#in a battle between book smarts and street smarts

[1indigoisles]

*Annabeth, Percy, and Grover standing in front of a door, trying to open it*

Grover: Let me-

Annabeth: Maybe there's a complex machinery to it. Maybe Hephaestus built it as a test for demigods, if I could just figure it out...

Grover: But wouldn't it be-

Percy: Maybe it's not that complicated. Maybe it's just a normal door and we could just use one of your hairpins to pick the lock. Hand me one, would you?

Grover: I don't think-

Annabeth: I don't have any hairpins, Seaweed Brain. What do you think I am, Aphrodite's kid?

Grover: *fed up at this point* *walks to the door* *pointedly twists the door-knob* *door opens*

Annabeth:

Percy:

[brookghaib-blog]

Whispers of the past

Pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x reader

an: I will be turning this into a story, but i'm still navegating into the turn this will take, i'll warn that this will be more interesting in pt.2, I just wanted to give u a little something :)

Summary: Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro reminisces about his high school days with his lost love, Y/N, who went missing under mysterious circumstances. As he stands on the frontline, memories of their time together haunt him, fueling his determination to protect others and never give up hope.

pt.2

--

Hoshina's pov:

The city lay in ruins, the aftermath of the kaiju attack evident in every shattered building and scorched street. As Vice Captain of the Japan Defense Force, it was my duty to remain vigilant, to lead my team with unwavering resolve. But in the quiet moments between battles, my mind often wandered to a time when life was simpler and love felt eternal.

We were high school sweethearts, Y/N and I. She was the light in my life, her laughter a melody that could brighten even the darkest days. I still remember the first time I saw her, standing by the school gates with a book in her hand, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and warmth.

"Hey, you're in my chemistry class, right?" I had approached her, trying to sound casual despite the nervous flutter in my chest.

She looked up, a smile spreading across her face. "That's right. You're Hoshina Soshiro, the kendo club captain."

"Yeah," I replied, scratching the back of my head. "I was wondering if you wanted to study together sometime. You seem really smart, and I could use all the help I can get."

She laughed, a sound that would become my favorite in the world. "Sure, I'd love to. How about after school today?"

From that moment on, we were inseparable. We spent countless hours studying together, sharing our dreams and fears, finding comfort in each other's presence. Our favorite spot was the old cherry blossom tree in the school courtyard, where we'd sit and watch the petals fall like snow, lost in our own world.

"Soshiro," Y/N said one afternoon, her head resting on my shoulder as we lay beneath the tree. "Do you ever wonder what the future holds for us?"

I squeezed her hand, drawing strength from her touch. "I do. And I know that whatever happens, as long as we're together, we'll be okay."

She smiled, her eyes filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. "Promise me we'll always be there for each other, no matter what."

"I promise," I whispered, sealing our vow with a kiss.

But then, one day, she was gone. Vanished without a trace, leaving a gaping hole in my heart. The days turned into weeks, the weeks into months, and still, there was no sign of her. I threw myself into my training, hoping that by becoming stronger, I could somehow find her, protect her, bring her back.

Years passed, and I rose through the ranks to become Vice Captain, my dedication to the Japan Defense Force unwavering. But the memory of Y/N never faded. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her smile, heard her laughter, felt the warmth of her hand in mine.

As I stood among the ruins, the weight of my responsibilities heavy on my shoulders, I couldn't help but wonder where she was, if she was safe, if she thought of me as often as I thought of her. The not knowing was the hardest part, the uncertainty that gnawed at my soul.

But I held onto hope, clung to the belief that one day, I would find her. Until then, I would fight. For her, for the promise we made, for the future we dreamed of under the cherry blossom tree.

"Y/N," I whispered into the night, the stars above a silent witness to my vow. "I'll find you. No matter how long it takes, no matter where you are, I'll bring you back."

And as the city began to rebuild, as the battle against the kaiju continued, I carried her memory with me, a beacon of light guiding me through the darkness.

[minibatson]

Anyway, I'm back.

Billy headcannon 2

Billy is really smart, he's just also ten and has no formal education past age seven because of homelessness. He's not been in school for three years, and if you put him back in a classroom he would struggle. He's not a Robin, or anything, he can't plan a battle or a stealth mission.

But he is street smart. He could tell the difference between two drugs in a glance and has a brilliant judge of character. He knows how long it's safe to eat foods for once they go mouldy, and he can patch a stab wound with virtually nothing.

If he had gotten to stay in school, I say he would have been a humanities kids. Let this boy write essays on books, and history, and religion. You cannot convince me of anything else.

[lightwing-s]

hii love your work!! you're one of mu favorite blogs atm :D

can i request trying to study late at night, only for jason in his red hood suit to come bother u??

thanks 🥰✨

omg i’m so glad you’ve been liking my stuff, hope me taking this long hasnt made you hate me lol i’m so sorry. but here it is, hope you enjoy 🩷🩷

Exam season was driving you crazy. Exams, essays, projects, all stacked up and taking 100% of your time. And for this, you were wake at 3am on your 100th pomodoro session of the night, fighting a battle with your own body to keep yourself awake.

Concentrated on your text book, you were unaware of your surroundings, of the window slowly being open, and of the giant creeping into your bedroom. It wasn’t until you felt a strong presence at your side, heart speeding up in fear as you slowly turned your head, that you saw the bright red skull of your boyfriend and let out a loud scream in fear.

“Relax, it’s just me” he told you through a laugh, closing your mouth with his large hands. In return, you repeatedly slapped his chest, hardly causing any pain, as Jason’s laugh continued.

“D’you wanna fucking kill me?” you whisper-screamed while he removed his helmet.

“Sorry, you just looked cute, all concentrated and shit.” you rolled your eyes at his compliment, caving in to his sweetness and pecking his lips. “Just this?” Jason complained.

“I have to study.” you explained, but he still threw at you his big puppy eyes. To counter him, you pouted your lips, which he kissed away swiftly and moved to sit behind you on his bed.

“Fine.” he still sounded upset, but he left you to study with a smile planted on your face. Or so you thought, as minutes later you felt something hit your shoulder, and then another.

“Really, Jason?” you turned around to see him pretending to be asleep in your bed, the large smile on his face giving him away. Turning back to your studies, it wasn’t long till you felt him throw something at you again, and again, and again, not caving in to his incessant tries to get your attention.

Suddenly, though, you were being pulled from your desk with your chair and placed between his legs as sat on your bed. “You really can’t be serious about ignoring me.”

“I have to studyyy! I’m so full of stuff, Jay, you can’t even imagine how…”

“I know!” he cut you off, hands holding onto your waist. “But you also need to rest, it helps with retaining information. And you also need to give your boyfriend some attention too, or he’s gonna get upset and go punch bad guys on the streets. You really don’t want to be responsible for that, do you?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his silliness, but there was still so much to do. “I just have two chapters left.” you stared at him innocently. He huffed and spun you back to your desk, kissing your head while complaining.

“Whatever, I’ll just go to sleep.” You watched through the mirror on your wall as Jason stripped down to just his underwear, throwing his pants on your head and going under the blankets, looking all warm and hugging your stuffed frog, Mr. Lollihops.

You tried to focus on your book again, but the sight of your boyfriend all wrapped around your childhood toy was too much to handle. So you fixed your desk, turned off the lights and headed to his arms that he had spread out for you.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me.” he said as you snuggled into his chest.

“If I get a bad grade on the test it’ll be your fault.”

“You’re too smart, you’ll do great.” he kissed your forehead, fixing the blankets around you both. “Besides, the Red Hood can always threaten your professor to give you a better grade.”

Laying there on his chest, eyelids heavy with sleep, his fingers caressing at the nape of your neck, you allowed yourself to forget school, forget the world, and just melt into your boyfriend for the comfort you so wanted that night.

.

a/n: i’m writing this after spending all night awake and bombing my test today. all i wanted was sweet giant jason to hug me to sleep tonight and pretend i don’t have any school work to do.

send me a word or prompt and I'll write you a 200 words blurb x

[drewlover]

annabeth is first introduced to eve at school. her teacher—ms. honey—had given her a bible. no one had told her it was for religious purposes, or that someday the idea of it would be so ridiculous to her, so she just treated it like any other story, another poem-of-sorts to be read and analyzed.

she barely makes it past genesis—there was only so much a six-year-old's attention span could take, no matter how smart the said six-year-old was. perhaps it had felt wrong, too, older forces making the wind cooler and the book harder to read, century-old jealousy rearing its head.

but annabeth was annabeth, and she took on challenges better than most. she finished genesis and gave it back to her teacher.

"eve is like me," is all she says when she gives it back to ms. honey.

ms. honey nods and smiles. "yes, darling. she is a woman, and as brave and beautiful as you will be."

annabeth nods. she doesn't tell ms. honey that the only similarity she's noticed between herself and eve was that eve did not have a mother, either.

-

her father is a good parent. the thing is, annabeth doesn't really know what a good parent is, but her father is kind. he doesn't raise his voice at her, and he smiles absently and nods when she says something. he never forgets to put a side a smaller serving on a smaller plate whenever he eats, even though he barely remembers to.

she tells him about eve, and tells him that she is like her. she doesn't notice the way his hands grip his pen tighter when she says the word 'mother'.

she doesn't understand why her father won't bring her to church, either.

-

annabeth is seven when her mother first speaks to her. she's been on the streets for so long, and she's tired. the spiders keep following. the monsters keep following. she's alone, and so, so hungry.

"annabeth."

the voice is stern—there is no warmth in them. sterile. cool. precise. annabeth looks up.

somehow, she knows. "mother."

her mother looks her up and down, but makes no move to go closer. a cap appears in front of annabeth—old and worn, yet heavy, still. a gift from her mother. she takes it, and her hands tremble.

athena notices. her mouth forms a sneer, but no insult comes out of her mouth. "do me proud," she says instead, like a seven-year-old will understand, like a child will understand.

yet athena still flows through annabeth's veins, and she nods. athena disappears, and there is nothing left—just the slightest ripple of a breeze. the monsters come, still, and the spiders soon follow. athena doesn't come back.

annabeth wonders if her mother gifts her invisibility so that she will never have to see annabeth again.

-

the invisibility cap hasn't worked in over a year. the first time it doesn't work she's caught of guard, and the scorpion hits her on the shoulder, already weakened from the time during the battle of manhattan. it takes the combined force of her, chiron, and will to stop percy from storming olympus and destroying her mother's temple.

"why would she give something just to take it away?" percy asked her, eyebrows furrowed with anger. he's a hurricane in her arm, fingers trembling and veins thrumming.

annabeth doesn't answer, but she knows. this is her mother, telling her that annabeth needs to be seen.

-

annabeth is nineteen years old when she renounces her mother, and the pain is bone deep.

she does it in rome, where her mother had sent her in a fit of anger, sending her daughter to execute her revenge. take back the mark of athena. make your mother proud.

athena had sent her there, a pig raised for slaughter.

she had braved tartarus. the gods, no matter their cruelty, held no power over her now.

her mother had always been one of the crueler ones.

"you renounce me? you dare?"

annabeth could feel her blood thrumming in her veins, threatening to burst out. athena was barely keeping her essence in—annabeth could see her skin burning gold, on the precipice of shifting to her godly form. everything was blurring around the edges—athena was barely holding on to her disguise. despite everything, she refuses to incinerate annabeth. a small act of mercy.

"yes mother. i dare." she could feel the blood soaking her teeth, could taste it's metallic tang on her tongue. the air grew hotter.

"you would not have me on your side. you will never gain back my alliance, annabeth. do you dare?"

annabeth laughed, and somewhere she knew dionsyus was chuckling in delight at the traces of insanity in it. blood trickled down her chin and onto the ground, but it did not sizzle. the blood wasn't an offering to athena. it was an act of defiance.

athena's most successful warrior—whose blood no longer belonged to her.

"very well," athena said eyes flashing gold. "you are no longer my daughter. greek land will reject your blood. no longer will you be accepted into our world, and no longer will you be mine."

annabeth felt the bones in both her legs crack, but she refused to let out the scream of anguish struggling to be let out of her throat. refused to give athena the satisfaction of knowing that this hurt her as much as it hurt the goddess.

all at once the goddess disappeared, and annabeth was left alone in the middle of rome.

she looked up. it was a church, and it was beautiful.

eve looked down at her, with her frightened eyes and trembling hands wrapped around the apple.

the apple that had gifted her knowledge. the apple that had taken away everything from eve. the apple that had gifted humanity freedom.

annabeth had never been more like her.

[ask-the-koopa-kingdom]

can we get a bit of info about each kid?

[YAPPING TIME, LETS GO!!! - OP]

In addition to the info presented here:

Larry has the least amount of abilities in comparison to his siblings. With only fire breathing and magic blasts, Larry has to get creative in battle. He'd actively practice to get better at magic... if he had the level of commitment required. As mentioned in the first post, he started the ask blog to avoid problems with press - but it's also because he adores any attention he can get. Makes him feel special (T▽T)

Lemmy and Larry are birds of a feather.

Larry could be considered the weakest of the seven, but Lemmy is undoubtedly the smallest. The two hang out more than anything, and can always rely on each other when they need company.

