#and was tedious to read

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Sally is the real neighborhood Rizzler... you all know i'm right...

[puppyeared]

Book cover sketches

[sinnbaddie]

Kakagai fanart based on this excerpt under the cut:

Kakashi: I hurt you.

Gai: Kakashi…

Kakashi: (being embraced by Gai, blushing and thinking *help*)

Gai: no matter what happens next, this conversation has made me the happiest man alive. I am honored that you chose to share your affections with me. To know I am worthy of your love… even if you decide that we must remain friends rather than passionate companions, tonight means more than I can ever express.

Kakashi: I don’t like curry.

Gai: nobody’s perfect.

Based off this fanfic:

[great-and-small]

It’s pretty funny that Carl Linnaeus offered up the scientific name “Monoculus polyphemus” (meaning one-eyed cyclops) for a horseshoe crab species because he thought they had one eye, only for them to actually end up having like ten. I mean even just looking at them it’s pretty obvious they have at least two. I feel like that one was kind of an embarrassing swing and a miss for Carl.

[midnightmah07]

Finished Damali's room yippeeeeee

The cleaned up rooms for the dorms can be found here btw!

[thatswhatsushesaid]

I am routinely baffled by any criticism of jgy fans' interpretation and defence of his character that can be boiled down to "but genre conventions!!!!" as if defying genre conventions isn't how newer, cooler, more interesting stories end up being told.

[bonetrousled]

legiterally i wish i liked undertale yellow bc people seem to have such a good time and enjoyed it SO much and make so much fanwork and get to frolic in the fields but i'm being so real when i say that it was unbearable to me to the point of white hot rage. i am so so sorry

[mermaidsirennikita]

Y'all are TRULY sleeping on Hyacinth by S.M. LaViolette. Like, I really enjoyed Phoebe (first book in the series), but Hyacinth is on another level. It features:

--a scarred libertine duke

--a neurodivergent heroine (23 to his 36) who happens to be KILLER at playing cards (in part because she's counting them) and sneaks out at night to play them while dressed as a very awkward young man

--a very casual interest in kink from her that makes him (a kinky man) go "O_O"

--a shockingly fabulous scene in which he tries to get her to admit she's a girl by taking her to a brothel, making her watch two people fuck while sitting beside him, and rattling off like 75 slang phrases for "jerking it" before being like "there's nothing WRONG with it bOY MEN MASTURBATE IN FRONT OF EACH OTHER ALLLL THE TIME" and starting to pull his dick out

--her: "AHHHH NO--YES? NO!"

--RIDING CROPS!

--so MUCH begging from this man, SO. MUCH. BEGGING.

--they're switches, your honor

--squirmy carriage BJs

[whumble-beeee]

Show Me What You're Made Of

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 2

CW: escape attempt, disabled whumpee, trans whumpee, flashbacks (ptsd), past captivity references, needles mention, tied up, gunshot, general violence

* * * * * * * * [There are some scenarios in which you will want to invite a staged escape attempt just to foil it. Usually, this is done as a way to give hope to your captured hero only to viciously rip it away, but it can also be useful in making them reveal any powers they may have previously kept hidden.

It must be noted that inviting a non-staged escape attempt is very risky and generally a terrible idea, as there is always a chance the hero will be able to overpower you. Don’t get cocky, and always have a fail-safe. If done correctly, a failed escape attempt can be devastating to both a hero’s emotional and physical well-being and aid in long-term hero-keeping.]

* * * * * * * *

Stan was not a fast runner in any capacity. Especially without the use of his cane or any magical intervention to help his knee move along.

He could run without a mobility aid, sure, but that didn’t mean that a sharp pang of protest from his damaged knee didn’t light up his entire leg with every heavy step, and it certainly didn’t mean that he had the balance required to keep running smoothly like your average able-bodied person.

That realization blasted him like a truck as soon as he stood up and took his first steps to bolt toward the door, but at that point, it was way too late to turn back. 

He pitched himself toward the wall and slammed into it with a methodically placed shoulder, using the cold cinderblocks to keep balance. With that support, and if he ignored the steadily increasing pain-filled protest from his leg, he could practically run normally! 

