#1. legacy of hatred

[kingdomtual]

intro: legacy of hatred is still the intro to beat all intros ever

[al-luviec]

compiled whatever this is (and I run out of tag space)

meh HoT gifs (3/?)

[velvees-archive]

At 20 years old, Miles Edgeworth’s only mentor tells him never to step foot into his opponent’s territory lest he fail to crush them in court. 4 years later, Edgeworth enters Defendant Lobby No. 1 to warn opposing counsel Phoenix Wright about Redd White’s decisive testimony.

Some post-AAI1 reflections + how Phoenix unravels Miles from the very moment they meet again.

After playing through the original trilogy, up to 4-2 on Apollo Justice, and all of Ace Attorney Investigations 1, I couldn’t help but jot down my (admittedly incomplete) thoughts about Phoenix and Edgeworth’s relationship, especially as it pertains to Miles’ “unraveling,” or his departure from von Karma’s teachings.

We already know von Karma had no love for Edgeworth. Crushing the late Gregory Edgeworth’s legacy under the guise of mentoring his son (and eventually ruining his career at its peak) was von Karma’s last act of hatred towards the departed.

From Miles’ perspective, however, von Karma was an accomplished teacher to whom he owed his gratitude and career’s success. This is important because Edgeworth’s actions are fundamentally motivated by his desire to express his “gratitude,” repay debts, and honor legacies.

His debt to von Karma compels him to strive for the perfection his mentor obsesses over. Achieving perfection takes the form of absorbing von Karma’s teachings, among them the AAI1 screenshot from earlier: only face your opponent in court, and make sure you crush them when you do it.

We know for a fact that the “demon prosecutor” internalizes von Karma’s teachings. He follows them to a T.

So, following 15 years of indoctrination, 4 years of putting the von Karma creed into practice, and an entire childhood AND early adulthood’s worth of gratitude, you’d THINK Edgeworth wouldn’t dare dishonor him…

Until he does, by coming to the defendant lobby to speak to his “enemy.”

Prior to playing AAI1, I thought the impetus for Edgeworth’s character development was 1-3, wherein he reevaluated the facts of the case and helped Phoenix get Dee Vasquez a guilty verdict. I still think 1-3 was the first time he consciously acknowledged the possibility (keyword: possibility) that his prosecutorial upbringing wasn’t..sound…(lmao!)

But with this AAI1 von Karma and Bratworth interaction, I now believe it was 1-2—with Edgeworth subconsciously disregarding his mentor’s teachings and Phoenix acting as the catalyst—that shows us when he first strayed from the path of a Von Karma.

An aside: Do I think AAI1 Bratworth was perfectly characterized? Not at all; he’s much too noble for that era of his life, though I don’t think it affects my case.

Edgeworth is a man full of contradictions. He comes to the defendant lobby to tell Phoenix his case is hopeless, though he has no obligation to disclose—nor has he ever set a precedent of disclosing—decisive witnesses’ information to his opponents.

He tells Phoenix he’ll do anything to get a guilty verdict, yet he warns the defense that his witness’s testimony will be considered infallible, prompting the player (Phoenix) to dissect the following testimonies with more care.

He tells Phoenix not to expect any special treatment from him, yet his very presence in the defendant’s lobby is in direct opposition to his respected mentor’s wishes.

It takes just one appearance from Phoenix for the filaments of von Karma’s indoctrination to unravel. 4 years into his career, Edgeworth has met many attorneys—most notably, Mia Fey—who embody Phoenix’s faith in his clients, yet none could shake his foundations like Phoenix Wright.

Edgeworth may have not been ready to turn a new leaf upon his first encounter with Phoenix, but the fact that a loose thread from his childhood (that’s emblematic of his innocence, his dreams, and dare I say his father’s drive) ultimately leads to his unraveling is poetry if I’ve ever seen it.

TL;DR Phoenix deconstructs Edgeworth like he was born to do so. The moment Phoenix decided to chase after him, Edgeworth had already lost.

[critterbitter]

re: your thoughts on legendaries (which is very cool and based) what’s your take on the differences between legends:arceus giratina and platinum giratina, especially since you defined them as hating the world? specifically the bit where giratina (at least seemingly) actively defended the world from cyrus trying to destroy it, after trying to do the same thing with volo’s help centuries prior?

Weird ghost worm upon yee (AND MORE ART BELOW CUT!)

Anyways, here’s my mad ramblings about Giratina and Arceus’s backstory.

Tldr: Giratina’s a conglomerate of angry souls scorned by Arceus.

(Here’s the playlist. It’s all about worms.)

How it Started.

The original one has chosen favorites over the passage of time. Heroes, legends, protagonists…

Arceus intervenes for those it loves, and the consequences of a god touching the mortal world is devastating in its entirety. One act of divine intervention causes entire civilizations to collapse. One whispered suggestion drives an entire legacy insane.

So Arceus, paralyzed by its love for the mortal world, acts very little, learning from its mistakes. Apathy soaks through every motion. And thus is the way of the world.

But people love the Originator. Religions are born from Arceus’s rare deeds, and generation on generation taught its benevolence. Imagine spending your entire life chasing after that golden light. Imagine knowing its real and there, and it loves you.

Imagine begging it for help, and seeing it turn away when you need it most.

I think those people would feel very abandoned indeed, if they spent their lives worshipping, and receiving no response at all.

Giratina is born from the abandoned, the lost, and the angry. They’re a hundred thousand souls who’s adoration turned to spite. They’re an entity who demands for Arceus to look at them, so they can finally rest.

Arcues can not look at them in full, because if it does Giratina will fade.

(Scio, beloved. For I can not let you go.)

So the Original One banishes the Unwanted Beast into the distortion world, and Giratina seethes, and starves, and screams.

(Here are two truths about the Beast Between Dimensions—

1. Some part of them still loves Arceus. Arceus is their anchor, after all— the sole reason why they exist, why they are. But Arceus can not love it back in a way that matters, and that hurts.

2. Giratina is made of a thousand voices. Some of these voices remember that there’s a world above. They miss it.)

Why Giratina attacked Hisui in PLA:

PLA Giratina’s not a new god, but they’re very, very bitter and barely coherent on a good day. Volo serves as a conduct to help unite the broiling mass of ghosts against Arceus, and thus Giratina’s hatred overcomes any flickering affections they have for the land.

It doesn’t help that Arceus intervened for Hisui, sending Akari to directly stop Volo from summoning Giratina.

(As for Volo, well.

Imagine being a child who was thrown into the future due to Palkia and Dialga’s fits, who learned his people (his world) no longer exist beyond a shadow in the history books and a single, bitter lore keeper.

Volo doesn’t remember his original culture beyond vague imprints and singing praises to Sinnoh, but he knew he was loved, and he knew his family is dust four hundred years in the past. There’s a special sort of rage in him that echoes Giratinas.)

(Why did you abandon my people, Arceus? What kind of god are you, to leave those who love you so callously behind?)

(Maybe some part of Giratina recognizes Volo, beyond a feeling of kinship.

Maybe some part of Giratina grieves because it recognized the child Volo was.)

When Volo gets his pound of flesh, (when he realizes Arceus is not beholden to him, that the inherent alien morality Arceus holds is not a personal slight), Giratina will finally rest.

Anyways what I’m trying to say is: Arceus is never a person, but a nebulous embodiment of the connection shared between pokemon and humans. It tries to experience what it’s supposed to embody, but millennia of watching people be and cease has given it choice paralysis, apathy, and a hoarding issue. If something lasts forever next to it? Good.

Giratina was once a person. (Correction, a LOT of persons.) They don’t think very linearly either, but they have context on mortal matters and are thus the more benevolent and malicious of the two. One day, time will smooth them into something like Arceus. We can only hope the two keep each other in check.

THE DIFFERENCE OF LEGENDS ARCEUS GIRATINA VS PLATINUM PEARL GIRATINA

If the ancient version of giratina is an angry conglomerate of ghosts scorned by Arceus, the modern iteration of Giratina’s a creature that’s more settled in its skin and more assured in its duties. Giratina still has beef with Arceus, but they unionized into one being who’s love of the mortal world has triumphed over its ancestral grudge. One might even postulate they have shifted their anchor from Sinnoh the god, to Sinnoh the place.

((We call this character developement. Good for you, weird ghost worm!))

(((FULL DISCLOSURE, VOLO BEING FROM THE PAST IS INSPIRED FROM FOXFALL. You know. The fic that got me into this fandom. Please give it some love.)))

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Secret |15 - Final|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You just wanted a happy life with your girlfriend but then Ghostface attacks, revealing long thought to be buried family secrets.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 2.6k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Everything happened so fast, first she was getting her inhaler, then next thing she knew Amber was shooting Liv in the head. Tara didn’t think when she grabbed Amber’s arm, she just was trying to save Sam and then you. Tara had spent most of her time duck taped in the closet until Sam rescued her. She had wanted to go find you, but Sam wouldn’t let her, she said they needed a plan. Their plan worked, after Richie and Amber’s little monologue Amber came to get her again, finally separating the two and allowing Tara and Sam to make their move.

While Sam took out Richie, Tara handled Amber. She shot her best friend in the head. She didn’t even hesitate to do it. She did it partly because Amber was running at her sister, Gale, and Sidney with a knife, but another part of her just wanted her dead. She hadn’t fully processed it yet, but she knew Richie was with Sam the night she was attacked, the night that started all this, that meant Amber attacked her. She also wasn’t stupid, she knew Amber didn’t like you, she didn’t think Amber’s hatred was also murderous but now she knew, Amber was the one that had hurt you, Amber was the one who killed Dewey.

She couldn’t get the image of what happened out of her head. When she didn’t see you with the others she ran into the kitchen, seeing you lying in a pool of your own blood. Your shirt was soaked in blood, it seemed Amber stabbed you over a dozen times. Your right pant leg was also soaked in blood where Amber had shot you.

