#ngl i thought his parents would barely be characters

[save-the-earthworms]

One thing I didn't expect from TGCF was Xie Lian's daddy issues

[tteokdoroki]

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— earbuds, my love + yoichi isagi.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — a single train ride has you sharing your headphones and your feelings with your long time crush, yoichi isagi.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, fluff, friends to lovers, love confessions, mutual pining, pro player!isagi, fem!reader - not beta read !

⭑ words — 1K.

⭑ notes — third fic queued for aali's away time, one of my many isagi wips! he's literally ceo of friends to lovers ngl !! i love him so bad... enjoy my lurvs - m.list ✩

“this song makes me feel like i’m falling in love with someone.”

isagi glances up at you from his phone, no longer shuffling the playlist that you’re both listening to. you’re looking out of the window, your feet propped up on the back of the seat in front of you, your head resting on your closed fist. you miss the way he flushes red.

“do you want to keep listening to it then?” he mumbles softly, thumb hovering over the slip button and his voice just barely above a whisper. you almost don’t hear you despite the fact that you’re sharing headphones and only have one ear-bud in while he takes the other.

this time, you tilt your head away from the window and the scenery passing by to lock eyes with your childhood best friend. “no, s’okay,” you say, your voice equally as low. “you can change it if you’d like.” your facial expression is tranquil, the swell of your lips pressed into an appreciative smile and your eyes sparkling with the sunlight that glitters outside of your moving train.

isagi’s nerves quickly get the better of him and he breaks eye contact, swallowing thickly before looking away with his own smile (mostly for himself).

“i think we’ll keep listening to it.”

you’re both on the train from the bustling city of tokyo back to the tiny town you both grew up in. with the off-season approaching, japan’s beloved striker had finally managed to get some time away from the blue lock team to visit his parents, and you were off on your university’s allotted spring-break.

this was the first time, in what felt like forever, that your calendars were synced up.

your bond with isagi had always been strong — from the very first moment you’d met, back in middle school when he’d kicked a soccer ball straight into your lunch and then instantly offered to buy you a new one. impossible to separate, you were joined at the hip right up until he left for blue lock. these days, your paths rarely cross and while isagi’s career in soccer bloomed like you always knew it would — you went the more traditional route of life and found passion in your own university degree.

after some moments of quiet, aside from the children crying in their mother’s arms, teenagers gossiping on their way home from junior high and the calls from the attendant manning the snack cart — isagi speaks up, shyly. “who…who would you be in love with? yanno…because of this song…”

“some guy, i’ve known him for years.”

“does he know…how you feel about him?” you shake your head and isagi presses you again. “have you tried telling him?”

“gods no, yoichi!” you wave him off almost too quickly — curling in on yourself like a highschool girl handing her crush a confession letter or chocolates on white day. perhaps because this is exactly like that. you’ve liked him, loved him, for as long as you can remember. he makes your skin hot and your thoughts a mess and when isagi’s nearby you hardly remember who you are.

and he hardly realises how lovesick you’ve been for him over the years. it would be too embarrassing to admit that you have a raging crush on one of japan’s favourite athletes.

“why not?”

“because…if he felt the same he would have noticed by now.” you answer, trying to shut down the conversation. “i’ve been obvious with my feelings. the ball’s been in his court for a while.”

“maybe he’s just oblivious.” isagi keeps going and in the cramped space of your train seats you feel hot under the collar — your nerves shaking under the pressure.

you’re given a brief moment of relief when the attendant on the snack cart stops for the couple seated opposite you. they seem happy and in love, it makes your heart twist.

the train jolts, pushing the attendant into isagi, who then topples into you — invading your space once more, causing heat to build up under your skin.

“h-he’s a way too smart for that.”

“maybe…he’s unsure? maybe he doesn’t understand your signals?”

the song you’re listening too changes as you pull into the next station.

“or maybe he doesn’t love me, yoichi!” you snap, turning your head away so fast that the ear-bud slips from your ears and the wires are left dangling between the warmth of isagi’s body and your own. you try to sit still, fighting off burning, frustrated tears — lucky that no one’s heard your outburst over the busy ambience of the train. “believe me, i’ve held out hope for it.”

“but i do love you.” he snaps back, grabbing you by the wrist so that you’re forced to look at him. isagi’s eyes are wide and deep, swirling in their hypnotising shade of blue with an emotion you don’t recognise seeing on him. love. “maybe you’re the one who’s dumb enough not to have noticed. maybe i’ve been too shy or too caught up with soccer to say so. but i love you. i want that song to make you feel like you’re in love with me.”

“o-oh…yoichi i—“ your eyes widen, then soften all at once and you feel yourself melting fast — as if all of your dreams have come true. “i don’t know what to say…”

the tips of his ears are bright pink, the hue blooming across his cheeks like they’re roses in bloom. yoichi chews on his lower lip nervously before shoving the right bud of the headphones back into your ear. “just say you like me back ‘nd we’ll leave it at that for now, okay?” he mumbles like a teenager, very much unlike the confident, cocky isagi who everyone fears on the pitch.

wisps of a grin tug at the corners of your lips as you reach out and grab his larger hand with yours — giving it a squeeze. “alright then, yoichi,” you say, leaning over to kiss the warmth of his cheeks. “i like you too.” his eyes go wide.

this is all silly and new for the both of you — having been in love with one another for years without saying. you’ll have a lot to talk about once you reach his parents’ house, how you’ll make this work with his soccer career and your new life in the big city, what you want this to be, who you’ll tell. but for now you try not to dwell on it, letting your head flop to isagi’s shoulder and his on top of yours, sharing headphones and listening to songs that made him fall in love with you.

[mikuni14]

I Hear The Sunspot - Ep 10

I won't lie if I say that series that create dramas out of nothing, creating problems and scenarios that are far removed from the ordinary lives of millions of people around the world, kind of annoy me 🙃 Kohei and Taichi's relationship is getting more and more weird and unnatural, and they had such a good flow in episodes 1-6. Taichi, who didn't allow any bullshit and openly confronted Kohei and everyone he met, is now unable to communicate. Kohei, who had a tendency to blurt out confessions about his feelings, is now unable to communicate. We also had scenes of them being shy, hiding, which were eventually resolved by contacting/meeting/ even visiting home, and we keep going back to the same point over and over again. Although that's not even it: I complained about the repetition, but now they're back to a point where they never even were. Besides, I really have the impression that the series creates artificial drama, the lack of communication has reached astronomical proportions, they either do not talk to each other AT ALL, and when they meet for a second, when they are not with Maya, they barely talk about important stuff, which was not a problem for them before. They cannot talk, they cannot make an appointment and meet with each other alone like adults, they do not use phones, they cannot get rid of Maya for 5 seconds.

I am generally furious with Kohei that he cannot once and properly put Maya down for her words and behavior towards Taichi, if someone spoke shit like that about someone I like - not even my close friend or crush, and someone like that is supposedly Taichi for Kohei - we would have a serious conversation about it: either stay and shut the fuck up, or leave.

I absolutely hate how Maya described Taichi not knowing him at all and how Kohei immediately thought of it when he saw Taichi making a decision about his life, career and future. What the actual FUCK. Am I the only one who sees Taichi's life as being quite lonely and supporting himself and going to college and working and helping Kohei? And how he has to think about himself and his future because he has no supportive parents and no one will do it for him? How can anyone even think of him as doing it all thoughtlessly or on purpose? Or that he "abandons Kohei" because he is a stupid and cruel person who never cared? ☹

What is the point of this BL at all, since there has been no BL for the last 4 episodes, and the main characters are drifting further and further away from each other with each episode. Why don't they struggle with all these adversities, problems TOGETHER. What is the point of all this, since there is no "togetherness" in it! 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

I just... I just love Kohei so much and he seems very lonely to me now. I started shipping him with Chiba-kun ngl, with whom he currently has the most chemistry and scenes lmao

On the one hand, it's not so good that the grandfather isn't more helpful and advising on the young man's important life decisions, on the other hand, the fact that he doesn't make a drama out of these decisions is a big relief for him 😊 Even if Taichi makes a bad decision, he'll have a place to go back to and he'll have the support of his grandfather, who won't make him feel bad about it or say "I told you so". Taichi is still young, he can do whatever he wants, he can go back to college someday, these are no longer the times when people had to make the most important life decisions before the age of 25, which were also irreversible. I think it was a good scene.

But what's worst about all this is that the series got itself tangled up in its own plot, because we don't have a single hint since ep 6 that Taichi is responding to Kohei's feelings, so this whole drama makes no sense. Since they have nothing in common romantically, if they want, they can meet up after work/school (although they haven't managed to do that yet lol) as friends, write to each other (also something they can't do) and live their own lives. Kohei can meet up with Maya since he prefers her company anyway, and Taichi can pursue his career. After all - there is no BL in this BL, so why the drama?

This show has become such a mess. But it would still be a "managable" mess if Kohei and Taichi had more than one scene per episode where something actually happened between them. And we didn't even have the aftermath of the famous "what if I didn't hate it". Like it never happened...

[beanghostprincess]

zolu or frobin for the ship thing!!

YAY I THOUGHT NOBODY WOULD ASK ME ANYTHING NGL AUIBFJKASFDFBFASBFJK

zolu: they make me mentally, physically, and spiritually ill. they're one of my favorite ships if not my favorite ship of all one piece. actually heavily surprised they aren't more popular, but i'm glad opla is kind of changing that. anyway- i've been shipping them since day 1. zoro's devotion to luffy is something i will never get tired of. the fact that he does not believe in any god canonically but the way he follows luffy is so easy to compare to religious imagery makes me weak in the knees and wanting to curl up and cry. zoro is luffy's anchor and the one that guides him when he's lost, and luffy is the one that saved zoro from a life of loneliness and gave him the chance to follow a dream he would have never fulfilled if he had continued on his own. luffy is, kind of literally, his sun. and i'm not even talking about moon/sun dynamics. i don't even consider them to be that specific trope. luffy is literally his sun and god and best friend and boyfriend and captain and everything. if you ask zoro what is luffy for him? his everything. that silly rubber guy? his captain. his sun. his moon. his stars. his dream. also!!! people never talk about luffy's pov when it comes to zolu, and it makes me so so so mad!!!! because his perception of zoro is so beautiful. luffy trusts him with his whole soul and would leave the crew on his bare hands if he needed to. zoro's his first mate. that's a captain's heart, man. luffy might be the captain but he's emotional and irrational, and he listens to what zoro has to say. their silent communication makes me want to bang my head against the concrete floor. luffy relies on him and zoro lets his guard down when it comes to luffy. they're so in love, whether you see it romantically or platonically... i love that they're so clingy and silly and so so so powerful together. if something happened to the other their worlds would literally be completely ruined. their love literally goes beyond romantic and platonic. they're the perfect definition of queer platonic. honestly, i'm not fond of luffy in sexual situations but when it comes to zolu it's just so easy to picture them being so so intimate... i'm gonna cry writing this they're so dear to me.

frobin: i want them to adopt me so damn much. my parents. mom and dad. i usually hate it when people use family labels when it comes to found family, because the point of found family is that they're not a conventional family but they love each other even more deeply than a blood related one does. however, this is my exception because i really really really think they give married vibes and i want them as my parents. their dynamic is so good!! perhaps it's just the fact that their arcs are basically the same one and they're the main characters of water 7/enies lobby (along with our dear god usopp. shout out to my boyfriend out there!!) but their backstories and dynamic are sooooo satisfactory and angsty and domestic to watch (yes, all at the same time). robin's personality is gentle and sweet but also kind of dark and satiric, with a lot of pain behind from her past. franky, on the other hand, is a big, funny, eccentric and extremely adorable guy with an emotional touch and a lot of energy. at first it's just "big funny guy x sweet gentle girl" but in reality is "big funny guy that always takes care of everyone with a smile on his face and is extremely protective of the one he loves x sweet gentle girl that is learning how to enjoy life and will protect her new family at all costs". it's not just the angst and hurt/comfort of it all, though! i love the fact that she's satiric and dark and he's just- he's just fucking scared of her sometimes. and tbh if you're not scared of your hot, goth, intelligent wife, what's the point? you know that meme of will smith showing off his wife? that's literally them. robin does anything and he's there supporting her. franky does anything and she's there saying "that idiot right there is my husband *tiny giggle*". anyway, basically they're very gentle and domestic and i wish my parents loved me the way they would please please franky and robin kiss get married and then adopt me plea-

TL;TR: i love both ships a lot! 10/10 <3

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Salt & Storybook

This fic is also available on Wattpad or AO3, if you would prefer to read it elsewhere.

