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stardustizuku · 2 months

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Unfortunately I came across a very strange and misinformed video about Black Butler.

It’s not good. Don’t watch it. Unless you wanna ruin your day, in which case have fun.

Despite it all, I watched it. What left me wondering, however, was how off the mark the person who made the video was on, well, everything.

From their insistence that the Book of Circus Arc theme or point is non existent, to reading Ciel’s character so badly they genuinely thought the Green Witch Arc did nothing for his character development.

While baffled, it also made me think on how someone could read Black Butler so badly.

Sure, you can say that there’s no real way to read or interpret something “in the wrong way” but interpreting The Hunger Games as a pure battle-royale action story would make you believe it’s bad.

“Why are we focusing so much on how the capitol preps them?” Or “Why isn’t Katniss winning everything?” Or “I wanna know more about the rebellion” All questions that miss the actual point of the story - which is criticizing (not solving or ignoring) the way that media distracts us from violence via spectacle.

The same thing applies here. While there is no “right” way to consume media, there’s things that the author makes clear they wanna focus when creating a story. Things that, if you understand, make the story you’re reading actually make sense.

And in Black Butler there’s three things that you have to understand to properly get what Yana is saying.

Sebastian is the protagonist

Ciel and Sebastian’s relationship IS the story.

And that relationship is, fundamentally, a positive one.

A quicker version of it would be:

Black Butler is a love story from the POV of Sebastian, and you have to ship it to get it

- but that’s not entirely true.

You can still look at it as a complex but ultimately positive rship and get in broad strokes of what it’s conveying. It doesn’t have to be romantic. Although, it helps much more than a platonic framing.

(That said, interpreting their rship as father and son, still isn’t the best way to go about it. Mostly because by its very nature of “soul consuming” their relationship is extremely sexually charged. And hey, if you’re into that I don’t judge. However, if you’re desperately trying to interpret their rship as NOT romantic to the point you fall back on heteronormative patriarchal ideals of nuclear familiar as framing device, I don’t think this interpretation bodes with you)

Now, having all that ground work:

Why do I say these are the key components to understand BB?

Okay so, first,

1. Sebastian is the Main Character. The protagonist.

There’s a lot of people who wanna argue against it, claiming he’s either the villain or the antagonist. Both wrong.

He does not function as an antagonist. Even if, and an emphasis on if, you consider Ciel to the protagonist, Sebastian isn’t a narrative antagonist.

If you wanna go back to Creative Writing 101, be my guest. An antagonist is directly defined by the protagonist. It’s the opposing force. If the protagonist wants A, the antagonist wants to stop them from getting A.

Sebastian’s catchphrase is “Yes, my Lord”. He never opposes Ciel, in fact quite the contrary. By the mere fact they’ve created contract, it means that they’ve both agreed in the inevitable outcome.

People want to frame Sebastian as the villain, because Ciel having his soul taken by a demon, would be a BAD END in the context of their moral compass. They see Ciel as a frail victim of abuse, who’s being tricked by Sebastian, who wants Ciel’s soul.

Which is an. Interpretation. A bad one. But still one.

The narrative (and whether the narrative fits your personal moral compass and lack of critical thinking is irrelevant) treats Ciel as an agent in his own destiny. The abuse he suffered was the moment in which he had no control. It’s only after he meets Sebastian that he can rid of both his guilt and his despair, and do what he wants.

In this case though, it’s revenge.

The famous “Asthma” scene shows this. If Ciel is taken back to his past, he becomes helpless. Swarmed with pain and memories that make it so that he can’t even react. Sebastian is his saving grace. If Ciel didn’t have him, and the power he wields to rebuilt what’s broken, he would crumble once more.

If Ciel has a panic attack, because of all the pain he has, Sebastian picks him up and says “you are not a helpless child anymore, you are not a victim anymore, you have the power to do anything. So, what do you wanna do?”

Ciel’s answer is to kill them.

A proper analogy would be to say that, if Sebastian offers a gun, Ciel pulls the trigger. They are both at fault. Sebastian, strictly speaking, is not here to directly cause Ciel’s downfall, but as a tool Ciel uses to plunge into the abyss.

If, again if, you were to frame Ciel as a protagonist, Sebastian falls closer to the “Voice of reason” character. Not a literal voice of reason, but a literary one. If you have a protagonist and an antagonist exchanging ideals, the Voice of Reason serves to engage with the protagonist on their own ideals.

That said, Ciel isn’t the protagonist. The story quickly falls apart if you interpret it as such.

Things such as Ciel’s character arc being…shall I say odd?

It’s not that his character arc isn’t there, but it’s never lineal. His goals stay the same, the only thing that happens is that we start to peel back the “why”s of his goals. Throughout the series it’s never about Ciel understanding himself better, he knows who he is, he knows what he wants, he knows why he wants it. He doesn’t ever need to uncover these, but simply remember them. Because it’s always about the audience understanding Ciel.

He knows he wants revenge.

In the Circus Arc: He knows that he needs Sebastian because without him, the pain of the abuse he suffered would be too much to bear. But WE are introduced to it.

In the Book of Atlantis: He knows that with this new lease he does not want happiness and peace, he wants revenge. The one being told this is the audience.

In Green Witch Arc: He knows that their revenge isn’t for his family, the real Ciel or guilt. It’s because he wants it. He’s angry, he’s upset, and this is entirely for him. The one being told this is the audience.

Except. Not really. The one either discovering or remembering these key moments - is always Sebastian.

Sebastian is the one who reassures him that he now holds the power of a demon to override the pain. Sebastian is the one who remembers that to override that pain, Ciel wants revenge. And Sebastian is the one who discovers that that revenge isn’t built out of grief or guilt, but for himself.

We are witnessing it all, through the eyes of Sebastian.

This is why we have an extremely vague idea of who Ciel is, Sebastian does not have the whole picture.

If you haven’t been reading this manga with your eyes closed, you’ll realize we have a better grasp at Sebastian’s character than that of Ciel. We get a lot of insight on how he thinks and what he values through light hearted dialogue he has with the servants. You even see the character development in these little interactions.

Think about how when he first arrived to the mansion he magically created food with no regards to taste, but when he meets Bard he states that food is created to see whoever will eat it, smile.

That is character development, more than you will be able to see from Ciel.

Because Ciel’s character, while not static, doesn’t go from point A to point B. Mostly, cause it doesn’t need to. He went through that when he lost the real Ciel and got Sebastian. Everything we are watching is the falling out.

Now, given the fact that I’ve told you that it makes more sense for Sebastian to be the protagonist/main character, and that he 100% isn’t either a villain or antagonist in ANY of the interpretations you can get:

Do you believe me?

If you don’t, you’ll probably believe Yana herself.

This is from the first Volume, where Yana herself describes the process of making Black Butler. The primary idea behind the creation of BB was a butler as a “hero”.

If you go back to the introductory chapter, you notice that Ciel is barely mentioned. He’s simply the one to give Sebastian impossible tasks and standards that Sebastian must find how to overcome.

Ciel is properly introduced until the NEXT chapter. The second chapter has this formula too, introducing Lizzie as a problem to overcome. Although, to Sebastian the best way to “get rid of the problem” is simply to indulge her.

The issue here being that the problem isn’t as simple as a business meeting but something directly tied to Ciel and Ciel’s past. Each time that Sebastian has to solve a problem, it chips away at Ciel. While with Lizzie he shows a persona, once he’s alone with Sebastian he acknowledges the toll it took on him. It serves to build Ciel as Sebastian’s master, and how some problems aren’t as simple as discarding a tablecloth.

The third and the fourth, are a unified narrative, with a similar premise to the first chapter. Ciel gets kidnapped and Sebastian must find a way to retrieve him without raising suspicions.

If the first chapter is to set up what Sebastian must do as a butler, the third and the fourth serve to set up what he must do as a demon.

The entirety of the volume, and up to Book of Circus Arc, is about how Sebastian tries to follow the increasingly absurd orders that Ciel has - it is not about Ciel trying to solve them.

That’s how they work, we follow Sebastian for the most part, because he’s the one having to come up with the solutions.

If anything, in early Kuro, where the emphasis was more on a slice of life conflict, Ciel is the antagonist. He’s the one creating problems for Sebastian to solve.

What’s more, in the second volume, the very first chapter is one from Sebastian’s POV. So far, we hadn’t gotten an entire chapter from Ciel’s POV. In fact, I would find it hard to point to a single chapter where Ciel is the POV throughout. The reveal of real Ciel and the flashback is the closest contender.

But once we move past early Kuro, and into Book of Circus, this set up changes.

It’s fairly easy to assume that Ciel is the main character, because from this point on the conflict of the plot sorta surrounded him. We spend a lot of time with him and with his story. The enemies start being people directly tied to Ciel and Ciel’s trauma. Rarely, if at all, we get to see Sebastian before he met Ciel.The framing device for the story, is Ciel.

This is where point 2 gets intertwined.

2.- Sebastian and Ciel’s relationship IS the story.

The story begins at the point where Sebastian and Ciel met. Who Ciel was before he met Sebastian, informs why he’s the way he is when he does. You have to know all he went through to understand why he’s a brat, why he lashes out. However Sebastian’s past doesn’t matter…because Sebastian himself doesn’t care much for who he was, before he was “Sebastian”. That’s also part of the narrative.

Unlike Ciel, he doesn’t seem opposed to revealing information from before the contract. He talks about how pets from where he is from are gross, he talks about how he knows how to dance because of other places he’s been to, and alludes to the life he's lived before.

Just that, to him, they're footnotes.

He makes allusions to a very bland, uninteresting life, up to the point he meets Ciel.

That’s why we don’t know more about his past.

As for why we focus on Ciel’s story…okay maybe we need Creative Writing lessons 102

I studied Dramaturgy for about 3 to 4 years. And something you notice is how play-writing is the quintessential story telling. It’s making it work with the bare bones of a story.

Some other mediums have more finesse, more depth, or more spectacle - all amazing things that work for whatever they’re created for. But understanding a play, how and why it works, helps understand the fundamentals of any derivative story telling medium.

Particularly, conflict.

Conflict is dialogue and dialogue can take many forms. A story, in its essence, is a dialogue between two opposing ideas.

Take Batman, for example, who embodies the ideas of justice and order. On his own, he’s not a well rounded character.

If you ONLY present him, in a vaccum with nothing else, you don’t have a character. You have a list of characteristics that you’re supposed to know.

You only know who he is when you have dialogue with another character.

I say Dialogue, but it doesn’t necessarily mean spoken language at one another. Dialogue can mean fist fighting, playing tabletop games, talking to other people about the other, or even just a competition. The idea is to simply to compare and contrast both ideas.

If you want an example on how tabletop games serve as dialogue, watch the video “Well, Someone Had to Explain the Liar’s Dice Scene” by Lord Ravecraft

Another example, were we to retake Batman, you have him fight Joker. Who’s the embodiment of chaos and randomness.

In the following picture, you get far more information than the one previously shown. While the Joke fights with daggers and fake guns, Batman only uses his fists. He doesn’t use the tricks that Joker does. His serious demeanor, contrasted with Joker’s glee at the dangerous situation. The fact that Batman has a deathly grip on Joker’s shirt, while the Joker doesn’t, which shows a desperation to catch him.

You are being shown, through a dialogue, who Batman is.

It’s so much easier and much more effective to explore a character through another character.

This is the reason why Shonen has a tendency to make incredibly good gay ships. If you want to explore Naruto’s personality, and his feelings of inferiority, you HAVE to have him interact with Sasuke.

If you wanna understand Hinata’s passion for volleyball, you have him enjoy himself the most with the only other crazy motherfucker who’s as obsessed with volleyball - Kageyama.

And I think that originally, Yana had this problem.

Sebastian was the protagonist, but she had little room to develop him as a character in the confines of the manor, dealing with random enemies.

She likely tried to create Grell as someone of the same stature as Sebastian. Someone who could be this other person to engage dialogue with and show or allude to his past a bit more.

The problem being that Sebastian didn’t care for his past. Or really, engaging with anyone. He sees everyone as below him, but when confronted with Grell who isn’t below him, he doesn’t wanna talk to her.

So you’re stuck in conundrum.

How do you have dialogue with a character, that as a character trait, doesn’t really wanna have dialogue?

Well, Grell also solves the problem. Because only the moment she gets him to start any semblance of a dialogue - is questioning why he’s serving Ciel.

And this is the moment when it’s perfectly cemented that the focus of the story is their relationship.

Why is Sebastian here? Why does he stay? What did he see in Ciel that made him want this extremely convoluted contract?

THATS the dialogue.

THATS the conversation we’re having in Black Butler.

We need to know Ciel because understanding who he is, let’s us know WHY /Sebastian/ is here.

Then slowly, with the introduction with the Undertaker, we find out Sebastian’s conflict.

Which is…

He’s scared of losing Ciel. It becomes apparent with the constant imagery of the Undertaker taking away Ciel and at some point even obtaining r!Ciel’s body, that he’s worried it might happen.

But he can only be worried that Ciel might be taken away if he wants to stay near Ciel.

And that’s his character arc.

Realizing that he actually likes Ciel, cares for him and the role he plays a butler that he doesn’t want this to end.

In the first chapters, he doesn’t feel a need to protect Ciel anymore than what’s strictly necessary. Just don’t die, that’s about as deep as his involvement in chapter 4 gets.

But by the Green Witch Arc, he feels a need to protect Ciel from ANY harm.

This is why I also said

3.- Their relationship is fundamentally a positive one.

In broad strokes, Sebastian to Ciel is the person who allows him to survive. He’s not worried about giving up his soul since he’s already dead. While Ciel to Sebastian, is someone who’s making him have fun. He’s slowly becoming more and more attached to Ciel and the life he has with Ciel.

Their relationship is not that of just a predator and prey, but also of master and pet.

In the terms that Black Butler itself would call: Sebastian is a wild wolf acting like a collared dog.

Ciel is aware that the wild beast will eat him at the end of the day, but if he clings hard to leash for now, he might just be able to have Sebastian maul his abusers.

Sebastian as a dog, currently finds that he enjoys being a chained dog.

(This is demonstrated in the Green Witch arc where he quite literally says, he doesn’t wanna be a wild beast and prefers to be a butler)

And much like the actual DOG Sebastian, Ciel constantly interprets his attempts to get close and protect him, as an act of aggression.

This push and pull of Ciel’s perception of Sebastian and Sebastian’s true motives is what feeds the story.

