#i think i should be allowed to make a tiny mistake without feeling like everyone is going to be mad at me- esp in a fucking KIDS GAME.

[brosif40]

vent-ish because honestly I need these words shoved into my brain aha

[birdy-babe]

No one has ever thought about Blitzo's perspective and I think that's the problem: a tiny analysis/essay

I was rewatching season 2 episode 6 when something kind-of rubbed me the wrong way, and it was how Fizzarolli described the fire.

He states:

And I'm a fizz lover- dont get me wrong- and I understand he was angry and obviously not in the correct mindspace at this point in time-

But this type of comment seems so unfair considering how unfair the circus life for Blitzo was. He mentions how he's angry at Blitzo for being jealous of him- but he never addresses why Blitzo is jealous. Fizz has never (on screen) addressed or even acknowledged how unfairly Blitzo's father treated him and how Blitzo had it harder in life because of that.

I feel like it would hurt so much if your best friend was so blatantly favored by your own father, the father that abused you (I think selling your kid and forcing them to steal without a care for the child's safety counts as abuse), and your best friend never acknowledged that situation and held your jealousy against you?

Barbie does a similar thing on a more extreme level, only thinking about how the accident, the fire, losing their mother, was hard FOR HER. And if you look at Barbie, she doesn't really seem to have any scars (besides on her tail, and the tattoos on her body). Therefore we can assume that Blitzo sustained more physical injuries than her - in addition to losing their mother. Yet its all about how hard it is for her.

So far no one in the series has really ever looked past Blitzo's hard persona and think about maybe why he does the things that he does.

this obviously results in Blitzo blaming himself for the fire- besides the one "You have no idea what I lost in that fire" Blitzo never ever brings up how hard the fire was for him. He never ever allows sympathy to be directed his way in relation to the accident, not from himself or anyone around him. He's convinced he's the monster, the villain of the story. It's why, every single time the fire is brought up, he is solely focused on apologizing, on taking the blame, taking the blows from Fizz/Barbie. He never defends himself. Never once does he try to seek any comfort for himself, not once does he make it about him.

My problem is that everyone lets him.

Everyone sits back and watches as he takes the blows for everything. As if its all his fault. They place the blame on Blitzo because its easier, easier than acknowledging Blitzo's pain too.

Which brings me to Stolas.

In this current Stolas situation, where Stolas goes wrong is by repeating this same behavior that Blitzo was faced with when it came to Barbie and Fizz after the accident. Something happened, people were hurt, Blitzo was hurt, Stolas was hurt- but of course it's all Blitzo's fault - it's always Blitzos fault. Stolas takes very little blame for what happened, even though he very much is equally to blame as is Blitzo.

Also note here: Blitzo has his flaws and he does make mistakes that he needs to take responsibility for. This is not to say he is 100% innocent, he's just not 100% to blame either.

Its always Blitzo who needs to apologize, Blitzo who ruined the relationship, Blitzo who broke Stolas' heart, Blitzo who ruined Barbie's life, Blitzo who destroyed Fizz. This pattern happens so much that Blitzo's turned it into a core belief: when something bad happens, he's at fault. He's the reason behind all the bad things that happen. He's the common denominator.

Which is how we got to today: he doesnt believe he deserves love, sympathy, or comfort: because he believes hes the sole cause for all this pain: therefore why should he feel happiness when all he does is take other's away? Why should he allow himself to be loved by Stolas when he hurt Barbie so badly? When he ruined Barbie's chances at love? At a good life?

It's like he's constantly punishing himself for something he thinks he's responsible for. He thinks he deserves to be miserable as some sort of pay-back for ruining everyone's lives.

And you can see as he desperately tries to act the opposite now. It's subtle, because he has to keep up his hard exterior, but its there.

Every single one of his relationships (besides those from childhood) were created because he wanted to help. Adopting Loona to help her escape foster care, befriending Moxxie and helping him escape the abuse of his father and the mafia, befriending Millie (which we don't know their back story yet but i assume he also helped her out of a bad hole, maybe by offering her a position at IMP? We will see!).

I just think he doesnt get the credit he deserves.

I think if just one person acknowledged what happened to Blitzo, allowed Blitzo to be vulnerable, allowed him to express his feelings, allowed him to grieve and mourn the things that happened to him: he would be able to move on, and improve.

It's even worse that some of the people who are the worst offenders are also the ones to claim they love him. Verosika, Stolas, Fizz, etc. They like him for the fake persona he puts up. This enforced Blitzo's belief that he must repress things, that they wont love him if he were anyone else- if he showed his true scars and trauma and if he showed how soft he really is. They love him for his fake persona, not really for him.

So he lashes out. He's shitty. He pushes them away.

And when he does let some of that vulnerability slip? He's shit on for it. When he expresses it to Fizz, Fizz covers up his words with "Glad you could admit it, want a medal?" The only small reprieve Blitzo got was when Fizz said "I guess you didn't really ruin my life."

When he expresses it to stolas "Treat me like one of your butler imps!" Stolas's response is "You think that little of me?"

Which isnt an invalid response point to bring up (and definitely needs to be addressed, which I think Blitzo is getting to bc he's becoming very aware of his other shortcomings), but at the same time Stolas has the responsibility of thinking about why Blitzo would think that. Stolas has never really listened to Blitzo when Blitzo doesnt fit into this mold that Stolas made up of him. When Blitzo gets angry and expresses how Stolas makes him feel:

"Dont act like this is anything more than you wanting me to fuck you" "You can't just throw this feelings bullshit on me" "give me a second to think!" "Oh, sorry, this entire time I assumed the worst because I was convinced a prince could never love someone like me and I've let my self hatred stop me from apologizing to anyone I could ever care about!" "How could you ever actually care for an imp… Me? How could anybody?"

He's always faced with Stolas bringing it back to...well.. anything else. He either ignores the comment all together or he goes into what he wants.

And Blitzo isnt perfect either, but I feel like we all know that. I think that everyone is well aware of how shitty Blitzo can be, but no one really addresses everyone else. Which is why i'm not getting into Blitzo's flaws, because those are a lot more obvious.

So yeah, thats why I wanted to post this lil analysis. Also because its fun to break apart their relationships and wonder why they said the things they said, get a better understanding of the story and the characters. I could be totally off with all this but I had fun writing it lol.

This is not a blitzo/stolas/fizz/etc hate post AT ALL. I love everyone and think that the story will show us who they are.

Let me know if you agree or disagree!

[capicola323427]

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!!!

Fun fact, in making this image it was surprisingly my most easiest yet visually pleasing work. I've always viewed at as a graph like this

Of course, that isn't true! It's more like this

That is to say, I believe this illustration allowed me to focus on the efficient fundamentals I built!

Everything here was rendered with only three brushes. All of them the default brushes that come with CSP. Which includes Pastel, Airbrush, and Mechanical Pencil. Because it was a lineless style, that means I could be a lot more forgiving of mistakes here and there. Something doesn't look right? All I gotta do is add a little more with the GPen to the shape. Or can I just draw an outline in the color I want and fill it in with the bucket tool with a area scaling of 0.10! I have to practice more with lineless styles, it is fun! Rendering was a breeze too.

Which was a simple process of:

Create shape > Shade with Airbrush > Highlight with Airbrush > Shade with Pastel > Multiply Shading > Lower Multiply Layer Opacity > Overlay with Textured Fill > Move Textured Fill Layer > Finished!

It's a few steps, but once you get into the groove, it becomes very efficient. I'm sure there's ways I could shave off a few layers, like combining the Airbrush process into two layers instead of one but ehhh sometimes I do it, sometimes I don't. Usually, the bigger the shape the more likely I'll use more layers and the smaller the shape the less likely I'll use more layers! Of course, this process isn't a concrete ruling. Sometimes, I'll use more layers for extra things like the bell required more layers for rendering the shininess of metal! Anyways, I would like to believe I did a decent job at recreating the feel, the vibe, and or general look of an old Christmas Card that's more retro in nature. With a focus on simple shapes, a lineless rendering style, and using textured brushes to render, I think I got it down packed. I used a tiny bit of Chromatic Aberration to give it a little bit of a visual pop, and brighten up the colors. It's subtle, but it works.

Oh, and here's something cool! To get a more embossed Christmas Card feel, I used a new tool that came with Clip Studio Paint!

N O R M A L M A P !

Cool, right? I use a pirated copy of Clip Studio Paint 3.0 and it comes with a tool that allows you to create normal maps from illustrations. Which, from what Google tells me: "A normal map is a texture mapping technique used to add surface details to 3D models without altering their geometry" ...Neat!

Anyways, here's what it looks like

Freaky, right?

It looks like an embossed letter when you set a layer color to it too!

Anyways, I overlayed it on top of the finished illustration, set it to multiply and set the layer color to a warm yellow and it gives it not only texture but a sense of depth too! It's super cool, if you digitally paint you should try it!

With Normal Map Overlay Effect

Without Normal Map Overlay Effect

It's subtle but it's there.

Anyways, that's enough blathering from me! Merry Christmas everyone! I'll be answering some asks this week, so stay tuned!!!

[dreaisgrayte]

do you write for gyomei? if so could you write something along the lines of gyomei meeting a mother!reader who takes care of the orphan kids in her village, letting them stay at her house and providing them with everything they need,. and maybe gyomei stays the night to rest before going back on his journey to hunt a demon, but the demon ends up coming to him while trying to attack the house. but gyomei is there to protect everyone, and y/n is thankful for that. thank you!!!

I have never written for Gyomei, EVER. I'm not sure why... but I hope this is good! I wrote it in one day, which is surprising considering I wasn't sure how it would turn out. I should thank you! For getting me out of my comfort zone and possibly allowing me to make something...good? LMAO I hope it's something along the lines of what you wanted!!!!

Behind Me | Gyomei Himejima

Warnings: just a bit of demon death and wholesome children that eat rocks

Word Count: 2k

a/n: Everyone thank Anon for the suggestion!! it was a lot of fun to write someone new and from their perspective! AHH I hope you enjoy!!! <3 (it's also late so if there is anything I forgot in the post please tell me, my eyes are slowly shutting me off from the world)

Gyomei had endured a long day of trekking through the woods, hunting a troublesome demon, before coming across the border of a village. He could hear children running among adults who Gyomei believed to be strong enough. There was a small twitch to his senses as he was welcomed into the village, he could overhear the mention of an orphanage. As the scent of a good meal invaded his nose he wished to check on the children, perhaps staying the night if granted permission. Gyomei felt the vibration of someone near, the beads around his neck clicking together as he moved. “Excuse me, I’m looking for the orphanage.” His voice rumbles through his body. 

The person in front of him pauses, hopefully recognizing him to be the stone hashira. “Of course my Lord, would you like me to guide you there?” Gyomei couldn’t help but grin at the offer and respect for his position as a hashira.  

“That’s very kind of you, thank you for helping me.” He couldn’t help but get choked up after the person, likely a male based on their voice and strong grasp. Though Gyomei knew too many strong women to let that be a sole descriptor of sex. 

It took a small amount of time before the guide stopped. Gyomei could hear the pitter of many tiny feet and with the sun’s warmth fading on his skin he wanted to collect all of the children under his care. He would not make the same mistakes again. 

His heart sank in his large chest, a strong urge to start shedding tears over the past almost took over his every sense. “Oh, Chizu, what are you doing here?” A woman’s voice questions. The vibrations of her voice are soothing, the take away the worries Gyomei had rushing through his mind. Her very presence was like one of Kocho’s salves. He can feel her eyes finally land on his massive frame. He wondered if she was studying the scar across his forehead or the way his blank eyes refracted the very image he happened to be looking at. 

Gyomei’s eyes were the window into your soul. 

“I’ve brought one of the hashira to stay with you tonight.” The guide – or rather Chizu – replies. Gyomei can hear the way the woman sucks in the air, how her vibrations change to slightly protective. Good, she was willing to die for these children. The thought nearly brought him to sob. “Do you think the children will like him?” Chizu’s tone is humorous and without a second thought Gyomei is inclined to join in the jesting. 

“I make for wonderful climbing practice.” Both of them burst out in laughter and it brings a smile to his face, though laughing with kind villagers is so nice… he might start crying. 

After a moment the woman gingerly touches Gyomei’s muscular arm, the skin under her fingertips twitching. “I’m thankful for your presence my Lord, please come in.” He can feel her smile, the way she radiates kindness. He would stay here for the night and then make sure to hunt down the demon in the following days. Disgusting demons. He clutches his rosary, muttering chants to focus his mind on wiping away the muck of the world. 

Gyomei is yet again led into a short room, he can tell because he has to duck his head. Maybe the room isn’t short and rather Gyomei is too tall. “The children are all out back, washing up before dinner. Have you eaten yet my Lord?” The woman inquires. She pushes slightly on his forearm and after many years of having people try to signal things without saying anything, he knows to sit down. He’s met with comfortable tatami flooring. 

“I have not partaken in a meal yet… and please call me Gyomei.” He answers, bowing his head. The woman – he realizes he hasn’t asked her name yet – giggles softly. “Please tell me the name of the woman I am to thank for a place to rest.” 

There’s a moment of silence before he senses her kneeling next to him, the click of something being set in front of him. “I am simply the Mother, that’s what the children call me, at least.” He can hear the smile in her voice. Before Gyomei can comment on anything the rush of children takes away his breath. They are loudly talking about him. 

Woah! He’s so big! He’s like a mountain~ Can we keep him? I want to climb on him! Oh please, please, pleaaaassssseeeeeeeeeeeeee? Does he want this rock? Hey! That’s the rock I was going to eat!

“Excuse me Yeji, there will be no eating rocks,” Mother chastizes. The little one she was referring to groans dramatically. The woman next to you huffs before setting a hand on Gyomei’s arm again. He could get used to her calming touch. It was like how meditation made him feel. “I want you all to introduce yourself to Mister Gyomei, the stone hashira.” From what Gyomei can deduce, there are about 5 children in the room. 

“I’m Yeji! What’s a hashira?” A beat before the small girl gasps excitedly, “Do you eat rocks too?!” She exclaims. Gyomei chuckles – Yeji was his favorite, a strong girl in her own accord, especially if those rocks were in her system. 

“I’m Teke.” A little boy, he seems timid so Gyomei bows his head as a show of respect, hoping that Teke will see he means no harm. 

“My name is Pin and this is my little brother Rin.” A young girl bashfully introduces herself along with her younger brother who grunts in response. These children were cared for, tended with honesty, and safe. 

“I’m Ume… I got you this rock.” Tiny hands find their way to Gyomei and he allows her to set a miniscule pebble in his large palm. 

Gyomei bows his head to all of the children. It had been a while since he felt such…an overwhelming sense of righting the wrongs his past held. “Thank you Ume, I shall treasure this for as long as I live.” She squeals with happiness. 

“My Lord– er, Gyomei, do you need assistance with eating? I’ve brought some grilled meat and cold noodles. If you would like something else I’m sure one of the vendors will be happy enough to provide us with a meal worthy of your-” 

“Mama, he can just eat the rock.” Yeji – who you can imagine rolling her eyes like it was the most obvious choice – says. Mother quiets before a snort of laughter rings through Gyomei’s ears. She’s laughing so hard that her breath comes out in quick pants. 

It takes her a few minutes to calm down, the children giggling along with her in a harmonious melody. “I think Mister Gyomei should decide if he is the one to eat a rock or not.” She removes her hands from Gyomei’s arm, his warmth already missing hers. “But your mother worked so hard to prepare this meal.” Her timbre shifts to that of a whining child. The children hum in acknowledgment. 

