#he dies lonely and unhappy

[darabeatha]

 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒:ㅤJason .

[radiantmists]

i just finished the brief lives arc, and... ow

[serpentandlily]

We Should Stick Together - Azriel x Reader

We Should Stick Together - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel deals with the aftermath of losing his mate. (Part I)

Warnings: angst, death, self-harm

A/n: An epilogue of sorts to Birds of a Feather - Read HERE. Thanks for all your love!! 

• ───────────────── •

I want you to stay

'Til I'm in the grave

'Til I rot away, dead and buried

'Til I'm in the casket you carry

• ───────────────── •

It was dead silent in the Temple. Many fae had come today to pay their respect and to honor the female that died during the war with Koschei—the female that had bravely lured the Death God to his demise and had ultimately met her own in the end.

Azriel had watched the service from the shadows, consumed by his shame and grief. Grief over losing his mate, his best friend, and the chance at a long life with her. Shame from not being able to protect her, from not realizing the mating bond between the two of them until it was far too late and for those last few words he had spoken to her that had only pushed her further into a suicide mission. 

You just want me to continue being miserable. Because that’s always been why the two of us got along so well. Both lonely and so unhappy and now that I’m finally not, you want to drag me back down. Maybe one day someone will love you the way me and Elain love each other. But just because no one does right now, does not mean I have to give up my happiness to keep being miserable with you.

The words haunted him. 

She haunted him. 

Azriel had always been good at ruining his own life. But saying those words was single handedly the worst mistake he had ever made. He hadn't meant them. Of course he hadn't meant them. He loved Y/n. He had since the day he had met her. She was his closest friend—someone he had felt comfortable with. But he had been so blind...blinded by Mor and her vivacious personality...blinded by Elain and the sunshine she had brought to the Night Court. 

All along his mate had been right by his side. The one person he had been searching for all his years of living had been right in front of him and he hadn't even noticed. 

Azriel walked down the long aisle towards the casket that was displayed on the dais. His footsteps echoed in the now silent chamber—not even his own heart beat could be heard. No, his heart had stopped beating the second hers had. 

He fiddled with the flower in his hand, swallowing the tears and sadness that threatened to consume him. He owed her this. He wasn't going to run and hide himself in the shadows as he'd been doing the past week. He needed to be here today. 

Azriel finally stopped in front of the casket and choked on his own bile as the sweet, comforting scent of his mate reached his nose. This felt all too much like a nightmare—one he was stuck in with no way out. Cursed to repeat this day from beginning to end for the rest of his existence. 

She would never stop haunting him.

And he didn't want her to. 

If the ghost of her was the only thing left of his mate in this world, he would cling to it for the rest of his days. 

Azriel placed the spirit lily on top of the casket, the glowing silver petals matched the marble stone. He had searched day and night to find this flower. It was your spirit lily. The one that had bloomed when you died. 

"I'm so sorry," he cried, the tears finally falling. "I'm so sorry." 

He fell to his knees before the casket, one scarred hand sliding along the cold marble as he continued to repeat those words over and over and over again. 

"I am so sorry."

• ───────────────── •

If you go, I'm going too, 

'Cause it was always you, alright

And if I'm turning blue, please don't save me

Nothing left to lose without my baby

• ───────────────── •

Azriel's ears were ringing as he sat at the kitchen table in the cottage that Elain and he had purchased a few weeks before their wedding. It was the first time he had stepped inside since the war with Koschei. It was the first time he'd even been in the Night Court since the loss of his mate and best friend. 

"I understand that you need time to process this, Azriel, I really do," Elain pleaded with him. "But we made vows to each other the day we married. Vows that were supposed to transcend any mating bond." 

Azriel's shadows wailed from the corners of the room. They had started searching for Y/n the day she died and hadn't stopped their cries of panic since then.

It had been a month already.

A whole, entire month had passed by without you. 

And here he was—dark circles lining his eyes, stubble on his hollowed jaw and a song he'd never hear again playing on repeat in his mind. His mating song. His soul's song. His soul that was desperately crying out for its other half. 

"I can't do this, Elain," he spoke, voice hoarse from disuse. "I'm sorry." 

"That's it? That's all you have to say?" Elain questioned, crossing her arms and leaning on the kitchen counter. "Azriel, I rejected my own mate for you. I...I thought we were in this together. We talked about the day you might find your own and we agreed that you'd reject it too." 

"I know," Azriel whispered, his forlorn eyes stuck on the cracks on the floor. "But I didn't know what I was giving up the day we made those vows, Elain. I'm sorry. I truly am. But this...this is different. Lucien was a stranger to you. I thought if I ever met my mate, she'd be a stranger to me as well. But Y/n was my best friend. I've loved her for centuries."

"All that time together and yet, you still never went after her," Elain argued. 

Those words landed a heavy blow in his gut. Elain was right. He had known his mate for years and years and never once did he think of her as anything more than a friend. But that wasn't because of her. No, he had done that to himself. 

He had found a companion with Y/n. She saw him in ways no one else did. He'd be lying if he said that hadn't scared him. For someone to see through him—through all the good and to the rotting, decaying bad that existed in him. He was a monster hiding in plain sight and she had seen that. She had seen all of that and loved him anyway. 

And he had ran from it—from her. It was his own self-hatred that caused him to never see Y/n that way. She reminded him of everything that he was because she was all the same. She was the missing piece to his broken soul. But she had been beautiful in her darkness, hauntingly exquisite in her shadows. And he had been a brutish beast who thought that someone could vanquish the darkness that surrounded him.

What he hadn't realized was that he was never looking for a light to cast the shadows away. Not really. He had been fighting a storm whose tides had only been trying to bring him home to her. To his mate. His soul and heart and mind.  

And now she was gone and she had taken all of his love with her. 

Azriel stood from his seat, barely present in this reality. "I'm sorry, Elain. No words will change my mind nor my heart. I belonged to Y/n. It is only my fault that I never saw that." 

And it was his fault. 

All of it was his fault.  

• ───────────────── •

And I don't know what I'm crying for

I don't think I could love you more

It might not be long, but baby, I

I'll love you 'til the day that I die

• ───────────────── •

"Papa, who is that?"

Nyx's innocent voice caught Rhysand's attention. He followed Nyx's gaze to the corner of the room where Azriel stood, wreathed in his shadows. It had been years since any of them had laid eyes on the elusive shadowsinger. Years since he had been so consumed with his grief that he had disappeared from this court, from Prythian entirely. 

But there was one day he always returned.

The anniversary of Y/n's death. 

Cassian had ambushed him before he made it to her gravesite and all but dragged him to this family dinner. It broke Rhysand's heart that his son didn't recognize one of his uncles.

"That's Azriel," Rhysand answered, clearing his throat. "He's one of your uncles. He used to be around a lot when you were just a baby." 

"Oh," Nyx said, tilting his head as he looked at the shadowsinger. "He seems...sad. Why is he so sad, Papa?" 

Rhysand's heart snapped in his chest. The loss of Y/n had been felt by all of them, of course. But for Azriel...it had destroyed him. None of them had known about the mating bond between the two of them. They had been caught off guard just as much as Azriel had been. Rhys had felt an inkling that she might've been in love with him due to her slowly distancing herself once he and Elain had gone public with their relationship.

He had only thought she needed space and time. He hadn't realized that she had been slowly wilting away. And no one had done a single thing to help her. They had all failed her. 

Sometimes he felt a fire-burning rage towards his brother. He had tried to steer him away from Elain that Solstice night but Azriel hadn't listened to him. Perhaps if he had, Y/n might still be here. Perhaps the mating bond would've finally snapped in place for Azriel. But instead he had stubbornly doubled-down on his feelings for Elain. 

"He lost someone he loved," Rhys choked out. "We all did. Do you remember the stories about Y/n?" 

Nyx clapped his tiny hands together with a smile. Gwyn had made sure that Y/n's name had been honored and recorded in the new books about the war with Koschei. A story that was being passed down through the years. A story Nyx had read time and time again because it was his favorite. 

"She was the warrior who faced a Death God all on her own!" Nyx exclaimed. "She led him straight to the trap where he was ambushed!"

Rhysand smiled, patting his son on the head. It had been too hard to speak her name after her death but slowly, they had all started talking about her more and more. Perhaps it was finally time to tell his son the whole story. Rhys glanced at Azriel again, who was a shell of his former self. Perhaps not the whole story.

"Well, before all of that," Rhys started, "Y/n was our friend..."

• ───────────────── •

Birds of a feather, we should stick together, I know

I said I'd never think I wasn't better alone

Can't change the weather, might not be forever

But if it's forever, it's even better

• ───────────────── •

Azriel was kneeling on the grass, his hands grasping the beautiful stone marker of your gravesite as his eyes combed over the engraving: 

Here lies Y/n

Beloved Daughter, Sister and Friend

The stars will shine brighter with you among them 

Rest in Peace

"I have tried to go on for your sake," Azriel murmured. "Because I know that is what you would've wanted. But I can't...I can't do this without you. I relive every day I've shared with you and it is still not enough to make me miss you any less. I am sorry that it took your death to make me realize just how much you meant to me." 

Azriel had gone through it all in his head time and time again. Always reliving moments where he could've seen what was right in front of him all along yet didn't. Your last words to him constantly looped in his mind. 

"I'll find...you...again. Maybe...maybe I'll be...good enough...then."

Those words could not be more untrue. It was always him who had never been good enough for you. Not you. Never you. You had always been as beautiful as the moon reflected on the sea, alluring and mysterious but peaceful. So peaceful. Despite the darkness the two of you shared, you'd always been so soft and kind to those around you...those who had never felt the kind of pain you'd gone through. 

You lured people in because of your grace. You gave people a safe place to exist in. Your shadows had felt like a warm blanket on a chilly night. Your smile had rivaled the moonlight. 

You had always been far more special than you knew. 

Your mistake had been thinking you could out love his hatred for himself. 

But the mating bond had opened his eyes. Although he had only gotten a few seconds with his mate, its song had told him everything he needed to know. He no longer hated his shadows or the anger he felt inside. He no longer hated himself. How could he? How could he hate himself when part of him was you? 

And he could never hate you. 

Gods, he could never be without you. Your souls were intertwined. 

But living in this world without you was something he could not bear. He was consumed by your memory. He looked for you in everything. In the sea, in the breeze, in the faces of random people, down alleyways and behind every door. But you were not here. You were not here and so he decided he could not be here, either. 

"You said you'd find me again," Azriel whispered. "You said you'd find me again but that is not enough. I cannot sit here and wait for you. I will crawl through Hell and everything that is ready for me when my life ends to find you. This life means nothing to me without you in it. You were my heart, Y/n. I love you. I've always loved you. And I am ready to prove that in our next life."

Azriel slid Truth-teller from its sheath and turned it over in his hand, pointing the blade directly as his own heart. He closed his eyes, tuned out all noise except that of the leaves gently rustling in the breeze. 

"I love you, Y/n," he murmured, gripping the blade tighter. "And I can't wait to see you again." 

His dagger pierced through skin and bone until it reached his heart. 

Until all life was spilled from inside of him. 

Until his final breath carried with the wind. 

Until he could finally see his love again.

• ───────────────── •

I knew you in another life

You had that same look in your eyes

I love you, don't act so surprised

[balrogballs]

I have never had a normal thought since I realised Aragorn/Estel would have been around 10 years old — more like 7/8 considering his heritage — when Thorin's Company passes through Rivendell, so here are some brainrot headcanons (continued under the cut):

Estel is obsessed with Thorin. Just completely obsessed. Follows him around everywhere like a cat, begs him to play with him, offers to run errands for him. Literally every elf in Rivendell is completely stunned at the behaviour because Estel is, normally, a card-carrying ankle-biter.

The Dwarves, on the other hand, are shocked by the fact that by a few days into the visit, Thorin seems to like Estel too. Gloin would have sworn that he expected Thorin to throw the child off the banisters the minute he made him hold his pet python. Thorin didn't just hold said snake, but played with him, let him do little odd jobs, even letting him sit up with him at the dining halls. On two evenings, he even takes Estel out with a wooden sword, to show him how to "fight like a Dwarf lord". All the Dwarves are just as shook as the elves, minus Kili and Fili, who knew Thorin as Uncle Thorin and are completely unsurprised that he is so wonderful with little Estel.

Lindir and Elrond find a content python snoozing in Elrond's study. Lindir and Elrond are both utterly and irrationally terrified of snakes. After much screaming and climbing on sofas, every member of staff swears Estel had been in his mother's quarters all day. Nobody thinks to mention that they saw Bilbo and Thorin hanging about outside the study, because what relevance could that possibly have?

When the company left Rivendell, Estel was understandably quite unhappy because he'd miss them, also they were going to see a dragon, and he begged to go with them. Thorin does what most parents do before going on a trip, and promises to bring him a present from the dragon's lair when they returned.