Despite all the blood Tara didn’t hesitate to drop to your side, ignoring the pain of her own injuries. You were still conscious, looking directly up at her but it didn’t seem as if you were really seeing her. Tara kept whispering to you but there was no reaction, you just kept staring at her with love then confusion. She tried to get you to stay awake, but you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

Tara waited impatiently as the paramedics came. She had to be held back by Sam as they loaded you onto a backboard, into the ambulance, and then took off. Tara wanted to ride with you, but the medics refused and made her get in her own ambulance. She was vaguely aware of Chad and Mindy being loaded up as well, but her mind was only on you.

She couldn’t lose you; she didn’t know what she would do without you. You were the only one who was always there for her, the one person who loved her unconditionally, she couldn’t handle losing you. You were too good for her, she always knew that, but now it was clear. Her best friend tried to kill you and wanted to make you suffer just because Tara loved you and not her. You didn’t deserve any of the pain Amber and Richie inflicted on you, you deserved so much better than all of them, you’d didn’t deserve to die because of them.

Tara was sitting in the waiting room; she had been there ever since she was discharged. You were still in surgery, and they wouldn’t let her see you. She couldn’t help but wonder if this is what it was like for you, you were at her side the second she woke up, you had to wait around for hours not knowing if she’d live or die. The only difference between you waiting and her waiting was that she had Sam by her side, you had been all alone.

“Ms. Weathers?” a doctor asked, snapping Tara out of her thoughts.

She instantly sat up, Gale sat across from them, she had been there since getting herself looked at as well. Tara nor Sam hadn’t said a word to Gale, they barely acknowledged them when Sidney came up to sit with Gale. She knew you wanted nothing to do with Gale but the one good thing about having Gale there was that they could get answers. Gale was your birth mother, she was family, the doctor had no problem informing Gale of your condition, he had refused to do so when Tara asked for an update on you.

“Yes?” Gales said, standing up on shaking legs.

“It was touch and go for a while,” the doctor began. “But she’ll make it.” Tara released a breath; you were going to be okay. “Her previous stitches were ripped open, she was stabbed fifteen times,” Gale tried to hold back a sob. Tara couldn’t help but bring a hand to her mouth, you had lost so much blood. “She was shot in the knee, luckily the bullet was a through and through. It will take a lot of physical therapy but I’m hopeful she’ll be able to walk without much issue or assistance.”

“Can we see her?”

“Yes,” the doctor nodded. “But I’d like to keep it to only one or two people.”

“Thank you.”

Tara’s eyes fell to the floor when the doctor left. You were stabbed so many times, even more than she was. You were shot, you were actually shot, Amber shot you in the fucking knee. Tara couldn’t even imagine the kind of physical therapy you’d need, even if the doctor thought you’d be okay.

“You should go,” Gale said, snapping her out of her thoughts. Tara looked up at her, furrowing her brow. “She’s definitely not going to want to see me,” Gale gave a sad smile. “You should be there when she wakes up.”

Tara nodded, not able to find her voice. She looked back at Sam to make sure it was okay. Sam nodded and offered her a soft smile. “I’ll be right here,” she whispered.

Tara nodded and hesitantly made her way down the hall. She knew it was over, but she was at ease knowing Sam would be just in the waiting room if she needed anything. She didn’t intend to leave your side though, not until you woke up, probably not even then. You were by her side the entire time and she would do the same for you.

Tara let out a shaky breath as she rested her hand on the door handle to your room. She finally pushed the handle down, struggling as she tried to squeeze through the door with her crutches. The doors were heavy, she was regretting not asking Sam to walk her to your room. When she finally managed to get into the room without falling, she was instantly met with the sight of you unconscious in the hospital bed.

She made her way to your bedside, looking down at your broken body. You were in a hospital gown; she could see the bandage around your arm from when you had first been slashed with the knife. She could make out the bandaging around your shoulder where you were stabbed peaking out from the gown by your neck. Your leg was wrapped up, propped up with something hanging from the ceiling to elevate your leg but also prevent you from moving it. Based on how you looked at the moment it would be a while before you could properly bend your knee again. The one thing she couldn’t see was all the stab wounds under your gown, she knew they were there though.

She gently plopped herself down in the chair by your bed side, scooting it as close to you as best as she could. Then she just stared at you, you didn’t look in pain at least, you were unconscious and were probably being pumped full of all kinds of meds, but it brought her comfort knowing you didn’t seem to be in pain at the moment.

She wondered what went through your head as you sat at her bedside waiting for her to wake up just a few days ago. She couldn’t imagine what was going through your head because her mind was spiraling. All Tara wanted to do was get up and pace around, she wanted you to open your eyes so she could see that you were okay. She wanted nothing more than to sleep, the exhaustion from the past few days catching up to her but she didn’t want to sleep knowing you might wake up.

You had a TV in the room, but she didn’t bother turning it on, she didn’t even want to try flipping through channels to put something on in the background. She slouched down in the chair, resting her head on the back cushion as she kept her broken leg stretched out. She kept her gaze on you, the light rise and fall of your chest being the only thing she could focus on, she could hear the steady beep of your heartrate monitor as her eyes got too heavy for her to keep open anymore.

Tara’s eyes snapped open, she winced as she jumped awake, jostling her leg a little too much. She looked around trying to figure out what startled her until her eyes landed on you. She furrowed her brow until her eyes widened at seeing you looking back at her.

“You’re awake!” she sat up in her chair. She was sure she would have jumped to her feet if she could. “How long have you been awake?” She was mentally kicking herself; she should have been awake and alert when you woke up, what if you had needed something.

“Just a minute,” you whispered. Your eyelids still seemed heavy with sleep; Tara wouldn’t be surprised if you passed out again a minutes later. “Are you okay?”

Tara let out a small chuckle, but it quickly turned into a sob. You got stabbed and shot, you were literally on the brink of death, and yet you were asking if she was okay. You frowned and tried to sit up once she started sobbing, as if you wanted to comfort her. She was quick to wipe her tears when she saw you drop your head back down onto the pillow, pinching your eyes shut as you gritted your teeth, trying to hold in your scream. She didn’t want you straining yourself just to try and comfort her.

“Take it easy,” she ordered. A few more tears fell but she ignored them, it was her turn to make sure you were okay. You opened your mouth to argue with her. “I’m fine. You’re the only one I’m worried about.”

“I’m okay,” you whispered.

“I thought I lost you,” her voice cracked. “There was so much blood, it just kept coming, there was nothing I could do,” she shook her head. The image of you bleeding out on the kitchen floor was forever burned in her head. “They didn’t know if you were going to make it.”

“Hey,” you whispered. You moved your hand across the bed like you were trying to reach out to her, but you winced at the slight movement.

Tara didn’t hesitate to reach over and grab your hand with her good hand. She closed her eyes and let out another sob, your grip was weak, but she could feel you. “I’m right here,” you said again. “I’m okay.” Tara nodded, taking in your words, you were right there, she was touching you, she could feel you, you were okay.

“Now, is it over?” Tara looked up, she didn’t miss the fear in your eyes, you were trying to be strong and comfort her, but you had been bleeding out, you had no idea what happened, you had no idea if Ghostface was still out there.

“It’s over,” Tara nodded. “I’m okay, Sam’s okay, Gale and Sidney.” Your jaw clenched slightly when she said Gale’s name, but she decided not to comment on it, you had enough to deal with.

“Chad and Mindy?”

“They’re going to make it.” Tara’s full focus had been on you, but she managed to get updates on Chad and Mindy while at the hospital, their mom had been kind enough to inform her. She had yet to visit them, but they were sharing a hospital room, awake, and already arguing with each other.

“Richie and…” you swallowed, wincing before you could say her name, Tara wasn’t sure if it was because of the pain or because Amber was the one who had done this to you.

“Dead,” Tara said, some lingering anger dripping into her tone. Your eyes widened at that. “Sam took care of Richie, and I shot Amber.”

You remained quiet for a few minutes. She knew you weren’t friends with Amber, and you never seemed to trust Richie, but it was still a lot for someone to process. “Are you okay?”

Tara looked down, thinking to herself, she really didn’t want to go down that rabbit hole. She knew she shouldn’t be okay, there was no reason she should be okay, no one would be okay after what they just went through. “Yeah,” she tried to sound convincing.

“Tar-”

“Can we talk about something else?” she rubbed the back of your hand, giving you a sad smile. The last few days had been filled with nothing but darkness and pain, she just wanted something good.

You stared into her eyes for a moment, clearly searching for something. She was hoping you’d just let it be for now and let her change the subject. “Where do you want to go?” you finally asked.

Tara furrowed her brow until a genuine smile broke out on her face. “New York,” she said easily. She wanted to get the hell out of the small town and as far away from Woodsboro as possible.

“Sounds perfect.”

 Tara got up from her chair only to sit on the edge of your bed. She ran her fingers through your hair as she looked down into your eyes. “I still want to graduate first.”

You let out an exaggerated groan, but it quickly turned into a chuckle. “Then we can finally live out our dream,” she whispered as she leaned down until her lips were barely brushing against yours.

“I’m pretty sure your sister will be living with us,” you whispered back.

“Don’t ruin it,” Tara sighed. She smiled as she finally connected her lips to yours, giving you a long, yet gentle kiss.

She knew you were right. Even if the two of you moved to New York she was sure her sister would follow. Just as she knew that Sam would never settle for letting her live on her own with you. It wasn’t exactly like the two of you always talked about but having her sister back and getting to have a life with you still seemed pretty perfect.

“I love you,” Tara whispered when she pulled away.

“Love you too,” you whispered back.

“Now, get some sleep.”

She continued to run her fingers through your hair, gently scratching your scalp as your eyes slowly closed. “Lay with me,” you whispered.