⸻

@heya-there-friends and @wisteriaum Yes, the whump fic is out! And here it is!

Hopefully, if I meet your expectations, I’d be like a magician announcing an act:

Step up, one and all, Evers and Nevers, young and old—step right up to witness the death-defying struggles of one Rafal Mistral! The great Rafal, horrifically maltreated by his own Pen, tortured within an enclosure of his own “design!” After all, there is no rest for the wicked…

Anyway, have fun. I sure did. Ngl, whilst I wrote this one, it kind of became a laugh riot at Rafal’s expense. So, don’t kill me. I’ve done a lot of damage.

CONTENT WARNING:

If you do not like dark humor, graphic depictions of violence and injury, and/or do not like the thought of Rafal being physically tortured, please, do not read this fic, or read it at your own discretion. I do not want to upset anyone. So, that is why I’m telling you this now: that probably, by most standards, I’ve been really cruel to him.

The fic contains the following:

Alcohol, vandalism, book burning, physical assault and punishment (by the Pen), disproportionate retribution as revenge, some swearing on the milder side, depiction of injuries.

Thus, potential for violence in my TOTSMOV41 WIP aside, this is literally the absolute meanest I’ve ever been to Rafal.

And, Rafal is a bit of a silly goose (not in a good way) due to his impaired judgment. Though, I tried to keep him in character. Rhian should’ve grounded him in the absence of their parents. But it was too late.

Summary:

Rafal does some much needed “spring cleaning” to remove every trace of Vulcan from his tower and gets far more pain than he bargained for in return.

Or

Rafal has an idiotic episode after the resolution to the Vulcan fiasco while Rhian is oblivious.

Context:

This fic takes place during Rise, shortly after Vulcan’s murder and slightly before Rafal’s renovations to Evil and his torture of the Never students.

It is also somewhat plotless, so I could call it a character study. The exposition part towards the beginning was essentially my premise for writing the whump in the first place, which is why there is some lead-up prior to the action.

⸻

With an impish gleam in his eyes, Rafal blasted the glass display cases Vulcan had left behind to smithereens, spraying the stone walls and floors of his tower with razor-edged shards and splinters of glass.

Then, from Vulcan’s black desk, he dashed a cluster of black crystals to the floor for good measure.

The floor crunched underfoot with every step he took, a mosaic of inedible salt and pepper, as he whistled the shanty he’d composed, mentally gliding through the lyrics:

I asked the queen. . .

What is more pathetic than a Vulcan?

She said: Nothing I’ve seen!

He ground the shards into the grooves between the stone tiles, pulverizing most of what remained. The coarser flecks of glass dust caught in the traction of his boots, and it struck Rafal that he’d have to sweep up his mess before Rhian accused it of being a hazard to their eyes or lungs. Ah well. One more task to add to his steadily growing list. But it was all worthwhile.

No longer would his chambers be a stultifying “museum,” dedicated to the past exploits and conquests of that vile man. It was first and foremost his study.

Rafal sunk into one of the leftover black leather chairs, the one by the desk, and picked up the wineglass he hadn’t been attending to, swilling the garnet liquid around before taking another sip.

Just yesterday, when the brothers had supped together for the first time in six months, Rafal had gotten into an argument with Rhian about the restorations to be made to the silver tower and all the changes he’d already enacted in his School and its curriculum.

He would rather have lived in a bare cell than spend a minute longer in the company of Vulcan’s things, but Rhian had objected, saying the enemy’s furnishings were better than none at all.

And Rhian had further countered Rafal’s calls for immediate action, claiming they had all the time in the world, and to not be childish and impatient. With time, Rhian had said, he could devise a tasteful, new decorating scheme and between the two of them, they could even enjoy all the odds and ends Vulcan had left lying about in his wake.

Yet Rafal was having none of that. Their first order of business was not mindlessly pleasuring themselves but removal—no, it was the complete erasure and sterilization of the premises. That’s what would be done with the remains. Not the human ones though.

Rafal had eventually relented on that matter as Rhian had staunchly drawn the line at Rafal mounting Vulcan’s severed head on a wall as he’d once said. Thus, the head was discarded before it ever had the chance to rot.

Aside from Rafal’s efforts to claim a mortal trophy to no avail, everything else was proceeding smoothly—contrary to Rhian’s wishes. Rafal was still adamant that everything which so much as stunk of Vulcan’s musky cologne vanished from their sight as soon as possible. After all he’d endured to retake their School, he deserved to have his way, that much Rhian owed him.

Glancing out the window, he observed phase one of his plan already coming to a close as his chest swole with heady, vinous pride.

That very moment, thick, churning smoke laden with ash clogged the skies overhead, curling around Evil’s spires—physical proof he had retaken his School.

He stood up and inhaled the noxious fumes and drained the rest of his glass before setting it down again. He was recommitted all right. Here, he’d remain, ’til the end of time.

The spectacle far below was truly a sight to behold. Rafal had burnt the entirety of Vulcan’s life’s work in a great, purging pyre.

Gone now were the steaming, taxidermied bats, the mirror of molten, incandescent glass, the barechested portrait, warped and discolored, and more grotesque than ever, the deformed periscope Rafal had knocked the lenses out of, and the desiccated roses with their petals flaking off into the ether—it was all worthless memorabilia, everything, transformed into a charred, lifeless, amorphous mass that still smoldered this very hour, the objects caving in on themselves, the dying embers retreating into the disordered miscellany.

Rafal set his glass down, hesitated, and poured another up to the brim in celebration. The rising heat was hellish.

All that was left to do was buff away the gilded bats carved into the stairs and he would be rid of that loathsome viper forever. Then, his chosen renovations and agenda would commence, carried out by Humburg, his Stymphs, and the Man-Wolves.

But, he couldn’t get ahead of himself. He sipped from his glass, savoring the bitterness of the red wine, and set it down firmly.

Then he set to work, freeing the storybooks.

The benighted Vulcan had stowed the tales away in massive, black leather chests that had been ignorantly shoved aside, stacked slantedly like a slag heap in half-shadowed corners.

Coarse, drunken pirate. The imbecile was wholly unfit to direct the course of Evil’s future. Only Rafal could be capable of manning such an operation, charting such a course for the students once again under his eminent tutelage.

Hand aglow with black, he whisked his glass off the desk again, floating it over to himself, and took another swig before setting it on the floor beside him. He’d cleared away a small oasis for himself to sit in, until he swept up the shards decking the floors all around him.

The alcohol burned his throat, matching his surfacing rage as his head clouded.

No one would replace the storybooks on the tower’s shelves if he didn’t, he thought resentfully.

His brother had done enough damage already. Enough was enough. He wasn’t Rhian’s personal manservant. What a degrading role that would be.

But Rhian never remembered to clean up after himself, and the books had to get onto the shelves in some way or another.

Rafal exhaled. His brother was in dire need of a lecture, but first, Rafal carped to himself, the task of cleaning up lay before him.

He and he alone would restore the storybooks to their former, casual glory in their places of honor, just as the brothers themselves had been restored by the Pen.

Naturally, Rafal stacked all of Evil’s tales at the top of the tower’s shelves, for his own reference. Rhian surely wouldn’t quarrel with him after all the work was done.

Besides, it was true. Rafal was the only one willing to do it all. To forge order out of inscrutable chaos, mogrify the failed students at every class’ graduation, attend to the Stymphs, clean up the rubble, execute invaders, burn up the corpses—he took on all sins, all so his Ever brother wouldn’t have to lift a finger and stain his hands.

All for naught, was it?

No, Rafal consoled himself. Definitely not. Rhian couldn’t be trusted to do a thing.

Rhian was too cowardly and weak to handle the more gruesome chores on Rafal’s roster. He’d invited a numbskull substitute in, to replace his own brother with.

That batty substitute had no place in his School. Vulcan hadn’t even been a true Never. Not in name or in memory.

Rafal lifted his glass to his lips and tossed back more of his jewel-toned drink, blood and heat and vigor rushing to the surface of his alabaster skin.

If he had missed anything, every piece of evidence, every last little shred of a reminder would be burnt to the ground, even if it took both castles down with it, he decided right then and there. He would will it to happen.

He set his glass down on a stone tile.

No matter if the taxidermied bats could’ve raked in a tidy profit. He didn’t need material wealth when he had sorcery. The usurper’s mere presence had overstayed its welcome and Rafal intended to do something about it.

He picked up his drink again and downed half of it, swallowing the wine quickly as the rest sloshed onto the floor, glinting a deep ruby in the dim, afternoon light.

He scowled. More mess to clean up.

Rafal squeezed the fine, crystal stem of his wineglass with a vise-like grip. It snapped in two—just like how he would snap Vulcan’s spine in two, if the man ever dared return from the dead.

The glass had splintered under the pressure he’d applied, needly slivers sticking into his fingers, pricking his palm, until his pale hand was dotted with pinpricks of blood.

As always, the blood suctioned itself right in, drawn back by an invisible force, and the pinpricks sealed themselves up.

Rafal tended to cast off pain with ease, like it was just another one of his overcoats. By now, he was numb to little cuts like these, unlike his foolhardy yet absurdly delicate brother.

He scraped himself off the floor, up to his feet again, and staggered over to the last chest.

Then, he thrust the chest’s weighty lid back, and lifted out the first stack of storybooks.

His fingers grazed the gold-foiled title of the first book in the stack.

In a glaring, grandiose script, the tale’s cover read: THE UGLY DUCKLING.

Duckling.

Rafal grimaced as his temper flared, revulsion climbing up his throat. Then, his resolve hardened. He’d vowed to strip this place of Vulcan, and he would.

The other storybooks fell out of his grasp and clattered to the floor, face up at the one still locked in his grasp.

Duckling indeed.

Rafal flipped the front cover of the storybook open and tore out a single page.

The page sailed down and landed at his feet, settling lightly atop the broken display glass and fragments of wineglass.

Then, he grasped a stiff handful of pages, the heavy paper twisting, warping only slightly, and finally bending in on itself as he wrenched it apart from the book’s spine.

The paper’s edges sliced into his hand, drawing blood from cuts that vanished as soon as they appeared.

He let the handful he’d ripped out scatter to the wind.