Bilbo returns without Thorin, but with the promised present for Estel. He visits the boy in his quarters and they hold each other and share their grief. Bilbo then shows him the present. He explains how Thorin wanted to give him something more substantial than a golden cup scraped off the floor of a dragon's lair — he had told Bilbo, the night before the battle, to give the boy Thorin's own solid gold wristband.

On the same return trip, Elrond expressed his condolences over Thorin's death, and enquired if there were other casualties. When he finds out that Kili and Fili had also died in the battle, a strange, terrible expression twisted across his face and he said, almost reflexively, both? both together? good. that's good. The remaining Dwarves and Bilbo were all stunned, thinking it was Elvish apathy at best, and deliberate disrespect at worst. After all, they had no reason to know that Elrond, like his immortal brethren, found it somewhat difficult to gauge the ages of mortal beings — and had thought the two late brothers were twins.

Decades later on the night before the Fellowship were set to depart, the elderly Bilbo Baggins found it hard to sleep from worry, and wandered onto the balcony, and saw a lone man practicing sword moves in the courtyard. He realises both man and combat style seem faintly familiar, like the heavy striding and swinging and slashing are the steps to an old dance he once used to know, which now lives in a deep, forgotten place within him, under layers of unravelling memories. He can't quite put his finger on it. But there is a strange comfort in the sight, so soothing Bilbo's eyes start to close, falling asleep curled up right there on the balcony. He slips off into a wonderful old dream, lulled by the rhythm of fallen leaves crunching in the courtyard — where Aragorn "fights like a dwarf", solid gold wristband twinkling under the light of the stars.

[sugar-grigri]

Recipe for creating God! In just 9 steps by Barem Bridge

Let's turn things upside down this time. I'll start directly with the conclusion and we'll work our way back.

My conclusion: Barem wants to create a god.

Step 1: create commitment, it's important to go about it the opposite way round, get followers (focus on the young if you want to make a mark on a generation), set up a real infrastructure with even prophets who look like followers but are superior, the great chosen ones!

Step 2: Sow chaos. This is important to make people understand the need for a great savior. Make the icon a sin, and pretending to be a savior a sin too. Don't hesitate to contact the fire demon for help.

Step 3: make sure that whoever is to be your deity is alone, has no one close to him and is very lonely. Worse, becoming himself is his only answer. Don't hesitate to do it in front of a big sacrificial fire. For best results, break what little sane spirit remains in your deity. What god can be sane? That's not what we ask of them!

Step 4: You can take inspiration from other bases you know, take inspiration from the Christian area. Not all men believed in Jesus, and Jesus was tortured. That's a good thing, because it has a double benefit. Firstly, if your deity doesn't close himself off to humans, it'll show his great wisdom, but above all, if he can be resurrected, it makes it easier to create his myth.

Step 5: Next, trust the elements that are simmering in your heart: a little loneliness, betrayal, grief, physical pain. Trust the torment of the story so that your hero's only hope is dashed. Did he believe in sex? Let him be further tormented so he understands that it won't make him happy, but also unhappy. And then you get something interesting, a martyr.

Step 6: You have your martyr, and your preparation allows his suffering to be properly directed. His sexual assault? His grief? It's important that it doesn't make him want to live. A god doesn't live, humans do. But God is simply there. He exists in himself. Never dies, but never lives either. Above all, make sure that the gap between him and mankind widens a little. Let the misunderstanding between him and mortals deepen.

Step 6: You need an antagonist, an opposing force. Focus on one of his loved ones, like Lucifer, the angel who once carried the light, who also symbolizes hope. But make him a traitor, a source of violence, a monster who doesn't feel sadness. Careful, we're talking about a pebble here, a betrayal, but it takes much more to create Le Diable.

Step 7: Keep your god under control, as his torments could destabilize him. You're the one in charge, so you've got the situation under control. Be confident in your abilities. Trust your ingredients.

As fish and sushi symbolize hope, your divinity no longer looks at them. The hand is an enigma for your divinity, a symbol of prayer, of the link with others, of its humanity, but a hand that is also cruel, violent, devastating yet gentle, yet playing on buried desires. Human complexity lies in this hand. It is the barrier that separates your divinity from the rest of the world. This symbol of rapprochement. And distance. Let him still believe in this hand. This possibility of being normal. Still keep your divinity under wraps.

Step 8: But don't forget to feed it. Put the fish aside and take back what the bird brings you. You know, that light bird that's also a weight, symbolizing your relationship with others, especially what they think. Worrying too much about this enchanting bird can lead to tragedy, just as hoping to hear all the songs will make you look like a heretic - you can't be a god. There is only one. Chainsaw Man.

No… All you can do is beg. Pray. Like a mere mortal.

It's vital that your divinity feeds on these unborn thoughts, they're not even birds. They're just eggs. Only God can eat them, as an omniscient being.

And there you have your divinity, a beautiful dish, but what exactly is it for? Several things.

Tasting: You created light, so you created shadow. Or rather, the absence of light. To create this being of darkness, this being must be completely hermetic to this being of light, opposed, closed, above all: it must feel betrayed and abandoned by it. The absence of light is none other than Lucifer, the former bearer of light and God's right-hand man.

And there you have it: for your divinity to have access to Lucifer and oppose him, it has to accept its role as a divinity. Adapt to it. And so, finally, accept your role as savior.

Savior from what? From the apocalypse!

By doing so, you protect humanity and contribute to your ideal.

ET VOILÀÀÀ you have your champion!!!!! God? Chainsaw Man? Noooo, God himself is an ingredient.

Step 10: Wish the God Devil bon appétit

[inkasrain]

Viren: Not the Cliff but the Road

I'm pretty sure that most of The Viren Conversation has been had (and had, and had!), so I don't want to beat a dead (disgraced, former) High Mage. Howeverrrr, there is one element of the way this character finale played out that remains one of my favorite things to come out of the TDP room, and I just want to talk about it a little. (As always, just my take, not canon.)

I have a strong personal bias against the idea of death as an inherently redeeming act in fiction. We are so accustomed to the idea that a succesful hero's arc will conclude in sacrifice, and that therefore a reformed villain's arc must end in the ultimate sacrifice, that we don't think to probe the origins of this concept. To me, this is basically just deeply ingrained Christian pedagogy masquerading as narrative fact. I don't personally think that there is anything inherently salvational or goodness-proving about this arc format, or that it should be the natural default for stories like this. Death does not cleanse; life does. So theoretically, I should be unhappy with the way Viren's arc ends in season 6. He -- a bad person -- dies doing a good thing. He sacrifices his life for Soren and the people of Katolis and thus is redeemed.... right? If I thought that Viren's change arc ends with his death, sure. But that's not how I see it. For me, Viren's arc draws to a close before the attack on Katolis, and before his death. I don't actually think he has a singular redemptive moment. Instead, it is the sum total of his choices and actions from 509 to 606 -- the ways he makes use of his life -- that are cumulatively cleansing. Viren has always thought of himself as someone who makes "the hard choices" but he's been pretty good at wriggling (or being wriggled) out of the consequences. As of 509, that changes; he changes. He makes choices that will be painful for him. That will place a burden on him. And that, most importantly, he believes he will have to live with. There is nothing short-term about the decisions Viren makes after that point in the story. They are all the actions of a man who has finally realized that he can (MUST) live with the consequences of his "hard choices." I'd even include choosing not to kill the Homunculus in that category, as the death Viren faces there is a quiet, lonely, and utterly unremarkable surrender -- all things his character in many ways been defined as working so strongly against.

If there is a true peak of his arc, I personally see it as the moment in 606 when Viren burns his letter to Soren. He has gone through the agony of exposing his darkest moments and can move forward with the clarity that such an experience provides. But even more importantly, he chooses not to burden Soren with that knowledge -- and in doing so, accepts that he will live with Soren's anger and blame. He will not justify himself at Soren's expense; he sacrifices any hope of receiving love from his son because he knows those feelings are the cumulative consequence of his own actions. Viren's death is a culmination, if anything, of his love for Soren and his arc of shifting the focus of his life to others. His death does not retroactively prove his goodness, does not justify his past. It is a sad resolution of a man's struggles, nothing more. So I don't see Viren's choice to sacrifice himself as a redemptive act, because I really don't think he needs one. He is doing the work already, living the life, walking the more difficult road. It's bittersweet that the road ends, but they all do. The important thing is, for me, that Viren isn't defined by the act that ends his life, some kind of spectacular salvational swan dive off a cliff. Instead, he is marked by the journey, the change he underwent to get to that point in his story. (And like, I was a very minor participant in the orchestration of this arc, but I'm ridiculously proud to have been a small part of this kind of storytelling.)

[ineffably-human]

We're going to scream about Nandermo all week, but right now I need to talk about Baron Afanas. Because the Baron's arc, so to speak, always felt like a big part of the series DNA for me - and oh fuck did this episode deliver on why.

I think we can agree: in the show, vampire society is fucked up, right?

Vampires on their own have plenty to deal with that can make them crazy. They have to live by killing. They lose everyone from their old lives. They have to find new reasons to keep going on, forever, so shit can get decadent really fast.

But holy shit, what that's turned into in vampire society? Where you actively put cruelty over mercy, and violence over solving your problems? Death cults and scam artists roam free, but if someone has depression the best thing to do is ignore them. Someone can get their mind wiped or be locked up for centuries, and that's just what you do to your species.

--

So: the Baron's arrival is the first conflict of the whole show. The joke is about an ancient powerful creature of pants-shitting terror, vs three lesser vampires who just want to live their lives and not get murdered for being too lazy to conquer humanity. There's a lot of talk about how to please him: do you keep to the old ways, or pick up some new traditions? Decorate with flayed skin, or with glitter? And the Baron says: who cares, you're all soft and useless. All that matters is getting more control over this world, until people are cattle and we have no reason to hide anymore.

But later he confesses: that shit stopped mattering ages ago. He's not even real nobility, he's literally impotent, and he talks about doing horrible things because he doesn't know what else to say. He's angry and half-crazy from boredom. And admitting that, owning those feelings, means suddenly he has three new friends and a whole new world of things to enjoy.

There's the Baron the rest of the vampire world knows, but for one night we see the ancient, unknowable terror was just a guy. Maybe he's always been just some guy.

That fun puts him in a vulnerable position, and he's killed by the most unwitting vampire slayer in fiction. But Baron Afanas is changed. He sucks dirt for a year and still comes out of it with a new lightness and joy to him. He saves the Sire, another ancient terrifying monster everyone was eager to kill or send away. They adopt the hellhound. They get cozy and give advice. They make popsicle stick houses and go on walks. They live.

And that seemed like the end of the story until last night - when the Baron suddenly felt like the butt of a joke everyone knew but him. Spurred on by someone else who feels lonely and ignored, the Baron felt vulnerable. And he snapped back to how he lived for centuries.

'What the hell are you all doing, enjoying yourselves? We're supposed to be unhappy. We're supposed to live centuries of unhappiness, bringing pain to everyone in our path, and we're definitely not supposed to cheer up our friend who's sad.'

--

Nobody liked the Baron before Guillermo killed him, not even other powerful vampires we meet; they saw the Baron as a crazy far beyond their own crazy. But this is also how vampire society values you. It's how they measure Nandor's worth when they think he's dead, too: how old and powerful you are, how much you've been able to conquer and kill.

Vampire pods are both cliquish and aren't expected to last in the first place. If someone dies, you literally paint them out of your lives and forget. Everything we see discourages feelings, sincerity, or even basic companionship. The only way to earn respect is to be cruel. The more cruel you are, the more powerful you are. The more powerful you are, the more feared you are - the lonelier you are, the crazier you are. It's practically designed to create the Baron, or worse.

But new vampires don't behave that way. And the vampires we follow in the show don't behave that way - because they have each other, because they've been encouraged to have each other, often by Guillermo. (Holy shit, Nadja saying maybe she'd be fine dying, and Nandor immediately asking if she's okay? Nothing changes in this house, except everything does. They're not going to almost lose one of their own ever again.)

The vampires in the heart of vampire culture never seem happy to be like this. It doesn't have to be like this.

--

The Baron doesn't become a tyrannical monster for long. Because he never actually was one - and because he spends two evenings and a fireball to the face, watching Nandor and Nadja fight for Guillermo. Watching them plead and cling and defy, seeing Guillermo's earnest feelings in spite of his bloodline and the mistakes he's made. Seeing Nandor's perfect trust, and then his grief, the way he insists that Guillermo was never 'just' anything. The Baron can't find real fulfillment in hurting someone (because that ship sailed ages ago). He can't deride them for caring, because he's cared for a long time now.

