#but he CAN remove him from the premises if he so desires

[vullcanica]

"You aren't the boss of me ❤️" - signed, a certain grumpy vampire

"Oh no you misunderstand. I don't claim to be. However..."

He picks Forsythe up around the middle like a lap dog and carries him off. Brat.

// @serpentxprince

[americankimchi]

Do you have any tips for writing Obi Wan or any meta in mind with his characterizarion?

hmmm sure why not! i'll give a few tips on how i'd write obi-wan. mind you this is how i interpret the character, so ymmv.

i truly do not like it when fics have obi-wan voluntarily leaving the order. like it's so out-of-character for me in my head that the premise of the story + the writing would have to work triple-time to get me to stick around. now if he's been removed from it by an EXTERNAL SOURCE (not the order. i cannot stress this enough: the jedi kicking obi-wan out is so jarring to me i'll leave the fic in an instant) or somehow unable to return to the order for whatever reason, all is well.

not a prodigy, but a genius. obi-wan is an incredibly intelligent person with an absolutely staggering knowledge base in a wide variety of topics, but all that knowledge was earned through blood, sweat, tears, and time. he sat down with his game face on and put in the work. that's also why he makes an excellent teacher: he knows what most students will struggle with because he struggled too, and knows through experience how best to overcome them. i headcanon that it contributes to why he's such a good negotiator: he's really good at stripping down information to the essentials and communicating that information effectively and efficiently to others because of his intense study habits.

humble, but not ignorant of his skills. it's pretty impossible to fully divorce yourself from pride in your achievements, and i don't think it's healthy to not feel any pride at all, so i think obi-wan has a very clear understanding of his skillset and how best to use it. i don't think he'd be ignorant of how good he is at something, especially since the direct consequence of his aptitude led him to being a member of the jedi council. pretty hard to be blind to your strengths when you're being asked for your input on topics that directly draw from that knowledge.

averse to healthcare. listen i enjoy obi-wan whump just as much as the next obi-wan stan (the desire to put him in the cosmic salad spinner comes with the territory, i fear) but as a character who grew up in an environment that deeply cares for the well-being of all, and knowing that you cannot help others unless you yourself first have the ability to do so, i can't really see him ignoring injuries outside of combat scenarios. like on the battlefield he's got more pressing concerns than a pesky little shrapnel wound or five, but once the battle's over?? he might not be first in line to the medics but i can't see him avoiding them entirely. an army without a general is working at a sharp disadvantage and i don't think he'd risk his men by neglecting his physical health in that manner. note that i said 'physical'. make of that what you will :)

duty. obi-wan is the definition of a paladin. he takes an oath and by the force he's going to keep it. train the boy? absolutely, qui-gon. whether or not anakin chooses to respect that training is another matter, but he did definitively get knighted! refuse to kill anakin? listen he's handed vader his own ass to him twice post order 66 and each time he did it he did it nonlethally. that takes skill. that takes dedication. exile yourself to tatooine for 19 years and then decide fuck it, we ball, and die after Once Again Deciding Not To Kill Anakin Skywalker? step aside casper, there's a new friendly ghost in town. every time obi-wan commits to something the man COMMITS. you GOTTA respect that grind.

flirty but in the sense that he's going to match the energy someone brings to the table. like he's a negotiator. he knows how to read people and figure out the Vibes. if he thinks the other person will be 1) 100% receptive and 2) will respond with a delightful wit, why the hell not? obi-wan's highest stat is charisma and he's got expertise in persuasion. whether they're allies or not does not factor into this equation. he can have a little flirtation with morally dubious and potentially hostile characters. as a treat.

this has nothing to do with his character but i firmly believe that he and quinlan vos had at LEAST a fling when they were padawans. there is zero evidence to back this up aside from a few comics where they were being goofy teenagers together but i stand by this. it is an unshakeable aspect of obi-wan to me that has only gotten worse with the kenobi show.

no matter what, no matter how terrible or devastating or downright apocalyptic it gets, obi-wan kenobi will never fall to the dark side. never. it won't be easy, but that is a line he has never, and will never cross. i will not hear any "obi-wan touched the dark side during the theed generator fight" slander. if that was true tell me why the force theme was playing during his moment of triumph!!! Would John Williams Lie To Us Like That?? to our face?????

anyways i could go on forever about obi-wan because he is My Ultimate Blorbo but this post is getting super long so i'll leave it there. hope this helped even a little or at the very least was entertaining for you to read <3

[averagewriter-inthedark]

A Dragon Does Now Bow Down 🐉 | HOTD Imagine P.1

GOT/HOTD masterlist | | Part 2

Characters & Pairings: Targaryen/Lannister!OC—Daerra Targaryen x the Greens (platonic) & the Blacks (platonic)

Content Warnings: follows episodes 1-7 of S.1, fluff (between oc and kids) angst, implied character death, blood, violence, dysfunctional family dynamics, eventual B&C, slight canon divergence | female!OC (she/her) | wc: 8k

Premise: The House of the Dragon is an impenetrable force when standing together. Bound by love, duty, and sacrifice. But when sides are drawn between kin, not even the glue that holds them together can withstand.

Note: this is a direct result of an AU idea I had where the children of the Greens had an actual motherly figure who cared for them and was also a neutral party between the Greens & Blacks. So yeah, I’m sorry this will be more angsty and dark in part 2.

-----------------

Hand turns loom; spool of green, spool of black; dragons of flesh weaving dragons of thread.

It was believed by the Wise King Jaehaerys I that the only thing that could tear down the house of the dragon was itself. Oh how right he was. 

The threat of war loomed over with each passing moon. Bringing unease to his youngest grandchild, Daerra.

Born to his daughter Gael in 95 AC when she was only ten and five. The only legitimate child to her marriage to a lord of House Lannister who shared Targaryen heritage. He died shortly after her birth resulting in Gael returning to the Red Keep where she raised the babe with her siblings and cousins. They took a liking to Daerra--especially the Good Queen Alysanne. Her older cousins; Rhaenys, Viserys, and Daemon were around at times. Mainly at family gatherings since they were all 15+ years older than Daerra. 

A Targaryen beauty with signature attributes to Lannisters, Daerra was a sight to behold. Silver hair she often kept short and curly, and piercing green eyes that resemble emeralds. While her father may have been a Lannister, she only ever referred to herself as a Targaryen. Only ever wearing the colors of red and black. 

Unfortunately Daerra would know loss again at the age of four, when her mother drowned herself in the Blackwater Bay following the stillbirth of her younger brother. From then on, Daerra was under the care of her cousins Aemma and Viserys, who had their young daughter, Rhaenyra, two years prior to Gael’s death. Raising them like sisters since the couple were not blessed with another child by the Gods. 

As children up until adolescence the two were like peas in a pod, though they had their differences. Both enjoyed riding their dragons, though never together. Rhaenyra with her golden queen Syrax, and Daerra with the ferocious Cannibal. Whose eyes were a stunning green as though they were filled with Wildfire. Matching Daerra so closely, it made people wonder if it were the reason the wild beast surrendered to her. Earning her the title, ‘Daerra the Daring,’ when she claimed the mighty dragon on the eve of her tenth nameday at Dragonstone, after stumbling upon his nest when she ventured too far from the castle. Removing red from her wardrobe to only wear black with green trimming in honor of him. 

The bond between dragon and rider was something Daerra was taught by her grandmother the Good Queen. A longing feeling she desired to connect with their ancient heritage. Cannibal was a magnificent creature. When not on Dragonstone, Cannibal was free to roam the outskirts of the city away from the Dragonpit. 

So as to not cause an issue with his….particular taste for food. 

While Rhaenyra had to maintain the statue of a Princess, Daerra had much more freedom during childhood. Which in turn resulted in slight envy from the young heir. Daerra got to go to Dragonstone whenever she pleased so long as the King approved. She got to train under the Rogue Prince himself, Daemon--which fueled Rhaenyra’s jealousy, and learn to fight like a warrior. While Rhaenyra always had a book or quill in her hand, Daerra had a sword or her trusty leather whip. She was his protege. On her fifteenth name day, Lady Daerra was gifted a Valryian steel blade she named Destiny.

Daemon taught her strategy and ways to disarm a man. Not to mention he warned her of snakes in his brother's council.  

Speaking of the council, there were mixed reactions when it came to Daerra and the privileges her cousin gave her. Viserys didn’t rush to marry her off when she came of age, much to the displeasure of his Hand, Otto Hightower. The cunning man desperately wanted to rid the Red Keep of her when she grew to be a mini version of his political headache. Even tempted to offer his own son's hand, until whispers spread of young Lords attempting to court the Lady going missing. Fruitless accusations that were enough to ward off prospects. 

“Is it true,” Rhaenyra raced after Daerra, dressed in her riding gear as she brushed through the mane of her horse before departing to see her dragon. 

“What do you speak of, cousin?” 

Rhaenyra gave a pointed look, glancing over her shoulder before leaning closer to whisper, “People are saying you fed those men who tried to win your hand to Cannibal.” The princess received a snicker.

“So that is the rumor I’ve been hearing amongst the court,” her laugh was dry, turning slightly to face her cousin. “Don’t be foolish, Rhaenyra, he only eats his own,” Daerra denied, but her eyes told a different story. One the princess wasn’t sure she wanted to know. 

Whatever the truth was, it had the outcome Daerra wanted. And that was to avoid marriage for as long as possible. The main reason being when Viserys named his daughter the heir to the Iron Throne. Daerra was ten and seven, beaming with pride while masking the bubble of anxiety in her chest. Greedy Lords would race to win her hand, and offer up their daughters/sisters to the King now that his wife, Queen Aemma, was with the Gods. 

Daerra scoured the court intently. Observing everyone who crossed paths with the King. Particularly Otto Hightower and Corlys Velaryon, who both had young daughters and were ambitious for power. 

“Any ladies the object of your attention, dear cousin?” Daerra clasped her hands behind her back, matching Viserys pace along the gardens. He’d appeared solemn, stress making his features age. 

“Don’t tell me you dragged me out here to hear of my quarrels with marriage prospects. I thought you better than that, Daerra.” His tone was fond, almost fatherly like. Considering he practically raised her since she was four. The two were semi-close with each other.

The young woman snorted, “Oh, you know I prefer the training yard or the skies. But I worry for you.” She stops, making him do the same. The sun beating down brought heat to their skin as their thick clothing absorbed the rays. Illuminating their emerald and lilac eyes that would have any artist wanting to paint a portrait. “Daemon is off in the stepstones doing Gods knows what. Your council keeps bothering you about a wife--and for Rhaenyra to take a husband. Not to mention they still question your decision to name her your heir. Must be exhausting.”

“It is,” the King agrees with a sigh, looking down at his boots. Wishing nothing more than to return to his model of Old Valyria. “With everything happening, I find myself missing Aemma more than ever.” Daerra’s heart tightened, mirroring his saddened expression. Aemma was like a mother to her, raising her as a surrogate daughter following multiple failed pregnancies. 

“I as well. Queen Aemma was the heart of this family,” Daerra glanced up to the heavens, feeling a light breeze drift over them. “Her loss is felt within the Keep. And you should not rush to pledge yourself to another until you feel the time is right. Otherwise you are dooming the both of you.” 

Though she did not have experience with love, Daerra witnessed it throughout her life. The love her grandparents had with each other. The way Corlys and Rhaenys were. The devotion Viserys had to Aemma, and the stories of his parents, Baelon and Alyssa. Love matches were rare, but they existed. And if blessed, one may experience more than one in their lifetime. 

She had hoped that for Viserys. Unfortunately, her advice was met on deaf ears when he announced not long after his intent to marry Alicent Hightower. The daughter of his Hand, and dear friend to his own daughter. 

Daerra was enraged. Disgusted even. How could her cousin marry a girl the same age as Rhaenyra. Younger than her by three name days. Never did she see the two together during the day, and it took some convincing for the King’s guard to tell her the two had secret meetings during the night. 

‘Of course,’ she thought, clutching her fists as the need to break something became too much to bear. If there was one thing Daerra was also known for in the Seven Kingdoms….it was her temper. Rivaling that of Daemon when she finally burst after penting up frustration for days. Earning her another nickname of the Dragon with a Lion’s roar. However, she had to remain composed. This was the King, not just her cousin. And while he allowed her freedom and often glanced the other way when she gave cheek to Lords and Ladies of the Court, the same would not be directed at him. 