Then a yell. He could hear footsteps pounding up behind him, gaining on him.

For a brief moment, he could already feel the iron grip around his wrist or his shirt, or the arm snaking around his stomach, the heave backward just as his fingers brushed the door handle, the slam to the ground, how he’d be bound up and forced back to that stupid chair and probably be tortured or whatever else the mercenary saw fit to do to him. 

Fuck that.

If he couldn’t outrun him, he’d just have to fight him off.

Stan whirled around and sent out the sturdiest force he could muster to grab onto the bounty hunter's ankle. Just enough so that it caught in the air and missed the floor entirely, and the hunter pitched forward with a surprised shout and fell face-first into the concrete floor, the residual blue glow of the magic still half enveloping his leg. Stan could feel the energy seeping out of him like a punch to the gut, but he didn’t stop to see the rest of the damage before turning around and booking it again.

He slammed the mercifully unlocked door open wide and frantically ran outside, hesitating for just a moment because he didn’t expect to run face-first into what looked to be a warehouse wall, complete with a wide hallway he couldn’t see the end of, high ceilings, blank walls, and cold clinical lighting like a goddamn horror movie.

And no exit door in sight.

He raced to the nearest hallway turn, ignoring his pounding head and screaming weak knee and imminent exhaustion and burning lungs and the ever-threatening presence of the bounty hunter and just focused on the one and only task of ‘RUN!’ He couldn’t afford any other thoughts.

He finally barreled past the blind corner, and there was a door! Stan allowed himself a small relieved laugh at the sight of it.

A flash of the mercenary streaked in his periphery. Stan only squeaked slightly. He needed to get away, to slow him down again, he was so close, so close. So he twisted around to throw some sort of magic bullshit at him again when–

And his knee torqued.

He stumbled.

Lost his balance.

He shoved into the wall again so he didn’t fall flat on his face, and tried to push up again and run, or attack, or do something. And in that moment, despite everything, he saw a flash of red on the back of his hand that he hadn’t noticed before that drew all his attention; A tiny little smiley face, no doubt carved in the first time the bounty hunter messed with him when he was tied to the chair.

Then the bounty hunter tackled him to the ground.

Stan fought to get back up, but all he managed was a terrified shuffling of limbs and a feeble attempt at drawing up enough energy to fight the mercenary off as he quickly pinned Stan down with a straddling of the hips and threw a devastating punch across Stan's jaw that made him have to blink exploding stars away.

He held up his arms to protect his face, instinctively trying to curl up and away from the source of the pain. Noise surrounded him, that frizzy buzzing sensation filling his head with cotton and making it hard to think. His entire body felt like it was seizing up.

He wasn’t done yet. This wasn’t done yet.

“GET OFF!!”

Stan used every last bit of power he had to push the man off of him. The walls around them glowed an electric blue, and the bounty hunter lifted violently up into the air with a surprised yelp. But not before he grabbed the front of Stan’s shirt and dragged the hero right along with him with an equally terrified shriek. 

Then Stan slammed face-first into the ground, barely managing to get his arms under himself in time to soften the landing. One which was not made any softer by the person landing on top of him.

“Holy shit... you don’t know when to quit, do you?” the voice above him cut through heavy breaths, a suddenly prominent southern twang vibrating through a growl of his voice.

Stan felt a punch in the right of his ribcage.

His muscles seemed to stop working entirely for a moment. Then a strange blooming agony started working its way outward throughout his torso.

His eyes unfocused. He curled in on himself as much as he could. It wasn't much at all. He couldn’t move. He felt an increasing pressure emanating from the area, the unbearable stinging pain spread throughout his torso and he squeaked trying to hold in a full-blown scream, breathless yet barely able to suck in a single gasp into his shuddering body. 

He barely even noticed when a hand tangled through the hair at the back of his head until it yanked him up and arched his back, causing what felt like knives stabbing through his ribs. He gritted his teeth. If nothing else, he wasn't going to give the bounty hunter the satisfaction of hearing him scream. 

