#when your rival also brings you immense joy

[yin-and-yangyoseob]

[lavenoon]

I’m sorry to bother you but I’m being haunted by the idea that if Robin had pets, it would’ve made the reveal happen so much faster (or maybe because I can’t shut up about my pets)

Or alternatively, the crucial detail that the thing Robin/Y/n is talking about is actually a pet and whichever boy they’re talking to gets progressively more jealous because they think it’s a person. (Personally I can just see Sun finally snapping like ‘WHO is this person??’ And y/n is just like ‘…my pet?? I’ve told you this before?’) (I also think it would make the rival pretty grumpy since I actually refer to my horse as a teammate/partner quite often. I feel like that would irk both Dusk and Dawn)

Apologies for jumping in here randomly and splurging but I had to get it out. I love your writing and your art, both bring me immense joy. I hope you’re doing well!

It's not a bother at all!! I talked about a pets a liiittle bit here, though there the focus was more on if they'd have a pet at all.

Also don't underestimate how stupid they can be, they're the idiot trio for a reason fhjdks

Definitely thinking of like. That one tweet along the lines of "My neighbor told me she overhears my arguments with my boyfriend but I've just been talking to my cat" so it's like. The neighbor being so well-meaning but assuming there's straight up another person living there. The pet has a person name to make things worse, because Y/N is a little shit and also terribly lonely and is somewhat pretending they have a social circle beyond the boys. Feels to embarrassed to admit to the truth.

Pet turns out to be a cat. Sun wants to scream. He was jealous of a cat but knowing it's a cat somehow only made things worse. Moon is questioning his life, realizing that he was grumpy over 1) Y/N liking their neighbor, who is Sun, and 2) Y/N talking about their roommate, who is a pet.

Once they know it's a pet I think they'd be chill with any terms - just don't use the same for them, maybe hfjdsk like a horse can be a partner but don't call them partner right after, when the horse association is still there!

There's also the issue of the vague large city setting, that'd make some pets trickier n some you just. can't hide. A dog needs to be walked, there'd be dog toys in the lawn, many animals are loud or leave some sort of evidence of their existence - so yeah, if Y/N had a pet there'd be a whole new variable to consider!

(It also would really throw a wrench into the "ohh we are so good for long term missions you want to not fire us so bad" argument that keeps them all employed after Nacreous Cloud)

Lots of potential for hilarity, lots of shenanigans, and some complications I am glad to have dodged in canon - but always fun to think about hehe!

[diabolikpersonals]

Tell your 5 top ships in DL .

5 was a tie, I couldn't choose between them, so there's two #5s :')

5: azushin - my rarepair! when other people talk about their rarepair and it has like 50+ fics on ao3 I get jealous because up till recently azushin had exactly 0 xD I love their interactions and I think they're a really good fit for each other. shin's powerful and violent so azusa likes him, but shin, the proud founder himself, gets all freaked out when this measly little halfblooded vampire is around for some reason...! ^^

5 also: ayayuma - I've already talked about it a bit but yeah, it's like a nice little comfort ship to me. I have a lot of sketches of them just hanging out. very very important to my bisexual ayato headcanon

4: reijiruki - reiji's quest for love and approval continues but this time he's pursuing someone he sees as an equal, perhaps even…gasp…a love interest?! I get nothing but immense joy and pleasure watching reiji trip over himself to impress ruki. like he'll invite himself to the mukami house and act like the picture of respectability and authority and he'll be like "I know we just met not that long ago but may I join you for dinner and sleep over at your house and also I got you this gift thats WAY too important and meaningful" and he doesnt even realize that he's being SILLY!!!!! and ruki's reactions make it even funnier bc he's like "??? what the fuck, sure I guess" so it's a great ship lol

3: ayayui - my fav yui ship!!! I love them together!!! I've wept real tears at how much ayato is able to accomplish when he has yui at his side. when you look at a character like ayato and everything he's been through, u can start thinking like "oh his mother's expectations were too high and she traumatized him so much that he can't even do normal things like school assignments anymore" but when ayato enters a relationship with yui and realizes that he wants to do these things FOR HER, he'll end up conquering even the most difficult things for him. it really compels me, because these things (like college or work) dont magically become EASIER for ayato, he just really wants to do them because he loves yui so much, and in the end he's able to do them. they're both so brave and I'm so proud of them. sobs

2: subakou - enemies -> rivals -> best friends -> lovers!!!! they've got a little something for everybody!! subakou have some really nice moments in the games that suggest that they really love each other (play lost eden play lost eden play lost eden) and on twitter kou can flirt with subaru pretty shamelessly, it's awesome lol. like bringing a wheelbarrow of chocolates to him on valentines day. how else am I even supposed to interpret that

1: shuuma - if u took a sample of my blood and put it under a microscope u would see pictures of shu and yuma exchanging a soft and tender fistbump

[geesenoises]

drarry tag game

thank you my darling @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm and @phoebe-delia for tagging me in this fun game. i am not tagging anyone because my brain is too tired after having answered all these questions, and also in a dramatic “my bloodline ends with me!” sort of way. if you read this and do this game pls tag me bc i am the nosiest person. i would like everyone to do this game.

When did you get into Drarry and why? february 22, 2021! i have the tumblr posts to prove it! i was bouncing wildly through fandoms that date back to my teenage years, and ended up in the astolat bermuda triangle, where you lose all sense of time and reality and come out with a new ship.

Which Drarry fic hooked you? i started with house proud, which i’d actually read years ago and it didn’t stick. i think by the time i got to slithering, it was pretty inevitable that i was just going to keep going. but i think it was firethesound’s fic that really hooked me! there’s just something about the way they characterize the boys that really works for me.

Top three favorite Drarry fics i mean, there’s so so many? and more every day? but ok, here’s the way i put it in my head: if i were to only have access to three drarry fics for the rest of my life which would i go with?

far from the tree by aideomai

away childish things by lettered

stop all the clocks (this is the last time i’m leaving without you) by firethesound

but there’s soooo many more that i love. and tbh, i would hate to never be able to read stop all the clocks again, but i actually cannot bring myself to read it much because it’s, uh, very a lot.

(read more bc this game is very long and i feel immense guilt about long posts!!!)

Why can’t you quit them? the honest truth is that i’m a very fickle hearted girl who flits from shiny thing to shiny thing. that being said, drarry has such an intense amount of incredible new fic coming out all the time. i’m being kept very occupied! and the other (more important!!) thing is what a kind and welcoming community there is in drarry fandom. i like hanging out with you.

Would you rather be friends with Harry or Draco? i’m just gonna steal joy’s answer, because it also applies to me and sent me down a self-reflection spiral: “my immediate response? draco, because i feel like we have more in common. my real response? harry, because we actually have more in common”

Who breaks your heart more often? probably draco! i think more often, down and out draco is written because narratively, he does need to be taken down a few pegs for things to work out. so it’s sad to see him in a bad place! and then with harry, he’s often written as being kind of oblivious or in denial about how miserable he is post-war, so the heartbreak and the narrative are a little out of sync? does that make sense? but also! when harry is in a bad way, there’s always a sense that things will work out for him, because he has people who love him and a society that supports him. but there’s not always that guarantee for draco.

Ideal career for Harry? For Draco? i really do love harry who’s just kind of wealthy and relaxed. he indulges in home renovation, picks up some hobbies, does charity work, and hangs out with people. is this because this is my ideal life? maybe so.

draco, i like being kind of a swot, in a smart thinky job. i really enjoy unspeakable malfoy! especially when he’s co-workers with hermione. but any job where he can be a persnickety little weirdo is good.

Harry and Draco are being sent to a desert island for a week with plenty of food and water. Each is allowed to bring three additional items (no wands). What do they bring?

Harry: a broom, a snitch, a camera Draco: a broom, sunblock, a book

Favorite non-Drarry HP character?

luna, ginny, and pansy

If you had to pick one, enemies to lovers or (enemies to) friends to lovers? i’m an enemies/rivals to lovers bitch. i did a mental review of my shipping history, and pretty much every single one dating back to being like 10 or 11 years old was enemies or rivals to lovers. even my first hp ship was draco/ginny, which is kind of the hetero version of drarry???

Would you rather read a fic that made you laugh or one that made you cry?

cry? hmmmm. i am thinking now, and this is the opposite to my taste in tv/movies. i think it’s because even with fic that makes you cry, very often there is a soft place to land afterwards even if not in the single fic itself, then in finding another story to read (i’m in a hurt/comfort relationship with fic i guess). but in original media, there’s no guarantee of that.

Three songs that scream Drarry to you (feel free to include the Drarry-est lyrics!):

Head on Fire - Griff and Sigrid

I think I'm losing my mind Over here, over you, every night Both hands holding on to the wire Impossible fight Over here, without you, every night Sittin' here with my head on fire

Don’t Let the Neighbourhood Hear - Oh Wonder (so this is a song about a relationship in crisis/potential breakup, and so this would make an excellent breakup song for drarry. i only quoted the first verse here and somehow it just gets more drarry and even worse from here!!!)

What if I never told you my name? What if we hadn't leaned in to touch? What if my life didn't end up this way? Would I be set on fire? What if I could be someone you love? Would I be happy now?

and my third song is not my actual wireless song itself, but saying it and putting the lyrics here would still probably give it away so we can talk after wireless reveals or if i drop out 😂 (lmao sorry this makes it seem like i don’t know any other songs. as soon as i am asked questions like this every piece of music i’ve ever heard flies right out of my head!!)

Favorite authors outside of fic? my dirty secret is that i’m actually very poorly read outside of fic these days. ask again in 12-18 months. but here are a few: tamora pierce books are a comfort read from childhood that i still sometimes pull out these days. same with garth nix’s abhorsen books. i skipped a lot of first period classes in high school to read haruki murakami books on the floor of a bookstore. more recently, i’ve loved the essay collections of alexander chee and jia tolentino. (and just generally, i am obsessed with jia tolentino and her work)

[forthehpfanboys]

Bloody Knuckles and Sunshine

Pair: Harry Potter x Reader; he/him.

Summary: Harry loved his ball of sunshine and will do anything, including throwing hands at a dude a head taller than him, to protect it from harm.

Warnings: Mention of the f slur, Fighting, fluffy tho, also small homophobiaaaa

Notes: I loved this, dang-it. Hufflepuff reader!

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

-

Harry put a finger to his lips, signaling to be quiet. He smirked when he saw your friend's eyes light up with mischief and silently agreed. He slowly inched forward, waiting until he was all but pressed against your back. He lunged forward, covering your eyes before whispering ‘guess who?’ in your ear.

He let out a laugh when you screamed successfully catching the attention of everyone in the dining hall. He pulled his hands away only to wrap them around your waist, watching how your face melted into a color to rival a strawberry. He laughed harder when you pulled your hood up to hide your blush. 

“Harry, you jerk!” You squeaked out while your friends snickered into their hands. “That wasn’t funny!”

“Aw, I’m sorry, love. You’re right, I’m a big meanie.” He said between chuckles, kissing your hood covered cheek. He laughed louder when you slapped his arm. “How is my favorite ray of sunshine doing this evening?” Harry took any opportunity he could to see you blush and it was quite easy to do, especially with such a soft nickname that fit you perfectly. Seriously, you’re smile lit up entire rooms and Harry levied for it. 

“Well, I was telling Cedric about this kneazle kit I found out by the bushes yesterday but now I wanna melt into the black lake and never come back.” You grumbled, slowly pulling your hood down when you were sure the attention and blush had faded. You smiled when Harry responded with a fake gasp of shock.

“And you didn’t tell me? After being your boyfriend for three months?”

“Three and a half-”

“That’s even worse!” Harry pouted at you, cheering internally when he managed to make you blush just the slightest. 

Truth be told, you’d been dating the wonder boy for 3.5 months and it all started because you’d bumped into him one random day. You’d apologized so quietly and swiftly, he nearly missed your American accent. He told you it was alright and you ran off before he could get a name. He ended up seeing you later that day, during dinner at the dining hall. They did a quick welcome ceremony for you before sorting you with the hat. Harry was practically leaping for joy when you were put in Hufflepuff. He was just grateful at the time to not have to deal with another Slytherin who’d judge people for something as simple as blood status. 

While you were quiet and shy and reserved and just overall the softest human Harry had ever met, he tried to talk to you whenever he could. He managed to break your shell a little bit each day, slowly spending more time with you and introducing you to his friends. 

You’d study with Hermione and help her tutor the other two dorks in the group. You’d play wizard's chess with Ron where most games end in a tie, but ever so often you would beat him, as would he. Long story short, his friends love you and at this point, Harry was loving you too, just a little differently. He wanted to hold you at night and fall asleep in your arms. He wanted to bake your favorite cookies just to see you smile. He wanted to see your bright eyes reflect the stars so badly.

So one day he did it. He asked you on a date in the middle of one of your chess games with Ron, leading to Ron winning because you were far too distracted by the males request. You did end up saying yes though, which rocked his hard harder than anything else. 

He took you to Hogsmeade, obviously. He showed you the shops, since this was the first time you’d been. He introduced you to the lovely world of Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks. One date led to another, then another, then another, until it was literally a weekly thing. He saved Friday after school for you and only you. It was, actually, really cute. 

At every month milestone of you two being official boyfriends, he’d try to do something immensely special. In the first month, he took you out on the quidditch brooms for a night ride out. You gazed at the sky together, watched the sun set and returned to cuddle in his arms in the common room of Gryffindor tower. Second month, the two of you went adventuring in the Forbidden Forest, with Hagrid low-key third wheeling to make sure you were safe, then a cute picnic by the Black Lake. This month, he’d snuck you into the Shrieking Shack just so you’d get scared and confide in him. It was terrifying, but he made up for it with snuggles and treats swiped from the kitchen after hours. You were excited to see what month four had coming.

“Oh, stop. You’re acting like a big baby.” You giggled out, leaning over to kiss his shoulder. You waved your friends off when they faked a few gags. “What brings ya over here, anyway?”

“What? I can’t see my ball of sunshine? I’m hurt, (Y/n)! You wound me!” Harry scoffed, placing a hand over his chest as if his heart had shattered like a mirror. He looked around at your friends when they all grew quiet. “..What?”

“You usually only come over here to tease him or because someone specific and blonde was staring at him from across the room.” Cedric spoke up, his eyebrows cocked up while Harry’s furrowed in confusion.

“What? Do I?” Harry turned to you, his eyes shining with worry. You bit down on your lip before slowly nodding your head. You spoke up quickly when he let out a pain filled groan.

“But that’s ok because I get to see you in herbology, potions and astronomy!” You waved your hands, trying to show it really wasn’t a big deal. It really wasn’t! You got to see him a lot and understood he couldn’t be with you 24/7 and that his friends wanted his attention too, so it was fine. 

“I’ll do better.”

“What? Harry, no! Love, you’re fine!” You squeaked out, cupping his cheek gently. “Honestly, it’s ok.” You pulled your hand away when he swung one leg over the bench to straddle it next to you. 

“Are you sure?” Harry stared into your eyes, basically scanning your soul for lies like a bar code. You nodded your head again, planting a soft kiss on his nose. “Ok..” He smiled, pulling you to him before planting his own peck against your lips. 

He only pulled back when someone chose to shout a specific f slur across the room. The raven haired male didn’t hesitate to stand up. His eyes were scanning across the now quiet dining hall.

“Who said it?” Harry’s voice was not filled with sweetness. It was filled to the brim with venom and it only became more obvious when no one spoke up. “Oh, come on now! You weren’t scared to shout before! Don’t be shy now!” 

Neither you nor Harry batted an eye when McLaggen stood up. The blonde bimbo had been anything but pleasant toward you when you made your relationship public. 

“I’m just saying what we’re all thinking, Harry.” McLaggen’s cocky voice spoke up as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. Cormac’s cockiness faded when McGonagall began spouting about intolerable language in Hogwarts and how that word was one of the many students should know better than to say. While the Gryffindor headmaster was going off, Harry didn’t hesitate to walk around the table, despite your protests, and punch the bloke square in the jaw.

You jumped up from your seat just as Cormac’s behind hit the floor of the dining hall. Harry  followed the bloke to the ground, deciding to bruise his ego and pretty face further. Upon order of McGonagall, the twins and Lee jumped up, separating Harry and McLaggen. Fred held Harry back while George and Jordan carried the idiot out of the hall. 

Once Harry stropped squirming, Fred let go, allowing you to scurry over and grab his hands. You also dragged him out of the dining hall much to McGonagall’s disliking, but went in the opposite direction as the quidditch players. You took him to the courtyard, setting him down on a step before kneeling in front of him. 

“Harry.” You spoke up, looking down at his right hands knuckles, that were covered in blood. “Come on, babe.” You whispered out, your heart cracking at the sight of your love hurt.

