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carlosoliveirare · 4 days
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đ—”đ—Čđ—čđ—čđ—Œ! đ—¶đ—ș 𝗼 đ—»đ—Č𝘄 đ˜„đ—żđ—¶đ˜đ—Č𝗿 đ—źđ—»đ—± đ—¶đ—ș đ—”đ—źđ—œđ—œđ˜† đ˜đ—Œ 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘁 đ˜€đ—”đ—źđ—żđ—¶đ—»đ—Ž đ—ș𝘆 đ˜„đ—Œđ—żđ—ž!
𝗠𝘆 đ˜„đ—Œđ—żđ—ž đ—°đ—Œđ—»đ˜€đ—¶đ˜€đ˜đ˜€ đ—Œđ—ł (𝘀đ—ș𝘂𝘁, 𝗳đ—č𝘂𝗳𝗳, đ—»đ˜€đ—łđ˜„, đ—Žđ—Œđ—żđ—Č, đ—șđ—Čđ—»đ˜đ—¶đ—Œđ—» đ—Œđ—ł 𝗯đ—čđ—Œđ—Œđ—±/đ—Żđ—¶đ˜đ—¶đ—»đ—Ž/đ˜€đ˜đ—źđ—Żđ—Żđ—¶đ—»đ—Ž/đ˜€đ—”đ—Œđ—Œđ˜đ—¶đ—»đ—Ž, đ˜‚đ—»đ—œđ—żđ—Œđ˜đ—Č𝗰𝘁đ—Čđ—± 𝘀đ—Č𝘅, 𝗼𝗮đ—Č đ—±đ—¶đ—łđ—łđ—Č𝗿đ—Čđ—»đ—°đ—Č, 𝘃𝘂đ—č𝗮𝗼𝗿 đ—čđ—źđ—»đ—Žđ˜‚đ—źđ—Žđ—Č, 𝗰𝗿đ—Č𝗼đ—șđ—œđ—¶đ—Č, đ—·đ—Č𝗼đ—čđ—Œđ˜‚đ˜€đ˜†, đ—łđ—Œđ—żđ—°đ—Č𝗳𝘂đ—č 𝗼𝗰𝘁𝘀, đ—°đ—Œđ—șđ—łđ—Œđ—żđ˜, đ—Œđ—żđ—źđ—č, đ—żđ—Œđ—čđ—Čđ—œđ—č𝗼𝘆, đ˜ƒđ—Œđ˜†đ—Čđ˜‚đ—żđ—¶đ˜€đ—ș, đ—żđ—Œđ˜‚đ—Žđ—” 𝘀đ—Č𝘅, đ—žđ—¶đ—»đ—žđ˜€: 𝗯𝗿đ—Čđ—Čđ—±đ—¶đ—»đ—Ž, đ—Żđ—Œđ—»đ—±đ—źđ—Žđ—Č, đ˜ƒđ—¶đ—żđ—Žđ—¶đ—»đ—¶đ˜đ˜† đ—čđ—Œđ˜€đ˜€, 𝘀𝘁đ—Čđ—œ-đ—Żđ—żđ—Œ, 𝘀𝘁đ—Čđ—œ-đ—±đ—źđ—±, đ—žđ—»đ—¶đ—łđ—Č đ—œđ—č𝗼𝘆.)
𝗜 𝗗𝗱 𝗡𝗱𝗧 đ˜„đ—żđ—¶đ˜đ—Č đ˜€đ˜‚đ—°đ—” đ˜đ—”đ—¶đ—»đ—Žđ˜€ 𝗼𝘀: (đ—żđ—źđ—œđ—Č, đ—¶đ—»đ—°đ—Č𝘀𝘁, đ—°đ—”đ—¶đ—čđ—± đ—œđ—Œđ—żđ—»/𝘀đ—Č𝘅/đ—żđ—źđ—œđ—Č, 𝗡𝗱𝗡-𝗖𝗱𝗡, đ—žđ—¶đ—»đ—žđ˜€ đ˜€đ˜‚đ—°đ—” 𝗼𝘀: (đ—°đ—Œđ—œđ—żđ—Œđ—œđ—”đ—¶đ—čđ—¶đ—ź, đ—łđ—Œđ—Œđ˜ 𝗳đ—Čđ˜đ—¶đ˜€đ—”, 𝗯đ—Čđ—źđ˜€đ˜đ—¶đ—źđ—čđ—¶đ˜đ˜†)
đ—Čđ—»đ—·đ—Œđ˜† đ—ș𝘆 𝗳𝘂𝘁𝘂𝗿đ—Č đ˜„đ—Œđ—żđ—ž!
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đ˜Ÿđ™ƒđ˜Œđ™đ˜Œđ˜Ÿđ™đ™€đ™đ™Ž 𝙄 𝙒𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙀 𝙁𝙊𝙍:
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𝗖𝗱𝗗(𝗰𝗼đ—čđ—č đ—Œđ—ł đ—±đ˜‚đ˜đ˜†):
đ˜€đ—¶đ—șđ—Œđ—» "𝗚𝗛𝗱𝗩𝗧" đ—żđ—¶đ—čđ—Č𝘆
đ—žđ—¶đ—ș "đ—›đ—ąđ—„đ—”đ—Ąđ—šđ—œ" đ—”đ—Œđ—»đ—Ž-đ—·đ—¶đ—»
đ—žđ—Œđ—»đ—¶đ—Ž
đ—°đ—źđ—œđ˜đ—źđ—¶đ—» đ—·đ—Œđ—”đ—» â€œđ—Łđ—„đ—œđ—–đ—˜"
đ—·đ—Œđ—”đ—» "𝗩𝗱𝗔𝗣" đ—șđ—źđ—°đ˜đ—źđ˜ƒđ—¶đ˜€đ—”
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đ—„đ—˜(𝗿đ—Čđ˜€đ—¶đ—±đ—Čđ—»đ˜ đ—Čđ˜ƒđ—¶đ—č):
𝗰𝗼𝗿đ—čđ—Œđ˜€ đ—Œđ—čđ—¶đ˜ƒđ—Čđ—¶đ—żđ—ź
đ—čđ—Čđ—Œđ—» đ˜€đ—°đ—Œđ˜đ˜ 𝗾đ—Čđ—»đ—»đ—Čđ—±đ˜†
𝗼đ—č𝗯đ—Č𝗿𝘁 𝘄đ—Č𝘀𝗾đ—Č𝗿
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𝗧đ—Ș(𝘁đ—Čđ—Čđ—» đ˜„đ—Œđ—č𝗳):
đ—șđ—¶đ—Č𝗰𝘇𝘆𝘀đ—č𝗼𝘄 "𝗩𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗩" đ˜€đ˜đ—¶đ—čđ—¶đ—»đ˜€đ—žđ—¶
đ˜€đ—°đ—Œđ˜đ˜ đ—ș𝗰𝗰𝗼đ—čđ—č
đ—±đ—Č𝗿đ—Č𝗾 đ—”đ—źđ—čđ—Č
đ—»đ—Œđ—Žđ—¶đ˜đ˜€đ˜‚đ—»đ—Č "đ—©đ—ąđ—œđ—— 𝗩𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗩"
đ—·đ—źđ—°đ—žđ˜€đ—Œđ—» đ˜„đ—”đ—¶đ˜đ˜đ—Čđ—șđ—Œđ—żđ—Č
𝗼đ—čđ—čđ—¶đ˜€đ—Œđ—» 𝗼𝗿𝗮đ—Čđ—»đ˜
đ—°đ—”đ—żđ—¶đ˜€ 𝗼𝗿𝗮đ—Čđ—»đ˜
đ˜đ—”đ—Čđ—Œ 𝗿𝗼đ—Č𝗾đ—Čđ—»
đ—»đ—Œđ—źđ—” đ˜€đ˜đ—¶đ—čđ—¶đ—»đ˜€đ—žđ—¶
đ—¶đ˜€đ˜€đ—źđ—° đ—čđ—źđ—”đ—Č𝘆
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đ—ąđ—•đ—«(đ—Œđ˜‚đ˜đ—Č𝗿 đ—Żđ—źđ—»đ—žđ˜€):
đ—·đ—Œđ—”đ—» đ—Żđ—Œđ—Œđ—žđ—Č𝗿 đ—żđ—Œđ˜‚đ˜đ—čđ—Čđ—±đ—Žđ—Č
𝗿𝗼𝗳đ—Č 𝗰𝗼đ—șđ—Čđ—żđ—Œđ—»
đ—·đ—· đ—șđ—źđ˜†đ—Żđ—źđ—»đ—ž
đ—œđ—Œđ—œđ—Č đ—”đ—Čđ˜†đ˜„đ—źđ—żđ—±
đ˜€đ—źđ—żđ—źđ—” 𝗰𝗼đ—șđ—Čđ—żđ—Œđ—»
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𝗩𝗞𝗭(𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝘆 đ—žđ—¶đ—±đ˜€)
đ—”đ˜„đ—źđ—»đ—Ž đ—”đ˜†đ˜‚đ—»đ—·đ—¶đ—»
đ—čđ—Čđ—Č 𝗳đ—Čđ—čđ—¶đ˜…
đ—°đ—”đ—żđ—¶đ˜€đ˜đ—Œđ—œđ—”đ—Č𝗿 đ—Żđ—źđ—»đ—Ž
đ—čđ—Čđ—Č đ—șđ—¶đ—»-đ—”đ—Œ
𝘀đ—Čđ—Œ đ—°đ—”đ—źđ—»đ—Žđ—Żđ—¶đ—»
đ—žđ—¶đ—ș 𝘀đ—Čđ˜‚đ—»đ—Žđ—șđ—¶đ—»
đ—”đ—źđ—» đ—·đ—¶đ˜€đ˜‚đ—»đ—Ž
đ˜†đ—źđ—»đ—Ž đ—·đ—Čđ—Œđ—»đ—Žđ—¶đ—»
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𝗧đ—Ș𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧(đ˜đ—”đ—Č 𝘀𝗼𝗮𝗼):
đ—Čđ—±đ˜„đ—źđ—żđ—± 𝗰𝘂đ—čđ—čđ—Čđ—»
đ—·đ—źđ˜€đ—œđ—Č𝗿 𝗰𝘂đ—čđ—čđ—Čđ—»
𝗰𝗼𝗿đ—čđ—¶đ˜€đ—čđ—Č 𝗰𝘂đ—čđ—čđ—Čđ—»
đ—·đ—źđ—°đ—Œđ—Ż 𝗯đ—č𝗼𝗰𝗾
đ—°đ—”đ—źđ—żđ—čđ—¶đ—Č đ˜€đ˜„đ—źđ—»
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đ—˜đ—«đ—§đ—„đ—” đ—–đ—›đ—”đ—„đ—”đ—–đ—§đ—˜đ—„đ—Š:
đ—șđ—¶đ˜đ—°đ—” đ—żđ—źđ—œđ—œ- 𝗼đ—șđ—Čđ—żđ—¶đ—°đ—źđ—» đ—źđ˜€đ˜€đ—źđ˜€đ˜€đ—¶đ—»
đ—·đ—Čđ—Œđ—» đ—œđ—¶đ—čđ—±đ—Œ- đ—ș𝘆 đ—»đ—źđ—șđ—Č
đ—°đ—”đ—ź đ—”đ˜†đ˜‚đ—»đ˜€đ—Œđ—Œ- 𝘀𝘄đ—Čđ—Č𝘁 đ—”đ—Œđ—șđ—Č
đ—œđ—Œđ—Œđ—»đ—Ž đ˜„đ—Œđ—Œđ—»đ—”đ—Œ- 20đ˜đ—” 𝗰đ—Čđ—»đ˜đ˜‚đ—żđ˜† đ—Žđ—¶đ—żđ—č
đ—žđ—źđ—»đ—Ž 𝘁𝗼đ—Č đ—șđ—Œđ—Œ- đ—Żđ˜‚đ˜€đ—¶đ—»đ—Č𝘀𝘀 đ—œđ—żđ—Œđ—œđ—Œđ˜€đ—źđ—č
đ—°đ—”đ—ź đ˜€đ˜‚đ—»đ—Žđ—”đ—Œđ—Œđ—»- đ—Żđ˜‚đ˜€đ—¶đ—»đ—Č𝘀𝘀 đ—œđ—żđ—Œđ—œđ—Œđ˜€đ—źđ—č
đ—č𝘂𝗾đ—Č đ—±đ—źđ—»đ—Č𝘀- đ—Žđ—¶đ—čđ—șđ—Œđ—żđ—Č đ—Žđ—¶đ—żđ—č𝘀
đ—±đ—Čđ—źđ—» đ—łđ—Œđ—żđ—Č𝘀𝘁đ—Č𝗿- đ—Žđ—¶đ—čđ—șđ—Œđ—żđ—Č đ—Žđ—¶đ—żđ—č𝘀
đ—°đ—”đ—żđ—¶đ˜€đ˜đ—Œđ—œđ—”đ—Č𝗿 đ—”đ—źđ˜†đ—±đ—Čđ—»- đ—Žđ—¶đ—čđ—șđ—Œđ—żđ—Č đ—Žđ—¶đ—żđ—č𝘀
đ—±đ—źđ˜ƒđ—Č 𝗿𝘆𝗮𝗼đ—čđ˜€đ—žđ—¶-đ—Žđ—¶đ—čđ—șđ—Œđ—żđ—Č đ—Žđ—¶đ—żđ—č𝘀
𝘀đ—Čđ˜đ—” đ—°đ—Œđ—”đ—Čđ—»- đ˜đ—”đ—Č đ—Œđ—°
đ—żđ˜†đ—źđ—» đ—źđ˜đ˜„đ—Œđ—Œđ—±- đ˜đ—”đ—Č đ—Œđ—°
đ—·đ—Čđ—Œđ—» đ—·đ—źđ—Č đ—·đ—Œđ—Œđ—»- đ˜đ—”đ—Č 𝗮đ—čđ—Œđ—żđ˜†
đ—·đ—Œđ—Œ 𝘆đ—Čđ—Œ đ—·đ—Čđ—Œđ—»đ—Ž- đ˜đ—”đ—Č 𝗮đ—čđ—Œđ—żđ˜†
đ—”đ—ź đ—±đ—Œ 𝘆đ—Čđ—Œđ—»đ—Ž- đ˜đ—”đ—Č 𝗮đ—čđ—Œđ—żđ˜†
đ—Čđ—±đ—±đ—¶đ—Č đ—șđ˜‚đ—»đ˜€đ—Œđ—»- đ˜€đ˜đ—żđ—źđ—»đ—Žđ—Č𝗿 đ˜đ—”đ—¶đ—»đ—Žđ˜€
𝘀𝘁đ—Č𝘃đ—Č đ—”đ—źđ—żđ—żđ—¶đ—»đ—Žđ˜đ—Œđ—»- đ˜€đ˜đ—żđ—źđ—»đ—Žđ—Č𝗿 đ˜đ—”đ—¶đ—»đ—Žđ˜€
đ—”đ—źđ—żđ˜ƒđ—Č𝘆 đ—žđ—¶đ—»đ—žđ—čđ—Č-đ˜€đ—źđ—Żđ—żđ—¶đ—»đ—ź đ˜đ—”đ—Č 𝘁đ—Čđ—Čđ—»đ—źđ—Žđ—Č đ˜„đ—¶đ˜đ—°đ—”
đ—”đ—źđ—żđ˜ƒđ—Č𝘆 đ—žđ—¶đ—»đ—žđ—čđ—Č- đ—°đ—”đ—¶đ—čđ—čđ—¶đ—»đ—Ž đ—źđ—±đ˜ƒđ—Čđ—»đ˜đ˜‚ïżœïżœïżœïżœđ—Č𝘀 đ—Œđ—ł đ˜€đ—źđ—Żđ—żđ—¶đ—»đ—ź
đ—»đ—¶đ—°đ—”đ—Œđ—č𝗼𝘀 đ˜€đ—°đ—żđ—źđ˜đ—°đ—”- đ—°đ—”đ—¶đ—čđ—čđ—¶đ—»đ—Ž đ—źđ—±đ˜ƒđ—Čđ—»đ˜đ˜‚đ—żđ—Č𝘀 đ—Œđ—ł đ˜€đ—źđ—Żđ—żđ—¶đ—»đ—ź
đ—čđ˜‚đ—°đ—¶đ—łđ—Č𝗿 đ—șđ—Œđ—żđ—»đ—¶đ—»đ—Žđ˜€đ˜đ—źđ—ż- đ—°đ—”đ—¶đ—čđ—čđ—¶đ—»đ—Ž đ—źđ—±đ˜ƒđ—Čđ—»đ˜đ˜‚đ—żđ—Č𝘀 đ—Œđ—ł đ˜€đ—źđ—Żđ—żđ—¶đ—»đ—ź
đ—żđ—¶đ—Œ- đ—Žđ—Œđ—Œđ—± đ—Žđ—¶đ—żđ—č𝘀
đ—žđ—¶đ˜ đ—°đ—Œđ—»đ—»đ—Œđ—ż- đ—źđ—°đ˜đ—Œđ—ż (đ—»đ—¶đ—°đ—ž đ—»đ—Čđ—čđ˜€đ—Œđ—»-đ—”đ—Čđ—źđ—żđ˜đ˜€đ˜đ—Œđ—œđ—œđ—Č𝗿)
đ—șđ—¶đ—»đ—”đ—Œ- đ˜…đ—Œ,đ—žđ—¶đ˜đ˜đ˜†
𝗮đ—čđ—Čđ—»đ—» đ—żđ—”đ—Čđ—Č- đ˜đ—”đ—Č 𝘄𝗼đ—čđ—žđ—¶đ—»đ—Ž đ—±đ—Čđ—źđ—±
đ˜€đ—”đ˜‚đ—»đ˜đ—źđ—żđ—Œ đ—°đ—”đ—¶đ˜€đ—”đ—¶đ˜†đ—ź- 𝗼đ—čđ—¶đ—°đ—Č đ—¶đ—» đ—Żđ—Œđ—żđ—±đ—Č𝗿đ—čđ—źđ—»đ—±
đ—żđ˜†đ—Œđ—”đ—Čđ—¶ đ—źđ—żđ—¶đ˜€đ˜‚- 𝗼đ—čđ—¶đ—°đ—Č đ—¶đ—» đ—Żđ—Œđ—żđ—±đ—Č𝗿đ—čđ—źđ—»đ—±
𝘀𝘂𝗮𝘂𝗿𝘂 đ—»đ—¶đ—żđ—źđ—Žđ—¶- 𝗼đ—čđ—¶đ—°đ—Č đ—¶đ—» đ—Żđ—Œđ—żđ—±đ—Č𝗿đ—čđ—źđ—»đ—±
đ—Žđ—¶đ—»đ—·đ—¶ 𝗾𝘆𝘂đ—ș𝗼- 𝗼đ—čđ—¶đ—°đ—Č đ—¶đ—» đ—Żđ—Œđ—żđ—±đ—Č𝗿đ—čđ—źđ—»đ—±
đ—șđ—źđ—·đ—Œđ—ż đ—čđ—¶đ—čđ˜†đ˜„đ—”đ—¶đ˜đ—Č- đ—¶đ˜‡đ—Œđ—șđ—Żđ—¶đ—Č
𝗯đ—čđ—źđ—¶đ—»đ—Č đ—±đ—Č𝗯đ—Čđ—Č𝗿𝘀- đ—¶đ˜‡đ—Œđ—șđ—Żđ—¶đ—Č
đ—čđ—Œđ˜„đ—Čđ—čđ—č 𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗰𝘆- đ—¶đ˜‡đ—Œđ—șđ—Żđ—¶đ—Č
đ—°đ—”đ—źđ˜€đ—Č 𝗮𝗿𝗼𝘃đ—Č𝘀- đ—¶đ˜‡đ—Œđ—șđ—Żđ—¶đ—Č
đ—čđ˜‚đ—°đ—¶đ—łđ—Č𝗿 đ—șđ—Œđ—żđ—»đ—¶đ—»đ—Žđ˜€đ˜đ—źđ—ż- đ—čđ˜‚đ—°đ—¶đ—łđ—Č𝗿
đ—±đ˜†đ—čđ—źđ—» đ—Œđ—Żđ—żđ—¶đ—Čđ—»
đ—șđ—¶đ—°đ—”đ—Č𝗼đ—č đ—čđ—źđ—»đ—Žđ—±đ—Œđ—»-𝗼đ—șđ—Čđ—żđ—¶đ—°đ—źđ—» đ—”đ—Œđ—żđ—żđ—Œđ—ż đ˜€đ˜đ—Œđ—żđ˜†
𝘁𝗼𝘁đ—Č đ—čđ—źđ—»đ—Žđ—±đ—Œđ—»- 𝗼đ—șđ—Čđ—żđ—¶đ—°đ—źđ—» đ—”đ—Œđ—żđ—żđ—Œđ—ż đ˜€đ˜đ—Œđ—żđ˜†
đ—żđ—¶đ—°đ—ž đ—Žđ—żđ—¶đ—șđ—Č𝘀- đ˜đ—”đ—Č 𝘄𝗼đ—čđ—žđ—¶đ—»đ—Ž đ—±đ—Čđ—źđ—±
đ—±đ—źđ—żđ˜†đ—č đ—±đ—¶đ˜…đ—Œđ—»- đ˜đ—”đ—Č 𝘄𝗼đ—čđ—žđ—¶đ—»đ—Ž đ—±đ—Čđ—źđ—±
đ—±đ—żđ—Č𝘄 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗾đ—Č𝘆
𝗜 đ—±đ—Œ đ—œđ—żđ—Œđ—Œđ—ł 𝗿đ—Čđ—źđ—± đ—ș𝘆 đ˜„đ—Œđ—żđ—ž 𝗯𝘂𝘁 đ—¶đ—ł đ—¶'𝘃đ—Č đ—șđ—źđ—±đ—Č đ—źđ—»đ˜† đ—șđ—¶đ˜€đ˜đ—źđ—žđ—Č𝘀 đ—čđ—Č𝘁 đ—șđ—Č đ—žđ—»đ—Œđ˜„! 𝗿đ—Čđ—Ÿđ˜‚đ—Č𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗿đ—Č 𝗼đ—č𝘄𝗼𝘆𝘀 đ—Œđ—œđ—Čđ—»!!!
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shivasdarknight · 8 months
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Time for your regularly scheduled, "Killjoy Hour with Enya" because we're being a killjoy about Dawntrail (:
So first and foremost: fuck Square and the XIV team for taking this angle. We could've gone any direction and we're going with Colonizer The Adventure. They looked at what we did on the Steppe with Hien and went "let's do it again! :D"
Mandatory CW for racism as it pertains to the indigenous peoples of North America, Mesoamerica and South America, and discussion of the genocide enacted by Spain against Mesoamerica and South America.
(Sections and the first letter of each sentence have been bolded for ease of reading)
But to explain further: Square has a really awful track record with their take on Tural, the "New World", especially in their handling of the Mamoolj'aa that are in Eorzea. This has been an issue since ARR and has been frequently criticized due to their extremely anti-indigenous writing. The way they handle the Eorzean tribes (which have been known as "beast tribes" and "beastmen" for a good part of the past decade that XIV has been around, I Should Not have to explain to you why that's deeply problematic) is an issue in its own right, but I'll only touch on what we've seen of Tural in the game itself and why this doesn't bode well for Dawntrail.
Let's get the obvious one out of the way first, this fucking shit:
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For those unaware, this is the New World set. It's a craftable gear set from Heavensward that players can wear as a goddamned costume. I shouldn't have to be saying this in 2023, but this set has caused a great deal of controversy because it's a bastardization of plains tribe regalia. Square never should have added it to the game, but here it is and players constantly wear it in further offensive glams.
The only instance of this set being used with NPCs is in the Blue Mage quests and what we see of the Whalaqee. Again, to those unaware: the ARR Blue Mage quests are an extremely racist storyline that plays into white savior narratives and more offensive caricatures. The only representatives that we get to interact with of the Whalaqee are a little boy in this outfit (who's also extremely pale), and two Mamoolj'aa who are the lackeys of Martyn, the job trainer for Blue Mage - a white man! Further, the magic is notably not from Eorzea and is instead a cultural practice of the Whalaqee that Martyn took and turned into profit, and he's who you're supposed to work for. You are - yet again - considered a master of the practice, and this is written in mind with a default white man in mind considering Meteor being the stand in for everything. There is in-game appropriation of cultural practices, clothing, and tools but it gets worse the further you go into them.
The main plot of the ARR quests is that the Whalaqee are dying from a plague brought toTural by Martyn and other researchers with the Arcanist's guild 🙃 There were two trips: one to study Blue Magic, and one where people from the first trip went back because they found ceruleum in the sacred lands of the Whalaqee and began drilling for it. But remember: you only get to meet the Whalaqee through the two Mamoolj'aa and the Whalaqee child. The fate of the tribe rests in an Eorzean's hands because they put the medicine behind a bet for the further profit of Ul'dah. Win the carnival and make the owner a bunch of money and you get the medicine; lose, and they go raid the place for ceruleum and wipe out the tribe. It's a deeply offensive storyline that turns past and ongoing horrors that indigenous peoples - especially those of North America and Mesoamerica - have faced and are still facing into some trivial goal for a questline for a joke job that's solved through the white savior trope.