“Mama does work very hard to fill our tummies…” Teke mutters quietly. 

“Teke is right! Let mister G…Gy…Gyoma eat Mama’s food!” Yeji yells. Gyomei fills with delight. These children, this atmosphere, it was almost too much. 

With the help of Mother, Gyomei enjoys a delicious meal – a few tears are shed because of the pure deliciousness present on his tastebuds. He could’ve fed himself but in all honesty, he preferred the way Mother fed him. “Now it’s off to bed with you heathens.” She laughs. 

The children rush to set up their mats, unfolding one for Gyomei. The cool air of night fills the room. “Mister Stone Man, ask Mama for a bedtime story, that way she can’t say no.” Pin is talking to him and he hears a scoff from his other side. 

“Pin, I would’ve told you a tale regardless.” Mother hums. As the night settles in Gyomei can feel himself grow restless. The tale was about the Demon Corps and Gyomei felt his duty weighing on him more now than ever. He was strong enough to handle it now, that’s what he kept telling himself. 

Mother was humming a lullaby with children surrounding her. He could see – well envision – himself falling into slumber, but his ears perk up at the sound of a twig snapping. Animals inhabit the surrounding woods, but this snap wasn’t on purpose. Something had tripped, the vibrations echoing malicious intent. He stills, one hand on his rosary. 

He turns to the last place he felt Mother, the look – if he could have one – must have conveyed to quiet down. He can hear her wake the children who had fallen asleep. She whispers to them calm instructions, her voice never breaking an inch in fear or distress. “Go to the corner. Cover the children.” Gyomei whispers. The creaking tatami signals she had done as instructed. Gyomei was strong this time. People listened when he told them to get behind him. He would protect them. Whatever the cost. His life mattered not if he did not give it to those he protected. Whatever was outside had to be a demon, Gyomei could smell the blood dripping from its mouth. The searing smell of flesh demons usually carried. It was disgusting.

It was approaching the house. Gyomei could act on his impulse and carry out the slaying, but through a calm reproach, he would stick to the group of people he was to protect. If he left their side that left them open to an attack. The house was far enough away from the rest of the village that he wasn’t worried about anyone else coming into harm's way. “Mama, what’s going on?” Yeji asks, her voice barely above a whisper. Gyomei’s muscles tense. 

It heard.

The figure appears, he can tell. “Well well well, fine dining just for me?” It sneers grotesquely. “A meaty steak and,” its voice pauses. “And some string beans to go along with it.” Gyomei can practically see the sickly smile that creeps up the evil one’s face. 

“Namu Amida Butsu. Namu Amida Butsu. Namu Amida Butsu.” Gyomei feels the sinking disgust take over his body as tears flood down his face. 

“Why is this one talking?” The demon questions before striking out with it’s claws. Gyomei continues his chant, gliding backwards to the group of children. Without breaking his chant the chain of his axe and flail extend outward. The nichirin metal surrounds the demon, grunts of struggle echoing in Gyomei’s ears. 

This foe will not live. It will not take another life. The edge of Gyomei’s axe cuts the skin of the demon. It hisses in agony, squirming to be free from the chain wrapped around its body. Gyomei was blessed to have gone through rigorous training, hours of meditation, and being able to feel his other Hashira at work. This demon was not strong enough to defeat the pure strength Gyomei possessed. He could save these children. He would save these children. 

The axe handle snaps back with a tug, slicing through the demon’s throat, but not all the way. “W-who are you?” It gurgles out. 

“May you find peace.” Gyomei prays. “Amen.” Before a small pull severs the head of the demon. He’s panting, worn out from the short battle. His head spins with thoughts and prayers for the damaged creature born of hate. He decides maybe he’d like for Mother to sing him a lullaby, to ease him into slumber. The sobs of the children finally hit Gyomei when they surround his legs, hugging him. 

“You were so cool!” Teke cries out, probably both scared and impressed. 

“Thank you Mister Gyoma!” Yeji sobs, wiping her tear struck face on Gyomei’s pants. 

“Gyomei,” He looks up, wracked with emotions unnameable. “You saved us, thank you. I am eternally grateful.” 

Eternal. Yes, that’s how long Gyomei would fight for the innocent.  

[codenamesazanka]

What do you fear the most that mhas epilogue will do and make sure to list your other fears too

Oh god.

I think my biggest fear is Deku going to visit Spinner, and Spinner will validate his ignorant, arrogant, unheroic ass. Whether it's 'Thank you for trying to save Shigaraki' or 'Sorry Tenko stayed being Shigaraki for me and the League instead of giving in to you' or 'Wow, you really are the true hero Stain saw' or 'I see that Shigaraki has entrusted his will on you, so I will cheer you on from now on'.

Of course, a Spinner who validates Deku and essentially surrenders to the Heroes' way of doing things is only a symptom of a much bigger problem that is "Silly League of Villains, Heroes were right all along, save for some tiny mistakes, and now it's time to repent and assimilate" - an overall epilogue where nothing actually changes except some people learn to feel pity and vows to be nicer. So I guess that's my true, core fear. But it's manifesting in Spinner turning into a Deku groupie. Yeah, why not befriend the guy who killed your actual friend and believe in his way of doing things that got your friend killed.

-

Another Spinner fear I have is actually Spinner becoming a 'true' spokesman for the Heteromorphs - less because he doesn't deserve it, more because it's likely that it means his 'stance' has gone to Shouji level and he's telling everyone to not be like him and instead work harder to brave being sprayed by pesticides and endure bullying. So, fear of Spinner being tokenized (again) and becoming a Shoji-like kind of Heteromorph advocate.

Like, I've always thought Spinner's 'fix' was that he should be allowed to be entirely mediocre and be treated right. Put another way, he's not obligated to be exceptional in order to deserve basic decency/proper treatment. Even the worst, most selfish, resentful, weak-quirk, intelligence D, League of Legends gamer loser you know shouldn't be subjected to fantasy racism, because no one should. If he's an advocate, he's an advocate for the losers of the heteromorphs - the weaklings, the delinquents, the criminals? But that's not a very inspiring message! Instead, Heteromorphs should shine bright - and that's the message the manga and Shouji is giving.

Also like, there's no way the new powers that be will let him near a microphone without being declawed - last time he did so, he literally started a riot. There's no way they let him talk about his true feelings - that he was empty; that with the hundreds of Heroes on TV, none gave him hope for change; that it took a most outcasts-of-outcasts Villain team for him to ever feel accepted.

Spinner being an 'advocate' I think would be more him being a cautionary tale - "don't be like me, I'm a Villain and I'm stuck in Tartarus 2.0 for life; you can fight for your rights but not like I did!" He deserves better than that. Heteromorphs deserve better than that.

My other fears

Shigaraki stays dead

Shigaraki comes back but as five-year-old Tenko, so that Heroes can 'raise him properly' to be a Hero

We learn Toga died

We learn Dabi died but Endeavor lived

We never see the MLA ever again

We don't get more Compress backstory

Moonfish gets executed

Gran Torino doesn't die

Hawks being relevant

Hawks still facing no satisfying consequences for killing Twice

Twice being remembered by no one except his killer who's still vaguely mournful about his death but it was for the greater good, he really did think Bubaigawara was a decent guy

HPSC revived

No mention of anything being done about the HATE CRIMES AGAINST CHILDREN in the countryside. Shoji's 'let's shine bright' was it.

Quirk Counseling not completely revised

Aizawa and Mic still basically cursing out Shigaraki for stealing Shirakumo from them and not realizing Kurogiri/Shirakumo genuinely cared about the kid

No one bringing up how fucked up Iron Maidens and Tartarus is.

Tartarus 2.0 is back and everything is exactly the same but the wardens are nicer because they went through sensitivity training

That ending where the manga fast toward 12 years and everyone is in extremely heterosexual marriages with children. Part of this means teenaged Kouta and Eri are hinted to be crushing on each other or something. god.

[ofekma]

On one hand I love Percy Jackson to bits and I dearly missed his narration.

On the other hand it feels like a lot of things in this book feel wrong *partly* due to to his narration.

Of course that Percy isn't stupid. But he THINKS he is. He thinks so lowly of himself it's actually painful and makes me want to shake him.

And he makes Annabeth looks like this perfect flawless person even when casually mentioning "oh yeah she's prideful but like. Isn't that kind of an advantage sometimes too??" because he's head over heels in love with her and has been through things no one deserves to go through with her.

There is no excuse for Grover acting the way he did tbh, but at least the reveal that he was so scared his friends will leave that might have driven him to act so irrationally managed to salvage a tiny bit his characterization. It's better than just "oh you see he just couldn't help himself because it was strawberry!".

But Percy not being able to word his anger towards him or even letting himself feel it fully? Percy blaming himself for "leaving him alone in Hecate's house" and for "not realizing how he and Annabeth's moving away would affect him" was so... Unhealthy.

And kind of infantilizing for Grover. Grover is (or should be at least) old and responsible enough to not drink something he's not allowed to, and to look after a house with two pets for a couple of hours as his friends are at school. Grover is (or should be) old and responsible enough to be able to communicate his feelings to his friends about them moving away. Percy described it as some point like he felt like they were kids again and Percy had to protect him from bullying. Like despite everything he still sees Grover as a kid who needs to be protected and not as someone who can be experienced to handle himself.

Overall I love the new books, they're as low stakes, slice of life as it can get without leaving behind the fantastical adventure element completely. It's a nice change of phase for those characters, a way to catch up with them and how they're doing without making them go through hell yet again.

I'll admit that it's been a few years since I've last read (the original) Percy Jackson. Maybe had I read it all again and compare the books I'll find even more flaws with the characterization or ideas. But as of now, I like it. It's nice. It's not any masterpiece but it's also not mindless.

Percy kept his core aspects of sarcastic humor, brilliant improvising skills at the moment of truth, undying love for his friends and pure, unfiltered empathy to everyone around him. Percy picks the difficult, scary but honorable option every single time. Percy is unbelievably brave but he feels so lost and confused over how to solve seemingly impossible problems.

I'm not sure entirely what are my thoughts about Annabeth's characterization. I do wish that the books would address everyone's trauma and get them treated tho. Otherwise it feels more like repression.

The book does have an excessive mention of peeing and farting. Tho it's not the first time a character is described like this (like Thor from the Magnus Chase series). The cuteness of. Nope just might make up for it.

It's hard to be an author, especially one with a large fanbase. People are ready to tear you apart for every mistake. And Rick Riorden does make many mistakes.

I feel like Rick Riorden might be more lenient in those new books than he was about his originals but less in an "I don't care anymore those suckers will read everything I'll write so I can write trash" and more of an "I like those characters, I want to have some fun with them and I think that my fans would want this too so I'm not as worried about those books succeeding as I was back then when I was a new author." Which... Yeah, does unfortunately show in quality but I don't want to be cynical about this man.

I don't think he should have let the frenchise die as long as he still feels like he has stories to tell in it (tho he can bother to polish them some more) and I don't think he doesn't care about his fans or work or characters or kids in general.

Some creators start off good but lose their touch or reasons for creating in the first place. Some creators weren't that good but became popular anyway. Some creators were put on a pedestal and when they couldn't meet their fan's impossible standards they got shunned. Some creators. Some creators aren't good people but their fans didn't know that because all they knew about them was their work which spoke to them.

But like, I want to believe that some creators are just good, if imperfect, people. Good if imperfect creators. And that Rick Riorden is one of them. That he's trying his best at least most of the time, that he's working on his shortcomings, that he's listening but knows that you realistically can't make everyone happy all the time and sometimes you just gotta go with your guts and do what makes YOU happy.

I want to believe in people. And in him specifically, even if it's because I'm biased.

[svtskneecaps]

listen in the grand scheme of things i'm glad i let myself get back into minecraft content for this. like i haven't touched a minecraft series since like 2014, on purpose, but i saw clips of qsmp in march 2023 and thought, screw it. maybe it's time. and i don't regret it yknow? i saw multilingual server and thought 'that looks AWESOME' and it certainly didn't disappoint. my only regret is that everything went crazy and people logged off RIGHT when everyone finally started relying on the live translations more, which was something i've been dreaming of for months lmfao. all in all, just happy to be here. this stuff gave me new reasons to use my blog.

hell if this is actually an end or even just a pause maybe i can FINALLY write my FUCKING TIME LOOP FIC JESUS FUCKING I'VE BEEN COOKING THAT STUPID FUCKING THING SINCE LIKE MAY LIKE I WAS ON THE FUCKING FIELD AT MY COLLEGE GRADUATION CEREMONY WAITING TO WALK THE STAGE AND GET MY DIPLOMA AND I WAS WRITING THE FIRST STUPID CHAPTER OF IT LIKE GENUINELY BUT I PUT IT ON HOLD BC THINGS KEPT HAPPENING AND I WAS LIKE I SHOULD UNDERSTAND THE BIG PICTURE SO I CAN ACTUALLY PLAY WITH IT PROPERLY BC THE MOST FUN I HAVE WITH TIME LOOP AUS COMES FROM KNOWING EVERYTHING AND MESSING WITH HOW SIMPLE ACTIONS CAN ALTER THE PROGRESSION OF EVENTS AND CHANGE CHARACTER CHOICES LOGICALLY BC THAT STUFF'S COOL BUT I DIDN'T KNOW LIKE THE MYSTERY OF THE FEDERATION OR WHATEVER AND I WANTED TO SEE WHERE THAT WAS GOING SO I COULD SEE WHETHER I WANTED TO TOSS IT OR ALTER IT OR KEEP IT AND SEE NOW I'LL KNOW YKNOW AND NOW I CAN JUSTIFY SHIT LIKE "OH HEY PURGATORY'S HAPPENING IN JUNE THIS TIME BC I WANT THE BREAKFAST TRIO TO EXIST FASTER AND FUCK YOU" WITHOUT IT FEELING TOO WEIRD AND ALSO STUFF LIKE CODE LORE AND ALL THIS OTHER NONSENSE LIKE DAMN WOULD BE PRETTY COOL I MEAN ONE SINGLE FUCKING INTERACTION BETWEEN SLIME AND MARIANA COULD SEND ME CAREENING DOWN A PATH PREVIOUSLY THOUGHT UNIMAGINABLE I COULD MAKE THIS FIC THAT'S BEEN SIMMERING SINCE LAST MAY A REALITY I COULD DO IT THIS COULD FIX ME. THIS COULD FIX ME

but yeah i'm glad i allowed myself to get invested in this server. i think y'all are cool, and i think the admins did amazing with everything they were given even though they shouldn't have been given it the way they were, and the ccs were cool and i'm glad everything happened yknow. maybe things will keep happening and maybe not but yknow what. i became All Powerful. i started watching as someone who knew english and some french and now i am someone who knows english (100%), slightly more french (like 70%), a workable understanding of spanish (like 40%) and a slightly less workable understanding of portuguese (like 20%) they added german to nerf me specifically. they knew i was getting too powerful. yeah, i spent some time as a kpoppie, i have a tiny miniscule understanding of korean (5%) german i have 0 experience with they added german to nerf me and then this happened to nerf me further. make no mistake they cannot stop me. i will become all powerful.

like cmon. if it ends here it was never all bad. i don't even have to use google translate to understand roier shittalking in the chat. i can just read it. i couldn't do that before :D and i can make my chilean friend keysmash bc she's not used to me knowing any spanish at all

we've grown strong over the year, haven't we? i hope we will continue to, no matter what :D

[heliads]

Crows

Everyone has a symbol on their palm that somehow relates to your soulmate. You have a crow, which led to you joining the Dregs in Ketterdam. Every Dreg has a soulmate symbol that in no way relates to you- except Kaz Brekker, as no one has seen his palm at all.

masterlist

You stare at the crow inked into your palm. It stares back at you.