Some pages flew out the window. Others dropped into the greedy, licking flames of the fireplace, curling in on themselves, blackening, joining the soot.

The rest of the pages, he extracted one by one, methodical in his process, tearing each painstakingly lettered sheet from its seams, which had been sewn together with care, as if he were plucking feathers from a wild fowl to be cooked—now, just a hollow, pageless shell of binding left in his hands.

Without a second thought, Rafal slung the storybook’s empty binding into the bright, steadily burning fire.

It caught on the fireplace’s grate, angled like a broken bird.

Rafal heaved a great sigh of relief. Gone. At last.

Then, fully satisfied with himself, he surveyed his efforts at cleaning up, even if the room looked worse than how it had begun this morning. Still, he cast his gaze over the terrain of reshelved tales, spilt wine, scattered glass and black crystal, and the few, loose pages pinned to the floor, wedged underneath the broken glass, fluttering in the breeze.

Despite everything, he felt accomplished.

It was only when he caught sight of the Pen, suspended and still, that he remembered he wasn’t alone. He was being watched.

Not long before, the Pen had stood, vertically suspended in the air over its lectern, its gleaming metal cool, but now, it scalded hotter and hotter, angrily searing hot as a branding iron. Then, it tilted, tip glowing red like a reproachful eye.

Rafal simply stared back, waiting for the Pen’s response. Yet, it did not move, a fact which puzzled him.

The Pen’s tip brightened to a blinding, radiant, white pinprick, as if it were readying itself to defend its tales from the scourge of Evil it had allowed to take up residence in its tower.

Rafal squinted at the light. What was it up to?

That was when he glimpsed something launching out of the fireplace in his peripheral vision.

The storybook’s binding rocketed out from its resting place, where it had nested in the grate, flying at him like a missile, sizzling through the air, like a shot bird with its flaming wingspan spread, its front and back covers open, its spine cracked.

A corner of the binding struck Rafal square in the eye. Hard.

Only one foggish, halfway lucid thought flashed through Rafal’s mind as he squinched his eyes shut: It was taunting him. Mocking his flight.

His face gnarled in pain as he doubled over before crumpling to the floor like an ungainly egret.

Splayed on the floor, Rafal hissed, clawing at his eye, knocking the smoldering mass away from his face. Then, he drew himself up into a crouch, his torso supported by shaking forearms, his hands pressed against the glass-strewn floor, jagged edges cutting through the fabric of his slacks at the knees and into his palms as he tried to sweep some of the fragments away.

Hell. Just Hell. He should’ve cleaned up sooner.

He supposed he was done with cleaning today, come what may, and that he should get started on the glass.

Yet first, Rafal strained his neck and examined his distorted, many-eyed reflections in the shards beneath him, prodding the skin near his wounded eye. His fingertips came away with bright blood.

A few areas of his face still bled slightly, gradually mending themselves, thin rivulets of blood trickling down his neck, criss-crossing in a fine, thorny latticework, ultimately staining his starched, white shirt collar.

He rose to his feet slowly and latched onto a shelf as he faltered for a moment, attempting to regain his balance. Then, he drew himself fully upright again, as if nothing had happened. And, with one hand still gripping the shelf’s edges, he unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, the one, restrictive one that always pressed against the base of his throat, so he could breathe properly and catch his breath.

Rafal sighed in relief. He’d served the absurd, seemingly arbitrary punishment the Pen had dealt him and it was now well over with.

Then, the Storian moved.

His every muscle tensing, Rafal clutched the shelf harder as it creaked under his death grip, his knuckles white as bone. About to bolt for the open window, he realized his legs were stiff and cold, a cramp shooting through his side from his last fall.

Straight as an arrow, the Storian tore through the air toward Rafal, dead set on harming him.

By some miracle, Rafal caught the Pen, letting go of the shelf as he dropped to the floor, not without taking the entire floor-to-ceiling bookcase down with him.

Rafal willed himself not to scream as his eyes widened in horror at a great shadow looming over him, deepening seconds before the crash as vertigo overtook his senses.

Were the pages whirling around him? It couldn’t be bats amid those ink-hatched illustrations. It couldn’t! Not when Vulcan was gone. Not when Vulcan was dead.

As it neared, the bookcase grew larger and larger in Rafal’s sightline, rushing forward rapidly, encroaching on him, almost eclipsing him. Blood roared in his ears and rushed to his head tossed back at a perilous angle, right before he shunted himself back, turning, his back towards the storybooks’ spines, as books fell out at random, several hardcovers hitting his flailing extremities as they poured out and passed him by en route to the floor, one solid thud after another.

The bookcase had narrowly missed his core, but it had trapped his legs, pinning him to the floor, slowly leaching away his vitality as his head swum and his vision dimmed, turning to a feathery blur.

All the bones in Rafal’s legs had shattered upon impact, when he made contact with the stone, bone spearing through his split skin, drenching his pant legs in hot, rapidly clotting blood as he choked aridly on what little spittle he had, too parched to scream, blinking away the blackness at the edges of his vision.

His bones immediately started to knit themselves back together, but refused to heal completely, for, the soul-crushing force of the bookcase still bore down on him, mincing all the unrepaired fragments in his legs.

Leaning on his elbows, Pen still clasped tight his grip, Rafal set his jaw, soldiered through his faintness, and tried to drag himself forward, out from underneath the suffocating weight of history, scraping slowly over the flagstones still littered with glass.

Suppose his bones joined the shards. Then what?

He freed his hips and one of his legs, struggling further, but found he was effectively immobilized for the time being. Only his ankle was caught now, but it would’ve been unwise to dislocate his leg from its socket by yanking it any harder than he was already.

The structure of the shelf collapsed further, the more he struggled beneath it, like a snare closing in on a bird, threatening to cut off its circulation—but if he could just loosen his foot from these damn planks, it…

It was like the Pen wished to teach him a lesson by entombing him, entombing him here, under the weight of every fairy tale he’d ever taught.

Rafal’s face burned.

EVIL SCHOOL MASTER ENCASED AMONG MANUSCRIPTS—he could picture the words emblazoned atop every paper in the Woods, documenting this final humiliation, all the next day’s headlines shouting and blaring in Rhian’s face.

The Evers would pop champagne bottles. His students would dance over his grave—dancing in the chequer’d shade… come forth to play, on a sunshine holiday—how’d that line go? And which tale was it from?

Wrapped in a delirium, he thought of the sprawling tale of Satan’s fall. Demon, chastened and exiled. Hell. What had he gotten himself into? Hell.

At least Rhian would mourn him, he thought grimly, and shook his head, his rage simmering. The boards wouldn’t loosen around his foot!

Rafal swallowed a heaving breath and let it settle in his chest like a stone. There he lay on his bed of glass, still holding the Pen, now hoisting it aloft, over his stone-abraded face, as it glinted in the light, his arms outstretched in a perverse kind of victory, absolutely sloshed and nearly slain, by his own shelf, by his own Pen, by his own hand.

Another thought surfaced suddenly, unbidden: He could lift it all with his sorcery.

But at that thought, the Storian sparked to life.

Hell. That Pen. To Hell with it.

The ancient script running down the side of the Pen glowed and cast shadowy glyphs across the floor, refracted light catching in the glass, piercing Rafal’s eyes, and the strange markings heated, the Pen’s shaft scorching against his palms, causing Rafal to loosen his grip slightly as he tried not to let go.

Yet, the Storian prevailed and wrested itself from Rafal’s grip, slipping out from his fingers with ease, likely readying itself for a second wave.

Gritting his teeth, Rafal steeled himself for action, both hands alit as he at once summoned the last of his magic, drawing from his deepest reserves, from his lifeblood.

Working through his total exhaustion, he managed to lift the bookcase up at a modest tilt, by only a few hairs’ widths—yet that was enough for him to crawl out from underneath it.

He hauled himself up onto his feet again with most of his weight distributed on his better-healed leg, thinking about slaking his thirst, punishment presumed to be over.

Just then, a cool gust of wind blew in, battering the diaphanous, silver curtains Rhian had put up, as if it meant to revive him, and Rafal turned away from the Pen to the window.

That was the moment the Storian chose to attack with a new vengeance, redoubling its efforts against Evil incarnate.

Some unseen force from within the tower flung Rafal across the chamber, casting him onto his side as he skid across the dining table, long limbs catching in the folds of the tablecloth, his obtruding form sending Rhian’s once deftly arranged table settings—now clashing utensils and dishes and glasses—flying before they smashed against the far wall along with Rafal’s skull as he clenched his teeth at the sheer percussive force of the collision.

To wit, it had to be the Pen. What else? Rafal griped. A fairy-tale punishment fit for a fairy-tale villain?

His ears rang with the strident sounds of shattering bone china and clanging metal, ricocheting off the wall as plate shards rained down on him, the whole tumult reverberating like he was trapped in an echo chamber with a cavalcade.

The din resounded as his side throbbed and he kicked blindly at the bonds of tangled tablecloth wound around his legs. Part of the white cloth had settled over his head, draping like a sheet, and he couldn’t see anything, couldn’t see any of the ruins about him, much less sit up.

Finally, he tore the cloth back viciously, reclaiming his sight in a huff. Apparently, a singular knife had skimmed past his heart and had instead lanced through the flaccid fabric of his shirt, burying itself between the stone tiles.

Rafal groaned and turned over rigidly, his shirt tearing around the knife blade as he settled for lying prone, bloodied cheek to the floor, small cuts abound, droplets of blood blooming across his shirt and the tablecloth.

Then, Rafal rolled his eyes back to the ceiling and noticed the Pen hovering above him. He dealt it a withering glare from below, not yet beaten into submission, and reached upwards with tremorous arms to grasp at it.

The Storian appeared to glare back as it flitted out of his reach, darting back and forth archly as if to tease him, rendering all his exertion futile.

That was when the Storian made to invoke a final crescendo to complete Rafal’s torture. It descended on Rafal with an exhilarating swoop as the School Master shielded his eyes, burying his face in his shuddering arms, bracing himself for excruciating pain, fervid blood coursing through him as he tried to propel himself onto his feet and act, but he felt as if he’d sunken into the floor. He couldn’t move!

And the Storian didn’t hold back.

Its nib ripped through the back of his shirt, tip to flesh, sharp as a spindle, glowing with white-hot ire. It then raked over his exposed back, his neck, and the back of his arms.

Eyes watering insanely, Rafal hissed and rasped for breath, abject fury surging through his veins. A strangled gasp left his lips—he wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d been choked to death by his own slit throat.

One stroke after another, the Storian lashed across his skin, slashing with a capricious flourish.

He was sure that it intended to flay him alive, and he’d never gotten the chance to say goodbye to Rhian, he thought morosely, head dulling.

These cuts were worse than the time the vampiric, literal blood-sucking, ruby-throated hummingbirds of Akgul had swarmed him. The Never mining kingdom bred them specifically to flit around, slit the throats and tear to shreds the clothes of any passerby who ventured too close to the vaults which were filled to the brim with riches.

Those cuts had been shallow, mere scratches that had closed in a matter of seconds. These lacerations were flesh-deep.

And the Storian didn’t cease moving. Again and again, it slit open his flesh.

Rafal choked out another gasp and pressed himself into the serrated glass and crockery below him as if he could escape the terror above, and shifted onto his side, realizing his mistake immediately as he remembered.

The salt.

The night before, his routine dinner argument with Rhian had culminated in his act of hurling a glass salt shaker at his brother’s swollen head, for being pompous and self-righteous that day.

