#serve and guard her people. and then after her death they try to get rid of it and her spirit LITERALLY speaks to them to tell them not to?

[holyshonks]

Halo: Epitaph Review

You got that right! Spoilers below the cut.

I want to start by saying that this book felt like an apology in the same way that Infinite is an apology.

The first quarter to half of the book is just summarizing the events of the Forerunner trilogy, Halo 4, and Escalation, in the form of the Didact slowly regaining his memories. While I definitely appreciated the refresher (I forgot a lot since then), I also couldn't help but wonder who it was for. To anyone who had never engaged with any of that media, a huge amount of the book is just a rather dull recounting of events in a desert setting. To that end, the book feels targeted directly at people who love the Forerunner stories and were horrified by the hasty introduction and death of the Didact. It is, in essence:

"We're sorry we took a pivotal, beloved character with a rich story arc, introduced him to the fandom at large with zero context, and then killed him in a shitty comic. What if we did this instead?"

And is it an upgrade? Well, let's see.

The Plot

The plot of the book is that, after being super-composed (sigh), the Didact awakens in a strange desert, stripped of his memories. He slowly regains them, becoming stronger in both body and mind. He is angry at humanity, and is determined to destroy them. We get caught up with the story so far, as well as some new Didact backstory. He discovers a Haruspis, a Forerunner rate that served as custodians to the Domain, who tells him that they are outside the dormant Domain, which shut down after the Halos were fired. Forerunner souls cannot pass into it anymore because of this, including the Didact. Also, Cortana is there, trying to convince the Warden Eternal, who is guarding the Domain, to let her in. The book becomes about both foiling Cortana, who wants the Domain to herself, and killing the Warden Eternal so that the Domain can be reactivated. Lots of failed attempts, some arguing with Cortana. Along the way, he runs into other souls who are trapped outside the Domain, including, to his surprise, his old enemy, Forthencho. He explains that humans that were composed also come here. They scuffle. Didact gets punched a bunch.

Eventually the Warden sides with Cortana and allows her in the Domain, and she looses her Created upon it. The Didact makes another attempt to enter, and kills some AIs while he's at it, including this one, who has a wine mom personality that I found amusing.

Now we're in the last quarter of the book, where things start to get interesting. All the while, the Warden is chasing the Didact with his millions of forms across the Domain, leading to a Scooby-Doo-style villain chase where the Didact is throwing himself through portals and doors to evade him and eventually find Cortana. By this point, the Didact has softened and he no longer wants vengeance. There's no discussion of the Xalanyn, which I was hoping for. In a moment I don't agree with, the Didact tries to reason with Cortana and says some things that clearly rattle her before he takes his leave. Next, the final standoff with the Warden, with the help of the friends the Didact made in the desert.

The thing I liked about the last portion of the book is that it finally feels the way the Forerunner trilogy felt: a universe that felt endless and expansive, but also, a classic coming-of-age with unlikely allies. In fact, just as I thought that, the book said this:

It also had that familiar thread of silliness, such as the Didact clowning on Haruspis' hat, and during the last final battle, where, after acquiring a quantum sword, the Didact learns that the Warden has a larger, better quantum sword.

They fight, Didact wins, hooray. He reactivates the Domain and he and Forthencho make a wager to see who can get rid of the most AIs that are still in the Domain. In addition, human souls(?) can now access the Domain. However, as expected, the Didact's final action is to reunite with his wife.

The Thoughts

This book is essentially just a re-write of the Didact's ending, giving him a proper close that I didn't really realize I wanted or needed, but actually? I missed the Didact. I liked the Didact, a lot, something I kind of forgot after Halo 4. I also forgot how nice it is to read from the perspective of a Forerunner with context about the tech. Most of what we see in Halo are people marveling at the mystery of Forerunner objects. Here, the Didact knows exactly what he's looking at, which was refreshing.

This book was very much written for lore-loving Halo fans who were disappointed to see how he was killed off. It had to be, because the people who only play the games wouldn't know who he is, or the stupid way he died. On the other hand, that makes this book pretty dull for the uninitiated. I would not recommend this book to a newcomer.

Cortana absolutely did not need to be in this book. Not in the slightest. It seems like they were just trying to further entrench Eviltana to account for Infinite, while also finding a way to get rid of her army of AIs. I really didn't like the implication in the book that Cortana changed her mind about taking over the galaxy because of the Didact. One of the things I actually liked in Infinite is that Cortana realized that her actions were wrong, and tried to make up for it on her own accord. Having the Didact convince her of the error of her ways really cheapens this moment.

The other thing that kind of fell flat is the Didact's belief that his new calling is to forge his own path:

But that's not true. This choice was the Librarian's, who wanted him to forgive and learn from humanity all along. He, of all people, should know this.

Now, about the Librarian. The Great Manipulator. There's irony in the fact that she is ostensibly the character with the most agency in the entire universe, but is consistently a narrative wisp. She "is" Halo--the course of the universe as they know it unfurled from her plans. Everything that happens, happens because of her.

And yet, we never see or hear from her in any meaningful way. We never hear her story from her mouth. I already knew that she wouldn't appear, save for a big reveal at the end, because Halo novels have done this no less than twice before. It's frustrating to see her consistently presented as this ethereal figure with no real voice.

At least in Point of Light, Spark challenges her a little bit--he accuses her of manipulating him, of abandoning him and then asking for his help, of assuming he will assist her because of her imprinted influence, and ultimately, he does, because that's how powerful she is. I wanted to see some of that, to have the Didact call her out or even just disagree with her, a little. Instead, he spends the book yearning for her (I will concede that his flashbacks are a little cute, alright? You got me there).

The Librarian is complex. She's a hero and a villain. Everyone who knew her would tell you so. But you'll never hear it from her! Sigh.

Also, her choice of words: "Took you long enough, Warrior." Is that a reference to Halsey in Halo 5? We're really drawing that parallel??

To the original question of "What if we did this instead":?

I mean...I prefer the Didact "alive" than dead so, yes? I guess? You really can't be a Halo fan in 2024 without being very forgiving.

In the end, he's still essentially "checked out" making it clear that he's not going to meddle in mortal affairs anymore. So narratively, he's dead. But yeah fine, this kind of dead is better than being super-composed.

The book also slams the door on the (very huge) implications of humans being allowed in the Domain. Is it all humans? Only composed humans? The Forerunners rose to power because of their access to the Domain. Does that mean that humanity will--oh, sorry. Oh, sorry, what? The Domain is fading into obscurity? We're not telling anyone its open so we don't have to deal with that? Got it.

This point also made me laugh because the Didact is satisfied and resting on his laurels because adding humans to the Domain created "diversity", and therefore, balance. Hey, Didact? There's an entire galaxy of intelligent species out there??

Which begs one final question: Do Unggoy go to heaven?

#thank you for coming to my Eld talk #halo epitaph #halo novels #the didact #the librarian #forerunners #halo #mine

[sorrinslays]

Gepard's role in the story

(crack theory territory)

So, I'm sure I'm not the only one that noticed, but Gepard is extremely underused in the story, which is such a shame?

Like, I counted the times we see him in the main story and it's disappointing. We (Astrall Express Crew) see him at the start after Sampo ditches us, where he takes us to Cocolia and all, then we see him again at the end of the story when he's trying to stop us because he believes we are trying to harm the Supreme guardian and he fights us and his Sister and that's it. We don't see him again.

Then, when Topaz comes to Jarillo VI he is there for two scenes again. One where he tries to stop Topaz and gets ambushed and one at the end where he stops a woman from getting crushed to death.

Even in 'his' (Serval's) companion quest, he takes the backseat. Sure, the story was about Serval and her getting over Cocolia and Gepard's role was him just trying to show Serval that she is still needed in Belobog, but honestly they could've done more with him.

I think people forget that he doesn't know the truth of what really happened to Cocolia? (as far as I'm aware at least). Can you imagine if he learned the truth? The mental breakdown that he'll experience?

This man has been serving her for the better part of a decade. He was spoon-fed propaganda like that Underworlders are 'wild' (an item description mentions that he had to fight 'wild Underworlders' I'm pretty sure) and blindly following the Supreme Guardian's orders for years. How is he supposed to react when he learns that those 'necessary sacrifices' of his fellow guards was just an excuse to get rid of more Belobogians for the 'dream' the Stellaron promised Cocolia.

Don't forget, he knew those people. They were friends, comrades, people he saw everyday. And all of them were dying on the daily and he was powerless to do anything.

And when he learns the truth, how is he gonna react to Bronya's decision to cover it up? Were the deaths of his friends in vain? Do their families not deserve to know the truth as to why their loved ones died? How much blood does the late Supreme Guardian have on her hands? How much of it has transferred to Bronya? How much blood does Gepard have on his hands because he never questioned his orders?

Point is, he is so important to Belobog, he's the Goddamn Captain of the only military service they have there, obviously he is needed! So why underuse him so much?

Well, this is where we move more into theory territory. I think it ties in with a future Belobog quest that Black Swan's companion quest hinted at (at the end during Sampo's and Sparkle's conversation).

Since Gepard has been on the backburner, we have yet to see Sampo and Gepard interacting and the fact Sampo still doesn't have a companion quest even though he is an important lore character I think all of that will happen in the future.

I think it would work best as a quest without the Astral Express Crew, like the new POV mechanic or the cut aways used in the Loufu for Dan Heng. We could play as Gepard or Sampo as they are forced to work together for whatever reason.

We could play as Gepard as something big happens in the restricted zone (AKA the catastrophe Sparkle teased Sampo about). Maybe he gets informed about it (maybe we get a new 4* character that's a guard that informs Gepard) and when he makes it there, Sampo is already here, as if expecting it.

Maybe Bronya calls Gepard to her office after an anonymous tip was sent to her warning the Silvermane Guards of a catastrophe coming to Belobog. Maybe he is tasked with finding who sent the note as well as prepering for said catastrophe, which is how he runs into Sampo, having the two working together.

Maybe we play as Sampo, leaving clues for the Silvermane guards until we reveal ourselves, getting that 5* version. Maybe we are the one pushing the puzzle pieces so they fit on their own or maybe all through the quest we keep cutting back to a game of chess between Aha and Sampo, showing the unpredictable nature of the catastrophe as it was orchestrated by Aha just for shits and giggles.

Either way, this works great as a pathway to seeing:

a) the dynamic between Sampo (arguably the most mysterious character to come from Belobog) and Gepard (resident bbg)

b) 5* Sampo

c) (and this is mostly me playing around with concepts) Gepard becoming an emanator, becoming the first on screen character to be turned into an emanator

d) a great end to Sampo's character arc by becoming a part of Belobog (maybe he even becomes part of the Silvermanes as a detective)

e) more Geppie screen time and exploration of his character

(a few extra ramblings from my demented as a treat)

I think it's criminal that Gepard doesn't have his own companion quest and he's practically shoved in his sister's, and considering that Sampo doesn't have his own......................

I think it would be fair to have these two in a companion quest of their own.

I'm thinking of a quest where Sampo becomes a Silvermane guard (a detective to be more precise) and Gepard learns the truth about Cocolia.

I can imagine that during some investigation that Gepard is having a hard time with due to the Underworlders not trusting the Silvermane guards, he is forced to seek Sampo's help. So through Natasha, he gets ahold of Sampo and the two work together where Gepard, through investing a shady group learns what actually happened to Cocolia as well as all the lies he's been getting spooned-fed for years.

One mental breakdown and emotional conversation between the two later, they catch the criminals and Gepard takes it upon himself to make Sampo part of the Silvermane guards because of how helpful he's actually been recently (main story + new quest with the catastrophe + the companion quest + helping the Underworld in general).

The companion quest ends with Sampo becoming a detective (Heizou from Genshin Impact style) where he wants to prevent crimes from happening before they even committed. His reason being 'criminal to detective is pretty stereotypical and Aha might blow up the planet' so he challenges himself to stop crime before it's committed to keep Aha entertained enough that they don't blow up the planet but uninterested enough that they don't actively observe.

I think it would be a great end to both character arcs.

Gepard gets more screentime and learns to question orders (it'd be nice to see his friendship with Bronya damaged, cause technically he is her uncle (Cocolia adopted Bronya while she was still in a relationship with Serval, making him an uncle)). Maybe he also reaches the conclusion of still being a Silvermane Guard for the sake of protecting the people but not actively following the Supreme Guardian because he lost faith in her.

Sampo gains a home and (gasp) love (platonic, romantic, doesn't matter). He'll feel like he belongs somewhere, a permanent home. Not matter if he leaves the planet for a day or a year, he'll still be welcome. His reputation improves and his skill is used for the betterment of Belobog. His mask is allowed to slip, even just a little.

#the last part is mostly ideas for my own fanfic #can you tell? #don't expect anything soon though #I'm still struggling with exams and other projects #plus one of the protagonists is Seele and I hate writing her #anyway Gepard and Sampo my bbgs #Gepard needs more screentime #although the post derailed quickly to Sampo #sampo my beloved #I want these two to interact so bad #I just know it's gonna be the funniest shit ever #Sampo would be the biggest menace ever #and Gepard would just suffer #Gepard would be this close to strangling Sampo #real talk tho #I think there's a conversation to be had between these two #like they are so different yet so similar? #at least in their goal of protecting Belobog #after all #Gepard protects Belobog because it's his home #and Sampo does the same because it makes him happy #they both find elation in preserving Belobog #just in different ways #some more questionable from others #sampo koski #gepard landau #sampo hsr #hsr gepard #character analysis #honkai star rail

[chyertsar]

♔. synopsis: koschei is the youngest of the seelie queen’s three sons: two of which she bore through her late husband, and the youngest being the son of her royal guard. after her death, koschei’s father took him away from the faerie realm to protect him from the deadly plot of his older half-brother, casimir. the runaway prince was ultimately left to the charge of a witch woman named jadwiga, who raised him as her apprentice and stable hand. in his reckless youth, koschei revealed his whereabouts to the faefolk by the improper use of his magic. tricked and abducted by a pooka who'd served casimir, he was flung into a prison realm where he battled for his life for nine infernal years. now having finally escaped, koschei seeks to take revenge on his brother and unseat him as the new seelie king . . . affiliated with rainfile

♔. not set to any particular canon, but will be drawing from a mix of inspirations: slavic and irish folklore, dante’s inferno, naomi novik's uprooted, as well as koschei’s original fairytale ( specifically, his ties to baba yaga and her horses ). i’m happy to comply and/or adjust this to other canons though !

♔. he can possibly be encountered: 1 ) in his youth – as a witch’s apprentice and stable hand – in a village outside the faerie realm that i can easily integrate with any fantasy setting 2 ) traveling through a chthonic realm(s) after being wrongfully cast out from his world; 3 ) as the returned seelie prince, now in possession of the sun stone and gathering allies to dethrone his brother

♔. once he becomes the new seelie king by forcing casimir's retreat, he's either still hunting the traitor down or ( if he’s managed to find and kill him already ) fully settled into his position. . . although proving to be not much of an improvement. 

♔. something he encountered in the prison realm is trying to seek retribution for his escape and/or use koschei as a vessel which is driving him to venture further into the dark arts to mitigate the threat. consequently, a seelie king’s unnatural use of magic is having adverse effects on the realm and those surrounding it (e.g., fluctuating temperatures, overgrowths, root rots). many are starting to question what is really afoot or whether he should remain king

it is said by those who ought to understand such things, that the good people, or the fairies, are some of the angels who were turned out of heaven, and who landed on their feet in this world, while the rest of their companions, who had more sin to sink them, went down farther to a worse place. . . . t. crofton crocker the priest's supper

shortly after the birth of the seelie queen's third son, a solar eclipse brought with it the end of a reign. the seelie queen was struck with an incurable illness and decided to leave the matter of succession up to the morrigan by taking her crown jewel ( the sun stone ) and casting it out into the realm. on the eve of her death, she declared that whoever ventured to find the stone would be the recognized monarch of the seelie folk.

her two eldest sons, casimir & oisín, searched every corner of the realm for the stone, but they had no luck. the eldest, aggrieved by his mother's ploy to refuse what he felt was rightfully his, conspired with an unseelie fae to get rid of his brothers, allowing him to take the throne by proxy. oisín was the first to mysteriously disappear, but before any harm could come to the infant prince, his father fled with him back to the eastern lands where his people, the víly, had migrated from. there he called on a favor from an old friend, the bear guardian of an untamable wood.

she could not house the prince. after giving up her bearskin to marry a mortal man, lord lenkov, she knew of only one person who could rival the faerie's magic and thus better protect the child: jadwiga, the local witch woman. she was a capricious crone who the villagers avoided where they could, but they also greatly depended upon her. she was the best healer that could be found within a day's journey, so the people turned a blind eye to her impious nature and allowed her to make a discreet living out of curing their ailments ( and personal vendettas ) via a mix of herbalism and zagоvory ( incantations and sorcery ). but to the priests and boyars who traveled near ( and lived to tell the tale of it ) she was known as one of the finest horse breeders in the kingdom.

jadwiga was convinced to take in the faerie child, if only for the convenience of having an extra hand to help tend to her fields and mounts. she named him koschei, her servant, though she endeared herself to him in time. jadwiga also never lied about his being an orphan brought to her door, nor had it been possible to hide from him that he was one of the fae ( a vilak, is what she called him, even when the boy questioned why he had four wings and not two ) she glamoured his faerie form until he was old enough to learn the art himself. koschei proved to be an eager pupil, and not even the crone could deny his gift for sorcery. at the age of 10, she took him on as an apprentice; her one condition was that he was not to wield magic outside the confines of her hut. jadwiga made it clear that his survival depended upon heeding this, but his coming of age was rife with mischief and recalcitrance.

at barely 17, koschei was forced to reckon with his foolishness when jadwiga had no choice but to leave the hut on important business. she was gone for three days, and in that span koschei tended to the villagers who came to her hut during the day, and wrangled her wandering horses back to the stables at night. on the third day, he broke the witch woman's rule for one final time. on the third night, a stallion had strayed farther than the others. he found it in the middle of the main road to the lenkovs’ village, but something was off. the beast, its mane mangled and flank covered in mud, refused to move forward, apparently too spooked. 

unable to assuage its fear, koschei did as he was taught: he used a handkerchief to blind the horse and mounted it to spur it forward. sure enough the horse began to trot – and then galloped at breakneck speeds. try as he may, koschei could not reign in the beast nor unmount his back. its laugh was a wicked sound which made clear that this was no horse. it was the pooka who'd come to deliver on the final piece of his bargain with casimir. koschei was dragged through the bramble of the wood until the pooka finally came to an abrupt stop and launched koschei into a boghole–  an ancient portal that swallowed him, like his brother before him, into a prison realm where no soul could hope to escape.

the search was deemed futile. jadwida could sense that koschei was no longer in this plane. still, lord lenkov's son, mishka, who had grown up with koschei and considered him his best companion, scoured the woods for him until even he lost hope. for nine years koschei had been assumed dead. then, on a cold night, he showed up again at jadwiga’s doorstep: covered in mud and blood, smelling of brimstone and decay, but he was alive and tied loosely around his neck was the sun stone. refusing to speak on what he endured or how he had managed to come back from that underworld, he instead demanded to know the truth about how he came to be jadwiga’s charge. she gave him the whole of it, but he only cared to know who was responsible for his banishment into the hellmouth. 

there was no reasoning with him then. koschei set out for the faerie realm, posing as a vílak refugee to infiltrate his treacherous brother’s summer guard. he didn’t trust that revealing his true identity and possession of the sun stone would be enough to stave off another one of his brother’s ploys and earn his seat. it was his mother's mistake to underestimate casimir's influence with both the seelie and unseelie folk, and it was not one koschei intended to repeat. now he hides in plain sight, biding his time forming secret alliances with whomever he can ( the other víly especially ) bent on gathering the forces he needs to stage a successful coup.