And when the Baron admits that's who he is, when he says it out loud, he only gains more in his life. He finds new depth in the happiness he'd felt for a while now, because he's admitted and allowed himself to be happy. And now he has the children he's always wanted. Living together, the Baron and the Sire are still ancient and powerful - and they're also family, finding real joy together in a world that was ready to dispose of them.

"I suppose with the right company, it can be beautiful, this eternal existence."

--

There's an inherent selfishness to being a vampire, taking from someone else in order to live. But there doesn't have to be inherent cruelty, or lack of love.

They're all ready to admit they care. The Staten vampires have all cared for Guillermo or each other in their own ways this season. And Guillermo doesn't lack for flaws, but loving his monster family has never been one of them. (When he and Nandor work their shit out, they're gonna be insufferable.)

Now they just have to let the Guide in. Because she's absolutely starved for love, and vampires get pretty fucked up when they're on their own.

[adhd-fandom-hyperfocus]

Secret Box

Sorry no fancy formatting or anything here. I got sudden inspired to write this from an anon @moodymisty got Tagging @kit-williams because I know Mr. Turbo is her man Warnings: Hints of NSFW stuff at the very end. Sorry if Turbo sounds ooc I haven't written him at all before so be kind. Also, did not proofread this. MINOR DNI

"Oh I don't know, I would be unhappy too if all I had to was tear things down and war. Maybe he wants to something else?"

"What do you mean? He seems quite happy breaking things."

He watched you frown so deeply, "My little bother was like that, everyone thought he like being mad. Just did not know how to convey his feelings, and felt like he had to stay under father's thumb. But he really just wanted to be an artist. I loved his art!"

"I didn't know you had a brother, where is he?"

"Dead. Died angry and lonely because father wanted a soldier."

His furious hearts stopped in his chest. You saw him. You did not realize it, but you did. It scared him, mad him want to rage and break you. It made him want to keep you close. Show you those things he wanted to forget.

***

"What in the Emperor's name is that?"

"Oh one of those puzzle boxes, some call them secret boxes because once you open them you can keep little important secrets in them!" your smile makes his head spin and his stomach lurch.

He wanted you to smile at him like that more. He needed you to talk to him about the silly little boxes.

"Why do you have so many? They seem pointless, we do not have anything to keep in them."

"Oh, I am far too stupid to open them, but I find them beautiful, each one looks different, opens differently, and all so complex, like people!"

***

Weeks he slaved over his workbench, keeping this secret to all, which was made easy when got the small chance to engage with you. Or most commonly, watch you interact with others, needed to make sure you didn't give his secrets away; at least he tried to convince himself of that.

You thought yourself stupid, but you figured him out in a way not even the damn Emperor himself could. What looked so simple was perhaps the most complex of all.

You wanted to see the art he could create that wasn't for war, how his mind could do if allowed to run free. Called his work art, like it was something to also marvel at.

The primarch looked over his newest creation, the small box was intricate in it's design, how he liked things. But it was what was inside that made his chest feel weak, and yet made him powerful all the same. The primarch of iron was feeling himself soften at the heat that had made a permanent home in his lower abdomen.

When he presented the box to you he did not say he made it, refused to. But as he explained his lie, the look you cast at him shocked him. You knew his bluff. Of course you did.

"Well, whoever made this is a true master! I have never seen something to beautiful before, thank you my lord," you smile up at him, letting him keep his pride and secret, "I know you are a busy man, but should you remember who made this could you be so kind to your serf and tell me?"

Prutabo grunted and nodded, "If I feel so inclined. Let me know if and when you open it."

***

Days and weeks pass and you keep him updated with your progress, he makes comments that hint he isn't too interested, after all someone of his genius would have opened it already. You agree, but you won't give up. You determination makes his hearts feel like they are in knots. How happy and joyful you are over his little toy. The fun you find in testing yourself only just to say you did it. The moments of you updating him live inside his dreams, where he is brave enough to hold your hand and smile back.

The crusade had called him away and like always it kept him longer than anyone else. While his brothers got to reap all the glory he was cleanup, or the brunt hammer to break wills. So of course when the Lord of Iron returned everyone scattered. Hid like cowards.

Not you. Even with him exuding even more of his dour demeanor you came running up to him. Puzzle box in hand.

"My Lord! I know you just returned, but I have been waiting for teran weeks for you to return." you were overflowing with excitement; practically vibrating with it.

It was like a disease that spread quickly, because as you spoke his ire cooled. You were happy he was home.

"Make it quick." though he hoped you took as long as you wanted.

"I am about to open the box, and I wanted to open it with you!" you grin up at him coming closer, "Exciting right?"

You...waited for him. Wanted to share in his happiness with...Throne he thought he was going to burst out of his armor and into flames.

"For someone who cannot easily solve things, I suppose. Well, open it." he grumbled, fighting to keep his mask on.

As you moved the last piece into place and opened the lid, a centerpiece rose up, and thereupon it was a metal sculpting of morning glories rising up and in bloom, the spun slowly as music played. And resting inside the main flower was a small ring, designed to look like vines holding a blooming rose the held a pink diamond.

Oh the look upon your face he would have waited lifetimes just to see it. It made this little box the greatest thing he would ever fashion.

"My Lord...I...forgive me, my words are failing." you whisper still marveling at the spinning flowers, "I love morning glories..."

Perturabo nodded, "I am aware. I do listen..." he wanted to know about the ring, wanted you to wear it.

Let everyone know you were his. That you wanted to be his.

Tears well up in your eyes as you so gingerly take the ring. Without needing to ask he gently holds the box so you might place it upon one of your fingers. He watches intently as you try various fingers before putting it upon your ring finger.

"My..."

"Perturabo. You can call me by my name...should you wish to continue to wear that ring." he spoke so very softly for himself.

Thorne, he needed you to keep it on.

"I will, Perturabo," you say his name to see how it rolls off your tongue and it sounds like heaven to him.

When this crusade is over he will fill this place with sounds of your and his children, and he will cast off all this cold machinery for things that truly mattered to him. Being a toy maker in one's spare time wasn't such a foolish notion. He would not die like your brother, and leave you alone.

"Are you sure you want...I mean... I am a serf, people will talk and I do not want to tarnish your name." you whisper to him, eyes fixed on the ring.

"They would be foolish to speak of it where I can hear." was all he offered.

Your small hands slip over his covered in his massive gauntlets, and he was trembling to get this armor off.

"My Lady, if it pleases you," his voice low and he leaned in close so no other could hear, "I wish to remove this armor, if you would wait for me in my chambers..." he couldn't believe he was doing this! Smoothness and words were not his strong points, but for you, he would try, "There is a puzzle I would like to get to know intimately, work with my hands, would you be willing?"

His face burned as he waited what felt like eons for you to reply. Was this all too much too fast? Was he being a fool?

You take the music puzzle box from him and when you pull back you are smiling with cheeks as flushed as his, "I would love that. Now go before your men see you this shade of red and not yelling. I do not want to ruin your reputation." you tease

Perturabo smiled, "You, I will allow to ruin me." he said before tearing off to get this damn armor off.

[agentem]

Three of Pentacles

I keep hearing people complain that the "sisterhood" of the Coven in Agatha All Along was a sham because they only exist to support Billy, the lone male.

But that's not true. *stamps foot angrily.*

They are Lilia's coven. In her reading, the "reason for her quest" is community. They are the reason she is on this journey. And she is the one who writes the names down and choses the team (although maybe she should've reconsidered writing Alice's name since she dies but what exactly happens when she writes the names down--and the lights flicker--seems to be differen than the time gaps. It also happens when she sees what William will become. It seems almost involuntary? Also Lilia mentions the "path behind" are lessons learned so Alice dying might be important to Lilia accepting her own death? She mentions the path behind is "lessons learned." And that might have something to do with the repeated "Death comes for us all" line. Not sure.)

Anyway! TLDR, she's the Nick Fury of these Witch Avengers.

I think she needs this group (Agatha, Billy, Jen and Alice. Rio and Sharon are not included on the list) to help her through her end. To accept her fate. And he's important to that, to helping her think outside of herself. But he's "the windfall" the thing that might happen, but only if Agatha's trauma can be overcome. Jen is the guaranteed "path ahead."

Agatha's lines about not being able to divine when Death will come, heal Nicky or protect him suggest that she also needs a Coven. But she never embraces this particular group like Lilia does when she tells them she loves them. Agatha does show growth by sacrificing herself for Billy and then joining him on his quest. (The reason for his quest is The Sun/Reunion and it isn't achieved by the end of the series.)

Although I do get that the ending feels a bit... unfinished and some people are unhappy with that. Lilia is the only one who completes her "quest." But I don't think Marvel wants to be done with Agatha or Billy yet.

[geordikisser]

brat taming | tanner | 18+

epilogue: you have a horrible potty mouth and tanner doesn’t necessarily miiiiind that, or at all ever! until it’s towards him and he loves a power struggle soo ^_^ he doesn’t mind proving you wrong.

content contains! biting/marking, degrading, power struggle, jealous! tanner ..

⤷ afab anatomy used but gender isn’t specified! sorry ..

petnames used: sugar, honey, babe, baby, hunnybunny, slut, whore

you were live and playing some overwatch on tanners set up. he was downstairs, watching on his laptop. you were on dps and played tracer. you weren’t doing entirely horrible but your team was horrible. ☹️

“yall say hear me out and it’s on a conventionally attractive character bruh shut up.” you say mid laugh as you see the big fat ‘defeat’ on your screen. you felt so tempted to explode something. you join team chat and immediately shit on your team with every diabolical and tos friendly insults you can think of.

something you said made tanners stomach knot up. in a negative way .. the way your other teammate endorsed it sexually made him extremely like .. jealous?? is what he would call it.

bigTstreamingservice: WOAH!!!!!! ❌❌ BAD!!!! DONT SAYTHAT!!!!! 👎

“tanner shut your yap!! i say what i want. bitch.” you imitate a spit sound as you enter the practice range, now bored.

bigTstreamingservice: oh word 🤨

he types in chat as you snort. “on lone. tuh.” you emphasize you smacking your lips.

tanner finds himself getting up and walking to his room shortly after. you were searching on youtube for a subway surfers game footage to entertain your chat as you tell them a story. you’re laughing your ass off as you tell some random ass story.

“my name is larry ‘jamal’ croft winston.. i’m 17 years old.. —“ you quickly were cut off by an unsettling noise behind you.

you hear the door crack behind you, slowly spinning around in the chair. “hellou.” you say calmly. tanner can’t help but laugh his ass off. “THE ENERGY SWITCH??” he screams as you scoff. “WHAT ENERGY SWITCH? I NEVER SWITCH UP.” you say in a specific tone that just adds fuel to the flame of his laughter. “YES YOU DO?” he smiles, exhaling heavily.

he pulls a chair and sits besides you, towering over you slightly. “how’s it cooking, good lookin’.” he smiles at you all goofy. “you tryna find out?” you grumble. “100%. are you muted?” he asks as you double check quickly before giving him a ‘no’.

“bye.” he replied, smiling a bit. “i forgor..” you drool as he takes the mouse and reopens overwatch. “overwatch time!! i’ll coach you.” he huffs confidently. “girl there’s footage of you playing overwatch, i think i’ll be good.” you side eye him as he gives you a dimly look back.

“dude. shut up.” you stammer as he lets out a laugh. you queue up for a game and tanners hand ends up on your inner thigh, squeezing it comfortably. “DON’T TOUCH ME CREEP!!” you exclaim, loud enough for someone next door to hear it. he jumped and slowly turned to you, unhappy.

you begin to get frustrated at overwatch slowly and started slamming your hands on the desk like a little toddler and trying to reason with tanner each time you died or did a terrible play, him smiling and nodding.

“i hate you omg, I HATE FLASHBANG.” you whine as you squirm in your chair. he huffs out a breathy laugh as he fixes his hair, pulling it back. “who could hate this?” he says comically. “ME!” you retort almost instantly.

eventually, stream ends. you wrap it up due to tanners unsettling aura at the moment, you hope what you said didn’t actually upset him.

you turn to him and smile, “hai.” you coo out as he smiles in return. “hey hunnybunny, how are you?” he asks as he reaches for your thigh again, holding it gently. “i’m alright. overwatch sucks without friends..” you sigh out. he grimaced slightly.

tanner recently developed jealously problems that he was self aware of. he never saw himself as a jealous person, he’s really goofy and silly! until he got with you, he never realized how jealous he got over small things anyway, it was mild at the moment. he wishes he could’ve played with you instead of issac. (the person you played with)

“you could’ve played with me y’know.” he grumbled, attempting to hide this feeling. he trusted you and isaac equally, he had no reason not to. but it’s inevitable for him he feels.

you look up at him with a raised brow. he analyzes your expression and scratches the back of his neck. “cuz.. i can carry you.” he smiles awkwardly, his gaze leaving yours. “you sound a little green-eyed there tanner.” you grin.