Naturally, Rhian had become upset last night—not just because he’d been clocked in the head and not just because Rafal had obstinately accused him of being an aesthetic-obsessed egomaniac—but because, of course, this all had happened after Rafal had already swept three dishes onto the floor that selfsame week and broken them.

Smashing the fine china had started to convert itself into a regular dinnertime event, much like an extravagant, exceedingly costly, burlesque sideshow. Predictably, Rhian had insisted that bone china plates were a rank pain to replace. And then, he proclaimed that if this, this breach, this delinquent conduct, continued, he would never dine with Rafal again. In sum, this was his tirade directed towards an unresponsive audience of one, one thick-skulled, unsympathetically glacial brother, all the while dramatically bemoaning Rafal’s dramatic tendencies.

Shortly after, both brothers had refused to clean up, each claiming the mess was the other’s fault, Rafal alleging that Rhian was the source of his provocation, that Rhian drove him up the wall and had thereby caused him to lose the plot—and break his tenuous accord with the Pen since it had last resisted his will over the matter of Aladdin’s placement.

And, the miserable result of these acts was that the salt shaker had cracked open and emptied all its contents—all over the very tract of tower floor Rafal had just rolled over onto. All due to the Pen.

Damn the little devil! Rafal fumed, writhing as his flesh was stuck by glass shards and the spilt salt needled its way into his fresh cuts, aggravating them. And his cuts weren’t healing! Instead they stung. Even the shallower scratches hadn’t closed.

The Storian sliced his front, nearing his throat, as he tried to suppress the feeling in his every nerve, awash with a sense of mounting dread as his own movements repeatedly caused him to be pricked by splinters of glass and the rough, tearing grit of the salt, recurrently entering his open wounds.

Why had he thrown the salt at Rhian when Rhian had simply asked him to pass it?

And now, he was paying for his deed. He’d only compounded this, this agony, and the Storian was making sure he knew it.

How much of an absolute sodding fool he was!

Rafal thrashed further, and spat blood in protest once more at the infernal Pen, choking on nothing but air as his tongue went dry and his voice died in his throat.

His eyes turned bleary and itched. It was as if he could feel his nerves drying out and dying with every passing second as the salt absorbed his blood, the skin around his cuts shriveling, even if the cuts themselves widened, rubbed, and stretched open by the salt and debris, which irritated him like sand would’ve, if not for the chemical burn—the prickling, electric flares of sharp, white-hot pain.

And yet, the corroding burn shocked him awake with a revelation, shearing through his senses that had been suffused with the duller pain’s veil.

What if this torment wasn’t just punishment for desecrating a storybook? It was a petty, Evil act, to be sure. But wasn’t that to be expected from him? Why would the Pen retaliate like this then?

And what if it wasn’t just punishment for vandalizing the Pen’s tower? What if he was expected to apologize to Rhian?

Never. What an indignity that would be, he rejected the idea like a foreign body, then stiffened at his first instinct.

But could apologizing be any worse than where he lay now? Perhaps, he should. If he lived through the Pen’s torment, he probably ought to.

In that instant, his vision whirled, reddening, and his body betrayed him, surrendering to the Pen as he blacked out.

⸻

Rafal’s breath hitched as he returned to consciousness. Had the Pen yielded?

He fought to turn his head as he glanced over at the Pen, watching him from across the chamber at a tilt.

Then, the Storian righted itself, stationed back over its lectern, dormant, as if nothing had befallen its master, once again turning a blind eye to Man’s treachery when doing so suited it, as it always did…

A fairy-tale punishment fit for a fairy-tale villain.

What scraps remained of Rafal’s shredded shirt clung to his lean frame. The fabric was soaked through with blood. He shut his eyes for a moment and inhaled. He’d have to peel it off in the bath, likely.

As he sat up, the muscles in his back twisted, exacerbating the pain of the gashes crossing his back, which still stung, continuing to bleed.

The blood loss wouldn’t be fatal, Rafal knew. But, he wondered whether the Pen would let it go on until he fell unconscious again.

His blood wasn’t clotting regularly and it was all the Pen’s fault, for its magical interference, preventing him from healing any quicker than he usually did.

At this rate, he couldn’t foresee the Pen granting him relief from these wounds—not when it believed he deserved to live so he could suffer. All he could do was staunch the bleeding.

Rafal clambered to his feet for what he hoped would be the last time, stumbling forward before he thrust out his arms to hold onto the edge of Vulcan’s desk and keep himself from falling.

He decided to seek out bandages, or rather, any strip of fabric he could tear, save for the tatters of his grimy, thoroughly bloodstained and oxidized shirt, which looked a rusted brown, far from its former, crisp, white state.

The curtains. The curtains would serve well enough. He hobbled over to them, lit his fingerglow to assist himself, and tore away a strip from the gauzy swaths of fabric, shooting the Pen another glare as he trod, breathless, towards the bathroom.

Once within the bathroom, he planned to run himself an ice-cold bath, but first, he’d run the cuts on his arms under the water for a while, to numb himself, so he could recover a greater range of motion.

No need to undress. His clothes were unsalvageable at this point, and he was certain his brother would agree.

Then, anticipating the reprieve of the biting chill, he bent over to turn on the tap, and did not realize that he’d overcorrected himself, headrush returning, knees buckling, as he pitched forward and slammed face-first into the faucet, passing out.

The bathwater continued to gush and his blood continued to flow forth, mottled bruises already forming across his severe pallor.

Rafal’s body slid partway into the tub, and he awoke minutes later, wracked with a dull ache, half his frame slung over the side of the tub, smeared with blood. His head jolted up, hit by the faucet a second time, as shock permeated his body, which was half-submerged in the frigid, faintly pink water. Not that he could truly sense the cold.

He tried to collect his bearings, but found he didn’t want to move any longer. Nor could he. But he figured he’d wait out the pain, or numb it. Whichever came first.

Albeit, when he sat up, extraneous heat still streamed through his body, radiating outward from his core to his extremities, and he doubted the swelling about his cuts would recede that soon.

Fortunately, he couldn’t catch a fever. He was immune to all illnesses… unless the Pen revoked his immortality. Though, he’d be fine alone. And besides, he had no time to brood.

Rafal stared down at the lacerations lining his forearms. New, youthful skin was already beginning to pave over his cuts, at an imperceptibly slow rate, even if the process hurt like Hell.

To pass the time and staunch the blood, he conjured up strands of gauze bandages that unspooled in midair, allowing them to turn rounds, to twirl and spin before his eyes for an infinitesimal moment before he seized them.

Then, he wound the bandages loosely around his arms, making a poorly-executed, overall hack job of it as his stiff, frozen fingers lacked the dexterity required to tighten them any further.

Well, that would have to suffice for his purposes.

But, no sooner than when he tied the last bandage did he realize the gauze on his other arm had to be replaced since it had leaked through, sopping red once again.

Nevermind.

A copious number of bandages dangled from his outstretched arms as he shuffled back into the main chamber of the tower like one of the undead.

There he sat as the day turned to dusk, stewing silently, tending to the rest of his wounds, awaiting Rhian’s return, applying layer after layer of rapidly reddening gauze.

At last, when he was partly wrapped up, he resembled a dehydrated corpse that would be preserved for the rest of time, forever bound to his duties, like one of the undead, who hadn’t the mind to know when to let go, tugged along by the colorless skein of an immortal life.

He didn’t bother to light a candle.

⸻

As Rhian ambled up the tower staircase, he hummed to himself under his breath and wondered if Rafal had left him any wine. His brother was often a spoilsport and Rhian wouldn’t have been surprised if Rafal had tossed their last bottle.

He took stock of his mental checklist while he continued on his ascent. He’d left Rafal alone for the day, after their tiff last night. Perhaps, Rafal would be ready to apologize. But Rafal was often stubborn, and Rhian suspected he was still sulking.

Brothers. They were such work.

The new furniture he’d ordered from Gillikin would arrive by the School’s shoreside tomorrow, so the place had to be spotless.

Without a doubt, Rafal had finished the spring cleaning by now. And petulantance aside, Rafal never could stand disarray, so surely, he could be trusted with that simple of a task.

Indeed, maybe the Pen really was on his side, and Rhian could check that item off his list now.

He set his foot on the next step, and flinched at a cracking sound.

Rhian peered down at a fragment of glass, cleft in two.

That was odd. Rafal had probably missed a spot when he’d taken out the rubbish, Rhian reasoned, his stomach turning with a twinge of anxiety. Nothing to fret about. Nothing at all.

Rhian knelt down and picked up the shards, stuffing them into one of his jacket pockets. He had to remind Rafal about sweeping up after airing out the place—speaking of which, not one of the windows Rhian had passed had been opened. The air was stale, and it seemed that Rafal had forgotten.

Rhian sighed. He would do it himself later, before his shower. He’d had a long day of curriculum reform as his brother had demanded he add a new section to Surviving Fairy Tales, about distinguishing Good from Evil, because, Rafal had jabbed, even Good’s Master direly needed a refresher when he’d invited the worst kind of Evil into their School.

As he proceeded on his climb, Rhian observed that the stairwell was coated in dust, like it had been beset by a cyclone of some kind.

Now, it wasn’t unlike the Nevers themselves to bathe in dust, but their School Master was definitely above poor sanitary practices, at least regarding himself, if not his renovations. And yet, every surface was saturated with dust, oddly granular dust, that drew blood when Rhian pressed a particle of it between his thumb and forefinger.

Rhian winced at the stinging sensation, knowing his pain would fade soon. Was this glass? He’d told Rafal he didn’t want to compromise their lungs! But Rafal never listened.

Rhian watched as the blood seeped back into his skin, that closed where he’d been pricked. Well… that was a comforting sign. His bond with Rafal was still intact despite last night’s conflict.

He made his way further up the stairs. It was a moonless night and he only had the stars to see by.

Stray storybook pages flapped in the stairwell, and the steps were riddled with more glass dust and drops of blood?

What if they had been besieged by another intruder? Another Vulcan? That would explain the glass. What if Rafal blamed him for allowing an uninvited guest to break in? Had he cast the entry-sealing spell when he’d left their tower that morning? Or had he been preoccupied by, by Storian knows what! He couldn’t remember now.

Heart thrumming, Rhian raced up the remaining stairs in a panic and flattened himself against the wall by the entryway to the tower’s main chamber, to listen.

All he heard was the echo of rustling paper and the cool night wind.

Rhian lit his fingerglow. It burned with warm, pure, golden light, gilding the stones around him. He would vanquish any threat that lay ahead of him. And if Rafal was there, they’d face it together.

Trembling, Rhian swept the presumably monster-clawed, blood-encrusted, silver curtains aside, unsure of what dark horrors he’d be met with in the confines of his own home.

Stepping softly over the threshold, he picked his way into the pitch dark chamber, gold fingerglow illuminating the space, as a scene of total carnage flashed into existence.

Rhian gaped as his eyes flicked across the blood-spattered floor, his light spilling onto it and bouncing back into his eyes. All he saw was pure upheaval. The fire had long since guttered out as it had consumed all of its kindling. An entire bookcase, overturned. Water, pooling out from beneath the bathroom door, circulating along the grooves between the stones. And the tales. They had clearly flown across the room, tossed about erratically, like they’d been subjected to a storm at sea. And—

His gaze landed on a stooped figure with a ragged, irregular breath, shielding its eyes from the sudden flare of harsh light.

