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#immortal tutor
dailycharacteroption · 3 months
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Immortal Tutor Technomancer (Technomancer Alternate Class Feature)
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(art by BootsDotEXE on DeviantArt)
Science-fantasy spellcasting may change a lot from the ancient days. Unified theories of magical sources, more robust understanding of the mystic arts, but even in such halcyon future days, there are some things that do not change, and one of those things is that sometimes mages will seek out otherworldly tutors to learn magic.
One part Ars Goetia and/or Lesser Key of Solomon “summon this specific demon or angel to learn about a topic” and another part homage to the witch patrons of Pathfinder, some technomancers seek out cosmic beings to help learn the arts of fusing magic and technology. After all, just as mortals have developed, so too do the cosmos.
However, while it is possible to entreat with fiends for such tutelage, remember that this path is open to all alignments, though the exact nature of the being you call upon will influence what benefits you gain.
I can’t help but imagine technomancers with immortal tutors contacting their patrons for more learning through various hybrid tech methods. Some may set up a rune-etched holoprojector to “summon” their patron. Or perhaps they literally have their patron on speed dial with an eldritch communicator.
While the method varies, their powers are undeniable, as we’ll soon see.
Rather than having a spell cache that lets them cast any one spell they know for free once a day, these mystics can instead cast a specific variable-level spell based on the nature of their tutor once per day, even if it’s not on in their repertoire otherwise. Aeons grant levitation and flight, celestials, elementals, and fiends grant appropriate summons, inevitables enhance projectiles into deadly splitting adamantine-like shots, and proteans grant self-polymorphing.
As they grow in mastery, each tutor provides their first, second, third lessons. The first comes into effect after the caster uses a spell, the second with an expenditure of resolve, and the third grants an additional benefit when the first lesson is triggered.
For aeons, this includes bolstering attacks when you switch damage types regularly, being able to learn a new language for a brief while, and finally gaining a bit of an aeon’s formlessness to avoid critical blows.
Celestials, meanwhile grant a brief defensive ward that only evil can pierce, a sudden burst of insight with a skill, and finally a ward that bolsters the defenses of nearby allies.
Elementals start by granting bolstered movement based on the nature of the elemental patron, flight for air, burrowing for earth, faster land speed for fire, and swimming for water. Next they learn to intensify the damage of their elemental spells, gaining greater than average results. Finally, they can gain resistance to the element in question, electricity or fire for air and fire, and physical resistance for earth and water.
Fiends provide protection only bypassed by good, as well as a magical trick to grow spikes on one’s armor, and finally fiery protection as well as a flash of fiendish malice that leaves foes shaken.
Inevitables teach the caster how to bolster their vitality after casting a spell, take on a mechanical mien to resist harmful effects, and rapidly restore stamina for a short time.
And finally protean tutors teach their casters how to infuse their attacks with chaos, changing the damage type randomly but having slightly better average damage. For their second lesson, They gain some of the ever-changing anatomy of proteans for a short while to reduce the effect of critical blows. Finally, their form becomes fluid after casting, letting them slip through obstacles and avoid attacks and grappling.
As you can see, each tutor type offers different benefits, from the protections offered by celestials to the mobility and damage of elemental tutors. With that in mind, there are a lot of ways to build these technomancers no matter what route you go with. Just know that you have to cast spells or spend resolve to use them, and remember to manage those resources effectively.
Much like the witch patrons of Pathfinder’s yesteryear, coming up with the exact nature of your character’s tutor, as well as the relationship they have with the mage, can be very interesting indeed. Is your tutor a helpful source of advice? Do they require some sort of service for their tutelage? Is their instruction purely transactional?
Additionally, this character option could be a good launching point for homebrew for other outsider types or more specific ones, such as psychopomps or say, demons instead of fiends.
A computer whiz in addition to being a technomancer, Koski has been eager to innovate encryption for the past year. However, the young vlaka has grown increasingly frustrated, as the advice given by his protean tutor, (chosen for their understanding of chaos) results in encrypted files that can no longer be unlocked.
Not all immortal tutors are willing, as is the case with the “diabolus ex machina” method used by technomancers that wish for the insights of devils without the contracts. However, the method has risks, such as when a young mage plugged his binding device into Tageo Station’s main computer and the fiend within utilized a loophole to possess the organic computing components (derived from cerebric fungus buds), resulting in a takeover of the whole station.
Having finished their millenia-long duty guarding the cosmic city of order, an inevitable known as “Pilgrim-Follows the Unending Road” has chosen an active retirement of serving as the tutor for aspiring technomancers. However, technology has evolved considerably in that time, and while they do sometimes offer archaic advice, Pilgrim is trying their best, and is an insightful instructor regardless.
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rarepears · 1 year
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In a shen twins au do you think sy is desperate to protect his brothers reputation so he doesn’t blacken further and give reasons for his imprisonment? Would sy get along with lqg as someone who could protect them against lbh or would be get pissed at this guy who keeps making his brother’s rep worse? Also sy vs sqh trying to steer the plot to stay alive lol
In a Shen twins AU, there's no reason why it can't be Shen Yuan that becomes the Qing Jing peak lord Shen Qingqiu instead of Shen Jiu.
Now, it's not that Shen Yuan was more ambitious or more talented than Shen Jiu. Pft, can you imagine Shen Yuan being that motivated to even pursue the spot of head disciple?!
Nah, instead Shen Yuan got the spotlight just through being Shen Jiu's identical twin. It's precisely Shen Jiu's talents (and hard work, but no one on Qing Jing calls it hard work since that implies any old commoner can be just as skilled as a noble-born child) that caught the eye of the old Qing Jing peak lord and yes, it was Shen Jiu that was the head disciple and the selected successor.
Shen Yuan panicked, okay?! He couldn't let his beloved twin become a human stick. Despite all of his twin's prickly faults, Shen Yuan loved the idiot cactus of a human. So... with his knowledge of PIDW, he might had initiated letters with the imperial palace, traded some of the protagonist's future treasures to earn a couple favors of high ranking eunuchs and then even the fucking emperor himself - surely the protagonist wouldn't be so stingy as to begrudge his biggest fan from helping himself to a couple items? - and that's how Shen Yuan won his brother a position as Grand Tutor (and unofficial advisor) to the Crown Prince.
Normally it was Huan Hua that held such strong ties to the imperial throne; most certainly it wasn't Cang Qiong. Thus, when the previous generation of Cang Qiong heard of all of Shen Yuan's hard efforts winning the sect such a opportunity, they were more than delighted to ship Shen Jiu off to be Grand Tutor instead. After all, there was a ready made replacement (cough Shen Yuan) for Qing Jing!
Was Shen Jiu pissed? Yes.
Did Shen Jiu feel betrayed by his twin? Yes, but only shortly because unlike Yue Qingyuan, Shen Yuan knows the importance of communicating. Well, not that Shen Yuan told the truth; instead, he told his Jiu-ge about how he thought that his very ambitious twin would appreciate the chance and influence to craft future bills and laws and maybe get the ball started on banning slavery... Shen Yuan wasn't ambitious or crafty enough to achieve such a thing, but he knew his twin had the skills!
At the end of the day, Shen Yuan is an excellent bootlicker and his bootlicking complimenting skills work on even Shen Jiu. And with Shen Jiu removed from Cang Qiong, Shen Jiu doesn't blacken further with the false promises of having a "family" of martial siblings in the form of fellow peak lords; Shen Jiu knows from the get go that the imperial government is full of vipers and the importance of reputation when it comes to influencing all the ambitious political ambitions that have awakened inside of him.
[Follow #a shen twins au where shen yuan becomes the qing jing peak lord and shen jiu becomes an imperial tutor to the crown prince for more]
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tenth-sentence · 2 months
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"She's lived forever and knows a lot, and so does Orlene."
"Incarnations of Immortality: And Eternity" - Piers Anthony
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sunderwight · 6 months
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disciple luo binghe, running errands for his shizun one day, somehow manages to be in the exact wrong (right) place at the exact wrong (right) time and catches shang qinghua meeting with mobei jun
in order to keep luo binghe from tattling right away, shang qinghua dissembles in a panic and claims that his clandestine meetings with mobei jun are happening because they're lovers and definitely not because shang qinghua is betraying the sect and handing their secrets over to demons in order to save his own hide. when that almost doesn't work, he also tells luo binghe that he knows he's part demon, and that if luo binghe rats him out then shang qinghua will take him down with him. mutually assured destruction
it works, and even though luo binghe threatens him quite a bit (jeez kid calm down, you might be the almighty protagonist but also you're like sixteen) he agrees to keep shang qinghua's fraternizing a secret. but if ANYTHING BAD should happen to the sect or especially to luo binghe's shizun because of this, luo binghe will take shang qinghua down even if it does ruin his life too
shang qinghua, now sweating even more bullets about the impending immortal alliance conference: cool! cool cool cool sounds great cool yeah
so shang qinghua can add "being blackmailed by the punk ass brat I sort of created" to his list of stress-inducing woes. which gets even worse when luo binghe keeps somehow sensing if mobei jun is around for more than a couple hours and showing up, and picking fights with him?? kind of??
wtf has the protagonist been taking tips from liu qingge or something...?
shang qinghua feels like he's gonna have a heart attack when mobei jun just snorts and tosses luo binghe by the scruff like he's an annoying yappy dog
mobei jun actually knows what's up though. teenage half-demon who has never been around his own kind has become spoiled by the lack of competition on this front, and now his hackles are all up because he wants to claim the whole mountain range as his territory, and his instincts are screaming at him to challenge mobei jun about it so that they can decide who is actually top dog. since mobei jun could easily kill him, especially with his blood sealed, and has been clawing rocks and pissing on trees along the borders of an ding peak since before luo binghe was born, he's clearly got seniority here
and since qinghua doesn't want mobei jun to just kill the little shit (fair enough -- that sealed bloodline does look kind of interesting) that means it's up to mobei jun to teach him how to do things like interact with other demons without making a complete fool of himself. lesson one: what to do when you challenge someone out of your league and they win, assuming they don't just kill you
so luo binghe reluctantly gains another demon tutor
meng mo actually approves. he's been out of the loop on demon high society for a long time, and has lacked a body for long enough too that he's forgotten a lot of the particulars of socializing. it'll be good for luo binghe to pick up some manners that aren't just silly human tea ceremonies and things. maybe he'll start addressing meng mo more respectfully for a change!
(lol no)
luo binghe is partly like "I don't need to learn demon social skills since I'm spending the rest of my life as a disciple of qing jing peak" but partly like, well, if shizun knew about this and didn't freak out about it, he'd probably say that knowledge is power and learning how to handle politics and diplomacy of all kinds is important. and despite himself luo binghe is also interested, because this is a whole perspective on his own nature that he's never really gotten advice about
also, mobei jun is the lover of shang qinghua? mobei jun is a demon who successfully seduced a cang qiong peak lord? does he have any advice about that?
(he does -- all of it very bad)
anyway all of this sort of fucks up the immortal alliance conference developments really good, so the system kind of gives up and settles on some other big transformative achievements that luo binghe has to complete in order to be suitably heroic
but shen qingqiu has no idea and so the reprieve just seems to come out of nowhere until several years later, when he walks in on luo binghe with his claws out and huadian gleaming in the company the demon king of the northern desert, the two of them playing weiqi or something while they wait for shang qinghua to get back from some random logistics crisis he had to rush off to
shen qingqiu: ...?!?
luo binghe, panicking: wait shizun I can explain it's not what it looks like SHIZUN I SWEAR I WAS GOING TO TELL YOU PLEASE DON'T BE MAD--!
shen qingqiu: all this time I thought you were sneaking out to meet a girl, and this was what you were doing instead?!
luo binghe: WHAT?? shizun no I'd never do that I swear I don't even like girls!
shen qingqiu: that's not -- wait what do you mean you don't even like girls?!
mobei jun, unperturbed and still focused on the weiqi board: he's gay
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kuroishuuha · 1 year
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DP x DC prompt - Midnight Muffins and Math HW
An immortal Danny finds himself making a home in Crime Alley
One of the first thing he notices is the disproportionate number of children (babies, they’re just babies) out on the street at night. 