Tara looked around until deciding to grab the chair she had been sitting in and dragged it until it was pressed up against your bed. She slipped off the bed and back into the chair. As much as she wanted to lie with you the two of you each had an injured leg, and you couldn’t move without your various stab wounds causing you pain. Tara settled for resting her head on the mattress at an awkward angle and holding your hand.

She rubbed comforting circles on the back of your hand, listening to your steady breathing as she closed her eyes. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, and she was right behind you. This was the first time since she was attacked that she closed her eyes and wasn’t worried about what new horror she might wake up to.

Taglist: @r-3-becca

[hexesandroses]

A semi-long rant about Dottore's implied self-hatred, loneliness and inner struggles

I am, like many others, endlessly fascinated by Dottore, which means that I've been sucking the game dry for any Dottore content I can find; I've watched the dialogue between him and Nahida numerous times, read the "Zandik's Legacy" notes over and over and even the description of the "Wise Doctor's Pinion" from the Pale Flame artifact set. So much has already been said about him, but I'd like to offer my own two cents about an aspect of his character that is often ignored in favor of his villainy: Dottore's inner struggles.

I'll recount everything that I've gathered and tell you of my interpretation of Dottore's character.

To start, one thing that I never see people mention is a line from Nahida's retelling of the Tatarasuna incident. In the very beginning of the cutscene, we see a monster covered in light blue fur (obviously Dottore) who Nahida describes in a very interesting way. She says:

"Once in a while, the monster would take off its fox fur at night, and lament to itself as it gazed at its reflection in the water: "I am a monstrosity, yet they are too foolish to see it. I pity them."

Of course, it's easy to say that this is just a fairy tale Nahida created to preserve Scaramouche's memories and that this could've been made up - which is only half true! We must remember that Nahida has seen Dottore's consciousness. She already knew of the arguments between his Segments when Dottore confronted her to take the Electro and Dendro gnoses. Why do I bring this specific line up, though?

Because this line outright tells us that: 1) Dottore spent sleepless nights in Tatarasuna reflecting on himself; 2) That he, perhaps sincerely, pitied the people of Tatarasuna for not seeing past his facade.

I also think that the use of the word 'lament' is very interesting. To lament means to express sorrow and regret for something. I would think that this implies Dottore feeling remorseful for not just who he was, but what he would do to Tatarasuna. To provide further proof, I think it is important to look at the expression on the furry monster's face (as Nahida portrays it) when it laments to itself:

(What a cute little thing.)

It looks a bit... upset, doesn't it? Like it is mad at itself as it gazes into the water. This expression, combined with his thoughts and the use of the word 'lament' gives us a clear sign that many ignored: Dottore isn't as shallow of a villain as we thought.

Later in the cutscene, Nahida says:

"But the monster soon found solace when another came to live among the foxes who was not their kin: a kitten, carved from the wood of a white tree, who had been abandoned by the humans."

And in that moment, we see a wide-eyed little monster gazing at the kitten:

(Feels really silly to use this as an example but you've gotta trust the process)

Here, Dottore found someone like himself. An outcast, a creature that did not quite fit in with the ordinary humans - someone who could understand Dottore's loneliness and ostracization. After getting chased out of his hometown for his blasphemous ideas, after getting expelled from the Akademiya and possibly exiled to Aaru Village for his heretical views - Dottore had finally found someone to whom he could say: "See? They will never accept us. It is you and I against them, for they will never understand us."

What person wouldn't seek companionship, after all?

But things didn't turn out the way Dottore expected them to. Unlike Dottore, Scaramouche didn't need to hide his true identity in order to be accepted by the people of Tatarasuna. Thus, the following happened:

"Furious at this happy resolution, the monster lit a fire on the mountain. The terrified animals panicked as the fire spread..."

... and we know the rest. What matters is this: Dottore was angry and jealous of Scaramouche. Exiled from his hometown, rejected by his peers, insulted and looked down upon just for wanting to destroy the imbalance between Man and God - and along comes a puppet, a creation of the Raiden Shogun, who receives acceptance and guidance from the people of Tatarasuna. Not just that, but the only creature who could share Dottore's loneliness is whisked away from him, proving once again that Dottore will never know what it means to have a true companion.

Thus he tricked Scaramouche into believing that Niwa had betrayed them, had him join the Fatui and later used him as the blueprint for the creation of his Segments. Dottore basically ruined Scaramouche's life out of bitter jealousy.

That should be it about Tatarasuna for now. What I'd like to focus on next is the conversation between Dottore and Nahida in the 3.2 Archon Quest.

There are a few lines that interest me, so I'll go over them one by one.

Dottore uses a lot of big words to sound like he's saying something profound when in reality he's saying nothing at all (a nice callback to his Commedia Dell'arte counterpart), but there is one thing that both he and Nahida place great emphasis on: the fact that Dottore, smart as he is, cannot make peace with himself.

First to say it is Dottore. After asking Nahida for her opinion on his Segments, he says:

"Indeed. It's difficult for humans... to make peace with themselves, not to mention oneself from a different period."

The line still feels out of place. It sounds as if he is musing to himself.

Again, we get a line about his Segments, after Nahida asked him to erase them:

"You were observing me, and that's how you know I've long grown tired of their doubts and endless arguments."

I think it's safe to assume that the arguing is a metaphor for his struggle of self-acceptance. It seems every Segment has something to say to the others, but more on that later.

Nahida uses Dottore's own words against him:

"Like you said, it's difficult to make peace with yourself. Being as smart as you are, have you managed to do that?"

It's important to note that Dottore doesn't answer that question, but even without that, it's obvious to us, the players - of course Dottore hasn't managed to do that.

Whenever Nahida questions the relationship between his Segments, Dottore easily changes the subject. For example:

"Is the relationship between all the versions of you really that bad?"

"I don't think there's any need to dwell on that. The surplus versions of me can be exchanged for a Gnosis. Do you think anyone can offer themselves at a higher price?"

His Segments all argue constantly. When considered that they are replicas of Dottore at different stages of his life, this takes on an entirely new meaning - beyond his facade, Dottore is a man who can barely make out who he is.

Consider this also: in "A Winter Night's Lazzo", Columbina tells him, "You're looking very young today, Doctor."

To which Dottore replies, "You know very well that I do not take that as a compliment."

A piece of dialogue that had been brushed off by many, myself included - until I realized what this might imply. Dottore finds Columbina's comment insulting because he hates who he is. He hates the younger versions of himself because they represent a Dottore who didn't have the knowledge he has at this current stage of his life. They weren't as smart, as knowledgeable. But that's not really the full extent of it, of course.

Dottore was never fully accepted by anyone, this we have established. In the Akademiya, the students called him a 'madman', a 'monster' (as said in the Wise Doctor's Pinion). When we meet him in the 3.1 Archon Quest, he is referred to as 'The Outcast'. He is always being alienated, but could we assume that he just accepted this rejection and decided to embrace the titles people had thrown at him? This is just... very bold speculation, of course. It is impossible to deny that Dottore didn't always naturally stand out due to his heretical views, but I think it's worth considering that he could have just chosen to be the monster people thought of him as. After all, in the confrontation between him and Niwa, Dottore tells Niwa to think of him as a monster and a demon (for a reason that was... meant to be comforting? Not very important right now).

Consider also how different all the Segments sounded when they found out that they were being erased. All of the voices, along with their manner of speech, varied greatly; I interpreted this as proof of the many masks Dottore has worn over the course of his life. Dottore abandoned whatever humanity he had and decided to embrace the mask of a monster, constantly reinventing himself because he isn't secure in his identity - perhaps he doesn't have one at all. He is a scholar, a Harbinger, a researcher - but without those titles, what is left? What is he left with when he sheds those facades? The constant dodging of Nahida's questions about his Segments, the arguments and the worries of said Segments, the introspection in the cutscene about the Tatarasuna incident - indeed, Dottore is a man filled with self-hatred. A lonely outcast who has never known the comfort of kinship. A monster who swallowed his loneliness and dedicated his life to research.

That should be it, I suppose. My brain is fried and if I remember anything that I might have missed, I'll add that info later.

I want to mention one thing: this doesn't mean Dottore is a misunderstood good guy - doesn't take a genius to know that that is not true. Dottore has no regard for human life (which is ironic, considering how he believes humans have great potential and he wants them to be equal with the Gods). He has hurt so many and I'm sure he will continue to do so. He is evil, but it should be noted that he was once just an ordinary human, too. There must be an explanation for why he is the way he is. It's easy to paint him as just a monster because damn he's good at what he does; but I like to think that there is a layer to him that we just haven't fully seen yet. I'm excited to find out more about him when Snezhnaya gets released in like 2 years... ha. If you've read this far, thank you a lot! Curious to know what you guys think. I love Dottore

[silverwhittlingknife]

OKAY SO i have been rereading dustorange's wonderful post here about Dick in an UtRH-esque scenario where he dies & then comes back to life

AND I HAVE INCOHERENT BRAINSTORMING THOUGHTS:

so first, i think Robin!Dick would be just as hurt by the discovery that Bruce has a new Robin, and brood about it - but i think the shame of having died would stop him from confronting Bruce about it the way Nightwing!Dick does in canon.

and I do NOT think that he would expect Bruce to kill anyone for him (or even be upset that he doesn't? I just don't think this would be a consideration for Dick. he's gonna be fixated on "I failed." so he'll be upset about being replaced but not about the lack of revenge. and if Bruce did take revenge, i think he'd actually feel angry and betrayed about that because it'd feel like the choice was taken away from him, a la how upset he gets when he thinks Bruce has arranged to have Zucco killed - even if he intellectually knows that Bruce wasn't deliberately undermining himbecause he didn't know Dick was gonna come back to life.)

anyway so what WOULD he do??