Rhian’s breath caught. Was it a Night Crawler? Or some other lethal creature of the night? Some undead thing? He backed up.

Finally, Rhian’s eyes adjusted to the light—was that Rafal?

He squinted down at spikes of snow-white hair, matted with blood, then, eyes widening with recognition, surveyed Rafal’s baffling state of partial undress. Rhian’s distempered brother had propped himself up at the base of the fallen bookcase, and hadn’t risen from where he sat.

Rafal stared up at Rhian in the lit doorway without a word, his eyes hollow and vacant.

“I-I thought you were a monster.”

Rafal’s frown deepened. “Lovely,” he breathed hoarsely. “You’re not the first to think that.” He snuck a brief look at the Pen.

Rhian’s chest flooded with relief. It was only then, after Rafal had spoken, that Rhian’s fears had evaporated. He recognized his brother’s voice and was now certain he was with the living and not one of the undead, some sinister being risen from the grave with the intent of taking over their School.

“Where’s our intruder then? Have you burnt up the corpse?” Rhian wrung his hands, glancing around.

“There is none.”

Rhian paused for a moment, processing his brother’s words. “Then whose blood—” Rhian stopped, unnerved. “Yours? It’s yours?”

Rafal nodded, grim, and began to placidly wrap more bandages around his torso, tightening them with the aid of his sorcery.

With narrowed eyes, Rhian peeked fearfully at his brother’s back and almost passed out in shock. It was all cut up and bleeding, crossed by haphazard strips of overlapping bandages that hung off his arms.

Concerned, Rhian stared at Rafal, haunted by the bloody sight, until he found his voice. “Wh—” He swallowed the bile rising in his throat, trying to quell his nausea. “What happened?”

“The Storian.”

Rhian blinked at his imaginary monster, and gazed warily at the true monster, hard at work, diligently inking in a new tale, once and forever unmasked. It had been the monster all along.

What would they do now? Subdue it somehow? Though, Rafal’s trials were already over…

“Will it heal?” Rhian asked tentatively, wide-eyed.

“What do you think,” Rhian’s monster answered. “I’ll walk it off.”

That was when Rhian registered his brother’s resignation, and knew he should drop the matter altogether. But, he had one final question: “Why did it attack y—”

“Ice. Bring me ice.”

“But—”

“Now,” the Evil School Master cut out caustically. “And not a word about the Pen favoring Good.”

Stunned into dead silence, Rhian scurried away to fetch ice. The most damage always occurred within the shortest window of time.

Yet one fact held true in his mind: Rafal hadn’t learnt his lesson and never would.

⸻

Note:

I’d leap at any feedback you have! Please, if you’re up to it, I’d love to hear your reception of this fic, any thoughts, feelings, reactions, or concrit you have, any at all, especially as this is the most action and the least dialogue I’ve possibly ever written, given the unusual nature of the fic.

If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. I’m almost always willing to elaborate!

In addition, I’m not of a legal drinking age in my country nor do I have any inclination to drink. So, apologies if there are any inaccuracies regarding the alcohol use. You can certainly let me know what the errors are, if there are any.

Did anyone catch any of the references I made?

In writing this fic, I realized it diverged a lot from my previous ones because it relies more on imagery than dialogue, so I personally had to really push the envelope with it. In fact, this was probably the most difficult fic I’ve written thus far because I think crafting dialogue tends to come to me more easily than action sequences do, and well, this fic is almost all action.

(And I wanted the fic to feel cinematic, as if it were panning over a train wreck or a hazard zone the audience wouldn’t be able to peel their eyes away from. Yeah, I know. It probably sounds strange, that the desired effect I had in mind while writing this was “vehicular collision,” haha.)

Trivia: My use of “Pen” versus “Storian” was very intentional here. For some reason, I just intuitively found that it made some kind of weird sense to call it “the Storian” when it had an active role and “the Pen” when it was an object acted upon or mentioned, with a few exceptions. It just felt right.

⸻

I even wrote a rhyme for the fic:

He gets bruised—he was struck.

He gets burned; he gets cut.

All done by a Pen

While he’d been drained of his luck.

And all befell him while salty and drunk.

⸻

Playlist:

“Fall Away” - twenty one pilots

“21 Guns” - Green Day

“Save You” - Turin Brakes

“Enemy” - Imagine Dragons & JID

[my-pjo-stuff]

This is mainly a Luke Castellan blog, but also a TA blog… so I’m just going to share my thoughts about how underutilised Chris is because despite Luke being my favourite I find the character Chris could be is fun to think about.

Chris was only claimed after the war, and I don't know if its ever mentioned beforehand that he knew he was Hermes' son since some unclaimed (mainly of minor gods) do seem to know who their parent is without being claimed. But running off the assumption he didn't? He was inside Hermes' cabin the entire time, you'd think the guy would atleast have the decency to claim his kids so they're treated better in his own cabin, like surely his children being treated as guests would atleast be some sort of insult towards him but I guess I expected too much for a guy like him even if the bar was already in hell. He doesn’t even get to move cabins like he’d maybe imagined after being claimed because he’s always been inside his cabin, he just never realised it. Luke, the guy who most likely recruited him to the TA, has been his brother this entire time and he just didn’t know. I wouldn’t blame him if after the war he left camp as fast as possible, if it just wasn’t about leaving camp but leaving behind that cabin that seems to just remind and taunt him of the fact that his father didn’t want to claim him until he was forced to, of the siblings and life he could’ve had.

Also the entire execution of demigods in the titans army, if he knew about it? (Because I think it seems like the gods are keeping it hush-hush? And the other demigods just think they’ve gone into hiding after losing? Looks like it from what I’ve seen anyway but I’m not caught up on the newest books…) Imagine watching people you fought alongside with, most likely were atleast friends with some of them just be slaughtered and know the only reason you’re not right there dying with them is just because you got lucky and decided to switch sides. Because who’d save Chris if he was standing infront of the Olympians as their enemy? Certainly not the guy who forgot or didn’t care enough to claim him. Do you think he ever sometimes wishes that he hadn’t betrayed the TA? Sure, he wouldn’t have changed who won the war, but would it have been better to die for the cause, knowing he atleast pissed off the gods than to have to watch while they don’t even try to change?

Point being I think Chris is a character who has a lot of potential but nothing is done with him and I also think that after the war he (along with all of Hermes’ children tbh) should’ve been allowed to punch his pathetic excuse of a father in the face. (Luke was Hermes’ favourite, his so called pride and joy, and if Hermes treated his favourite child so badly… what does that say about how he treats the rest?)

Not going to lie, considering he was BARELY there for Luke he props was a complete no-show for his kids. As for Chris, I honestly agree. We have nothing on him and his only function really is just "Clarisse loveintrest". Which, ngl- came outta nowhere if we are all honest. Personally, I would like to know why he switched sides in the first place. I mean you can assume it had something to do with going mad and being cured- but it's still relatively little. Chris was with Luke and the TA from the beginning, you'd expect him to hold some sort of grudge. Alas, Rick doesn't like fleshing him out ig T-T

[kamiko1234]

Alrighty, I just got to the point of Chapter 13 after they talked to Luke and BOY DO I HAVE THOUGHTS. So , can we talk about how straight up unserious Percy is ? Like you NOTICE that this is a kid. Buddy is out on a mission to basically save the world, going around telling Medusa he and his friends are orphans having been left behind by a circus and sightseeing XD Say what you want but that kid is funny af. Love that for him. The whole Medusa thing was CREPPY tho, like- Grover fr just found what basically is his dead uncle's corpse ???????? That's honestly fucked up. (The Uncle Ferdinand jokes were funny as hell tho) I do hold firm onto the believethat the gods are sort of dicks tho. Like, honestly ? I'm surprised there wasn't a half blood revolution yet ! Those poor children are treated HORRIBLY by their parents ! Not to mention that they also gotta deal with all sorts of monsters just because they are the kids of that one specific god. Ngl if I was a demigod I'd be ready to straight up overthrow the gods. Or atleast sue them for all the child neglect they did. Like, damn there seems to be little to no resentment against the gods on the side of the kids besides Percy. How'd that happen ? Does Camp Halfblood just have really good therapists to deal with all that trauma and to keep the kids from going , idk, crazy ? Or do they just flood them with propaganda ???? Idk, just seems a bit weird to me how everyone seems to like the gods when so far most couldn't care less so far OR are doing the bare minimum. The only thing more surprising to me than the fact that no one hates the gods, is how surprisingly well I can get on with the first-person POV ? Like, I JUST realized that. It's just THAT good. Normally I don't rly like first-person , but honestly this is the biggest expection so far ! Percy's POV is just hilarious. Kinda nervous about his dreams tho, idk what to make of them.......... But also, OMFG GROVER WAS THE GUY WHO BROUGHT ANNABETH. Damn does every character have trauma here ? Poor lad. On the topic of Grover tho, that whole backstory with Pan gives me BIG tingels for my traitor theories. When he went on his little rant about humanity and how they ruined nature, he very clearly called Percy human. He sees Percy as part of a group he seemingly dislikes to atleast some degree.

Grover also has a sort of legacy he thinks he needs to fullfill ? With many (if not all) members of his family having been seekers. Like, what if Pan IS actually dead ? Or atleast in the underworld, and that is why no seeker has ever returned ? Maybe Hades manages to get Grover to betray Percy by offering him Pan ? It is Grover's dream while also being very important to his entier species. It looks like a good motivation for me. Otherwise I rly like the backstory for Grover we have so far. The author did a great job in fleshing him out tbh. He really went from a droky comic-relieve sort of guy to something..... honestly depressing. I really wonder what happened to Pan. But I do think he's most likely dead or somewhere in the underworld, with Hades being the big bad it would think. ANNABETH GOT A HINT TOO THO, during the Luke talk he did mention that you'd have to be invisible to get the Master Bolt. And the Athena Cabin already picked the side against Poseidon when the camp started to splitt. The motivation for her would still stay the same ofcourse, her godly parent. Personally I do still favor Annabeth as traitor, but it could simply be that I just had the theory about her for longer. Honestly both have solid bases for it and I'd be interesting either way. I'm about halfway done now, so I doubt a thrid character will be introduced now to be the traitor. If a new character IS introduced tho, they'd props be the prime suspect for me. But also, thank you Luke for being one of the MOST reliable character in the story so far. Anytime you show off smth good happens for me (either entertainment or more hints for my theory). BUT ALSO HIM CALLING ANNABETH HIS LITTLE SISTER ? ALKQOPÜREINA THAT'S SO CUTE LIKE ????? ugh ngl now I sort of hope it ISN'T Annabeth bc her betraying them would BREAK Luke's heart T-T. Just let them be happy, please. That's all I ask. Let my fav big bro be happy. Please.

[m3nt4llyr4v3d]

Gabriel vs Chloe/Lila

I used to frequent the Miraculous subreddit (biggest mistake of my life) to see others opinions on Seasons 4 and 5. One question I would see pop up usually is as follows:

Why do people think Chloe/Lila is worse than Gabriel?

The common answer I’ve seen is that bullying and isolation are issues that the audience can relate to, something that’s more down to earth and closer to a viewer’s potential issues. Gabriel, meanwhile, is a supervillain who makes other ridiculously costumed supervillains when they feel bad, his situation was farther out, less relatable, so hammed up at times (cartoon and all) that people would take it less seriously.