Most Some of these kids look like they haven’t been to school in years.
Most Some of these kids have definitely skipped one too many meals.
Well Danny won’t stand for that.
With full access to the infinite wealth of the Infinite Realms and no longer needing to sleep, Danny opens up a 24-hr library cafe where anyone can come in for a hot meal and access to all sorts of books. He begins offering tutoring for the people who come in and also helps some of the adults apply to jobs. 
Danny definitely cries when one of the older teens tells him they are finishing their GED and applying to college because of him.
Now if only the creep in the red helmet could do something other than stare at him all night.
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vivalabunbun · 8 months
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When It Rains, Why Does It Pour?
Summary: Sand is quite a nuisance, it creeps into every crevice and no amount of dusting can free oneself from its stubborn hold. Yet, the tide still greets the shore.
Word Count: 8.8k (oh no...)
Tags: Neuvillette x GN!Reader, human!reader, SFW, fluff, childhood friends AU, Slow Burn, Slow Fic, Angst, Hurt with Comfort, themes about reincarnation, TW: Themes about death and loss, themes about aging, immortal x mortal AU, not lore accurate, reader is an attendant, human prejudice, Spoilers Warning: His story quest and archon quests, speculations about his past in Fontaine, why is he so mysterious
Authors Note: This was a challenge trying to write from the POV of a man you don't even know the name of, but I just had to write something for him. A character study of Neuvillette. Enjoy!
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How long has it been since he first arrived here? One month? Two? Or perhaps it has already been a year? The young dragon wasn’t too sure.
The days seem to blend together when one only eats, studies, and sleeps all on repeat. A cruel trait of time. The weather outside the glass windows didn’t provide any hints either.
However, he himself is to blame. 
A gray haze concealed azure skies as rhythmic drops of rain hit the earth. Blocking out the all-seeing sun and nurturing moon, the murky clouds above even hinder the stars from accompanying him.
A true reflection of his current solitude. 
The young dragon arrived in the human world, brought over by the lord of Fontaine. Due to the nature of his arrival to this nation, he was given status and importance in the eyes of the citizens. However, he has yet to receive acceptance. 
The grand estate in which he resides was staffed with countless butlers and maids, renowned chefs, and skilled tutors. He was wanting of nothing, yet still impoverished. 
He could see it in their mortal eyes, he could sense it in the tangible silence of the halls, he could tell from the distance each mortal put between themselves and him. 
Much like the towering stone walls which surrounded his private residence.
Was it to separate themselves from him or himself from them?
A question he entertains as lilac eyes scan over the aforementioned wall. Its gray stones are a welcomed change from the dry parchment with even drier content. 
As he observes the drab stones contrast against a dreary sky, a small flash of white cuts through the somber composition.
Catching his lilac eyes as they follow the strange shape, it drifts through the capricious wind before the breeze grew bored and tossed it to the ground.
Studying it a bit further, the young dragon identifies the object as a simple pillowcase. Nothing more than a scrap of fabric. 
He reasons that the wind must’ve stolen it from some clothesline. Just when he was about to return to the legal ledgers a rustling came from the bushes lining the bottom of the wall.
A small frame pushes apart the thick vegetation, creating enough space to finally free themselves from the entangled mess of branches. 
The towering wall, the one meant to separate him from the mortals, was defeated by a mere child.
A child who’s clumsy brushing the twigs from their garments and shaking a few raindrops from their hair. He watches as the small human trots toward the discarded pillowcase, a pout forming on their lips as they observe the mud that had seeped into the silk. 
Judging by the simple attire they don, they must be the child of a maid. 
Ah humans, fickle and temperamental creatures created by the usurpers. It took a conscious effort on his part to stop the frown threatening to appear on his lips.
Seems like he still needs to get used to their presence. 
It was as if the child sensed the bitterness in his thoughts because soon a pair of wide eyes connected with lilac. Even with the sun hiding behind dreary clouds, there was a light that twinkled in their irises. 
It was only for a minute, no, even less than that. But a young dragon and a young human held each other’s gaze. 
The child’s shoulders jolt as they turn their head back toward the wall, as if a voice called for them. Casting one last glance toward the young dragon, the child trots back toward the wall, disappearing within the murky viridescent. 
And that was the end, like the breeze that littered a scrap of fabric among the grass, the small human came and went.
Such fickle creatures, the young dragon gives it one last thought before returning his attention back to a cluttered desk. 
Amongst the soft drumming of droplets came a tap against the glass too sharp to be caused by the gentle rain. Causing the young dragon to turn away from the stacks of books laid out before him.
The wet glass obscured a small flicker of an orange glow, thus he walked closer to investigate. With each step, the figure outside the window became undeciphered.
That small human again. 
Locking eyes with the human outside the glass, the fickle creature’s lips curl up, the glow of their lamp illuminating the curiosity behind their gaze.
A human child doesn’t have the potential to cause much if any harm to him. Thus, he releases the lock, removing the glass barrier separating two breathes. 
“Hello! What is uh… your name?” They chirp out. 
His sharp ears picked up the clumsiness in their speech, the subtle unfamiliarity of the words they spoke. Distinct signs that you were still learning the language of Fontaine, much like him.
Although he understood your question, he was too distracted to answer. Lilac eyes wandering off toward the stone wall. Within the entangled mess of twigs, there was a small parting.
A part just wide enough to reveal the secret the bushes desperately tried to hide: A small hole along the bottom of the stone barrier. Just enough for a small creature to slip through. 
Discovering the truth behind how a small human was able to defeat such a seemingly impenetrable wall. 
The pattering of the rain was interrupted by the rustling of fabric, drawing his attention back to the small human in front of him.
The child rummages through their pockets before pulling out a lump covered by a handkerchief. Peeling back the layer of fabric to reveal some conch madeleines, presenting fragmented sweets before the young dragon. 
“It tastes good, I promise.” A small hand extends itself further through the open window. 
Observing the crumbly sweets laid out upon a handkerchief, the young dragon halted the rejection that almost escaped his lips. Remembering the concepts he had just been reading before this.
Humans tend to follow a set of unwritten rules, principles they like to call ‘manners’. There weren’t any punishments issued by law if those rules were broken, no imprisonment or fines.
However, narrow-eye stares and whispers behind backs were the punishments issued to transgressors by society. 
So, he accepts a piece, trying to ignore the sand-like sensation against his tongue. As he chewed, the grin on the human’s face only got wider.
“Now that you’ve taken one, you have to give me your name, it’s only uh… fair!” 
Ah, it looks like he’s been tricked. Falling into the clumsy sugar-coated trap only a child could come up with. Yet, as his lilac gaze caught the twinkle still ever so bright in their eyes, he didn’t have the strength to form a frown. 
Just a curious human child, only as dangerous as a firefly buzzing in his ear. There shouldn’t be any harm in disclosing the surname bestowed upon him by this nation.
“Neuvillette.” He finally said his first words to you. 
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A peculiar pattern is recurring. That rainy night when Neuvillette opened those windows, it looked like he welcomed a phenomenon in as well. 
Even in his current state, a small human like you could pose no possible threat to him. Thus, whenever a certain tap was placed against the glass. He saw no reason to turn away the visitor. Allowing you to climb in through his window time and time again.
It would’ve been better if you used the door. However, he’s aware of the complications such a request would bring.
Perhaps it’s because he’s currently in the form of a young child, sharing a similar stature to yours. From his observations, humans do have a tendency to gravitate toward those with similar traits. Or perhaps, you’re just exceptionally brazen. 
Neuvillette glances up from his book, thick with endless sentences describing obscure and frivolous laws, landing on your frame lazing around upon a rug.
One hand holds onto a collection of fables, pages illuminated by the gentle rays of a star. While the other periodically reaches out toward a pile of conch madeleine.
A sight he’s come to expect now. 
Lavender eyes follow your hand as it brings another one of the crumbly sweets to your mouth again. You brought them over under the pretense of sharing them with him, yet they’re already half gone. The only hand reaching for the sweets being yours.
Just like how it was last time, and the time before that, and the one before that as well. 
If you felt this complacent in his presence now, then perhaps he can be more candid with you. As is common practice among humans to present a polite front that gradually wears away each recurring meeting. 
“You do not have to bring over any more conch madeleine.” 
The moment those words left his lips the motion of your hand halted, looking up to connect your sight with his, confusion pinching together your brows.  
“Oh? Why so suddenly?” The collection of fables now resting on the rug. 
It’s already been done, the first ripple in the frangible water between you and him. There is nothing that can cease the waves that accompany the first breach. He might as well say the whole truth. 
“They are dry, I cannot fathom how you can bring yourself to eat them.” Prescriptive eyes caught a faint flinch as you processed his edict.
“They taste fine to me…” You mutter, picking another one up. 
This time you chewed slower. The pinch between your brow only grew as you tasted the sweet again, searching for the perceived flaw.
As you met his gaze once more, he could tell your search brought forth no fruitful conclusions. Thus you asked another question in response.
“Then what do you like?”
Besides the pleasantries commonly exchanged between humans in Fontaine, Neuvillette recognizes he lacks the talent for small talk.
The room usually filled with your grievances about whichever tedious task you were assigned before you slipped away behind a wall and into his private residence. Ambient noise which accompanied each flip of a law book. 
It is long overdue for him to pull his weight in a conversation. 
“Water, spring water.”
“Huh?”
Neuvillette repeats his sentence but the scrunch of your brows doesn’t ease up, he couldn’t fight the urge to draw in a deep breath. So this is the limitation of the human palate, how regrettable. 
“Perhaps you are still too simple to appreciate the qualities of water.” 
The pout upon your crumb-covered lips morphs into a tight line, sealing away your voice.  The brightly printed cover of a storybook was shut as the last few remaining treats were bundled away in a napkin. 
Your tea break ended early today, impassive eyes following your figure as it disappeared among the thick vegetation beside a stone barrier. 
It was quiet today, not even a single parting uttered past your sealed lips. Therefore leaving the conversation unfinished. 
But that is today, you’ll have another tea break tomorrow, and you’ll come to him with your grievances about chores tomorrow as well. 
The young dragon returns his focus to the text in front of him. 
The soft hymn of raindrops against a glass window reverbed through the solitary study, providing a melody for the periodic flips of paper. But the melody was hollow, incomplete.
Shifting his body to look behind himself at the vacant rug, Neuvillette deduces why. The accompaniment was missing. 
That tomorrow he had come to expect never came. 
Had he committed a transgression? Overstep a line outside his place? Food is a point of pride for many humans, one oddity he’s yet to grasp.
These temperamental creatures tend to lash out when their pride is wounded, much like how a beast reacts to an unhealed cut. 
Neuvillette was curious as to whether this was an inherent trait of humanity or a learned by-product of the fickle principles imposed on themselves.
However, observing the abandoned storybook tucked away, the young dragon is leaning towards the former. 
Turning back to face his desk, his eyes could only glaze over the monotonous scribbles. Perhaps the cause of his spiritless attitude was disappointment, disappointment in himself. 
It looks like he was careless, deluding himself with the misconception that you and him were alike. Two outsiders who found solace in each other’s presence.
However, this was false. You were an outsider to Fontaine, but he was an outsider to this world where humans walked. 
He’s still too naive.
Fickle and temperamental creatures spoiled by the usurpers at the expense of his ancestors.
Why did he even entertain the thought that you and him could ever be alike?
Something stirred from within, like when pebbles were thrown into still water, but what were those pebbles? As Neuvillette ponders this conundrum, the drumming of the rain grows louder. 
However, it wasn’t loud enough to swallow up the sharp set of taps which interrupted his somber reflection. Jolting him from his thoughts, snapping his attention to the source of the noise.
There stood a figure distorted by the wet glass as another set of sharp taps sounded through the room. 
Before Neuvillette could even process it, his body moved without his command. Unlatching the lock and setting the window free from its frame.
Not sparing another second to the raindrops soaking into their cloak, the figure clambers through the window with practiced proficiency.
Without uttering a single greeting, not even one pleasantry, you situated yourself on his floor. Melting into an undignified lump on the pristine tiles as bewildered eyes watched you.
After catching a few breaths, an explanation finally makes its way to his ears. 