“I know..” Harry grumbled, his eyes also staring at the red liquid coming from his knuckles. 

“So, why do you keep fighting? Words can sting just as much as a punch.” You spoke up, reaching into Harry’s robe and pulling his wand out of the pocket. You transfigured a handful of leaves into a roll of bandages before shoving the wand into Harry’s not bloody hand and started wrapping up his knuckles.

“Because you’re too soft on people.” Harry looked down at his knees, his hands coming to his sides to rest against the stone. He started drawing a pathetic portrait of the two of you sitting at some.. Beach? Maybe it was grass. Poor babe couldn’t draw that well.

“Hun, people have reasons behind the things they say and do..” You rested a hand against his shoulder. He looked up from his drawing in the dirt to gaze up at you, his eyes big and innocent even after a fight.

“I know..” He grumbled again. “But he deserved it this time, babe, you know he did. If it wasn’t me, it’d be Cedirc or Ron for Merlin’s sake.” 

“I know..” You sat down next to the raven haired male, pulling him to your side and letting him lean his head against your shoulder. “I’m not mad, ya know? It.. It was nice.” You bit your lip. Harry knows that hesitation. His eyes snapped up to yours, noting the soft blush across your cheeks.

“Oh, really, sunshine? You like it when I play knight?” He wiggled his eyebrows, smirking a little when your soft pink cheeks turned brighter in hue.

“May-.. No, I’m not giving you a reason to keep getting bloody knuckles.” You shook your head, gazing across the courtyard.

“Oooh, you do like it when I play knight!”

“Harry, no.”

“Harry yes!”

“Harry, no!” You shouted, your voice slightly sterner. Harry wasn’t used to you being so stern or loud, it was kinda scary. “Do not get into more fights just to fluster me.” Your shy demeanor came back ten fold, causing him to smirk wider.

“Of course not! Why would I do that, sunshine?” Harry snickered, his arms wrapping around your waist and kissing the base of your neck. He wasn’t going to bring up every year he managed to find himself in literal life or death situations or the fact that he was most likely going to be defending you again.

“Because your Harry Potter and ‘I-Fight-Homophobs’ really should be your middle name.” You smiled, praying he didn’t notice how hot your body had gotten from the heat. He let out a final laugh, his lips planting a big kiss to your cheek. “Harry, seriously, though. No more fights. It’s scary.”

“No, I know! Whatever you say.”

“I’m serious!”

“No, I know!”

“Then where are you going?”

“To finish what I started! Just five minutes, sunshine. Just five, I promise!”

“Harry, no!”

[klstheword]

I’m Your Man

PRESS QUOTES

“Immensely enjoyable, intriguing and complex.”“The film has an arthouse breakout potential, which might rival that of the similarly female-led German comedy Toni Erdman.”“Astute casting, of which the German-fluent Stevens is a stand out, will be a key selling point.” Screen International “Maria Schrader makes a witty, thought-provoking return to features in this fusion of science fiction and modern romance.”“Schrader's beguiling Berlinale competition entry could cultivate a substantial audience in international art houses — abetted by the rising profile of its helmer -fresh from her Emmy win for Netflix's 'Unorthodox' - and the canny casting of British heartthrob Dan Stevens as a boyfriend entirely too good to be human.”“Stevens is a wry revelation, progressing from rigid, unworldly physical comedy to near-living, breathing emotional turmoil, programmed or otherwise.”"Eggert's flinty firmness and Stevens' buttery elegance prove ideally mismatched from the off — their performances gradually compromise and meet in the middle, borrowing a little of each other's suaveness and steel along the way." Variety “There's no doubt about it, it's all in the eyes: an ice-blue stare, locked on you, promising satisfaction and loyalty without asking for anything in return. That's what love is, and Dan Stevens is the humanoid robot here to give it to us.”“German actress Maria Schrader returns to directing for her third feature, undoubtedly her most well-rounded, exciting work yet.”“The script, co-written by Jan Schomburg, is what catapults I'm Your Man beyond comparison, into something diamond-sharp – witty, hopeful, wry, sincere, and sly all at once.”“Schrader's thoughtful romantic study digs into mundane neuroses and existential fears with wisdom, and empathy, making sure to keep you guessing long after Alma and Tom have stopped gazing into each other's eyes. Romantic yet level-headed, charming but always clear-eyed.” The Playlist “When the odd couple begins to cohabit, the robot is a catalyst for self-reflection and self-doubt in this comedy-drama that's as thought-provoking as it is funny.”“Schrader draws sharp character comedy out of the premise, aided by terrific performances.” “British actor Dan Stevens — speaking fluent German with an English accent — is a consistently amusing physical performer, while Toni Erdmann star Sandra Hüller puts in an enjoyable turn as his handler. But Eggert is the star of this show. She communicates Alma's exasperation, frustration and soul-searching in a way that delicately balances comedy and drama.”“The female lead gives the story more than just a fresh spin. It's a chance to ponder on the psychology of attraction from the perspective of a professional woman with a complex interior life, free from the testosterone that drives many examples in the genre. And in an age of isolation, social media and online dating, I'm Your Man seems startlingly relevant.” Deadline “Dan Stevens is a soulful robot in winsome romance from ‘Unorthodox' director.”“Eggert, whose stern, tired expression eventually gives way to the deep sorrow beneath the surface, grounds the character's transition into credible emotion.”“The movie's thematic trajectory crystallizes in a bittersweet third act, as a series of poetic moments draw the story back to the roots of Alma's struggles, and suggest that no perfect code can solve her problems when the best antidote is her own ability to talk them through.” IndieWire “A gorgeous romantic comedy that explores ever deeper questions as the plot progresses.” Blickpunkt Film “Delightful.”“Tom is perfectly cast, as Stevens narrowly borders on the threshold of uncanny valley with perfect timing and body language. His stilted posture, swift movements, and uncomfortable stares also add a level of subtle connotation to the illusion of artificial intelligence.”“I'm Your Man is an energetic recount on the cycles of modern love.” Filmhounds “Dan Stevens is as perfect as can be in the role. Not only is his German perfect, but so are his mannerisms, his quirky robot tics, and his inability to act and feel human. It's not an over-the-top comedic performance, but Dan Stevens brings just the right amount of subtle "I am a robot" humor to the role that it made me burst out laughing multiple times.”“It's a light and easily enjoyable film to watch, with a lovely piano-based score and gorgeous shots of Berlin.”“Directed by Maria Schrader, I'm Your Man is a charming, entertaining sci-fi romance with superb performances and a smart story about the grand complexity of love.” First Showing *****“Slick, sophisticated and satisfying this dating movie with a difference sees things from a distinctly female perspective exploring love and desire in a scenario may remind you of another recent German comedy Toni Erdmann which also starred Sandra Huller as a put-upon professional.” “Maria Schrader directs with supreme confidence adapting her script from a book by Emma Braslavsky, and adding a suggestive cinematic spin to her intuitive grasp of the subtle dynamics of love and dating, and the chemistry behind acting, in a film that reflects the reality that love relies just as much on the lows as the highs to be emotionally fulfilling for the human psyche.”“Maren Eggert is superb as the thinking woman's love interest in a performance that is fraught with emotion as well as thoughtful dignity, never resorting to histrionics or melodrama.”“Benedict Neuenfels makes this a pleasure to look at with his lush summery landscapes of Germany and Denmark.”“But the film belongs to Dan Stevens who gives a nuanced performance in a difficult role as a robot that teeters between the ideal emotionally intelligent man and a geeky robotic guy you may even and have dated yourself and eventually grown to love – and even fancy – for his truly masculine take on life.” Filmuforia "Maren Eggert inhabits Alma in a way that's so persuasive and naturalistic it barely feels like a performance at all." The Hollywood Reporter "With the energy of a studio era leading lady from the 1940s or 1980s, Eggert effortlessly succeeds and invigorates as an intelligent woman who also exudes an intoxicating confidence." IONCINEMA "Eggert plays her with a brusque, self-possessed wit that may remind some viewers of Greta Gerwig…" "Sensationally funny and gently science-fictional the film's embrace of uncertainty calls to mind Toni Erdmann." The Telegraph, UK "Eggert plays this tug of war with compelling subtlety, leading with her apprehension but flowering emotionally in brief glimpses of unfamiliar joy, too." "It's in the tiny glances that catch you off guard, the rush of adrenaline and pleasure that you thought only belonged in fairytales that suddenly color your world a little bit warmer and the script catapults “I'm Your Man” beyond comparison, into something diamond-sharp – witty, hopeful, wry, sincere, and sly all at once." The Playlist "A beautifully different, breezy yet poignant love story that is nevertheless full of deep truths." Berliner Morgenpost "Like a successful flirtation, no scene, no gesture is without meaning, and there is always something to laugh about." Süddeutsche Zeitung "It is a mind game that tells of the all too human with wit and charm. Ingeniously, this film questions our very real relationship patterns, holds up a mirror to us humans. An artifice that turns the tables for once and turns the man into an object, completely attuned to female needs." Heute journal "An abysmally funny commentary on contemporary life in the midst of algorithms." taz "The fine dialogue and the great ensemble should fulfil the dreams of 74 percent of all cinema-goers." Spiegel Online "Eggert grounds the character's transition into credible emotion." IndieWire

[cakejots]

this is us trying, Chapter 3 - The Decision

In this AU, they don’t know each other outside of the suit. And in this AU, Ladybug and Chat Noir love each other. But in this AU, Chat doesn’t want their identities revealed.

Written for @ladynoirjuly 2021

notes: this is a coherent story based on all the prompts; each chapter contains at least 3 prompts

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10

Read on AO3

8. Admiration

Ladybug shifted from her spot at the top of Notre Dame’s North Tower, awaiting Chat’s arrival. The time it took to get in contact with him again wasn’t very long, but it was longer than the intervals between their dates. She understood that he has his own life to live, and sometimes, their schedules just really couldn’t match up. But for this time, in particular, she couldn’t help but feel that he was avoiding her.

Was it really a coincidence that he got especially busy right after he left her alone on that rooftop? She didn’t know.

Even though Ladybug had arrived 15 minutes earlier, she had that irrational fear that he wouldn’t turn up. She knew Chat wasn't like that, he always keeps his word. But she couldn’t help it, the possibility that their relationship could take a turn for the worse frightened her.

Luckily, before her thoughts could spiral out of control, Chat landed a few metres away from her.

Relief flooded her chest as Chat slowly stood from his crouched position. She was about to run over and throw her arms around him when his words stopped her.

“I’m really sorry for what I’ve done that day.” Chat wasn’t at his full height, his body posture was humbled and he was rubbing his hands.

“What I did was horrible, and I’ve no excuse for the way I treated you that day.” He had his head lowered and his eyes glimpsed at her ever so often, to see if she was listening to him. “I understand if you want to walk away, I just hope you’ll forgive me.”

Her eyes harden, posture standing even taller than before. Ladybug eyed him. This was the second time he had talked about her leaving him.

“I’m not going to walk away, Chat.” Her eyes softened as he flinched from her sudden rush of words. “But I’ll be lying if I said that didn’t hurt. I just want to know why it happened.”

Tears filled his green eyes as he fixed them on hers. His face held a sombre expression, as though it physically hurt him to be saying those next words.

“My lady,” he pleaded with a voice thick of desperation. “Forgive me, I promise I’ll tell you one day. Just… I can’t— not now…”

Ladybug sighed.

“Please know that,” he quickly rushed to her and embraced her tightly. “I didn’t regret giving you that kiss! Never.”

Ladybug raised her arms and tightened her grip on him as he trembled.

“Thank you for your assurance, Chaton.” She pulled back and surveyed his face. “I’m aware that this is a bit insensitive, but could you wait here for 5 minutes? I’m just going to get some stuff.”

Chat grew uneasy. To be alone on a cool night? He was reasonably unsettled, especially after what had confronted him just moments ago. Ladybug said she wouldn’t walk away, but now she’s asking him to stay here? How could he not be worried?

“Just 5 minutes,” her fingers grazed his face. “I promise you’ll enjoy our date even more after I bring those things here.”

He should trust her. He knows he could trust her. After all, she had said she wouldn't leave. It happened once, it can happen again.

“We can call each other while I’m—“

“It’s okay, my lady.” He pulled back and smiled. “I’ll see you in 5 minutes.”

Ladybug wasn’t convinced that he’s okay, but she gave him a peck on the cheek to ease his doubts. “I’ll be back before you know it!”

And true to her words, she came back in 3 minutes, with two pillows, a thick blanket, and a laptop in her arms.

Chat eyed them quizzingly.

“We, are going to get comfortable and watch montages of ourselves!” She sat beside him, the Ladyblog web page now visible on her screen. “Looking at how awesome we were would give us that extra endorphins boost, don't you think?”

“We are still awesome now, what are you saying?” He wrapped the blanket around them.

She giggled. “We should do some parkour sometimes.”

Bundled up in blankets with their limbs tangled, they sat there watching the best moments they had while battling Akumas, fondness for themselves and for the other clear on their faces.

Ladybug has always been like this, trying to solve whatever issues that arise. It’s how they’ve won battle after battle. Even after the threat is gone, she’s still trying to salvage the situation, no matter how small it is in the grand scheme of things.

Chat was immensely grateful for what she had done tonight. The videos had really calmed his nerves and brought back all those euphoric memories he once had. The reason why he was doing this in the first place. The joy his lady had brought to him whenever he spent time with her. The love and admiration he felt for her as she stood up against Hawkmoth on their first day as superheroes, despite Ladybug believing that she wasn’t suited for her calling.

The love…

He tightened his hold around her.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just mesmerised by how cool we are.”

How could he have forgotten? How miraculously amazing she was. No. She still is, up till this very day. Even after 6 years. Even after he denied her what she wanted most following Shadowmoth’s defeat. Even after what he’s done to their relationship. She never walked away from him, and is still trying to rectify the situation.

He wasn’t making it easy for her, even though it should’ve been after the final battle. It’s really unfair to her.

And yet, she’s still here, she still chose to stick with him.

This can’t go on.

He took hold of her hand and brought it to his lips. “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

9. Cinema

“Come on, come on, come on, we’re gonna be late!” Chat hurriedly pushed her into the cinema, worried that they wouldn't make it to showtime.

“Wasn’t that 5-hour binge-watch enough?” Ladybug was obviously excited about the movie, but she couldn’t allow him the satisfaction so easily.

“Of course not! This is the sequel to the series!” He continued pushing as if there’s nothing entirely wrong with his behaviour.

“And we’re heading to a cinema now. Didn’t you say you wanted us to be as discreet as possible?” She raised her eyebrow despite Chat not being able to see her face.

“Yeah, but it’s the premiere today! We won’t be able to watch it on the laptop.” They stopped at the cinema hall entrance and Chat scanned his ticket for the seat number before he continued pushing. “Also, watching in a cinema after hours of watching from a smaller screen is just a different experience, no?”

They finally arrived at the row where their seats were, but he continued resting his hands on her shoulder, guiding her to her seat before finally letting her go. “Besides, Parisians won’t kick us out after the ‘patrol’ stun we pulled.”

She rolled her eyes. “I mean we did do our job when something happened.”

Although animated films are popular in France, this particular one didn’t attract as many audiences as those action-packed animated films, which was a blessing and a curse because they would be able to get away with minimal attention on them, but also so many people are missing out on this greatness.

“Anyway, do you think we’ll cry again?” She rubbed her tear-stained eyes, “I don’t think I’ve any liquid left in me for that.”

“Nonsense, there’s definitely more in you,” he cupped her cheeks to have a better look at her. “And you still look so pretty even after all that crying.”

“Oh, quite the sadist, aren’t you? Does my crying bring you joy?”

“Come on, Buguinette, you can’t deny it was phenomenal.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It is phenomenal. But couldn’t we spread it out even more? The watch time on that series I mean.”

“I… I won’t have time for the rest of the week,” his smile fell as his hands caressed her cheeks. “I’m really sorry.”

“No wonder you wanted to spend the whole day today,” she teased. “Well, no worries about it! I love spending time with you.”

He moved his hand to hers and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “Thank you, my lady.”

And that’s when the lights started dimming. They relaxed into their respective seats, but not without interlacing their hands together.

The movie, of course, had delivered what the series had set out to do. The cinema was filled with sniffles and sobs and Ladybug and Chat Noir were certainly not spared from the experience. They were tearing like they had been all afternoon, the only difference was that they weren’t able to hold the other as tightly as they would’ve liked due to the armrest in between them.

And they didn’t realise the importance of tissues until that night. They had to go to the toilet to clean their face and clear their noses before continuing with other plans they had had for the night.

10. Moonlight

As they left the establishment, they were surprised to see how the gleaming of the silver orb that hung in the sky rivalled that of The City of Light.