“stop.” he groans softly as he turns away entirely. “you jealous, baby?” you lean forward. he sits there in a resentful silence.

his brows remain furrowed. “you upset isaac is better at overwatch than you?” you egg on. he slowly turns to you. “the same guy who screams when he isn’t healed in one second. that isaac is better than me.” he said more as a statement that question, laughing slightly.

“does 10-10 ring a bell.” you look away like you’re thinking. he sits up and looks at you with bitterness in his eyes, a cocky grin smeared on his face. “baby.” he started. you hum in response. “don’t start this with me.” his breathing hitched. “what are you gonna do about it, hm?” you raise your brow with a grin.

within a instance, tanners hands were on your waist and pulled you into him, kissing you gently on the lips. his tongue exploding down your throat.

you were taken aback from the sudden action and melted slightly into the kiss. realizing his plan.

you pull away quickly, your hands on his chest. “wait.” you scowl. “i see what you’re doing!!” you jump up, his hands slide down off your waist. he raised his brow confused. “what am i doing, sugar.” his tone laced with confidence. your lip quivers as you feel your face heat up. “tanner..” you huff, quietly. he stands up, towering over you once again. he slowly begins to back you up to the bed as you stumble back onto the bed.

your eyes examine his body, the bulge dented in his pants and the pattern his chest heaved up and down in. he was pent up.

“did you want this, tanner?” you grin as he rolls his eyes. “you can cut this act cuz we both know ill shut it down real quick, honey.” he sits down besides you, turns to face you and leans over. kissing you sweetly. you begin to straddle on top of him and holding his face as the kiss gets more passionate and passionate. the bulge in his pants evident against your own crotch.

tanners breath hitches as you grind against his bulge. he leans back slightly as you continue to grind against him. you smile cockily at him as you kiss his jaw. “you’re so sweet for me, tanner.” you say between kisses on his jaw, lowering to his neck. he lets out a little whimper as he begins to grip your hips slightly after. helping you grind against him.

“fuck..” he pants as you caress his cheek. he tugs at the rim of your sweats and you kiss him one final time and begin slip off your own pants, your underwear remaining.

“good..” he smirks as he pushes your back against the bed, taking you aback. you gasp as he is on top of you. “don’t act cute, such a slut.” he giggles as he slips off your undies. “i’m gonna make you forget your name, sweetheart. :3” he kisses your neck, leaving a very prominent mark on it. he lowers his head & begins to tease your hole. his tongue tickling you perfectly. you gulp and let out a heavy sigh, coming out in a shaky tone.

his hands gripping your things as he licks around your clit. you practically chew down onto your lip as your back arches into his mouth. “tanner..” you pant as you told the back of his head and begin grinding into his mouth. he stops.

“nuh uh, sorry baby.” he lifts his head and removes his hold from your thighs and holds your wrists. “you want me to abuse your sweet clit, right?” he hums. you look away, pride slipping down the drain. “y—yeah..” you huff, your eyes shut tightly. “look. don’t touch.” he removes his grab he had on your wrists previously & slaps the side of your thigh. you yelp, growling lowkey afterwards. he giggles as he begins to tongue fuck you. his attention being to your clit and then fucking you with his tongue simultaneously.

“you like that? you like when i fuck your sweet hole with my tongue?” he drags out as you can only whimper in response. “fuck… you—..” you manage to squeeze out as he pulls away to bite your thigh. “keep it cute, slut.” he spits on your abused cunt and sits up, taking off his pants. you flinch at the impact of the spit.

his hard cock flings out & he begins to stroke himself. he lets a string of spit fall to the tip of his cock and covers his cock with his spit. “you ready, baby?” he smiles at you. you nod in response. “no? awww that’s a shame.. you can watch me stroke my hard cock infront of you then.” he pouts slightly. you furrow your brows. “tanner..” you murmur. he raises his brow, humming as he acknowledges you.

“stop being a dick.” you spat in response. he smacks his lips and shakes his head. “no no no baby, that’s not how you answer.” he lowers down to your collar bone and bites down. you exclaim and he covers your mouth.

”tell me you want this dick, like a good whore would.” he pants as he continues to bite down on you. he lifts his hand from your mouth, “i-i want your cock, tanner.” you sob out as the bite marks begin to hurt more. “such a masochist.” he lifts his head and kisses you gently on the lips. “good slut.”

he puts his tip in slowly as his cock melts inside you completely. he groans out as he begins to thrust immediately, giving you zero time to adjust. you didn’t deserve it in his eyes.

you begin to drool and tear up. tanners thrusting pattern is ingrained into your hole. he begins to tend to your nipples and suck on one and tease the other one with his hand. you were already pretty close due to him teasing your clit previously. “m’close..” you whine out, pathetically. he gives you a cute smile in return. making your stomach knot up. “i love you, t—tanner..” you coo out, drunkenly. your tears staining your cheeks. “love so much..” he cries out, squeezing your eyes shut.

“i love you more, baby.” he smiled at you, kissing your cheek, now your lips. you reach your climax, moaning into the kiss. he smiles into the kiss as he pulls away. panting slightly. he pulls out and places his cock on top of your crotch and his cum drips out all over your stomach.

he lies besides you and kisses your shoulders. cuddling you as you feel woozy, recovering slowly but surely. “my sweet baby, took my cock so good for me.” he mumbles between kisses as you try to cuddle into him. he stops you immediately. “wait wait!! i don’t want my jizz on my bed.. let’s get you cleaned, ‘kay?” he grins awkwardly as you whine. “okay..”you huff as you sit up. your belly covered in cum. “my pretty pretty baby. so gorgeous.” he smiled ear to ear, as he leads you to his bedroom.

[redr0sewrites]

If it wouldn’t be too much to ask can we get an angst Adam x reader?

Where reader is a winner waiting in heaven for Adam to return from extermination only for him to never show and being told by Emily or lute directly he died.

Please and thank you!

NONNIE WHY WOULD U DO THIS TO MEEEEEEEE <\\3

🥀Pt 2 HERE

🥀Cw: major character death, angst

the soft tapping of your foot against the marble floors echoed rhythmically throughout your shared home. shared with your lover of course, who had just flown off to this year's extermination. pacing up and down the kitchen floor, worries were seeping into your mind. despite your lover's reassurance, you still had the nagging feeling that something was amiss. you knew that Adam would be up against some of hells greatest powers, and while he had confidently assured you that the battle would be easy, you were still uncertain.

"dont worry toots, i'll be fiiiiine. i always am, eh? i'm THE Adam, i fucking rock! trust me babe, this fight will be over in minutes~" your lover leaned in to kiss your cheek before donning his helmet and taking off into the sky. as you watched him fly away, you tried to calm the worries soaring in your chest. Adam was right, he would be fine. he always was... right?

you replayed the scene in your mind again and again, trying to force yourself to remain calm. everything would be fine, Adam would come home and tackle you in a hug, then demand that you listen to him rant for the next few hours about each of his kills. suddenly, the rustle of wings and a loud thump outside of your door caught your attention. you ran towards your front door, excitement filling your body as relief curled into your soul. he was fine, of course he was fine! you tore open the door, expecting your lover's bright eyes and boastful expression to greet you. but it wasn't Adam at the door. it was Lute, looking bedraggled and worse for wear.

"Lute? what the fuck happened to your arm?!" you exclaim, motioning for her to come inside. Lute just shakes her head, a miserable look on her usually stern face. "Lute... where is Adam?" you try to remain calm as she just stares at you, pain and pity in her gaze. "he... in the battle, there were some... complications. Adam didn't make it," she whispered, handing you a bloody halo. ice cold shock flooded through you, soon melting into a burning pain coiled in your chest. you felt as though your insides were trying to break free, and you took the halo from her with shaky hands.

"where... where is his body," you whisper, voice low and sharp. Lute turned, refusing to even look at you. "we lost it, we had to retreat quickly and didn't have time to retrieve it..." your heart broke at her remorseful tone, and tears began to stream down your face. "i'm sorry y/n. there was nothing i could do-" you raised a hand to shush her, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. your lovers cold halo was still heavy in your hand, just like the heavy ache in your heart.

"its not your fault, Lute. i just- i need some alone time to process- i don't know." you sigh, defeated and exhausted. "i think we all do," she whispered, looking at you again. then, Lute nodded understandingly, and flew off without another word. for a second you stood there, looking out at the beautiful skies of heaven. people always claimed that there were never bad days in heaven, but you felt as though your very soul was splitting in half. pain and remorse and anger seemed to be filling the empty pit in your heart, the fresh wound of Adam's loss already stung enough. you slam your door shut, throwing the halo across the ground and collapsing into your shared bed- now just yours. there was nothing you could do, and tears overcame you as the sound of sobbing echoed throughout your lonely home.

AUGHHHHHJH this hurts. i might make a pt2 where adam returns as a sinner and reunites with reader (only if yall want ofc) bc i HATe unhappy endings 😭

[all-pacas]

I finished nobody’s fault & chase and I couldn’t understand why chase wouldn’t forgive house. Like obviously he’s traumatised and couldn’t walk but it feels like I’m just missing sth crucial. Chase did reason it with his doubts…but I don’t know if he honestly believed them. Any thoughts?

In a lot of very interesting ways, Nobody's Fault/Chase reads to me like a pretty direct continuation of Teamwork. Of S6. Cameron leaves the show talking about how House is poison, how he ruins people and ruined Chase specifically: House is reckless, House makes people act like him, House has ruined Chase's life. And… it's unfair, but it's not entirely wrong. Chase has become a worse person over the years. He has become a lonelier and more bitter person.

Nobody's Fault makes it fairly clear that legally, the stabbing was not House's fault. Chase fucked up, Adams fucked up, everyone made mistakes. House wasn't really even involved, but at the same time, none of it would have happened if not for House. This is Cameron's "poison" speech come back around: House spends years encouraging recklessness and results and defiance, and eventually it's going to backfire and hurt someone. House never told Chase to murder Dibala, but House taught Chase to act and not care about laws or consequences.

HOUSE: She blames me for Dibala's murder, not you. CHASE: You were barely involved in that case. She knows that. HOUSE: But I created the big, bad, evil climate that allowed it to happen. (teamwork)

CAMERON: You did kill Dibala. By playing God and teaching us to do the same. HOUSE: I taught you to think for yourselves. (teamwork)

COFIELD: You brazenly defied your boss. Now that happened either because Dr. House has established that that's okay in his world, or his prank war distracted you, or House makes medicine a game, and you just wanted to beat him. Whatever the reason, it boils down to the fact that you may never walk again because House created an atmosphere that promotes recklessness. (nobody's fault)

This is actually kind of a theme. We even see shades of it in The Mistake, in House Training, in Wilson urging 13 to work for House because she alone is immune to his influence, in Masters and Cameron leaving entirely: House changes people. Not for the better.

So, does Chase truly blame House for what happened? No. At the end of the day, Chase's loyalty to House did win out, and he defends him pretty strongly to Cofield; in fact, he's also able to point out that House was, despite his appearance, wildly concerned and worried and Chase knew it (let's not forget, Chase has always been very good at reading House). He seems to blame himself (using the same "I would do it again" language as he used in Teamwork). But that doesn't mean he isn't angry at House.

Chase is very similar to Forever, Foreman's reaction to his own near death experience. Foreman almost died, and is putting on an act of being a new person to try and give meaning to the event. Chase does sort of the same thing — except he comes to the opposite conclusion. He almost died, and it seems to have made him realize how completely miserable he is. House isn't to blame for the stabbing. He kind of is for that.

That's kind of a theme with Chase in S8 in particular. He takes a year off and is bored and waiting for House. In a later episode, he wonders why he's still working for House: he's in year seven of a three year fellowship. Foreman is the Dean of Medicine; Cameron is running an ER in Chicago. Chase is exactly where he started. His entire life is working for House. And he kind of hates it. Not House, but… his life, you know? He picked House over his marriage. He picked his fellowship over his very successful surgical career. What has he gotten for it? Divorced, lonely, bitter… stabbed. He's thrown his morals away. He killed a man in cold blood. Is he happy? Probably not.

Chase is unhappy, he feels (somewhat fairly) that his life is not what he wanted, and like Foreman years earlier, he's trying to make changes. He wants out of House's orbit. He's reflecting on what he wants, and his arguments against Moira joining her convent are… pretty telling: She's missing out on getting married. Having kids. Having a successful career. He tells her later he was married once, that he wants a relationship with her. We know these things are true; only two years ago Chase was absolutely convinced he had it with Cameron. But at the same time, he's grasping at straws. He wants to escape, to start over. He blames House for how his life turned out.