You hesitate for a second longer, then snap your hand shut, letting the unblinking eyes of the black bird disappear back behind your fingers. This is the price of a soulmate, of wandering too far from your home and never finding the one person you were meant to belong to. This is the price of being a canal rat, a Grisha, of being anybody still foolish enough to believe in a soulmate in the midst of all this darkness.

Soulmates may technically be real, but people only believe in them as much as they do Inej’s Saints, or anybody else’s long-held dreams. Between the wars and Shadow Folds springing up across the world, it’s getting pretty hard for anyone to find their soulmate at all. It’s supposed to be simple- one mark on each person’s palm to designate their soulmate, a mark that will disappear at the first touch of their hand on yours. Sometimes, you wonder what mark would be on your soulmate’s skin: a flame or sparking coal, maybe, for your branch of the Small Science, or a skull, for all the death that seems to shadow your path.

The crow has been on your palm for as long as you can remember, as long as anyone has ever had a soulmate. It was there when you were born, but judging by your trend in luck, it’ll probably be there until the day you die. Soulmates aren’t for girls like you, girls who flee their homes to trade a life amongst the Grisha for a death in the gray-streaked streets of Ketterdam.

You were born an Inferni, that much is true. You witnessed the Ravkan civil war, and you were there to flee it for safer tides. You weren’t sure what cruel twist of fate landed you in Ketterdam, one of the worst places for a Grisha, but you were at least able to keep your identity a secret. You’d seen what happened to the luckless Grisha trapped inside neverending indentures, and you know what tortures would await you if word of your firestarting habit got out. So, you never spoke a word, and pretended you were just another otkazat’sya traveler in need of safe harbors.

You hadn’t been wandering the canals long before your path turned into the Barrel. It wasn’t an intentional choice, just an eventual fate that you would end up in the worst part of the twisting sidestreets. There was no escaping the Barrel, not unless you were a wealthy mercher or some other lucky sap who the Saints blessed with the ability to avoid getting dragged down into the muck like everyone else. You learned the names and locations of all the gangs like everyone else: Black Tips, Dime Lions, and most notably, the Dregs.

Your breath had caught in your chest when you heard of them. They frequented the Crow Club, some were called the crows themselves, their leader had a crow on his cane. Everything seemed to point in a glaringly obvious arrow towards your soulmate mark: a crow for a crow. Where else could you have ended up?

You knew better now. You had met Kaz Brekker, the boy with the crow cane, and you knew that any chance of finding a soulmate among his crew was near impossible. You had been walking home after dark one night when you found yourself set upon by a duo of thugs. Not Dregs, possibly Dime Lions with a bone to pick, angry that the Dregs had such control over the pigeons of Fifth Harbor. They had been expecting an easy mark, somebody they could thunk over the head with a pair of brass knuckles and walk away without a scratch. They weren’t expecting you to beat them into the dust in a matter of seconds.

No matter your status or location, you were still a Grisha, and you’d been trained by Botkin long enough to be able to defend yourself. When the goons were finally laid at your feet, unconscious, you had allowed yourself a moment to smile. It was easy to feel low, a gutter rat in the canals of Ketterdam, but being able to use your fists again almost reminded you of the training halls at the Little Palace.

Enjoying this one brief memory, though, was a slip that you shouldn’t have made. When you looked up, you weren’t alone- a boy stood before you, gloved hands clasped over a crow’s head cane. You didn’t particularly know who he was, or make the connection between him and the Dregs, and moved to get out of the alleyway before he decided to make the same mistake as the thugs. He had slid his cane in front of you, fast as lightning, stopping you in your place. “I think we should speak about your future in Ketterdam.”

You were annoyed at this sudden interruption. “I think you should leave me alone.” You had retorted, using your hand to move his cane back in front of him. You had also been irritated, both by the fight and this boy’s brashness, and slipped your hand into his pocket for just a second to retrieve a newly shined pocketwatch. No one could have possibly seen it, this tiny movement, and the boy certainly didn’t, as he let you pass without another word.

You were still grumbling when you got back to the ramshackle building you called an apartment complex, and your landlady had raised an eyebrow when she saw you. “What, have you finally realized that it was a fool’s errand to come here?” She asked, and you shook your head. “No, just bothered by some guy with a crow’s head cane. Weird prop to carry around.” The woman had blanched, face suddenly seeming to age a decade in a second.

She had bustled over to you, voice low as if terrified that the boy might be able to hear her. “That’s Kaz Brekker, you fool. He runs the Dregs. Saints, he might even run this city.” She had hurried away from you then, forcing herself back to her work. Even then, you had known she was wrong. There was nothing the Saints could know about Kaz Brekker, nothing they could even hope to involve themselves in.

You had shaken the experience away, climbing up the stairs to your apartment. When you pushed open the door, however, you saw that you were not alone. The boy from earlier was back, this time leaning against the far wall. He gestured for you to close the door, which you did, albeit hesitantly. You had no idea how he got in- you had changed the locks when you first arrived at the apartment all those weeks ago, barred the windows, made it impossible for anyone except you to make their way inside. Yet here he stood, with knowledge of both where you lived and how to get there before you. It was impossible. Well, impossible for anyone except Kaz. The Barrel was his home, after all, and you doubt Dirtyhands had ever bothered to knock.

His fingers tapped the crow’s head of his cane. “I don’t think we quite finished our conversation. You could do more than just wash dishes, you know. The Dregs could always use a new member. That, and I’d like you to return what you stole from me. I’m impressed, actually. No one is that good at pickpocketing except me, and no one would try something that daring except for, well, me. I think you’d fit in nicely with my gang.”

You had folded your arms across your chest. “And I’m meant to believe that my pickpocketing was impressive enough to warrant a visit from Dirtyhands himself?” Kaz had shrugged, the movement stiff in the darkness. “You can believe whatever you want. I just want to see if you’ll take a good offer when you see one.” After a while, you had accepted, and Kaz had left, but not before whispering something in your ear. “If you steal from me again, I will cut off both of your hands. I don’t tolerate theft, not from me.”

You had heard enough threats to know that he meant good on this one. As it turned out, however, Kaz would not have to fear theft from you again. You found a home amongst the Dregs, a home you weren’t likely to give up due to the thrill of pickpocketing Kaz Brekker. You had a room at the Slat, a place at the table, a voice in the masses. It was something you weren’t willing to trade away.

Even amongst the many crows of Kaz Brekker’s gang, however, you still couldn’t let the issue of your soulmate go. You can remember one night, late into the night’s bells when you, Inej, Jesper, Matthias, and Nina had all made the journey up to Kaz’s office, slumped against chairs and floorboards and chatting the night away. Kaz was sitting at his desk, apparently doing paperwork, but you did notice that he kept coincidentally chiming into conversations even when he said he wasn’t paying attention.

At some point, Nina steered the conversation to soulmates. She held up her now blank palm, proclaiming that at some point it had held a wolf’s head. She had been terrified, she said, terrified that she would have a drüskelle or some other weirdo for a soulmate. Matthias had acted affronted at that, but if he was feeling particularly charitable he might relent and tell the gathered Crows about how he’d had a heart on his hand, and how frustrated he’d been when it had disappeared the second he’d locked Nina away on that slaver’s ship.

Nina had turned to Kaz then, intent on poking the bear and having some sort of fun that night. “So, Brekker, what’s your soulmate mark? Or do you not do that sort of zealot human thing we call soulmates?” Kaz had raised his eyebrows, looking distinctly bored. Of everyone in the room, you’re pretty sure that only you and Inej would be able to tell that he was holding back a smile.

“I’m not entirely a monster, Zenik. I do have a soulmate.” Nina had leaned forward, intent on clarification. “Then what’s the mark? We can’t just take a gander at your palm, remember? They’re hidden by your gloves.” Kaz had let his papers fall back to the desk with a thunk, turning to her with an expression laced with both exasperation and studied disinterest. “It’s a fire. A small flame. Happy?”

Nina had looked fascinated. “Beatific. I wonder what that means. An Inferni, maybe?” She wiggled her eyebrows at Kaz. “Maybe it’s supposed to show that they’re devilishly attractive. Really hot, get it?” Kaz had made a sound that was either a dry cough or his best attempt at a laugh. “Hilarious, Nina. I see why you’re a Heartrender- you could make a person want to die based on your jokes alone.”

Nina had acted affronted, making sure everybody knew that her jokes were hilarious, thank you very much, but you couldn’t help but think about the repercussions of this. What if Nina’s first guess was right, and Kaz’s soulmate was an Inferni, like you? If your tattoo was of a crow, and Kaz’s was of flames, then surely it was too much to just be a coincidence. You’d never know, anyway, because soulmate marks only disappeared on flesh to flesh contact. Kaz always wore gloves, so you’d never find out the truth. Besides, you remind yourself, the chances of this were superbly unlikely. A crow could mean anything, so could a flame. You need to stop getting your hopes up.

Despite the possibilities and impossibilities, you’ve still been running with the canal rats long enough to know that you can’t dwell forever on what might have been. You’re a Dreg now and you need to focus on that instead. When Kaz announces an upcoming settlement with the Razorgulls, yet another one of the gangs that roam the streets of Ketterdam, you’re eager for a chance at something entertaining after a long while of nothing. Kaz will meet with the leader to negotiate their way through a claim on the various pigeons coming and going from the harbors, and that will be that.

However, this is the Barrel. Negotiations are rarely easy. This is why, when Jesper arrives as Kaz’s second, he’s shunted aside to a separate room to stay out the duration of the meeting. Kaz and the leader of the Razorgulls are on the opposite side of the street in an empty courtyard, far away from any help should they need it. Kaz was prepared for this, as always, and set up a plan. Inej will shadow Jesper, making sure that he’ll have a way out if he needs it, and you’ll be shadowing Kaz himself. You’re not sure why Kaz chose you instead of his faithful Wraith, only that he rarely makes decisions based on nothing and you would do best to follow his judgement. The times he’s let you down are few and far between.

You and Inej split up, staying amongst the rooftops to avoid detection. She follows Jesper and the Razorgulls’ second into a crowded tavern, and you head towards the abandoned courtyard. Ahead of you, Kaz’s cane taps against the crooked cobblestones as he wends through desiccated hedges and marble statues severely lashed by time. The Razorgulls’ leader is waiting for him there, but you can’t follow now. Instead, you stick to the edges, climbing stairs and making your way into the empty buildings that watch over the courtyard like silent sentries.

You’re not sure what trouble you’ll be walking into, only that it will exist in some crooked form. There’s no logical reason the Razorgulls would want the seconds in another building unless they were planning something, and no reason Kaz would agree to this at all if he wasn’t sure you could have his back when he needed it. As you creep along the buildings, keeping a careful eye on the proceedings through the few broken windows, you notice that the two gang leaders have begun to speak. You can’t quite hear what they’re saying, only a few whispers here and there.

You’re just rounding a corner, ready to make your way into a neighbouring building, when the lights flash off, landing you in darkness. Instantly, you panic. Lighting is scarce here, only the moonbeams and a couple of oil lamps, but there’s no reason they should have shut down this quickly. You hear footsteps on the stairs, along with two pairs of voices: Razorgulls, discussing how important it is to stick to the shadows so Brekker can’t see them.

Your heartbeat thuds in the dark as you realize they haven’t spotted you yet. In fact, they have no idea you’re there at all. When Kaz was giving directions for the negotiations, he specifically told you to make sure that you weren’t seen, even if rival gang members showed up. If you want to go along with his plan and make sure he lives to see the end of this shoddy deal, you’ll have to stay in hiding.

This, however, is easier said than done. If the lights were on, you would be able to see the wooden beams of the floor and tell which ones would creak and which wouldn’t, which large shapes of furniture to avoid and which holes in the floorboards you should step over. A chill washes over you as you realize what you’ll have to do. You move your fingers together, quick as scraping flint against steel, and a small flame materializes at the pad of your index finger. It’s small, barely visible to anyone except you, but it’s enough to help you get out of the room before the Razorgulls notice you.

Even as the thrill of using your Grisha power after so long sends a charge of energy through your veins, you can’t help but feel uneasy. The only reason you’ve been able to survive in the Barrel and avoid unwholesome indentures is because you never used your power, not once. Even if it was necessary, this still feels bad.

You’ve found a new hiding place in the corner of the room and move to extinguish your flame now that it’s no longer useful. However, it’s been too long since you last used your powers as an Inferni, and your concentration wavers. The flame grows brighter and you start to panic, eventually clamping down your mind and forcing the fire to disappear.

The disappearance comes too late. The Razorgulls have seen some light in the shadow that wasn’t supposed to be there and are now edging your way, careful not to let you out of their sight. You have no choice but to take them down, standing over their unconscious bodies and feeling a wave of nerves crest over you. Kaz specifically said not to mess with the gangs, but you had no choice. You can only hope that this won’t ruin his plan too much.

Quietly, you step through the room and unlock a window, letting the panes move open in the wind. Now, you can hear the voices echoing up from the courtyard, and your heart sinks as you realize that things aren’t going well. The leader of the Razorgulls has revealed his ace in the hole, that he’s got guns trained on Kaz right now. Kaz just laughs, the sound as cold as rocks scraping against a ship’s hull, ready to damn a hundred men to the depths of the ocean.

“Do you, though? Who are the men you sent up- Dirk Struik and Niels ter Avest? Your coffers may be deep, but mine are more extensive. Gentlemen, take down this man, if you please.” Your stomach twists as you realize Kaz was counting on the men you just knocked out. Without them, he’s alone with a man pointing a gun at his skull. There’s no way around this- you’re going to have to break your most cherished rule again.

You thrust your palms out in front of you, letting tendrils of flame arc out of your hands and cascade onto the leader of the Razorgulls. He twists in agony, burns appearing on his skin. He only suffers for a moment or two, however, until he becomes unconscious due to the pain. Kaz’s head jerks up, staring at you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Kaz Brekker truly surprised, but he most certainly was not expecting this.

You don’t think there’s anything you can do except try to explain yourself. You jump down from the open window, letting your heels land lightly on the stones of the courtyard. Kaz seems frozen in place for a second, then moves forward until you’re standing only a few feet apart. Your breath comes wild in your chest. Kaz speaks after the longest of moments. “Where were the guards?”

You hold up your hands uselessly. “They saw me. I had to take them out.” Kaz’s eyes dart to your palms, faster than a sharpshooter pulling the trigger. He takes in the smoke still curling around your fingers, then the crow mark in the middle of your hand. When he speaks again, his voice has lost its icy edge. He just sounds like a boy again, young and confused.

“You never told me you were an Inferni.” You sigh. “It was a secret I needed to keep. You know what happens in the Barrel, the indentures and the tortures. If I used my powers, I would have died a long time ago.” Kaz jerks his head in a harsh nod. “I don’t blame you for surviving. We have all committed worse crimes to live” Your voice gains a confidence it didn’t have before. “Then what do you blame me for? You’re upset, anyone could tell that. If it’s not with me keeping my Grisha abilities a secret, then what is it?”

Kaz hesitates, as if pulling himself back from a yawning chasm. “Me.” You stare at him, at the indecision wracking his brow, then at the way he’s pulling at the glove at his palm. His hands almost seem to shake, like he’s still not sure that he’s doing the right thing. He pulls the glove off, inch by inch, seeming to dread every second that his hands aren’t covered by the black leather. At last, you see it- the mark on his palm, the flame sparking into being right there on his hand.