And the briefs interludes were that isn’t the case (what other people call the “plot”, but I would refer to as the connective tissue) such as Sullivan and Wolfram, the other servant’s past, the grim reapers and the like, serve as a parallel to Ciel and Sebastian relationship. Either to signify how they care for each other, highlight their weaknesses or fears, or explore how they feel.

It’s no surprise that Sullivan and Wolfram are parallels to Ciel and Sebastian. A sheltered sickly child who seeks the protection of a cold hearted machine that only knew how to kill, but who eventually found he cared for her genuinely.

Undertaker and Claudia’s relationship being heavily paralleled with them, even though we aren’t 109% sure what they had but heavily implied it was a romantic attraction from the undead supernatural creature and a Phantomhive.

Everything is a parallel.

That’s why, like the approach of the terrible original video, is flawed.

Trying to interpret Black Butler as action scene after action scene, with mystery after mystery with the only connective tissue being the mystery of who burned down the mansion - is missing the trees for the forest.

That’s not the point.

And if you’re too much of a prude to engage with gothic horror in its gothic horror game, I see little point as to why you even bother to engage with it at all.

A lot of people, including the person who create the video, simply refuse to acknowledge Black Butler IS the story of Sebastian and Ciel as a close and positive relationship, romantically and sexually charged. The reason for it being that they’re “put off” by it.

Part of me wonders how much that is genuinely true, and how much is just performative outrage. It’s like ignoring the fact that Cersei and Jami are in an incestous relationship and try to frame it as “platonic love”, because the idea of it is THAT off putting.

But regardless of that, if you don’t like the fact that it’s as canon as canon can get, I would reccomend you don’t engage with the story at all.

As I’ve explained, the entirety of the series is about them. If you refuse to see Sebastian and Ciel as, at the very least, a duo that cares deeply for the other - you aren’t reading Black Butler.

I have no idea what you’re reading.Perhaps your own biases and subconscious stigma with British aesthetic. At that point, watch the fucking British Royalty Gossip Magazine. You’d find more substance there.

Just don’t be like the person in the video, please? Don’t play dumb. Don’t ignore the fact that Yana is a Shotacon, don’t ignore the fact Sebastian is a hero, don’t ignore the fact that the entirety of the story is based on Sebastian and Ciel’s dynamic.

Because if you do, you are ashamed. You are ashamed of what this story is about. You don’t wanna engage with the text, you want to engage with yourself. You wanna project into Ciel whatever traumas and experiences you have, for the sake a vanity project, where you come out as the morally superior.

You don’t wanna talk about Black Butler, you wanna talk about how good YOU are. How you “don’t sin” by watching it “without all the gross unholy stuff”.

Which is the exact opposite of what BB is about.

So, if you don’t want to, save us all the humiliation fetish and leave.

#Kuroshitsuji #black butler #sebaciel #essay #loli speaks

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ineffable-suffering · 7 months

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Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

This is Part 2 of 3 total metas. Here are:

Part 1, in case you want to read about my analysis of the Story of Job first

and Part 3, in case you're impatient and want to jump ahead.

Fair warning though, for the sake of understanding some of the references, you're probably better off reading this chaptered meta chronologically. However, every part should work just as well as a standalone! I'll do my very best to make it so.

Alright, off or on you go beyond the cutty cut!

I'll start this second part off with a very brief summary of the main take aways and points from Part 1, which go as such:

Memory, as opposed to a third party's narration, is not a factual, objective retelling of a story or event. It's mingled and mangled with emotions, imaginations and exaggerations, projecting both the feelings and impressions you had back then as well as those you might have now in the present time back on whatever it is you are remembering. (Which is why we need to put everything that Aziraphale is remembering into the context of what he might have felt in the past, as well as what he's feeling right now.)

While this doesn't mean his (or anyone's) memories are lies, it does mean they're a very subjective and sometimes factually distorted representation of what actually happened, which, in our case, gives us a lot of subtext and a lot of not-there furniture to figure out and look at.

So, let's continue with S2E3 and the Story of wee Morag. We start our flashback with a scene of Aziraphale writing his diary entry on the 10th of November, 1827. Immediately, it's firmly established that this is once again not an outside-point-of-view narration, but rather what Aziraphale remembers and wrote down.

One thing that immediately stuck out to me here, is how helpful and kind Crowley is to Elspeth, pretty much from the very beginning when they meet her in the graveyard. Not only does he take on a Scottish accent so she won't perceive him as English (as she does with Aziraphale), but he also helps her drag the barrel that has the fresh body in it and, in the end, even pulls it all by himself while Elspeth simply follows behind them. Here's a rather poor-quality picture, for reference:

Now, we know that despite not showing it very often, Crowley has always been very fond of the humans and never really put himself on a pedestal simply because he's an immortal being himself. He likes humans, just like Aziraphale does. But, just like this story will tell us, Crowley knows that on top of liking humans, you can't just put them into boxes of good and evil and expect them to always do what is supposedly the "right" or "divinely good" thing to do. (Which is what differentiates him from Aziraphale in the way he understands and treats them, as we're shown in this minisode).

Him immediately and unspokenly helping Elspeth with dragging the barrel therefore might also be a first sign of a tiny projection from present day Aziraphale, as opposed to what Crowley might have actually done (probably just walked beside her, like Aziraphale) because he has the knowledge that Crowley really was so very kind to her in the end, wasn't he? And that he's kind to humans in general. ("Not kind! Off my head on Laudanum!" Sure, babe.)

Most of this minisode, in my opinion, is actually there to establish how Aziraphale's view of morality and good vs. evil used to be quite flawed and elitist –– and how Crowley has always been there to gently nudge him towards questioning his black and white view of heavenly right and hellishly wrong. That's why I think there's not as many hints in this minisode about Aziraphale's memories not being an accurate portrayal of what happened, as there are in the Story of Job or the magic show in 1941. (And, fear not, the latter will definitely be the most hint-heavy one). Alas, there's still a few bits and bobs in the Story of wee Morag that stuck out to me, that make a brief yet good case of the whole unreliable narration thing.

First of all: The way Aziraphale describes all of it in his diary is so different from the way we see him actually remembering it. It's almost like he tried to write this entry (and possibly all of his diary) as a bit of a thrilling short story, with himself as the main character. Which makes sense, given the fact that he adores books and would certainly be keen on dabbling in the art of capital-w Writing himself. It's yet again hinting at the fact that sometimes people (and angels) try to polish and bedazzle stories (and memories) to make them seem more exciting and adventurous, often to distract from the not-so-fun parts of it.

Like when Aziraphale's diary narrates:

"It was with heavy heart we arrived at Elspeth's destination. I was determined to thwart her monstrous plan!"

... and yet we see Crowley and Elspeth casually walking down the alleyway, very obviously not heavy-hearted in the slightest, while Aziraphale nervously scurries on behind them, very obviously not determined to thwart. (Timestamp-wise, it's around 17:38 in S2E3, in case you want to see for yourself.)

We get another cinematographic/auditory hint at the fact that Aziraphale's memory is heavily influenced by what he's feeling that very moment, when Dr. Mister Dalrymple –– FRCSE, thank you very much –– shows him the tumor he removed from the seven year old boy. You can see the shock and horror on Aziraphale's face once he learns of this child's cruel fate. We then proceed to hear Mr. Dalrymple's voice grow sort of echo-y and far away as the sad music swells up and drowns out his voice almost completely. It's awfully similar to what it feels like when really horrible news are broken to you and you dissociate and drift into a state of shock. Here's the clip of it, so you may listen for yourself:

It's clear that this is a very subjective portrayal of what Aziraphale is going through during this part of the memory. He's deeply horrified and saddened about the little boy having passed away so early in life – and we hear and feel this shock with him. Through him, because this is his memory. Whatever it is he's feeling and thinking, we're feeling and thinking it too because we're seeing it through his lense.

Another (less sad) hint at a possible exaggeration is the abnormally deep hole Crowley makes the two graveyard watch keepers fall into. I'm pretty sure he's very much in charge of his miracles, making this random slip-up seem a little silly – which is why I'm also pretty sure the "Might have slightly overdone it on that hole" is a wee bit of a meta hint at this just being another one of Aziraphale's dramatic bedazzlements of this story. For the *flings feather boa around neck* drama!

You know what else might be exaggerated? Hm, I dunno, maybe Crowley growing into the size of a tree for no apparent reason. Sure, yes, he's pretty high on Laudanum which is making him a bit loopy. But apart from that, it does seem an awfully big cinematographic euphemism for him being the metaphorical (and, once again, for the drama of it) literal bigger person in this scenario. He's the one who ends up saving Elspeth and who manages to secure a safe life without poverty and grave robbing for her. While Aziraphale was so tangled up in his own moral journey and main character-ism, missing that wee Morag was seconds away from death already, Crowley is the one who actually ends up growing stepping up for the human in need and saving them for good (pun intended).

In a way, it might just be Aziraphale's view of/feelings for Crowley in this very moment. Watching the demon outgrow what, according to Aziraphale's heavenly logic, is supposed to be a foul fiend, bestowing evil upon humanity – and growing into someone who does the exact opposite and saves Elspeth instead. Another larger-than-life character development, in Aziraphale's eyes. Literally.

Let's switch back to the topic of the diary entry one last time, so I can make my final point of the this minisode's unreliable and a smidge over-dramatic narration of Dr. McFell. If you pay close attention, Aziraphale starts the entry we're all getting to experience with: "Last month, Crowley and I both happened to be in Edinburgh." Which means it didn't actually happen on the 10th of November, but rather at some point in October, 1827. Once we see Crowley get hydro-pumped back to Hell after rescuing Elspeth, the minisode ends with, presumably, the last sentence of Aziraphale's diary entry: "And that was the last I would see of Crowley for quite some time."

Take my hand and let's look at where the furniture isn't: This very clearly means that Crowley couldn't have been gone for more than a month, at best. Read again: "It happened last month and that was the last I would see of him for quite some time." This, albeit indirectly, clearly implies that when Aziraphale had sat down to write the diary entry, he had already run into Crowley again. Otherwise his phrasing would have probably been more along the lines of "... and I haven't seen Crowley since" or "... and Crowley has yet to return from wherever it is Hell's currently keeping him".

What's the point I'm trying to make? Good question. I guess my main point of storyteller Aziraphale being a bit over-dramatic in his narration is simply backed up by this, since A Single Month would barely pass as "quite some time" for an immortal being like him. And yet that's how he puts it, in his little Confidential Journals of A.Z. Fell, Vol. 603.

And another point that has absolutely nothing to do with the topic of this meta (but I'm still gonna make it 'cause this is my memory post): The meeting at St. Jame's Park in 1862 that so many, post-S2, took to be their first run-in after the Story of wee Morag, actually wasn't that at all. They saw each other at least once only a month later, as Aziraphale's diary lets us know. Which explains why he wasn't very surprised or concerned when he met Crowley in London, 1862. If there really had been 35 years in between those two events, the first one ending with Crowley being sucked back Downstairs to receive more than three decades worth of hellish punishment, wouldn't Aziraphale have been at least a tiny bit worried or more interested than:

Just saying.

Alright, let's string this inflated hot air balloon of a post back together so we can outline some invisible furniture. This time with only two humble points:

Crowley through Aziraphale's lense Backed up by how we are introduced to Bildad the Shuhite in the Job minisode (suave, cheeky, smart, passionate in shoemaking and obstetrics), it's growing quite clear that Aziraphale's memories and impressions of Crowley are very fond and impressed ones. He sees him as someone who's not only witty, funny and cool, but also as someone who has figured out way sooner and faster than him that nothing's ever black and white. Not God's plans and not the human's choices either.

Aziraphale as a bit of an exaggerating adventure author With the direct parallel we get of inkslinger journalist!Aziraphale in the present day, it's quite apparent after this minisode that Aziraphale's memory is not only deeply influenced by his emotions, but that he also tends to have a bit of a dramatic touch to him. Although, you gotta give it to the guy: A month without seeing the love of your life, even if said life is eternal, can indeed seem like "quite some time".

Well, would you lookie here, we've reached the end of Part 2! What a journey it was. I hope you forgive me for the fact that I drifted off-course a few times. I just can't seem to reel in my silly little observations, even if they've got nothing to do with the point I'm trying to make. But hey, doesn't that just make me a little bit like Aziraphale's storytelling, in a way?

I'll let you be the judge of that.

See you in Part 3! And in case you haven't snuck a peak yet: here's Part 1 again.

Ta!

#good omens #good omens season 2 #gos2 #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #good omens analysis #aziraphale is a storyteller #but not a very accurate one #story of wee morag #my own meta #aziraphale the Drama Queen #shakespeare who #unreliable but beloved story teller aziraphale

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randoimago · 3 months

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For bg3, could I request platonic Wyll, Astarion, Gale, and Lae'zel finding a Tav that's quietly breaking down from all the pressure of having to save and comfort people all the time. Like they want to help people, but it's becoming too much for them.

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Astarion, Gale, Lae'zel, Wyll

Note(s): They all need therapy after this, but idk if therapy exists in D&D so give them spa days and alcohol instead

Astarion

As someone that voices his complaints easily once he's become close enough to let you in on his secrets, he also knows when the feelings are being buried away. While he doesn't want to tell you what to do, he does pull you aside when you're back at camp to exchange supplies.

Saving people and being a hero has never been something for him, mostly because he never had someone to save him. Until you came around, that is. And he thanks you for that, but you need to stop putting so much on your shoulders. You want to save people? Well you won't be able to do that if you collapse.

You've been a good friend to him, so let him do the same to you. Take a fucking break. Break into that newspaper building and change the article to something ridiculous. Do something for yourself. Astarion is more than happy to introduce you to some of his more fun morally grey activities just to get everything off of your mind. He has dealt with the aftermath of being burnt out and wasting away because bottling your emotions becomes too much, he won't see the same happening to you.

Gale

Notices you looking tired and suggests a break. He'll always be happy to lend and ear and offer some words of wisdom. Mostly, let yourself rest. You're already doing a lot and you should find a nice book and lay down in your tent for a bit to destress.

While Gale is trying to have his morals in the right place, he also knows not everyone can or deserves to be saved. It's valiant of you to try and offer help to anyone you can, but he can see the toll it's taking on you mentally, emotionally, and physically. Honestly, Faerun is a big place, let some other adventurers lend their help, you deserve some wine.

It's a shame that Magnificent Mansion or Tiny Hut aren't spells you can get in game, but Gale would happily cast Magnificent Mansion for you to just have an impromptu spa day. It's what you deserve for being his greatest friend and for all that you do for others.