The hand slammed his face down into the ground. The sides of his vision starting to go dark. Then slowly receded back again. A ringing sound reverberated throughout his entire body, and he all but went limp pressing his forehead into the floor.

“Y’know, runt,” the voice of the bounty hunter penetrated Stan’s clouded mind with hard breath. He could feel the man messing around with his belt pouches as he pressed his knee sharply into Stan’s lower back. “I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to use this. I think it's demeaning and kinda inhumane, but you just had to fuck around and find out, didn’t you?”

Stan shook his head and squirmed fruitlessly, terrified of whatever this guy could possibly think was demeaning and inhumane. 

He didn’t have to wait long to find out, because suddenly a strip of smooth leather ran under his neck and pulled tight under his Adam’s apple. 

Stan froze mid-struggle. Clenched his hands, and his teeth, arched his back and pressed his face into the floor even more. He could only see bright white. 

He already knew what the collar felt like.

And suddenly he wasn't in the dingy warehouse corridor anymore.

"No, no, no no no NO NO PLEASE STOP PLEASE!!"

The red eyes flicked down to his sister, pressing her face into his side and squeezing into him as tight as she could.

Then back up to him, holding his hand out threateningly, blue glow dancing across his fingertips.

“How old is she?”

He snarled, arms protectively pulling her into him. “Stay AWAY from us!”

The eyes softened slightly.

So why was a gun still pointing at his head?

–

He threw his hands violently out at the person in all-black combat gear and a slight electric blue glow enveloped their side. Their narrowed their eyes and hissed in annoyance.

“Collar the older one, and for gods sake, find the younger one and dispose of it or something.” The person in all-black combat gear nodded at him. “She’s the only one we need alive.” 

–

He tried to fight back. He didn’t have the cane back then. Didn’t need one.

His powers were so new, and they were so many, and he was just a kid.

He never stood a chance.

The gun. The eyes behind it. Red sparkles, red and scary.

He faced them down. 

They were supposed to be gone forever.

Then the rough woven fabric of a collar too tight around his neck.

The large hands squeezing his upper arms painfully, forcing him forward.

Restraining him.

Fighting.

Held down.

Experiments. 

Needles.

NEEDLES.

Where was his family?

He clutched at the collar as it wrapped around his neck. He could feel his powers leeching away as he fought to keep his freedom.

CLICK.

The sound reverberated through his skull.

And now the cycle had begun anew.

An arm wrapped around his chest and strong-armed him to his feet. Stan would have screamed if he remembered how to. Instead, a strangled gasp choked out of his vocal cords as a heavy hand clasped onto his shoulder and propelled him forward. 

He immediately stumbled and fell to one knee, agonizing pain bolting up and down his bad leg and almost face-planting in the process, because when were his hands cuffed behind his back again? 

He felt the collar sitting on his throat and he tried to bring his hands up to rip the damn thing off, but he couldn't.

He couldn't, he couldn't, he tried but he couldn't.

A voice lilted somewhere all around Stan, and he could feel the hands grabbing at him. He shrieked and fell forward, scrambling all of six inches before he was backed up and shivering against the wall staring up at the heaving bounty hunter.

He did not look amused.

“You are so pitiful, you know that?”

Stan brought his knees up and pressed his face into his legs, as if that small protection could put the world between them.

“Chiquito, if you don’t get your ass up and walk with me back to that room, I will pick you up and throw you over my shoulder like a sack of goddamn potatoes and spike you into the fucking floor when we get there, do you want that?”

Stan stared glassily into the floor. “... you– you– y-you were– you were there-ere.”

“I was–... What?”

Stan’s gaze snapped to his eyes. Those dark eyes. He couldn’t see it now, but he was sure there was a red glint in the right light.

“You!” He shouted, as if that would clear up his babbling. “You were– it was you!”

The mercenary stared at him. Then clenched his fists, looked up, took a hissing deep breath, and released his fists again.

“You can have a mental breakdown when we get back, runt. Are you gonna walk there or am I dragging you there?”

He didn’t remember. 

