate their lives, questioning the crimes they left in their wake. They feel like they have escaped justice. Their loved ones do their best, encourage them to continue living, of course, but they have come to the conclusion that if their life has left such a trail of blood, prolonging it will only spread more.

That at this point, the only right thing they could do for the world was leaving it.

For said loved ones, this attitude makes no sense and feels straight-up ungrateful. ("You are acting stubborn and ungrateful!"/"Please, dad, don't. Don't do this. Don't leave. It's a mistake. You can't. I saved you! You me your life! You have to stay...")

Especially since Harrow and Viren are both incapable of explaining themselves clearly. Viren straight-up tells Harrow he doesnt understand where he is coming from, and Harrow only answers "I know you don't. Leave me." Viren, meanwhile, talks about "a path of truth of freedom" that he needs to face.

In short, to quote Kaamelott's queen Guinevere "You slit your wrists in a bath I had myself prepared just for you."

Two kings caught in blood feuds, pushed by the devils on their shoulders to prolong an existence they no longer want, even at the cost of two being supposed to be sacrifices: a soldier, who signed for that (unlike the High Mage, side-eye Harrow), and this homunculus.

Both thus renounce dark magic by, as Harrow says, "calling it what it is" for the first time; and no longer “a creative solution to solve this” as Viren used to say.

And just as Harrow wrote a letter to his son Callum to free him from the wrongs of the previous generation, Viren attempts to do the same.

To Callum, Harrow tried to explain that the past, which we must nevertheless seek to understand, should not define the future; that his death must close the cycle of revenge that he initiated with the assassination of the Titan and for which he takes full responsibility; and that his sons must ensure a new era of peace. As he prepares to face death, he also makes sure his last conversation with Ezran is completely mundane, so the boy does not grow up thinking he abandonned him.

However, Harrow did not think to officially appoint a regent (Viren, Amaya or Opeli), which forces poor Ezran to assume a horrible role for which, at eight years old, he is obviously absolutely not prepared.

Which obviously puts the kingdom in a dangerous situation.

In his letter to Soren, Viren is very literal. He wants Soren to judge him, but for him to have all the necessary elements to do so; he wants Soren to understands why he made all these mistakes. Viren tells Soren that all the suffering he felt was never his fault, but his own.

It was Viren and Viren alone who chose to become a monster by violating Kppar then Lissa, thus causing her departure, then making Soren pay for it throughout his childhood.

The letter was intended to free Soren of all guilt. Because, when you get given the cold shoulder by your father throughout your whole childhood, you believe it has to be your fault. All divorce children think it's their fault.

The problem is, reading the truth might as well make Soren feel worse. Because this letter confirms that it was to save him that Viren destroyed the family, even if it was a choice that Viren made. According to Puzzle House, Soren remembers that he was sick, that his grandfather disappeared, that his father saved him, and that his mother left, but he could never connect the dots between all these events.

This letter means that the simple fact that Soren was alive was indeed the first crack that eventually caused the whole house to collapse.

Viren therefore chose to burn the letter, hoping to spare his son such a burden.

Both Viren's and Harrow's deaths have something of a suicide to them, and not just in the letters they leave behind.

Remember my post comparing their actions to the quote from the Kaamelott show ? "What is someone who suffers and spills his blood on the floor so that everyone is guilty? All suicides are Christ. All bathtubs are the Grail."

In short, I was trying to explain how their masochism made others suffer.

Harrow claims to consider himself a servant, and he certainly means it. He is humble, is aware monarchy is an unfair system and has a great sense of honor, not hesitating to defy certain traditions - by sharing his official portrait with Viren - and to put his own life at stake. But when, for example, he finds nothing better to do than deprive his people of food simply to honor a promise, his claims sound particularly hollow. He is out-of-touch enough not to know the state his kingdom is in, so he will certainly not have to see his own family starve. But he set out to restore some justice to the world, however stupid this justice is. He seems to consider that by sacrificing the kingdom, he is sacrificing himself. And during his heroic death, that by sacrificing himself, he will save the kingdom instead of plunging it into chaos.

Viren, most probably partly because of his social origins that he keeps getting reminded of (and a fun childhood too, the guy insults himself in front of the mirror until he breaks down crying and constantly devalues his son) is haunted by an inferiority complex. To be useless. He has a morbid need for gratitude. Hoping to matter, to serve a purpose, he spent years self-destructing through dark magic, constantly putting himself in danger, ruining his health, wiping behind the king's decisions, or letting Aaravos exploit his body in increasingly abject ways. In short, to see himself only as a means to an end.

This feeling of ungratefulness is not unfounded: not only is the king actually incompetent enough not to have the slightest idea of ​​the state of his kingdom's resources, but in addition, where any swordsman would display with pride the scars of his craft, Viren is forced to hide his swollen face - it is even part of the reason why his wife left him.

The problem is that his own self-sacrificing tendancies made him think he had the right to exploit others: his wife, Sarai, Harrow, the princes, Soren, and a few thousand others, and I'm probably forgetting some.

That since sacrificing others was difficult for him, it made him the hero.

Viren probably suffers from a huge martyr syndrome: being able to exist only through the gratitude of others, he begins to take charge of all their problems, even unsollicited, and even if it means creating others in the process. It doesnt make him evil. It's an unconcious strategy to simply survive.

Since he is competent, no-nonesense, pragmatic and literally magical, he ends up making himself absolutely indispensable. No one but him could save two kingdoms from famine. Even more so, Sarai, Harrow's wife, sacrificed herself to save him because he was a mage. This survivor's guilt may have made this problem worse.

His mentality, which he summed up as "get a grip" to a traumatized Terry, also likely played a role in the deterioration of his relationship with Harrow. After Sarai's death, Viren probably felt that he ought to be the immovable and unshakable pillar on which Harrow should be able to rely. That if he ever showed the slightest doubt, the slightest weakness, Harrow, and with him, the kingdom, would collapse. Whereas if Viren had been less constipated, Harrow would undoubtedly have felt less lonely, and would have been less likely to take his own life as he did.

Viren is the brain of the heart. He provides a safeguard to Harrow, whose sense of justice blinds him. Harrow has, after all, indeed chosen the Blindfold in his dream, to push him to imagine a system aimed at protecting everyone equally. An ideal, unrealistic and inconsiderate. Viren is the Scales, in my opinion: he compares the costs of his actions to the positive consequences that will result from them. He is a result-oriented person, measuring his self-worth by his productivity.

Now, it's time for me to talk about the Drama Triangle, theorized by psychiatrist Stephen Karpman in his article Fairy Tales and script drama analysis.

Karpmann first applies this schema to fairy tales: for example, the Piper of Hamelin saves the villagers, victims of the rats who persecute them; but instead of thanking him, the villagers throw stones at him and banish him without paying their dues; which pushes the Piper to take revenge, becoming a persecutor, by making all the children of the village disappear.

But this Triangle, as Karpman explains, is also an unconscious psychological game, a relational pattern between victim, persecutor and savior that cannot be applied to an emergency situation. It is not necessary for all three instances of the triangle to be present, but it is often enough for one person to play the game for the others to get involved. Stephen Karpman adds that the more roles are reversed in a single scene, the more intense it is in emotion and conflict.

The victim is isolated, passive and unable to make decisions to resolve their problems. The persecutor belittles them, minimizes their suffering and mocks them in the hope of making them react. The savior defends them, feels obliged to solve the victim's problems for him even unsollicited, which is very gratifying for them but maintains the victim in a state of dependence.

None of these roles are positive because they create unbalanced relationships.

The problem, you can see it coming, is that over the years, Harrow has become completely dependent on Viren to put his grand ideas into practice, and therefore on the "necessary" crimes that Viren lined up like pearls on a necklace. It's not just dirty, it's also infantilising. Viren constantly acts as a savior, which places Harrow in a victim role, unaccustomed to questioning Viren's decisions even when he is wrong.

Harrow couldn't take it anymore.

He became so fed up with his own dependence on Viren that he concluded the only way to get rid of him was to die.

Harrow could have hidden with the princes, or fired his entire guard and faced the consequences of his actions alone, but he just seized the opportunity to sell his skin dearly and die a hero.

I would even go so far as to say that for Harrow, his own death served three purposes:

Reunite with Sarai without whom his life no longer has meaning

Finally receive his rightful punishment and put an end to his own feelings of guilt

Make Viren finally feel guilty about something, even if it was his suicide. He wants him to see his blood spilled on the floor.

In short, to finally regain control by placing Viren in the role of victim, while becoming the persecutor.

"I have tolerated your arrogance for to long. But if this is my last day as king, I will make sure you will know your place."

Viren, throughout seasons 1 and 2, paying for Harrow's mistakes as he always did, tried to position himself as the savior of the human kingdoms, that were then facing a crisis situation: as a result, he is rejected at every turn, completely isolated, sentenced to death for treason and completely unable to resolve his problems. In short, a victim.

And who is it that "saves" him ?

Aaravos, by presenting himself as Viren's "servant", flatters his ego and points out persecutors to blame. However, Viren is not a fool: he is aware of being manipulated. He knows that Aaravos is deliberately withholding a lot of information from him. But he throws himself into it of his own free will. He's more stressed than everyone else as well as grieving, he back to the wall and isn't thinking like the rest of the world: as far as he is concerned, he has only made a series of unavoidable decisions, which had doors and doors shutting in his face over and over, plunging him further and further into sheer darkness.

Until he has "nothing left to lose". Until the man who he has chained to a wall is freer than him. Until the knife eventually becomes the border between two worlds, separating him from the only source of light, pale, artificial, unforgiving, coming from "worse than death": Aaravos.

Yeah, it's clearly suicide-coded.

Viren (believing he was doing the right thing) got the worst out of Harrow, just as Aaravos (wanting to cause chaos for fun) got the worst out of Viren.

And just like Harrow, the only way Viren had to get rid of the devil on his shoulder was to die.

And as for Viren's third death in the sixth season, heroic if ever there was one (on the very balcony where he looked at his wrist in season 2), it is also no coincidence that he repeats Harrow's last words to him, told to humiliate him : "I am a servant."

This term carries an ambivalence: the nobility of abnegation and the humiliation of submission.

Although Harrow saw himself as a servant of the kingdom and promoted equality in his reforms and symbols, he eventually grew tired of it. He does sacrifice his own life to end the cycle of revenge, but since he does not take the trouble to prepare for his succession, even if only by ensuring that the princes are safe, the result is a total disaster. He also devotes the last minutes of his existence to being completely unjustified cruelty towards Viren. His death was a way for him to finally regain control.

Viren, hurt that Harrow lowered him to the ground by mistaking his self-sacrifice for arrogance and once again leaving him to pay the price for his decisions, has made this term the justification for his crimes... confusing, in his good intentions, “serving the people” for “using the people”.

