#seeing nothing but the conflict humanity makes for itself

[starlitcrows]

god of annihilation, do you, too, grow weary of your duty?

[ponderingmoonlight]

Megumi losing his will to carry on until (y/n) shows up

Pairing: Megumi x reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Synopsis: Megumi can't take it anymore. All the death, the grief, the misery he caused. He'll never forgive himself for losing you...But are you really dead?

Warnings: THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS! but more in a really decent way, like I actually think if you have no idea of the manga you don't get that these are spoilers lol, HEAVY angst but also comfort, poor Megumi is at his lowest so TW if that offends you

I know I promised you a Sukuna fic it technically is and I will serve, but this basically wrote itself so I hope you like this as well hehe

Take a deep breath in and out, calm your tingling nerves, allow your feet to walk at normal pace. You waited so long for this moment, recovered from your endless injuries Sukuna conflicted on your body and soul. It took Shoko forever to stitch you up again, to make you look like a human being again. But there you go, walking on your very own legs, to finally see the true love of your life again.

When was the last time you spoke to him? Oh, you remember it exactly.

“I’m scared. Scared of what will happen, scared about the things we’ll lost…”

“Hey, you’ll never lose me, okay? I will always stay by your side.”

Little did both of you know he’ll break that promise a few weeks later and that he won’t return to your side for over a year. How hard you fought, how desperately you tried to stand a chance against Sukuna – only to get thrown out of life yourself.

“Are you sure you can handle this, that you are fit enough?”, Yuji questioned with his hand resting on your shoulder.

“You know you don’t have to-“

“This might be the only chance to get him back, right?”

Yuji smiled at you with that pained expression on his face you saw countless times these last months.

“Yuta and I think it might work. After all, everyone knows how much you mean to him.”

You clench your hands into fists. There is no doubt in the fact that Megumi Fushiguro is still in there, that he is still the boy you know and adore with all your heart. Even if it means you’ll get attacked again, even if it might end your life, you’ll have to try.

-Megumi-

Megumi’s body doesn’t move an inch, lifeless eyes staring into nothing but darkness. What time is it? He couldn’t care less. No, time doesn’t make any sense right now. Not when he lost everyone he loved. His family, his friends, his self-control. You.

His heart stings immediately. Oh, your gorgeous face hunts him down like nothing else. The way you talked, the way you laughed. The way you looked at him with widened eyes when your lifeless body fell to the ground, the way your blood pooled around his brown shoes.

Why? Why didn’t you listen to him when he told you earlier to stay away from Sukuna? Why did you decide to show up anyway, without Yuji or Yuta by your side? There was absolutely nothing he could do to save you.

Just like his sister.

Just like Gojo-sensei.

Just like everyone else.

It seems unreal to him. Unreal that he’s the one still alive, that all these people lost their lives through his very own hands. Oh, he’ll never forget the way you cared for his sister, your dumb inside jokes with Gojo. He’ll never forget the way you held his hand that one night, how your soft smile outshone the heavy moonlight.

“Don’t worry Megumi, everything will turn out alright eventually!”

Oh, how wrong you were. How awful these words make his guts turn, how desperately he wants to close his eyes forever.

No, you didn’t deserve your fate. Everyone didn’t deserve their fates. But he? He deserves nothing but death.

Nothing but emptiness.

Nothing but darkness.

“Megumi.”

Is he hallucinating again? Is your voice hunting him down like it always does? It sounds so clear, near to reach. As if he could open his eyes, stretch out his hands and-

“Megumi.”

Again.

His skin suddenly starts to feel warm, as if someone touches his arm. Impossible, no one should be here, it’s just him in this prison that never ends-

“Hey, I’m here. It’s me, (y/n).”

“(y/n)?”

That name. That gorgeous name he adores to the moon and back, that last name that saved him from giving up until you died in front of his eyes.

“Hey, it’s been a while.”

“You’re dead.”

That voice sounds so unknown, so far away that you flinch for a second. Is this really Megumi and not just a cheap copy of him? You swallow hard, desperately try to contain your emotions. Oh, how much you longed for this moment, to finally hold the love of your life again. But on the other hand, you can’t take the sight in front of you. Him laying curled up on the cold floor, face showing absolutely no emotion.

You shake your head. No, you have to be strong right now. If not for yourself, then for him.

“Open your eyes, silly. I’m right here”, you reply.

Gently, you cup his cheek with your hand the way he always secretly adored. This just has to work, you need to get him back.

He hesitates for a moment, breath stuck in his throat. Is this really you or just his own sorrow reminding him of the things he’s done? But what…

He opens his eyes.

His gaze finds yours.

Time stands still.

“I missed you, cutie patootie.”

Reality hits him with full force. This might be a cruel trick, a hallucination. But that nickname was always a little secret between both of you, how you called him in private. No one except you knows about it. No one except you looks at him with so much love gleaming in their eyes. No one except…

“(y/n)”, he breathes out.

“I know you think I’m dead but…I made it, Megumi. I never gave up hope to see you again.”

You can’t hold back the waterfall of tears that now streams down your cheeks, eyes holding onto his gorgeous face for dear life, afraid to lose him all over again.

“(y/n).”

And for the first time since you know him, his eyes get watery to the point where they overflow with tears, the salty stream getting caught in your hands.

“(y/n)”, he whimpers again.

“Don’t feel sorry for what happened. It wasn’t you but him. I don’t blame you”, you blurt out immediately.

“(y/n)!”

Faster than you’re able to comprehend what’s happening, he wraps his longing arms around you, presses you so close that your lungs refuse their service for a second.

“I thought you’re dead. I thought…I killed you.”

The sheer agony in his voice forms a painful lump in your throat. Oh poor Megumi…He doesn’t deserve to feel this way, doesn’t deserve to hold all these horrible memories. How much you’d wish you could simply take his pain away, could make him forget what happened.

But all you’re able to do is holding him tightly.

“You would never harm a single hair on my body-“

“But I did!”, he screams.

“I hurt you! I almost killed you! Just like Gojo-sensei, just like Tsumiki!”

His voice breaks, a dry whimper escapes his lips.

“I…I can’t do this anymore. I can’t hurt another soul. I don’t wanna li-“

“Stop right there.”

Desperately, you force him to look into your reddened eyes.