Of course he didn’t remember, it must have been ten years ago. Stan was just a kid, and everyone thought he was a girl back then. He himself thought he was a girl back then.

Things were different now. Things were going better.

“I– I– We–... Walk.”

“Great.”

He reached down and dragged Stan up by the upper arm, completely ignoring the way he violently flinched and tugged back. 

Stan did his best to keep up, but in addition to hunching over the searing pain in his chest and trying to ignore the prickling bruise that must have been forming on his cheek, his leg was oozing spikes of lava up and down his entire hip and leg. Stan stumbled and almost pitched forward if it hadn't been for the bounty hunter's iron grip. 

The bounty hunter groaned incredulously. “Oh my god!” 

“Wait, wait, I– Don't–!”

That was all he managed to get out before he was swept off his feet and thrown over the man's shoulder, hitting the soft part of his stomach right on the bone, knocking the wind from his lungs and setting his side on fire all over again. And now he was upside down. His brain felt like it was made out of slime.

He barely managed to gather his bearings enough to start kicking and yelling when he was unceremoniously dumped against the wall, where his head cracked against the cold cinderblock and he bounced to the ground with a strangled gasp.

The world went bright white as the searing pain shot through his entire being, snaking around his brain and squeezing it in a chokehold so that there was no more thought, nothing else but the primal urge to curl up into a little ball to protect himself and the silent open-mouthed screams of a trapped animal clawing desperately for its life, seizing and twitching and paralyzed all because of a too hard smack to the head short circuiting any chance it had at survival.

Stan could barely feel anything over the deafening ringing in his ears, the buzzing feeling in his body as if he were entirely made of bees, the dizziness tilting the world around him on its axis like some bad carnival fair ride.

What was that all about?

Then he finally spotted the mercenary again, coming at him once more with chain in hand, and he may as well have been dunked in ice water with how fast that image sobered him up.

He clumsily kicked out with all his might, pressing his back into the wall as much as possible to get away while simultaneously realizing that with the wall behind him, probably concussed, dizzy, tied up, and in agonizing pain, there was no way he was going to win this fight.

He kicked anyway.

Even as the hunter seemed to grab the ankle of his good leg easily, he still tried to slam his foot into the hand of the bounty hunter to just get him off. He even managed to get a solid kick in, causing the hunter to jolt back with a pained cry and let go. 

Stan felt some sort of twisted sense of pride that he managed to get a hit in even in his sorry state.

Which was quickly crushed when two hands grabbed either of his ankles and lifted them up high into the air, so high that Stan was only touching the ground with the upper part of his back. He couldn’t even use his arms for extra support with the way they were firmly stuck near the small of his back.

There was panting above him. “Alright, you gonna–”

“Let me GO!” Stan yelled, trying once more to kick out of the hold, pressing painfully down into the ground with the back of his head and writhing around erratically in one last herculean act of defiance. He kicked even as his bad knee screamed for him to stop, to rest, even as the fists around his ankles just tightened and became more rigid in response, even as the mercenary grunted out a string of curses trying to wrangle him in.

He wasn’t just gonna give in.

“¡Basta ya! Fucking stop, you lost!”

“Fuck you, make me!”

A sharp kick struck him square in the middle of his spine, and he nearly cracked his teeth with the clench of the jaw he made trying to hold back the scream. He almost involuntarily had to take a moment to catch his breath, then before he could start his protestations again, the cold metal claw of a manacle clamped around his ankle and locked in place with a final click click click that made Stan’s hairs stand on end.

But he was still upside down. The mercenary didn’t let go.

In fact, he held Stan up by only one leg now, and seemed to be fiddling with something that Stan couldn’t see because of his own overturned and battered body getting in the way. He could hear each heavy breath the mercenary seethed out, each one filling him with more dread.

He felt like he’d been hit by a truck. The adrenaline of the situation finally started to ebb away as it started to sink in that he was well and truly trapped, leaving room for the much more paralyzing fear that Stan had been battling since the moment he woke up here. 