Viren was completely willing to sacrifice himself to save Harrow in Season 1, but Harrow, determined to regain control, didn't even listen to him; and Viren immediately recanted when Harrow refused to recognize him as an equal. Although it could not have been more sincere, the sacrifice of his own life was then rejected by the plot because it was done without humility.

(or maybe Harrow immediately understood what Viren was going to do and scolded him to dissuade him)

Viren was then reduced to his greatest weakness : his existential need for gratitude.

And more than ever, he was the only one with common sense in the room, on top of being belittled for his absence of royal blood. He still thinks he knows better than everyone else, just as he always actually did. Anyone who crosses his vision ought to be killed. No matter how much he has to harm others and himself (burning his own eyes, committing high treason and sentencing himself to death, giving in body and soul to "worse than death", letting Aaravos manipulate his body in absolutely gross ways, risking being burned at the stake) in the process. Aaravos sees straight through, exploits this, because it's what dark magic is: it's dehumanising yourself as well as others; seeing no longer people but components and obstacles. Viren harms himself to be seen as a hero, not a servant. He needs gratitude, admiration. To be seen as above. A servant is beneath, only ever doing what he is told.

But today, Viren, haunted by the vision of Harrow's blood on the floor, chooses to sacrifice himself, thus saving the population of Katolis in the face of dragon fire, to sacrifice himself alone and no one else, reviled, hated, and misunderstood. The official portrait of him and Harrow, symbolizing his noble deeds and the good they were able to do together, burned in the castle fire.

He dies not in court clothes but in rags, not as an official hero showered with praise, but as a traitor. Soren will never know what he did for him as a child, Viren doesn't want his death to haunt him.

Even though he dies as the Lord Protector of the Realm Ezran could not be, in the eyes of history, Viren will remain the traitor. The Evil Chancellor, Jafar, Richard III, Iago, Scar.

No one will see his blood as he spills it on the floor of Harrow's room.

Servants of the realm indeed.

[i-was-a-teenage-eldritch-horror]

I (unwisely) recently logged on to the website formerly known as Twitter, and was immediately greeted with more eva fandom misogynist apologia on the for you tab. Will this ever end?

Equating Shinji's misogynistic actions towards Asuka (and his more subtle misogyny towards Rei and Misato) to Asuka being rude and abrasive to Shinji is just absurd. Is Asuka rude? Yes. Does she have poor social skills? 100%. But Asuka is not a bully, period. Why? Bullying, like abuse, is about power structures. The only character more powerless than Asuka in this show is Rei. Asuka has no adults on her side. Misato favors Shinji because he reminds her of her father wound and neglects Asuka because she reminds her of the feminine parts of herself (read: her unhealthy interactions with men and boys, particularly Kaji and Shinji, which, ironically, stem from her father wound). Or have we forgotten about this scene? Similarly, once Kaji arrives in Japan, he also begins neglecting Asuka in favor of Shinji.

In addition to Shinji's mistreatment of her, Asuka's also experiencing culture shock (compounded by the fact that she's functionally illiterate in Japanese, since she canonically can't read kanji) and the fact that Kensuke was literally manufacturing and distributing csam material of her (and other girls!). Asuka also lacks the protective Eva Unit that Shinji benefits from at almost every turn. The only ally Asuka has is Hikari, who is an ordinary girl with no power over any of the things that are harming or have harmed Asuka.

The smoking gun here is the fact that Shinji is fantastically unfazed by Asuka (who, it must be said, makes several attempts to be kind to Shinji -- which he typically shuts down). Until eoe, the most emotion that he shows around her is when he's understandably upset that she moved into his room while he was at school, and even then he's not upset with Asuka, he's moreso upset at the situation. When he does finally get angry at her in eoe, it's because she was honest with him about how he hurts her and how she does not want to help him (to be clear: she's not obligated to).

Besides that, he nonchalantly tells her not to speak to him that way, or confesses to another character that he finds her bothersome or annoying. There is no real evidence that Asuka has any significant, negative impact on Shinji's psyche the way an actual bully would have on their victim; no, the characters who have the most negative impact on Shinji are Gendo, Yui, and Misato.

What empowers bullies of any age in real life is a power structure (be it at a school, workplace, or in the home) that is negligent towards the victim. There is a reason why school bullies tend to be star athletes, high academic achievers, or exceptionally well-liked (by students, staff, or both) students -- it's because these students often come from privileged backgrounds and/or are aligned with the power structure of the school. Power empowers, go figure.

Misato's treatment of Shinji is definitely not admirable (let's not forget that by the end of the series, Misato has assaulted Shinji); but it's not neglectful. She's very concerned with and involved with his inner life, albeit for selfish reasons. Conversely, Misato knows every ounce of Asuka's pain (rewatch the end of episode 10) and still neglects her! Keeping both Asuka and Shinji in the same household after episode 9 was a mistake on Misato's part. A good, competent caretaker would've discussed the issue (the nonconsensual kiss) with them both separately with the end result being one or both of them moving out into the dorm-like housing that NERV has.

Point being is that the power structure exclusively benefits Shinji relative to Asuka. Despite also suffering as a child soldier and a victim of trauma and abuse, he is privileged relative to Asuka due to how the adults who have power over him and Asuka favor him through their interactions.

Finally, eoe beats us over the head with how uncompassionate Shinji is towards Asuka, Rei, and Misato. Characters who just to happen to be...women and girls. Huh. How about that? It's almost like there's a message there. Although there are a few moments in the show where it's suggested that Shinji ought to empathize more with boys and men like Toji, Kaji, and Gendo (suggestions to empathize with Gendo tend to come from Rei in particular, which I'm not a huge fan of, for the record, but I also recognize that this is Rei imparting her own perspective regarding her own internal journey of questioning onto Shinji), the fact that in eoe, the piece that marks the end of the series, much of the narrative focuses on Shinji's treatment of the women and girls in his life is absolutely significant and sends a message about misogyny.

Does being a misogynist make Shinji a horrible, irredeemable character? Well, that's up to each viewer to decide. My take is that he can still break the cycle and improve. Any story about childhood trauma and abuse would be incomplete without at least one of the characters going down the road of turning into an abuser and/or their traumatizer -- Shinji fits this bill in eva, same with Misato and Ritsuko. Despite everything, I like Shinji. I find him endearing and even identify with him to a certain degree.

When you ignore these facts about Shinji's character, you are erasing a large, very interesting part of his character. Reducing him down to any flavor of sensitive, soft boy is as boring as it is cliche after the more than a quarter of a century since the first episode aired in 1995.

The softness, the sensitivity -- this is Shinji's exterior. Beneath it lies someone who is selfish, callous, bitter, rude, and self-flagellating. As is the case with every eva character, the interior is more interesting than the exterior.

The thing is that everything I've discussed in this post isn't just some throwaway line or a piece of blink and you'll miss it symbolism. It's present in this show basically from episode 1 onward. Seriously, rewatch episodes 1-7. Shinji clearly has some misogynistic ideas about how women should be and this rubs off on how he thinks of Misato (and Rei!), especially regarding how women should dress, keep house, and interact with their sexuality. He not uncommonly makes jabs at Misato for being a slob and having poor dating prospects. After Asuka arrives, much of this is transferred to her.

If anything I've written here sounds like vilification to you, I'd encourage you to examine why. For better or worse, this is the reality of eva and Shinji as a character. Will you face this reality, or just keep on dreaming?

[thestarstoasun]

Will and Naomi Solace don't normally celebrate Easter considering the whole she slept with a Greek god, had a demigod child but could only tell her small-town religious family that she had a one nightstand and got pregnant thing. She had been told they still loved her but was still publicly shamed and shunned until she got famous for her music.

Will didn't think his grandparents, uncles, or aunts deserved his mom in their lives after what they put her through, but he figured if she could forgive them, he could too. Except they didn't know he was bisexual. They didn't know about Nico. Will had been all too willing to tell his sweet, loving, adoring mother about his boyfriend. He made sure Nico knew when he first brought it up that there was no rush, and just like when it came to everything, he was willing to wait forever. (Nico had actually stared at him in disbelief, and with the oh-so-noticeable red splashing across his pale skin muttered a quiet, "Idiota". Will didn't need to be fluent in Italian to know /that one/, even when he first heard it.)

Introducing Nico to his mother was a mistake, not because of any homophobia or monster attacks, but just how much they both love to embarrass him. His mother shares stories and shows pictures (which Will panics about because technology and demigods don't mix well) of a much younger and embarrassing Will, and by the look in Nico's eyes Will knows he is never living it down. In return, his mother learns of his embarrassing flirting in the middle of a war.

The memory was nice now, a year and a half later, especially since Will was currently on the verge of an entire mental breakdown. Being back in Texas had that effect on him. At camp, he locked away all panic, grief, loss, suffering in order to run the infirmary and be strong for his siblings, but here, he had no infirmary and no siblings. He could honestly care less of what these people thought of him - Lee's opinion had mattered, Michael's opinion had mattered, His mama's opinion matters, Nico's feelings and opinion matters. Hades, he cares more for Apollo's opinion than these people, and he was still struggling with his own complicated feelings towards his father - not that they ever showed outwardly.

Will was more worried that these people that shared blood with him would shame his and Nico's relationship and upset his boyfriend. Nico had suffered so much pain and suffering already, especially when it came to his sexuality and accepting that there wasn't anything wrong with himself for loving boys. Will was so proud of how far Nico had come and felt sick to his stomach at being an indirect cause of a relapse.

"You worry too much," The words sounded so beautiful that they must have been spoken by an angel. (They weren't, they were spoken by none other than Nico Di Angelo, but what can he say, he is Apollo's son. It is in his nature to be dramatic at least sometimes.)

"I don't think I worry enough. I mean, there is jus' so much that could go wrong. Mama-" Will shot Nico, who was failing to hide a wide smile, a curious expression unknowingly tilting his head slightly to the right. "What's so amusin' about this?"

"I think I finally understand what Lou Ellen meant when she called you a dog." Will stared blankly absolutely stunned out of his panic, his lips formed a small pout that was absolutely not adorable. Nico got up from where he sat comfortably on Will's bed and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's waist, resting his head on Will's shoulder. "Breathe. I'm already prepared to ditch this dinner and shadow-travel us both and your mother out somewhere nice at the slightest sign of trouble. Catholic guilt is a bitch, but I am done letting it, Gods, or anyone control my life."

Will felt both relieved and worried. Nico had learned so much about his boundaries with his powers over the last year, but it didn't mean Will didn't worry. "Is that why-?"

"Yes, that is why I slept so much today, il mio sole. Even before we left camp you were doing that nervous thing where you wrap bandages around your wrist. I figured something was bothering you and it had to do with our vacation. You love your mom, so it was obviously this dinner. I'm from the 30s, not an idiot, William, amore mio."