“This wasn’t you, Megumi. Did you hear me? No one ever thought it was you. We loved you, we missed you, we want you back. When Shoko stitched me up, all I was able to think about was you. Fuck that shitty jujutsu world we’re living in, fuck all the curses and monsters and humans. Think about us, Megumi. Think about what you told me back then, that you’ll always stay by my side. Because that’s were I need you, this is why I love you more than anything else. In my eyes, you’ll never be anything apart from Megumi Fushiguro!”

Without thinking twice, you press your despairing lips against his, taste the salty tears of him and you that mixed on each other’s faces. His arms wrap themselves around your back and waist, hold you into place while you get lost against the lips you know so well but yet not at all. Megumi just needs to come back to you, needs to find his willpower again.

“I need you”, you mutter against his mouth.

“I love you.”

The agony radiating from his voice becomes almost unbearable, lets you hold onto his neck even tighter. No, Megumi didn’t deserve what happened to him. He didn’t deserve to see his loved ones die right before his eyes. He didn’t deserve all the things he’s been through. But this right here, this is just right.

This is a reason to hold on, right?

“Promise me you won’t give up”, you urge.

“Promise me you’ll give yourself the chance to heal, that you’ll stand with me and Yuji and the others. Just promise that you’ll come back.”

“I swore to myself not to be a burden to this world anymore, that I’m done with my pathetic life, that I deserve to die. But you’re alive, you’re lying in my arms…And now I’m too selfish to do that.”

Again, he caresses your lips with his in the gentlest way while his arms hold you in place.

“If I’m not able to look at myself in the mirror, I’m able to look at you.”

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[rollinouttahere-writes]

It took the better part of a year, but I've finally figured out where to go with Joyride. A lot of people have been asking for this, so I hope it lives up to your expectations.

Joyride (Part 2)

Part 1

Yandere Ace x GN Isekai Reader

4.8k words

Warning! This contains pretty much every Ace related spoiler btw!

When going into a world you already know everything about, you don’t exactly expect to be surprised by anything. Sure, there will be slight changes and alternate interactions now that you’ve been unceremoniously dropped in, but you had been anticipating for the story to follow all the same beats.

Which is why you were really thrown off when Ace didn’t go his separate way when he was supposed to.

Luffy had succeeded in defeating Crocodile and stopping his plan for dictatorship of Alabasta, but Ace was still here. Granted, having Ace around was hardly the worst thing that could happen, but you didn’t understand what was going on with him.

After your downright bizarre interaction during the little joyride he took you on, you’d honestly had every intention of avoiding him going forward. Then he threw a curveball at you by sincerely apologizing later that night. With everything going on right now he just got a little carried away, that’s all, he won’t harass you about it again. Or so he claimed.

You were skeptical initially, but true to his word, he hasn’t brought up you joining the Whitebeard Pirates since. Between that, and him having an unknown advantage over you by being a favorite character of yours, it was easy to find it within yourself to forgive him. You two have been borderline inseparable since, much to the chagrin of your crewmates. 

While Ace hadn’t openly made further attempts to convince you to join his pops’ crew, he’d found a thinly veiled loophole in the form of telling you all kinds of stories about them. You knew this was in and of itself, a method to win you over, but deemed it not worth calling out. Besides, who were you to refuse the opportunity to get some Whitebeard Pirates lore?

There were many late nights filled with quiet conversations about various shenanigans the crew got up to in their free time, of which there were many. An unsurprising fact because of course having that many sibling jam packed onto a ship would turn it into a vessel of chaos. 

If you had a weaker resolve, these stories might have won you over. But no, you need to go home.

Even though you weren’t convinced on switching crews, or even just staying here, there was a different problem arising from all your quality time together.

The longer you spoke and goofed around with him, the deeper and more intricate the conversations became, the more human he became to you. Or course, he’d technically always been a human being, but your mind had always registered him (as well as everyone else here) as a “character” first and foremost. A figure in a fictional story which you just so happened to be in temporarily. 

Now? After spending so much time with him, aftering seeing him make decisions based off his own experiences and preferences rather than being dictated by some omnipotent author, things have changed. He wasn’t Portgas D. Ace, the fan favorite character from One Piece. He was just Ace, your friend.

With this came something you never saw coming. Guilt. An all consuming, agonizing guilt that picked away at you every single second of the day.

You knew what was to come. You knew what was going to happen to him. What were you doing about it? Absolutely nothing. And for what? For the sake of preserving a story that’s already been altered from your mere presence?

What a disgusting excuse of a friend you were.

The internal conflict you were going through hadn’t gone unnoticed, not when it was taking such a high toll on you. Nami was the first to start grilling you on it. Naturally, she immediately started pointing fingers at Ace as being the cause, which while not wrong, she wasn’t correct in the way she believed herself to be either. It was hardly his fault that you had a heavy conscience. 

Sanji had also picked up on your struggles and was very concerned about the bags under your eyes, even offering to make some tea to assist with sleeping. An offer you turned down perhaps more harshly than truly necessary, but being trapped in a deeper sleep sounded awful with the nightmares you’ve been having.

It had been upsetting enough to watch Ace die through a screen, but in your dreams you were right there. It felt so real.

A suffocating heat burned at your skin and seared your lungs with every panicked breath, which only became more frantic as hot blood splattered over your face. Life was rapidly draining from Ace’s eyes as he collapsed into the waiting arms of his now deeply traumatized brother.

Your feet were rooted to the ground, all you could do was stare in horror as he looked up at you with tearful, pleading eyes. “Why?” The word was more so coughed out than spoken, spraying out more blood that he couldn’t afford to lose. An arm extended towards you, the hand locking onto your own. His nails dug into your skin, drawing out blood of your own to mix with his into a revolting cocktail. “You could have stopped this. How could you do this to me?”

The last word was wheezed out and his body went limp as his dead, lifeless eyes stared through you. A soul wrenching scream tore its way out of Luffy’s throat, only to morph into your own as you were mercifully ripped from your slumber.

The screaming damn near gave Ace a heart attack, you’re sure of it. This nightmare had occurred after you and him had become separated from the rest of the group while traversing the desert, and you had found a compact cave for the two of you to pass the night in.

What made it worse was how he reacted. He was so concerned, even fretting over you as you desperately tried to get your breathing under control. The compassion in his eyes had done nothing to comfort you, it only served to further sicken you. Here he was wanting to save you from something as trivial as a nightmare, yet you couldn’t be bothered to speak up on and prevent his upcoming demise.