♔. the víly ( pl.) [ sing. fem. víla , mas. + neu. vílak ] in this verse are not subject to a particular gender and is generally known in the faerie realm as a subclass of "lesser" fae. they originally lived among mortals, serving as guardians of the forests or sworn to protect chosen heroes, who they refer to as their vílenik. eventually, christianization ( or some similar cultural shift ) turned the mortals against them, and they were driven to seek refuge in the faerie realm, where they were accepted into the military class. the víly are similar to the valkyrie in appearance and function, but also have other distinguishing features dependent on the element of nature they embody. they can be found in both the seelie & unseelie courts.

♔. koschei's faerie form is a mix of his parents: his father was a vílak with a universal pair of bird-feathered wings, but was distinguished as one from the woodland víly by his horns made of tree bark. his mother as the seelie queen of summer had four fairy wings of gold, which leaves koschei's true form to appear as four white feathered wings, horns made of tree bark, golden hair and lots of summertime whimsy

♔. his wings were badly burned in the time he spent within the hellmouth, rendering him flightless, but he'll still glamour them and all other markers of his struggle so as to appear unmarred. it's not that others aren't aware of his inability to fly, but that he's conscious of appearances being deemed important in the seelie court, and he'd rather not incite further discourse of his being unfit to rule

♔. koschei mayyy or may not be deathless post-hellmouth -- that's not a theory anyone has managed to test yet, so most muses can assume he isn't :3 also we're heavy on the yarilo and icarus-vs-lucifer vibes here; this (zombie) fae boy is looking no older than his late 20s.

[holly-fixation]

Angelic Aid: Chapter 3

Summary of this Chapter: The Princess of Cetra is dragging the Prince of Jenova through the streets of the city to find a cat to see if his eyes dilate like one. And cats are always weird little guys. Bit of plot. Bit of angst. 70% comedic. I hope you enjoy!

Inspired by this art by @tannarys on twitter and follow up art that is absolutely adorable

Please Enjoy!

Note: Thank you to everyone that waited patiently for an update. I hope this chapter of over 3,000 words and a few neat events makes up for the months of no news. Please enjoy!

Chapter 3: A Kitten

Night in their small city was very different from day. The outdoor surplus market was completely closed, as if it did not exist since the people removed their product as well as their stands from the open plaza. Birds in trees cawed at their young to return to the nests for the evening. The individual gardens were no longer filled with harvesters, only a guard or two near the entrances to the fences. Farms were a human invention, large areas of land restricted to food production only. Cetra gardens were small, individual and only meant to serve a little more than the families living in the homes. When there was enough surplus, they would set up their stands in the market. But guards were only to prevent and deter unwanted ‘harvesters’ from stealing. They couldn’t do anything to stop the animals. 

And that’s why the young Princess of Cetra skipped along the garden road, the backstreet where many gardens happened to be facing, all but dragging the Prince of Jenova with her.  

“We use cats to eat the bugs and mice and small birds that try to steal from our gardens,” Aerith explained happily as she checked if the prince was still behind her, though the distance between them only increased as time continued. 

Sephiroth sighed softly as he followed with un-rushed steps. “You are far from the only culture to use animals for pest regulation.”

“But not all of them!” She cheerfully added, turning another corner. “We keep them as pets too! Do you know what a pet is?”

“Yes I know what a pet is,” He stated coldly, almost mockingly. 

“Do you have one?”

Silence passed between them for a moment. Then his question surprised her. “Are pets not considered frivolous?”

She shook her head of bouncy brown hair. “No. Not to The Planet. We try to give all our animals a good life. And not every kitten is born to hunt.” She heard a scoff. 

“So you take the useless ones as pets?” He watched her nod before he ducked to avoid the leaves of a tree while she stopped her skip and walked ahead without disturbance. “Even after they’re old enough for their tasks?” Another nod. “Why?”

Her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “What do you mean?” She turned and met his unnatural eyes with a tilted head. “Do your people get rid of pets if they can’t?”

“No, ours fulfill their tasks no matter what.”

She blinked a few times as she tried to gather a response, stopping completely. “You train every one of your pets to have a purpose?”

“Of course,” He stated simply. “Everything has a purpose. And it is met with either resistance or acceptance.”

“What kind of pet always fulfills its purpose?”

He thought for a moment, crossing his arms as he searched for an explanation she would understand. 

She frowned. “You also never told me if you have a pet or not.”

He glared away, frustrated that she noticed his avoidance, before dropping the annoyance. The deal was time and communication, and sadly communication was a two way path. “We call our pets ‘star children’.”

“What do they look like?” She questioned without missing a beat.

He rolled his hand. “Picture the five pointed stars your people like to draw, except rounder, almost like a ball, with two black eyes.”

“What is their purpose?”

“Well,” He took a breath, “At a certain age, different for each color, they become supernovas.”

She tilted her head again, and he sighed again.

“A supernova is the death of a large star. A massive explosion that wipes out its solar system and possibly becomes a black hole.”

“They explode?!” She yelled, and behind her a few oddly shaped creatures ran at the sudden sound.

He blinked at her volume. “Yes.” Then he watched the sad and shocked expression form in her eyes before he felt himself complying. “It’s not painful. Their consciousness fades before the time comes.”

“But explosions are bad!”

“Not among the stars,” He stated simply before Aerith rapidly looked away, searching for anything to change the topic. When she finally spotted it, she pointed at it and held a finger to her lip in a gesture of silence, so he nodded and followed her sight. It was a small creature with white fur, pointed ears, and a long tail, walking along the side of the road.

“That’s a cat,” She whispered before standing on her toes and slowly making her way over, as he followed with immensely better stealth. “Here, kitty…” She called in a soothing voice before clicking her tongue and making a plucking hissing sound, “Pspspspsps…” The add creature looked at the little girl inquisitively, ears straight to the sky, but instead of approaching, it sat and licked its paw with its eyes closed in concentration. “See?” She turned to the prince. “Do you see how your eyes are similar?”

Considering she asked this question the moment the creature’s eyes were blocked, he could not agree. They watched the creature wipe its now licked paw over its head multiple times before it looked with wide eyes, and perfectly circular pupils, at Sephiroth. “Were you asking if my eyes dilate like that?” 

She nodded, and the cat no longer had any interest in her. It stared directly at the silver hair of the prince, then slowly sauntered over and rubbed its side and tail against his black boots. Aerith giggled. “I think she likes you.”

He just stared at the creature with narrowed eyes. But it wasn’t trying to harm him, so he guessed it was okay to leave it be. 

It meowed. 

Sephiroth immediately stared at the creature in confusion from the incredibly high pitch sound it just emitted, scanning it for its intentions. It didn’t seem to show them, but walked behind him and meowed again. “Is it trying to communicate?”

Aerith nodded again. “They usually meow if they want something from you. Attention, food, play,” She listed as it meowed again. She tried to discern what this specific cat wanted, slowly moving closer with wide eyes, and it didn’t acknowledge her. “She wants something from you.”

He stared at the small creature and tried questioning it. “What do you want.” It meowed again and walked further back, then turned to him and made the same sound. He only knotted his brows in confusion.

But Aerith understood. “She wants us to follow.” She turned to him with that little spark of joy she always had, “Let’s go!” She walked towards the cat, and sure enough it kept going forward and looking back. 

Sephiroth nearly groaned at the inconvenience but tailed them nonetheless. It led them around two corners and then down an alleyway between gardens, full of yellow hay for the livestock. There were multiple mounds of the reflective straw, and the cat pranced into a hole inside the pile along the wall. The prince looked to the princess for an explanation, but she just shrugged and gestured to the entrance. He took a breath before leaning down. But he couldn’t see anything, though he heard multiple ‘meows’ from inside. He rested on his knees, yet still did not have the proper angle to spot them. Finally he kicked his feet to one side and practically laid on the ground, using his hand to support his head above the dirt. 

Inside were the cat they followed and three tiny cats, one brown, one white, one black, their little faces scrunched compared to their mother as they mewed softly at the guest. 

The princess gasped, and only now did he see her looking inside too from right above his head. “She has kittens!” She really did try to whisper her excitement so as to not disturb them. She really did. 

“Hm.” He didn’t sound impressed, watching the sight analytically, especially when the young black one stood up and began crawling, with a small stumble, towards him. Once through the tunnel, he lifted his head and adjusted his position, staring down at the creature with one knee and one foot planted on the ground, leaning onto his arm for a closer look. 

It mewed at him, and Aerith seemed ready to faint at the adorable noises. 

Sephiroth didn’t realize his current position left him vulnerable to the tiny creatures, his bangs dangling as they always did made the kitten’s eyes expand to almost as dark as its fur and swat at the them. He just watched inquisitively. “...Is it playing?”

“Try moving your hair from side to side,” She suggested as she watched the creature with wide green eyes. 

Sure enough, even when the only movement was from turning his head to glare at the girl, the young kitten jumped and swatted quickly the strands, before both creating knots and catching its nails in the hair. Aerith giggled at the kitten’s playfulness while the little creature struggled to remove its hooks. First, he jerked his head up only an inch to try and disentangle the paw, yet he only succeeded in lifting the kitten up, which held on with all its paws to prevent falling. Surprisingly, he smirked at the creature. 

“I think this one is a hunter.” He carefully grabbed the kitten, and it dug its nails into his glove for balance as he removed it from his hair. Then he hovered the limb above the ground, and after a minute passed, the kitten slowly removed its claws as it finally returned. It ran back into the tunnel and mewed once inside. 

Aerith stared at him in disbelief. “You like cats.”

He glared defensively as he stood up. “I do not.”

“You do!” She countered playfully. “Maybe it’s because you look the same.”

He stared blankly, completely ignoring her statement. “We should head back to your home.”

She shook her head. “We haven’t been gone that long. My mom’s still cooking dinner. She knows I always come back on time.”

“Then why don’t we go back early.” His request did not come out like a question, it was a statement. He was already walking out of the alley.

She crossed her arms in defiance. “I’m not leaving.”

He stopped and gave her an annoyed look, but she stood her ground, huffing under her breath and adjusting in place. Then he lowered his gaze. “What are you trying to do?”

She spoke far too quickly as she responded with averted eyes, backing down from his challenge, “What do you mean ‘what am I trying to do’? I’m trying to stay here.”

“Don’t lie to me.” It was obvious in the way her hands kept searching for purchase while her gaze searched for anything other than him. “What are you trying to do?”

She kicked some of the dirt by her feet and grumbled as fast as possible with the smallest breath, “I-want-you-to-pick-me-up…”

His challenge dropped. “Really? That’s what you want from me?”

Her eyes finally met his in surprise. He wasn’t supposed to hear that. 

“I will not lift you.”

“But you’re strong enough!”

“I am. But I am not using my strength to lift you.”

“Please.” It was clearly only the first step of her pleading. 

However, Sephiroth’s sharpened gaze and serious thin pupils made her drop her act, having her walk over and mutter under her breath.

“Spoil sport…” She passed him. “But I won’t let you off easy next time.”

Of course there would be a next time.

“And you still haven’t shown me your wing!”

Suddenly a metallic clank echoed through the alley, and Sephiroth immediately wrapped his hand around the hilt of his blade and pulled Aerith behind him. Aerith saw the intense gaze in his eyes and immediately realized he was trying to analyze the situation without understanding it.

“Sephiroth,” She used his name to draw his attention to her, “We’re near the training ground for the army. That’s all that sound was. Don’t worry, we’re all safe.”

He released his iron grip on both her wrist and his sword before he sighed in relief, visibly losing the tension and posture. 

“Why don’t we go check it out?” She suggested with a tilt of her head, fully believing it would relieve some of his stress, while he thought this was possibly the best suggestion she’s made since he arrived. He nodded, and the two crossed a couple of streets, each step closer resulting in increasing clashing of all pitches as well as some shouting from the instructors. Sure enough, there was a metal fence surrounding ten pairs of sparing soldiers as if they’d only held a blade for a few weeks. The captain from the meeting observed and corrected each one on basically every aspect individually as time went on, clearly working on the deal he agreed to earlier. 

Sephiroth watched each pair carefully before softly telling the princess, “They’re not ready.”

She looked to her feet in response and fiddled with her hands. “That’s why we called you...”

He gave her a soft nod before returning to his quiet dissection of their skills, his predatory eyes roaming over every detail. On about the sixth pair, something was off. A light haired soldier glanced between both the captain, as expected, but also them. They were too far for Aerith to notice the eyes that were absolutely on them. He almost assumed the man was only staring at him, which would make sense considering the day’s events. He also knew that assumptions got people killed. And that soldier performed far better than the others. Something was wrong. “Stay behind me.”

She was so bewildered by the command that she didn’t realize what he said until he already hopped the fence. “Hey, wait!” She tried to catch up as he wove his way through the field, but climbing the fence was much harder at her height than his.

To her surprise, he noticed, and came back, offering a hand to help. She only held her arms up and stood still, then he took an annoyed breath before lifting her over the barrier. “See? Was that so hard?” She didn’t see his response as he turned back, gesturing to follow, which she did. 

As the soldiers saw the royalty approach, they stopped their sets, and the captain yelled at them again before spotting the prince and princess arrive. He stepped in front of his men to the silver haired teen. “I told you I’d have something set up at dawn,” He reminded before asking. “What are you doing here so soon?”

“You have a spy among you,” Sephiroth stated seriously. 

The captain raised a brow, but he also learned from the meeting not to underestimate this child. “How and who?”

He gestured to the soldier, who looked at him defensively in confusion. “The one with light hair.”

Now the soldier stared at his captain with slightly bated breath. “What is he talking about?”

“My best soldier is a spy? Is that what you’re telling me?”

Sephiroth nodded curtly. “He’s clearly had more training than anyone here. That’s why his growth is exponentially higher than the rest. I assume you’ve noticed as well.”

Now the captain glared at the soldier in challenge. And the soldier in question ran. “Hey!” But before any of his soldiers could react, the angel had already knocked the spy to the ground with a long sword pointed at the spy’s throat.

“Take him to a prison or kill him,” The angel ordered. “He knows too much to return to the human army. And if he does, you will die instead of him. Understood?” 

The remaining soldiers nodded and dragged the spy away as well as guarded the transport, even if it was with training blades. 

The captain looked to the boy and spoke with sincerity, “Thank you.”

Sephiroth nodded. “It’s our treaty.” That was as close as they were getting to acknowledgement of their thanks. He turned back to the young princess, but was genuinely surprised when her eyes were wide from the impressive discovery. Just for that, she did not question him on their way back to her home, and he absolutely relished the first moments of silence since they entered the city. 

* * *

The meal was surprisingly good. He hadn’t expected it when he could barely recognize the meat and vegetables on his plate. Though he would never admit that fact. Aerith brutally murdered the silence she allowed earlier as she relayed nearly every detail of their little excursion to her mother, who only smiled sweetly and nodded until she mentioned the spy. Then he has no choice but to answer the queen's questions. Still, after clearing the meal and cleaning the dishes, it was quiet in the royal home, and the daughter’s early bedtime only aided that. The mother followed not long after. But the prince barely had the brain power to remove his sword and slide it between the wall and the mattress for easy reach as he all but passed out on top of the covers. Interplanetary travel, even when instant by materia, mentally taxed anyone who dared go through. Usually his exception was immersing himself fully in battle until the task was complete, the adrenaline pumping through his veins with each attack as he continued the conquest repelled the exhausted impact on his mind, which wasn’t an option in this tiny royal home. Without the option to eradicate all enemies as well as the request to save the people of the planet, strategies must be implemented. He couldn’t brandish his sword and tear the planet to its very core if it meant disobeying his task, and these merciful people surely wouldn’t allow him to slaughter the others completely for the sake of efficiency. It was expected, but it still wasn’t pleasant when the cursed side effect made itself known at the end of the meal. He would be back in complete control after a night’s rest, which was the reason he allowed himself to sleep like this: on top of the covers, fully clothed save his boots and his blade, and facing the wall with his hair dangling off the side. 

He later realized that wasn’t the best decision. 

He didn’t know what time he was woken by the feeling of something moving his hair, the touch intended to be soothing but only heightened his caution as he forced the single functioning part of his sleep weighed brain to ask the question Who would be reckless enough to touch my hair in my sleep? He opened his eyes and quickly turned, pulling the strands back and hearing a high pitched gasp. He glared as his assumption was proven true by his sight. 

Aerith had a thin black ribbon in her hand and stared at him in alarm as she was caught completely red handed. She was lucky he didn’t break her wrist in self defense or, even worse, grab his sword by instinct.

“What are you doing?” He whispered angrily, as he sat up on the bed and glared down at her.

“I was trying to braid your hair,” She explained instantly and defensively in a slightly higher volume. 

“Why?”

“You were sweating. A lot,” She stated simply. 

He glared at first but quickly realized she was right. His body was covered in the sticky residue of dried sweat, clinging to his skin and his clothes. 

“And you were also shaking but I didn’t know how to help with that but it didn’t seem like shivering so I tried to braid your hair to cool you down because I know I’m always cooler when I have a braid and I know it would be better if I could remove your jacket but also that would be a lot harder to do while you slept so I thought a braid would help and I’m sorry.” She did not take a single breath through her panicked explanation, and the prince was almost impressed. Her complete embarrassment carried her lungs through her rant. 

Yet he was also frustrated at one fact of the matter. “Why were you here in the first place?”

She looked down at her feet to avoid his burning eyes. “I needed water.”

He sighed. So it truly was her kind nature which made her do this. Punishing her with a lecture and more questions would do nothing. She clearly wasn’t a threat. “Did you get it?”

She nodded slowly. 

Tiredly, he dropped his frustration in attempted kindness. “Then, please go back to bed.” 

She nodded one more time before turning away. “Goodnight, Sephiroth.” 

He didn’t return the farewell as she walked up the stairs. Then he nearly groaned into his hands before shucking off his coat and his boots and laying back on the bed, unable to stop his searching thoughts. He had a nightmare? He couldn’t remember anything. He hadn’t had a nightmare in years. It was an odd feeling, distasteful in his stomach. When was the last time he was sent to another planet for more than twelve hours? No, he’d done this plenty of times. That wasn’t the problem. When was the last time he stayed on a different planet for a conquest? He didn’t have any in memory. He remembered arriving on different planets, slaughtering the enemies no matter how long it took, returning, and passing out in the hall of his home without fail. When he woke, no matter the injuries or the success of the conquest, he would be in his bed, all of his wounds wrapped, to his mother softly stroking his hair within the dimly lit room. Some nights he would fall back immediately, others he would meet the kind red gaze of his mother before smiling and sharing a loving look before drifting back to sleep. His eyebrows scrunched as a frustrating realization hit him. Was he…homesick? 