He reaches out tentatively. “I need to know.” He manages, and at last you understand. You move your own hand slowly, stopping when it’s only a few inches away from his. Kaz squares his shoulders, as if preparing to jump from another broken building, then closes the distance and lets his hand rest lightly on yours. As you watch, your soulmate tattoos shimmer for a second and then vanish, erasing from your skin as if they’d never been there at all.

Kaz lets his gaze linger on the empty skin of your palm, and then he seems to come back into himself, snatching his hand away like he’s flinching from a blow. You can see it in his eyes that he regrets this, that he can’t keep his hand there, but you understand. You can understand quite a lot from him.

Kaz’s voice is like the grating of metal. “I’m not somebody you want as a soulmate. It won’t be easy. It won’t be good.” You laugh quietly in the night. “If I wanted something easy, I would have never come to Ketterdam.” Kaz nods at this, something almost like relief in his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.” You manage. Something almost like a smile flits across Kaz’s face. “Good. We have much to discuss.”

[bldofthedrgn]

[eleven] in every cosmos | han jisung smau

11 - grafias

words : 1.7k

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a/n : omg a double upload from user babysungs :o my brain was going crazy about writing this part and i coukdnt help myself!! bit of a longer written chapter but i think its worth it :) i didnt edit it too much so i hope there arent many mistakes!! enjoy :)

Opening the door to the restaurant you were expecting many more people than there were, only seeing two people, but you supposed that it was for the better. Big crowds werent really your thing anyway.

hey binnie!! im here waiting for you :)

No response.

I guess its to be expected, you were here about thirty minutes earlier than you were supposed to be. He was probably just leaving his apartment. Still, you couldnt help but be weary at the fact that he hadnt bothered to read your message.

Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes had gone by without a single message from changbin. Surely he should be here soon, unless he wasnt planning on coming at all. You were confused and a tiny bit hurt, failing miserably at not jumping to conclusions way too early. Were you being stood up? Could you even be stood up if this wasnt a date? Had he found out about your affection towards him and now wants to make a joke out of you? What exactly was going o-

Ding.

The door had opened. You looked up in anticipation, praying desperately to see Changbin walk through the clear glass door that you had been watching like a hawk for the longest thirty minutes of your life.

… Jisung? you thought to yourself

Great, first you get stood up then the one person who manages to make you feel like shit at every encounter shows up. Just fucking great.

“What are you doing here?” Jisung questions, putting an emphasis on the “you” as if you werent allowed to eat in public. “Waiting for your little boyfriend I assume.”

“What? What boyfriend?” You had never been more confused in your life. Since when did you have a boyfriend?

“Yeah. Your boyfriend. Changbin?”

You couldn’t help but become a bit flushed at the thought of Changbin bein considered your boyfriend, though it like would never happen.

“Jisung what the fuck are you talking about right now? Changbin is not my boyfriend” you shoot back starting to get annoyed.

“Oh dont act like you two arent together. I should have known since the first day I saw you guys on a date at that stupid cafe.” Jisung was also starting to get annoyed. How could you and Changbin keep denying your relationship when he had seen it for himself?

“Dude we had JUST met that day. We didnt even know each other”

“Yeah I call bullshit but sure.”

“Okay you know fucking what Jisung-“ you started, completely ready to rip the taller brunette to shreds at this point though you were interrupted.

“Alright calm down lets not overreact please.” That voice was all too familiar.

“Changbin??? What the fuck are you doing here I thought you were standing me up!” you were completely enraged at this point. Not only had Jisung riled you up but now Changbin was standing here acting as if he hadnt kept you waiting for what felt like hours?

“Y/n, I didnt stand you up I promise,” Changbin starts, “please just let me and seungmin explain before you chop my head off.”

“Seungmin what the fuck dude??” Jisung was equally as stunned and not-so-equally as enraged as you were.

“Ji just shut up and listen to Changbin please.”

Everyone got quiet allowing Changbin the floor to explain what kind of weird misunderstanding they were in now.

“You and Y/n have some weird beef with each other that you need to talk about. I think you both have some misconceptions about each other and you need to work them out now because constantly being in the middle of this is so tiring. I hate fighting with either of you to defend the other when both of you are my closest friends.”

Friends. Right. The word stings in your chest as you had almost forgotten what you were to Changbin. His friend, nothing more nothing less.

“Oh whatever you cant force me to talk to them.” Jisung spits, pulling you out of your own head.

“Trust me I dont want to be here more than you do.”

“See. That right there. It needs to stop” Changbin continues visibly aggravated, “youre both staying here until you can work out whatever weird fucking tension there is between you.”

Changbin and Seungmin walk towards the door leaving you and a very confused and peeved Jisung standing closer than you realize at first.

“We’re locking you in. Please try talk it out and try to get along” Changbin says as hes locking the door.

“Where did you even get the key???”

“I rented the place out for a day. Good luck!” He throws two thumbs up and walks away with Seungmin.

Great.

“Dickheads” Jisung mutters under his breath, “why do I have to be stuck here with you.”

Now you were seriously getting upset. It wasnt even anger, just pure sadness at the fact that one of your biggest idols, the man you looked up to and loved most out of any musician to walk the earth, hated you so much he regarded you amongst the trash of the earth. He held such disdain for you and you had no idea why.

“Jisung. Why do you hate me so much? What have I done?” you ask desperately trying not to let the tears slip

“Are you serious?” he scoffs, until he looks at you and sees the deadly serious expression on your exhausted face. “.. Fine. I hate you because not only did you completely ignore my existence when Changbin first brought you to the studio, you also stole him from us. He stopped hanging out with us to hang out with you all the time until I called him out for it. I get youre his partner but fucks sake he needs to make time for his best friends and music partners too.”

Jisung watched as your face went from serious to utterly confused when he started explaining. It mad him even more mad at you, how could you be such a terror in his life and act like you dont know anything about it?

“I think Changbin was right when he said there were big misunderstandings between us.” Jisung scoffed loudly at your start, not believing you for a second. “Jisung let me finish before you blow everything im about to say off. Please.”

You saw Jisungs expression change as he settled himself into the booth you were both sitting at. “Alright fine. Go ahead.”

“Thank you. For starters, I didnt ignore you. I said hi to you and tried to talk to you several times but you either just didnt answer or couldnt hear me. But I tried really hard to make conversation and get to know you, I would never in a million years pass up the chance to befriend my favorite musician in the world”

Jisung did not expect those words to come out of your mouth in a million years. He could feel his heartbeat pick up a bit, choosing to ignore it as if it werent happening. “And Im not dating Changbin. At all. We’re honestly just good friends and even if i were dating him, strong if, I would never take up all of his time especially when I know how important your friendship is and how busy you guys get. That is not the type of person I am at all and maybe you could never come to like me or be friends with me but please dont think of me so harshly. I really didnt mean to make you feel that way about me. Im sorry.”

He was dumbfounded. Truly blown away at the fact that he was so quick to judge you and hate you for something that was completely his fault, and that you were the one who felt bad and even apologized. Jisung realized what an asshole he had been to someone who did not deserve it in the slightest.

“Y/n I-“ you quickly cut him off, not prepared to be berated by him again.

“Please dont say anything I understand you dont like me but I cant take-“

“Let me finish.” Jisung had gently rested his hand on your forearm, which had been laying on the table. His hands were so soft and he was holding your arm so tenderly- wait. Why is your heart racing so fast? He noticed your flushed face and eyes that kept glancing at his hand on you and he couldnt help but smile to himself a bit.

You nodded your head, signaling to Jisung that he could continue.

“I was going to say Im sorry. I had no idea that I was the problem this whole time and treated you so badly for nothing. Truthfully I felt bad about being mean to you because I thought you actually could be nice but I was stubborn and felt like you deserved my hate. I am so sorry.”

“Oh … its okay. Thank you for apologizing.” Your voice had gone quiet, not expecting Jisung to be so warm and kind to you. You tried relentlessly to ignore the roaring butterflies in your stomach.

“Of course. So ..” the man started, smiling to himself a bit, “your favorite musician in the whole world huh?”

Shit. You didnt even realize you said that. You could feel his confidence dripping from that stupid smirk on his face.

“Pffft whaaaat who said that that wasnt me I dont even know you who are you again?”

“Yeah okay whatever at least I have something to brag to Changbin about when we leave here.” he laughs, “Friends?“

Jisung mentally curses himself for sticking his hand out when he feels the warmth from yours meet him in the middle, the motion only making his heart beat faster. He prayed desperately hoping you couldnt hear it thumping out of his chest.

“Friends.”

You both shake on it with smiles, both trying to ignore that fluttering feeling in your chests growing bigger the longer you held hands.

Though neither of you would never admit this, you both were overthinking the rest of your time together waiting for Changbin and Seungmin to get back with the keys. You kept on with your conversation, talking about any and everything to keep yourselves from dying of boredom and hunger, but neither of you knew that the other was having the same thoughts deep in the back of their minds.

Why does my heart keep racing when im next to you?

taglist | @gyuville @kikivonpoopyhead @sohyeappy @enaluvs @mits-vi @spikertrash @dynarvot

bold means i cant tag!! sorry :(

[minimerrymarvelous]

Can't Die Twice

What if the idea of "dead things can’t die twice" was applied to Shen Qingqiu?

(Spoilers for volumes 2 and 3) 

Shang Qinghua was basically reincarnated so he doesn’t fall under this, and since the PIDW/ SVSSS universe runs on spaghetti code and desperate "I-have-to-write-10K-a-day-to-keep-the-lights-on-I-forgot-if-I-killed-this-side-character-or-not" logic, people are allowed to come back to life a couple times. (Ex. The Holy Mausoleum, Sun and Moon Dew Flower) 

However, there’s a limit to that and well…Shen Qingqiu has long passed it.

Instead of having hundreds of Wife Halos™ condensed into a single Danmei Love Interest Halo™, as Shang Qinghua assumes, the reason Shen Qingqiu is an unkillable cockroach is because he has died so many times by the time post-canon rolls around that the universe no longer accepts it. The instant he dies the world simply duck taps his body back together, wipes him off, and then spits his soul right back into his newly not-deceased body.  

(Think: flip clocks) Metaphorically, I imagine that the universe’s [Shen Qingqiu status: Alive] flap doesn’t flip to [deceased] anymore because Shen Qingqiu has overworked the poor gear that does it. It's now, permanently, stuck on [Alive]. And nothing can change that.

So he lives, and lives, and lives.

At first, there’s nothing strange about that. He’s immortal and surrounded by overprotective Peak Lords with a devoted demon lord husband as the cherry on top, so of course he'd live. 

All the while things slip through the cracks. Moments of concern go unquestioned and fretful instances are waved off as a mistake—a trick of the light. Instances Shen Qingqiu really shouldn't have been able to walk away from. 

Even when people have doubts, Shen Qingqiu's propensity for surviving the unsurvivable is well-established and unparalleled, so it’s easy for people to put aside their worries. After all, there’s been an explanation in the past; there’s one now. Surely.

It's not like he is dying in obvious ways either. Not even Shen Qingqiu thinks too deeply on those moments when the world seems to shift on its axis, the tiny far too familiar nudge on his soul—It's nothing, he rationalizes. Nothing at all. 

Everyone lives Happily Ever After. 

But all good things must come to an end.

And the beginning of the end the beginning of despair starts with a lucky shot.

Shen Qingqiu gets hurt.

He gets hurt in a way that can’t be ignored. Not even by himself. It’s a blatant wound gushing blood that not even an immortal with heavenly demon blood on his side could possibly survive. Luo Binghe is far away, embroiled in a different battle, but he tries to save him, oh does he try, but it’s futile.

Shen Qingqiu closes his eyes for the last time.

He then pops them right back open and is miraculously back to full health. Wound not in sight…body in tip-top shape. Perfect fighting form.

Without any pain, he sits up and stares into the wide eyes of the one that inflicted his not-so-killing blow. Shen Qingqiu calls on Xiu Ya, taking care of the man. With that out of the way he notices that not only has his health been restored but his clothes are pristine. Under him the ground is only stained by his opponent’s blood, not his, like it should have been.

Before he can begin to panic, Luo Binghe arrives. Shen Qingqiu soothes him and makes up an excuse about the heat of battle leading Luo Binghe to be mistaken about his blood sending him signals of a life-threatening wound. He’s standing right here, perfectly fine, among a battle that’s just about finished. There’s nothing to worry about. Everything’s fine.

Shen Qingqiu only wishes he could believe that.

Nothing’s fine.

And he doesn’t think it ever will be again.

Because immortality is a misnomer. But this?

This feels a lot more permanent.

[leam1983]

Here's what I allow myself to use AI for, and what I don't...

What I Do:

Make a first pass at a new topic, aware that I'll need to fine-comb ChatGPT's output with actual research of my own. I don't need to be too focused on this, inaccuracies will surface on their own with the human-focused second and third passes. The actual use of the first pass is to provide me with a synthesis that makes it easier for me to unpack and assimilate, even if correction is required.

Test out speech patterns for new characters for D&D campaigns, fanfics or personal works of fiction. I've found that if a bot can maintain a character's "color" for a few screens' length, then I'm on to something.

Test out visual designs. Not being a visual person, I have a hard time synthesizing things like character appearances in descriptive text blocks. Starting with AI imagery of something I've prompted makes it easier to find design elements that work well enough for me.

Personal-use world-building. I've dabbled with Suno to generate theme songs or lead-in tracks for characters and situations, with lyrics of my own. Having always had trouble with metrics, I know I've got it right if the song feels like it fits the character, and if the song's lyrics fit the BPM and pacing. I then listen to some of these tracks while writing segments that correspond to specific moods or situations.

Prototyping designs at work. Professionally, I'm a Sysadmin for a small Automotive Marketing company. As we're tiny, everyone knows everyone else, and we're free to pitch in ideas with other departments. I've sometimes used Midjourney to use a client's hazy description for a Web page design and flesh it out into something more cogent I can append to any meeting notes with our actual Web Designers. The idea is Midjourney's render serves as a kind of loose first pass, and the Graphic Design guys can do whatever they want with it. Typically, the only things left of the AI render by the end of the process are some colour swatch suggestions.

Figure out code I didn't write. Our Call Manager was written by a different team that's long since disbanded, and they left us without archived copies of their work. Being under pressure at the time, I used ChatGPT to figure out the Call Manager's code faster than I would have if I'd given myself a good month to sit down and review it line by line. The bot made plenty of mistakes in its optimization suggestions, yes, but the idea was that getting it to bring code segments under scrutiny then helps human eyes focus on the right blocks faster. A month of monastic work turned into two intensive weeks, and we were set. All more intensive customization and optimization efforts were done by hand.

What I Don't Do:

Use AI renders directly: I don't want to take our Graphic Design team out of the equation, and I appreciate having artists to commission for private pieces. I treat AI as a stepping stone to human art, not as a showpiece that should be exhibited on its own.

Use AI as an excuse to not have to issue proper attributions. Even when I give a render to our Graphic Design guys, I list any artists referenced, along with examples of their actual works that can be freely found online. Going back to traceable references is always handy for designers, seeing as it drastically cuts down on research and experimentation. If I can focus on Creative Commons material, I gladly do do.

Ignore the environmental cost of AI. We're actually on the fast track to reaching temperature increases of more than 1.5 degrees Celcius per year for the first time in recorded history, and that is possibly the saddest record we could ever set. AI in its current form is non-sustainable. The same could be said of crypto. We absolutely need a better cooling solution for our hardware that won't rely on shunting their heat someplace else. If that means rethinking the way we approach CPU and GPU designs, I'm all for it.