In the end, Daerra told Viserys, “I hope you know what you’re doing, cousin.” And when he questioned her statement, her reply was simply, “You lack to see the weight this union has put on our House. And I hope you are ready for the pressure that will come the moment you sire more heirs. For yours and Rhaenyra--and even Alicent’s sake,” she paused, narrowing her brows at the man who raised her. “I hope the Gods bless you with only daughters.” 

Of course, Viserys believed her to over exaggerate. Even when he caught her stiff expression at his wedding. Standing beside his daughter with her hands clasped behind her back, dressed in black with gold accents. The way she assessed him was almost like a warning. But again, Viserys took it like a grain of salt. In his eyes, Rhaenyra was his heir and the Lords of Westeros pledged to her before him and the Gods. Swearing fealty, which was more valuable than any gold in the country. 

He failed to realize they would not be forthcoming once he had a son. When that day came, Daerra felt the shift. As she glanced down at the babe in her arms, having taken him while Alicent rested before Viserys was to present him to the court, Daerra’s usual rough exterior crumbled. 

There was such an innocence to babes. Unaware of the harsh realities the world possessed. Small little things who only desired love and attention. “Hello, little one,” she whispered to Aegon. His bright lilac eyes staring up at her in wonder. Silver strands of hair on his head, skin soft and smooth as her finger stroked his cheek. “I’m your cousin, Daerra. Oh how the realm has awaited your arrival,” her gaze softens, a tinge of sadness in her tone. “But I’m sorry for what your life is set to be like. You’re the first born son--named after the Conqueror himself.” 

Of course little Aegon had no clue what she was saying. To him the only concern was when he would eat, sleep, and have his nappy changed. Still, he gazed up at her as though he was taking in every word. 

Helaena came a year later, with Aemond not long after. As she did with Aegon’s birth, Daerra was present in the Queen’s chamber. Offering support and watching the babes while she rested following the endless hours of labors. Though her and Alicent’s relationship was rather hot and cold, there was a mutual respect. Especially when it came to the children which the Queen greatly appreciated. There were times where Daerra was the only person who could calm them when they fussed. 

“You’d be a great mother, Daerra,” Alicent exhaled, waiting for the sleep to take her while watching Aemond in the woman’s arms. “You’re a natural with him. With all of them.” Still in her youth, the young Queen wondered why Daerra never seeked to marry or have children. After Daemon left for the StepStones a lot had changed for Daerra. 

Though she still had her reputation. 

Daerra only smiled, not taking her eyes on the baby boy, “Everyone’s destiny is different, my Queen. I don’t think mine was to birth the next generation of Targaryen’s. But I do think I was meant to help raise them.” 

Lastly a few years later, came the arrival of the last child of the King and Queen. A boy named Daeron. Who the King, with the surprise approval of his wife, named in honor of his cousin. 

“Gentle, Aemond,” Daerra brushed away a hair from his face and tucked behind his ear. Kneeling down on the ground so she was eye level with the toddlers, Daerra held a sleeping Daeron in her arms. Six-year-old Aegon had a toy dragon in his hand, while five-year-old Helaena sucked on her thumb. Aemond, the curious three-year-old, kept leaning over her arm to get a look at his baby brother. 

“Tiny,” his finger came down on the babe’s head, lilac eyes peering up at the woman in awe. Daerra beamed, a bright smile on her lips. 

“Yes, my darling, he’s a tiny thing. Like you were many moons ago,” a giggle left the boy’s mouth upon her poke to his stomach. Helaena leaned onto her shoulder, lightly tracing the leather and texture of Daerra’s outfit. Aegon himself found entertainment twirling the chains attached to her cloak.

“How come all our eyes are purple and yours are green, aunt?” 

Daerra felt warmth at the title, like it always did when the children referred to her as such. That they viewed her more as an aunt than a distant cousin. 

“Well, my father was a Lannister and said to have bright green eyes,” she explained to the boy.

“Like Cannibal!” Aemond exclaimed, causing Daerra to gently hush him and carefully adjust Daeron who made a sound at the movement. Daerra cooed at him before looking back at Aemond. He’d always been so fascinated by the Dragons in his young age. Especially Cannibal after learning of his reputation. Begging Daerra to one day take him with her flying. She also had a tradition of taking the royal babes to the Dragon, much to the horror of Alicent and Otto, presenting the beast with the new generation of their house. 

Daerra chuckled, petting the top of Aemond’s head, “Inside voice, little dragon.” He mumbled an apology. Daerra bopped his nose, “but yes, Cannibal and I have matching eyes. That’s why some say he chose me as his rider.” She turned back to Aegon, “Sometimes certain traits are stronger than others. My father’s mother was a Targaryen, but he inherited his father’s green eyes. You all took on after your father, his grace the King. The spitting image of the blood of Old Valyria.”

“But what about Jace?” 

Daerra felt her heart stop, eyes widening a bit at the sudden question by her surrogate nephew. As the years passed with many unions blooming and children born to the royal family, Rhaenyra’s marriage to Laenor Velaryon produced their first son. Jacaerys. Born only a few moons prior to which Viserys ordered the babes share a wet nurse, following rising tensions between the houses in hopes to restore the strained relationship between Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra. The former donning to wear only the color green, representing her house calling their bannerman to war. 

An act that had Daerra nearly tapping back into her destructive nature by driving her dagger straight through her heart. She resisted…..with a lot of hard work.  

Like most in the Keep, Daerra knew the boy had been sired from the honorable Ser Harwin Strong. Sharing his dark brown hair, eyes, and similar nose. Opposite of the traditional Valyrian features such as silver hair and lilac eyes. A kind man and dutiful knight, Daerra saw the behavior her cousin and her sworn protector shared when they thought no one was looking. 

Rhaenyra was currently carrying her second child, and rumors of the potential paternity of Jace and his unborn sibling were spread. Making Daerra’s brows narrow in question. 

Gently tugging the boy closer after confirming they were the only ones in the nursery, Daerra whispered, “What is this you speak of, sweetling?” Young and naive to the concern in her tone, Aegon continued to fiddle with her chains. 

“He doesn’t have hair like us. I heard mother shouting at the maid that Jace is a ba-ba-bast,” he couldn’t get the word out, and Daerra immediately stopped him with a soft hand on his cheek. 

“Jace is your nephew. Your older sister's son,” she told him sternly but also soothing as one would to a child. “You boys will grow up with each other--and there is nothing stronger in the Seven Kingdoms than the bond between kin. You mustn’t utter these words again, sweetling. Regardless of whom you hear them from.” 

Aegon only nodded, saying something along the lines of, “I won’t,” but Daerra already feared what was to come for the future of her family. Alicent already showed disdain for her Rhaenyra after her father Otto was released as Hand. Now with her voicing the questionable parentage of the Princess’ son, there was little to no hope of reconciliation. 

The rumors only got worse with the arrival of a second son, Lucerys. A spitting image of his older brother. Like Alicent’s children, Daerra was close to Rhaenyra’s sons. Making her often feel in the middle of the feud between the two. Thankfully when it came to the children, both were respectful and grateful for Daerra’s assistance. 

“Come here, my dreamer,” Helaena grasped Daerra’s outstretched hand, not clutching Luke to her chest, to help the princess step out of the carriage. The Lady turned to the knights, “You are to remain here. We’ll only be a moment.” The man’s face consorted to worry, eyes peering into the woods where he swore he heard the rumble of the beast lying ahead.

“My Lady, the Queen and Princess ordered that you must be in sight with the young prince and princess. You’re not to be alone with them and your dragon--for precaution as you can understand.” 

Having dealt with this a number of times already, Daerra’s face stayed neutral, “I appreciate your concern, and honor of maintaining order, good Ser. But you must know my Cannibal does not take kindly to strangers.” Her tone went cold, as did her eyes sending a shudder up the man’s spine. He visibly paled. “He will see you as food. So,” her head tilted in defiance, “do you still wish to join us? Or will you be smart and do as you’re told.”

“I-I-I shall await your return, my Lady,” he nodded, wishing nothing more than to wipe the sweat from his head. Or throw up from the anxiety he felt. 

Daerra smirked, nodding back and holding Helaena’s hand while cradling Luke in her other arm. Guiding the girl through the woods until they reached Cannibal’s nest. Once in front of the clearing, Daerra bows, “Rytsas, uēpa raquiros.” Hello old friend. 

A low rumble filled their ears, followed by the rustling of leaves. The clearing between the trees filling as Cannibal shook the twigs from his back, wildfire eyes focusing on the group. Daerra heard him sniff, letting go of Helaena’s hand to approach. The girl stayed put, gaze glued on the dragon with awe. She’d never seen him up close before, the only time Helaena had made his acquaintance was when Daerra presented her to him as a babe. Then when Daeron and Jace were born, she took Aegon with her. 

Daerra approached with caution. Glancing down at Lucerys while she untucked the blanket to show his face. 

“Nyke’ve maghatan ao nykeā irudy. Nykeā Targārien naejot kustikagon īlva ānogar. Rhaenagon prince Lucerys, tresy hen Rhaenrya se ser Laenor Velaryon.” I’ve brought you a gift. A Targaryen to strengthen our blood. Meet Prince Lucerys, son of Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor Velaryon. 

Cannibal leaned down, bringing his snout level with Daerra, who gently extended her arms. Holding Lucerys out as though she was offering him up to the dragon, making Helaena gasp lightly. Slight fear at what might happen despite finding the sight mesmerizing. 

Emerald eyes met wildfire. Dragon and his rider. Daerra kept her stare as Cannibal’s snout came only a mere inches from the babe. Feeling the heat radiate off him, the fire seeping through his veins. Cannibal sniffed again, Lucerys moving in Daerra’s hands though she kept a grip on him while never taking her eyes off her dragon. Watching him smell his Targaryen blood, the blood of Old Valyria. 

A sound of approval left Cannibal, his body raising to his true height. A stunning sight for anyone who dared graced the wild dragon with their presence. It made Daerra smirk, bringing Lucerys back to her chest when he began whimpering. She cooed softly, stepping back to where Helaena stood. Crouching down, Daerra said, “The dreams you have are not mere illusions or fantasies, Helaena. It is a rare thing for a Targaryen to dream the way you do--but it is in our blood. They are a window into the future--or what the future may bring. I know it’s hard for you to explain when they happen, but you must not be frightened. For you are a dragon,” the girl met her gaze, a mini Rhaenyra staring back at her. “And a dragon does not bow down to fear.”

Alicent’s distant nature for her children was observed early on. As well as the neglectfulness of his Grace the King. So it came as no surprise to servants and guards in the Keep when the children of the King and Queen often sought council and companionship from Lady Daerra and Ser Criston Cole. The two hardly acknowledged each other, only when the time called for it. She disliked his insults of Rhaenyra, and he despised her closeness to the Princess and her sons. 

But when it came to Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond, the two were a force to be reckoned with. Daeron had been sent to Oldtown once he learned to walk. A decision that put a small hole in Daerra’s heart, for she felt she lost a son, although the decision was a wise one. Alicent continued to drive hate into her children while Daerra fought to prevent it. And having Daeron away meant he had a chance to not sour like the rest of the Hightowers in the Keep. Helaena remained a sweet girl. The only solace as Aegon began drowning himself in wine and Aemond grew restless at not having a dragon. 

Like today as a matter of fact. 

Daerra made her way to Rhaenyra’s apartments, passing Laenor and the boys as he escorted them to the Dragonpit. “Aunt Daerra!” Jace bounded to her, excitement coating his entire being. “We’ve got a brother! His name is Joffrey.” 

“So I’ve heard,” she ruffles his hair, then leans down to scoop up Luke who had latched to her leg. “Are you excited to be a big brother, my prince? You’re not the youngest anymore and have to step up to the role Jace has had.” He nods frantically. Ready to prove himself to his family. 

“I can’t wait to go dragon riding with him,” he smiles but then pouts, “but that won’t be till Arrax gets bigger and his egg hatches.” Daerra lightly pinches his cheek, making him squeal.

“Fair not, little dragon, the time will come. Until then--,” she sets him down, bidding a nod to Laenor who returned a nod in respect. Silently thanking her for all the times she was there for the boys and not audibly questioning their lineage. “You gotta grow your bond with Arrax. And we shall pray to the Gods they bless Joffrey with his dragon. Now, I shall leave you to it. I have a new nephew to meet.”