He threw away the thought as quickly as it came and returned to rest in this unfamiliar place. 

. 

.

.

.

Thanks for reading! 

Author's notes: Sorry the ending is sad. I really tried to keep it comedic but the homesick idea hit me and it wouldn't go away. Also I realized I "world built" all of Gaia for the humans and Cetra but did not give Sephiroth's planet the same treatment, so I'm pulling from a few different sources to fill in the gaps. I hope you enjoyed! (Check tags for more)

#ff7 #ffvii #sephiroth #aerith gainsborough #jenova #final fantasy 7 #final fantasy vii #Next update is the college AU #Where Sephiroth is a god of the stars and Cloud is just a poor college kid with a lot of stress #I wrote an entire mythology for those gods so you better believe I have more coming #thanks for reading!! hope you enjoy!! #aeriseph #angelic aid

[phoenixyfriend]

Time Travel ft. Leia and Vader

(Helped by @atagotiak)

I was reading a bunch of different time travel fics, and my brain slotted in that one "Vader hands over the Empire to Leia and is now her most devoted sycophant" dynamic and mixed it with the "Luke and Vader time-travel and Vader does the right thing but only because it would make Luke sad if he didn't."

I landed on "Leia time travels to prequels era, but her least favorite family member has also traveled with her, though it takes him a few months to find her because he has less resources without the entire Imperial Navy, but he's still a scary Sith in all black with a breathing mask and intimidating cape."

"Tiny angry lady who wants to force democracy and her giant Sith father whom she hates but has resigned herself to pointing at threats like a tank who inexplicably loves her" is a delightful dynamic.

The first few months included a lot of concern about "why do you know so much about Sith if you're not trained or looking to be one" and then Vader shows up and calls her 'daughter' and she insults him and it's like "Oh. That explains it."

Council Member: We have a Sith in the Temple. Vader: Former Sith. Leia: Listen. He is your best chance against Sidious. Also, do you want Dooku dead? Vader can make him dead. Council Member: Your father i-- Leia, scrunching up her face: Don't call him that.

Like Leia is deep in conversation when the Temple starts panicking because Vader just. Showed up? He snuck in, somehow? So Palpatine wouldn't catch him on video entering through the front door? And people try to keep her away from the trouble, because there's an entire array of Jedi Masters to deal with this Surprise Sith, except she can sense exactly which Sith it is and once she shouts "oh you have got to be kidding me!" she just starts running and, well, it's Leia. Nobody can stop her.

(Leia does have less combat training, at least less force-assisted combat training, than the Jedi. But then the Jedi don’t want to hurt here here. She's not fighting her way down, either, she's just running really fast and all the best fighters already left. They had a head start. So Leia's mostly running past random padawans and the like.)

She shoves her way to the front of the group of Masters who. Well, they're certainly ready to attack. But Vader is just standing there. Doing nothing. Still intimidating as fuck but he's not doing anything.

And then Leia bursts onto the scene like "You motherfucker."

She hits her head on a clipboard and whines because UGH he's a walking WMD and they could REALLY use him against Palpatine but also. She hates him so much.

She tries to hand him off to the Jedi council but he insists that he will only take orders from Leia herself.

Jedi: Wait, what. Leia, completely ignoring them: Did you follow me here? Vader, through the mechanical wheezing: I have no loyalty to my master and no empire to serve. You are all that I have left. Leia: Me? Me? I'm all that you have left? You committed a genocide that killed all the family I had except for the twin brother you later mutilated! Jedi: Wait what Vader, going to one knee: I pledge my loyalty and blade to you and only you, daughter. Leia, ready to explode: I. I just. Jedi, some of whom really want to say things but are slowly realizing that they just accidentally acquired a Sith Lord by proxy: What. Leia: I hate you so much but I can't even get rid of you, you're too useful. Vader: I live to serve. Leia: Yeah. Got that. Fuck. Someone get him a full medical rundown, I don't know the last time that mess of a life support system was updated. Jedi, agitated again: WHAT Leia: Listen, I don't like him, but I'm not stupid enough to throw away the second most dangerous person in the universe when I can point him at the most dangerous person in the universe. Especially not if he's going to listen to me. Jedi: But... he's a Sith. Leia: Please trust me when I say this: you might be able to take him down eventually, but he will take dozens of you down with him, and right now he's... honestly, I'm pretty sure he's more depressed than malicious. Jedi: You hate him. I can feel it. Leia: Yes, but I can be professional about it. Vader: They have not yet d-- Leia: Nope! No talking! Not until I've had a chance to process this mess!

There is a whole lot of Leia snapping at Vader to stop it whenever he starts giving off vibes like he wants to take the most violent shortcut possible.

She is not the gentle hand that Luke would be.

Leia isn't a Jedi or working for them but she's wormed her way into being an ally. They don't 100% trust her, especially not with Vader just showing up and declaring her family but like

How do you say no to a WMD walking into your house and saying "I will fight the monster you cower from at night."

There's a lot of Leia snapping off an admonishment that sounds just a little too odd and then when questioned she just says "He knows what he did."

tbh I'm not sure how long it takes for them to tell anyone that Anakin is Vader. They might hold it off in hopes that Anakin can just retire to be Mr. Amidala after the war is over.

Well, Leia hopes. Vader just lets Leia make that call and then glowers at his younger self every time they're in the same room.

I do feel like Leia tells Obi-Wan the truth first

Imagine. Imagine a Vader who’s past still isn’t known. But has gotten somewhat comfortable around the Jedi (not really but the bar for what counts and comfortable for him is low). And Obi-Wan habitually banters with darksiders, right? If Vader’s guard is down for a moment and he, without thinking, references an inside joke...

Might be the most fun in terms of ways to tell Obi-Wan "We're time travelers and Vader is what happens if you let Palpatine drive Anakin off the edge"

If Vader has decided to pledge himself to her orders after destroying her planet, then fine. She can work with that. She's not going to be happy about it, but she can make it work.

The Jedi Temple hates having Vader anywhere nearby but he is actually very good at hiding himself from people, including Palpatine And for all that Leia seems perpetually irritated with her apparent bodyguard, he does seem to listen to her.

Jedi council: We still haven't figured out how to handle Dooku Leia: Do you know his location? Jedi council: Yes. Leia: [sigh] Leia: Vader, deal with it. Alive if possible.

(Leia does need to clarify an acceptable level of violence against the people protecting Dooku.) (She needs to clarify... many things.)

Leia always says "Vader" and one time a poor fool just asks why she doesn't call him dad and she snarls out "He is not the man that raised me, and I am glad for it."

Someone less foolish later prods more compassionately and she lets them know she was adopted and didn't properly meet Vader except in passing until she was nineteen.

"And then he tortured you." "And then he tortured me, yes." "Damn." "Didn't even find out we were related until a few years later when he chopped my brother's arm off." "You... wow." "I know."

At least one exchange that is L: You mean when you tortured me? A: He did what. V: I was not aware of our relation at that time. L: Not the point! I am fully aware of your interrogation methods and I refuse to let you be the one to acquire the evidence for-- A: Wait no go back he tortured you? L: Move on, please, we already have. A: That means I'm... oh Force, I'm going to torture my own daughter what in the actual fu-- L: We're moving on.

(“I end up torturing my own daughter” If Leia’s feeling especially spiteful I can see her saying “you mutilate your own son too”)

Concept: Leia is very free with traumatizing details of her past re:Vader and Anakin thinks that it sucks but doesn’t think much of it bc Sith. And then some time later he finds out...

(I love characters who use the traumatizing details of their past to shut down conversations.)

It's such a wonderfully horrifying concept for him to try to awkwardly comfort this girl he kind of knows because having a Sith for a dad sounds like it would suck and Leia seems nice, even if she's kind of weird and uncomfortable around Anakin, but he saw her flinch around a few other tall people wearing black robes the way she stiffens around Vader so maybe it's just that!

It is not.

Vader does get a significant amount of medical treatment. Including a bunch of "holy shit, that's a lot of drugs" and similar. There is so much lightning damage.

hnnng I'm just really in love with the image of Tiny Tiny Leia sitting behind a desk for some fancy negotiation, the picture of professionalism, while Vader just stands behind her shoulder, looming, glaring expressionless death at whoever came to speak with his baby girl.

Not that he would call her that, because she'd just hate him more and he's really not sure how to fix that problem, other than doing whatever she asks with no complaints and hoping she appreciates it.

Vader: [looks at children wandering by, has complicated emotions] Leia, tired of his shit: What now? Vader: I killed them, once. Leia, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath: And you're not going to do that again. No killing children. Vader: I know that. Leia: Great. I am... regretting asking. I am so very much regretting asking.

I do really like the idea of someone asking Leia once if she wants Jedi training and she says, no, actually, she's fully aware of the fact that she's angry little ball of hate sometimes, especially towards her bio father, and she'd like to refrain from putting herself in a position where she knows enough about the Force to Fall. She wouldn't Fall. But it does make people shut up.

#leia organa #princess leia #Darth Vader #Anakin Skywalker #obi wan kenobi #star wars #time travel #Phoenix Posts

[delimeful]

you cant go back (1)

BTHB: Locked Up and Left Behind

first in a new alien series! this one is completely unrelated to WIBAR :)

warnings: abandonment, violence, injury, mentions of death and starvation, mild cliffhanger

-

Virgil was screwed.

This was quite a familiar phrase for him. He most frequently utilized it while trying to haul Jan away from whatever batshit scheme he was joint-deep in before it blew up in their faces. Normally, however, even he could admit that his panic, fury, and/or despair was sometimes exaggerated for emphasis.

“I’m absolutely, massively, unbelievably screwed,” Virgil tried out in a low hissing whisper, and grimaced when it came out sounding like an understatement.

In the corner of his eye, his helmet’s display screen blinked an eye-numbing red, informing him that there was a breach in his suit, and the atmospheric pressure inside had been completely disrupted. There would normally be beeping, too, the shrieking ‘you’re about to die’ kind that made his shelling turn pitch with terror in simulations, but— well.

He’d been able to endure about two clicks of the racket before giving in and tearing through the audio speakers with his teeth, ruining them entirely. It meant he wouldn’t hear any of the vital organ failure notifications, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to experience a sickening play-by-play of his death on another planet anyhow.

The others had left him in some kind of dilapidated shack, hand-painted a faded red on the outside. It looked unstable, but it was apparently built sturdier than any of them expected, enough to not even creak as he thrashed around with all his free limbs. He’d been cuffed around one of the support pillars, which meant that even if he could break it, it would probably just immediately collapse and crush him to bits.

Considering there was an enormous crack in the glass of his helmet, he hadn’t really thought he’d get the privilege of worrying about how he was going to die. Aisleen— the one who had bashed his helmet against her elbow plate— had certainly agreed. She’d waited until after the others had left, granting him a quicker death the way her culture called honorable.

Janus would have disagreed loudly. Not just because Virgil was pretty sure his only friend didn’t actually want to see him choke to death on the probably-somehow-toxic atmosphere of a Deathworld, but also because that guy could go on about interplanetary ethics for rotations if you let him.

Virgil wrenched at his restraints for the hundredth time, ignoring the hot pulse of pain that came with the movement. His chitin had to be cracking by now, but the rawness of that was easier to focus on than thoughts like, ‘I’ll never get to watch him argue someone in circles again.’

The worst part wasn’t wondering if they’d fess up to abandoning him or not. No, the worst part was he wasn’t actually sure which option he preferred.

He could imagine Janus looking for him, searching for leads that didn’t exist, stubborn the way a starving shilsho would stay locked onto flesh. Never knowing what actually happened. Jan hated not knowing things, the way Virgil hated sitting with his back to an open entryway.

But if he knew… If Janus managed to wrest the truth from them— or if they bragged about it— he would blame himself. They’d left Virgil because he was just a weaker version of Janus when it came down to it, and because he backed Janus up no matter what, and because it was funny, leaving the twitchiest guy on the crew to die on a world where anything and everything could kill you.

At least Janus wouldn’t be tempted to come down and retrieve his corpse. The other Chelcera was all about self-serving scheming, and there was no way the benefits outweighed the costs. He had to believe that much for his own sanity.

Virgil closed his eyes, trying to push away the what-ifs and the mental flash-images of Janus stuck in his position. He had more than enough to worry about already.

Since the atmosphere didn’t seem toxic enough to kill him outright (for now), there was a surplus of possible ways he was going to bite it. Weather, wildlife, or withering into a lifeless husk due to lack of sustenance.

Alliteration, nice. He was funny when he was on the brink of deathbed hysterics.

For now, he was only in conceptual danger. The shack was sheltering him from any outside elements, being terrified had killed his appetite, and there didn’t seem to be any heat signatures nearby, though his vision was limited by the sides of the helmet.

It made his skin itch, not being able to see behind him, but his auxiliary arms were spread out and taut, waiting for even a wisp of movement. If anyone tried to attack him from behind, they’d strike quick and true.

Of course, then he’d probably be immediately immolated by a pissed-off Deathworlder, but at least he could go down fighting.

If he was vicious enough, they’d have to kill him, and he wouldn’t have to worry about being taken alive. Bitter venom welled up in his mouth at the thought, and he tried to breathe deeply.

He was thinking too far ahead. For now, he’d struggle and swear and watch his atmo tank dwindle down to nothing, see if it changed anything. Maybe he was going to asphyxiate, after all.

-

He made it through the night.

The sun was close to this planet, enough that he was warm even in the stripped-down version of his bodysuit and in the enclosed shade of the barn. He thought he might even get overheated if he tried to sunbathe here, which hadn’t ever been a concern back home.

Thankfully, the meager sun that spilled through the half-open window didn’t reach him, so he didn’t have to add boiling alive to his list of potential deaths.

Unthankfully, more and more heat signatures popped up as the dawn arrived, all small but still potentially life-ending. He’d heard more than enough horror stories about palm-sized Deathworlder creatures that could kill you with one bite. He wasn’t letting his guard down.

The noise that accompanied the day was welcome— he was exhausted, and every unfamiliar chattering call or whistle made his aux limbs lift back up defensively, keeping him from dropping off into sleep.

He was not falling asleep on a Deathworld. That was just asking for trouble.

The energy crash hit hard, though, and by the time the sun was overhead, he was warm and sleepy enough that he almost missed the slow creak of the door.

He definitely didn’t miss the bright splotch of heat that trotted in, though. He quickly flicked his sensor eyes closed, getting rid of the heat-sense overlay, and felt his hair stand on end as he met the slitted eyes of a small, furry quadruped.

“Mrow?” the creature chirped at him, tail winding back and forth in the air. Its fur was colored in abstract patches, and he could see the tiny fangs in its mouth as it yawned threateningly.

Virgil resisted the urge to hiss, wriggling his wrists desperately. There was no point in antagonizing a Deathworlder creature preemptively while bound and helpless, a voice in his head reminded him. It sounded kind of like Janus.

The creature stalked a little closer, predatory grace in every one of its movements, and paused to watch him again. It’s pupils seemed rounder now, ears flicked up attentively. Virgil resisted the urge to twitch his backlegs, keeping still like a terrified prey animal as it approached at a leisurely pace.

He’d had all of his bulky outer suit stripped from him by the others-- no point in leaving the soon-to-be-corpse with a pricy surface suit. They’d even taken the shoes, which had felt a bit like insult to injury.

Now, with the local fauna drawing close to his feet, it felt more like just plain injury.

As bad as the odds were, he was fervently hoping that he could make himself seem tougher than he was. Maybe having to work for its meal would scare it off? He grit his fangs and drew himself up in preparation to lash out as much as he could in retaliation for whatever damage the creature was about to inflict on him.

It trod directly over his feet and brushed its little head up against his legs, a low rumble beginning to emanate from it.

He stared blankly down at it.

“What?” he clicked quietly, and the creature chirped back at him, taking a tight turn to loop right back around and brush against him in the opposite direction. Still, not a hint of pain.

Did… Did it have contact poisons, maybe? There was a residue of shed fur building up on the ankles of his undersuit, but it seemed surprisingly harmless.

With another, louder rumble, the creature settled into a crouched position-- directly on top of his feet. Its eyes drifted slowly closed, the vibrations it was making rolling through him.

Oh, Seryl and all her stars. It was sleeping on him.

It seemed docile for now, but what would it do if he woke it? Even he threatened to bite people who interrupted his naps, and he wasn’t a tiny wild creature governed only by survival (no matter what Janus told people). His flimsy inner suit wouldn’t stop an Ampen’s claws, let alone Deathworlder teeth or claws.

The creature continued to be a warm purring weight on his feet.

He resigned himself to a very tense next few hours.

-

Patch, as he’d taken to mentally calling the creature, didn’t end up attacking him. When it woke, it stretched languidly, chirped up at him a few more times, and then departed shortly before the sunlight began to fade.

And then, the next morning, it returned. Despite Virgil’s many fears, it continued to show no interest in harming him. At some point in the day, he even accidentally fell asleep with it, and still, no surprise ambush.

Despite Patch’s yawns and rumbles and claw-flexing stretches that could all technically be threat displays, it seemed bizarrely… almost... fond of him.

There was the slightest hitch, on the second day, when he realized Patch could come in the other windows and approach from behind while he slept. Surprisingly enough, the thought of the creature sneaking up on him was less distressing than the idea of accidentally striking out at it while asleep.

The presence of a non-hostile creature keeping him company had been... surprisingly nice when he wasn’t busy freaking out about it.

Once he’d imagined that awful scenario, he couldn’t dismiss the possibility, and so he spent an inordinate amount of time using his aux limbs to fiddle with the sealing latch on his helmet until he could tug it free. The slick surface and broken glass of the visor meant that he fumbled it basically as soon as he got it off, letting it drop to the floor behind him, but the reserve power had already long died anyhow.

And then, when Patch returned a bit after the sun’s rising, they hissed viciously at him the moment he turned his head. They proceeded to refuse to come anywhere near him for a good long portion of the day, at first bristling and pacing back and forth, and then eyeing him oddly while pretending not to, and then finally approaching slowly-- in what Virgil struggled not to view as a predator’s stalk-- and deeming his feet a suitable resting perch once more.

He’d like to say he never had a friendship so exhausting, but his best friend was Janus, so this was basically different ditchport, same junkyard.

“You two’d probably get along,” he said to Patch after he’d been forgiven for the horrific crime of exposing his face. “How do you feel about schemes?”

Patch had imitated one of his double-click noises perfectly, which was somehow mostly-adorable instead of mostly-terrifying. He tried to make one of their little round chirp sounds and mangled it horribly, but thankfully the resulting look they gave him was more alarm than offense.