Will couldn't help but gently remove Nico's arm's from around him and sweep the boy off his feet. This frustrating, self-destructive, annoyingly attractive, smartass paid way too much attention to a simple healer such as himself, but Will couldn't imagine his life without Nico in it anymore. The half-hearted glare he received filled him with so much warmth and made him smile so wide it hurt, which in turn caused Nico to turn away to hide the slight upturn of his own lips.

[rapha-reads]

IWTV rewatch

Season 1 episode 7 [The Thing Lay Still] - part 2/3

- AAAAAAH IT'S THE DANCE SCENE EXCUSE ME I'M NOT READY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

[Louis] "So much would be written about that grim night in New Orleans, but not a single mention of our last hour at Latrobe's, as if the only crime unfit to print took place on that dance floor." - and what do we say to homophobia, both "period-typical" and current? FUCK OFF.

It's the way they cannot… Aaah, need to say it in French, sorry. Use your translation tool. Ils ne peuvent pas se quitter des yeux un seul moment, même pas quand leurs pas de danse les forcent à se tourner le dos, Louis fermant les yeux jusqu'à ce qu'il soit de nouveau face à Lestat, ou qu'ils doivent se tenir l'un à côté de l'autre, leurs regards irrémédiablement attirés l'un par l'autre, comme deux aimants, magnétiques et plus fort que tout.

[Louis] "It was my sole duty to distract Lestat, but in his mirrored eyes, the distraction reflected back onto me. And in the dead center of the whispering gallery, I lost the thread to my plotting and fell once more into the well with no bottom. I was his, and he was mine."

I haven't said a word about Jacob's voice acting yet. But the way Louis' voice is so soft and slow. As if Louis is lost in his memories and back there, feeling all the love and the frenzy of that night, but also the pain and grief of the long decades since.

- Oof, I'm barely midway through the episode. I'm pausing it so much to not miss a single line that my player is starting to complain.

- "'Claudia, born 1903, I drank the water in 1917. I'm 36 years old.' 'Louis de Pointe du Lac. Born in 1878.i drank of the water in 1910. I am 61 years old now.' 'Lestat de Lioncourt, born 1760. I drank the waters in 1794. 180 years old… this coming November.'"

Ooooh, canon divergence! Not Louis and Claudia, them, we know, but Lestat. Born 1760 but turned in 1780 at 20 years old in the book. Interesting! I wonder why that change. There's another element given in s2, when Armand's writing his little Lesmand fanfic, but otherwise I guess s3 will give us an answer to why that tiny time change.

Meanwhile Tom fucking Anderson continues to be a nuisance.

- FINALLY. BYE TOM.

Love the music. Love the blood. Love the violence. Love the magnificent entrance of the three, in white and red. Vampires are freaking cool and the werewolf crowd can bite my a… Ahem, sorry, werewolf buddies. I got carried away.

- Aaaand goddamn Antoinette about to make her entrance. Aaaargh. But also I am very bi and she is very hot so I can't entirely hate her.

- [Lestat]"'Quite drunk this one. Rosemary… And something else. What is it, my love?' [Louis] 'I… I think it's gin.' [Lestat] 'I wasn't talking to you.'"

Bitch how dare you call someone else your love right in front of Louis, I'm offended.

Oh, wait, actually I can perfectly hate Antoinette, GET YOUR HANDS OFF CLAUDIA.

- [Claudia] "'Lestat… You must think me an idiot. 'She was at the ball tonight.' Not just the ball. You shoulda let that train go, Uncle Les.' [Lestat] 'How? Who?' [Claudia] 'He who called you him… Always the petty lights with you, Uncle Les.'"

Ah, I knew I hated Tom Anderson for more than his slimy, racist, homophobic ways. Nice planning, Claudia!

- Ooh, oh, no, baby, not the cane sword, no no no no. I hate (not) when the foreshadowing comes full circle.

- [Lestat] "Louis! We are joined by a cord, by a cord that you cannot see, but it is real. It is real. I have loved you… with all myself. I'm happy it was you… here with me… à la fin."

*cries*

No but can you imagine Lestat's anguish, the pure suffering and desperation he must have felt? Yes, yes, I know he's done plenty of wrongs, he's hurt Louis and Claudia a lot, he made mistakes after mistakes, he was prone to anger and abuse and violence.

But à la fin he's still a little boy who was neglected by his mother, abused by his father, hated by his first love, kidnapped and raped by his maker, hurt and threatened by the first vampires he's met, and was so lonely, afraid and hurt he didn't know how to love honestly even though he was deeply in love.

"Are we the sum of our worst moments", can we not feel pity and sadness for the monster in the woods? Can we not show kindness to the monster even after he's slapped our hand away, isn't kindness what could make the monster accept the hand?

I wrote a thesis about kindness being the true core of the story of Beauty and the Beast last year, about how it's true kindness and not love that Beast relearns how to be human and builds the self-esteem and self-respect needed to truly fall in love with Belle and have her fall in love with him in turn (there's more to my thesis, it's a 100 pages long, but that's the main point I wanted to make), and I can't help but draw parallels with Lestat.

Beauty and the Beast is French and it was first written in 1740, then rewritten and condensed (from 125 pages to barely 30) in 1756. Lestat definitely must have heard the tale, by the 1770s, 1780s, it was quite popular both in noble salons as in lowlier classes.

Do you think he ever fancied himself the Beast, and saw Louis as his Beauty? Do you think he ever thought he was cursed - despite claiming he never saw his condition as a vampire as a curse - and saw Louis as his salvation? Do you think he felt the fairy tale shatter irreparably around him when he realised that this time he could not keep Louis with him? Do you think in 1945 at the trial he saw himself as the Beast freed from his curse finally, heard and avenged, only to then realise that the curse was still there and stronger than ever because he had deeply misunderstood it? Do you think he spent 77 years living off rats in a dilapidated shack in the city that held his heart because his story went from Beauty and the Beast to the Ice Queen, or Koschei the Deathless, heartless and waiting for the one person that could unfroze or unbury his heart?

Ooooh, Lestat versus folktales. I think I can write a whole other thesis with just that idea. Or maybe a series of fics. Too many thoughts.

- [Louis] "The blood poured out of him as it might never pour from a human being… all the blood he had filled himself with. He lay now on his back, his eyes staring wildly at the ceiling, the irises dancing from side to side."

[Louis] "His irises rolled to the top of his head, the white went dim. This horror that had been Lestat… I stared helplessly at it. The thing lay still. There was no point in lingering."

No comment, just… Can you hear in Louis' voice the anguish, still, after so many decades…

- Huh. Bye Antoinette for real I guess, fire doesn't forgive. So no Antoinette at the Court.

- [Louis] "It was as if we'd expected Lestat to disappear in a puff of smoke or get sucked back into hell." - no but see, that's what I'm saying, the fairy tale ended and now you're left facing the very real consequences of the plot you thought you were living. Lestat ain't no fairy tale monster, just a regular (albeit vampiric) one, flesh and blood at the end. This ain't Buffy. Vampires are flesh here, animated flesh and when you kill them by any other means than fire or the sun, you are still left with the painfully visible reminder of the man that was the monster.

[I really like this part because I hadn't thought of the whole Lestat/folktale before and now I'm having a million of ideas knocking around my head.]

ep1 | ep2 | ep3 | ep4 | ep5 | ep6 | part 1 | part 3

[pottermeow22]

Why I think Gwynriel's the next book!!! Also, super long post!

So, I've been on the Gwynriel wagon since ACOSF (, even before I even got to the bonus chapter, mind you all), but I've been consciously sticking to ao3 and away from tumblr, because who likes a ship war, right?

But! This one won't leave me alone!

Azriel, my sweet boy, has never been chosen. And that is the root cause to his problematic love life, is it not? He believes that a part of his mother's suffering at his father's hand was because of him, yes? That his mother could not LEAVE because of him. He feels as if he harmed her by simply, being, as it is...

His birth family does not choose him, and although his mother did, it does not feel like a choice to Azriel, because to stay by one's child is a duty, is it not? And while our boy might not understand love, he does understand duty! Rhys and Cassian, for all that they accept him, did not choose him, not at first. Like all children, they were mean without knowing it, and then they've glossed over it and built a strong bond without ever acknowledging that initial damage it must have done to a child who had never been around children other than the step brothers that tried to burn him! It makes sense to me that he probably internalised child Rhys and Cass' initial non understanding of his shadows, and then never addresses them again....

Then, he crushes on Mor. Hopes she chooses him. Except, she doesn't. She would rather choose his brother over him, even when he makes it quite obvious that he does like her that way, and he decides it's easier to love someone who has openly shown him they would rather NOT be with him.

So I think, when it comes to Elain, Az is seduced by the thought of someone CHOOSING HIM!!! Elain has a mate, and still, she attempts to explore something with HIM. With AZRIEL. A novelty to him. Atleast, until the bonus chapter. The BC, where they almost kiss, and then Azriel calls it a mistake, and Elain says I'm sorry. She doesn't ask him why. Doesn't say it's not. She says I'm sorry. So right up to the BC, Elain has not so far CHOSEN Azriel. And I don't think she's capable of doing so either, because to truly choose someone, you must know them completely, and then choose. INFORMED consent, yes?

Who has seen Azriel in his darkest form, and not balked at it? Who saw the Shadowsinger of the Night Court in his battle leathers, shadows in full blaze, slaughtering males in seconds, and accepted his offer of a cloak and safety with no second thought? Who saw that, and thought, I am safe? Which priestess, that chose to hide herself from the male gaze, attend training sessions, continue to do them once Azriel joined, asked HIM for private lessons despite her primary mentor being Cass? Which priestess saw the spymaster and shadowsinger and just plain Azriel and said I see you, and I'm choosing to stay here, right on this training ring, and if you choose to stay, then you better be ready to deal with me!!!

Azriel has never been chosen, and no one knows more than Gwyn how important choice is. So I think they're going to flirt their way to a mating bond without even realising it, and they're going to CHOOSE each other before that all important bond snaps into place for them. For him, atleast.

[carewyncromwell]

"Livin' might mean takin' chances, but they're worth takin' -- Lovin' might be a mistake, but it's worth makin'... Don't let some Hell-bent heart leave you bitter! When you come close to sellin' out, reconsider..."

~"I Hope You Dance" by Lee Ann Womack

x~x~x~x

tagging @drinkyoursoupbitch because I know it's late, but here's some World-Building Soup! 🥣💚

x~x~x~x

Throughout the years, Carewyn Cromwell sent her mother Lane many letters and photographs. Perhaps she didn't write about all of her experiences -- her pursuit of the Cursed Vaults and hearing her missing brother's disembodied voice in her own head were conveniently side-stepped -- but even so, it was through these letters and photographs that Lane met most of Carewyn's eventually rather large friend group. Here are some of Lane's impressions of them, based on what her daughter told her about them.

