a fallen nation

2

Lucifer, Franz von Stuck, 1890. Oil on canvas. 63 3/8 x 60 1/16 in.          

The National Gallery for Foreign Art, Sofia, Bulgaria.   

“O you, the wisest and fairest of the Angels,
God betrayed by destiny and deprived of praise,

O Satan, take pity on my long misery!

O Prince of Exile, you who have been wronged
And who vanquished always rise up again more strong,

O Satan, take pity on my long misery!”

-The Litany of Satan, Charles Baudelaire

flickr
Joker and Harley watch the news (#4)
  • Reporter: "We're getting reports that a man has fallen from Gotham National Bank. It's not known yet whether he jumped or was pushed. We'll have more on this story tonight."
  • Harley: "That's a big drop! What do ya think was going through his head"
  • Joker: "Fear, regret, his ankles."
  • Harley: *shoots grape soda out of her nose*

anonymous asked:

Hey, Justin, you play Guild Wars 2, right? How would you sort the races? I think Norn would probably be mostly Gryffindors and Asura would be mostly Ravenclaws, but I'm not sure about the other races.

(Disclaimer: I am speaking here how each race’s CULTURAL and RACIAL views align with the houses. I am not claiming every race is entirely composed of just one house. All races are composed of all houses.)

Norn are definitely hardcore Gryffindor. A society valuing power and seeking glory to become a legend, I really don’t know how else to explain it. They are bold and courageous to the core. Perfect examples of the textbook (stereotypical?) Gryffindor. 

Asura are actually predominately Slytherin. I hate that they have become the “cute” race in GW2. While their defining factor is still their incredible intelligence and a society balanced around the three colleges, this does not make them Ravenclaw. Asura as a culture view themselves as superior to the other races, caring very little about their well-being. They are primarily interested in their own individual talents and projects, shamelessly sabotaging others to improve their chances of success. Furthermore, as quoted in The Movement of the World article: “The Asura believe they are destined to rule the larger, less intelligent races of the world. They see humans, especially, as quite good for heavy lifting, and in general terms, view other races as merely pawns to be manipulated in Asuran schemes.”

Sylvari are Ravenclaw. As the newest race to the world, Slyvari are primarily interested in discovering both the world and their own identities with immense curiosity. Many of the dreamers also share a strong connection with each other and value acceptance of others, largely influenced by Ventari’s teaching: “All things have a right to grow. The blossom is brother to the weed.”
Although having darker aims, even the Nightmare Court share many of these Ravenclaw traits of curiosity and especially seeking independence from the influence of the Pale Tree.

Humans are a race that I would align mostly with Hufflepuff, despite that one follower rudely disagreeing, due to their faith in their six gods and incredible perseverance. The game does a poor job at explaining it in detail, but the Humans are essentially on their last legs. Their home in Kryta is the last remaining human kingdom on Tyria with both Ascalon and Orr being abolished. Elona and Cantha may still exist; however, all communication is seemingly cut off. Despite this, and despite being attacked from every side of their land (and literally their city being attacked in the most recent update), the humans remain strong. The “unafraid of toil” of Hufflepuff is incredibly present for the humans. In addition, the Gods have not been heard from in over 250 years. The humans, though essentially being abandoned, still largely remain faithful to The Six for guidance. Seriously. It says it all in the human story intro:

“The human race once ruled Tyria. Now, we struggle to hold our ground.
 We’ve been defeated, driven back, and broken – but we will not surrender.
So many nations have fallen. Only Kryta still stands.
Our faith is strong, despite the silence of the Six Gods.”

Charr are a rough mix of Gryffindor and Slytherin. Honestly, I would put them in Durmstrang if I could. The in-game description describes them as such:

“The charr race was forged in the merciless crucible of war. It is all they know. War defines them, and their quest for dominion drives them ever onward. The weakling and the fool have no place among the charr. Victory is all that matters, and it must be achieved by any means and at any cost.”

From descriptions alone, the Charr can be very Slytherin in their cutthroat pursuit for power and control; however, it cannot be denied that the charr are also innately defined by their boldness and courage valued in Gryffindor.

-Justin (Slytherin)

My Quiet Thoughts

Its memorial day again, just like any other day but different. I wake up every memorial day and feel this way.

In my quiet place, I go to talk to friends long gone.

I walk with them every day of my life. I hear their voices beside and behind me, all saying the same thing. Be a good dad, be a good husband, go forward and try a little harder. I try to look back and see their faces, but no one is actually there.  