Chat proposed spending the rest of the night at the top of the Eiffel Tower, given that it has been a while since they were there. And immediately regretted that suggestion when he remembered that their last memories of the Eiffel Tower were of him expressing his wishes to hold off the reveal right after the final battle.

But Ladybug eagerly agreed and was already well on her way. He had no choice but to follow through.

When he arrived, he was awestruck by the moon. He has—

“—never seen the moon this big! Wow!” Ladybug proclaimed as she took in the moon in all its beauty.

She was captivated by the glamour of the moon, but to Chat, it seemed as though she was basking in the moonlight. Her suit gave off a shimmering red glow not often seen and her dark hair looked midnight blue under it. Her back was towards him, but as she turned around to move towards the spot next to him, he felt his own heartbeat quickened. The brilliance of her blue orbs awed him, they were of a pigment he had never seen before in her eyes.

“Wow indeed.”

They moved to sit side by side on the edge and took in the view of the moon and of the city. Did they really enjoy this view of the city weekly before? Has it always been this beautiful?

“You know,” Ladybug started, breaking the silence. “I’m really glad he chose what he did in the end.”

“Yeah, they finally got together.”

She peered upwards. “It wasn’t an easy journey, but I’m so satisfied with that ending. I’m sure everyone was crying tears of joy too.”

That animated series as a whole was about conveying your feelings to the ones you love. Which he did, a lot. He was never one to shy away from declaring his love for her. But why did everything change after the final battle? Why did he change after the final battle?

His heart must’ve been tired of what his brain was trying to reason about, and thus led him to pick this series to watch, and eventually the movie. All the answers were there.

He knew his lady well enough and was certain that she wouldn't walk away. She has proved that time and time again.

So what was preventing him from being with her, when he very much desired to have a happy ending with her as well?

In some ways, his current predicament was similar to Gilbert’s. He was afraid. He was afraid that she’ll abandon him after she found out who he really was, and what he’s done.

But…

Chat looked over to see Ladybug moonbathing and enjoying the light breeze. Was it too much to hope for a happy ending himself? He knew damn well how Violet felt throughout the whole ordeal of trying to get Gilbert back by her side. Did he really want his lady to end up that way eventually, when he had the ability to prevent that?

No. That’s too brutal. The world was already cruel to him. But if he could prevent that cruelty and enable her to witness how beautiful life can be, how pleasant she had made life for him, he’d do it.

“Chaton?”

Those eyes that looked at him as though he hung the stars in her sky. Those wide blue eyes that never gave up on him despite his failure to give her what she wanted most. Those worried, concerned eyes, so full of love.

He was choked up with emotions.

“I love you.”

Ladybug inhaled sharply and stared at him unblinking, unsure if she misheard those words.

She reached out to him slowly. “Can… Can you say that again?”

“I love you.” He took her hand and squeezed it, leaning in to press his warm lips against her cheek.

He pulled back to see tears in the corner of her eyes.

“My lady?”

She still stared at him as her tears started to trickle down her face.

His hands flew to her face. “My—”

Ladybug threw her arms around him with such vitality that they toppled over. “I love you too!”

He pulled her in to close any gaps between them, so very glad that she still felt the same despite all that has happened. She planted a heartwarming kiss on his cheek as Chat landed on his back.

They basked in each other’s warmth and presence. He stroked her hair and she melted into him, happy tears flowing as her kitty was starting to declare his love for her again, verbally.

“My lady, can we meet up again tomorrow?”

“I thought you said you were busy?” She giggled.

“I did,” he grinned. “But who said anything about meeting during the hours of the day?”

[cyberfairyblog]

Why Jillian Sucks

Hi, welcome to Odyssey Mystery Hour! I'm your host @gritsandbrits and today I'll be talking about a hot topic in the AIO fandom! Wanna know the tea? Keep on reading!

In the weeks I started getting back into the radio series, the newer episodes have started to irk me, mostly because of one of the more annoying additions: Jillian. Marshall. 😬😬😬

Even though I ship Jason with my self insert OC this not going to be about her. There's a lot of reasons why I do NOT like the idea of Jillian x Jason becoming a canon thing on the show. I hope to describe these feelings as best I can.

Who is Jillian you might ask?

Well to put it simply, Jillian is what happens when a Soccer Mom and a TikTok boyfriend mate and spawn an unholy baby and name them Rachel Berry. Out of the aspects of Nu!Odyssey I dislike, Jillian is the one thing I truly despise. Thankfully I've met fans who share the exact sentiment! 😁😒

Double-N Annoying, Double-O Nincompoop

Making her debut in 2018, Jillian is described as lively and upbeat, if a little high strung and immature; the perfect recipe for Kid Appeal! Before she moved to Odyssey she lived in different cities and worked nineteen jobs before becoming roommates with Connie and her sister Jules.

Now this is actually a fairly interesting set up: a new character struggling to find purpose only to discover it in a quaint small town. But as it turns out her going through that many jobs seems to be more than just struggling to find purpose.

When I first saw her design my thought immediately went to the smarmy classmates I went to school with.

We're introduced with this iconic line: "Hi!! I'm Jillian Marshall, double-L Jillian, double-L Marshall! It's so nice to meet you!"

With that one sentence I knew I was about to die.

The following episode has Jillian bumbling through every job interview much to Connie's duress after which she conveniently ending up working at Triple J Antiques...the same place Jason works!

A little backstory on Jason: he is the adult son of John Whittaker, one of the show's main character, and a bit of an Ensemble Darkhorse. He was introduced as a secret agent meant to bring action and intrigue into the show. He was set up as a charismatic and reckless sort of guy clashing with the calmer Jack Allen. After the Green Ring Conspiracy Saga, Jason officially retired from James Bonding and settled down to work at the Allen's antique shop.

Given his immense popularity there's understandable concern for how he is written and who he gets paired up with. So what does that have to do with Jillian.

Well, the idea of Jillian working at the same exact place as Odyssey's resident bachelor and calling him cute raises a few eyebrows.

"B-but Grits all she did was call him cute! You're reaching too far into this!"

Am I? Look I know this wouldn't be much of a big deal too but that is a subtle tactic the writers threw in to get the cogs turning for Jillison. Jason is clearly uninterested and even implied to dislike her. Jillian bemoans this but Connie reassures her that that's not the case. But hey at least she called him cute so OF COURSE she's going to end up being his love interest!

To me removing a character's core trait to justify a romance means you do NOT know how to actually write a compelling romance. It's trite, it's forced and painful to listen to.

It's also obvious she's a replacement for Bernard, given they have similar personalities and her brief stint on TV (which she also failed at lol). But whereas Bernard was actually endearing, Jillian seems more of a cliche womanchild with zero self awareness and tact. No actual depth, just a personality that is incredibly dumbed down and even insulting. Seriously they made her the dumb blond stereotype in an era where we should've moved on from that! 🤦

Did I mention she goes to church?

Yep she's gonna be one of those Christians.

Literally Loveless, Literally!

Oddly enough the narrative frames this as a rivals to lovers thing, where Jason is both the charismatic friendly guy and the super uninterested Straight Man. The constant twisting the turning makes him go OOC. See we know he's fit better as the former because that goes in line with his canon personality. But when they make him the latter he just comes off as unnecessarily mean. This is turns frames Jillian as someone we should pity: "Oh the attractive male doesn't like me because I went into his office without permission!!"

Wouldn't it make more sense for Jillian to be the one uninterested in a romance since her focus in to find a job/better purpose and romance might distract her? That would make a fun subplot...IF SHE WASN'T OBNOXIOUS!

A pattern I noticed and several fans pointed out: Jason's previous love interests were consistent in that they were strong minded women who challenged him in different ways. Their personalities bounced off creating a fun dynamic that was entertaining to see. Even though they didn't end up with him, you can still see and hear and feel their chemistry which is my goal for Jason x OC. Tasha doesn't make Jason OOC & they had a bittersweet arc, so their interactions were organic. Monica only made him OOC because she was a villain actively manipulating him. So again that worked in terms of story and led to Monica's redemption if my memory serves.

However, Jillian's dynamic is not that fun to listen to. You can feel her annoying Jason through the airwaves. She's strong but only in the sense of feeling something hard underneath your back laying on the bed and realizing that's just your earbud. She's vibrant yes but what else? She doesn't have any unique traits to contrast Jason, and any attempt at a contrast would mean making him act out of character. Adding her bumbling clumsiness and annoying voice, Jason would get tired of her very quickly. He's the type to go for people to have intelligent conversations with, not make him lose braincells. She could very well bring out the worse in him, it'll be an unhealthy relationship.

Here's a tidbit worth mentioning: the VA for Jillian actually auditioned with Jason's VA Townsend Coleman. Now that is big ass red flag right there! No hate towards the actress, just throwing that out there. There's also a facebook page dedicated to Jillison. Typical FB stupidity ramped up to eleven, or AIO fans who see something in Jillian; or at least THINk they see something worthwhile in her.

It doesn't help the writers keep insisting that these two go well together. The audience knows they do not work well as a pair but the narrative keeps insisting they are anyways. I recall an episode that had them pretend to be married while undercover and it was bad. Like REALLY humiliating to see Jason put in that position. He also told her to shut up much to my joy because she could NOT stop being irritating for five minutes. Alas the show still tries to justify Jillian being the Perfect Woman for Jason when she's anything but. And not even endearingly imperfect.

Follow Up

These tags I wrote on one of the AIO posts describes how I feel about Villain Marshall and the Jillison coupling as a whole. It just wouldn't work because Jason needs someone that can actually CHALLENGE him, have their own personality that can bounce off his (without being forced), and most importantly DOESN'T AGGRAVATE THE FANDOM!!

I have not met a single person anywhere that say they like Jillian. It's a different story apparently on the Club App - they like her for reasons I'm too cowardly to find out. But no, she sucks as a character. She makes a annoying friend, and is not a good addition to the show, much less a good love interest.

The only good thing she brought us are the nicknames we gave her 😌

That's all for now thank you for tuning into the Odyssey Mystery Hour. Next week I'll be talking a bit more about my OC Vanessa and her role in the world of Odyssey! Goodbye and make sure to lock your doors to prevent Jillian from coming in!!

[vajranam]

Milarepa

The story of how Jetsun Milarepa followed Marpa of Lhodrak.

In the region of Ngari Gungthang, there lived a rich man by the name of Mila Sherab Gyaltsen. This man had a son and a daughter, and it was the son, whose name was Mila Thopa-ga, "Mila Joy to Hear," who was to become Jetsun Milarepa. When the two children were still small, their father died. Their uncle, whose name was Yungdrung Gyaltsen, appropriated all their wealth and possessions. The two children and their mother, left with neither food nor money, were forced to undergo many hardships. Mila learned the arts of casting spells and making hailstorms from the magicians Yungton Throgyal of Tsang and Lharje Nupchung, and brought about the death of his uncle's son and daughter-in-law together with thirty-three other people by making the house collapse. When all the local people turned angrily against him, he caused such a hailstorm that the hail lay on, the ground as deep as three courses of a clay wall (about 3 meters).

Afterwards, repenting his misdeeds, he decided to practise Dharma. Taking the advice of Lama Yungton, he went to see an adept of the Great Perfection by the name of Rongton Lhaga, and asked him for instruction.

"The Dharma I teach," the Lama replied, "is the Great Perfection. Its root is the conquest of the beginning, its summit the conquest of attainment and its fruit; the conquest of yoga. If one meditates on it during the day, one can become Buddha that same day; if one meditates on it during the night, one can become Buddha that very night. Fortunate beings whose past actions have created suitable conditions do not even need to meditate; they will be liberated simply by hearing it. Since it is a Dharma for those of eminently superior faculties, I will teach it to you.”

After receiving the empowerments and instructions, Mila thought to himself, "It took me two weeks to obtain the main signs of success at casting spells. Seven days were enough for making hail. Now here is teaching even easier than spells and hail-if you meditate by day you become a Buddha that day; if you meditate by night you become a Buddha that night-and if your past actions have created suitable conditions, you don't even need to meditate at all! Seeing how I met this teaching, I obviously must be one of the ones with good past actions."

So he stayed in bed without meditating, and thus the practitioner and the teaching parted company.

“It is true what you told me," the lama said to him after a few days. “You really are a great sinner, and I have praised my teaching a little too highly. So now I will not guide you. You should go to the hermitage of Trowolung in Lhodrak, where there is a direct disciple of the Indian siddha Naropa himself. He is that most excellent of teachers, the king of translators, Marpa. He is a siddha of the New Mantra Tradition, and is without rival throughout the three worlds. Since you and he have a link stemming from actions in former lives, go and see him!"

The sound of Marpa the Translator's name alone was enough to suffuse Mila's mind with inexpressible joy. He was charged with such bliss that every pore on his body tingled, and immense devotion swept over him, filling his eyes with tears. He set off, wondering when he would meet his teacher face to face. Now, Marpa and his wife had both had many extraordinary dreams, and Marpa knew that Jetsun Mila was on his way.

He went down the valley to await his arrival, pretending to be just ploughing a field. Mila first met Marpa's son, Tarma Dode, who was tending the cattle. Continuing a little further, he saw Marpa, who was ploughing. The moment Mila caught sight of him, he experienced tremendous, inexpressible joy and bliss; for an instant, all his ordinary thoughts stopped. Nonetheless, he did not realize that this was the lama in person, and explained to him that he had come to meet Marpa.

“I’ll introduce you to him myself," Marpa answered him. "Plough this field for me." Leaving him a jug of beer, he went off. Mita, draining the jug to the last drop, set to work. When he had finished, the lama's son came to call him and they set off together.

When Mila was brought into the lama's presence, he placed the soles of Marpa's feet upon the crown of his head and cried out, "Oh, Master! I am a great sinner from the west! I offer you my body, speech and mind. Please feed and clothe me and teach me the Dharma. Give me the way to become Buddha in this life!"

"It's not my fault that you reckon you're such a bad man," Marpa replied."I didn't ask you to pile up evil deeds on my account! What is all this wrong you have done?" Mila told him the whole story in detail.

"Very well," Marpa acquiesced, "in any case, to offer your body, speech and mind is a good thing. As to food, clothing and Dharma, however, you cannot have all three. Either I give you food and clothing and you look for Dharma elsewhere, or you get your Dharma from me and look for the rest somewhere else. Make up your mind. And if it's the Dharma you choose, whether or not you attain Buddhahood in this lifetime will depend on your own perseverance.”

"If that is the case," said Mila, "since I came for the Dharma, I will look for provisions and clothing elsewhere.”

He stayed a few days and went out begging through the whole of upper and lower Lhodrak, which brought him twenty-one measures of barley. He used fourteen of them to buy a four-handled copper pot. Placing six measures in a sack, he went back to offer that and the pot to Marpa. When he set the barley down, it made the room shake. Marpa got up.

"You're a strong little monk, aren't you?" he said."Are you trying to kill us all by making the house fall down with your bare hands? Get that sack of barley out of here!" He gave the sack a kick, and Mila had to take it outside. Later on he gave Marpa the empty pot.

One day Marpa said to him: "The men of Yamdrok Taklung and Lingpa are attacking many of my faithful disciples who come to visit me from U and Tsang, and stealing their provisions and offerings. Bring hailstorms down on them! Since that is a kind of Dharma too, I will give you the instructions afterwards."

Mila caused devastating hailstorms to fall on both these regions and then went to ask for the teachings.

“You think I'm going to give you the teachings I brought back from India at such great cost in exchange for three or four hailstones? If you really want the Dharma, cast a spell on the hill-folk of Lhodrak. They attack my disciples from Nyaloro and are always treating me with downright contempt. When there is a sign that your spell has worked, I shall give you Naropa's oral instructions, which lead to Buddhahood in a single lifetime and body."

When the signs of the success of the evil spell appeared, Mila asked for the Dharma.

"Huh! Is it perhaps to pay honour to your accumulation of evil deeds that you are claiming to want these oral instructions that I had to search for, never considering the risk to my own body and life-these instructions still warm with the breath of the dakinis? I suppose you must be joking, but I find this a bit too much. Anyone else but me would kill you! Now, bring those hill people back to life and return to the people of Yamdrok their harvest. You'll get the teachings if you do-otherwise, don't hang around me anymore!"

Mila, utterly shattered by these reprimands, sat and wept bitter tears. The next morning, Marpa came to see him. "I was a bit rough with you last night," he said."Don't be sad. I will' give you the instructions little by little. Just be patient! Since you're a good worker, I'd like you to build me a house to give to Tarma Dode. When you've finished, I'll give you the instructions, and provide you with food and clothing as well.”