By the fourth day, he’d begun to keenly feel the effects of being completely without nutrients. It was really only thanks to his nature that he’d gotten this far. Chelcerae were sporadic eaters-- big meals sustained them over longer periods of time compared to other aliens. The downside of that, of course, meant that when his body finally realized that there was no food coming, the hunger pains were going to be all-consuming.

Working at Janus’s side, he’d gotten used to having food when he needed it, or even wanted it. It just figured that he was probably going to die the same way Janus had first found him: starving.

He fell into sleep more and more frequently. It passed the time, and being asleep made it much easier to ignore his impending doom.

Of course, if he’d been aware of the rude awakening he was in for, he wouldn’t have been so eager.

In fact, if he’d known what exactly was going to find him sleeping on that fourth day, he probably wouldn’t have dared to shut his eyes at all.

#sanders sides #ts virgil #alien au #you cant go back #ycgb #humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #my writing #writing #bthb #BTHB: Locked Up and Left Behind #cats #new alien au dropped

[amrita-gsk]

The official IchiRuki symbol Pt. 1

I had been thinking for a while about how we were given an official symbol for IchiRuki by none other than Kubo himself in the The Death Saves The Strawberry novel, adding to the enormous pile of stuff we already have, so after a lot of slacking on my part and a little of forcing myself to finally put my ass to work, I decided to delve deeper into its meaning and did some research on what it represents, so I’d like to share what I found. Buckle up people, this is gonna be long.

Let’s start with the background:

This is the insignia representing the 13th Division of the Gotei 13 and the one Rukia belongs to. Like all the other divisions’ insignias its design is based on a flower, in this case being the galanthus nivalis also commonly known as snowdrop.

Its name derives from the greek words γάλα (gala) which means “milk” (making reference to its white color) and ἄνθος (anthos) which means “flower”. At the same time nivalis is an epithet derived from latin which means “of the snow”, so its name could also be read as “white flower of the snow”.

Known for blooming during the months between January and May and even being capable of doing it when the snow hasn’t disappeared yet, this flower symbolizes the beginning of something new due to its ability of blooming at the end of winter and announcing the start of spring, and regarding the latter, the hope that the harsh winter will end and that warmth will soon arrive to our lives.

Snowdrops also serve to express sympathy, purity, optimism and virtue. It is believed that they’re useful to overcome dejection and despair, and that they can infuse courage and confidence in our minds. It is also said that they’re of assistance to get rid of past pains and sorrows, and that they create opportunities to achieve happiness.

Also, due to its low growth rate and the fact that they tend to grow in graveyards a lot of people hold the belief that they represent death. 

In literature and popular culture it has been used several times as a symbol for spring, purity and religion. Most notably in the german tale “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs”, Snowdrop IS actually the original name for the princess.

What does it represent in BLEACH

Besides being the insignia for the 13th Division and its meaning (hope), due to the symbolism it carries it can be assumed that it holds a strong link in relation to Rukia.

Starting off with the basics and trying not to complicate it too much, this flower is related to winter, to the snow and the color white (its predominant characteristic), all of them easily connected to her own special titles as well as the general theme of her powers.

Her zanpakutô belongs to the ice/snow category and it’s described as the most beautiful in Soul Society with its blade, hilt and guard all of a pure and immaculate white. 

Likewise, she was bestowed with the title of “White Moon” which is visually reinforced during the series, always making an effort to point out the importance of the color white. This is how her close relationship to snow and ice is shown and consequently to the winter, as well to the white color which represents purity, innocence and mourning. 

Snowdrops symbolize the start of something new:

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

#IchiRuki #The Death Saves The Strawberry #The official IchiRuki symbol #The official IchiRuki insignia

[aminiatureworld]

A Slow Flame

Characters: Scaramouche, gn!reader

Word Count: 1,346

Warnings: None

Premise: Love is often like a flame, and sometimes that flame takes a while to catch. Yet it is no less bright when it finally does.

In which Scaramouche slowly falls in love

Author’s Note: Since this was requested as a headcanon I put it in bullet pointed format. Although I haven’t written proper headcanons in years, so this might read very similar to my scenarios. Nevertheless I hope you enjoy.  

When you first came into Scaramouche’s life he could hardly believe in your existence.

Most of the new recruits learned quickly enough to leave the icy Harbinger alone, knew that currying favor was an utterly useless endeavor, and found his personality grating at best. And yet you were insistent on sticking around, or sticking around as much as a lowly soldier could.

First on time to drill, first to get to meals, first to respond to questions and first to inquire after details in return. Scaramouche couldn’t figure you out, brushing you off as a try-hard or as an innocent who would quickly give up and run away. People such as you didn’t exist. They simply disappeared.

And yet you didn’t.

The trust grew slowly. If efficiency was valuable coin in the Tsaritsa’s army, then loyalty was priceless. Scaramouche knew that, could not understand why you would then offer such a thing to him. How could he trust it? It made no sense.

Yet you made no attempt to betray him, no attempt to pawn off information or get some bribe out of him. And slowly, almost unconsciously, he began to rely upon you.

At first he couldn’t see that the line was blurring.

When pressed with the question of your value in his eyes he would brush it off as you simply being the most qualified Fatui member he’d ever worked with. Of course he preferred your company to that of the rest of the lackeys, those fools who tripped over themselves trying to do the simplest of tasks. You were his most loyal soldier. Why shouldn’t he prefer your company?

You, in turn, made no attempt to close the gap that existed between you two. If you loved Scaramouche you did a good job of hiding it. And, of course, no one would ever bring such a topic up otherwise. Anyone who did would surely have a death wish, as Scaramouche would have their clothes singed to black in a second.

Within such an atmosphere perhaps it should’ve been no surprise that he never thought to examine his feelings for you. And yet, just because he didn’t examine them didn’t mean they stopped growing.

His first recognition of his feelings was when you were enlisted in a task headed by one of the lesser generals. Though the operation only lasted three days and you were soon back by his side Scaramouche found those three days surprisingly disarming. He’d grown accustomed to your presence, to the surety that you were always by his side. To be deprived of that felt like a shock to his system.

He even found himself unconsciously calling to you. Turning over his shoulder, expecting your advice, only to be met with the bare wall of his tent. Even the embarrassment of such a mistake couldn’t hide the unease that floated around him those three days.

When you finally returned it was as if Scaramouche had finally set foot on solid ground again.

After that he began to notice you more, as if finally becoming aware of your presence. No longer were you a loyal shadow, something that grew and changed in the light, fleeting and unobtrusive. No, now you were vivid, finally put into color by those days in which you were gone.

The first thing he noticed were your expressions. Before, he hadn’t really registered your gestures, the little habits that all people carry within themselves. Now your expressions hypnotized Scaramouche. The way in which you leaned slightly forward when laughing, the fact that one side of your lips tilted upwards before the other when you smiled, the way your face stilled when you were considering something, with only your eyes revealing the thoughts and considerations going through your mind. These expressions seemed new to Scaramouche and he reveled in them.

He began to wonder if you noticed the same things. Did you ever muse on the way his hands grasped pencils and mugs and papers? Did you also smile at the ways his eyes shined when he was excited – something admittedly rare? Were you suddenly as aware of him as he was of you, or had you not noticed yet? Had you always noticed, and he was the one being slow?

And yet he still didn’t connect it with love.

Then you were called away to Liyue.

Under Dottore’s supervision you were to study ruin guards; how they worked, what purpose they served, all these tasks were now up to you. Scaramouche wasn’t actually sure who had made the decision. He assumed it was the Tsaritsa. Perhaps because if not he would’ve never been able to agree to it.

After that Scaramouche turned colder. Suddenly he didn’t care as much; didn’t care about his subordinates, didn’t care about the infantile missions he’d been sent on. Didn’t care that Signora had already claimed a gnosis, and he was lagging dreadfully behind.

The only thing that had ignited his interest was the knowledge that Childe was now in Liyue, presumably on the same mission as Signora. This did nothing to call him to any sort of action however. Instead it seemed to leave him more drained, more disgusted with the world around him.

When Signora came to visit she couldn’t believe the state the Harbinger was in. Since when had Scaramouche become so inattentive? It was unheard of. And more baffling was the Harbinger himself, who neither knew nor care of his transformation.

Now, unlike Scaramouche, Signora isn’t a total idiot. It took approximately two days of sticking close to the Harbinger to realize what was wrong. And really two days was being generous.

Later it would embarrass Scaramouche to recall the fact that he’d been told he was in love with you, rather than figuring it out himself. At the time however he had no such embarrassment.

He’d initially rejected it, almost appalled by the answer laid at his feet. Yet even as he narrowed his eyes and sharpened his voice his mind betrayed him.

Suddenly things had taken on a new significance, memories that had laid dormant now brought bare. Suddenly a smile wasn’t only a smile, and the trust in your loyalty was no longer a matter of simple reliance. Suddenly he couldn’t stop thinking of your eyes, and suddenly your voice was a prized memory. Suddenly he couldn’t stop his love for you.

Scaramouche had promptly declared that it didn’t matter. Staring at the ground, he felt cynicism wash over him. What did it matter now? What good was there in realizing his feelings when you were already gone? There was no point in labelling it, as love or otherwise. He might as well forget.

Love was a useless emotion anyways. Perhaps it was best that he’d lost his chance for it, perhaps he’d just managed not to become weak.

Signora was incredibly irritated at this line of thinking, and was quick to berate her listless coworker. Nor was she just content in lecturing.

And thus Scaramouche landed himself in the plains of Liyue, eyes lighting up as they fell once more upon your face, heart somehow feeling lighter.

He didn’t want to admit that he loved you, still begrudging himself an emotion that made people weak.

Yet he couldn’t help but reach for your hand when you came up to him, and he couldn’t help but soften a bit at the contact, at the thing he’d secretly wished for all those weeks.

He wouldn’t tell you his true motive for traveling to Liyue and Mondstadt, not wanting to reveal his shame. He would speak only of his mission, to chase down a traveler and rid the Tsaritsa of a nuisance.

Yet sometimes, when the light was low and the stars were rising, he allowed himself a moment of honesty. I trust you, he’d whisper in his mind. I trust you, I trust you, I trust only you.

Perhaps one day he’d been able to change that trust to love. And perhaps one day the whisper in his mind would become words that passed his lips.

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #headcanons #requested #my writing

[howdyhowdyyalls]

Where One Story Should End, Another Begins

Okay y’all strap in, my first actual series (instead of just one shots lol) has only been on Wattpad so far but I’m bringing her to Tumblr. Anyone who knows me knows I’m a psych major with my own mental health struggles and Wade Wilson as a comfort character so what the hell, here’s a Wade x reader series with some emotional bits haha. 

Here’s the Wattpad description: You never knew how lost a person could be until you found yourself hanging from the edge of a high-rise building; you also never knew how much life could change from the introduction of a single man. From the day you met on the roof of that building, there has been a connection between you and Wade Wilson. A relationship consisting of a lot of confusion, some anger, and maybe even love. 

Sidenote, several chapters are already out on Wattpad but I think I’ll space out the posts on Tumblr lol, but here’s chapter one! Also, Wade’s personality and healing factor here is based more on the original comic character than the movie interpretation (Meaning he’s slightly less vulgar and feels the full pain of his injuries. They still heal, but he also still feels all the pain until they do. Also, I love Ryan Reynolds’s interpretation, I’m just sticking more to the comics for these purposes.)

 I really hope people will take the time to read this and let me know what you think

Warnings (These will be chapter by chapter, not for the whole series): suicide, depression, swearing, blood mention

Word Count: 2,076

Fuck this. You'd had enough.

As you walked down the street to the highest building in the blocks surrounding your apartment, there was no doubt in your mind that this was the right thing to do. You'd put up with too much pain for too long and you were ready to make it stop once and for all. You'd thought this through very well. You knew what you were about to do, and you were ready. So, you entered the building (a hotel, you believed) and took the elevator up as high as it would go. Your hands were shaking as the pads of your fingers clamored for the cold buttons, but now was not the time to get cold feet.

You had to do this.

The elevator opened on the roof of the building, which served as a nice patio for hotel residents to relax on. Ironic, you thought, that you'd be flinging yourself to your death from a resort that was designed to be a place of relaxation and calmness. Regardless, you pressed on to the railing of the building, looking down at the massive drop before you.

26 stories- enough to kill anyone. It was even more intimidating in person than you imagined, but as you looked down the treacherous drop to the alley below, you waited in vain for the sense of terror that you'd been expecting. This view was enough to scare the living hell out of anyone; perhaps more worrying than the drop itself was the fact that it didn't scare you. Instead, a bizarre sense of peace came over you. Soon, the pain would be gone. Just the thought of that was inviting enough for you to firmly grip the railing and carefully swing your legs over so that you were now on the opposite side, clinging on to the building by just  a few thin bars. You stood there for a moment, gathering your thoughts as you willed your breathing to steady. 

You were ready.

"You don't want to do that."

The voice from behind you startled you so much that you almost fell off on accident. You were careful to quickly replace the look of surprise on your face with one of annoyance. With your hands still tightly on the railing, you slightly turned to glance out of the corner of your eye to see who the hell would also happen to be on the roof of a 26 story building at 2:30 AM. Once you caught sight of the figure though, you turned more fully to take a second look. You could make out the silhouette of a person sitting in the dark corner of the roof patio; you hadn't noticed him earlier because he was sitting just behind the door you'd come from. The stranger was entirely disguised by a red suit with black accents, and judging by the voice and body shape, a man. His suit was designed such that you couldn't see a single bit of skin, including his face- the eyes on the mask were completely whited out, giving him an eerie appearance. Your eyes trailed down from the mask to the rest of him to notice... weapons? Fuck, now that you looked closely, there were at least two pistols on him, and you could see what appeared to be the hilt of a knife poking out of the top of his boots.

"I really need to find a better way of entering a conversation, don't I? Been trying to think of a catchphrase, haven't come up with anything yet," he babbled; you weren't even sure if he was talking to himself or to you.

"...What? Who... who do you think you are, telling me what I want? Just- Never mind. Leave me alone," You snapped. You hadn't planned to even talk to the man, but you also hadn't expected him to make such a silly comment, given the situation. It caught you off guard a bit, so you turned from him to focus on the task at hand. This weirdo was not going to ruin this for you.

"Ouch. Just tryin' to help." He sounded strangely calm and unbothered by the fact that you were literally hanging off the edge of a building, poised to jump- he spoke with the ease of someone making small talk at a bus stop.

"Just FYI, that thing they say about dying from falling being painless is total bullshit. You don't faint in the air, and even though you die on impact with the ground, you still feel all the pain in the world, just for a second. Trust me, it's the worst." He said this with a slightly more earnest tone than anything else thus far, but his nonchalant vibe didn't falter. Even though you couldn't see him, you could still hear him moving behind you, even over the chaotic orchestra of city sounds below you. From his footsteps, you could tell he was standing now and walking around, likely towards you.

"What... what the hell are you talking about?" You finally caved and inquired more of his seemingly deranged mumbling.

"Take it from me, it's not a good way to go," he stated matter of factly. This earned him another glance from you, which he noticed and he returned the stare to you, now standing several meters away. At least... you think he was looking at you. It was dark, and with the mask you couldn't see his eyes whatsoever.

"I don't know who the hell you are, but clearly you're insane. Just fuck off, okay? Leave me alone," you barked at him, desperately wishing this maniac to leave so you could just do what you came to do and die in peace. Though... the longer you stood there listening to him ramble, the more you were able to take in your surroundings. The tears had slowly stopped, likely because you simply had no more to cry. Now with a slightly more clear head, you were able to take in the true height at which you clung to the railing. The breeze threatening to pluck you from the structure was somehow both inviting and terrifying. You'd thought this through well, you had everything sorted out so that you can finally die and die in peace... but the stranger's words lingered in your head. What if it did hurt...

You were very abruptly ripped from your thoughts at the realization that the man was now standing a mere few feet from you, leaning against the railing you clung to, just on the opposite side.

"Jesus! Didn't you hear me? I said to fuck off!" you snapped even more sharply this time, willing anger to hide your fear from this whack job who had no right to be here in the first place. You'd thought through and planned for many things surrounding your suicide, but this certainly was not one of them. 

"Yeah, I heard you. Just 'cause I heard you doesn't mean I have to listen. Same for you. You can completely ignore me and jump if you want. But I'm kinda sensing there's a reason you haven't let go yet..." He mumbled. A wave of emotions came over you at his words. First confusion, then anger at him for barging into your affairs and presuming to know anything about anything.

"Because you're freaking me out. Don't make me say it again- fuck. off." You hissed. Weird... even though he still wore a mask and you couldn't make out even the slightest expression on his face, his silence carried a strange somberness to it, making you feel just the slightest twinge of guilt, so you very quietly added, "Please. I've had enough.. not just with you, with everything. I've thought this out well. I know what I'm doing. I know this is what needs to be done. Just, please, leave me be." The man seemed to be able to hear the cracks in your voice, much like the cracks in a dam, sealing away an ocean of emotion and pain that you fought so desperately to hold back. You were doing this so as to rid others of the burden you put on them. This man- whoever this bizarre stranger was- didn't need or deserve to be burdened by you either. When he still didn't respond, you looked up at him; after only several minutes of conversing, you could already infer that silence was uncommon with this one and that it must mean he is actually thinking. You also noticed that he'd shifted a bit closer to you now, close enough that you might be able to reach out and touch him.

"Yeah, but I'm here now. And I know it might've sounded like a joke, but I was serious when I said I knew what it felt like. Physically and emotionally. I've been through this whole shit show before but from your side, except there was no one there to try and stop me. Not that it would've worked anyways. I know what it's like to feel like there's no other option. I know I can't stop you, too. All I can do is tell you what I know, and that is that you're about to make a huge mistake. Come back over here with me and let's talk about this, preferably when you aren't quite literally clinging to life."

You hesitated for a moment, but soon frustration boiled within you again, angry with yourself this time for even considering his offer. When you didn't respond, he continued to speak.

"Well, if you won't join me-" he began, firmly holding the railing and swinging his legs over to your side, "then I guess I'll join you," he grinned, making you realize just how much of a madman he must be.

"What the hell are you doing?! Get back, leave me alone!" You screamed at him this time, your entire body trembling from adrenaline. Anywhere else, you'd probably have shoved the freak, but now definitely wasn't the time. He just looked out at the skyscrapers surrounding you, then his gaze landed on you once more.

"Beautiful out, isn't it?" He gestured broadly to the city skyline with one hand, but when his hand was towards you, he very suddenly snatched your wrist with an iron grip, tethering you to him and to the building and earning a gasp from you.

"What the fuck?! HELP! Someone-" You panicked now. Suicide seemed like an okay option when you were the one in control, but now that your life was in the hands of this stranger, fear flooded your body. You wanted to try and pry his hand off of you but if you let go with your other hand to do so, you really would fall.

"No one can hear us up here, sweetheart. I didn't want to have to do this but I'm not letting you die on my watch. Will you please come back over the railing with me? I'm asking ever so politely." You honestly couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but it was now or never. You turned your head to face him and tried to apologize, but your voice was too weak and no words came out. Instead, you mouthed the words 'I'm sorry' with tears in your eyes as you took a deep breath and let go with both hands.