Memorial day is special, because I get to see them. When I turn around, I can see all of them standing there. We smile, laugh, make crude silly jokes. I cry because I miss them, but my tears only last so long. I’m hiding in my quiet place so no one can see me. My boys think I’m a hero, but someday when they’re old enough to understand, I’ll tell them about my heroes.

Today is like every other day, but different. I get to see my brothers again, just for one day.  

I miss you all, bros.

Warm Embrace

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1400

Warnings: Mentions of blood at some point. Kinda sucks?

Originally posted by heartsnmagic


“He’ll come back”

You tug her closer, carding your fingers through her hair in a gesture that is supposed to calm her.

“What if he doesn’t?”

Her vast green eyes hold questions and insecurities in them, misted over with a sheet of sadness that has your jaw in a lock so strong you fear it breaking.

“He’d have to be an utter fool not to return to you, dear.”

She clutches you closer and you wince, feeling her skin brush against fresh cuts and bruises from your latest mission. She doesn’t seem to notice and you don’t bother voicing your discomfort, merely sit silent as she finds refuge in your arms.

The news of Bruce’s disappearance hadn’t surprised you as much as most anticipated they would. You knew him to be the type to walk away, for the sake of keeping calm, yet were disappointed all the same, seeking out Natasha as soon as you debriefed and changed out of your mission gear.

A mess.

That’s what you’d describe her as, watching her attempt to keep her tears at bay and her sobs quiet, while she sat silently on your bed. She had been waiting for you to come back, to comfort her in a way that only you knew how.

“He’ll return.”

You repeat in a soft whisper, thrumming a familiar beat against her thigh, while drawing calming circles on her back with your other hand. She draws a shaky breath and you press a gentle, lingering kiss on her temple.

Had you still been in the Red room, you muse, the kiss would have left a distinct red mark.

Red.

The color of your love for her, burning with an intensity that managed to startle you on more occasions than you cared to admit to. The color of the blood that you spilled to keep her safe, the color of your ledger, gushing red, overflowing with the blood of your past and future victims.

For a moment you missed that red, and - ruefully so- the Red room that had brought you so close together.

The very same Red room that forced you to wear red lipstick. A lipstick that would leave a mark for you to admire whenever you kissed her temple. A mark that was missing now.

You sigh, gingerly shifting so her arms would loosen their hold on you a little.

Just a tiny little.

So you could breathe freely again, because right now your lungs were straining with the force of the screams that you kept in.

Just a tiny little bit.

So you could make some room for thoughts other than those that involved hunting Bruce and making him pay for every single tear spilled.

Just a tiny little bit more.

So you could cool your blood that was boiling with the intensity of your loathing for the man that left behind, what you treasured above all else, like it was worth nothing to him. The man that stomped on the confidence that you helped her built over the years of training together. The one that made her doubt her worth.

Just some more.

So you could calm down. Think straight. Concentrate on her.

Some more.

You’ve released her and sat watching the digital numbers on the clock with a mixture of trepidation and fatigue that seemed both absurd and interesting to you at that moment.

Ah, trepidation.

An old bedfellow of yours ever since Natasha admitted her affections for Bruce to you.

One you couldn’t tear yourself from, a cloying, acrid thing that had wormed its way into your heart long before she even knew of them herself.

“Are you alright?”

You nod numbly and stand, clutching at your hurting arm that was now coated in your own blood, which kept gushing from a reopened wound like a broken dam.

She takes notice of it, jumps to her own feet and rushes to you with a worry stricken look.

You disregard her concern with a small reassuring twitch of your lips and leave, telling her to get comfortable and wait for you to come back.

She listens and agrees with hesitance that you once found some strange sense of comfort in, and you close the door behind you softly.


The walls of the hospital ward are blindingly white, the kind of white that reminds you of the endless widths of snow in Russia.

The cold and unforgiving, yet still entirely beautiful kind that you held both wonder and a reasonable amount of fear for, for as long as you can remember.

The kind that clawed at the small barracks, that you and your fellow trainees slept in, as it fell in company of freezing storms. The kind that had Nat nestled up in your arms, blanket tugged up to the chin, to keep warm.

The kind that you would never experience again.

The sudden nostalgia for that dreadful place manages to send a shiver down your spine and you sigh, facing the ceiling as you lay down onto your bruised back.

Waiting.

Still waiting.