Lae'zel

She knows being a leader is hard and there are many challenges you must step up to. People will constantly seek your help and look to you for advice. She has seen it by many of her githyanki superiors and thought nothing of it. And then she finds you cracking.

Tells you that as a leader, you can't show your cracks or you'll be seen as vulnerable to enemy attacks. While at camp, rest as much as you need. She'll keep watch while you let out whatever emotions that you need to.

Will also remind you, that you're her leader. You don't lead all the people you come across on the road, you owe them nothing. Technically, you owe Lae'zel nothing as well, you have the freedom to choose what to do, morals be damned.

Wyll

He notices the cracks and he fully understands. Hell, he sold his soul to a devil because he was failing. You're allowed to break down. You're allowed to rest.

While Wyll, likes the idea of helping anyone in need, even he knows that it can be too much. A lot has happened to all of you in a very short span of time, he understands needing to rest.

He considers you a good friend and ally and if you'd allow him, he'd be glad to take the lead and let you rest. He can at least listen to those you come across and offer them comfort if you're too drained to do so.

Taglist:

@reo-the-leo @unhelpfulnpc

#Anonymous #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion x reader #bg3 gale x reader #gale x reader #gale dekarios x reader #lae'zel x reader #bg3 lae'zel x reader #wyll x reader #wyll ravenguard x reader #bg3 wyll x reader

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cringefail-clown · 2 months

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Jakehal is very fun. But why dirkkri? I dont understand what's appealing about it :? confused

theres a lot of things i like about dirkri and honestly i dont even know where to start lmfao

first of all, and its mostly a funny reason - davekat on crack. like some traces of davekat are still there - the arguing about shit, stoic facade vs emotional mess, all the good stuff, but its also so much more exaggerated it makes it this much more ridiculous. gets even better when you consider them under the lense of swap aus like alphaswitch or tbau, where they land on the meteor together. theyre most likely hunting each other for sports by the year two

second of all, the funney. theyd be so fucking funny together. their smallest arguments would take like twenty pages of non-stop flow of red-orange text to resolve, and not because they came to a consensus but because some third party physically dragged them away from their electronics. it doesnt do any good, since it only gives them both time to think over new arguments to use, and theyre back at it as soon as they get their phones back. like if we had a tournament about which ship would do the most collateral damage to the overall group, i think these two would be Up There. karkat would gauge his eyes out from frustration, because now not only does he have to deal with his piece of shit, know-it-all other self, but now theres also Fucking Dirk thrown into the mix. their home life is absolute insanity, a small jab about the other forgetting to buy sugar once again devolves into a screaming match about the merits and flaws of communism or some other inane shit. and theyre doing it for fun, they enjoy debating with each other, because often times they have vastly different opinions, and comparing their beliefs challenges them intelectually and morally. from the outside perspective theyre one of the most dysfunctional pair in the paradox space, when in fact thats simply how they want their relationship to be, and it makes them better people overall.

third reason is that theyre thematically delicious. dirk is a control freak, micromanaging his and his friends constantly. hes terrified of losing control, but hes also desperate for someone to just tell him what the fuck he should do. dirk doesnt think he should be in control of others, because he believes hes a naturally evil person capable of horrible acts, at the same time he doesnt trust anyone else to get things done but himself. hes a whole collection of contradictions.

kankri desperately needs to be in control as well. hes constantly injecting himself into conversations he has no business being in, trying to find someone thatd listen to what he has to say. hes wants to guide others, but his efforts are flawed, because he doesnt listen to other perspectives - hes got tunnel vision, as he thinks hes the one in the right while everyone else is wrong or ignorant (cringefail seer literally). he doesnt trust anyone else to make decisions for him, and becomes defensive when he thinks others are attempting to coddle him. his ass was definitely culled on beforus.

theyre also both so fucking lonely. dirk conciously tries to put difference between himself and his friends, worrying hell "corrupt" them. kankri tries to connect to his friends, but his behavior alienates him from them to the point of no one except maybe porrim want to have anything to do with him.

my point is, kankri wants to guide people but has to learn to listen to others and reflect on his own flawed opinions. dirk has to learn to trust that people closest to him can get shit done on their own and loosen up, as well as realise hes not evil at the core. them helping each other out - dirk teaching kankri about different perspectives, kankri teaching dirk about letting others do their thing - is something i think about a lot.

also i like to think theyd spar for fun a lot as well. its not really a reason and wholly my own personal headcanon but i wanna mention it as well bc its so funny to me. i like the idea of kankris behaviour being a complete reverse of karkat - where karkat is all bark no bite and doesnt like fighting or violence, kankri puts up a front of the beacon of love and peace and tolerance, but in his free time he gets his rifle and goes shooting at the fucking squirrels or some shit. i think he wouldnt have the same qualms about strifing as karkat. like dirk would try to jokingly jab his finger at kankris side and he would just fucking flip him over his shoulder and onto the table breaking it in half, because he doesnt like being touched unexpectedly and by gods dirk when will you fucking learn. he goes from 0 to 100 real fast. its such a hysterical concept for me.

#homestuck #dirk strider #kankri vantas #dirkri #dirkkri #turnabout au #homestuck turnabout #alphaswitch #tagging it as well bc well. dirkri #is it dirkri manifesto? its dirkri manifesto #wally where are you i need your words tell em tell em why dirkri is so fucking good

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etaleah · 9 months

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I think a lot about how Shadow probably started out very similar to Sonic in his worldview but then the trauma surrounding Maria’s death changed that forever. It opened his eyes to a darker side of life that he can’t un-know, and he can’t ever be as optimistic and innocent as Sonic again.

Shadow didn’t attack the G.U.N. soldiers raiding the Ark because he likely believed, as Sonic does, that hurting people is wrong even if they deserve it and even if they hurt you first. He likely believed, as Sonic does, that you should always opt for the most moral, non-hurtful path, and he tried to take that path by escaping with Maria.

And then she was killed anyway. She and him did the right thing and the moral thing and she was killed anyway. Because it turns out the good guys don’t always win no matter what, and sometimes the bad guys don’t see the error of their ways. Sometimes you do have to get violent and dirty your hands if you want to protect what matters to you. Shadow had to learn those lessons the hard way and it changed him.

Now he’s trying so hard to make sure Sonic doesn’t have to learn this lesson the same way he did. He’s trying so hard to spare Sonic the pain and trauma and loss that he went through because he knows that Sonic loves his friends as much as he loved Maria. He warns him, over and over. Nine can’t be trusted, Mr. Tinker will turn back into Eggman, Cosmo can’t be left alive. He tries to tell him.

But Sonic doesn’t listen. Not only that, he mocks Shadow for it. He makes dickish jokes about “Lol your trust issues are why you have no friends” and “Well you lost your memory too sweetie, so shut ya face!” =)

And every single time, Shadow is proven right. He warns Sonic to try and spare him, Sonic ignores/is snarky to him, the exact problem Shadow predicted would happen does, and the cycle repeats again. And again. And again. No matter how many times Shadow is proven right, Sonic still won’t listen because he’s been lucky enough to never have experienced that level of trauma and unconsciously assumes, a little arrogantly, that what happened to Maria and Shadow could never happen to him or his friends.

I love Sonic and I understand his worldview too, but man do I get why Shadow wants to beat the fuck out of him sometimes.

#shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hegehog #space colony ark #maria robotnik #sonic idw #sonic comics #sonic x #sonic prime #sonic prime season two #sonic prime s2

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mediacircuspod · 9 months

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Obsessed with this scene and will be forever; A very long meta.

Your ‘exactly’ and my ‘exactly’ are different ‘exactly’s’

The Scene.

Crowley’s exactly means “We need to be safe and together and away from danger. Let me keep you safe.”

Aziraphale’s exactly means “We need to help because it’s the right thing to do, and we fix things when we’re together.”

Note though, that this is the only time they clarify with each other, and they don’t actually say what they mean, they say what they want to do.

“Let’s drop him off and leave him.” Vs. “Let’s take him in and help him.”

The dissection of this also poses the question, Why does Aziraphale think helping Gabriel is the right thing to do?

And the answer is; Crowley gives him the courage to do what Aziraphale thinks is the right thing and not what heaven decrees is good.

And we can come to this conclusion because Aziraphale for the first time ever, immediately and without hesitation, goes against heaven’s will, without having to be convinced or going through a cycle of indecision or guilt. This is… A. Big. Deal.

Season One.

Heaven’s good requires Armageddon to be complete, and under-way. And what does Aziraphale first say about it? “It’s all going to be rather lovely.” “I am not interested[in stopping Armageddon with you].”

Aziraphale loves the earth in this scene. He loves the people on it. He loves all the creatures great and small. He loves Crowley, too. And he still refuses. He needs Crowley to convince him, and even then he still thinks heaven will see sense once he fixes everything. He still believes that right, and good, and holy are the same thing. Even if sometimes he doesn’t agree with it.

Now, let’s go through some history. Between the two of them, for sure, but mainly Aziraphale’s.

An act of defiance; The giving away of a flaming sword. The guilt and worry Aziraphale feels after giving Adam and Eve a chance at survival is not something he gets over quickly. He worries that it was the wrong thing even though it felt right. And the problem isn’t the system that would make doing a good deed the wrong thing, the problem is him. The problem is Aziraphale.

Compliance; The flood. The crucifixion. “God’s a bit tetchy” he says before Mesopotamia is decimated. Aziraphale is clearly uncomfortable with the will of heaven here, but he does not disobey. He does what he is told because the will of God is good and right and correct. He does this same thing with the same reasoning during the Crucifixion of Jesus in 33 AD. Crowley gives us context with a few lines, “Your lot put him up there.” “I showed him all the Kingdoms of the world.” We see a demon who still doesn’t understand why good is so cruel, and knowledge is so evil. And we see an angel that refuses to be conflicted despite his own inherent morality. Because Aziraphale understands why Crowley has questions, he has them too by now. However, Aziraphale has something Crowley didn’t; he has the knowledge of what good intentions and well-meaning questions get an angel.

Doing bad in order to do good. Let’s talk about the Job mini-sode, because let’s be completely real; I’ll never be done talking about the Job mini-sode.

Aziraphale starts this episode thwarting evil. Something he is not conflicted about. You have to thwart evil when you’re good. That’s the whole dance at this point. Crowley stops the dance though, he presents a permit. A permit from a higher authority. Meaning that Crowley, the demon, is performing the will of not only Hell, but also of Heaven. A theme that IS THE WHOLE POINT OF SEASON 1. For all their want of a war, heaven and hell want the exact same thing.

Crowley even states, “The real ‘Big One’ will be between ‘all of them’ and ‘all of us’”. At the end of Season 1 Episode 6.

Aziraphale is horrified by this “permit”. And he goes to check on the validity in heaven, and well. He finds out that it’s real. He doesn’t go higher after that, because he knows you don’t question. He knows he can’t ask why? So he goes to Crowley. If Crowley doesn’t do the evil thing, then Aziraphale doesn’t have to break the rules to thwart it. And well, even though Crowley is a demon, Aziraphale doesn’t actually see him do demonic things all that much. Aziraphale still thinks that Crowley acts like an angel. He’s even starting to think that Crowley is on the side of good. Good being heaven. Crowley denies this, but Aziraphale doesn’t listen. Crowley says, “Kill the blameless Children of Blameless Job” and Aziraphale isn’t going to stop him. The demon has a permit after all. But then something miraculous happens.

A crow, bleats.

Aziraphale looks at a demon defying heaven, defying hell, and doing good. He doesn’t know it yet, but this is his first glimpse of their side. At this point, Aziraphale still thinks Crowley is a little bit on heavens side, because the demon is a little bit good. But then Crowley keeps saving the Children. Crowley stands before angels and he lies to save the children. He does something bad to do something good. And then.

So does Aziraphale.

An angel lies to save children. And then that angel thinks that decision is his undoing. He readies himself for a fall that never comes. Because Crowley is going to keep his secret. This is where Aziraphale once again starts acting with his own moral code. It’s important to remember something important though. Aziraphale still thinks he’s the one who’s wrong. Not heaven. The birth of “their side” coincides with the saving of Job’s children. But there’s a problem.

It doesn’t mean the same thing to each of them. To Crowley it means and end to his loneliness. To Aziraphale it means the beginning of his millennia long struggle of reckoning good with right. Their “exactly’s” don’t match, and they don’t clarify with one another.

The Book and the Bandstand; Aziraphale doesn’t tell Crowley. He doesn’t say, “Let’s go save the world, I found the anti-christ” He says, “Why would I know his shoe-size?” And Crowley doesn’t suspect a thing. Ouch. They disagree on how to continue. Crowley wants to cut their losses and run away. He wants to do this because he thinks they’ve already lost. And Aziraphale doesn’t give him a reason to hold on because despite everything, Aziraphale wants to be good in the heavenly way. He wants to give heaven a chance to do good, too. A higher authority will surely agree with him. And now, he has the courage to ask. Only after he is turned down by heaven does he make his own decision. He steps into ‘their side’ safely, because Crowley had built it that way.

And he saves the world. With Crowley, and the Anti-Christ, and a series of human beings.

Aziraphale retreats to the safety that Crowley has built for them and that he himself has built as well, despite constantly looking over this shoulder. And he finds comfort there. It is the entire reason he finds himself comfortable making his own choices in Season 2, regarding what is good. It’s why he helps Gabriel, and it’s how he gets Crowley to do it too.

You might even say that Aziraphale embraces ‘their side’ more than ever in Season 2. He includes Crowley in all of his plans, excitedly tells him information he finds, calls the bookshop, the Bentley, and their existence, ours. Oppose this directly with Crowley who, in the name of keeping Aziraphale safe, actually just keeps him in the dark(The threat of extreme sanctions, Gabriel’s trial, etc.)

Exactly vs Exactly; AND STILL THE ENDING MAKES SENSE. I have a whole meta HERE about the reason Aziraphale made the decision he did, but I want to talk about it a little bit more. Because it’s the same problem. Their “exactly’s” are different, and neither of them asks the other to explain why.

In this particular case of the ending scene of Season 2, in place of the phrase “exactly” they use the word “together”.

Aziraphale wants Crowley with him in heaven, because they fix things when they’re together. And Aziraphale has faith they they can fix heaven. “We can be together” is how he presents it to Crowley. Crowley rightly sees this as naive, and he’s upset that Aziraphale thinks he wants to be something he’s not anymore.