CHASE: I need to get away from House and everything that reminds me of him. ADAMS: By breaking the rules, not caring what anyone else thinks. You're gonna get away from him by turning into him? (chase)

CHASE: This has nothing to do with the truth. You don't like that I'm reassessing my life, that I want to change it, that I can. HOUSE: Anyone can screw up a life. I never said that wasn't possible. CHASE: You're incapable of human connection, so you want everyone to be like you. (chase)

And the thing is, Cameron must be rolling in her grave right now, because. This is what she was saying. House ruins people, he poisons them: he has influenced Chase and not for the better. Chase now, finally, agrees. He isn't happy with his life, and he's blaming House the same way Cameron did. He's angry with House and can't forgive House, not because Chase really blames him for the stabbing, but because he's in his words reassessing, he wants to change, he sees House (correctly, mind you) as the symptom of all these changes: it's not fair to blame House — House wasn't sitting and doing this intentionally — but it's inarguable that a decade with House has done this. (And I love how Nobody's Fault underlines just that point. Chase has been here the longest. He has known House the longest.)

But House is right, too. Chase wanting to change is sincere, but it's also a reaction. He is unhappy, but jumping straight to I will live happily ever after with this random lady isn't a solution. And implicitly, Chase agrees: the fact that Chase has spent half the season with very short hair and stubble, then these episodes limping, is not an accident. Nor is the fact that at the end of Chase and going forward, Chase is clean shaven, back to his usual hairstyle, and no longer limping.

I also think their argument at the end of Chase was. Important. House telling him it's okay, even if not in those words. That he isn't an idiot, that he didn't make a mistake or do something wrong (when Chase from his language and unhappiness over the past few years doesn't seem to agree). They've long since left the days where Chase was slavishly seeking House's approval, but that doesn't mean it didn't mean something to finally get it. I think House telling him you didn't do anything wrong was what Chase really needed: not just the words, but hearing it from House, in a moment where Chase is feeling lost and wanting to change and wanting to blame House (for being miserable, for not connecting to others, for being lonely and alone like Chase fears himself)? That mattered.

And we see going forward that Chase actually does change. He becomes close to Park, he stops sleeping around, he leaves PPTH on his own terms, finally (even if it doesn't exactly stick for long). Cameron was right all along that House changed Chase for the worse… but House and Chase seem to realize that doesn't have to stay that way, and that Chase can still change and be happier going forward.

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

The Kestrel and the monkey

Shanks x reader (moodboard)

*****

Sabu is worried about (name). 

He can’t tell her, clearly, nor, he is ashamed to admit, can do much to improve her mood, apart from sitting on her lap to let her cuddle him, remain completely still as she brushes him -an activity she seems to find soothing, since Sabu can hear her sing softly to herself as she does it- and play with the little doll she has personally sewn for him - a present he appreciated, even though he has started losing interest in the toy he’s had it for a full year, even though (name) still smiles proudly to herself every time she she sees it play with it.

Sabu loves (name) more than anything else in the world, and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make her happy, even tolerating how she sometimes pulls his hair when the brush’s teeth find a knot or keeping her company while she works in the fields outside the village -not the only job she could have gotten, but she likes it better than being a salesperson at the local bakery- even if it means spending the morning under a sweltering sun.

He’d endure those troubles every day, all day, sleep on the floor rather than on an expressly-reserved corner of (name)’s bed and eat nothing but snails and lizards -yuck!- rather than the treats she buys for him; unfortunately, despite his motivation and desire to make her smile again, there’s little he can do to help.

Apart from him, Sabu doubts someone else has noticed (name)’s discomfort, since he spends far more time with her than anyone else and (name) is usually good at hiding it when she’s worried or unhappy. It’s something she has done since she was small, almost as small as him, in part because she didn’t want her parents to worry and in part out of pride, because she didn’t want to admit something or someone had upset her. After all she’s a well-known pirate, the second most fearsome combatant of her old crew, with a more than respectable bounty on her head, and even now that her life has radically changed, (name) feels she has a reputation to uphold.

Even three years ago, when her old captain died, as the whole crew cried desperately as they observed the small dinghy with his body depart from the ship, (name) didn’t shed a tear. Even Sabu himself cried, already missing the brave, jovial man who had liked scratching his chin and never complained even though there was something in his fur that made the captain sneeze endlessly, but (name) didn’t, in her role as first mate focused on the flame-tipped arrow she had just notched onto her bow, ready to set the dinghy aflame. 

She had loved the captain, who had been like a second father for her for more than a decade, more than anyone else in the world, and she considered most of the crewmates trusted and dear friends, but she didn’t dare to cry in their presence. Only later, on what turned out to be their last night on the ship before the crew disbanded and each pirate who had proudly belonged to the crew of Balthazar “The Sea-Lion” Dustin went their separate way, she allowed herself to mourn, her night spent softly weeping into her pillow while Sabu clutched to her side and did his best to comfort her. The sea, a place none of his kind had ever frequented before but which he had quickly gotten used to, had never felt so cold, so lonely and forbidding, like that night. 

They spent months wandering, moving from town to town, taking work where they -well, she; but Sabu accompanied (name) wherever she went, keeping her company and bringing her a water bottle or an handkerchief when she was thirsty or sweaty and making himself useful as much as he could, which meant he did his part, didn’t he?- could find, to keep herself occupied as much as to earn her living, and (name) seemed, if not sad, like a helpless ship in the middle of a stormy sea - directionless, no longer in control of her own life, lonely but unable or unwilling to find people or things to make her existence worthy of being lived. 

Arriving in Foosha felt like a blessing from above -this is something (name) says when something particularly fortunate happens; Sabu has never really understood what it means. Who, or what, is above? Does the blessing come from the clouds, or the sky?- for both of them. The village is similar to many others they have seen before, but it is quiet, peaceful, the people kind and friendly, and there is plenty of work for a woman willingly to toil in the fields or spend her evenings washing the dishes behind the Partys counter. Since their arrival, (name) has learnt to smile again; she has met new friends, found a way to make herself useful, and come to consider Foosha her new home.

Sabu was happy (name) had found some sort of serenity in her new life, but he knew it wouldn’t last, and it hasn’t. (name) is a woman of action, a pirate who has spent more than half of her life at sea, among treasures to find, enemies to vanquish, and adventures to live; she’s experienced enough to lead her own crew, and there is more than a Marine officer who rues the day their paths crossed. Sabu has lived those adventures with her, clutching to (name)’s back as she ran pursuing the pirates who had kidnapped one of her friends or taking advantage of his diminutive size to steal a cell key from the sleeping warden’s belt; it was a good life, a life (name) loved and felt hers. How could she feel happiness, or even just contentment, in a tiny, peaceful place like Foosha, where nothing new ever happens and one can walk from one side of the village to the other in less than ten minutes?

“It’s not that I don’t like this place anymore, you understand?” (name) tells him one night as they enjoy the evening’s cool air sitting on the porch of their home on the outskirts of the village -which is barely larger than her old cabin on the ship; fortunately Sabu at least takes up very little space!- she sitting on a chair and him on her lap, his tail wrapped around (name)’s leg as he allows her to use the hand free from her tea cup to scratch his head “It’s a lovely place, and I feel I could be content remaining here for the rest of my life. It’s just that…”

She finds it boring, Sabu bets against himself.

“If only there was a way… I’d like to depart already knowing what to do and where to go, not leave for the sake of leaving. Does it make sense?” she asks him, and herself, as she sips her tea, her gaze raised towards the stars, the same that they have admired every night for three years “I know I am still young, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in this tiny corner of the world, or wandering the world searching for I don’t even know what. I feel like I am meant for more than this, or at least for something else, and yet…”

“... it’s so boring!” she continues “So small, and nothing exciting ever happens… As a pirate I was used to danger and adventure, to wake up to a different dawn every day; in three years I have gotten to know the village and the area surrounding it so well I could walk around blindfolded. I’ll be sorry to leave this place, and the people living in it, but I need a change, to do something different, but what? We have spent months wandering around in search of a new place to call home, and I didn’t enjoy it - at all.”

Sabu didn’t either; they often had to sleep on the ground, sharing a single bedroll, snails were the only readily available food and another hungry traveller once tried to kidnap him to roast him on the fire.

… and yet I don’t know how, or where, to look for it. Sabu knows it without having to hear her say it; he’s sorry for (name), and would like nothing better than to help her, but how? He knows nothing of the world beyond what he has seen with her, and while most people in the village are friendly and treat him well -and why shouldn’t they? He’s adorable!- the language barrier means that he can’t ask for the help of the friends he and (name) have made in Foosha; he is completely helpless. 

While not unhappy, because she is grateful for her life in Foosha and the friendship of its people, (name) grows more and more restless and unsatisfied. She still works hard in the fields, helps Makino at the Partys and carries out whatever task she has been asked to help with, but Sabu can see how frustrated she looks, as if she were thinking about the years spent with her crew and her captain, living her life to the fullest as a pirate, which, she told Sabu once, had been her sole dream since she was six. She sits cross-legged on her bed, or at the little table in the kitchen, tracing with the tip of her fingers the outline of the tattoo on her right forearm - the Sea-Lion’s jolly rogers, that all her crewmates carried on their skin.

In those moments, which can last several minutes, (name) looks more despondent than ever, a sadness that goes beyond tears filling her eyes. Sabu knows there’s nothing he, or anyone else, can do to comfort (name) when she’s deep in her thoughts like that, surrounded by the ghosts of the friends she has lost and the dreams she had to abandon; so he climbs on her lap and embraces her, resting his face against the softness of her chest, and tells her, without the need for words, that she’s not alone and she’ll never be. 

It doesn’t help, not fully, but she understands it, and that’s something.

Days pass; weeks do as well, and finally something happens, something that makes Sabu snap to attention as he sits on Makino’s lap, content to let her pet and scratch him, and (name) serves the tea she has just brewed.

“A pirate ship has arrived at the dock this morning; they call themselves the Red-Haired pirates. Their captain is a man named Shanks. Have you ever met them, (name)?” 

She mumbles something in the negative, looking suddenly uncomfortable in her own home, and in the company of the first friend she’s made in the village. Makino, who maybe has also noticed how melancholic (name) has looked recently, proposes she could meet the pirates and make friends with them, since they seem like nice people and the captain told her they plan on staying a while, but (name) refuses, gently but firmly.

“My relationship with the world of piracy has ended more than three years ago.” she explains “I was a pirate, and proud of it, part of the best crew I could wish for, under the command of a captain Gold Roger himself would have been proud to call friend. I have lost them forever, and I have to accept this; meeting others like them would only serve to make the sense of loss even more vivid inside me. Thank you for telling me, Makino, I know you meant well; but the less I think about pirates and piracy the better I will be.”

Makino accepts (name)’s decision, apologising for having inadvertently upset her, and the two of them move on to talk about something else as they sip their tea; Sabu, on his part, is excited, and full of hope. A crew of pirates, good people, just like (name)’s old friends and beloved captain once were… concepts like destiny, and prayers answered, have no meaning for him, but Sabu immediately understands that this might be the chance he was waiting for. 

Of course, the pirates recently arrived at the village can’t help (name) if they don’t meet her, and she them. On the next day, after a morning spent working in the fields Sabu excitedly waits for (name) to leave for the village as she does almost every day in the afternoon, to enjoy a drink at the Partys and take care of other errands, but she doesn’t. Sabu sees her glance out of the window in the direction of the dock, uncertainty clear on her face, and then sigh, retrieve a book from the small shelf above the mantelpiece, and sit to read. 

She spends the rest of the day like that, and the day after, and the next one as well. She does leave the house, to enjoy a walk in the woods or to visit an older neighbour who might need help after a recent illness, but she seems to have forgotten a small but lively village, inhabited by people who for the most part she can call friends, lies only a short walk away. On the third day, when they realise the pantry is empty and they need to buy some groceries if they want to avoid starving, (name) makes a list of everything they need, gives it to the grandson who came visiting her neighbour together with some money, and asks him to take care of the matter for her, promising he can keep the change as payment.

Sabu doesn’t know what to think; he knows sometimes people are banished from home after they have committed some heinous crime, but (name) has done nothing wrong, not to mention she seems to have decided to exile herself, rather than being ordered to. He’s known her longer than anyone else, so long that he can barely remember a time when the two of them weren’t together, him clinging to her back or side, or riding on her shoulder to look ahead. They’ve always been close, in harmony to the point they could perceive each other’s mood and feelings despite the partial language barrier; now, not only Sabu really can’t understand the reasons for (name)’s decision, but he can see she’s worried, and unhappy, about something, and he has no way of helping her, no matter how dearly he wishes he could. 