With a kiss to each of their heads, the woman departs as they wave goodbye, continuing on until she reaches Rhaenyra’s chamber. The Whitecloak nods, moving to open the door and announces her arrival, “The Lady Daerra Targaryen, Princess.” 

“Thank you, Ser.” Rhaenyra sits up, grinning up at her cousin, who exchanges courtesies with Harwin. “Good morrow, cousin.” 

“Good morrow it is, my Princess,” Daerra clasps her hands behind her back. Slowly walking forward until she’s directly in front of the woman. Noting the evident exhaustion in her face. “My congratulations to you and Ser Leanor on the healthy birth of another son.” Her head gestures to the babe, cradled in the knight’s arms. “I hear his name is Joffrey.” At her silent reaction, Rhaenyra softly chuckles, giving a knowing look. 

“Laenor chose it. I believe it is a name dear to him--I recall him wanting to name Jace, and then Luke, it when they were born,” her smile was small, lingering with sadness at the memory of Laenor’s lover that’d been killed the night of their wedding. Knowing it was the reason behind the name. “But his father had a hand in naming the boys. Making sure their names were fit for Velaryons.” Daerra didn’t miss the way her cousin’s eyes flickered to Harwin. Or how he looked up from the babe to meet the Princess’ gaze.

Clearing her throat, the woman once again turned her attention to the babe. “Well they are certainly happy to be older brothers. Already planning to take him and their dragons out for their first flight.” Together they all shared a laugh. Daerra made the motion to Joffrey, “Might I?”

“Of course,” Harwin passed the babe, carefully placing her into her arms and lingering when he believed she had him settled. Daerra stayed silent, not wishing to make him uncomfortable by commenting how she'd held all the royal children as babes. 

Harwin took his leave, bowing to Rhaenyra and Daerra as he did so. Leaving the two women and Joffrey alone. That’s when Rhaenyra finally let out the breath she’d been holding, closing her eyes to soothe the tiredness consuming her. Daerra sat on the opposite chair, shaking head with a frown. 

“I’d hoped the maids were speaking nonsense when I heard what took place after the birth.” Daerra took in her cousin, taking her eyes off Joffrey, who fell into a soundless sleep. Rhaenyra opened her eyes, the small smile turning into a frown. 

“I fear it will continue, so long as I produce heirs.” 

Daerra sighed, face consorted with concern. “I admit I have some sympathies toward the Queen for her situation. Only a girl herself when she married your father and had the children. Still,” her face turned strained, indicating she was not defending Alicent. “That does not excuse her behavior toward you. And your boys.”

Rhaenyra looked down, muttering a ‘thank you’ to which the woman simply nodded. They stayed that way for a few minutes, Daerra requesting permission to take the babe to meet Cannibal after the two had rested. Once received, Daerra handed the Joffrey to the maid, gave a comforting squeeze to Rhaenyra’s shoulder, and left the Princess. 

As she migrated through the halls, she heard sniffles in a nearby room, the one belonging to Aemond. Once again the guard acknowledged her with a nod, moving to allow her to pass. 

Her heart broke at the sight of Aemond sitting on his bed, head tucked between his knees. Dust and soot covering his usually clean silver hair and green attire. An indicator he’d been in the Dragonpit. Alone, in an attempt to claim his mount he desperately wanted. After the many years of teasing from his brother and nephews.

Who only did it when Daerra wasn’t present. Fearing her wrath as she did not tolerate bullying in her presence. The one time they did it left them all crying. Mostly out of embarrassment and shame at disappointing her. 

His soft cries echoing in the silent room, until her footsteps entered as she strolled up to him. Daerra takes the spot on the bed beside him. “Aemond.”

“I do not wish for a lecture, Aunt Daerra,” he rubbed his nose, turning the other way to shy away his reddened eyes. He knew she already figured out his adventure in the pit. “Mother already gave me one.” 

“I’m not here to lecture. I’m here to ask if you’re alright.” 

Aemond turned back to face her, eyes glossy with tears and bottom lip beginning to quiver, “They gave me a pig.” Daerra tilted her head, confused at the statement.

“A pig?”

A tear escaped as he nodded, Daerra wiping it away with her thumb. “Aegon. Him, Jace, and Luke told me they had a dragon for me to claim. That it was finally my time to join them as riders.” His head frantically shook, leaning onto her side to which she opened her arm to embrace him. “But-but really it was a pig they dressed up and called it the pink dread.” 

Daerra listened silently, comforting the boy as he began to cry once more. Her fingers raked through his silver locks, as a mother would her child. A gesture he loved, considering his mother hardly showed affection. Unlike his older half-sister did with her children. 

“Why don’t we take a walk?” she suggested, pulling away from Aemond to stand. She held out her hand, “There’s something I want to show you.” Putting himself together, Aemond hopped off the bed and took her hand, letting Daerra lead him out of his room. They reached Rhaenyra’s chamber, where the lady told him to wait while she went inside. A moment later, she returned with Joffrey in her arms. 

“What are you doing?” Aemond’s eyes widened, standing on his tippy toes to see his nephew. Noting the babe was still asleep. 

Daerra smirked, “It’s been some time since a Targaryen babe has been born. Lucerys being the last,” she began to walk, Aemond trailing behind her with an eager pace. “And I’m not one to stray from tradition. Cannibal will be pleased to meet the newest member of the family.” Immediately Aemond lit up. Realizing what Daerra was referring to. 

It was his turn to join her as she introduced a Targaryen baby to her dragon. He’d been four when Luke was born, and Helaena was who she brought with her. Which had Aemond pouting as he wanted to go but Daerra refused. Now he was getting his chance. 

The first stop was to see his mother. Alicent’s already dampened mood increased when the two arrived at the Kings’ chambers. Alicent saw Joffrey and instantly knew what was about to be asked. 

“Is this really necessary, Lady Daerra?” she argued, trying to ignore the pleading eyes Aemond was giving her. Focusing only on Daerra, who did not break under her stare. “The babe was born mere hours ago. And I’m sure the Princess--.”

“Already gave her consent,” Daerra interrupted, keeping her expression neutral. 

From the side, Viserys let out a pained groan, catching their attention. “Let the boy go with her Alicent. All the children have met Cannibal when they were born, and Daerra has proven he will not do harm. Both Aegon and Helaena have joined her with the births of their brother and nephews. Aemond shall go with her to introduce Joffrey.” 

Alicent attempted to put up another argument, but with a 3v1 against her, she ultimately relented. Ordering that a guard must be present at all times and they are to return before the hour is up.

“Of course, your Grace,” Daerra bowed. “We shall make haste so that Aemond is not late to the training yard.” 

“You will be joining them, yes?” Alicent had a tight smile. She had mixed feelings of Daerra assisting Criston Cole and Harwin Strong in training the boys. For one, she admired the woman for being able to do things most women were frowned upon doing. She too, found herself mesmerized as a young girl watching Daerra train with Daemon Targaryen. She was a beauty to behold with her whip and sword. 

But Alicent also resented Daerra for it. Mostly due to envy she spent more time with her sons than she did. 

And that they preferred her company. 

Daerra’s chuckle brought her out of her thoughts, “Someone has to put these princes in line. They forget themselves when a Lady is not present.” Both women drew their gaze to Aemond, the residue of the dragonpit still on him. Pink tinged his cheeks as he looked away. 

“As I agree,” Alicent’s jaw tightened, but she quickly masked her disdain with a tight smile. Shaking her head while looking back at Daerra, “Very well. I shall leave you then.”

Daerra curtsied again, “Your Grace,” then she turned to Viserys. “My King.”

“Thank you, mother,” Aemond bowed, before doing the same to his father. Both wearing small smiles, though only Viserys’ reached his eyes. 

When they finally reached Cannibal’s nest, Aemond was buzzing with nerves and excitement. Heart pounding against his chest. For it would be the first time being so close to his beloved Aunt’s dragon. A moment he’d been waiting years for. 

He remembered Daerra telling him many moons prior that she brought him as a baby to the beast, where the dragon spit his wild green fire into the sky in celebration of the birth of a Targaryen prince. Then Aemond often watched from the Godswood as Daerra flew him around Kings Landing. His shiny black scales bouncing off the sun’s rays. Shouts of the small folk reacting to his massive form. Aemond was always in awe. 

Sitting down on the grass after Daerra presented Cannibal with Joffrey, they watched him find a comfortable spot in his nest to return to his nap. Daerra beamed at the sight, switching Joffrey in her arms when they started to ache. 

“I know you wish nothing more than to claim your dragon, Aemond. I too was upset with each nameday passing and not having one,” Peering down, Daerra saw the way his face shifted to sadness. “I was the age Jace is now when Cannibal chose me.” 

“He chose you?” He repeated, now displaying confusion. 

Daerra raised a brow, “To believe we have the power to control a dragon is a myth. They are who really chose us. It is why when you attempt to claim one, you must accept death as an answer.” Aemond processed her words, fiddling with his fingers that were clasped in his lap. 

“So I have to wait for a dragon to deem me worthy.” The dejection in voice pulled at her heartstrings. His shoulders dropped in defeat. 

Taking his hand in hers not holding Joffrey, Daerra signed and stroked his knuckles. “What your brother and nephews did was cruel. And I’m sorry you had to endure that, Aemond. But remember this, my darling,” Tucking her finger under his chin, she pulled his gaze to hers. Green eyes meeting lilac, “You are a Targaryen. Made of fire and blood, whose ancestors conquered Westeros with the dragons we hold dear to our house. Your time will come. And when the opportunity presents itself, you will know.” Her eyes turn serious, filling Aemond with hope. “And the dragon will choose you.”

Disaster struck an hour later. One that no one, even Daerra, could have anticipated. When Criston Cole decided to instigate a spar between Jace and Aegon. Leading him to antagonize Harwin Strong. 

It all started when all four boys took turns switching off against the four dummies. But not before they were lectured by the woman on their mistreatment of Aemond that morning. All their heads bowed, not able to face her which brought a bit of joy to the prince. Once finished, they took their spots in the yard. Daerra stood on one side while Cole took the other. Observing the four closely as they met their targets. The knight was not pleased or offered technique advice whenever Jace and Luke were by him. Whereas Daerra was equal. Pointing out mistakes for each boy. 

When they switched off again, Jace bumped shoulders with Aemond. An action he did on purpose which received a scolding look from Daerra. She didn’t say anything, her face alone brought a blush to Jace’s cheeks. The boy mumbled a ‘sorry’, embarrassed to have been caught and looking away to not meet her eyes. Daerra moved closer to him, right next to the dummy. 

“This is practice, not the battlefield. I expect better from you.” The red on his cheeks got brighter, nodding his head in silent promise to not do it again. Once satisfied, Daerra commanded. “Feet light, Jace.” Bringing his wooden sword up, he struck the dummy one, two, three times before pivoting on to attack from behind. A sound of approval left her, “Good.” 

Briefly lifting her focus, she caught her cousin and his Hand, Ser Lyonel Strong watching the scene below from the top of the Keep. Surrounded by his Kingsguard. The king raised a hand to wave, a smile on his face and pleased to see his sons and grandsons training together. He received a firm nod from his cousin before turning to speak with Lyonel. 

When she returned her attention to Jace, he had stuck his sword in the dummy, only for it to be smacked down by Aemond. 

“Don’t stand too upright, My Prince,” Cole lectured, tone laced with mocking. “You’ll get knocked down.” The glare from Daerra was ignored, moving his attention to Aegon, who got distracted by passing servants. 

Daerra’s disproving eyes went to Aemond, now facing the dummy Jace had left. “I understand what transpired this morning has made you upset. But to add fire will only make it worse. You are better than that, Aemond.” 

His brows narrowed, “It’s not fair. Everyone tells me to deal with it--why should I? Why does no one--apart from you--say anything!” he whisperer-shouted the last sentence, not wanting to draw attention to them. Daerra didn’t blame Aemond for his outburst. After years of teasing it was bound to take a toll. And part of her blamed his parents lack of involvement for letting it slide for so long. 

“Your anger is justified,” she affirmed, leaning down to lower her voice so only he could hear. “And judgment will come when the Gods deem it so. For now, display your frustration on the dummies. Not your kin. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, Aunt Daerra,” came his mumble. Daerra straightened up when she heard Cole suggest a challenge between him against Aemond and Aegon. Her brows furrowed in suspicion, but made no move to stop the knight. Instead she backed up to stand between Jace and Luke. 