I do have one dormmate who's nice, though. Remember Rowan, the girl from Flourish and Blotts I told you about? Yeah, she's one of them! She took the four-poster closest to mine, and we've started sitting in class together. She's absolutely brilliant, Mum.

Lane liked Rowan from the off-set. Not only was Rowan the first person who'd actively befriended "her Winnie," but Carewyn frequently (and favorably) compared Rowan to Jacob, and when Lane first encountered Rowan on Platform Nine and Three Quarters, she completely understood why. Both enthusiasm and intellect just rippled off of Rowan, just the way it did Jacob. Lane was heartbroken when she learned about Rowan's death in her daughter's sixth year, and learning that her father Charles's criminal organization was largely behind it infuriated her like nothing else could. Even now, Lane hates her father far more for what he's taken from Carewyn and Jacob than anything he ever did to her growing up, and despite being a very gentle and even-tempered woman most of the time, Lane thinks that Charles deserved to rot alone in Azkaban, just for what he did to Duncan Ashe and Rowan Khanna.

Ben Copper and I went outside to study next to the Black Lake today. Ben wasn't so sure at first, since he'd heard stories about the Giant Squid grabbing people and yanking them into the Lake, but once we put a Waterproof Charm on all his things, he felt a little better.

Lane honestly wasn't surprised that one of Carewyn's first friends was someone like Ben. Considering how sensitive Carewyn was and how much Carewyn herself had been bullied as a little kid, Lane couldn't have been more proud of how her daughter empathized with others who were bullied and stood up for them. When Lane met Ben on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters after Carewyn's first year, she found him a very shy and sweet boy. Needless to say, she was a little surprised when she met Ben again in Carewyn's sixth year -- especially since he now towered a good eight inches over her!

Penny Haywood sat with Rowan and me in Potions class today. Rowan was a bit starstruck, since Penny's the most popular girl in our year, but fortunately she's not stuck-up about it. I mostly just don't understand how she can be so good at talking about silly things -- I wonder if it's just something that comes more naturally to Hufflepuffs?

Carewyn befriending someone like Penny, though, did surprise Lane. Penny was the sort of person Lane probably would've never managed to befriend at school herself since she was so soft-spoken, but she was happy that Carewyn was opening herself up to different kinds of people. Still, Lane completely understood where Carewyn was coming from whenever she admitted having to turn down one of Penny's invitations -- the poor woman suffered from severe enough social anxiety that the thought of anyone being such a social butterfly was foreign to her.

The gamekeeper Hagrid invited me over to his hut for tea tomorrow. He said he remembers both you and Jacob from school, so I reckon he must be older than he looks. Maybe he's part Giant? Giants age differently than wizards, right?

Lane was delighted when she learned Carewyn befriended Rubeus Hagrid. Lane had only ever spoken casually to the gamekeeper when she was at school, since her family would've never approved of her speaking to the "hired help" with any familiarity, but she'd always had a favorable opinion of Hagrid, even if he came across as less than scholarly. Lane actually even ended up sending letters to Hagrid directly a few times, the way she did with Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, and Severus Snape over the course of Carewyn's school career. Hagrid always gushed over Carewyn in his responses and occasionally even let slip some things Carewyn didn't tell her mother about in her letters, such as how much the new Professor Rakepick had taken to Carewyn.

I've made a new friend, though. His name's Bill Weasley -- he's a Gryffindor two years ahead of me, and we met on the Training Grounds, while he was practicing on some dummies. Rowan says most of the kids in our year know him for sticking up for younger students, and after meeting him, yeah, Bill seems like a really nice person! Bill's brother Charlie's in our year, also in Gryffindor. I gather from Rowan that most Weasleys have been in Gryffindor. She said one of them was even Gryffindor's Head of House at one point! I wonder if she was anything like Professor McGonagall...

Out of all of Carewyn's friends, Lane arguably heard the most about Bill over the years. His name was the most constant in her daughter's letters, and Lane loved him almost immediately, just based on how kind and generous he sounded. Lane was familiar with the Weasley family's reputation beforehand (the Cromwell Clan had always been very derisive about their stance on blood purity), but she was delighted to see what sincerely good people they were. Bill and his family being so upset that Lane was forced to spend Christmas away from Carewyn that they invited her to stay and celebrate with them at their house touched Lane like few other things have, and ever since that winter, Lane has kept in close written contact with Bill's mother, Molly. Lane saw Bill at Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters more than any of Carewyn's other friends over the years, and so by the time she saw Bill at Carewyn's graduation, they greeted each other like old friends.

Bill's brother Charlie invited me to join in on a Quidditch friendly today. Andre Egwu was there too -- I don't know if you remember him, Mum, he's the one who gave me that pretty light brown coat? -- but I'm not surprised he was there: he's brilliant at flying. Charlie is too -- he became the Gryffindor Seeker back when he and I were still second years! I wish they were on the Slytherin team!

Just like with Bill, Lane liked everything she ever heard about Charlie. She especially loved whenever Carewyn would rave about Charlie's interest in dragons, since Carewyn's own interest in magical creatures would leap off the page every time it came up. Their shared interest in Quidditch Lane didn't jive with as well considering she wasn't much for sports, but that didn't mean Carewyn's mother didn't like knowing Carewyn had people she could enjoy it with.

Andre was another surprise for Lane. On the one hand, he was a Ravenclaw, same as Lane and Jacob had been, and he seemed like a very generous and talented kid. On the other, the interests he shared with Carewyn (Quidditch and fashion) were ones Lane didn't share as much herself, and Andre seemed so gregarious and out-going that Lane wasn't sure he and her daughter would have much common ground. That didn't mean Lane wasn't still very happy for Carewyn when they started dating, nor did it mean Lane wasn't sad to hear they'd broken up. After all, just because Lane wasn't sociable at all and didn't have the same interests as Andre didn't mean she didn't want Carewyn to socialize and try new things. Lane was just relieved that Carewyn and Andre broke up on good terms -- she would've been very unhappy thinking of Carewyn having her own "Evan" who had helped her grow so much as a person, but whose memory now only flooded her with regret.

Tryouts for the new Slytherin Chaser position are coming up really soon, and I want to be ready for them. Fortunately Charlie and Andre have been helping me practice, and now I've got Skye Parkin coaching me too. (She's Slytherin's Star Chaser -- a bit full-of-herself for my taste, but she's been helpful. Her father's Captain of the Wigtown Wanderers.) The main commentator Murphy McNully (just called McNully) also gave me some books on Quidditch strategy -- or, at least, he dropped them in my lap, thoroughly expecting I'd come up and talk to him more about it later. (I'm starting to get the feeling a lot of Quidditch people don't have the best communication skills.)

The last sentence of that paragraph had made Lane laugh. Neither she nor Jacob had ever been a sports fan -- the one most into sports in their immediate family had been Evan, and he'd ended up quite disappointed that he hadn't had anyone who would enjoy going out to cheer on Arsenal F.C. with him. It made Lane a bit sad to think that if Evan hadn't been so stubborn and if he hadn't been so upset about the revelation of their magic, he could've really bonded with Carewyn over their favorite sports in a way that Lane couldn't. Lane supported Carewyn’s decision to leave the Slytherin team after Skye publicly accused Erika Rath of stealing the Cleansweep she'd intended to give Carewyn, even if she'd really wished things had been resolved more peacefully.

As for getting a tryout, well, I've been meeting with Orion Amari every morning now, trying to do just that! He's been testing me, I think, though he won't flat-out say so. Instead he's been having me balance on my broom on one foot (which, trust me, is not easy!) and meditate with him for an hour at a time. Skye and McNully both warned me that Orion is a bit eccentric...and after meeting him, yeah! They weren't kidding! But still, I think Orion has good reason to not give me a tryout right away. I mean, I am only a third year, and I'm not exactly built like a Quidditch player. I know Skye didn't really think much of me when I said I planned to try out for the open spot either. And I can tell for all his weirdness, Orion Amari is good at what he does.

Ah, yes, Orion Amari. The one who would eventually, way down the road, become her daughter's romantic partner. While Carewyn was at school, she wrote rather admiringly of Orion, not just for his Quidditch talent, but for his calm and wise temperament. Orion's detached affect was very apparent in Carewyn's letters -- Lane was reminded of some of her old friends in Ravenclaw, just reading about him. Carewyn also on multiple occasions compared Orion to both Jacob and Lane herself, though, in her letters home, and usually in the sweetest ways. Like Jacob, he saw the world differently than everyone else and didn't feel the need to conform or change himself. Like Lane, he was soft-spoken, level-headed, and brilliant, and he was happiest when the world was calm and others were at peace. Carewyn even once admitted that Orion reminded her of Lane when he laughed. When Carewyn formally introduced Lane to Orion many years later when they were adults, Lane found she did like him quite a bit, especially when she saw how calming of an influence he had on her emotional, perfectionistic daughter. Admittedly Lane never understood her daughter's other half's "Orionisms" more than half the time -- but it still filled her heart up with such joy, seeing how in-tune Carewyn was with them, regardless. And it did amuse Lane, when she learned that Orion compared her to a Porlock.

I'll tell you more about our new professor in my next letter -- I promised Tonks and Tulip I'd meet them at Zonko's after lunch. (Not exactly enthused about the location, but Tonks said we could stop at the Three Broomsticks afterward, and I plan to hold her to that.)

Lane rarely heard about Tulip Karasu or Nymphadora Tonks as anything other than a unit, but she always smiled hearing about them, because Carewyn's huffy streak tended to come out more in her letters whenever she wrote about them. Lane gathered that Tonks and Tulip ended up giving Carewyn more than a few headaches since they were on the mischievous side, but for all of the minor griping she would make about them, it was very apparent that Carewyn loved them dearly. After all, no one as proud and sensitive as Carewyn would put themselves in the position to get pranked time and again if she didn't feel anything for the prankers in question.

I also made a new friend yesterday. His name's Barnaby Lee, and he's a Slytherin in my year. He was originally friends with Merula (if you can call it that -- I hardly would, considering Merula doesn't know the meaning of the word!), but after we had a friendly duel, we went to the Three Broomsticks for some butterbeer and talked for a while, and he's so nice, Mum. Way nicer than I thought he would be, hanging out with Merula so much! His family's rotten too -- I was reminded so much of your stories about your family, just listening to Barnaby talk about his awful parents and his nasty grandmother! But even with all that, Barnaby's still such a good person. He even introduced me to a Knarl he befriended at the Magical Creature Preserve this morning before class. (His name is literally just Knarl. Not the most creative name, but he's still really cute!)