Maybe he can find the truth by himself. Sabu spends the majority of his time by (name)’s side, and truth to be told he’s a little anxious about wandering around on his own, even in a place he knows well, but he can find his courage for (name)’s sake. On the next day, he waits for her to be busy working, focused on the movement of the shovel in her hands, and then silently departs. 

Reaching Foosha on his own takes a long time, not to mention his little legs hurt after walking for so long, but in the end Sabu gets to his destination. He enters the Partys hoping Makino will offer him the necessary refreshments, and she immediately does, pouring water in a bowl and peeling an apple as soon as she notices how exhausted he looks. 

“It’s the first time I see you here by yourself, Sabu; is (name) alright?” Makino asks, and fortunately she has come to know him well enough that Sabu is able to reassure her that he hasn’t come asking for help because (name) is sick in bed. He only plans on resting on the counter for a few minutes before starting his investigation around the village, but Sabu’s attention is attracted by a large group of men who have occupied most of the bar’s tables, not to mention what must be a large portion of its beer supply.

They must be the pirates Makino mentioned on her last visit; Sabu has never seen any of them before but he recognises their kind from the years he and (name) spent as part of the Sea-Lion’s crew; strong, rowdy men, the camaraderie among them, the scent of salt and danger their skin exude. Sabu knows (name) wouldn’t want him to approach them, like she always insisted he remained by her side every time their crew met with another unless they were allies or trusted friends, but (name) is not there to chastise him, is she?

So Sabu gets down from the counter, the slice of apple he’s munching in his hand, and approaches the pirates’ table, and as expected -again, he is adorable!- they are immediately interested, and amused, especially when Sabu grabs a tankard of beer from the table and starts drinking from it. The pirates laugh, already captivated.

“Who is this little guy?” a man asks as he approaches the table, probably back from the privy given the way he’s fixing his trousers; he has red hair, brighter than any Sabu has ever seen, and a friendly smile.

“We don’t know, captain; he just approached and started playing with us.”

“Well, wild monkeys are rarely this friendly.” the man judges, and then retrieves some nuts from a nearby plate to give him. As a rule, offering him food is the surest way to become friends with Sabu, and there’s something in the red-haired pirate he can’t help but like. So he’s the captain; Sabu wonders if he’s strong, trusted and respected by his men like the Sea-Lion was. There seem to be no women in his crew, which might be a problem, should it be a deliberate choice rather than a coincidence; some captains, (name) once told him, believe women to be cause of misfortune on ships, and since (name) is undoubtedly a woman, the red-haired man might not want her to join his crew.

That’s just because he hasn’t met her yet, Sabu thinks as he quickly climbs on the man’s shoulder. (name) is not only a powerful pirate; she’s also an experienced sailor, brave, resilient, and loyal, ready to risk her life to help her crewmates. Any captain would be lucky to have her. 

“Makino, do you know this guy?” the pirate asks as he turns towards the counter.

“His name is Sabu, captain; he belongs to a woman who lives here in the village.” she explains as she does the washing up behind the counter; then, with a smile, she clarifies: “Even though she’d say they’re more like two friends who live together than a pet and his owner.”

It’s absolutely true. Sabu also hopes Makino will mention that (name) is a former pirate, which might intrigue the red-haired man and make him decide he wants to meet her, but he has no luck. 

The captain, he soon learns, is named Shanks; (name) has always been all he needed to feel happy and safe, but Sabu had missed the company of pirates, and so he remains with them for the rest of the afternoon, when both his empty stomach and the setting sun out of the bar’s windows inform him it’s almost dinnertime.

“Come to visit us again, alright?” Shanks tells him when he and the others realise Sabu is taking his leave; he can’t answer - at least, not in any way the pirate would understand, but he pulls the pirate’s ear, which is his way to reassure and calm (name) down when she’s agitated. The pirate laughs and says Sabu is the funniest of his kind he’s ever met.

Sabu can say the same.

The grandson on his way to visit (name)’s neighbour gives Sabu a lift on his shoulders on the way back; when he arrives home, he finds (name) beside herself with fear, calling his name as she wanders around the house.

“Where have you been?! I was so worried, I thought something had happened to you!” she cries in relief when she sees him. Sabu is sorry to have worried her, especially when he realises her eyes have filled with tears; after all it’s the first time in the many years they have spent together that he had wandered farther away from her than the length of a ship’s bridge, he should have known that she’d wonder where he was and get upset!

He tries asking for her forgiveness in the usual ways -gentle bites on her fingers, an apple taken from the pantry and brought to her so that they can eat it together- but (name) remains in a bad mood for the rest of the night, at least until, over dinner, she asks him where he has been, and in response Sabu walks to the nearby bedroom to retrieve a headscarf Makino has gifted (name) on her birthday, last year.

“You’ve been at the Partys? Were you hungry?“

No, Sabu explains in gestures.

“Bored, then?”

Yes.

(name) sighs. “I’m sorry.” she murmurs as she takes him in her arms “I know it’s been a long time since we’ve done anything fun; it’s just… well, let’s say there are people in town I’d like to avoid meeting.”

Sabo has no idea who she’s talking about. There’s no one in Foosha she openly dislikes, and he can’t wait to introduce her to his new friends, Shanks and the others; he’s sure that as soon as they meet, the captain will ask her to join his crew, and she’ll be able to return to the sole life she could be happy in. 

“Still, I can’t keep avoiding the village forever, like I’m some kind of hermit or a leper.” (name) reasons, talking to herself as well as to Sabu, like she often does “The captain did use to say one has to face scary things rather than avoiding them, so… tomorrow we are going to say hi to Makino and buy some more groceries, alright? And then we can stop at the bakery and see if they have those little cupcakes we bought last month.”

Sabu approves, both since it means seeing (name) abandoning her self-imposed exile and because those cupcakes are delicious. He can’t wait for her and Shanks to meet!

They leave for the village soon after lunch, and (name) and Makino embrace as if they hadn’t seen each other in years. They talk happily while (name) enjoys her drink, and Sabu eats some nuts, waiting anxiously for the pirates to arrive.

They don’t, unfortunately, at least not until (name) prepares to leave, telling Makino she and Sabu have a few errands to run before returning home; as soon as they are in the open, Sabu sees Shanks and his men approaching down the road, peacefully talking about themselves.

(name) sees them too; a small gasp escapes her lips, and before Sabu can do something to attract the red-haired man’s attention, she had dived behind a nearby cart, hiding them both. 

“Ssh! Stay here, and keep your mouth shut!” she hisses, forced to restrain Sabu and keep him from blowing their cover. 

Peeking through the cart’s wooden planks, they observe the pirates walking past, Shanks leading the others. Sabu can see (name)’s eyes linger on him, but she remains hidden until the Partys door has closed behind them “That was close…”

So it's them she is trying to avoid meeting, not another villager she has had a disagreement with. Sabu reflects on the matter as he accompanies (name) to buy groceries and at the bakery and in the end he comes to believe that she, a woman who has risked her life so many times she has lost count and didn't let anyone, not even the fiercest enemies, intimidate her, is afraid. 

Afraid of being happy again. Of entrusting another crew, and another captain, with her loyalty, her friendship and trust, and having her heart broken again should she lose them. She had been so proud of being part of the Sea-Lion’s crew; and she had told Sabu more than once, as they shared the small space of her bunk, that she wanted that state of things to go on forever: the open sea in front of her, her dearest friend perched on her shoulder, and her captain teaching her to be the best version of herself possible. 

She didn't care about the danger, or the fatigue; she had found the way to live her life that made her the happiest, and she had been happy, while it lasted. The thought of experiencing that joy again, with someone else, must be… scary, in a way; she probably feels guilty just hoping it might happen. Should she actually find a new crew and a new captain to feel at home with, she would probably consider it a betrayal of the memory of the Sea-Lion and his men; and should she not, the disappointment would break her heart. 

(name) misses being a pirate, Sabo knows it well; even if they hadn’t spent so many years together, one only has to notice the fervent look in her eyes when (name)’s gaze falls on the boats moored at the village’s little dock to realise that no matter how pleasant her life in Foosha is, she can’t help wishing for more.

And Sabu wants to give it to her; at least, to give her the opportunity to regain control of her life, and to be happy again. If only he could find a way to make her and the pirates meet…

Over the next weeks Sabu bides his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity. 

(name) has, to his great relief, abandoned her self-imposed exile, going back to frequenting the village as often and freely as she did before, even though Sabu has noticed she takes pain to avoid meeting the pirates; she stays away from the dock, and only visits the Partys in the morning, since Makino has informed her Shanks and his men usually come in the afternoon. It’s obvious that staying away from any member of a thirty-strong crew would be impossible in a village as small as Foosha, but (name) does her best; she hides, turning and pretending to look at something or walking quickly away with her eyes downcast, every time she notices Shanks’ red hair appear ahead, but Sabu can see her stealing a glance once the pirate has passed her by, her eyes lingering on his figure.

Sabu has also started visiting the bar, and the pirates, without (name). The last thing he wants is for her to worry something might have happened to him, so one afternoon she’s busy -not in the fields this time, but helping her older neighbour do the cleaning in her house, since that slacker grandson of mine didn’t show up- he climbs down her shoulder while they’re outside and points insistently in the direction of the village.

(name) seems vaguely surprised, but not disappointed, he wants to go to Foosha by himself. “Alright; just take care of yourself, and come back before sundown.” she recommends, and lets him go.

Those solitary excursions take place every three or four days; Sabu can’t always find someone to give him a lift and walking to Foosha on his own is exhausting, but he soldiers on, aware that he’s doing it for (name)’s sake, and that Shanks always offers him some nuts or another treat every time they meet. The pirates quickly grow fond of him, even carrying him with them around the village or on their ship, which Sabu considers to be as large and powerful as the Sea-Lion’s was. 

“Are you sure it’s alright for you to come here on your own? I don’t want your master -sorry, your friend- to worry that something has happened to you.” Shanks considers one day, sitting at the Partys counter with Sabu -who is sitting on it- near him. 

“Oh, you needn’t worry; she knows.” Makino, as usual busy preparing drinks, informs him “I told her a few days back, and she assured me it’s fine, since Sabu knows his way home.”

The pirate smiles, reassured. “Have I seen this lady here? I’d like to meet her.”

Makino smiles softly; Sabu could bet -well, he couldn’t, since he owns no money, but the principle is the same- she remembers their conversation over tea, and knows (name) is scheduling her visits to the bar, and to the village, specifically to avoid meeting the pirates. “No, I don’t think you’ve ever met her.” she answers innocently; then, after a brief pause: “You would like her, though; she was a pirate as well, once.”

Sabu could cry tears of joy, especially when he notices that last information has caught the attention of the entire crew. “Really?” Shanks asks, openly intrigued “That’s interesting. What ship was she on?”

Makino admits she can’t remember, since (name) rarely talks about her life before her and Sabu’s arrival in Foosha. “She was looking for a place to stay, and found it here. She told me once her crew disbanded after the death of her captain.” 

Shanks smiles softly; Sabu can see melancholy has filled his eyes. “I see.” he murmurs, apparently lost in his own thoughts. Later, as he and his crewmates leave the bar, Sabu tries to invite Shanks to follow him home, so that the pirate can meet (name), but the red-haired man seems not to understand - or maybe he prefers to decline the invitation, whatever the reason might be. 

“You better go now; (name) is probably looking for you.” he says gently, and Sabu can only obey, hurrying towards home, where (name) is waiting for him, exhausted after her day spent working in the fields and assisting her neighbour but satisfied for a job well done.

“I got paid today; next time we go to town we can treat ourselves to something special.” she tells him later as she prepares dinner “What about you? Where have you been?”

Sabu avoids answering; he’s in a bad mood -an uncommon occurrence, given his usually sunny and cheerful attitude- even though he does his best to hide it in order not to worry (name). The more he thinks about it, the more he is sure she and Shanks would immediately hit it off; he would ask her to join his crew, she would accept, and then she would be back where she belongs, at sea, on the bridge of a pirate ship with the wind in her hair. Yes, that’d be amazing… if only they had the chance to meet.

Unfortunately, (name) seems determined to avoid running into the pirates who by now have been in Foosha for a few months, and especially their red-haired captain, even though one day she does shyly asks Makino about him, and on another she reaches the dock to observe their ship, hiding behind an upturned fishing boat. 

“It’s beautiful.” Sabu hears her say admiringly as she observes the imposing vessel with its white sails and dragon figurehead, but when they see a few of the pirates approach she quickly turns to leave carrying Sabu with her, deaf to his protests. 

He has to do something; but what? Since Shanks can’t understand him Sabu has no way to ask him to visit (name) at their home, and (name) seems determined to run in the opposite direction every time she catches a glimpse of red hair under a straw hat, no matter how distant. Sabu is racking his brain searching for a solution, when unexpectedly, the perfect occasion presents itself without him having to do anything to orchestrate it.