what comes to mind is something along the lines of "Dick obsessively keeps an eye on Batman & Robin even while telling himself that he's not"

and then - say - if it's Robin!Tim (i feel like this has to be Tim because in the world where Dick dies there is no way that Bruce is voluntarily picking a new Robin), then maybe the moment when Dick steps in is when Bruce is in danger & he's furious / critical of Tim for not protecting Bruce well enough

and i feel like that's how he'd channel the hurt feelings - it'd all be deflected under shame and obligation, and then translated into the anger of "you replaced me & yet you're failing to do the job that you're supposed to do" (which is actually about projection/self-hatred because Dick would actually be mad at himself for having died & not doing that job anymore)

and Dick wouldn't want to see Bruce at all because of the shame over dying & subconscious fear that Bruce doesn't want him back, plus every little thing that Tim does differently would drive him NUTS because it implies that maybe the way Dick did things wasn't good enough for Bruce

i'm actually kind of fascinated by this now. because i am me and i have (1) obsession i am mostly invested in the dick & tim side of it sdfsdfds

so i'm picturing Tim very stung by whatever critical things Dick said to him & tracking this mysterious vigilante down, and then Dick doesn't want to spend ANY time with him BUT he's also subconsciously desperate for news of Bruce!!! so then something something Dick starts sorta training him a la Tim's various contacts with edgy non-batman-aligned vigilantes, and Tim's very defensive about how he IS a good robin so THERE but of course he's also defensive because he's secretly worried he's not good enough.

normally i would have tim Recognize dick since recognizing dick is tim's most basic skill HOWEVER i think it would be much more fun if tim doesn't recognize him so he can give dick a speech about legacy & the first robin: "i do x and such because that's how the first robin did it so it is Objectively Correct." which Dick will find incredibly infuriating but will be unable to counter since he cannot counter with 'the 1st robin was ME'

…hmmm i do think Dick ought to be angry about SOMETHING about batman's methods/attitude just because that's more dynamic? I feel like in order to make the adaptation work, there ought to be SOME kind of argument with Bruce right before he dies that he can still be mad about, a la the garzonas fight for Jason and Bruce. unsure what though?

okay let's see: I feel like Dick's main arguments with Bruce aren't about vigilante issues per se so much as they're about working in a team - so e.g.

1) Bruce being controlling/demanding, and 2) Bruce being secretive and doing stuff behind Dick's back, and 3) Bruce not allowing Dick enough autonomy, 4) just generally a perceived lack of trust.

SO maybe whatever The Frustrating Thing that bruce was doing when dick died is a thing he's STILL doing with this new robin, and dick is getting frustrated all over again sorta on tim's behalf but mostly on his own behalf because he never got to resolve this with bruce

but anyway that way when Bruce finally spots disguised!Dick, then they can have the fight again before Bruce realizes who he is <3

[nethersonq]

Bakura Chart 9.0: yami bakura derives joy from my misery. 100 colors.

im actually about to lose my mind why does this keep happening i was so convinced i was finally done but no. i feel like god is mocking me. what was meant to be just a silly little comparison while i was bored literally once has spiralled out of control. what is wrong with this little white-haired freak. not even the merch stays consistent. i hope he explodes and fucking dies. i hope the boiled one gets him. i hope the locust gets him. i need to run him over with a steamroller i cant do this anymore. him and his fuckass colored eye contacts are the bane of my existence. the agony this chart brings me is indescribable and insurmountable. we've reached 100 colors i might actually just combust and die.

theres just no need theres absolutely no need for all these colors. i could stop, sure, but then there'd be colors people don't know about. i keep pressing on despite my hatred for this chart. this is just my legacy now i dont even fucking know anymore. ill just be bakura eye chart guy for the rest of my days.

also people keep reblogging versions 1 + 3 and occasionally 5 and honest to god it feels like this

i dont know how to feel about this anymore. mostly its just "wow. you guys havent seen anything yet." i wish i could go back to like whenever i started making this stupid fucking chart just to shoot myself before it got to this point. is this how frankenstein felt upon releasing his monster to the world. how pandora felt upon opening the box. neither old age nor sickness will be what takes me, bakura eye chart will be the thing that kills me. i hate this fluffy white anime boy in ways words cant describe

color count for ver 9.0: 100. one fucking hundred. i can't say anything anymore

[obsessioncollector]

Hi friends! Inspired by @librarycards I wanted to make a post celebrating Women in Translation Month! Anglophone readers generally pay embarrassingly little attention to works in other languages, and that's even more true when it comes to literature by women, so I will jump at any chance to promote my faves 🥰 Here are some recs from 9 different languages! Also, I wrote this on my phone, so apologies for any typos or errors!

1. Trieste by Daša Drndić, trans. Ellen Elias-Bursać (Croatian): An all-time favorite. Much of Drndić's work interrogates the legacy of atrocities in Europe, particularly eastern Europe. Trieste is a haunting contemplative novel centered on an elderly Italian Jewish woman whose family converted to Catholicism during the Mussolini era and were complicit in the fascist violence surrounding them in order to protect themselves.

2. Cursed Bunny by Bora Chung, trans. Anton Hur (Korean): A collection of short stories that are difficult to classify by genre–speculative fiction in the broadest sense. The first story is about a monster in a woman's toilet, which sounds impossible to pull off in a serious, thought-provoking manner, but Chung does so easily—these are the kind of stories that are hard to explain the brilliance of secondhand.

3. Sweet Days of Discipline by Fleur Jaeggy, trans. Tim Parks (Italian; Jaeggy is Swiss): Another all time favorite! The cold, sterile homoerotic girls' boarding school novella of your dreams.

4. Toddler-Hunting and Other Stories by Taeko Kono, trans. Lucy North (Japanese): I think I read this in one sitting. Incredibly unsettling—these stories will stay with you. They often focus on the unspoken psychosexual fantasies underscoring mundane daily life.

5. The Complete Stories by Clarice Lispector, trans. Katrina Dodson (Brazilian Portuguese): I think Lispector is the best known writer here, so she might not need much of an introduction. But what a legend! And this collection is so diverse—it's fascinating to see the evolution of Lispector's work.

6. Our Lady of the Nile by Scholastique Mukasonga, trans. Melanie L. Mauthner (French; Mukasonga is Rwandan): Give her the Nobel! Mukasonga's books, at least the ones available in English, are generally quite short but so impactful. Our Lady of the Nile is a collection of interrelated short stories set at a Catholic girls' boarding school in Rwanda in the years before the Rwandan genocide. These stories are fascinating on many levels, but perhaps the most haunting element is seeing how ethnic hatred intensifies over time—none of these girls would consider themselves particularly hateful or prejudiced, but they easily justify atrocities in the end.

7. Extracting the Stone of Madness: Poems 1962-1972 by Alejandra Pizarnik, trans. Yvette Siegert (Spanish; Pizarnik was Argentinian): Does anyone remember when my url was @/pizarnikpdf... probably not but worth mentioning to emphasize how much I love her <3 Reading Pizarnik is so revelatory for me; she articulates things I didn't even realize I felt until I read her words.

8. Flight and Metamorphosis: Poems by Nelly Sachs, trans. Joshua Weiner (German): Sachs actually won the Nobel in the 1960s, so it's surprising that she's not better known in the Anglosphere. Her poems are cryptic and surreal, yet deeply evocative. Worth mentioning that this volume is bilingual, so you can read the original German too if you're interested.

9. Frontier by Can Xue, trans. Karen Gernant and Chen Zeping (Chinese): Can Xue is another difficult-to-classify writer in terms of genre. Her short stories are often very abstract and can be puzzling at first. I think Frontier is a great place to start with her because these stories are interconnected, which makes them a bit more accessible.

[reuben-7991]

Octavian’s treatment is one of my least favorite things about HoO because it isn’t his character, it’s his lack of one.

We COULD’VE had an excellent character who was a look into what could truly go wrong with blind devotion like Octavian’s, drawing an excellent parallel to Luke’s blind hatred in the original series (Percy even says Octavian reminds him of Luke).

We COULD’VE had a fantastic contrast into a follower’s descent into insanity after making empty promises of power whilst under the influence of a massively elder being, thus leading to said follower’s death.

What makes me especially mad is that Octavian has no backstory. This is a problem with a lot of Roman characters, but Octavian especially. He doesn’t even have a last name. All we know is:

- He’s a legacy of Apollo.

- He used to be sane and probably very charismatic, due to Reyna stating she used to have a crush on him in TTT.

That’s it! One of Rick’s gold stars is that his human characters are just that: human. They have motivations and flaws, deeply personal origins and ideals that affect their actions and their outcomes. None of the villains are just plain villains, evil by birth. They have motives to back up their actions (now weither those motives make sense or not, that’s another story, but they’re still there.) There’s Luke, Medea, Lityerses (who is an entire other can of worms), Circe, Loki, Gunilla, Randolph, hell, even Kronos and Gaea. All of them have reasons for the shitty stuff they did. Octavian is a glaring exception. We know he’s power-hungry, but we don’t know why. We know he’s violent, but we don’t know why. We know he hates the Greeks, but we don’t know why. You may argue ‘oh, he’s a minor character, he doesn’t really get a reasoning’ which is just blatantly untrue on both fronts.

1: Octavian is NOT a minor character in the slightest. He has major roles in the plot throughout the books.

2: Him being a ‘minor’ villain wouldn’t have anything to do with his motivation. Chris from the OG series has stated motivation, and he’s way more minor than Octavian.

Another thing is that Octavian’s insanity is played off almost comically. He’s relatively well put together in SoN, only being super dramatic and reportedly blackmailing Hazel and probably other legionnaires, but by BoO he’s absolutely broken. He’s utterly obsessed with being a hero to the Romans, with being Pontifex Maximus, with killing Gaea and almost proving himself to Apollo (who is utterly disgusted by him), but it’s all either framed as ‘hate this guy more plsplspls’ or brushed away to the side.