Not to mention the blood rush from being upside down for so long was stinging at his face and making his brain hurt. And dizzy. And everything felt like it was shrouded in clouds. Or maybe that was the concussion.

“Jesus Christ,” the mercenary finally breathed. “One hell of a fucking kicker…”

Stan wrenched his head up to snarl at the man and tried to kick his hand off his ankle.

He snatched it out of the air mid-kick, haphazardly pressing a small bundle of twine into his skin as he knocked Stan’s ankles together and held them there as he began to wind the thread around them.

“Yeah, no more kicking.”

Stan still tried to wriggle out with increasingly weaker and weaker cries of anger, even as his ankles were anchored together, even as the blood rushed to his head and made him more and more dizzy, feeling the pressure in his face rising, and his breaths becoming shallower and slower.

Even as all of his efforts did absolutely nothing, and he was left panting and shaking with effort to not go completely limp as his legs were still held up high above him.

Stan didn’t even have the energy left to fight anymore. Tears stung at his eyes as he finally let his head lay on the ground.

“All tuckered out?” the mercenary's voice came from above him. “This seems to work pretty well on you. Maybe I just just let you hang like this for a bit. I’ve got this like, chain thing in the middle of the room hanging from the ceiling, I could probably just like, clip this in–”

“No, no, no, no no no…”

“You’re sure?” The southern drawl was ever-present. “Just wanna make sure you learned to never fucking do that again… y'know, I could hogtie you, you’re already most of the way there.”

Stan felt something break just then. He heaved in a desperate, hitching breath. “Just… please just put me down. Please.” 

His voice was barely even a whisper. Every breath put more strain on his lungs.

A moment passed.

Then the hold on his ankles released, and his body came crashing to the ground. His feet hit extra hard, and his bad knee felt like it was being attacked by angry stinging bees. 

But he didn’t care.

He just rolled onto his side so he wasn’t lying on his bound wrists and lay there.

He heard the boots of the bounty hunter approaching him, and he used whatever energy he had left to open his eyes and stare up at him, pleading with him to not actually hogtie him, whatever that meant. He didn’t think he could handle more.

But the bounty hunter just stared back down at him, briefly meeting his eyes before giving his body a once over, then a small nod. He nudged Stan lightly with the toe of his boot, and Stan’s wandering eyes opened and focused back on the man before he even realized they had closed.

“Not gonna pass out on me, are ya?” the mercenary asked, as if they had just had a light sparring match instead of an irrefutable beatdown.

It almost seemed like he cared. Maybe he did.

Stan swallowed. “I’m– not.”

“Good. Don’t.”

The mercenary whipped around and started to walk away, giving Stan a faceful of the revolver strapped to his hip, still completely clipped in and unused.

He never stood a chance, did he?

Despite everything, a feeling of something akin to a mix of rage and sorrow bubbled up within his stomach.

“He-hey! Wait!”

The bounty hunter turned to face him again quizzically, and somehow that made Stan’s annoyance just grow.

“You didn’t even–” Why was he mad about this? “You didn’t use the gun! Coward!”

The mercenary’s gaze shot to his hip. Then back up to Stan. His nose twitched. Face blank, calculating.

Then in one smooth motion, the gun was out of the holster and pointing directly at Stan, and a deafening blast rang out throughout the entire room.

Stan felt a burning sting whiz by his ear, high-pitched and cutting through air microseconds before the blast shook him to his core. He screamed and ducked into himself, violently shoving back into the wall and cowering into a small ball.

Even as the ringing died down and Stan realized he wasn’t a splatter on the wall behind him, the stinging on the shell of his ear didn’t die down. It got more intense. He felt a single drop of something tickling down the side of his ear before dripping down onto his shoulder. Then another.

His attention ripped up to the mercenary, only to scramble further into the wall when he found the gun still pointed at him. 

Another drip.

The mercenary flipped the revolver once and shoved it firmly back into its holster.

“I’ll use the gun next time.”