(name)’s old neighbour is in relatively good health, but there are a few medicines she needs to take every day. One afternoon, when (name) and Sabu are visiting her to ask whether she needs help with odd jobs or errands -Sabu is quite fond of the old woman, especially since she gifted him a particularly soft pillow on which he likes to nap near the kitchen window, the sun’s rays warming his fur- the neighbour does ask for a favour: her nephew went to the village’s tiny pharmacy for her that morning, but he forgot to take one of the medicines she needs. Could (name) take care of it for her? There’s no rush, since it’s barely early afternoon and the doctor instructed her to take the medicine right before going to bed, but she does need it today, since she took the last of the jar old yesterday. 

(name) is tired after spending most of the day cleaning around the house, not to mention that judging from the dark clouds gathering in the sky it’s going to rain soon, but how could she refuse? “Of course; I’ll go straight away.”

And so they set off, Sabu riding on (name)’s shoulder; rain catches them when they’re halfway to Foosha, and despite the heavy hooded cape (name) has put on by the time they reach their destination they’re both soaking wet. Fortunately the inside of the pharmacy is warm and dry, and (name) gets in line with the other clients.

“Don’t wander away, alright? I don’t want to search for you around the village under this deluge.” she warns Sabo as she gets him down on the floor, and he does his best to look as innocent and obedient as he can. He pretends to looks at the boxes and jars lined on the shelves -most medicines look edible, but he has learnt the hard way they aren’t, since that time he ate a dozen headache pills thinking they were candies and then only (name)’s quick action in calling the ship doctor saved his life- and then, as soon as (name) turns the other way to talk to someone, he scuttles away. 

The Partys is, luckily for him, not far from the pharmacy; it’s the middle of the afternoon and he’s almost sure he’ll find the pirates at their usual table, and they are - save for Shanks, Sabu notices, his heart sinking. A dozen of the men whose names and faces he has learnt to recognise over the last few weeks talk animatedly as they enjoy their drinks, but the captain’s chair is empty. Where is he? Is he busy somewhere else, or simply decided to remain on the ship, whatever the reason? Sabu knows his way to the dock, but the distance would make his plan impossible to implement.

It’s not the end of the world, but Sabu is not sure another occasion like this will ever happen. It’s now or never, but without Shanks there’s nothing he can do; what if the captain hasn’t simply decided to spend the afternoon somewhere else? What if he has left, even if just for a few days, to take care of some errand? The rest of the crew is here and Sabu, who knows more about sailing than any of his kind, doubts even the best pirate can steer a ship by himself, but he might have borrowed a horse, or simply walked to another village…

“Here you are, little one! Are you hungry?”

Relief fills Sabu as he turns and sees Shanks walk to him, a large tankard of beer he must have just taken from the counter in his hands. “Look at you, all wet.” the red-haired pirate murmurs; he places the tankard on the table, and having picked Sabu up he begins rubbing his fur with the end of his cape “On a day like this I’d assumed you would remain at home.”

Due to the rain, Sabu is unpleasantly cold, but his mission takes precedence; he waits until Shanks is distracted in conversation with one of his men, then he quickly climbs on the man’s shoulder, snatches his straw hat, and bolts out of the room.

“Hey, you…!”

Running on his hind legs as his front ones clutch the hat’s hem is not easy, but Shanks’ surprise gives Sabu a few precious seconds advantage, that he uses to cross the street outside the Partys in the direction of what is probably the tallest building in the village, excluding the windmills: the town-hall, that he and (name) visited just once soon after their arrival in Foosha. 

By the time Shanks finds him, Sabu has climbed the red brick wall and is now comfortably perched on the roof, the straw hat safe by his side.

The hat is precious to Shanks; he told Sabu once he had tried playing with it. It’s a gift from a person who is no more, and who I loved very much, the pirate explained. Sabu feels guilty for having stolen his treasure, even though he does intend to give it back; but it’s for Shanks own good, and for (name)’s. 

Because if neither takes the initiative to go meet the other, he will force them.

Soon, Shanks and several of his crewmates, not to mention a few passers-by, have gathered in front of the building, most of them looking up from under their umbrellas. Most people seem amused, but there is growing panic -through not rage- on Shanks’ face as the pirate begs to have his hat returned.

“Sabu, please… give it back, alright? Let’s make a deal; you give me my hat, I’ll buy you nuts! You like nuts, don’t you? And it’s raining! Why don’t you come down, so we can all return inside?”

He even tries climbing the wall himself, but unlike Sabu’s his legs and nails can’t support his weight for the ascent; he remains, helpless, sounding more and more desperate, begging him to return his treasure. Sabu ignores him, but when a seagull comes to perch on the roof near him, and tries pecking on the hat to check its edibleness, Sabu shoos the bird away. 

Finally, someone remembers to have seen (name) at the pharmacy, and goes to get her; a minute later, she is approaching, walking briskly in the direction many fingers point her towards.

“What is happening? Has Saru gotten hurt?” she asks anxiously, and when she finds herself face to face with Shanks she gasps. 

“Hello. You must be (name).” he says, friendly despite the annoyance he must probably feel “I’m sorry to bother you, but your friend has taken something that belongs to me.”

“W-what?”

“Up there. That hat is very precious to me, and he doesn’t want to give it back. Can you please do something?”

Even from the height, Sabu can see the embarrassment colour (name)’s face. “Of course.” she quickly answers, before raising her eyes to meet his “”Sabu! Come down this instant! What in the world are you doing? Return his hat to the captain!”

Sabu does, nimbly climbing down the wall and jumping into (name)’s arms; he sticks the hat on her head, and (name), openly embarrassed, takes it off to offer it to Shanks.

“Thank you so much.”

“Oh, no, please… I’m so sorry for this… I don’t know why he did it, I taught him not to steal…”

Shanks shakes his head as he puts his hat back on. He smiles at (name), who shily reciprocates; she has turned red in the face, no doubt, Sabu thinks, out of embarrassment. “I’m sure he just wanted to play. He’s a very clever little guy.”

“Oh, I know; he can’t speak, but I know he understands every word we say. I’m truly sorry; I should send you to bed without dinner.” (name) adds, lowering her gaze to meet Sabu’s, who grins irreverently in return, well aware that she has never punished him and never will. 

“Oh, no; please, there’s no need to punish him.” Shanks insists “I am Shanks, by the way; they call me Red-hair.” 

“I can see why. I am (name), but this you know already.”

“I do; Makino told me about you.” he smiles “Wait, I think I know you; I saw your wanted poster once. You’re the pirate who stole that classified dossier from a Marine base in the West Blue. You were known as The Kestrel, right?”

The episode happened four years ago; Sabu was the one who stole the key from the base commander’s office, but (name) took care of the half-platoon of Marines who tried to stop her from escaping all on herself. She was pretty proud of her success, almost as proud as she looks now.

“It was me, yes.”

“As I thought; I never forget a pretty face, especially on a wanted poster. And…”

He takes her hand -gently, even though Sabu feels (name) jump at the touch- to turn her arm, exposing the tattoo. “This is the Jolly Roger of Balthazar Dustin.” he readily recognises “The Sea-Lion. You were a member of his crew?”

“Since I was ten, yes; and until he died, three years ago.” 

“I’m sorry for your loss; I know what it feels like.”

“You… lost your captain too?”

“I did; I never met Dustin, but many spoke well of him.”

(name) smiles; hearing the name of her old captain usually makes her sad, but this time is different - Shanks is different, even though Sabu can’t understand why (name) is looking at him as if she had never seen a man before. 

With the emergency over, the crowd has started dispersing; the rain keeps pouring. Neither (name) or Shanks seems to notice.

“You could join my crew if you want.”

“... excuse me?”

“You know, if you missed being at sea; this is a nice place, but after so many years as a pirate I don’t think I could ever feel at ease living on land.” Shanks explains; he smiles, but the conviction in his eyes shows how completely serious he is “I know I can’t replace your old captain; but we’re a good crew, you’d like being one of us.”

(name) bites her lip; she looks vaguely afraid but tempted - hopeful, even, more than Sabu has seen her in the last three years. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know you are a capable pirate; and I like to think I’m a good judge of character.”

“Listen, if you’re simply… trying to sleep with me, I am flattered but…”

“As tempting as it may be, I am not.” Shanks reassures her, which confuses Sabu; why would they want to go to sleep now, in the middle of the afternoon? And there’s no space for another person in (name)’s bed “And of course, your little friend would be welcome as well.”

(name) points out that Sabu knows how to pull his own weight on a ship, as well as around the house; he always has, since eight-year-old her found him in the woods, shivering and scared after he had gotten separated from his family, and brought him back home to nurse him back to health, share her food with him and make him sleep on her pillow. 

“At times I feel he’s a better pirate than I am.” she concludes with a sigh; she’s still smiling. “Let me think about it for a bit, alright?”

“Of course; looks like we’re staying here in Foosha for a while, so you have all the time.”

Shanks grins; even Sabu, who understands nothing about people’s mating affairs, can see the way he is looking at (name), and the way he clearly likes what he sees.

“So… flattered, eh?”

“Oh, shut it…”

They talk for a couple minutes more before setting off towards the bar, walking side by side. Sabu leans towards Shanks and the pirate obligingly scratches his chin. 

“I think he likes me.”

(name) smiles; both she and Sabu know that when one of them grows fond of someone, soon the other does as well. “Do you want to hold him?”

Shanks nods; Sabu accepts the arm the pirate is offering him to comfortably sit down on his shoulder. 

(I personally imagine Sabu as a Panamanian white-faced capuchin monkey, but anyone is free to choose the species they prefer!)

[redcloaklynx]

I think it's insane that the two things we know about Vellioth are so contradictory and that contradiction makes him so compelling. Ok I can't explain this concisely.

...there we go.

[THAT INITIAL COMPELLING CONTRADICTION]

So Vellioth's epithet was "the Martinet" - meaning he was strict and enforced discipline, and yeah that makes sense. We learn of two punishments that Cazador suffered through, and "seeing your friend drained dry because you reached out to them" is pretty standard for what I expect a vampire to do, while the second, "getting impaled for 11 years for executing a failed plan, I don't even care that you were trying to rebel" is, I assume, the harshest punishment Vellioth meted out (Vellioth only lived 72 years! That was at least 1/7th of Cazador's spawnhood!).

On the other hand he was madly laughing when Cazador killed him, when he was melted to his bones and his soul was made into ink and trapped in the palace - how do you reconcile this behaviour with that of a 'strict disciplinarian'? Especially one who got everything to go the way he planned, which included his own very painful death? I can totally accept that his personality was not the stereotype I originally assumed (emotionless militaristic sergeant); that he was plenty expressive, that's awesome and I'm far more interested in his character now actually, but the other part?

If he is a meticulous and successful planner, why did he dedicate his life's work, as an immortal vampire, towards making a successor that carries his legacy but hates him?

Because I do believe Vellioth got everything he wanted, unlike Cazador. So that we're on the same page, here's an entire section to explain why.

[WHY I THINK VELLIOTH SUCCEEDED AT WHATEVER THE HELL HE WAS TRYING TO DO]

Mainly, my reasons are that Vellioth laughed and willingly gave his blood in the rite where he died, that Cazador follows Vellioth's lessons to the letter, and that Vellioth's presence leaves the palace when he feels like it.

For reference, here are Vellioth's lessons:

First lesson: "always to dominate. Allow none to be your equal." The example provided is of Vellioth draining a friend of Cazador dry, after Cazador reached out to them

Second lesson: "power comes from solitude. To share with others is to be weak, and to be weak is to fail... and die." And the juicy part, where Cazador was impaled for 11 years, not because he rebelled, but because he failed at the attempt

Third lesson: "to act not in haste. A near immortal has time to plan, time to act only when others will pay the price of action." Then, when Vellioth deemed Cazador learned his lessons, letting him become a true vampire in a rite where they both laughed

Notice that Cazador follows these better than Vellioth: he doesn't allow any of his spawn to be his equal - to become a true vampire, he's lonely, and he reigns for longer.

Also, in the game, once the player learns these lessons, "Vellioth is no more." After haunting the palace for two centuries. What.

Like in the same room there's a scroll that reads "For my sins, my soul was made ink and written onto this parchment, where its scrawl crawls sleeplessly for eternity - unless you free it." which implies Vellioth was trapped by Cazador, but I don't see why Cazador would make the freeing mechanism "tell some high-wisdom stranger about my past as a slave." That part felt like Vellioth giving one last middle finger to Caz, and choosing to ditch before he witnesses his spawn fail and die to the player. Which means Vellioth had chosen to stay "trapped" in the painful/humiliating display Cazador mounted entirely willingly.