The guilt was killing you, and the solution was not only clear, but easy. So why couldn’t you bring yourself to just tell him? To plead and beg for him to give up the chase and not throw his life away. Yet your lips remained sealed. 

All of these elements came to a boil and demanded your attention, so you did what seemed to be the easiest thing to do in your situation. Drink it away.

Now that Luffy had awoken from his brief coma after fighting Crocodile, Alubarna Palace was hosting a lavish party in celebration and thanks for what everyone had done. And what high end party would be complete without absurd amounts of alcohol?

It started with one, purely to help ease your nerves. However, when it didn’t, you poured yourself another. And then a few more. Zoro had initially been thrilled to have you as a drinking buddy, but apparently even he had his limits and had cut you off.

“The hell’s gotten into you? You’re drinking like you’re trying to run from demons,” the bottle of expensive liquor had been moved out of reach when you tried to go for it again.

“You have no idea,” you slurred out, head spinning from your evening of poor decision making.

Zoro shot you a questioning look, but didn’t press it, likely knowing full well that getting a coherent conversation out of you right now would be impossible. He heaved out a sigh and stood up, “I’m going to get you some water, stay right there.”

Thoroughly defeated, you slumped back into your chair. After all that, you still couldn’t get your dilemma out of your head. Your “demons” continued gnawing at your soul, and all that your drinking had done about it was ensure that you would have a miserable hangover in the morning.

Your head lulled to the side, and you caught sight of a familiar orange hat. Speak of the devil. While you were in the throws of self inflicted misery, Ace was happily taking advantage of all the food being offered. Good for him. He deserved a nice night. 

As if acting on its own, your body managed to get up onto its feet. You shambled towards him, doing your best not to fall flat on your face with each uncoordinated step. Whatever invisible force that had been helping you to make the walk to Ace failed you at the last second, and you crashed into him from behind.

“Shit! Wha- Oh, it’s just you,” Ace whirled around, visibly agitated, but his features relaxed when he realized who it was. He appeared to be ready to say more but you cut him off.

“I need to talk to you.” 

Ace quirked a brow, “Yeah? What’s up?” 

From the expectant look he was giving you, it’s clear that he’s waiting for you to spill your guts here and now. You shook your head, “No, it’s… It’s a secret. We have to go somewhere else.” Realization flashed across his face and he nodded. Fortunately for you, he led the way. You honestly did not think you’d be able to scout out a place for this discussion. You were finally going to come clean and tell him everything before you could sober up and come to your senses.  

It was going well. At least it was, until he passed out and took you down with him. You both collided onto the floor with a resounding thud, him on top of you. The hall you’d slipped into was empty, meaning there was no one here to help you. 

You groaned as you attempted to move, the fall had hit you harder than it should have thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol in your system. You were also mentally kicking yourself for not seeing this coming. He was eating when you stumbled into him, of course it was only a matter of time before this happened.

Whatever, there isn’t time to be bemoaning a minor inconvenience. You manage to shimmy out from under him and use the wall to get to your feet. Ace is snoring on the floor, not a care in the world. Hopefully he’ll wake up soon. 

Taking a look around, you see a door just a couple steps away. You inch your way over to it and try the knob. It clicks open, and you peer in. Looks like some sort of guest room, and it’s empty. Perfect.

Pushing the door open fully, you turn back to Ace. He’s still asleep, but you don’t want to wait around for him to wake up on his own and run the risk of being seen. You lean down to grab the closest part of him, his right foot, and pull. You’re not sure if he’s actually heavy, or if you’re just too drunk for this, but you tip over while trying to do this and fall flat on your ass.

“Huh?” Ace’s head snapped up and he looked around owlishly. The second his eyes connected with yours, he remembered what he was doing before his narcoleptic tendencies took the wheel. He laughed, a light blush on his face, as he got to his feet, “Sorry about that, you alright?”

“I’m fine, get in here,” you urged him to hurry, which he did. In the time it took you to stand again, Ace had already slipped into the room, closed the door, and flicked on a lamp so you two wouldn’t be talking in complete darkness. You eye the door for a moment, then grab a chair and drag it over to wedge it under the doorknob. Someone walking in on the conversation you were about to have would be something of a worst case scenario.

Ace watched this curiously, “Is everything okay?”

This probably looked weird, but oh well, it’s about to get a lot weirder. You decide to sit on the bed and motion for Ace to join you, which he does. You take one of his hands in both of yours and stare at him intensely, “I need to tell you something. It’s going to sound insane, but you need to promise me you won’t tell anyone about this.”

He repeated his previous question, asking again if everything was okay, but you cut him off, “Promise me, please!”

Your desperation got through to him, “Okay, I promise! What’s going on?”

Here goes nothing. You take a deep breath and take the leap, “You need to stop going after Blackbeard.”

Ace recoiled immediately, and if you hadn’t been holding onto his hand for dear life, he probably would have backed away from you. “What? I can’t do that, why would y-”

“Let me finish!” You snapped at him, only to immediately regret it. You sighed, “Please. There’s more, please let me finish talking first, and then you can talk.”

While he did not look happy about it, he did relax his shoulders and settled back into the bed. You took this as your cue to continue, “You need to stop going after Blackbeard because you will die if you do.” Ace exhaled sharply and rolled his eyes at this, assuming that this was coming from a place of fear and doubt.

“I know this because,” you took in a shuddering breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. “I know this because in the world that I came from… This world is a story.”

Ace stares at you wide eyed and slack jawed. He laughed, but was very clearly uncomfortable, “I, uh, I think you’ve had a little too much to drink tonight. How about I take you back to your room to sleep it off, okay?” 

He tried to stand, but you yanked him back down, “No! I’m not drunk! Well, I mean, I am, but I know what I’m talking about! I can prove it.”

His expression was nothing short of incredulous, but he indulged you, “Yeah, okay, sure. Go ahead, prove it.”

“You’re hunting down Blackbeard because he murdered Thatch so he could steal his devil fruit,” you started light. Ace had told you about Thatch being the one he was avenging, but he’d never mentioned the devil fruit before, likely not deeming it an important enough detail. His brows knit together and his eyes drifted upwards as he racked his brain to remember if maybe he actually had said something about it.

“Before you were with Whitebeard, you were captain of the Spade Pirates. Your first member was Masked Deuce, who you met while being stranded on an island together. It’s where you found your devil fruit and built Striker,” he hadn’t told you anything in regards to his old crew, and his face reflected that. You definitely had his attention now.