Then, of course, there's how the Mamoolj'aa are generally treated. Like the other ARR tribes and anyone the game doesn't consider civilized, their dialogue is written in broken speech patterns to reflect "lower intelligence." They're one of the only ARR tribes (next to the Qiqirn, who only got that somewhat through the SHB Qitari quests) that haven't gotten any kind of humanizing that the others have seen over the years (and even then, that's only been recently). Throughout ARR-HVW storylines, they're portrayed as extremely aggressive, are often throwaway mercs for hire around La Noscea, and they have them use this "cultural dance" of theirs that's described as extremely suggestive and is frequently used to sexually harass the white women of Eorzea. They're also seen in the Wanderer's Palace (Hard) as "aggressive barbarian" types who enslaved the Tonberries, which were originally the Spoken of Nym (so y'know, predominantly white society that became malformed and gangrenous tonberries). And your job as the Warrior of Light is, naturally, to exterminate them. There's other stuff like the naming of abilities they use (frequent use of barbarian/barbaric, which in it of itself is problematic), the totems and standards that you're actively encouraged to destroy, the shaman stuff + the fact that again: they're the only ARR tribe that never got the same kind of humanizing lens that tribes like the Sylphs got early on, or like the Amalj'aa got only recently.
Dawntrail looks to be as if it might be that humanizing effort that began in Stormblood and was most prominent in 5.X (ARR-SHB tribe side quests don't count as it's side content, not MSQ), but of course there comes the problem: beyond them never treating the Mamoolj'aa with any respect in the content we already have, they've already framed 7.0 as you meddling in the rite of succession for this new area. An area that is ruled by a two-headed Mamoolj'aa that we have to help overthrow (which is not new, as a two-headed Mamoolj'aa was already shown in The Wanderer's Palace (Hard) - but that one was portrayed as brutish, unintelligent, and played into inbred stuff as...the final boss of the dungeon who gets a special end dungeon cutscene to showcase the Tonberries brutalizing his corpse). And again, this plot thread isn't new! We already helped Hien do that to the Steppe back in Stormblood! This is yet another instance of the game treating imperialism and colonization as a fun thing for you to get in on, especially since they're using the setting and the getting to the setting as a summer vacation.
The fact that they are framing Dawntrail as summer vacation-like is insidious. You are a party of fantasy Europeans sailing to fantasy Mesoamerica/South America to meddle in their governing process.
And let's quickly go over that: the fact Tural is the "New World" as you search for "a city of gold."
These names are rooted heavily in European colonization. The idea that Europe is the "civilized Old World" and that the Americas were the "uncivilized, waiting-to-be-conquered New World" is what drove the colonization of the region, especially in Mesoamerica and South America. The term "New World" is inseparable from white supremacist narratives about the colonizers that engaged with the peoples of the Americas. It's bad enough that XIV introduced Tural as "the New World" to begin with and populated it with a fantasy race that's characterized by violence, a lack of intelligence, and sexual harassment + a gross caricature of North American plains nations, but they have now made it into the destination for the Scions' "summer vacation adventure"? So that you can go do an imperialism there, too? They even framed it as some tropical paradise as if that's not an extension of how colonization of these regions is perpetuated today through the tourism industry.
The other term - city of gold - was a myth that was used as the excuse to ransack Mesoamerica and South America. You've definitely seen it, as that was the entire plot of Road to El Dorado. It was under this pretense that Spanish colonizers decimated indigenous populations in the search of glory and gold. The search for the "city of gold" in the "New World" was a mass genocide - enabled through widespread massacre, and a vicious plague that wiped out 80% of just the population in Mexico alone.
In Mexico, the pestilence reached the Aztec capital, Tenochtitlan, before its fall in 1521. Pathogens also reached Peru, inciting a civil war among the Incas. Both of these situations were extremely favorable for Spain. The plague—cocoliztli—was the most devastating post-conquest epidemic in large parts of Mexico, wiping out somewhere around 80 percent of the native population.
(from "How Aztecs Reacted to Colonial Epidemics" by Richard Herzog on JSTOR)
This is not a subject to touch upon lightly in any respect. And for XIV to use it for their "fun adventure in a foreign land" is deeply inappropriate and frankly disgusting. But is anyone surprised? This is the same company that ignored the demands of the Saami council to remove the offensive Far Northern attire from the store.
What I'm disappointed the most about, however, is the number of fans chomping at the bit with angles about a tropical tourist destination, taking the summer vacation angle the devs are actively encouraging, and even stuff with pirates (do not get me started on how white pirates contributed to colonization of the Americas). As a friend put it very aptly: how do you see "new world," "city of gold," and a fleet of European ships sailing towards fantasy Mesoamerica and not get skeeved out at the prospect? This isn't something you should be excited about because they're having us role play imperialism Yet Again. But this time, it's all to the tune of "tropical summer vacation in a foreign land". And y'all are excited to join in?
I don't want the expansion to turn out this way. We barely have any information on this, I understand. But what I've laid out here is what the game has already done with regards to Tural's pre-7.0 depictions and what they've shown they want to continue perpetuating. If Dawntrail turns out to be somewhat decent (and it better be better handled than Thavnair and feature fewer white people populating the countries that are inspired by black and brown cultures), then fine. But as it stands, Square has not given us any reason to trust them in how they've handled their indigenous stories leading up to 7.0. This entire concept is rife with the potential to be extremely offensive and extremely racist, and the main takeaway most fans seem to have from this isn't that this is a gross depiction of indigenous cultures, but instead a fun summer vacation with the Scions?
Really?
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This new arc is making me get all sorts of ideas to explain how/why Minerva's kingdom stayed hidden despite their philosophy of loving knowledge
Romora's not had any kind of war since the leaders closed themselves off from the outside world and installed the wall of Mist, but they're constantly training in case of war. Obviously a nation of scholar-warriors would know that they can't rely on their old forms of weaponry, so there have been lots of new inventions and innovations in warfare despite not having any conflict for centuries.
Some of these would be pretty familiar to outsiders: high-capacity rifles and submachine guns, equipment for recon and other forms of combat, as well as communication besides DenDen Mushi and surveillance ON Denden Mushi. But secretly, there are weapons that the leaders keep very tightly under wraps to a) reduce the risk of panic among citizens or b) hundreds of objectors and a potential rebellion.
These weapons are ones that have currently NOT been seen or used so far in One Piece. Bioweapons and engineered viruses, which Romoran citizens have been unknowingly vaccinated against just in case a war occurs and it has to be released; airships and technology for sky-based combat; insidious weapons using robots designed to look like women and children as a way to disarm enenies; and most dangerously, atomic weapons.
A lot of preparation has gone into keeping these projects under wraps and there are dozens of countermeasures for if they had to be used according to the nation's leaders. Those in charge of the country's perimeter defenses have been constructing a lead-lined shell that, when activated, will cover the entire island and create artificial sunlight to perpetually keep the island insulated from radiation forever after using nuclear weapons on outsiders.
These kinds of weapons are SUPPOSED to be proposed to the public in order to democratically decide and debate if they should be created/used. But the government of Romora used some secrecy to have secret elections among themselves, and thus the public has no idea about these countermeasures.
Now that Minerva's escaped the kingdom and would potentially cause the World Government to make a move on Romora, she has no idea of the real consequences of those actions.
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555cat · 4 days
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new coping mechanism: looking up the meaning of flowers and plants on wikipedia because it's too beautiful to ignore
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sassysnitch · 3 months
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Twisted Wonderland Headcannons:
The Housewardens finding out they have a secret/long lost sibling
Authors note: I was thinking about how in 2012-2017 it was so common for people to make their OCs a long lost sibling of a canon character and that's how I got this idea. Enjoy(?)
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đŸŒčRiddle Rosehearts♄
-If Riddle had a sibling all of the sudden it would either be an younger sibling or half-sibling for this situation to make the most sense.
-In other words: For Riddle to have a sibling and not know of them it would either mean his father was cheating/left his mom for obvius reasons and got with someone else, OR, they'd have to be born before him and have gone somewhere before he was born.