And honestly? I completely understood this answer: many viewers’ overwhelming hatred of Chloe and Lila, from what I’ve seen, stemmed from personal relation to their victims, and their own experiences with bullies. It’s completely understandable why people would feel this way.

But then I thought about it for a second, and while I still understand that reasoning, I don’t understand it in any other context.

I mean, I’ve seen people on there genuinely say that Gabriel had more redeeming qualities than them, which confuses me. Lila I kind of understand, I mean we know literally nothing about this character, and the fandom reason of “she lies for attention because her mother is barely home”, which would give her sympathy, was a little… muddled, when it’s revealed she has 3 moms that she’s somehow lying to about being their daughter (what on earth) and has multiple identities. But Chloe? Season 2-3 was showing that she did have redeeming qualities, that she cared about people (few but regardless), she was even able to suck up her own pride when being a hero! Gabriel… He’s an odd case in which the story goes back and forth on whether he’s an awful irredeemable monster, or flawed but sympathetic dad trying his best, while also flip flopping on when exactly they want you to believe as much. Right now? He’s horrible, but the narrative want you to believe he’s just “trying his best” and thinks that he somehow has the room to ask Marinette to “tell Adrien to remember all the times I was a good father” (Marinette should’ve spat on his statue ngl)

Also, Gabriel is a neglectful, dare I say abusive father! Literally mind controls his son and is trying to control him to have the “destiny” that HE wants, not caring about his son at all. He literally pretends to bond with him at one point in Season 5 just so he could give him an alliance ring and walk off smirking, planning on akumatizing him (never brought up again btw). Like, I get that Hawkmoth is more of a hammy cartoon villain, and a lot of those aspect spill into Gabriel (I mean he had a silly stupid number near the beginning of season 5 that I hate to love). But the Gabriel half is genuinely horrible, and those aspects spill into Hawkmoth. Akumatizing, physically abusing your son, and ruining his relationship to akumatize his girlfriend in Chat Blanc, emotionally manipulating him with his dead mother in both Chat Blanc and Ephemeral, literally any time he causes an akuma on purpose by ruining the life of someone he used to be close with or personally knows (the comedian, Andre, anyone working under him), emotionally manipulating his son AGAIN just so he could plan to akumatize him later, locking him up in a white room and emotionally depriving him of everything, literally everything he does in season 5 actually. I understand that some of his more atrocious actions are supervillain things, and that could be more difficult to relate to real life problems. But come on, “neglectful, abusive, controlling parent” is absolutely a real life issue that people have, and it’s a bit strange I haven’t seen that brought up more often

I’m not saying that Chloe and Lila are saints by any means at all! But I am just saying that’s it’s kind of funny that people will say, with their whole chest, that vindictive bullying is actually worse than terrorism and abusing your child, and the idea that the narrative could agree with this scares me

[goodfully]

what another insane cliffhanger... my goodness, okay finished with the second book!!!! i just need to ramble a bit.

since i just finished it, i have thoughts on nino.. tbh i was quite fond of him initially but then he got increasingly unbearable haha the way he... says to lenu that since childhood he imagined a life where he, lenu, and lila would be together, and then.. uhm wow..! where the hell does he go! hahaha well maybe ill feel differently about him in the next book.

ngl tho, esp during that part with the elena/lila/nino drama, i was so stressed.. it just kept going!!! and kept feeling like so much!!!! wow. i had just kept thinking that theyd all best sit down and be honest with their feelings for each other and then form a poly relationship and run away together or something idk hahaha

okay i think one of my most favorite things about this book is how important every character feels. obviously we have lenu and lila, but like the rest of the cast?? they were not just some random childhood friends mentioned in the first book, they all are growing up too and are experiencing lives of their own. i think this book, more than in the first book, showed a lot of parent/child relationships, mm like how much we fear to become our parents.. to be inevitably trapped in the same fate as theirs. its in my mind a lot, about how much the things that happened to my own parents affect me. ahh elenas relationship with her mother.. despite how badly she wishes to not become like her mother, i think she does see her strength and her care for her... (oh god, like when she was sick and her mom comes out of nowhere?? and i think she was torn between feeling embarrassed by her and how capable her mother really was) oh and things like both antonio and ada becoming in different ways like their mother, stefano resembling don achille, lila fearing her son will be stupid, etc and ofc also just... the weight on all of their shoulders to.. hurry up and grow up? ahh. ///tw death tw suicide/// for the peluso siblings to witness their father be literally dragged out their house in front of them for allegedly murdering another man, hearing about his death in prison, busting the door down and seeing their mother hang herself. for the cappuccio siblings to only have their mother, who needed her children to care of her and her mental state more than she could take care of them. hhhh

that reminds me, the whole book i was hoping for more enzo content hahaha we really barely know anything about him at this point but i adore him. and he is there now! altho i wonder how much more we'll hear of him in the next books.

oh yeah, lila talking crazily about educating all the children to make a change starting with their generation... just like me for real... this is pretty much the main reason i studied early education hahaha its silly now when i think about it, but i used to feel like my skull was breaking from how much i felt i needed to find a way to take care and educate of all the children in the world in order to make some sort of difference... to find a way to get every single child to experience love and care from a loving and caring family... god. anyway i mean i still do believe that taking care of and educating the young ppl of our generation can change the world somehow, but it was just rather.. sad? seeing lila go crazy about her son and her very real fear for her son, that he might become like her and her family, unable to escape violence and poverty.

all this talk about a book centered on elena and not a single word about lenu yet ahhh my bad! oh i want to talk about her years at the university, and... gosh. just knowing you just lack something that your classmates from a rich family and background have that youll never have... even tho she quite literally graduated with top scores, she never felt fully capable? never felt enough? the need to work so hard to suppress herself in order to be okay in that city?? aghfh

alright, the ending! with her realizing that her novel (that she described as something that was truly hers to pietro) was basically born out of and deeply connected to lilas blue fairy book... god!!!!! what the hell!!!!! my goodness. she quite literally describes how theyre soulmates, how theyre connected by an invisible thread, how much they mustnt lose each other anymore. and when they finally met again and she finally realizes that "in the world there is nothing to win, that her life was full of varied and foolish adventures as much as mine, and that time simply slipped away without any meaning, and it was good just to see each other so often to hear the mad sound of the brain of one echo in the mad sound of the brain of the other." sobs. i think throughout most of the book, i so desperately wanted the two of them to just... be okay and stop being in constant war with themselves for each other.. but anyway wow, even tho for this second book the two of them arent with each other most of the time, the way their relationship is so hhhhh described so well and is always relevant, its so real wow its so real.

okay done... mm i was thinking that lenu is probably the more relatable character, but i think i identify a lot more with lila? not really bc of her life or the way acts, but the way she thinks maybe? the way she feels about ppl? idk actually, but its probably affecting the way im reading the series. mm starting tmr i wont have as much time as i do now to read, but im hoping i get through the next two books before the end of next month at least!

[hellsingmongrel]

That sure was a fuckin’ JOURNEY

(Spoilers, AGAIN, for Trigun, Trimax, and Tristamp)  Welp.  I hyperfixated on the entirety of Trigun Maximum that I got through it in like a day combined of reading, and that was WILD.  Actually had a headache from fixating so hard and from all the megasads, but now that I’ve seen the conclusion, I’m feeling a lot clearer in my brain.

What made me kind of cackle at the end was that Meryl and Milly.  Became REPORTERS.  People who complain about Meryl being a reporter in Stampede can just sit down.  It’s canon.  They just moved the timelines a bit.  Also, HOLY SHIT was that the most “The Power of Love and Friendship” solution to the battle I’ve ever seen out of a magical girl anime!  And honestly, it made SO MUCH FUCKING SENSE.  Needle-noggin’s unending, exasperating pacifism actually did save the world!  Who would have thought???  And I sure as Hell did not expect EARTH to still be functioning and sending out rescue ships!

NGL, though, there was a stretch where I legit was worried it wouldn’t have a happy ending AT ALL, and boy did that make me even more worried!  It was SO DARK.  So much death and horror and actual sexual assault (which is the one that I REALLY didn’t expect, and especially not with the character it involved, wow, :U)  Nor did I expect Knives to come out of it on the other end actually going “...Wow, ok, yeah, I was a shit.”  And for a while, there, it felt like a TOTALLY different story than it started off as!

Nightow did a good job of bringing it back around full circle at the end, and in such a way that yeah, Vash was having to be back on his bullshit all over again, but he didn’t have the weight of everything he was running from emotionally weighing him down like he had before, which made it seem so much nicer!  Sure, he’ll have to deal with people getting hurt and killed, but it seems like he’s not going to be putting the blame for literally every little thing that happens on his own shoulders.

I gotta say, when it comes to Stampede, I’ve seen some people saying that the Knives we get in episode 11 is super out of character and he would NEVER do what he did, but man.  I gotta say.  After reading the entirety of the manga, I do not agree with that criticism.  There was a time there when he SUPER tried to shut down any compassion he had for Vash, so I can totally see him trying to use him for his own goals.  I’m still excited to see how they handle the rest of the story they’re telling with the new series and stand by my assertion that Stampede Vash should be wrapped up in blankets and given cocoa and lots and LOTS of therapy and hugs and cuddles and head pats and told everything’s going to be ok.  But he seems like a much younger Vash, who you only saw a few times in Max, but who had the same sort of naivete.  It’s an interesting reimagining for the boy, but it all still feels very much like our favorite donut-addicted doofus.

Also, I have mountains of Vashwood feels that I don’t have the current capacity to handle and will have to stew on for a while, because GOOD LORD that was one hell of a fucking ride in THAT regard, too.  Meanwhile, literally his relationship with Meryl and Milly feels almost like the protective, constantly-worrying parent.  I know Meryl and Vash is a huge ship, and that’s totally valid, I just do not see him feeling that way for her at all.  o_O  The part where she was bawling and he was kneeling down to talk on her level had HUGE “adult talking to an upset child” vibes for me and nope.  It just reinforced the “This man looks like he’s barely old enough to drink, but he’s literally old enough to be everyone’s great, great, great grandparent!”  He still lights up like a giant golden retriever puppydog when they show up, because he adores the fuck out of the insurance girls, holy shit! It just doesn’t seem romantic to me at.

All in all, I gotta say, when I was big into anime and manga, Hellsing was my top favorite and Trigun was my second favorite, solely based on the Trigun anime.  But after the really unsatisfying way Hellsing ended for me, and after seeing the way Trigun Max was done, it absolutely blows Hellsing out of the number one spot for me.  It’s just SO GOOD!  I was seriously doing myself a major disservice, not reading it for so long!  Not that I had much control over supply chain issues for very small rural towns with little access to foreign goods.

There’ve been rumors that Dark Horse is planning a special edition rerelease of the manga (same as they did for Hellsing a few years ago, apparently.  That’s on my bucket list) and I will ABSOLUTELY be buying those if and when they do!  GIB GIB!  LEMME HAVE PHYSICAL COPIES!  I HAVE A MIGHTY NEED!

[fluffypotatey]

Leverage Ep 11 >:3

Pre-game thoughts:

ngl the last episode was a lot of fun! got to see Nate at his breaking point, Sophie being the best (as always), ALEC AND ELIOT DUO!!!!!

also it looks like this one focuses on Parker? (at least, that’s what the blurb says 🤷🏻‍♀️) so praying for more moments for my ot3 🥰 either as duos or altogether, I do not care. just want them to have screen time 

anyway, can’t really think of anything else to add???