“You and Luffy were raised by mountain bandits because Garp couldn’t raise you two himself. It wasn’t just you guys, though, you had another brother named Sabo, but he was killed when he tried to set sail and got shot down,” at this point, you were saying whatever came to mind with no regard to whether or not it was a good idea to say this right now. You couldn’t bring yourself to keep looking him in the eye, so you settled for staring at his hand in yours. It was completely slack.

“Your parents are Portgas D. Rouge and Gol D. R-”

Before you could finish the sentence, Ace’s free hand clamped over your mouth with such ferocity that you almost fell off the bed. Forcing yourself to make eye contact again, you see that his are blown wide and wild. The color has been drained from his face and he looked physically ill from hearing everything you just threw at him.

An extremely tense moment passed with nothing to be heard beyond his labored breathing. Then, he hesitantly let go of your face and with a shaky voice said, “Okay. I’m sorry. I believe you. What… What’s going to happen if I keep pursuing Blackbeard?”

You attempted to swallow the lump in your throat, but it refused to go away, “When you catch up with him, you’ll fight, but lose. Your powers are no match for his, you don’t stand a chance against him. After your loss, he turns you in to the marines. 

“Because of who your father is, they decide to make an example out of you and sentence you to death.”

“That bastard turns me in and I get executed?” He sounds like the wind has just been knocked out of him. Disbelief and bitterness are the two most prevalent emotions in his tone, but many others brew beneath the surface.

“Not exactly,” it’s true that he gets turned in and killed, but it’s nowhere near that simple and straightforward. “Luffy comes to your rescue at Marineford, and so does Whitebeard and a lot of his crew.”

Before you could go more into detail, Ace speaks up, “They… W-Why would they do that?”

“Why would they- You have to ask?!” Your voice raises and you have to remind yourself of just how much character development he has to go through in that arc to finally realize and accept the fact that he’s genuinely loved. “Because you’re family, their family! They care about you and don’t want to see you die!”

Your outburst shocked him, but not as much as seeing you start to cry did. His hand is abandoned and you lurch forward to bring him into a suffocatingly tight hug, “Y-You are so loved, you know that? They l-love you so much! A lot of people do! I do! We all want to see you live and be happy!” You limply hang off of him as more tears bubble to the surface, greedily taking the chance to escape with every sob as you finally let out everything you’ve been keeping in. Ace makes no move to return your embrace, he just sits there stiff as a board. 

“A-And, at that battle, you’re killed by Admiral Akainu while protecting Luffy. He’s devastated by it, being forced to watch you die hurts him so bad,” you cling onto him tighter upon feeling him flinch from your words. “Whitebeard dies there too.”

“What?! How could anyone kill him? That can’t be right!” You’re wrenched off Ace violently and his stare is almost as unhinged as it was when you said his parents’ names.

“Blackbeard does it,” Ace freezes at this. “That should give you an idea of how strong he is. If he can kill Whitebeard, fighting you is nothing to him. Besides, you of all people would know how hard it is to kill him,” you chuckle but it’s humorless, empty even.

A heavy stretch of silence follows after that. Ace’s eyes don’t leave your face for even a second, desperately searching for anything that would tell him that this is all one big, sick joke. But there’s nothing of the sort. 

Slowly, he releases your shoulders and he shifts away from you to rest his head in his hands. Without his support, you allow yourself to fall back onto the bed. Between all the alcohol and your emotional outburst, you’re exhausted and want nothing more than to sleep. You try to force yourself to stay awake, but it feels like an insurmountable task. 

“Hey, Ace?” There’s no answer, but you continue anyway, “I’m sorry. I know that was a lot. If, um… If you don’t believe me about knowing what’s going to happen, stick around until after we set sail again. Bon Clay- Mr. 2- is going to bring the Going Merry over here so that we don’t have to backtrack. Marines will be all over the place, but he sacrifices himself so that Luffy and his crew can get away. Once they’ve lost the marines, Nico Robin will reveal herself to have been hiding on the ship and joins the crew.”

Ace continues to not react to what’s being said, you’re not even sure he’s listening to you at this point. As much as you want to comfort him, your limbs feel like lead and your head is swimming. The last thing you see is the jolly roger of the Whitebeard’s staring you down as you fade into darkness.

—

Consciousness comes back to you slowly. Painfully so. Before you can even make out your surroundings, you’re assaulted by the worst headache of your life. The stabbing pain behind your eyes is crippling, all you want is to retreat back to the comfort of sleep, but you know that’s not going to happen.

It doesn’t help that your mouth is so dry that you feel like you’re back in the desert. One hand comes up to gingerly massage your eyes. The action brought more discomfort than relief, but it did clear up your sight a little. 

As your senses ebb back into you, you hone in on the pressure all over your body. It takes considerable effort, but you manage to lift your head enough to take a look. Your nose is less than an inch from bumping into someone else’s. Chopper’s to be exact. He was curled up into your side and using your chest as a pillow. Looking past him, Luffy was sprawled across your lap, belly up. Both of them were still asleep.

You prop yourself up on one arm. Chopper shifts, but doesn’t wake. Off to your side is a bedside table with a glass of water on it. Oh, thank God. Using the arm you aren’t propped up with, you grab it and bring the cup to your lips. The water is divine, an absolute blessing for your dry throat.  

As you enjoy your drink, your eyes glance around to observe the rest of the room. It’s the one you all have been staying in since saving Alabasta. Most of your friends are in their respective beds, except for Chopper and Luffy, obviously. Zoro was also not in his bed, instead being slumped over in a chair next to your own.

Your eyes flicker over to the massive windows of the room, and you spot Ace sitting in the windowsill. From the way he’s positioned, he appears to be awake already. Your gaze narrows as you focus on him. Something tickled at the back of your mind, demanding to be remembered. But what?

“Y-You are so loved, you know that? They l-love you so much! A lot of people do! I do! We all want to see you live and be happy!” 

The water going down your throat is suddenly going out of it when you choke. Memories come back and hit you like a train as you realize what exactly it is you did last night.

Naturally, this wakes up Chopper and Luffy, who are both jolted from their once peaceful sleep by you choking on your drink. Chopper immediately starts to panic, “AH! Don’t die, (Y/N)!”