He finds it hurtful that Aziraphale wants him to change.

“We can go off together” Is what Crowley counters. He says all of this is awful, please let us go off somewhere the danger isn’t. Let me keep you safe. Aziraphale doesn’t want to run away. He wants to save the world again. He wants to save it with Crowley. He wants them both to be good, too.

IT’S THE SAME ARGUMENT.

Only Crowley doesn’t let Aziraphale win this time. Aziraphale isn’t right this time. And Crowley isn’t wrong. (I mean I don't think he's right either, they need to find a compromise that isn't the toxicity of heaven and isn't the loneliness of running away.) This time he says, “It’s finally too much, you’re finally asking me to do too much.” Crowley for the first time ever, when asked to make the decision between the two of them, chooses himself. Neither of them explain themselves, and neither of them asks the other to do it either. Because asking questions has always been dangerous for both of them. Anyway, this season makes my brain buzz and I love the ending so much.

#its the “Let me fix it for you” but hearing “Let me fix you for it” dilemma that I said in my Job post #good omens #good omens meta #good omens 2 #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens spoilers #go2 spoilers #okay? okay.#but instead its exactly? exactly.#and instead of sweet its actually heartwrenching #I won't stop talking about this EVER

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that-student-that-has-homework · 2 months

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Al-Haitham Headcanons 03

For more Al-Haitham content: Tumblr MasterList

Have some Papatham or should I say Babatham headcanons!

As a dad, Al-Haitham is something else

This guy functions on rationality.

While he once said violence is a mode of negotiation, he isn't keen on it.

So when it comes to his kids, he will rationally walk them through whatever behavior they did that was deemed unacceptable, and explain it to them until they come to the realization that: oh yeah, what I did wasn't good.

He keeps his promises and doesn't go back on his word.

he said he’d take them somewhere? He’d get them something? He absolutely will

if he can’t because of circumstances out of his control he will communicate it to them in a way they understand

he will also make it up to them in some way. promises are to be kept.

no means no. He will not change his answer. Not easily…

As his kids get older, to encourage them to think and contemplate, he will offer them opportunities to "convince" him to change his mind through logical argument.

They fail most of the time, but the few times where they succeed are so sweet, they're giddy for like the rest of the day.

They even rush to you like: mama! Mama! I convinced baba, BABA! Can you believe it?! I convinced baba, to let me stay with *Amo (uncle) Kaveh for the weekend! Can you believe it? Baba?! I convinced Baba?!

Of course you'd just look at Al-Haitham like, “and I wasn't asked about this, why?”

You’re so proud of the kiddo. Al-Haitham is too, he looks very pleased with his child’s ability to debate.

if you ask him about it, he’ll go into great detail and even provide a commentary.

He might even consider giving them something to help them win against him in the future too.

Them winning arguments against their dad is a childhood highlight

Again, even if they’re his kids, Al-Haitham has little tolerance for them disrespecting you

While you insist that it should only be one parent disciplining a child at a time, if your kid disrespects you while you're talking to him, Al-Haitham will show up and stand behind you and give the kid a disapproving look.

His kids know about their father's lack of tolerance of disrespect towards their mother, so the kid knows what that look means.

he just stands there, like moral support for you. He knows you have to be the one to establish boundaries for your children

These kids are loved, but they are far from spoiled

The kids have a lot of access to books and literature. No surprise right?

Asking baba for a book is like asking him for a glass of water. He doesn't even think twice

For other things though...he's more difficult

Their Uncle Kaveh though? He is more likely to spoil them without thought.

especially if it annoys Al-Haitham or he said no.

Al-Haitham instead, especially as they get older, will again encourage them to "convince" him that it's a worthy investment.

How difficult it is to convince him depends, the kids have mixed success

This guy does not care about grades/academic standing.

he only cares so far as they don’t get kicked out completely: he wants them to get whatever certification they needed to support themselves through life

He is very open about his criticisms regarding the educational system.

his kids do well regardless

he wants the same comfort and freedom for his kids that he has secured for himself

#alhaitham #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin x y/n #genshin imagines #genshin impact fanfics #al haitham headcanons

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relic-seeker · 3 months

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it's always really weird reading fics or looking at art of hollow knight & specifically the pale king, because the interpretations of him i see are COMPLETELY different to one another.

one moment i might be seeing him as a flawed yet noble king, then others he's the scourge of the whole kingdom.

it's really odd for me because i simply cannot see any king ever as a "good guy" in any respect -- this comes from living in britain, under a very corrupt monarchy. unfortunately this then reflects onto how i see the pale king as well -- i don't really know how to feel about him because mostly what i feel is a hatred for the system in general.

there are very valid criticisms of him from a contemporary human pov: all the stuff with vessels & using a living creature to seal an Infection for the greater good; leaving the rest of the vessels at the bottom of the abyss after he picked the 'perfect' one; colonising hallownest in the first place when there were clearly natives etc; implementing the strong caste / class system in hallownest-- there may be more but that's what i think of from the top of my head

yet, a lot of people spin these things to make him a very positive force in hallownest. lots of people interpret his relationship with the white lady as something very loving, or the moment you see at the end of the path of pain is something that shows he may have wanted to care for his child but couldn't due to the duty of sealing the Infection. even the fact he built a monument in the centre of the capital city to his child is enough to show he clearly cared for the hollow knight.

i think something that aids the understanding of who he is is putting it all in the context of possibly being someone from hallownest: wouldn't you truly believe that the hollow knight was truly hollow & save everyone? i can't remember the source for it, but i think there was an inkling somewhere (correct me if wrong) that the public of hallownest didn't even believe the king's plan was going to work -- shows a degree that he didn't completely brainwash the entire kingdom into loving & worshipping him... plus in the sense of being a controlling & powerful king, he does everything majorly right -- basing my views on that of the medieval european feudal system etc (ive not much knowledge of other ways kingdoms ran, my history degree hasn't started yet).

either way, i think the pale king is certainly morally grey at best but he's got a code of conduct -- imagine him as lawful neutral if you will. in terms of alignment, it seems that most put him somewhere in the lawful category but evil or good, but that just doesn't feel right. a truly good person probably would not seal their hundreds of children down in a deep pit (whether they thought they were hollow or not) & a truly evil person would not go to the lengths & agony to save his entire kingdom.

therefore: the pale king has a set of morals & codes he abides by, but they can definitely be questionable! but he's as complex as any other person & i LOVE seeing interpretations where he's portrayed in a fairly positive light :D

(especially all compared to my uhh anti-monarchy stance)

#thoughts #hollow knight #pale king #analysis of his alignment - whether he's a good / evil dude

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gatitties · 3 months

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Can you do straw hat pirates with a reader who has alexithymia? (you can search it through google and its symptoms)

─Strawhats x reader

─Summary: Your impassive face and lack of expressions don't seem to bother your friends at all.

─Warnings: none

─ You tend to be very direct in terms of communication, you don't seek to express yourself in an empathetic way in some situations, not because you don't want to, but because it is too difficult for you.

─ You don't understand emotions very well, much less know how to express how you feel when faced with different stimuli.

─ Robin tries to help you with that, she makes you read some books that can help you better understand your own feelings.

─ Luffy will play with your face in some situations, moving your eyebrows to frown or pulling the corner of your lips to smile, at least it helps you stretch your facial muscles.

─ You avoid getting stuck in situations that require a lot of emotional attention, dramatic or emotional moments… you prefer not to be present since you don't know how to feel about the events.

─ Although Franky and Sanji probably drag you against your will, encouraging you to be there even if you can't feel as much complicity as them, they appreciate your presence even if your face doesn't reflect emotions.

─ Chopper is investigating if there is any medical solution for the lack of emotions or the complexity in expressing it, Jinbe also does a little search on this in some old books.

─ Brook tries to reach your emotions through music, which partially works, some tears spill from your eyes when you hear the melody, however you can't verbalize how it makes you feel.

─ It's not a big problem for others, after all Zoro follows you in the problem of accepting feelings, although his is due to stubbornness and pride, he can understand you perfectly.

─ Your opinion is linked to true and reliable things instead of sentimental things, which makes it difficult for you to make some moral decisions.

─ When you are in conflict with your reasoning and feelings, you always decide to think about what Nami would do, she was a reliable source of information for you and helped you differentiate between some of your emotions.

─ In general, everyone knows your difficulties, they know that they cannot expect you to react in the same way as some of them, but that's okay, the important thing is that you strive to be able to express yourself better day by day.

#op #one piece #one piece x reader #request #sfw #strawhats #strawhats x reader #reader insert #x reader

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blackypanther9 · 2 months

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How M/n met Mimzy

WARNING!: Cursing, insulting words, threatening, Racist behavior (in memories), angst, Reader is supportive of Alastor, mention of drugging, poisoning, abuse AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!

A/N: Remember it is only a fanfic and I just built in background ! Nothing is REAL nor intented to hurt anyone ! Picture belongs to rightful owner ! zeotropes0 The sick part is after the Mimzy part it starts at "M/n felt like utter shit."

TAGLIST!: @zoetropes0, @l0liamk @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved

Words: 7 365

It had been almost 3 years since M/n was living with Alastor. They formed a strong and very close bond too, in that short time. The Radio Host found it high time, that M/n met one of his close friends, Mimzy.

The boy was excited and nervous since Alastor informed him about that. That day was a Friday and the second week of the month in October. Alastor got Saturday and Sunday off from work and decided to meet up with Mimzy again.

“So...what are they like ?”, M/n asked his Father.

Alastor didn’t tell M/n that it was a girl. All he said was “a friend”.

“Oh, you’ll LOVE her, mon petit (My little one) ! She’s a real Sweetheart !”, Alastor replied happily.

M/n stopped dead in his tracks, of cleaning up his Dad’s office. He turned to him, stiffly.

“HER ?”, the boy repeated and stared at his Father, who just threw away packages of their lunches from the day.

“Yes indeedy ! You’ll love her ! And I’m sure she’ll love you as well !”

M/n suddenly didn’t feel too sure about that anymore. With his Dad’s new Boss, after Mr. Floyd was found dead in the park not far from here, he started to get very possessive and protective of his Father.

Miss Revonna Ducasse was her name. She constantly tried to get into his pants. M/n couldn’t really blame all the women that threw longing eyes at his Father. He looked handsome and well groomed, he was an absolute Goofball, he never complained about anything, he had manners, he had high morals, he was well raised despite his bad Childhood and he was an absolute charming Gentleman. There was nothing to hate about him. At least in M/n’s opinion.

Of course there were haters. The racists mostly. Because his Dad had a mixed skin color. What M/n loved most about his Dad was that he was a Creole. He spoke English and French. It gave him a slight accent in his voice, but Alastor always tried to suppress it, no one ever really heard his accent, not even M/n did. Why was Alastor hiding his New Orleans accent ?

Because he is ashamed to have it. His Father and a few kids in his school made fun out of him for a long time. His Father later on forced him to speak, what he considered, normally. His Mother was the only one that was still allowed to hear it, as she was still alive. After she died, he always suppressed it.

How did M/n know about his Father’s accent ? Well...let’s just say a lot of people have it around and it confused the boy greatly, until Alastor explained it to him. He knew that his Father was born and raised here, so M/n came to the simple conclusion that he suppressed his accent, for whatever reason. M/n pestered him about it once and Alastor spilled the tea.

Why did M/n not have that accent ? His birth parents and Sister didn’t have that accent. He supposed they came from a different state and then just moved here. After all...Alastor had to teach M/n French, to understand his Dad and to communicate with him, when he doesn’t want anyone else to know, what they are discussing.

M/n was not as thrilled anymore, to meet his Dad’s friend. It was a girl. YUCK !

“Are you sure you can trust her, Papa ?”, M/n asked gently.

He turned to his Son.

“Of course I am sure, Cher !”, he said, surprised that his Son seemed to not like the idea as much anymore.

M/n bit his lip and only nodded gently.

“Parle-t-elle français ? (Does she speak French ?)”, M/n asked.

“Elle le fait un peu. (She does a bit.)”

So M/n can’t converse with his Dad in French...great...

“Applesauce.”, M/n cursed in a huff.

Alastor looked at his Son in slight concern. Why was he so annoyed suddenly ?

“What seems to be the Problem, Son ?”, he asked gently.

“I don’t like that she can partly understand and speak French. I hate it when people understand what we converse. What if there is something I want to tell you and she is not supposed to hear it ? I will have to wait until we are home and who knows what could have happened until then !”, the boy stressed.

Alastor gave him a confused look.

“What are you implying, mon petit ?”

M/n looked at his Father, as if he was the most stupid man on earth.

“With all due respect, Papa...HAVE YOU LOOKED AT YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR ?!”, M/n yelled and wildly pointed all over Alastor’s figure.

The Radio Host grew insecure about his form. What was his Son trying to get across ?

M/n saw insecurity creeping into his Father and he huffed. He approached his Father, snatched his hand in a tight grip and dragged him away, to the men bathroom. He locked the door behind himself and then pushed Alastor in front of the full body mirror.

The Radio Host could see his Son’s glare, arms crossed over his chest. Even though he was soon a 9 year old boy, he seemed very wise.

“What do you see, and do not DARE to lie to me.”, M/n said.

Alastor looked into the mirror, nervously.

“Uhm...What...am I supposed to see, Cher ?”

M/n face palmed.

“Look at yourself in the mirror and tell me what you see, when you look at yourself. Applesauce, Father !”, M/n cursed with a slight glare.

Alastor did and memories came crashing back down on him. His smile wavered.

“Look at you ! Disgusting ! Look how brown you are !”

“Eww ! Why is he so dark ?!”

“Freak !”

“Just as disgusting as your Mother ! I knew it was a stupid idea to marry that Bitch and have a brat like you with her !”

“He needs a bath to wash the color off of his skin !”

_________________

Children pushed him into the mud and “Bathed” him to be browner.

“Let’s bathe him in mud, so he will get darker ! Hahahaha !”

“Stop it ! Please, stop it !”, his younger self sobbed out.

He couldn’t control how he came out. Why was he punished for this ? Why did color of skin matter ?!

_________________

His Father threw him onto the ground outside, onto small stones. His grin was sinister.

“Come on, Brat. You need a bath.”

His child self sobbed, staring at his Father in fear. His own Father...

The man grabbed small stones in his hands, snatched his younger self’s left arm and started to roughly rub the stones on his skin. Causing the boy to cry and his skin to split open. He tried to pull it away.

“Maybe you are lighter underneath once this disgusting layer is off !”, the man mocked the boy.