"But what will I do if I die in the meantime, without the Dharma?” Mila asked. “I’ll take the responsibility of making sure that doesn't happen," Marpa said. "My teachings are not just idle boasting, and since you obviously have extraordinary perseverance, when you put my instructions into practice we will see if you can attain Buddhahood in a single lifetime." After further encouragement in the same vein, he had Mila build three houses one after the other: a circular one at the foot of the eastern hill, a semicircular one in the west and a triangular one in the north. But each time, as soon as the house was half finished, Marpa would berate Mila furiously, and make him demolish whatever he had built and take all the earth and stones he had used back to where he had found them. An open sore appeared on Mila's back, but he thought, "If I show it to the Master, he will only scold me again. I could show it to his wife but that would just be making a fuss." So, weeping, but not showing his wounds, he implored Marpa's wife to help him request the teachings.

She asked Marpa to teach him, and Marpa replied, "Give him a good meal and bring him here!" He gave Mila the transmission and vows of refuge.

"All this," he said, "is what is called the basic Dharma. If you want the extraordinary instructions of the Secret Mantrayana, the sort of thing you'll to have to go through is this... "and he recounted a brief version of the life and trials of Naropa. "It'll be difficult for you to do the same," he concluded.

At these words Mila felt such intense devotion that his tears flowed freely, and with fierce determination he vowed to do whatever his teacher asked of him. A few days later, Marpa went for a walk and took Mila with him as his attendant. He went south-east and, coming to a favorably situated piece of ground, he said, "Make me a grey, square tower here, nine storeys’ high. With a pinnacle on top, making ten. You won't have to take this building down, and when you've finished I'll give you the instructions. I'll also give you provisions when you go into retreat to practise.”

Mila had already dug the foundations and started building when three of his teacher's more advanced pupils came by. For fun, they rolled up a huge stone for him and Mila incorporated it in the foundations. When he had finished the first• two storeys, Marpa came to see him and asked him where the stone in question had come from. Mila told him what had happened. "My disciples practising the yoga of the two phases shouldn't be your servants!" Marpa yelled. "Get that stone out of there and put it back where it came from!"

Mila demolished the whole tower, starting from the top. He pulled out the big foundation stone and took it back to where it had come from. Then Marpa told him, "Now bring it here again and put it back in. " So Mila hauled it back to the site and put it in just as before. He went on building until he had finished the seventh storey, by which time he had an open sore on his hip.

"Now leave off building that tower," Marpa said, "and instead build me a temple, with a twelve-pillared hall and a raised sanctuary.”

So Mila built the temple, and by the time he had finished, a sore had broken out on his lower back.

At that time, Meton Tsonpo of Tsangrong asked Marpa for the empowerment of Samvara, and Tsurton Wange of Dol asked for the empowerment of Guhyasamaja. On both occasions, Mila, hoping that his building work had earned him the right to empowerment, took his place in the assembly, but all he received from Marpa were blows and rebukes and he was thrown out both times. His back was now one huge sore with blood and pus running from three places. Nevertheless, he continued working, carrying the baskets of earth in front of him instead.

When Ngokton Chodor of Shung came to ask for the Hevajra empowerment, Marpa's wife gave Mila a large turquoise from her own personal inheritance. Using it as his offering for the empowerment, Mila placed himself among row of candidates but, as before, the teacher scolded him and gave him a thrashing, and he did not receive the empowerment. This time he felt that there was no further doubt: he would never receive any teachings. He wandered off in no particular direction.

A family in Lhodrak Khok hired him to read the Transcendent Wisdom in Eight Thousand Verses. He came to the story of Sadaprarudita, and that made him think. He realized that, for the sake of the Dharma, he must accept all hardships and please his teacher by doing whatever he ordered.

So he returned, but again Marpa only welcomed him with abuse and blows. Mila was so desperate that Marpa's wife sent him to Lama Ngokpa, who gave him some instructions. But when he meditated nothing came of it, since he had not received his teacher's consent. Marpa ordered him to go back with Lama Ngokpa, and then to return. One day, during a feast offering, Marpa severely reprimanded Lama Ngokpa and some other disciples and was about to start beating them. Mila thought to himself, "With my evil karma, not only do l myself suffer because of my heavy faults and dense obscurations, but now I am also bringing difficulties on Lama Ngokpa and my Guru's consort. Since I am just piling up more and more harmful actions without receiving any teaching, it would be best if I did away with myself."

He prepared to commit suicide. Lama Ngokpa was trying to stop him when Marpa calmed down and summoned them both. He accepted Mila as a disciple, gave him much good advice and named him Mila Dorje Gyaltsen, "Mila Adamantine Victory Banner."As he gave him the empowerment of Samvara; he made the mandala of its sixty-two deities clearly appear. Mila then received the secret name of Shepa Dorje, "Adamantine Laughter," and Marpa conferred all the empowerments and instructions on him just like the contents of one pot being poured into another. Afterwards, Mila practised in the hardest of conditions, and attained all the common and supreme accomplishments.

The trials that Milarepa had to undergo before receiving the teachings from Marpa, as well as being a purification of past Karma, an accumulation of merit and a psychological preparation, also had a bearing on the future of his lineage, each detail having a symbolic significance which, by the principle of interdependence would affect Milarepa’s own future and that of his disciples.

~H.H. Patrul Rinpoche from the text Words of My Perfect Teacher.

[theradioghost]

some recs for my podcast mutuals who are burnt out on horror & sad plot stuff

aka I’ve been seeing a few flavors of people exhausted by several of the most popular podcasts around here being pretty dark right now & I have attempted to put together a tasting menu of some stuff I think might help alleviate that burnout (& which also deserves some more love)

1. I'm okay with stuff that’s still on the dark or macabre side, I'd just like something that isn’t 100% characters I care about suffering horribly all the time, maybe some laughs in there

The Beef and Dairy Network: Like a seriously disturbing body horror podcast, except British satirical comedy! About cows! You kind of have to listen to it to get what’s going on tbqh it’s nearly impossible to explain but if you like horror and are just tired of being depressed about it maybe try this one. NOT for the easily nauseated.

Wooden Overcoats: black comedy sitcom about two rival funeral homes on a small island, one run by The Most Perfect Man On Earth (tm) and the other run by two misanthropic twins with a knack for disaster (and their hypercompetent assistant (and a mouse who wants to be an author)). this one is about watching the protagonist suffer horribly all the time but like, this time it’s usually a lot funnier and honestly he deserves it

Death by Dying: (so far very short) dark comedy about the resident obituary writer of idyllic Crestfall, Idaho, who sets out to tell the stories of how the town’s residents died and ends up uncovering a lot of other things, like conspiracies, and man-eating cats, and a poet’s vanishing childhood home, and what his friend the Angel of Death isn’t telling him about what’s in the dark woods. has very strong ASOUE or Pushing Daisies vibes, that sort of dark whimsy and really distinct narrative voice

Arden: “true crime” comedy-ish mystery podcast feat. two of the best bickering hosts anywhere and a whole third host called homoerotic tension, trying to solve a decade-old Hollywood mystery. secretly a shakespeare adaptation. one of the hosts is michelle agresti. an airline run by killer robots is involved, somehow. it’s a perfect storm

2. I’m good with some plot and higher stakes, but I need something more kind and hopeful right now:

Middle:Below: 10-minute episodes about a man who travels between the worlds of the living and the dead to solve the problems of restless ghosts, and the three friends he does it with -- a ghost, a cat, and a writer. their tagline is “remember: bad things will happen.” this is basically a lie, this show is extremely sweet

Alba Salix: high fantasy medical workplace comedy about hospital staff in a fairytale-ish kingdom, namely one grouchy witch, one distracted fairy, and one extremely disgruntled teenager sentenced to community service. also comes with the miniseries The Axe And Crown, which is about a gay troll bartender, his clueless landlord, and his bombastic niece, and also is one of the most heartfelt touching pieces of audio fiction I’ve ever heard?

Dark Ages: also a high fantasy workplace comedy, but in this one the dysfunctional cast work at a magical natural history museum, which thanks to recent events is now hosting the mythical Dark Lord on top of all the usual problems caused by their complete incompetency.

Solutions to Problems: a sci-fi relationship advice show feat. human host Janet and alien host Loaf. also feat. banter, illegal time travel, what to do when the AI that controls the air you breathe is your on-again-off-again girlfriend, and how to avoid your many spouses when they insist you need to come back to the homeworld and spend some time with your spawn.

Victoriocity: steampunk buddy-comedy mystery show, in which misanthropic detective Archibald Fleet (aka Tom Crowley but he’s grouchy this time) and intrepid newbie journalist Clara Entwhistle (aka an absolute ray of sunshine) uncover some Secret Plots within the government of a very different victorian london. if you like the “opposing personalities come to care deeply about one another as friends” trope this one is for you

Inn Between: not an actual play, but a show about the developing relationships of a party of RPG-esque adventurers as they rest at the inn between campaigns. you don’t see the adventures, just the crew growing closer and learning about one another in their moments of peace.

The Strange Case of Starship Iris: sci-fi adventure about a stranded biologist and a ragtag crew of smugglers who set out to resist an authoritarian government, solve a mystery, and prevent a second human-alien war. as far as I can tell their plan for accomplishing this is to be as funny, gay, and adorable as possible, and to dismantle oppressive systems via the power of found family tropes. also via the power of linguistics.

3. just give me the fluffiest, funniest, sweetest, most relaxed, lowest-stakes thing you have:

Everything is Alive: meditative, deeply touching show where Guy From Public Radio holds interviews with inanimate objects. the interviews are super genuine and beautiful and I think they’re improvised, or at least they sound very natural? for people who want to be profoundly moved by a can of generic brand cola (you may not know but you are one of those people)

Standard Docking Procedure: a self-described “hopepunk” scifi sitcom about a group of employees on a space station, dealing with the little daily misadventures of difficult tourists, traffic control disasters, nonexistent love lives, and each other. Has an explicitly stated purpose of staying happy, lighthearted, and comforting.

Love and Luck: tied for absolute most heartwarming audio drama in existence. the story of the relationship between two Australian men, told through voicemail messages, as they fall in love, start a cafe, build a supportive and loving local queer community of close-knit friends and chosen family who help one another through thick and thin, and also find out that they can do magic apparently (IMPORTANT NOTE: there are some darker events and themes tackled in the plot starting around the latter half of the first season, but the focus of the story itself is always on how people support and help one another through trauma and difficulty, and the explicitly stated core premise of the show is that every character will have a happy ending and be okay.)

Quid Pro Euro: Look Around You-esque satire of old 80s and 90s instructional tapes where Felix Trench tells you what the European Union will look like in the far-off year of 2000. I don’t know anything about the European Union but I cackle like a witch when I listen to this

The Cryptonaturalist: I know you’ve seen his tweets. well it’s that but a podcast. just a man with an extremely nice voice talking about fantastical creatures like salamanders that swim through parking lot asphalt or foxes that roam the shelves of libraries at night. in between he reads poetry and generally talks about nature in the most beautiful way you could imagine. this show feels like a peaceful walk in the woods.

The Hidden Almanac: a podcast made 90% out of gentle fantasy worldbuilding, as a somewhat grumpy man in a plague doctor mask tells you about the history of his world and distributes gardening advice. has an immense archive of four-minute long episodes. it’s best to listen in order, because there is continuity, and be aware that about the first year or so has dropped off most feeds. written and performed by much-loved fantasy writer and artist Ursula Vernon and her husband Kevin.

Startripper!!: the other forerunner for most heartwarming audio drama in existence. seriously, you cannot imagine how much joy Startripper!! will bring into your life. it’s just the travelogue of one little alien with a heart full of enthusiasm and love setting out to see the universe and making friends along the way with just about everyone he meets, including his extremely loveable spaceship AI. I really mean it. listen to this show if you listen to nothing else.

Cabin Pressure: BBC radio workplace comedy about the dysfunctional crew of the world’s smallest airline. not only utterly hilarious but will tug on your heartstrings more than you could possibly imagine (this does not look at first like a found family story but it so very much is). warning for bendytoots cucumberpatch but like, in the one and only valid role he’s ever played. you definitely cannot find this show by searching its name on the Internet Archive.

[cribb4eva]

Trump ft. Beauty and the Beast au

A Retelling of

The Beauty and the Beast

AND THE WALL THAT BROUGHT THEM TOGETHER

featuring

·         Donald Frump as the majority stakeholder of BeautyTM

·         J Jenkins, better known as the Beast, a professional competitive eater

(HENCEFORTH REFERRED TO AS B&B)

[A/n - as I write this I hear the two loudly arguing about the moniker.

Beast: “I like it. It goes a long way to show how we truly united.”

Beauty: “Covfefe”]

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

Once upon a time there lived an immensely wealthy merchant in a lavish home the likes of which the world had never seen (and god willing would never see again). As the rich are prone to do when bored, he bred in his spare time. As the result, the monstrosity he called his home witnessed a flowering of horses, ducks and wailing human children, and Monsieur (because Frump was a fan of the French) Frump had to overcome the first hurdle of parenthood – the naming ceremony. We can safely assume he did not do very well, as one of his (many, many) children and (equally numerous) ducks ended up with the same name – a lovely, well rounded ‘Donald’. Pause now, and witness this wonder of the world, both Donalds have illustrious careers ahead of them- one immortalized on the silver screen along with his various animal friends, who he loved to take the mickey out of, and the other, human version immortalized thanks to the work of your very own writer of this tale.

We move now to the future, an older Donald the Human greets us, spewing pearls of wisdom ( à la the classic fairy-tale Toads and Diamonds, pardon my old fangled references) while Donald the Duck, sailor’s cap et all is sadly, dust in the wind. To make my point, let me grace you, dear reader, with some of his (earth shattering, epoch defining) words - "I will build a great, great wall on our southern border, and I will have Mexico pay for that wall. Mark my words." One could say he had delusions of grandiloquence.

Ah, but this Wall is to play a role in the tale, as all great dreams begin with a dreamer, to borrow from Madam Tubman, who will no doubt be distinctly displeased at my using said quote for said human. What one needs to remember then, is that the human Donald had grown up into his name, and now (very un-ironically) owned Beauty Corp.TM, the premier destination for exploiting societal expectations of beauty for women and turning a profit, and its subsidiary, Miss Whole-Goddamn-Universe, where Donald the human, whom we shall now refer to as Mr. Frump, would fulfil his yearly quota of ogling at women and generally making everyone uncomfortable. In a sentence, Mr. Frump owned BeautyTM, and if that bit of irony doesn’t make your day better, I’m afraid the dark side has won you over.

The wheel of time turns, kicks up the gravel on the road, and leaves dust in its wake. Circumstances change. For it just so happened that Frump the senior had to leave his monstrous home to bring down the economy of a small third world country, and this parting from his brood brought much sorrow. “What shall I bring for you” he cried, tears flowing down his cheeks thanks to dust allergies caused by the afore mentioned wheel of time. In a chorus of “drones!” “A small spaceship!” and “the Kohinoor!” young Donald’s “a wall” claimed the heart of his sire.

Thus Frump senior began his long and arduous journey to the third world country, his pain exacerbated by the fact that the airline did not offer first class passage. His return found his joy dulled, for while he had successfully managed to oust the leader, and scam them , the country still retained the rights over its own resources, and in his fatigue, he forget about the promises he had made to his children. Presently he remembered those promises and went about fulfilling them; a quick text to his friend Geoff Pesos of Amazing Inc. would take care of the easier demands. A wall would prove to be more daunting, and in his desperation he directed his goons to the first wall he saw and told them to take it apart and bring it to Donald.

Alas for Mr. Frump that the wall belonged to one J. JENKINS, COMPETITIVE EATER EXTRAORDINAIRE, with a social media presence to rival even that of the most venerated reality television stars. Now Jenkins was a simple bloke. He lived to eat and not the other way around. His online persona The Beast would have gotten along excellently with Monsieur Frump on any other day, given that both were paragons of Western gluttony.

However, as one might assume, Jenkins did not take kindly to thugs tearing down a wall of his house (who would have thought?). And as is the norm, Jenkins threatened an expose, which as we know, is universally accepted as the Truth, which Mr. Frump, slayer of third world countries could not risk at present. As diamond cuts diamond, so does social media prove to be a wonderful defence against Mr. Frump’s team of lawyers( who took great pride in being called sharks and endeavoured to live up to the name by looking more and more like the watery predators). I have said before, and I will say again, nothing beats the threat of public embarrassment, as Frump Senior would find out unless he agreed to bring Donald the human to the abode of one J. Jenkins and apologise. Jenkins was a traditionalist and believed in punishing the son for the sins of the father.

For the purpose of this tale, let us assume that both Frumps, junior and senior are unable to pay off the wily Jenkins and scowling, go out to meet him- “But daddy, it's really cold outside, they are calling it a major freeze, weeks ahead of normal. Man, we could use a big fat dose of global warming!”