* * * * * * * *

Next

taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy

[hella1975]

you ever have a fic get you in such a chokehold you start pacing your room and talking to yourself

[fancifulplaguerat]

My Nina/Polyhedron thoughts have afflicted me with considering how Aglaya’s hellbent mission to destroy the Polyhedron informs her hatred of Nina and vice versa. I want to structure this around this dialogue between Clara and Daniil:

“Aglaya sees the Polyhedron as Nina Kaina's infernal gift. She thinks that Nina rose high, but her pride drew down the wrath of heavens. Aglaya believes that her duty is to destroy this challenge before it has lead to more evil. Or maybe she doesn't even believe that […] She desperately, hopelessly abhors her sister. Even stronger than her worst enemy. When I got to uncover this secret and looked into her soul, my hair stood on end! Aglaya believes her sister to be the devil himself, a deathbringer.” 

I feel it is a little pointless to establish how much Aglaya hates Nina because lol. lmao. Aglaya put her whole heart and soul and pussy too into hating Nina’s guts it is not difficult to parse. But I do want to point to two dialogues which reference this. An Herb Bride claims that “[Nina and Aglaya] hate one another. Or rather the inquisitor hates the Mistress. I think Nina probably disregarded her,” but Victor states that “[there was a] mutual grudge between the sisters that persisted despite the difference in age. It’s a terrible, hopeless feud that even the elder sister’s death has done nothing assuage.” I am inclined to follow Victor’s claim, given that he was undoubtedly closer to them.

As for *why* Aglaya and Nina were perpetually at odds, I think it is foremost because Aglaya considered Nina cruel for her disregard of human life. While Aglaya is rather sharp-tongued and harsh, she is highly motivated by a desire to help and protect others. Indeed she spells it out in some instances, saying, “I am a humanitarian. My duty is to save people, not kill them,” and “I only wish to do good; not specific, targeted good, like that Clara, but overarching good.” She likewise tells Clara, “Human lives are valuable to me. To this day, I’ve been paying for my kind-heartedness.” Which. I am routinely obsessed with that last sentence. In my opinion, it implies Aglaya is prone to sympathy or kindness, that she perhaps even resents this feature of herself. That in turn suggests to me that this kind-heartedness is a prominent feature of her personality, if it is something that (by her admission) routinely bites her in the ass. And I can see sympathy being an issue for her, being an Inquisitor. Despite her ruthlessness, Aglaya cares for others; thus her resentment for Nina seems rooted in her conviction that Nina is an opposing force for absolute evil and harm, just as Aglaya conceives of miracle and the Polyhedron.

Aglaya characterizes herself as a servant of the law, one who “restore[s] the mechanics of the Universe.” She defines the Law as balance and harmony—anything which ruptures that homeostasis has violated the Law, and this is what Aglaya deems “evil.” Aglaya repeats this viewpoint to all three healers, but I think a prominent example is when she tells Clara that “Miracles violate the world; they're abusive in nature. When the world was conceived, it was conceived as a coherent whole, without contradictions. Harmony is the main, indeed the only component of any Universe. However ugly a world may be, however unfair it may seem—it is nonetheless harmonious!” She likewise states that “When mysterious evil emerges from nonexistence, it’s a clear sign that [the Law] has been violated. Disease is a retribution for trespassers. It’s an attempt to restore the balance.” She further says: “In accordance with the Law, the very logic of our world inevitably dictates the destruction of anything unnatural: anything that tries to break its own, non-capitalized laws. The disease is nothing more than a tool. It is an instrument of inevitability.” This logic informs her motivations in-game, with several dialogues across routes telling the player that Aglaya seeks to destroy the Polyhedron rather than end the epidemic. This aligns with Aglaya’s conception of the universe, the Law, and justice; after all, Aglaya views the Sand Pest as an instrument of the Law, retribution for the Kains’ miracle—as she says, “The Law stipulates a harsh punishment for an attempt to capture a miracle.” Thus to Aglaya, it is the Polyhedron which presents the true evil, not the disease.