I, most importantly, think we can't just ban the use of AI from any particular field. The genie's out of its lamp, so to speak, and even if several countries wrote historic laws that restrict or ban the use of generative tools, there's always someone else who's going to figure out how to recompile a dataset, re-train a model and illicitly offer generative services. The tech needs to be structured so it doesn't become the sole province of scammers, bad-faith actors or get-rich-quick schemers. That implies oversight - not elimination.

Okay. It's time for an AI rant.

My nephew is 13 years old. Whenever he writes a paper for school, I check it over and fix all of his mistakes for him. He said to me, "Maybe I'll proofread your paper for you in exchange," meaning one of the scholarly articles I write for work. I said, "Cool," and gave him the file. And he said, "Well, this is full of errors! See, you always say you have a lot to correct on my stuff, and look at all the stuff you got wrong!" And I said, surprised, "What? Where?" Because I'm sure there are typos in the draft I sent him, but not, like, that many.

And then he pointed to the screen and said, "Look at all the blue and red lines you have."

And I said, "Yeah, but those are wrong. Like, those are blue and red lines I'm ignoring because the computer is wrong." And then I paused and added, "You know you can't proofread a paper by just looking at the red and blue lines, right?" And he gave me the blankest look, because that clearly is EXACTLY what he thinks. And it became even clearer suddenly why, whenever I correct something on his paper, his immediate reaction is, "It didn't have a blue or red line."

There's a very good reason for that: THAT'S BECAUSE THE COMPUTER ISN'T SMART ENOUGH TO KNOW THAT IT WAS WRONG.

I am so tired of being sold the idea that computers are better than humans and so we should just outsource everything to them, which is clearly the lesson my nephew is absorbing in U.S. middle school. COMPUTERS ARE NOT BETTER THAN HUMANS. Like, maybe they are better at humans at crawling through rubble to find people trapped inside. They are also better at preserving things in a searchable format. Things like that. Very limited circumstances.

I don't want to sound alarmist but everything I hear about people using generative AI freaks me out. It's not just that I'm freaked out by people being like, "I use it to write novels!" (Although I don't see how they do, I have tried to have it write fiction for me and the output was truly terrible.) But I recognize my bias around creative writing and so no one needs to credit my views on artificial writing. But! Other things are alarming, too! "I use it to brainstorm x, y, or z." But...why? Why not just...use your own brain...to...brain...storm? The computer doesn't even have a brain to brainstorm with! And you might be like, "But it comes up with things that my brain would never think of!" So would other people! You could also brainstorm with other people! Or even through Google to see what other people have thought before you (not AI). Please don't belittle the wonder of thinking.

I just feel like the marketing around generative AI boils down to "Wouldn't it be easier not to use your own brain to think about things?" Everyone. No. It would not be. Please just trust me on this. I'm not just an old person who is out of touch with technology or something. I promise. USE YOUR BRAINS. IT WILL BE OKAY.

[prof-peach]

if fans wanted to include peach in stuff they write, would that be okay? and how would they write peach's personality? aside from "FIGHT ME" anyway, i think that much is a given lol. i only really write the anime characters 'cause that's what i know, but it sounds like it'd be kinda fun to try making a version of ash that fits into this blog's universe! nerf'd Obviously, but i think she'd probably appreciate how hands-on he gets when training his pokemon!

Ok, I get a lot of these messages, and I often hear folks wanting to throw peach into their stories and comics and writings, and I will always simply ask that if it’s published online publicly, to be linked to it so I can snoop and enjoy the content too. If someone asks about her in your work, let them know about the blog I guess? But literally I love that people take this stuff, these characters and stories, and make new stuff with it. No ones making money off my work here? So where’s the issue? Go for it buddy, knock yourself out, I’m all for it.

For you, and all the others out there who want to add peach, and other characters to your world building, I will give you a detailed rundown of the main lot, and how they behave, what they do, how they function. You can use that, use bits, or use none of it, I do not mind at all. If you’re creating something, you’re in control, not me.

So, peach doesn’t actually fight people as much as you’d think. She’s very aware most cannot and do not want to do that, and so she likes to keep to herself with regards to that aspect of her life, she doesn’t ask to spar with people, or even bring it up at all, but people ask her all the time, even if they clearly would lose or become hurt should she miscalculate during the fight. She looks at people like they usually create problems, and often has a somewhat reserved nature to other humans. You have to work quite hard to get anything more than formalities out of her. She will dead-pan handle people with blunt and very to-the-point statements, aid whenever possible, but very quickly get back to handling the Pokemon she so carefully tends. Her focus is clear, she’s all about hard work, her very small select family, and the Pokemon.

Her brutal, loud and brash personality only comes out with friends, family, difficult humans, OR any Pokemon. She will joke and laugh and play with Pokemon, but clam up around humans, maintaining tight body language and generally will be a little cold by regular standards. She does however have some weaknesses in this emotionless shield she puts up. When peach was young she was always angry, which swung so fast to sadness, back and forth. Her teenage years it just got worse and worse, it was crippling at points. She is to this day, full of fire and rage, even sadness, but now she has learnt to control it, to use it. When she sees that in others, it’s familiar, and she is pushed to drop the front, and be very real with the person. Underdogs I suppose, people who get bad reps, but deserve the same as everyone else. She can’t ignore it.

Once you start to pry open her personality, you’ll find she’s a lot more laid back and fun than originally appeared, you just have to work hard to find that side of her. She will meme reference, can’t dance to save her life, loves her coffee, and can be caught in quiet contemplation while gardening. This hobby is her calmest, and often is why she can stay so level headed when her quiet rage boils up again. Without time outside she will become grouchy, a little snippy, and lethargic. Will not go in the ocean for any reason other than life or death, is fine with ponds and rivers, or water at wading height. Likes the rain.

With regards to her training others, they usually have to tolerate her somewhat strict nature. She is a little....unforgiving, holds a grudge if you make a lot of mistakes, and has no tolerance for ignorance in the age of information that we all live in. In previous posts I’ve mentioned she’s only recently selected two students, after many years of testing kids who want to learn from her. Hundred tried out, only two have ever been approved. How she teaches is very fast paced, be prepared to get some scrapes and bruises, she will test your physical and emotional tolerances with intense tasks, carefully watching students like a hawk. Bad posture in your stance? She’ll be the first to tell you to sort it out. Not hearing your Pokemon partner? Right, now you spend the day without using words trying to communicate, let’s see how you like not being listened to.

This is a woman who has spent her life saying very little, and watching everything, she watches Pokemon and can see an issue from a mile off, and in battles, her observations are why she can react fast, and chose effective strategy to avoid damage and achieve results. Don’t let her body fool you, her strongest asset is analysing, watching, planning. Those skills have over the years transferred to people too. As a student, mistakes don’t go unnoticed with this professor.

Her methods are harsh but fair, and should you prove yourself, she will protect you with her life.

Because of her disinterest in kids and lots of noise, she does pass the training of students on to the other staff members whenever possible. Grey takes on the lions share of battle lessons, he is far calmer, more open and friendly, with patience for people, and an empathy that peach sometimes struggles to have. When you go through a lot of harsh training, and difficult events, it’s hard to change how you feel or think, with peach, well, she’s been through it. Most do not come out the other end in one piece, but she did, and it made her strong. You may think I mean strong like buff and big, and yeah sure she is, but I mean it mentally more than anything. Peach will not quit. She has learnt to destroy the boundaries that stop people getting hurt, gone is the fear that freezes you in your tracks, that feeling that you’ll pass out if you go one more step. She’s learnt to ignore it.

This means she’s a little forgetful at how it is to be normal, to be vulnerable and soft and squishy like students so usually are.

She has her issues, but for the most part, visitors get a laugh, a smile, a calm assertive confidence, and facts. She will indulge those who have genuine interest, or show a connection with nature, an understanding of the balance that needs to be struck for everyone to live well together.

Despite her many flaws, she’s fiercely protective, and will go above and beyond to defend the island, it’s staff, the Pokemon and the visitors. Injustice is her biggest gripe, along with littering, and she doesn’t stand by quietly if something happens that seems unfair.

You will not see her without Valka, her vulpix, close by. That Pokemon doesn’t like to be touched by strangers, at all, and will run the second someone comes at her with that intent. Peach will scold you for pushing yourself onto her, should you persistently try to get close to pet Val. They are in sync, if peach is sad, Val is sad, if Val is stressed, peach is stressed, and so on. They are inherently connected, it’s just been that long, the psychic bridge between them has been built, and reinforced over the years.

The only other Pokemon who follows her so endlessly is Booker, a teddiursa who’s pretty rough looking. He quietly trots behind, grouchy and stoic, they fight closely together a lot. He lost his mom a long time ago to poachers, and peach took him in, and changed her whole life for him. Not many people know, but Booker was the reason she left the rangers, changed career, and got so strong. Will tolerate people petting him but isn’t keen at all, grumbles a lot and tries to move away.

You may also need to know about the others, for the sake of writing, she here a few more bits that may be important to you, or others wanting to do this.

Grey is very tall, very burly, composed, tells bad dad jokes, is a bit of a goof if allowed to be. If he sees a pun, he’ll say it. Can’t help himself. Very nice guy to work with, good at keeping people calm and grounded. Pokemon are drawn to him like a moth to a flame, he gives off warm energy, and has inhuman amounts of patience. If you wrong his family however, he will snap back.

He grew up in the city, loves to swim and hike and cycle, can snowboard, is really sporty. A total brain box with held items, and boosting stats. He will explore many paths, to make sure visitors and students get the information they need, in a way that can be remembered and retained for later. Is a huge guy, but will get on the floor to play with a tiny Pokemon. Treats big “meaner” looking species like babies, very good with all pokemon.

His free time is spent either tinkering, swimming, or trimming his bonsai trees. This guy stares at screens a lot, so appreciates time away from them. Peach built him his own little greenhouse for his trees and tools, which he keeps clean and loves dearly.

His methods as a teacher are built around fun and games, he makes hard work easier to do by distracting trainers from the difficult bits, and focusing in on something more interesting or compelling.

His most commonly seen Pokemon would be a houndoom, Saxon, old battle veteran, retired now to herding and being a good boy. Very gentle, loves a pet.

Pari, now a fully fledged nurse, often oversees the labs front desk and pokecentre features, such as healing pokemon, and informing trainers who come to visit. Her skills with eggs and hatchlings is high, she’s great with younger Pokemon, and hands out good advice to trainers a lot. She’s not a fighter, never was, but can find any file, any study, any book, and any refrence you may need. A true bookworm, loves her romance novels, chat shows and upbeat celebrity gossip mags. Will cry at a lot of stuff, be it sad or happy.

She’s got a seriously upbeat personality, but if caught off guard or shocked, she gets a little flustered. Too much chaos will overwhelm her, but usually she’s on top of things. The years spent on the island have made her better at maintaining composure in emergencies. With lots of siblings, she’s very competent with others, and has a good ability to disarm cagey people with her jolly nature. Because of this, she can sometimes gain information from trainers that some of the more harsh professors may not have access to. Charming is a word for it.

Her partners are an eevee, and a happiny. They are quite sweet and well adjusted, the eevee gets a bit bouncy if you get it too excited.

[poguestvff]

LIKE A BIG SISTER SHOULD — WHEEZIE CAMERON

in which wheezie cameron finds that blood doesn’t make you family, love and affection does.

taglist | masterlist | 2.5k words | @pogueslandia ,

warning(s): food, she/her pronouns, ward slander, a little sarah slander but that’d include reading between the lines. why’d this make me want to make a series of reader and Wheezie being best friends.

There's always been a heavy feeling of loneliness that rested upon the youngest cameron's shoulders, weighing her down as it seemed to pile over the years. Her siblings were always older, an age gap between them that even if it was shortened by a few years, their worlds would still be two different things. All three of them were in three different stages of life yet somehow it felt like Wheezie wasn't even there at times.

Throughout the entirety of her schooling career so far, everything had somehow been about Rafe and Sarah. Sarah was the perfect one; the paragon who could do no wrong. Even if Sarah tried to disobey, it'd be turned around to be made out as a minute mistake. She'd probably be able to get away with it a second time if she did it a different way. Maybe the same way.

Rafe was quite the opposite. The bastard child who needed a plentiful amount of attention in hopes he can be more like the paragon. With all this attention, his head only grew. It never gave him the space for growth. It minimized the space to stay exactly where he was for years on end.

This left Wheezie to be the ostracized sibling. She wasn't a social butterfly or a poster child like Sarah and she definitely wasn't a loner or the 'damaged goods' child like Rafe. She was just... average. With average grades and an average personality. Just average old Wheezie. She told herself this consistently, watching her father balance his attention between making sure Rafe stayed between the lines he'd drawn for him in a radius such as a dart board and allowing Sarah step out of them, even erasing some of the lines so she could walk on by them without a second thought.

But Wheezie was stuck in that tiny little circle in the middle, the bullseye as if scared to move out of those lines. The one place that was the hardest to pinpoint specifically by her father. But there was one thing Ward Cameron always said correct about his younger daughter. That he wouldn't be able to pin point his little dart of control into the middle of the board because she was misunderstood and misunderstood she was.

Though one person had been able to pick up on every single one of Wheezie's emotions.

Y/n Y/L/N was a pogue who had done tutoring on the side for a little extra money and when John B had recommended Y/n for help with Wheezie's homework, Ward was quick to say okay. He hardly even asked a thing about Y/n, just telling her to help Wheezie pass eighth grade and that was all. It was made very apparent to Y/n that was Wheezie was not as much of a priority to Ward as other things were.

Their first tutoring session, Wheezie was awfully dismissive. She didn't care for any of Y/n's efforts as they sat within the comfort of Wheezie's bedroom. She just wanted the entire hour to be over with the second she'd entered her room but Y/n was insistent, knowing that by the end of the school year she would have something instilled in Wheezie's brain. She just didn't know what that something was yet.

The second time they met, Y/n was more passive aggressive in hopes of breaking down the brick walls Wheezie had stored between her and everyone else in hopes of not disappointing them like the way she thought she'd disappointed her father. Y/n sat her down in her desk chair, swiveling her chair to her as she rested her hands on the younger girls shoulders. "You are going to have a really awkward couple of weeks if you and i don't become friends so no work today. We're playing 20 questions."

That night, Y/n learned a lot about Wheezie Cameron that she never thought she'd learned. Wheezie hated the color purple, she just painted her room that color because Sarah liked that color. Wheezie loved to paint and to draw, it was her favorite activity, she just rarely showed it bevause she hadn't believed in herself. Though, when she showed Y/n the canvas' that were shoved at the back of the closet, Y/n marveled at them. But Y/n's favorite fact, and the same one that almost made her hug Wheezie on the spot, was that she was never taught to swim and Y/n made her a promise that she would teach her.

As the weeks went by, Wheezie waiting anticipatingly for Y/n's beaten down, green ford bronco to pull up on the driveway and she'd leave the house with a giant smile on her face. It’d be early in the morning, a little less than an hour until school started, just like how Wheezie liked. She'd jump in the driver seat, embracing the smell of vanilla from the scented item hanging from the rear view mirror. She’d toss her bag to the back as Y/n would ruffle her hair, just like she had every morning. "And beloved was set in... late 1856!" Wheezie answered excitedly as Y/n drove down the final street towards her school after the two had gotten breakfast together.

"Perfect! You're gonna do so good on your test, Wheeze, I promise." Y/n told her ecstatically as she pulled into a parking space. Just before Wheezie could get out, Y/n held her upper arm just to gain her attention before she got out. "Tell Rose she doesn't have to get you after school. I'll leave school early and you and I are having a girls day. No studying, just me, you and a shit ton of sweets."