The Beast, as Jenkins was known, had grand plans for Mr. Frump junior, who was well known around the globe for his previously mentioned making-women-uncomfortable activities. The Beast also had a secret. His WeTube sponsors had threatened to withdraw, following his ‘I ate a bat for breakfast’ video which they believed would not be taken well since it had been a mere ten months after the outbreak of the MorBid 19 pandemic. He needed to pull something so amazingly outrageous, so steadfastly loony, and so horrifically absurd so as to make the ramifications of his previous video null and void. And along came Frump junior, funny how fate functions. Rarely had the world witnessed such serendipity; the solution dropped into the lap of a mortal with such ease.

Thus was born the idea of a video titled- ‘The Famous Mr. Frump Eats Healthy For A Week, Shocker I Know’. Cue the gasps of amazement, the astonishment of the netizens; for if there was a thing Mr. Frump was even better known for, it was his absolute detestation for anything green and fibrous. God forbid you utter the word healthy around him, while the N word (nutri****) had to be censored to avoid the inevitable hissy fits.

And so Jenkins convinced Frump junior to pay off his father’s debt by living with him for a week, to record the challenge (which would go on to be featured in WeTube’s yearly Rewind, and thus achieve digital stardom). Needless to say, Donald’s siblings were decidedly not pleased, for there are those in this world who envy a fellow human even a chance of dodgy WeTube fame.

Donald dithered, and as per usual, couldn’t make up his mind. In the end, he had to return to the Beast, for the Frump Empire was still very much open to the criticism of said WeTube star and animosity due to his demolished wall. Thus the Wall brought the owner of BeautyTM to the Beast, who had been languishing at the thought of having to make a living once his sponsors cut him off.

Cue dramatic reunion, a week of healthy eating that changed their lives, for the Beast repented his ways and decided that perhaps wasting food in a hungry world was in bad taste (pun intended), and the owner of BeautyTM realised that perhaps there was something to be said for actually focusing on what goes in the body rather than what is slapped on outside.

When you thing of their future, think of a viral WeTube video. Think of a new WeTube channel called B&B. Here we end our tale, and they lived (how long I cannot say, for I am no seer).

[abbacchiosbelt]

I have baby fever real bad right now and these jojo blogs are making it worse, smh! Headcanons for Buccellati’s gang welcoming their newborn baby, please?

babies!! babies!! as always, minor characters are aged up. (♡˙︶˙♡)

Bruno has been beyond excited ever since you told him you werepregnant. His greatest dream was to live a simple life in the beautifulcountryside with a family… and now, some of that dream is coming true! He’sbeen the picture of a perfect husband (not that he already wasn’t) yourwhole pregnancy, and he’s ready for any possible scenario. When your baby girlcomes, though, Bruno is at a loss for words with happy tears streaming down hisface. He cradles her gently and brushes her soft black hair back with hisfingers – she’s a perfect mix of her parents.

Bruno is going to make sure you don’t lift a finger until you’reproperly recovered. He doesn’t want you to miss out on bonding time, though, sohe brings your baby girl to you when it’s time for feedings, or just so thatthe two of you can spend time together. He loves to lay with his girls, holdingyou tight while you hold your daughter.

When you’re sleeping, Bruno takes a million pictures of your daughter,so you don’t miss anything. He also sends them regularly to a group chat withthe rest of the gang – Narancia, Mista, and Trish always respond enthusiastically.Abbacchio and Fugo say she’s cute, and Giorno sends emojis expressing hisemotions. They’re always cute flowers and happy faces.

Trish and Giorno bought the baby a ton of designer baby outfits –including a custom-made onesie to look like Bruno’s favorite suit. Bruno putsit on her all the time because it’s adorable.

His favorite part of the day is sunset, when his family sits onthe patio. You hold your daughter while she sleeps or nurses in a rocking chair,and Bruno sits next to you with your hand in his. He can’t believe that this ishis life now. He has a little twinkle in his eye when he looks at the two of you,imagining how nice it might be while the two of you sit on the porch and watchyour children run down the beach…

 Abbacchio is simultaneously terrified and ecstatic. He’ddo anything for you and his unborn son, but hell, he’s messed up so many timesthat he’s worried he won’t get this right either. Just assure him you’re inthis together, and it will help him calm down. When he holds his new son in hisarms, Abbacchio feels a softening in his heart similar to the first time he metyou. His son has the same eyes as him.

He doesn’t sleep much anyways, so he’salways up to take your son for night duty. If you can’t sleep, though, he lovesyour company while the two of you calm your son. He likes to hear assurancefrom you that he’s doing it right. Despite his insecurities, he’s a great newdaddy. Your son is charmed by his silvery hair and lipstick.

He spends a lot of time in the firstweeks listening to music with the baby. All the books recommended just survivingthe first few weeks, so he listens to the same opera on vinyl that he and youused to dance to whilst you were pregnant. Your son would always kick inexcitement when Abbacchio turned on Monteverdi.

He doesn’t do baby talk, so sometimesyou find him saying really funny and blunt things to your son. He tones hisvoice down, of course, but he’ll make snarky remarks about other people whilereassuring your son that he and his Mommy are much better. Call him out and he’llblush, just a little.

He’s amazed by how naturally it allseems to come to you, and how easily he’s fallen into family life. He’s notsure if he wants another child because he’s so in love with you and his new son.

Mista is already a Dad to the Sex Pistols,but having a human baby is a whole new deal! He cried out of happiness when youtold him you were pregnant, and then cried again out of happiness and stresswhen you told him you were pregnant with twins. He’s always wanted a big family,but it’s a lot to deal with! Still, he gets himself put back together and isthe sweetest husband you could ever ask for. He’s always talking to your bellyand placing kisses on it before bed. At the hospital, he’s a little freaked outwhen you go into labor. Once his twin daughters are placed in your arms,though, he bawls. He loves them so much, and they both have his curlybrown hair that he hides under his hat.

Mista and you are in for a wild, butrewarding, time. The girls are just as excitable as their father, and both ofyou find yourselves up super late at night taking care of them. It’s stressful,but Mista never lets it show and showers you with compliments about what aperfect Mommy you are for the girls. His ‘ladies’ are his highest priority, andhe tells everyone in the group chat about how great all of you are.

Absolutely texts Bruno for advice –and to a lesser extent, Trish. He doesn’t want to do anything wrong, but bothof them happily come over to help out when you and Mista are at your wits end.The babies love both of them, though they pull at Trish’s pink hair and Bruno’szippers.

Mista pretends to make the girls haveconversations with each other to make you laugh – although his eyes go widewhen they start grabbing at the Sex Pistols. They can see them?! The SexPistols love the babies, but they have to be careful or the girls chew on them.

Mista had a list of dad jokes plannedfrom the start, so expect your husband to rattle them off as soon as he can. Helikes to hold the babies and tell them the jokes, seeing if they’ll giggle atall.

He’s completely head over heels for thegirls and you. He couldn’t have asked for anything more – and he’s kind ofready for more kids already!

Narancia never thought he’d get to live out his dreamof having a family, so he runs outside and screams in excitement when you tell himyou’re pregnant. He’s so excited that he can barely handle it, and hedrops to his knees after coming back inside and plants kisses all over yourvery tiny baby bump, promising to be the best Daddy this side of Naples. Heinvites everyone to the hospital. He lets you squeeze his hand as tight as youwant, but he’s afraid you might break it at one point. When his son emerges,same purple eyes, Narancia cries out of happiness and plants kisses on you andhis new son.

Rivals Mista in his enthusiasm over hisson and wife – he just loves the two of you so much, and he’ll protect andcherish you with everything he has in him. He’s still goofy and a little immature,but he does his best to help you out. He always puts his son in cute outfits tomatch his.

When it’s okay for your son to go out,he enthusiastically shows the both of you off to strangers. Anyone passing bywill be subjected to ‘look at my beautiful wife and son’ if they look in thebaby carriage. He just can’t contain his love for you and the baby! He’s alsovery overprotective and watches other people like a hawk when he’s out with hisfamily.

He falls asleep with his son on hischest a lot, one arm holding him close. Take pictures, because he loves to seethem!

He’s very proud that he can read to hisson, even if they’re simpler books to start with. His son may not understandyet, but the joy Narancia gets out of reading to him is unrivaled.

Fugo is quiet in his reaction – he’s excited, butscared. He doesn’t want to be like his parents, and he doesn’t want to hurt youor his unborn child with his anger issues. Still, he can’t deny the happinessin his heart when he sees your growing bump. He’s so excited to start a familywith you, the love of his life. When his new son is born, Fugo is silent withawe. He cries a few tears, but he’s mostly concerned with how you and the babyare doing. He’s read a lot of material about pregnancy, birth, andchild-rearing. The first time his son is placed in his arms, though, he forgetseverything and focuses on the feeling of warmth blooming in his chest.

Fugo has a schedule set up, althoughhe quickly finds out that newborns don’t really adhere to schedules… Still, hehappily offers to help whenever you need it, and wordlessly wakes up at nightto calm your son if he’s crying.

He’s delighted when Narancia sends hima strawberry hat for the baby – he takes a bunch of pictures of the three ofyou in your matching strawberry outfits/accessories. It’s extremelycute, and everyone gets a printout to frame the picture. Fugo has never lookedso domestic!

Fugo loves to cuddle up with you andthe baby and listen to classical music or read to the two of you. He won’t everpressure his son like his parents did to him, but he sees no problem with doingthings that are said to help babies with intelligence at an early age.

Giorno, much like Fugo, is silent in his excitement.He never expected to have a loving partner, let alone a family… and he doesn’t haveany experience living in a proper and nurturing family. He trusts you to helphim, but he’s worried about messing things up. Still, he loves you immenselyand loves his unborn daughter from the second he finds out you’re pregnant. He’salso worried for your safety. For the birth, Giorno buys out an entire hospitaland ensures the best and most private staff will cater to you. Everyone isthere for support, but it’s only you and Giorno present for the birth. Giornolets you hold his hand on one side and GER’s hand on the other. He’s amazed atthe sight of his new daughter – he’s thrumming with nervous excitement andstarts to feel anxious about her being handled by the staff. Once she’s placedin your arms, he calms down and gazes at the both of you with pure adoration.

He’s extra careful with his new family’ssafety and privacy. Even though the Don can’t afford to take time away fromPassione, Giorno does because his family comes first now. He adores spendingtime laying with you and his new daughter, simply observing.

His daughter has the same birthmark onher shoulder as he does – but he’s not surprised by her dark brown hair sosimilar to his natural color. She’s a quiet baby and very observant, much likehe was. Unlike his upbringing, Giorno showers her with affection and love. He’salways holding her if you’re not – there’s not a second that goes by that she’snot being held, unless she’s asleep.

Giorno uses GER to make little flowersfor your daughter. He loves when her little face lights up! When he’s at home,he holds her in the crook of his arm whilst he does paperwork before he comesto cuddle you and spend time with his girls.

[momokiiicos]

It was a cheerful Saturday morning in the 8th year common room when the Gryffindors began to speculate.

Because there was currently a naked Draco Malfoy fast asleep, curled up into a tight ball on Harry’s bed, while said Gryffindor was nowhere to be seen.

“It must be a ploy!” Ron shook, “He was trying to get into Harry’s bed to prank him. It must be!”

“Really, Ronald?” His girlfriend gave him an unimpressed tilt of eyebrow, “If that’s what actually happened then we’d most likely see Harry tied up somewhere, instead of just Malfoy sleeping in his bed.”

“That’s because Malfoy has already taken Harry’s out and hidden him.” Ron gasped, “Oh no! We must save Harry!”

Neville chose to ignore him, “So, where’s Harry anyway?”

The crowd around him gave an unanimous shake of head. “I don’t know, mate,” Dean frowned, looking around the room, “I think we’re all too hungover from last night’s party to remember anything.”

At his words, several groans shot up among the group. “The headache is still killing me!” Parvati complained. “Yeah, me too!” Another voice sounded.

Luckily, Hermione was already passing around vials of headache potions, which she seemed to have magicked out of thin air.

“Do you think Malfoy got here last night or this morning?” Neville pondered.

“Well if he got in this morning, we would’ve never known.” Dean shrugged. “But we didn’t see him coming up with us last night.” 

“But we were also pretty sloshed last night that we can’t be sure.” Seamus added.

Hermione hummed. “Why is he here though, instead of going back to his own room?”

Her question was met with silence as everyone contemplated with a still alcohol-addled mind, until Neville reasoned. “Maybe he was also so drunk that he followed us back here?”

“Okay but why is he in Harry’s bed? They wouldn’t have got into bed together, right?” Lavender, who was surprisingly awake enough to process more logical thoughts, pointed out. 

Hermione considered this. “Maybe Harry never went to bed himself? That would explain why he’s not here right now.”

“Nah,” Dean shook his head, “I heard him got into bed. Besides, we didn’t see him passed out downstairs.”

“So did Harry willingly let Malfoy into his bed just like that?” Lavender backtracked, “Seems unlikely but maybe Harry thought he was someone else.”

“That blond hair is quite hard to miss.” Seamus countered.

Thus, the group lapsed into silence again. Until Ron’s face lit up as though he was hit with a brilliant thought. “I know it.” He announced. “Malfoy didn’t get into Harry’s bed by himself, someone must have put him here.”

“And who would’ve done such a thing?” Hermione chuckled in fond exasperation.

“Someone who wants to finish him off, maybe?” Apparently Ron was still hung on his conspiracy, “Someone who wants Harry to. So they put Malfoy in his bed for Harry, y’know, like a prize!”

“Ooh,” Dean smirked, “A naked Malfoy presented as a prize for Harry. That is actually plausible. Though in a very different way.” He winked at Seamus, and an identical smirk spread on his boyfriend’s face.

Hermione harrumphed. “Let’s get back to the problem at hand : How do we deal with this situation?”

Parvati added. “And what is Harry going to do when he comes back to see this?”

Ginny piped up. “And why is Malfoy naked?”

Ron started and swivelled around to face his sister. “Ginny!” He exclaimed too loudly for someone who was standing next to a sleeping person, “Why are you here! You’re not an eighth — ”

“Oh I’m here too!” A cheery voice said beside her. When everyone turned to look, Luna waved enthusiastically.

Ron’s jaw worked and he visibly swallowed whatever argument he had in mind. “You know what, never mind. Indeed, why is the goddamn git naked!”

“Maybe he got hot and took off his clothes.” Luna said like it was obvious, in the same cheery tone.

“With Harry in the same bed?” Parvati gasped.

“Do you think he did something to Harry?” Neville gasped louder.

“Then we must wake him up and make him pay for it.” Ron decided, then proceeded to pick up a thick book on the desk and raise it above his head.

“Hold on!” Hermione called, “He may be naked waist down too!”

“All the way naked?” Ginny said in poorly suppressed excitement, “So Harry got some last night?”

“Ginny!” Ron all but shouted. Ginny only wiggled her eyebrows.

“Hey what if that was all not it, maybe it was the Slytherins — ” Dean began, until a familiar voice behind them interrupted.

“Uh, what are you all doing around my bed?”

Every head snapped up so fast to stare at Harry in surprise that it was comical, who had just stepped out of the bathroom, hair still dripping wet and towel wrapped around his waist.

Hermione was the first to recover. “Harry! Why — ”

“Shh!” Harry shushed her hurriedly, stepping towards the group, “You’re going to wake him!”

However, the occupant of the bed proved to be already awake, as he was currently treating the surrounding crowd before him with a quelling glare that could set one aflame, albeit through half-open eyes. When they landed on Harry, though, the gaze softened fractionally.

“Harry~” Draco whined in a tone that could rival a petulant five-year-old’s, “Why did you leave me? Come back to bed.”

The Gryffindors gaped as Harry seemed to be unaffected by the prominent pout on the blond’s face, walking to his own bed and pullung the blanket open, sitting on it sideways. Draco dropped the glare and immediately latched on Harry, circling his arms around the latter's middle and burying his face into the still-wet back.

In the process, the covers slid down further and everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief as they realized Draco was, in fact, not naked all the way.

“Your idiot Gryffindors woke me up. And now my head hurts.” Draco complained in a mumble. It would’ve been annoying if he wasn’t clutching Harry like a koala. Apparently Harry had the same sentiment, given by the fact that his hand slipped into the head of messy blond to caress it.

“I just took a shower, you prat.” Harry chuckled, “And it was you who insisted on sneaking into my bed, you could’ve just slept in your own room around your den of Slytherins.”

The Gryffindors were a bit more relieved to find that the incessant bicker between Harry and Malfoy was still present, even though the tone had taken on more of an affectionate one. Harry turned to them and asked, “Do we have some headache potion?”

Ron was obviously trying very hard not to look at the half-naked pair on the bed. “We just finished the last batch,” He said in a strangled voice, putting on his ‘I’m trying very hard not to freak out’ face. Harry thought it made him look constipated.