In addition to fire breathing and magic blasts, Lemmy is capable of casting illusions and summoning those silly circus balls he can run over opponents with. A feat achievable with an enhanced balance and acrobatic support in comparison to the others.

Morton is more complicated than he seems. What he lacks in intelligence he makes up for in compassion and perception. Streets smarts rather than book smarts. He can tell when something is wrong much faster than the others and is quick to act on it. He's even quicker to put himself in between those he loves and any trouble.

At the moment, he's struggling with anxiety surrounding that specifically. A hunch that there's a danger lurking, ready to attack if he doesn't keep an eye out. (It's not exactly an unfounded one, it's come up after the events of Bowser Jr's Journey where he and his siblings were forced under mind control... that'd make anybody a little worried.)

Only time will tell if he's actually right on this hunch.

(There was this sighting, but... not really reliable)

Similar to Roy, he's one of the strongest Koopalings (he knows this), as such, barely needs to use magic in battle instead of his brute force. So, he thinks learning to use it is a waste of time.

Iggy is EXTREMELY hyperactive, and loud. If there's one thing he doesn't have, it's any lack of intelligence. He's the fastest Koopaling, and prides himself on being a genius (though mad genius is a better way to put it).

His impulsivity can bar him from making the BEST decisions, but his own unpredictability gives him a leg up when required.

Owns a pet Chain Chomp named Chompi, who he treats like a pitbull named Princess. (Most accurate description of that thing as he is GLAD to sic on either unsuspecting plumber).

Wendy is sweet, but extremely cunning. She uses that sweetness to get whatever she wants out of someone, almost imperceptively, whether that be a chat, sweets, or information. (She understands the saying "You'll catch more flies with honey rather than vinegar" and by god does she USE IT.)

She does use magic, moreso for convenience rather than a true desire to learn. She's content with what she knows already. (Sometimes she wishes she could use hypnosis though...)

Good Lord, Roy. On the outside, a tough guy. On the inside, reasons upon reasons to be that way. Dude has layers.

He's a believer in tough love, as such, isn't as outwardly affectionate towards any of his siblings - however, he will still defend them just as fiercely in the event of an emergency.

One of his most important dislikes is the dislike of press

(This one's actually shown up from as far back as the intro post!)

He considers news reporters to be vultures waiting to use something against him and his family. (This is due to a past experience out of canon that's kind of tainted his view on all sorts of press entirely. And makes his relationship with this ask blog pretty complicated too...)

Ludwig has similar beliefs to Roy (Tough love and all that) but he can't help but be a BIT affectionate here and there. However, he's barely had the time due to what he's been doing on his day to day. He keeps a very tight schedule, training at every opportunity he gets, whether it be magic, or hand-to-hand combat, and as mentioned previously, barely sleeps. Not for the best reasons, either. He doesn't have the same anxiety Morton does that something bad's coming their way. He just wants to prove to someone (and himself) that he's the best at what he does.

[If you guys need more specific info, pls ask, these are practically the basics - OP]

[ofliterarynature]

TBR TAKEDOWN: Week 6 (July 7)

TLDR: I have too many unread books, and I’m asking tumblr to help me downsize. Pick one or none, and comment if you can - a convincing sentence is worth a dozen votes! You’re also welcome to just choose the one that sounds the worst :D Book descriptions below the cut, see my pinned post for more info.

The Affinity Bridge by George Mann

Welcome to the bizarre and dangerous world of Victorian London, a city teetering on the edge of revolution. Its people are ushering in a new era of technology, dazzled each day by new inventions. Airships soar in the skies over the city, whilst ground trains rumble through the streets and clockwork automatons are programmed to carry out menial tasks in the offices of lawyers, policemen and journalists.

But beneath this shiny veneer of progress lurks a sinister side. For this is also a world where ghostly policemen haunt the fog-laden alleyways of Whitechapel, where cadavers can rise from the dead and where Sir Maurice Newbury, Gentleman Investigator for the Crown, works tirelessly to protect the Empire from her foes.

When an airship crashes in mysterious circumstances, Sir Maurice and his recently appointed assistant Miss Veronica Hobbes are called in to investigate. Meanwhile, Scotland Yard is baffled by a spate of grisly murders and a terrifying plague is ravaging the slums of the city.

So begins an adventure quite unlike any other, a thrilling steampunk mystery and the first in the series of "Newbury & Hobbes" investigations.

Collected Ghost Stories by M.R. James

Considered by many to be the most terrifying writer in English, M. R. James was an eminent scholar who spent his entire adult life in the academic surroundings of Eton and Cambridge. His classic supernatural tales draw on the terrors of the everyday, in which documents and objects unleash terrible forces, often in closed rooms and night-time settings where imagination runs riot. Lonely country houses, remote inns, ancient churches or the manuscript collections of great libraries provide settings for unbearable menace, from creatures seeking retribution and harm. These stories have lost none of their power to unsettle and disturb.

This edition presents all of James's published ghost stories, including the unforgettable Oh, Whistle and I'll Come to You, My Lad and Casting the Runes, and an appendix of James's writings on the ghost story. Darryl Jones's introduction and notes provide a fascinating insight into James's background and his mastery of the genre he made his own.

Love Bites by Ry Herman

Angela likes Chloe. Chloe likes Angela. It should be simple enough - there's just the small matter of Angela's aversion to sunlight. And crosses. And mirrors . . .

In 1998, Angela was a smart, gothy astronomy student ­- until her then-girlfriend accidentally turned her into a vampire. A year later, she divides her time between her post-graduate degree (working on it in a dark, basement room, and only at night) and controlling her need for human blood.

Then she meets lonely but wryly humorous slush-pile reader Chloe, who's battling demons of her own. Chloe's anxiety and depression can make it hard for her to leave the house, while memories of her ex haunt her at night.

As sparks fly and romance blooms, Angela and Chloe struggle to hide their difficulties from each other - but sometimes the only way out is to let someone else in.

[dearwriters]

Hi there.

I was wondering if you have any advice on balancing an ensemble cast? As in, how do you manage having, say, 6 pov characters without the reader getting bored, impatient, or forgetting a character until it's a chapter of theirs again?

Thank you for the work you do :)

How to Balance an Ensemble Cast

Hey, thank you for your question! While I personally do not have a lot of experience writing ensemble casts, I think the following points would be helpful to consider when planning/writing one:

Getting into the characters Point of View: Lenses and Distinct Voices

One of the most important things about Multi-POV-narratives is to give each character a distinct voice so they don't just bleed into each other. This concerns:

a) the content of their narration: Ask yourself: What is this characters "lense", their specific frame of reference through which they see the events? This can depend on their background, their interests, knowledge, viewpoint etc. How do they see the world differently than the others? Try to imprint the narration of the POVs with the characters personality, especially if you are writing in first person. A very sarcastic character would view the same events quite differently as a very optimistic, bubbly character. Different characters would notice different things. This can be established by something as simple as focus points: maybe an artistic character narrates a lot about the colours around them and a detective character is very perceptive about peoples body language or stuff like that. Maybe the soldier is focused on battle strategies and the details of their surroundings, all while their love-interest is focused on them.

b) the form of their narration: Best case szenario, you would be able to identify who is talking, just based on their voice. This should be noticable in dialouge but also in narration. A very academic character would maybe use a slightly different vocabulary than a character who's more about street smarts. How do their speech patterns correlate to their person and background? Another example: In the popular contemporary novel "The Flatshare" one of the POV characters isn't really talkative. The author chose to reflect that in their narration via a fragmented narration style, using as little adjectives and full sentences as possible, while still keeping things readable. You can find more information about Character Voice in this post.

Overall, when it comes to differentiating between POVs, ask yourself: How can the personality, believes and expertise of a character affect the way they see the world and thus the way they narrate?

Anchoring your Scene

This is a little tip I picked up from the YouTube channel of author Sacha Black (great writing advice, check her out!). Multiple POVs can be quite challenging, especially if there are time/place jumps between the POVS. Thus, to not confuse your reader, it is important to quickly establish who is talking, where they are and when they are. Person, place, time. This needs to be clear so the reader isn't lost (unless it's your goal to confuse your reader, which would certainly be a valid goal). In some books the chapter header indicates POV, which is a very quick and easy way to establish at least one of those factors, but there are other ways to do this.

Making every POV count

If you want to avoid your readers being bored or even skipping POVs it's important to actually have a distinct reason of evers POV to exist. Thus, everybody needs a piece of the puzzle for the plot. Just like in the point about lenses and voices, you can use the differnt personalities, backgrounds and knowledges of your characters to let them uncover and drive different pieces of the story. Every POV character needs a reason to be here and a way to contribute.

Having multiple POVs is actually a great way to create tension, because the reader will know a lot of information not every character knows. It's the old Hitchcock-principle of letting the reader know about a bomb under the table the characters don't know anything about. Use the distribution and retention of information to your advantage.

Furthermore, everyone needs their own character arcs. A compelling character is all abouts goals, motivations and conflicts (more about the whole "GMC"-concept in this post) that tie them to the bigger story as well as having their own wants and needs (check out this post if you like) plus having flaws and the corresponding concequences (more about that in this post).

Those are just some of the big things I'd recommend you to think about. I hope this helped!

Have fun writing!

[howaboutcastiel]

That One Angsty Fic (Moon Boys)

Summary: It doesn’t always make sense, but some days are just bad ones. Sometimes you’re your own worst enemy, and it takes losing a battle with yourself to see that. Marc, Steven, and Jake are able to see it, even if you can’t at first. 

Author’s Note: This fic was originally supposed to end differently. Writing it was therapeutic for me, and the ending was also supposed to be, but revelations in therapy and changes in medications have made things different. Just… it exists. 

Content Warning: ⚠️ Mental illness, sensory overload, anxiety and panic attacks, self harm ideation, self harm (cutting), suicidal language/suggestiveness, kinda graphic depiction. Other stuff I don’t know how to tag, just generally take caution. Hopeful ending. 

Word Count 7.3k

Sometimes rabbit holes are hard to climb out of.

Sitting at your desk alone, waiting for your boys to come home, it was easy to dig yourself deeper. The cars on the street below you were too loud. The overhead lights were too bright and the draft from the windows was far too strong. The inclination to sink into your own thoughts was hard to resist, especially since you didn’t realize you were doing it.

Today really fucking sucks. I feel like I can’t do anything. I can’t eat right, I can’t sleep right, and I certainly can’t do my schoolwork correctly. I’m overdue on returning a library book and I haven’t scheduled that very important meeting with my advising professor. Everything is working out and my life is going dandy right now, but holy fucking shit do I feel like a massive failure.

They always say to reach out for help. The professionals say “you have people who love you, they want you to come to them.” God if that isn’t further from the truth. Sure, my mom told me she was proud of me yesterday, even after I told her I can’t graduate with honors like I planned to do. Sure, my friends tell me all the time that I’m funny and smart, but they’re just being nice to me. They don’t like making fun of people. Maybe my grandma cried the other day over the phone because I’m the only grandchild who calls to ask how she’s doing, but I’m just doing what I’m supposed to do.

I’m the bare minimum. I feel like I'm at the bottom of the barrel. I’ll never live up to my potential or to the expectations of the people that I love.

I don’t even think that I’m enough for Steven anymore.

If I’m not enough for him, then I really have nothing at all, don’t I? There’s no question either, if I’m too much of a fuck up for him, I’m certainly not good enough for Marc or even Jake. Hell, the way I’m performing right now, Jake Lockley probably wouldn’t even give me the time of day.

Rabbit holes are hard to climb out of, especially when you’re alone.

There wasn’t anything in particular that made today worse than any of the others. By some metrics, in fact, it was a very good day. You had gotten an A on your midterm exam. You’d found a twenty-dollar bill inside of your coat pocket. Hell, someone had even left your favorite dessert in the break room, and you’d gotten to eat a serving of it between class and work. It should have been a good day, but it just wasn’t.

That’s the thing that people don’t understand about being ill. It’s just that: an illness. It doesn’t matter how much you eat healthy, or how much you exercise. It doesn’t matter how much meditation you do or how much you write in your diary or how much you pray to God—sometimes a day is just going to suck. It’s not rational, or even understandable, but that’s the truth of the matter. Sometimes sick people just… feel sick.

Steven understood that. So did Marc, and so did Jake. If there was anything in this world that they did understand, it’s that sometimes a person can be their own worst enemy. They understood that it wasn’t your fault, and they understood that some days were harder than others. The compassion that you couldn’t have for yourself? Well, they somehow always managed to have it.

You were convinced, though, that they wouldn’t have it today.

This has to be the final straw for them, doesn’t it? They’re going to come home and the dishes won’t be done, the laundry will still be dirty, and there won’t even be dinner on the table for them to eat. I’m going to have to tell them I don’t have a reason for it. I didn’t get it done only because I’m lazy and the lights were too bright. They’re going to laugh at me. They’re going to hate me.

Steven Grant is going to hate me.