Their spar lasted roughly thirty seconds. Both Targaryen’s put their best efforts to disarm Cole. But the knight was faster. 

“Ah,” the sound of Harwin Strong came from her right. Daerra stiffening when the boys turned to him. Which did not go unnoticed by Cole. “Weapons up, boys. Give your enemies no quarter.”

“Thank you for your input, Ser Harwin,” Daerra gave a curt nod. Motioning for the two to approach the dummies, and much to her displeasure, Harwin turned to address Cole. 

“It seems the younger boys could do better with a bit of your attention, Ser Criston.” 

Daerra cursed under her breath, panning to Cole who did not take lightly to the Lord Commander's words. 

“Do you question my method of instructions, Ser? Or that of the Lady Daerra?”

“Ser Criston,” Daerra warned, then sent a look to Harwin. Pleading to not say anything. Of course, it went to no avail.

“I merely suggest that method be applied to all your pupils.” It didn’t help that Aegon shoved little Luke to the side, the boy bumping into Daerra who had to stop him from hitting the ground.

“Aegon.”

Cole’s animosity breached his expression, “Very well.” Harwin’s face changed as the knight stunted forward. Daerra tensing where she stood. “Jacaerys,” his hand reached out and yanked the boy. “You spar with Aegon.” The silver-hair boys laughed as Cole dragged Jace to the other side. “Eldest son against eldest son.”

Daerra voiced disapproval, “Mayhaps we should continue as we were, Ser Criston.” 

Harwin appeared to agree, “It’s hardly a fair match.” Aegon patted Jace’s back as he passed him. An eager smile painted his lips while the younger became nervous. 

“I know you’ve never seen true battle, ser, but when steel is drawn a fair match isn’t something anyone should expect.”

Daerra hated that Cole had a point. When battle came there was no such thing as fairness. But still, this was training for the young princes. Not a duel between steel. 

She could intervene. Harwin and Jace’s faces were filled with worry. Silently pleading for her to reprimand Cole. Daerra knew better though. This was his element and had all the power. She was only to supervise and offer assistance when needed. But she did say one thing, voice stern as she looked all three--Cole, Jace, and Aegon--in the eyes, “Keep it clean. No blood or this ends as quick as it starts.” 

Cole tightened his lips, “Well said, my Lady.” Their glares on each other lingered, Cole breaking it first when he motioned at the boys. “Blades up.” They awaited the command. “Engage.” 

Aegon charged with a cry, Jace using all his might to counter his attacks. He was brought to the ground with a shove, sword still in his hands. The older boy laughed menacingly, retaking his spot in front of Cole. The smirk, however, left his lips when he caught Daerra’s cold stare. Then Jace came running at him with a shout. 

“Ahhhhh!”

They danced across the yard, the spar pausing when Aegon tried to push a dummy onto Jace. Resulting in Harwin to step in, “Foul play!”

“I’ll deal with him,” Cole announced, both men stepping toward their respected princes. Daerra stiffened, peering up to see her cousin looking awfully confused. The rigid posture of his Lord Hand was a telling sign they too felt unease.

“You!” Aegon yelled, startling Jace who quickly met his oncoming attack. 

“Close with him,” Cole ordered, all three adults following behind the boys. Daerra pointing at Aemond and Luke to stay put. “Push him backward!”

“Light feet, Jacaerys!” Daerra matched Cole’s tone. The brunette boy’s face painted red and stumbling with each step. Aegon was relentless, coming at him like a wild animal. 

“Use your feet!” A harsh kick met Jace’s armored chest, plowing him down. “Don’t let him get up!” Aegon brought the sword down, Jace barely able to counter. He was losing his breath, running out of energy. 

Harwin was losing his patience. As was Daerra, “Ser Criston, that is enough--.”

“Stay on the attack!” 

Aegon raised his sword, ready to charge it onto the already weakened Jace, but was stopped when Harwin grabbed it and pulled him away. “Enough!” With a single movement, Aegon was spun around and thrown to the side. 

“You dare put your hands on me!?”

Daerra cut in front of the heated prince as he hastily pushed up from the ground to challenge Harwin. “Calm down, now.” Her pointed finger while free hand hovering over her whip was enough to draw him back. His offensive stance shrinking down, mumbling curses more out of annoyance. 

“Aegon!” the King shouted, mirroring his cousin’s tone. Finding his son to be overdramatic by his choice of words. 

“You forget yourself, Strong, that is the prince,” Cole snarled. 

“This is what you teach, Cole?” came the response. Harwin picked up the disposed swords, spitting “Cruelty. To the weaker opponent.”

“Your interest in the Princes’ training is quite unusual, Commander. Most men would only have that kind of devotion toward a cousin.” 

Oh no.

Harwin stilled, picking up the last sword as Cole turned to face him with a cunning smirk. Daerra narrowed her eyes. Not blind to his indirect accusation, but vexed he would openly announce it in the yard. In front of onlookers. In front of the boys.

“Or a brother.” 

Harwin stood, Daerra unable to see his face to tell what he was thinking. Instinctively she motioned for Jace and Luke to get behind her. While throwing pointed gazes at Aemond and Aegon who were watching with amused expression. 

“Ser Criston, mind your tongue.”

Her warning was left to the wind. Cole let out the final blow, “Or a son.” Faster than they could blink, the Commander of the Night’s watch spun, fist raised to impact Cole’s cheek. Sending him sprawling to the ground as he landed another one. Straddling his chest to continue unleashing deadly hits causing Cole’s face to bleed in various areas. 

It came to an end when the man they called Breakbones was yanked off of Cole by the power of Daerra’s whip. The leather wrapping itself around his neck, the woman jerking it with all her might, letting out a cry until Harwin fell to the ground. A sight that shocked her nephews, all standing wide eyed with their mouths agape. 

They didn’t call her the Daring for nothing.

That was when the Whitecloaks seized him, taking four of them to drag the knight away from Cole. “Say it again!” He seethed, spit flying from his mouth. “Say it again!” Daerra marched up to Cole, surprising him with her strength as she hauled him to his feet. Dizziness filling his vision.

“How dare you speak freely and make that suggestion in front of them,” By her tone, Cole feared he was about to get a second beating. “Go to the maester, you fucking imbecile,” she didn’t care if he was concussed, thrusting him in the opposite direction, making him stumble. And seeing he was in no mood to argue, Cole obeyed, heading to the maester and left Daerra to clean up his mess. 

Turning to where Harwin struggled in the arms of the guards, she bit the inside of her cheek. “Release him.” Once unhanded, Daerra stepped up to the knight, voice low. “Commander, I do not fault you for the rage you just displayed, but It is disappointing you let yourself go so easily--allowing the Princes to be exposed.” Sharply inhaling, she drew her gaze around the yard, displeased to find most in hushed conversation. Not hiding the way they watched the two and eyed the boys. 

Daerra motioned to where his father stood, pale face with fear at what this meant for his house. “You are dismissed.” Turning on her heel, she picked up the discarded swords and threw them onto the rack. “That is it for today,” she called to the boys, who stood like lost sheep waiting to be herded. Jace more so than the others, holding back tears as he was old enough to understand the implication Cole had revealed. “To your chambers--or wherever your Lady mothers need you. Go.” 

To say everything changed that day would be an understatement. Harwin was relieved of his position, and ordered to return to Harrenhal, leaving the boys heartbroken. Daerra, exhausted from the events of the day, found herself using the hours before dusk to ride Cannibal. Sensing her distress, the dragon flew for miles, passing Driftmark and circling Dragonstone. 

Caressing the scales of her beloved friend, Daerra succumbed to her thoughts. Letting her anxiety and fears come to the surface instead of masking them. The only witness being the dragon who’d never judge her. Only share her feelings. 

“Nyke gīmigon, issa raquiros, nyke gīmigon.” She stroked Cannibal’s rough scales. I know, my friend, I know. A grumble filled her ears, Daerra’s slightly curled up then dropped to a frown. “Nyke feel ziry tolī.” 

I feel it too.

[comikadraws]

Sasuke and the Final Battle

Alright! So personally, I dislike the conclusion that Sasuke's character got in canon. Here's why!

I am putting in pluses between panels to ensure nobody thinks those panels belong together.

The premise of the battle is as follows: Sasuke, motivated by the loss of his family, comes up with a plan to rectify the injustice he experienced which involves killing Naruto - not just because it promises him the power he seeks but also because he wants to cut that bond. It's a direct parallel to the first VotE fight.

Now, I still think Sasuke deserved better and I am very sorry to all Sasuke fans, but we need to get this one out of the way first.

While Sasuke's plans in the first VotE fight made a lot of sense, here, in the second fight, they are downright insane. He essentially plans to take over the world, become a dictator, and maintain his rule in neverending loneliness by becoming immortal. It doesn't need a genius to see that this should probably be considered tyrannical and self-destructive. And yes, he absolutely needed someone to knock some sense into him. But please keep in mind that the degree of Sasuke's insanity is a deliberate choice of the writer. A plot device for picking sides.

And it also makes a lot of sense for Konoha to be wary of him. Outside of this fight, he switched sides like five times. That's not something that would make you look particularly trustworthy or reliable.

It makes sense for Sasuke to feel guilty for his actions. He tried to kill his friends and comrades on multiple occasions. That's not something anybody would feel proud of.

But now, here are the issues I have with this battle and its conclusion:

Sasuke's core motivation is being glossed over

There's a huge bias going on in favor of Konoha and Naruto

Sasuke's sudden change of heart is abrupt and inconsistent with his character

The conclusion of Sasuke's character only exists in theory

Core Motivation

Sasuke's core motivation is the injustice experienced by the victims of the Uchiha massacre. His pain, loneliness, or even his wish for change are merely symptomatic, yet they are the only motivations ever acknowledged throughout the battle - even by Sasuke himself.

Problem is, Naruto needs to physically and ideologically defeat Sasuke - preferably without looking like the bad guy for shutting down a victim's cry for change and justice. But that only works by erasing and not ever talking about the corruption of the system. As a consequence of removing Sasuke's motivation and justification, he ends up looking insane to the reader.

But defeating Sasuke and reducing his motivation to insanity like that, not acknowledging and condemning the injustice that motivates him, can only come at the cost of his depth, authenticity, and readability as a character.

The Konoha Bias

This also makes Kishimoto seem incredibly biased when it comes to Konoha. The crimes the village has committed, be it genocide, slavery, or child abuse, usually merely fulfill the purpose of "sad backstories" rather than being given the time and dignity to be properly identified, criticized, and rectified in the story. Injustice is allowed to be a character motivation or a flavor in the story, but it is not allowed to be a theme. That is no different here. Sasuke's traumas (though not their origin) are used to inform his actions but not shown as the result of the depravity of the system.

Aside from this linking back to Sasuke's character being deprived of his ideological value in the story (due to being a victim of the system and demanding change), this lack of attention and awareness toward the injustice reads like propaganda from an irl perspective. These are some of the most contemptworthy acts in existence we are talking about. And yet Konoha gets away unscathed.

Meanwhile, Sasuke, who is seemingly the only person demanding change, is intentionally characterized as "crazy", inevitably invalidating him and his desire for change. It basically reads as "yes, this system is rotten but everybody wanting to change it is evil". Change becomes evil by association. It's disheartening, demoralizing, and disappointing.

The Change of Heart

Now let's take a look at how his character actually progresses during this battle.

Sasuke wants to change the world even if that means killing Naruto or being lonely

Sasuke re-evaluates his relationship with Naruto

Sasuke realizes he no longer wants to kill Naruto or be lonely even if that means the world never changes

Now. Rethinking his self-destructive approach is, without question, a positive change. But that is not the problem here.

The problem is that this change in his character occurs rather unprompted. Sasuke, the entirety of the story, has ignored his own suffering in favor of justice. He has ignored every single character crying over him or telling him that they don't want him to ruin or endanger himself. But then Naruto basically says "it hurts to watch you suffer" and Sasuke suddenly rethinks his entire ideology. Naruto is basically only treating one of Sasuke's symptoms but not their origin.

This is unrealistic for his character and hurts his coherence (as well a invalidating him). It is a forced plot convenience to avoid any sort of compromise between Naruto and Sasuke. Both because Naruto has to come out on top due to genre conventions and also because Konoha cannot be questioned.