Cazador objectively seems like the more successful vampire, reaching the Ascension that is every vampires' wet dream, but he ends up unhappy (I'm referencing that Detect Thoughts on Cazador in his coffin that reveals he thinks of himself as a monster that will not end, and eternal unlife as a curse). Vellioth, meanwhile; all signs point towards him executing his plans flawlessly, and without regrets. I can only conclude, for some reason, that this is the future he wanted.

[CONCLUSION]

What I'm saying is that Vellioth got what he wanted, but what he wanted doesn't makes any sense. His priorities are out of whack.

Why? Certainly the easy answer, in my opinion, is that he went mad, possibly through Cazador's machinations (how else do you get a vampire lord to willingly give you his blood?). I don't have a better answer - I don't really care about that question, actually. Rather, in conclusion, can I invite you to consider my attempt to compile canon-compliant Vellioth traits?

-> Vellioth doesn't fear death. He doesn't want to live forever. He never liked the benefits of vampirism (never thought of it as a gift), 70 years of unlife was long enough for him, or did Donnella ruin it for him?

-> Vellioth is selfless? Humble? Cautious? According to Astarion, vampires are power-hungry creatures who see all other vampires as competitors. Vellioth doesn't try to make himself known, doesn't try for world domination (as far as we know), and the legacy he leaves is purely in Cazador's name. He is, for some reason, not vain or power-hungry, at least not for himself. (I do doubt that a vampire can be selfless or humble though.)

-> Maybe he sees Cazador's accomplishments as an extension of his own? His lessons sure don't prime Cazador to perpetuate the cycle; he doesn't expect Cazador to have a successor. Maybe he thought Cazador was more likely to complete the Rite of Profane Ascension, and stuck around to see it happen?

okay thanks for reading please don't be too mean if I said something stupid. and a disclaimer: i do not care if your vellioth is not canon compliant. i love reading vellioths that do not at all follow what i have in mind. i analyze canon for fun, i am not trying to police anybody

[vodika-vibes]

Hey! I know he's a bit of a rare clone, but would you consider writing for maze? he's from the repcomm books and is endearingly (Imo) professional and surly 👉👈

Not That Hard

Summary: When one story ends, another one begins. Maze, formerly a Republic Soldier, is now a bounty hunter. He’s used to things being orderly, everything has a place, and everything should be in its place. So when he ends up locked in a small cell with the woman he’s been searching for, a woman who’s been missing for three weeks, he knows that everything is about to be turned on its head.

Pairing: Pre Maze (Alpha-26) x F!Reader

Word Count: 1722

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So, I've never written Maze before, but I'm always happy to write any of the Alphas, or any star wars character. His page on Wookieepedia wasn't the best, but I did the best I could. I hope you like it! Also, I've been watching a lot of Numb3rs, so that's where the basic idea of this came from.

Maze leans back against the stone wall, his gaze drifting from the woman sleeping on the singular cot in the cell to the door, and then back again. He’s glad that she’s asleep. He wasn’t sure that she would fall asleep, honestly.

He leans over and tugs the thin blanket a little higher over her shoulders. The blanket won’t do much to keep the cold out, it’s too thin, but it’s enough that she can sleep.

Three weeks ago the University of Theeds reached out to him, telling him that one of their Teachers had gone missing. They said to him that someone had broken into her home, torn the place to pieces, and taken her.

The University hired him to find her since he was something of an expert on finding people.

The fact that she’s alive is a damned miracle, in his opinion. After three weeks, statistics indicate that he should have found her in a ditch somewhere.

He’s never been so glad to be wrong in his life.

Still, the fact that they haven’t killed her suggests that they want something from her. Maze shifts so that he’s sitting on the cot beside her, tired of sitting on the ground.

He needs to think.

Why would someone want a University Professor?

Absently, Maze brushes a strand of hair off her face as he thinks about what he knows about her.

She’s young, barely brushing 25 years old. She’s an only child. Her mom died from heart disease when she was a child, her dad recently retired to a lake house. There’s no other family.

She’s single, and her only friends are people who work at the University with her. Honestly, it sounds like a lonely life to him, but according to her colleagues and friends, she’s seemed lonely or unhappy.

He can respect that.

Maze’s eyes snap to her face as she releases a quiet noise and shifts on the cot, seemingly to curl into his warmth while also opening her eyes. “You should go back to sleep, Professor. It’s early.” He says quietly.

She sighs and shakes her head, “No point. They’re going to be coming soon.” Slowly, she sits up and shifts so she’s able to press her face against his shoulder. 

“What do they want?” Maze asks, mentally kicking himself for not asking her earlier. But then, her injuries were pretty severe. It makes sense that he would put that aside.

“I’m a Bio-Engineer.” She replies tiredly, “They want me to tell them how to break into BioGen.”

“Why?”

“BioGen’s biggest thing is weaponizing viruses.”

Maze stiffens and his gaze snaps to her face, “BioWeapons are illegal. Even in the Empire.”

“They weaponize them so that they can try and develop cures for them. It’s all legal and above board.” She reassures, “Even in the Empire.”

“Why’d you leave?”

“A Tenured Professorship at the University of Theeds is a great honor, not to mention it pays very well.” She replies, “It made sense, career-wise.”

“Only there’s a lot less security at the University compared to a Biomedical facility.”

She huffs out a laugh, “Yeah, there is that.” She shifts her head slightly, “But this has never happened before. Ever. People leave BioGen all of the time.”

“And you’re the first one kidnapped?”

“That I know of.”

There are heavy footsteps from the hall and Maze shifts so that his body is shielding hers. The door slams open and three men step into the room.

They’re not big men, if Maze were to stand, he’d tower over them. It burns him up that he allowed men like them to capture him so he would be able to find the professor. 

“Professor,” One of the men stalks towards Maze, and he feels her shrink down behind him, “Come on, girl. Are we really going to do this? All you gotta do is give us the information, and then you’ll both go free.”

“Don’t lie. We all know that the moment she tells you what you want to know, you’ll kill her.” Maze growls out.

The man laughs, “Well, it’ll be a quick death, rather than this slow, dragged-out death.”

Behind him, the Professor trembles. 

“Is this all of you? Just three men?”

“We still caught you, clone.” One of the other men sneers, “Grab the Professor—”

The first man reaches to grab the Professor, only for Maze to move, swiftly breaking the man’s arm, and slamming his head against the wall, causing him to crumple to the floor.

“Get low, Professor.” Maze orders as he stands and advances on the two remaining men. He doesn’t wait to see if she’s following his direction, as he suddenly has two furious men to contend with.

Unfortunately for them, he’s an Alpha Class clone, and they’re unarmed.

The fight can’t even be called a proper fight. The two remaining kidnappers go down with several well-placed hits, and Maze tosses them into the cell while motioning for the Professor to join him.

“We’re leaving,” Maze says to the woman as he holds his hand out for her.

Nervously she nods and takes his hand, “Where are we going?”

“Well, it was the University who hired me.” Maze replies as he peeks into the hall, and then leads her out of the cell as soon as he notes that it’s safe.

“Um—”

Maze stops and looks at her, “What’s wrong?”

“Just…did they seem smart enough to come up with this on their own?”

Maze stares at her for a long time, and then he sighs, “No. They didn’t.” He’s quiet for a moment, “Alright, there must be something here to indicate who hired them. Follow me.”

Maze leads abruptly turns down a side hallway and leads her into a much larger room. There are computers, though they seem largely untouched. It looks like the kidnappers were more concerned with the games that were playing on the four holos lined up next to each other than the computers.

There are three couches, each other them surrounded by empty bottles and empty pizza boxes. 

“Well,” Maze notes as he steps around a pile of trash, “Criminal Genuises they are not.”

The Professor peers at a holo-board next to the couches, “It looks like they have a gambling problem.”

“Lucky for us. It means they probably didn’t delete anything.” Maze walks over to the computers, “Stay close, Professor.”

“Ah…Sorry.” She hurries to his side and peeks around him at the monitors.

Maze flashes a small smile at her and then focuses on the computers. “Hey, Professor?”

“Yes?”

“How’d they grab you?”

“I was heading home from a day of classes, and they ran me off the road.” She replies.

“You were driving yourself.”

“Yeah.”

“Does anyone know your route home?”

“I mean, there’s only one road off of the main campus,” She replies, “But I generally don’t know what route I’m taking home until I get in the car. It depends on the traffic and if I need to go grocery shopping.”

“And you didn’t tell anyone your plans for the evening when you were taken?” Maze asks as he scans something on the screen.

“No. No one.”

“It looks like our violent friends were hired by Levi Kelley. At least, that’s who paid them.”

“Levi Kelley?”

“You know him?”

“Yeah, he’s the head of the Biology Department at the University. I thought you said the University hired you?”

“Yeah, the Dean hired me. This Levi person, is he your supervisor?”

“No. I mean, he thinks that he is, but we’re on the same level.”

“Are you friends?”

“I’ve always been a bit…ambivalent towards him. He’s a good teacher, but he’s kind of a terrible person. Racist, sexist, the whole shebang.” 

“And he works at a University?”

“He’s a very good teacher. But he lost his tenure last year.”

“For what?”

“Academic misconduct, according to the rumors.” She leans against his side, exhausted, “The only person who knows the truth would be the Dean.”

“So it’s revenge.” Maze murmurs, “Use you to get an incurable virus, and release it on the school. Did you tell them anything?”

“No, I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”

“They tortured you, Professor. No one would blame you if you did.”

“I’m telling you, I didn’t. I left Biogen two years ago, Maze. I don’t remember any passwords or door codes. And they removed my biometrics from their system on my last day. I swear it.”

“Okay.” Maze lightly pushes some of her hair out of her face, “So they need someone else, a current employee.”

“Yeah, it’s the only way to get inside.”

“Alright. Let’s get out of here and alert the authorities. And get you some medical attention.”

“Yes please.”

Maze lightly presses his hand against the small of her back, guiding her towards the door, “I have one more question, Professor.”

“Go ahead?”

“When my brothers and I were decanted, we were given enhanced aging.”

“Yes, it was the only way for the Kaminoans to get a viable army in 10 years.” She replies.

“Yeah, you think you can reverse it?”

“Reverse it?” She repeats, sounding more thoughtful than surprised. Maze watches as she absently scratches at a deep gash on her cheek, “I don’t know about reversing it,” She finally says, “but I might be able to cure it. With enough blood samples.”

“Really?”

“Well sure, it’s not that hard. It’s just gene manipulation.” She frowns at him thoughtfully, “Look, all the information I need is here,” she lightly taps his chest, “The more of your brothers I can get blood samples from, the easier it’ll be to make a cure.”

“Can you do it at the University while also teaching?”

“I mean, sure. But the University of Theeds is funded by the Emperor. I’m guessing you don’t want the Empire to know about it.”

“No, I don’t.” Maze replies.

She’s quiet for a moment, “Find me a place to work, off of Naboo, and I can help you.”

“If you can cure this, I might just kiss you,” Maze says with a sly smile.

Her face heats and she won’t look at him, “Well, that seems a bit excessive,” She mumbles.

She squeaks when he lightly drapes his arm over her shoulder and tugs her against his side, “No. It isn’t. Come on, Professor. Let’s get you safe.”

[etaleah]

Imagine being Gerald Robotnik. You love your granddaughter so much that you build an entire colony in space just for her so she can have a chance at life. You sanitize it, sterilize it, ensure nothing can get in and make her sick. You live up there with her, sacrificing everything you might have loved on Earth, and stay in the same isolated area for 16-ish years to ensure she’s taken care of. She’s so important to you that you work day and night to create a cure, but it’s so impossible that you have to risk destruction of the entire Earth by getting an alien involved because how else will you create a living being? And sure, it’s dangerous, but it can’t be helped. You love your granddaughter above all else, and you create this life form just for her. Then as a safeguard, you develop a cannon that can destroy the alien comet to ensure the planet she loves so much has at least some form of protection. All of this is long, hard, grueling work.

And then imagine she dies anyway. She dies because of your research. She dies because of your creation, the one that was supposed to save her. She dies because someone you trusted, someone you hired and brought into her life, tipped G.U.N. off about what was going on. She dies in a horrible, painful, agonizing way because you weren’t there to save her.

Imagine being Maria Robotnik. Knowing how hard Grandfather worked for you, how much he sacrificed and made happen for you, how you wouldn’t be here at all if it wasn’t for him. And that means you can never complain. You’re not allowed to be resentful and bitter about being stuck in here, missing your childhood, feeling lonely, isolated, bored. You’re not allowed to be unhappy because how can you make Grandfather feel bad after everything he’s done for you? So you smile. And you tell him how grateful you are. And you hide how much you want to scream and cry and rage.

Imagine being Shadow and seeing all of this firsthand. And probably having so many emotions of your own but bottling them all up because Maria and the professor have enough to deal with.