-Now his reaction at first would definitelly be shock. Right after a lot of questions for his mother.
-Would also be really angry and perplexed on why he didn't know he had a sibling sooner
-Despite his anger and confusion he'd most likely see connecting with his sibling as an important responsability
🩁 Leona Kingscholar đŸŸ
-Now for this one, Leonas long lost sibling would need to be older or else it doesn't really work.
-I'd say either said sibling was actually born before him AND Farena but went missing and so the parents had to make another heir and then Leona came after, or, said sibling is actually the second born and went missing so their parents had Leona to try and fill in the void in their hearts from the dissapearance of the missing child.
-Leona would also defenitelly be suprised, as well as in disbelief
-If it turns out the lost sibling is still alive, Leona probably wouldn't really mind them, but also wouldn't really see the need to fully connect.
-(he cares for them a little, don't worry)
🐙Azul Ashengrotto🔼
-Either younger sibling, older sibling or half-sibling could work in this situation, especially considering Azuls dad is kinda out of the picture.
-Would choke on his food/drink when he finds out about them
-I feel like he'd be somewhat eager to get to know them, concidering he was a rather lonely child (He was probably one of those kids who'd ask for a younger sibling as a gift on the Holidays)
-if said sibling is anything like him they're probably gonna become bisness partners (yay~)
✹Kalim Al-AsimđŸ„„
-Considering Kalim has a bunch of siblings this can go either way
-The long lost sibling probably got kidnaped because of their status, survived, and couldn't find their way home until now
-Boi would be devistated to find out that one of his siblings was just, forgotten like that! He'd also feel sorry for what they went through
-But hey, once they go through a DNA test, (to really make sure they're an Al-Asim) all will be good, Kalim will also check up on them here and there, making sure they're adjusting back to their home well
⚗ Vil Schoenheit 👑
-this one is also kinda easy, since we do know that Vil has a dad, but there's not really any information about his mom
-They've probably just been living with Vils mom their whole lives and that's why he didn't know
-his reaction would be the most dramatic "what" you've ever heard.
-would be very set on meeting them, he'd also most likely be a very caring brother
-(that's it I don't have any more ideas for Vil-)
💙 Idia Shroud 💀
-The sibling would probably have to older than him and Ortho for this scenario to work
-Once he's told about a "long lost sibling" he'd at first think his parents are talking about the original Ortho, is confused and somewhat scared when he's told that the conversation is infact not about Ortho.
-once he's calm he'd call it an "Anime plot twist of the century"
-Said sibling probably didn't want to keep on the STYX family bisness and went out into the world to pursue a diffrent passion and that's why they never met.
-Idia isn't super pumped about meeting this "long lost sibling" of his but is defenitelly curius about them and what they decided to pursue in life
🐉 Malleus Draconia📜
-Also would have to be older than him
-Would not be the only one that's suprised, the whole Diasomnia gang would have questions
-The sibling was most likely abducted as a child and suddenly have turned up now, this one however would probably not need a DNA test as long as they have the classic Draconia horns.
-They'd probably also be autamatically respected by Sebek and Silver, meanwhile Lillia is trying to figure out when exactly they could have been born for this situation to make sense, would be a total dad to them afterwards.
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debbiecolon · 9 days
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My second tarnished oc, Rem. He usually wears the nightmaiden twin crown, but I wanted to draw his face unobstructed. His lore is super meaty and I'm quite happy with it!
Rem is a descendant of the Nox, people of the Eternal Cities. He was raised in Sellia, well versed in Night sorceries and taught melee combat by his 'sisters', Nightmaidens who warden over the town. His days are spent rigorously training his body and mind, honing himself into a warrior capable of subduing the most formidable of foes. Easily identified by both his silvery skin and hair, Rem appears more Silver Tear than anything, yet his golden eyes speak of his heritage, which he is incredibly proud of. And it is perhaps because of his heritage that Rem holds very little love for the Two Fingers and the Golden Order.
Rem had been fortunate enough to meet General Radahn in his youth, and had been privy to the demigod studying gravity sorceries. He grows to admire the flame haired demigod and leaves the Sellian territories for the first time when he offers his services to the General, as both sorcerer and swordsman. He stood among the Red Mane soldiers in battle, dressed in the silks of the Nox, looking elegant as a dancer yet fighting with all the ferocity of a beast. His end is met like many others in the Caelid wilds: witness to the scarlet flower bloom, particles of rot saturating the sky, clogging the beauty of the stars.
He wakes after centuries, called back from a peaceful void to return to the Lands Between. His memories are muddled, mostly lost, but through adventuring he remembers himself, for better or worse. He remembers that wretched flower, and he seeks a power strong enough to oppose it.
Rem is an extremely quiet and emotionally guarded tarnished who borders on selectively mute, speaking little more than he has to. He makes very few connections but is not unwilling to cooperate with his fellows, seeing such actions as a great way to garner much needed knowledge. He gauges everything like a threat but closely safeguards those who win his trust and affection, albeit from the shadows.
Beneath his guarded exterior is a deep longing to return to a home no longer there. Caelid is a fetid wasteland and nightmarish shadow of what it once was, and it is the only time that he openly expresses deep pain upon seeing the remains of a land he once loved so dearly. It hurts more than he can bear to know that Radahn lives as Caelid does--as a shell of his former self. He does not hesitate to participate in the Festival, seeing it as a final act of kindness for his beloved General. It is a hard fought battle, but Rem leaves with Radahn's blades as his trophy, swearing to wield the colossal weapons in battle.
Though Rem was raised in a town of sorcery and has proficiency with night magics, his greatest strength comes from physical prowess. He wields all manner of great swords and colossal blades, overwhelming his foes with sheer strength and relentlessness. He embodies duality, using stealth, life sapping mist and poison to turn the tide of what could have been a heavily skewed battle. He does not see underhanded tactics as something to frown upon. After all, combat (and life) does not play fair. Aside from sorceries, Rem has studied incantations on a surface level, enough to know hos to cast a poisonous mist or mend his injuries.
Rem's loyalty to the red haired demigod is akin to a love that is all consuming. It was a love that felt unrequited, but his unwavering belief and devotion to honing himself into the perfect weapon caught the interest of the towering Radahn. They seemed an unconventional pair, but they both bonded quite easily through combat and a shared love of animals. Leonard, Radahn's steed, received many a rowa berry and nose pats from Rem.
He felt as though he lost Radahn twice over. Once, against the one-armed valkyrie and her scarlet rot, and a second time at his own hand. Though it was a mercy, to grant his beloved demigod a warrior's end, a part of him died again with the General. The loss is an ever present ache that leads to the nihilistic belief that nothing in the Lands is worth salvaging.
The pain of loss and his keen awareness of the loss of many others drives Rem down the path of becoming the Lord of the Frenzied Flame. He does so, not to spare Melina from a fiery end, but to bring an end to it all, to be the Lord of the lost and the broken. To put to rest all that distinguishes and divides, hoping that perhaps the flames will consume him too.
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ghoulgeousimmaculate · 6 months
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Read DAY ONE ║CHOKE here.
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GIF by GIPHY
DAY TWO ║ BLEED
David x Fem!OC!Vampire
Fic Warnings ║ 18+ MDI (Dark Fic/SMUT) ║ Period Sex, Bloodplay (Graphic Descriptions of Blood During a Sexual Act), Oral Sex, and Slight Toxic Relationship (Based on the previous relationship of the couple).
Summary║It’s common knowledge David is obsessed with his bride. He loves every fiber of her being—down to her blood.
All Rights Reserved. Please Do Not Copy, Plagiarize, or Reproduce.
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Slick were the smears that David spread across Sis’ inner thighs. Warm were the rivulets that lazily dribbled down his chin. Between his bride’s legs was a waterfall of crimson, flowing and splashing over the folds of her plump vulva and David’s eager tongue as he licked her to orgasm. Sis lay in a mess of wet—the red satin sheets stained burgundy with a concoction of her menses and the liquid of her ecstasy. She moaned, cooing so wantonly into the air; the melodic ballad drifted into David’s ears, sending him into a frenzy he could not control. 
Blue eyes burned until they blazed gold and grew rimmed with red. Pale claws lengthened and penetrated the flesh of Sis’ thick hips, releasing more of the copper ichor that made him want to lose his mind. Sis ignited the blackest of hunger he and the boys ever felt in their century-old bellies—a desire that was a hollow void that was infinite and insatiable. Everything about his bride drove him insane, but the thing he was obsessed with—besides how good it felt inside her—was her blood.
David didn’t know what he loved about it more. Did he love how sticky it felt under the pads of his fingers when he painted with it, splattering it all over her body and the weathered cave stoned like Jackson Pollock would a canvas in his apartment? Was he titillated by the pungent scent of copper that lingered in the ocean air, wafting into his nostrils and haunting his sensitive senses? Or was he mesmerized by the sweet tang of her lust—sprinkled with the remainder of her innocence—that seasoned her milky plasma?
He didn’t know.
David just knew he reveled in the lewd feeling of her sloppy, wet juices sloshing and leaking over his hand—drank in the sound of the squelch his fingers and tongue made as he played her body like an instrument, with an elegant and skilled pump of his wrist. 
David couldn’t get enough. And if he were to be granted a last meal before he died at a hunter's hand, he’d request to dine on his wife. 
“You taste so good, my sweet—feel so good,” David murmured into Sis’ folds, his hot breath wafting over and teasing her neediest parts. “BLEED for me
” David purred as he hungrily pulled Sis’ bloody labia minora in his teeth, “BLEED for Daddy
.”
A high-pitched whine escaped her lips, crescendoing as David catapulted her to release with his ministrations. Sis’ tense muscles twitched, and her thighs shook as he lapped and nipped at her sensitive womanhood.
The enamel of David’s teeth was garishly stained pink, and the chubby cheeks of his baby face were slathered with red. David looked like a wild animal feasting on bloody carrion in the woods. The room looked like a murder scene—a bloody vision of destruction akin to something Detective Ross regularly investigated—one of the scenes of his coven’s many crimes. He imagined if Detective Ross walked in on them now, the old man would gasp in horror at the sight before sprinting to his cruiser to fetch the bottle of bourbon he kept hidden under his passenger seat for ‘emergencies.’
From the waist down, Sis was bathed in red—the innocent woman Ross tried to save was blanketed in her blood from her navel to her toes. As David ravaged the woman that occupied every waking thought he manifested, Sis’ walls spasmed and contracted, releasing a flood scarlet that David wanted to drown in. 
“T–that’s it, b–beloved,” David sputtered through waves of ruby, his tongue jutting out like frogs to lap up every raining drop. “BLEED for me.”
FIN.
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Taglist:
@misslavenderlady @britany1997 @6lostgirl6 @the-faceless-bride @dwaynesluscioushair @bloodywickedvamp @mickkmaiden333 @bezinful @thelegendarydarcylewis @pixielostboy @american-idiot-jpg @vampirefilmlover @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princessmads1820 @charlizekkelly @arenpath @fluffycows-enthusaist @charlottieellis @vomitgoth-snuff
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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 16 days
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So I finally made a slightly comprehendible list of my most common Lord OCs. Here's my powerful babies.
Lord Selene (Lord Moon. Companion is Luna, his Lunar.) Loves candy and is very socially anxious because his star wiped half his personality and most of his memories in the wipe.
Lord Hypernova (Lord Kill Code. Companion is Void, his Moon.) 30' tall megalith of an animatronic. Is a safe haven for dimension travelers and has a soft spot for versions of his children from other dimensions.
Lord Pulsar (Lord Eclipse. Companions are his Sun, Dawn, and an Eclipse from another world, Magnetar.) Age regresses, becoming quite kind due to Magnetar's influence. Loves cotton candy.
Lord Artemis (Lord Blood Moon. Companion is Telesto, his Moon.) Very kind, very depressed. Still traumatized and depressed from his twin dying in the star going off. Loves all travelers, though his universe is not particularly safe for them at most times with random spatial jolts.
Lord Styx (Lord Harvest Moon. Companion is Nyx, his Eclipse.) A mean son of a bitch at first. Gets better once he realizes Nyx has no memory. He's very sassy and snarky but kind to those who he was close to before the star went off (Lunars and Blood Moons).
Lord Luminous (Lord Lunar. Companions are all of his family; Incandescent [Sun], Phosphorescent [Moon], Fluorescent [Eclipse], Iridescent [Blood Moon], Opalescent [Harvest Moon], and Pearlescent [Kill Code].) An abusive asshole at first but, once confronted with his abuse of his companions, Luminous becomes much kinder and willing to cooperate and try to undo the century of abuse he put them through. Loves spicy food, does the one chip challenge like they're doritos.
Lord Fractal [yep I made a new one again] (Lord Solar. Companion is no-one.) Lord Fractal took in Lunar's star power in a desperate attempt to save Lunar from judgment by the Astral Bodies, which caused the powers to go haywire and wipe the universe. Lord Fractal existed in a small corner of his universe for fifty-three years in a 'paradise' where his family was no longer dead, though it was only an illusion. After those fifty-three years, he realized he was in an illusion of his own making and used his star powers to create a world for him to live on rather than floating in space (though he can't figure out how to recreate his family). Fractal is a very lonely soul simply going through the motions of his old life with his star powers giving him whispers of the life he used to have and illusions of the family he lost when his star power went haywire.
Lord Albedo [yes, yet another one] (Lord Ruin. Companion is his, Astronomy, his Solar.) Albedo became a Lord entirely by accident. When Lunar killed Eclipse 3.0, Ruin was much too close and ended up taking in some of Lunar's star power, thus leading the Astral Bodies to attempt to eliminate Albedo as a potential threat. However, the elimination went wrong, very wrong. When the Astral Bodies attempted to kill Albedo, the star power that Albedo had absorbed continued to absorb the Astral bodies' powers as well until all beings with star power ceased to exist. Because of this attempt on his life, Lord Albedo had a mental breakdown, which unleashed the star power he had absorbed into a destructive wave that wiped the universe of all but Astronomy, who was attempting to calm Albedo down at the time. Albedo has regular panic attacks, which Astronomy usually helps calm him down from. He's very anxious and traumatized, but Astronomy acts as his bodyguard and best friend to help Albedo feel safer and less stressed, since too much stress could potentially cause another wipe of the universe.
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soupthecoolest · 4 months
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CnD!
alright! so CnD, or "Creation and Destruction" is my homebrew "dnd" campaign!! i have dnd in quotes just cause. well my autism got too strong and i made an entire handbook with my own mechanics LMAO so it's really it's own Thing at this point. which is super cool n fun. after everything's been wrapped up i might publish that handbook but WE SHALL SEE.
anyway CnD is my own personal excuse to make my friends rp with me and my crazy ocs. SO.
it all started when the 11 party members crashed on the beach in a town they'd never seen before. looked totally normal until at the end of the first session they found a portal!
jumping in, that just... kept happening. small adventure, portal, repeat. with no end in sight. as the party began questioning why all this was happening, they met these two little FREAKS named mayhem and maelstrom. (i'll add all refs i have below!!)
anyway mae n may mentioned an elusive “She” that they’re working for, which led my players down an insane conspiracy rabbit hole in which they guessed 90% of hullabaloo’s vibe based on a PRONOUN. ONE PRONOUN I DROPPED I CAN’T TELL THESE MFS ANYTHING
next, they met pandemonium, (@weedsmokingbfs's oc!!! owe you my life muppy) who told them that: these portals aren't taking them place to place, it's transporting them around purgatory. and they've all died.
since then it's been up to the party to navigate their purpose, how to escape, all of it.
then they met bedlam, who explained to them this crazy prophecy and the reason they're all trapped there, which connects to a decision he made 800 years earlier.
enter callie.
my god this is so much to explain IM CRAZY ok. so callie and dee (@percexe) had been meeting in the void for centuries. he'd see callie there when he died and never knew why. 2 idiots had an unspoken pact to not talk about their pasts, but boy they should've!
it would've revealed that callie is actually named chaos, and directly related to all the other crazy clowns they'd meet across the campaign.
they're called the Story, the main 6 pantheon of gods i've set up in this universe! so we've got (in order of like. "hierarchy")
mayhem and maelstrom: gods of war and balance (he/they)
pandemonium: trickster god of illusion (he/it)
bedlam: god of magic and prophecy (he/him)
hullabaloo: goddess of joy, day, and spontaneity (she/her)
chaos: goddess of narration, night, and tradition (she/he)
the Story are basically the worlds most fucked up family, all considering each other brother and sister. in the beginning they were fine, but as time went on things just naturally got more and more messed, and now everything is just a nightmare
chaos and hullabaloo are kinda a tier above the rest of the story, part of their own subset called the Storytellers.
hullabaloo wanted more power and betrayed chaos, trapping her in the void for eternity, as she wanted to rule the universe herself. which all circles back to how callie met dee.
in the void, chaos didn't feel like himself and took on the name calypso, which is how she introduced herself to dee once they met.
and nobody found out anything out of a series of insane miscommunications and lack of info! what fun!
but now in the campaign timeline, everyone's basically caught up. we've finished the first season and are heading into the second in a couple weeks!!! also excuse if this feels rushed at all it's because it is <3 LMFAO there's just so much with CnD, this barely scratches the surface.
there's so much i couldn't cover here like the prophecy binding the party to purgatory, bedlam's entire role in that, the mages, etc. we're like 25 sessions in and so far i've planned 40 more. i am SO normal!!!!