Missing Conclusion

Furthermore, this results in Sasuke's arc never coming to an actual "conclusion". As a victim, he should have been given justice. As someone who was supposedly suffering under his loneliness, he should have been given companionship. As a villain, somebody should have pointed out his hypocrisy and the wrongs he has committed.

None of that happened. Sasuke is not given justice and is even incarcerated in the most undignified and dehumanizing fashion possible in the anime. Afterward, he takes off alone. So in the end, even the "power of friendship" resolution that Kishimoto attempted to write only occurred on a surface level and failed in its execution. Sasuke is not changed because he realizes he is a hypocrite and doing more harm than good but because of a plot convenience. Sasuke internalized none of what he supposedly learned and practically had no conclusion whatsoever. He is still suffering. Nothing has changed.

The Point

And at this point, I'm just wondering "what was the point?". Clearly, the point of Sasuke's character wasn't to explore the darkness of the shinobi system. And it wasn't to seek justice for the horrors it has committed. It also wasn't about helping Sasuke heal from any of the hardships he's endured.

The point was, unfortunately, to be Naruto's trophy. Naruto is the main character, therefore he must remain ideologically unchallenged and perfect, he must have the strongest jutsu arsenal and he must have the most unwavering determination. Even if that means bending the other characters to the plot's needs. Sasuke is, thanks to genre conventions, not allowed to be right and Naruto cannot be wrong. A compromise or any justice at all become impossible.

[elioslover]

Preview: Grapejuice Part Four!

Premise: Harry has been pining over Y/n - his best friends slightly older sister - for as long as he can remember. But she still refuses to see him as anything other than her brothers goofy obnoxious bestie. This chapter is when the filth kicks!! - Em. xo

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST

Grapejuice masterpost / Other writing

🍷

You are no longer willing to suffering behind your sunglasses, the sun sizzling down on your already hot skin, you feel like a roast on the spit, pathetically begging for Harry to take a hearty bite.

His face is masked by a denim baseball cap, one arm flexed behind his head like a pillow, and you wonder if he’s asleep at this point, using that as the push you needed to get up and cross over to his sunbed.

Bending down and leaning your body over his own, your bikini-clad breast brushing against his chest as you reach across him for a book-you couldn’t even recall the title of- resting next to his half empty lemonade on the side table.

“You’re kidding.” Harry informatively mumbles through the material.

“What?” You feign innocence, pressing further into him, your waist coming down on his stomach.

“You know exactly what you’re doing.” He continues, but lets you continue with your teasing.

“Getting my book?” You innocently ponder, taking much longer than necessary, letting your fingers dance along the cover, tapping along and further sticking his and your your skin together.

Harry removes his flexed arm from its position as a pillow, using his thumb to hook under and remove the cap from hiding his face.

He looks at you with a stern furrow of the brows, but his eyes are nothing but amused- and slightly turned on,

“You’re a little liar.”

With ease, Harry wraps his arms around your waist, giving you a good squeeze as he flips you over, causing you to snatch a hold of the novel just as you find yourself bent and folded over his lap, ass up in the air, your chest resting against his thighs,

“What the-” You try.

Now Harry has you, and you feel silly for thinking you could have ever gotten away with being so reckless, banking on the falseness of his lack of interest in your presence. He had lured you right in- leaving you laying across him, completely at his will.

Not that you would want to be anywhere else- you can’t help the embarrassment stirring at your stomach, ringing in your ears, you hope Harry doesn’t notice, and it seems he is far more focused on the sultriness of your arched back, your bikini bottoms becoming a frame for the ass cheeks that he quickly deems an artwork.

His fingers glide along the curve of your spine, satisfied with the shiver that shakes your body beneath his touch,

“You’re a naughty one, aren’t you?” He notes, letting his hands continue to trail along your curves.

He ponders for a moment, watching for each reaction you might let slip, hyper-focused on your shaky breaths, the rise and fall of your breasts against his legs. He needs more though- needs to hear you,

“I think it’s time you’re punished for all of this brattiness.”

“I’m not a brat.” You huff defensively for no reason but to protect your pride, still stuck and at his will.

“But you act like one.” He tuts factually, his hands gliding along your lower back before his palms finally settling on your ass cheeks, giving you the softest of pats.

“That’s the same-”

Harry refuses to let you finish, his tone dripping with discipline, his hands squeezing at your skin to ensure to cut you off and keep you focused on his filthy intentions,

“Keep reading that book.”  He has you hooked like an unknowing fish, baiting you with the promise of leaving little red marks along your pillowing bum cheeks, “Since you found it so, so important…”

Your lip’s part with the desire of protest, letting the book loosen in your hand, waiting on it to finally part from your palms. But Harry is watching like a hawk- waiting for you to misbehave once more, knowing you far too well. Still, you rally all of the defiance you have to spare,

“I-”

“Read the book, Y/n.”

[thequiver]

Who is.....Jonothan Starsmore | Chamber? - A Reading Guide

Jonothan "Jono" Starsmore is an X-Men affiliated mutant from Marvel comics first introduced in 1994. A native of London and explicitly connected to the grunge scene, Jono has always been the pinnacle of the "bad boy with a heart of gold" trope- the only difference being that in place of a heart he has a furnace of psionic energy. Jono is best known for being part of Generation X (the team he was introduced with) but has also been an official member of the X-Men. The manifestation of his powers left him disfigured and destroyed many of his internal organs as well as his jaw, leaving him unable to speak verbally, requiring him to utilize his psionic abilities to communicate telepathically. Jono's story chronicles one of self-acceptance and is one I'd highly recommend!

Below is a complete list of Jono's appearances as of 24. November. 2023, complete with links!

Generation X: A new team of mutants under the leadership of Sean Cassidy (Banshee) and Emma Frost (The White Queen) is formed at the Massachusetts campus of the Xavier Institute. The goal of this team is to earn an education and learn how to become the next generation of X-Men- their focus is not to fight villains.

Generation X (1994) #1-3 X-Men (1991) #41 <- This is part of Legion Quest which is expounded on here in my Legion reading guide - the whole event is covered in like 6 issues and is imo very worth the read as one section of it can be a bit confusing out of context Generation X (1994) #4-6 Wolverine (1988) #94 Uncanny X-Men (1981) #Annual '95 Generation X (1994) #7-9, Annual '95, 10-11 X-Men (1991) #49 Generation X (1994) #12-21 X-Men (1991) #Annual '96 Generation X (1994) #22-23, Annual '97 Incredible Hulk #Annual '97 Generation X (1994) #25-31 Marvel Team-Up (1997) #1 Generation X (1994) #32-40, Underground Special 1998, 41 X-Men Unlimited (1993) #20 Generation X (1994) #42-49 Generation X/Dracula #Annual '89 Generation X Holiday Special (1999) #1 Generation X (1994) #50 X-Man (1995) #50 Generation X (1994) #51 X-Men Unlimited (1993) #23 Generation X (1994) #52-56 Wolverine (1988) #141 Generation X (1994) #57-58, Annual '99, 59 New Warriors (1999) #5 Generation X (1994) #60-70 Uncanny X-Men (1981) #388 Generation X (1994) #71-75

Poptopia, a Delayed Joining of the X-Men, his own mini, etc.: Following graduation from the Massachussetts Academy, Jono was offered a position on the X-Men but declined instead going to London. After an unfortunate romantic entanglement Jono would return to the X-Men.

Unanny X-Men (1981) #395-398 The Order (2002) #5-6 Uncanny X-Men (1981) #399-400, Annual 2001, 402-407 Marvel Universe: The End (2003) #1, 5 Uncanny X-Men (1981) #408-409 Chamber (2002) #1-4 Uncanny X-Men (1981) #422-423

Defections + Countdown to Zero and House of M/M-Day: After altering reality so mutants were the dominant race, the Scarlet Witch then changed reality again, this time attempting to rid the world of the mutant gene, by casting another spell, "No More Mutants", de-powering the vast majority of mutants.

Weapon X (2002) #15-21 Generation M (2006) #1 New Excalibur (2006) #9

Secret Invasion: TW: THIS EVENT IS TIED PRETTY HEAVILY INTO ANTISEMITIC TROPES PROCEED WITH CAUTION The premise of Secret Invasion is that the Skrull empire, in a bid to take control of earth, replaces several super-powered humans/humanoids on earth with Skrulls.

New Warriors (2007) #2-20

Age of X: The mutants are almost extinct, tortured by a strike force led by Colonel Graydon Creed. The first signs of the Age of X appeared in X-Men: Legacy #244; the events were removed from the Earth-616 mainstream continuity, with no memories of the alternate lives. If you've taken a look at my David Haller Reading List you'll see this event explained as "David’s desire to be loved forces him to grapple with reality," and as a story that "places David in a role where he has to choose between a false universe where he is considered a beloved hero and reality where he must choose to be a hero despite the fear others feel about him." While that is the base of the event Jono also has some great moments to shine!

Age of X: Alpha (2011) #1 X-Men: Legacy (2008) #245 New Mutants (2009) #22 X-Men: Legacy (2008) #247 New Mutants (2009) #24 X-Men: Legacy (2008) #248 Wolverine and the X-Men (2011) #Alpha and Omega X-Men: Legacy (2008) #264-265

Avengers vs. X-Men: When the Phoenix Force approaches Earth, Hope Summers is assumed its next host. The X-Men and the Avengers are divided on how to handle the situation. The X-Men believe that the Phoenix Force will herald the rebirth of the Mutant Species, while the Avengers believe that it will bring an end to all life on Earth. This leads to a war between Marvel's two powerful superhero factions.

Wolverine and the X-Men (2011) #9-10 X-Men: Legacy (2008) #266-267

Jono's Miscellaneous Adventures: (which somehow keep involving David Haller?) This is now in with Legion: Son of X and the lead up to Krakoa! Jono does a lot of different things in this period (including Gen X Vol. 2) but things are a little more calm until War of the Realms.

Wolverine and the X-Men (2011) #19 X-Men: Legacy (2013) #2-6 X-Men (2010) #40-41 X-Men: Legacy (2013) #11-12 Wolverine and the X-Men (2011) #29 X-Men: Legacy (2013) #13-14, 22, 24 X-Men: No More Humans (2014) #1 Nightcrawler (2014) #3-4 Uncanny X-Men (2013) #600 Generation X (2017) #1-9 Phoenix Resurrection the Return of Jean Grey #1-3 Generation X (2017) #85-87 X-Men: Gold (2017) #30 Old Man Logan (2016) #39 Mr. & Mrs. X (2018) #6 Uncanny X-Men (2018) #11, 14-15, 17-18 Unbeatable Squirrel Girl (2015) #37

War of the Realms: Following the return of the Dark Elf, Malekith, from imprisonment, he ignited a civil war in his homeworld of Svartalfheim and emerged crowned as king. Malekith additionally began assembling a league of allies from across the Ten Realms, eventually forming the Dark Council which included among its ranks Dario Agger, King Laufey and Loki. If this doesn't sound like an X-Men plot that's because it's not, but the X-Men sure did get a tie-in and Jono's in it.

War of the Realms: Uncanny X-Men (2019) #1-3

Krakoa at last!: The following issues detail Jono's time on Krakoa and his role on the island.

New Mutants (2019) #1-2, 5, 7, 9-11 X of Swords: Destruction (2020) #1 New Mutants (2019) #15-18 Marvel's Voices: Identity (2021) - B Story X-Men Unlimited Infinity Comic (2021) #1, 3-4 Phoenix Song: Echo (2021) #1 New Mutants (2019) #24 Legion of X (2022) #1 X-Men Unlimited Infinity Comic (2021) #39-40 New Mutants (2019) #26 Legion of X (2022) #3-5, 7-8 X-Men: Unlimited Infinity Comic (2021) #79 X-Men: Before the Fall- Sons of X (2023) #1

[misswonderfrojustice]

So since my last post of making writing prompts on certain video games, characters, etc. and I haven't gotten any asks, I'll just go ahead and make one of my own.

This is an idea I had regarding the Miguel O'Hara character from Marvel's Across the Spiderverse [Spicyverse] movie franchise.