“Dad ?”

“Rub it off !”

The boy tried to fight his Father off.

“Papa ?!”

“RuB iT oFf !”

He continued to fight him, yelling and screaming in pain, but the man didn’t stop.

“Papa !”

“RUB IT OFF !”

There was so much pain and blood-

“PAPA !!!”

Alastor jolted out of his memories with a flinch. He looked at M/n from the mirror, who had wide eyes of worry and fear. Unshed tears stood in the boy’s eyes, which confused Alastor, until he looked at himself in the mirror.

His smile was gone, his fingers were digging into his arms, which were in front of his chest and tears were running down his cheeks. He was in every aspect...NOT alright. He jolted in surprise as something collided with his legs and waist. He looked down and saw his Son, hugging him tightly.

He released his hold on his arms and ran his right hand through his Son’s hair, gently.

“I see a dark skin colored man, with a weak figure and he has silly little tantrums over nothing.”, Alastor answered softly.

That’s how he really felt, since his own Father hated him. He was the hated child since he was born. The only one who loved him...was his Mother.

M/n squeezed his Father’s legs, before he let go.

“That is not true at all, Papa.”

“You wanted me to tell you what I see. I see just that when I see...myself.”

Alastor yelped in surprise as he felt a smack on his ass, a harsh one. He looked at his Son in the mirror, M/n’s eyes gave him a harsh stare back.

“Well then, here is what me and many others see, you absolute Dumbo !”

Alastor felt slightly insulted, but kept it in for now.

“I see a very charismatic man, he is charming, sweet, gentle, understanding, has a big heart, loves to do his job, loves to help, hates people with bad manners and he is so much more showing into the open world. The man, me and many others see, is handsome, a Gentleman, looks always well groomed, he is an absolute Goofball, he never complains about anything, he has manners, he has high morals, he was well raised despite his bad Childhood and he is an absolute Sweetheart.”, M/n listed off.

Alastor’s eyes were wide in shock and awe. That’s how his Son saw him ?

“You always dress properly, you always talk politely, you never show your annoyance, whatever you do, you do it politely. You barely lie, you take care of the people you care about and it is easy to make friends with you. You are easy to approach and talk to. You can make someone feel very welcomed and listened to. Not many have these traits, Papa. All in all...you are true Husband material. You scream ravishing and sexy no matter where you are.”, M/n continued.

The Radio Host looked at M/n from the mirror, while he eyed himself too. He never saw the appeals. If M/n points all that out though...he had a point.

“Where are you going with this, Cher ?”, Alastor asked gently.

“What I am getting at is that a lot of women are attracted to you and would do anything to get into your bed ! You scream sexy ! I don’t want you to think that girl pals will suddenly be happy, with you just being their friend ! Stay alerted ! Friends like that could easily use you ! I want what is best for you and I saw many women and even a few men eye you like candy in a store !”, M/n yelled at him frustrated.

At that Alastor turned around and actually looked at his Son. Was that all ? M/n was worried about him ? Overprotective ? He gave his Son a small smile.

“Are you worried about me or jealous that you could lose all my attention ?”, he asked his Son.

“I am concerned for you, Dad. Miss Ducasse already tried multiple times to get into your pants, claiming that she was your Boss and you have to listen to her. Do you really think I would not hear that Blueberry juice ?”, he asked him stressed out.

Alastor’s smile wavered. Ah yes...Ducasse tried to force him into sexual activity with herself, by threatening to fire him. Since then M/n was most of the times with him and if he wasn’t one of his coworkers waited for him to arrive and be by his side at all times. He still had no idea how they knew.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and gave his Son a big smile.

“Don’t worry about me, Cher ! Nothing bad will happen !”, he assured him.

Then he looked at his watch and tutted.

“We have to hurry, otherwise we will be late to meet up with her !”

With that he unlocked and opened the door. M/n followed behind his Father. He had a BAD gut feeling about this...

And his gut was NEVER wrong before.

-Time skip-

They finally arrived at their destination, which was a bar. M/n looked around in nerves and Alastor led him to a table. It was close to a small stage in the bar and M/n felt even worse in his gut. He looked around, nervously.

“Relax, Cher ! Nothing bad will happen here.”, the Radio Host assured the boy with a smile.

Then a waitress came and asked for their orders. Alastor ordered himself a New Orleans Sazerac and for M/n a nonalcoholic orange juice. She noted it all down and then left to get them their drinks.

Suddenly music started and the stage lit up. Alastor had a big smile on his face and looked at the stage. M/n turned and looked too, soon enough there was a woman. She was a bit on the shorter size, she started to sing. M/n didn’t like her voice all that much...

It was a good song, but the woman’s voice just didn’t really fit for it. But as he looked at his Father, he only saw him smile and enjoy the show.

‘How can he like the song with this voice ?’

Soon enough their drinks arrived and Alastor was casually sipping his New Orleans Sazerac. M/n didn’t touch his juice and looked at the female, singing. He scoffed in his mind, knowing he could do better with his kid voice. He can sing his Father’s favorite song without any help and would sing better than her.

‘This is gonna be a loooong night...’, M/n groaned annoyed in his mind.

He looked at his happy Father again. He didn’t glare at him, but he would so love to at the moment.

‘The things I do for him...He better be happy for the rest of this week, otherwise I will NEVER come here with him again. This is pushing my patience...This woman is NOT my cup of tea...’

-An hour later-

The show was over, finally.

‘Finally ! I thought I will die soon enough !’

Some songs were alright, with that voice of the woman, but most of them didn’t really...get the glory and appreciation with that voice. In his eyes it sounded like a woman’s voice trying too hard to fit with every song. In some it just...didn’t sound good. That so many clapped at that, his own adoptive Father included, is beyond him.

What M/n couldn’t help with though...was questioning himself with where his Father’s girl buddy was. She is an hour late. Did his Dad lie to him, to go drinking ? He had his second New Orleans Sazerac and M/n had his fifth orange juice.

Ten minutes passed as suddenly the same voice, from the woman on the stage from before, called out Alastor’s name. M/n snapped his head around and stared at the woman, that approached their table with a smile. He looked at his Father and his eyes almost bulged out of his skull, his old man was smiling at her and waved her over.

‘Oh HELL NO.’

M/n slumped his shoulders for three seconds then sat back up properly and looked at her.

“Hello, dear Mimzy !”, Alastor greeted happily.

Alastor waited for her to approach and then she sat down on the chair next to Alastor, practically in front of M/n. He fought very hard the glare he wanted to send her and looked at his Dad instead. He looked at his Son in return, with a bright smile.

“M/n, this lovely woman is Mimzy. Mimzy, this is my Son, M/n.”, he introduced the two of them.

She gave the boy a smile and waved at him.

“Hello there, little one. Nice to meet you.”, she greeted warmly.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Miss Mimzy.”, M/n politely greeted back, a smile on his face.

He knew women like Mimzy. She was just putting up a show right now. She was NOT friendly. Alastor chuckled and emptied his glass again, then stood up, looking at them both.

“I need to use the restroom. Please do get acquainted, you two.”, Alastor encouraged them, then left.

“Be careful, Papa !”, M/n called after him.

“I will be, Cher !”, Alastor replied and then was gone.

M/n turned to Mimzy and as expected...she glared at him.

“So you are the little runt, Al took in out of pity.”, she snarled.

M/n glared back at her.

“Excuse you ? What did you fucking call me, bitch ?”, the soon to be nine year old asked darkly.

“Oh and such bad manners towards a Lady too. How disgusting.”, she said with an insulted voice.

“I’m not a mirror, woman. You called me a fucking runt. Do you really expect me to still be polite, when you can’t be polite towards me ? You want my respect ? Fucking earn it.”, M/n growled out with a death glare.

“Respect your elders, you rude brat.”, she scoffed.

“Respect your next generation, if you still want the world to turn, after your departure, disgusting, foul, bitch. Your future is in OUR hands. The next generation’s hands.”, M/n spat.

She glared harshly at him, which didn’t intimidate M/n. He stayed strong and didn’t look away at all. Staring contest ? You are on, Mimzy.

“I will tell you how this will go now, brat. I want you gone, away from MY Alastor, in a week. You aren’t until then, I will make him get rid of you.”, she threatened M/n.

The boy scoffed.

“For what do you take me for ? A stupid child ? Listen here whore, my Father doesn’t belong to you, he doesn’t even belong to me. I belong to HIM. Big difference, sugar cube. Alastor OWNS me. You want to own him and I won’t let that happen. Curl up and die, bitch.”, M/n told her darkly and gave her the finger.

“What would Alastor just think, if he hears about this, hmm ?”, she asked with a grin, thinking she had the upper hand.

M/n smirked back.

“What would Papa think, if he finds out what kind of bitch his friend is, hmm ? He believes me everything, because I never lie. He KNOWS he can trust my words more than anyone’s.”, he countered.

Her eyes grew wide at that. Her face turned red and the soon to be 9 year old could see how angered she was at that. Then M/n saw his Father return and pretended like nothing happened. He gave Mimzy a subtle smirk, only she could see and then a wink. She scowled.

“So, what have I missed, you two ?”, Alastor asked happily as he sat back down.

M/n looked at his Father with a big smile.

“Not much. Can I have another glass of Orange juice, please, Papa ?”, M/n asked with a smile.

Alastor smiled warmly at his Son, thinking he warmed up to Mimzy, and nodded. He called over a waitress and asked for a glass of whiskey and a glass of orange juice. After the waitress left, Alastor suggested that Mimzy would talk about her life a bit, before she came here as performer.

With that they stayed for at least another hour, listening to Mimzy’s life story, which didn’t interest M/n at all, after the stunt she pulled. He just wanted to get out and never come back, with his Father in tow.

M/n gave Mimzy very little information about himself, which Alastor respected. It took M/n a bit, to warm up to him too. After it was starting to get really late for M/n, in Alastor’s opinion, he decided to pay for the drinks he and his Son had, to say Goodbye and then he went home with M/n.

“So, how was she, Cher ?”

‘An absolute self centered, needy, bratty Bitch...’

“She was alright, I guess. I still need time to connect to her, but I think we will get there, Papa.”, M/n lied easily.

For Alastor, the boy didn’t speak his mind. He wants to keep his Father safe and sheltered, but he doesn’t want to see him sad either, so he will not tell him that they both hate each other and they insulted one another.

“That’s good news, mon petit !”, the Radio Host replied happily, unaware of what really happened.

As they arrived home, Alastor quickly got to cooking a warm meal and M/n went to his room and started to get dressed into his Pyjamas. He washed his hands and growled. The last glass of Orange juice tasted weird. Mimzy brought it. Did she spike it ?

“I swear if this hoe spiked my drink...I will go fucking wild...”, he growled under his breath.

After a few minutes, Alastor called M/n down for Dinner, which he quickly sat down for. Together they ate their meal and then went to bed. M/n promised to wash the dishes tomorrow morning for him.

-The next day-

M/n felt like utter shit. He twisted in bed, didn’t want to get up either. His stomach was doing flips and it was hurting. Mimzy did put something in his drink then...

The door opened to his room.

“Mon petit~! Wake up, rise and shine !”, Alastor cheerily called.

He had a bright smile on his face, but it weakened as he heard his Son groan weakly. M/n never did that, he always got up and greeted him with a yawn. He opened the curtains for the windows and then approached the bed, with M/n inside it. He knelt down and looked at the boy’s face, which was hidden in the blanket.

“Cher ? What’s wrong ?”, he asked worried.

M/n couldn’t speak. He was afraid to throw up if he did. He waved his hands slowly around and tried to communicate with his Dad like that, but Alastor didn’t understand anything. Why was he waving his hands slowly, instead of talking ?

The boy got tears in his eyes. He wanted to speak, but he felt too on edge of throwing up, to do so. He pointed to his desk. It took Alastor a bit to understand what he wanted him to do, but he turned to the desk.

“You want me at your desk ?”, he asked his Son and looked at him.

A thumbs up.

Alastor got up and went to it.

“What now, Cher ?”

M/n made a motion for his note book and a pen, then motioned a writing motion carefully.

“You want me to get your note book and a pen ?”

Thumbs up.

Alastor grabbed the items and then returned to his Son’s side. M/n VERY carefully sat up and took the items, his teeth clenched shut and Alastor saw how pale his Son was. He slowly wrote into the note book. As he finished he gave his Father the book to read.

I don’t feel good. Feel like vomiting and my stomach is all over the place.

He looked at his Son and gave the book back to him.

“Do you know what caused it ?”, he asked.

Again M/n wrote then gave it back to Alastor.

I think it was the last glass of orange juice. Tasted different than the other glasses I had.

His eyes widened at that and he rushed down the stairs as fast as possible, almost falling over his own feet twice. He ripped up his phone and quickly called his house Doctor. He picked up quickly and answered.

“Mr. Hugo, I think my nine year old Son got drugged yesterday ! What shall I do ?!”, Alastor panicked.

On the other line the man replied and asked questions.

“I don’t know ! He said the last orange juice he had yesterday evening tasted funny ! All he had after that was Dinner, but he didn’t complain ! His face was only scrunched up with the last glass of orange juice ! He feels like throwing up and his stomach is all over the place !”

He was silent again, worried sick. What if his Son will die ?! No, no, no ! He can’t think like that !

“Alright ! I will do that ! Thank you ! I will see you there !”

He hung up and hurried to get ready to leave the house, then he rushed to his Son’s room, who laid back down and was confused. Alastor picked him up, bridal style and still wrapped up in his blanket, then he went out of the room, down the stairs, out of the house and put M/n into his car, in the back.

Then he closed the car door and rushed back into the house. He got a bucket for his Son and then he got a few clothes for M/n packed, then he rushed back out, locked the house door, jumped into his car, started the engine and drove off.

“We are driving to the hospital, M/n. Hold on and try to not puke.”, Alastor said with a frightened voice.

The boy felt bad for worrying his Dad and slowly lifted his arm, showing a thumb up. Alastor hurried over to the hospital quickly and there his house doctor already stood. Dr. Hugo. The Radio Host stopped the car, turned off the engine, unlocked the car and then jumped out, while the doctor also rushed to the car.

Alastor carefully got out his Son from the back and then turned to Dr. Hugo. He looked at M/n’s pale face and took a sharp inhale.

“This pale skin is NOT normal, not even for sick kids. Follow me, Mr. Hazbin.”, Dr. Hugo said and rushed into the hospital.

Alastor locked up his car and ran after his doctor, with M/n in his arms.