I think maybe that’s what I deserve. He's so much more than me, isn’t he? They all are. They’ve been through so much, and yet they’re so strong and so wise. Steven is so kind. But look at me. I’m not… any of those things, am I? I’m all the wrong things. Too big, too awkward, too stupid. I’m not enough for him. I’m not enough for any of them, and I think maybe today they’re going to realize that. I don’t know if I can handle that.

It was half-past seven now. Steven would be coming home from his shift any moment. Or someone would. Whoever was fronting tonight didn’t really matter. It was all going to end the same way, you were convinced. You moved from the desk, tired of the weight on your back, and curled yourself up on the floor of the study. It wasn’t exactly a screaming and crying kind of panic, but it was still panic.

Why can’t I just do more? Why can’t I get up and get all of these chores done, right here and right now? Nothing’s stopping me. I know exactly what to do, I’ve done all of this a million times or more. It’s the easiest thing in the world to do. Why can’t I just get up and do it?

It wasn’t just that, though. How much easier it would have been if it was, but it wasn’t.

Why can’t I do anything right? I can’t even be sad right. Why can’t I cry? Maybe they would understand if I was crying. God, what if they yell at me? I don’t know what to do if they yell at me. Please don’t yell at me. Just get up and do the damn chores. Just do something. Do something.

They’re going to yell at me.

This is all so pathetic. I’m being dramatic, but I don’t know what else to do. I feel like I’m coming out of my skin. I feel like I’m ready to explode or implode or just wither away. I feel like I shouldn’t be feeling like this. I can’t stop it, though, and it makes me feel like I’m insane. I feel like I’m out of control. I want to feel in control. I want to be in control.

I want to be in control. How do I take back control?

You heard the familiar footsteps coming down the hall, instinctively curling in on yourself a little bit more. You had memorized the sound and usually it brought you a warm and welcoming feeling. Today, though, it only made your pounding heart sink deeper into your chest. You braced yourself resignedly for the yelling and anger, or at the very least for the disappointment. Honestly, you didn’t know which one of them was worse.

It was Marc Spector who walked through the front door of the apartment. Admittedly, you couldn’t tell that he was at the front just by his body language, but luckily the boys were used to announcing themselves as they came through the door. It made things easier, and they knew that it comforted you.

“Hey, baby,” he started, the keys clinking in his hands as the door latched shut behind him. He was the only one who called you that. “I didn’t mean to be so late, but we got distracted on the walk home. Why’re you sitting in the dark? Are you here?”

You didn’t have the energy to answer him. Well, you had the energy, but you didn’t have the confidence. That, and you couldn’t really find your voice under all of the panic. Your tongue was too heavy in your mouth, and you were nauseous. You feared if you opened your mouth, it wouldn’t be words that came spilling out. Marc ventured further inside and finally spotted you, hugging your knees in the space between the desk and the wardrobe. He tilted his head and widened his eyes in concern, and you could feel the heat on your face.

“You okay?” He furrowed his brows when you didn’t answer him. You could only look up at him, breathing slowly around the lump in your throat, and you wanted to bury your head right back into your knees when you saw the look on his face. Of course he was going to be concerned, and you were going to have to tell him he had no reason to be. It didn’t make sense for it to be so difficult, though. Why couldn’t you just make yourself speak up? It was the simplest thing.

“Did something happen?” His voice was low and little, and you managed to shake your head at his question. Some other feeling was fighting the paralysis now that he was here, but it wasn’t a good feeling. You could feel the tears welling in your eyes. “No? Well, are you hurt?”

Again, you shook your head. It was technically true, right? You weren’t hurt. You couldn’t really even pinpoint what was wrong with you. He pressed his lips into a thin line, surveying your body for any signs of damage. He found none, so Marc brought his hand up to touch your arm and you instinctively cowered away. You felt guilty as soon as you did it, but you couldn’t bear the thought of the pressure on your skin.

“I don’t know how to help, baby.”

That was what made the tears start to slowly stream. You didn’t feel the need to sob or choke, just to press your nose between your knees and hide your face from him as it contorted into a crying mess. For him to understand, you knew that you had to say something. It was just so hard to get anything out.

“I didn’t do the dishes,” you mumbled. Your admittance confused him and he moved to sit down across from you. You fought back a sob that tried to erupt from your throat. Hearing it out loud, you could understand how your words didn’t quite clear things up for him. “I didn’t do the laundry, either, and I haven’t made dinner.”

“Okay?” He almost laughed, but he could see anguish that you were in, so he stifled it. Marc waited for you to explain yourself further. It became clear you were having trouble with that, so he began to think meticulously through his answer.

“I’m sorry.” A sob broke around your words, but they were still unmistakable. His face twisted again into confusion and something that looked like offense. You hoped it wasn’t that.

“Why are you sorry?” he asked. That was a hard question for you to answer.

“I should have done it by now. I should have finished it all. You should be able to come home to a clean apartment and a warm meal, and I said that I would do it. I should have done it.”

The self-inflicted misogyny aside, he was shocked by your statement. Marc understood the mindset of having to please your housemates. When he was a child, skipping his chores meant more than just a few words of disappointment from his mom. But this wasn’t that. Marc had never, never yelled at you before, and he certainly didn’t expect you to do all of his housework for him. You were partners. You shared the responsibility.

“Honey, they’re just chores,” he tried to explain. He couldn’t imagine exactly where you were coming from, but he’d talked you down from enough panic attacks to at least know where he should start. “It’s okay. It’s not a big deal, and we can order take-out for dinner.”

You felt stupid. He wasn’t even mad, and you’d made such a big deal out of all of it. Of course he wasn’t going to yell at you. Marc would never yell at you. None of them would. You should feel relieved now, right? But you didn’t feel relieved. You just felt stupid.

“You with me?” He peered into your eyes with nothing but genuine softness. You couldn’t resist that look, not even in the state you were in. So, you pretended for him.

You nodded.

“Good. Come on, let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”

Marc took your hands into his and helped you to your feet. Your limbs were stiff from sitting like that, and your chest was heavy from all of the worry. He gently led you over to the couch, coaxing you to sit down and pulling a throw blanket from the shelf under the coffee table. You shuddered as he opened it and tossed it over you. He noticed that you were shaking.

“I’m gonna order dinner, okay? You need to eat something.” Marc moved to pull his phone out of his coat pocket. You didn’t really feel hungry, more nausea than anything filling your gut right now. “I think that you’ll feel better after that.”

You put on a brave, numb face for the rest of the evening. Well, for the next little while, at least. Marc ordered one of your favorite meals for dinner, making sure to buy so much that you would have leftovers. He wasn’t too great of a cook himself, so he was used to ordering out after a long or busy day. When the food finally came, you nibbled at it just enough to prove to him that you were trying. It tasted pretty good, but you couldn’t be sure you would keep it down, and the thought of swallowing just made you shudder some more.

After a while, Marc had decided that you looked calm enough. He let Steven take control of the body once he finished his meal, the tiring day having weighed on him, too. He made sure to warn his alter to keep tabs on you, noting how you seemed to be having a particularly rough day. Steven had no problem with that, as he was more than happy to give you his attention no matter the circumstances.

He didn’t exactly know what he was getting himself into.

When dinner was done and you’d convinced Steven that you really couldn’t eat any more, he packaged the rest of your food in heat-safe boxes. He also did the dishes, which he meant as a gesture of affection. Steven didn’t realize that his simple act of service would send you farther down the spiral.

Now you felt guilty. Not only had you failed to do the housework you’d promised you would, but now he was picking up your slack. To you, that was just unacceptable. I’m so much more trouble than I’m worth, you thought. Maybe they were just dishes, but they felt like so much more than that to you. They were a symbol of your failure, a symbol of all of the good things that he was and the bad things that you were, and why you could never be deserving of him.

The familiar urge started to bubble in your chest. You knew you should have said something the minute you felt it, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to, not in the middle of the spiral that you’d already begun. It always started as a spike of energy, an ironically paralyzing energy, and a buzzing in your skin. From there, it would grow and evolve and mutate into something else. It was an urge to self-destruct, to punish yourself and gain control. It didn’t make any sense, not in the slightest, and it surely didn’t make sense now, but such was the nature of being ill.

It didn’t have to make sense. It just had to be.

You felt the heat draining from your body as you watched him pass the plates from the sink to the drying rack. The shivering was only beginning, and you knew already that nothing would help you get warm. Not a blanket, not a hug, not a piping hot cup of tea. This was the kind of chill that ran further than skin-deep. The sensation grew outward from your chest. It made you want to press your palms into your eyes and scratch at your skin until it was raw. A lump was starting to thicken in your throat, your saliva becoming too thick to swallow.

I can’t believe I’m letting them baby me like this. I should be taking care of him, not the other way around. They must be so tired of coddling me like this. I wonder if they think I’m too sensitive. They must think that. I am too sensitive. It’s a matter of time before they get enough of it and kick me to the curb. It must be. I just wish I could stop. I have to stop.

Steven was turned away from you, intently focused on the task at hand. He didn’t notice how you had gone pale. He had a chore to complete. He wasn’t one to leave a dish half-washed, so he had to meticulously scrub each plate until he was sure it was clean.

He’s even better than me at this. What else do I have to offer him?

You pulled yourself up from your seat at the table, making sure to drag the legs of the chair against the wood just enough to alert him to the movement. You shuffled over to the couch as he finished up at the sink. When you clicked the power button on the TV remote, it flashed on to reveal some old sitcom you weren’t interested in seeing. It would look normal, though, when Steven dried his hands and emerged from the kitchen to join you. He would think that you were okay, and that was a good thing. You didn’t want him to think that you weren’t okay.

“Can I join?” Steven meekly asked as you scuffled to one side of the couch to make room for him. He was wearing a soft expression that made you feel like he saw you as fragile. He looked away from you as he sat down. “I think I might stay up a bit tonight. I want to read this new book I got about Neferefre.”

“What is that?” You prompted him, knowing you were opening the conversation to a classic Steven Grant infodump. If you looked interested and you got him to start talking, he wouldn’t even notice how much of a mess you’d been today—and how much of a mess you were now.

Steven began his little spiel. The man he spoke of was apparently one of the pharaohs of Egypt, a prince who ascended to the throne and died young. You watched his face light up as he told you about the man. It wasn’t uncommon of him to lose himself entirely in his little stories about ancient Egyptian history. He would speak for hours if you let him, which was a relief, because you certainly didn’t know how to fill any gaps of silence. Steven’s eyes widened and glistened as he went on, touting knowledge to you that would impress even the most prestigious academics of the subject. 

His smile was such a pure and innocent thing. Steven was proud of himself, as he very well should have been, and he was happy that someone was here for him to share his knowledge with. It put into perspective for you just how much you didn’t compare. He was a living, breathing encyclopedia. A life-long researcher who would pour his heart and soul into the subjects he loved. In contrast, you were just going through the motions. You had reached your last semester of your undergrad, but you had no passion at all for your major anymore. Maybe you would get some fancy latin honor at your graduation, but you were by no means a good student, and you sure as hell weren’t an expert on the subject. 

Why can’t I just stop myself from spiraling? Why can’t I just be someone that he deserves?

It was getting to the point where you were afraid that the feeling in your chest was going to start boiling over. Your skin was on fire and you were covered in a thin layer of icy sweat that did nothing to calm you. You wanted to curl into a ball and rip out your hair. You wanted to rock yourself back and forth with your head between your knees, and you wanted most of all to take yourself apart piece by delicate piece. 

The urge was almost overwhelming. You had managed to hide this part of yourself from them for your entire relationship up to this point. Marc had his suspicions about your behavior in the past and Steven had noticed your sensitivity and lapses in communication, but neither of them had ever been there with you when you had an episode of self harm. You’d been in recovery when you first started dating them, and you’d only broken your clean streaks on occasions where they weren’t around. They didn’t really know what to look for and they didn’t know how close to the edge you really were. 

You were very, very close to it. 

Steven blinked at you confusedly. He’d asked you a question, apparently, and you’d failed to hear it over the pounding thud of your heartbeat inside of your ears. There was no denying that you’d spaced out while talking to him, no pretending your mind wasn’t clearly somewhere far away from here. He raised his eyebrows at you as you widen your gaze and pressed your lips together, pulling yourself back to him. 

“Sorry, I just have had a long day, love,” you tried to deflect his unyielding inclination to peer into you. Steven Grant was a caregiver, an innate protector of those who were mentally vulnerable, and you certainly fit that category right now, but you would be damned if you let him baby you. Or, god forbid, worry about you. “I wanted to hear about your Pharoah guy, but I think I’m too tired to take it all in.”

You hoped he would ignore the fact that, despite your words, you seemed to be vibrating with nervous energy. The last thing you’d ever want to do was make Steven worry. You hoped to God that he couldn’t see the panic rising within you, stirring up the familiar frenzy in your limbs and enticing you to have a rendezvous with your razor in the bathroom. 

He scooped you into his arms, pressing around you with a calming strength that almost touched the chill underneath your skin. Your body was half-limp as Steven encased you in a sturdy hug. He nuzzled his face into your neck and he breathed you in with an exhausted sigh. 