It further interests me that Clara claims that to Aglaya, “there are no such things as miracles; that’s just the way she was made.” That fundamentally Aglaya cannot conceive of the miraculous, unlike her sister, who was predisposed to it. This reinforces that to Aglaya, the Polyhedron cannot be a miracle, only a violation of the Law which thus spawned the plague as punishment. I think Aglaya could likewise consider the Polyhedron and Nina as one and the same, which they are, to an extent—even without my preferred interpretations, Nina is playing musical soul chairs in that thing when not haunting her husband bodily. And given that Aglaya is a self-described servant of the Law and Nina functionally Utopia, I feel that one could view the two sisters as representative of these respective entities perpetually at odds with one another. Yet even with Aglaya and Nina in contrasting roles, I still hold that there is much similarity between them, but. This post is plenty lengthy already, so I shall save that for a later date :,) I wanted to end, instead, with some speculation about Aglaya’s sense of revenge, in particular given that last sentence of Clara’s dialogue—“Or maybe she doesn’t even believe that.”

Returning to that conversation with Victor, I am struck by his response when Artemy asks who could have motivated Aglaya’s potential schemery in Town. That is: “Not a ‘who.’ A ‘what.’ Despair.” This, in my mind, echoes Aglaya’s dialogue when she discusses Block. She claims that, “For a moment, I thought he was driven by the same feeling that I am: a great man, when unexpectedly betrayed by the people he loves, will often seek to fill the whole universe with his blind spite. Yes, the feeling is indeed familiar…” And that line goddamn haunts me. There seems a suggestion, if minimal, that Aglaya’s anger may be influenced by a sense of wounding or betrayal? Not solely her own death or trying to drag Nina down on her way to the grave (it makes me unwell that Clara says Aglaya wants to destroy the Polyhedron “As her final word.” Insanity. Btw.) I suppose Aglaya’s despair or betrayal could broadly refer to some capital confidants of hers, but I do wonder if it references Nina somehow? If only from a narrative standpoint, given that Nina informs Aglaya’s revenge and thus main drive in the story. Once again, characters reiterate that Aglaya’s Inquisitorial duty in Town is a mere means to the end of destroying the Polyhedron; for instance, Daniil states Aglaya “tried to settle personal accounts with her deceased sister” rather than fulfill her duty.

I have no answer to this, I only wonder—does Aglaya somehow feel betrayed by Nina? Did Aglaya even have enough attachment to Nina to feel betrayal to begin with? Maybe one could interpret that, given Aglaya’s description of herself as motivated by blind spite incurred by an unexpected betrayal by people she loves. I don’t know. But I find that far more compelling than Aglaya hating Nina without question, in particular when considering their relationship through the lens of Aglaya as the Law and Nina as Utopia.

[killjoy-prince]

After 10+ Long Rests to clear out any event that can override this one and another Duke rescue later, I finally got Wyll's last romance scene

[siblingshowdown]

Sibling Showdown!!!

This showdown consists of 64 sibling sets facing off against each other, as well as a few one-off polls of sets who didn’t make the actual bracket but who I wanted to include in some capacity.  Polls will last a week.  Round One of section A will go live on April 16, with section B going live the day after, section C the day after that, and section D the day after that.

Propaganda is allowed!  I just ask that it be kept positive.  Argue for your faves instead of against someone else’s.  Every sibling set who made it in the showdown is there because someone wanted them to be, so keep it kind.

Will the winners be the siblings that love each other the most?  That are most capable of killing other sibling groups with their bare hands?  That have the most sibling swag?  It’s up to you to decide!  You get to choose the manner and parameters you judge each sibling set for.

Section A:

Edward and Alphonse Elric (Fullmetal Alchemist) vs. Seiko and Ryuunosuke Tanaka (Haikyuu!!)