“T-they… they patched… up the hole,” you huffed out between short breaths. 
Ah, the small cavity in the stone wall that you used to escape from chores. Looks like the security at the estate finally noticed.
Gauging the height of the wall from his place by the window, he’s aware of how it towers over both him and you the same.
This brings up another question as he returns to observe your frame, still trying to catch the breaths that evade you. 
“I… ran… through the gates… before the… Gardes noticed…” Exhaustion evident in your eyes as pants break up your sentence. 
Ah, looks like his question was answered before he even inquired. To be puzzled or amazed, he wasn’t too sure how to categorize this ripple inside him.
The tomorrow that’s been missing for a little more than two weeks, is now right in front of him.
Panting and leaving a few muddy traces along the marble floor, but here nonetheless. 
With one deep motion of your lungs, you pushed your body up, finally getting ahold of your breath. The familiar rustle of your pocket, the audio cue for a certain dry sweet to appear. Neuvillette didn’t mind in the least.
Perhaps, he can bear the sandy sensation just for today. But tomorrow is always filled up with surprises, a glass bottle finding its way out of your pocket instead of sugary treats. 
“What is that?” An obvious question, but his voice found its way out of his mouth.
“Water, water from the servant’s well, I bottled it myself.” A small hand holds the bottle out more. 
“Thank you,” Neuvillette accepts it into his hands. 
He should really acquire some glasses to pour the water out into, it’s improper and bad manners to drink from the bottle.
However, his curiosity was greater. Or maybe, he didn’t realize just how parched he had become from waiting for tomorrow. 
Uncapping the clumsily packaged water, he takes a generous sip. 
“It’s sweet.” His tongue picking up on a subtle saccharine undertone. 
“Really?” Your hand reaches up as that familiar shine illuminates your eyes. 
Taking a sip from the bottle passed back into your grasp, your brows furrowing in concentration. Another sip was taken from the bottle as you continued to search for the sweetness in the water you’ve always drank.
A sight that tugged up at the lips of a boy still studying the shape of your quirked brows. 
Humans, fickle, perplexing, yet astoundingly curious creatures from the very beginning.
If he is to walk amongst the human world, then it’s best for him to be equally curious. To try and search for the harmony between two different breaths. 
A child of a maid far from their homeland. A status too insignificant to warrant the attention of Fontaine's factions, freeing you from their prying eyes and entanglements.
Therefore, it should be alright for him to continue observing you, no?
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“Ahh… The rain is so unpredictable here in Fontaine, trying to hang out the wash here is always a gamble.” You sink further into the plush cushions of his settee. 
As the sun rose and fell, as the leaves grew green then gold, as the ground froze and thawed.
One thing remained unchanged throughout these cycles even as they repeated: your grievances over chores. 
The frequency of these complaints reaching his ears has increased, on the part that you now took over more of your mother’s responsibilities in managing the laundry of this estate. 
Besides your habitual complaints of the weather, one detail didn’t escape Neuvillette’s hearing: your proficiency in the Fontainian language has increased significantly.
Words no longer spoken clumsily or with unfamiliarity. Accent nearly indistinguishable from a native speaker. 
“The people here are fond of creating strange machinery, why can’t they make something to dry clothes?” You resume. 
The quill in his hand stops as he pauses in the middle of a sentence, glancing over his shoulder toward your slouching figure making yourself comfortable in the sofa that’s more familiar with your shape than his. 
“Perhaps you should be the one to create it, studying might do you some good as well,” came his curt response. 
His candid advice makes you sink further into the cushions with a groan. 
“I’d rather travel than study those jumbled-up books about machinery or whatever, in fact, I want to visit my homeland as soon as I can,” you grumble aloud. 
Ah, that’s right, you’re approaching the age where you could travel freely.
By law, you won’t be bound to the side of your mother, not needing any permission to come to and fro however you wish. No longer kept at this estate washing and folding sheets.
Indeed, you and him found yourselves in similar situations: on the cusp of freedom from this estate. 
While he was deep in thought, you filled the silence left behind by posing a question to him. 
“Do you plan on visiting your homeland anytime soon, Neuvi?” 
By now, the young dragon had stopped expending the effort to try and correct you in your butchering of his surname. Your reason being ‘it’s too long’.
Alongside you, he has grown in stature as well, elapsing you some time ago much to your dismay. If he wished to travel, not much would pose a problem to the young dragon.
However… where could he return to? A homeland… was there a section of his homeland untouched by the usurpers? If he were to go, would he ever want to return to this world?
Sensing the change in the air, dreary clouds blocking the sun’s rays from your skin, you were perceptive enough to ramble about a different matter.
Namely, how the chef of the estate recently changed the type of flour used in the kitchens, resulting in pastries and sweets that were less airy but more flavorful. 
Explaining to him the subtle improvements and deterioration in the quality of some baked goods. Filling the air of the study with bright-eyed ramblings until rays of light peek out from waning clouds. 
“Monsieur Neuvillette! It’s been a while since you’ve visited!” Soft patters of skipping steps made their way to the tall man. 
Tilting his sights down, Neuvillette greets the cheery melusine with a gentle smile which she returned with an equally bright grin.
While on a routine stroll along the riverbanks to stretch his legs after a long day, he found himself at the entrance of Merusea Village.
He wonders if it's his body’s natural response to get away from the Palais Mermonia and Opera Epiclese. 
Carrying him toward the direction of a secluded reprieve he discovered far away from the suspicious eyes of weary humans.
Condemnatory eyes were constantly pinned to the back of the young dragon who had recently emerged from a sheltered estate to sit in the grand seat of a Chief Justice. 
Days filled with nothing but a cacophony of voices echoing off the opera house walls. Screams from the accused and the eager murmurs of spectators blended into nothing more than a chaotic din in his ears. 
Gazing deeper into the small lake, the unsuspecting entrance to a hidden haven that the Melusines called home.
It would only take a moment, just one dip into the pristine water for him to disappear from the clamorous mortal realm.
Abandoning the overly grand seat of his post as easily as it would take for his head to vanish under the tranquil tide.
How great would it be to exist in the presence of creatures who could resonate with his own adriftness?
Maybe, he could finally discover the purpose of his current form and longevity in their company. Yes, that sounds about right. 
Just as the water wet the tip of his overly ornate shoe, all motion his body stills at a familiar call. 
“NEUVI!” Came a voice from just over the beaten path. 
Soon your silhouette follows the echo of your call, steps hurried yet worn.
When the young dragon departed from his temporary estate and into the Palais Mermonia, a certain specter followed him as well.
The same specter who’s currently huffing to catch their breath after such a rush. Trying to gather enough air to form their next sentence. 
“There you are! The grand tailor sent me to fetch you because you’re almost an hour late to the fitting of your new robe, they need to make sure the measurements are correct,” you chide. 
The exasperation of your words was most definitely caused by the fact you had to physically exert yourself in your search for the wandering Chief Justice. Evident by the pout on your lips and scrunched nose. 
His attention was quickly torn away from your recuperating figure by a faint tug of his slacks.
The Melusine had hidden herself behind his legs, creating a barrier between her and the strange mortal who seemingly appeared from the blue.
Her sudden movement caught your attention as well. 
Ah, that’s right. The Melusines have yet to be acquainted with humans, and humans with Melusines.
Two different species, two different breaths, and two different sets of eyes that can’t seem to see directly into each other. 
If his time within the wall of the estate and Palais Mermonia had proven anything, it would be the natural adversity humans had to differences.
Neuvillete certainly wasn’t prepared for such an event, nor was he sure how to handle it. 
In the midst of his inaction, your hand reached into your pocket, fumbling around before pulling out a handkerchief-covered lump.
Despite the soreness in your legs, you lowered your body until you were at eye level with the shorter Melusine. 
“Hello there, would you like some conch madeleines?” Unraveling the fabric to reveal the sweets which you seem to have an abundant supply of. 
The grip on his slacks tightened as she glanced up at him, lilac eyes catching the hesitance in her irises. Neuvillette gives a subtle nod, giving just enough reassurance for the small creature to release his pant leg.
Reaching a mitten-like hand toward the golden sweets, it only took one bite for the hesitance in her eyes to be replaced by a bright twinkle. 
“It’s tasty isn’t it?” Your lips formed a wider grin.
The Melusine responds with an eager nod, too occupied with bringing more of the buttery treat into her mouth.
At the sight of her restless chewing covering her cheeks with faint crumbs, you let out a giggle.  
“I’ll give you the rest of the sweets if you tell me your name,” you offered. 
After a few moments of the Melusine finishing her previous bite, she falls for the same trap he had many years ago. 
“My name is Carole!” She chirps. 
“What a wonderful name.” Your gaze softened further as you held out the treats, keeping your promise. 
As Carole reaches for more, she glances back up. Wide eyes twinkling as she inquires him with the one thought currently on her mind.
“Monsieur Neuvillette, does the human world have more treats as delicious as these?”
Ah, it looks like the stroll Neuvillette took today to relieve himself of mounting troubles only led him to more. 
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The skies over the Court of Fontaine have been in a pensive stalemate, all too familiar clouds blocking azure hues. However, rain has yet to patter on the ground, as if the weather was unsure of itself. 
A feeling shared by the Chief Justice currently sitting at his desk, reviewing the details of the day’s trials. Albeit, half heartily. 
Much like the skies crowded with clouds, in the solitude of his office, his mind rang loud with thoughts. Neuvillette only had himself to blame for the current silence of his office, it’s been this way for around a week going on two now. 
Lilac eyes peered over the tops of the papers toward the shut doors, concealing him away. There hasn’t been a knock on those doors for some time now, due to the diligent Melusines who followed his request.
Turning away potential visitors with crafted excuses of ‘The Chief Justice is handling a very important case’ or ‘My apologies, but the Chief Justice is very busy’. 
Neuvillette recognizes that he’s currently no different than a child hiding away from the consequences of a broken vase. 
How childish, he chides himself as he returns back to his responsibilities. How would the citizens of Fontaine react to their Chief Justice conducting himself in such a manner?
He’s sure if Lady Furina were to catch wind of his behavior, she’d be greatly entertained. 
As if the mere mention of the nation’s archon presented a bad omen, the sturdy doors of his office swung open, revealing the face of a familiar visitor who’s been turned away one too many times. 
“My my, it’s been quite some time since I’ve seen the inside of this office, I almost forgot what it looks like,” you remark as your eyes hone in on him. 
The child’s hiding place under the bed has been exposed. 
“Good afternoon, I was not made aware you had any appointments with me.” Neuvillette’s own eyes trail past yours. 
From behind the door frames the figures of two Melusines quickly dodged away from his sight. A silent admission of guilt on their part, and Neuvillette didn’t have to look hard to deduce the crime they’ve committed: Accepting bribes. 
The evidence was right there in the form of buttery crumbs left on the corner of their mouths. Ah, you and with those conch madeleines of yours. 
It’d be best for him to finally handle the situation at hand, one he’s been trying to maneuver out of. 
“If I recall correctly, you were granted a vacation, why not take this chance to travel? It certainly is a prime opportunity-”
“Why have you been avoiding me, Monsieur?” you cut through the long-winded pleasantries and excuses. 
His lips press together, by now he’s well accustomed to your brazenness. However, the absence of a familiar name only said in your voice made the guilt weigh heavier on his shoulders.
Guilt which originated a few weeks prior. 
On a secluded riverbank, a routine walk under clear skies was halted. You were knelt down on the ground, uncaring of the sand sticking to the fabric of your clothes, as you held a Melusine between your arms. Two mittened hands clung to you as she soaked your shoulder with tears. 
“W-why? Why did he have to go?” Her sobs interrupted by sudden hiccups. 
As you rubbed circles into her back, something he saw humans do to soothe their crying young, Neuvillette watched from the side. Much like how he would observe those performances within the Opera Epiclese. 
Liath is her name, a diligent Melusine who patrolled the grounds of the Palais Mermonia. By her side, there would be a guard poodle who’d matched her skips with his prances. An inseparable duo, or it’d be more accurate to say, they were once an inseparable duo. 
Dogs are a species domesticated by humans, some might argue that they were created by humanity through generations of selection. So it stands to reason that they too would have a limited lifespan.