{I have never seen any Spider-Man movie at ALL in my life, so I know little to nothing about the whole premise of the world's plotline besides an Uncle Benjamin dying, being bitten by a radioactive spider [shouldn't you be horrifically deformed or dead after being exposed to ANY sort of chemical radioactive agents???] and so on so forth. I am an avid researcher on anything out of the ordinary or historical events/eras, so of course I read into the biographies of the series. So, now knowing about the protagonists and villans (and me being the sympathetically strong and sweet alien 👽 I am inside) I propose this scheme.]

Gabriella the Chocodoodle Lab Puppy

Apparently, sweet little Gabby is killed in the movie due to Miguel's interference of the Multi-Verse as a punishment for his transgressions, and he is now in charge of becoming the self-proclaimed only Guardian of the Spiderverse.

Well...

I'm giving him some grace here. Instead of him buckled down in over his work in his cave he calls an office, constantly hovering over each and every universe and it's inhabitants, he comes across a lone box sitting in one world [I guess I'll call it Earth 1231] and it was right across from his apartment complex where he is staying at. In this universe, the Miguel variant does not exist, and neither does the mother of Gabriella.

However, Gabriella is still alive but not visible to his observation and not noticed anywhere else but in this part of the city of Nueva York. Suddenly, the box starts eagerly shifting and moving, bumping into the doorway of said apartment complex like it wanted to enter the building. Curiosity gets the better of him, causing Miguel to open up a warp portal to Earth 1231 just to see what was inside the item.

He arrives at the building and walks closer to the box, which seems to be in a colorful pattern of cobalt blue and vintage infra red polka-dots, matching the typical Spider-Man costume theme. There are many holes perforated around the walls. Air holes, mind you. Miguel bends down slowly to the box's level, quickly jumping back when he hears what sounds like a young girl's voice echo inside his head.

"Papí?! It's me Papí?! Gabi!!"

Immediately, he ponders on where this instant pop-up of memories' past is located from, thinking his sanity is starting to decay quicker than he believes it to be, until the voice of Gabi repeats itself again, but gets even louder the closer he gets to the box. Throwing caution to the wind, he removes the lid, only to discover a gorgeous little chocolate Labradoodle puppy that wasn't even six weeks old staring back at him wagging her tail happily.

"Hòla Papí!!! It's me, Gabriella! Can you take me home please??? I'm hungry and it's really cold outside."

Gabriella's loving barks translate into his language inside his head. Now, Miggy Iggy has never been one for pets, especially after his baby girl's passing (it would serve as a painful reminder of his failure on not protecting his loved ones), but for some reason, he felt an intensive surge of parental desire to take Little Gabby home into his universe. Consequences be damned.

My version of the Multi-Verse would be him getting re-gifted a second chance at having his family again, without any future foreboding consequences or negative effects on the Multi-Verse's entirety. Gabriella was reincarnated as a puppy and aged at the same year she had died the first time of his Earth, where his variant was murdered by a mugging gone wrong, and Gabriella was alive. She only ages as accorded to Miguel's age, but never growing any larger than what she is now.

Starseed Baby rules, I'm sorry.

I'm thinking of making a short story about this later on, but hey, it's my idea.

Here's an image of what I believe Little Gabby should look like located below:

Let me know what y'all think!

[deepspacedukat]

Accomplice

Okay, hear me out. I've been listening to the audiobook version of "Butcher & Blackbird" by Brynne Weaver (a romcom about 2 serial killers), and this idea just popped into my head. This is definitely a watered down version of that premise, and so NOT A ROMCOM, but given that my writer's block has been pretty severe lately, I'll take a win where I can. So...enjoy? I guess? This is dark, so be warned.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Chu'lak (ST:DS9) x Vulcan!Reader

[A/N: This is smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Vulcan/Vulcan sex, Vulcan/Vulcan romance, serial killers, mentions of blood, spoilers for DS9 S7E13 "Field of Fire," mentions of murder, evil being mentally justified as logical, THIS IS DARK.

~*~

Even as he removed the targeting display Chu'lak knew that she understood. They were the only Vulcan survivors. They were the only ones who could carry out this task.

The elimination of emotion by any means necessary.

They would purge the entire station if they had to. They would make the galaxy understand.

She knelt on the meditation mat in their shared quarters and watched as he stowed the display and the TR-116 rifle in their proper places. Her patience was finely-honed after years of dealing with those disgusting, emotional beings.

The ones whose populations they would cull together.

Rising obediently to her feet as he'd ordered her to do after each kill, she slipped the traditional robes from her shoulders, allowing them to pool at her feet as she bared herself for his appraisal.

Even this was logical. They were slaking a thirst - a natural impulse that occurred after each time they snuffed a minuscule fraction of emotion from the universe. The rush of adrenaline was an ancient thing, a holdover from the savage days before Surak brought their people logic. Solving the problem as quickly as it popped up was something she excelled at.

Chu'lak had no doubt that he looked as savage as their ancestors had back in the dark days before logic lifted them from the blood-soaked sands of their planet. He stalked toward her slowly, steadily, as his blood rushed in his veins, hot and filled with desires that required purging.

His large, callused fingers wrapped around her throat as he backed her up against a wall. Her pulse's rhythm sped up beneath his fingertips, and briefly, Chu'lak wondered how easy it would be to crush the life from her...wondered if he could handle seeing the life drain from her eyes as it had been extinguished from the rest of their crew at the Battle of Ricktor Prime.

But he would never do that to her. She was necessary, not only for his plan, but for...himself. For his logic. There was no emotion involved. There would never be - could never be - but he would allow himself the necessity of a companion.

Even as her nimble digits unfastened his uniform trousers and he stepped between her legs with his lok bouncing hard and free between them, Chu'lak dismissed this as nothing more than what logic dictated. The warmth between her legs...the slick dripping slowly down her inner thighs was no more than her body's entirely logical preparation to serve his needs after such exertion.

As he hilted himself in her welcoming depths, he dismissed the strangled sound that escaped him as a completely logical reaction to the physical sensation. He could not tear his lust from his body without fucking her. He could not fuck her without feeling her. He could not feel her without reacting...

And he could not acknowledge the wet sounds accompanying each rough thrust without closing his eyes and seeing the splatter of deep, wine-red blood expelled from his latest victim's body before they collapsed in a lifeless heap on the floor.

A low, dangerous snarl spilled from his lips as he pounded relentlessly into his partner, and she tilted her head to the side just as she knew he preferred. Baring the scar that he'd left on her soft skin with his sharp teeth, she made herself vulnerable to him again - the prey submitting to the predator, admitting freely that her life was his.

The smirk crossed Chu'lak's lips before he could even begin to think of stopping it. He was too far gone. He was lost in his lust and his primal instincts. That's what these were - instincts, not emotions. The taste of her blood on his tongue as he bit down was as sweet and metallic as it always was.

She yelped so beautifully below him - beauty was aesthetic, not emotional - that he couldn't help but shift his grip to her hips. He lifted her easily off the ground, pressing her back harder against the wall as her arms and legs wrapped securely around him.

Her fingernails, while practical and blunt, still bit into his back hard enough to pierce the skin and draw some of his own green life from beneath his skin. Their exchange of savagery made all of this worth it. The planning, the meticulous care that went into the selection of a victim, and the execution of each plan...it was extra exertion outside of their duties, but they did it together. They split the load.

Then she took his load.

There was never any protest. She never questioned his needs. She never would, because she understood.

He remembered the way it started, and mentally he praised her logical reaction to seeing the bulge in his uniform for the first time. The Lieutenant had melded with her afterward, and her reasoning became clear:

He'd proven himself strong, meticulous, clever, resourceful...and his endowment had allayed any sort of doubt she may have had about his worthiness as a sexual partner.

Even as his climax overcame him and he filled her with his seed, she gasped his name and thanked him for allowing her to be of use.

So dutiful. So accepting. She didn't protest when, for the first time, he lifted her from the wall and carried her to his bed without pulling out. He required more than one release tonight.

She would give it to him. She would give him as much as he desired.

Because it was logical.

Because she understood. She was the only one who could.

Next time, he'd give her the rifle...place the targeting display on her head while he donned the secondary one. Next time, he'd wrap his arms around her and feel her blood begin to thrum as she experienced the rush that now consumed him so fully.

Next time, he'd bare his neck for her and allow her to bite him...to taste his blood for the first time.

Because it was logical.

~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes @emilie786 @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

[walking-tornado]

Chobits is an asexual fantasy and yall feel weird because a show has never catered so hardcore to demiromantic asexuals until Chobits.

I highly recommend reading it to watching the anime. The anime deviates quite a bit from the manga and cuts a lot of important details from the last arc. Spoilers ahead for the end of the show, i will get into basically everything soooo be warned.

Feel free to fight me in the comments, i love discussions :>

At its core Chobits is a romance between a human cishet man- Hideki- and a female asexual Robot/Persocom -Chi-. Its a slow burn romance, where Hideki is given time to observe the complex relationships around him, before coming to a decision, while Chi has more of an introspective journey of finding out what she wants outside of her programming.

Chobits explores quite a number of themes and ideas about romance and the nature of sapience:

The most glaring is the idea of Human/Persocom relationships and romances. Is a Persocom with complex enough programing sapient? Is it enough that the human observer believes their Persocom is sentient for it to be? When a Persocom consents, does it really?

We see people become obsessed with their Persocom who can do anything ,without question, to the point where they neglect their spouses. At the same time we see people who are wholeheartedly in love with their Persocom, and who endure the societal pressure to seek human companionship. We see characters who create a Persocom duplicate of their deceased loved one, and their emotional struggle.

We are shown the effects of the sociatal pressure on women to rise up to the beauty and "perfection " standards that these dolls bring to the table.

Okay okay buuuut wait WalkingTornado, isnt this that one anime where her power button is down THERE?!?!

Yes, thats the one. Its treated as a comedic hook in the first chapter because Hideki has zero experience and background information and we see the world though his extremely naive eyes.

After learning from those around him about the nature of a romantic relationship with a Persocom, he is hit with the magnitude of that perticular design choice. Chi has no innate desire for sex, and should she have sex, her fundamental personality will be deleted and changed forever.

And Hideki, accepts to enter a purely romantic relationship with Chi, and consents to not have sex with her ever, despite being allosexual.

He doesnt ask if they can move/remove the button, he doesnt ask if he can possibly have oral, he doesnt ask if he can date someone on the side, he doesnt ask her to sacrifice her being for his sexual benefit.

He accepts her as she is and respects the now completely asexual nature of their relationship.

Now onto the negatives: The asexual being a robot is nothing new, but is it problematic? Maybe, but considering that so much media has trouble accepting an Asexual as not a broken/ill/hasnt met the right person/traumatised/low libido/nun who has to get over themselves and just have sex like the rest of us, Chobits with it unusual premise, does a good job of portraying an asexual romantic relationship using an unconventional premise.

I pray for a future, where asexual representation in media gets to a point where we can look back and snicker that hehe they thought we were all robots. But till then, i will defend Chobits as my go to Asexual media to my dying day.

[bdrixhaettc]

Avatar prompt/headcanon

Just had a thought...

What if Spider intentionally fell, to be captured by the Recoms, and then spent the time at the RDA scoping out as much as he could about their operations and capabilities while pretending to be the reluctant captive.

And when he is reunited with the Sully’s he’s like, ‘What’s up, here are the deets’. And Jake is all “You did good, son. Just like we discussed.”

*****

The premise, of course, is that Jake was a lot more active in Spider’s upbringing than in canon, even if Neytiri was still all about ‘out-of-sight-out-of-mind’. He acknowledged and honoured Spider’s desire to be as navi as possible, and that included the notion of the navis’ that once they turn 14 and pass their rite of passage, that they are active contributors to the clan. Spider might not have been able to do the same rite of passage as Neteyam, but Jake gave him something similar and as far as he is concerned Spider, at 16, is a warrior of the People.  

When the humans came back and the Omatikaya was back at war with the RDA, Jake complained bitterly about the fact that they were flying blind for the most part. Spider overheard and is the one that approached Jake with the idea. A ‘just in case’ scenario. 

Jake is the one that talked Spider through what it would or could look like if it were to happen, but Jake wasn’t about to risk Spider unnecessarily, no matter how much the intel is needed. They hatched a plan for ‘just-in-case’, together and in secret. The months leading up to Spider’s ‘capture’ was filled with additional clandestine training as neither Jake or Spider had any doubts about the risks. Spider getting to “be with his own kind” was no guarantee of a good time when those humans were RDA humans. 