Wirt and Greg (Over the Garden Wall) vs.  Han Yoojin and Han Yoohyun (The S-Classes That I Raised)

Shigeo and Ritsu Kageyama (Mob Psycho 100) vs.  Ruby Rose and Yang Xiao Long (RWBY)

Sans and Papyrus (Undertale) vs. Tanjiro and Nezuko Kamado (Demon Slayer)

Jiang Yanli, Wei Wuxian, and Jiang Cheng (Mo Dao Zu Shi/The Untamed) vs. Hikaru and Kaoru (Ouran High School Host Club)

Vi and Jinx (Arcane) vs. Temari, Kankuro, and Gaara (Naruto)

Sokka and Katara (Avatar: the Last Airbender) vs. Maya and Mia Fey (Ace Attorney)

Vash the Stampede and Millions Knives (Trigun) vs.  Lucas and Claus (Mother 3)

Section B:

Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael, and Michelangelo Hamato (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) vs. Violet, Dash, and Jack-Jack Parr (The Incredibles)

Yakko, Wakko, and Dot Warner (The Animaniacs) vs. Jazz and Danny Fenton (Danny Phantom)

Huey, Dewey, and Louie (Ducktales) vs. Sitka, Denahi, and Kenai (Brother Bear)

Dion, Frazie, Razputin, Mirtala, and Queepie Aquato (Psychonauts) vs. Skipper, Rico, Kowalski, and Private (Madagascar)

Eda and Lilith Clawthorne (The Owl House) vs. Snap, Crackle, and Pop (Rice Krispies)

Bonnie and Clemont (Pokemon X and Y) vs. Annika and Brietta (Barbie: Magic of Pegasus)

Candace, Phineas, and Ferb (Phineas and Ferb) vs. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup (Powerpuff Girls)

Nani and Lilo Pelekai (Lilo and Stitch) vs. Kai and Nya (Lego Ninjago)

Section C:

Maddie and Buck Buckley (911) vs. Steven, Shirley, Theo, Luke, and Nell Crain (The Haunting of HIll House)

David and Alexis Rose (Schitt’s Creek) vs. Dennis and Dee Reynolds (It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia)

Jonathan Byers, Will Byers, and El Hopper (Stranger Things) vs.  Prue, Piper, and Phoebe (Charmed)

Luther, Diego, Allison, Klaus, Five, Ben, Viktor Hargreeves (The Umbrella Academy tv) vs. Mary, Billy, Freddy, Pedro, Eugene, and Darla (Shazam! movies)

Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain-Wayne, and Duke Thomas (DC comics) vs. Simon and River Tam (Firefly)

Elliot and Darlene Alderson (Mr. Robot) vs. Kara and Alex Danvers (Supergirl TV)

Connor, Kendall, Siobhan, and Roman Roy (Succession) vs. Sharpay and Ryan Evans (High School Musical)

Thor and Loki (Marvel Cinematic Universe) vs. Sarah and Felix (Orphan Black)

Section D:

Maedhros, Maglor, Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin, Amrod, and Amras (The Silmarillion) vs. Antigone, Polynices, Eteocles, and Ismene (Greek Mythology/Sophocles’s Theban plays)

Coronabeth and Ianthe Tridentarius (The Locked Tomb) vs. Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy Pevensie (The Chronicles of Narnia)

Nico and Bianca Di Angelo (Percy Jackson and the Olympians) vs. Declan, Ronan, and Matthew Lynch (The Raven Cycle/The Dreamer Trilogy)

Alec, Isabelle, Max Lightwood, and Jace Herondale-Lightwood (Shadowhunters) vs. Lark and Sparrow Oak (Dungeons and Daddies)

Violet, Klaus, and Sunny Baudelaire (A Series of Unfortunate Events) vs. Linus and Lucy Van Pelt (Peanuts)

Boromir and Faramir (The Lord of the Rings) vs. Bellamy and Octavia Blake (The 100)

Katniss and Primrose Everdeen (The Hunger Games) vs. Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy March (Little Women)

Kiryu Kazuma and Nishikiyama Akira (Yakuza) vs. Cain and Abel (the Torah/the Bible)

[melodicwriter]

Another fic writer accomplishmenttttt I’m collecting these like infinity stones<3

Someone binge read my fic and stayed up late and sleep deprived themselves for it🤭

[queer-reader-07]

it is some kind of cruel joke that i have to study for my calculus quiz this afternoon when i could be reading a silly little t4t romance or rewatching one of my silly little gay shows

[zurazakis]

how many times do you think this kind of thing happens