“We can always bring some more. C’mon, Ron,” Hermione said a tad too enthusiastically, tugging heavily at Ron’s sleeve. Ron reluctantly follows her out of the room.

Luna squealed then, when the couple was out. “What a turn of events! Congratulations, Harry, Draco,” The grin on her face was impossibly wide.

Harry smiled at her with pure joy brimming at his eyes, “Thank you, Luna. Indeed,” He looked down at Draco’s curled-up form, petting his hair while Draco made immensely pleased noise.

Draco raised his head and squinted at Luna. He nodded at her, instead of giving his usual glare. “Hello, Luna. Good night, Luna.” He said, then promptly went back to his slumber.

That broke the awkward tension in the room. The Gryffindors laughed among themselves and shook their heads, Dean and Seamus shooting Harry thumbs-ups which were returned. Soon, the crowd gradually dissipated from the bed, deciding to give the pair some space (and themselves some peace of mind).

On their way out, they could still hear the lovers bantering.

“Let me put some clothes on, I’m still naked and wet.”

“Don’t bother. You look better like this anyways.”

It was a cheerful Saturday morning in the 8th year common room when the Gryffindors (plus one Ravenclaw) began to speculate.

About how Harry and Malfoy managed to get together without them all noticing.

[coffeebased]

Hey! Wikathon na! I’ve started reading Relocations by Karen Tongson, about a third through now, but I had to take a little detour through Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir like I said I would. I’ve finished reading HtN but I’m not quite done experiencing it, so I’ll probably pick Relocations back up tomorrow.

But here’s what I read in July! What’s a segue?

1. Haikyu!! Volume 44 and 45 by Haruichi Furudate

A chance event triggered Shouyou Hinata’s love for volleyball. His club had no members, but somehow persevered and finally made it into its very first and final regular match of middle school, where it was steamrolled by Tobio Kageyama, a superstar player known as “King of the Court.”

Vowing revenge, Hinata applied to the Karasuno High School volleyball club… only to come face-to-face with his hated rival, Kageyama!

And with those two volumes, Haikyū has ended. I’m really glad that my cousin got me to catch up to the series because being a part of the sheer joy and love that’s poured out the fandom these past few months has been refreshing to my spirit. I enjoyed the way Furudate brought the series to its conclusion, by giving all the characters a future and room to grow. I hope to hear more from him in the upcoming years.

  2. Looking for Group by Alexis Hall

I read Looking for Group because I was reading up on Alexis Hall in anticipation of Boyfriend Material, which I will talk about later, and saw the synopsis:

So, yeah, I play Heroes of Legend, y’know, the MMO. I’m not like obsessed or addicted or anything. It’s just a game. Anyway, there was this girl in my guild who I really liked because she was funny and nerdy and a great healer. Of course, my mates thought it was hilarious I was into someone I’d met online. And they thought it was even more hilarious when she turned out to be a boy IRL. But the joke’s on them because I still really like him.

And now that we’re together, it’s going pretty well. Except sometimes I think Kit—that’s his name, sorry I didn’t mention that—spends way too much time in HoL. I know he has friends in the guild, but he has me now, and my friends, and everyone knows people you meet online aren’t real. I mean. Not Kit. Kit’s real. Obviously.

Oh, I’m Drew, by the way. This is sort of my story. About how I messed up some stuff and figured out some stuff. And fell in love and stuff.

And I knew that I had to read it. Immediately.

I enjoyed it way too much. The characters were adorable, the conflict was done well, the geeky gamer wrapper was AMAZING and the author never dropped the ball on integrating the online game into the narrative. It was very readable and I enjoyed the atmosphere of the book immensely. I also may have spent a heady week or so thinking of playing WoW, but I avoided that temptation. Made me miss uni too, and the way my friends and I would spend countless hours with each other.

  3. Boyfriend Material by Alexis Hall

Wanted: One (fake) boyfriend Practically perfect in every way

Luc O’Donnell is tangentially–and reluctantly–famous. His rock star parents split when he was young, and the father he’s never met spent the next twenty years cruising in and out of rehab. Now that his dad’s making a comeback, Luc’s back in the public eye, and one compromising photo is enough to ruin everything.

To clean up his image, Luc has to find a nice, normal relationship…and Oliver Blackwood is as nice and normal as they come. He’s a barrister, an ethical vegetarian, and he’s never inspired a moment of scandal in his life. In other words: perfect boyfriend material. Unfortunately apart from being gay, single, and really, really in need of a date for a big event, Luc and Oliver have nothing in common. So they strike a deal to be publicity-friendly (fake) boyfriends until the dust has settled. Then they can go their separate ways and pretend it never happened.

But the thing about fake-dating is that it can feel a lot like real-dating. And that’s when you get used to someone. Start falling for them. Don’t ever want to let them go.

I came into this book with high expectations after Looking for Group, and my expectations were mostly met. The few issues I had were ultimately negligible, probably cultural differences or conventions of a genre that I’m not familiar with. The characters were strong, and I found the book funny. I know it sounds as though I’m damning it with faint praise, so I’ll say it plainly: it was an enjoyable read and I was totally invested in the romance. I think it’ll make a really good film as well.

4. The Subtweet by Vivek Shraya

Everyone talks about falling in love, but falling in friendship can be just as captivating. When Neela Devaki’s song is covered by internet-famous artist Rukmini, the two musicians meet and a transformative friendship begins. But as Rukmini’s star rises and Neela’s stagnates, jealousy and self-doubt creep in. With a single tweet, their friendship implodes, one career is destroyed, and the two women find themselves at the center of an internet firestorm.

Celebrated multidisciplinary artist Vivek Shraya’s second novel is a stirring examination of making art in the modern era, a love letter to brown women, an authentic glimpse into the music industry, and a nuanced exploration of the promise and peril of being seen.

If you’re a millennial and if you’ve ever had complicated friendships, this book will ring really true for most of it, I think. I kept wincing at the characters’ actions and “mistakes”, recognising them as things I or my friends have done, but there are portions of the story that I found inaccessible because Neela, the main character, just seems really opaque even when they’re the ones speaking. The music Shraya made as a companion to the book slaps and can be found here.

  5. Empowered 11 by Adam Warren

Costumed crimefighter Empowered finds herself the desperate prey of a maniacal supervillain whose godlike powers have turned an entire city of suprahumans against her.

Not good! Outnumbered and under siege, aided only by a hero’s ghost, can Emp survive the relentless onslaught long enough to free her enslaved teammates and loved ones, or is this–*gulp*–The End?

From comics overlord Adam Warren comes Empowered, the acclaimed sexy superhero comedy–except when it isn’t, as in this volume’s no-nonsense, wall-to-wall brawl guaranteed to bring tears to the eye and fists to the face!

Warren’s tying up a lot of loose ends and answering a lot of questions and I’m wondering if that means Empowered‘s ending soon. I haven’t seen any info regarding this, even though the words “The End” are right there in the summary, because comic books always lean on the whole the hero could die! thing, and more often than not they never do. But Emp has come so far in the past 11 volumes, and I think that she’s ready to confront a lot of the stuff that Warren’s only hinted at in the past. Most of Empowered is about how Emp deals with failure and how she rises above it, and recently it’s become about how other people have failed her, rather than how she has failed, and how she deserves better. I’m worried about her, but at least we are another volume’s worth of evidence for the Emp/Thugboy/Ninjette OT3.

  6. Sex and Vanity by Kevin Kwan

The iconic author of the bestselling phenomenon Crazy Rich Asians returns with a glittering tale of love and longing as a young woman finds herself torn between two worlds–the WASP establishment of her father’s family and George Zao, a man she is desperately trying to avoid falling in love with.

On her very first morning on the jewel-like island of Capri, Lucie Churchill sets eyes on George Zao and she instantly can’t stand him. She can’t stand it when he gallantly offers to trade hotel rooms with her so that she can have the view of the Tyrrhenian Sea, she can’t stand that he knows more about Curzio Malaparte than she does, and she really can’t stand it when he kisses her in the darkness of the ancient ruins of a Roman villa and they are caught by her snobbish, disapproving cousin, Charlotte. “Your mother is Chinese so it’s no surprise you’d be attracted to someone like him,” Charlotte teases. Daughter of an American-born-Chinese mother and blue-blooded New York father, Lucie has always sublimated the Asian side of herself in favor of the white side, and she adamantly denies having feelings for George. But several years later, when George unexpectedly appears in East Hampton where Lucie is weekending with her new fiancé, Lucie finds herself drawn to George again. Soon, Lucy is spinning a web of deceit that involves her family, her fiancé, the co-op board of her Fifth Avenue apartment, and ultimately herself as she tries mightily to deny George entry into her world–and her heart. Moving between summer playgrounds of privilege, peppered with decadent food and extravagant fashion, Sex and Vanity is a truly modern love story, a daring homage to A Room with a View, and a brilliantly funny comedy of manners set between two cultures.

This was the third romance novel I read in July, and that’s honestly the highest concentration of romance novel I’ve ever had in my life. I know that I’m supposed to find romance novels like super kilig and stuff, but so far I am just very anxious for romance novel protagonists all the time. I think that the whole thing about the romance novels I have read is that they’re mostly about how deeply anxious people learn how to allow themselves to be loved and that is tough! I wanted to protect Lucie all the time! I was Invested in her Welfare, and I don’t think I cared about Rachel Chu from Crazy Rich Asians half as much, even if you condensed all my attachment from the entire trilogy. Also, small spoiler, there is a hint that Sex and Vanity is in the same universe as Crazy Rich Asians, which I think is awesome.

  6. Trust Exercise by Susan Choi

Pulitzer Finalist Susan Choi’s narrative-upending novel about what happens when a first love between high school students is interrupted by the attentions of a charismatic teacher

In an American suburb in the early 1980s, students at a highly competitive performing arts high school struggle and thrive in a rarified bubble, ambitiously pursuing music, movement, Shakespeare, and, particularly, their acting classes. When within this striving “Brotherhood of the Arts,” two freshmen, David and Sarah, fall headlong into love, their passion does not go unnoticed—or untoyed with—by anyone, especially not by their charismatic acting teacher, Mr. Kingsley.

The outside world of family life and economic status, of academic pressure and of their future adult lives, fails to penetrate this school’s walls—until it does, in a shocking spiral of events that catapults the action forward in time and flips the premise upside-down. What the reader believes to have happened to David and Sarah and their friends is not entirely true—though it’s not false, either. It takes until the book’s stunning coda for the final piece of the puzzle to fall into place—revealing truths that will resonate long after the final sentence.

As captivating and tender as it is surprising, Trust Exercise will incite heated conversations about fiction and truth, friendships and loyalties, and will leave readers with wiser understandings of the true capacities of adolescents and of the powers and responsibilities of adults.

This is a book I could not stop reading and I felt gross after I finished it. I think that I enjoyed it and that the narrative flips were well-done and it was engaging, but Choi writes teenage trauma in 3D, and you can smell her scumbag characters. Very good will never read again unless looking to feel bad.

  Re-read:

Temeraire: His Majesty’s Dragon, Throne of Jade, Black Powder War, andEmpire of Ivory by Naomi Novik

Aerial combat brings a thrilling new dimension to the Napoleonic Wars as valiant warriors ride mighty fighting dragons, bred for size or speed. When HMS Reliant captures a French frigate and seizes the precious cargo, an unhatched dragon egg, fate sweeps Captain Will Laurence from his seafaring life into an uncertain future – and an unexpected kinship with a most extraordinary creature. Thrust into the rarified world of the Aerial Corps as master of the dragon Temeraire, he will face a crash course in the daring tactics of airborne battle. For as France’s own dragon-borne forces rally to breach British soil in Bonaparte’s boldest gambit, Laurence and Temeraire must soar into their own baptism of fire.

I started re-reading it because I wanted to introduce it to my girlfriend, and I outpaced her very quickly, and selfishly. She’s still at the beginning fourth of Throne of Jade, and I feel like I blinked and gulped down four of the books in quick succession. I had to stop myself after Empire, in a very belated effort to sync up to my gf’s progress. The series is amazing, and I don’t know if I’ll ever read one like Temeraire again. Being able to revisit it should be enough, really, because every time I do it’s as though I’m caught up in a strong and wonderful wind that fills me up with delight and awe. Novik’s starting a new series this September, and I hope it’s just as good.

    That’s it for July! I’m probably going to do two books at a time for my Wikathon posts, just to keep things fresh and current, so keep a weather eye out for those posts!

  July, next verse, same as the first Hey! Wikathon na! I've started reading Relocations by Karen Tongson, about a third through now, but I had to take a little detour through…

[jadekitty777]

Divine Intervention: Chapter 3

Unofficial Taiqrowweek: Day 4

I’m cutting it close on this one, but there was some minor hitches in this chapter that needed some desperate ironing out. I feel the story is stronger now and I’m more satisfied with it overall. I hope y’all like it too!

Rating: T

Word Count: 4,400

Ao3 Link: Chapter 3

Summary: [Afterlife AU] Qrow is a raider demon. His job is clear: Collect recently fallen souls for Hell. The more he could gather, the more power he would be granted. Easy, right?

Well, it would be, if not for a certain blond angel constantly getting in his way. Qrow was pretty sure Taiyang’s job wasn’t to keep the souls safe from him, but rather to infuriate him with his overblown righteousness and his insufferable smiles.

Eternal damnation wasn’t supposed to be this annoying.

~

When someone passed on, a bell tolled to mark the moment.

When a silver soul passed, the bell never stopped tolling.

It was said these souls were made from God’s tears and that each one was meant for a great purpose, but at the cost of great pain. During the ‘biblical’ times, it was said there were many of these souls running around parting seas and foretelling dreams, but they had since faded to a fewer and fewer number as time went on.

Still to hear it here, now, his body ruled ahead of his mind and Qrow flew faster than ever before.

It was far, almost at the edge of his region, but he paid no heed to that. Only to the sound – for as long as it kept ringing, he knew there was still a chance. He could still-!

Is that really what I want? The thought finally got through.

What an inane thing to think. Of course he did! To fulfill his purpose was the only way to make his existence less miserable.

What will Tai think?

Qrow leapt out of one shadow, shaking his head violently to try and clear it. What did it matter what that featherbrain thought? He was so good, he could never really understand his plight.

He’ll be so disappointed.

Yeah well… he wouldn’t be the first.

There were no further arguments, and he crossed the rest of the distance in insufferable silence.

When he finally arrived, even before he left the portal, he could feel other demonic auras seeping down from above. It felt like tar, weighing him down with the combined crushing strength alone. He swum against it, certain his wings would rip right from his back from the effort alone. On a one on one, he had no chance against the combatants already there – his only hope was to be craftier.

He finally managed to breach the surface, though he didn’t emerge further than to his eyes, taking stock of the situation with a sweep of his gaze.

It was lucky his mouth was still under, because the groan he gave at the sight of Taiyang would have given him away instantly.

There were two others. The first was the silver soul and he almost did a double take at the sight of her. The likeness she had to Tai’s ex-wife was absurd. From hair and eye color, to even the face-shape, there was no denying that she had to be a descendant. She was also no older than Oscar had been or, perhaps, was just small for her age.

The other was the cause of the drowning sensation in the shadows. A lieutenant of the Lord’s court, Tyrian. He looked more demonic than most others, with much larger, curling horns, wide, powerful wings, and a thick tail with a stinger on the tip. Qrow had heard many stories of the lunatic; he had a soul count of a few thousand and it was said he took immense joy in torturing others, no matter their age or affiliation. He was one of the first he had ever been told to avoid at all costs. His presence here was both a blessing and a curse, as that meant no one else would risk approaching.

But it also meant escape was almost impossible.

“You’re not taking her!” Taiyang snarled, voice unusually furious as his wings spread wide to provide a better guard for the girl behind him.

Open like they were, it was hard not to notice the vertical scars that ran down the length of them, as if something had once nearly cleaved them off. Qrow had seen them a few times before, but only now was he worrying how he must have obtained them. He ducked a little more into his dark pool. Don’t be reckless Tai.

“I can respect a man who sticks to his resolve, but you know that I just can’t do that.” Tyrian’s voice had a hint of mania in every word he spoke. His grin was equally wicked, eyes alight with insanity. “If you wish to struggle, though, then I’ll be sure to give the girl a show by plucking off every single one of your feathers.”

Tai reached up to pluck off two of his feathers, collecting light as he spun one in either hand. Qrow had only seem him do that motion once before, during their very first encounter, and knew he was preparing to summon his weapon. The memory of the bruises Taiyang had left when he’d jabbed that bō staff right into his stomach were still fresh in his mind.

The angel’s eyes stayed trained on the danger even as he spoke to the girl. “Sweetheart, just stay behind me. I promise I’ll get you home.”