The glaring light had you squinting your eyes and for a moment, your arm moved on its own accord, rising as if to salute a long since fallen nation.

“Long live mother Russia.”

You mouth just barely loud enough for yourself to hear, relishing in the bittersweet taste that the words left behind for a second that could fill eternity if you desired it to.

Eternity filled with nothing but the taste of both failure and great gain.

You observe your fingers, watch the patches of skin that covered them, burned just at the tips where you held matches against in a futile attempt to feel something- anything at all. It was years before Natasha was brought in, years of numbing cold and solitude that had scarred you beyond any compare.

Looking at things now though, you regret wishing for anything other than that overwhelming emptiness that resided within your chest for perhaps one too many years.

He won’t come back, you idly muse as you twist your fingers around in the glaring light to cast random shadows over your weary eyes.

Not if he knows what’s good for him, you find yourself apathetically adding, while balling your hand into a fist so tight it leaves your knuckles white.

Or maybe he should?


You trace the still lines of Nat beneath your blanket once you return to your room and sigh softly, both anger and the confusing thoughts dispersing as fast as they had appeared.

You don’t bother changing and simply slip under the sheets with Nat, momentary surprised when she pulls you into her arms.

She guides your head to her chest and leaves it lying there, allowing you to listen to her calm heartbeat.

The position leaves you startled for a while longer than you’d like to admit, yet before you can voice your question she beats you to it with a soft smile.

“Let me do the comforting for once”

You snort a quiet laugh and wrap your arm around her waist, tugging her warm body closer to your cool frame while she tenderly massages your scalp.

It’s hard to ignore how perfect your bodies mend together, even harder so with her scent that decided to take over your senses and wrap itself like a soft blanket around you.

“You’re stupid”

You mumble into her chest, clutching at her waist while she chuckles. Its sleepy and quiet, yet still entirely alluring and you wonder whether you’re ever going to be released from the spell that she had cast upon you the moment she walked into the training room with the Madame by her side.

“You adore me”

It’s her pressing a kiss to your temple now, soft and lingering and so perfectly warm that it has your heart swelling with content.

And for a moment you wonder whether she likes your kisses so much, because they offer her the same sense of tranquility.

“Do I?”

She presses another kiss to your face, your forehead this time and you snuggle further into her, drawing a small giggle from her.

“You do”

And as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t find it within yourself to disagree. So, you simply nuzzled your face deeper into her chest and closed your eyes, allowing the sound of her heartbeat and the steady downpour outside to lull you to sleep.

Auset
(pronounced Aw-set, which the Greek called her Isis)

Auset is the devoted wife of Ausar and the first mother to give immaculately birth to a child, Heru, who would avenge his father later in life. She represents the Spirit of Nurturance as she is the primal source for healing and learning that is needed for personal growth. She governs pregnancies, the spirit of family and children. Her physical manifestations in nature are the seven seas, docile animals, such as sheep and cows, which are her main representations symbolizing how she is the Queen Mother that mothers the nation.

It was through Auset that the people learned about agriculture and natural medicine (herbology) as she was the first healer way before AimHetep (Imhotep). It was her spiritual presence and role that gave women in the Kametic society an equal status to that of men. Something that would take Western women hundreds of years achieve after the fall of many African and indigenous nations had fallen.

Auset is petitioned for assistance in removing negative energies such as pain, sorrow, anger and despair that prevent spiritual growth. Since, the resurrection of the Kametic tradition, Auset has been syncretized with the orisha Yemaya the owner of the seven seas. Auset is envisioned as being a beautiful woman of child bearing age draped in her aquamarine blue and white garments. She is fond of pearls, silver and seashells and her sacred number is seven.

2

Memorial Day is NOT National BBQ Day

Pay your respects to those who died protecting your Freedom and honoring their oath to “defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic”.

“Those who take freedom for granted would be dependent on those brave souls who are willing to pay the price for it. And the Price of Freedom will be paid at times unexpected, by heroes who didn’t know they were”, Unknown

5

Site of the Confederate Powderworks/Augusta Powderworks now the site of the closed down Sibley textile mill and future site of the CapeAugusta Digital Properties’s “Digital Fortress”
Augusta, Georgia

Towering 150 feet tall the chimney is the only original standing remnant of the Confederate Powderworks that once stretched along the Augusta Canal for two miles. Construction began in September of 1861 under the guidance of Colonel George Rains, West Point graduate and chemistry teacher, by March 1862 work had been completed on the powderworks the second largest such facility at the time and was producing 3.5 tons of powder a day and over the course of the war produced 2,750,000 pounds of powder. The facility produced the majority of the powder used by the Confederate Armies and it is claimed that because of this the Confederacy never lost a battle for want of powder.