In fact, they have a lifespan even more restricted than that of the mortals who tamed them. 
The Melusines have just begun walking amongst humans, there were still many aspects their sheltered minds have yet to grasp. The fleetingness of mortality is one of them. 
Thus, Neuvillette did his best to caution them. 
However, just like how laws can’t completely stop crimes, his words can’t completely prevent such tragedies. All he could do was try.
“I’m sorry for your grief, this was the very reason why I cautioned you against getting too attached to him… A dog’s life is brief-”
“Monsieur Neuvillette.” 
The sentence died at the tip of his tongue as his eyes met yours. Gaze narrowed and brows furrowed, not even the Chief Justice dared to interject any further.
After you silenced him, your focus returned back to the grieving Melusine. 
Slowly standing back up from the ground, her frame cradled in your arms as her sobs continued. 
“I know it hurts,” you whispered, one hand patting her back, setting a steady rhythm reminding her to breathe. 
“B-but why? W-why is it so sad?” she hiccuped. 
You hummed, beginning to bounce her a bit within your hold. 
“Wouldn’t it be sadder if you never met him?” 
At your question, the Melusine stares at you through teary eyes. Expression lined with confusion. 
“To have loved him, and for him to have loved you in return…isn’t that enough?” You cooed, taking steps away from the riverbank. 
Still frozen in his place, the dragon could only stare at your back as it grew further and further away, soon disappearing from his view. 
He had misspoke.
Neuvillette recalled last Autumn. As the vivid hues of the foliage shriveled up to nothing more than a shadow of their former beauty, you laid your mother to rest. Burying her in a cemetery which overlooked the direction of your homeland.
His unsolicited reprimand must have been throwing salt into a wound that still bled. He had overstepped his authority. 
Murky clouds congregated in the once clear sky. 
Those were the events that transpired, events that have led to the current stalemate happening in his office. Lilac eyes couldn’t seem to find the courage to connect with yours. Another excuse finding its way to his tongue. 
“Didn’t you want to visit your homeland?”
“Oh?” Your brow quirks up, as your hands find their way to your hips. 
“And then who’d be here to repair the tears in your robe when you inevitably step on them?” Obviously unimpressed by his suggestion. 
“Surely there are other talented tailors here that can handle the task,” he rebukes. 
“Oh? Will they also untangle your hair from the ornamentation of chairs?” You press on.
“I can manage.”
“Then can the Chief Justice also manage all the uniforms for the Melusines? Can he sew every button and ensure they fit correctly?” 
Ah, with your last statement, Neuvillette concedes. A hush fills the room. 
The Melusines are still new to walking amongst humans, not many were willing to tailor specialized uniforms for their short stature. Thus, you took up the mantle. 
Perhaps out of a sense of responsibility, it was you who stirred their curiosity with those sweets of yours. 
It seems responsibilities tethered you to the Court of Fontaine, much like they did to him. After a few breaths, as always, your voice shatters the stalemate. 
“I’m not upset, Neuvi.”
With those words, his lilac eyes finally connect with yours. Finally able to see the soft curls at the corners of your lips.
It indeed has been a while since he last saw such a sight.
This time instead of replying with an excuse, he responds with a gentle hum. 
“Ugh, why are your curtains so dusty? When was the last time you went outside?” It wasn’t long before your attention returned to the state of his office. 
Strolling past his desk, your hands began to fuss with the thick drapes. Pouting at the dust that coated the lush fabrics.
All Neuvillette could do was follow with his gaze, papers long pushed to the side as for the first time in a while, an azure hue was seen peeking through the clouds. 
From his observations, it’s instinctive for humans to avoid pain. However, it’d be hypocritical of him to judge mortals for actions he’s been guilty of. 
“If I knew I had to work this hard now, I would’ve skipped more chores back at the estate,” you chuckle, pulling back the drapes to allow gold to illuminate his office.
To have loved and have been loved in return.
Was this the human rationale behind taming a dog? Having the reality of the future constantly lurking over each happy moment as the hands of time tick forward.
Why do humans dote on pets? Creatures that only live a fraction of a mortal life? 
Are happy memories a fair exchange for bitter grief, or are they the cure? 
As Neuvillette counts the strands of peeking silver that mingle within your lush locks, he prays he finds the answer soon. 
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The clacks of ornate shoes reverberate down once unfamiliar halls, a towering figure lurks past bustling nurses who bow their heads at the sight of the Chief Justice as he passes by.
With a body like his, there is no reason for him to wander among these halls. Or more accurately, there once was no reason. 
The taps of his soles slowed as a familiar door came into view, the only detail which differentiated it from the rest of the hall being the brass numbers displayed. Bringing up a glove-clothed knuckle, delicate taps were placed against the wood.
Almost immediately, a muffled ‘come in’ resounded behind the frame. Granting the Iudex permission to turn the polished knob, allowing him entry as the hinges sang their welcome.
“My, my, if it isn’t Monsieur Neuvillette, to whom do I owe the pleasure?” A grin spreads across your face, crinkling the corners of your eyes. 
Instantly his frame stiffens in the midst of returning the door to its frame. Bringing his free hand up to his face, Neuvillette coughs as to compose himself once more.
“Please, forgo the formalities.” 
Though your eyes might not be as sharp as they once were, the delicate dusting of pink along his pointed ears couldn’t escape their sight. Making your eyes crinkle more.
Feeling entertained enough, you cease your teasing and gesture toward the vacant chair beside your bed.
Obediently, his towering figure strides up to the seat, the wood squeaking under his weight as he settles onto it. 
By now, the dragon has grown accustomed the structure of greetings, beginning with a layer of pleasantries. 
“How have you been fairing?” Lavender eyes scrutinize the sheets and pillows, searching for any unapparent flaws. 
“It’s just a mild case of pneumonia,” you muse aloud. 
Momentarily resting his eyes behind a slow blink, all he could do was sigh at your brazen nonchalantness. Yet with a ghost of a smile on the same lips that sighed.
It was a mild case of pneumonia, a common ailment during the frosty months. For someone as steadfast as you, such an illness might’ve surrendered to your stubbornness. 
It might've surrendered… if your body had remained as it once was.
How unfortunate it all is, that time is so cruel to mortal creatures.
Attentive eyes detailing each crease that settled by your lips, remnants of the many grins and laughs that stretched your face. 
The basking light of a selfish star catches in your hair, lush hues that have faded to brilliant ivory. A shade that you often compare to his while jesting, ‘We match now’.
However, Neuvillette begs to differ, the sunlight is much more luminous in your tresses.
Trailing his sights back to your gaze. Deep lines formed by countless dynamic expressions drew attention to the glimmer forever present in your irises. Like paths on a map that led lilac eyes to yours. 
“How are you finding your stay?” At times, Neuvillette found himself wondering how the azure tides appeared from your view. 
“Mm, quite uneventful, eating, staring out a window, sleeping.” 
He hums in response, contemplating if he should inquire you about such subjects. As you ramble, perhaps the dragon could grasp onto an inkling of understanding. 
“Well, at least I can say that my stay has been anything but lonely.” Your eyes motioning toward a corner. 
The bland, sterile wall overshadowed by a mass comprised of trinkets ranging from local flowers to any object whose surface catches light.
The heap grows day by day as each Melusine continues to bring their earnest gratitude to the human who sew each stitch of their coats. A sight that could stir even the most placid lake.
“They’re such sweethearts.” Each one of your words coated with endearment. 
Once more, all the dragon could respond with was a mellow hum. Slow breaths fill the complacent silence between two species, one blessed by time and one shunned by it.
Neuvillette has grown accustomed to the structure of conversations but, alas, he still has no talent for small talk.
In the absence of dialogue, the layer of short pleasantries long dissolving, Neuvillette is left with nothing but his inquiries. It was all he had left, and so it was all he could offer. 
“Are there any regrets you hold?” 
“Oh oh? Getting sentimental so out of the blue, Neuvi?” A familiar quirk graces your brow. 
“It’s nothing of the sort, just a musing that drifted in my mind during a stroll, I wish to know your thoughts on the matter.” 
“Mmm… I don’t feel that I have any regrets, living an honest life and having the fortune to never have stepped foot in the Fortress of Meropide.” 
“Is that really all? You never did get to travel like you dreamed of back at the estate.” 
“Haha, trying to stump me with that, Neuvi?” you chuckle. 
Relaxing more into the pillows which propped up your weary frame, you trail your sights toward the window. 
“Didn’t I tell you already? I’ll have plenty of time to travel once I become a cloud, I can go everywhere the sky can reach.” Smile softening on your lips. 
Neuvillette’s folded hands grasp one another tighter on his lap, his own lips pressing each other into a thin line.
The conversation was teetering closer and closer to the unspoken reality looming like a shadow in the room. 
He wasn’t sure when it started, maybe when the first silver strands appeared in your hair or when you discovered his skin won’t wrinkle along with you.
He wasn’t sure when your adamant belief of becoming a cloud once the shadow came to claim you started. 
Neuvillette wonders if this daydream was the product of those fables you browsed when you laid upon a plush rug.
Or was it your personally crafted fable to explain the incomprehensible to a creature who couldn’t fully grasp it?
A creature whose skin didn’t wrinkle, whose bones didn’t grow brittle. A creature seemingly untouched by time.
Fairytales do serve this purpose for children, magical fantasies to make uncomfortable realities palatable to naive minds. 
“...vi?... Ne…?... Neuvi.” 
A hand marred with age takes hold of one glove-clad hand, and a pleasant heat radiates through the leather. Coaxing Neuvillette’s attention back from its escapade. 
“My apologies, I was lost in thought for a moment.” He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. 
But the frown weighing down on your lips didn’t disappear, much like how retreating into musings couldn’t wash away any shadows.
Your chest moves with a deep inhale. 
“Maybe I do have one regret,” you began. 
Readjusting your ailing fingers in his hold so that he could hold them with equal endearment, his ears concentrate on your voice. 
“Actually, I have many,” you sigh. 
Before he could formulate a response, you continued. 
“I wish I could have shoulder the burdens you carry. I wish you would’ve shared them with me. And I wish I could even understand them, then maybe I could have understood you more.” Turning to face him, your disheartened eyes center on his frame. 
A child born from a maid, a maid who traveled to Fontaine in hopes of a better future for her child. That was your origin, an outsider with neither fame nor fortune.
Thus, even as you followed him from a secluded estate to the grand Palais Mermonia, you could never follow him in status nor influence. 
As unrest grew, as injustices mounted, and as tragedies took away friends.
All you could do was repair tears, sew buttons, and pour him a crisp glass of spring water as you waited for the storm to wash despair away.  
That was how you saw it. But Neuvillette rebukes that notion. 
The dignity of a newly established Chief Justice, who kept stepping on his overly ornate robes, was carefully maintained by you.
The Melusine’s uniforms, which solidified their presence in the human world, were crafted by you.
The patient hand that always offered silent comfort in the suffocating courts was yours. 
Standing by his side, even as your bones grew to ache, to ensure the storm would pass and the sun emerge once more. 
“You’ve done more than enough.” He states the truth, grasping your hand just a bit tighter. 
“Are you sure?” Those airy chuckles of yours made their appearance again. 
“I never even learned your real name,” you interject.
A knife, red hot and fresh from the forge, would have hurt less than the guilt which tore through him at that moment.
The Chief Justice, the symbol of honesty and conviction, is unable to tell the simplest truth.
What shall he do now?
The power of a name is often underestimated, the exchanging of names signifying the forging of a bond. One that would forever tether him to you and you to him.
Oh, what shall he do now? 
Before his hesitant lips could take action, they were halted by a squeeze from your ailing grasp. Firm and warm, like a light that guides him up from the bottom of a turbulent ocean. 
“You don’t have to tell me now, Neuvi, tell me when I come back from my trip.” Those gentle eyes of yours smile at him.
Reeling his hand in closer to you with your own, until the softness of your lips was felt along covered knuckles.
A common practice in Fontaine, one Neuvillette had witnessed time and time again as he passed the lovers who congregated by the Fountain of Leucine. Actions that dedicated promises to one another. 