—

It was crucial that you speak to Ace again, but it seemed like the world itself was committed to making sure that didn’t happen. Ace slipped out of the room while everyone was fussing over you, and it honestly felt like he was avoiding you now. Everytime you thought you might be able to catch him alone, either he vanishes, or someone else comes out of nowhere to drag you away.

Today was the day you all set sail from Alabasta, and while that did put you in close proximity with Ace, it also put everyone else within earshot of you two. And considering the delicate nature of what you needed to talk about, that was extremely inconvenient. 

The only good thing was that the events following leaving Alabasta played out exactly how they were supposed to. Hopefully that meant that Ace would believe you and give up hunting down Blackbeard, but you won’t be able to confirm that unless you speak with him. 

You were so stressed that you’d barely been able to focus on Robin being here. She “introduced” herself to you as if she hadn’t had an extremely uncomfortable run in with you in an alleyway back in Rainbase, but all you could manage was a half-assed handshake before excusing yourself.

For probably the fifteenth time today, you checked to make sure that Striker was still tied to the Merry. It was, much to your relief. But where was Ace hiding? You haven’t seen him since Robin showed herself.

The stress of trying and failing to corner him was doing nothing to help with your hangover, your head felt like it was about to explode. Did you still have Advil in the bag you got isekai’d here with? Maybe. Pushing off the railing, you march to where your room is while praying that you’re right about the painkillers.

You open the door without much thought, only to stop dead in your tracks when you catch sight of Ace rummaging through your belongings and stuffing them into his backpack. The door opening did briefly make him stop and peer over his shoulder to see who it was, but the second he saw it was you, he went right back to pillaging. 

“Can I help you? Why are you robbing me?” You stomp over to where he’s crouched down and shove his shoulder. 

“I’m not robbing you, I’m packing for you,” Ace mumbled, sounding lost in thought.

“Why would you be packing for me? Actually, you know what? That’s the least of my concerns right now, we need to talk about last night.”

“We’ll talk about it later, not here.” He still hasn’t properly faced you, and you were getting sick of only making eye contact with his tattoo and not him. 

“Where else would we talk about it?!” You hissed.

Seeming content with his work, he stood up and kicked the dresser drawer shut, “On the Striker. Or maybe the Moby Dick, I guess. I’m going back and you’re coming with me.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing, “Excuse me?”

“I’m going back to the Moby Dick, and you’re coming with me.” Ace had finally turned to face you. His eyes were sunken and vaguely bloodshot. 

The sight catches you off guard, “Did you sleep at all last night?”

He shook his head, “No, we’re going to have to stop somewhere else to sleep before going the rest of the way back home.”

“Ace, I’m not going with you. Look, I’m happy that you’re calling off your hunt, relieved honestly, but I’m staying here.” You will ideally be figuring out how to go home sometime soon, there’s no sense in hopping around from crew to crew now.

One of his eyes twitched, and he looked exasperated, “You can’t stay here. You aren’t safe here.”

“What are you-”

“Let me finish,” the words were spoken calmly, but very firm. “I don’t think you understand how serious this is. You apparently know everything about this world and what’s going to happen in it, do you have any idea what will happen to you if word gets out about this?”

“You’re the only person I’ve told, so as long as you keep your mouth shut, I’ll be fine.”

“Until you get drunk again and tell someone else, then what?” His words were just as scathing as his gaze.

Your face flushed in shame, “That won’t happen again.”

“You don’t know that!” Ace snapped at you, then sighed and dragged a hand down his face, “This is for your own good. Nothing good will come from anyone else learning about this. If it ever got back to someone like Big Mom, she would send every single one of her children after you so she could have you on her side. And that’s the nicer option. I’m sure the marines would be more than happy to kill you off so that no one else could have you if they can’t.”

Throughout this entire conversation, his face had remained uncomfortably neutral, but now it cracked. Fondness peaked through the exhaustion as his expression softened ever so slightly. He steps forwards and brings you against him in a crushing embrace. His skin is hot to the touch, effectively chasing away any chill that you may have had.

“You said you wanted to see me live, and I want to see you live, too.” The words are hushed, you wouldn’t have been able to hear him if he hadn’t been speaking right next to your ear.

Reluctantly, he pulls himself away. His face is serious again, “We’re leaving tonight, be ready to go.”

“But-”

“If you don’t come willingly, I will make you. The only thing that you resisting will accomplish is making this messier than it needs to be. Even if you don’t like this now, you will thank me for it later.”

Ace spins on his heel and heads for the door. All you can do is stand there gawking at him as he leaves. Just before the door closes behind him, he spares a glance over his shoulder to say, “I’ll see you tonight.”

[dokidokitsuna]

Tragic Sky

(very long salty rant ahead (+new Alterna backstory, though! ^^;))

So I've always thought Alterna’s backstory, despite being presented as a grand mystery that’s definitely worth fighting through 90% of the missions to uncover in its entirety…was kinda stupid. :/ I’m all for humanity destroying itself for ridiculous reasons, but trying to launch a rocket in an enclosed space?? Are you serious…? o_O How could the Alternans devote such immense amounts of time and energy to something like that without once thinking, “hey, uh…burning metric tons of high-energy fuel inside of our flammable safety dome might be a little unsafe, idk”.

And it shouldn’t even have been necessary! DX I mean, if they were able to build a dome like that in the first place, wouldn’t they have some sort of scaffolding or elevator system they could use to reach the top and just literally climb out if they wanted to leave that badly?? Had Alterna existed for so long that the technology used to create it was lost to time (seeing as it’s implied that Alterna was destroyed by its SECOND generation, I doubt it)...?? Or, did the writers suddenly realize that coming up with pseudo-scientific lore that explains why inkfishes resemble humanity is wholly unnecessary and adds nothing to the themes of Splatoon…but it was too late to rework the concept, so they just finished off the story with whatever-the-heck and called it a day. ¯_(ツ)_/¯ I guess we’ll never know...

Anyway, my version of Alterna’s backstory starts with a similar premise: humans invented crystal thingies that can manifest people’s desires and whatnot…but this alone caused conflict that eventually doomed Alterna. People began to make their own interpretations of other people’s desires, judging and condemning them for how they manifested. They began treating the crystals’ reflections as compulsory measures of morality and worth, rather than simple expressions of the human heart that exist outside of a good/bad binary. Alterna’s leaders envisioned themselves creating a society of ‘pure truth’, free from the destructive power of deceit and subterfuge…all the while ignoring the destructive power of paranoia and exclusion that they immersed themselves in.