“I need an empty room ! We need to pump out a little boy’s stomach ASAP !”, Mr. Hugo yelled.

Nurses and other doctors rushed around at that and the three were led into an empty patient room. Alastor put him down on the table and Dr. Hugo was about to shoo him out, but he saw how tightly M/n held his Father.

M/n was scared shitless. He had no idea what was going on and Alastor was the only one, he could trust and he knew him best. Everything went too fast, too much stress at once, he was so scared. He didn’t want his Father to leave.

Alastor looked down at his Son and saw that M/n was so scared that he even let tears fall. His plea was obvious.

He wanted him to stay by his side.

He turned to Mr. Hugo, who sighed and pulled up a chair, for the Radio Host to sit down on. He sat down and held his Son’s hand the whole time, while the nurses and Dr. Hugo worked on M/n.

Alastor himself had a few tears in his eyes. How could he let this happen to his Son ?! Whoever drugged M/n...will PAY. Not his child. No one hurts HIS child and gets away with it !

-Time skip-

M/n was passed out on the bed, he was moved onto, after they pumped out his stomach. Right now, the remains, which were in M/n’s stomach, were in the lab. Alastor sat next to his Son on the bed, watching over him. Some color returned to his Son’s face at least. That was a positive thing. At least that was what Dr. Hugo said.

The door opened again and Alastor’s head snapped up, spotting his house doctor.

“What did you find ?”, the Radio Host asked softly.

The doctor sighed and leaned against the closed door.

“You are lucky that you have such a fighter, for a Son, Mr. Hazbin. M/n should be dead already.”, the man informed.

The Radio Host’s eyes widened, in horror.

“Wh-what ?”

“It was a very high overdose on painkillers. It should have killed him overnight, but he made it through until now. And color seems to return to his face just fine now, so he survived it closely. Just throwing up...wouldn’t have solved it. The stomach pumping was his salvation. Good quick thinking.”

He looked at his Son in horror. Someone wanted to KILL him !

“W-was it...in the orange juice ?”, Alastor shakily asked.

“It was, I’m afraid.”, Dr. Hugo confirmed with a sigh.

That solved it then. No more going to the bar for a while. If Mimzy wants to meet up with him again, she will have to come and visit him, no more bars for a while.

“As soon as he wakes up we will run a few tests and determine if he can go back home. He will be very weak and have a weakened Immune System for a few days. He needs a lot of bed rest and he will need a lot of help, moving to the bathroom and such.”

“I can take care of that, if he is allowed back home. I just need a sick leave for my Job and then I can take full care of my Son.”, Alastor replied.

He will always be there for M/n, no matter what.

The doctor nodded and left.

-Time skip-

M/n woke up a while ago, had all the tests run on him and was allowed to return home. Dr. Hugo himself said that he will send the sick leave, for the Radio Host, to his workplace, himself.

Alastor brought him to bed and covered him in the blanket properly, then opened the boy’s bedroom window, to let fresh air inside.

“Papa...?”, M/n called out weakly.

Alastor turned around, looking at M/n with a small smile.

“Yes, mon petit ?”

“Are...are you mad at me...?”

It shocked the man. Why would his Son think that ?

“Why would you think that, Son ? No, I’m not mad at you. Why would I be ? You should be mad at me, for letting this happen to you, in the first place.”

M/n gave him a soft smile.

“You couldn’t have known. I never blamed you in the first place. I should have told you the juice tasted off as soon as I tasted it...”, the boy said, fumbling with his fingers.

“It’s alright, Cher. Now we need to focus on getting you back to health. A lot of chicken soup, vitamin juices and herbal teas will do the trick in no time.”

M/n gave his Father a smile. It was weak, but he tried and Alastor appreciated the effort. He ran his hand through his Son’s hair with a soft smile.

“Now get some more rest. I will wake you up, when the food is done cooking. Deal ?”

M/n gave the adult a big smile.

“Deal. Don’t hurt yourself on accident, Papa. I love you.”

Alastor’s smile became brighter. His Son really cared about him.

“I’ll be careful, Cher. I love you too. Now get some rest.”

With that Alastor left the room and went into the kitchen. He left M/n’s bedroom door ajar, in case M/n needed something. Then he got, quickly, to cooking his Mother’s infamous chicken soup.

As the soup was done, Alastor prepared two bowls with it and then carried them up the stairs. He almost dropped the bowls, as he saw his Son standing on badly shaking legs. He rushed to M/n’s desk, put the two bowls down and then returned to his child’s side, quickly.

“What were you thinking ? Mon petit, you are far too weakened to move on your own.”, Alastor scolded softly.

“S-sorry, Papa. I just wanted to go to the Bathroom and I didn’t want to bother you. I thought I will be able to make it alone...”, M/n replied softly.

The Radio Host sighed softly. He forgot that M/n was very selfless and never wants to bother him with small things the boy can deal with alone. He lend the small boy his arm, which the child took as support.

“Now then, let’s get you to the Bathroom, Cher.”

“O-okay, Papa.”

With Alastor’s help, M/n was guided to the Bathroom, that was connected with his Bedroom. He let the boy support himself from the sink to the toilet, then he closed the door.

“Tell me when you are done, Cher. Then we can eat.”

“I will, Papa. Thank you.”

“No problem, mon petit.”

Alastor waited at the door. He heard his Son flush the toilet and not long later the water running in the sink. He washed his hands then.

“I’m done, Dad.”, M/n said softly as the water was off again.

Alastor opened the door and then reached out his arm again. M/n grabbed it tightly and then he was led back to bed. The Father helped to cover the boy in his blankets again and then he went to fetch the bowls. M/n sat up comfortably, while Alastor sat next to him, on his bed, to the right side.

“Bon apetit, Cher.”, the man said.

“Bon apetit, Papa.”, the boy repeated.

Together they dug into their soup and the boy hummed, loving the taste.

“This tastes awesome, Dad ! How did you make it ?”, M/n asked in wonder, eating another spoonful after he asked.

Alastor chuckled lightly, a fond smile on his face.

“My Mother made a recipe for a good chicken soup. Sadly...it doesn’t taste as good as when she made it. I...always seem to miss something to add into it.”

M/n looked at his Father. He rarely heard about his Grandma.

“How was Grandma ? What was she like ?”, the boy asked.

Alastor looked at him, contemplating if the boy was ready to hear of her. He shook his head.

“Another time, Cher.”

“Dad, come on ! You told me a bit about her already. Why not more ? You clearly loved her a lot ! Was she really THAT bad ?”, M/n asked.

His head whipped around quickly, to look at his Son.

“She was NOT bad !”, Alastor yelled, slightly angered.

The boy flinched, but didn’t back down.

“Then why do you not want to share with me anything about her ?! I am YOUR SON, Dad ! She would be basically my Grandma !”

Alastor looked away after a while of seeing his Son frustrated with his closed off behavior.

“It...is hard to talk about her with others, Cher. I don’t tell everyone how my Family used to be.”, Alastor replied.

“I understand that, Papa. I really do, but I am Family too, aren’t I ? I am your child. Do I not deserve to know how my Grandparents used to be ? I already missed the opportunity to meet them in person. I can only hope for stories from you now.”

His Son had a point and the Radio Host knew that. He sighed and had a soft smile on his face. He knew it might fade soon, but...M/n was Family. He can let his charade drop around him.

“My Mother...Your Mummo (Grandma), was a very kind and caring soul. She loved to cook, she always knew how to cheer me up and she taught me everything I know, to be a Gentleman.”

M/n just looked at him, as his Father opened up about his Mother, eating his soup slowly. VERY slowly.

“She never had much problems with what I did. There were simple, loose rules in the house. Don’t curse, don’t yell in the house, arms off of the table when you eat, sit straight, respect your elders, no running in the house, don’t lie to Momma and no pets. I always kept to the rules, my Mom put up. I never yelled at her, I never hurt her on purpose and I always listened.”

M/n grew concerned. It seemed like his Father was out of the picture...

“What about your...Father ?”

Alastor tensed, but sighed and tried to relax.

“You are too young to hear everything about that man yet, but...he was NOT a good man, mon petit.”

At that M/n grew worried.

“What...what did he do to you two ?”, he asked worried.

Alastor looked at his Son, smile gone and a certain darkness in his eyes, dancing around like a wild fire.

“Whenever he came home...he usually had bad, stressful days and couldn’t get drunk and cheat on my Mother.”

‘So a drinking, cheating Bastard...’

“When he came home in such moods...there were more rules.”

“Like ?”

“Do not speak unless spoken to, you eat what was on the table, do not engage with him unless he starts to engage with you, you are not allowed to leave the table until he said you can or left himself first, you are not allowed to give him any attitude either and you are not allowed to say no to him. He wants you to get him a beer, you will get it, otherwise...”, Alastor cut himself off.

M/n stared at his Father in horror.

“You are NOT telling me that he was abusive, are you ?”

Alastor looked into his soup, head hanging low.

“That is exactly what I am telling you, Cher.”, he weakly replied.

‘Holy shit... we actually have something in common, just that he had a loving Mom by his side and I only had my Sister.’

The Radio Host took a deep breath. M/n gave him his full attention.

“He wanted me to act like him. Abusive, towards women and lesser people. He said if someone comes at me with attitude, I give it back to them, while my Mother said that is NOT how I should behave. When my Father was out of the house, my Mother taught me how to be a Gentleman. When he noticed what she was doing, that she taught me everything I needed to know and do one day, for myself, he forced me into other activities with him. I made a small mistake...well, I think you can guess the outcome.”, Alastor told him dully.

M/n stared at him, mouth agape. He always thought that at least his Family was great, when he was a child.

“YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO BEG YOUR OWN PARENTS TO NOT STOP BEING YOUR PARENTS ! YOU WEREN’T BLAMED FOR YOUR SISTER’S DEATH ! YOU WEREN’T BEATEN AND ABUSED BY YOUR OWN PARENTS ! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO HAVE A FEELING TO ALWAYS TRY TO BE GOOD ENOUGH FOR THEM SO THEY WILL ACCEPT YOU ! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO SLEEP OUTSIDE AND STARVE ! YOU WEREN’T ABANDONED BY YOUR OWN PARENTS ! YOU DIDN’T HAD TO SEE YOUR OWN SISTER’S CONDITIONS WHEN SHE CAME HOME WOUNDED BADLY AND YOU HAD TO TAKE CARE OF HER AND LISTEN TO HER TALK ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED ! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO SEE HOW THEY BEAT YOUR SISTER IN SCHOOL AND NO ONE CARED! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO SEE HER GETTING TAKEN BY SOME PERVERTED FREAKS ! YOU DIDN’T HAD TO FIND HER LIKE THIS THE NEXT DAY AND FIND OUT THAT THESE SICK FUCKS ARE STILL OUT THERE ! I DID ! I HAD TO ! WHILE NO ONE ELSE NEEDED TO BE PERFECT FOR THEIR PARENTS, I HAD TO BE THAT AND SO MUCH MORE !”

M/n looked down in shame as he remembered that day. He judged his Father way too quickly. Just because he seemed happy all the time, didn’t that mean that he really was. His childhood wasn’t rainbows and sunshine either.

He might not have been forced to beg both parents to not stop loving him, but he had to practically endure his Father’s torture. He didn’t have to see a sibling getting hurt all the time, but he probably was forced to see his Mother getting hurt a lot. He was beaten and bruised as a child, just as his Mother was probably. The worst was...it happened at home, a place you were supposed to be safest. His Mother might have confided in him and he probably saw her crumbling a lot. Just as M/n had to see Linda crumble apart all the time and it was up to him, to get her back up. Alastor and M/n had something in common. Shit parents. At least...shit Fathers, in Alastor’s case.

The boy put the empty bowl on the nightstand and then hugged his Father tightly, who took a deep inhale.

“I’m sorry I asked. But, if it helps, he is gone now. No more pain and torture.”, the child said softly.

Alastor chuckled weakly and put his hand on top of M/n’s smaller ones, that were on his stomach, wrapped around.

“Yes, he is gone now. Anyways !”

And the switch flipped again. M/n found it amusing nowadays. Alastor can change the mood so quickly...

“My Mother she cooked the best foods ever ! Jambalaya was one of the best ! I always helped her in the kitchen and cooked with her, when I could ! She was such a loving person, you would have LOVED her ! There were a few times she scolded me, but it wasn’t often. Without her...I would never be the person I am today, mon petit.”

M/n smiled at that and hugged his Father tighter, while Alastor finally ate the rest of his own soup. After he made sure that they both were full, he collected the bowls and brought them into the kitchen. He entered his Son’s room again, with a bright smile on his face.

“Now, you better take a nap, Cher. The more you sleep and drink, the faster you will be better !”, the Father said happily.

“Papa ?”, M/n called softly.

Alastor stopped dead in his tracks, as he was about to leave. He turned back around, looking at the boy.

“Yes, mon petit ?”

“Can you...tell me a Story to fall asleep to ? I don’t care which.”

Alastor put his finger on his chin, pretending to think about it.

“Hmmm....Oh, alright then. But only one.”, the adult replied.

M/n smiled and nodded. Only one.

Alastor sat down next to his Son, on his bed, and started to tell the story about the wolf and the seven little goats.

As he finished, his Son was fast asleep and Alastor left, smiling softly. It felt good to confide in his child about his past. He thought it would feel...bad. Like a forbidden thing to do. Maybe...he will take M/n to his Mother’s grave soon. He deserved that kind of closure. But for now...Alastor has to help his child back on his little feet.

He will kill whoever poisoned his Son, as soon as he finds them.

Over the days, M/n quickly regained his strength. But while he was sick, he gave Alastor a hard time keeping up. At some nights, M/n woke up and needed the Bathroom. The Radio Host was a light sleeper, so imagine his fright when he jumped out of sleep, due to a loud thump, coming from his Son’s room, only to find him hissing in pain on the floor.

He quickly noticed that his Son hated to bother him with such small things. He wanted to move on his own and didn’t want his Father to feel forced to care for M/n, like he was a newborn fawn, that still needs to learn how to walk.

Most food M/n consumed, but some of the dishes, Alastor cooked, made M/n feel sick, so the adult was mindful of what he cooked. It wasn’t his Son’s fault, that his body recovered like that. He will be back to normal soon enough, was all they both always thought. And in less than a week, he was completely fine again.

Alastor had to scold him a lot for trying to walk on his own, after he continuously fell on his face anyways, but otherwise, M/n didn’t put up much of a fight.