Oh, Lane liked Barnaby. Not only did Lane's Mama Bear senses go off hearing about Barnaby's family situation, but she was happy that Carewyn had found people in her house who were just as sensitive and kind as she was. One of Lane's favorite pictures of Carewyn's time at Hogwarts was the one her daughter had taken of herself, Liz Tuttle, and Barnaby with their shared pet Lune the bat, who they'd rescued from the Hogwarts owlery -- that picture lived on Lane's bedside table for a good long while, alongside one of a young Jacob staring into the lava lamp in his room. Barnaby is also one of the few members of Carewyn's friend group who Lane actively invited over to their flat over the summer, and when he came over, the two of them geeked over some old handwritten notes by Newt Scamander that Lane had borrowed after a recent trip to the Scamander Museum archives in New York.

Mum, if it's not too much trouble, over the holidays, can we stop by the CD store down the road? I want to get Chiara something special for Christmas.

Out of all of Carewyn's friends, Chiara Lobosca was the one Lane became the most fond of, aside from Bill and Rowan. Not only were Chiara's and Lane's personalities very well-suited to each other, but Lane could see the pure, unmitigated love Chiara had for "her Winnie," and it just flooded her heart with so much joy. Chiara is one of the other few friends Lane invited over to her and Carewyn's flat over the summer, and they had a lovely visit over tea and pikelets. She also met Chiara's parents briefly when they came to pick her up, as well as at Chiara and Carewyn's graduation: Chiara's mother Donna in particular greeted Lane very kindly and gushed over Carewyn profusely. Lane was very flattering of Chiara in return, which made the Hufflepuff blush. Chiara didn't tell Lane she was a werewolf for a long while, since she was harbored some fears that Lane wouldn't want her around Carewyn anymore if she knew. Fortunately when she finally explained to Lane about her condition and that Carewyn had become an Animagus to keep her company during full moons, Lane responded very warmly and gave Chiara the biggest hug.

"I couldn't have asked for a better friend for my Winnie," she'd said.

In other news, Talbott Winger actually called me his friend the other day. It feels weird to hear him say it aloud, but really good, all the same.

Talbott Winger was the last of Carewyn's friends to be directly invited by Lane over to their flat over the summer, after Lane and Carewyn saw a flyer about a slam poetry session going on at a local Muggle bookstore and Carewyn offhandedly remarked that Talbott would love something like that. The three of them ended up having a really nice time, and afterward Lane invited Talbott over to their place for a proper Toad-in-the-hole supper. Lane enjoyed Talbott's wry sense of humor, which was very in-tune with Carewyn's -- Talbott appreciated Lane's extensive knowledge of History of Magic, which was a subject he'd never excelled in. He also borrowed a copy of Homer's Odyssey from Lane, after a long discussion they'd had over supper about Greek epic poetry.

I had my first Divination class with Professor Trelawney today. I wish I could say it was fun, but I found the class rather woolly. I wouldn't mind asking Torvus what he thinks about human Divination now that I've taken my first class, because I can't imagine that he and his herd throwing a hysterical fit over a clump of soggy tea leaves.

Lane was incredibly intrigued by Torvus. Although Carewyn neglected to tell Lane exactly how they'd met, her mother gathered that Torvus had known Charlie first. After learning Carewyn had befriended a centaur, however, Lane sent a very long letter back not only offering her what little she knew about centaur history, but also asking if Carewyn would pass along some of her own questions to Torvus as well.

I swung by the Prefects’ Bathroom briefly after doing my nightly rounds with Charlie. While there I saw the ghost who lives there, who’s named Duncan — I met him earlier this year, while Bill was showing Charlie and me around. He can be a bit of a prat sometimes, but you’d like him a lot, Mum. I hope I can introduce him to you someday.

Carewyn didn’t give her mother full context about who Duncan Ashe was, since talking about who he was to Jacob would’ve opened up the floodgates to Carewyn herself seeking out the Cursed Vaults, but she still couldn’t help but bring him up every-so-often. Lane got the impression that Carewyn felt sorry for Duncan since he was stuck haunting the Prefects’ Bathroom all by himself, and she was charmed by it, imagining Carewyn was so sensitive a soul that she even befriended ghosts if she thought they were lonely. Obviously there was a lot more to why Carewyn interacted with Duncan than that, and when Lane did get a full explanation about who Duncan was, she understandably was very upset, especially with the Hogwarts staff for not telling her that her son lost his best friend right before he was expelled. After the Cursed Vaults were dealt with and Duncan was finally laid to rest, Lane made the extreme step of actually reaching out to Duncan’s father asking for a picture of him and wanting to know where she could pay her respects. She was shocked and dismayed when Mr. Ashe informed her that he’d “shed” all of Duncan’s belongings after his death and so had no pictures to send her. He’d also had Duncan cremated and his ashes scattered at sea. After sending back a coldly disapproving letter making clear that Duncan had been loved dearly by her family and she at least would pay the respects that Mr. Ashe seemed determined to deny his son, Lane then went out of her way to track down as many photos of Duncan as she could from Hogwarts's staff and Jacob's school friend, Olivia Green. The best of these Lane framed and hung up near her small cauldron set up in the kitchen. When Jacob saw the little tribute his mother had made for his boy best friend, he threw his arms around her, unable to stop crying.

Thanks to Merula of all people, I actually have a new sparring partner: the Dueling Club's darling, Diego Caplan. I admit, I never really spoke to Diego before, as he always came across as overly flirtatious...after getting to know him better, though, all I can really do is laugh, because for however over-the-top and theatrical he is, I think he is actually sincere in his compliments! He acts like a total Casanova, but it really seems as though he's just the sort to wear all of his emotions on his sleeve -- the biggest, brightest, flashiest sleeve imaginable. And yet he'll roll up that sleeve and hand your arse to you on the Dueling Field, with no reservations. It's kind of hilarious, actually.

Diego was another friend that seemed completely opposite to Carewyn in every way, largely because Lane had so much difficulty imagining her overly sensitive daughter dueling seriously. It was one thing for Carewyn to duel with Bill, who Lane knew was also very nurturing and gentle with his friends and would never really want to hurt anybody, but to learn Carewyn was enjoying dueling with someone as hard-core competitive in it as Diego was surprising. It made Lane wish all the more that Jacob had considered joining the Dueling Club full-time when he was at school, since he would've enjoyed having an opponent as talented and yet amiable as Diego. When Lane met Diego in passing at Carewyn's graduation, Diego did not hesitate in turning on the charm even with her, which tickled Lane to no end.

"Careful, young man," she said with a wry smile. "I know plenty of younger women would swoon at such compliments."

One small advantage to being in detention has been the company. Charlie and Ben's dormmate Jae Kim is there right along with me, and we've been able to talk while we're working, so long as we're quiet. Oh yes, I’ve learned something new about Charlie today: apparently he sings Queen badly in the shower.

Carewyn was generally very understated in how she talked about Jae, aside from the fact that he was in detention often, so Lane surmised he was a “troublemaker” sort, akin to Tonks and Tulip. During the Second War, Lane also learned Jae was one of those friends of Carewyn’s helping keep other families hidden from the Death Eaters. Jae and Lane finally met when he catered the party Carewyn and Orion held after their partnership ceremony, and she took to him far more than she’d imagined she would after they ended up in an involved conversation about saving money on various food ingredients and household goods. Lane was very touched to hear Jae was so financially supportive of his mother, instantly reminded of how much Jacob and Carewyn tried to help her out around the house while they were low on funds. Jae now will reach out to Lane whenever he needs input on anything Muggle-related — no offense, Mr. Weasley, but Lane is that bit more experienced in this field than you are.

The Frog Choir’s been rehearsing hard for the graduation ceremony. Merula has a solo in their performance of In Noctem — I gather Snape likes the piece just as much as you do.

From the moment Lane first read about Merula Snyde, she really hoped that Carewyn and she would either find some common ground and make peace or that Carewyn would just put some distance between them. Yes, perhaps Merula sounded unpleasant, but the last thing Lane wanted for either of her bairns was for them to have "enemies." After Carewyn and Merula both stayed with the Weasleys for Christmas, Lane was a bit more hopeful that the two girls would be able to mend fences, but that hope persisted largely because she was unaware of just how much Merula was getting in Carewyn's way while pursuing the Cursed Vaults. This is ultimately why she encouraged Carewyn to consider letting Merula take the open spot on the Frog Choir after her daughter asked her for advice -- Lane thought that it sounded like Merula didn't have a safe space to sing happily at home the way Carewyn herself did, and perhaps the spot on the Choir could give Merula a constructive outlet for her negative emotions, the way that it often had for her while living at the Cromwell estate. By the time Carewyn and Merula both graduated, even if neither of them classified each other as friends, they had come together in large part because of them co-founding the Circle of Khanna with Bill, Charlie, and Ben. This made it so that when Lane saw Merula at Carewyn's graduation, she embraced her fully and praised her performance with the Frog Choir. Lane also noticed Merula eying the heck out of Jacob at the ceremony. Rather than feel any matchmaker-esque urges in response to this, though, she ended up trying to gently coax "her Blue Jay" elsewhere. The last thing Lane wanted was for Jacob to cause unnecessary drama at his and Carewyn's graduation by accidentally hurting Merula's feelings with his utter cluelessness.

"How long has Merula been sweet on your brother?" Lane murmured to Carewyn at one point.

Carewyn was unable to hold back an eye roll. "Since last year. She loved the fact that Jacob wiped the floor with me in a wizard duel."

Lane winced. "I see." She paused very briefly before saying, "...Well, that's not going to go anywhere."

"Nope."

[jeannereames]

Based on the tactics vs strategy component of your most recent ask (on how ATG should or should not be depicted on TV)—do you think, if he hadn’t died so soon and lived a little longer, he might’ve been able to improve his strategic mindset? I think that’s how Philip became good at it, right? After experiencing some failures. I think perhaps that’s one of the tragedies of Philip not being around longer—he might’ve been able to show his son how to handle mistakes and move on from them.

Oh, I think Alexander was definitely improving as a strategist. He was never bad, he just wasn’t Philip… who was exceptional. But Philip had to learn very early, just to survive. I doubt the man had much of a childhood.

A quick review of Philip’s early life, for those reading who may not already know. We think he may have been sent to the Illyrian court of Bardylis at some point in his childhood; for how long is unclear. (If I ever get around to a Philip novel, that’s where I’m starting it, too.) Then he must have come home, only to be sent down to Thebes as a hostage when he was in his early teens. He returned to Macedonia once Perdikkas was no longer a minor himself and could kill his erstwhile regent. Some years later, Perdikkas made him archon of a canton (maybe Amphaxitis?), probably when he was c.18-20 years of age, where he had his own little militia to train. Perdikkas was dead on a battlefield, fighting Illyria, before Philip was 24.

So, he came to the throne a bit later than Alexander but suffered a MUCH more uncertain childhood. It makes Alexander’s look like the “poor little rich boy,” tbh. This is why I respect Philip so much. No, I don’t think he was “greater than Alexander” (as per Richard Gabriel), but I do think he earned his place as, per Diodoros, “the greatest of the kings of Europe.”