Exclusion escalated to oppression, which eventually spawned rebellion: plans were made to create a rocket that would allow a select group of ‘undesirables’ to escape Alterna for the surface world, destroying the integrity of their safe haven in the process. Despite not knowing what was waiting for them out there, they were willing to take the risk in the name of freedom. Eventually, this secret plan was revealed to the public, resulting in Alterna’s first and last civil war. As the Alternans began to fight and kill each other, the crystals were overwhelmed with the unprecedented ferocity of their clashing desires-- “a violent and terrible chain reaction ensued”, and the energy within them exploded outward. The sky dome, still filled with the beautiful blue of the peoples’ wishes for peace and happiness, came crumbling down, raining fire and shrapnel upon Alterna. The still-poisoned air of the outside world flowed freely into the cavern, ensuring the eventual death of anyone who might have survived.

…Then the crystals fell in the ocean, the sea creatures were imbued with human hopes and dreams, yadda yadda, all that’s basically the same as the canon too. And although I still think it’s unneeded (the mere concept of a bygone humanity in Splatoon carries plenty of weight without all this “lore”, imo), at least now the story isn’t stupid!

It speaks to the way humans actually treat each other, and blames their downfall on their long-established bad habits of cruelty and callousness, rather than morally-neutral traits like ambition and pursuit of the unknown (I would never have expected “curiosity killed the cat” as the lesson of the day from Splatoon, of all franchises. o_O This IS the same game that celebrates individual expression and forging your own path, right…?)

Anyway…I’m gonna be using elements of this rewritten backstory and the theme of “manifesting desires” to flesh out the final boss encounter and Agent 3’s subtle character arc. So please look forward to that~

[autism-alley]

hi originally posted this at the end of a long thread of back and forth, here’s the og post if you want full context but i feel like this needs to be its own post especially bc i keep seeing this argument being made—the argument that the kids (in this case it was annabeth) SHOULD just know the monsters are monsters and who they are and how to defeat them before ever encountering them, that it’s a problem if they don’t.

the problem is not if 12 year olds should recognize a trap when they see one, even if they’re smart 12 year olds, and if that’s realistic. that is entirely beside the point.

the problem is rick riordan wrote a book series whose formula is bringing myths to the modern age and he’s not sticking true to that in the show—percy jackson and the olympians’ Shtick is taking these classic, ancient threats and giving them a new face. these traps work because these kids are not walking into a cave marked with Get Out and getting ambushed by monsters—the monsters are disguised as harmless mortal human beings, in harmless mortal human being places (for the most part) and i think we—and more importantly, the show—are all forgetting the mist, the magic involved here. it’s not just that medusa is a “creepy lady with her eyes covered” it’s that there is ancient magic at work here, magic that, like the systems of abuse pjo exists to criticize, has been evolving and continuing its malevolence for millennia. it’s formulaic, that’s the point. it’s the same trap you’ve learned about all your childhood, the same trap a thousand children before you learned all their childhoods, and still, it works. you fall into the trap. because that’s how generational abuse works. it’s a trap. it isn’t enough to learn monsters exist, what they look like from a second hand story that originated thousands of years ago. if you want to escape alive, you have to adapt as quickly as they do, recognize their face, and ultimately, beyond any individual trap, the game itself has to change. real, generational change.

so. the problem is rick riordan wrote a series with a formula for action that perfectly captures the overarching, systemic conflicts he was commentating on, and then threw that formula out in the show because it was “unrealistic”. i don’t give a damn about realism when it works to the detriment of the story. this is a story about generational abuse, yes, but it’s told through ‘a tale as old as time’ and that’s why it works so fucking well. and when it comes to basic storytelling, if your characters know the threat before they even walk in and you do practically nothing to then make up for the stakes you have removed, that’s a flaw. now you’ve lost the entertainment value for your audience, on top of also lessening your themes.

something else that is so. honestly soul-crushing as a writer and a creative, is that to me this is reflective of the way we are now afraid to tell earnest stories. stories where we care not for listening to the people who want to pick apart fictional, mythical, fantasy stories for not being “realistic” instead of aligning with our target audience who acknowledges reality is not what makes a story. think of your favorite movie, show, book, comic, what have you—has the reason for your favoritism ever been because it is the most reasonable, the most grounded, the most practical out of any you’ve seen? or is it because of the emotion? the way it speaks to you, to your life and the person you are? the journey it takes you on? is the percy jackson and the olympians book series so good because it’s inherently realistic?

the secret to storytelling is, very simply, focus on your story. everything else is secondary. if it’s written well, it doesn’t matter to me that the characters walk into a trap that, to the audience, is obviously a trap. because i can understand how the characters don’t know it, and how the story falls apart if the narrative just tells the characters it’s a trap from the jump. that’s what dramatic irony is—first used in greek tragedies! this is literally a tale as old as time in every sense except for the end—where it’s happy. and it’s not earned if we don’t first see, over and over, the status quo as a tragic trap.

it’s not about if annabeth (or the other kids) is “smart enough” to not walk into a trap, or about if she’s just too prideful to not walk into what she knows is a trap (or any reason that could apply to the other characters), it’s that annabeth, at the end of the day, is a character. she is a storytelling tool for the messages of the narrative. that doesn’t make her any lesser. in fact ignoring it reduces her, because it reduces what she represents. it’s about how rick riordan, or whoever else at disney, has fumbled the storytelling bag so ridiculously hard that they can’t take the simple, effective formula outlined from start to finish (by good ol 2009 rick himself) and adapt it to the screen without answering the most unimportant, derailing, anti-story questions.

[bitchin-tubs]

I'm curious what Adam's redesign would look like with your artist eyes (you're really cool)

I’m glad someone asks me abt Adam because here’s what I have so far!

Ok soooo I actually hadn’t thought much about Adam’s role in the plot itself since I am changing the original role to Cain (who repents his sins by being Heaven’s best soldier) but I still knew I wanted him there as a figure of both admiration and fear to Adam (not because he’d do anything to him, he fears disappointing his parents again)

From then on I had nothing in mind for him until I found this draft

Personally I love the vibe here, he looks softer and wiser yet dominant, all which I can expect from the first ever human. Me personally I don’t like that winners have alternative forms when I’m Heaven, I don’t see the point other than to avoid designing humans. I can forgive it for the angels and even then I like to make more human-esque designs now and then

So for Adam’s designs I definitely wanted to keep him more human but to reflect a bit of his lore his form he has certain inhuman features. He wears no clothes (hehe) and uses his hair as a tunic of sorts, under all those locks he is an old man for sure but his hair and beard twists and connects in impossible ways to give him a slightly regal look. That and his wings.