I’m torn on his death scene, because it’s a good scene overall but too much of it is humorous in my opinion. Between Will calling Octavian an ‘anemic loser’ (which like. what.) and Leo describing his screams as a little girl’s, it seems almost too light for such a pivotal point in the story. Octavian has truly lost himself to madness, ranting and raving and insisting no, HE has to be the one to kill Gaea, HE has to be a hero.

His death is horrific, yet it’s framed as a silly oopsie.

What the fuck.

Overall, Octavian is a shining example of missed character potential. We could have gotten the Riordan special and made to empathize more with our villain, like what happened with Luke or Randolph from MCGA, but all we get is a crazy blond kid, character so shallow he could count as a tide pool. It infuriates me to no end how in a sea of good, properly motivated antagonists, Octavian is the outlier.

It’s a real shame.

[thatwordybirb]

The tale of All for One and One for All - a story of legacy, of inheritance, of heirs to hope and hatred. We know the version where a child raised in loveless luxury breaks when his cursed quirk kills his family, is raised in the shadows and molded to be a monster - but what if he was found by the world's greatest hero and raised with love by a rat that walks like a man bearing similar scars? We know the version where a quirkless young man, beaten but never broken, wants nothing more than to be a hero despite the discrimination he faces, his determination at long last rewarded one day - but what if that reward never came, his shattered dreams twisted by the world's greatest villain into a crusade that sets the world aflame? A role-swap AU that puts Tenko in the hands of All Might and Nezu and Izuku in the hands of All For One that explores trauma, recovery, family, and how many of the ills in society can't be solved by just one man in a cape.

Finally starting to release one of those novel-length fics I keep mentioning! Or, well... keep muttering under my breath about in the tags of my various posts, eheh. Been working away at this one for a year, so, those of you who stumble across this: hope the effort shows, and that ya find it entertaining! Will be updated weekly for the next month or two!

Extra special thanks to my buddy @secretgaygenttomura for the cover art! One of my beautiful beta readers and all around beautiful person that is also open for commissions~! Equally big thanks my other beautiful beta readers and my various lovelies that keep this heart beating, this soul hoping, and these hands moving. You know who you are, and I adore ya to bits~!

[codenamesazanka]

About Deku telling Tenko's story - two things:

1) People might actually already know about Tenko's story, given this panel:

+ All Might finding out Tenko's name, which implies Deku told All Might all the stuff that went down, and I can't think of any reason why Deku wouldn't have told Tsukauchi either, hence the "ongoing investigation".

It's just that people do not care that Shigaraki was a manipulated puppet. Literally the interviewees in the documentary say they don't care, they refuse to care. Shigaraki Tomura is still just a piece of shit monster to them. Hell, I bet they will just blame Shigaraki for not being strong enough to resist the grooming. They blame every other victim for not enduring enough and lashing out, so why not Shigaraki as well?

And like, what purpose would it serve beyond trying to rehabilitate Shigaraki/Tenko's image a bit? That is something that should be done, but the guy's dead. He can be pitied, and the blame shifted into AFO, the remembrance a little softer, but I doubt they'll be naming a park after Tenko like they do for the littlest cancer patients.

(tbh Deku's telling of the story will also just have Shigaraki/Tenko go down in history as the saddest victim ever, an eternal crying five year old who really never had a chance, whose life was probably over before it started, and definitely over when he was given Decay; and frankly idk if that's any better for his legacy. At least Spinner's version will probably remember Shigaraki as someone who cared about his friends and liked games like any other 20-year-old nerd.)

There's no 'lesson', either, because AFO was a unique evil, so him getting defeated is the end of his puppeteering. There is just a very low chance of another Villain popping up who has the time and resources to kidnap a child to raise them into endless rage and hatred in order for them to become a vessel and also destroy society? There are doubtless kids being raised into criminals and Villains by criminals and Villains and gangs or whatnot, but not to the extent Shigaraki went through.

At best what telling Tenko's story can get us is a focus on identifying and rehabilitating groomed and 'faultless' Villains, but we can see from Twice's past being known to Hawks, Dabi's story being known to the public, and Toga's story semi-known to Ochako enough that she has decided to tackle quirk counseling - all stories of Villains being formed out of societal distortions instead of innate evil - that this isn't done for them either. There's just no interest in rehabilitating Villains, and frankly, Deku doesn't seem to have an interest in it either.

2) Telling the story is probably a bad look publicly for Deku, and Heroes, and All Might.

Deku reveals Shigaraki as an entirely coerced victim, a life-long manipulated puppet who never had agency and never made a choice of his own... and he failed to save the guy. In fact, he killed the guy. Essentially Shigaraki was a hostage held by AFO, and Deku took out the the perp along with the hostage. That at least should guarantee some criticism. (art imitating irl fandom wank)

Other questions: how could Heroes not have known this earlier? Why didn't Heroes put a plan in place to save Shigaraki? Couldn't they have dealt with him non-lethally? All Might was involved in his tragedy - why didn't he do something earlier? Why did he never check up on the Shimuras?

Deku can't really tell Tenko's story without drawing blame on himself and the Heroes, and that might be too risky for a post-war society.

[dinarosie]

Snape’s Legacy Goes Beyond His Flaws: part 1

I wrote this post to highlight moments when, despite his personal wounds, Snape still chooses to save the lives of the Marauders. My goal was to show how, no matter how flawed, Snape acts as a brave hero who prioritizes human life. The comments below genuinely surprised me, and they actually make me want to quote specific passages from the books to showcase Snape’s actions. I'm splitting this post into two parts, as including all the quotes from the books makes it quite long.

It’s honestly hilarious when some people keep telling: 'read the books,' while they seem blissfully unaware of how things actually go down in the story. One can only hope that one day they’ll realize fanfics aren’t the original books. Shocking, I know—but those are just fans playing with their own imagination, not a hidden version of the canon.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, THE PRINCE’S TALE: dark night: He was accompanied by other hooded Death Eaters, and ahead were Lupin and a Harry who was really George. . . . A Death Eater moved ahead of Snape and raised his wand, pointing it directly at Lupin’s back — “Sectumsempra!” shouted Snape. But the spell, intended for the Death Eater’s wand hand, missed and hit George instead — Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, HERMIONE'S SECRET: “I don’t know — Harry, look at Snape!” Together they peered around the bush at the other bank. Snape had regained consciousness. He was conjuring stretchers and lifting the limp forms of Harry, Hermione, and Black onto them. A fourth stretcher, no doubt bearing Ron, was already floating at his side. Then, wand held out in front of him, he moved them away toward the castle.

Let me lay it out clearly: in this scene, Snape’s priority is to save the lives of four people and uphold justice:

Snape is taking the most honorable approach here. He knows that three of his students have directly disobeyed him, put themselves in harm’s way, and even teamed up with Black, a known fugitive, against his warnings. Yet he controls his anger because his first priority is their safety and getting them back to school unharmed.

Snape believes at this moment that Black has conspired with Voldemort, betrayed the Potters, orphaned their son, killed Pettigrew, and murdered twelve innocent Muggles. It’s no wonder he feels Black deserves the Dementor’s Kiss. Even Harry, when he believed these things about Black, felt that justice should be served and saw no issue in Black paying the price for such crimes. And remember, when Black learns the truth about Pettigrew, he’s furious enough to try to kill him on the spot. Yet, Snape has the composure and discipline to restrain his rage and sees it as his responsibility to bring Black back alive. He leaves the punishment to the legal system and to justice, refusing to take it into his own hands.

And let’s not forget: just an hour before, Sirius was openly willing to drag Snape’s unconscious body to the castle, fully prepared to bash Snape’s head against the ceiling—purely out of lingering childish hatred for Snape’s appearance and background. Sirius had no regard for the injuries he might inflict on Snape.

Barbara: I was very disappointed to see harry use crucio and seem to enjoy it his failure to perform that kind of curse in the past has been a credit to his character why the change, and did harry later regret having enjoyed deliberately causing pain J.K. Rowling: Harry is not, and never has been, a saint. Like Snape, he is flawed and mortal.

His character flaws don’t erase all the good he’s done or the impact he’s had. If you believe that being “flawed” or “grey” prevents someone from being a hero, then you’ve missed one of the core messages of the Harry Potter series. By that standard, no one in the books would be a hero because nearly every character has their own set of flaws. Even J.K. Rowling herself draws parallels between Snape and Harry, calling both of them imperfect. If you find Snape unforgivable, then logically, you’d have to find Harry Potter unforgivable, too.

Snape is a hero because he spends his life atoning for his mistakes. He stays on the right side even when there’s no personal gain, saving lives, healing others, and standing by his principles despite losing his way in darkness. He has the strength to return to the right path and stay loyal to it for years. Thanks to his courage and sacrifices, the wizarding world is freed from a dark wizard’s crimes. Because of him, innocent children like Harry aren’t left orphaned, and young mothers like Lily don’t lose their lives and families. Because of Snape’s loyalty, teenage souls like Draco Malfoy’s don’t get lost in darkness.

[jovialmoonprincess]

AU: Journey to Redemption (Part 1)

Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader 

Summary: Y/N, a young idealist in Panem, dreams of making a difference in a post-war society. As the winner of the prestigious Plinth Prize is about to be announced, a mysterious woman unveils a grim fate for Coriolanus Snow, Y/N's nemesis. Offered a chance to alter destiny, Y/N must navigate her conflicting emotions and intervene in pivotal moments to prevent Snow's descent into darkness. The story unfolds against the backdrop of complex relationships, past connections, and the challenges of a changing world, as Y/N grapples with the responsibility of shaping an unexpected destiny and challenging the very fabric of fate.

Word Count: 992

Warning(s): None, enemy to lovers, back in time, destiny, Snow being in love, Snow being Snow, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

A/N: First Fic EVER, dont be mean pls. Also Im not a english native speaker, sorry for any spelling errors. Just saw Songbirds and Snakes and Tom Blyth as President Snow is living rent free in my head! Feedback is appreciated! Follow or like (or both) for part 2!