By 1872 the facility was dismantled all that was left were piles of bricks and the chimney, as requested by Colonel Rains to stand as a reminder the chimney bears an inscription on the marble tablet reading,

“ This Obelisk Chimney — sole remnant of the extensive Powder Works here erected under the auspices of the Confederate Government — is by the Confederate Survivors’ Association of Augusta, with the consent of the City Council, conserved in Honor of a fallen Nation, and inscribed to the memory of those who died in the Southern Armies during the War Between the States”.

Between 1880 and 1882 the Sibley Textile Mill was built in its place using around 13,000 bricks from the original Powderworks the mill operated for 124 years and operations finishing denim ended in 2006 when the mill was shut down and the looms sold.

Starting in 2015 planning was put in place to refurbish the Mill for use by CapeAugusta Digital Properties a cyber security firm and will see the site initial deployment of a 7MW facility which will be expanded to 20MW in the future. The site runs on hydroelectric power from the mill’s turbines and plans are in place to use the water to cool the facility.

From war fought with lead and blackpowder to the war for data security fought with fiber optics and silicon the site is steeped in regional and even national history.

@kasaron

I love making verses (if you hadn’t noticed) and figuring out the parallels to her canon. I think the one that’s closest (because I know both lores so well!) is her Dragon Age verse though?

Like, I have her as a Nevarran who was married to a Tevinter. The parallel to an Umbarim who married a Gondorim is so good. Nevarra was once under the control of Tevinter, which is/was an empire; and Nevarra’s culture is still extremely influenced by Tevinter, related to it despite the strong influence of the native Planasene people of the region.

Meanwhile, Umbar was once under the control of Gondor, which is/was an empire; and Umbar’s culture still shows the strong influence of the Númenoreans who settled both Gondor and Umbar, and is related to it despite the strong influence of the native Haradrim peoples of the region.

(I mean, I could even make something of an argument that the ancient Tevinter Imperium, at its height, approximated the late Númenorean Empire; and that the much-reduced and fading Tevinter of the Dragon Age is therefore an analogue to the much-reduced and fading Gondor of the Third Age.)

Nevarra, meanwhile, was once just another of the city-states of the Free Marches but has expanded into a kingdom of its own, increasing in power and strength, with ancient royal dynastic lines. And it’s canon that in Nevarra, mages have far more power and better educations than anywhere outside of Tevinter, given the influence of the (Tevinter-created) Mortalitasi. Plus, Nevarra and Tevinter are always sort of agitating along their shared border, just like Gondor and Umbar are…

Anyway, it’s perfect. Gondor is Tevinter and Nevarra is Umbar and I’m content.

do you have a pair of

Fluff Friday: January 27, 2017— Gas Station

The smol!Kakashi master post is here.

This is definitely not as fluffy as it should be if it’s for Fluff Friday, but *shrugs*. My angsty ninja babies usurped this month’s prompt. Which, admittedly, I’d already taken sideways because they don’t own cars. (Think “gas station” as a liminal space, a transient space, a space that does not exist when you do not occupy it, space from which you are either coming or going. Think also: a place to purchase a bad magazine and a bag of chips for the long highway that stretches out before you. Think: pause. Think: refuel. Think: this will not last forever.)

Hey~ @vesperlionheart and @thefreckledone. Thanks for running Fluff Fridays! (And thanks so much to @beyondthemoor for taking over for a while.) The work you do makes fandom a better place.

Summary: What do you do with peace when you’ve never actually had it? Sakura and Kakashi travel criss-crossing roads, searching for an answer to the ache in their bones, the emptiness in their lungs. (What do you do with peace? Dare to reach out with two hands and take it for your own, for as long as it lasts.)


Sakura salutes the nin watching her from the trees and trudges the last mile to the border-guard station. All she wants is a shower and a drink with an obscene alcohol percentage to wipe the memory of the past days from her mind.

Unfortunately, she can’t afford to forget what she has seen as she’s going to need to report on it.

The Great Elemental Nations are at peace, however uneasily, but that does not mean that there are enemies Konoha can afford to let slip back into the shadows to lick their wounds. Always, the Village must be watchful of the shadows.