“I swear, once I’ve traveled enough, once I grow bored of foreign scenery, I’ll fall back down like rain to your side.” You whisper into the kiss.
It was his turn now, and he shall honor this ritual. Tenderly bringing in your hand to him, Neuvillette places his oath.
“Then I swear, when you return, I’ll tell you my name.” He whispers in the kiss.
The sterile rooms echo your airy chuckles as he keeps your hand close to himself for just a bit longer. 
“Mmm… Where I should go first? Maybe I’ll just amble about,” you ponder aloud. 
Gracing him with a smile which stretched your face and brought that familiar glimmer into your eyes.
“I wish you well on your travels.” Neuvillette presses another kiss into your knuckles. 
Spring was always the rainy season for Fontaine, with gentle temperate showers to welcome the budding blooms back from their Winter sleep.
However, this year the torrential downpour was anything but gentle. 
Planned trips canceled for the season, clothes remaining damp in baskets, and streets empty of their vigor. Even the Melusines couldn’t bring a skip to their steps.
It was as if time itself was slowed by the burdensome downpour. 
The cawing of crows as their wings beat against the dreary winds adds to the lonely hymn sung by the raindrops.
At once the cadence of the rain increased, the downpour growing heavier, and the violent pattering grew deafening. As if the sky was now belting out their sorrowful ballad. 
The rain could try. The skies can cry all they would like. But time, a cruel and unforgiving mistress, won’t ever stop. 
To have loved and been loved, was it truly enough? 
In Neuvillete’s eyes, he was the tide and you were the shore. The ebb and flow of water as the tide and shore met, time and time again. 
Each crash into the shore stirred up something perplexing and disorderly within the tide, irritating like the sand that mixed into the pristine waves.
So the tide tried to retreat into the lonesome ocean. 
Each time, the shore followed through grains of sand which the tide couldn’t ever seem to purge himself of. 
Each time, the shore beckoned the tide to return to the sandy beaches of humanity filled with perplexities and disorder. 
And each time, the tide surrendered to the call of the shore, lured in by its warmth. 
But now, the shore has eroded away.
Where does the tide go now?
Drifting now in the vastness of a lonesome ocean, carrying nothing grains of sand. What shall the tide do now?
Neuvillette still has a lot to learn, for he couldn’t answer this riddle conjured by his own mind. 
Unable to stop himself, the lone dragon stares off into the rain.
Eyes honing in the direction of a peaceful hill, one where a mother and child were laid to rest side by side overlooking a homeland they never got to visit.
Maybe that was the first destination of your journey. 
During these past short years spent in this land, the young successor of the dragons has gained traitorous knowledge. One that undermines his preconceived purpose. 
Neuvillette feels he’s grasped onto the faintest inkling of why humans, as fickle, perplexing, and fleeting as they are, were still the most beloved creatures of the gods. 
Perhaps, he even understands now why those usurpers were willing to uproot the earth just for those beloved creatures. 
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The wet season transitions into the dry season, then the dry season will transition into another wet season. Again and again, on and on as the hands of a clock ticks forward.
Each new tick signifies another step forward in the march of time.
Each step brings change and each step pulls the present away from the past. 
The rainy season of Spring was no longer as troublesome as it once was, as there was now a machine on the market that could dry clothes without the help of a bright star.
Melusines skip along down the paved paths of the Court of Fontaine as humans turn to greet them with endearing smiles.
New cafes line bustling streets as Clockwork Mekas make their evening patrols. 
A great many changes have come to Fontaine, Neuvillette witnessed them all from his office at the Palais Mermonia.
A great many changes, yet some things are bound to stay the same. For example, the Chief Justice’s fondness for strolls along vacant riverbanks. 
The gentle patters of raindrops lull the chaotic sympathy of trials, paperwork, and duties to a standstill. Reaching a hand out in front of him, Neuvillette catches a few drops in the palm of his gloved hand.
Lilac eyes examine the diminutive puddle in his hand before ultimately releasing the water back to the earth. 
He supposes he’s been feeling a bit nostalgic as of late, like a child recalling a story which once soothed them to a peaceful slumber. How childish it was for him to believe he could somehow catch a certain raindrop in his hands.
Turning up toward the drab sky, he searches through the endless and identical droplets that fall down and leave trails along his face. 
No, not yet. Perhaps they have yet to see all that the sky has to offer. 
Neuvillette returns his focus to the path in front of him. The rhythmic clacks of his shoes match with the soft drumming of the rain, and in the midst of this harmony a voice singings out:
“Hydro dragon… uh… Hydro dragon, don’t cry.”
Halting his stride. Judging by the unfamiliarity of their tongue pronouncing the lullaby, Neuvillette deduces they must be a visitor to Fontaine.
Ah that local legend, just how far has it spread? Nevertheless, an unfortunate traveler who’s unfamiliar with Fontaine’s seasons is now caught in this rain. 
It would only be polite to offer them some assistance as the Iudex of this nation. Thus, he turns in the direction of the call.
His suspicions were confirmed once his gaze landed on a distressed frame, their face obscured by the jacket they held over their head in a makeshift umbrella. 
It only took a few steps for the towering man to make it to their side.
“There is a tree you can take shelter under just ahead,” he advises the lost traveler.  
Now aware of his presence in front of them, they lifted the jacket from their line of sight to peer up at him. Revealing the details of their face to lilac eyes for the first time.
That was all it took for the symphony of rain to come to an end.
Soft drumming decrescendos into tranquility. It seems as if there will be an earlier welcome of flowers.  
“Oh?” You gaze up at the azure hue now peeking out from receding gray, astonishment reflected in the glimmer of your eyes. 
You’ve only heard of a local Fontainian legend from a guide pamphlet offered to tourists as you awaited the Aquabus.
When the rain suddenly began to pour as you ambled about a riverside, in a moment of desperation as you scrambled for shelter under a thin jacket you uttered the phrase.
You weren’t sure if the hydro dragon could understand your botched pronunciation, but it looks like he did.  
 Turning back to face the kind stranger, you wanted to convey your amazement to him. But the words fade just off the tip of your tongue when you peek back at the towering man.
Your eyebrows scrunch together as dumbstruck eyes widen at the sight of the drenched man.
“Mister?… Are you alright?” You scan over him, turning your attention away to sift through your pockets. 
How bewildering it must be for you to witness a well-dressed and noble figure drenched to the bone. However, Neuvillette made no attempt to stop the rivulets rolling down his cheeks, a parting gift from the Spring showers. 
He wonders as his gaze never left your frame, were tears perhaps this warm too?
“Here.” Your concern-ridden hand offers up a neatly folded handkerchief to the drenched man. 
As your eyes connect with his, a strange sensation tickled the back of your mind. As if it was trying to recall where you’ve seen the familiar lavender hue.
Maybe they matched the shade of a flower field you stumbled upon during your travels, or maybe that lilac luster was revealed to you in a dream.
A strange familiarity you couldn’t name. 
“Thank you very much.” He accepts the simple piece of cloth with tenderness rivaling that of conservators handing the renowned paintings of old masters. 
The clouds were long gone by now, perhaps they felt that their purpose had long been fulfilled. The golden rays of a lone star shone with all their brilliance, finally free from behind their blanket of drap clouds. 
It was only now that Neuvillette found out. The rain he had been yearning for all these years did in fact see all that the sky had to offer.
They had grown bored of drifting over vast plains, missing the picturesque countryside of Fontaine. Or perhaps their curiosity grew too great, wishing to finally hear a truth that was kept from them.
So much so, they quietly fell down from the sky, to return to his side again. 
Much like the hands in a clock, the cycle of water and earth follows a similar circular path. 
The rain had eroded away stubborn earth with its diligent drumming over the years.
Bit by bit and piece by piece until stone fractures into bits of sand. Over and over until a sandy beach was formed by the side of a patient sea.
Then the tide will reunite with its long-awaited shore, to return the sand and promise it cradled within its waves for so long. 
~Fin
©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS. 
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olympushit · 1 year
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ARES DOESN'T DESERVE THE HATE HE GETS. 10 REASONS WHY:
Apart from being the god of war, he was also the god of generalship, manliness and civil order, which means that he was the god responsible for the correct function of every ancient city in order of laws and politics.
As the god of manliness, he was considered to be the patron of a fine man that every man looked up to. He was a fighter, not only as a merit from being the god of war, but he always fought for his beliefs, just like at the Trojan War when he complained to Zeus about Athena's unfair action. Also, he was the best father to his children and always supported them and their mothers, just like Cycnus fighting with Heracles, or when Aeropos' mother died during childbirth and he made it possible for the baby to drink milk from his dead mother's body.
He was the only greek god that never raped a woman. All his sexual encounters were consensual and he always seemed to respect his lovers, because he kept his private life low key and none of them suffered or were subjected to tortures, unlike Zeus' or Poseidon's lovers did.
He was the god of dance. Legend has it that before he was taught how to fight, Priapos, his tutor, refused to teach him unless young Ares knew how to dance. Afterall, war is considered to be the ultimate dance a man could perform in ancient times. Also, he appeared to dance for his daughter's Armonia wedding with joy, leaving behind the animosity for her husband Cadmus. Finally, in the feasts of the Gods, it was said that Apollo played the lyre, while the Harites, Artemis, Hermes and Ares danced with great joy.
He was a forgiving god. Despite his enraged and bloodthirsty behavior, Ares knew how to forgive someone and appreciated what they were doing to gain his trust. After Cadmus slaughtered the Dragon, he was put 8 years under servitude to indulge Ares. Finally, Ares not only forgave Cadmus for his crime, but he also blessed his wedding with his own daughter Armonia. Cadmus, in order to gratify the god, built the city of Thebes and made Ares its patron god.
He wasn't a coward. Many greek myths refer to Ares' lack of courage to face danger. This is far from true. At the Trojan War, when he found out about Ascalaphus' death, he disobeyed Zeus' order with the risk of his immortal life in order to go to the battle amd avenge his son's death. He was later stopped by Zeus' thunderbolts. Also, when the Aloadai were about to take Olympus, he was the first god to interfere in battle in order to save Olympus. Afterall, one of his epithets was "Olympus' Protector".
He was sentimental. At the Trojan War he was seen greaving for his children's loss and always wanted to inervene for their safety. Also, he understood the rejection of his parents towards him and he was a lonely god that lacked love. But he found the love he was seeking to Aphrodite, and did not only lust her, but he loved her deeply. Together they had 8 children, and both of them were jealous about each other's affairs, because of Adonis and Eos. They also had an open relationship, because he never refrained Aphrodite from her nature, which was love and sex. Afterall love is not meant to be given to only one person.
He was the protector of women. When Hallirothios attempted to rape his daughter Alcippe, he flashed in the scene and brutally killed the rapist. From that moment on, a temple in Athens was built for Ares "Gynaikothoinas", which means the one feasted/worshipped by women.
He knew the feeling of loss. A war has two sides, the winners and the defeated. A war isn't always to be won, and everyone must learn what it is to lose. He lost many wars, but he also won many. That's why he is among the Olympians.
He was a god of justice. That is because he was referred to be "Themis' Ally", which means that he was a helper to the goddess of justice. One of his least famous daughters, Adrestia, was the goddess of balance, justice and retaliation. Also, "Areios Pagos" or aka "The hill of Ares" was named after him because he was the first man ever to be tried for substatial homicide, for slaughtering Alcippe' rapist.
DON'T TREAT MY BOY LIKE THAT! HE IS JUST ADORABLE!
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rzyraffek · 11 months
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Guys I suffer from jojo brainrot, I know its not my usual writing , but I need to get this out of my system. NO SPOILERS they/them pronouns, sfw, Request open
Also for obvious (and legal) reasons in josuke and okayasu ones reader is like 16.
Also I didnt finish jojo part4 yet so some stuff might be eee not accurate?
More jjba dating headcanons!!