Winners do not have wings or physical halos (their chest glows gold reflecting their “clean” soul)

Because of his greater status as the first human he takes a greater role in Heaven usually advising the angels and bringing wisdom to souls that reside in Heaven. I plan to have an arc where Cain’s duties conflicts with his ideals and his son goes ballistic over it wahhh

Here are some more concepts

And THANK YOUUU I’m always happy to share my ideas and even happier y’all like them

[theoddest1]

Hazbin Hotel episode 5 is a rushed mess.

May just make this a continual thing where I review the episodes from here on out.

-Right off the bat, the pacing for this episode is probably the worst out of all other episodes so far. Things just begin abruptly (Lucifer's first song with Al for instance), no build up, 5 months have passed in only 5 episodes of barely any progress or focus on Charlie as a character, a random character that didn't need to be introduced but was anyway ruined the flow further, and this stupid ass rivalry all on the basis of who's the "better dad" is legit the most random conflict of any conflict so far. That will get a point all on its own along with some of the other things mentioned. The pacing left no real breathing room aside from 2 moments: Al's rise to power and Husk n Al's convo. I wanna say the second song would be a 3rd but it just resolves an issue that was present for seemingly years and pulled a "Stolas" with having a song or sob story as an excuse for the lack of effort to reach out and be a better dad. Lazy writing and pacing overall.

-5 months....5 months have passed with barely anything revolving around helping sinners or trust built around the main cast SHOWN ON SCREEN. We are told important information opposed to witnessing the progress itself. This is not only lazy but extremely jarring cause it feels as though episodes were skipped and bonds feel unearned. They get easily resolved in what feels like seconds, and we're just supposed to....deal with it. Angel and Husk barely interact throughout this episode, which, after the crazy ride they had, with the knowledge of a SEVERAL MONTHS passing by as well, you'd think Angel would be shown to be more chatty with him....which he doesn't. Nothing crazy, just small bits of them interacting and enjoying each other's company. Nah. We get that next episode, and even THAT'S lacking. I'll tackle that in a separate post. But yeah, 5 months, and we have yet to see the other guests' views and how it has changed for the better or the process of them realizing WHY they would go for redemption. How that has affected them. Nothing of note has come about from any of these. No other sinners have joined. No other demons seem interested in Charlie's Hotel. Nothing. We are told things have been done, yet it feels like we are still at the starting line, or well, a foot away from it and miles away from the finish.

- Lucifer is a joke. I don't mind me a goofy threat, it adds a charm to them but also shows that they take so little seriously due to their immense power....not Lucifer. No, that guy just....is a joke. Dude is in his mansion making fucking toy ducks for some reason and just has depression (show said it outright, not even depression is spared from "tell don't show")

He does literally nothing, doesn't seem to WANT to do anything, and no one respects the guy. Nearly all in the Hotel lack fear, intimidation, or admiration for the guy (Pentious is the only one who seems to exhibit admiration of some kind). The closest we got is being uncomfortable. That's it. Then there's his scuffle with Alastor. Tell me why he feels the need to argue with this sucka again? Cause last I checked, Alastor is a mere overlord, and Lucifer is The Devil. Wtf is this randomass rivalry that just...S T A R T S? Why does Lucifer get intimidated or moved by Al? It makes no sense. Lucifer has been alive far longer than humanity itself, but nah this random fuck who looks like he robbed a blood bank got him weeping insecurities? I'm supposed to take this sad excuse of a character seriously? How many of these carbon copy characters will Viv make until I finally end my suffering???

-Wtf is Alastor's deal? Why is he so pressed and annoyed? One moment he is as cool and collected as a cucumber and showing only SLIGHT annoyance (Vox and His song), then he goes to meetings and speaks with people far older, far more experienced, and/or far stronger than he show no interest and he gets pissy? How insecure is he that people not caring where he's gone or thinking his ideas are wack is what leads to his eye twitching and him throwing a random ass cuss. Seriously, THAT'S what got him to swear? That his idea for the hotel's name is stupid? BFFR! You can not be serious right now, THAT'S what gets him going? You'd think with how witty and chill he was in the pilot, he would find a quick and a effective smart-ass comeback, not essentially bitch at The Devil. This makes Alastor look like a thin-skinned wannabe, too cause these minor ass comebacks are why he has lost his edge along with some randomass song number?? And at the end of the day, Al just couldn't be damned anymore to even care by the end of the episode, he doesn't speak with Lucifer or give any stank looks, doesn't speak with Charlie, does NOTHING pertaining to the issues prior, nah, he just stands there and watches after telling Mimzy to go away. Some say he did this to simply piss Lucifer off, but that doesn't make sense (not saying it ain't true, just saying if it is, it's nonsensical). First off, if that were the case, why was he annoyed even BEFORE seeing the guy?

If he only wanted to get a rise, why is HE getting angry? Trolls usually don't care enough to be this pissed. Second, wtf would he even gain from doing this? What to help push Lucifer to be a better father to Charlie, request by Lilith to Al so that Lucifer can get his act together?? If so, that's the LAZIEST shit I have ever heard. Lucifer is such a joke, he needed a SINNER to get him back on track....

Regardless, this whole father shit by Al comes out of nowhere and ruins the goddamn flow of the episode. Prior to it all, Al has shown NO interest in anyone and has done jack shit. Wtf does he even do? He's done ONE thing so far and that was help for the commercial. Alastor has shown to be completely useless as of now.

-Charlie, why is she treated as tho she isn't a grown ass woman? She's babied to hell and back and despite being the daughter of Lucifer, hasn't shown any of her abilities to help the hotel. So Lucifer can summon shit but not her? Is she that useless? Also, gotta love how she never asks her dad about the Valentino situation to help Angel out. Man...what a great ass friend. She also doesn't find it weird that Al is just suddenly...babying her? She has zero awareness of everything, I guess, which is getting annoying now. You're over 200 years of age (went to high school in the 1800s according to what her comic was about, but guess that's retconned based on what happens in the following episode).