A month still remained until the announcement of the Plinth Award winner. While Y/N was still somewhat sleepy, in the midst of summer, a brief and subtle snowfall danced outside her window. Believing she was still dreaming, the student got up, opened the window, extended her arm, and touched the flakes to make sure. It was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen; it seemed like magic. She felt the urge to run out and celebrate the arrival of snow, as she did when she was a child. Maybe the Capitol had created a new technology and was testing it in the middle of the night. It seemed like a plausible theory. Y/N closed the window and sat at the edge of the bed, still feeling the coldness of the ice on her fingers. It didn't feel like a dream; Y/N wasn't a girl who dreamed often either. The last time she dreamt, she was in a park in the Capitol, with her mother gently pushing her on the swing. The games were over, people lived happily again, all in one place, there was peace, and no one would go hungry. As a kid, Y/N had suffered through the war, something she wouldn't overcome. And even now, in a place without hunger, with clean clothes and in the best school in the country, she still wasn't completely happy. How could she be happy while people were dying outside? Y/N quietly prayed to herself that a good person would become president, and her dream could come true. For now, she could only study to become someone who could make a difference in Panem. Even if she didn't know where to start.

Y/N looked out the window, and as the snow fell, she returned to her slumber. She couldn't help but think of another Snow, one that still brought her fond memories. Y/N was an idealistic young woman, driven by the memories of war and the fervent desire to make a difference in Panem. Her father, a respected peacekeeper, had left a controversial legacy, but she strove to follow a path of kindness and justice. Her father died after a while from an illness that was never properly explained; Y/N was sure that the reason for his death was remorse—his hands had innocent blood, and he knew it. He withered away gradually, and on his deathbed, he declared his hatred for war and those who supported it. He died cursing the Capitol and its architects.

Y/N wanted to be a better person; she had this opportunity, had hope to change the world around her. Every day, while donning the Academy uniform, she mentally prepared herself to enter the snake pit that was that place. She couldn't pick fights with anyone, even though she wanted to desperately. She remembered how many fights she had tried to avoid only to end up completely ignored and still punished for her good intentions.

The snow falling outside brought back memories of a simpler time, before the fights and rivalries that marked her life at the Academy.

Y/N was beloved by everyone in school, even though she couldn't care less about those spoiled and corrupt rich kids. She couldn't stand them, but there was someone she detested even more: Coriolanus Snow. He wasn't like the others; his past was different, more similar to hers. And yet, he seemed to forget that. He only cared about his grades and not the people around him. They had fought several times since Y/N entered the academy. It was impossible for them to be in the same room without disagreeing about something. She still remembered their first fight when she asked her brother for help to finish a project of a class they were doing together, and they both ended up with the same grade. Snow, not content with just his top grade, found out and did everything to get the teacher to lower Y/N's grade. Insufferably arrogant. As beautiful as he was, he was despicable. After that, it got worse; he always reminded her that she was the second-best student in the class and that he was better, blah, blah, blah. He never even wondered if you cared about your grades. Apart from this obsession, he was nice outside the academy. You were good friends with Tigris; you loved her, and it wasn't because of Corio that you would stop seeing your friend.

Before all of this, Corio had been a nice guy a few times (most of them when he wasn't all pompous around his rich friends). You invited him to the winter ball before the first fight, close to your first anniversary in the Capitol. You danced all night, and he gave you your first kiss. It was quick, and you never talked about it again. Even that scene still gave you chills to this day. It was only after your grades increased and you began to stand out in class that he started treating you with a certain indifference. It was childish, and you felt a weight on your chest for not continuing with what you had, even if it was little. What was once little became nothing. You still saw Tigris from time to time, but Corio rarely left his room, where he had been locked studying for the last few months. You wished you hadn't left him hanging after the kiss, but you were so shocked and didn't understand your feelings. You couldn't distinguish the attraction you felt for him from the fear of losing a friend. Well, you ended up losing him in the same way.

The twist in her routine came when a mysterious woman, dressed in vibrant colors, approached Y/N on an empty street. Her words, filled with urgency, revealed a dark fate for Coriolanus Snow. Y/N, initially skeptical, saw her disbelief fade away when the woman offered an object that provided disturbing glimpses of the future. It was something like two watches joined by a golden chain. As soon as she touched it, she saw everything. It wasn't possible to hear anything, but it wasn't necessary.

The projected scenes showed an unrecognizable Snow: kissing a girl through a cell, then with buzz cut hair shooting birds in a forest, and finally, with his blond hair combed back, looking at the rector's corpse with hatred. She wanted to vomit. She didn't want to believe. Y/N didn't doubt Snow's ability to be a jerk; it had happened several times with her already. But it usually involved some petty ego fight. He didn't seem like a murderer. Y/N felt a mixture of disgust and disbelief. The arrogant antagonist of her school life now seemed destined for a path of destruction.

"Y/N, I know you're a good girl; they told me you'll be of great help at the moment, and even if you doubt me, you'll try to help everyone. The next years will be dark, you wanted your opportunity, and I'm offering it. In a month, important things will start happening in the timeline, and at certain moments, your participation will be decisive. When those moments come, you must intervene and use your intellectual and emotional intelligence to prevent the country's destruction." When the woman finally paused, it seemed like her brain still hadn't grasped the words. Y/N didn't feel fear from her; it was more like affection and compassion.

"Don't give up on him, Y/N. You know him. Even if he seems cold on the outside, I'm telling you there's still hope in something inside him."

Everything happened so quickly; in the blink of an eye, you were sitting in the cafeteria before class started with your snack in front of you, and your friends were completely unaware of your tumultuous mental journey.

"What's happening to me? Am I feverish, hallucinating for the past few hours? Everything feels like a horrible dream." She wondered, trying to distinguish the line between reality and the nightmare she had just witnessed. Her breathing was hurried; she must have looked like a lunatic. The crazy scenes still played in her mind. She wished to know what would happen, and especially who the girl passionately kissing Snow was. It wasn't the most shocking scene she had seen, but it was the one that bothered her the most for some reason.

The responsibility to prevent Coriolanus Snow's dark fate now rested on Y/N's shoulders. She found herself torn between disbelief and the conviction that something needed to be done to avoid an impending tragedy. The challenge was daunting, and the idea of helping someone she despised caused a deep emotional turmoil.

While facing this dilemma, Y/N knew she couldn't ignore the call of destiny. The month leading up to the Plinth Award became a period of anguish, both mentally and emotionally, for the mission she was destined to fulfill. The game of enemies would transform into a complex dance of redemption and understanding, and Y/N was about to embark on a journey that would challenge not only her convictions but also the limits of destiny itself.

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Thanks for diving into this story with me! Hope you enjoy the ride as much as I enjoyed creating it. Stay for more twists and turns! Cheers! 📖✨

[whatyadrawin]

The Fruit After The Flesh 18+ -CHAPTER 1-

Masterlist

Approximately 2,395 words

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt(HeadCanon) x AFAB reader

This chapters Warnings: Brief mention of self harm

A/n: This is a really self indulgent fanfic, it may have some common tropes and it will get very mature so MINORS DNI. I am making this a large slow burner because I am seriously falling in love with the setting and where the story is going. It may not be 10 chapters, it will likely be more. As with my other fics, I will finish this to completion and there will be varying amounts of illustrations for each chapter. I want to push the fact that this entire universe is headcanon. Having said all this, please enjoy. Fell free to leave a like, reblog, or comment if you're comfortable. Thank you for reading, I am so happy to be able to share my work with so many people who appreciate it.

Chapter 1

“Ma’am?”

You’re awoken from a pleasant nap by the voice of the taxi driver who picked you up from the airport.

“I hate to wake ya, but this here’s the end o’ the line fer me”

Slowly you sit up, the bright light of the sun shines into the backseat as the air conditioning gently breezes past your neck. You look out the window and are met with large swathes of yellow grass, dried up from being beaten by the sun’s intensive rays; The yellow of the grass is only contrasted by the bright azure blue of the sky, riddled with bright white fluffy clouds slowly lumbering across the horizon.

“S’good thing ya have such a small amount’a luggage huh?”

The cab driver popped the trunk and got out of the car to help grab your luggage, a small satchel of essentials and a suitcase of the last remains of the clothes you had left in Manitoba. You get out of the backseat and are immediately blasted with a wave of heat that weighs the air down.

“If you walk one mile up past this here gate, you’ll find the road getting’ ya t’yer home. I reckon no one’s been out here fer years. Ahm still not sure hwhat y’gone get up to”

You grab your belongings and thank the driver; he warns you to not take your time walking due to the intensity of the weather, then he gets in the cab and slowly drives off. You start walking past the open gate and toward the home that was left to you by a family member you barely knew. When you received the call from the lawyer dealing with the will, it was like a miracle, your business was tanking and you didn’t have much left financially. Being a seamstress in the town of Rivers was not easy, there was not enough work for you and the citizens didn’t have much to give for payment. Living there was lonely, your only friend passed away in high school because the stress of bullying got too much for her; since that incident, a deep hatred for humans remained in your heart.

You thought you had no more family left until the lawyer told you about your distant relative on mom’s side who had put you as the sole receiver to a fortune and the property. The only condition for getting access to the money was to come live on the property and care for the orchard attached to it. The lawyer informed you that your relative’s orchard had supplied the town and her written wish was for you to carry on its legacy. After living in a small town for all 33 years of your life you were excited to start fresh somewhere new, what better place to do that than Fuller, Texas which is virtually a ghost town.

The dirt road kicked up dust from your steps as you made your way to the first intersection, you took the turn and headed up the hill, the old driveway was overgrown with grass; You were grateful for the trees along the path, giving you shade from the sun, each one rustling in the gentle breeze occasionally dropping a leaf that would silently fall to the ground. Once you reached the top of the hill, you saw the house that was in the pictures the lawyer sent over, it was a small one storey house shining white in the sun. There were no trees around the front of the house but small bushes with wildflowers bloomed around it, your car was parked casually in front of the home next to a large moving crate full of the stuff you packed before you flew down. Having all your belongings and car shipped down early was a smart choice.