What happened next was almost incomprehensible, and it happened so fast that you didn't even know what happened at first. When you should've been falling to your death, you felt an arm wrap around your waist and lift you hard, throwing you over the railing back onto the patio with a painful thud against the concrete. As you looked up, you realized with absolute horror that the man was no longer there- he must've lost his balance and fallen in an effort to save you. You scrambled to your feet as fast as you could and dashed over the the edge of the building, terrified to look down but you knew you had to. His death was on you now.

However, what you saw when you glanced down was somehow even more heart-stopping than the knowledge that he fell.

The man was a crippled mess, laying in a massive pool of blood. What made you dizzy though is what happened next.

He had plummeted twenty-six stories to the ground.

And he waved back up to you. 

#marvel #fanfic #fanfiction #wade wilson #smut #fluff #angst #depression #suicide #tw #writing #deadpool #dead pool #x reader #wade wilson x reader #deadpool x reader #romance #friendship

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Vice and Virtue in Tolkien’s Works

I’ve been rereading Dante’s Purgatorio (easily my favourite of the three sections, both for having a very satisfying structure and for its themes of repentance and reform), and the structure inspired this post. Each level of purgatory has images, words, or both, associated with the vice being reformed and its corresponding virtue (the examples being drawn both from the Bible and Greco-Roman history and mythology) and it gave me ideas for a discussion of similar themes in Tolkien’s works.

The structure is: 1) Pride/Humility; 2) Envy/Generosity of Spirit; 3) Wrath/Charity; 4) Sloth/Zeal); 5) Avarice/Simplicity; 6) Gluttony/Abstinence; 7) Lust/Romantic Love.

1) Pride/Humility

Saruman: Our time is at hand: the world of Men, which we must rule. But we must have power, power to order all things as we will, for that good which only the Wise can see.

Frodo: I will take the Ring, though I do not know the way.

This is easily the primary emphasis in Tolkien’s works. The fall of all his main villains (Morgoth, Sauron, Fëanor, the Númenoreans, Saruman) and as well as other non-villainous tragic characters (Túrin, Thingol, Turgon, Thorin, Denethor) is characterized by pride - the desire to be the one calling the shots, the desire for greatness and others’ recognition of that greatness, the refusal to listen to the advice or views of others.

It’s there in Melkor’s desire for his theme to be the only one heard in the Music; in Sauron’s desire to rule the world and arrange everything as he thinks best; in Fëanor’s determination to take any advice, correction, or disagreement as a personal attack, his desire for rulership in Middle-earth, and his attitude that the Silmarils are more important than anything anyone else has done or created; the late-stage Númenoreans’ campaign of imperialist conquest. It’s there in Túrin’s, Thingol’s, and Turgon’s rejection of good advice; in Thingol’s attitude towards other peoples, whether it’s Beren or the dwarves; in Denethor’s conviction that Gondor is the only place and people of any account in the war against Sauron.

Humility, in contrast, is mainly seen in the form of hobbits. None of them have any idea what they’re doing when they leave Rivendell (Sam and Pippin don’t even know where Mordor is), and they know they’ve got no idea. They’re not going because they see themselves as specially skilled or qualified, but because it needs to be done. And that’s the very reason Frodo can resist the Ring so long, and Sam can resist it, because they don’t have any grand ideas of themselves.

The ability to say I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’ll try to do what’s right is pretty crucial to humility; even members of the Fellowship who are far more experienced, skilled and knowledgeable than the hobbits show it. Aragorn says it, in the search for Merry and Pippin when they’re captured by orcs. Pride could easily say I need to go with the Ring-bearer, that’s the most important task or I need to go to Gondor and lead the war against Sauron as their King. But Aragorn lets himself trust in other people doing their parts, and focuses on rescuing his companions - the thing that no one else is a available to do - even as the chase seems increasingly hopeless. It’s also seen in Gandalf, who openly admitted he was scared to go when the Valar first sent him, and wandered around as an old man in a battered cloak and hat, talking with everyone, rather than setting himself up as a Respectable Dignified Authority Figure the way Saruman did.

The Silmarillion has fewer examples of humility than LOTR (perhaps why things turn out so much worse there) but there are a few in the Leithian. Lúthien is another case of saying I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’ll do it because no one else will when she sets off to rescue Beren. Finrod walks away from his crown and realm to help a friend.

2) Envy/Generosity of Spirit

Denethor: I will not step down to be the dotatd chamberlain of an upstart.

Faramir: My lord, you called me. I come. What does the king command?

Envy is akin to pride, but I’m characterizing it as being specifically the resentment of being surpassed (or even equalled) by another.

Fëanor is again a major example of this, specifically in his resentment of Fingolfin and of the descendents of Indis more generally. Peoples of Middle-earth notes that he resented the name Nolofinwë (Fingolfin’s Quenya name, roughly means ‘wise-Finwë or ‘learned-Finwë’) due to regarding himself as not only the most skilled of the Noldor at craftwork (which he was), but also the most skilled at lore/scholarship (which he wasn’t), and likewise resented the name Arafinwë (Finarfin’s Quenya name). He’s in a mental place of resenting anything positive that can be said about his brothers as if it inherently detracts from him. And he takes the same attitude towards Men (‘No other race shall oust us!’), treating their very existence as a threat to the Eldar. Losgar is the peak of this: he’s willing to sabotage his own war effort to prevent Fingolfin from participating. This is contasted with Maedhros’ attitude after being rescued by Fingon, when he willingly gives up the crown and, later, moves across Beleriand to the most exposed section of the northern border to avoid conflict. His own status isn’t his priority; peace with his family and the best interests of the war against Morgoth are his priorities.

Denethor is another major example, seeing both Aragorn’s return and Faramir’s respect for Gandalf as personal affronts to himself. (Gandalf points out that the literal job description of a steward is to be in charge until the king returns. When the king comes back, that means you’ve done your job, not that you’re being demoted. Denethor is not interested in hearing this.) He’s also mentioned in the Appendices to have resented the respect and admiration recieved by Thorongil [i.e. Aragorn in disguise] during the days of their youth. In very similar ways, Saruman resented the high regard that some (like Galadriel) had for Gandalf, and saw Gandalf as a rival. Thorongil and Gandalf were not interested in rivalry; they were more interested in what was achieved than in who was achieving it. Faramir is the contrast here - he is interested in the good of Gondor, not his own status, and has no jealousy of Aragorn.

3. Wrath/Charity

Fëanor: See, half-brother! This is sharper than thy tongue. Try but once more to usurp my place and the love of my father, and maybe it will rid the Noldor of one who seeks to be the master of thralls.

Gandalf: It was Pity that stayed Bilbo’s hand; Pity, and Mercy, not to strike without need.

I would say that this is the third-most-emphasized of the vices in Tolkien’s works, after pride and avarice. And, of course, another Fëanor example: both his threat on Fingolfin’s life and his actions during the Return of the Noldor, the latter being driven by wrath primarily against Morgoth and secondarily against everyone else in his vicinity (Valar! Teleri! Fingolfin and anyone who supports him!). It’s the spillover that’s the problem, and the self-centredness; hating Morgoth isn’t a problem in and of itself, but Fëanor’s taking the fight against evil and turning it into a personal vendetta, with disastrous consequences.

Túrin is another example, most particularly in three events: causing the death of Saeros, burning the hall of Brodda in Dor-lómin, and killing Brandir. The former two are provoked, the latter isn’t, but all of them are sudden deeds of anger that only serve to make matters worse.

The contrasting virtue is charity, mercy shown to people that you have good reason to be hostile towards. Fingon’s rescue of Maedhros. Lúthien’s sparing of Curufin when he and Celegorm attacked her and Beren. Frodo sparing Gollum and treating him with kindness and compassion.

4. Sloth/Zeal

Guard Hobbit: It won’t do no good talking that way. He’ll get to hear of it. And if you make so much noise, you’ll wake the Chief’s Big Man.

Merry: Shire-folk have been so comfortable so long they don’t know what to do. They just want a match, though, and they’ll go up in fire.

This is comparatively less of an emphasis in Tolkien’s works than some of the other pairings, but I can think of some examples. The best one is Saruman’s takeover of the Shire and the subsequent liberation. Sloth is the characteristic hobbit vice (not gluttony; I’ll get to that); they tend towards being comfortable and complacent and don’t like being bestirred. Even Frodo dawdled around for half a year after learning about the Ring, mostly because he was reluctant to go. And under first Lotho and then Saruman, everyone (except Tooks) more or less puts up with an abuses because they don’t want the trouble or danger of standing up against them. It’s the return of Merry, Pippin, Sam, and Frodo, who have experience fighting evil on a much larger scale (and who can organize things) that spurs them to stand up for themselves and their home.

5. Avarice/Simplicity

Celegorm: For the Silmarils we alone claim, until the world ends.

Gandalf: I wonder what has become of [the mithril-shirt]? Gathering dust still in Michel Delving Mathom-house, I suppose.

Avarice is, I would say, the second-most-emphasized vice in Tolkien’s works, after pride. The central conflicts in both The Silmarillion and The Lord of the Rings are objects (they’re in the titles!): the Silmarils and the Ring. The Oath is almost the strongest possible expression of avarice, the most extreme statement of this is mine that a person can make; The Ring is an even more extreme expression, as Sauron makes an object that is literally part of himself. And both conflicts are resolved through the renunciation of claim on these objects, in Eärendil’s journey to Valinor (and the Silmaril becoming a star that is seen by everyone and owned by no one) and Frodo and Sam’s mission to destroy the Ring.

The Silmarils themselves are not evil; they are good and hallowed objects, and fights between elves, dwarves, and men are the result of the Oath (the kinslayings) and the connection with the dragon-contaminated and Mîm-cursed treasure of Nargothrond (Thingol and the dwarves of Nogrod). The Ring is evil, and inducing avarice is its most basic power, even among people like Sméagol and Déagol who could never actually wield it; letting it go is incredibly difficult, and Bilbo and Sam are the only people in the history of the Ring ever to do it.

Avarice is also a central theme in The Hobbit, and dragon-treasure is specifically noted as provoking avarice in people who are in any way inclined towards that vice. Smaug is practically a physical manifestation of avarice in his rage over losing one small cup that he has no use for from an immense hoard, and both Thorin and the master of Lake-town fall prey to the dragon-sickness.

I’ve given ‘simplicity’ as the antonym, and I thought of ‘generosity’ as well, but neither of those is quite right. The opposite of avarice is holding lightly to things, and it’s a particular virtue of hobbits. This is seen both in their birthday parties (the tradition of giving away possessions) and the Michel Delving Mathom-house, a museum for old heirlooms that people feel they don’t need to have around. The most beautiful example is Bilbo’s mithril-shirt (worth more than the entire Shire!) spending some time sitting around there.

It’s worth nothing that the vice of avarice in Tolkien’s works isn’t associated with having stuff, just with holding to stuff. Bag End being comfortable isn’t a problem. The Noldor having piles of jewels isn’t a problem provided that they’re sharing them and letting them go, as in the Noontide of Valinor (gemstones scattered on the seashore!) or Finrod giving them away in Middle-earth. The issue comes when the owning becomes what a person values; the signal that Fëanor is becoming too tied to the Silmarils is when he prefers to lock them away so no one else can see them.

6. Gluttony/Abstinence

Gollum: He’ll eat us all, if he gets it, eat all the world!

The lembas had a virtue without which they would long ago have laid down to die. It did not satisfy desire...and yet this waybread of the Elves had a potency that increased as travellers relied on it alone and did not mingle it with other foods. It fed the will, and gave strength to endure...

Gluttony is distinguished from avarice as the desire to consume things, not merely accumulate them. This is an interesting one, because Tolkien has no issue with the consuption of large amounts of food for enjoyment (which hobbits do frequently and enthusiastically!). As with possessions, enjoyment of physical things isn’t seen as problematic. The enjoyment of everyday pleasures is specifically discussed as morally desirable in a way that contrasts with avaricious accumulation (“If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.”)

However, there is one large (very, very large) example of the concept of gluttony as unlimited consumption and appetite: Ungoliant. Ungoliant represents not the hoarding of things, but their destruction, and is continually described with very physical terms of appetite and devouring. Shelob and the spiders of Mirkwood are lesser versions of the same concept. There are other mosters in the same vein: Sauron’s werewolves and Carcharoth. On of the names for Carcharoth is Anfauglir, the Jaws of Thirst, specifically invoking the idea of insatiable consumption.

And gluttony can be described more broadly as an form of overconsumption which uses up or destroys things; pollution could be a modern-day example. Looked at in that way, gluttony can be considered the end-stage of all evil in Tolkien, in the same way that pride is its beginning-stage. The ruin of the Anfauglith, the Desolation of the Morannon, the trees of Fangorn used to feed the fires of Isengard or hacked down for no purpose (and even Losgar, if you like) are all its work. Gollum (heavily driven by mundane hunger) grasps this when he fears Sauron regaining the Ring: “He’ll eat us all, if he gets it, eat all the world!” Ungoliant is the final stage of all evil.

In the same way that hobbits enjoying ample meals isn’t treated as a moral flaw, abstinence isn’t particularly notable as a virtue. However, it does come up in forms like Sam noting that lembas provides more endurance as the hobbits rely on it solely in their final journey to Mordor. This indicates that Tolkien regards the ability to go without physical pleasures when necessary as a virtue (also symbolized by Sam’s heartrending decision to give up his cooking gear!) but doesn’t place value on ascetism for its own sake.

If we want to expand on the metaphorical idea of gluttony as overconsumption/destruction, then we can also see healing/restoration as its opposing virtue, in forms like the box of soil that Galadriel gives Sam, which he uses to restore the trees of the Shire.

7. Lust/Romantic Love

Celegorm became enamoured of [Lúthien]...they purposed to let the King perish, and to keep Lúthien, and force Thingol to give her hand to Celegorm.

Beren: Though all to ruin fell the world, and were dissolved and backward hurled, unmade into the old abyss, yet were its making good, for this - the dusk, the dawn, the earth, the sea - that Lúthien for a time should be.

Lust is often regarded simply as a term for physical attraction, and its condemnation as a type of prudishness, but I’m going to present a different take, one that draws on its connection with the two preceding vices (the three are consistently grouped together by Dante). Lust is when the two previous desires, of ownership and consumption/use, are applied not to objects but to a person.

It’s an extremely rare vice among elves, with only a few examples in Elvish history: Celegorm, Eöl, Maeglin. In all cases, there is sexual desire combined with the desire for control, turning to violence when that control is thwarted: Celegorm’s imprisonment of Lúthien in the attempt to force her to marry him, and the later assault on her and Beren; Eöl’s restrictions on Aredhel and murder of her when she leaves him; Maeglin’s attempt to kidnap Idril during the Fall of Gondolin.

In contrast, the examples of romantic love, which are primarily the elf-human couples and especially Beren and Lúthien, combine desire with value for the freedom and identity of the beloved, and with self-sacrifice (or willingness to take on risks) for their sake. Beren’s song before setting out for Angband is a celebration of Lúthien’s existence, irrespective of what may happen to him. Lúthien counters with the expression that she does not want to exist apart from him, and purpose of lovers is to act together and to guard and support each other. Elwing runs through the waves to Eärendil on the shores of Valinor because she would rather face the same risks he does than be safe apart from him. Eärendil accepts immortality for love of Elwing. Arwen accepts death for love of Aragorn.

#tolkien #the silmarillion #the lord of the rings #christianity #ethics #moral philosophy #fëanor #frodo #gandalf #sauron #beren #lúthien #ëarendil #elwing #celegorm #sam gamgee #denethor #faramir #saruman

[czechforrain]

Critical Role Episode 103: Are the Mighty Nein Gutless Cowards? The differences between them and the more Brash Vox Machina.

So we have just came off another episode where the mighty nein spent a lot of time deliberating and possibly trying to delay their fight with Vokodo. Trying to stack the deck as much as possible and get 3 tribal guardians, a few werebears and even a lesser diety to fight alongside them while also finding out if there was any weaknesses or exploitable backsides to this supposed god. 

And of course this leads to the same recurring topics being brought up again.

“The mighty nein are cowards.”

“ They try to run away from fights whenever possible.”

“They underestimate the hell out of themselves.”

“They draw out conflicts as long as possible going over several plans instead of making decisive moves and sticking towards them.” 

And the common reasoning for their super cautious play-style is the death of Mollymauk Tealeaf. After Fjord, Jester and Yasha got captured by the Iron Shepards, the rest of the Mighty Nein set out to ambush the party and this ended in disaster. Matt gave them several hints that this battle would be a lot tougher than they first thought but everyone was 100% in on ambush and combined with some less than stellar tactical decisions and bad rolls, we had our first campaign death 26 Chapters into the campaign. 

And then again in Episode 69 we had the Mighty Nein defeat Obann but after he died, the laughing hand did a number on everybody and fjord almost died after being grabbed by the laughing hand and everyone was beat to complete crap. 

Now these factors absolutely play a part on team morale and it informs their decisions to be more careful but I’d argue the real difference between the campaign so far is stakes. More specifically the consequences of running and hiding vs standing and fighting. 

THE STAKES

In comparison to Vox Machina, the mighty nein are less traditional heroes. Since the start of the campaign they balanced a decent relationship with the Authorities and Power structures with being involved in illegal practices such as helping the knights of requital to elevate one of their leaders to public office, working for a crime boss, providing Vigilante Justice and later stealing a boat and becoming pirates. Then after starting their quest to save Nott’s Husband they switched that balancing act to a more traditional play both sides mentality. The only difference of course being that there endgame was altruistic. They wanted to stop a war and they had to convince each side that they wanted something mutually beneficial while not appearing too friendly to the other side. 

Compare this to Vox Machina’s Four Major Arcs

K’varn

Threat: The influence of an ancient artifact is starting to get closer to reaching the surface and if unchecked could lead to major problems for the city. 

Personal: Beloved NPC Allura Vysoren’s friend (at the time) has basically been taken captive and they need to save her before she dies and she won’t go back until her dream quest journey is complete. 

Briarwoods

Threat: The Briarwoods sent gaseous assassins to kill their hostage chauffeur revealing that their influence could still reach the M9.  King Uriel had placed them under house arrest / city arrest while under investigation and their freedom was curtailed until they remove the charm on him by presumably killing the briarwoods.

Personal: The villains killed Percy’s family and took control of is city and home. Percy’s family is hinted to be alive in some manner and the reputation of the team is tarnished.

Chroma Conclave

Threat: Four Ancient Dragons controlling the continent of Tal’dorei and crushing anyone who would dare to threaten their newly seized dominion. Their current home is in the backyard of the leader of this conclave and their friend’s newly liberated hometown is also under threat. 

Personal: The head of the villains killed Vax and Vex’s parents. Tiberious was later killed by the threat and the instrumental figure in crafting the alliance betrayed and caused the death of many of the Fire Ashari.