I will also add that I suspect Philip benefited a lot from his mother Eurydike’s advice, as did his brother Perdikkas. There was a woman to be in awe of! I also think it’s why Philip was so damn determined to see that Alexander got a “proper” education. Yes, it owed the influence of Thebes’ upper-crust circles…but also residue from his own “school of hard knocks” upbringing.

It also explains why he was a master chess player. He’d had to be, just to stay alive.

Alexander learned quickly, but he didn’t have to exercise it quite as young; Daddy was there to take care of things. Mostly masterfully (outside his private life). Then Philip got himself killed, and Alexander was on his own at just 20. No surprise if he made mistakes, but being king already, they were on full display for posterity in a way Philip’s weren’t. (In fact, we know almost nothing of Philip’s childhood, as evinced by the brevity of my summary above.)

To my mind, one of the tragedies for both men was Philip’s sudden death. While it’s possible they might have clashed even more as Alexander aged, their friction may also have eased. Alexander was right on the cusp of that age when teenaged boys transform back into somewhat sane human beings. Ha. My own seemed to change virtually overnight between about 22 and 23. Philip had been dead two years by then, and Alexander invaded Persia at 22.

Many years ago, I wrote an alternate history short story for Gene Borza’s birthday, wherein Philip died at Chaironeia, and Alexander was taken captive, then had to escape and re-do everything Daddy had done. It was fun to imagine what might have happened, in part to underscore how singular/important Chaironeia was for not only Philip, but Alexander too.

Yet an equally interesting “What if?” would be that Philip wasn’t assassinated in 336 and did invade Persia that autumn. But let’s say he didn’t survive “Granikos” or “Issos” (or whatever those would have been for him*), while Alexander did. What might that have looked like, giving Alexander another 2-3 years under Philip, only becoming king himself around the same age his father had? (23-24?)

I love alternate history scenarios when well-done. (Maybe why I’m a big fan of Melissa Scott’s A Choice of Destinies.)

So in short, yes, I agree that it was a tragedy that Philip didn’t live at least a few years more. And somebody needs to write that alternate history. Then send me the link. Ha.

——

* I think, if it HAD been Philip at the head of the army, Darius would have taken him much more seriously, probably moving up the timeframe of a serious clash (such as Issos). I suspect Philip, like Alexander, would plan to take the Asia Minor coast the same way, to cut off the navy. Darius might have come after him with a bigger army somewhere in Asia Minor. But I also think Asia Minor would have gone over to Philip more easily, as he was proven material and that area had already rebelled against Artaxerxes only about a decade or so prior.

[misteria247]

Hi, don’t mind me I’m just here to ramble. There’s something so amazing about how in almost every tmnt iteration, the Splinters managed to push through the tragedies he faced to raise 4 kids in the sewers with no help in a world that would despise them. 2012 and Rise Splinters may as well be the biggest examples of this despite how differently they handled the situation.

Rise Splinter was depressed, he’s lost everything yet he still found it in himself to raise the kids. Even when he hasn’t done a very good job at times due to his trauma he later pushed through to better himself and his parenting for them and that speaks volumes. The process is slow, there’s still some things he’ll need to get through but he still pushes forward regardless for his sons and he cares and loves for them deeply.

2012 Splinter lost everything as well and he didn’t have any time to recover before he was thrusted out of society to raise 4 baby turtles as they’re being hunted down. He was stuck and yet somehow he found the resolve to keep going for the turtles, his sons and raise them. He failed to protect his first family before, he won’t fail to protect his second one. He tries to recover from his trauma as he raises his sons and though things aren’t perfect and he’s made some mistakes, he strives to make up to those mistakes and help his sons whenever they need it.

Almost every Splinter iteration has suffered in some way from watching a loved one die to being outcasted by humanity and yet they somehow managed to keep going for their sons. Despite all the hardships they faced, all the challenges they must overcome, they still kept going for the sake of their sons and they better themselves in the process. And ain’t that just the most inspiring thing.

Tbh all of this that you mentioned is one of the many reasons why I love Splinter as a character both individually and as a father with his sons. Like when you really think about it, Splinter could have quit on life at any moment. He watched loved ones die, was mutated and banished by society, forced to live in the sewers for the rest of his life. Like he's been through hell and he could have given up at any point in time. But no.

Instead he picked himself back up, brushed himself off and used his traumatic experiences to strengthen himself as well as turn it into a weapon. A weapon that'll always remind him of what could happen and fueling his determination to keep fighting even when life gets tough. As if this in itself wasn't amazing, but he also took in the boys and raised them as his own despite all the things he'd been through. Like if I'm honest here, Splinter had no obligation of taking care of Leo, Raph, Donnie and Mikey. If he truly wanted to, he could have left them and gone on his merry way and left them to fend for themselves. Yet instead Splinter saw these four babies, and decided to take them with him even after all the horrors he'd witnessed.

Just.....

Splinter, or rather Hamato Yoshi in some cases, is just fantastic. Love this rat dad to bits and pieces.

[themetalvirus]

thinks about eggman successfully erasing egghog shadow's memories of what made him run away, his time spent with tails and amy while he was away, and that silver ever ran away. thinks about it

honestly im mainly thinking about

1. how disoriented shadow is when he wakes up

2. the process of getting him out of The Tube (draining the green nutrient/sedative combo slime, filling the tube with a compound that breaks down the green slime [eggman has shadow take a deep breath in and out, one for mouth one for nose, to mostly clear out his lungs and sinuses of the green stuff], rinsing, drying, sanitizing spray, THEN the capsule opens)

3. eggy sonic waiting right outside the door bouncing up and down and before the door even fully opens he's already got shadow in a big tearful hug. and eggman says hey, be gentle with him and remember what we talked about (they talked about not telling shadow the truth about why he was out for so long or what really happened). and sonic looks up from shadow's shoulder at eggman, silent gratitude in his expression for making his brother normal again

i thought itd be lame to have part of the buildup to the climax of egghogs be eggman kidnapping the defected boys back but have no actual consequences / have them be saved and nothing changed. silver is just clockwork oranged but shadow is artificial and gerald developed sophisticated systems specifically on manipulating and removing shadow's memories

the effect on silver is just even MORE assurance that going back would be a mistake and that his father is firmly in the wrong. it's the final nail in the coffin of his past life. sonic visits him often, and no matter how many times they talk, no matter how many approaches he takes, there is no breakthrough.

the general sentiment is "don't you see what he's done to me? this isn't kind, this isn't loving. he may have given me a plush bed and a room, but this is a PRISON. he's keeping you in these same chains and you're suffering so badly and you don't even see it for what it is. he's abused you, belittled you, brainwashed you, lied to all of us. and you're complacent in what's happening to me, to shadow... you partially orchestrated us coming back here for your own gain and didn't even listen to us when we told you a long time ago we didn't want to come back. what do you hope to gain from this? all you're gaining is more hurt and you're losing my trust."

OH YEAH also i decided that sonic would pretend to run away, give a sob story to amy about how he's changed, and thus be led right to where shadow and silver are.

lots of complex emotions are had. sonic sees just how much his brothers have changed, have lost their way. and he sees how well they're living. this must be some kind of trick, this kindness is unfamiliar and wrong. indulgence in comforts must be why, or amy and tails brainwashing them must be why, or... y'know, anything. witnessing firsthand how they're living, how they think... he wasn't sure about this at first, but he's sure now. they need guidance and they need to be back to normal so sonic can have them back.

so that night sonic alerts eggman to their location. he raids tails' workshop and takes the boys with him. and sonic says that they're finally going back home.

[bibibbon]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks...

Thank you for the ask and no, no one has asked me this before.

I must admit Iam someone who doesn't really have favourite characters in a way I can rank them but I like talking about every character I find interesting which tends to be majority. Also my opinions about what characters I like change very frequently.

I find it hard to rank characters I like from different media so here's the list in no particular order

Katara (avatar the last airbender) - ever since I watched atla I have always loved katara and the premise of her character. Katara is someone who lost her mother at a young age due to abilities that she possessed of being a water bender. She was then forced into a motherly role after her father left for war so she definitely struggled coming to terms with a lot of things and probably felt a sense of isolation being the only bender in her tribe. I love how katara is tough and femine at the same time, how she also has her own complex feelings about things and how she is the glue to team avatar.

Pidge (Voltron) - no I was never active in the Voltron fandom but even with the wasted potential of the show pidge will always be my favourite character in that series. Pidge is a character who would do anything for both knowledge and family. Her knowledge is what ends up saving voltorn a lot of the time and I loved her motivations and the character conflict she had where she wanted to prioritise her family over Voltron. (Ps I don't recommend watching voltron the story writing went out the window in season 2)

Itadori yuuji (Jujutsu kaisen)- I think you kinda tell the type of characters I like by now all are moan characters (I guess I just have a soft spot for MCs). To me yuji is a very fascinating character he can bring out the best people and honestly his character arc is very satisfying to see. The boy who was cursed to try and save people failing to do so and then going on to develop ideologies like how he is just a cog within a system and how his only purpose is to be a vessel and die but then all of that being broken Infront of him and he ends up causing the people he wanted to protect pain just by existing is something so heartshattering. The losses he goes through and how he always viewed himself as a lonely guy but now he finds strength in community and ends up viewing his only purpose is to save megumi.

Izuku midoriya (my hero academia)- Iam not sure if this counts but Iam more in love with the wasted potential and the what we could of had when it comes to izuku. Izuku isn't the regular shonen MC kinda guy there are many scenes of him analysing and overthinking things easily. He is also someone who isn't afraid to show and express his emotions and I truly wish he was handled by a better writer because there are some very small things I like about his character that don't get explored. Izuku is a very emotionally intelligent character who is able to realise a lot of things about people he usually spots and sees what people want to keep hidden and he isn't afraid to point these things out and actually do something about it.

Takemichi hanagaki (tokyo revengers)- This was the first series I actually started to make theories for and I loved takemichi as an MC. He was someone who made a lot of mistakes in the past and got the chance to change everything so he did and he tried to become everyone's saviour but sometimes not everyone can be saved. I just also really love the idea of a character who was lonely and got a chance to escape from that lonieless and surround himself with the people he loved just to slowly lose them and then goes on to blame himself and views that his only way of redeeming himself is to help another person suffering the same fate as him (I think the TR ending could of been improved a whole lot more but Iam not mad with what we got it's pretty good for a time travel and deliqunent manga)

Mao Mao (the apothecary diaries)- honestly I love how relatable and adorable she is. There is also the fact that she grew up in a bath house where her emotional needs where neglected so she grew up quite apathetic and slowly her character is used to explore the female world in china and how broken and unfair the system can be to people all make me love her character. Also who doesn't want to be a cat and spend their days doing nothing.