Wheezie smiled, she could feel the muscles in her jaw begin to hurt from how wide she had. She tilted her head to the side out of curiosity, eyeing the look of excitement on Y/n's face. "But why?"

Y/n shrugged, adjusting in her seat and fixing her rear view mirror. "Cause, you deserve it. I'm so proud of you, Little W." She told her, looking back towards the girl and seeing her smile slightly drop. "You okay?"

Wheezie couldn't remember a time where she was genuinely told that. Yeah, sure, Ward said it a few times but it'd be in a lousy tone before he'd wave her off, saying he was busy with whatever office work he had to attend to. Sarah may have said it a few times but it was rushed before she'd run after her friends with a quick goodbye to Wheeze, leaving her alone in the sand. It was never sincere. Not in the way Y/n had said it.

She rubbed her hands against her jean clad thighs with a sharp breath before nodding. “Yeah. I've just never really been told that before. Like—Like genuinely." She said, lowly, in hopes Y/n would understand and wouldn't push it.

Y/n had known Wheezie long enough to know her tells and avoiding eye contact was one of the biggest ones. So she didn't indulge further in the conversation, brushing it under the rug but knowing she'd have to go diving back in for that little tidbit later on. Instead she wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug from over the console. "I'll tell you i'm proud of you everyday if i have to." Y/n muttered before kissing the top of her head. "Now go, if you're late to first period, your dad will kill me." And Wheezie was able to leave the car with a smile on her face, already looking forward to the day planned later on.

Y/n was overall consistent, it was one thing Wheezie enjoyed knowing that when she made promises she tried to keep them as best as she could. Sometimes things slipped her mind but Wheezie could recognize that Y/n didn't forget a thing when it came to Wheezie. Like she made sure to engrave bits and pieces of her into her mind like a data chart. But it showed she cared and that was enough for Wheezie.

Y/n cared enough that when she entered her car after school, the smell of her favorite cinnabon's filled the car that made her look in the backseat, seeing a picnic basket. There wasn't a chance, right? You could only get them on the mainland. She turned her body swiftly towards the elder girl who sat with a smirk on her face. "You didn't?"

"I did. Second I left fourth period, got on a ferry just for you to have those overly sweet treats." Y/n said, tapping her nose with a 'boop'! "And I almost got stuck on the mainland because of it so you better enjoy the hell out of them."

"I will, I promise." Wheezie said dramatically as Y/n smiled, pulling out of the parking space to head down to the beach. Wheezie had said she didn't have a bathing suit, not prepared for the outing, though Y/n already said she had ransacked her room for clothes for after. Y/n was the only person allowed in Wheezie Cameron's room without Wheezie being there and the elder girl took pride in it.

As Y/n set up their small area for the few hours, she noticed Wheezie standing just where the water and the sand met. She kicked around the water with clear disinterest causing Y/n to huff, hands on her hips, before tossing off her hoodie to get in. The splash she'd made by pushing herself into the water made Wheezie jump, a laugh falling from the two's lips. "Come on." Y/n said, standing and holding her hands out to Wheezie.

"Y/n/n, I can't swim."

"Y/n/n I can't swim, well, obvi, i know that, little W. But, you have your amazing best friend to keep you afloat. I won't let you go, i swear." Y/n said, holding up her pinky.

"Swear?"

"On my life." She reassured with a trusting smile before Wheezie walked further in. When the water had gotten to her above her waist, it'd freaked her out a bit though Y/n talked her through it, coaxing her further in slowly. Wheezie was kept above the water as Y/n held her hands as the buoyancy was used to their advantage. "See, not as bad as you thought?"

Wheezie shook her head though still nervous. "Not as bad, not my thing though."

"Why don't we try actually swimming? I won't force you if you don't want to and we can get back to shore right now but maybe just try?" She asked as Wheezie had to think about it for a moment. She almost felt guilty, remembing just a few months ago when Sarah had asked her if she could teach her but she refused. Though maybe, just maybe, it was because of Y/n being a bit more trust worthy that Wheezie said yes this time.

It took a while, Wheezie was frightened by letting go even as Y/n would say she was okay. Wheezie would tighten her grip on her shoulders before trying again and again until she eventually got it. She finally was able to keep herself above the water without flailing, recognizing that she was okay. Y/n cheered as she watched, not caring for the stares of others around them. "See, dude? You just have to start applying yourself! You did it!"

"I did it!" Wheezie said as Y/n hugged her, the two laughing before Wheezie screamed making Y/n's laughter die fast. "Something touched me!"

"Wheeze, it was seaweed." Y/n said softly before turning and letting her place her hands on her shoulders. "Yeah let's get you out of here before a jellyfish gets you."

Wheezie widened her eyes. "Jellyfish?"

As the sun had began to set and people had packed up their things and left, Y/n and Wheezie stayed. Wheezie was on her fourth doughy treat, even though Y/n told her to slow down two treats ago. Towels were wrapped around each of their shoulders as they watched the pretty colors fade in to one another, a mixture of pink, blue and orange array of colors combining to make a cotton candy sky. Wheezie watched as Y/n got up, accepting a phone call from Ward, the only phone call she hadn't silenced since they'd left the car.

In the time she'd left, Wheezie took advantage of it to recognize how appreciative she was of all that Y/n was doing for her. She came in as a tutor and, to Wheezie, was to stay as a friend. As family. Wheezie was more then ecstatic to have someone who would be there to rant and rave about the other Cameron's, someone she could trust with her secrets and the contents of her always running brain. Someone who was just there.

"Hey, your father would like us back in thirty so we should leave in ten." She said coming back and sitting beside Wheezie as she caught sight of her face, the lack of the smile that was there previously concerning her. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing, really. Just... I really enjoyed today, Y/n. It really lets me know you're not just here for like... like the money or something."

Y/n let out a scoff. "Are you kidding? I enjoy nothing more than watching you freak out over the existence of jellyfish." She joked as Wheezie pushed her to the side with a laugh. Y/n recovered, letting out a content sigh as she tossed an arm over Wheezie's shoulders. "You're stuck with me now, Wheezes. Can't wait to record you falling at your next soccer game."

Wheezie couldn't help the laugh that slipped past her lips, leaning into Y/n's embrace as her head rested against her clavicle. "And I'll be looking for you in the stands, Y/n/n."

Y/n and Wheezie had both found out something about the other that night. Wheezie found that she didn't want to be like Sarah and she was glad she wasn't like Rafe. She was content with her own little circle on the dart board but maybe she could take a bit after her newest role model. And Y/n found that she was able to instill several things into the youngers mind including To Kill a Mockingbird, Inca Civilizations, and that she now had a true and present big sister to look up to.

[sylvidoptera]

"What do you mean, you forgot?" The voice was a mixture of shock, horror, and exasperation.

Yxalia quivered, the tendrils on its ducked head waving with its nervousness and shame. "I'm sorry! This was my first human and I was so focused on making it really nice that I forgot to sign it before sending it out." The restlessly moving appendages drooped and nervously twined around each other. "It's not really as bad as everyone thinks, is it? You said no one's ever been sent out without a mark."

The Elder god looked at its new trainee and blinked several eyes. "No one has! Not only does your mark help you accrue cosmic growth points based on what your human does, but it also allows those creatures to classify things easily. Have you SEEN what they do with ideas and creatures that fall outside the known or average?!" One leathery wing covered several eyes while the others continued glaring in disbelief. "GO FIND THAT HUMAN! You need to fix this!"

Nodding obediently, Yxalia rushed out of its superior's office and headed to the portal room. There was usually one open to the human realm at least once a day. -----

"What do you mean, the baby doesn't have a mark? How is that even possible?! The gods create everyone. Gods are infallible, right?" The infant's father looked utterly horrified, his voice breaking as he gazed at his wife and the doctor. "The… the texts. Those stupid prophecies that the "no fate but what we make" nonbelievers spout. About the new god that will look human but be born markless and destroy the world as we know it…" His voice trailed off as the three of them looked at each other and the otherwise perfectly normal-seeming girl child waving her tiny fists at the air.

The doctor shifted their eyes back and forth, nervously taking a breath. "The official recorder is going to be here in the next hour. As of right now, no one but the three of us knows. We have to make a decision; do we kill it humanely or do we take the chance that the Registrar of the Gods will experiment on it and then destroy it?"

The young mother looking down at her vigorously nursing daughter jerked her head up and glared so fiercely that both her husband and the doctor stepped back involuntarily. "We leave, and you keep your mouth shut." The mark of her god flared with her temper, reminding the physician of exactly what kind of human they were dealing with. One did not anger the Chosen of Hestia. Especially not when it came to their children. The fire of the hearth can burn more than fuel for cooking.

Nodding obediently, they turned to the computers and began erasing the files regarding this particular infant and its parents. By the time they turned around, the three had disappeared and they heaved a sigh of relief before clocking out and going to get blind, stinking drunk. -----

Yxalia started feeling odd when it stepped into the portal. Not bad, just different. More assured and powerful somehow; which was an absolute opposite of how it should be feeling, considering its massive mistake. Yet the sensation grew steadily the closer it got to the human realm. By the time the portal spat it out at one of the undersea locations, Yxa knew without a doubt something was happening to it. The young god thought it felt like what the Elders had described as "ascension to the next level", but there was no way that's what it was. That only happened after eons of time where countless humans lived their lives and points were awarded for favored behaviors that reflected back on their creator.

Something was very, very off. It was hard to say "wrong" about something that felt amazing and boggling like this, but the situation was definitely not normal.

Neither, Yxalia realized, was the time sync. By the time it fully materialized and reached out to get a bearing on where and when it was, the poor newbie realized it had taken the slow portal and the human it was looking for was now about a quarter of a century old in Earth time. With horror, Yxa wondered if the strange feeling was related to the fact that its creation had somehow managed to start the destruction of everything because it didn't have any guidance. It knew the human was still alive - all gods could feel the first spark of life and the last animating energies going in and out of the vessel they created. The human was still alive… but what was happening above the waves?

It was time to face the consequences. Sighing, Yxalia looked around for a form of Earth life they could adapt to for blending in and headed to the surface of the ocean. -----

Kymberlie looked around at the mob that had her trapped at the end of the wharf. Seriously? This was going to be how it ended? Her parents had managed to hide her lack of mark for the first part of her life until she was old enough to understand that not having one was dangerous. The constant moving, ducking the Registrar at each new place, being taught at home, never being able to have a true friend to tell EVERYTHING to… it sucked, but she was still alive. She'd made it this far.

Stepping back as the searching crowd methodically tore the pier full of crates apart trying to find "The Abomination", "The World Ender", "The Godless" - and wow was the chanting getting to her even more than the fact that they wanted to set her on fire - Kym realized she was going to die. Probably horribly. With a sigh, she looked up at the sky and said "I hope you all are happy about this."

The voice was so loud in her head that it even drowned out the chanting and the crashes and bangs of the searchers. "I'm really not, actually. I'm so sorry. Hang on, I'll explain once I surface."

Frowning, Kym turned around and tried to find where it came from. Her hiding place in the corner of a couple of huge crates was at the very end of the long wooden expanse and the only thing she could see was the ocean below. The ocean. Which was making strange ripples and bulging ominously in an ever-growing ring. Since she was going to die anyway, going mad first might be nice. Might even make her oblivious to the flames at the end.

"You're not mad. I'm new at this, but I'm quite skilled. Just a little forgetful."

The bulge grew bigger as the crowd grew closer and Kymberlie just gave in and went with it. "Forgetful? What did you forget?" The crashes and yelling were louder and nearer and this was nothing at all like how she thought her life would end.

"Would you PLEASE stop with the life ending thing? You're designed for a long life span. I made sure."

Something massive was breaching the surface and the water tension looked like the caul of a newborn baby before it ruptured. Kym wasn't sure she wanted to see what was going to be birthed from it, but at least the water was cooler than fire. Strangely calm, the markless human climbed up to the top of the crate pile for a better look, vaguely hearing the shouts of triumph from her pursuers as she showed herself.

Half an hour later, Yxa was mostly submerged again with only one small tendril above the water to add gestures to the mental conversation it and its creation were having. It was very surprised and embarrassed about the whole scene that had just happened and was not appreciating the laughter still occasionally erupting from the human female sitting on the edge of the wharf and looking down at the water.

"Seriously? That's the form you picked?! I mean, don't get me wrong. It's awesome and worked like a charm to get them running, but …" The laughter continued as Kym's creator huffily blew a bubble that made the boats in the harbor sway alarmingly.

"An octopus is a perfectly normal creature of this world! I landed underwater. It made sense." The huffy tone was still colored with reaction, but also starting to catch the amusement.

Kym arched an eyebrow. "Yes, but a NORMAL octopus only has 8 legs, not 16. And no tendrils on its head. Also, it's not the size of a high-rise building." Choking back another snort, she breathed deeply and smiled as her head shook. "Are you sure I've not gone mad?"

The tip of the tendril somehow managed to convey disapproval as it twirled. "I told you, I am very…"

"Skilled, yes, I know. But forgetful." Kym grinned. "You also know how to make an entrance. That was awesome."

The tendril turned a shade of bright yellow as Yxa's system flushed with a shy pride. "Thank you. I wasn't going to let them destroy you, so I was braced for a fight, but I didn't realize all I'd have to do is show myself." The voice in Kym's head sounded a little nervous. "What do you think is going to happen now?"

"Well, considering you had them either dropping everything and running screaming, or dropping to their knees in supplication, it could go either way." Kym looked thoughtful. Maybe we should lay low for a few days and check the news to see what gets reported." She grinned, suddenly looking utterly carefree since the first time she learned she was different from everyone else. "You know, there's whole volumes of fiction about things like you rising from the sea to destroy the world. Are you going to stick around?"

Yxa made the harbor ripple with the nervous movement of its tentacles. "Well, technically, I was only supposed to come here, mark you, and go back. But time DOES run differently here. I can stay a little while to keep you safe and see what happens." -----

Kym could always tell the registrars that still missed the old days. Their work was stilted and reluctant and they were always nervous about reporting to her. Dave was particularly a pain. He'd always been proud to be a child of Ra and had lorded it over others. Now that the mark of your god was deemed a simple "Made in …" stamp instead of setting the course of your life, those who had "more prestigious" gods as creators were grumpy about being lumped in with the rabble of the minor gods' creations. Equality wasn't fun for those who had been used to being exalted.

"I understand that as the new head of the Registrar it is in your purview to set rules in place," Dave's eyes nervously darted to the view of the ocean outside the office window, "but don't you think that this requirement here is a little, um, demeaning to…" His voice cut off as he abruptly shut his mouth hard enough to click his teeth.

Idly examining her nails while showing off the delicate ring of tentacles that marked her wrist like a bracelet, Kym kept a straight face - barely - as the former Head Registrar (now her administrative assistant) tried to keep the distaste out of his voice so as not to anger her or her patron god. "To whom, Dave? The ones who used their supposed specialness to abuse the system for their own gain? Or to the majority who have long been told they are lesser and should be grateful to have a place supporting the 'elite'? Welcome to the new world. Get used to it."

The slight purpling of his ears and the tightness of his lips was absolutely breathtaking as he turned without a further word and walked out of the office.

After her meeting was over, Kym went to the window and smiled down at the bay below. "We're going to make some serious changes. Thanks for messing up."

The bubble was a relatively small one, and the tone of amusement colored the grumbling answer. "I didn't mess up, I just forgot. Hush, mortal. Get back to work."

Everyone is born with a clearly visible mark that denotes which God created them. It has been so for time immemorial. Then, markless, you are born.