They have learned that, if nothing else, from their many sins come home to roost.

Keep reading

Israel bows its head in memory, gratitude to nation's fallen - 1 May 2017

Israelis around the country and Jews everywhere will be taking time today to pay respects to the 23,544 men and women who died from war and terror attacks since the early days of the Jewish settlement in the country.
Memorial Day events begin with the official State Ceremony at Mt. Herzl Cemetery in Jerusalem, during which a two-minute-long siren pierces the air and the country comes to a standstill in respectful silence.
Throughout the day, additional ceremonies in memory of the fallen are taking place across the country.
Later this evening, sorrow will be replaced by celebrations as the country transitions from Remembrance Day to Independence Day and city streets fill up with revelers, celebrating the state’s 69th birthday.

anonymous asked:

First, 2p!Prussia is an angel. I love him. Second, What would happen if the 2ps found their 1ps bruised and beaten and just trembling and sobbing, curled up in a little ball?

((thank you. he really is an innocent little thing. anyways, i hope you enjoy the answer. Q w Q ))


if the 2Ps found their 1Ps defeated and sobbing–

2p!america: he took a slow step forward, steely eyed, his lips taut in a frown. “what are you doing?” his voice was low and unflinching, and it sounded more like an accusation than a question. when he failed to respond, allen squatted down next to him and hissed, “you’re alfred fucking jones, the one who runs around yelling your name like some idiot hero-wannabe,” he paused. “…aren’t you that person?” after another moment of silence, his expression turned frantic as he gripped his counterpart’s shoulders and shouted, “you’re supposed to be a hero, remember?! what happened to the other half of me that was supposed to spread joy, not pain?!” he choked back a sob. “i don’t want you… to turn into me…” he hastily wiped away a tear and turned away, speaking softly, “i’m… i’m not good, alfred… please, you have to get up and fix everything… because, i… i can’t do it…”

2p!china: “yao?” his voice was laced with disbelief. “is… is that you, yao?” shaking, he realized it was. breaking into a run, he got over to him and got down on all fours. “what happened to you? this can’t be… no… i thought you were wise and capable? i thought you could handle things like this?!” breathing heavily, he noticed his parallel’s tears. gently, he wiped them away; although he wasn’t far from them himself. “i looked up to you… you were so great, how could anyone have beaten you?” after making sure he was okay, zao stood up. he unsheathed a sword, and even if he knew his skills were far below yao’s, he said, “don’t worry… i’ll do my best, the way you tried to teach me…” he was going to take revenge on whoever harmed his counterpart if it was the last thing he did.

2p!england: “the time has finally come, hasn’t it?” oliver’s eyes were hooded, but a soft smile remained on his pale lips. gracefully, he moved in slow, rhythmic circles around his collapsed counterpart. “you stole their freedom. you took away their individuality, you forced them to bow down to your queen.” he stopped moving, his back to arthur. “it’s time you pay for what you’ve done. goodness, you’re lucky i’m not going to take their side. if i were one of them…” his voice trailed off into a quiet, maniacal giggle. “ehehehe… well.” he composed himself, then let out a sigh. “if you promise to be a little kinder to me– and to everyone else– i might just think about helping you, poppet…”

2p!france: his eyes fell on francis. he recognized the vibrant blonde hair almost immediately. “…shit.” a few heartbeats later, he instinctively took a drag of his cigarette. “you look disgusting…” he stated without emotion as he hovered above his fallen self. “you look like… me. it’s weird.” he plopped down to sit beside him. “looks like we lost, huh?” he waited for an answer, but didn’t receive one. “this sucks… i don’t know how you dealt with the war scars all these centuries…” he exhaled heavily, then peered at francis again. “you did a good job of hiding your pain, but how you’re feeling right now? it’s how i feel all the time.” putting out his cigarette, he reached for his parallel. “c’mon. i’ll carry you outta here.”

2p!russia: “looks like you finally understand.” ion scowled down to his counterpart. “when you hurt people, they hurt you back. it’s a continuous cycle. violence is inane and unnecessary. how many times must i tell you?” he shook his head in disappointment. “how did i wind up with someone so twisted? ivan, you need to listen to me more.” he reached out his red mitten-clad hand. “as always, let me help you. but let us rethink who makes our nation’s decisions. for once… will you listen to me?” he helped him up. “it is going to be alright… please don’t cry anymore… i’ll never abandon you, and i sincerely hope you understand that, little boy.”