What the man didn’t know, was that M/n knew who poisoned him and he was giving that person a lesson to learn from one day.

The audacity of that bitch...

Masterlist HERE !

#Read the warnings above #male!reader #fanfiction #Hazbin Hotel #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #Father!Alastor x Son!Reader #How M/n met Mimzy – Father!Human!Alastor x Son!Reader

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dalishious · 25 days

Text

Reclaiming Independence of the Dales

Before anything else, I’d just like to clarify that that vast majority of this is made of my own ideas, based on interpretation from the little canonical information provided, and a little inspired by my own people’s history and governing structure. Additionally, what I am presenting here is an ideal situation, not necessarily what I think is an immediately realistic outcome in the world-state established. So, please keep that in mind.

The Dales were established as a homeland for elves—a small piece of a continent that was once called their home in its entirety, before the humans colonized it—by Maferath in -165 Ancient. This was in reward for the eleven people’s participation in the fight against Ancient Tevinter. But in 2:10 Glory, Divine Renata I broke this treaty and declared an Exalted March against the Dales, ending in its annexation by Orlais.

[Related Post: All You Need to Know about the Exalted March of the Dales]

If Solas has very low approval with Inquisitor Lavellan, and Lavellan accuses him of not doing enough to help their people, he will say the following: “You could order Halamshiral returned to the Dalish, if you wished. But ultimately, you know that would fail. That even you cannot solve this.” I hate this with a burning passion. The reason I can’t do that, Solas, is because it’s not an option in the game! Why are you as a character angry at me, the player, for not doing something that is not an option for me to do? Why was this written? Just to push the point that it’s not worth it to try and fight back against oppression? Because if I refuse to accept hopelessness in real life, why would I in accept it in a video game where the story is made-up, and therefore anything is possible if the developers so wish it.

Regardless, according to Solas, the Inquisition has enough power to support the reclamation of an independent Dales. I imagine this would require a lot of political maneuvering within the Orlesian governance, and therefore I think the best opportunity to do this would be with Briala ruling through Gaspard. This would then later open the door for Briala to be the leader of the newly independent Dales, too. I would like to see Briala as ruler of the Dales not just because she is a favourite of mine, but because I genuinely believe she is the best established character fit for the job. She was trained in everything Celene was trained in, has first-hand experience in court, has extensive connections, and has demonstrated her ability and desire to utilize these skills and assets for the benefit of elven kind.

Briala’s blackmail on Gaspard may help prevent Orlais from invading again while under his rule, but to last longer, the Dales would need to establish itself as a strong, independent Nation with allies. This is why I believe it would also be important to have Leliana as Divine Victoria in such a world-state where this could happen. Leliana re-canonizes the Canticle of Shartan, and in making it available for the common person to understand, would ideally help sway the minds of the average Andrastian into supporting the Dales’s independence. The nobility would of course be much trickier, because they and the Chantry are the ones who actually benefitted from its annexation—but there is little they would be able to actually accomplish if they did not have the power of the people behind them.

As far as allies go, Ferelden could only gain from Orlais losing control of the Dales, because it would mean cutting Orlais off from a lot of Ferelden’s border, therefore reducing the threat of another invasion. Additionally, a leader with just plain good morals like say, Alistair, would easily accept the elven kingdom’s return. But even Anora is willing to grant part of the Korcari Wilds to the Dalish if Mahariel requests it, and while this sadly doesn’t last, it does show a positive sign into her potentially being open to the idea of an independent Dales as well.

I sincerely doubt that all Dalish clans would return to the Dales and re-settle down. After all, they have developed differentiating cultures over the years of wandering in separated groups, with different ideals and different ways of life that they might not want to give up. But many would return, and that would likely create conflict between the elves coming from the Dalish clans and the elves coming from the cities. We know that some prejudice exists against “flat-ears” as some Dalish call those from the city, and we know that city elves have adopted a lot of misinformation from humans into their views of the Dalish. It would take time and positive leadership to reconnect the people, without risking falling into some sort of hierarchy based on origin. This is why I do not believe one group or the other should single-handedly rule alone. Rather, I think there should be a Grand Council of High Keepers made up of those voted into the position each to represent a single district of the Dales. (I like the idea of there being seven High Keepers, not just because there are seven traditional districts of Mi’kma’ki, but because it works out that there seven of the Creators. So it makes sense that there would be seven High Keepers.) The Grand Council would meet and make decisions together, with one appointed leader at the head to act as the Council’s chair.

In terms of protection and order, the Emerald Knights should be reformed. This would include the Fade Hunters, to protect the people against demons and maleficarum, with there being no Circles or Templars.

Restoring the independence of the Dales would lead to a revival of elven culture in ways that could never happen before, because they would actually be free to pursue re-learning the language, re-discovering the history and culture, and sharing it all amongst each other. They would not have to fear arrest the crime of simply being an elf.

But what of the other races presently living in the Dales? I see no reason why they would have to leave, so long as they would be willing to follow the Grand Council’s leadership. I imagine many nobility would flee to Orlais, simply because they would not stand for it. But for the average human or surface dwarf, their life wouldn’t really even change much; they’d still be managing their farms the same as always. Hell, it might even improve things for them, assuming the Grand Council gives fairer treatment than the nobility previously.

#dragon age #the dales #elves #meta

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nicodrawings · 10 months

Text

Dump time featuring Billie Morales aka Silly Billie

Update 2: oh! Also the first two illustrations are based on Yotsuba art!

Update: ok HC time, if you wanna know more keep reading as usual.

BILLIE SECTION

-I made Billie 5 years old.

-I’ve mentioned this before but Billie has Asperger’s.

-She didn’t talk until she was like 3 going on 4.

-Her nickname is "silly billy"

-Miles always says "how's my favorite girl in the whole wide world?" when he comes home from school on the weekends.

-Miles is a doting big brother and helps take care of her as well as connecting with her interests.

-As much as she loves her parents, she thinks the world of Miles. She's up under him the most, especially when she's over stimulated, stressed or sleepy. His heartbeat calms her.

-She has a limit to physical contact and taps when she’s ready to let go. She usually only hugs her family. Her and Ganke do hand touches instead of hugs.

-The family helps her navigate her environment and her emotions as well as socializing but never push anything that makes her uncomfortable. They always ask questions and have special routines to help her.

-A part of her routine is on Saturdays they go to the park so she can see the pigeons.

-Miles does not like pigeons, but tolerates them for Billies sake.

-They also have special songs for her like "🎶when you walk across the street take ur eyes off your feet🎶" to remind her to look both ways and pay attention when walking across the street since she can get distracted easily.

-The songs they use also attach her to music. So whenever they go to ganke he plays the piano for her and they make songs up and when she hears a song she likes she starts stimming and wiggling.

-She also takes interest in drawing because she sees Miles drawing and they draw animals and watch Steve Irwin on Saturdays too.

-She doesn't understand figure of speeches so if you say "don't sweat it" she would be like "...sweat what?"

-she doesn’t show a lot of emotions unless she’s feeling something intense.

-She rarely sees Miles in superhero mode in public but when she does she just goes “SPIDER!” and smiles and he waves at her.

-Moral of this story, she is loved.

HOBIE

-He lives with his grandparents in the Bronx area (I’m not sure which side yet tho).

-He loves his grandparents very much.

-One time at a punk rock concert a wise man told him “the most punk thing to do is to take care of yourself, don’t be reliant on the system to do so, cuz they ain’t”

-He told his grandpa the following day and they had a heart to heart about it considering that Hobie was very depressed at the time.

-So with that being said, health is incredibly important to him.

-Some ppl tease him and call him “straight-edge” but it don’t bother him much.

-Hobie officially meets the other spiders when he’s 16.

-Clicks with Gwen and Miles almost immediately.

-Especially Miles, Peter always jokes and says that they were definitely brothers in their past lives.

-Gwen and Hobie bond over music.

-Gwen gets the crush first.

-But unlike Miles she’s more forward and doesn’t wait a billion years so she’s asks him out.

-Hobie says yes.

-Only one that knows how to drive by the time he’s 18.

OTHER STUFF

-Gwen’s relationship with her father just…never gets better in my AU. He’s just an ass and as far as Gwen is concerned they’re not family, they’re just related. With that being said, although it’s never acknowledged, Gwen definitely sees Peter as a father figure in her life. She even has him as her top emergency contact. Peter started to understand this when she was 16, he never questioned it and sees her as his oldest daughter. When she’s had really bad arguments with her father she goes to Peters and spends the night.

-Peter and MJ’s home is open to all the spiderkids. No questions asked.

-Peter and MJ always say “On our taxes we have one kid” when people ask them how many kids they have.

-When Peter gets home he sees how many pairs of shoes are at the door then yells “how many kids are in the house?" They usually yell in response which gives him an idea as to how many kids are there.

-On average there’s no less than 2.

-One time he asked and a really deep voice responded along with the kids.

-It was Venom.

-All the spiders have their own therapist’s but every other weekend there’s a group therapy session for kids with powers funded by S.H.E.I.L.D. It’s not required that they go but it’s open for them regardless, just sign up and come in.

-Ganke donates some of his legos to the program and helps assist sometimes with running it since it’s not ran in the best shape.

-This connects to a bigger problem of helping hero’s with their mental health and stability, especially when they decide to retire.

-If you read the other AU list I had, this is the reason why Ganke switches his major to Social Work when he goes to college.

NICKNAMES

Peter’s nicknames for the kids:

Miles-“Junior/Little Man”

May-“Mayday”

Gwen-"Gwennie Pie”

Ganke-“Goober”

Hobie-“Hobie” (obviously)

Anya-“Ani”

Ganke’s nicknames:

Friends-“Gee” judge calls him “G-money”

Miles’s mom-“Honey”

Ganke’s mom-“Gee-Chan”

The boy that bullies him AKA Sean “Gay-ke”

Peter-“Goober” (as I’ve said before)

Venom and Eddie-“Boy”

Miles’s for when he’s feeling affectionate-“Cariño”

Anyway that’s all I got for now! If you have any questions about my AU please feel free to ask away. I love talking about it as you can see.

#my drawings #artist on tumblr #art #digital art #illustration #ultimate spider man #spiderman #miles morales #peter parker #spider gwen #gwen stacy #spider punk #hobart brown #ganke lee #billie morales #au

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tonberry-yoda · 1 year

Text

Hopeful - Ramattra

Pairing - Ramattra x reader

Warnings - too much fluff frrrr

Word Count - 3,937

Notes - this fic was inspired by this post by @lady-shimada!! i am super thankful to them for allowing me to write this wonderful idea because I absolutely love how this turned out!! this is one of my longest fics yet and I cannot express how fun this was to write!! thank you again @lady-shimada and I really hope you enjoy it!!! Have a great rest of your day/night everyone and please stay hydrated!!! <3333

You wiped the sweat off of your forehead and smiled at your work. "Does that feel better?" You asked the omnic who's arm you had just finished fixing up.

She rolled her arm and practically beamed at you, if she could of course. "Thank you! Y-You don't know how much this means to me!!" She pulled you into an embrace and you hugged her back with no hesitation.

"Of course. I'm just happy to help all that I can." Nothing felt better than seeing an omnic happy. As a human, it was rare to get along with omnics, especially after the war, but you were just glad that there was some peace in the world that you could take part in. Especially thanks to your teacher, Zenyatta, who was an omnic himself. You just wanted a better world. One in which omnics were seen as more than just robots, but another half of humans.

"How much will that be?" The omnic pulled her wallet out and started fishing out cash.

"No, please, it's on me. I don't need any money."

"Please let me pay, it's the least I could do." She started shoving money at you, but you kept declining.

"Ma'am, I'm serious. Seeing you in tip top shape is more than enough payment for me."

"You're a blessing, you know that?!" The omnic threw her arms around you once more before thanking you what seemed like a thousand times before leaving.

Genji just smiled at you from across the room. "You are very talented, y/n."

"Oh, stop it, Genij." You cleaned off a couple of tools and gave Genji a playful punch on the arm.

"It's true! I don't know what the omnics would do without someone like you. I don't know what I would do without you." He pointed to his robotic body, making you giggle a bit.

"It's seriously the least I could do. They need help, right? That's what I'm here for. To provide that help." You wiped some oil off of your face and slipped off your dirty apron. "Now I'm off to go get some food because I am exhausted."

---

"Brother, I just want to know why you're not fighting for us! For the omnics! The ones who raised you!" Ramattra exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. He was on a walk with Zenyatta, as it had been years since they had last seen each other.

The two decided to get back in contact after a lot of thinking Zenyatta had done on his part. Moral of the story is: he missed Ramattra. They had an unbreakable bond that was taken away from them over a few disagreements. It's not that Zen wanted Ramattra back to change his mind. He just wanted to see him again. Without that brother-like omnic by his side, Zen was becoming a bit lonely.

"Don't you care about your people, brother?! Don't you care that they are dying?!"

"Of course I do, Ramattra," Zenyatta sat next to a nearby lake, looking up at the stars. "But doesn't everyone die?" His tone was soft and Ramattra was already getting frustrated.

"Yes! Everyone dies! But not like this, brother... not like this." He sat next to Zen, looking to the stars as well. "I just want peace for our people. I want to avenge Mondatta. I don't want it to happen all over again... especially to you." Ramattra sighed, feeling a little more at ease, waiting for Zenyatta to say something. Praying that he would agree with him.

"I understand how you must feel, brother," Zen's tone was still soft, not breaking once. "But we each have our own ways of thinking. I don't think anyone should die for the sake of others. I think in the end, we should all be equal."

"But how are we supposed to be equal when-"

Ramattra's rough tone was quickly interrupted by Zenyatta skipping a stone over the lake they were next to. "Listen, Ramattra. I invited you here because I missed you. That's all. We can have talks about war and death later, but for now," Zenyatta got up from his spot, continuing the walk. "I want to know how you've been."

---

"What did you get?" Genji walked up to you, taking a fry from your meal; the omnic he was talking to that was in recovery went back into rest mode. There were a lot of omnics that had to heal up, especially some who have seen some bad places. Your shop wasn't the cleanest, but at least you had a space for them to stay for a while.

"Well it looks like you already figured it out Mr. I Like To Steal Fries." You giggled, placing your food on a nearby table with tools strewn across it.

"Sorry, sorry," Genji put his hands in the air in joking defense. "Look, I'm just hungry too, y/n. You can't blame me."

"I thought you would be," you sighed, pulling out another bag. "So I got you some food too."

"That omnic was right... you are a blessing."