You made your way to the home, looking for the set of keys in your bag, the door opened with a creak and a distinct smell of old wood mixed with the ghosts of thousands of meals cooked wafted around you. The inside was quaint, all the electronics were dated but the décor was simple and rustic, this home felt cozy and welcoming as the sun pushed through the curtains leaving a gentle glow on the hardwood floor of the living room. You set your things down at the entrance and went to open every window to allow the stagnated air to circulate and cool the house before nighttime. You peered into the backyard, it was small but charming, there was a large tree that provided shade to the fenced area, and a white swing bench that had a bistro table set next to it. You walked out into the yard which was fenced by a weathered white picket fence, it overlooked the entire property. You walked up to the edge of the fence and noticed some binoculars set against one of the posts, you take them and use them to look around the land.

 You see a small home at the edge of the orchard -that must be the farmhand’s home, I should go let them know I am here and introduce myself-. You look further and see a large house in the distance, it has tall pillars in front and looks deteriorated; you slowly move the binoculars around to see the rest of that home, you find a barn and spot something large moving, you spin the binocular setting to zoom in further but struggle with the focus. After a short bit of fiddling, you manage to get a clear image and see that the moving shape was a man, a huge one, the man towers over the cow he is tending to, you squint your eyes to see if you can make out any details but all you can see is his long hair and that he has a face covering of some sort. You lower the binoculars and put your hands on your hips -who was that man? Is he really that tall? Maybe I should introduce myself to the neighbors as well-.

You spend an hour unpacking clothes and necessities from the moving crate, just enough to get you settled in, the furniture in the home still has some belongings from the passed relative that you need to clean out. After looking through the fridge and cupboards, you realize you don’t have anything to eat, and there’s no way you can get a delivery all the way out here, so you decide to take your car into town to see what’s available. The drive takes you along country road 26, you see nothing for a while and are almost startled when a small building shows up in the distance. You pull up and notice it’s a gas station and grocery store - I hope they have something I can eat in here-, you park in front of the entrance and go inside.

Everything in the store looks dusty and old, you feel a sense of unease at the prospect of going hungry tonight. You head to the register and see an older woman sitting on a stool reading a newspaper, she has white hair pinned up into a bun and thick reading glasses that look old enough to be from the 70s.

“Hi there” you say quietly

“Oh, I didn’t know someone had come in. Hi hun, how can I help you?” she places the newspaper down and stands up to greet you.

“I just moved into town and I realized I have no food for tonight, is there anything in here that can tide me over?”

“Welcome to Fuller! Let’s get you something to eat dear.” She looked surprised that you would even have to ask but she was happy to lead you over to some packaged goods and canned veggies.

“These here came in a few days ago with our latest shipment, don’t let the dust in here bother you none, I just haven’t had the energy to clean the place up better”

You smile and start grabbing some boxed oatmeal and canned vegetables, with these you would be able to eat for a day or two until you could to do a big shopping trip in the next town over.

You stop grabbing items and look over at her to say

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even introduce myself, my name is Y/N. I moved into the property with the orchard”

You are interested now, and ask “You knew her? She was a distant relative to me and I actually inherited what she had, I feel bad about it because I didn’t know her at all, but I intend to keep the orchard going since that was her dying wish”

The woman’s eyes light up and she smiles, replying “Well now there’s a welcome surprise! My name is

Luda Mae, I’m your neighbor down the bottom of the hill, we did a lot of business with the previous owner, Tilly. She was a close friend of mine”

Luda Mae kept her smile but looked away as if she was starting to tear up, she spoke in a quieter tone “She was a real good friend, she felt like a sister to me. Did you know that without her starting that orchard, my folks would have” she stopped herself and paused looking around “Well let’s just say, she saved us”

Your interest in getting to know who Tilly was had spiked, the lawyer said she was well known to locals but never expanded on that. Luda Mae continues,

“Join me and my friend for tea tomorrow, I’d love to tell you all about Tilly, and that way you can meet my family as well, it’s always nice to have a friendly neighbor. I won’t take no for an answer”

You feel a bit of anxiety creep in, meeting new people was already difficult for you and what’s worse this was in a completely new place, so far out of your comfort zone. Luda Mae takes some of the items you grabbed and brings them to the counter and bags them. You follow her and place the rest of your things on the counter and say,

“What time did you want me to stop by?”

Luda Mae hands you the food and says “Just come on by ‘round noon, I’ve lots to talk about with you, there’ll be plenty of food too so that way these groceries will last a bit longer” She gives you a wink.

“That sounds really nice actually, what do I owe you for the groceries?”

“It’s on the house hun, let that be a welcome gift” she smiles and follows with “By the way dear, be careful around that farmhand, he’s a cruel old thing. Did you move with anyone? Maybe a husband or boyfriend?”

You feel a sense of worry at the thought of being alone on a property with someone mean, let alone a man who is cruel. You reply,

“No, I don’t have anyone, it’s just me”

Luda Mae suppresses a smirk, she follows you to the exit and opens the door for you saying “We’ll keep an eye out for you then, you’ll be alright dear, he’ll get what he’s owed one day”

Those last words really sparked fear in you, was the farmhand dangerous or just mean? It might be a good idea to introduce yourself in order to find out and possibly make a connection so you don’t seem rude. You put the groceries in the trunk and get in the car, Luda Mae waves to you as you pull out and head towards home.

Once you are home and the groceries were put away, you decide to go down to the orchard to see what kind of fruit are being grown. The trees are large and densely packed with fruits of all sorts, oranges, lemons, peaches, apples, and cherries. You are suddenly startled by a large, ugly man, he reeked of body odor and wore dirty overalls.

“Who the hell’re you?” he asks rudely.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get in the way. I’m Y/N I am the new owner of this property after Tilly passed”

The man looks angry, he rolls his eyes and pushes past you saying,

“Ah thought she din’t have no family” You scrunch your nose in confusion, he continues “You best keep outta muh way”

You follow after him saying “I just wanted to introduce myself so you know who I am”

He continues walking off “Don’t care” and disappears behind another row of trees.

You feel upset, you were already weary of people because of their bad behavior, and now you have a rude, smelly man controlling the orchard that you are unsure how to get rid of. You decide to pick some fruits to bring to Luda Mae tomorrow and head back up to the house. You put the fruits you picked in a basket you found and walk back out to the yard to relax on the swing bench. -I’m going to have to get used to that asshole until I can learn how to manage this farm myself. At least I don’t have to work anymore, so I will have plenty of time to learn-.

You get up and head over to where the binoculars sat, and used them to look over at Luda Mae’s property again to see if there is a designated front door. -Why did she ask if I had brought anyone? was she asking if I was single?- The thought lingered in your mind until you saw that enormous man again, this time he was holding a chicken and watching a small group of them peck at the ground. The chicken looked so tiny in his hands, and he held it so gently, giving it soft strokes along the back of its head. You stood still watching this strange man pet a hen for what felt like an hour, his face being covered was intriguing and his wide frame was a real sight to behold even if it was from afar.

You notice the sun beginning to set and decide it’s time to get inside and get some rest, the thought of possibly seeing that strange man up close danced in your mind and excited you for tomorrow’s visit. -I hope I get to meet him-.

Next chapter-

[neonacity]

Elysium Ch.1: The Beginning of the End

Summary: What do you get when demigods are sent to the human realm as punishment for wreaking havoc on Olympus? Chaos. And a whole lot of trouble the mundane world is probably not ready to face, ever.

PROLOGUE: The Beginning

DRABBLES: Son of Shadows (JENO) | Of Love & Lust (JAEMIN)

NOTE: I know Percy Jackson has picked up again with its new series, but despite some similarities, this fic is not inspired by the lore. I have never read any of the books. All real people mentioned in the story are only my uses. I do not imply any likeness between them and my characters. A lot of the concepts from the original mythology might also be changed to fit the plot. I do not allow any of my works to be shared anywhere else. I only have Tumblr.

© neonacity 2023 - 2024

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“Say you’re given a chance to sit down with any deity and just talk to them for five minutes, who would you choose?”

You crinkled your nose and peered at your best friend from the comfort of the faded bean bag you are slumped on. The room was warm and the weather was making your eyelids droop, but you managed to shift a little on your seat to look at the boy who was currently playing self-catch by throwing a baseball against the wall. Yangyang looked equally bored as he flicked his wrist lazily with ease.

“Should it be a deity?”

“Well, yeah. It’s not like you see them every day.”

“You don’t get to see Princess Diana every day. Or Beyonce.”

Yangyang gave a snort. 

“Beyonce’s still alive, Nugget.” 

You reached out for the closest cushion pillow and threw it at the boy who effortlessly ducked to avoid it. You glared, but he simply laughed to brush you off.

“My point is that, why ask for a deity if there are aspiring people who I can get a chance to talk to?”

“Do you really hate the gods that much,” Yangyang asked with a slight frown creasing the top of his nose. 

“Do you really love them that much, Beep?” 

Now, it was his turn to scoff at the mention of his childhood nickname. Yangyang rolled his eyes before fully turning on his seat to face you. 

“For someone who studies at Rosewood, you treat the celestial world with so much irony.”

That made you pause. Rosewood Institute… An academy that had centuries of history riding on its back. In the eyes of the world, it is a regular boarding school, albeit a shadowy one. For the chosen—or as what they call it—it is a fort that means so much more than any earthly concept. 

Rosewood Institute is the frontier in the mortal world that serves as the learning nest of demigods and half-bloods.

Half-deities and children of anyone connected to the world beyond all pass through the halls of the school. While humanity has since moved on and cut ties with their connection to the gods, their legacy remains and walks among them secretly under shadows. The only exception from the half-bloods housed within the academy were the 'darlings of Olympus,' namely the children of the big honchos residing in Elysium itself. 