Including Kars, Santana, young Joseph, Jonathan, Josuke, Speedwagon, Okuyasu
Kars
Homie will litteraly pet them. My guy has god complex, thinks that humans are so so smol and so so tiny
Picks them up like some lil baby and probably carries them around everywhere
S/o mostly just vibes in his huge mansion while Kars plots some evil emo stuff (again)
Quick reminder that this guy was doing ah mimimimi ah mimimimimi😴 for last few centuries so s/o has to explain him a lot of stuff
Imagine him getting jumpscared bcs your phone made a noise, or him just walking up to light switch and turing lights on and off repeatedly. Mans fascinated
Also guy is a walking muscle so no matter how big or smol s/o is they going to be picked up and carried around, probably he uses only one hand too btw
Pls brush his hair he will litteraly melt
Santana
...
"Human why you carry tiny talking square everywhere? Is it magical?"
My guy will take their phone and 'accidently' take 50selfies, but not in sexy way, but in 'his face is zoomed to camera and you see only his eyes and forehead' way
His love language is quality time, understanding and gifts
Hates germans btw
Will give them random stuff, like he will litteraly bring them a microwave and be like "human explain meaning of this". But also gives them shiny rocks, jewellery, hair accessories. If s/o wants a new car, my man gonna litteraly pick up first car he sees and bring it to them
I am convinced he eats food with his bare hands. S/o has to give him tutoral how to use knife and fork, he won't like it >:(
Young Joseph
Homeboy hands are everywhere, if my guy doesn't hold their hand, he is putting his hands on s/o shoulders or waist or just kisses them
Doing make-up together. And nails. And hair. All of this while shittalking his enemies and talking about all the drama.
Tequila Joseph first dragqueen in history btw
Never go on plane with him, no matter how romantinc he promises it will be. Do not
Also makes fun of Ceasar that Joseph was the first one to find a partner not him😍
S/o and Ceasar probably meet up sometimes to just complain about how dumb Joseph sometiems is😭
Will litteraly do anything to impress them frfr
Jonathan
Not boyfriend, but Husband material
My guy will be on walk with his homie speedwagon and litteraly act like teenager girl with crush. All blushy, shy and asking for advices
Gives them handfuls of flowers, but like Jonathan's sized handful (alot)
Loves walking with s/o and holding hands ofc
My boy will blush and die if s/o does first move
Pls s/o beat dio up he sucks
The best boy husband
Josuke
Bros gonna be so protective, like fr my guy will be worried if s/o goes to shop and doesn't come back in more than 20minutes
He will blush if s/o tries to hold his hand
Mumbles a lot about hair routine and hair products, and probably likes to comb s/o hair
Okayasu probably cried when he found out that Josuke has a partner btw
The sweetest boy alive
Guy will accidentally spoil them. Also they are basicly immortal due to all crazy daimon stuff
If s/o sees stands... OMG PLS pls hug his lil man, his stand i mean. It looks very hugable
Playing video games when s/o and josuke lied to his mom that you came over to teach him some school stuff>>
Okuyasu
This dude
This guy
Will litteraly beat anyone up, for no reason anyways. He just do be like that.
He is very dumb, please be patient
Isn't romantic, he tries to act cool and tough, but he is unintentionally cute! Like he will go to s/o house in middle of day, knock on door and he like "sup babygrill I bought you some ice cream"
If you guys play any kind of competitive game he might let them win! But he never tell them that of course
Also he is very physical, but not in romantic/sexy way but in 'dub me up homie/sup give me high five' hes very bromance. he also enjoys just leaning on them, like yall just stand waiting for bus and this dude will put like half his body weight on them
Once he had a nightmare and called them at 3am
Speedwagon
Btw sorry that characters are all over place and not organised, I am sleeby
My guy will shank anyone for you babe
Talks, a lot. So if s/o is a listener type, they will get along well
Goes to Jonathan and asks for advices about relationships!
S/o steals his hat and he pretends that he's offended, but pls dont stop you look cute!
My guy is very very...unorganised... total mess of a men if it comes to life. I dont even know if he has a house btw
Cuddles on couch when he's sure that noone is around>>>
Will read them to bed if that helps s/o fall asleep
He has poor eyesight but he doesnt wear glasses. Bonk him pls
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drawnfamiliarfaces · 4 months
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and if Chase grabs Randy, that would somehow influence the First Ninja?
Ooooo, like grabs as in 'kidnapped to be bait' or as in 'manipulated to the side of evil' though???? Honestly doesn't matter I guess, because either way First would be freaking pissed.
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I think most of us in rc9gn fandom collectively agree that First and Randy share a special bond, so if Chase decides to use Randy to get to First (or just use him in general), the repercussions of his actions could be terrifying.
The only saving grace would be, I think, that Chase would see and respect (to some degree) that bond, AND he could respect Randy. (I'm saying 'could' because, well... just imagine Randy 'fart jokes are height of humour' Cunningham and Chase 'wears impeccable armour' Young interacting, like??? do you get what i mean???)
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And in some way, that bond would remind Chase of his own special bond with Omi. So if Chase grabs Randy he could afford him the same level of respect he has for Omi. Though its not saying much, considering all the things Chase did to try and get Omi on his side lol.
So potentially Randy could be subjected to manipulation, a little bit of possible brainwashing, just lots of mentally traumatizing experiences and in general not bruce vibes from creepy immortal lizard man - not exactly fun times. But he would power through it that's for certain, Randy going darkside has very little possiblity IMO, (but even if it happens First would snap him out of it).
Meanwhile, First would regain a physical body out of sheer anger and just descend with the wrath of a 800 year old man who helped raise tutor over 200 teenagers and freaking wallop Chase's lizard ass, then unlock all the powers in the suit so Randy could kick his ass too. Then just to make sure, lock Chase somewhere up so he would learn a lesson (he probably won't).
Also I can't help but think of Chase imagining like "Ninja I have turned your best apprentice to Dark Side so my own turned apprentice could have an evil sibling conspirator, now you have to join us too, so we all can be happy evil family Empire and rule the world for 5000 years of Darkness." ;)
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And First, like instantly ruining Chase's little fantasy, lol.
On a slightly more serious scenario, I guess if Chase somehow grabs Randy and Randy does not in fact hold on, and to save him First would have to join Chase... he probably would do it and it will be a delightfully angsty moment of Randy watching in horror as his sorta mentor (spirit? memory?) is consumed by darkness of Chase Young. So, yea there is also that possible scenario. ;)
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gaywarcriminals · 14 days
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Shen Jiu is an Abusive Mother
Yeah this is my Mother's Day post <3 This is just for funsies, and I by no mean think its the best lens through which to see SJ and LBH's relationship— its just a comparison I find interesting, and I was feeling festive 🥰.
To start, none of this is to say that SJ is a feminine character. I don't believe that, and I think that he's often misinterpreted as more feminine by western fans due to differences in gender norms/gender roles (which is a Whole Other Coversation). Maternal/mommy are being used loosely here.
Secondly, I don't think we'd even be looking at SJ through a maternal framework if the man who took over his body wasn't Shen "I would never abort you" Yuan. SJ is mostly pulled into this because he exist in juxtaposition to Mr. Freud's Wet Dream (go read tshirt's SVSSS Freud zine btw, several points here are inspired by it).
The fact remains, though, that even without Wifebeam Supreme playing the part, there is something distinctly parental about the role of Shizun. Shizuns cannot be compared to teachers or tutors, who the child either go to visit durning the day, or who come to the child's home when it's time for lessons. Even with the respect due to them, a teacher remains distinct from a child's home and family. They do not overly incorporate themselves into these things that define a child's life. 
Shizuns are a little different. There is, ofc, lots of variation within the xianxia and wuxia genres, but in most of the stories I've encountered— and more importantly for our purposes, in SVSSS itself— unless the child’s family home is their sect, when a child is accepted as a disciple, they're expected to join their shizun/shifu either in the master's home/sect, or in free-roaming travel. In both cases, the shizun's home becomes the disciple's home, and their shizun becomes the main adult responsible for the child. The master will take over in guiding the child's development from here, shaping them by their hand. Is that not a parent? I think some such imprinting is inevitable, even among more well-adjusted disciples. Do you know who's not well-adjusted?
Luo Binghe enters the sect soon after the death of his mother. There is a mommy shaped hole in his heart. Though absolutely nothing could replace her, he's a sad, lost, and angry child, coming to a mountain of immortal masters, desperately hoping for one of them to take him as their own. As much as he's motivated by fulfilling his mother's wishes, isn't he also looking for a place to belong in this world, now that the hut that he once called home is ruined by his mother's absence? Doesn't he hope, if only for a short time, that someone else will see fit to care for him? As much as Luo Binghe is already hurt and hardened in many ways, he's still just a child; he's not yet blackened beyond dreaming of someone to love him.
Shen Jiu is very much Not That. Shen Jiu is not a merely a lofty immortal ambivalent to his disciple’s emotional needs. No, Shen Jiu hates Luo Binghe enough to unfairly punish and ostracize him, and even puts him in deadly harm's way twice before just outright trying to kill him (the manual, the demon invasion, the abyss). Going by the framework of SQQ as a parental figure, he's undeniably an abusive one. In what way could this be said to be maternal, though? In my eyes, it comes down to motive.
Shen Jiu has a lot of motivations for abusing Binghe, mostly coming down to the fact that's he's more trauma response than man at this point, but one of these is more explicitly outlined in the text than the others: Shen Qingqiu saw three things on the original flavor’s face: envy, envy, and more envy. Envy that Luo Binghe had a mother who was “the kindest in all the world to him,” envy of Luo Binghe’s talent, envy that Luo Binghe would enter Cang Qiong Mountain Sect at the best age for cultivating. He was indeed the kind of person to brim with envy and resentment toward a young child.
Envy and jealously, at least in the western canon, are usually associated with female characters (and though it’s outside the scope of this post to dissect, let it not go unremarked that this trope is deeply misogynistic in origin). They are almost always envious of a younger, more beautiful, and/or more skillful woman, who are posed at the moral superior to the jealous woman. That's right, Shen Jiu is an evil stepmother! He tolerates having no superior or equal on his peak, needing his power and superiority to go unquestioned. Outside of his abuse of Binghe, and the references early in the novel to SJ chasing away talented disciples, I think this is also shown by how the male disciple SJ tolerates the most is Ming Fan, who has only middling talent and is obsequious before his shifu, never challenging SJ in any way, and never threatening to surpass him.
But of course, SJ’s relationship to Binghe is the most obvious example. Shen Jiu sees himself in Luo Binghe (derogatory). He sees Luo Binghe as a symbol of everything he never had. Luo Binghe is a creature like himself that, for no rhythm or reason, was given so much more than SJ. It is also notable that, at least as far as Shen Qingqiu, as an outside observer, can tell, the thing which first sparked SJ's ire was the mention of LBH's mother. Never mind that LBH says in the same breath that she's dead; the fact that when she lived, she was a kind and loving mother to LBH is enough for SJ to envy him, and as he finds more to envy, it comes justification to hate the boy, and to punish him for daring to have someone who died loving him. 
(Side note: after consulting the qijiu server about the implications of SJ’s reaction, my reading is that SJ never knew his mother. The only alternative is that she was a bad mother, but I don't think he would find such unilateral comfort in women if that was the case. It's made me wonder if SJ ever believed that having a mother, a protector, would have spared him his fate. But alas, this post is not about SJ's mommy issues. Another day!)
Even outside the realm of cartoonish villains, I think this particular brand of envy is, in some ways, associate with motherhood. There's a natural tendency in parents to see themselves in their children, but as mothers are almost always the ones more involved in raising children and more expected to foster emotional connections with their children, I think this is both more common and more encouraged in mothers than fathers. Mothers are expected to be in charge of and over-involved in most aspects of a child's life, and in turn their lives are expected to revolve around their children, blurring the boarder between the self and the child. The child becomes symbolic of the mother's past self and what she can no longer be. The expectations on the child are the expectations of the mother's idealized self, and whether the child meets them or not, the mother will resent them for it, for daring to fail when they are her, or daring to succeed when they are not.
That's not to say SJ ever had such deep identification with LBH— he certainly never cared for LBH, and if anything, he's more like a mother who resents her child being born (as though he did not pick this boy out of the dirt himself)— but the hatred for a child under his care being like him but supposedly better off feels evocative of this characteristically maternal form of envy.
And finally, there is the fruit of SJ's actions, and the most explicitly/textually maternal aspect of SJ's abuse: it created Luo Bingge.