“It’s alright. I’ll talk about him later.” Steven hummed into your skin, no doubt just as tired as Marc had been. “I’m sorry about your long day. It’s okay now, though. You can just relax with me.”

Guilty. Stupid. 

“Okay. Thank you, baby.” You swallowed hard and dipped your head into his chest. Steven’s grip around you was strong, but casual. To him, as far as you could tell, you appeared to be doing just fine. A little tired, a little shaky, but overall just fine. That was a good thing, right? You were glad to not be worrying him. But some primal part of you was screaming to tell him you needed his help. You suppressed that part—it was bound to make things worse for you both. 

There was silence for a little while. The television droned on, drawing small, breathy laughs from Steven and smiles from you in response to his laughs. The beating of his heart against your ear served to chip slowly away at your unease, dampening the pounding in your head. The pressure in your chest released bit by bit. The unspeakable urge fizzled out from your hands just a little. You finally were starting to feel like you could breathe normally, when a stray thought drew Steven away from the telly. 

“When you did laundry today,” the words shot hot iron spikes through your ribcage. You froze in place, “did you happen to see my green button-up? The one with the stripes. I was going to wear it tomorrow to the museum holiday party, but I couldn’t find it when I looked this morning.”

How could you respond to him? You’d have to tell him it wouldn’t be clean in time for the party. You hadn’t washed it. You had not even touched the laundry today, in fact. You’d come home from work a few hours ago and plopped right down at your desk, wasting the evening away instead of doing the chores that you’d promised. 

“I’m sorry,” you began. His lips turned downward into a puzzled grimace. “The laundry isn’t done. I don’t know if your shirt is in there, but if it is, it’s not clean. You won’t be able to wear it tomorrow.”

“Oh.” His face remained as puzzled as it was, now tinged with disappointment as well. You couldn’t live with his disapproval, no matter how much your body and mind seemed incapable of performing correctly. 

“But I can go wash it right now! It will be ready by morning if I start a load—”

“No, no. Don’t worry about it, darling. It’s late, and it’s just a shirt. I can wear something else to the party. God knows Donna won’t appreciate the effort I put into my outfit anyway.” He bore an uneven smile and grazed the back of your neck with his hand, pushing your head back down to rest on his chest. 

The coil around your heart re-tightened. 

You laid in his arms as long as you could manage to sit still. Soon enough, the shaking of your bones and the pounding in your chest was so strong that it would be noticeable if you continued to sit in his grasp. So, with a shy cough and a fake, lopsided smile, you excused yourself to the bathroom. 

Stupid. 

Stupid. Stupid! Stupid! You couldn’t believe the way you were behaving. Why couldn’t you just be normal for one single day? Why did you have to worry your boys, why did you have to be so miserable, and why did your heart still threaten to beat right out of your chest even though Steven had held you in his arms and told you everything was okay? Stupid. So fucking stupid and pathetic and whiny and stupid. 

You could feel the ice trickling down your spine, sinking into the curves of your ribs and clenching your muscles tense. The heat of your anger—at yourself and at the world, but mostly at yourself—did nothing to warm the deep chill in your bones. 

Be fucking useful for once. 

The sound of the electricity was too loud, the light coming under the door too bright. You banged your open palms against your head, curling them into fists and pounding harder when the noise only grew more irritating. Your breathing was rapid and empty, silent tears streamed down your face. Your knuckles drummed against your skull forcefully, over and over and over again, until the action was automatic and numb. 

Stop being a burden. Stop being stupid. Steven has been through more shit than you ever will have gone through. You’re a useless fucking partner to him. Stop wasting space. 

The dull knocking against your head wasn’t nearly enough. The seething inside your bones demanded something more. Something urgent and strong. You grew tired of the motion and lowered your hands, leaning into the dizzying soreness at the sides of your scalp. Your heart began to calm, unbeknownst to the agony in the rest of your body. 

Stop wasting space. 

You clutched the vanity. Your now-raw knuckles were white and the room was spinning. Maybe if you’d eaten more, you’d feel the need to throw up. 

Stop taking up space. 

The way that your hand rose to the medicine cabinet made you feel like an observer inside your own skin. For a passing, ever-so tiny moment, you wondered if this was what Jake felt. What Marc felt. Was this what Steven Grant felt when he wasn’t in control?

No, surely not. This was you taking control. 

You weren’t one to show yourself mercy. Even in something like this, where mercy was a severely relative term. The thoughtful thing to have done would have been to grab your razor from the shelf, or taken one of Steven’s replacement razors from the pack beside the mouthwash. A sharp, unyielding weapon for a clean, quick punishment. You didn’t want to cut yourself open, though. That would be too generous, too easy. 

You didn’t want something smooth, something to leave  pretty and even stripes in delicate skin, like guiding lines on an empty notebook sheet. No, you didn’t want to cut yourself deep. This was visceral, personal. You wanted to rip yourself apart. 

From the top shelf, you grabbed the old and rusty scissors that you had left in the bathroom for your spur-of-the-moment haircuts and for cutting tags off of new clothes. They were dull and awkward and hardly able to cut warm butter at this point, which is exactly what you were going for. 

Stop. Being. Stupid. 

You didn’t know if it made you feel better or made you feel worse, but it made you feel. Digging the blade into your skin, jabbing the open edge into your thigh after pulling parallel strokes on your forearms, it made you feel more in-control than you had all day. It was intoxicating. It was all-consuming. Before you knew it, you had fallen into a trance of sorts and the repetition was only halted by the realization that you had to breathe eventually. 

A sharp breath in. Pain. A slow, shaky exhale. Stupid. A stifled cough, a desperate sucking in of air. Useless. A wheezing huff, like a deflating balloon. 

Tired. 

The blade slipped away from your hand and clattered unenthusiastically onto the floor. There wasn’t nearly as much blood as there could have been. Your teeth chattered, and now, despite having barely grazed dinner, you feared that you might up-chuck. A low groan tumbled out of your lungs as you crouched over the toilet bowl, thick red streams trickling down to the creases of your skin. You heaved once, then twice, then the vague remnants of your dinner were out of your stomach and the pressure against your chest forced a cry from your lips. 

You sighed, flushed, and slumped into a weak puddle on the tile. There was a knock at the door. 

“Darling?”

No. No. No no no nononono. What did I do? Your mind was racing and your heart had re-started its blunt assault on the inside of your ribs, but your limbs were like jello. Your tongue was like sand. He can’t see me like this! 

“You sound like you’re sick. Was it the dinner, love? Let me hold your hair back, at least.”

He can’t see me like this. I can’t do that to him. But you couldn’t move, either. You could barely keep your eyes open. You tried to yell at him to go away, but your lungs were too heavy to muster more than a hoarse whisper. That was if you could even get your lips to part. 

Guilty. 

You could hear Steven’s breath rattle on the other side of the door. “You’re worrying me. I’m going to open the door now, yeah? Don’t mean to pry, of course, but sure as I don’t, you’ll have hit your head on the sink or something and be out cold—”

He’d turned the knob on the bathroom door—the stupid old thing never did lock correctly, you’d been meaning to get that fixed—and pushed his way inside, only to stop dead in his tracks the moment he saw you. 

Your pale and shaking hands clenched your knees, blood lazily tricking into your elbow’s crease and tapping the floor in a steady drip. It wasn’t nearly an amount of blood loss to be worried about, but that didn’t matter to him. There was blood dripping onto the floor, and it was coming from you. Steven’s color drained from his face as he watched the forming puddle for a moment. He didn’t move, his eyes wide and his mouth agape, and his hand still lingering on the doorknob. After a few seconds, he gathered a shaky breath and broke his gaze away. 

“What happened?” 

His voice was whining, panicky. You could see sweat beading on his forehead as he knelt across from you. He trailed his hand up your arm, looking for the incisions that were causing the flow. His fingers were careful not to touch the long, parallel slits that ran up toward your wrists. You heard a breathless whimper leave his lips as he pulled your arms up, revealing the jagged, shallow puncture wounds in your thighs that looked just as bad. 

“Darling, what happened?” He was more urgent now, his voice louder and demanding. “Are you hearing me?”

He grabbed the nearest towel from the shelf under the sink, wrapping it around the wrist closest to him and pressing the other one underneath. Steven’s breathing was shallow and his eyes danced rapidly between your forearms, your thighs, and your face. Try as you might, you couldn’t keep your eyes focused on him. It was all that you could do to keep them open at all. He continued pleading with you, but his voice was distant in your head. 

Tired. 

“What have you done?” You didn’t know if his intention was for you to answer. “Why did you—what did you do to yourself? I don’t understand. I don’t… I don’t…” 

His breath was quickening. You tried to pull your head together, to ignore the pounding in your skull and force your eyes to work. Weakly, you wiggled your fingers. If they could move, perhaps the rest of you could as well. Your tongue was as heavy as lead in your mouth, but you forced it up anyway. The wheezing breath you drew caught his attention immediately. 

“I’m sorry.” The tears that had welled in his eyes began spilling over, painting his cheeks as he tried desperately to blink them out of the way. Steven wrung a towel under the sink as you drew another gasp. “You weren’t supposed to see.”

“Why?” He scoffed and you shook your head. The dull thump in your head was winning out. Words were failing you. Apparently they were failing him to, as he couldn’t muster much more than “I don’t understand.”

You had done this enough to know it would take a few minutes for the bleeding to stop. Nothing was deep enough for stitches, though the divots on your legs would threaten to scar for sure. Steven grew more distressed, though, as the seconds ticked forward and the wounds refused to wipe clean. Firm and steady pressure seemed to be too slow a solution and panic was painted plainly on his face. 

You felt the need to explain to him. You had to make him understand. 

“I had to do it.” He held his breath as you began to speak. Steven looked terrified. “I deserve this. It feels… right. I had to. I had to.”

“No, you didn’t,” he insisted. “You don’t deserve this. Why would you deserve this? Is it because of the laundry? You can’t have done this because of a load of clothes…”

“Not the laundry,” You breathed, interjecting. “It’s everything. I’m not good enough. I can’t do anything right. I’m a waste of space. I have to stop taking up space. Your space.”

“You're not.” He uttered immediately. Steven seemed to be choking on his next words. He stared at the blood soaking through your bandages. “You’re not… you’re…”

He pressed his eyes shut and your voice was loud in your head as you let your own heavy eyelids flutter closed. He’s finally getting it, isn’t he? I’m no good for him. This is the final straw. 

More trouble than I’m worth. 

Stop wasting space. 

You resigned yourself to the damage you’d done to him. The three of them were better off without you here. You’d leave them alone now. They’d kick you out and you’d move back in with your mother. At least she was used to being disappointed by you. You could handle her disdain, but not theirs. 

So fucking tired. 

“You’re not a waste of space.” His voice broke you away from the deep crevice in your mind that you’d sank into. “Mi Tesoro, how could you ever think that about yourself? You are plenty good enough.”

Jake unwrapped the wounds that Steven had dressed so haphazardly. If medical training was a contest between the three of them, Steven was certainly in line for the bronze, while Jake could perform surgery with kitchen utensils if prompted to. They had finally stopped bleeding, but the cuts needed a layer of antibiotics if they had any chance of healing right. Especially considering the rust on that gross pair of scissors.

“I scared him.” You didn’t need to elaborate. The absolute mess that you’d made of yourself had thrown Steven into a panic, sending him so far back in the headspace that Jake Lockley was forced to come out to take the reins. 

“Yes, you did. But he’ll be alright.” Jake’s voice was steady and smooth, and he was finished with your bandages before you even realized it. “You’ll be alright, too. Just try not to mess with these.”

“You’re never going to look at me the same. Any of you.”

“Maybe that’s true,” he admitted, “but that doesn’t matter. You can’t scare us away that easily.”

He lifted you by your shoulders, helping you stand against the bathroom wall. The floor was riddled with blood and towels and bandages, and your shirt and pants were far from clean. Jake was careful not to put pressure on your wounds as he supported your weight. You started toward the living room. 

“I would guess that you’ve done this before.” He guided you step by step to the couch. You say gently against the cushion, curling back into a ball as your eyelids gave up altogether on staying open. “But not since I’ve met you. Why did you start this again tonight?”

“I deserved it,” you repeated. There was no other way to explain it, or rather, no explanation you had the energy for. “I needed it.”

“We’re going to talk about this later.” He knew that you didn’t have the energy for a conversation right now. That didn’t mean that he’d save his ultimatum, though. Just because you couldn’t talk didn’t mean he couldn’t. He placed a blanket over you, leaving for a few moments to grab some water and painkillers. Plus, a package of crackers that he would force you to nibble on later. 

“You didn’t deserve it. You don’t deserve it. There’s nothing you could ever do to make you worthy of something like that. I can’t speak for the other two, but I’ve never met someone so loving, so wonderful. Eres la mejor persona que he conocido. There’s nothing you’d ever do to make you deserve that.”

Silent tears slipped down your face as he continued, and his voice wavered as he spoke. You assumed, though your eyes wouldn’t open, that we was fighting tears as well. 

“You really scared us, but we’re not angry at you. We’re not scared of you. We just can’t bear to see you hurt yourself. You know that you can’t be in pain without us hurting, too. We’re scared because we don’t know how to help. You have to tell us what’s wrong, so we can make sure you don’t hurt anymore.”