She sniffled, clutching onto her oversized red hoodie. “O-Okay.”

“That’s quite a promise, friend.” Tyrian’s eyes glowed as he rose his hand, placing his thumb against his middle and index fingers.

Qrow knew what it meant and screamed soundlessly in warning.

“I hope you can keep it!” He finished, the snap of his fingers as loud as thunder.

Within a heartbeat, two pools of black formed on either side of him. Springing from them were two Hellhounds, guardians of Hell’s gates. They were despicable creatures with rotting, pockmarked skin and three heads that were similar to a Doberman’s but large enough to rival a horse’s.

And both were charging right for Taiyang and his ward.

Just as quick, Tai slammed his glowing feathers together, before pulling them apart. The light followed, expanding into something solid. Barely waiting for the staff to finish forming, he swung it around into the head of one dog with enough force to send it skidding. It gave the other hound the opportunity to skirt by, jaws dripping as it pounced for the girl who could only duck down and scream.

Taiyang pivoted, swinging his leg up and delivering a brutal roundhouse kick to the dog’s middle. It yelped, rocketing right past where Qrow was hiding.

And he didn’t go unnoticed. Tai froze, eyes widening.

His momentary hesitance was a fatal mistake. Tyrian was on him in an instant. He grabbed the angel in a chokehold, beating his bat wings to torpedo them both through the air, their legs knocking the girl over when they passed above her. They didn’t stop until Tai’s body collided with a tree. Tyrian held him by his neck several inches up off the ground, a sadistic grin spreading as his opponent spasmed in his grasp. The angel clawed at his hand as he desperately tried to get air.

Qrow’s chest compressed so tightly he almost couldn’t breathe either. No. No, no, no! He had to do something!

Tyrian licked his lips. “Have fun with your snack, boys. I’ve got my own.”

Qrow looked from one situation to the other, seeing the defenseless child still curled on the ground, crying frightfully as the dogs ran full force for her.

He had but a split-second to decide – and as he yanked himself from the pool, he quietly prayed Taiyang would forgive him.

He propelled himself forward, wind rushing in his ears as he curved his wings inward for more speed. It was just enough that he was able to scoop up the little girl just moments before one of those animals got their teeth into her. His presence was confusing enough to the dogs that they paused in a follow-up attack. One that would have undoubtably taken him down. Instead, it gave him the window he needed to get away.

He shot upwards, high into the sky.

“What?!” Tyrian cried. “You wretch, bring back m- oof!”

His distraction afforded Tai a slight advantage, and he used it to the full effect as he brought up his legs and gave the lieutenant a solid double kick to the gut that sent the demon flying back. He followed after the sailing body, snatching up his fallen bō staff. When Tyrian impacted the ground, Tai pinned him down by stepping down onto his wings. As he jabbed his weapon into the demon’s throat, his gaze briefly wavered towards Qrow, giving him a nod that said everything.

I can’t hold him off for long.

Take care of her.

I trust you.

Before he could be given a chance to rethink it, Qrow nodded back as he cradled the girl close and took off. He beat his wings hard, focusing on his speed. This was his realm, so he knew the nearest church was a few miles away; and though his portals would get him there in three hops, he couldn’t take the girl through them. It made his haste all the more pressing.

“Are you gonna take me somewhere bad too mister?” The girl blubbered.

He looked down at her, her face blotchy with tears and terror. He held her tighter, saying firmly, “No. I’m a friend of Tai’s. I’m gonna get you home.” She nodded, but her weeping barely seemed to slow. Qrow didn’t know a lot about kids, but he figured if he could keep her talking it might calm her down. “What’s your name kid?”

“R-Ruby.”

“Ruby, huh? That’s a really pretty name. Certainly, better than mine.” He did his best to imitate the saccharine tone he always heard Tai use when under these circumstances.

She snuffled, her words jumbling together. “Waz yours?”

“Qrow. See you got named after a gemstone but I got named after a big, dumb bird.” That made her crack the tiniest of smiles. “How old are you Ruby?”

She rubbed a hand under her nose. “Eight.”

“Ah, so you’re practically a big kid! I guess that means you have lots of responsibilities.” Gods above, he was bad at this.

“What’s a responsibilities?”

“Uh it’s a – You know, like a chore? Washing the dishes, folding laundry, that kind of thing.” He explained, ascending to a strong air currant and soaring across it. He was trying to keep his eyes everywhere. He really hoped Tai could keep Tyrian busy long enough.

The wind had pushed the hoodie up over Ruby’s head. “Oh, I had one of those! I had to take care of Zwei.”

“Who’s Zwei?”

“My dog. He’s a lot nicer than those big meanies that tried to bite me.”

Clinging to the safe topic like a lifeline, he kept asking questions. “Oh, and what kind of dog is he?”

By the time he was approaching the sweet salvation of town, he probably knew more about Ruby’s dog then he knew about his own sister, right down to his birthday and the correct place to scratch him to get his leg to kick. He focused on the pointed rooftop that stood out like a beacon to guide him, dipping lower the closer they got. Unlike the one Oscar had gone through, this church was still holding up fairly well, nothing quite falling to pieces yet even if it had signs of weathering. There was no gate around this one, so the border was a little harder to make out, but as he drew near, he noticed how the surrounding grass faded away into nothing but dirt. That was it! That was the boundary.

All he had to do now was just get her to go inside and then he could go find Tai.

“Alright, we’re here.” Qrow announced. “All you got to do now is walk yourself through the door and the light will do the rest.”

“You’re not coming too?” She asked as they landed.

He looked down at her. If it were not for the fact it was physically impossible for him, he was pretty sure those big, round eyes looking up at him could convince him to do anything. As it was, he could only say, “Sorry kiddo, I’m not allowed past the border.”

“Can’t you try?” She said, clutching onto his shirt tightly when he tried to set her down.

He shook his head, trying not to let his impatience show. He didn’t have time for this! “I really can’t. But you’re a big kid, remember? You got this.”

Her lower lip trembled. “But I don’t wanna go alone.”

God damn it, you sniveling-!

Qrow took a steadying breath to keep his normally volatile temper in check. It wouldn’t help either of them and certainly would make her more resistant. No matter what it promised to be, that step into the unknown was hard for anyone. And for a kid who barely understood what was going on, this had to seem twice as scary. That was why the Guiding Angels existed. Sometimes they just needed someone to hold their hand – and it frustrated him, he couldn’t do that for her.

All he could do was stand here and watch; he had to hope that would be enough. “Look, Ruby-”

“Dear child, I’ll make sure you’re not alone.”

It was as if a thousand spiders crawled up his spine all at once. What had happened to-?

He heard the crunch of footsteps behind him and shouted, “Don’t move! One more step and I throw her in!”

“Hoo, what’s this? Are you actually challenging me wretch?” Tyrian’s tail smacked at the ground. The aura of pure malice he exuded was almost tangible, weighing on him just like it had in the portal.

Qrow couldn’t dare turn around, as that would leave Ruby unguarded, but to have his back to such a powerful foe was extremely unsettling. It was difficult to keep his voice steady. “I have the advantage here.”

“And yet, you tremble like a lamb.”

He scowled. “Anyone would shudder in disgust in your presence.”

“Yeah! You’re a butt-ugly bug man!” Ruby chanted with him.

“That’s the spirit kiddo.” Qrow said, moving his hand slowly so he could unwind her little fists from his shirt. He strained his senses, trying to detect even a hint of movement that would imply he was in danger.

“What a rude sort you are.” He rambled on, “Alas, you’re right. I’m truly at a checkmate here. I can’t even attack, elsewise you may just fall past with her – and she’ll be lost to me forever.”

He let him keep talking, adjusting his grip on Ruby inch by inch. She’d get a few scrapes, but seeing as the alternative was so much worse, he didn’t worry too much of it. He tensed, preparing to toss her in.

“However,” Tyrian’s voice seeped into him like poison, “Did you consider what will happen to you when you do?”

Qrow froze.

He must have seen it, as he suddenly began to laugh wildly. “I mean, you didn’t really think there’d be no consequences, did you? This is treason of the highest offense! Our Lord will certainly see to it you’re thrown to the deepest pits and tortured for a thousand lifetimes.”

His heart raced, the rhythm painfully beating at his ribcage and his body shook in terror, as if it remembered something he could not.

Why? Why did that sound so familiar? He had never been to Rings of Hell before. He’d only heard of their reputation. How each of the layers’ methods of torture only grew worse as the number did. They were chosen based on the crime committed against their Lord. For something like this, he’d certainly be tossed into the ninth and final layer, Treachery.

He shuddered, nightmarish images consuming him as he saw his skin being peeled down to bone and his organs being soaked in boiling acid.

“But,” Tyrian’s venomous tone was back, enticing him in the worst of ways, “If you give her to me, then all is forgiven. I’ll even welcome you to my ranks for it.”

He… he couldn’t move.

This was what he wanted right? Here it all was – status, power, infamy – all being offered to him on a silver platter.

All he had to do was sacrifice one little girl.

His grip loosened.

Who would miss her anyways?

“No way! Mr. Qrow would never do that!” Despite her size, Ruby’s voice was loud. Those bright, honest eyes looked up at him, and she said as if there was no truer truth, “Because Mr. Qrow is a good guy!”

Qrow could not explain, exactly, what her words did but it felt as if a spell was shattering around him and he was fully coming awake; not just in this moment, but for the first time in years.

Memories he never realized he’d forgotten flooded in all at once, so fast he could almost not keep up but so clear it was as if he was wasn’t just remembering it, but experiencing it.

He was there in his final moments right before his death, praying one last time with the Reverend for forgiveness, before he stood to take his final walk.

Now, he was waking up to the smiling face from an all-too familiar blond, a helpful hand being offered. (He was a lost soul! He’d never been forsaken at all!) He recalled how Tai’s kind demeanor was tempered with a sense of urgency as he guided him, his eyes darting everywhere as if expecting the shadows to jump at them.

How they did jump at them.

Qrow’s current rage mixed with the terror he’d felt at the time as he saw what happened next:

Demons surrounding them.

Tai ordering him to run for the chapel.

The angel’s following cries that made him look back.

The sickening jolt in his stomach at the sight of him pinned to the concrete, beautiful wings speared through like the beginning of a taxidermist’s newest project.

How he turned back around, ignoring Tai’s pleas for him to keep going.

The jarring impact of a demon tackling him down.

His own screams for help as he was dragged towards the shadows.

His final sight before being pulled under was of Tai getting out of the spears’ restraints by leaping towards him, the desperate attempt ripping great tears down his wings.

Sadly, he might have made it, if only he had still been able to fly.

The rest of it passed in a blur: the months he would spend in the dungeons of Hell’s fifth ring of Violence. The trials that chipped away at his psyche until the things that mattered were gone.

Until he was told by others what he wanted and what he was meant to strive for.

Until the mantra he kept repeating to not listen became buried.

Until all he felt he had left was the worst of himself.

Until…

Until he was broken enough to lie his way out of his cell but not enough to be completely insane.

When he finally ran into Tai again, he didn’t recognize him.

Tai still smiled at him, even as he knocked him to the ground.

It was only now that Qrow could understand how that near permanent smile was hiding the sadness in Tai’s eyes every time he looked at him.

The last memory faded. He blinked rapidly, his hazy vision refocusing as his mind cleared. It could not have been more than a second or so that he’d been standing there, but it felt like it had been days. He looked down at Ruby, still secure in his arms, unable to hide his amazement.

This was a silver soul, huh?

“What’s your choice wretch?” Tyrian’s words brought him back to the matter at hand.

Qrow squared his shoulders, finding the weight that had been crushing him was now lighter than feathers. He looked back, just enough to catch the demon’s eye. “I have to thank you.”

He tilted his head, confused. “Oh? Whatever for?”

“Giving me an ultimatum like that?” He grinned. “It tells me I have nothing to lose.”

And then he stepped forward into the sanctuary.

Understanding came too late, Tyrian charging with a warning yell. His nails, as sharp as falcon talons, breached the barrier and were vaporized immediately. He jerked back with a shout, gripping his wrist and watching as the damage continued to spread down the rest of his nails. He looked up, aiming him with a truly wrathful look, “You’d best hope I don’t see you again wretch.” He grinned crazily. “Because if I do, I’ll be sure to take your hand as my trophy.”

Qrow just leveled him with an indifferent look. “Get lost lowlife.”

“Yeah!” Ruby joined in, sticking her tongue out at him.

Tyrian gave them both one last parting scoff before he scuttled away into the nearest portal.

In the wake of his departure, Qrow nearly fell to his knees as relief swept through him. They had made it! He glanced at his charge, briefly concerned she’d burst into more tears now that the danger was gone. It quickly vanished when instead she looked up at him and smiled.

He found himself easily returning it. “How about I walk you to that door now?”

She nodded and he set her down onto her feet. He held his hand out to her, which she took, and together they walked across the dirt lot and up the stairs, stopping in front of the entrance. He knelt down beside her. “Alright kiddo, this part is all you. You just gotta open the door and walk through.”

Ruby stared up at the knob apprehensively, then looked towards him. “It’s not gonna hurt, is it?”

He shook his head. “Not even a little bit. And I’ll be right here, just in case.”

“And - And I won’t be alone?” She rocked on her heels, bunching her hoodie up in her tiny hands.

At least this was an answer he knew with absolute certainty. “Not a chance. There’s loads of other kids where you’ll be.”

“But what if I can’t make any friends?”

“Ah come on kid, that’ll be impossible. ‘Cause I’m your friend.” He pointed to himself boisterously, as if that alone was the grandest of accomplishments. “And if you can make friends with me, then you can make friends with anyone.”

She seemed completely unimpressed. “Yeah but you’re old. I gotta make friends with people my age.”

“Call me that again pipsqueak.”

Ruby placed her hands on her hips, bending towards him and stretching out the word tauntingly, “Ooooold!”

Qrow couldn’t help but laugh, tapping her on the nose. “Very funny.”

She grinned proudly. As she straightened back up, she gave the door another thoughtful look, giving a firm nod. “’Kay, I’m ready.”

“You sure?” He questioned cautiously.

“Uh-huh. I was ready for everything else. I’ve been sick a long time. When I couldn’t get outta bed anymore, Mama would sit beside me and tell me that this is the good part. That Heaven’s a place where I can run and play again and nothing hurts anymore.” She placed her hand on the door. “I felt kind of bad because I wanted to leave so much. But Mama said it was okay, even if she was real sad. I think she just wanted me to stop hurting too. So now that I have, I gotta make the most of it.”

It should have been tragic, knowing this eight-year-old had been ready for death before her life really got started; but seeing how brave she was in the face of it all, Qrow just couldn’t look at it that way. She was the type of person who would grow to be the hero of her own story – and that was something to be admired.

He placed a hand on her head. “Keep that attitude and you’re gonna do just fine kid.” He gave her hair a good ruffle before backing off. “Alright, go ahead.”

She reached up, touching the doorknob and pulling it open. The light inside eddied out like an ocean wave on a hot day, inviting in its relief and compelling in its pull. Ruby looked to him one last time. “Thanks Mr. Qrow for helping me.”

In an instant, she was gone.

He got to his feet, placing a hand on the door. The warmth of the light fell across his arm, tugging insistently.

“Come home.” Raven requested. It was in that he knew it wasn’t actually her speaking. After all, if it really was Raven, she wouldn’t request anything of him. She’d demand it.

It was harder than he liked to admit to shut the door. “Not yet.” He murmured. He still had to find-

“QROW!”

He spun at the shout, seeing a lightning bolt zipping through the sky – the telltale look of an angel riding the light. The tension in him broke instantly. He was alright!

But just as suddenly, the flash was plummeting down. “Tai!!” Qrow’s heart jumped into his throat and he kicked off, rushing towards him. He just barely managed to catch him a few feet above ground, wings straining as they flapped rapidly to compensate the extra weight. The landing was still rough, his legs almost giving out from the jolting impact.

Tai was clinging onto him, head tucked against his shoulder, his breathing rough and rapid, “Sorry, sorry. I’m fine, I just-” His explanation was cut off as he groaned lowly, hands fisting into Qrow’s shirt.

“Just catch your breath, I got ya.” He said, sweeping his gaze over him, quickly finding the injury.

One of the Hellhounds must have gotten him, because the left leg of his pants had been torn away around the shin. Fang marks were visible where they had punctured through. Murky vapors wafted from the injury rather than blood and a deep blackness was slowly spreading along his skin like a bruise. All clear signs of darkness poisoning. Left unchecked, it would eventually immobilize an angel entirely and suck away all their light. The only remedy was returning to Heaven.

Tai lifted his head some, looking around frantically. “Wait! Ruby, where is she?”

“She got there safely, don’t worry.” He reassured.