“Has Shidi ever considered that, if you hadn’t treated Luo Binghe like that in the beginning, everything that unfolded today never would have happened?”
He had singlehandedly created the Luo Binghe of today,
Luo Bingge, the all-powerful demon, the ruler of the three realms, and Shen Jiu's own personal torturer, would never have existed without SJ's intervention. Luo Bingge is shaped in Shen Jiu's image, and everything Shen Jiu ever did to destroy the boy only twisted him to further fit this mold. Luo Bingge's fate, the shape of his very soul, have been defined by SJ. And what is more maternal than giving someone their life defining trauma? 
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rayshippouuchiha · 1 year
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TBH the lack of Real Respect Tsuna and Skull both get makes me wanna see ‘em just… Vanish. They aren’t hurt, or in trouble, but they both end up tired as hell and want like. One (1) year to themselves, without being called shit like useless or lackey or weak. So they fuck off and onto some whimsical journey across the world, probably running into the fair folk or some shit (because Tsuna’s Super Anxiety would make him a damn hard target for them, and I feel like they’d just Vibe with Skull. Immortal and all that).
Meanwhile, everyone back in Namimori is losing. their. shit. Trying to find their two dumbasses, flipping every damn stone over because they’ve Clearly been kidnapped. No One notices the note Tsuna and Skull left, because Skull still isn’t the best at writing and Tsuna’s Super Anxiety kicked in and said that if he wrote it he’d never get his goddamn vacation.
To clarify, this is meant to be (mostly) humorous, but I’m curious to see where you’d go with an idea like this. I just want Skull and Tsuna to travel the world together TBH. Feel like they’d make good brothers.
Oh oh yes. Obviously there'll be humor but, well, it's me and we all know how these things eat my brain and I have to give them some bite so:
Skull isn't really one of Arcobaleno that Tsuna generally spends much time with.
When it comes to the Strongest, the ones Tsuna's found himself spending the most time with has always been Reborn and, surprisingly enough, Fon.
Reborn is around more often than not, content to keep torturing Tsuna even if his official title has shifted from Demon Tutor to Demon Tutor/Advisor.
And Fon's tendency to stop by frequently can be chalked up to I-pin and the fact that, for some reason, the Storm seems to be under the impression that hanging around Tsuna will, somehow, help him grow closer to Hibari.
Which is something that doesn't really make much sense to Tsuna. Even after years of being dragged into and out of various ridiculous shenanigans together, and despite recent Hibari's tendency to commandeer Tsuna's bed or floor or balcony at random times to nap, Tsuna's still not convinced that Hibari actually remembers he exists whenever they're not in the same room together.
And sometimes not even then.
A part of Tsuna also suspects that the "Small Animal" title he carries now might just be Hibari's way of getting around the fact that he doesn't remember Tsuna's actual name anymore.
It is, much like most everything else involving Hibari and Tsuna's thoughts about him, confusing and difficult for Tsuna to make up his mind about.
So, besides Reborn's continued sadism and Fon regularly attempting to use Tsuna as some kind of emotional Switzerland and/or human sacrifice to Hibari, Tsuna tends to see the other Arcobaleno on a bit of a floating schedule.
Viper, as Reborn has taken to insisting everyone outside of the Varia call the Mist, tends to blip in and out every once in a while. Often bringing news from Xanxus and leaving with anything strawberry flavored in Tsuna's house and whatever money he might have in his wallet at the moment.
Lal Mirch and Colonello tend to arrive and depart together, attached at the hip now no matter how much they bicker.
Verde's version of checking in seems to come in the form of sending whatever new robot or nightmare construct he's thought of to attack Tsuna and "gather data".
But Skull?
Tsuna rarely sees Skull.
The Cloud floats in and out of town only rarely and never stays longer than absolutely necessary. Often times he's gone within the hour.
Which is, in Tsuna's opinion, actually kind of a shame.
Because the thing is, Tsuna actually likes Skull.
Oh, he hadn't a few years ago when they'd first come across each other.
No back then Tsuna had hated each new and increasingly ridiculous trap/trick/shenanigan and situation Reborn had managed to push him into.
Skull had just been another irritation on a rapidly increasing list of things Tsuna hadn't wanted to deal with.
But ,,,
Well, it hadn't taken Tsuna long to realize that Skull and he were much more alike than he'd ever thought possible back at the beginning.
And now, with a few years of Reborn and this mafia headache under his belt?
Now Skull's someone that Tsuna wouldn't actually mind seeing more of.
Even though he knows it's not likely to happen.
Mainly because Tsuna's not actually a complete idiot no matter what some people still seem to think.
Tsuna's seen enough interactions between Reborn and Skull to have a pretty good idea about where some of the chips in that relationship fall.
Plus Hyper Intuition is helpful for more than just life-or-death battles these days even if Tsuna's not made that fact as openly obvious as he might once have.
It's yet another area in which Tsuna's found he can sympathize with Skull.
Because Tsuna also has a hyper-violent sadist he half wishes he could care less about sometimes.
Which is why Tsuna's so surprised to see a familiar pair of leather-clad legs dangling over the edge of the roof when he steps out onto his balcony, desperate to escape the screaming and general chaos that has once again taken over his house.
Tsuna goes to call out only for that familiar flare of warning heat to snap his mouth closed.
Instead Tsuna does something that he wouldn't have been able to a few short years ago.
He reaches up, grabs the edge of his roof in one hand, and pulls himself up onto the tiles above him.
When he's kneeling on the roof a few seconds later Tsuna finds himself glad that he didn't make too much noise, glad that he didn't draw any attention to Skull.
Because Skull's currently laid out on Tsuna's roof, legs dangling over the side but arms pillowed behind his head, helmet settled at his hip and eyes trained on the night sky and face almost eerily blank.
It is, Tsuna can't help but think, the quietest he's ever seen Skull.
It's honestly a little unsettling.
But, worst of all somehow in Tsuna's opinion, is the fact that Skull looks ,,, tired.
He doesn't even bother to greet Tsuna beyond flicking those vibrant violet eyes in his direction before going back to his star gazing.
To Tsuna, Skull has never looked more like everything he was taught a Cloud is supposed to be than in this moment.
Cold.
Illusive.
Bound to drift away.
The thought sends a shiver of premonition down Tsuna's spine.
Tsuna finds himself laying down on the roof beside him, legs dangling over the edge and arms folded behind his head.
Their elbows are just barely brushing.
And all the while a flickering whisper in the back of Tsuna's mind sings.
"I'm tired," Tsuna finds himself saying some silent drawn-out minutes later.
A beat of silence.
"Yeah," Skull sighs, voice lower and smoother than Tsuna has ever heard it before, "me too."
"I," Tsuna pauses, swallows, feels his Intuition surge and sharpen, "I love my friends and I know they care too but sometimes I just ,,,"
Tsuna trails off because he knows that Skull understands without him ever having to finish.
"Wish you could go to sleep and wake up on the opposite end of the world so that maybe you could get some rest and peace before they inevitably find you again?" Skull offers.
"Yes," The answer practically bursts out of Tsuna.
Another beat of silence.
"I've got an airship," Skull announces.
Tsuna hears it for the offer it is.
"They'd find us," Tsuna points out softly, twisting just a bit so he's looking Skull in the face. "They'd hunt us down and drag us both back."
The smirk Skull sends him in return is far darker and slyer than any expression Tsuna's ever seen on his face before.
"Oh, malysh nebo," Skull practically purrs, "they could certainly try."
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rarepears · 1 year
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Twin Shens but all the peak lords can tell them apart at a glance because they all have working gaydar. Shen Yuan is the one with the Male Wife-energy, Shen Jiu is the one with Bitch Husband-energy.
And Airplane surprisingly gives off big Dick energy somehow...
Yeah, Cang Qiong is still wondering how that's possible, but it is what it is.
Airplane needs to have big dick energy or how else to explain why Mobei Jun keeps ending up in PIDW wife plots and this random cultivator in green and white is constantly around to oh so conveniently "rescue" him?! Mobei Jun is pretty sure that this is none other than a cultivators' piss poor attempt at demonic courtship, but he's reluctantly a little swayed by it...
[More in the #a shen twins au where shen yuan becomes the qing jing peak lord and shen jiu becomes an imperial tutor to the crown prince]
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kitkats-and-kittens · 3 months
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Spoilers for Pjo.
You know I feel like people should acknowledge how fucked up camp halfblood is more often.
Like everyone always makes fun of New Rome for being uptight and sticklers for the rules, but low-key living at camp halfblood sucks.
The barrier wasn’t even up for a decade before it was broken and before that literal children were sent out to fight monsters despite being promised safety (Ik Talias protection made it slightly better, but still) and during sea of monsters they are once again required to fight as literal kids!
Unlike New Rome there’s no university for the Demigods to go to. Year rounders get tutored by Chiron (presumably) and then what? They have no actual credentials or any records of them graduating from school. Since no one knows about Camp they technically don’t have an address either which sucks if your parents are dead or don’t want you.
We see hardly any adult demigods around camp and I don’t know if they choose to leave or not, but either way they are set up for failure. Chiron tells Percy about the success stories, the people who go on to be Olympic athletes or celebrities due to their half godly nature, but it’s more than likely those are far outweighed by the failures.
Those who died hungry on the streets with no way to get a job and no home to return to. Those who were torn down by monsters without the protection of the camp. Even those who made it constant live with the terror that one day they’ll be found and killed. And what if those people have family’s? Will the monsters hunt them too? And what happens when they get too old to fight?
That’s not even mentioning the trauma they’ll be stuck with their entire lives.
No wonder so many end up joining the Emperors in ToA.
And you know what. Chiron need to take some damn accountability for being a shit mentor. He fucked off for most of the books but even when he talks to Percy about how much he cares he does quite literally nothing about Luke. How did a child manage to manipulate an immortal centaur for years without anyone catching on?
And he doesn’t improve after the war either. Will is made Head of Apollo Cabin at 13. He has two younger siblings and is essentially expected to act as their parent despite still being a child himself. Not to mention he’s the camps head doctor. He’s performed surgery! Which is exhausting and long and something no child should be dealing with. Especially since we know Chiron must have some healing abilities since he literally raised Asclepius.
Will is not paid either. None of them are. He doesn’t get a salary, so free child labour (cough cough exploitation) and after he leaves camp he’ll have no way to prove his medical training to anyone and no way to pay for medical school or even to get in without the appropriate documents.
I don’t like to rant about books but Rick Riordan did not go dark enough with this series and I will say this about his books until the day I die. The light comedic writing style means fucked up shit like this simply slips through the cracks.
There’s still so much I haven’t touched on.
What about the Hephaestus cabin and their curse. How did Chiron just stand by and watch as these kids continually blew themselves up?
Fighting in two wars?
The Romans are a little more fucked up there because we know there are adults who can fight and are simply choosing to send children in their place.
Octavian being quite literally brainwashed into dying for his land.
Jason’s entire backstory.
The fact that most demigod children probably die before ever reaching camp is very much not touched on and it should be.
The fact that camp halfblood is hidden with the mist means that no one knows where the year rounders are. Which is weird when you think a lot of the reason people become year rounders is too many monster attacks or horrible home lives which further implies out in the real world there are genuine missing posters for these kids. Some might even be considered legally dead so what happens when they rock up in their early 20’s attempting to rejoin society?
In conclusion Camp Halfblood is fucked and Chiron is not some innocent fun loving centaur dude. His lack of action had a very big and very real impact on these kids.
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gabessquishytum · 2 months
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I started thinking of that Alpha!Dream and Alpha!Calliope bitching Hob prompt from a while ago. This one: https://gabessquishytum.tumblr.com/post/735255882065199104/more-immortal-throuple-omegaverse-3-hob-during
It had been a year since Dream and Calliope had claimed Hob and made him an omega. Much had changed in that time, it took months more for his body to make the full change from alpha to omega, for him to learn and adapt to new instincts, to reassure his friends and allies he was safe, and, most annoyingly, to learn the rules and etiquette surrounding his new station. He had made his tutors despair once he’d learned everything he needed. It was more fun for him when when a noble knew he was deliberately snubbing them.