I mean, this is the last episode before the 2-parter finale, so I’m curious if this will touch on…..the ✨insurance company✨and that uh Crowley-looking dude (unrelated to GO!Crowley, a show I should also watch)

BUT ENOUGH ABOUT THAT ON WITH THE SHOW ✨ 

Reaction:

ooooooh a flashback 👀

Ok that was not a safe dose

AHHHHHH THE STOVE

NOOOOOOOOO ERNESTO

is he dead?????

oooooooooh team drama 👀

lmaooooo parents (Nate/Sophie) using jury duty as a lesson

“Yeah, I know jury duty, this seems legit” <- has only gone once

OooooOOOoooooOoOooh defendant is wearing colored shades, he must be an asshole 😂

WAIT WHAT

WHO IS FILMING THE CASE???? IS THAT LEGAL????

babe, please step the fuck away from the jury panel. i would not be in favor of you anyways with you standing so close wtf

oop! she knows!!! fuck they’re gonna strike her out 

ok but seriously who are those camera people???? are they even a real legal team???? the ick is strong, I hope they burn this other team to the ground

YES PARKER

CONVINCE THEM

SHUT NATE YOU WERE A SLIMY INSURANCE MAN BEFORE YOU DONT GET TO TALK

everybody giving Nate the stink eye, yesssssssssss 

(You would think, with how much I yell at this man, I hate him, but tis the opposite! Love him. He’s just an asshole, and I would never like him in person, great character <3)

OMFG ALEC BACKSTORY??????

YES PLEASE

NANA YOU BADASS

ELIOT AND PARKER DUOOOOOO

FUCK YES

Lmao he took the beer

literally before clicking play I was like “you know, I don’t think Parker and Eliot have been a duo yet” AND HERE WE GO

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE

nO glasses guy 🫢 was a faker?! <- is not shocked

jfc Alec is good 😍

ok what you doing Parker? oh wait nvm 

Chess???? lmao you nerd

“Hmmmm how do we show an evil character is smart…..I KNOW! Chess!”

ohhhhhh big pharma ok (can’t believe it took me this long)

WAIT WE DOING POISONED APPLE

ugh no we’re not

oh shit bribery????

ELIOT PLAYS CHESS???? you fucking nerd 💕

lmao Parker gets a lesson in social interaction (I’m so sorry, girlie, I’d hate it too, but tbh I also befriended an older lady while at jury duty so same????)

it’s ok Parker you tried your best 🫂

“I have a peanut allergy” <- love you Alec 

Nate, I sure hope you don’t regret that honeypot plan

OHHHHHHHHH oh dear ok now the brownface comments make sense

Ok show’s age has been shown

jfc Sophie wtf please tell me this is the only episode where this happened 

“I’m very spiritual” <- 🤢 god how many times have I heard this

Jesus H Christ I can’t even look at her T^T

awwwww Sophie is helping Parker

ELIOT YOU ARE SO CUTE

HES TRYING

PARKER YOU CUTIE 🥰 

i want Parker and the grandma to be friends. Like best friends

lmaooooooo she’s foreman now (I don’t think I spelled that right)

girlie, you sound like you’re giving the old man a job interview 😂

SHE GONNA BUY OUT THE LAWYER???? 

He won’t

Nate noooooooooo

ALEC

YES

MY BOY

HE LOOKS SO GOOD IN A SUIT

but also shit they are treading the legality there (<- she says even tho they do this every episode)

“Do you trust your government, Ms. Vargas?” ALEC 😂😂😂😂 bringing back the old teachings of being a Jehova Witness i see

WE ARE BARELY HALFWAY?????? (Sorry just looked at the time stamp  what do you mean it’s only been 20 minutes????)

“is that a high school yearbook?” oh my god

Alec, babe, love you, but what

ALEC I LOVE YOU

girlie you could say cauliflower steak

Awwwwwwwwwwww Parker has a friend 🤧🤧🤧🤧

Alec’s headshot is beautiful 

“It all checks out unless [says an example of exactly what Alec did]”

Ooooooh outsource mention 👀 

Nate there are cameras!!!!

“You know why they say, ‘Justice has a blindfold’? Because Justice is asleep” FUCKING DEAD

ok bro this isn’t jury duty anymore this is a trial???? did I miss the part where they finished jury selection 

OH SO HE’S AN ACTOR???

lmaooooo he was Scottish 

Awwwwwwwww Parker 🥺 “she likes rainy days” im fucking sobbing

Ok now that’s why we were only halfway 

“We win the trial” LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOO

Hehe Alec has to actually win the trial

“You think lawyers aren’t just pretending and trying to fill in daddy’s shoes” ok, uh, wow 💔 

SHE GOT A BAG LUNCH 🥺🤧

Eliot on another parents trip!!!

wait who is he fighting???? Oh ok

Nate, you look so fucking dumb 😂

*gasp* THAT MEDICAL MAN IS LYING FIGHT HIM ALEC

oh ho ho! bringing up his qualifications I see 👀 why he now only doing cases in Cali 👀

OH HO 👀

HE BROUGHT UP BIN LADEN 👀

GET HIS ASS ALEC! FUCK HIM UP!!! FUCK! HIM! UP!

Alex’s closing statement 👀 omg 🥺 yes babe 🤧 beautiful 💐 take my flowers 💐💐💐💐💐

jfc I’m nervous!!!! I know this will end happy but still!!!! So nervous 🫠

nooooo, she must not figure out 🫠

Oh dear, 

OH YES THEY TURNED OFF THE TV WONDERFUL

lol yesssss girlie, burn that fucking bridge!!!! BURN THE BRIDGE!!!! DIG THAT HOLE!!!!

unrelated but her jacket is super pretty

ok ok here we go. fuck I’m nervous 

YESSSSS LETS GO BITCH

FUCK YEAH MESS WITH THEIR CAMERA

why are you revealing yourself to her????? bro she could find people to get you!!!!

OMG SHE MADE A FRIEND! GET THAT COFFEE

Final Thoughts:

this episode was so much fun!!!! we may not have gotten much of the Parker/Eliot duo but I’m still happy that they got to tag-team! Parker learning how to socialize, be a team player, and lead was just 👌👌👌👌👌👌 wonderful so proud of her T^T Alec was amazing (obviously) and fucking killed both for stalling the case and winning it <3

not as much Nate/Sophie moments besides them acting like parents to their teammates and being a well-oiled machine 😎 so I’m still satisfied! a little disappointed that there wasn’t any hint for the finale but that might just be because of the messed up order again 😔 

overall: wonderful episode, this might be my favorite of the season (tho Miracle Job still has my heart)

[loadednachosao3]

wait, you have OC's??

can you show your favorites? 👀

for sure!! in no particular order:

ELLIE LOVE

the full nsfw pic + gif can be found here!

this is my newest OC! she's an eldritch being masquerading as a camgirl to convert people to her cult. her parents are also eldritch beings, and she's millions of years old. she's hip with the gen z slang, though, mainly because she is pretending to be from that generation.

right now, she's not from anything in particular. I just got inspired by an r/twosentencehorror story and wanted to make her! but she might end up being a dateable option in the game I'm making (not the lacho one).

[CHARACTER #2 REDACTED FOR REASONS]

DALTON PALMER

okay, ngl... he's my favorite right now. this is my character for Candela Obscura! he's a sleazy party animal and drug runner/criminal by trade. he's a member of the secret organization Candela Obscura, dedicated to finding and securing supernatural threats. he is an ATK leg amputee with a lot of scars, having survived an explosion just barely.

now, he's the one where he has some Secrets my fellow players don't know about... if you're one of them and have somehow found this post, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS IM BEGGIN FELLAS I WILL CRY

his extended backstory under the cut!

the reason Dalton is so captivating to me is his backstory... buckle up! cw: cannibalism, manipulation, death, murder, abusive relationships, drug and alcohol addiction

born in the 1700s to a poor family, he was the eldest of 6 siblings. unfortunately, those siblings kept dying of Born in the 1700s Disease, which his parents also eventually succumbed to.

terrified of death and desperate to eradicate the possibility for himself, Dalton began investigating ways to prolong his life. this led him to discovering the secret organization the Unabridged, which he joined after learning their reason for existing was, like him, to seek immortality.

he quickly started to hang out with and fall for the cult leader's son, Erasmus. the two became close as Dalton spent years researching methods for obtaining immortality.

and he found it. a cursed ritual that would allow the caster to obtain it... by eating a person you care for alive.

at first, Dalton wouldn't entertain the thought. but the cult leader, Erasmus's father, Augustine, began to sink his hooks into Dalton. now, I imagine this to be a twisted sexual relationship, but in the actual tabletop canon it's more just platonic gaslighting.

anyway, through manipulation and mind games, Augustine eventually convinces Dalton to go through with it -- Erasmus was much more soft-hearted than his fellow cult members, and it threatened Augustine, so he wanted him gone.

Dalton, terrified as ever of dying, did the ritual. while looking into Erasmus's betrayed eyes, he sunk his teeth into him and sealed both their fates.

Dalton is now immortal, and has coped with his actions through drugs, alcohol, and indiscriminate sexual encounters. at the start of the game, he's nearly 200 years old, which his fellow party members have no clue about. he ran away from the Unabridged shortly after obtaining immortality -- immortality which left him with no shadow, a subtle indicator of his inhumanity. eventually, he was found out by Candela, and offered a job with them in exchange for their help keeping his true identity secret.

after all that, Dalton is a vegetarian. he's also my sweet babygirl boy. love him at once

[elmaxlys]

Hi! Ive been going through my ts volumes and I’ve been wondering,

considering you are the person who is the most interested in juo, you would be the best person for me to ask. what do you think His childhood was like? (apart from what we know)

Also! If you have any other thoughts on other characters i would love to hear it!

If you want, I could also share some thoughts/headcanons on my favourite guys! (Ein & Aikawa Obvs)

Hopefully this is coherent aha, i have troubles putting sentences together!

Just wanted to ask because im soo intrigued to see more on what others think about certain characters and such!

Ooh hi!! :DD

I do think about Juo's childhood from time to time, although my headcanons about it tend to vary depending on, like, the AU or my mood or anything, really xD that's the one good thing about having barely anything about him :')

can you believe that's all we have on his past? orz

(mangabox screens bc they're the ones i have saved in my computer but it was fun to go compare with the seven seas at the site you told me, thanks again for that :3)

Anyway, to come back to the topic at hand..