Vecna

Threat: An old mage from the days of the age of Arcanum is planning to complete a seeding ritual to make himself a god and take over the world. 

Personal: Scanlan implores them that this is a very important quest and essentially returns for this reason. Lady Briarwood is serving the Whispered one which puts all of VM at unease. Vecna personally disintegrates one of Vox Machina. 

These arcs, along with Keyleth’s overall quest being something that she had to face despite her constant self doubts and idealism anxiety, were stuff that Vox Machina couldn’t run from. They couldn’t ignore the issues because the threats were present, personal and there were negative consequences to ignoring the call to action. 

Now compare that to the Mighty Nein who exist in a grayer campaign where the right path isn’t always easily identifiable and every action might have negative and positive consequences. 

And paralleling their journey it’s easy to see the differences.

Episodes 1-33

Episode 1-4 had them as complete strangers mainly fighting Kyrie, the devil toad to prove their innocence after the circus gets blamed for the results of the show. Then they take a job to rescue missing townsfolk from gnollish marauders. Once they arrive in Zadash, they sympathize with the Knights of Requital who desperately wants to replace High-Richter Prucine with their leader Dolan and they offer to help for some coin but the entire plan was supposed to be a series of heists, only turning violent when said the High-Richter returned and Ulog in a moment of rage killed himself and her in one go. 

They then end up whilst trying to get heat off themselves for the murder working for the gentleman who gives them tasks which he promises a healthy amount of coin for that mainly involve getting rid of monsters that are getting in the way of his business and also removing a gang / providing safe passage for one of his associates. Then unexpectedly Molly dies, and the group mentions running would be the smart thing to do but because Fjord, Jester and Yasha are still enslaved the group presses on with a strong resolve to save their missing comrades and avenge molly. 

Episodes 34-49

After this they take a trip to Jester’s hometown and they help her mom out by attacking and mutilating a customer of hers who is acting abusive and controlling in regards to his companionship with her. They end up stealing a boat because they’re not sure how to explain what happened to the guards because they essentially got into a fight for no reason. 

They sail around on fjord’s quest with Avantika for a while despite being quite unnerved by her fanaticism and her end goal to free Uka’Toa. They try to get dirt on her in which to frame her and succeed but her companion has locate object and just before the mighty nein are exposed Caleb recognizes this is a crucial moment and launches the first attack. 

They do run against a young blue dragon but it’s a situation where they all don’t have any need to beat the blue dragon and are just trying to get out. But regardless this is the first winnable encounter they actually end up running from.

Now it’s not unusual up until this point but so far most of their encounters have been quests, stuff that they are paid to get rid of, they’re told about this thing and they kill it for the most part. They’ve felt pretty generally confident about whatever springs up

Episodes 50-87

Now once we get into the Angel’s Irons section things start to change. They go into Xhorhas close up the portal and retrieve evidence to earn a favor from the bright queen before that turns into them being closely watched heroes. They smartly negotiate a truce with the giants instead of wiping them out as they were originally paid to do and free their home of the demonic incursions. They fight Obann the first time and chase after him as they try to get to the bottom of this portals business and eventually things end in heartbreaking failure. 

This kicks off to the Ancient White Dragon Iceflex heist. In this situation them not running would be catastrophic and  it’s completely understandable that they ran. However this episode did get some criticism because they had a long repeating running gag with Yeti’s undercover business that led to about an hour of planning and really slowed down the pace. 

Then a few episodes later they scry on yasha and receive knowledge that she is going to the Lotusden Greenwood to find the heart of the inevitable end. After a stroke of luck with charm person where they take the hand out of the situation they sneak up on Obann and fail at stopping him with Nott’s mage hand. This reluctance to fight here seemed a bit off to people because they already killed Obann but it’s understandable if they didnt want to engage directly though this could be classified as a winnable fight if they played their cards right. There was a hostile tree but incite greed kind of removed it from the fight vs Obann.

We then go to the Happy Fun Ball where a Golem like entity essentially hunts them through many rooms until they get to a point where they can no longer run from it and use machinery in the workshop to help destroy the thing. They probably could have kept running but the continuance of this threat eventually got them so annoyed that they chose to fight it then and there. 

Then we get the whole round 3 vs Obann where to save Yasha, there is no way that they can run away from this fight. When the fight in the cathedral ended, even if the MIX felt fine leaving him alone, Nott got charmed into following them beneath to act as a vessel to break the seal. That and obviously they wanted to give this creep who messed with Yasha what was coming to him and prevent his shenanigans from returning to cause them trouble. 

Episodes 88+

The cupcake moment was brilliant and an excellent subversion of a Hag Fight. Jester bet on herself and for the time being it worked out masterfully giving Veth a free out of her curse. 

Similiarly with Caduceus’ Family they couldn’t just leave the gorgon roam free and not revive his family when they had the chance so they stood their ground and fought it. 

Contrast this with the Dragon Turtle encounter where it’s a threat to them sure but they’re under no obligation to defeat it. Why fight for no good reason and risk death when you can just turn it into a sea slug and bounce?

Why fight Vokodo now when they can greater restoration each other and bring more allies and possibly even the traveler himself to their side? 

The main reason why the Mighty Nein have constantly ran from encounters is that there hasn’t been enough reason for them to stay and fight. When there is a reason they are pretty cautious to not go in under-prepared and thus have moments where they over plan. 

A possible problem that can come from this risk averse approach though just made itself clear in this last episode though. There ship was destroyed because they didn’t defeat the turtle or keep the ship hidden away or sailing where the turtle couldn’t reach it. 

Because they didn’t go straight at Vokodo, either the first time or at a later day from the jump where they had a solid plan they are gonna be down spell slots if they do indeed end up not reaching caduceus in time. If they do end up reaching him in time that might mean they have to burn even more spells and will have to try again some other time. Despite there existing some benefits to playing it safe, there are also negatives and I feel like Matt has been stressing that more and more lately

Vox Machina couldn’t afford to rest when it came to the Briarwoods or the Chroma Conclave and I think if the MIX were in a similiar situation they would also step u to the plate it’s just so far they’ve been generally fine with avoiding dangerous situations when possible but it looks like things may be changing in the future. And when people they care about or places they care about are threatened by such outside sources I think we’ll see a lot of the same gumption from the MIX as we did with Vox Machina. It’s just based on there start as a secret grungy kind of illegal group that preferred to stay out of the limelight and experiences with rushing into trouble that it’s taken them longer then Vox Machina to get to this place.

TLDR; I wouldnt say they are cowards but their experiences when combined with lower stakes if they bail out of fights means that unless they feel like they cannot run away due to personal connections or a sense of duty, they probably will run if the threat looks somewhat fierce. That has helped them some risks but it also can possibly lead to more in the future. But I do feel that the story is moving towards a place where they are gonna have reasons to stand firm and fight and become heroes in their own special way.

#this is the longest post ive ever done #dont let it flop #critical role #critical role spoilers #Vox Machina #the mighty nein #caleb widowgast #jester lavorre #beauregard lionet #fjord stone #CADUCEUS CLAY #yasha nyoordin #veth brenatto #c2e103 #cr c2e103 #percy de rolo #vexhalia #grog strongjaw #scanlan shorthalt #Keyleth #vaxildan #pike #taryon darrington #cr meta #cr analysis

[commander2794]

It’s all over

@firstofficerwiggles, My piece for the Clone Wars Victory Ball AU event.

mostly fluff, OC Clones and their OC Jedi.

Drift moved away from the crowds to lean against the wall and take a moment. The war was finally over. They’d won and he and all his brothers had been invited to this ball so that they could be shown off. He still didn’t believe that they were being appreciated for themselves by senators. But maybe time would make him believe. This party was too fancy, he’d been to a few fancy parties, ordered to attend fundraisers to be shown off and bragged about as one of the Republic's prize weapons. To try and encourage donations to the senator hosting the event. But he’d never gotten to really be part of the party and he felt so uncomfortable. This sort of event was not what he was used to. The war still weighed heavy on his mind and the future as well. The chancellor being a separatist was still making his head spin even now. How had everyone missed that? Even the Jedi, for everything they knew, they could sense, had missed it. 

Breeze passed by with a civilian on his arm and winked at him. He had to smile. It was admittedly nice to see his vode relaxing. They wouldn’t have to go to war again. They could finally learn to live like regular people. They wouldn’t die, forgotten on some battlefield. They’d get to live and meet people and do things. There was even a rumor that several Jedi were helping to craft a clone rights bill to get them all citizenship. His Jedi had whispered that there’d been a bit of an argument through the temple on which Jedi got to work on it. 

His Jedi, there was the topic that was still weighing on his mind. It had been one thing when they were general and commander and they were in the field all the time and the galaxy was at war. But now he got to add other things besides war to his life. Kyiari would return to the temple and to her life as a Jedi. Would he get to see her? Would she even want him anymore, now that they weren’t facing life and death every day? He didn’t know and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He’d admitted he loved her long ago and he firmly believed that he would love her until something finally killed him. 

He wasn’t sure what life would look like now. But he hoped that everything would work out. The Jedi didn’t seem inclined to simply abandon them to figure out a galaxy that they quite literally hadn’t been created to ‘live’ in, alone. They were meant to die for it, not be part of it. And those damn chips. He reached his hand up and felt the small scar on his head again, just like he’d been doing since the thing was removed. The thought that someone could have used him, could have overrode his own will and forced him to hurt his Jedi, his Kyiari, the thought still chilled him. And that someone could have controlled his vode, that made him furious. He wasn’t usually one to be anxious about the future, but he couldn’t help it now. So much had happened and so much seemed uncertain. 

Another vod passing near drew his attention. This time it was Aspect. He was actually dancing. Aspect, who had always refused any opportunity to dance, even at 79’s, was dancing. Of course, it had a lot to do with his partner though, that much Drift was sure of. The Jedi healer, Elsie, who’d been brought into their legion as a field medic. They’d been spending time together since Elsie started coming around and Drift had been sure they were together. Seeing them now, together and how happy Aspect looked. He had no doubts. He wouldn’t push the medic to talk. He was just happy that his brothers were getting a chance to celebrate together. Not just the 727 and the RRL. But all of them, the entire GAR. 

He wasn’t surprised when a hand landed hard on each shoulder. He’d seen his boys trying to sneak up on him. Staying aware of his surroundings was a survival habit. He would likely never be rid of the ability. Checkmate stood on his left, likely having been next to Breeze, they were practically inseparable and always had been. Feedback was on his right and probably either on his way to Breeze and Checkmate or to the table full of food. Both of them had big grins and were simply staring at him. “What?” They didn’t bother to say anything, both just pointing at the entrance to this over the top event. There stood Kyiari, 

She wore the outer cloak of the Jedi over an actual dress. If he could have thought, he would have found it strange that she was wearing a dress, but he couldn’t think. He didn’t even notice Checkmate and Feedback moving away to continue the party. All he could see was her. It had been a couple days since he’d last seen her. She’d come by to explain some of what had happened and to check on the boys, but she’d been insisting on otherwise staying near General Windu. He’d apparently been injured in his fight with the Chancellor and according to Kyiari, both she and General Billaba were staying close. She turned her head and looked at him and started towards him, but was quickly swarmed by senators and some of the natborn who’d been invited. He chuckled, always attracting attention everywhere they went, that was his girl. 

He settled against the wall a bit more and just watched. The thoughts that had started to bother him finally settled down. They’d return later. But he could once again just enjoy the night off. 

As he waited for her to be able to slip away, his comm pinged. He’d been told it was a night off, so he almost didn’t check it, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Checkmate pulling out his; Feedback and Aspect as well. Fishing them out of the suits they’d been given for the evening. It was a message from Kyiari. “Found a surprise a couple hours ago. Thought you’d all want to see, head over to the furthest lounge.” Across the massive room he could see the men of the 727 extracting themselves from whatever they were doing. It seemed the message had only been sent to one company in the battalion though, based on who was going. If he’d gotten it, the surprise must be for him as well.  

He joined the rest of them is trying to slip out as subtly as a group of clones could. Luckily, there were plenty of their brothers around to distract those who’d stop them. He saw Tempest Squad and Thunderwave among those moving. Sinks and the other company pilots. Even Bynn had gotten the message and he’d been transferred over to the Coruscant Guard a while back. Whatever their general had arranged for them. It must be big. 

The vode who had gotten to the room ahead of him were standing and staring when he got there. The room was empty except for a trooper standing near the window staring out, wearing a clean set of blacks instead of the suits or armor the rest were wearing. As he moves into the crowd around the door, they must have finally made enough noise to be noticed, because the vod at the window turned and Drift could swear he stopped breathing. Those tattoos, that stupid smile that was spreading over his face as he looked from face to face. Drift had never thought he’d see him again. That he was dead, another brother fallen on a dust ball far away who’s body couldn’t be retrieved. But there he stood, alive and smiling, hurt, but standing. Sinks was one of the first to move. They’d had a rivalry, but it had mostly been lighthearted. He’d been nearly broken when they’d lost Crash. The hug they shared was one of relief and joy and the shared comfort of familiarity. Drift let most of the others go first. He always put himself last, let his men, his brothers have their time, get what they needed first. But there was no denying that he was crying when he finally had the chance to embrace his vod’ika and welcome him home. 

It was a while before any of them felt like leaving that room. Having their vod come back made most want to stay close, as though he’d slip away again the minute they turned their back. It seemed Sinks and Coil weren’t about to let him go anytime soon. They were hovering so close that there was always a hand or arm or leg touching him at all times. Eventually though, most went back. After all, somebody had to serve as the distraction so that those who’d been closest to Crash could stay without being bothered by the natborns. 

Walking back into the main ballroom though, it felt a little like he’d been punched again. Kyiari had removed her robe, leaving her dress on full display. She was a vision. The dress was nearly the same dark brown as her robes. One shoulder was bare while a piece of softer brown satin brushed across her breasts to cover the other shoulder. Her waist was emphasized with the only embroidery on the dress, a gold leaf pattern stretching similar to a belt. The skirt, the skirt was full and reached to the floor, but there was a slit in the side all the way up to her thigh, her blue skin taunting him as she moved. This was not her usual attire. She usually stayed covered up in layers at these events. Wearing this, it was different, it was unusual, it was for him, it had to be. Especially as she turned and he caught sight of her necklace, a rather inexpensive thing. A small purple flower with three green leaves and lying partially hidden behind the flower, a durasteel ring, polished but handmade. His ring, on the necklace he’d given her.

 he was moving toward her before he even realized what he was doing, before he could stop and make it look like he was doing anything but making a beeline for his general though, she was walking towards him as well.  

“Hello Commander” His rank had never sounded so sweet as it did when she said it in that soft voice as she looked him over. But tonight, he wanted something more, the war was supposed to be over after all. 

“No titles today Kyiari,” He said softly, mindful of where they were. “It’s just us for now.”

The smile she gave him, that was the smile he’d fought for. “Drift.”

He needed to say it before he forgot, before that damn dress and his ring on her neck made him forget, He’d get more answers later, for now though, “Thank you for bringing Crash. It’s good to know he’s alive. To be able to see him and know he’s back and alive and with his vode where he belongs.”  

“I’ll always bring your brothers home whenever I can. You all deserved to be together as much as you want. He needed it too. To know he’s not alone anymore.” She slowly looked him up and down, that familiar glimmer in her eyes “you look nice, ankai’a”

He gently tugged at her hand, prompting her to twirl for him, before moving closer. “You look beautiful, cyare. Mesh’la” he let himself smirk just a bit. It was satisfying to know that she thought he looked better than he thought he did. “I don’t think I’m seen this dress before. It looks spectacular on you, wear this for someone special?”

 “Of course, I wore this for the best man I’ve ever met, and I love him very much. I thought a victory ball might be a nice place to dress up for him.”

He smiled and would have stayed there forever, but those battlefield senses hadn’t dulled in the days since the war ended. He could see the senators and their guests eyeing them and some moving closer, clearly trying to hear what they were whispering to each other. That just wouldn’t do. Maybe it was selfish, but he wanted his Jedi all to himself for just awhile longer. He’d have to share her with the rest of the galaxy soon enough. He lifted a hand and gestured to the dancefloor. “Care for a dance.” 

“Of course Drift, I’d love to” Kyiari placed her small blue hand in his and he led her out on the floor. As he pulled her in close and began swaying to the music, it seemed the galaxy narrowed. His brothers laughter surrounding him and his girl in his arms as the music swelled. It was almost enough to make him believe it was all truly over.

#clone victory ball AU #victory ball au #writing #a happy ending for all #clone wars #commander drift #general kyiari #star wars #star wars: the clone wars #fanfics #the clone wars fanfic

[strafethesesinners]

Tagged by @blissfulalchemist to post a fic from a year or more ago (? I think that’s how it goes). None of my Far Cry 5 is a year old yet, but I’ll take this opportunity to post this Dishonored oneshot I did back in 2016. 

(I’ll tag some people if you want to do it or just want to read @risenlucifer @nightwingshero @chazz-anova @smithandrogers @madsismad @amistrio @chyrstis @consumedkings @faithchel @shallow-gravy)

Spoilers for the Knife of Dunwall Dishonored DLC Warnings for violence and gore Words: 2392  also on AO3

Daud was drowning. The icy, stinking water of the Wrenhaven River grew darker and darker above his head as he sank further into its depths. Daud was a strong swimmer, but something had a hold of his legs, pulling him down. He looked below him and screamed. Hundreds, thousands of corpses clogged the riverbed, clinging to his legs, his arms, and tearing at his clothes with rotting claws. Water rushed into his throat, but he could not close his mouth or his eyes. The more he struggled, the harder the bodies gripped him. They were screaming, moaning, begging for mercy. The water became blood: the blood of every person he had ever killed. It was choking him, yet he could not die. The pleading eyes of the corpses turned black and Daud understood: he was already dead and this was his hell. Still he fought against it, trying in vain to break free and reach the surface, but the ghosts clung on, all of them wailing as one.

“Mommy!”

Daud woke up shaking, his stomach curdling. He sat up and dry heaved over his blankets, but nothing came up. He tore off his sweat soaked shirt and tried to stand. It took him several minutes to regulate his breathing and bring his mind back to reality. It was barely after sunset, judging by the faint light coming through the glass-less windows. Daud lit a cigarette and walked out onto his small balcony on the top floor of the Chamber of Commerce building. He took a deep breath, welcoming the cool air on his sweaty face. The Flooded District smelled of Weepers, dead rats, and whale oil, but it was a familiar smell, and lately, Daud had been latching onto anything even vaguely comforting. He was starting to think his assassins were right, and he was losing it. He could sense them losing confidence in him day by day, and he was grateful none of them were here right now to see him trembling, and sweating, wearing only his trousers: terrified of a dream. But as his mind grew clearer, it seemed odd that no one was around. Daud’s eyes scanned the rooftops carefully. There were no Whalers in sight. A different sort of unease pricked at the back of his mind, as he tossed his cigarette butt away. Instantly, he was alert: listening, watching. He tensed. His scarred hands gripped the iron railing, the Outsider’s Mark glowing faintly on the back of his left hand. Daud was about to turn back into his room when he heard a click behind him, and the cold metal of a pistol pressed against the base of his skull. 