His body had changed so much. He had put on more weight and now had a healthy layer of fat over his muscles. He looked softer in the face, shoulders, and thighs. His tummy gently sloped over his belt and his chest was more padded. He could still break a man with his hands, but he had learned people seemed to underestimate him now that he was an omega.
He had yet to return either of his mating marks. He wanted to make Dream and Calliope work for it. He didn't mind having been claimed, nor becoming an omega, but he wanted to be romanced. Instinct had proven they fit together, now they had to win his heart. He had expectations of a proper courtship.
Dream and Calliope were determined to woo him by the time Hob's heats stabilized and it was safe to have children. There were a few missteps, in the beginning: pretty and useless trinkets, soft and delicate clothes, though Hob did take an especially gauzy outfit or two for future sexy times. They figured things out eventually. Hob had great fun flirting with his alphas and scandalizing the nobility during the process. They had better get used to it, and him. He was only willing to bend so far. Truly, it didn't take long for Hob to fall in love, not with the way his alphas tried so hard to win his heart and respected his agency, not when they would take turns outside his chamber door to comfort and ease him through his heats.
When he finally accepted their suit, Dream and Calliope were overcome with emotion. They didn't…they thought they have to work harder and longer, maybe up to or even beyond his first stable heat cycle. Hob had every right to be angry with them. It was hard to fight off one alpha in rut, much less two. He had had very little choice in the matter. Hob immediately put their fears to rest.
In the week leading up to his heat Hob spent very little time with his chosen alphas. Instead, he wandered the castle and palace grounds, trailing the sweet, heady scent of pre-heat. It clung, thick and pungent, to those Hob called friend. It was driving Dream and Calliope crazy. They were getting very little work done, following that delicious scent whenever it crossed their path. If they were lucky it would lead to Hob, wherein they would be showered with kisses and coaxed into a cuddle, more often than not they would find a soldier, servant, or, on occasion, the odd noble Hob had befriended.
The last two days before his heat Hob rarely left his rooms. He had to make sure his nest was perfect for his alphas. He had taken their favorite and most comfortable clothes to weave into the nest. The bottom was padded with the covers of their shared bed. Pillows were tucked and stashed, building out the edges. He fiddled and fluffed until satisfied.
On the day his heat finally hit, Hob had just enough presence of mind to garb himself in his favorite silk lingerie and drape himself in the best of his courting jewelry. Before he left his room he grabbed a diaphanous robe that complemented his outfit.
Dream was pacing the parlor of their private suite, while Calliope sat white-knuckled on the sofa. The castle had been emptied, outside the few servants needed to keep them fed and watered. The thought of others, competition, near Hob was enough to send them into a near frenzy, only the faint sounds emerging from his room kept them from scouring the grounds for intruders. As Dream passed behind Calliope the door to Hob's room opened. When he stepped out Calliope’s breath caught in her throat and Dream had to anchor himself lest he lose control. This was it, they were finally going to be claimed by their omega.
His scent billowed out from the room, a teasing delight for the senses. Hob was beautiful, incandescent. A robe teased the edges of his body, belted at the waist. His lingerie, where visible, concealed as much as it revealed. Along his arms glinted golden bangles and bracelets. Delicate strands of jewels encircled his neck. Dream's ruby in pride of place. Gilded chains sparkled in the light where they were braided into his dark hair. He was a summer afternoon, sharp vanilla and juicy oranges, heat heavy on the tongue.
He padded into the room on bare feet, headed for his alphas. He pulled Calliope to her feet, pulled her hands to his faced and dropped a kiss on the backs of both before scenting along her dainty wrists. “My queen, will you join me?”
She growled, low and wanting, and dug her fingers into his hair, pulling him down for a searing kiss. “Yes, of course, sweeting,” she breathed against his lips.
Hob laughed. “Only for the two of you.”
He moved her hands to his waist so he could reach for Dream and draw him close. His arms went around Dream's shoulders as he dragged his nose along the other man's scent gland. Dream whined, high in his throat. His hands landing on Hob's hips to pull him closer still. “And you, my king? Will you let me make you mine?”
“Yes, my treasure,” he rasped. “We will be yours as you are ours.”
Hob sighed, pleased, and led them to his, their, nest. He crawled in first, positioned himself in the middle as artfully as he could manage. “I expect to be with child by heats end, and will be most disappointed if you fail.”
His alpha’s moaned and scrambled after him.
It got much longer that anticipated, but I had fun with it.
—🏵
Super duper very much incredibly obsessed with this!!!! Especially how youve written it and all the lush descriptions!!! Am also absolutely love this whole au concept in general tbh. The role reversal of Hob being bitched and then Dream and Calliope submitting to him utterly... the power dynamics make me drool.
And I'm soooo into the process of the body shifting from alpha to omega. Can you imagine Calliope and Dream watching and trying to hold themselves back as they watch their omega coming into himself? The changing distribution of his weight, the way he slowly outgrows clothes designed for alpha body types, the way they catch him admiring his naked body in the mirror almost every day. Calliope has bitten her fingernails down so badly because she needs to do something to stop herself from going right over and burying her face in Hob’s soft belly. The belly that might soon carry their child.....
Hob slowly begins to realise that despite the unfortunate circumstances of his changing from alpha to omega... he would have chosen this. This is who he was meant to be. And Dream and Calliope are meant to be his alphas. He is proud to be theirs, proud to build a nest for them, proud to present his dripping heat-slick hole for the very first time. He is so excited to get pregnant by his alphas, he can barely manage to keep up the dominance in his voice as he commands them to fuck him full of heirs.
They didn't find their omega in the easy way, but they did absolutely find the right one. Dream and Calliope look forward to long lives filled with love. And the snarkiest omega in the land. He was quite literally made for them.
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00127am · 3 months
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signed with love and forever yours, dejun
postage. xiao dejun & gn! reader, mentions of kissing cost to ship. 872 words
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there was that time, laying in the open field behind the school, that you asked me why i always avert my gaze around you. i wasn't able to provide you with an answer. and how could i? when you were laying so close to me, nothing more than the thin separation of blades of grass between us. the same grass that i twisted in between my fingers as i fumbled for any semblance of a correct response. you weren't looking for a 'correct' answer, but an honest one, and perhaps--in the grand scheme of all things--that was worse.
it was hot that day. some week in late august, when we were skipping class. a class i shouldn't have skipped. considering the fact that i was flunking it. i had to get kun to tutor me, though i also remembering begging you too. i knew you weren't any good at the subject, but to me, at least, you could never be bad at anything.
you always loved the sound of cicadas. they were loud that day, a steady stream of their chirping that you said sounded like the melody of your favorite song. no matter how hard i tried, i couldn't figure out exactly what you meant. but perhaps that was because they were hard to hear over the beating of my heart. a rhythmic pounding that overtook all other noises beyond the tone of your voice. the up and down waver of your inflection which cut clear through everything else in its way. you sounded like my favorite song that day. though i guess your voice is always my favorite.
the answer to your question, the one you asked about me averting your gaze--if you still care for the answer, i hope you do (pray)--is one that you probably already know. or one you have figured out through my obvious yearning. or told by hendery, the most likely out of the three options. i can't look at you for long, because if i do--if i spot the reflection of myself in your irises and the utter adoration in my own--it becomes obvious what i feel for you.
if you were to look into my eyes, to return my stare with one of your own (the same one that makes my mouth run dry and my chest burn) then you'd catch every bit of longing for you that i hold in my body. the same longing that is desperate for your words, attention, touch, kiss.
if i did answer your question that day, underneath the heat of a dying summer (one which remains immortal in the grounds of my memory) and in a moment caught in time, i'm afraid that i might have kissed you. that my silly, schoolboy crush would have superseded any inkling of common sense in nothing but the sheer hope that you would kiss me back. would you have? kissed me for an honest answer?
i'm being honest now. so when you get this, and if you still care--if you would have rewarded me back then in between the blades of grass and in the lull of the cicada's song that summer--will you repay me with a kiss?
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about dejun's love letters.
xiaojun's handwriting is practiced to a degree of elegancy, with swooping ends of consonants and dramatically drawn vowels. everything about him is beautiful, so it only makes sense for this to be as well, with elongated strokes of cursive that seem to be stripped from the fine pages of old prose. despite all of its intricacy and detail, it's always legible. every phrase and sentiment able to be discerned underneath all the glitz and glamor of his penmanship (something he tends to regrets each and every time ten or hendery seems to get their hands on them).
he's a nostalgic person, constantly and consistently returning to old memories to revisit them again and again and again. he loves to write about the past, to remember every detail that made his head spin and his breath catch. and he loves to relive them, though it's nearly melancholy, and to write them down with such a pretty consideration to ensure he'll never forget them. it's for this reason that he writes on white lined paper, the kind you rip out of notebooks or are handed in secondary school. it's rather pointless in the grand scheme of things, since his words transcend lines and sentences break across margins. isn't it really all for the memory, though?
like chenle, xiaojun's letters are not slipped into an envelope, stamped with an address, and signed off with your name. he finds there to be something devastatingly romantic in writing love letters that will never reach their addressee, or at least, don't have the intent too. but he hopes that one day, perhaps in the silence of a conversation or when his hand is clutching yours a bit too tight, that he'll find the courage to enunciate all of his affections. and then deliver the letters, each and every one that he has written throughout all the years he has known you, in the hopes that your love will become something that he can hold with both nostalgia for your younger years and fortune for your future ones.
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your mailbox
taglist. @evilsailorsenshi @222brainrot @yangasm @jenaisnte @sour-chaos thank you for supporting me! ♡
🧾 © 00127am 2024
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avelera · 1 year
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Hob Gadling... 21st Century Translator to the King of Dreams?
Not sure if this is a plotbunny or a headcanon but... man I was having some discussions about how Hob like Dream would have spent most of his life believing in the Divine Right of Kings and how actually, Hob would be more sympathetic than derogatory towards Dream for being maybe a century or two out of date on the latest, cutting edge societal thinking post-imprisonment, and now I am thinking about Hob on the down-low becoming Dream's 21st century translator.
Like, Dream has missed 106 years and it's kind of embarrassing, it's hard to reconstruct all of that just from dreams too, especially since not many people are alive from that whole stretch of time and he'd basically have to dig through archives...
SO ANYWAY, what if they meetings become a sort of stealthy tutoring session for Dream? With Hob actually being super sympathetic to Dream being a king who doesn't maybe want to reveal how out of touch he is post-imprisonment, and who better than a history teacher to catch him up or at least be available whenever he has a question?
And along those lines things like "Ok but kings can't just stop being kings??" (ie, "I can't ever given up this burden of being Endless, my only choice is self destruction and letting a successor take over??") as a question from Dream and Hob being actually EXCITED and SUPPORTIVE instead of dismissive or going all "down with the monarchy" on Dream's ass because his subjects don't have free will (because Dream doesn't think HE does either! And surely that has to count for something, especially if he's trying to be better??).
So Hob actually sitting Dream down and explaining "You know, I was born a peasant, and I thought so too! But let me walk you through how thought has changed on that count, and why, and why some people find it offensive today, because it was crazy for me too to look back and one day realize everyone had just agreed almost overnight that Kings are just Normal Blokes and maybe we shouldn't have them anymore!"
IDK I feel like I've seen one end of the spectrum in fic which is like... politics and history and what Dream has missed just doesn't come up, except as the occasional joke, and on the other end of the spectrum there's Dream being a monarchist (obviously, he's a monarch) and that just setting Hob off and Hob getting angry and lecturing Dream on the past century of thought that he missed out on (and to be fair was already pretty behind the times on to begin with!).
But I've never really SEEN (doesn't mean it doesn't exist!) history teacher Hob being EXCITED and SUPPORTIVE about getting the chance to explain to another immortal (and one he cares about!) how things have changed and how exciting it is and how certain fundamental assumptions he ALSO spent most of his life adhering to can suddenly change and then vanish as if they never existed except as relics? And maybe Dream actually responding well, if shyly at first, to someone who is willing to discretely educate him on what he missed, instead of just berating him or side-eye him for not already knowing these things because he was IMPRISONED? (And unwilling to change before that but also IMPRISONED?)
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