I like to think that he's mixed caucasian/japanese

I can't decide whether i read him as an only child or as younger/middle brother like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ the projection can only go so far. In one of my fics, I made him an older brother to step siblings, but I do tend to think of him as either siblingsless or as his problem with authority having some part to do with having older siblings (whether he also has younger siblings to go with that depends on how blatant i want the Rika parallel to be lmao)

He's was a good student, getting good grades. Helps sell the "I never bullied anyone, how dare you judge me on my appearance" act + he's smart AND likes to shove his superiority in people's face, he totally would get good grades and play it off as nothing

I love that school is his villain origin story btw

His parents are either the neglectful kind or the blind trust pink sunglasses kind ("my kid would never do that he's an angel! :o")

In any case he hates his parents

He didn't have friends. He hung out with people like him (delinquents and bullies) but never let anyone get close

He only allowed himself the more feminine aspects of his appearance after he became strong and known enough that no one would ever attempt to give him shit for it

The first tattoo he got was the one on his left arm

He lost his virginity in middle school to an older girl, he did it with a guy in his last year of high-school, lying about his age

He wanted to be independent as soon as possible so he got a part time job while in school and didn't go to university or anything, did an apprenticeship or equivalent - and then he was whooshed to high-rise world

I hope it's somewhat coherent xD my thoughts tend to change a lot, ngl, none of it is fixed but it's what i tend to default to i guess? x)

I can't think of anything to share about other characters but I am really curious about your thoughts on your favs, especially about Ein, since we have absolutely nothing on her past o_o

Anyway I hope you liked these! :3 :D

[m1ckeyb3rry]

I knew I fucking forgot something….um anyways will paste that reply here LMFAO

I think this is my sign to go read that fic and see if I have any ideas but the moment you said killing I was like oh. And there go a majority of the options LMFAOO but lowk….nah I’ll just read it first I mean surely there could be someone besides Kaiser too…maybe if you set it in a slightly alternate universe? I should definitely go read that first though LOL (so true though tabieitaken just too mature ugh)

Ok and then my reply because I forgot to hit send earlier smh

Omg nooo wait stay safe on the plane!! Idk if they still like give peanuts as snacks regularly but

100k words in one month is truly insane omg even in my most productive times I don’t think I’d reach the equivalent of getting that much done HAHAHA

No fr like please I was my hair and I do normal things I wear

And omg I passed by someone else’s brief analysis post and they were like “how bad do their parents have to be that Rin can’t even remember their eyes” WHAT I hadn’t thought of if being like a compelte flashback through Rin’s eyes but that’s certainly a really interesting take!! And definitely seen a lot floating around of how Sae is so mature and also how neglected they had to be for Sae to be like that at like 7 years old….

Also I forgot that’s how it worked irl tbh I don’t actually watch sports all that much LMAO Ooh that would be interesting but if we get stuck in BM with basically only Isagi on screen I think I’d lose it HAHA

FR MANIFESTING SO HARD

-Karasu anon

HAHHAA NO LITERALLY like i’m sorry i cannot imagine nagi or karasu being down for murder 😭 again the killing aspect makes more sense in the context of the story (it’s not fully set in modern times + jujutsu society in general is crazy) but even then it would be SUCH a huge stretch to make for their characters 😔 atm i can only think of kaiser and maybe barou??? but barou is a bit too serious for the role too…ig that’s easier to workaround but still 😓 and omg if you read it don’t be too surprised it’s a bit of a crazy story truly anything was getting written as i figured out what i wanted out of the story!! plus a lot of plot points seem random without future context…it was very much meant to be a story that has a completely diff tone/meaning upon rereading it!! but then i never finished it so no one gets the experience of knowing the ending and reading the beginning (except me)

luckily planes are pretty stringent abt avoiding allergens nowadays! all peanut stuff is pretty wrapped up/contained to lessen the chance of cross contamination 😩🙏🏻 when i was a kid i was allergic to eggs as well…now THAT was a headache LMAOAO but thankfully i grew out of it

i’m a pretty fast writer when i have motivation (my most popular story for aot i finished the main story in a month and that was 173k words soooo) HAHA i respect people who update slowly and consistently but with me it’s literally as soon as i’ve written and proofread the chapter it’s getting posted so i have no set schedule (also why i literally have no clue when i’m going to update because like if i knew i’d just finish the chapter and post atp 😭)

yes that was the vibe i was getting where his parents are just completely irrelevant to him compared to sae…the itoshis are like weirder and more confusing the more we learn abt them ngl 😓 but honestly them being neglectful makes sense considering sae and rin’s egoist bible entries…like wdym sae never saw his report card because he was so busy with soccer?? what parents gives ZERO fucks abt their kid’s grades to that extent?? even if he’s a soccer prodigy like what if he gets injured he’ll have no backup plan if he’s barely literate 😭

honestly i don’t really watch sports much either!! i’ve never been into them literally all of my knowledge is off of tik tok 😰 i’ve been getting irl soccer edits because of my many saved bllk ones…idk how to tell my fyp that the soccer part is largely irrelevant to me HAHAAH but yeah to my knowledge that’s how it works!! agreed though if anything i hope that they mix up which characters get offers from which clubs so we have a bit of a diff cast if that’s the direction they go in 😩

[toothlesshat]

You are so right and correct abt Miss Secondopinionson /gen

SHE IS SERIOUSLY ONE OF THE WORST CASES OF WASTED POTENTIAL FOR ME I can only hope there’s an alternate universe out there where this show didn’t get cancelled and she could’ve gotten more focus. Like, she barely appears in the show at all but she made a bigger impression on me than half the reoccurring characters. I’m gonna talk about why I love her so much under the cut since I was gonna make a bigger post later, but this seems like as good a time as any, I hope you don’t mind :)

I think that I already enjoyed her in the few times we saw her, but she had a lot of odd behaviors that didn’t make sense to me until I found out some outside context about Nurse Bendy. Specifically, I thought it was strange that she let Joe beat up their dad without even checking on him, and why she was adamant about not being Joe’s mom despite acting like it. By all means, Miss Secondopinionson was the realest parent Joe had ever had at that point, and is clearly the sole guardian of him since their dad is too old to even get out of his chair to take care of him. She can easily claim to be his mother, and would have every right to! But then I found out that Nurse Bendy is 24 years old… and Joe is only 12.

Then holy shit, everything made sense to me, and solidified Miss Secondopinionson as one of the best women in the whole show (not a hard title to gain but still an impressive feat ngl). Clearly, Joe was forcefully taken from Bendy since she was a child and obviously unfit to raise another fucking kid, but the decision to cut her off from Joe entirely and cover up what had happened wasn’t up to Miss Secondopinionson, it was all up to their father. Logically, she knew her father wouldn’t be punished for what he had done living in a town like Moralton, and Bendy was beginning her long life of never being taken seriously, so there was no chance of getting justice where it was deserved. All Miss Secondopinionson could do is step in and raise Joe the best she could.

And she really did her best, not only to Joe but to Bendy! She’s adamant about not being his mom because she knows Bendy is still out there and an adult now, she knows that it’s unfair to steal a title Bendy didn’t even get to truly have. She keeps Bendy updated on his life when she asks because there might be a day she wants to know her son, and because she deserves to know as his real mother. She never tries to be his mom because she doesn’t want to take another thing from Bendy, who continuously loses everything, or from Joe.

I imagine that when Joe came home and attacked their dad, she stood by and let it happen because he deserved it. She’s mature enough to know that he’s too old to even remember the past, so she never tries to confront him or challenge him on things he had done, but Joe? Joe thinks he was lying to him for years, what else would a kid like him do? When he attacks his dad, she doesn’t even look back, but she can hear everything. To me, it’s another show of the gray morality in everyone in this show. She probably thinks her father deserves to be beaten for everything. For what he did to Bendy, for what he did to Joe, for what he did to her (essentially giving her a child when she didn’t even want one)- she doesn’t stop Joe because it’s nothing more than karma.

And when Joe asks why she never told him, kind of implying she was also keeping it a secret, she tells him it’s because she’s not his mom. She knew that if Bendy was going to re-enter Joe’s life, it would be personal between the two of them, and she didn’t want to push Bendy before she was ready, or Joe for that matter. Miss Secondopinionson did her job as an amazing sister, even if Joe didn’t always reflect it.

Actually, Joe still being a flawed child despite her care brings a lot to her character, I think. It tells me that she’s a good sister, but she wasn’t cut out to be a mother, and maybe she didn’t want to be. She was clearly forced into the role by her father, and tries her hardest but doesn’t know what she’s doing all the time. I mean, she was making him that giant ice cream meal when we last saw her to please him instead of something healthier like a more suited parent might. Like!! I hope you see what I mean with all the wasted potential here of her having to be a parent out of nowhere, the resentment she has to have towards her father, and on top it all being trans in one of the most violently bigoted towns ever. When I tell you I’m devastated we didn’t get to see more of her, I mean it.

[all-the-people-are-fake]

Young Royals s2 spoilers warning !!!

So thoughts on Season 2 after my first watch:

Honestly, I don’t really know how I feel about Season 2, I loved it but also maybe I’m kinda disappointed? It had a completely different feel to it compared to Season 1 and I enjoyed it but it wasn’t what I initially expected

-I didn’t like that there was way too much screen time for August and Sara. Them being together was obviously essential to the plot, but I felt it was unnecessary to have that many ‘cute’ scenes between them. Maybe the point of it was to make the audience like or ship them or whatever but honestly, I was just annoyed every time they were on screen. Also HATED the August next in line arc but it is what it is (it just doesn't make sense, he's literally not even a first cousin)

-I liked Markus and Simon at first ngl and they were cute at karaoke, but I definitely feel like it was dragged on too long and it could have been wrapped up earlier in the season. Like it was good for Simon to have the chance to try something new and not be held back by Wille, but when Simon told him he wasn’t ready it should have ended then instead of having Markus be some manipulative weirdo and after that have Simon cheat on him

-There was basically no Wilmon. Like at all. Most scenes they were on bad terms and barely even talked the whole season. I really would have liked some fun/nice scenes between them, even just getting along or laughing together or something (instead of the 10000 we had for August/Sara ew) because it just feels rushed that they suddenly are back on after having like no communication for months

-I’m really disappointed in the direction they took Felice’s character. What happened to her storyline from Season 1? They referenced her hair and her quitting horse riding in the first 10 minutes and then she was basically reduced to a supporting character. I wish they had went more into her relationship with her parents, especially her mum which had been prefaced in season 1, and shown more of her moving away from her parent’s expectations and becoming her own person. I was also kind of disappointed in the Wille/Felice friendship, I mean it was good but it could have been better. I wish they had gone more into their similar upbringings and how perhaps the pressure they both had from their parents was something they could both relate to instead of Wille just whining to her about Simon. And don’t even get me started on the kiss lmao

-The whole Micke storyline was completely wiped. It would have been interesting to see how it would have played out between Micke and Simon after Lucia, if Simon would have confronted him for showing up, or if Micke would had reached out after the video. It’s just like he completely disappeared, despite his name on the bottles, even though he was a main component of Simon’s storyline in the first season and it could have been utilized for the audience to learn more about Simon’s background and family instead of him being essentially reduced to a love interest, like the love triangle was basically his primary arc this season

-I know Edvin said Wille was gonna be dark this season but I felt like he kind of wasn’t really, well not how I expected anyways. Like yeah he was angry at the start, and had some good revenge era moments with August and the Queen in the beginning but I feel like he was pretty tame after that, apart from the gun scene, but it definitely wasn’t the villain era I expected. I would have loved to see him more rebellious, it kind of felt like he just started doing what he was told to do after the first few eps

-I wish there had been a bigger Simon and Sara confrontation. I’m sure we’ll get it next season (if there is one) but I feel like Simon should have found out earlier and held Sara accountable but maybe I’m just impatient lol

This is just first impressions though!! I still did really like it (I’m just a hater first lmao) it was just different from what I expected in some ways and I feel like there were some missed opportunities. But honestly writing this I kind of get it, like I guess the focus of the season was on how teenagers act and react to heartbreak and love and jealousy, so things are gonna be messy. Some parts were done really well, I’ll do a post on those after my rewatch and my overall thoughts will probably change after I’ve fully taken it in idk. I wanna see where they take Season 3 if there is one (fingers crossed!!!), hopefully they draw on more stuff from Season 1 but yeah <3