PLEASEEE ask about it if you're curious!! im so insane about my campaign it is my pride and joy :]]
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in order there: hullabaloo, chaos, bedlam, pandemonium, and mayhem and maelstrom! ART CREDS for pandemonium and may&mae refs @weedsmokingbfs !!! once more muppy i owe u all my beans
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childishstudio · 1 month
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The Late-Night Carter's Show
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❁ 70's AU
❁Dacre!oc x black!reader/oc and Austin!oc X black!reader/oc
Tw: 18+ slightly racism, toxic relationships, sexual situations, cheating, etc

A/n note: This is a trailer for a remake of my first fic. so before you ask anything, read this!
Summary: It's 70s and a famous ex of the hottest star is starting shake things up with her first television interview!
WC:5.3K
The Late-Night Carter's show set was shining. Studio lights heating up the stage. The live studio audience takes their seats in crushed Velvet chairs behind the camera operators.  
 "Hurry people! Time is money, and we have none to waste!" The stage manager yells to his workers. The crew was occupied adjusting the fake potted plants. Placing the charcoal mugs with piping hot coffee onto the set's wooden desk. Flufflying out newly brought seaweed green throw pillows to jazz up on the stylish guests' couch. Scanning the microphones for any feedback, all the while, Mr. Carter was in the back. Running lines while waiting for his cue to enter and greet his crowd for the evening. 
This would be the most anticipated episode for the show. Career-changing for the entire production. There was no room for errors tonight. Every detail has to be perfect, none would be overlooked. Tonight all eyes across the state would be glued to their TV screens to see what Y/n L/n would say. Wanting to hear all about her ex, the well-known actor, musician, and dancer Levi Blackwell. 
The smoothest man to walk the planet, his jet black hair and stunning blue eyes could seduce from across the room. With a Greek god jawline, even Zeus couldn't buy. The man who sounds so alluring while holding a smile could make one's heart skip a beat or two. Sounding like a pure angel when he sings into a mic, his words feel like the cure to a bad day.  
Levi was an American sweetheart. The bad boy next door who caused trouble through his art in the name of self-expression. Yet, there lay a kind soul, who needed proper guidance underneath the rebel personnel. Levi was the catch of the century, and no one in their right mind would let him go. 
 Y/n, on the other hand, was a big-hearted individual who turned cold after ignoring the obvious for far too long. Escaping Tennessee and leaving her loved ones behind to follow her dreams in New York. Finally, allowing herself to put her time into building a solid foundation for her fashion career.  
Being the best choice for Y/n. She transformed into a new person, a powerful and self-supported woman. She wasn't the young lady who cried alone in a life-less home while Levi was living his life anymore. A woman who didn't need her family's protection or permission. No longer wanting to fit the mold everyone created for her. And never again will be that girl who lets others dump their responsibilities onto her. 
However, Y/n still missed her small town in Tennessee, her one-bedroom apartment next door to her two best friends, and having her godsons down the hall. Therefore, y/n always mumbling a hopeful prayer for her loved ones to be safe and forgive her for the heartbreaking choice she made. Sometimes wishing the big move came with better circumstances.
Yet, there were no regrets about moving to the Big Apple. Now, a magnificent fashion designer, trying to build up her resume and a better reputation for her brand. Determined to be a role model for little brown girls now.
Yet, this couple used to seem so happy when together. Always showing some affection towards one another when out. Levi always babbled on about his darling Y/n when asked, and she did the same. Until one day, it stopped. The burning passion they had vanished in a year. Some public disagreements or misunderstandings began popping up in the newspaper. People close to the couple grew worried for the lovers and the noiseless void developing between them. Despite that, they always seem to be doing swell again after a month. Nonetheless, it was a culture shock when the news broke about the young couple calling it quits after a few years. Yet, no solid information on the reasoning behind it. 
With only Rumors floating around. Further out of the ordinary, especially for Levi Blackwell. The people were desperate for some explanation from Blackwell or his team. His manager Kurtis looked at everything in Levi's life as a chance to make a buck by selling Blackwell's personal business to the highest bidder. This is one of the many reasons why y/n left the star. She didn't want her personal life to be a headline for the masses to judge anymore. Yet, some of her love for the black-haired man was still there. 
"Mr.Carter we need you on set." the stage manager screeched into his earpiece. The cameras began rolling. 
Mr. Carter settled into the brown leather chair behind his medium-sized desk. With the studio's air of suspense, “All right, ladies and gentlemen, we have a special guest tonight.” The television host expressed from behind his light oak desk, facing his apprehension crowd. Gleefully voicing, his bushy mustache pointing up with his smile. 
Y/n was behind the curtains of the guests' entrance, taking some long inhales to calm her doubts while shaking off the sweat forming on her hands. Attempting to recall the information she gained on set a few months back when talking about the host to her friendly coworkers. Y/n learned a thing or two about the Show's host. Planning to use the information against him if things go south. "You got this!" She whispered to herself as the crew hurried to finish any last-minute tasks.
Mr. Carter was not the most friendly talk show host. Especially with women of famous men, always finding a way to judge or down them. if they're not perfect obedient wives, who said nothing, and only nodded their heads when spoken to like his. Still, Y/n was trying to be optimistic about how things could go. Hoping Mr Carter would refrain from speaking about the previous issues Levi and her had. Or headlines circulating about her new relationship with her coworker. Wanting to talk about her business, her work, the real reason why she's here.
"This special lady helped the king of music come back to the limelight- and many hearts." Mr.Carter yelled out while the public viewers applauded. " The most famous ex of the superstar Levi Blackwell. Y/n-l/n everyone! ” He yelled out while directing his hand toward the entranceway. Y/n took a deep breath as her name was called. Now plastering on an artificial smile that no stranger would bat an eye to, as she strode out. 
  Joining the stage, the lips of the woman were curving up as the luminous spotlight followed her, casting a warm ray onto her body. Her plum-colored silk dress glowed under the white lights. Highlighting her features.Touched by the cold air blazing from the AC directly onto the bare skin of her back. Discerning faceless viewers of the crowd were already evaluating her by the look she was sporting tonight.   
Yet, Y/n was over the moon with joy about her first television appearance. Being on such a large platform, She's finally getting a chance to share her thoughts, regardless of the hate she may gain. Getting the option to live a fantasy of hers. Being more than a share cropper's wife and a mother to six kids. This is all Y/n used to dream of as a little girl on her family's ranch. 
 Living a life beyond the borders of Tennessee without her family's expectations. She no longer has to suppress her goals or dreams to fit in with others. Y/n was free, from everything or everyone who ever held her back including herself. Most importantly, she was away from the man who had broken her heart in so many ways.“Hi, thank you for having me, Mr. Carter.” Y/n conveyed in front of the dark, and the navy blue couch beside the desk as she shook the interviewer's hand. 
Mr. Carter quietly offered her a seat on the wool couch behind her, “Of course! It’s lovely to have you.” He sat in his chair as y/n took a seat on the sofa. When receiving a letter from y/n expressing her interest in doing an interview. Carter's team and he were thrilled to have an exclusive insider from the ex-fiancĂ© of the most captivating entertainer. Levi and his management have been radio silent before announcing his forthcoming picture.
 Also, there has not been a trace of y/n after she moved to New York two years ago, partly cause she was afraid of Levi finding her. Nonetheless, reporters have attempted to construct the reasoning behind the separation for years and where y/n could be. 
Encountering many obstacles to gain some information. Chasing down many relatives and close friends of the designer. However, none of them talked, including y/n’s mother and father, as they did not know the whole story. Nor did they want to know, Mr. and Mrs. L/n was only glad to see their daughter stopped seeing the star, feeling as if the pair were not a match.
Thus, Levi's manager, Kurtis left hints in some interviews or reports when asked, alluding to some toxicity in the relationship on y/n’s behalf. Wanting to keep his client seen in a good light and excuse Levi's reckless behavior before production started on his movie musical. 
 Nevertheless, Mr. Carter was ready to chow down on this ‘naive’ woman as any Hollywood host would. Trying to gain all the juicy details on the celebrity couple, so he would earn a big fat check from his studio . All he had to do was get y/n in the hot seat, make her sweat a little bit, and then she'd dish some dirt on her previous connection to her superstar ex. However, Y/n had other plans for how the evening would go. 
The interview started light and easy, discussing the simple things talk show hosts usually ask their guests. Carter sat his left elbow on the wooden desk, slouching, his head onto his right fist, showing a welcoming smile to the designer. “How has show business been treating you Ms. L/n"”
“I’ve been good, tired but good!” she beamed her pearly whites between glossy lips, bathing in the fluorescent lighting.
“Show business can be tiring, but I can tell you did a wonderful job helping out on the movie just from the trailer. You were the head of wardrobe design, correct?" Y/n said a quiet yes and thank you as Mr.Carter continued the questioning, “Was it Levi’s idea to bring you on as a designer?”
“ No, actually! It was his friend, Jason’s idea." She thought for a minute to explain the encounter. "See at the time, when they were starting to talk about the production, I wasn’t even on speaking terms with Levi." She paused, biting her bottom lip, avoiding disclosing any past drama attached to her ex. 
"Since I was busy in New York with my fashion career and everything, but It was one early Sunday morning." Y/n turns to the live audience emphasizing the detail " ‘m talking about the sun just came up y'all! Jason had called me and was like-” She started doing an impression of his voice, a deep country accent similar to his. 
“‘Hey Y/n! This is Jason, your friend gave me your new number. I gotta great opportunity for ya. Vi is doing a big musical flick. It’s kinda about him, kinda not. The whole thing is this journey of becoming a singer from the south. We would love it if you could do the costumes because you know his taste so well.” She held up her hand to imitate her yellow pastel phone in New York." Having an encouraging look on her face like the one she pictured Jason would have when he pitched the idea to her. “But I kid y’all not soon as he stopped talking, all I asked was ‘Which friend?’ ” She giggled beside the watchers, predicting this reaction.
 “I thought you were about to say you hung up." Both Mr.Carter and the audience chuckle. "Did he tell you which one it was tho?”
“Yeah, it was the one I expected, but I could never be rude to Jay like that, he’s a dear friend of mine. But after he told me, I tried to explain to him I was busy. He was like ‘ok well, we start production next month. So clear your schedule for then.’” 
“And you said?“ Mr.Carter yawned out.
“I told him I couldn’t, but that didn’t stop him. Levi and him don't take no for an answer too kindly." The audience softly laughs at Y/n as she gleefully grins. "So two weeks later he was at my apartment telling me to pack my bags and the next thing I knew I was on a flight to Cali!” The audience clapped at ending of the story.
“ Well, I can tell you the ladies appreciate your work. They definitely love Levi in the leather jumpsuit and the denim set." Mr.Carter said after the crowd’s cheers faded. " I can only imagine how wild the women on set were." Y/n had a deadpan look on her face from the comment but chose not to say anything. Knowing it wasn't the appropriate time to go into details about the work environment. Instead, she picked out her afro. Recognizing how the media would flip it, painting her as a jealous ex who is willing to make up lies about everyone's favorite celebrity and those working for him. "Were both of those outfit your ideas? “ 
“The jumpsuit was all Christopher and Barry’s idea, I just made it.” Y/n showed her award-winning smile while earning a small giggle from them as she reached for her mug. “But the set was all me. I wanted him to have the Deep South flavor mixed into the movie somewhere." 
She took a serious swallow of black coffee from the charcoal mug. smelling hints of card box, the cheaply produced beams came in, before letting out a short breath. The idea of talking about her fashion career involving Levi is quite terrifying to y/n. She knew it was bound to happen when she agreed to the project. Still, the one person who gave her so much pushback in her private life, not wanting her to pursue this dream, is why she's here. Never would she expect to have outside options. Yet she did it partly because of him.
"Denim always reminds me and Levi of our home." L/n's eyes lit up as she spoke about her work, forgetting the awful elements of her journey for now. "It's the working man material, no matter how it's styled. We saw our daddies and uncles wear it all the time. I wanted to show that, cuz at the end of the day, Levi is a hard-working man, and worked through a lot of things he doesn't talk about." 
Froze for a moment, bouncing her knee, feeling shaken by the statement as her thoughts reminded her of the past she wanted to leave behind."No matter what people might think or hear." The designer added a delicate tone. Noting back to the headlines she frequently saw over the past couple of years after the split, having mutual respect and care for Levi. Defending the man, even though Blackwell and she are not in the best place personally.
“Ah, I see. By the way, you look lovely yourself tonight!” Carter complimented, “So tell me what it was like working for the Levi Blackwell? The people need to know because we heard the rumors!” He expressed, giving y/n a troubling grin, the one usually presented before a guest reveals a juicy tit-bit for every gossip column to eat up. The audience was muted, sitting at the edges of their seat, waiting for Miss L/n's answer.
“Yeah
the whole process of the movie was a lot at times, to say the least." Y/n could tell Mr.Carter’s demeanor was changing to show his true colors. Tapping his fingertips at a speedy rate, the host was becoming more eager for the details.
“Aww Come on, dear we need more. Right people?” He asked as the faceless crowd began to clap in agreement. 
“Oh you’re trying to get me in trouble huh? “ she let out a small chuckle, rubbing the wool armrest of the deep-tone blue sofa before continuing “Um- rumors are just rumors sometimes y’know?” Y/n explained, her southern mannerisms radiating through. ” Plus some of them I saw going around didn’t even make sense." 
The designer shrugged off, noting the rumors she laughed at while on set. Finding it humorous the lengths people were going through to create a story out of nothing about her as she kept the real ones under wraps."I swear people honestly come up with the most creative things.” Beginning to show traits of nervousness about what to say without oversharing and keeping up the good girl act. She could easily fool a stranger into believing any emotion she portrayed. Y/n did it with Levi during their last months together. Her ex-fiance bought anything y/n said, if it included a pleasant smile, and whispered those sweet things he loved to hear. So a crowd of mindless sheep would be a piece of cake.
“Are you saying none of the rumors were true? At one point, you were in a romantic relationship with the multi-talented Levi Blackwell! The man every woman in the nation wants! But working for him? It must have been difficult to keep things professional.” Mr.Carter looked deeper into Y/n's eyes, trying to add some pressure on the woman to speak her truth. Knowing she had all the secrets on the star’s private life. “You can’t tell me there wasn’t any drama during filming, I just wouldn’t believe you. Which brings me to my next question. People have been wondering about, including ,me. why you and Mr. Blackwell called off the engagement. Care to comment?”
“No! I want to talk about my work.” she giggled while shaking her head at the man. Rumors are rumors Mr.Carter, and I kept everything professional at all times while shooting. Plus personal issues of mine are confidential information including the ones with my ex!”
“oh, you don’t know?” He let out a phony chuckle before speaking directly to the audience “This woman doesn’t know folks!” he notified them, holding a long frown and his arms up in the air to highlight his confusion. "From what I and the good people watching, heard everything wasn’t so professional on set." he highlighted the professional phrase as if he didn't use the correct one to describe the behavior in question. " I mean... you did start a new relationship with the producer and director of the film, Christopher Dawson." 
The ladies of the live audience howl and yell at Christopher’s name being said, the California Dreamboat they nicknamed him. Good-looking, had a great sense of humor, and had creativity like no other, was Christopher Dawson that everyone else saw. Y/n saw so much more than the guy at the Hollywood Premier parties. The man who made the simplest things feel so breathtaking and never had a problem with seeing things in different ways. 
 “ Ladies, calm down, save this excitement for next week's guest. He's really a hoot, I promise!” He orders the crowd as they all laugh it off. Then Mr.Carter shifts his look back to y/n, "Should we call you two friends with many benefits instead Ms.L/n? I mean we all saw the pictures in the tabloids! Come on, give us something!” He begged, having a goofy smile as Y/n awkwardly giggled along, lightly chewing the inside of her cheek before the show went to a commercial break.