The plan included the Sully’s family’s removal from the forrest to give Spider time and room to work which is why Jake was so mercenary when getting his family to relocate to the point it looked like he didn’t care they were abandoning Spider. When he tries to comfort Kiri and tells her that Spider is a though kid, he means it, because he made sure of it, and also because Spider kept blowing his expectations out of the water. These two love Pandora in the same way, Jake might be Navi now but his heart still beats the same way for the moon and the People that cause human Jake to turn his back on his on kind. What this mean is that Jake understands Spider in a way nobody else can, which is why he doesn’t underestimate what Spider is willing to do to protect their home.

Quaritch showing up tossed a spanner in the works but it doesn’t actually negate the plan. When Spider ‘saves’ him, if he even does in this AU, Jake is a lot more willing to hear him out because he knows this kid, and Spider would have had a reason. 

[oopsalltes]

WHAT THE HELL EVEN ARE BOMBERMEN? (AN IN-DEPTH REIMAGINE AU LOOK INTO BOMBERMAN ANATOMY)

ridiculously long text dump incoming but i figured i'd finally go over some more technical stuff about the au. ive seen other people talk about their headcanons for how the bombermen work in-game and got a bit inspired since ive mostly been going over lore with my comics!

SO, WHAT ARE BOMBERMEN? true to most of the games, they are still robots in the au! entirely mechanical with no organic components. the vast majority of them originate from the former planet earth, now called planet bomber, but some models have been integrated into different planets (planet scrapheap for example) for specific jobs.

all bombermen come from "the original", Shiro, who was built by evil forces lurking underground on planet earth before it was renamed planet bomber. during his tenure as a reluctant minion of evil, his purpose was to create bombs for their efforts of subjugating the remnants of humanity on earth.

prior to his escape from the clutches of the evil forces, he looked very much like how he is depicted in the games!

WHY DO THEY LOOK LIKE HUMANS NOW? in the original NES bomberman game, the plot revolves around bomberman's escape to the surface under the belief that he will become human. the AU follows this premise, but more literally: although Shiro doesn't actually become an organic human, he is rebuilt to resemble their appearance more faithfully! thus, all bombermen that come after him retain that human-like appearance.

this applies to the human experience as well. they can cry, taste food, live like humans even though they are artificial. they're aware of the fact that they aren't human, mind, but the line is very thin for some! Shiro goes so far as to say that he's just as human as any organic one because of his free will and his ability TO desire to be human. but most are pretty normal about it.

BASIC ANATOMY STRUCTURE bombermen possess an internal structure intentionally designed similar to that of humans. their endoskeleton is practically 1:1 of a human skeleton, the only difference being that it's obviously metal. they possess significantly less "organs", with most of their computer components centralized in a single case located where a human heart would be. their central processing unit and memory cards are located inside of the skull, reinforced by pure steel to prevent any potential internalized damage. while ripping off the outer layer of skin takes about as much effort as it would to a human, you'll be hard-pressed to actually penetrate their head/skull. pain receptors are probably the most complex and delicate in terms of structure, essentially microscopic detectors found across the body like nerves. the part of the processing unit that recognizes the feeling of pain can be manually turned off if needed, but is usually left on so that the individual is aware of damage or something malfunctioning.

all bombermen have an antenna attached to their left ear. this is used for communication with others across distance, and is also used to monitor their surroundings! it can pick up movement, energy, and other various things. it's one of their trademark identifiers, and can also be used as a sort of ID for other bombermen, so its very important to them! to remove their atenna is like declawing a cat.

don't.

like most computers, their capability of information storage is limited. although usually equipped with multiple memory cards, many bombermen elect to move data/memories they don't need all of the time onto items like USB drives so they don't need to outright delete things. their sleeping routines are the most effective way for them to undergo defragmentation.

with resources on earth having been very scarce, bombermen are equipped to run on multiple kinds of energy. like most computers, electrical energy is the most common and widely used, but their synthetic skin is capable of taking in solar energy and a furnace "stomach" can transform eaten foods into chemical energy - think of the latter as burning coal to fuel a locomotive. the one thing they DON'T use however is oil. its seen as very volatile source of energy because it's not renewable. this means they don't bleed! there's no need for them to have any liquid circulation, so replacing parts is also easier in that regard since there's no fear of losing any potential lifeforce.

ASIMOV? WHO'S THAT?? they do not follow the three laws. they are completely independent. most bombermen lean towards being good-natured (if not with their own quirks), so murder of organics/destruction of their own kind is HIGHLY taboo. this doesn't mean they're incapable of making that decision, though.

WHO BUILDS THEM? this answer is a little more complex. early in the timeline, the only way to make a bomberman was to build one yourself. this was especially apparent during earth's final years before being renamed, as most of humanity had abandoned the planet after the evil forces were reawakened decades prior. as such, bombermen were short in number because the few remaining humans that were technologically competent were the only ones capable of making them.

however, ALL bombermen are capable of recreating their own kind. this was information originally given to Shiro by the evil forces so that, for whatever reason, it would be instinct for him to prevent the extinction of his own existence. when more bombermen began to populate the planet, they started to do the creation themselves since they knew everything they needed in order to accomplish it. this is where familial relationships become possible! many bombermen who create their own kind view their creation as siblings or children, and this carries over further into the timeline even when a mother computer meant to mass produce models comes into existence.

WHAT'S IN A TITLE? "Bomberman" is both a species and a title. while most common bots will refer to themselves as "a bomberman", very few have the privilege of being called Bomberman. this name is reserved for particularly outstanding individuals who are responsible for the protection of planet bomber, meaning only a few of them exist across the timeline.

so far these include Shiro (the original), Ivory (Shiro's brother and the protagonist for most of the games that take place on Planet Bomber), and White (the sbr iteration - his siblings get privileges by association but since he's the only cracker white bomberman of the group he gets the official title). depending on how development of the timeline goes there might be more...

WHAT THE HELL ARE PSEUDO BOMBERMEN? I actually addressed this question on my twitter with a funny little comic but i'll go a little further in-depth with the discussion here.

as the name implies, these aren't considered to be "real" ones for various kinds of reasons. bombermen become very popular to imitate due to how (in)famous Shiro becomes across space, but building a robot might not exactly be conventional for some people. this is where pseudo bombermen come in. anything from bomber-cyborgs, organically made bombermen, etc are all considered pseudo bombermen. the general rule of thumb is if it isn't a robot, it's a pseudo.

notable pseudo-bombers would be Max (cyborg), Shirobon from Jetters (alien), and the Bomber Shittenou (made from elements).

ARE YOU GOING TO ADDRESS THAT LINE FROM YELLOW IN SBR2 sure they can have cock and balls why not. full human experience or something.

well that was long as fuck!! thanks for reading!!! if there are any questions feel free to leave them in my inbox and ill be sure to respond to them :)

[trashendence]

#mitchell the antithesis of Buck's sperm donation...

this is a fairly recent hyperfixation of mine, one i’m very passionate about and that i hope makes sense.

so. a central point made in 5x06 is that mitchell doesn’t want nolan to know it’s his heart he is receiving. he wants his son to stay as far away from his life and memory as possible because nolan is a good kid and he deserves better than falling into the same patterns his father fell into. having mitchell’s dna and heart is somehow not enough to “contaminate” nolan, his choices, his future. but knowing could. knowing could drag him down with mitchell, bridge the years they spent apart in the worst of ways. and, really, this is the antithesis of why connor chose buck. connor chose buck because he is a good person who cares about others and he hopes his future kid can be a good person too, despite not having any - or very limited - direct contact with buck himself. buck’s dna somehow eases connor’s worries, makes him hope in a bright life, a good future, a biological legacy that shapes who his kid will be. but - and here’s the catch - what if buck subconsciously follows mitchell’s reasoning, instead? what if him wanting children is a dream tainted by the fear of contaminating them with what he perceives as his countless failures and his inability to be loved by someone who can simply choose not to? what if he’s mitchell and he’s giving a part of himself while trying to avoid giving all of himself? seeing himself as a sum of separate parts, once again. and still, it’s the very reason he was chosen.

and there is so much of eddie in everything here; eddie who is actively asked to be the keeper of mitchell’s secret while buck does not plan on telling him about his (at least not on purpose). it’s so fascinating that both secrets are just waiting to be revealed - nolan can literally read about the mayhem on the day of his transplant outside his hospital, about who caused it, and do simple math; connor’s child will probably know from their parents when they’re old enough; 2 seconds spent eavesdropping and buck’s secret is out too-. so is the act of donating life in semi-secret more about the fathers seeking redemption (from a cycle of absent parents they both suffered from, from other regrets) than it is about the secrecy itself?

(a redemption that, especially in buck’s case, not only asks him to remove himself from the happiness he desires in order for it to exist, but to pay even more so that someone else can be happy instead.)

@sorryalecwho’s majestic brain pointed out mitchell’s “me dying and him living maybe makes the world a better place” and called it the Evan Buckley Thesis in relation to daniel, the people he helps, eddie….eddie who’s the one to correct mitchell and ask him: “you think that’s a feel-good ending for him?” which- i’m still staring into the void thinking about that, thanks alec. trusting eddie to do the right thing for nolan was the last thing mitchell did and, under a layer of jokes about jerking off, buck thought eddie would’ve done the “right thing” for him too: trying to stop him. that, he got wrong because he didn’t factor in the importance eddie gives to choice, but buck’s premises were valid: eddie sympathizing with mitchell as a dad cannot work here because buck is not acting as a dad, he’s acting as a wounded son - and eddie will always protect the wounded son.

oh boy did i keep talking.

[maleyanderecafe]

Did you make a post for Parasite in Love? I'd definitely say Niall is a delusional yandere, and there's partial voice acting >:3c

I have played See Thru: Need A Friend and I wrote a recommendation on it so you will probably see that tomorrow. Since I got two asks for Parasite in Love, I'll just merge them together to answer it. It seems to be pretty popular lately, I see it pop up now and then.

The premise of Parasite in Love is about a parasite that infects a girl named Marlowe and her trying to survive it. After taking a dive into a freshwater lake while in a cabin, Marlowe gets infected by a parasite. This parasite seems to have gained some sentience, manifesting himself to Marlow as a humanoid being named Niall. Niall takes on the persona of being a husband, feeding on Marlow's desire to have her own family, all while slowly killing her. There are about four endings, of which there is only one where Marlowe survives.

If Marlowe feeds into the idea that Niall is a husband, she will pretend to be okay with him, all while Niall makes her weaker and weaker. Niall presents her their "children" and tries to take care of her, having her eat so she can regain strength and removing any additional pain/nausea that Marlowe might feel. In the end, Marlowe is too sick to move, and Niall promises that the two will be happy in death together.

If Marlowe rejects Niall, she will push him away, being generally rude to him as he is the one who is killing her. Niall seems begrudgingly unhappy with this situation, but for the most part doesn't make it worse for her, at least until the point where he snaps. Getting Niall angry results in Marlowe's condition worsening because of the pain, causing Niall to cry out in disbelief and what he's done before the two once again die together.

For Marlowe to survive, she tricks Niall into making him and their children return to the lake. She shows that Niall doesn't know how to be a father, citing her own father protecting her to prove to him, saying that a father is someone who is willing to sacrifice for their children, and that if she dies, their children will die as well. She proposes that Niall and their children return into the lake, promising that when she regains strength again, she will return so they can be inside her again. Niall agrees to this and after successfully Marlowe is able to finally be free of her parasite. If she is too weak, she drowns, with Niall crying once again at her fate.

For a game jam created game, Parasite in Love is both wonderful in conception and in general aesthetics. The artwork is very pretty with the great touch of having the UI and Marlowe's surroundings being slowly deteriorated as she grows weaker. Niall as a design is also very well made, looking humanoid while also alienlike, as he is drawing from one of Marlowe's memories of her crush while still retaining his parasite nature. I also do like how they do the saves and each day passing, feeling like we're looking under a microscope.

Marlowe is a very good protagonist. We learn early on that she has a hard time connecting with other people, or rather wants to be able to connect with them closer, and having a cute relationship with her father as well, something that she emphasizes on doing after the ending where she survives. She wishes to have a family, which is what Niall feeds on when she gets infected. Throughout the routes, she is always trying to find a way to stay alive, and even when she fails, she is keenly aware of what Niall seems to be able to do like being able to read her mind or his general attachment to her. I think the way she was able to manipulate her in the ending that she survives in was also very clever, using Niall's love for her and their family to get rid of them. Makes you wonder what would happen if Marlowe ever returns into the water. I was surprised that she actually did have a voice to some degree, but it was a nice surprise.