He froze. There were only two people in the world that could sneak up on him undetected. Not sure which one he was dreading more, he spoke.

“Billie?”

“Yes.”

The shock of hearing her voice was colder than the hands of the nightmare ghosts. Daud now knew he would have gladly taken the Royal Protector over this; he would have taken anything over this. Daud’s mind was reeling, but he kept himself absolutely still, and his voice calm.

“You’re here to kill me.”

“Yes,” she said again, although it had not been a question. His dream came rushing back to him, and he was suddenly afraid. All these years he had often longed to die, but now a terrible thought occurred to him. What if these dreams were glimpses of what was to come? He never asked the Outsider, but he assumed that his spirit would go to the Void after his death. What if his fate was an eternity drowning in blood in the Void; tormented forever by those he had slain? 

I don’t want to die, he thought, almost frantically, I can’t die. His heart was beating hard, but still he remained outwardly calm. Billie kept her pistol at his head, but had not moved to pull the trigger. Daud took her hesitation as a good sign. This would not be an easy thing for her. Daud had not become the most feared man in the Empire through violence alone; he was as cunning as he was ruthless, and he had talked himself out of sticky situations almost as much as he had fought his way out. If he could somehow convince her to spare him…..

“Billie…” he began.

“Don’t try to talk your way out of this one, Daud,” Billie said. Her voice was clear; she wasn’t wearing her mask.

“You know me too well, Lurk,” he said wryly.

“Shut up, I know what I’m doing and you’re not going to change my mind.” The slightest tremor ran up her arm; Daud could feel it through the pistol point. 

“Kill me then,” Daud said. She did nothing. Daud took a chance, and turned slowly around to face her. She did not lower the pistol, but neither did she fire. Billie’s eyes were wide, but there was a determined set to her jaw. It was an expression he knew well. She had the same look when they had first met, and she had dared to face him: clearly frightened and yet too stubborn to back down. 

“Can at least ask why I’m about to die?” He looked her in the eye.

“You’re weak,” she replied coldly, “and old. This outfit needs a new leader. Someone to get us through this plague, and the chaos you caused by killing the Empress. I don’t want to do this, but it has to be done.”

“Does it now?” Daud snapped. There was an awful pain in his chest. Worse than any physical wound he’d ever had. It was a pain he hadn’t felt since he realized he would never see his mother again. “I always assumed one of you would kill me and take my place,” he said more softly, “ I just never thought…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. He knew he was too compromised to get out of this one by talking, Billie was much too close to him and had learned all his tricks over the years; the realization made him sick. He had never felt so vulnerable. 

“You’re right, Billie,” he said, “I always thought of myself as clever, but clearly I was a fool for ever trusting you.”

Billie smiled her little apologetic smile; the one she would wear when he scolded her for killing one guard too many, and she knew he didn’t really mean it.

“There’s more to it,” she said, “you deserve to know the truth. The woman you’ve been seeking, Delilah,”

“What about her?”

“She…..came to me, a while back. She offered me so much…...showed me a new way to see; she gave me so much more than you ever did. More than you could ever hope to give.”

Daud could hear the contempt in her speech and it hurt. But now anger was starting to burn in his veins. Of course it all came back to her. Delilah. She had taken his best fighter, his best friend even, certainly the only person he cared about in the world, and turned her against him. A familiar itch clawed it’s way down his arms, making his fingers twitch and ache for a blade. The sun went down behind the buildings, and the Flooded District was doused in the cool grey glow of twilight.

“The power she has, Daud,” Billie was saying, “you can’t even imagine. She’s stronger than you, stronger than anyone I’ve ever known. And all I have to do to be at her side is…..get rid of you.”

She stared at him and her eyes were sad. Daud’s head was pounding.

“I’m sorry, Daud,” Billie said. 

“Me too,” he said. 

Daud’s hand flashed up and grabbed Billie’s arm, forcing it to the side. Her shot went wide, and he twisted her arm hard. She gave a gasp of pain, and the pistol fell over the railing into the muddy water far below. Daud transversed past her back into his room. He snatched his sword up from beside his bed, there was no time to grab anything else. Billie drew her sword. The metal floor was cold on Daud’s bare feet as they circled each other for a moment; the Outsider’s Mark burned hot. Billie sent a wristbow bolt at his head, and he dodged, then drove forward with a quick thrust at her midriff. She blocked it just in time, and pushed back against his blade. She stomped down on the top of his right foot with her boot, the pain made him falter and she beat his sword aside and punched him in the face. Daud hopped backward, ducking as another bolt flew over his head. He spat out a mouthful of blood with a curse, and then transversed behind her and struck. She turned and parried, and he blocked her retaliatory slash. They battled back and forth across the metal walkway that served as Daud’s bedroom for what seemed like an hour. It was hard to measure time during a fight. But Daud was the better swordsman, and he was closing on Billie when she crouched, opened her mouth, and screamed. 

The sound was like a physical force. It lifted Daud up off his feet and sent him tumbling over the railing into his office below. He landed hard on his desk. For a brief moment he lay stunned; the air knocked out of him. Then her heard the sound of Billie blinking down next to him and jumped up as quickly as he could. He wasn’t quite fast enough. Her sword missed its target of his neck, but cut his shoulder to the bone. The pain of it spurred his desperation, and he attacked with everything he had left. Billie was never taken off guard, but his fury did seem to rattle her some. He managed to get in a few cuts of his own in as her first few blocks came too slow. But against her padded leather whaler suit, the damage was nowhere near as bad as when she hit him. Soon he was bleeding heavily from wounds to his forearms and chest, in addition to his shoulder,and his strength was starting to fade. He could barely lift his sword arm high enough to parry her strikes. He curled his Marked hand into a fist and sent a call out through the Void, but no assassins appeared. Billie must’ve told them ahead of time what she planned, and killed anyone who objected. Daud wondered if Thomas was dead, or if he had also turned against him. He retreated across the room. He tried one of the doors, thinking of escape, but they were barred from the other side.

Of course he thought grimly. He spied the open window behind his desk, and blinked over to it, using the last of his energy. He turned to locate her before he jumped. Billie was standing in the middle of the office. She raised her hand, and sent a shower of several shadowy darts flying at him. He blocked some with his sword, and covered his face with his other arm. But there were too many. One went through his thigh, three into his unprotected guts, and one into his chest. It had missed his heart he know, or he would already be dead, but he could tell it had punctured his lung. He fell to one knee, struggling to breathe. Billie came towards him, but stopped at his desk, just out of reach. Daud still gripped his sword tightly. She approached him slowly. He attempted one last weak slash, but she grabbed his wrist and wrenched the sword from his hand. Gently, she set it down on his desk. 

“It’s over, Daud,” she said quietly. 

“Looks like it, huh? I taught you too well,” he laughed, and blood came bubbling up his throat. He choked and coughed, the blood spattering down his bare chest and onto the wooden floorboards. He slumped back against his bookshelf. Billie stood watching him. When he looked up at her again, her eyes were wet. Daud had never once seen her cry. And yet, staring into her eyes, Daud knew she was still going to go through with it. He wasn’t ready to face the Void, but, now that it seemed inevitable, he wasn’t so afraid as before. There was no point. The best he could hope for was that he was wrong, and that there was nothing after death. And the worst…..Daud wondered if it was possible to fight ghosts in hell. He wanted to laugh again, but it hurt too much. Blood leaked steadily from the holes in his gut. 

“It was always going to end this way, Daud,” she said, “You and me. It’s our nature. But you’re not as weak as I thought.”

“Thanks,” Daud coughed again. The pain was agonizing. “Could you find it in you to end it quickly?” he gasped out. Billie continued to stare at him, unmoving. Daud didn’t know how long it was going to take to die, maybe up to an hour depending on how bad the wound in his chest was, maybe even longer.  But maybe that was all part of it. He never thought Billie hated him so much. He tried to reach up to her and she flinched back, still wary.

“I’m not going to fight you anymore, Billie, I just need you to do it now. If you ever had any….feeling for me at all, don’t let me die like this, make it a clean death.” She still did nothing, looking at him almost in disbelief now, as if she didn’t quite trust what she was seeing. “Billie, please,” Daud said, “don’t make me beg.”

Without a word, Billie took his sword from the desk and knelt down so she was level with him. She reached out and cupped his face in her gloved hand, and then drove his sword into his heart with all her strength. He convulsed once as his life bled away.

“Sorry, Daud,” Billie whispered. 

Her whisper went on and on and turned into the haunting hiss of runesong, which became the mournful cry of whales. The pale blue light of the Void crept over his sight, obliterating everything else, and the Knife of Dunwall was dead.

#Dishonored #Daud #Billie Lurk #the knife of dunwall #dishonored fic #ok so I read this again and #y'all it's pretty damn good #if I do say so myself #Sorry about tumblr making it all single space i know it makes it hard to read #my writing #fanfic tag game #posting in the middle of the night but I'll reblog later

[wisdomrays]

QUESTIONS & ANSWERS: What is Jihad? Part: 7

Sometimes he got up to pray without wakening his wife, since he did not want to disturb her sleep. 'A'isha narrates:

One night I woke up to find the Messenger was not there. Thinking that he might be visiting another of his wives, I became very jealous. I started to get up, when my hand touched his feet in the darkness. He was prostrating and saying in his prayer: "O God, I seek refuge in Your pleasure from Your wrath, I seek refuge in Your forgiveness from Your punishment. O God, I seek refuge with You from You, I seek refuge in Your grace from Your torment, in Your mercy from Your majesty, and in Your Compassion from Your irresistible power. I am not able to praise You as You praise Yourself."

Being well aware of the obligation to follow his every action, his Companions did their best to be worthy of his company in the Hereafter. Some became physically distressed at the thought of being parted from him in the next life. For example, Thawban lost his appetite after he was unable to participate in a military expedition. On the Prophet's return, everyone went out to meet him. Thawban was so pale that the Messenger asked about his health. Thawban replied:

O Messenger, I am obsessed with fear of being parted from you in the Hereafter. You are the Messenger, so you will enter Paradise, but I don't know whether I shall deserve it. And even if God admits me, your abode certainly will be very much above mine. In this case, I shall not be able to be in your company forever. I don't know how I will be able to bear this, seeing that I cannot endure 3 days' separation from you in this world.

Thawban's worries were relieved when the Messenger told him: "You will always be in the company of the one whom you love." To love someone means to follow his or her example in this life, and the Companions were more attentive to this than any other people.

'Umar was very eager to establish a family relationship with the Messenger, for he had heard the latter say that all genealogical connections would be useless in the Hereafter, except for those with his own household. Although the Prophet held 'Umar's hand many times and said: "We will be this (like the two hands together) in the Hereafter too," 'Umar still desired the family connection. He attempted to achieve this by marrying Fatima, but she would only marry 'Ali. He married his daughter Hafsa to the Prophet and, in the later years of his caliphate, married 'Ali's daughter Umm Kulthum. If he had wished, he could have married a neighboring emperor's daughter. But his desire was to be allied to the Prophet's household.

Once Hafsa said to 'Umar: My dear father, from time to time foreign envoys come and you receive embassies. You should change your garment for a new one. 'Umar was shocked by this suggestion and replied: "How can I endure to part company with my two friends, the Prophet and Abu Bakr? I must follow their example so strictly that I can be with them in the Hereafter."

The Messenger and his Companions succeeded in the greater jihad, and their devotion to God was very strong. They spent so much of their time praying that those who saw them thought they did nothing else. But this was not the case, for they led thoroughly balanced lives.

They were very sincere in their deeds, since they did everything for the sake of God and constantly disciplined themselves. Once when 'Umar was giving a sermon, he suddenly said without any apparent reason: "O 'Umar, you were a shepherd pasturing your father's sheep." When asked after the prayer why he had said this, he answered: "It came to my mind that I was the caliph, so I became afraid of feeling proud." One day he was seen carrying a sack upon his back. When asked why he was doing this, he replied: "I felt some pride within me, so I desired to get rid of it." A later caliph, 'Umar Ibn 'Abd al-'Aziz, once wrote a letter to a friend and then tore it up. When asked why, he explained: "I prided myself on its eloquence, so I have torn it up."

Only jihad performed by such perfect souls produces effective results. Those who have not abandoned pride, self-regard, and insincerity most probably will damage the cause of Islam greatly. I would like to emphasize that such people will never obtain the desired result.

Some Qur'anic verses or chapters describe both types of jihad. One of them is: When the help of God comes, and victory, and you see men entering God's religion in throngs, then glorify the praise of your Lord, and seek His forgiveness; for He is Relenting, Merciful (110:1–3). When the believers performed the lesser jihad, whether by fighting, preaching, or enjoining the right and forbidding the wrong, God's help and victory came, and people began to enter Islam in throngs. At that moment, the All-Mighty decreed that His praises should be glorified and His forgiveness should be sought. As all success and victory are from God, it is He who must be praised and worshipped.

If we can combine our triumph over the enemy with our triumph over our carnal selves, we will have performed jihad completely. 'A'isha narrates that after the revelation of these verses, the Messenger often recited this prayer: "I glorify You with praise, O God. I seek Your forgiveness, and I turn in repentance to You."

The Prophet expresses these two aspects of jihad together in one of his sayings: "The eyes of two persons will never witness Hellfire: the eyes of the soldier who guards the frontier and on the battlefield, and the eyes of those who shed tears for fear of God." [13] The first person is engaged in the lesser jihad; the latter is engaged in the greater jihad. Those who succeed in their jihad will escape the torment of Hell.

We must consider jihad in its entirety. Those who say one thing and then do another cause nothing but trouble in the ranks of Muslims. Since they cannot discipline themselves and overcome self-regard, ostentation, and the desire to dominate, they bring only disharmony to the cause of Islam. On the other hand, those who live in almost total seclusion and try to attain some high spiritual station without working to promote the truth merely reduce Islam to a "spiritual" system, like certain aspects of yoga. Such people argue that a Muslim's foremost duty is to acquire spiritual maturity so as to be saved from Hell. What they fail to realize is that those who regard themselves as safe from Hell are deceived, for God decrees that we should continue to serve Him as long as we live: And serve your Lord till the inevitable (death) comes unto you (15:99).

Muslims should never regard themselves as safe from the torments of Hell or give up hope of God's grace and forgiveness. They should tremble with fear of God, as 'Umar did. However, this fear should not prevent them from hoping to enter Paradise: But for those who fear the standing before their Lord there are two Gardens (55:46).

In short, jihad consists of self-control and preaching the truth. It requires overcoming one's carnal desires and encouraging others to do the same. Neglecting the former produces social anarchy, while neglecting the latter results in laziness. Today we must achieve a true understanding of Islam in general, and of jihad in particular. This can be realized only through strictly following the Prophet's Sunna.

#allah #god #prophet #Muhammad #quran #ayah #sunnah #hadith #islam #muslim #muslimah #hijab #help #revert #convert #dua #salah #pray #prayer #reminder #religion #welcome to islam #how to convert to islam #new convert #new revert #new muslim #revert help #convert help #islam help #muslim help

[hentaimommi]

ʀᴏʏᴀʟ ᴀᴘᴀᴛʜʏ | ʟᴇᴠɪ ᴀᴄᴋᴇʀᴍᴀɴ (x fem! reader)

Warnings: trauma, death, monarchy, abuse of power (?)

Summery: After her father's death, the new queen is sworn in. Her new personal knight is assigned to guard her at nighttime. Quickly she learns he is not just any night, nor is she just any queen.

[A/N]: I really hate the damsel in destress type queen/knight stories, so I tried to change up the arch type a little. fantasy au :) sorry if it felt rushed!

[R O Y A L A P A T H Y]

"The death of King (D/N) will forever be a greatest tragedy to our kingdom," My fathers best friend, who was also the earl, had been lecturing for what felt like sentinels by now. Sorcerer Hanji Zoe was at their witts end by now, clearly bored. I also tapped my food below the ballgown I'd been fitted and forced into this morning.

"I have new hope in the shadowing horizon of his beloved daughter, she will lead us to many victories. Let's hope the dragon guards love her!" He clinked the tall tankard with the barbarian man next to him, finalizing the speech. Many people laughed in fancy, but all I found myself wanting to do was visit the garden.

I excused myself, standing up and begging the well known path to the sanctuary. My heels clicked across the cobblestone like a smooth stone on a lake top, all the way until I had been met with the large doors. Built by the Elvish and designed by my mother, the garden was the most sacred room in the kingdom.

Guarded by two large stone gargoyles, watched over by the eye of luck, and cursed beyond point of entry if not completing the ritual. I took two fingers on each hand, palating the tongue of both gargoyle. Then, the eye above the door that was imprinted into the stone began to glow. "Who are you here under?" The entity I spoke frequently to requested. "(F/N) (L/N)." I responded, fingers still on the tounges. "Ah, the soon to be queen. You may enter."

The doors cascaded open, revealing the garden of most beautiful stature. Reds, greens, blues, purples- as far as the eye could see. I only wish I could stay, actually enter and be here. Duty called below, though. The bells were ringing and it was almost evening. The doors closed at lack of entry when I walked away.

Arriving in the meeting room was my next step. Many people of all races and stature were sitting around the discussion table, all watching me as soon as I entered. "Your majesty," The small frog woman, Ymir, hopped from her seat over to me. I raised my brow, indicating her to answer. "We have someone for you to meet, and hopefully show around if you would be so kind." Her voice was rough, you could tell she was of frog decent from a mile away. "Okay."

The room went silent as I turned to face the door, red dress swaying round. The fact attire was picked by my mothers personal designer, Historia. A sweet lady, but boy did she enjoy flowy gowns. The doors opened, revealing two men. One, a tall blonde man, and the next a shorter raven haired man. His gaze was cold, piercing even. "Your grace," The tall one spoke, his voice was deep and unforgiving. Like he'd seen a thousand lifetimes. "I am here to serve you your personal knight, who will serve you endlessly till death."

I looked over to the onyx haired man, who looked as if he was being tortured. "I appreciate your offer so much, thank you sir..?" He looked to me, kneeling on one knee and holding his hand to his heart for all to see. "Erwin. This is sir Levi, your guard." I nodded, walking up to the kneeling men and pressing a light hand on both of their shoulders. "Thank you, you are dismissed."

As the day continued I grew very weary, ready for any point of sleep I could obtain. Before the death if my father, every night I would stop by the sorcerers library. Instead I opted to go to my room this night, absolutely restless from the long and treacherous day. Upon arrival of my room, though, the same man from earlier stood flat out in front of it.

"You're Levi, correct?" I asked, looking into his tone cold eyes. They were so brash, clearly full of pained stories of a lifetime. "Yes, my queen." He moved aside. "You don't have to call me that. You can call me (F/N), and, come inside. It's cold in the halls." His blush was clear as day, nevertheless he followed me as told. I pointed to an empty plush bench for him to take a seat on.