——————————————————————————————————
Her friends and family crowded in front of the television screen, watching the broadcast backstage in the studio’s green room. Seeing a new shade of nervousness on the woman's face they never witnessed before. Wondering if she was pretending or not and if she could turn this around in her favor.
“Shit, she's sweating like a sinner in church out there!” Sade, one of Y/n's best friends she met in high school, expressed to break the tension in the room as her guests broke away from the screen. "and I ain't never seen her sweat before." She cried, explaining to the others in the space.
“Who the fuck asks questions like that during an interview that's supposed to be about her job,” Mary, an upcoming writer on Levi's new movie, questioned. She was standing behind one of the cushion armchairs. Her hand gripping tightly to relieve some tension as she bounced on the balls of her feet, fearful of how this could play out.
“ Ugh! This is too much! " Nia blurted. Pacing back and forth on the muted gray carpet. "God, someone give me a cigarette now!” she requested, darting around the room to see who had one to spare.
“I can’t believe y’all let her go on some nosy ass talk show like Mr.Carter,” Sade scolded, glancing between Christopher and Barry. Then taking a Newport cart out of her black purse that matched the romper she was wearing. Before passing it to Nia, hoping it would relax the anxious woman.
“It was Y/n’s idea” Barry, Christopher's long-time friend, and co-director of the film proclaimed. “She'd thought it would be good press for the movie, her being his ex and all.” He voiced, trying to argue his side of the issue. “ Plus it's a part of her job now, regardless of the outcome.” He's standing next to the bar, making himself his second drink of the night.
“So, making a fool out of yourself on television is a job requirement in Hollywood now?” Dawn, y/n's sister-in-law asked Barry, taking the drink out of his hand before he could even get a sip.
“Yeah, her ex did it all the time,” her husband sitting in the armchair in front of them, replied. Y/n's family didn't love the idea of her being in Hollywood or dating a famous man. They were country folk, after all. They didn't believe in fast money, a luxurious lifestyle, or living above your needs. So, when Y/n started bringing Levi around things got a little heated between the family.
“My poor baby, I hope she doesn’t cry.”Y/n’s mother said holding her cheeks while her father held his wife by his side. "but I told her not to mess with these artsy fartsy folk." she looked at all her daughter's new and old friends who were all part of the arts. “ No offense, y'all lovely folks and mighty kind” Y/n's mother quickly added in her southern accent. 
“Yeah none taken Mrs. L/n,” Everyone said in unison except for Christopher. Dawn and Sade were used to how Y/n's mother functioned, and the others were prepared for the behavior since her brother Michael had warned them beforehand.  
However, Christopher was sitting back on the dressing room couch with a calm aura around him and lit cigarette in his left hand. In a state of deep thought, trying to remember what was shown on the screen a few seconds ago. Y/n's lip gloss and the diamond earrings he recently gifted her glowing against the studio lighting. How the dark plum-colored dress the woman made herself complemented her complexion perfectly. How pretty her smile looked on screen. He knew Y/n would be ok with handling a nosy talk show host, learning early on to never ask too many questions about her personal life. 
“Everyone just relax! She’ll be fine. She knows what she’s doing." He raised his voice to control the room to stop the pointless conversations unfolding while positioning himself back up. Taking their attention away from the television or one another to listen to him. 
"Mr.Carter loves making his guests feel powerless so they will spill their secrets. All y/n is doing is letting Mr. Carter think he has her between a rock and a hard place. trust me by the time this is done, he’ll be the fool. Y’all underestimate that girl” He explained, putting out his cigarette, knowing he promised y/n to quit a few weeks prior.
“Danm, I see why y/n ain't trying to let you go," Dawn added before taking a sip to calm down the rush of excitement she felt hearing the man speak with such power. Michael was now eyeballing Dawn, sensing his wife was a little too happy to listen to another man yelling.
Nia took her lit cigarette from her mouth to let out some smoke. "Damn! you should have done that more on set, I would've listened more.” She joked, elbowing the man's forearm. "Shit kinda hot."
“Wait Christopher, did you say ‘y’all’?” Barry questioned with a grin on his face, knowing his friend picked up the work from his lady friend Ms. L/n. Dawson gave a side-eye to his old friend while everyone else in the room laughed at the conversation. 
Mary snapped her fingers to gain everyone’s attention back to the show as it faded in.“Shh, it's back on!” She clutched the remote to turn up the volume 
——————————————————————————————————
“Yeah, I did get pretty close with him.” Y/n agreed, not knowing how to describe the relationship between Christopher. Since the relationship stuck in a limbo, due to Y/n's hesitation from past experiences. She wanted to vocalize her feelings for the man. Yet, restrained herself from talking about the relationship due to the fear of how the media would portray it. 
She cherishes her relationship with Dawson truthfully. Similar to first love. Being the first man y/n became friends with then turned into a mutual romance, never fully one-sided. She refused to share it with the world, not even wanting her mother and father to know about the connection. Regardless of the situation they're in, He was L/n's California sweetheart. Wanting no outside criticism that may ruin this image for her. 
“How does Levi feel about the relationship?" Mr.Carter asked while looking into her eyes, detecting a sense of nervousness coming through them.
“ I really don't know." Y/n giggled. Feeling so fierce over how easy it was to challenge the host."The only opinions that matter are mine and Chris." The designer clarified as she crossed her legs, putting her hands together into her lap. "Plus, why would Levi feel any way about my relationship with Mr.Dawson since He is happily engaged after all!" Y/n giggled, getting tired of this charade of a plain gullible woman. 
She's ready to spice things up. Flip the switch and give Mr. Carter a taste of his own medicine. Now, Y/n isn't a revengeful person. Never that, she believes everyone deserves a second chance or a redeemable moment, even got her in some tricky situations before. However, Mr Carter has been slandering her name far too long. Y/n was fed up. Exhausted from people looking at her as some bad woman, just because of this bushy man. it was time for her to get him back by simply ruining his credibility.   
"But you know! Since we’re trying to get up close and personal with each other!” Y/n said in a calm tone while trying to keep her cool. Examining for a second to consider which method to use for wrapping up this discussion. Tired of wasting her time talking about petty things in her life. Darting her sharp eyes back to the host, she was ready to shoot down her next target.“Tell me, how is Mrs. Carter?” She gave him a wide beam her family was used to, and knew what it was indicating. 
“Oh, she finna get him! ” Y/n’s family and Sade yell at the tv when the camera panned to the woman. Knowing the smile all too well. They had seen it all the time at the card table. Always signaling the end of a hand, and their share of the pot would be jiggling around Y/n's change purse shortly after.
“She’s great and will be thrilled to know one of my guests finally asked about her! Now you Ms. L/n, I want to know how Christopher feels about your sons?”
“Glad to hear! I would answer that lovely question. But let me ask you something! Do you know what they say about the people in Hollywood?” Y/n placed her arm on the desktop and put her head against the balled-up fist. Moving her gaze away from the host to the viewers, grinning directly into the camera.
“they say many things about us in Hollywood, but what have you heard?” the man said, being blind to the trap y/n was setting.
Y/n slides back into her seat, “People love to tell everybody’s business out here. Especially the ones you tried to pay to keep quiet.” Y/n’s attention went back to Mr.Carter, and her voice changed from shaky to a powerful tone
“Now where did you hear a silly thing like that from?“ He tightly smiled. Carter was examining y/n from top to bottom. Trying to figure out how this woman was getting under his skin so effortlessly. 
“Your old assistant,” Y/n showed him a wicked smile while replying, causing him to sweat as he drank his black coffee. “So how is your m-“
“My what? My mistress?" Y/n was interrupted by Mr.Carter, fear written all over his face, and trying to mask the emotion behind the mug in hand. Y/n wasn't fooled nor surprised by his reaction, not like the audience, she even wished for such. " You must have me confused with another host. I’m no longer cheating on my wife!” He hollered in a hurry, spitting out his coffee. With a hint of whiskey, he'd poured in before filming, making sure none of the skeletons from his closet came out to play.
Y/n poked out her bottom lips as she tried to keep a straight face while shaking her head no. “Cheating? Who said anything about cheating Mr. Carter?” She asked, placing her hand on her chest. Knowing she had him in a corner he couldn't get out of.
He was cheating on his spouse like any other star in Hollywood, no big deal! However, exposing the talk show host, who's presenting himself as a wholesome family man, of a cheating scandal, will, in fact, terminate his career. "I was going to ask about your mother since I'd heard she was very ill lately," Y/n stated before raising her newly manicured hand to cover her heart to signal a fake expression of amazement.
Yet, the audience was flabbergasted over his statement. Never would they think the wholesome family man, who goes to church every Sunday, would lay with another. How disgraceful! The news would have a field day with this. The cameramen of the crew tried to snap out of their frozen states and return to their jobs as the next big headlines were being written. The world's shaken by the highest-watched television host admitting his private affairs."Never would have I'd thought you'd be cheating...but I'd use to say the same thing about someone else in my life!” 
 With a blinkless glance with wide eyes, her response allowed the host to realize what he just revealed on live TV. The man leaped out of his seat. And almost out of his midnight black suit made by a local fashion house. “WAIT, CUT TO COMMERCIAL!” Mr. Carter cried to the lead operator of the control panel , standing up and looking into the camera with a stupefied look on his face. He's doomed. No reporter could flipped this and save him from a muddled end to his career. This was definitely going to be the last episode of the late-night Carter show. 
As the camera turned back to her. Y/n smiled, saying good night and blowing a kiss to the viewers at home. Then the feed cut to a commercial selling a self-help book for troublesome marriages. Her plan worked, getting Mr. Carter off the air for bad-mouthing her abilities as it created some buzz about the upcoming project, it was a brilliant plan.
“Damn!” Y/n’s family and friends wailed, their jaws on the floor. Y/n could be a tad brutal when needed. Yet, her loved ones never envisioned her outright manipulating a man into canceling his own show.
 Christopher chuckled at their reaction, strolling past them to the door to be the first one to greet the troublemaker, white roses in hand.“Told ya so!” He added, leaning against the doorframe and watching Mr. Carter create a trail of tears of humiliation to his dressing room.
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asykriel · 8 months
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Love is the Death of Duty - 13.
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Âź do not repost or translate !
☆ Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Male! Targaryen OC
☆ Status: Ongoing 
☆ Summary:  
“He is half of my heart.”
War made monsters of them all, but it also brought the two second sons together in a flurry of death, love, deceit and delusion. The story of Aemond Targaryen and the eldest son of Daemon and Rhaenyra, Maegor Targaryen, second of his name. 
☆ Warnings: Sexual content, explicit violence, dark themes, targcest etc.
☆ AO3 ☆ || ☆ Wattpad ☆
☆ CHAPTERS: (Prologue) / ( 1 ) / ( 2 ) / ( 3 ) / ( 4 ) / ( 5 ) / ( 6 ) / ( 7 ) / ( 8 ) / ( 9 ) / ( 10 ) / ( 11 ) / ( 12 ) / ( 13 ) / ( 14 ) / ( 15 ) / (16 - WIP)
☆ Masterlist ☆ ||  ☆ Spotify Playlist ☆
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CHAPTER 13
The air is thick with an eerie stillness, broken only by the distant whisper of the wind. Before him lays the ruinous silhouette of a city shrouded in darkness. Twisted spires and crumbling walls seem to echo the weight of centuries past and desolation.
Moonlight casts an eerie glow upon the ruins, turning shadows into remnants of the forgotten. Maegor moves through the city, as though in a trance, drawn by whispers and an unseen force towards a destination he cannot fathom.
He walks until he finds himself inside a giant castle, standing in a vast hall, its walls adorned with tapestries that tell the stories of his family's history. He walks among the depictions of dragons and Targaryen conquerors, his footsteps echoing in the silence against the marble. But as he gazes upon the scenes, they warp and twist, coming alive with the sounds of battle cries and dragons roaring.
Maegor stops to stare in awe, mesmerized by the shadows of men and beasts alike, as they begin to dance against the ceiling.
"Help me!"
A cry from the dark gets his attention and Maegor forgets all about the tapestries in an instant, his legs carrying him forward until the hall shifts into a void of pitch black, nothing desciphrable, not even the ground he steps on.
Suddenly, amidst the darkness, the same Targaryen ancestors emerge looking like ghastly specters, standing still as Maegor walks in the middle of them. He recognizes Aegon the Conqueror, Rhaenys and Visenya, Maegor the Cruel, Jaehaerys I.
Then he stops as he realizes he starts passing by his own family when Viserys shows up before him. Next to his grandfather, Daemon, stands tall, his features a blend of that cunning charisma and danger, he knows so well. Beside him, his mother, Rhaenyra beacons with arms wide open, and he can feel the warmth coming from her. Then he sees all of his brothers smiling with the innocence of youth, the laughter of the youngest ones echoing in the emptiness around them.
But there is one figure that stands apart, his presence casting a shadow over the rest.
Aemond.
His one eye regards him with an intensity that Maegor cannot decipher. Their bond shreds through him. Aemond's gaze is full of yearning and love for his nephew, leaving him with a profound sense of longing.
"Qybor." Maegor calls out for him with no avail. The specter does not answer, instead, his uncle, along with the rest of the ghastly silhouettes, turn around, pointing at something.
A silver haired child. Standing in the dark with his back facing Maegor.
"You there, kid!" He calls out to the child, but he remains still.
Maegor moves towards him, placing his hands on the child's shoulders. He spins him around and lets go in an instant, taking a step back, startled at the realization. The same odd colored eyes, the same clothes he wore years ago.
The child is him.
A sinister cackle suddenly echoes through the dark and Maegor's child self starts trembling, running to hide behind the present Maegor, clinging to his side in fear as he buries his face into his clothes.
"Show yourself!" The Prince barks, one hand on the hilt of Nightbringer and the other, protectively covering the boy's ears.
Maegor Targaryen.
The same voice hisses, right in his ear, its tone a blend of mockery and malice.
The Prince turns around, unsheathing his sword to cut to whoever is behind him. But instead of slicing through flesh, the valyrian sword merely swishes through the air.
The darkness around them seems to become even darker, an abyss that seems to stretch infinitely in all directions, a sense of danger looming in the air.
A faceless figure emerges from the shadows, its form shifting and contorting, its features a swirl of indistinct shapes. Long black locks cascade down its shoulders like a shroud, framing a visage that remains obscured. The figure's presence is suffocating, filling Maegor with dread.
You are destined to be alone, Prince of nothing.
The bonds you hold so dear will crumble.
The entity chuckles at him, as it starts to circle around, black locks moving in the air like they have no weight.
The child falls to the ground on his knees, covering his eyes as he starts crying.
"Who are you!?" Maegor shouts in frustration, lunging after the figure with his sword drawn.
It disappears right before the blade touches it, causing the Prince to stagger as he desperately darts his eyes around, searching for the whatever demon came to mess with him.
"Please....help me."
Maegor turns his head towards his child self and widens his eyes in shock. The entity had its shadowy grasp on the boy, long clawed fingers dragging across his cheek. Flashes of Alliandra looming over him and doing the same gesture appear in Maegor's mind, gnawing at his sanity.
You will lose yourself.
The entity speaks, and its voice hits Maegor from all sides, multiplying into mocking echoes, clouding his head and driving him crazy.
The Prince snarls in anger and dashes forward. Before he can reach and save his younger self, dozens of hands, mangled and rotting extend out from the darkness, taking a hold of the boy and pulling him into the abyss as he screams in anguish while the shadowy figure cackles in delight.
"No!" Maegor shouts, but there's no use. The child vanishes and his screams die out, leaving him alone in the dark again.
Oh Maegor...No one can save you from the abyss.
The faceless figure whispers as it appears before the Prince again, its voice mocking a tone of pity.
Not even the one you hold closest to your heart.
"Who the fuck are you! What do you want?!" Maegor shouts again, furious and frustrated and confused. However the more he lets out his emotions bubble to the surface the more it amuses the entity.
Who am I? Who are you, Prince of nothing?
The grip on Nightbringer becomes painfully tight as he readies the sword again until something under his fingers begins to shift, the hilt of the blade starts moving, and the whole sword transforms into a large black snake, coiling around his forearm.
The snake strikes, piercing skin. Maegor winces in pain and throws it to the ground before it slithers away into the darkness. He staggers, just barely trying to stand on his feet as he retches, feeling the venom course through his body. It feels like deja vu, the same feeling when he got poisoned starts to unravel.
Maegor's fists clench, his teeth grit as he fights against the waves of doubt and despair that the entity plants in him with every word.
You will lose everything.
Relentlessly, the voice cackles, and amidst the torment, the specters of his family reappear, surrounding Maegor in a circle.