Niall is also pretty interesting as a concept. As a parasite, he's pulling on Marlowe's memories as a way to make himself more appealing to her despite the fact that he's killing her. It makes you wonder if he really does care about her or if it's a survival tactic to keep himself alive and to multiply. While he does seem to know that he is killing her to some extent, the way that he acts is very distant about it, attempting to make Marlowe eat despite the fact that he is the one that is actually killing her. He seems very genuinely upset if Marlowe attempts to push him away and is seemingly very sad when he leaves into the water. I always think that having yanderes that are not human are fascinating (things like parasites, aliens or machines) since it makes you wonder if they actually do feel love for the person or if it's another factor, whether it be something that's programmed into them, something that they're assimilated from the person they're infecting or are using to survive. I always find that those kinds of ideas are really fun to explore.

It does make you wonder if the other people who were infected by this parasite had similar experiences, like having them imitate a loved one. I wonder what would have happened if Marlowe didn't like kids and how Niall would have changed to accommodate that. How did the other four that supposedly survive manage to live and if this is an experience that is exclusive to Marlowe, could it happen again? And why did it happen? These are a lot of questions that the game makes me think about.

Overall, I do think its a very spooky and good game, from the graphics, concept and general story. It's a fun game to play for Halloween, so perhaps give it a try.

[nvrcmplt]

Arriving for no other than the herbalist himself there is a letter, handwritten with utmost precision;

"My most sincere greetings are offered to you, for I must say I enjoyed your latest encyclopedia on the local flora of Liyue and more specifically that of Chenyu Vale. As someone with ties to the valley, I felt my heart blossoming at all the familiar, albeit nostalgic, histories tied to their beautiful form..."

And there would be compliment after compliment written in the letter, the sender going on about how well composed it all was, asking whether or not the author did the illustration themselves, and then...

... a change of tone.

"...however, on page 231 you write that the Chenyu Chili Leaf only should be devoured after boiling, in which I must find it in me to correct you as boiling it will rid it of all its nutrients. What you must do is boil the water, not the leaves, and allow the leaves to steep in the water for a good 30 minutes before removing the leaf itself. Surely you can chew it, and it may leave you with a decent breath, but it is the water you want to drink.

A rookie mistake, I also did that in my early years of medicine, and therefore easily forgotten. Oh, how I look forward to your next book. I do enjoy your take on nature. Will do you one from Inazuma soon? I would quite love to go there, but a doctor is bound to his premises.

Best regards,

Baizhu"

The letter seems to be signed with an address below, if the author would find it in his spirits to offer a return letter.

With a returning pace to the inn's opening, he was dirt riddled and seen with nay a hair in place. Of course, the fuss from the matriarch of the building was all be laughed aside, jest and joy at his ventures instead on his tongue. A tale of a cliff edge, he didn't see before plummeting and that his injuries were superficial due to branches on the way down! A lifesaver, really! Still, he got what he had come for on that travel so he was beyond delighted at his results for the next start of his series.

However, upon returning to his room for the night, a bath well desired, he was given a heads-up upon a letter in his room. Delighted with wonder, the bath was left for now, as he instead climbed the steps well above the norm' amount, to settle before his room. Inside as clean and lavish as he deemed himself unworthy but wasn't beyond spoiling his wishes with, he moved quickly to the writing table with a bounce in gait.

Upon the table was very much a letter that smelt of a medicine shelf, a hint of whom the author was already in his mind as he eased himself to sit in place and pry the letter apart to unfold and begin absorbing. Immaculate it was, the ink was grounded perfectly without a blemish in its dried scripture, long details of praise and questions, but most of all! A correction! No - a common mistake! Even with a solution and hope for more in his series of this seasonal travel. Oh, how his heart was lifted - though a man of little desires, to be given such in-depth praise for his work was no less as a dog being patted for fetching the correct bone.

Oh, how his laughter bellowed from the treetops, mirth merry and the good feeling took his feet to his bath, readied for him by the workers here. The letter on his mind, he took his time to clean himself free of mud and rock dust. His hair brushed by skilled fingers and combs of pinewood. Soaking long with a silly smile upon his features and even taking in a tray of food before he dared reply to his dearest reader.

A full stomach and a burning candle wick - he sat once more at the writing desk. Re-reading as his hands went through the motion of grinding ink in his ink tray and picking out fresh papers with a brush soon to follow… Oh, how excited he was; but with force of any grand master with a brush; he settled his heart and body - allowing his mind to expand and his movements to flow.

[ My Dearest Reader, Baizhu…

The pleasures are all mine, to witness your devout readership means more to me than the sunsets of the western seas. I thank you with all my heart for the kind words, the true words of the Chenyu Chilli, for you are most right. I gave myself time to do as you suggested, and the effects were much, much more than what I had gathered for myself. I give no excuse, though time was not upon my side when I first discovered the beauty, I will take heed for my next trial. ]

His writing flowed like a waterfall, with flicks and connections of each stroke meaning more than just replying to a fan. It was a hard world to live in for some, the powers of one's medicine and study were lifelong - Chaoxuàn believed himself to be old and grey before he settles with enough knowledge gained from his travelling. Only stopping due to his old bones and time against his limited existence.

Still, he moved with ease, smiling upon his replies to queries pressed through him. How his original paintings were made with scented oils, to smell of the very object he prints through ink and paper, how he collects natural minerals, makes his own paints when he is stuck indoors from weathers wet and windy, how he collects brushes made for such talents but sometimes loses them on his travels thus makes do with his very own hair!

Still, the writings in return are all the same, as if writing to a long time friend, rather than just a stranger complimenting his works… that included, the small emblem of a tree branch, blossomed in pink and green leaves. The scented oils of sakura and green tea, marking the last of Chaoxuàn's name.

[ I will be travelling again soon, thus my dearest Baizhu - your future replies may be delayed in time, a months time tops. I aim to climb to the highest mountain I see here in Liyue. I hear of lakes filled with fish and flowers growing on the highest rock peaks, it calls my intrigue. Until a month's time, Baizhu. May your medicines heal the weak and weary, may your good tides bring great fortune!

Chaoxuàn ]

The papers were left to dry, a moment's wait as Chaoxuàn lowered his brush and smiled upon his work. Even daring to slide into the folded envelope some of the original pieces of scented paintings. A landscape as rough as the sand he inked. A flower of some unknown name but smelling of a spice common in foods here and another pale flower with deep green leaves. In the morning, it would be sent, as he packed his travelling bag and took his final breakfast from the hands of his maids and host with delightful cheer for the next stretch of his adventure.

[hazelcephalopod]

The Bear and Disbelief in the Self

So, I finished season 2 of The Bear and I loved it. Fantastic, messy, fucked up people trying so hard and failing a lot.

The show I think has been pretty clear about it’s premise, which again I argue is: fucked up people trying. The characters all arrive here from some sort of trauma. For most of The Bear’s staff it is at minimum a loss, their friend and boss committed suicide after struggling a lot with various issues -which he tried to shove down and not deal with. In Richie’s case he’s also dealing with a massive inferiority complex and something else we will get too. Sydney is trying to recover from her failure with her own restaurants and we’ll get to something else. Carmy is dealing with the aforementioned suicide, but in his case this was also his brother who he had a complicated relationship with, his mother and family life just being a really big mess, and the abuse from his former boss. All three are dealing with deep seated disbelief in themselves, they they are not capable or receiving or creating nice things.

We see Richie grappling with this all season explicitly, he feels like he will be left behind. And he doesn’t believe he can keep up. He lacks confidence, and only gains it when removed from his life and put in a place we’re he can see a path to success and is told he has to have respect. Respect for his work, respect for others, and most importantly respect for himself. I think that is finally got through to him and allowed him to begin turning over new leaf; which he had to choose to accept. Sydney, also lacks confidence in herself, at least deep down. Tbf, she’s young, she has a lot of ambition and puts a lot on herself to succeed. She’s learning to lean on others and work with them and hopefully we see more of that explored in a future season. She’s beginning to make those choices that will allow her to succeed.

Carmy however is deep into all of those issues. He desperately wants to succeed, and specifically he wants to succeed in the way he’s been led to believe he’s supposed to. Make the restaurant work, be the best at it, be with the right girl. Be who everyone expects him to be, but -imo- he’s not sure that’s actually what he wants. He just doesn’t know how to let himself have that though; deep down he doesn’t believe he even deserves happiness or love. He wants to be in control, but he’s so out of control that he can not have that control he so desires. Which I’d argue he desires because he's looking for something. He won’t let himself have happiness or love because that might mean giving up control, relying on someone else. And that’s hard for him. Because so many people he trusted, and loved, have failed him. He’s so used to the pain he doesn’t know how to exist without it. He hasn’t yet made the choice, and until he does he can’t succeed. He can’t find what he’s looking for.

[mattanaministry]

Mattana Ministry Welcomes You To:

Sunday Sermon: 18 August 2024

Theme: The Rust on Us

Music:

https://youtu.be/tiyVhBtAuy0

https://youtu.be/GuiIWGO3cbA

Scripture: 2 Cor.5:17; Rom.12:2; Col.3:10; Gen.4:7 & Jam.4:8

Message:

2 Cor.5:17

Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.

Rom.12:2

And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.

Col.3:10

And have put on the new man, which is renewed in knowledge after the image of him that created him:

Gen.4:7

If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door. And unto thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over him.

Jam.4:8

Draw nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to you. Cleanse your hands, ye sinners; and purify your hearts, ye double minded.

It's that time of year when everyone starts looking at their trellis, ironwork, and wood on their premises. We all cherish the hope of a good rainy season, and unfortunately the rain is not very gracious on the trellis, ironwork, and wood. Everything needs to be painted and treated; otherwise, there will be significant damage from it. The trellises and ironwork get rust, and if left untreated, then the rust will eat holes into the trellis and ironwork. The wood is sealed; otherwise, they will burst and rot.

We started this task a while back. On the surface, everything seems to be whole, and there is no damage to the trellis, ironwork, or wood. It is only when one takes a closer look that one can see that the rust has already begun to appear in places. The wood is beginning to show signs of having fine bursts in it and that the wood needs a treatment very urgently. It is actually an experience to watch the trellis, ironwork, and wood change and renew under the care of the brushes.

I know you're going to ask me now what on earth the treatment and painting of trellis, ironwork, and wood have to do with the message now. Let me explain:

We are the same as the trellis, ironwork, and wood. God created us with love and patience. God has plans for us, and we are exactly where we need to be (though it doesn't always feel that way). We are through the melting furnaces of life, and we've experienced twists and turns already; it's signed down our life path. God treated and painted us with love and care and made us new.

Unfortunately, life happens, and we have our habits that make us unique. We must work hard to maintain the new habits we started with when we accepted Jesus as our Savior. The enemy and sin peer around every corner, waiting for us to be weak. We go through life storms and the challenges of life. In places, the enemy takes hold of us, and slowly our bad habits creep back into our lives. The bad habits are like the rust on the trellis and ironwork. It only starts with one dot, but it spreads so quietly and before we notice it, there are holes in us.

But how can we prevent these bad habits like rust from taking over our lives again and wreaking silent havoc?

We need to examine ourselves daily and make sure that our bad habits don't regain traction in our lives. We must constantly read and learn the Word. We need to apply the Word in our daily lives. We need to have as many conversations as possible with God. We should strive to approach God every moment of the day. We must faithfully imitate Jesus' example. Under no circumstances should we allow the enemy to gain the upper hand. We must make sure that the "rust" on us is thoroughly treated and removed.

Prayer:

Father, thank you for allowing us to walk through this week with You. Lord, help us to examine ourselves and see what habits are taking us further from You and giving the enemy a place in our lives. Jesus helps us change our habits, however small they may be, and not to stand back for the bigger changes we need to make. Lord, please walk with us this week. Jesus, please help us to forgive as You forgive us. The Holy Spirit guides us to please resist the temptations and bad habits of life. Jesus guards our hearts and minds because You are in control of our lives. Father, please let Your Will be done in our lives. In Jesus Name, Amen