"So, Levi, tell me about your life." I said, walking into my restroom to peel off the dress and change into my nightwear. He hesitated for a moment, clear by the cough let out. "Well, I was raised in a brothel. My mother worked as a lady of the night. She passed at a very young age, my uncle- who was also a knight- taking me in. He would soon leave, too, making me fend for myself. It's tragic and pitiful, I know, but it taught me many things."

"It's not pitiful." I returned changed with my hair graciously braided down to one side, smiling at the man before me. He was handsome, I had to admit. Dark hair offsetting his pale skin in all the right ways, rough appearance only making him that much more attractive. "If anything, you're nobel." He looked up, setting his sword aside, the sighing. "I suppose so. I always wondered what it would be like to guard a queen," He drifted off, eyeing the walls. "I always thought they'd be cold and distant, but it paid well so I didn't mind to take the job. You aren't like that."

I smiled. "Glad you think so, sir Levi. I think you're one of the most brave, and handsome damned men to walk these halls. I bid you a safe night, hope to see you in the morning." I then climbed under the large canopy that cascaded over my bed. It was made of the finest material, soft and warm. The night was cold, leaving me tossing and turning into the daylight unlike I had wanted.

Rising up from my half-slumber, I was met with the vision of Levi sitting exactly how he was before, restless, staring at the wall again. I didn't believe this was lazy- so I rose from my bed and put on the large robe that had been set aside by my maids. "Morn, Levi. How was your night?" I asked, walking over to him. He didn't respond, eyebags heavily present.

I walked closer, lightly touching his scarred face with my soft hand. He was so cold. I took off the robe, laying it over his shoulders. "What's..what are you going my lady?" He asked, thumbing the material that was new on his body. I smiled, standing up. "You were cold. Where do you live?" I asked, undoing the braid in my hair.

He hesitated as he did the night before, only to look away once more. "A- um, hut. Down in the village. I live in it by myself." He proclaimed, rising from his seat. I nodded, "Sleep in my quarters for the day. I insist. The bed is nice and I will have maids deliver a warm outfit to my door." His eyes darted to me, "You can't be serious- I'm not-"

My hand wavered in front of him. "I insist. Keep the bed warm for me, would you?" He nodded. I took the robe, tying it around myself once more. Levi ridded himself of the metal plates, leaving me to see just how muscular he really is. I avoided it, going to my dressing room where all of my dressing ladies already were.

The day passed as before, but this time I had been able to go the library, wanting to give the knight more time to rest up. The bookshelves were dusty, place so empty you would think no one works here.

"Hello? Hanji?" I asked, looking around. Noises came loudly from the behind the counter, making me back away. They were inconspicuous, that was, until the person stood from behind. An Elvin boy named Armin my tropes had picked up. He'd been stranded, left for dead on a battle field. "Oh, hello Armin!" I smiled, lying the book I had picked up on the counter.

"Hello my lady! How are you?" He asked, ears fluttering. How cute. "I'm okay! I've gotten a new knight, I left him to rest in my room for the day." Armin looked at me in a questioning manner. "And his name?" I rested my elbow on the table, looking over to the door through which I had came. "Levi-"

"Levi Ackerman?" He asked, clearly disheveled. I nodded, eyebrow arching as if to question him. "He's a famous knight! So smart and strong. They say during his last battle he suffered life threatening injuries, though, making him tired and worn." Armin gushed, smiling brightly and blushing as I listened.

When returning to my room, he was still asleep. I didn't think I needed him for the night; so I slipped into my dressing room and changed into another beautiful nightgown. Braiding my hair once more, I returned into my room to find him still sleeping. I remembered what Armin had said. He sustained horrible injuries, scars were probably all over his body. I couldn't imagine. Lifting up the edge of the curtain like material, I found him in the clothes my ladies had brought for him. He looked nice, and calm.

Instead of waking him up- interrupting him from his sleep, I decided to sleep next to him. Surely he wouldn't mind if I stayed a distance away, and slept under a different duvet. As I slipped in, his warmth had consumed the whole bed. It was warm in places he hadn't even been in. I tried to rest easy, only being woken up once when he accidentally kicked me; but I didn't mind.

The next morning I would wake up with him completely wrapped around me. His leg over both of my own, his arms around my waist and chest. This made me laugh, pushing his arm around a little to wake up. As I did, his entire body jolted in a gasp. "Where am I? (F/N)? What time of day is it?" He asked, then analyzing how close he was to me. "You slept with- me? I LEFT YOU ALONE?" I chuckled at his worries, him trying to get out of the bed. Swiftly, I gently grabbed his wrist. "Levi, don't worry about it. Just, rest, okay? You've done enough."

Reluctantly, he nodded. I pushed my hands into his hair as he scooted back into me to be the little spoon.

#levi ackerman #fantasy au #levi x reader #hanji zoe #armin arlert #levi aot

[life-rewritten]

The Gifted Graduation: The Story of Supot

The origin of Nyx88 and The Gifted Program

When watching shows like gifted, I tend always never to trust the first explanation or narration of a flashback; especially when told by someone who I have been shown by the show never to trust and to always be on guard about. This is the same with this show for stories where characters seem unimportant or forgotten to the side when you know that the show pays attention to details and always brings back unfinished plots. Lastly, I also tend not to trust death in these shows, especially when I don't see the dead body visually, the reason and how it happened on screen. With The Gifted; ever since season 1, I remembered telling my self to not just go along with what is being said, but to look out for clues of potential foreshadowing, patterns and hints that something is going on deeper. If I had clued onto these, it would have been easier to discover that the director was as gifted as Pang in season 1, that Pom's powers were what they were and that Pang was ultimately going to lose by the end of the show. I didn't, and I ended up being blown away by all the plot twists after plot twists along with Pang who thought he was one step ahead always, only to be shown that he never even got past the starting line. That's where I'm at with season 2 of The Gifted, Graduation; I can't seem to trust anyone no matter how good their actions are, I can't seem to add up the mysteries being told to us before they're pushed aside and forgotten. But here's me trying to piece together a theory of what we have so far

The Story of Supot

One of these is to do with Director Supot and his narrative of what happened to make him this way. One glaring factor that was important to the story was the death of Yuth. It was so essential, the easy things people noticed about it were mentioned: Pang and Supot and Pom mirror each other with their idealism and failure to be good leaders, and Yuth, Wave, Channon are their companions with brains and smarts who are always for them but still end up being hurt in the misfire of their goals.  This pattern was even shown in the future generation with Third and Time.  Of course, it was nice to ship and obsess over these similarities, but something wasn't sitting right with me this whole episode and the previous. That was the entire idea that both Channon (I've made a post about him here) and Yuth are not to be trusted.

Their stories are open-ended steeped with mystery and hurt, and they're left forgotten to the side. One because we didn't expect them to be necessary anymore; they've served their use (Yuth is murdered in the past, and Channon is hiding behind the ministry and isn't crucial to the main story (or so we think)). Two because their companions are who we're more focused on, who is more prominent in the story (Supot is our main antagonist and Pom works for Supot and is our primary teacher for the gifted)

It's interesting how we the audience have been led to believe in these 2 when really we know with this show that no one is good; no one is evil. They're both. Channon seems like a sacrificial lamb, and Yuth also joins into this. I can't help but feel the need to call out why that's so worrying when it comes to this show. So here's a post analysing Yuth and also what I think the storyline is panning to.

What we're told about Yuth

He and Supot have been long time friends who have supported each other from the start, he's known about Supot's potential and has always supported him in his dream to do more for people like him with the government

He is extremely intelligent, he is known as the brains of Supot's group, and he helps research for the discovering of the gifted program and also for nyxx 88. His intelligence further makes him useful to the ministry later, but he runs away and gets killed. 

He has unrequited feelings for someone. It's either his friend Supot or his girlfriend, Nate. He's not okay with feeling like a third wheel.

He's the one who discovers about nyx88 and the ministry's intention with gifted. It frightens him, and he comes to warn Supot, but then he gets murdered by the ministry. 

He doesn't feel wary about Supot's potential because Supot promised to never use it on him. This promise is broken later, but Supot tells him that he broke it and didn't continue to manipulate him any further so they fight for a bit and it gets pushed to the side because they have other things to worry about: Nate and the ministry. 

He doesn't have a potential like Supot and Nate. He never got to realise if he did or didn't get tested, but from what it looked like when Nate was going through the test he didn't seem to have it since you have to listen to it for it to trigger you. He was nearby.

Things we forget about Yuth:

He's shown distaste towards Supot's idealism for the gifted program. He agrees Supot should give up on the plan and think of another way later on and not fight with the ministry, but Supot refused and continued experimenting, which led to Nate getting hurt. 

He is brilliant, and the director instead of trying to get rid of him asked him to work for him. We are not shown details of what happened; we are told by him (unreliable narrator) that they are planning to hurt the gifted with the virus. His intelligence is what causes an issue to his narrative; the ministry only gets rid of people who are gifted and have taken things too far like breaking the law as we are shown at the beginning of this episode.  We're shown that the gifted get 'distributed' and we are shown sounds of someone screaming with sounds of a chain saw and then a fire burning which suggests they burn their bodies afterwards? But we know that Minister does not get rid of assets valuable to him, he respects and finds Yuth's intelligence necessary so to get rid of him seems a bit too much, especially in such a gruesome and cruel way. Then again, Yuth knows too much and broke the rules so the ministry maybe that cruel. Except:

The Minister did not actually know where Yuth was when he went missing. When Supot arrives to blame him for Yuths death, he asks of his whereabouts. This suggests he did not know about Yuth's death because if he did; the music would have been more sinister and we would have seen that on his face as he answers Supots question. His focus instead switched to Supot and trying to get Supot to start the gifted program. Yuths, death is forgotten and pushed to the side, which is weird. 

He has unrequited feelings for someone, and it wasn't enjoyable for him to see the relationship between Nate and Supot. It's unclear who he has feelings for; there are hints to it being both:

Supot because of their closeness, and the way he stared longingly at times towards him. He always seemed there to help him, support him and be by his side. It's very similar to the other duos, especially Pang and Wave.

Nate: This is my theory; unfortunately, he seems worried for her well being despite trying to tsundere about it, he willingly tries to get her medicine and also is very upset when she undergoes her experiment. He's too rattled when it doesn't go well and seems aggrieved at Supot for causing her harm. Before he dies, he also mentions her well being as the reason for why he escaped to  tell him about the plans. 

5. This means that he had reasons for resentment towards Supot building up, that's not been dealt with, which means it will be if he is alive. It could be a reason as a trigger for why he could potentially be harbouring revenge if he did not die, but it adds to him also feeling resentment for always being overlooked by either Supot or Nate. 

6. He's the one who gives Supot information about nyxx 88 and discovering of the gifted potentials. This goes back again to working for the ministry. We don't know what he was asked to work on, but looking at the vials of the virus, I would say he had a hand in creating the vials for them. It's a weird scene because we would have discovered the same information from the Minister later on when Supot goes to see him, and he threatens for the gifted program to be created, so we didn't need to have Yuth recap what's been happening before he dies. The scene before his death; him frantic and showing up randomly to Supot is just as strange as his death. I also want to link this to another mirror character of his who we are unsure of his job in the ministry/forgotten; Channon also claims to be working in the ministry after his memories came back, but we're given vague details. It's also just as weird and mysterious as Yuth. 

7. He also gets reasons, even more, to feel angry and resentful at Supot and this doesn't get discussed or resolved, it's pushed to the side and forgotten. He's upset when he discovers that Supot broke his promise not to use his potential on him. This could either hint to him feeling upset just like Channon at their partners for betraying them as tools/experiments to their potentials to fulfil their goals; Yuth forgets about it, but Channon is traumatised by the events and decides to hide from the director. I don't believe in this for one second. it could also pile onto his hate for Supot's gifted program since he can see it's harmful and it led to Nate being hurt when she too was experimented on by him. 

8 This is an interesting one? Could he have a potential? Why were we so close to finding it out only for Supot to stop him?  We can argue that he shouldn't because he didn't seem affected when the sound to activate the potential happened, but Supot also didn't scream however you may only be affected if you haven't been activated before. Him not screaming either suggests he has no potential or he has one and has kept it secret from Supot. If he doesn't have a potential, then he's definitely more against the use of potentials because of the consequences using it. If he does have one, then it may be the opposite, and he plans to use them for more. 

9. The way he died. We are not shown how Yuth dies, we are told, but no one seems to know how he did, and the reasons for why seem convoluted and not accurate. Supot definitely believes the ministry killed him; hence his mistrust and hate towards them, but the ministry seems not that fussed and doesn't even acknowledge his death. It's just so random, we can think he died because we saw his glasses fall, but he could have taken it off and disappeared pretending to die. The reason is why? And if Yuth is not dead, what does this have to do with gifted?

How does this connect to what's been going on

The first anomaly to this is the Minister. Sure he seems to work for the government and do what they want him to do with the gifted like kill them if they break a rule or convince Supot to create a program to find them and weaken them. But he's weird, he doesn't see the gifted as disposable he sees them as tools that can benefit the government, and he sees Supot and Yuth both as valuable assets. He's the person who goes to Yuth and asks him to work for him, and we're not sure what that work entailed. He's also the person who leaked the information about the gifted which just seems like a strange thing to do considering his goals is to hide them and keep them a secret and stop them with the virus.

This is why he's an anomaly. He also seems to be very secretive when it came to Yuths death like I said he acted like he didn't know where Yuth was, but he switched the subject and focused on Supot instead. He didn't need to kill Yuth the way he killed others because he had no potential and he wasn't a dangerous threat (unless he discovered something else he didn't tell us) and he doesn't seem to know that he did anything like that. It's the way he changes the subject though that suggests that he may be lying and he knows that Yuth did not die and he may still be working for the Minister secretly. Either way, the Minister is up to something, if Yuth is included; he may be involved or not involved with the Minister that's why I call him an anomaly to this theory.

The next thing necessary to this storyline is the introduction to Nyxx88 we know it's Yuth; he discovers what it is, what it does and how it works. We also know that the Minister gave it to Darin to give to Supot to get rid of him, but she didn't, and it instead was stolen by Korn. Let's pause here first of all the Minister giving the virus to Supot makes no sense to me, as he could have done it any other way without having to hire Darin to do so, it may be because Supot is rebelling and protecting the gifted program. However, it still doesn't add up to me.

Second, the way Korn discovers about nyxx88 is so convenient it hurts. It's meant to be an accident that Channon gave the information to Korn, he didn't know Korn will take the lead and become evil with it, but I've already said in my previous post why this feels like a lie. The leaking of this virus is what the plot of this season revolves around. It also revolves around the anti gifted and the ideologies between the ministry and Supot. Korn being revealed as the leader of the anti gifted still feels convoluted, and some parts are missing to his narrative apart from his hate of his potential for why he'd go so far. He seems like an unreliable narrator that is being puppeteered by someone else.  

This brings me to think that Pang, Supot and most of the students are actually in the dark about what's going on. Another person is playing them. I think this person is Yuth. I believe that because he's the closest source to the origin of nyxx88 that it all goes back to him. But I also think that the Minister could also be part of this.

So here's my theory on what is going on so far:

Korn received nyx88 intentionally by Channon. Channon joined the ministry after being betrayed and traumatised by Supot and Pom, and after his memories came back, he felt hurt and resentful being discarded and forgotten about. He also probably hated he was experimented on and a victim to the powers of Pom and Supot.  (Again parallels when Yuth found out about Supot using the powers on him) 

I think Channon either is in contact with the Minister if he's involved and the prominent leader of this plan or he came into contact with Yuth. Yuth convinced Channon to join the ministry (either with Minister knowing or not knowing) and to use this form a back story, the same story he told Pang about working in the maths and IT department. Yuth convinced Channon because they're both filled with resentment against their partners and they felt mistreated or hurt by the creation of the gifted program. They're both victims. 

This is what led to the creation or alliance with the anti gifted. (Korn) I don't think Korn is behind the anti gifted, and I still don't trust he's the leader who did all the things, including getting Namtarn hurt. He wouldn't go that far. 

Now the issue is finding out what the goal is: I have three theories again.

It's either to do with ending the gifted program ultimately, getting rid of Supot and having revenge on him or its the opposite and it's to control the gifted program and turn them into weapons. 

Ending the gifted program altogether. This points to why they could be the creators of the anti gifted and the reason  why the virus was leaked and used this way. I just wouldn't think the Minister is involved in this goal. However I can see why Channon would be okay with this, he's a victim of the gifted program, he was hurt so the gifted program could not get ruined, his memories were wiped, and he was betrayed for the good of the gifted program by Supot and Pom. Yuth is the same, he's also a victim, has lost the person he loves (if it's Nate) to the discovery of the nyxx88 and the gifted program and he may think it's just producing monsters or evil people who should not be powerful (Supot and the ministry) 

Getting revenge on Supot: The results of Korn's mistake causes Supot to be hunted by the ministry, people are trying to take him down, and he's no longer the director of the gifted program. He's forced into hiding. The Minister can be involved in this goal because he seems to dislike and wants to get rid of Supot (hence why he tells Darin to give him the virus). Channon is a victim of Supot and has been hiding from him for ten years; it's enough reason to want revenge. Yuth has reasons as mentioned before for why he would want to get rid of Supot mostly again if he had feelings for Nate, he would be vengeful for her and won't forgive him for what he created. 

To turn the gifted program into weapons and tools. This is an interesting one. The Minister is easily part of this goal because he sees the gifted as valuable assets and means for great things to come. If he wants power or control having the gifted program disbanded and under his command will help him achieve that. Channon is the anomaly in this as he is actually gifted, he wouldn't have any reasons for wanting to make the gifted more powerful unless he wants more out of his potential, and he wants more control over the program the way Pom has; he may be annoyed at the fact that it was Pom that got to have a good job and took care of the program whilst he's cast aside and forgotten. He may also realise that he wants the gifted to be more superior to humans? Though from season 1, I wouldn't think that's what his goal would be. Yuth also makes sense with this goal. He's extremely intelligent and realistic and probably sees that the gifted can be great weapons and help take over the government. He may have thought Supot was right, but his way of doing things was wrong and too idealistic, and so he feels this way is a better way to make use of the gifted program. He also may secretly be gifted (like I said we're not sure on this) and want to be more superior to people rather than work for them, so he's building an army to take over? 

(This wouldn't explain why the information on the gifted is leaked at the end of this episode apart from the other two theories which are to imbed fear in the public and cause chaos, so the program is wholly ended.)

So you see that after thinking about it so much. Also, the fact that episode 1 focuses on Supot, Nate and Yuth (it even shows the longing for someone and his distaste with the experiment). I think it foreshadows that Yuth is essential, he's not dead, he's hidden somewhere either working with the Minister or being the actual head of the game. Whatever he has up his sleeves he's going to be the foil to Supot, and he's also going to play everyone like a puppet. Let's hope the new generation will stop him. This is if he is actually alive. This is just a theory.

Previous Analysis about Gifted Graduation: Reuniting with Channon

#the gifted graduation #the gifted #gmmtv #thai bl #pangwave #october #halloween #lee thanat #tay tawan #the gifted the series #yuthsupot #cwg #november