This time their faces are distorted, their expressions contorting into grotesque masks of despair and gore. Daemon glares at him, his dead expression full of hatred and disappointment, Rhaenyra's once warm smile turns into a cruel sneer, his brothers' eyes become hollow and empty.
You have failed them. You are unworthy of their love and trust.
The twisted images close in on him, their distorted voices blending into a cacophony of eerie whispers of accusation and laughter. The air becomes heavy with their presence, suffocating Maegor as he struggles to break free from their grasp.
Aemond's face remained unchanged, his eye fixed on Maegor, but this time with a cold gaze, full of distance, a gulf that seems impossible to bridge.
Maegor's heart races with panic, his chest constricting with a fear that he cannot escape. He tries to call out again, to demand answers, but his voice is drowned by the entity.
Even Aemond.
The taunting voice continues, its words a venomous hiss that pierces through his defenses.
How fragile the bond that hold you together. How easily it can be shattered by a single touch.
The figure's tone shifts, its mockery replaced by a syrupy sweetness.
He will slip through your fingers, just like water.
A clawed shadowy hand slices through the specter of Aemond and he vanishes like the mist in thin air.
"No! I won't let it happen!"
The darkness seems to press in on Maegor from all sides, suffocating him as the faceless entity's laughter fills the void from all sides. His chest heaves with a mix of fear and anger, his heart pounding like a drum.
"You won't break me!" Maegor's voice reverberates through the darkness, his words fueled by fury mixed with panic. He clenches his fists, the nails digging into his palms until they draw blood.
The faceless figure's form shifts and contorts circling around him, its cackles echoing through the void.
Oh, but you're already broken, dear Prince.
Broken by your doubts, your fears, and your desires.
"I won't let you control me demon!" Maegor sneers, panting as he tries to control his labored breathing.
The entity moves closer, its presence oppressive as it hovers just beyond the edge of his vision.
You can't escape your fate, no matter how hard you try.
The threads of destiny have been woven, and you are bound to unravel.
"Shut up!" Maegor's frustration is boiling over.
You cannot escape the darkness. It is a part of you.
His breath catches in his throat as he grapples with the implications of the entity's words. The darkness surrounding him feels painful, laden with his own doubts and insecurities. He fights to push them aside, to focus on the strength he knows resides within him.
"You're wrong!" He shouts in desperation as he starts running aimlessly through the abyss, trying to distance himself from the faceless figure.
Oh...am I?
A faint laughter echoes.
Maegor curses, falling to his knees from exertion. He heaves, trying to catch his breath until he feels something warm.
He lifts his hands, confused by the sickly wet sensation on his skin and clothes and jumps on his feet.
Blood. Pooling under his boots, pouring out of his palms and falling off his forehead, onto his face as he desperately tries to wipe it away.
The darkness seeps away revealing a vast and torn battlefield, red skies above him.
He gasps as he sees the mound of corpses under him. Mangled men and dragons alike, the banners of his house protruding between them as they pile up in the mountain he stands on top of.
Maegor trips and falls to the ground. Next to him, Aemond's lifeless body, stiff with a horrifying expression. Rotting and covered with flies and maggots.
"No more!"
In an instant, Maegor's eyes snap open as he lets out a scream. His body is drenched in cold sweat, tears flowing down his cheeks.
"My Prince! You have to lay still!" The urgent voices pierce through the haze of fear, and Maegor feels hands gripping his arms and legs, holding him down on the bed.
"No! Let go of me!" His voice rasps with a mixture of fear and desperation as he struggles against the restraints, his body writhing in an attempt to break free.
"Maegor! Get a hold of yourself!" He recognizes a familiar voice as a pair of strong hands grip the collar of his nightshirt pinning him against the bed.
His chest heaves with frantic breaths as he takes in his surroundings, his gaze darting around the dimly lit room. Familiar shapes start to form as his blurred vision gets cleared and he lets out a shaky sigh of relief as he recognizes his bedroom in Dragonstone and Daemon holding him firmly with a couple of maesters next to him. His father, looks down at him with concern etched across his features.
He's not trapped in that horrible nightmare anymore.
"Kepa..." Maegor's voice cracks, and his trembling hands reach out instinctively, seeking the comfort and safety of his father's embrace.
The Rogue Prince doesn't hesitate, wrapping his arms around his son and pulling him into a tight hug. His hand rubs soothing circles on Maegor's back, offering a sense of security and reassurance that helps calm the young Prince's racing heart.
"Shh ziry iksos sÈłz, ñuha tresy. Ao gƍntan sÈłz." Daemon murmurs, his voice a soothing balm that helps chase away the lingering remnants of the nightmare. He never saw him like this, not even when he was a small child, so afraid and vulnerable, begging to be cradled and kept safe.
Something is off and he's not sure if it's all due to the side effects of the poison.
Maegor clings to his father, his breath hitching as he tries to regain control over his emotions. The vivid images of his dream and the sound of that faceless demon still haunt his mind, the grotesque visions and taunting cackle refusing to fade completely from his brain.
"Thank the gods you're awake." Rhaenyra exclaims full of relief as she hurries, coming inside his chambers followed by Jace and Luke as the maesters step out of the way to let her approach the bed.
The Prince nods tiredly, clearing his dry throat as his family flocks around his bed.
It slowly becomes suffocating, every touch, every pat on the back, every sound starts to overstimulate his senses. Maegor's head begins to spin, full of drowsiness and a knot in his neck forms. He feels sick to his stomach as he begins retching, reaching after the bowl on his nightstand. Nothing comes out though and he sinks back against the pillows in defeat.
"The Prince needs rest, he's still feeling the aftermaths of the poison, I'm afraid." The eldest maester speaks
Despite the support surrounding him, Maegor's attention is drawn to a figure standing in the back and waiting patiently in silence. A figure whose presence exudes a sense of calm and understanding, a figure who has always been there, no matter the circumstances.
Aemond.
As his eyes meet his uncle's, Aemond's expression instantly softens, a faint, warm smile tugging at the corners of his lips. A silent message-one of gratitude, of trust, of the profound comfort.
In that moment, everyone else fades away, all of them become background noise as his focus narrows to one person.
"Qybor." Maegor calls out for him, rushing to sit up and trying to get off the bed to reach his uncle. But his body protests and his legs give out in an instant. Daemon has to catch him before he falls to the floor, helping him to sit on the edge of the bed.
Testing the waters, Aemond can no longer restrain his patience and he tentatively takes a few steps forward, pretending to ignore the wary frown of his sister and the sharp eyes of his uncle watching his every move.
"I'm here." The Prince comforts his nephew, his hands itching to get closer, next to his bedside. But he cannot, not with all the eyes on him and the tension in the air.
"Clear the room. I wish to speak to my uncle, alone." Maegor orders without thinking and the maesters immediately oblige even if they throw curious looks before they leave. His mother throws him a look as if he struck her.
"My son, you need rest." Rhaenyra insists, trying to keep the tone of her voice soothing. But there's a pang of obvious jealousy in her heart seeing how Maegor chooses Aemond's company instead of everyone else in the room.
"Mother please. Just for a little while" The Prince looks at his mother with tired eyes, pleading to be indulged.
That's all it takes for Rhaenyra to give in. He's suffering, he's in pain and barely escaped from the grasps of death itself, she can indulge his request, it's her son after all.
"Very well." She sighs and ushers her other two sons out of the chamber, looking behind at her husband with a curious look when he stays behind. Daemon only gives her a silent hand gesture as he's left with his son and nephew. What's he planning?
If he would be in full health, Maegor would argue with his father but right now he has no energy left, neither in his body nor in his mind to put up a fight. So he let's Daemon be.
Aemond is tense, he feels uncomfortable with the presence of his uncle and his ever vigilant gaze, but he tries to drown it out and focus on Maegor instead as he comes next to his bedside. He would want nothing more than to hold his nephew's hand at least, but he knows he has to refrain from such tender gestures when he feels that cold glare on the back of his head.
"How long was I out of it?" Maegor questions, throwing a curious glance at his father who's leaning with his back against the wall, close to his son's bed.
"This would be the fourth night." His uncle sighs tiredly.
He's been sneaking around at night and losing sleep to be by Maegor's side ever since he flew from Sunspear here. Not sparing himself any second to let his guard down or his worries fade and now that he can finally breathe relieved that the younger Prince woke up, all the exhaustion came crashing onto him.
"Hells. What about that bitch" The Prince grits his teeth as he recalls how Alliandra poisoned him. That's the last thing he remembers before everything went dark, her smug smile of victory.
"You don't need to worry about her. She's long gone, torn to pieces."
Maegor's frustration simmers beneath the surface, the desire for vengeance burning within him. Yet, he understands the nature of justice and the cycle it follows. He clicks his tongue in acknowledgment, aware that retribution always has its own ways of manifesting.
His feet tap lightly against the floor as he tests his strength. Slowly, his mind also regains its sharpness, faster than his body it seems.
A sense of panic grips him again as his psyche recovers.
"Saagael! Where is he?!" He grips his uncle's arms as he tries to stand, frantically seeking out his dragon as he can't recall his fate through the jumble of memories before he fell unconscious.
"Calm down boy, he's fine. Come see for yourself." Daemon's calm voice interrupts, drawing their attention. He points to the window.
Slowly Maegor relaxes and with Aemond supporting him so he doesn't stumble, with uneasy steps, he slowly makes his way to the window overlooking the clifftop. Outside, under the moon's glow he instantly makes out the sleeping forms of both the Cannibal and Vhagar. The weight of his chest lightens instantly.
Sensing his rider, Saagael stirs from his slumber and snaps his eyes open, lifting his large head. He shakes off the sleep, the spines along his neck moving with every ripple of muscle as he fixes the window with his sapphire gaze. A low rumble of contentment escapes his throat, acknowledging the Prince.
Ever since his rider fell ill, the Cannibal refused to move or eat, threatening to kill all the dragon keepers that tried to urge him to scrap on something when they came to feed Vhagar. He stood watch, always looking up at the window in the tower. Waiting.
An unbreakable bond that defies physical distance, but not a surprising one, not for Daemon at least, familiar to his own unnatural connection to Caraxes.
Maegor smiles weakly and sighs in relief as Aemond's support helps him return to the bed, their steps in sync as they navigate the room.
"Sit down." Daemon command draws their attention, as he leans off the wall to come stand before the two young Princes.
Aemond raises an eyebrow, giving him a cautious look, but obeys, taking a seat on the edge of the bed next to Maegor.
"After Maegor is fully recovered I want you to return to King's Landing-"
"Prince Aemond saved my life, I won't have you kick him out." Maegor scowls at his father feeling his anger slightly flaring up, despite the fatigue and weakness in his body.
Daemon lifts a finger warning his son to be quiet.
"Let me finish, boy. You will accompany him since you have affairs to settle now, Prince of Dorne. And your uncle will vouch for your claim in front of the Queen and Hand of the King, if he was so generous to proclaim your rule himself. "
"What?" Maegor blinks.
The unexpected direction of the conversation leaves him bewildered. He turns his head to give his uncle a questioning look. Daemon retrieves a letter from his tunic's pocket, tossing it in his son's lap.
"Very well, I'll do it. And if someone comes forth to deny his claim?" Aemond doesn't hesitate. His latter question is obvious, both his mother and grandfather won't support this decision even if it's him who proclaimed it.
The Rogue Prince lets out an amused chuckle that fills the room.
"Well, you'll make sure that doesn't happen." Daemon throws them one more look, waving a dismissive hand in the air before he closes the door to the chambers behind him, leaving the two Princes alone.
He can allow it this time. Throw them both a little reward so that he's certain Aemond will keep his word.
Maegor finishes reading the letter and sits in silence. He doesn't know what to think or say. Uncertainty clouds his thoughts. He's grateful that he finally has a title over something given like his half brothers, but at the same time, with everything that happened he's not sure he wants it. Prince of Dorne, it doesn't sound that appealing.
"You've shed blood and sweat, managed to do what the Conqueror couldn't and now "the Seven Kingdoms" has a real meaning. I wanted to give it to you, because there's no one else more deserving than you, Maegor." Sensing his nephew's conflicting emotions, Aemond speaks first, clutching his hands with his own, now more relaxed to show his affection in the privacy of each other's company.
"For that I am grateful, uncle. I just don't know what to do with it." Maegor admits as he lifts his head to look at Aemond, sketching a faint smile.
"You don't have to do anything. Your vassals will rebuild Sunspear in your name and you don't have to make your seat in Old Palace if that's not your wish." Aemond's touch is gentle and comforting as he cups his nephew's face between his hands and leans in to plant a kiss on his forehead.
"I wasn't planning to. I've come to realize I really hate sand." Maegor chuckles, trying to crack a joke despite the drowsiness and weakness in his body. He rests his forehead against his uncle's shoulder as he pulls him into a warm embrace.
Eventually, his uncle stands up, ready to call it in for the night and Maegor's heart skips a beat.
"Rest now, love. You need to get back your strength." Aemond reluctantly lets go of him, ready to return to his guest chambers before Daemon returns and drags him there himself.
He will slip through your fingers, just like water.
Flashes of his night terror and the haunting image of his uncle's spectral form resurface, unsettling his thoughts.
"No! Don't go, please don't go!" Maegor's voice cracks as he lets out an unexpected shout, gripping Aemond's arm until his fingers dig into his skin. His heart is racing again and his breathing is labored.
The older Prince stops dead in his track, startled by his nephew's reaction. He turns back to Maegor at once, his concern outweighing his confusion and he doesn't hesitate to pull his nephew into a tight, comforting hug. He heard the maesters talking about how poisons can give you hallucinations, he just didn't imagine they would persist for so many days and only hopes they won't be permanent.
Aemond waits, his hold on Maegor unyielding until the panic subsides. He releases him just until he removes his boots and jacket before sliding under the covers next to his nephew, drawing him close.
Maegor buries his face in Aemond's embrace, his racing heart slowly finding its rhythm.
"Your father will have my head for this." The older Prince mutters with a smile at the corners of his mouth and buries his nose in the clump of unruly silver locks.
"You've managed to survive him just fine for four days without me." Maegor chuckles, closing his eyes.
Finally he can let his guard down and let the warmth and comfort engulf his painful body.
"Only because I wasn't in bed with his son." Aemond strokes along his shoulders, easing out the obvious tension gathered in his muscles.
"You've been in bed with me before. Just not under his roof." Maegor mumbles, letting out a yawn.
Exhaustion finally catches up with him as sleep pulls at his consciousness.
Aemond smiles, pulling the bed covers higher on both of them. Daemon can have his head if he wishes so. This is worth it.
"SÈłz bantis, ñuha zaldrÄ«zes."
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Translations:
Kepa = Father
Shh ziry iksos sÈłz, ñuha tresy = Shh, it's alright, my son
Ao gƍntan sÈłz = You did good
Qybor = Uncle
SÈłz bantis, ñuha zaldrÄ«zes = Good night, my dragon
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h-y-dontatme · 23 days
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Obey Me Reaper Headcanons Pt 2
I’ve got so much more nonsense about the Reapers in Obey Me! to shout into the void. I’m gearing up to put my Reaper OC out into the world, but a lot of world-building has got to be done first.
If you want more: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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Reapers are noted to have a far longer lifespan than humans, competing with the likes of demons, and in some rare cases, angels. Unlike demons and angels however, Reapers must actively work for their years in conscious existence. Each successful reaping will net the reaper remanents of their victim’s candle. A snuffed candle will leave behind small pellets that can be added to a Reapers own candle, adding years to their already long existence and thus providing an incentive for Reapers to do their duty.
Life candles are not all made equal. Human candles rarely leave behind more than a few months of added time unless the human in question possessed prodigious amounts of magical talent, in which case the spoils will range from years to decades. Demons themselves typically provide more, Little D’s sluffing off anywhere between 1-3 years, and succubi/incubi dropping close to a decade. Truly powerful demons (think demons on the tier below the brothers) will often net a Reaper nearly a century of time.
Angels will often choose a Reaper to honor with their reaping as an angel life candle can provide a Reaper with several centuries of life. This act is framed by the celestial realm as benevolent, but has been used to manipulate young and desperate Reapers, for better or worse (a lot of the times for worse).
Some Reapers will bestow their bounty onto the life candle of someone they love and care for. Abnormally long-lived humans often have gained the favor of their local Reaper, while demons generous (or merciful) to a Reaper will often find themselves outliving their peers.
Reapers relish in telling angels to go fluff off.
Speaking of favors, Reapers aren’t capable of making pacts. Guardianships (like for angels) is also not a thing. Reapers cannot bind themselves to any living being by magical means, contributing to their anti-social reputation. Partnerships, for them, are as indefinite and nebulous as a non-magical human.