“But I need to.” I need to hurt. How else am I going to stay in control?

“No, chica, you don’t.” The cushion shifted underneath you, indicating that he’d sat down beside you. “You need help. Not this. Nothing good comes from this. We don’t want to see you like this. Not ever again.”

How else am I supposed to stay in control?

“Please promise me you’ll talk to me about this, alright? I want to hear all of it. I want to know why this is happening.”

“I don’t want to bother you.” Sleep was weighing on you by now. Thoughts drifted out of your lips without restraint, but they threatened to cease altogether as your limbs grew heavy. 

“You won’t bother me. This bothers me. Nothing that you could say would bother me. I want to hear about everything. Every thought that leads to this, you say it to me first.”

There was a pause that almost let you drift off completely. 

“That goes for the others as well. We all want you to talk to us. No matter when, no matter where. Okay?”

I can’t put this burden on them—

“Promise me!”

You pried your eyes open one last time. Jake’s gaze was pleading and tears were streaming down his face. He looked plenty burdened already. He was right. Nothing could be worse than this. You couldn’t ever hurt them more than this. And now that the urge had come and passed, the dull ache in your arms and the stinging in your thighs was a sore reminder of how little it was worth it. Not to mention the pain in your head. 

“I promise.”

Sometimes, when you say something out loud, you realize how ridiculous it sounds. It helps to keep you in check, and it keeps you from being your own worst enemy. If nothing else, it gives you perspective and keeps you from forgetting your voice. And before you ask, no. I’m not okay, but I am in therapy and on medication. Take it or leave it.

p.s. I started this fic obviously in a bad mood, and then I wrote most of it when I was no longer in a bad mood. For that reason, it may be gibberish. Don’t think of the reader as yourself. That’s probably unhealthy. Thank you to my beta readers, @moonmoonboys and @rmoonstoner

[ota-division]

Taria's Thoughts on Obihiro Division

Hisoka Tetsumasu

"The horse breeder, huh? I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him face-to-face, but I’ve heard a bit through the family grapevine. He’s got this quiet life going on, which is cool and all, but I can’t help but wonder how he’d handle a little excitement. Knowing me, I’d probably drag him into some harmless fun that might ruffle his feathers—or should I say, stir up the stable?

I can picture it now: a spontaneous midnight race through the fields, maybe a prank or two to liven up the ranch. Nothing that would actually harm the horses, of course. I’ve got a soft spot for animals. But let’s just say, if Hisoka and I ever cross paths, he’d better be ready for a bit of trouble. The good kind, naturally. It’s all in the name of fun, and who knows? It might just be the thing to shake up his routine. Just gotta make sure we don’t get caught—especially by my sister Kira. Now that would be a real mess to clean up."

Daiki Kamiyama

"Daiki Kamiyama, the self-proclaimed Paladin, huh? I've got to admit, the kid's got guts, trying to take on a street-smart woman like me. Sure, he calls me a ‘nasty pickpocket,’ but he’s only seen a sliver of the picture. If he knew the real reasons behind my actions, he might think twice before trying to play hero.

Speaking of which, his superhero act? It’s a bit too shiny and idealistic for my taste. The world’s not a comic strip, and you can’t just put on a mask and call it a day. But hey, I get it. He’s got this whole hero complex going on, and I can’t fault him for wanting to do the right thing. It’s kind of cute, in a way.

Next time he tries to ‘capture’ me, maybe I’ll show him a trick or two that’ll make him question his black-and-white view of the world. After all, life’s not a comic book, and sometimes the line between right and wrong gets a little blurry. Let’s just hope he’s ready for the lesson."

Jack Verrill

"The butler with a hero complex, huh? I’ve got to say, I’m impressed by his quick fingers—snatching back what I’d already lifted. Not many can catch me in the act. But let’s get one thing straight: I don’t pick pockets for kicks. There’s always a reason behind my actions, even if it’s not clear to the suited-up watchdogs of this world.

And him wanting to give me a ‘piece of his mind’? Now that’s something I’d pay to see. Jack stepping into the ring for a rap battle? I’d have a field day with that. It’s not every night you get to trade verses with someone who’s more used to polishing silver than spitting bars. But hey, if he’s up for it, I’m game. Let’s see if he can keep up with Taria Chinen, the street queen of rhyme. Just might teach him there’s more to life than just serving and protecting!"

Veiled Vanguard

"Veiled Vanguard, huh? They’re like a band of misfits straight out of a comic book. Hisoka’s trying to play it cool with his horses, Daiki’s running around in tights thinking he’s a hero, and Jack’s lurking in the shadows like some kind of brooding guardian. It’s like watching a circus act without having to buy a ticket. And trust me, I'd know all about that.

I can’t say I dislike them. They’re doing their thing, and I’m doing mine. We’re all just trying to make sense of this mess in our own way. I find their little team-up kind of humorous, to be honest. It’s like they’re all trying to outdo each other with their quirks. But hey, if they ever need someone who knows the streets and can handle the night, they know where to find me. Until then, I’ll just sit back and enjoy the show. Neutral? Nah, I’m just waiting for the right moment to jump in."

[cherrybombfangirlwrites]

Snow Knight ; A WIP Book Intro

Book 2 in my Fractured Stars Falling Series

Genre and Setting

high fantasy, mediveal gothic, fairytale retelling, dark fantasy ; the magical world of Eltya in the wooded kingdom of Goke, inspired by the mediveal gothic era

Playlist

POV

Third person limited, alternating between 2 characters

Status and Length

Zero Draft, about 5k ; About 100K? I'm not sure right now, guess we'll find out

Tropes and Themes

Snow White retelling, badass knights, a princess trying for the throne, tyrannic and evil step mother but she's kinda cool and hot, Queer Platonic Relationship over Romance, no romance at all, the main character is smart but also dumb as rocks and we love her for it ; learning to not let people walk all over you, learning to stand up to people who abuse you, escaping an abuser, putting yourself first, the tactics that abusers use to keep you from leaving -> and how to leave anyway, abuse and escaping it

Warnings and Rating

emotionally and mentally abusive parent/guardian, fantasy violence, death, assassination plot ; Teen and Up (i think)

Main Characters

Princess Snow White

AroAce, She/Her, Chinese

In a QPR with her best friend Lan

Talented archer and swordfighter

People pleaser to a fault and making excuses for her stepmother

Very smart when it comes to tactics and battle strategy but also dumb as rocks when it comes to common sense or street smarts

Lan Everson

Nonbinary, AroAce-spec, Mixed Asian, They/Them

Snow's best friend and QPR partner

Talented poet, always carries a little notebook with them to scribble lines down in, writes about anything and everything (but mainly their bestie, a lot of the poems are about their bestie)

Worried about their best friend and how she never stands up to her stepmother or holds her accountable

Antagonists

Queen Reigna

She/Her, Repressed Lesbian or Bisexual? who knows it's up for debate, in her early 40s but doesn't look it

The tyrannic queen of Goke, and Snow's emotionally abusive stepmother 

Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss 

Loosely based on Narissa from Enchanted 

Accosiates herself with dragons as an intimidation tactic 

Side Characters

Captain Kadeson: Captain of the Palace Guard and an old but experienced knight. Snow's main trainer in swordfighting and archery since she was ten. Bit of a protective father figure who's always trying to make sure she doesn't overtrain and is getting enough sleep/food/water

Irae: Snow's tutor since she was a small child, now Snow's mentor and friend, massive plant nerd, middle aged bisexual (hooks up with the cute palace librarian Lily), cool single aunt vibes

Hunter: The royal huntsman and Snow's friend, really sweet and nice guy who is blackmailed into trying to kill Snow and can't do it because they're friends.

The Seven Dwarves: War heroes from The First War with The Witch Queen, now living out the rest of their 1000 years in a small cottage in the woods. Their names are Grumpy, Stabby, Happy, Yummy (because his baking is so good), Blinky, Sneezy, and Sleepy.

Plot and Sypnosis

It's been only a year since the king died, and everyone is desperate to be free of Queen Reigna's tyrannic rule. The kingdom's only hope is the king's only living child and Queen Reigna's stepdaugter- Princess Snow White. 

Snow has been training for years, perfecting her sword and archery skills so that she may one day challenge her stepmother for the throne and bring peace to the kingdom once again. 

That day may be coming sooner than she wanted, with potential war looming on the horizon. 

Snow desperately wants to see the good in her stepmother- despite how much the Queen only seems to bring her pain. She's just greiving the loss of her husband and Snow's father, she never meant to hurt Snow, she just doesn't know how to be motherly- 

Lan has been Snow's best friend since they were kids, and neither one would have it any other way. They is worried that she may be giving her stepmother too many excuses and chances, and that one day it'll get Snow killed. No matter how hard they try, they've never been able to get through to Snow about how they see the relationship from the outside. 

When an assassination attempt is made on Snow's life, and her friend Hunter is blackmailed by an anonymous person- Snow and Lan make their escape into the woods, in hopes that it will keep her safe until the plot against her is uncovered and can challenge her stepmother for the throne. 

Extra Stuff

This book is one of my favorites in my Fractured Stars Falling series, because it has the AroAce protagonist I always wanted to see going on the same adventures I'd see straight protagonists go on as a kid. I have no plans to force Snow and Lan into a romantic relationship, and they're going to stay best friends as they should be (just to be clear).

Here are some memes for your viewing pleasure:

[13rie]

The world of Pokémon is vast: in the vast regions you journey through, amongst the creatures you grow close to, in various people you meet. Many tales can be told as one makes their way through the generations, no matter what game you begin with or at what age you start. Even if the story ends all the same, it’s the in-between that has entertained many for years.

With every game I play, I like to create little backstories for the MCs I play as. I also like to have one game as a girl and one as a guy. I’ve ever only beaten Gold though since that was the only game I had when I was young. While I’m away from work (due to mental health issues), I’ve been playing a lot of Pokémon lately and I thought I’d share them in this post. Even if no one ends up reading any of this, it’ll be something for me to look back at and maybe add to along the way.

NOTE: I always name my character “Burrows” but it’s treated more like a last name than their given name. Also not every game has a backstory yet because I’ve yet to play them.

Crystal is linked to Legends Arceus because at the end of the battle with Red on Mt. Silver, Kris ends up being teleported to Hisui (if I’m playing a female) by Arceus. She’s also Lyra’s older sister.

Platinum is linked to Legends Arceus because couple of years after Dawn becomes Champion, Lucas ends up being teleported to Hisui (if I’m playing a male) by Arceus.

In HeartGold, Lyra sets off on a journey with the motivation to find what happened to her sister, Kris.

In Sword, Victor is originally from somewhere that’s the equivalent to Germany and has had a crush on Hop since they were kids. In Shield, Gloria is Hop’s cousin.

Brilliant Diamond also has Dawn being related to Barry (since I play as a blonde in that game and I immediately thought of her being related to Barry when I saw them together).

Legends Arceus has been briefly explained already but I also like to imagine an alternate timeline where both Lucas and Kris have been sent to Hisui, with Kris being sent a few years earlier than Lucas.

Both Kris and Lucas came from timelines where they were the assistant to their region’s professor so they’re good with researching for Professor Laventon.

Kris is better at battling than Lucas but Lucas is better with problem solving and is more book-smart to Kris’s street-smart.

Neither lost their memories. They aren’t Fallers since they didn’t arrive to Hisui through a wormhole, Arceus was the one who brought them over (I know you can technically play as if you have amnesia in the game but I like the idea of the MCs retaining their memories better).

Kris doesn’t know who Ingo actually is but Lucas does and it’s pain-! He tells Kris and they both make it their mission to help Ingo recover his memories.

Kris was dropped in Hisui feeling accomplished and is determined to find a way back home. Lucas was dropped in Hisui feeling like he might be better off in the past because at least he’s being appreciated and remembered (things weren’t exactly going great for him back in the Platinum timeline).

Kris and Lucas still meet Rei and Akari in this timeline but they’re kids, not teenagers (makes for some cute bonding moments since they remind Kris of Lyra and Lucas was an only child).

[liiilyevans]

What's your top 10 Harry Potter favorite characters?

Literally the most difficult questions in the world! AHHHH!

1. Ginny/George Weasley

We've got the Weasleys battling it out for the top spot because I honestly could not choose between them. I love Ginny's fire and her charisma. @harryissuchalittleshit and I discuss all the time the complexities to her character and her storyline. (This is a reminder to myself to write more Ginny in the future. Hold me accountable, Becky!) And then there's George, whose voice will be forever burned into my brain. I love a good healing arc and no one has a better healing arc than George Weasley, imo. Plus, he's the epitome of angst, and ya'll know I can never say no to angst.

2. James Potter

The man who brought me to the fandom. I love James. He's undeniably brave and unwaveringly loyal and terribly charismatic. I think leadership comes easily to him, and I love writing that. I think he's one of those people that others look up to, and that serves him well throughout his days at Hogwarts and the war. He's also not afraid to show his vulnerable side. You cannot tell me this man did not cry when Sirius Black turned up at his doorstep covered in bruises and with no where to go or when he married the love of his life because he absolutely did. Also, he's the president of the hot dads club so he's got to be pretty high up on my list.