Violet evergarden (violet evergarden)- oh how much I hold this short series dearly. Violet was always used as a tool her entire life the series follows her journey of her learning love she goes and writes letters for people trying to capture what they want to say and understands their feelings learning about different types of love whole she slowly starts to incorporate that into her life. I do have some mixed feelings about the ending considering that Gilbert and her share a nine year age gap and some of the controversial stuff that goes with the ship but overall violets story is really beautifully executed and her character development is beautiful.

Eren Yeager (attack on titan)- Yes another MC I love. If you're wondering no I don't believe Eren was right for what he did but i understand why he did it. I understand why he wanted destruction and viewed the world as a rotten place I also understand why he wanted to abandon his duty and live out his life in peace with the person he loved. I love how isayama wrote his character and I especially love how he humanised Eren in chapter 139 and actually showed us that Eren is still a 19 year old who was exploited and used as a child soldier, a child who saw too much when he was too young in a world that was too cruel for him to survive.

Genya Shinazugawa (demon slayer)- he definitely deserved more screentime but I love genya he is an absolute menace all he needs is some demon flesh and a gun and he is sorted. I loved his character arc with sanemi how the manga explored his confusion of what happend to his mother, him naturally growing to become cold hearted to survive, him wanting nothing but his brothers love and the tragedy behind his character how he could never hear his brothers last words to him.

Percy Jackson (Percy Jackson)- loved this series and I read it when I was young. I mainly love how Percy is just a little confused meance to society who has a fatal flaw of being too loyal to the ones he loves. His story of not fitting in and his relationship with his mum Sally is everything to me. I haven't read the series in a long time but I still truly love Percy.

Yeah my liking for characters is actually very basic. Majority of these characters are main characters but that doesn't mean I don't like talking about other characters I just like thinking about and analysing these characters way more also this list changes a lot of the time. Again thank you for the ask

[lya-dustin]

All is bliss

Chapter 36

Cw:unsafe drinking, intrigue

Gif by @baddie-on-a-mission-xx

Taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @mercedesdecorazon @watercolorskyy @aemondx @sweethoneyblossom1 @ewanmitchellcrumbs @alexandria-millie

Aemma drinks a small glass of wine and braces herself as she opens her bedroom door.

She walks with purpose and confidence to her destination and waits patiently after knocking on the door.

Septon Eustace is shocked to say the least as he apologized for taking so long to answer his door.

“What can I do for you, your grace?” He asked, rubbing his eyes from sleep, he had left the feast early as usual. Had to be well-rested for tomorrow when he blesses the funeral procession.

“I need you to perform funeral rites for the dead.” The young queen said the words she has rehearsed ever since she got this idea.

People who were executed were not given funeral blessings or had rites performed unless they were of the noble class and of moral standing.

Either by mistake or for whatever reason Aegon had done it no one, absolutely no one, was giving any sort of respectful burial.

“I can only do so to whole bodies, only the heads remain, your grace.” The Septon said tiredly, as if he too had been against it.

Once you scratched the surface you found Aegon’s reign stood on a foundation of sand.

No one wanted him as king, his only epithet is Aegon the Usurper.

Couldn’t even call him Aegon the Mediocre.

“I do not care, do what you must and allow them to rest in peace.” The young queen stood her ground and the Septon gave in without a second to even give a half-assed argument.

“I can perform a blessing if they are buried, we would need permission to give them a burial.” He said as if that was difficult to obtain.

She is about to whore herself out to get children to stop being sold like chattel in Flea Bottom, a place to bury those who suffered Aegon’s wrath will be easy to get.

“Leave that to me, your holiness.” The young queen said, and the old man looked at her the same way Orwyle and Jena did.

He looked at her with hope.

When she returns to her room, she finds Aemond drinking enough for both.

In the odd turn of events, Aegon had all the cravings she had and Aemond got the nausea she occasionally got.

So far things had been going smoothly, she had gained the right amount of weight and Aemond only had to lie once about why he couldn’t stand the stench of garlic.

“Where were you?” he asked annoyed and yet looking at her like he wanted to consume her body and soul.

To be fair cunnilingus was referred to as eating cunt these days.

And boy did her lover feast on her like a man starved.

“Had some business to attend to.” she said, keeping it vague as she began to undress in her dressing room.

It wasn’t that he wouldn’t approve, but more like he doesn’t care for anyone outside his immediate circle and thinks her caring about others is a little odd.

He humored her, just as the rest do, even mother did.

Otto, Viserys and Alicent had instilled in them that if one gave things like education and freedoms and other progressive things like that, the smallfolk would realize nobility and royalty are merely titles one gives power to.

It wouldn't kill them to end the practice of serfdom or allow trade guilds to include women or make their subjects literate, they just think it will and it was a fucking problem.

Even mother and both her grandfathers thought the same.

Only grandmother thought differently because after her mother died Queen Alysanne and her father raised her and Aemon was of the same mind as his lady mother.

“If you were wondering where your husband is, don’t bother looking for him he fell asleep from the wine.” Aemond is smiling from the sheer luck of it all.

She can hear it in his voice as he comes to help her out of the dress.

“Thank the gods, I felt dirty and used when it hit me that I was whoring myself ---and you---for a semblance of power here.” She admitted avoiding his gaze through the looking glass.

He doesn’t know she only agreed to it because it is the only way they can be together.

“Good, I know you wouldn’t believe it after the things I said at supper, but I would rather take my remaining eye out than have him watch me fuck.” He confessed as he searched for laces or buttons on the back and sides.

The dress was fastened by the silver clasps accentuating her cleavage.

“Am I going to have to cut you out of this dress?” he asked after he gave up.

Once she was literally sewed into a dress, it had been hell to remove, and she knows Aemond took immense pleasure in tearing it off her with his dagger.

“No, dearest, the smith who made the silverwork, had the genius idea of making them clasps.” Aemma demonstrated by undoing them one by one.

If these innovations persist, the handmaidens who dress her will be out of their jobs, the queen thinks as she eased her own clothing off her body.

The shifts she usually wore underneath had been replaced by a red silk petticoat that matched the lining of the sleeves. The ribbon tying it to her waist is familiar enough for Aemond to undo.

And because neither wants to pay the toll, this may as well be the last time they are together.

Only a handful of people are brave enough to come.

“They plan to retake Dragonstone while the Western lords fight by the Riverlords, Prince Jacaerys has a bold plan to end the war.” Mysaria whispered to the young queen who stands there and says all the right prayers as the Septon sends off the innocent into the afterlife.

Her innocent baby boy would have been one and twenty, he would have been named Baelon after the Spring Prince. He would have been a man, a knight with his own keep and lands and would never fear a slaver’s boat or the auction block or the whip of a master.

He would have been the sun to her, and they took him from her before he had even been born.

That night she had wished to kill Otto Hightower herself, but she settled with taking out his eyes and feeding them to the ravens she keeps.

Rhaenyra and Viserys were dead and paid for what they did to her only Alicent Hightower, Daemon and Larys Strong remained.

“And how would they win the war without an army? The north cannot come, the Velaryon fleet has no commanders, and the Lannisters will likely make mincemeat out of the riverlords.” The little queen asked, no longer the same girl she had been before.

The proud little queen had been humbled, and with the right person, she could be molded into someone better than Alysanne Targaryen.

Mysaria could be that person.

She could make the queen and have all those who wronged her begging for her mercy.

Wasn’t it just wonderful?

The woman whose happiness they took making a queen out of the child of the one who helped Hightower and his dog kill her innocent baby.

“They have dragons, more so than your captors. Prince Aemond will be sent to take Harrenhal while Daemon is gone and the Western lords dead, with the Hightower host busy burying their dead, the city will be ripe for the taking.” Lady Misery gives the good news.

If it all went well, the war would be over before the last of the harvests is brought into the city’s storages.

[darkleysgarden]

Behaving like a Child

Part of my Satan Suffers series.

2068 words.

Satan & Leviathan

Angst | Hurt/Comfort

Warning: Not eating because of bring upset.

Summary: Satan runs away after getting into a big fight with Lucifer. Leviathan gets worried and goes after him. Who knew Satan would be in such horrible condition?

He stood in the charred, broken, ruined remains of their common area, anger burning underneath his skin like a lifeline.

The grime and blood on his face itched and ached. He held a permanently wrathful scowl on his face, directing it at the man he had despised since he was just a little boy. His father, Lucifer.

His wrath ran hot through his blood, the only energy left in his body coming from that very power.

"Satan, you must stop behaving so childishly," Lucifer held his perfect composure, "Look at the mess you've made. My comment should not have affected you. You need to get in control of your emotions."

"Shut the fuck up!" He yelled, Lucifer's words barely even registered anymore, Satan just had enough, "Stop ordering me around! 'Satan, this! Satan, that!' Leave me the fuck alone! I hate you! I hate you so much! I wish you weren't ever a part of my life!"

The others were crowding around, watching eagerly. Satan couldn't find it in himself to care.

"I'm leaving," He shoved Lucifer, gasps emitting from the crowd, "I can't even bear to see your face anymore! Don't you dare come after me! Any of you! I'm not any of your guy's precious little nephew anymore! Not your precious little son who is so obedient! I'm done. Have a good rest of your lives," He finished screaming, storming out of the house.

He didn't bother to look back as his uncle's crowded around the man he hated. They were asking for answers, concerned about the fight. Stupid. None of their business anyway.

He isn't a child anymore. He can do whatever he wants. He doesn't need to live in a household where he is coddled and treated as such.

His demon form stayed, and so did the anger. He walked through the Devildom streets, feet landing a bit harder than they should in any normal step.

The movements didn't stop until he reached the Demon Lord's castle. He didn't knock, throwing the door open and reaching Barbatos as soon as possible. He had a clear goal in his mind.

Barbatos laughed at his desperation, Satan couldn't help the anger that swelled at that. The cruel demon butler did as he asked anyway, transporting him to the human world.

All it took was a step through one of his portals, and there he was. Hotel Corvo.

Without even thinking, he rented a room and threw himself onto the too comfortable bed that lay there.

Lucifer was an idiot. He hated him so much.

The anger final started to dissipate, and his gut tightened. Before he knew it, wet, hot tears ran down his cheeks.

He sobbed, unable to stop himself.

Curling under the blankets, his mind ran fast.

Fucking hell, he hated himself so fucking much.

Why was this his life?

His heart ached painfully.

Something inside him told him he was making a huge mistake.

Go home. You need your uncles.

No. He is not going back. Not ever.

He doesn't need them. He never did.

This is all stupid.

○●○●○●○●○

Satan awoke to a harsh pounding in his head.

His whole body felt numb as he curled in on himself tighter.

The weight of everything that happened yesterday came crashing down onto him.

A stupid fight had broken out. Satan acted childish. He's always so childish. Then he ran away like some ignorant five year old who wasn't given a cookie because they didn't finish their dinner.