For many, being a part of the community of demigods is a badge they wear with pride.

Well, except for you. 

You don’t want to call it hatred, but as the daughter of a humble forest nymph, you stand in a place that still puts you in the viewpoint of someone destined to look up to those with ‘bigger lineages.’ Alas, big names can come with big egos, and so it has tarnished the way you live your life at the Institute every single day.

You slumped back in your seat now and stared at the dusty, aged ceiling of the room you and Yangyang call the Journalism Club. You wished his question was rhetoric, but the hanging silence told you that he is actually expecting an answer. 

“I am just not all hot and excited about it. You already know why.”

Your best friend sighed. The sound of a ball bouncing against the wall started again from his side.

“Not all of them are bad, you know.”

“I’m not saying anyone is ba—”

The crashing sound of something heavy, followed by the shattering boom of breaking glass made you stop. Pulling yourself up from your seat in panic, you stared in shock at Yangyang who also looked frozen from surprise. It didn’t take long for the both of you to get what was happening, and soon enough, you were both scrambling out of the room without another word.

Scratch that. Every single one of these demigods ARE trouble.

*******

“What on earth is going on here?!” The billowing smoke from the room made you cough out your words as you barged through the door. You couldn’t see way past a few feet from the dust that was still settling, but you could make out moving shapes from behind the smoke screen. You squinted hard to make out what was happening when you saw an arm shoot out of nowhere to grab at something.

“What the hell, Haechan. You said you knew what you were doing!” 

A few coughs came a little ways from your right.

“I was, I swear! I followed everything that was written in the book.”

“If you did, then how come you blew up half of the room?!”

“I might have read one of the words wrong—”

“You what?!”

“I'm dyslexic, okay!” 

You blinked away the sting that was already making you start to tear up to properly make out what was in front of you. Now with more of the dust settled, you could finally put a face on the voices. 

Huang Renjun, son of Ares, the God of War. 

And Lee Haechan, child of Athena, the Goddess of Wisdom and Warfare. 

Both locked up in what seemed to be a deathly grip—well, with more of the latter being strangled by the former.

“I am going to kick your a—”

“Hey. Stop. Is everyone okay?” 

You jumped a little as a sudden creak came off from the corner followed by the sudden burst of light into the room. Somebody had enough sense to open a window, which made the rest of the smoke finally escape outside. Standing beside it was a boy with blonde hair that almost glowed like the sunlight. 

Mark Lee. The heir of Zeus, ruler of the sky… and the God of all Gods.

“We’re good. But I don’t think the room is,” a dark-haired boy answered on behalf of the group as he toed a fallen chunk of plank from the ceiling. He turned it over with his booted foot, which only made the wood break into pieces again.

“You think? Everything is scorched off. I liked this room. Now we have to—oh… hello there, Princess.” 

“Uh-oh…” Haechan whispered under his breath as he pushed back his skewed glasses up his nose bridge. Renjun, despite himself, finally let go of the other’s collar as his eyes shifted towards the other three. Mark cleared his throat and reached out to scratch the back of his neck, so instead you turned to the only two boys who are yet to avoid your withering look. 

You froze in your place and glared at the other boy with silver platinum hair who smiled sweetly at you from where he stood. Upon his greeting, everyone in the group turned to look at you, as if it was their first time to notice you there.

Lee Jeno, son of Hades, God of the Underworld; and Na Jaemin, beloved child of Aphrodite, Goddess of Love and Beauty; looked like the poster children of light and shadows. Their current expressions drove the imagery well, too. 

“Can somebody tell me why half the room melted off?” You asked through gritted teeth, your eyes boring holes at Jaemin who was still smiling so pleasantly at you—a fact that, to be honest, only made your blood boil more. 

“Haechan tried to make a spell that he got from one of the books in the library. He… wanted to make the room cooler,” Jeno answered. 

“What do you mean ‘he’? You were all in on the act too! Didn’t you say the heat here was much worse than Uncle Hades’ second circle of the Underworld?!” The brown-haired boy in question bristled. 

“Book? What book?” Yangyang, who had run after you, but was too shocked to speak before, echoed from behind. Renjun shifted a little guiltily on his feet. 

“Well about that…”

“He got it from the Restricted Section,” Jaemin said, still looking unbothered about everything. 

You felt seconds away from an aneurysm. 

“You mean he stole it?” You emphasized the word as you shifted your gaze to the thief in question. Haechan slightly frowned and looked away.

“I just borrowed it.. “

“You are not allowed to borrow it, let alone touch it. That’s why it is in the Restricted Section!” 

“We weren’t even supposed to use it, but Renjun and the rest—”

“Me?!” 

“Is it really not possible to have any of you stay out of trouble for at least one day?!”

You wish you were overreacting, but you couldn't really be as close to the truth as you are. In fact, you are almost ready to sacrifice Yangyang's blood just to go back to the time before the 'golden heirs' of Olympus stepped foot into your life.

It had almost been a month since the boys arrived in Rosewood. As the chosen heirs of their godly parents, they stayed in their respective domains to be trained and raised differently from the rest. When news broke that they were banished temporarily to the mortal realm as punishment for a gaffe, the Academy was thrown into excitement and chaos—well, mostly chaos from your perspective. 

You’ve been wanting to know what it is exactly that these men did to be exiled from Olympus, but to be honest, they have also been keeping you up almost every single day with their antics. It’s almost like trouble is always hovering around them, and since then, you have never known peace.

“We apologize. We really didn’t mean it this time. We were just trying to learn new things,” Mark, the eldest of the group, told you placatingly. You turned to look at him with your lips in a tight line. 

“This is a school for the demigods, Mr. Lee. Not Hogwarts. You can’t try spells here.”

Jaemin frowned, his curiosity genuine. 

“What’s Hogwarts?”

“You can try spells there?” Haechan seconded. 

“To the office, all of you,” you said as you pinched the bridge of your nose. You have just turned on your heel when someone else stepped into the room, his eyes silently roaming the mess stretched out in front of him. 

Mark straightened at the sight of the man. You did the same, slight surprise marking your features.

“Headmaster.”

“Papa?”

Your father, looking the least bit troubled by the mess, turned to give all of you a smile. 

“Hello kids, it seems like you are having quite an interesting afternoon.”

“Sir, we can explain—”

“They used a spell to—!”

Both you and Mark stopped mid-sentence as he raised a hand.

“I’d love to know the full story, but for now I need to talk to all of you. Can you all please come to my office?”

*******

The boys looked around silently as they settled on their seats at the Headmaster’s office. You, not being a stranger to the place anymore, sat on the closest one to your father’s table, your fingers fidgeting slightly on your side. The man in front was peacefully making coffee as if he has not a care in the world, but you could sense in the air in the room that something was up. That was the thing about your father. Nothing ever seems to ruffle him up.

You know, having been raised by him in the walls of the Institute himself since you were a kid. Even before you officially became a student here, you have seen the way he had handled all kinds of matters in Rosewood. After all, being the Headmaster of one of the select places in the mortal world where the offspring of gods and otherworldly creatures reside does come with its fair share of trouble. 

“Is something the matter?” You braved to ask the question that everyone in the room was itching to voice out. He turned to all of you with a smile and lifted the coffee pot he just finished brewing. 

“Coffee, anyone?” 

You and Mark caught each other’s gazes before slightly shaking your heads. The rest did the same.

“Mm. More for me then,” your father murmured more to himself with a chuckle as he settled behind the ancient-looking oak table. You all watched nervously as he took his time to sip on his drink. The whole room seemed to be holding its breath. Off on your other side, Haechan seems on the verge of chewing his fingers off.

“Papa—”

“We might have to temporarily close off Rosewood,” the Headmaster said to gently cut you off. You froze, processing what he just said for a few seconds. You expected everything, except for this. 

“What??”

“There has been a little bit of trouble brewing in the borders of our world and Elysium. Today, I am going to make an announcement that students and their families have the choice to go home or stay here if they want.”

None of what he is saying makes sense. Beside you, the boys looked paler under the light.

“What do you mean we are closing down Rosewood? We never close the Institute ever!” You blurted out, unable to keep yourself quiet anymore. 

“We have never done it, yes, darling. But this time, the case is a little bit different,” the man replied to you kindly and under control still. He then turned to his other visitors with the same even temperament.

“I have been in touch with all of your parents to tell them about the changes in the Academy. They are yet to give me their answer as to when you will go back to Olympus.” 

Mark fidgeted a little on his seat and gave the boys beside him a quick look. 

“Uhm… About that…”

“Can you at least tell us what’s happening?” You said through gritted teeth as you turned to your father again. The man in question paused a little as if to study you… weighing whether to answer your question or not. Finally, he leaned back against his seat and removed his wire-framed glasses.

“Several places in the mortal world had been under attack. Monsters and beasts have been roaming the place. The celestial army has been keeping the cases down, but we expect the events to… grow.” 

That is the second time you were speechless today. You felt your palms turn cold as you stared at him, mouth open. The headmaster met all of your gazes evenly, his usually warm facade finally showing a glimpse of the seriousness of the situation. 

“What…”

“Tartarus is collapsing on itself and the world, I’m afraid, is not ready for it.” 

Your heart dropped to your stomach. 

Tartarus, the deepest place of the Underworld. 

Tartarus…

The prison of the gods’ greatest enemies. 

You stared breathlessly at your father until something clicked. Slowly, you turned to the boys sitting beside you who seemed to have turned to stone. One look and you knew. One look and the question was drawn automatically from your lips. 

A/N: Look who's back... I know I haven't been active in this account for months, but 2024 is literally just a few hours away and I wanted to close the year (and hopefully start the new one) by picking up writing again. I have no promises, but I hope this little chapter can do its magic. Happy New Year, everyone!

“You… What have you all done?” 

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