“Good, good.” He relaxed against him again, hissing softly as another surge of pain hit him.

“Alright buddy, we need to get home. That wound’s looking pretty nasty.” Qrow shifted his grip, throwing Tai’s left arm over his shoulders so he could provide more support for his bad leg.

As they shambled forward with less coordination than a newborn duck, Tai still found it in him to ask, “We?”

His gaze stayed fixated on their feet. “Yeah.”

He’d seen it for so long now, he could already picture the smile he was wearing. Even after they reached the door and Qrow finally found it in him to look up, he found that despite all the pain Tai must have been in, it hadn’t faded, not even an inch.

Qrow reached out and opened the door. The light welcomed them home.

[paladin-andric]

The Creation Legend: Kobolds

Ahh, the second of the series! How many more will there be? I’m not sure, these two were the only ones I really had in mind when I came up with the idea.

Last time we learned of the pseudodragons, a species born of love, peace and kindness, utterly incorruptible souls of selfless purity. This time however, we see quite a different origin for these beings. Rather than loyalty to goodness, they find only loyalty to their master...but how will that loyalty be used?

Deistoul felt the power of the world coursing through his body as the spell came to its end.

Long ago, he came to the conclusion that this world, and everything in it, was so...boring.

Ages before the rise of man, the world was an empty and barren place, devoid of life. Here, dragons roamed this massive expanse of nothingness, ruling over it as they saw fit.

Not that there was much to rule over. There were animals to devour and lairs to guard, but that was really it. If one didn’t get intimate with their neighbors, there were only really two things to stave off the insanity born of boredom.

One could duel and battle their neighbors instead. While dragons might form pairs and have children, they could also name rivals and do battle with them. An interesting choice to be sure. A life of war and glory...though often short-lived.

It was strange, sometimes rivals fought simply because there was little else to do, and slowly...some of them began respecting one another. Deistoul even noted a pair of nearby dragons that fought for glory’s sake who began to enjoy each other’s company so much that they became close, stopping when they had the upper hand, healing one another with magic, and then joyfully recounting the battle once it was over.

Ah, but the final choice in these sparse lands was to pursue magic. Not simply learn and use it like most dragons, but seclude yourself in constant study. Harness it. Master it. Command total control over it. Have the secrets of the world at your claws.

This was what Deistoul had decided to do. He spent so long mastering the art of magic, and creation in particular...but magic for magic’s sake is, once again, boring.

What was the point? Greater healing power? Bigger waves of magical beams? Why spend decades refining your skills in such a way? Was all the time training worth that?

No. Not to Deistoul. He spent this time for another reason.

To bring forth new life into this world. To shake things up. To make this bland and tasteless existence more interesting.

The years of training and practice had borne fruit. After a few...failures, he was ready.

This time it would go to plan.

The beasts he was bringing forth into existence were...to be honest, quite pathetic. They were so tiny, so very frail, and their minds were as weak as their bodies. There was little redemption in them, to be quite fair...

But that wasn’t the point. Deistoul didn’t WANT powerful beasts.

He wanted something that could never touch his glory and greatness...so that his hold over them was absolute.

Along with their weak wills and minuscule strength, they would be implanted with a deep, all-encompassing awe of dragonkind. It was only proper that the creations served their betters.

Their weakness did not make them truly worthless, though. Have enough ants, and they could kill a lion.

Ah, but their combat prowess was also not his intention for creating these creatures. He was bored. He wanted little things to watch, and be entertained by. Nothing more.

Now he was in his mountain-cave, incantation deep and booming. The green dragon waved his talons about as the end came near. With a final roar and an explosion of magical power, it happened.

In the dirt beneath him, they began to take form.

Little more than outlines at first, more and more of them came to be, until all of them was woven into the world.

There were many of them, and they all looked pitiful. They were hunched over on the floor, still coming into their persons. Soon, a few of them jolted, and then slowly rose to their feet.

Out of the barren darkness, small, unseen creatures began to awaken. Their minds switched on, and soon they realized that they were people...people who existed, thanks to the great and powerful behemoth before them.

They were partially created of the dragon’s own image. Reptilian, sharp claws on their hands and feet, tails, horns...though even though they stood upright and he didn’t, they came nowhere near his height.

Indeed, they were to him what insects would be to humans in due time.

Of course, along with their size, their spirits couldn’t hope to hold a candle to the dragon’s greatness either.

Their eyes widened as their lives began, and as soon as they rose, they were dropping back to their knees. They quivered and cast their eyes down, unable to handle his glory.

This amused him greatly, and he inspected his creations with vested interest.

He was almost disgusted by how pitiful they were, but...such was the way of the dragon. Anything that could not match them was theirs to decide the fate of...and he had a cave filled with such creatures now. Finally, he could decide fates, change the world and alter the path of history.

He had...minions. Something no other dragon had, apart from the rare instance one dragon subjugated another. It took exceptional circumstance to break the near unending pride of a dragon, though.

None could boast an army. He could rule the world with this kind of power!

Coming back to his creations, he felt immense pride despite their feebleness. Though...did he make them TOO weak of mind? Were they little more than beasts? They showed little in the way of awareness...

“Creations,” he spoke deeply, “Speak.”

Ever so slowly, their heads rose, and they looked to their creator. Their eyes widened again, and each of them seemed utterly overwhelmed.

There was a long period of silence as they stared in reverent awe.

Deistoul grimaced. “I said speak!”

That did it. Though they wanted to, it seemed they lacked the courage. One of them managed. The beast had trouble, but he did it.

“M...master...”

A weak and trembling voice. So fragile. So timid. Lacking grace and dignity.

“That is right. I am your master. Your creator. Your salvation. You serve me, and nothing else. I, your lord and ruler, hereby proclaim this to be true.”

“Y-yes, master...”

All of the little beasts continued kneeling, dropping even closer to the ground. It appeared they were prostrating themselves before him, reinforcing his complete and utter dominion over them.

Good. That was good. That was what he wanted.

“You will live your lives here, in my lair. I permit you this great honor, to live beside my immense greatness. Am I not a gracious and benevolent master?“

There were hurried nods. He could see them trembling, nearly unable to contain their joy at such a prospect.

It made sense. They WERE programmed to be unwaveringly obedient and dependent on him.

“Very good. I can see you wish this dearly. I shall be merciful and grant you your greatest wish. You are permitted to stay here with your master. Go on and explore your home. Begin doing what you will to become situated. Perhaps you wish for the comforts of a soft pile of hay to lay on while you sleep? Some recreational activities? I will grant you these things, so great and just of a lord as I am. Such is the way of the great Deistoul.”

One of the creatures finally mustered the courage to speak in his presence. “M-master Deistoul! I live to serve you!”

This caused a chain reaction. Realizing they could speak their innermost feelings to him, a surge of shrill voices cried out, all screaming his name in joyous rapture.

“Master Deistoul! Master Deistoul!”

The dragon nearly burst out laughing. All was going to plan. Soon their little society would begin to take form. How would they behave? What would they find fun? How would they interact with one another?

At last, things had finally gotten interesting.

One of the creatures carefully approached, mind running wild with questions but her immense awe of the dragon making it difficult.

As the small lizards began to split up, some beginning to explore as master suggested and some sticking close to the dragon, she finally reached him.

She looked up at the dragon and swallowed. “M-master?”

“Yes?”

“What...what am I?”

Deistoul grinned manically as he craned his neck down, the beast quivering as his face neared hers. His answer only furthered her anxiousness.

“Why...you are mine, of course.”

She nodded hurriedly. “O-of, course...”

“Ah, but that is not what you meant, was it?”

“No, my lord.”

His grin widened. “Of course, I was only drawing out a reaction. What ARE you, indeed? A creation, a fabrication. You were not formed over the span of eons, but of my whims. You, in a way, are me. You carry me in your own existence.”

What could even be said to that? She averted her gaze and bowed deeply.

“J-just as I am you...I am yours to command.”

“I am gladdened by your acceptance...but once again, not quite what you are seeking, is it?” the dragon scratched as his chin as he thought it over.

“W-well...I care only as far as...knowing when I am being called, Master Deistoul.”

“Of course...a name...a name...” he looked down and nodded. “I have come to a conclusion. Names shall come later. For now...I name your people. You...are the kobolds, servants of dragonkind, but I above all of course.”

The member of the newly named species nodded. “Y-yes, of course. It’s perfect, master. We are yours, my lord. I-I will serve.”

“Indeed you shall.”

So began the life of these new beings. They spent the rest of their lives with him, their master. During this time, much changed.

It quickly became apparent that they were quite alien to Deistoul. Though he made them, he put their minds on a different path, and left that path to be formed on its own. They did not find the same things interesting, or even live in a similar fashion.

But that was the point.

Deistoul now had something truly unique. A new race given form, utterly one of a kind...even if their existence clung to his in turn.

The following decades were just as he had wished. He tried to speak with them, but they were so thoroughly in awe of him...they could not speak to him as an equal. They shivered and kneeled, cried thanks and bordered on worshiping him.

To be expected. He had a way of seeing them acting normally, though.

Spying.

He used his magic to hide himself, and observed the minions carrying on in their daily activities. THIS was where the interesting things happened.

He sat concealed in the shadows with a grin as they talked, played games, argued, sang, and eventually even started finding love.

Interesting. So very interesting, to see an entirely new culture begin to take form. To see history begin here, with these few. He was witnessing the birth of a new civilization, and Deistoul was joyous over it all.

Soon, he too was changed by these things. While at first he saw them as little more than a novelty, a bunch of cattle to treat how he saw fit...something changed.

Seeing the tribe begin to use instruments, dance and sing, and live in perfect harmony affected all of this. Deistoul soon found his heart softening.

There was much pride in them. Though they were so different, they were wondrous in their own way, and they pledged their lives to him so selflessly...

They were their own people. They had their own lives, their own dreams, they chased skills and ambitions as they wished...but if master ordered them to throw it all away, they would.

It nearly brought tears to Deistoul’s eyes, now that he considered this.

In the blink of an eye, they were gone. After decades, they passed on from old age. Deistoul was nearly shattered when it happened. His own wonderful creations were gone. Their lives snuffed out in under a century from their own limitations.

But not all was lost. They had left behind something special for their master.

Children. Their children. HIS children.

And soon enough, they too had their own children.

His creations...the originals were gone, but their people would live on for all time. He would never be without his new children, who he now couldn’t imagine living without.

They were eccentric, over the top...and such great company. How did Deistoul manage before them?! Life was so very dull...this life brought color to the lair.

Eventually their numbers grew so massive they spilled out into the surface, the cave unable to support this enormous city.

Soon, Deistoul decided it was time. There were too many, but lives would not be squashed under this turn of events.

It was time to go forth and forge their destinies.

Deistoul ordered groups to move out and find new homes of their own.

It hurt everyone involved. The kobolds wept. Deistoul’s heart ached, even if there were too many to remember by name.

But despite that, it had to happen.

“I will not allow overcrowding to bring down the standards of living for you,” he explained, “I insist you live the greatest lives possible for yourselves. Do not weep, children...within yourselves, you carry my image. I am always with you, even if we are separated physically. I will ALWAYS be with you, wherever you go.”

It began. Every few years, more would pack up and leave. They traveled miles, setting up small tribes of their own. They traveled farther and farther as their numbers grew.

Soon they were all over the lands, and a few even approached other dragons. Soon enough, they were utterly common.

Live moved on. Generations came and went, each time wounding Deistoul on the way out...but he had grown to accept it now. He understood the meaning of mortality, so exposed to it as he was.

Millennia passed. The dragon slowly forgot of his grand visions of world conquest. Why would he want to? He had a family. Everything he wanted was right here.

At the same time...there was something new. Strange creatures of flesh that stood upright, lived in colonies and worked together, just like his children...

The humans had emerged. They wore strange fabrics, used sharp weapons of bronze, and also had their strange quirks...the dragon was glad he had lived long enough to see yet another civilization come to fruition.

As the thousands of years passed, he grew. The massive behemoth couldn’t even fit in his own cave anymore, wrapping himself around the mountain it was formed in.

As his life reached the mark of five-thousand years, it became apparent something was different. Where before his power was unmatched, where he could lift mountains and quake the earth, now there was nothing.

He lay motionless all day, every day. His vigor left him. His scales dulled. His voice grew weak.

Deistoul was dying.

It was the natural way of things. Millennia of living in bliss, his entire life used to the fullest...he couldn’t be upset.

The kobolds were different now. Where there was carefree joy, now they seemed sullen. They knew it too.

And at last, the day came.

He called them all to the mountaintop, where his head lay on the dirt. His eyes. His breathing...he was so tired.

“My children...we have spoken of this day, have we not?”

The countless figures watched, their fears affirmed.

“It it time. I must leave you.”

The chorus of screams made his head hurt.

“Please...silence. I have not the strength to shout anymore.”

They grew quiet again, though their tears told him all he needed to know.

“I know it hurts. Every time a generation would pass...I too felt this pain. It is a fact of life. It is something you must learn to accept.”

“B-but master,” one of the called out, “W-we...we need you!”

“I would stay if I had a choice in the matter,” Deistoul said bitterly, “You know this. Please...do not wound me. I cannot help this.”

As silence born of shame settled over them, Deistoul felt his heart grow warm. “I...I never imagined all of you would live. When I first created your ancestors, I thought them to be a brief flash in the passage of time...and while they were, they did not go without forging you first. You, you proud servants of the dragon...you shall be eternal, in a way. You must promise me something. Never stop. Grow your numbers. Spread far and wide. Bring my image to every corner of the world. Will you do this?”

“YES!” “YES, MASTER DEISTOUL!” “WE SWEAR!”

The entire crowd roared their acceptance.

“Good...that is good.”

Deistoul winced as a deep pain filled him. His already spent strength was fading away, and he could feel his body begin to shut down.

“It...it is time. I...I go...”

The crowd stared at him, each of them shocked.

“B-but...you can’t!”

One of them walked up to the dying dragon.

“Master...what...what do you want us to do? What...what happens to you, after you are gone?”

Deistoul thought for a moment.

“Hah...I tell you...live! That is all...though if it strengthens your hearts...spread my bones throughout the mountain.”

“Master?!”

“Indeed,” he spoke softly, “Bury my bones within the lair. Around the mountain. On the summit. This way...you live with me. Let this place became sacred ground for you. Each step you take, every place you go...I shall be right there, with you. I shall live with you forever.”

“Forever...”

The pair grew. His vision grew dark. This was it.

“You have given me something no other could. Joy. I will never forget these moments. Farewell, my children. Farewell...”

His eyes closed. His breathing ceased shortly afterwards.

He was gone.

The crowds wailed. The screams echoed. The despair was absolute.

All around his body, in a horde, thousands wept. For days, they cried. For weeks, they stared at him. For months, they mourned.

But no matter how many years passed, the pain never truly faded.

They knew he wasn’t going to live forever, but they never imagined their generation would have to witness such a thing.

True to their promise, life went on. They kept going. They kept growing. They survived in this now much darker reality.

They indeed took the master’s suggestion. After much time they split up his bones, burying them all around the mountain and in it. Every inch of ground had a bone of his underneath.

He really was with them, forever.

It became as sacred as could be. Even the others, having gone on to distant lands, learned of what had happened. No matter how far away, they traveled back to pray at the mountain.

Thus, Deistoul Mountain was born. A sacred place where each should come once in their lives. Here, the kobolds would pay their respects to their creator. Even as time marched on, this tradition was never forgotten. Though some didn’t bother to make the journey, thousands of kobolds would come every few years to visit the grave of their ancestors, and the tomb of their creator. It crossed all paths of life. Even the ones who had forsaken their people to live with humans or others would come. The dragon was kind, benevolent, their reason for existing, the one who accepted them for what they were.

It would not do to ignore such truths.

The kobolds became divided without their master. Each picked different dragons to serve. Some even rejected servitude altogether. Some lived lives of great evil, while some would strive to make the world a better place.

Even righteous holy warriors would kneel beside tribal raiders. Here in the mountain, bloodshed was forbidden. In this brief moment, there was peace, tranquility and understanding.

Here, only respect for the great dragon mattered.

Soon, they would leave, and all would go back to normal. Tribes fought, others defected for different people, and faith and culture clashed.

But in these precious moments, all kobolds were one. Together, in the caves, each would pay their due to Deistoul the Creator.

Tag list: @thereisnothingwrongwithbeingmad, @lady-redshield-writes, @paper-shield-and-wooden-sword, @sheralynnramsey, @tawnywrites, @writer-on-time, @oceanwriter, @zwergis-spilledink, @fluffpiggy, @elliewritesfantasy, @homesteadhorner,  @laurenwastestimewriting, @elaynab-writing, @the-ichor-of-ruination, @reya-writes, @bexminx