"Shut up Genji and just take the food. And you owe me a fry now!" You laughed, handing him his food.

"Do you have any more patients today?" Genji took off his mask to reveal his scar covered face. If only you could do something about that.

"I think I have one more... but it's a Junkertown patient."

"Are you serious?" Genji's mouth was full of food, shock painted on his face.

"Yeah," you said solemnly. "I hate getting those patients. Not because they're hard to fix, but because I feel so bad. The Junker Queen really fucks them up, I tell you what."

"I bet. I'm sorry." Genji looked at a patient who had been bed ridden for weeks. Another one from Junkertown, still trying to regain consciousness.

"Genji, I'm the last person you should be apologizing to." You looked down at your food, getting prepared for the patient you were going to have to help soon. You wished it didn't have to be this way between humans and omnics, but for now, this was the only thing you could do to help.

---

"Wait," Ramattra pinched the bridge of what would be his nose. "So you're telling me that you're teaching... a... human?"

"Two actually." Zenyatta said casually, watching an airplane fly by.

"Two?! Have you gone mad?!"

"Perhaps a little mad." Zen giggled to himself.

"You have got to be playing some sort of sick joke on me. I can't believe you would do something like that."

"Not all humans are bad. You do know that, right?" Zen gave Ramattra a playful look, which was returned with glaring eyes.

"Yes they are. Why else would we still be going through this pain and suffering?"

"Follow me. I want to show you something."

Ramattra sighed, but didn't argue with Zen. "Fine."

"Might I ask when the last time you spoke to a human was?"

Ramattra went silent, trying to think. "I don't really... speak to them. They made us suffer, so I make them suffer."

Zen hummed in response. "I see."

For the rest of the walk, the two omnics were silent. They didn't feel like more needed to be said, so they just listened to the nighttime birds sing and the slight breeze blow onto the nearby lake.

Ramattra loved when the world was peaceful. It was rare for him. Not often did he get to just enjoy the sounds of the world, it didn't feel like he was allowed to yet. He still had things he needed to do for his people. It was like a breath of fresh air was unheard of for Ramattra.

In that regard, he was very thankful for Zenyatta reaching out again. It was like how he used to live. And even if it wouldn't be permanent, it was nice.

"Right this way, brother." Zenyatta pointed down a dark alleyway, the only light coming from a dim lamp next to a sign that said in dark colors: "Omnic Repair". Zen opened the door to a dimly lit workshop with tired omnics lying in hospital-like beds.

Ramattra looked around the workshop, his gaze finding Genji who was sitting with an omnic that was in better condition with the rest, joking and chatting with him.

"Brother, what is thi-"

Ramattra was quickly interrupted by Zen putting his finger over what would be his mouth and pointing to you, who was hard at work fixing the omnic from Junkertown.

Ramattra turned to you and felt like everything around him had stopped. Like nothing existed in the world but you.

"Not all humans wish to see us suffer, Ramattra," Zen whispered with a smile, seeing how gentle you were with your patient.

"H-How?" Ramattra's tone was almost as soft as Zenyatta's.

"What do you mean, 'how?', brother? This is what they love to do. They want nothing more than to see an omnic live out its life."

"B-But... they're human."

"Very observant brother," Zenyatta giggled, putting his hand on Ramattra's lower back. "Why don't you say hello?" He pushed him to you, but Ramattra quickly stepped away.

"Zenyatta, I can't. They're doing something important right now." His eyes stayed glued to you, watching as your eyes didn't once leave your patient. You were so focused on fixing them, on helping them not be in pain, it was admirable.

You tilted your head, fixing a screw and stood up, stretching. "I'll be back." You said to your patient, who was already more than halfway completed. "You're a trooper."

The barely conscious omnic seemed to smile at you, giving you a limp high five and saying a soft "thank you."

You nodded and turned around, almost bumping into a large... omnic?!

You apologized and took a step back to find Ramattra standing in front of you. He was taller than any other omnic you have ever seen and a hell of a lot scarier too. But he also looked so... cool. Definitely unlike any other omnic you've met.

"y/n!" Zenyatta stepped out from behind Ramattra as you took off a face mask you had on. "You're doing excellent work in here!"

You smiled and gave Zenyatta a short hug. "Thank you, master. It's been a long day, but we're almost done."

"I'd like you to meet someone." Zenyatta pushed Ramattra in front of him, revealing to you the tall omnic. He had to be way over 6ft, he was gigantic.

"Hi!" You smiled, sticking your hand out to him.

"Hello there." Ramattra just stared at your hand and you let it limply fall to your side. You gave Zenyatta a confused look.

"This is Ramattra," Zenyatta introduced him because he knew that Ramattra wouldn't do it himself. "Ramattra, this is y/n."

"Does he need repair? Because he looks just fine to me. I mean I could check a couple of his bolts and wires, but like I said, he looks in tip top condition." You took a fry from the table in the corner of the room and popped it in your mouth.

"I need no repair, human." Ramattra's tone was rough, but it didn't scare you. It was just alarming to hear someone speak to you like that.

"Alright then... What can I help you with?"

Zenyatta just laughed and shook his head. "y/n, Ramattra here is like a brother to me. We've taught each other a lot, but got separated due to differences. I just wanted to show him the work you conduct in here, perhaps show him another side."

"Nothing will change my mind about humans." Ramattra turned around and crossed his arms, looking around the small workshop.

"That's not what I said, brother. I just wanted to show you something new, that's all."

Ramattra just ignored Zenyatta, walking over to an omnic who had to get all of his limbs replaced and was clearly exhausted, but still awake.

"Why are you here, brother?" Ramattra grabbed the omnic's hand, looking at his tired figure. "Why not get repaired by one of our own kind?"

The omnic just looked at Ramattra and stretched, his eyes getting brighter. "y/n is great. They make sure we're cared for and in our greatest condition."

"Yes, but they are human."

"I've met a lot of good humans in my day. And they are definitely one of them. If not for them, I wouldn't be here, talking to you."

"I see... Well, I will let you rest now. Godspeed, brother." Ramattra left the omnic to rest and saw that you went right back to work on your patient from when he walked in.

He walked over to you and sat down, watching you as you worked, not once thinking about anything else but saving this omnic.

"How long have you been doing this job?" You jumped slightly, shocked to hear Ramattra's booming voice.

You giggled, a little embarrassed about getting frightened. "I've always been interested in repairing, but it wasn't until I met Zenyatta that I realized that I can use those abilities on omnics too. Plus, I know that you all have been through a lot and I just want to start the movement to help. It's not much, but it's what I can do."

If Ramattra had a heart, it would be pounding. Perhaps he felt the simulation of it or at least his brain was telling him that his heart would be pounding. Whatever it was... he didn't like it. "W-Well, human's have been the reason for our destroyed life. The reason we are so hurt and suffer this much. It is because of you that you are fixing us. You're not helping with anything."

You didn't know how to respond. You had never been through what he has, nor do you even know how he would feel. So you just kept working on your patient. "I'm sorry." You ended up saying. "I know a simple apology isn't enough, but I am really trying to do better as a human. Omnics deserve much more than they are currently given and how they are treated, so, I'm sorry Ramattra." You looked up at him, making eye contact. "Truly."

For the first time, Ramattra couldn't say a single word. He had no rebuttal, nothing rude to say, no singular comment, nothing. He had nothing to say to you.

So instead of words, he opted for a head nod and continued watching you work. You were so precise, so caring, making sure not to hit any vital wires that would hurt the omnic in front of you. You knew what you were doing, and you were clearly skilled.

Shortly after, you took off your mask and smiled at your patient. After a couple of hours, this poor omnic that was torn apart by the citizens of Junkertown was finally as patched up as you could get them. Definitely able to live a mostly normal life and that was all you wanted for them.

The omnics eyes lit up. They couldn't walk or move too much due to their current condition, but they could definitely feel the difference. If they could smile, they would, but you could certainly tell how happy they were. "Th-Thank you." Their voice was weak, but sounded way happier than before. "You don't know how much this means to me."

"Of course," you smiled, grabbing their hand. "I'm just glad you're all better now. Like I said earlier, you're a trooper. Now get some rest, alright?"

They nodded lightly and pulled their blanket up their body, drifting off into sleep.

Ramattra was amazed. You were so... gentle with the omnics. You really did seem to love your job.

You slipped off your mask and your apron, receiving a high five and a "good job" from Genji.

"Thanks Genji. Another day done." You stretched, a couple of bones in your body popping.

"So," Ramattra scoffed, still trying to keep his intimidating front. "How much do you get paid for this?"

"I don't," you admitted, hanging up your apron and slipping on some slippers, yawning. "Why would they have to pay to continue living? That's just not fair."

God, Ramattra hated the way you were making him feel. Humans weren't supposed to be this... nice. They were evil. All of them. Right?

"Oh shoot!" You ran up to Ramattra, gently brushing your fingers over his arm. "There's a crack."

"It's nothing." Ramattra quickly pulled away from you.

"I saw a missing screw in there, it's not nothing. Can I please look at it?" You reached out your hand to him again and he pulled away again, walking away from you.

"No. I won't let a human touch me! I-"

Ramattra was interrupted by Zenyatta putting his hand on Ramattra's shoulder. "Just let them try. I promise they won't hurt you."

Ramattra sighed, but sat down anyway. He wasn't super stoked about having to be fixed by a human, but that crack and missing screw have been messing with his ability to use his arm properly. "Fine. But if you try anything, human, know that there will be prices to pay."

You could tell that Ramattra was stiff. You realized something though, perhaps this motion he made around humans wasn't because he was trying to defend himself or wanting you to fear him... it was because he was... scared. At least it seemed that way to you. He has only seen humans as something to harm him and the people he loves. Maybe being able to see a human as an ally was frightening to him.

"You don't have to be so tense," you giggled, pulling out a bag of assorted tools. "Loosen up a bit and this might be easier for both of us."

"It's a little difficult to do that... I don't want to drop my guard."

You hummed in response, picking out the tools you needed. "I understand... It must be weird to see humans as a nice thing, huh?"

Ramattra went silent for a moment, looking at a dim light bulb above him as you went to work. "I suppose. Your race has done nothing but hurt mine."

"I wish it didn't have to be this way," your tone was gentle as you concentrated on your work.

"Me too." For the first time, Ramattra's tone dropped. He wasn't trying to intimidate you anymore. It sounded almost... friendly.

"I'm going to bed, y/n." Genji took a step away from his desk that was cooped up in the corner of the workshop and stretched. "Great job today."

"Thank you Genji," you smiled. "Get a good night's rest, alright? It's already pretty late."

"I will. Don't work yourself to the bone, got it?"

"I won't. I'll be heading to bed myself after I fix up our new friend here." You chuckled as Genji went off to his room.

"After I fix up our new friend here."

Was Ramattra really stooping so low to find a human... friend? No. There was no way.

"All done!" You put any tools away and looked over Ramattra's metal body to see if there was anything else you needed to do.

Ramattra moved his arm and was shocked. It was the best his arm has felt in years.

"Thank you." Ramattra bowed at you. "I... appreciate your efforts."

"Anytime," you cleaned up and smiled at Ramattra, your hands moving to your hips. "Just be sure to come back again if there's anything wrong, alright?"

Ramattra just nodded and followed Zenyatta to the door of the workshop.

"Oh, y/n?"

You were headed up to your room to finally get some rest after such a long day, but were stopped by Ramattra's voice.

"Yes?" You stuck your head out from the top of the stairs.

"Promise to get a good night's rest?"

You thought for a moment as a smirk painted your face. "Yes. Promise to be back?"

Ramattra thought for a moment. "...Yes."

---

Ramattra did, in fact, come back. A lot actually. More than you expected him to, at least.

At first, it was for small upgrades he was thinking about related to his body and his weapon. And then it was to just see what you were working on and to visit other omnics. And finally, it was just to see you.

It was odd building a relationship with someone who hated your kind. Someone who was afraid that you would turn your back on him at any second. But you noticed every day that he would warm up to you more and more. Even if it was just little things like scooting a little closer to you or telling you about his day.

There started to be days where you would rarely not see his face.

---

"Good morning, y/n." You heard that familiar bell of your workshop door opening and Ramattra ducking his head to get through.

"Good morning, Ramattra." You smiled, continuing to sweep the floor.

"Any big plans for the day?"

"Nope! Today's my day off so I'm going to try to organize this hellhole."

Ramattra chuckled at the sight of your messy workshop. It wasn't unsanitary by any means, just cluttered.

"Sounds good." Ramattra nodded, sitting on a nearby stool, looking giant in it.

"Do you need any upgrades or anything fixed, Ramattra?"

"No, not that I can think of."

"Then do you have any big plans for the day?"

"No. I trained with Zenyatta this morning, but that's the only plan I made for today."

The two of you did what you needed to do in silence. You cleaned up all the clutter, trying to organize it to your best ability, and Ramattra would be on standby if you needed him to reach anything.

"Can I be honest with you, y/n?" If Ramattra could blush, he knew he absolutely would've been.

"Sure, Ramattra. Go ahead." You finally got a chance to take a breather, so you sat across from him.

He cleared his throat and kept his composure. He couldn't lose that stoic posture, couldn't let his guard down. "You are the most tolerable human I have ever met."

You laughed out loud. "Thank you?"

"I mean it. You're kind, caring, and helpful. I hate to admit it, but I think I'm actually starting to like you." He laughed, not believing he was actually saying any of this to you.

"That's actually very sweet, Ramattra. I've liked you from the beginning, so nothing has really changed over in my department." You smiled, laying your hand on the table.

"y/n? I just wanted to let you know, I hate the way you make me feel."

"Really?" You laughed. "Why's that?"

"I don't particularly enjoy conversing with humans, let alone take pleasure in being around them."

"Is it scary?" You asked, tilting your head a bit.

"To be honest with you, it's terrifying. I feel like I'm losing that hard edge. Growing softer. I'm not keen on that." He chuckled almost nervously and you slid your hand over to his.

"Well, I like guys with a soft side." You smiled and immediately made whatever heart Ramattra did have melt. How dare you!

"Don't you dare." Ramattra chuckled, giving you a playful smack on the hand.

"I'm glad I met you, Ramattra."

"I feel the same... I'm thankful that there are humans out in the world like you. It's almost making me..."

"Hopeful?"

"Precisely."

Ramattra walked up to you and placed his forehead on yours. You planted a small kiss on his cheek and he hugged you.

Yeah. You were making him feel hopeful.

~~~~~

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