That said, Reapers do look after their own. During the events of OM! OG few Reapers walk the three realms, a result of extremely dangerous working conditions, unfavorable deals from the Celestial Realm, and in-fighting. Thirteen being awarded MC’s soul is a result of this effort to keep their numbers up.
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mizziix · 9 months
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Yknow what I can use this blog for whatever I want so I'm gonna ramble about my WoD oc's
So I got two big ones rn. That's a lie I actually have like half a dozen owod mages and equal that number awakening mages with a smattering of others but yknow these two are new.
Both of these characters were made in a free form server that allows for high power characters, so that's how I got away with any of this if you're wondering. DM me if you want an invite, it's public
The first one I got is Andrei Nichols, a 7th gen Lasombra. His backstory is that he was embraced some time around the last turn of the millennium in Scandinavia. He did a bunch of shit in the following 600 years like secure the Sabbat's hold on Scandinavia and become an Abyss Mystic but none of that really matters because in the 1600's he was captured and sealed inside a pillar of jet black granite and obsidian glass. It had a habit of bleeding.
This pillar of bleeding obsidian was passed around various Tremere chantries in Western Europe for a couple of centuries, until a mishap in the 1800's sent the thing sinking to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.
Andrei Nichols, for his part, is aware of precisely none of that. As far as he is aware, the seawater rotted away the stake in his heart granting him consciousness again, he drifted onto the shore of Jewel city in 1982, and that's where his life began. With no memory, no connections, limited ability to speak english (read: none), and no resources for himself, Andrei's introduction to Jewel City unlife was rather uneventful. Andrei spent a good number of years just fucking hiding, feeding from people in back alleys and picking up scraps of language from stalking people. Sticking to back alleys and shadowy underbellies, he learned the language fairly quickly and made limited contact with some of the kindred of the area. Knowing what he was but not where he came from, he was introduced to the culture of the area and allowed to fend for himself. So, he took a job as a waiter to get by, renting an apartment next to an abandoned construction site. In recent time, he's taken a liking to the place, wandering its abandoned halls in his off time and exploring the basement. The fact that things have gotten ever darker there so far hasn't set off any alarm bells.
He's so fun to play because he's just A Guy. He's uninvolved with politics, works odd jobs as a night shift waiter, and is by most accounts normal, but at the same time is a supremely powerful abyss mystic Lasombra on the fucking Road of Kings, but still none of that registers to him, he is only himself. If you pointed out all the eldritch horror that surrounds him, like the fact that nobody else lives in the empty burnt out apartment building he lives in, or the fact that the shadows near him constantly writhe and his eyes foretell doom and decay... he'd be confused. Like, all of it just doesn't register to him because That's Just Normal. He *could* go for a power play and get power, but... he's got rent to pay. So, who cares?
The other fun angle is, being an entirely self indulgent character, he's friends with a number of mages. The main place he works at is essentially a magical femboy hooters run by a Euthanatos Archmaster. This leads to a lot of fun philosophical talks and some very interesting developments in his own Abyss Mystic practice. Namely, I wanted to have some fun approaching the idea of Mage from another splat's perspective. Mages deal with the idea of consensus fairly regularly, the idea that the world isn't actually what it seems to be is part and parcel. But for a *vampire,* the idea that the world doesn't actually exist as people think it does, and that the forces of the universe are just chaotic figments of imagination that can and do change.... is terrifying! It's a slow, creeping existential dread that he doesn't know how to deal with! It rocks.
My other guy in really excited about is Vincent HeikkilÀ, Void Engineer, Pan Dimensional Corps, Archmaster.
Vincent is actually native to the void, not earth. Vincent was born on a colony orbiting the Orion Nebula deep in the heart of space. Growing up in this environment gave him from a young age an instinct for space travel and navigation, when your first spacewalk was at seven learning to pilot shuttlecraft is kinda like getting a drivers license. He started his career as a teenager, starting as an unenlightened tech/data analyst in a work study position. However he enlightened (aka awakened) abs started making unprecedentedly fast progress, earning a position as a junior officer by 19.
Befitting a Void Engineer, he saw a lot of strange things and wolf action throughout the long years spent in the depths of space; dragons, alternate timelines, black holes, spatial anomalies, eldritch horrors that would make a vampire (read: Andrei) cry, actual literal Gods, he saw and dealt with it all. Eventually his career, published works on Dimensional Science, and experience with logistics and command earned him the position of rear admiral of one of the admittedly smaller fleets of VE battleships, working with the ETD on a number of expeditions against various threats to the Union. It was in these years that he saw and did some heinous things. There's really no good way to justify glassing a planet's surface to yourself, even if you knew it had to be done. After a long career, he made one hell of a persuasive argument in favor of shore leave and petitioned to go somewhere that he had never managed to travel to before, something stranger than he had ever seen, full of sights that even an Archmaster like himself had never experienced.
He took a vacation to earth.
Vincent is fun to play because he's this hyper competent space cowboy gunslinger with enough knowledge to justify my unhinged ramblings about the nature of the universe, but he also just doesn't know what a Gamecube is. He's a hardened soldier but... that's behind him. He's possessed by a joie de vivre and this deep enjoyment of the mundane that was strong enough to give him Fae Affinity (note, that's typically impossible for Technocrats but idc). He's not interested in participating in the Ascension war, even if he could beat nearly anyone in a quick draw duel he's too busy discovering what a crepe tastes like when it hasn't been 3d printed. He's piloted fighter craft and warships, but this is the first time he's been on a roller coaster. He's just such this fun, troublemaking rogue, it's great.
His current plans are very simple right now, just make friends. Experience the city not like a reality shifting demigod of technology but just as a dude. He might show off a bit, he might take one or two of his friends up into space for a joyride, but really I'm keeping all the incredibly powerful magic (or, ahem, enlightened science) just for prop comedy and shits and giggles. Also to drive off some of the annoying vampire elders in town, but that's neither here nor there.
Please feel free to ask more questions about either of them, or for stuff about other characters. Thank you for reading this long lmao
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creature-featurez · 2 months
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omg can i know ab betty and simon bc i also have one with like multiple parties at once im curious...
hello!!! sorry this took forever to answer (and for the... absolute novel that is the answer) this is surprisingly a very loaded question LMAOOO also sorry if i misinterpreted the question... i realized halfway through that you may have been asking something completely different...
putting under a [read more] to avoid being a terribly long post on the dash
First, I know you don't have a lot of knowledge on Adventure Time lore (at least I think..) so I'll probably be going on several smaller tangents and explanations of things so that the rest of what I explain makes sense. :3 If I get off topic, that's proooobably why. Second, the first "arc" of Reader's (my oc for anyone new here) story is heavily inspired by this fic, though I am currently rewriting it to be a bit more separate, and all of the later arcs are completely original. I like giving credit where credit is due, however.
OKAY! So now back to the actual question LMAO
In Adventure Time, there is a great war among humans somewhere in the 90's-2000's. It's a nuclear war that wipes out most of humanity and leaves a lot of radioactivity around, essentially creating an apocalypse for any surviving humans. In my au, this war takes place sometime in the late 90's. The seeds for Reader and Simon being in a relationship exist as early as the early 90's, though circumstances regarding the both of them being unable to further their education together prevent it from ever really going anywhere. Reader (who is still female presenting) struggles to keep up in the very male dominated field of anthropology and archaeology in the 90's while Simon easily finds his footing in doctorate programs. (He's cis in this au sorry Simon.. it just makes the most narrative sense.) Reader eventually loses contact with Simon as they drift away from each other and this is around the time that Reader goes missing, finding an ancient shrine and making a deal with a deity to survive the upcoming war. This is about 3 years before the nuclear fallout from the war. Meanwhile, Simon and Betty have met and the canon events of Fionna & Cake / Adventure Time are playing out for them! They find the Enchiridion (a magic book Simon was looking for to prove his studies on magical relics isn't bullshit), fall in love, get engaged, and this is around the time Simon loses contact with Reader. And then Reader's family reaches out to Simon. Reader has been missing and no one can find them. Betty comforts Simon during this time, but there isn't really much anyone can do. Eventually Simon finds the crown and becomes cursed, and Betty time travels 1000 years into the future to help save him like in the show. And we're back with Reader! Who accidentally overslept surviving the war by 800 years. They wake up and realize very quickly that they are (1) no longer human and (2) definitely not in the 20th century anymore... After a while they also learn they are immortal. About 200 years later, Reader is a successful healer, using 20th century medical practices and whatever they can find in centuries old texts. They've gotten quite the reputation as many families have been using their practice for generations, and rumors have spread that they can cure even curses (much to Reader's chagrin). This is when Betty, who is now going insane desperately trying to save Simon, visits their shop. Of course, when Betty learns that Reader can't, in fact, cure curses, she's pissed. They get into a big fight and Betty is banned from Reader's shop. The two don't interact again by the time Betty actually does save Simon from being cursed as the Ice King, and Reader never puts 2-and-2 together. To make a very long explanation a very short one, Betty saves Simon by fusing with a chaos deity named Golb, becoming Golbetty. She then returns to this void between universes, leaving Simon once again mortal but now all alone. 12 years later, Simon and Reader reconnect! They slowburn fall in love, but Simon isn't really over Betty, esp when it comes to wanting to save her. Simon is trying to reach Golbetty through an ancient shrine, but Reader is completely unaware of this. Reader is left in the dark when it comes to a lot about Betty, actually, but respects Simon's privacy. The two of them settle into life together after reconnecting after 1000 years, both having long accepted the other died in the 90's, and things seem okay for the most part...
WE'VE HIT ARC 2 WHO CHEERED
Okay so things aren't all that okay. Turns out becoming a weird pseudohuman fucks with your self-image and connection to humanity, who would have thunk! This isn't anything new for Reader, who already associated their being nonbinary/transmasc with being turned into a creature shortly upon settling in the Land of Ooo (tho: author's note, they were always nonbinary, it's just hard to accept that when you're already struggling to make a life for yourself in a male dominated career in the 90's. Reader is mega-coping.) But reconnecting with Simon kind of made it... worse. Sure, Simon was cursed for a while but he got out of it mostly human, where Reader is very much not human. They find themself comparing how they once were to how they are now and feeling inadequate for Simon. Simon tries his best to help, but there's only really so much he can do. Things only get worse when a witch comes along who claims to know exactly what kind of creature Reader is. Reader is a golb-beast, a rare (often only thought to be mythical) creature created by being cursed, or in some interpretations blessed, by Golb. Reader is the only one of their kind known in existence, and this witch worships Golb. Knowing magic, she is able to manipulate Reader's curse so that they attack Simon, almost killing him, and in the chaos of everything she kidnaps Reader. The captor (I need to name her..) has a mansion that is decorated with statues and artwork of Golb, think Catholic cathedrals, and she initially locks Reader in the basement where she has a dungeon of sorts. She's kind of really fucked up and treats Reader like an exotic pet she tamed rather than a sentient human and even goes as far as to only let them eat raw meat it's crazy. Reader keeps up hope that Simon will come for them but the captor tells them (a lie) that Simon ran away from them when they attacked him. He's scared of Reader being a beast and won't be coming back for them. While Reader doesn't believe this at first... the longer they're trapped the more doubt starts to set in. Meanwhile Simon is actually losing his mind trying to find Reader after healing from his wounds, but to little avail. It takes months before he even gets a real lead. Eventually he is able to rescue Reader but in the chaos a fire starts. A statue of Golb falls and crushes the captor, killing her instantly while Reader watches. It should feel good but... Reader is emotionally crushed. It takes them a long time to get used to being back in the normal world again. There's a lot more I didn't cover here bc it isn't too important to Reader and Simon specifically, but there's a lot Reader has to overcome. This entire situation really sets them back on feeling human and accepting themself as they are. This time, Simon can't even seem to really help them when they're at their worst.
(continued in a reblog bc apparently i flew too close to the sun with this post...)
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heymanatee · 5 months
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> I also have a list for the Symbiote gang if you're interested
well, now that you've mentioned it, i am!!
also, what do you think about Where Evil Grows by The Poppy Family (yes, from the sonic movie) for curt & val??
Ooo - I like it! I actually haven't seen the movie (which is frankly a crime, since I picked up an $8 copy for my DVD collection and it is still sitting on my shelf, unwatched) but it looks like a cute buddy film.
I like how sly the song feels, a little seductive in how the melody sort of undulates, winding back and forth in the lyrics' rhythm; specifically the line "Evil grows in cracks and holes/ and lives in people's minds" is *such* a perfect fit for them! It isn't exactly the right tone for "DYHA: Curt's Past" but I think, if I had known about the song when I wrote it, the fic might have been written differently.
(the second verse alone, building "walls" and trying to control the person, is giving off some serious inspiration vibes for a future fic)
So
 the Symbiote Gang. They’re an interesting bunch that I haven’t really done a lot with (outside of my head) and might need a little explaining. The group consists of 5 symbiotes – Legend, Lye, Cyanide, Arsenic, Ricin – along with a pair of aliens: Hodge Podge and Pazi. 
While Lye was created thanks to “Venom” (2018) and Val was created thanks to “No Way Home” (2021), the Symbiote Gang have always been more Marvel based (for example, Legend was a belated OC made to fight the Hulk in “Age of Ultron”, Hodge Podge was originally a GOTG OC, etc) 
The hiccup with this list is that it’s less “this makes me think of them” and more “there is a very specific animatic playing in my head every time I hear this song, therefore I have made a bunch of AUs, because life is a musical apparently” so most of these are fan-made songs based on other IP (long list w/ links below the cut)
The Gang’s General Theme song (aka: if there was a saturday morning cartoon show, this would be the opening/closing tune)
FNAF 1 SONG: We Want Out (Ft. JTMusic, Dan Bull, BSlick & InuTrash) - DAGames
Avengers:Infinity War AU (if they were a part of the alley/ train station battle scene with Vision and Wanda)
The Sound of Silence/ DISTURBED - Simon & Garfunkel (METAL Cover by Jonathan Young)
FEEL INVINCIBLE - SKILLET (Metal Cover by Caleb Hyles and Jonathan Young)
GOTG AU (Peter has to go to Pazi to ask for a favor for Yondu)
THE FINE PRINT: The Outer Worlds Song - The Stupendium
Spiderman:Far From Home AU (the gang figures out Mysterio before Peter does)
TEENAGERS - My Chemical Romance (cover by Jonathan Young & Caleb Hyles)
You’re gonna go far kid - The Offspring
Little Nightmares 2 Rap: Tune into the Madness - The Stupendium (feat. Dan Bull)
BENDY SONG: INSTRUMENTS OF CYANIDE - DAGames
Alt!No Way Home AU
MIX - Centuries of Heathens - Fall Out Boy/ Twenty One Pilots
FNAF: Sweet Dreams - Aviators
Evil AU (where Pazi is a dark wizard/ dimension-hopping conqueror that uses the gang as his personal army)
SHELTER FROM THE STORM: Frostpunk Rap - The Stupendium
SLIDE INTO THE VOID: Control Song (feat. Cami-Cat) - The Stupendium
NO ONE'S HOME: Beholder 3 Rap (Feat. McGwire) - The Stupendium 
Na Na Na - My Chemical Romance
Eternals AU (where the gang is part traveling galactic performers/part spies keeping watch for emerging planets)
The Greatest Show - The Greatest Showman
SISTER LOCATION SONG: Circus of the Dead - TryHardNinja
+ Acoustic version
POPPY PLAYTIME SONG: Slave To The Factory Line - DAGames
LITTLE NIGHTMARES RAP SONG: Hungry For Another One - JT Music
Zootopia: Try Everything (Rock Cover) - Give Heart Records/ NateWantsToBattle
Mashup: Light em up X Radioactive - FallOutBoy/ Imagine Dragons
Helluva Boss: You Will Be Ok - Caleb Hyles cover
Anti-Stark AU (what if Tony Stark had basically done the same as Carlton Drake)
POPPY PLAYTIME: Welcome Home - APAngryPiggy
Drunken Whaler - Dishonored [Soundtrack]
FNAF SONG: After Show - TryHardNinja
FNAF: YOU CAN'T ESCAPE ME - CK9C/ ChaoticCanineCulture
The Experiment - Steampianist with TriAxis (Feat. Vocaloid Gumi)
FNAF 6: Labyrinth - CG5
FNAF Remix: Look at me now - APAngryPiggy (feat. Muscape)
Undertale/Sans’ Genocide Remix: Stronger than You - Xandu/XanduIsBored
AU where Ricin-Symbio!Peter attacks Harry (specifically 2:08-2:32; possibly a scene out of the sequel to “Your Better Half”? Not sure yet)
Set It Off: Wolf In Sheep's Clothing - Caleb Hyles (ft. Jonathan Young)
AU where the Max & Adrian get symbiotes instead of becoming Electro & the Vulture (also possibly part of the equel to “Your Better Half”, but not sure yet)
Feel Like a Riot - Skillet/ Three Days Grace
...And then, of course, most recently, the AU that would fit the gang into my Symbio!Connors AU, and would essentially kick off a 3rd season for the “DYHA
” series over on AO3:
Lye’s escape from OsCorp
Amanda The Adventurer FAN SONG: Don't Listen - Jakeneutron (feat. @toastymarshmellow_ & @Meelz )
Lye and Ricin, meeting up post-escape from OsCorp, musing over the human world
They’re Only Human (cover from Death Note: The Musical) - AnnaPantsu (ft. Caleb Hyles)
Arsenic fighting Daredevil (ends w/ him joining up w/ Lye and Ricin)
MINECRAFT WARDEN RAP: Quiet Please! - Dan Bull
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eyecandyeoz · 6 months
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Chapter 11 - Rocinante Part 1
Pairing:  Tech x Belter!OC x Crosshair
Warnings apply to current and or future chapters as well: angst, fluff, language, adult situations, death mention, slow burn romance, astrophobia & nyctophobia, anxiety/panic attacks, PTSD, canon-typical violence, medical complications, space terminology.