No wonder Lucifer thought he acted like a spoiled brat.

He couldn't go back now. He didn't plan to. It's too embarrassing. He acted like a child. He is still a child.

No matter his age, he always feels so much younger inside. The circumstances of his birth are tearing away at whatever sense of youth or maturity he has.

He's always felt messed up. His connections to Lilith, his connections to Lucifer, his weird relationship with his age, and all of his other problems.

Maybe that's why he was so mad.

His birthday is approaching. A month or so.

Lucifer had approached him, asking about what they should arrange for the date and what he wished to receive for gifts.

Satan thought back to something he'd been wishing for for years. He wanted to hold his party on his actual birth date. They always had it a few days after his birthday because of Lilith. Part of him selfishly wanted them to get over her and focus on him instead. It was his day now. She was gone; he was still here. Why should they spend the day grieving while he sat out, holding his birthday cake in a corner all by himself as they shared memories of days before he was alive. It felt unfair.

He knew it was selfish. Yet, he couldn't find it in himself to fully care. It had been years. He wants to have his day. If only just once. It's all he could ask for.

So, he asked Lucifer for that very thing. He didn't care if he held a party, if there were gifts galore, he just wanted his day. He wanted to spend that day with his brothers. He didn't want them to be sad for that day either.

No matter how selfish, he requested it anyway.

And when Lucifer denied it, he felt rage build up.

Can he not have his one day?

Lucifer called him selfish, childish.

Satan was taking away their day of grief. Lucifer was right. Yet, Satan blew up anyway. That's how the fight started. Many more petty insults and lies were thrown out in the heat of the flames building.

He didn't want to think about this anymore.

The blanket was pulled tighter over his head.

Maybe he'd sleep a little longer.

Perhaps his headache would go away. Or maybe even the ache in his heart that begged him to reconsider.

○●○●○●○●○●○

Satan had been gone for over a week, and Leviathan was beyond worried.

This wasn't like him. Sure, he'd threatened running away before, he'd attempted a few times too. Levi couldn't even begin to count the number of times he'd stopped Satan from walking out the door with only a backpack full of supplies.

However, he'd never been gone for more than a day. At absolute most.

At school, everyone was talking about it. He'd ruined his perfect attendance.

None of them could get Lucifer to admit what happened. His pride overflowed even when his son was missing. Though, everyone could tell that Lucifer was secretly worried too. Because, who wouldn't be?

Leviathan sat in class, fidgeting with his fingers. Worry stressed his body completely.

It was unlikely that Barbatos would be able to tell him anything. His pledge and all. Yet, Barbatos seemed to have eyes everywhere. So, it was worth a small ask.

"Uhm, Barbatos," He awkwardly leaned forward, attempting to ask to the best of his ability, "Do you have any idea where Satan ran off to?"

He phrased it jokingly, trying his best not to make it awkward. As always, he did make it awkward anyway.

Barbatos nodded, "I do." He gestured off into the distance, "I created a portal for him, allowing him to go to the human realm as he wished to."

"WHAT!?" Leviathan screamed, a blush rising all the way to his ears as the entire class turned to him, teacher glaring at his misbehavior.

"So-sorry," He muttered out. The class seemed to shrug it off and move forward with their lesson.

When peace returned, quite this time, he spoke to Barbatos again, "Why did he go there!? Why did you allow him!? Where in the human world even is he!? Is he okay!? Do you even know!? Why did he run away!? Doesn't he know we all miss him and lov-"

Levi sucked in a deep breath, "Sorry. I'm just worried..."

"It is quite alright," Barbatos kept his perfect composure, "I do know where he is."

When Barbatos didn't continue, Levi's anxiety returned, "Well!?"

"He's currently reserving a room at the Hotel Corvo," Barbatos smiled.

"Take Me there," Levi immediately blurted out.

"Not so fast, young man," Barbatos exclaimed, jokingly? Levi didn't know if he ever joked, "Wait until the school day is over. If you don't, I'll be seeing you in detention."

Leviathan shivered. He's only been to one detention hosted by Barbatos, and they are brutal. He's just glad he isn't a detention regular like Mammon or Thirteen. Well, Mammon kinda deserves that. Karma for all those missing Ruri-chan figurines.

Painstakingly, he powered through the entire day of school.

Afterwards, he met Barbatos. The man opened a portal as he had promised, one that brought him to the entrance of Diavolo's hotel.

Leviathan wasn't the best at feelings or anything really. But, he will do his best to make sure his adorable little brother returns home safe and sound.

○●○●○●○●○●○

He hadn't moved from the bed since he had gotten to the hotel. He was still covered in the grime and blood. His clothes were the same ones he wore during the fight. He hadn't eaten. He couldn't bring himself to eat. He was miserable.

Is this what breaking felt like? Was this his final straw?

All those thousands of years of being denied a simple day that was meant for him. All those years of being overestimated as well as underestimated. The years when he was continuously compared to his father and his dead sister.

All he wanted was his own day.

But that was taken from him hours before he cried his first tears.

He was over feeling bad for his selfishness. He was over everything.

He lay underneath the tight hotel blankets, lights out. Footsteps trotted, stomped, skipped.

Then, amongst everything, a knock sounded at his door.

He didn't say a word, hoping they would go away. It was probably just a random worker anyway.

Then, another knock, "Satan?"

Satan's eyes widened at the sound of his older brother's voice.

Leviathan was always there for him in his times of need. It was always nice to have a shoulder to cry on. Hell, he's Asmo's shoulder majority of the time.

Levi came for him.

Does this mean he truly cares about him?

"Satan can I come in?" Levi's anxious voice sounded again, "I- um- can't come in myself. The door's locked."

For the first time in awhile, he moved the blanket off of himself, sitting up. He regained his composure, standing.

He quickly collapsed, his body wasn't used to the weight again yet.

"Are you okay!?" Leviathan panicked behind the door.

After a deep breath, the wrath demon stood again, stepping over to the door.

He flinched slightly at the lights in the hallway before a huge smile broke out onto his face at the sight of his lovely older brother.

Before he knew it, his body was collapsing again, this time into Levi's arms.

Levi hugged him back, awkwardly scooting them into the room, closing the door.

Levi continued to scoot Satan's dead weight until the finally reached the bed.

"I was worried, you know," The purple-haired brother said.

Satan didn't speak, only hugging Levi tighter. Levi's hand worked into Satan's hair, running his fingers through the blonde strands.

He couldn't hold it in any longer, Satan began to cry.

The two didn't speak. They only held each other tight.

And when Satan's sobs quieted down, he felt drowsy. His eyes started to droop as his body weight died in the arms of the elder.

"I'll let you sleep for now," Levi sighed, "But when you wake up, I'm going to get you food and water. Then we can talk about going home. No offense, but you look like me after a twenty-four hour stream. AKA, like shit. You're pale, have eye bags, your eyes are sunken in. You look like you're haven't eaten, slept, or drinking water all week."

Satan stayed silent, knowing he'd hardly done any of that.

Levi pulled him down into a laying position, "For now, sleep. You need it."

He let himself sleep then. Right now, he didn't have to worry about the stress of Lucifer, his brothers, or returning home in general.

Now, he just had the comfort of the brother he considered to be the one he'd always rely on.

He snuggled deeper into Levi's arms.

At least he had this.

[ccaptain]

@frozenambiguity​ said: «Even after all these years... Nothing has changed. Why can’t you be honest with me? With yourself?» A small ghost from the past visits the captain's... dream? Nightmare? To be determined. Perhaps his presence is unwelcomed. All matters considered, it can be torturous to face oneself and still receive judgment for your conduct. 

An ocean starry eye inspects that which he has become. He has grown taller. Apart from the natural laws of growth, however, he does not appear to have changed much. And... There it is. The sadness in his gaze. The guilt. The lies. Will they ever vanish? Will there ever be a time when he can just... exist? To be himself, his true self, without fearing external consequences? Perhaps the young boy desires to hold onto those childish, foolish dreams.

«This... emptiness. It will go away, right...?» Right? A foolish question. They both know it.

   when kaeya dreams, it’s never good. 

   even the sweetest of illusions must unravel the horror within. idealistic visages turn into alcohol-fueled night terrors: there’s blood, dismemberment and death in his mind, in every step of the way. 

   in kaeya’s dreams, nothing sits still except for a child.

   how long has he carried his innocent, young version of himself with him? he must have seen countless horrors. he must have seen his father die, the surfacing truth driving a permanent wedge between him and his beloved brother- how they both learned that rain can’t wash away sins, no matter how heavy the downpour.

   he remembers how little fingers clung to his leg as they witnessed the last of his innocence die, slaughtered by the consequence of his own actions. his mouth tasted like copper. a crimson pool was growing larger by the seconds, staining the knight’s uniform. he remembers dark cobalt hair scattered about as if it was an halo around the corpse’s head.

   here laid at their feet kaeya ragnvindr, unmoving body of someone who was full of life once.

   the child has seen a bottle of alcohol per night being depleted quickly, much quicker than the purchasing time was. how crimson stains blossomed on the white blouse as he drank it down, eager to find some peace in the numbness. 

   the adult that has failed at everything finds comfort in denying himself the pleasure of a comfortable mattress. he’s deserving of the crick in his neck and the stiffness of his shoulders in his wake.

   when his brother seems eons distant, when life has lost the taste of wonder for the unknown, when the days are monotonous repeats of the previous one- kaeya keeps persisting, one foot in front of the other. 

   he doesn’t know why. perhaps it’s out of spite.

   there’s this sense of vindication in stubbornly staying alive after he has ruined everything- not a thing is salvageable, there’s not an home to turn to- not anymore. wherever he looks, there’s just the vastness of the mistakes that he’s made to suffer. there’s no backpedaling. there’s no turning back.

   he’s lost, his raft is falling apart, and he has stopped fearing the abyssal depths calling for him. 

   how does he start to explain, where...? the child’s questions crash on him like waves, and he wishes to drown to avoid answering. it’d be such a relief is water filled his lungs, preventing him from uttering a single word. it’s a confrontation that’s long overdue.

   yet, kaeya cannot answer.

   please, he begs to no one in particular, shaky hands slowly coming up to shield his face from that gaze. please, how can i...

   kaeya alberich refuses to let a child look at his despairing expression. he is nothing but a coward, each shake of his shoulder a shameful one.

   he should be a knight, able to protect what little innocence his past self should have had. what is he doing instead? 

   ‘ i... ‘ a swallow. locks of dark cobalt are tousled and damp with sweat, trapped between trembling digits. ‘ i wish i could... i’m... i’m sorry, sweet star, ‘ he finally manages to utter, voice cracking like stainless glass. he fails at being comforting, utterly so.

   ‘ i wish- i wish i could tell you that it will, but... i don’t know. i’m sorry, i’m so sorry- ‘

   i wish you won’t have to drown because of me. because of us.