2p!Iitaly: carelessly, he chuckled. “what happened now? did you get kicked around again, loser?” bored, he sauntered over to feliciano. “hey… oh… fuck, is that blood?” upon closer inspection, he realized the severity of his parallel’s wounds. “did someone actually…” he trailed off when he noticed that the tears were coming slowly and quietly, not brash and chaotically like they always did. “…someone really hurt you,” he stated, more to himself than to feliciano. “this makes me… so angry…” his fists clenched. “why do enemies prey on the weak? feliciano, why do you let them push you around?!” his words were like venom. “i’ll make them fucking pay… if they want to release our dark side, then so be it…”

2p!germany: “bruder…?” stunned, lutz rubbed his eyes. the sight before him was unthinkable. he’d never thought he’d have to see ludwig like this again. “i thought… these days were over.” dejected, he sank down to his knees beside him. “but… you fought your hardest, and you were on the right side this time, so don’t blame yourself.” carefully, he patted his shoulder– the one that wasn’t bruised or beaten. “you did good, ole’ ludwig.” despite the inner pain he was feeling, lutz managed to grin at him. “you’re a real soldier. the best i’ve ever known.” he scooped him up and carried him over to the paramedics without another word.

2p!japan: his expression was stern. “look at yourself. those wounds will soon heal into scars of honor. however… these tears…” he crouched down and pulled out a clean white handkerchief. “you’re stronger than this,” he gently wiped them away. “the honda kiku i know would continue to fight. you’ve earned everything you have. you’re above them, and it’s time you show it.” he stood back up. “your energy lies not in a limited container; it’s your will that keeps you going. i know you, kiku. get up, and show them how far you’ve come. do it now.”

2p!canada: “kid… who did this to you?” he shuffled over to the fallen nation. “you’re crying… whatever happened, you didn’t deserve this.” he hovered above him, watching him closely, knowing full well that his life was not in danger. “…you work hard. i’ve seen it. you don’t let anyone know how much shit you’ve gone through, and you put on a smiling face to conceal it.” matt’s own expression was blank. “i’ll never understand you.” after a moment, he sighed and ran a hand through his overgrown hair. “listen, kid. even if i don’t get you, i’ll still help you. don’t even bother to explain what happened or what’s going on. tell me who did this to you and we’ll both go hunt them down. got it?” he tugged matthew to his feet. “you’re gonna be okay. wanna release the bears?”

2p!romano: “lovino!” his heart racing with fear, he ran over to his other self. “lovino, can you hear me? have you been shot? did someone cut you?” his expression twisted with anxiety. “are they gone? i-i need to call an ambulance…!” he searched lovino’s body for dire wounds. when he knew for certain that he wasn’t on the brief of destruction, he felt a rush of hot tears in his eyes and held tightly onto his counterpart’s hand. “lovino… i’m so sorry… i’m weak, and i can’t fight… but you…” he held him closely, their foreheads touching. “you’re so… reliable… i couldn’t have wished for a better person to call my counterpart.” together, they waited for help to come, their sobs muffled by each others’ embrace.

2p!austria: “you look… so cute…” roland grinned sadistically, showing off rows of razor-sharp teeth. “my poor little roderich… defeated in battle as always~” giggling, he laid over him, caging him in. “you try so terribly hard, and it’s very admirable. you’re built for other things, and we both know it. you’re a damsel in distress, and oh,” roland winked playfully. “what does that make me? ah… yes. your knight in shining armor, coming in to save you as always.” he pressed a soft kiss to his counterpart’s hair. gracefully, he picked him up bridal-style. “now, away we go!~” laughing maniacally, he ran at high speeds, skillfully evading any and all dangers with his swiftness, strength, and aid of black magic.

2p!prussia: feelings of dread and sorrow crashed over his body. “gilbert…” it pained him to see his parallel not only in this much physical torture, but here at rock bottom– fallen, defeated. crying. he rarely saw this side of him. this side of him… is usually me, gilen realized. “this isn’t you.” he knelt beside him and gently held his face. “bruder. is this what you’ve become?” when he failed to answer, gilen felt a sting in his eyes. tears were prepared to fall, as usual. “i… i won’t let you become like me. y-you’re too great for this. gilbert, i need you to keep going! you can do this, i know you can… you’re…” he felt droplets slide down his cheeks. “you’re amazing in every way. y-you’re so much better than me and i don’t deserve to be related to you! gilbert… please… say something…”