3. Lily Evans

Can you tell I'm a fan of redheads lol? Anyways, Lily comes in third because of her compassion and her belief that others can be good. I think she's a very forgiving, but that doesn't mean you can walk all over her. You can see that in her friendship with Snape. There's a line in the sand and once you cross that line, she's done with you. Lily is great and wonderful. The only reason she's not number two is because I find her harder to write than James. James wears his heart on his sleeve, and Lily is more reserved, not closed off, just more reserved, and sometimes I have trouble with that. (And it's funny because most of my Jily fics are written from her POV.)

4. Angelina Johnson

This woman has me in a death grip. I think she's bold and blunt and caring all rolled into one and she's just fucking amazing. She takes absolutely no shit from anyone. I think she's the kind of person that I aspire to be but am too nice to be. So, if you ever read any of my fics and she's telling someone off, know that I am behind the scenes screaming 'YAS QUEEN' at my computer screen. I also think she cares deeply about those close to her. She doesn't show those emotions outwardly - only to certain people - but if you need someone to come bail you out of jail at 2 in the morning, no questions asked, Angelina is the person you call.

5. Ron Weasley

Are you surprised to see another redhead in the top five? Because you shouldn't be. I fucking love Ron Weasley, and I love to write from his POV. I think he's hilarious and his humor is very underrated. If you want to see prime Ron humor, go read Decision Making. He's doing the most in that fic and giving so much sass. Also, can we talk about how this guy is smart? Like super smart. Not book smart though, like street smart/strategic. Ron is the reason that Harry doesn't end up with his arm blown off when they first become Aurors, and you cannot convince me otherwise.

6. Astoria Greengrass

I have sadly not put out enough fics with this woman in them. I think she's such a spitfire, and she pushes Draco's buttons so well. Personal headcanon time! She was one of the few Slytherin purebloods who advocated for Muggleborns during her years at Hogwarts. She also helped any Muggleborns who were sorted into Slytherin (don't tell me there weren't any because there were), and did her best to make them feel at home. She wanted to join the DA, but knew that they would never trust her because of her house. She goes on to work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and actually develops a good working relationship with Harry. I could write a book on this woman. (And don't tell me she died because we do not stan CC in this house.)

7. Katie Bell

Another lovely lady who I have put out very little about, but have written quite a bit. I think she's one of the kindest people in the series besides Lily Evans. She goes on to be a Healer and run St. Mungo's after she saw how much they did for her when she was cursed. I think she's an incredibly for forgiving person and also incredibly loyal. She and George have an older brother/younger sister relationship, which is another reason why I love her.

8. Hermione Granger

Hermione is a little harder for me to write because sometimes I find her annoying and roll my eyes at her (much like Ron does). But I still love her and her character and her smarts. I think she's very book smart, but lacks streets smarts. (which is why Romione works so well, imo) But I love her, and Harry and Ron would not have made it without her. She kept their heads above water for sure. I feel like she uses a lot of big fancy words when she thinks so I've always got a thesaurus and dictionary pulled up when I write from her POV.

9. Draco Malfoy

It's the redemption arc for me. I think Draco grows so much after the war and writing that is always fun for me. He's definitely still a snob, but it's more general and less directed than before. Also, I love his banter with Astoria. Like I don't particularly care for writing him pre-HBP so that's why he's this far down on this list.

10. Harry Potter

Are you surprised by this lol? There is a reason Harry is number ten though. And that is because I struggle to write him A LOT. For being the main character, I have a very difficult time writing his POV. (Any recommendations on writing him would be greatly appreciated because I'm currently working on a hinny multi chapter fic.) But I love his sense of humor and his sarcasm. (I mean, 'there's no need to call me 'sir,' Professor,' how can you beat that?)

Hope you enjoyed this!

[chaosoftheages]

Father & Son Character Headcanons!!!

I've established quite a few of my own Headcanons for most of the F&S characters, not including my OC's who have their own bios now on my OC list, so I'm giving Alan's characters my own personal headcanons for Father & Son.

(Also, if nobody noticed, I gave my standalones an actual title and connected them, so they'll have their own headcanon page later. This will be added to my pinned post eventually.)

Anyways-

Headcanons!

Purple(Nickname: Little flower):

Very sensitive

Has abandonment issues

Inherited his father's sass and attitude

Dropped Navy's last name. Fully adopts Orchid's last name, Rose.

Very scared his power will become unstable and he will hurt someone

Loves clear, sunny days.

Still has most of the scars from the major battles in the early books.

Both very affectionate and not affectionate at all. Like, he will fall asleep cuddling next to King, or physically push him away.

Considers Gold his adoptive brother, and often refers to Sapphire as his sister in law.

Has a surprisingly strong internal system, despite the constant stabbings, major battles, and comas he is put under.

Very street smart

Can space out very easily

Has anxiety

Defenitely has PTSD

Still worried King will turn on him

Always on high alert. With how much Navy has come back, it's become a habit

Has insomnia. Usually can only fall asleep unless he's near King

Still partially processing Orchid's affair

Has chronic headaches and will sometimes look like he's still brainwashed.

Has a necklace King gave him. Always wears it. Protects it with his life. Literally his all-time favorite gift. Will probably kill someone with an energy ball if it gets damaged or broken.

Has a lot of self-doubt and personal self problems. King usually drags him out of the hole with a hug and positive affirmations.

Has a higher self confidence as the series progresses.

Believes in reincarnation, not in a "I can just resurrect myself from dead with these random powers I somehow acquired while attempting to kill somebody" kind of way

King Orange

Protective of all of the kids, but especially protective of Purple

Fears losing Purple

Very attached to Purple. He's scared of losing another child over a stupid mistake.

Cherishes the genuine smiles Purple gives. They aren't very common anymore, with how much the kid has gone through, so he absolutely adores seeing Purple look genuinely happy.

Purple's main support system. Usually holds him when he's having a breakdown and cuddles him until he falls asleep.

Kept an old test staff from when he was avenging Gold as a precaution. While Yellow has the Command Block Staff, King will usually grab Alan's Minecraft block as a last resort.

On occasion will have nightmares, whether it's Purple in danger or any of the other kids. They scare him.

Scared he'll drive Purple away because of a trivial mistake.

Just in general loves Purple. Will probably kill Navy on his own if there's ever a time that they can't bring Purple back

Slightly weary of Gold's relationship with Sapphire, but supportive nonetheless.

Adores seeing Gold and Purple bond. He thinks it's cute, and loves that Purple sees Gold as an adoptive sibling.

Has trouble trusting that Purple knows what he's doing, but grows out of that phase as the series goes on. He does it out of fear that Purple is going to get himself killed or even severely injured.

Chosen

Very protective of Second and the CG

Will murder anyone who messes with Dark

Scared of losing Dark because of what's happened in the past.

Purple's third supporter, next to King and Dark.

Between all three hollow heads, he is the most level headed.

Has insomnia

Tries not to start fights, and is reasonable with what he says if they do start. The last time he and Dark had a fight, he almost lost Dark forever, and he doesn't want that happening again

Finds Dark's exaggeration of things incredibly hilarious

Will hug so tight and never let go. Dark knows this very well.

Occasionally stays the night in Second's room to keep watch over him.

Enjoys teasing Dark. He acts like an older brother to him. Dark finds it annoying and will usually tease him back as payback.

Can be sensitive and emotional

Loves it when Dark calls him "Cho"

Dark

Loves calling Chosen "Cho"

Knows how the Virabots work, even though Navy has rewired them entirely.

Kept the ViraBands as a precaution and last resort. He and Purple both have a ViraBand just in case(Dark's in the black in red from AVA, and Purple's is a mix of purple and blue)

Complains about Chosen's incredibly tight hugs. Deep down, he absolutely loves them. Will usually hug him equally tight.

Purple's secondary supporter.

Has more nightmares than Chosen

Between all three hollowheads, he is hotheaded and reckless.

Will say hurtful words, and then automatically regret them later. Will hate himself for it.

Equally protective of the CG

Is close with Purple and Yellow specifically.(He and Purple kind of trauma bonded and are good at working together, and he and Yellow are some of the smartest people in the group.)

Second

Annoyed at Chosen and Dark's protectiveness, but accepts it. He knows King does the exact same thing with Purple(though Purple is more accepting of the affection and cherishes it)

Occasionally camps out in Red's room. He knows Red had been hit the hardest in the first three books, and in book 6, so he tries comforting him as best as he can.

Extremely protective of the CG, Purple included. Will 100% use his powers if they are threatened.

Very scared that his powers will become out of control. He's still learning about them, like Purple, and is nervous about how crazy they've gotten in the past

His eyes flicker green and his body glows green when he's using his powers.

Whenever he uses a large amount of power, his body will be covered with green electricity, like paralysis.

Very sleep deprived(He blames Green.)

Red

Has PTSD

Has insomnia

Occasionally has nightmares about what he's been through

Purple helps him with his animals

Between the other members of the CG, he's the closest to Purple and Second

Sensitive

Has a bracelet with the CG's colors mixed into it.

Uses fidget toys often

Has anxiety

Is the most childish between all six of the CG members

Next to Purple, he is the most traumatized.

Loves baggy sweaters.

Can tame literally any Minecraft mob.

Yellow

One of the three smartest characters

Between Alan's pc-dwellers, he is the most sarcastic and has the most sass(the title is quickly taken by Purple out of the entire cast)

Tries to be very scientific and logical

Very reasonable

Can very quickly rewire literally any one of Navy's machines. He never gets the chance, but he could do it.

One of the swiftest. Easily able to take out any guards if you give him weapons and a decent chance.(This is very important in the infection au)

VERY sleep deprived.

Addicted to coffee.

Loves insulting Green

Literally Blue's best friend.

Green

Stays up all night playing music. Won't let Second sound-proof his room

Loves trying to annoy Purple in the middle of the night.

Very sarcastic.

Loves to pick verbal fights with Navy whenever he gets a chance

Argues with Yellow on the daily

The strongest in hand-to-hand combat.

Will absolutely start a fight in Purple's honor(Mocha almost lost a nose because of that)

Can roller skate very well(Purple taught him)

Actually does become good friends with Scarlet. His friends love teasing him about their relationship as much as Sapphire is teased about her relationship with Gold

Easily ticked off. Will either start insulting someone into a mental breakdown, or just start throwing hands if you give him a chance

Has an on-off rivalry with King. Purple finds it both annoying and hilarious.

Will 100% let King hear it if he hurts Purple. Like, he will absolutely go insane(King's grateful Green didn't find out that he let Purple run out in the middle of a thunderstorm.)

Blue

Still a netherwart addict.

Basically the gang's alchemist. It's his role in his and Yellow's dynamic too.

Very sensitive

Will let someone hear it if they mess with Yellow.

Loves having one-on-one sleepover campouts with Yellow.

The gangs chef. Probably rivals a chef in Stick City somewhere.

The calmest and most levelheaded between the six of them.

Still weary of Dark

Good friends with Copper.

Is a literal mother hen with the CG. Alan finds it hilarious.

Gold

Protective of Purple.

Slightly weary of Mocha's old friends because of what they did to Purple and Sunny, but accepting of them.

Has playful banter with Copper over his relationship with Sapphire

Loves scavenger hunts.

Still traumatized from the festival and the Minecraft incident.

Has a necklace from Purple. Cherishes it.

Has scars on his arms and upper body from the Minecraft incident

Loves going to arcades. Will drag Purple with him on occasion.

Still spends time with King a lot.

Loves going to the movies. Will take Sapphire there as a date every so often

Navy

Literally just pure evil

Very smart

Feels no remorse for what he's done to Purple

Questions if Purple really is his biological son after the affair between Night Shade and Orchid is revealed

Has not talked to his parents in years. Didn't even talk to them after leaving Orchid and Purple.

Took way to long to realize that Orchid was dead. Didn't even know of it until Night Shade brought it up while they were plotting their second attempt at getting rid of Purple(meaning he didn't know she was dead until book 2)

Wonders how the fuck Purple is still alive

Has full control of the ViraBots. Doesn't realize that Dark can easily hack into them.

Has major anger issues

Has completely forgotten how to fight in hand-to-hand combat. Has gotten way too used to fighting Purple in the sky with energy balls and ViraBands to even remember(this happens in books 9-10)

Orchid

Still partially sane

Feels a little remorse for what she's done to Purple, but not enough to break through Navy's mind control.

Still very weak. The illness that killed her originally(pre-series) is still inside of her, and it weakens her physical strength

Not really ashamed of her affair with Night Shade. She thinks he deserved to know the pain he was giving to her. Did not realize a child would come out of it.

Feels guilty for dropping Amethyst with Night Shade right off the bat. She knew deep down that Navy would kill her if he ever learned Orchid had a child with another person.

Never knew that Navy and Night Shade were related. She just thought that they were really close friends.