[faith--in-the-future]

You know how everyone collectively lost it when we got that photo of Louis holding Lucky as a new born and one of his hands was holding the baby’s foot? Someone on Twitter recently tweeted that shirtless photo of Louis holding new born Freddie and I noticed that he’s also holding one of his tiny little feet with one of his hands 🥲 and I felt so bad for Louis and Freddie and everyone in their family, thinking about how fandom probably soured what was a really good and happy time for Louis and those close to him by their incessant bbg bs all over the internet. I am a fan of Louis first and anything else second, like I believe you are also. So I’m at that point where I’ve accepted that whatever Louis chooses to tell us about his personal life is the truth and I hope I never ever partake in any negativity like that again. I’m ashamed to have done so in the past 😔

we've all made mistakes in the past, the important thing is realizing it and even more important is realizing why we did them and what lead us to act like that, learning those things doesn't justify our mistakes or erase their consequences but at least it makes those mistakes useful bc we will never let ourselves repeat them again. i personally wasn't around at the time but I can imagine the huge push that that group of people must have adoperated to make sure everyone thought and acted like they wanted (just like they do now) so the fact that u are now able to see it for what it was is a good sign!

I can't and won't speak for louis or his feelings, I personally feel that whatever louis tells us about his personal life might not always be the truth but it IS what he chose to present as the truth for the time being and I will respect that bc everyone should be allowed basic respect without needing to explain personal and possibly uncomfortable or traumatic details about their own lives (think about how victims of abuse often don't want you to know certain details of their experiences but that doesn't mean that u should call them liars or not respect what they do tell you) and If I was in louis' place that's how I'd want to be treated

[junowritings]

Hello there mighty one!

May I request the bois reacting to fem!reader carrying tyem 'princess' style?

Reader looks week, skinny she looks like they don't have that much muscles. (Ironically they radiate big_D energy). She carries them like they don't weight that much. (+ Bonus points if reader acts like it's a normal thing!)

Be it a bet or one of the boys got injured or something else but reader ends up carrying them. That's literally it lol

Thank you ahead! ❤️💓

OH MAN THIS TOOK SO LONG IM SORRY! I had so much fun with this and I really hope that it was well worth the wait thank you so much for requesting!

--------

Riddle

♡ Honestly, you get a serious kick out of surprising people with your strength. Everyone always underestimates you, thinking that you’re too scrawny to pick up a chair much less even try picking up a person. You always protest about it, but unless someone actually wants you to show off just how strong you are you rarely get the chance to show off just how strong you are. Your fellow students would lose it if they found out just how easy it was to get swept off of their feet - you yanked Ace up into your arms once when he made the mistake of teasing you about it, giving him a little hoist into the air for good measure and cracking up at the shocked wheeze he let out at how easily you lifted him. Needless to say you’re pretty strong even if you don’t look it.

♡ You’d been lying if you said you hadn’t at least been a tiny bit tempted to carry Riddle around if only to see how he reacts - just thinking about the priceless look on his face was an amusing thought, but it remained as thoughts because as funny as it would be you value the life of yourself and your fellow classmates over the idea. It just so happens that thanks to a certain series of events, you actually get the chance to see the scenario play out in real life, surprisingly through no fault of your own.

♡ There’s certain times of the day where the crowds of students around Night Raven College swell and dissipate depending on where you are. In the middle of the day the rush is arguably the worst to anyone hoping not to get lost within a swarm of students bustling from their classrooms. It’s the period right before lunch actually starts, and whilst you should technically be in class right now, you’d all gotten enough done that you were allowed out a few minutes earlier than usual. Frankly you were more than happy for the extra minutes - it meant a few precious moments where you could tear through the hallways and get to the cafeteria to nab a snack before the main crowds started clogging up the exits as they did everytime the lunch period rolls in.

♡ You’re humming around a mouthful of the sweet treat you’d snagged from the days menu when you cross paths with Riddle, and though he doesn’t look too chuffed about you eating food outside of the appropriate dining hall he doesn’t call you out on it. You two fall into stride retreating down the hallway from where you’d first entered; it seems that you’re both heading towards the same area and you don’t mind the company so it suits you just fine to spend a little time with the dorm leader before going your respective ways for the next class. The peace doesn’t last for very long - soon enough the rest of the classes are being let out, and you’re suddenly reminded of why you were rushing to get away from the dining hall in the first place.

♡ All you see is the dinner rush crowd making a mad dash to the cafeteria and you act without thinking. You just know that Riddle would step in to enforce at least some kind of order to the pandemonium, but even if he could scare the crowd into stopping they’re still going to barge right over the two of you at this rate, and you’d rather avoid having the ghosts scraping either one of you off of the hallway floor. You’d much rather suffer through getting reamed out by Riddle for the stunt you’re about to pull than getting trampled by a stampede of students with no sense of personal space. When you mutter a quick “sorry!” Riddle gives you a confused look, which turns baffled when you toss your snack for him to catch in order to free up your hands (he catches it, thankfully - you don’t wanna make the journey back to buy a new one.)

♡ It’s a swift motion - all Riddle feels is your hands grabbing hold of him and suddenly the world is spinning and he finds himself pulled right up into your arms as you race back the way you’d come. His shout falls deaf on your ears in favor of the curses you’re chanting under your breath as you run, shifting the dorm leader around in your arms till you find a good enough position that he’s not going to fall out of your hold as you pick up your pace.

♡ You’re fast, and strong enough that carrying Riddle is no chore at all - you could probably do this under normal circumstances with no problem, not that you’d probably get the chance to after this. That little fact can be stewed over later, you decide, instead focusing on finding a place to get out of the way of the crowds. It isn’t long before you find an open classroom, and no sooner have you skidded through the doorway do you watch the student horde race past, completely oblivious to the pair of you. You let out a breathy laugh, more than a little relieved as you lean up against the doorframe and finally cast your gaze down to the boy in your arms.

♡ Yep, you were right about the priceless expression.

♡ Okay, so maybe the sudden grab and dash had left the dorm leader looking a little more...disheveled than usual, if the popped collar and skewed strands of hair from where his head had been pressed against your chest are any indication. You’re guessing that he’s still reeling from the fact that you’ve hoisted him up and carried him away like a princess as though he weighs nothing, because he doesn’t immediately start chewing you out about your little escape. His face is beginning to flush though, reaching the midpoint between pink and that signature red that’s close enough to match his hair; you certainly don’t make things any better when you move him around in your arms again, lifting him up a little more as your head ducks down.

♡ Riddle bristles, stuttering whatever planned retort he’d had only to freeze when he realizes you’re leaning towards the snack he’s managed to hold onto as you’d run. Your teeth snag its corner and you let out a triumphant “ha!” that’s muffled as you ease back up to finish off your self-proclaimed reward. It’s at that moment a soft cough turns both of your attention to the rest of the classroom, where several loitering students give the pair of you curious looks at the display. That finally kicks things back into gear, and you narrowly avoid dropping Riddle with how hard he wriggles out of your grip, working quickly to act as though the whole thing never happened which earns him an amused snort as you resolve to finish off your snack whilst he fixes his collar.

Leona

♡ Food has become a very effective bargaining chip when it comes to bets with your fellow students. You’re pretty sure placing monetary bets would get you in trouble if you were caught by one of the staff (especially Crewel, you don’t think anyone can handle his punishments more than once), and with all the maintenance going into your dorm betting money just isn’t an option you’re interested in. Food on the other hand is always in the ballpark, and with the limited edition dishes that pop onto the cafeteria menu throughout the year, alongside some of the phenomenal cooks amongst the student body, there’s no shortage of food bribes to use as a motive to get things done.

♡ Your strength has come into play on more than one occasion, because it either leads to people trying to call a bluff and wanting you to prove yourself, or they wanna see just how strong you are. You certainly don’t mind thanks to the little rewards your feats manage to net you, plus it makes for an interesting point of conversation when you’re bored. It’s boredom that leads to the following conversation with Cater during break - being outside the only real entertainment is walking around, talking to other students that cross your path, or just lounging around till the break’s over.

♡ You’d been walking around with Cater for a while before the appeal of watching the scenery faded and you elected to find some place to sit. You’re leaning against his shoulder watching him text and swipe through his pictures to pass the time; soon enough an image of you shows up and you snort at the picture of you holding up Deuce by his legs. It was taken a while ago, and the telltale shit eating grin on your face is a testament of how amusing the whole situation had been; seeing it now sparks up the same conversation you’d had at the time - can you really pick up anyone with no problem?

♡ Eager to jump at the opportunity for entertainment, the two of you turn your eyes across the field, where Cater takes to pointing people out. Epel? Easy, but wouldn’t be too happy about it. Kalim? You’ve done it before and it went pretty well minus the fact that his enthusiasm made him damn near slip out of your arms. You answer yes to most of the people he points out to you, until his gaze lands on someone lounging under the treeline and he points them out to you. Following his line of sight, you catch sight of Leona and the two of you share a look as you huff and say that yeah, of course you could pick that big lug up!

♡ Cater asking you to actually prove it wasn’t what you expected, and you give him a doubtful glance trying to gauge if he’s joking or not. Turns out he’s not, and at your hesitation he offers a bribe to convince you, and at the mention of one of Trey’s signature tarts you visibly perk up. He doesn’t even have to pull out the treat from his bag before you’re up onto your feet and jogging right over to the treeline, shooting him a confident grin over your shoulder as you approach the sleeping lion.

♡ To be honest, you probably would have tried this at some point anyway, but Trey’s tarts are a hell of an incentive to do it right now, and it’s the driving force that steels your resolve as you approach him. You know that he notices you - you’re not exactly quiet, and while he doesn’t open his eyes or turn to look at you his ears twitch in your direction at the sound of your footfalls coming towards him. It’s only when you squat down beside him that he cracks an eye open and lets out an inquisitive grumble asking you what you’re doing.

♡ You only tell him not to worry, but that just makes him more wary given that every time you’ve said that before it’s definitely cause for concern. You end up proving him right to be wary when you shuffle close enough to actually touch him and slot your hands under his back, promptly hefting him up from his once comfortable spot beneath the shade and into your arms.

♡ Leona jolts in response and you narrowly avoid an elbow to the ribs at how he squirms about at the sudden position change; his ears are pressed flat against his head and he squares you with a scathing look as he orders you to put him back down, calling you a brat for good measure. You only huff at the dorm leader and strengthen your hold on him, making sure to keep one hand safely cradling his back as you spin around to show Cater your latest catch. There’s no missing the amusement in Cater’s face as he makes a poor attempt to hide his snicker with one hand as he holds up his phone to snap a picture commemorating the moment.

♡ Seeing the camera you flash a smile and a thumbs up with some careful maneuvering of the man in your arms, quickly returning your hands back to him when he hisses and shifts again. It’s probably not the wisest idea to hold onto him for very long, and you can tell Leona’s none too pleased by suddenly being picked up from the spot he was comfortable in, so you don’t keep him up for very long before you amble back over to the trees, setting him down as gently as you can without accidentally pulling in his tail as you pull away. This time his elbow makes a solid hit against your hip on the way down and you end up dropping him the rest of the way, keeling over with a pained wheeze as the pair of you topple none too gracefully to the ground, devolving into complaints and groans at the turn of events.

Azul

♡ It’s not entirely unheard of for Azul to stay behind in some of the classrooms once classes have concluded. Whilst the Monstro lounge is the ideal location to get things done, sometimes the patrons get too rambunctious for his liking and he prefers a little bit of peace and quiet while he works on the day’s schoolwork. The classrooms are perfect for this as most students are all too eager to filter out and go about their own business, leaving the rooms empty for people to mill in and out of as they please.

♡ He works uninterrupted for the most part, only pulling his attention away from the papers spread out across his desk to look towards the door, hearing the chatter of passing students outside though they only last a brief moment before their voices filter off and disappear as they move away from the classroom. These momentary distractions come and go so the school work is almost completely finished by the time any notable interruptions actually come this way. Unfortunately when they do it almost immediately stops him in his tracks; there’s a slam on the wall leading out to the hallway, and Azul jolts in his seat as he hears something slide up the wall getting higher and higher before it’s finally revealed.

♡ Azul watches Floyd’s head poke up from one of the overhead windows, and that’s enough to get him to pause mid writing as the pair lock eyes. Now, the Leech twins are tall, taller than most of the students in Octavinelle, but there’s no way that he should be visible so it's reasonable to assume that he couldn’t manage the height without the help of a step-ladder. That step-ladder theory goes out of the window when Floyd’s head drifts over to the far side of the window, and the Leech twin flashes his dorm leader a toothy grin and a wave for good measure as he drifts backwards and forwards in a way that looks...off.

♡ It’s bizarre, but not the weirdest thing that Azul’s seen Floyd do so whilst he does marvel at the sight for a moment or two he tries to return back to his work - tries being the key word here. Floyd makes an effort to peer through the glass, calling down to someone as he leans closer towards the window. That leads to the twin nearly slamming his head into the glass and a hand flies up to stop the would-be injury as he looks down out of the window's line of sight.

♡Floyd’s stance totters and momentarily his head ducks out of view as though he’s dropped. That’s enough to get the dorm leader to his feet to finally investigate, and he rises from his desk and works his way over to the door, letting out a sigh as he slides open the door and prepares himself for whatever trouble is going to be on the other side. Sure enough Floyd’s leaning up against the wall, greeting Azul when he steps out into the doorway. Floyd’s not the only one there though - there’s a few miscellaneous students milling around the Octavinelle students, but the main point of interest is the person standing right below Floyd, arms wrapped around his knees and keeping him up in the air as they twirl around to face Azul without even a tremble in their grip.

♡ The grin you offer him is similar to Floyds, brimming with amusement as you move your grip to offer a wave, shifting your weight around so as to not drop the boy in your arms as you do so. The raised brow and inquisitive look only makes you grin wider before a tap on your shoulder brings your attention back to the person you’re holding. Azul watches Floyd motion for you to lower him which you do without issue, and once you do the younger Leech twin leans down to whisper something in your ear. He doesn’t catch what he’s saying, but when two pairs of eyes suddenly square him with a scheming look he knows all too well he takes a cautionary step backwards, folding his arms across his chest.

♡ You drop Floyd the rest of the way and turn your sights on Azul, beginning to approach him with open arms and a deceptively warm smile as you call out his name. Now he knows that you’re up to something, and moves to take another step away when you suddenly dart to close the distance and pull him towards you. There’s no hesitation in the way that you quite literally sweep the dorm leader off of his feet, tucking him close to your chest as your arms move to rest along his back and the crook of his knees - you’re carrying him like a princess, and from the wide grin on your face this was clearly the impromptu plan you’d been given by that mischievous twin.

♡ Azul splutters, completely speechless at how effortlessly you’re able to sweep him off of the floor and into your arms, and he becomes acutely aware of just how many eyes are on him as you cradle him to your body making sure that he doesn’t fall. Your strength is no joke, and you make a small show of it by twirling around, catching his hat in the process when the action causes it to topple off of his head and placing it neatly back on his head by the time you come to a stop. For a second you could almost say he looks pleasantly amused beyond the initial surprise, which only makes it all the more entertaining for you.

♡ But then Floyd steps forward and goes to take him from your arms and Azul’s desperately patting you until you finally relent your grip and allow him to stand back onto his feet. You and Floyd share a conspiratory giggle as you watch Azul straighten his outfit back out and step out of the reach of the both of you, giving the pair of you a wide berth in case you decide to try sweeping him off of his feet again.