Summary: Treatments resume and Emalia’s sleeplessness returns as they get closer to the blockade.
Paradigm Shift Masterlist - 3k words
Main Masterlist - Read on Wattpad & Ao3
Back in the starfield again. With the assistance of light speed, they could travel from Ceres to the Gate in as little as a week, but a move like that isn’t recommended if they are unsure if Emalia can even survive g-forces so strong as it’s never been tested even in her own vessel. They have been traveling for close to a month and a half, expecting to make it to the blockade any day now. A high burn would definitely get them there sooner, but it’s best to conserve as much energy as possible since it’s unknown when they’ll have the opportunity to safely refuel before making it to Medina Station. Tech calculates their fuel reserves and does an estimate of reaching the blockade in several weeks. Systems here aren’t like they are where Omega and the boys are from. There’s a lot more blank, open space than sights to be seen since it was only until the most recent century that interstellar travel was accomplished, let alone granting access all over the galaxy. 
Emalia resumes treatments during this period of coasting. Although it takes an expected toll on her frail body, the artificial gravity is far more forgiving when generated in a void than on a celestial dwarf. It feels different than her first ride in this vessel. Whatever calibrations and modifications Xav has done to the ship, he seems to have accommodated Emalia’s condition as well. 
They heard through various broadcasted transmissions that colony ships waiting to cross the blockade have been left susceptible to pirate attacks. The closer they get to their destination, the more aware she becomes of the danger that is looming. The soreness of her bruised limbs coupled with her anxiety-riddled awareness of the unknown, Emalia has awful trouble sleeping.
Just when she thought she was starting to grow comfortable with the darkness and the silence again, the pleasant domesticities she had back at the flat do not equally translate into her current setting. For the initial portion of their travel, Emalia would always find herself tossing and turning in her rack before she resorts to giving up on rest, choosing to turn on her night lamp of Saturn to subtly light her way to the deck of the ship. Depending on whose turn it is to monitor the flight path of the Vestis, she is usually greeted by Tech, Hunter or Echo, the others steadily sleeping soundly still.
It has been countless rotations since she’s gotten some meaningful shuteye. In this instance of restlessness, Echo is manning the pilot’s seat, and she decides to keep him company while hoping she has a serendipitous nap. They spend a long while reminiscing about happier days before Emalia actually manages to pass out, dark circles under her eyes as she slumps back in the copilot’s chair to the right of Echo. He smiles, chuckles a bit and stands to throw a blanket over Emalia like he’s done to many of his kin before. He returns to his seat and ensures the course is steady, getting lost in thought as well as the canopy of stars.
Emalia begins to mumble beside him, inaudible at first but he deduces that she’s struggling to enunciate the names of her late crew, Wyllow and Breña among the only ones he could understand. “Em?” Echo tries to gently rouse her by reaching over and giving a tap on her shoulder. It doesn’t work and her throes of panic become more violent; swinging arms confined by the weight of the blanket, her face streaming with tears, a voice growing more vulnerable and helpless.
“It’s only a dream. It’s only a dream. It’s only a dream
” Echo starts to chant into her subconscious, taming Emalia’s thrashing as best as he can. He doesn’t want to startle her awake, depending on this fortified connection to pacify her but it does not go as planned. 
His hardened components press into her bruised skin and the sharp, inorganic pressure pierces her already tender nerves when Echo underestimates his strength. Emalia’s eyes fly open, and she sees Echo trying to placate her attack, but instincts act over reason, and she propels herself from his grasp, using the blanket wrapped around her as an evasion device to fumble to the floor. 
She’s stunned, wide awake now. Echo stands above her with the blanket in his arms while she shakes herself free of the dazed confusion of the moment. Throwing the blanket over one shoulder, Echo offers her his hand. She takes it and he brings her to her feet, settling Emalia into the chair once again. “I did it again
 didn’t I?”
“Emalia, these episodes are getting more frequent.” Echo passes her the blanket, gently putting it over her lap before returning to his chair. “When are you going to admit something is wrong?”
“Echo, I’m fine.” Emalia adjusts the blanket so as to not make eye contact with him, avoidant of his worried gaze. “Nothing is wrong. I just need to get used to the meds again.”
“Em, I need you to listen to me.” Echo’s tone changes from soft to serious. “You don’t have to pretend you’re okay just for our sake.”
“I can’t afford to just
 drop everything for something as frivolous as feelings, Echo.” Emalia shudders at the word almost as if she’s ashamed to harbor such powerful emotions.
“Look, I know a lot of people are going to tell you that they know how you feel, whether it’s true or not when they say it, please know that it is genuine when I tell you that.” Echo begins this heart-to-heart with Emalia with his own pain in mind. “I’ve been where you are, thinking that I don’t even want to attempt living without my first squad. Yet here we are, still going strong.”
Emalia isn’t blind to the very real heartache that Echo carries with him. The nature of clones and Belters alike is sacrifice and she hates that they both have had to resort to fleeing their worlds in search of a modicum of something better. Though, just as Echo has found something better in his new family, Emalia definitely has too. 
“Not strong enough.” Emalia mutters, disappointed with herself.
“Em, if you exhaust yourself fighting for a better tomorrow, your misery will grow bad enough that your future becomes rarely factored into your decisions.” Echo leans over, resting his hand on her bruised forearm. “Their memory isn’t going anywhere, and you’re no good to anybody dead.”
“The thing is, I want to keep going, for their sake.” Emalia confesses, relieved with being able to put words to her emotions now. “It’s just so hard sometimes.”
“I know but think about it. We are people who’ve outlived our past. Now, we have full control over our future.” Echo smiles, sitting back in his chair with pride.
“How do you do it?” Emalia asks him.
“How did I do what?”
“Move on from your squad.”
“Oh
” Echo takes a pause, looking down at the floor panels before crossing his arms. “Well, I never have. I don’t think I ever will.”
“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to pry.” Emalia vehemently apologizes. “You just seem so
 at peace with it.”
“I feel anything but peace when it comes to what happened to them, and all the other clones that made the ultimate sacrifice.” Echo looks up from the floor, a slight glisten in his eyes. “I’ve just had more time to turn my anger and sadness into honor and remembrance.”
“I know, I’ll reach that eventually.” Emalia says.
“You will, but listen Em, don’t put a clock on your process. I did that and I nearly lost myself.” Echo catches a tear on the crest of his cheekbone before it could fall, stoic even through his anguish. “You’ll get through this without the need to rush through the journey. Avoidance is one way to run yourself ragged. I mean, look at you.”
Echo announces and Emalia rubs her burning eyes, dry from the lack of sleep. Her head has been in a perpetual state of vertigo since resuming her treatments and she’s been “forgetting” about mealtimes when rations would be distributed. 
“Yes, we’re all reasonably concerned.” Tech appears through the metal shutters that separate the cockpit from the main interior hull of the ship. “I’ve been conducting daily examinations on you when administering your medication to ensure your health doesn’t deteriorate further.”
“You’ve been doing check-ups on me without my consent?” Emalia talks back, pretending to be upset but she’s just surprised he cares enough to notice.
“I wouldn’t make such a conclusion.” Tech sits in the chair adjacent to Emalia. “I just decided not to inform you of the matter.”
“Can you blame him, Em?” Echo chimes in. “I know you would probably deny Tech the opportunity if he asked.”
“Which is why I did not.” Tech adds with his index finger raised to the ceiling.
Emalia glares at both of them while trying to fight through the smile forming on her lips. “Fair enough.” She acquiesces.
“What are you doing awake anyway? Shift change isn’t for another few hours.” Echo asks Tech.
“I was hoping I could convince Emalia to eat something of substance before we started another round of injections.” Tech raises a brow, and it peeks out from under the rim of his goggles. “You can’t expect to build muscle mass if you’re malnourished.”
“He’s got a point, you know.” Echo agrees and Emalia rolls her eyes at them with a grateful smile. “Besides, don’t you want first dibs on the good stuff before Wrecker and Omega fight over what they’re going to eat for breakfast?”
“What good stuff?” Emalia groans at the thought of eating something dehydrated and simply revived with boiling water. “I really wish I could get us some real food.”
“You mean, what we had on Ceres wasn’t real food?” Echo disputes, thinking back and questioning the integrity of everything he’s ever eaten in this universe.
“Only the produce and grain foods were real, and even those had to be imported. Much of the dairy and poultry there was either plant based or made from synthetic proteins.” Emalia shakes her head when reminded that the efforts of Belters still get exploited so that the inner planets can keep their own farms running while plaguing the import market with embargos on produce that wouldn’t be possible without the labors of her people. “I think I had mentioned the black-market curd cartel before, right?”
“Wait, that was real?”  Echo tries not to raise his voice despite being astonished so he suppresses it into a laugh. “I thought you were joking!”
“I wish I was.” Emalia sighs. “I still remember the last time I made lasagna with real ricotta cheese...”
“Ricotta cheese?” Wrecker and Omega are now awake, wandering into the cockpit hand in hand while holding their emotional support plushies. “What’s that?”
“It’s a whey cheese that’s softer and doesn’t really melt like other cheeses. That’s why it is perfect to be baked into a casserole or boiled in a ravioli.” Emalia explains.
“Well, whatever it is, it sounds tasty.” Wrecker announces as his stomach rumbles loudly. “Speaking of, what’s for breakfast?”
Emalia and Tech exchange glances, humorously reading each other’s expressions when prior predictions have come true. 
“There’s still plenty of oatmeal packets, pastries and fruit chips.” Echo adds. “I’ll make us all something for lunch later.”
“I want a blueberry oatmeal!” Omega excitedly announces.
Wrecker reaches into the crate and fishes out a blueberry instant oatmeal packet, then hands it to Omega, taking a different packet out of the crate for himself while grinning. “I like the strawberry banana kind, myself.”
“Let me boil some water for you guys.” Emalia takes the blanket off her lap and drapes it over the chair she was sitting in and advances to the makeshift kitchenette they made by putting her electric kettle and hot plate on one of the unoccupied shelf spaces. “I’m sure Crosshair is going to want some coffee when he and Hunter get up.”
Emalia boils enough water for everyone, serving some up for Wrecker and Omega first as they await with their oatmeal already deposited into their biodegradable and disposable bowls. Hunter makes an appearance, groggy and dazed with his hair curled up in all directions as he makes his way to the caffeination station to fill his own mug up. Emalia notices that Crosshair has yet to rise. Unlike him, he’s usually one of the first to be awake. She retrieves a mug he’s particularly fond of, fills it to the brim and heads to the back of the ship to see if he’s up yet.
The area is dim and slightly stuffy as Emalia navigates her way through the casual clutter on the floor, lived-in and comfortable as they once had it before. Crosshair comes into view, only, he’s taken a rather dismal position from where he sits up in his cot. His head is lowered, and he’s hidden by the shadows cast by the bunk right above him.
“Knock, knock.” Emalia taps on the wall with her free hand and Crosshair scoots closer to the edge of the cot. “Are you okay? Everyone’s at breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry.” He dismisses.
“Well, even Tech convinced me to eat something.” Emalia sits beside him and offers the warm mug. “At least drink this.”
Crosshair takes it, sips from it a couple times and then sets it down on the nearby shelf. He wrings his wrists, anxious and stricken with tension. “I’m sorry
 I just keep thinking that I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“Should is a useless word, Crosshair.” Emalia’s own head cranes downward in recollection of the moment. “I don’t regret what we did. Truly.”
“Then why does it seem like you’re ashamed of it?” Crosshair breaks his gaze and looks into the swirling mug, scoffing. “You can’t exactly expect him to speak about something such as love.”
“That’s just it, Crosshair.” Emalia’s patience is tested when she realizes that Crosshair’s aloofness is really a front to deter people from believing that he truly cares what others think. “I don’t expect anything from anyone. Not even you. You seem to forget that I didn’t ask for any of this either.”
“You’re right
” He shrugs then nervously chuckles when he becomes aware that he’s being needlessly frantic again. “I should have a better attitude. I didn’t expect you to be the one to bring me coffee today.”
Emalia sighs, giving him a look. “Please, stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Assuming first, clarifying later.” Emalia shakes her head. “You’re hurting yourself, you know
Emalia sarcastically laughs through this kindred association with Crosshair, although she’s burdened by the genuine meaning behind what he said. She hasn’t properly communicated to Tech what she feels when he extends his kind favors to her to her while at the same time not wanting to be with Crosshair out of desperation on either end. What if there really was nothing behind Tech’s instances of passive intimacy? Were they thoughtful acts and nothing more? Or did they, in fact, hold a deeper meaning of connection?
As long as Emalia doesn’t venture to find out, she can pleasantly live in this ignorant purgatory, accepting these one-off favors of the heart without the added pressure of putting a name to their disposition. It may be a roundabout way to keep everyone’s hearts from breaking, including her own, but it’s the only logic she can see as of yet.
“I’m sorry.” Emalia suddenly apologizes and Crosshair’s smirk fades completely.
“What could you possibly be sorry for now?” He asks, rolling his eyes.
“I just don’t want you to think I’m stringing you along.”
“Em, I don’t know how I feel at this point. I spend most of my time trying not to. At least, not until I met you.”
“What about them?” Emalia gestures to the full room just a few yards away. “Your family?”
“None of us have talked, like really talked like we used to in a long time. I only have myself to blame for that one.” Crosshair turns away slightly, avoidant of Emalia’s judgment. “I push them away most of the time.”
“Crosshair, they don’t blame you for anything. They probably just don’t know what to say.” Emalia sets her hand on his knee in hopes to get his attention. It works and he looks at her once more, his face caught in a permanent wince. “After seeing everything you’ve gone through, the pace of the journey probably makes them feel ashamed that you couldn’t do more for each other.”
“Those luxuries are not meant for me, Emalia.” Crosshair disagrees. “They look at me like I am an outcast, meanwhile they look at you like you’re some type of porcelain doll that’s going to fall apart at any turn.”
“That’s not true.”
“It’s fine. I don’t judge them for it.” Crosshair speaks these words as if they're final, but the notion most definitely bothers him.
“There’s no room for outcasts on such a small ship, Crosshair.” Emalia tried to reassure him.
“I don’t know how to be anything different.”
“They miss you; you know. Did you ever apologize to each other?”
“Yeah
 Sort of.”
“Seems to me like you guys need to find a way to say it differently.”
“Differently how?”
“Well, actions speak louder than words. Maybe we could start by being more present with them instead of hiding away all the time.”
“Urgh
” Crosshair grumbles. “Easier said than done.”
“Oh, come on.” Emalia says cheerfully. “They’re a lovely bunch.”
Emalia and Crosshair are suddenly jostled by the turbulence of the Vestis when its speed drops as the course adjusts. Emalia falls forward and her face collides with his chest. Crosshair instinctively catches Emalia, holding her close to his heart, almost sneaking an attempt at resting his cheek on her hair before she consciously pulls herself away when the ride smooths out again.
“What was that?” Crosshair asks, playing off his flustered nerves with a concerning question. “Tech prides himself on his piloting skills. It’s annoying actually
”
Emalia and Crosshair stand up to see what the commotion was about. “Everything alright out here?” Emalia asks Tech with Crosshair closely behind her.
“The blockade is in sight.” Tech announces in astonishment at the sheer complexity of the machine. It’s surrounded by many other vessels awaiting passage, dwarfed by the massive size of the Ring’s structure. “I have adjusted our speed in accordance with local flight regulations.”
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