Originally gave Purple the nickname "my little prince". It is used it two different ways in the series: Navy uses it to taunt Purple, and King changes it to "my little flower" as an affectionate nickname for Purple

Didn't use Navy's last name, Ribbon. This follows Purple, who drops Ribbon and uses Rose.

[rafent]

𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐓

NAME. RAFAL

BODY

HEIGHT: 176cm — 5′ 9

STRENGTH ★★★★☆ ( has the body type of an anchovy, but is illusively strong and wields an axe twice his size. could probably fake out a lot of opponents in arm wrestling. )

DEXTERITY ★★☆☆☆

HEALTH ★★★★☆

ENERGY ★★★☆☆ ( capable of keeping up with others but has limits and isn't ashamed of vocalizing them. loudly. )

BEAUTY ★★★★☆ ( rafal though beautiful doesn't exude any warmth, overshadowed by his own cold and occasionally cruel attitude. 'he's a 10, but-' )

STYLE ★★★★★ ( a rare case of only wearing expensive brands and having a sense of style while doing it. )

HYGIENE ★★★★★ ( clean and neatly preened. makes a conscious effort to look and smell presentable. )

SKILLS

PERCEPTION ★★★★☆ ( insightful towards both his surroundings and his loved ones, critical toward perceived dysfunctions in the world around him. )

COMMUNICATION ★★★☆☆ ( selectively eloquent when it comes to articulating his issues and desires. it depends on the individual he's talking to and the emotional complexity between them. )

PERSUASION ★☆☆☆☆ ( what is that x1. )

MEDIATION ★☆☆☆☆ ( what is that x2. )

LITERACY ★★★★☆ ( one of his oldest likes is reading and he gleaned the recipes for his desserts from books in both gradlon and lythos. )

CREATIVITY ★★★☆☆

COOKING ★★★★★ ( exceptional cook, just super selective in what he makes because his cooking is tailored to his own sweet tooth. what he does make for others tends to be enjoyed, however. )

TECH SAVVY ★☆☆☆☆ ( "what in blazes is this ridiculous contraption, divine one." )

COMBAT ★☆☆☆☆ -> ★★★★☆ ( he once fell behind his siblings in combat prowess, slower and weaker than the majority. powerful as of present, but has a habit of letting it get to his head according to gregory. )

SURVIVAL ★★★★★ ( it takes a special kind of individual to survive centuries in a harsh environment like gradlon and a belligerent, constantly warring alt!elyos. in a rare instance of advice, sombron advised him to deceive others and conceal his strength, so that's what rafal did. )

STEALTH ★★★★☆ ( definitely in his skillset; along with nel and the four winds he traveled the lands covertly or fled battles whenever the need arose. )

STREET SMARTS ★★★☆☆

SEDUCTION ★★★☆☆ ( a good actor plays any part. rafal fears interpersonal intimacy, relying on a mask formed by the defensive mechanisms of cruelty and vitriol to keep his distance. given an opening, toying with feelings of attraction can be another unkind method. )

LUCK ★★★★★ ( lucky to be alive, lucky to have so many willing to accept and support him despite his sins. )

HANDLING ANIMALS ★☆☆☆☆ ( rafal's profile card talent is scaring away animals and i attribute this more to an uncontrollable aura than any conscious intent. )

PACIFYING CHILDREN ★★☆☆☆ ( if the child in question resembles nil then he'll try to behave in a more nurturing way. )

MIND

INTELLIGENCE ★★★☆☆ ( not overly good with numbers or logical deductions and does better with intuition. )

HAPPINESS ★★★☆☆

SPIRITUALITY ★★★☆☆ ( though fell dragons themselves are worshiped, rafal ironically prayed every day for nel during his thousand year penance. )

CONFIDENCE ★★★★☆ ( oozing liquid confidence on most occasions, but does have intermittent insecurities about his wrongdoings and immoral nature. )

HUMOR ★★☆☆☆ ( can take a joke. occasionally. )

ANXIETY ★☆☆☆☆

PATIENCE ★★★★★ ( we're talking about the man who waited for a millennia in a lifeless and otherwise uninhabited world, all without surrendering to insanity or retreating from his own plan. )

PASSION ★★★★★ ( passionate in his goals of penitence sometimes to the point of unnerving intensity. )

NICE ☆☆★☆☆ MEAN ( abrasive and harshly spoken so it's difficult to discern where he stands internally, but he's kinder than how he behaves. bit by bit learning the value in kindness. )

BRAVE ☆☆☆★☆ COWARDLY ( he'll face any opponent that stands before his eyes, but when it comes to facing his innermost desires and letting other people into his heart, that's when he turns tail. rafal, in that respect, runs away. )

PACIFIST ☆☆☆★☆ VIOLENT ( doesn't approve of meaningless violence, but violence itself is still a part of his behavior. )

THOUGHTFUL ☆☆☆★☆ IMPULSIVE ( though capable of apologizing and exercising thoughtfulness, more often than not tends to make quick judgements first. forethought isn't really his thing. )

AGREEABLE ☆★☆☆☆ CONTRARY ( a prickly manner of expression belies rafal's true feelings. he's surprisingly agreeable. find him in a quiet moment and he can be pleasant even as someone who isn't used to peaceful interactions. )

IDEALISTIC ☆☆☆☆★ PRAGMATIC

FRUGAL ☆☆☆☆★ BIG SPENDER ( extremely high maintenance and his favorite pastimes don't come cheap. )

EXTROVERT ☆☆☆★☆ INTROVERT ( introvert-leaning in the sense that he sticks largely to himself and the few people he determines as his loved ones. )

COLLECTED ☆☆★☆☆ WILD ( mostly collected, with just a tiny pinch of wild flavor. . .talking, of course, about someone who gives the most unhinged and gleeful laughter when breaking an enemy. jpn rafal at least is, phew. )

ambitious / possessive / stubborn / jealous / decisive / perfectionist

SOCIAL

CHARISMA ★☆☆☆☆ ( ask him to move a crowd and he won't stir the feet of a single person. )

EMPATHY ★★★★☆ ( empathy is what motivated him to don a false identity in the first place. empathy is why he lived a lie and feared more than anything to impart the truth to those who mattered. )

GENEROSITY ★★☆☆☆

WEALTH ★☆☆☆☆

HONEST  ☆☆☆☆★ DECEPTIVE -> HONEST ☆★☆☆☆ DECEPTIVE ( a changed man, he once deceived others but lives without most pretenses or facades now. )

LEADER   ☆☆★☆☆ FOLLOWER ( neutral. rafal would rather work alone but if anything he's familiar with both following orders and interacting with subordinates. )

POLITE ☆☆☆★☆ RUDE ( rude by consequence and only sometimes by intention as his words are completely unfiltered, often scathing. )

POLITICAL ☆☆☆★☆ INDIFFERENT ( can produce some idea of what a good ruler and government should be; however, he doesn't actively tout his opinions on the matter. )

BELIEFS

HIGHER POWER ★★★☆☆ ( in his darkest hours he did rely on a higher power, both to hasten an awakening and to ease his loneliness by praying to someone, or something, that could possibly answer back. )

FATE/DESTINY ★☆☆☆☆ ( a romantic, intangible concept like fate offered up little meaning to a child who suffered all sorts of horrors and miseries. as an adult he doesn't believe in it, either. )

MAGIC ★★★★★ ( undoubtedly exists. he's been on the receiving end of it. )

SOULMATES ★★★★☆ ( the ideal of a soulmate is equivalent more or less to an other half, a beloved twin. he's found his, of course. )

GOOD AND EVIL ★★★★☆ ( his conceptualization of good and evil is very binary or at least unsympathetic when it comes to himself- showing in how earnestly he condemns his own evils as being deserving of death. )

LUCK ★☆☆☆☆

PRIORITIES

FAMILY ★★★★★ ( nel is his utmost priority. )

FRIENDS ★★★★☆ ( friends matter, too, so far as he's loathe to admit. )

LOVE ★★★★☆ ( has difficulty expressing it but places value in love, showing it through his rare acts of generosity and yearning to receive it from others. )

HOME ★☆☆☆☆ ( rafal is unable to prioritize a world and consequently a home that he himself destroyed. )

HEALTH ★☆☆☆☆ ( inspires worry for his habits of charging ahead on the frontlines and fighting alone. a reckless style that combines overconfidence with disregard for his own safety. )

PRAISE ★☆☆☆☆

JUSTICE ★★★★☆ ( his own version of justice matters; an ear for an ear and an eye for an eye, so to speak. )

TRUTH ★★☆☆☆ ( honoring the truth is less important than protecting himself or maintaining his walls. his lies often have to be called out. )

POWER ★★★★★ ( power is the utmost parameter defining his worth. without it, or losing hold of it, he'd no doubt relapse to some semblance of the destructive ambitions he possessed before. seizing power is worth the reward of living without humiliation, of determining his place in the world without cowing to its dangers. )

FAME ★☆☆☆☆

WEALTH ★★★☆☆ ( wealth is only a tool, but it's a useful tool to make his favorite pastimes happen. as a luxury good enthusiast, curating those vouis lutton and kichael mors collections are expensive. )

OTHERS' OPINIONS ★☆☆☆☆ ( couldn't care less. )

[dark-night-star-light]

Spirit Animals: Wild Born (Reread pt. 1)

DISCLAIMER: WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR BOOKS ONE THROUGH SEVEN.

Masterpost

Chapter 1

" . . . and Conor was the third son of Fenray, Herder of Sheep" (1). Conor is actually hilarious, you guys.

There's a dark-skinned guy at Conor's ceremony, and I can't remember??? Who it is??? I don't think it's Tarik???

"Eyes closed, Devin tilted his face skyward" (8). He is literally such a drama queen.

"Whatever the taste, sampling the Nectar would officially mark the end of his childhood" (9). Aren't they??? Eleven???

*narrator voice* It was, in fact, Tarik.

Chapter 2

How did Abeke learn to shoot/hunt if women are scorned for it? Nobody in her village approved. Who taught her??? Did she teach herself? She's literally so talented.

"The Nectar tasted like unheated soup, the kind her mother used to make with crushed nuts" (19). So the Nectar doesn't necessarily taste sweet, just whatever the recipient thinks of as tasty.

"'A traveler like me hails from all corners'" (23), "'These rumors are the groans of a dam about to burst'" (23). Zerif talking in riddles to make himself seem smarter is so funny.

"Did he want to be rid of her? Would he act so eager if Soama had summoned this leopard?" (24). My. Heart.

Chapter 3

"None of the boys actually knew her" (29). Ohhhhhh yeah, you have no idea.

Lenori herself came to Meilin's ceremony??? Wow. Literally do not remember that.

"The warm fluid was bitter to her tongue - it took some effort to avoid gagging" (32). I kind of wonder if Meilin ever wondered why the Nectar was called the Nectar between now and the end of Against the Tide. Didn't she ever question it?

I did not remember the invasion being this abrupt???

"The Devourer was a legend from the past, a monster in nursery stories" (37). Do normal people think that the First Devourer War was just a myth? They don't, like, talk about it during history class or something? Huh.

I don't remember the battle being this long, either.

Chapter 4

" . . . the life of a friend outweighed some rule" (44). I forgot Rollan had friends on the street. Didn't it mention in later books that he had no friends and never trusted anybody? Maybe I'm wrong.

"'Maybe you could get creative? You know, to help stop a kid from dying?'" (45). Woah, Rollan tamp down on the passive-aggressiveness.

"Rollan decided he could stop licking Mr. Valdez's boots" (46). My guy, you stopped doing that a long time ago.

"'Actually, I'm a lost prince. If you take me back to Eura, my father will reward you'" (49). This guy really needs to stop being so passive-agressive.

"'People don't bond with insects'" (51). Why not?

"'That was quite a speech'" (51). Congrats, Rollan, you've graduated from passive-agressive to sarcastic.

I thought Rollan got his Nectar from Zerif???

Never mind, here comes Zerif.

Olvan??? Is here???

Chapter 5

"What if she had missed her chance finally to fit in?" (60). Abeke's father is psychologically abusive.

I never realized how much the Conquerors all . . . spoke the truth? Like technically, nothing Zerif said was false, it was just manipulative. Shane is the same way.

Speaking of which! Shane!

"'Spirit animals always arrive as adults'" (62). What happens if your spirit animal has the lifespan of a mayfly? It'll be dead in 0.4 seconds. Or do spirit animals have longer-than-average lifespans?

" . . . he had bashfully shown her the hint of a mark high on his chest" (63). Wow, that's pretty manipulative of Shane. Also, how did Abeke not find it suspicious that she didn't get to see the full thing?

"She lunged and stabbed hard, hoping to catch him off guard" (64). One of my pet peeves in books is when characters stop fighting to talk. Abeke using this to her advantage is so smart.

I forgot about Shane's pretend assassin. Honestly, I don't get why Abeke is so mad. Like, she demonstrated her abilities well? And, it proved she had skill in actual combat. But I guess it's like an honor thing?

Abeke! Is the first! Of the four! To summon her spirit animal into passive state! Even before Meilin, and she had Bile!

Chapter 6

Wow, Conor accepted the green cloak almost immediately. That's a bit strange, considering he never seemed to express any desire for it until now.