Kalim

♡ Your strength makes you perfect for doing heavy lifting tasks when the time calls for it. Moving things from one place to another has been the jobs left for the more physically strong students, so despite your otherwise unassuming appearance you’re usually the first person people come to when there’s any kind of heavy lifting to be done. You’ve been a huge help at events as a result, and more often than not the other students leave the cleanup to you, confident in your abilities to get things back to where they need to go.

♡ This particular cleanup task had taken quite a while, but with some diligent work and a couple snack breaks you and your friends had narrowed down the leftover mess, packing what could fit into the boxes provided so that they’d be easier to transport. When the inevitable question of which people were going to take what came up you were quick to step in, offering that it’d be no problem at all for you to handle this yourself - it was late anyways, so you’re sure everyone was eager to get back to their rooms for the night. It took a little convincing, but soon enough you’re left alone with the necessary keys and wishes for good luck with the work.

♡ You’d planned to take care of this task by yourself, reasoning that two or three trips should get the job done. You’d actually finished the first trip and was making your way out with the last couple of boxes when you cross paths with Kalim, who upon recognizing your face peeking out from behind the impromptu cardboard tower all but jumps in to help. Any protests fall on deaf ears, as once Kalim’s decided on something like helping you out he’s not gonna stop until it’s done.

♡ Before long he’s taken about a third of the boxes off of your hands (he tried to bargain for more but you were set on carrying the heavier stuff) and the pair of you are off to get them off to the right destination. Kalim fills the silence with conversation as he leads the way, which given the fact you’re the one who actually knows where storage is, ends up with you having to tug him in the right direction more than once before he charges down a wrong corridor. Despite that though the two of you make good progress, and you end up getting there faster than the initial first trip, and within a few minutes you’re nearing the storage room, albeit from a different direction than last time.

♡ You’re shifting about the boxes in your arms to fish through your pocket for the storage room keys with your free hand when you realize you’re getting close. Kalim skips ahead of you as you rummage for the keys, giving you an easygoing smile over his shoulder urging you to catch up. You feign a sigh of exasperation but move to pick up your pace which only prompts Kalim to charge on ahead aiming to get to the door first, still with that easy-going smile.

♡ That smile disappears in an instant however, as when you next blink, Kalim disappears from your field of vision and your heart drops at the sound of something scattering across the floor. Ditching your effort to find the keys, you race to catch up, stopping just short at the top of the stairs and looking down to where Kalim’s sat at the bottom, shaking off the dizziness from the fall. It’s fortunately only a few steps but you still rush to close the distance, hastily placing your bags onto the floor as you kneel down beside the dorm leader to check if he’s alright.

♡ Upon seeing your concern Kalim grins and makes a point to tell you that he’s fine, hoping to ease your worries. This time the sigh you let out is one of relief and you rise back to your feet, offering out your hand to pull him up with a playful jab to watch where he’s going next time. Kalim laughs and takes your hand, but the moment he gets to his feet he yelps and leans to one side, easing up off of one foot. He must have hurt it in the fall and your expression drops watching his smile falter, brows creasing in clear discomfort.

♡ Kalim’s still reassuring you he’s fine despite the fact that he’s visibly doing his best to put as little weight on his one foot as possible. You aren’t convinced in the slightest, and after a few seconds of him talking you’ve had enough; he doesn’t notice you nodding to yourself as you roll up your sleeves, but he does catch your mutter of “Don’t worry - I’ve got this.” as you step forward and place a hand on his back.

♡ You move carefully so as to not agitate the leg more than you have to, tucking your free hand under his knees and easing him off of his feet until you’re carrying his full weight, keeping him upright like it’s nothing at all. Kalim, for what it’s worth, is captivated by the strength, but he’s more focused on asking if you’re really okay with carrying him - he’s fine, he swears! (he’s not). Paying no heed to that, you nudge the boxes over to the side of the hallway with your legs, leaving them in a messy but contained pile to avoid anyone tripping on them while you’re gone. They can be sorted later, is your excuse as you start walking - he’s going straight to the infirmary, and then back to his dorm, the boxes can wait a little longer.

♡ He squirms a bit, but that’s only so that he can wrap his arms around your neck, bringing his head close to your shoulder. Kalim knows that he’s not gonna convince you otherwise, so why not enjoy the ride while it lasts? Besides, it’s nice to feel weightless sometimes! And he’s so sincere when he gushes about how strong you are that you can’t help but preen under the compliments, boasting a little about how you’ll have to properly show off just how strong you are. Some other time though, because as nice as pleasant as it is carrying the dorm leader around, you can do that just as easily once he’s been seen by the school nurse.

Vil

♡ You may not look like you’re that strong but looks can be deceiving. You’re more built than a lot of people realize - sure, it may not look like that to others, but these uniforms do a damn better job of hiding your strength than one might think. Friends and those who have seen it for themselves know that you’re strong, and Vil is one of them; you make no show of hiding that fact, because why would you? It’s something you’re proud of, and you use it to your advantage whenever the chance calls for it, and Vil’s not one to stop you from doing so.

♡ You also don’t shy away from challenges either, if anything they’re one of your weaknesses. Confident in your strength, any time someone questions it you’re eager to jump right in and prove them otherwise. Usually they’re arguments you’ve heard a hundred times before, the same old story as far as you’re concerned, that doesn’t mean the comments don’t tick you off though. Scrawny scrapper this, all bark and no bite that, it gets on your nerves that just because you don’t look that strong they immediately assume that you’re just weak.

♡ It’s a sore topic, and as such Vil can usually pinpoint the trouble that brews as a result of such challenges because of the way you react to such jeers. He’s attempted to ease your anger about it in the past, or at least told you to go easy on said challengers lest you get sent to Crewel’s office again, and for what it’s worth you’ve made fair progress in brushing off most comments.

♡ This time it appears that brushing them off isn’t quite so easy. Your voice can be heard even before you storm into the main hall accompanied by another student, and your planned curse filters off into a hiss to just leave it when you catch sight of Vil out of the corner of your eye. The student however doesn’t let up, and the dorm head soon catches wind of what this is about when he hears “Strong? Seriously? Pff, do you even have any muscles?” Vil can see the way your lip curls back into a snarl, and he turns his full attention to the scene just waiting for the inevitable show of strength you’re about to pull off. You do this every time without fail, and it’s only proven when you snap.

♡ “Oh yeah? Well, do you think someone without muscles can do this?” Vil’s halfway through taking stock of all of the items not bolted to the floor when you spin around and stride over to him, the confident shout of “Vil!” being one of the few warnings that he gets before you’re standing before him and wrapping your arms around him. It’s quick and smoother than he thought it’d be, and were this not the first time you’ve attempted this trick on him Vil could swear you’ve practised this before. Granted, you stumble a little near the end, but that’s more so because you overestimated the swoop of pulling him up into your arms and knocked your hip into a table in the process. Besides that it’s an otherwise practised landing, and suddenly Vil finds himself swept up into a bridal carry by a pair of surprisingly firm arms.

♡ You spin back around, triumphant grin on your face as you heft Vil up even higher, like a child proudly showing off their prize to anyone watching. True, you’re strong, and there’s not a moment that Vil feels like he’s going to fall out of your arms when you’re holding him, but the lack of warning and the abruptness of being hoisted up as though he weighs nothing more than a bag of feathers makes for a jarring situation. Your shout of “Ha! Believe me now?” doesn’t make the situation much better, and Vil has to rub his temples to stop the incoming stress lines at the amount of eyes you’ve drawn to your little display in the process of your shouting.

♡ Whatever challenge had been posed seems to have been sated by your show of strength, as the student throws up their hands in a mock-surrender as they concede, shrugging off the surprise that Vil can see clear as day on their faces. Clearly, they weren’t expecting you to be so brazen about showing off, but you’ve never been one to clam up when there’s a point to be made.

♡ Satisfied, you let out a huff and drop down onto one of the nearby chairs, shaking your head as you grumble “Can you believe that guy? Teach him not to doubt me next time.” It seems you’ve neglected to remember exactly who you picked up, and Vil’s swift to remind you with a soft cough to direct your attention back towards him. You look down at the dorm leader still firmly settled in your arms, lips pursing as you exhale a breath to mask your obvious realization upon meeting eyes with him.

♡ Muttering an apology, you gradually release your grip, giving him ample time to rise back to his feet and you let out a nervous chuckle when he folds his arms across his chest and gives you a stern gaze. Thankfully you’re let off with a chide of giving someone a warning the next time you decide to pick them up, but he doesn’t miss your grin as you parrot back “Next time?”

Idia

♡ Idia had gotten hurt. Those are the only words you needed to hear before you dropped everything and raced over to his bedroom, already thinking of the worst case scenarios. I mean, for a guy who spends the majority of time in his room there’s only so many ways he can get hurt, and none of them are a pleasing thought so you do your best to quash the thoughts till you actually get there to see him for yourself.

♡ When you first step inside his room nothing’s out of the ordinary, as far as you’re aware nothing’s been destroyed and besides the usual controlled chaos everything seems to have been moved out of place. Idia’s even sat at his computer chair which isn’t an unusual sight, though as you get closer you realize he’s got one of his legs pulled up against his chest, hands cradling his foot with a sour expression that morphs into discomfort each time he makes a move to roll the appendage to one side. That sour look doesn’t dissipate when he notices you, but he does jump a bit when you announce your presence by rounding the chair and leaning onto the one arm, leaning down as you ask what happened.

♡ You’ve gathered that he’s hurt his foot, you just don’t know how and as he hunches over even more in his chair you perk up, noting his reluctance. He doesn’t tell you, not at first, but with a bit of prodding he eventually caves that maybe he kind of accidentally got his feet tangled up in the wires under his gaming desk and got yanked right out of his chair when he’d finally pushed himself away from his computer. He hadn’t thought anything of it (besides the obvious embarrassment of getting tripped up in the first place) but the moment he’d tried to stand up it was clear that something had rolled the wrong way, which is precisely what led to him huddled up in his chair glaring daggers at the injured foot as though that’s going to magically fix the injury sustained.

♡ Admittedly, the image of the whole scenario would have made you laugh, but for the sake of your friend (and the fact that he glowers at you when your lip trembles trying to fight back a chuckle) you don’t, instead giving the simmering dorm leader a comforting pat on the shoulder reassuring him that he’ll be fine. Chances are it’s just sore from landing the wrong way - you’ll know for sure once he gets seen by the nurse.

♡ However, when you tell him that he hunkers down, insisting that he’s not budging; it’ll be fine if he just sleeps it off, is his argument, adding that it’s not like he can go anywhere since he’d rather stay put - what’s he gonna do, hop the whole way to the infirmary? Obviously not.

♡ You frown at his stubbornness, but give a determined huff as you hop off of the arm of the chair with a “fine.”. Idia’s surprised that you’re not fighting his decision more, but that surprise lasts but a moment until you lean down and promptly pluck the dorm leader right out of his seat. He just about chokes on his words and twists about in your arms, but you don’t even bat an eye at it as you shift him around until you’re cradling him close to your chest, eventually just settling on a princess carry for the sake of simplicity.

♡ When Idia cries out, asking what you’re doing, you merely shrug and offer “Since you can’t walk, I’ll carry you.” as your explanation. He balks at the notion, but doesn’t really have a leg to stand on when you pull him even closer to you, holding firm to make sure he doesn’t fall.

♡ His hair tickles your nose each time he shifts about in your arms, which you promptly pat back down as gently as you can as you move towards the door, nudging it open with your hip until you can slide the pair of you through the gap. You make a point of ignoring his protest of staying put until he finally relents and settles into you, arms folded across his chest as he leans back. His hair frames his face like he’s trying to hide in the thick blue flames, but even you don’t miss the fact that his expression, once twisted in discomfort, eases up into something more comfortable now that the pressure’s off of his injured foot.

Malleus

♡ You’d like to think that you’re pretty strong, stronger than people give you credit for at least. And you also like to think that your strength is appreciated by the people who know about your carefully honed skill. Lilia is one such person, as he seems to be particularly amused by just how easily you’re able to heft and move things about, be it both objects and people. He’s especially entertained when it’s people, and it’s because of your penchant for carrying people around to show off that you end up with the third-year student bundled up in your arms as you travel through the Diasomnia dorm.

♡ The only indication the others have of the event is when you promptly come striding into the room, arms wrapped around Lilia's waist and hoisting him effortlessly up into the air as you enter. Malleus looks up from what he’s doing to watch the curious display, and upon spotting the fae you shift Lilia's weight to release one hand and wave, grinning as you swivel around and begin moving towards his direction. You’re keeping the Diasomnia student upright with ease, showing no signs of fatigue or strain as you carry him around, coming to stand behind the sofa that Malleus is sitting on and leaning over with a nonchalant question about what he’s doing.

♡ Malleus raises a brow, unsure whether to answer you or ask what exactly you’re doing with Lilia first. Before he can decide however Lilia gives you a gentle nudge to be let down and you take the hint, proceeding to lean over the sofa and drop him none-too-gently onto the seat beside Malleus. The cushions bounce when he lands on them, and though disheveled from all the carrying and the drop, Lilia looks thoroughly entertained by the whole ordeal,

♡ You catch Malleus glancing between you and Lilia, and though you couldn’t hazard a guess as to what he’s thinking you lean forward and chuckle, jokingly asking “Want me to try you next?” as you rest your arms on the back of the sofa. The smile on your face falters a little when you don’t immediately get a response, locking eyes with him for a few seconds too long. When he nods you have to fight every muscle in your face not to look surprised, and you don’t trust your voice to get the words out in response, instead returning the gesture with a blank nod of your own.

♡ The last thing you expected was for him to agree, but you’re never one to back down from a challenge and soon enough you’re standing face to face with the dragon prince once he stands up and rounds the sofa so that you’re standing in front of each other. You’re doing the mental maths in your head as you size up the dorm head. It’s not picking him up that’s gonna be a problem - you’re pretty sure the Leech twins weigh more than him and you’ve been able to carry both at the same time once before (when Floyd wasn’t intentionally wriggling around in your arms that is.) It’s figuring out the best way to carry him that’s the problem; you’re not sure a fireman carry would be the most dignified look for the dorm head, and just giving him a piggyback probably wouldn’t be too effective if you want to avoid knocking his head against something while you’re running around.

♡ It takes a moment but you don’t leave Malleus standing there for very long before you take a step forward, moving to place a hand on his back while reiterating if it’s okay for you to still do this. The noise of confirmation steels your resolve and in the next moment you quite literally sweep Malleus off of his feet and into the air, landing safely in your arms; he lets out a sharp inhale at the sudden action, but is more surprised at the fact that you’re able to carry him with such ease, even flashing him a confident grin as you begin to sidle around the room, making sure that he remains firmly tucked in your arms as you do so.

♡ The experience is interesting, to say the least - Malleus isn’t uncomfortable, if anything it’s actually rather nice to feel so weightless in someone’s arms. Not to mention it’s not something Malleus has been able to recently experience, so . You on the other hand are having a great time with it; you get used to carrying him quickly, and despite the initial worry of getting stabbed in the face with his horns you realize there’s nothing to worry about - it’s going pretty well.

♡ That is until Sebek enters the room and spots you cradling the young lord in your arms, and he shouts loud enough that you all whip around to face him. You’re undeterred by the shout, if anything you just assume that the first year wants a turn so you gently place Malleus back onto his feet, giving his uniform a cursory once over to make sure he’s okay before you back away. Malleus gives you an inquisitive look, watching you as you skip away, racing over to where Sebek’s standing with arms outstretched ready to scoop him into your arms, laughing when the student all but dives out of your reach the moment you approach him.