" . . . and he realized her shy smile was practiced" (71). Rollan being able to tell Meilin's "alternate personality" is completely fake without even saying a word to her is actually kind of iconic.

" . . . Meilin asked, speaking Common" (72). I'm guessing Common is like English.

"'Which is the lie?' Meilin asked. 'That you were in jail, or that you were there for stealing medicine?' Rollan shrugged. 'You got me. I'm actually Olvan's son. He's having me spy on you.'" (74). Rollan and Meilin enemies(?) to lovers arc, my beloved.

"It was Conor!" (78). The excessive use of exclamation points in this book is so strange.

Rollan judging people be like: you're either stupid, or not stupid. You're either rich, or not rich.

"'I never asked for my own Great Beast, but it happened, and now the Greencloaks need my help to protect the world'" (80). Am I the only one that thinks that's a flimsy justification? Conor's pretty gullible. Can't he help the Greencloaks without joining them? It's not like they'd ditch him by the side of the road.

"'That means they're using me and that makes me cautious'" (81). Exactly. It's pretty cool how a middle-grade series like this has morally gray "good guys".

"'I hear they like flowers'" (82). Ladies and gentlemen, may I present, Conor and Rollan talking about girls.

Chapter 7

"Had they discussed her in private?" (84). Meilin's brain 95% of the time: Zhong is under attack. How do I help my father? These idiots shouldn't have brought me here! I want to fight by his side! Meilin's brain the remaining 5% of the time: Did they talk behind my back about me?

"That might explain why Conor was good at it - she doubted his problem would be too much thought" (87). Oof, both Rollan and Meilin think Conor is stupid.

"Had the boys practiced? Probably" (87). Meilin is so flustered, it's funny.

"Maybe she was the one unable to receive the cues" (88). I'll say.

"Her father had always told her to keep her abilities private so she could surprise adversaries in times of need" (88). Wait, wait, wait. Does Meilin see Conor and Rollan as adversaries?

"'I didn't live in a palace'" (90). No, of course not. It was only a mansion.

"'A slow orphan ends up in jail.' 'Weren't you just in jail?'" (90). Rollan/Meilin banter is literally carrying this book, in my humble opinion.

"'We have to use you correctly . . . '" (94). Tarik, you're proving Rollan's point about the Greencloaks.

Meilin at the end of that chapter is lowkey toxic towards Jhi?

Chapter 8

So far, it's pretty clear that Abeke is the only one that regards her spirit animal as a friend. (Conor hasn't had a POV besides the summoning one yet.)

"'A dose is a dose. The amount don't matter'" (101). So a drop is the same as a liter?

"'They're trying to find a replacement for the Nectar. They try out their concoctions in secret'" (106). Shane's telling half-truths again.

Chapter 9

"Conor was very conscious of her heightened interest. Didn't she ever blink?" (110). See? He's not stupid.

"'The wolf seems to agree,' Lenori said. Briggan barked, making Conor jump" (111). My personal headcanon: Briggan hates being called "the wolf".

Ah, vague prophetic dreams, my enemy.

Seriously don't remember Conor doing the waking dream thing???

Olvan referring to the world as "the four nations" is just. So ouch. Like, oof for Stetriol. I wonder if Olvan knows about Stetriol? Probably, right?

"' . . . the Great Beasts are a strange group . . . '" (116). Wow, just gonna say that in front of three of the Four Fallen? Okay.

"'The events surrounding the Great Beasts are often dismissed as legend' . . . 'I heard about that from my nanny'" (116). LMFAO. Also, I guess the Great Beasts are kind of like gods?

"'Whether we're up against the same Devourer who leveled much of Erdas long ago . . . '" (117). Do they actually think the Devourer is immortal?

Wow, that was a lot of info-dumping. At least they saved it for the middle to not overwhelm the reader at the beginning. That was a good choice.

"Who did Rollan think he was? What kind of reward did he expect?" (119). Um, Rollan kind of actually has a point, though?

Chapter 10

" . . . Amaya, the New Lands" (123). Why is Amaya called the New Lands? It's already established that it was there during the first Devourer War, which was a long time ago, so why???

"'I want to like you too'" (123). Ouch.

Why didn't Jhi tell Meilin about the Bile bonding during the dream? Maybe the dream wasn't a real connection between Jhi and Meilin? But, if it was, couldn't Jhi have warned Meilin about the Bile bond?

"Jhi felt warm and perfect" (126). Ayyyyyy.

Chapter 11

"Who were they, and why did they leave Uraza so agitated?" (128). Can Great Beasts sense a Bile bond?

"'I know it is rare across the rest of Erdas, but in Stetriol, summoning a saltwater crocodile is no cause for astonishment . . . '" (130). Kind of want a fic of a random (non-Stetriolan) person summoning a saltwater crocodile and being shunned for it. People compare them to the Devourer and eventually they work their way up to success. (This is before the main story takes place, by the way.)

"This information was new to her, but she supposed it was all plausible" (131). I'm surprised she bought it that quickly??? I don't know, it seems like if you didn't know about the existence of Stetriol, you'd probably be skeptical . . . 

"'How awful! Your bonding . . . ' 'Occurred without any Nectar'" (132). Wow, Shane is really good at the whole half-truth thing.

Well, that was also a shit ton of info-dumping. At least it wasn't at the beginning.

I forgot the talismans could only be used by the Marked . . . 

"'What about the men who were making monsters?'" (134). Legit do not remember a single thing about this plotline. What happens to them? The substance is Bile, right?

Chapter 12

" . . . Rollan could renounce his rewards and take up the green cloak instead" (137). The deal Olvan makes with Rollan is so weird . . . shouldn't Rollan get a manor and money even if he does become a Greencloak?

So Amaya is the New Lands and Zhong is the Walled Lands. Huh. Must've completely blocked that out on my first time through.

"'Some former Greencloaks hold grudges'" (139). Why, though? Were they forcibly released?

"'Never out of shame or to win favor'" (139). If I'm not wrong, this has some reason to do with why Rollan eventually joins the Greencloaks? I don't know, may not be remembering right.

"'Go drink your Nectar!'" (142). This might be the funniest way I've ever heard someone try to insult a Greencloak.

Tarik started throwing punches???

Okay, I apparently thought that Monte and Barlow were actually Greencloaks, but apparently they're former Greencloaks. Why does Monte hate the Greencloaks, then?

Chapter 13

 "To think the man behind the counter had been one of the pair they were looking for!" (144). The exclamation point makes Conor sound so innocent.

"Barlow's laugh subsided, but his heavy shoulders kept heaving. He wiped a tear from his eye'" (145). Wow, he managed to produce a tear? That's good. 

" . . . Conor said, aware that the animals had made an impact on the two explorers" (147). Yeah, I wonder why.

"' . . . With the animals they have, they'll be formidable.' Conor couldn't help feeling a little inflated by the praise" (150). But . . . he didn't really praise the kids, he praised their animals???

Barlow has a point about Greencloak child soldiers. I don't think this problem ever gets fixed??? Like, they should stop sending kids on quests and instead train them. Or, even better, they can have the kids do the Nectar ceremonies. That way, the kids can stay in their homes, not be separated from their families, do a job that will boost that pre-teen ego, and still stay out of danger.

Chapter 14

"She . . . could not help feeling that to praise the magnificence of this wilderness would somehow diminish her and her homeland" (153). Girl, it's not a competition. 

I wonder how everyone else reacted to Meilin's sleepwalking episode in the middle of the woods. Did they even realize it happened? Also Jhi knows their bond is a Bile bond, right? So why didn't she try to warn Meilin?

"'Essix votes for Meilin'" (159). It's a good thing they had Essix endorse Meilin, because it would've been weird if they just let Meilin carry the fight without anyone supporting her stance.

How does Essix know about Meilin's skills? Is it just intuition???

I wouldn't really say Meilin is arrogant, but she is sure of her abilities. Like, she never lets overconfidence get the best of her? It's great. Overly cocky characters suck.

"No! Such doubts were poison. She had to keep her head" (161). I remember this scene so vividly, it's honestly iconic.

"Meilin knew what spots on the thigh would provide maximum discomfort . . . " (162). Yeah, get him.

" . . . she knew how to focus her blows . . . " (163). Hell, yeah.

She beat him so bad. Eleven to zero. Kind of unrealistic that he didn't even get her once, though.

Chapter 15

" . . . Rollan wondered, rising to cross to his horse" (164). When is the iconic Rollan-horse rivalry going to begin? So far, he seems to be on good terms with his horse, and it's been weeks. 

"Conor shrugged. 'If we want the talisman'" (165). He's so straightforward, it's great.

Genuinely forgot how good Rollan and Conor's friendship was in this book. Like, it was actually good before Hunted's ending ruined it.

Conor and Rollan are once again talking about Meilin behind her back, except this time Meilin could actually overhear them.

"Rollan couldn't believe this was becoming a competition. 'Look, my terrible childhood is all I've got! Don't you dare try to top it'" (167). LMFAO.

Rollan and Essix bonding moment, my beloved.

" . . . they reached a precarious stretch where the horses could not pass" (173). What did they do with them, then? Did they just leave them on top of a mountain?

Arax is actually not that bad of a Great Beast, like when he thought they came for advice, he just gave it freely, without asking for anything.

Chapter 16

"'I like the color of your cloak, Rollan'" (180). Zerif really thinks he's smarter than he is.

"'Abeke!' Meilin called . . . " (180). HOW DOES MEILIN KNOW ABEKE'S NAME??? PLOTHOLE???

"The tension between [Briggan and Uraza] made Meilin ready her quarterstaff" (180). Why is there tension??? They're friends???

Meilin assuring Conor! Bonding moment!

Jhi just made a cougar fall asleep and Meilin's reaction is "Better than nothing"??? 

"Uraza snarled, batting at [Essix] with lethal paws" (183). WHY IS URAZA FIGHTING THEM???

Seriously, how does Meilin know Abeke's name? It's never been mentioned to her.

I forgot that Shane is a way better fighter than Meilin. And Rollan. Combined.

Chapter 17

"Shane fought a Zhongese girl who was putting up surprising resistance considering how young and small she looked" (185). Shane is only a year older, though???

"Then a boy with Shane's wolverine dangling from his arm tackled Shane from behind" (187). Rollan???

*narrator voice* It was, in fact, Rollan.

Arax kept his talisman in a box??? For real???

Barlow throwing Arax off a cliff is so iconic.

"A stab in the back. The lowest blow one could deliver" (193). Abeke's sense of honor is so opposite to Meilin's (Meilin is all take whatever advantage you can get). Would've been interesting if they had used that to fuel their antagonism, somehow.

Aw, Meilin cries at Barlow's death.

Barlow and Monte giving more-than-friends energy.

"'If it can be managed, dispose of me in a green cloak'" (194). Okay, what??? Barlow spent no time even seeming to warm up to them, though??? Like I get he used to be one, but it's still weird considering his animosity toward them???

"'The trick will be getting him to the horses'" (195). Okay, so they didn't abandon the horses.

Chapter 18

"Monte had traveled with them . . . to renew his vows" (196). Again, it really feels like we went from the pair not liking the Greencloaks to immediately being chill with them???

Passive! State! Briggan!

"Meilin and Abeke were with him, wearing their green cloaks" (197). Abeke became a Greencloak immediately, too? I guess it makes sense . . . she needs their trust. Also, all the four first moment!

"Direct conversation with Meilin tended to fluster him" (198). Cinnamon roll, who?

"'I respect you three for joining . . . Especially you, Abeke'" (198). So Rollan was a-okay with Abeke in the first book, but in the second, he's not???

Also, a long paragraph like that feels so . . . off for Rollan??? I don't know how to describe it.

Chapter 19

Wombats freed Gerathon??? Don't remember this.

"As promised, it had finally been delivered to him. Years of work would culminate tonight" (200). I'm pretty sure the guy is Zerif. Did the key come from Halawir???

"They were in thrall to the presence beneath the mound" (201). Can Great Beasts control normal animals???

This guy is for sure being controlled by Gerathon's "pull" or whatever.

Oh, wait. I'm pretty sure Gerathon eats this guy.

Final thoughts and rating:

The writing was pretty good, I feel, except for some weird grammar here and there, like missing commas, but I can forgive that. The formal tone really sets you in the world, so I thought that was good. The way the worldbuilding was done is also really good, they save the majority of the info-dumps for the middle part, after the reader has a good feel for the world. Definitely a good choice. I feel like the book towed the line between emotional and logical, so that's good. Nobody acted unbearably stupid, always a plus. Also, I really like how they excluded any scenes that weren't strictly necessary, because I feel like a lot of authors nowadays feel the need to drag out their books so much???

I will say the death of Barlow plays into a trope where a character will be introduced more than halfway through only to be killed at the end, which I think is a pretty cheap way to generate emotion. I think it would've hit harder if he'd been there since the beginning and then gotten killed? Or if he'd had a stronger bond with them? Meilin knowing Abeke's name is definitely a plot hole, Barlow and Monte warmed way too easily to the Greencloaks, and Rollan definitely seemed out of character at the end. 

Rating: 8/10