So she doesn't use her abilities to tidy up the place, she doesn't act her damn age, she doesn't do anything to help her sexually assaulted friend. What a damn joke, just like her dad.

-Mimzy shouldn't have been in an episode about Lucifer. Plain and simple. Her character should have been introduced in one of the earlier episodes. Not during fucking this. And we got a repeat of the pilot with Alastor's backstory retold. So they're down to retell his rise to power but not to make at least a proper recap of the events that happened prior? Key word....PROPER.

-Husk caring about Mimzy bringing trouble is actually fucking stupid. Because of the lack of proper build up to him now finding more reason to like the Hotel, it feels forced that he would be worried about what danger Mimzy brought. And on top of that, yeah...ALASTOR IS RIGHT THERE. You know who else is there? LUCIFER. I get it, Lucifer stood by and watched as the Hotel was being swatted, but he also sang a song about providing what Charlie asked for, meaning if she had asked her dad, he woukd be down to help, so WHY TF IS HE WORRIED???? Also , is Charlie just INCAPABLE of fighting for herself?? "She doesn'twanna hurt sinners-" so she had no defensive abilities??? What???? Also, that's a damn lie, she fought Katie Killjoy on live Tv. Are no other damn people capable of protecting the Hotel??? Why did Al need to step in for that? They were just LOAN SHARKS.

Anyway, the scene where Husk is probing Alastor about Mimzy and treating him as a pet is decently paced and the tone was pretty neat, sucks that this feels like their way of showing that Husk is also under a leash like Angel rather than him being treated as a joke, which btw...horrid way to compare the two. Wanna know why? One is subjected to an onslaught of sexual assault whether he was pushing Val's buttons or not, and forced to be assaulted by various men around him, passed around like a thing. The other is Husk, who legit disrespected Alastor and had to push at him to get such humiliation and terror, and guess what....Al still ended up pushing Mimzy away after she did end up bringing trouble, so he did essentially listen to Husk in his own distant way. This is the ONLY TIME we see Al be downright mean to Husk and probably the only time. Angel has been subjected to nothing but horrid assault after assault no matter the situation. So I better not see anyone say, "SEE LOOK, THEY'RE BOTH ABUSED" stfu. Nothing about their situations are even remotely similar. Just cause the chains are the same doesn't mean the users are. EDIT: Ima say this before people act like I excuse this. No, I am not excusing Alastor's actions. I am pointing out what happened on screen. Husk mocked Alastor, Alastor retaliated out of anger(much like how Angel retaliated at Husk in ep 4 after Husk kept arguing and mocking him) by pulling out the chains to shut him up. He didn't even hit Husk. Again, I'm not excusing it, just pointing out how vastly different Husk and Angel's situations are and how one overlord reacts compared to the other....who is a straight-up rapist.

-Both the songs are mid/ok but pulled down by the awful storytelling....shame. I at first was not fond of Lucifer's voice.....it's ok now, I guess. Idk. I'm still not really feeling it, though.

Episode sucked ass

Pacing was all over the place

ALASTOR AND LUCIFER ARE PISS BABIES

[cookie-nom-nom]

Reading Barrayar I felt trapped in Cordelia’s head. It’s incredibly effective for the dread of war as a civilian. Plans and machinations happening beyond you, with no input. Hearing of things happening that seem far off and like yeah that’s awful but then suddenly it dominoes in a way that destroy your life and it’s not your fault and you could've done nothing at all to prevent it. Especially the tension of being hunted in the Dendarii mountains with no idea how the war is going, if they’ve already lost, if it is already too late. Cordelia is doing actively important things in service of the war by sheltering Gregor, yet there's this pervasive feeling of helpless lack of control. She spends most of the book with this dread of not knowing when the next threat to their family will come, and I don’t think it could’ve been done so effectively if we had access to the information Aral had. I found it frustrating at times, since it felt like Cordelia was swept up in events with little agency (at first; obviously our dear captain didn’t remain there). I wanted so badly to be with Aral seeing and knowing and making the decisions.

But that’s the point! Most people have absolutely zero agency in those situations and little information and it’s terrifying. Barrayar captures the feeling of being a civilian in war where so many narratives narrow in upon the heroes and 'men of history' that control conflicts. That's what readers expect. I think that’s why I loved the ending so much. After so long trapped with Cordelia, just trying to survive the larger machinations of Barrayar’s bloody politics, it felt so, so good to finally be on the offensive, to have information the opponents don’t, to finally have power and the means to control what happens. It's a relief to the constant tension of having no agency in a giant conflict that frankly Cordelia had no business being affect by, yet was swept up in because of her love of Aral.

Which is the second thing I deeply enjoyed in Barrayar. I love how the war is made so human. A messy tangle of human relationships control it. I can’t stop thinking about the hostages. There are just so many children being used because the war holds the future hostage. Tiny precious Miles utterly incapable of comprehending how large a pawn he is. Young grieving Gregor vital to the plans of both sides whether dead or alive. Elena, who should be of no importance but she is because that's the kid of an unimportant soldier, just like every other hostage is another piece in the web of the war. I keep thinking about the relatives of Aral’s men caught in the capital. The hostages that Aral refuses to take. Everyone just trying to take care of those they love, and the points where they must put other priorities over their relationships are heart wrenching.

Barrayar looks dead on at how little people try to survive a civil war. From the mountains where the fighting seems so far, and information is slowed to a trickle of the singular mailman. The invasion of forces that disrupts people who may not even know there’s a war yet. The scientists and the genius lost in a single blast that goes unnoticed. The urban populations trying to sneak in food and people and keep their heads down. Random citizens debating who to sell out, weighing risks and bounties, if it will get them the favor with the occupiers that will help them survive. All so small in the grand scheme of things, and yet they are who Barrayar concerns itself with.

Cordelia’s uncertainty and fear would’ve been undermined if we were allowed to see in the heads of people driving the conflict, because Barrayar isn’t about those people. It is the desperation of two mothers, powerless and kept in the dark, that topples the regime.

Addendum: Cordelia’s relationship to Aral firmly places her in an upper class position that is important to note when discussing the role of civilians/‘little people’ within this analysis. But as a woman on Barrayar she is extremely limited in the power she is allocated, especially compared to someone like Aral, which would be the military leadership POV that novels more focused on the grander scope of war would utilize. Again not to say Cordelia has no agency or power, but it is not to the degree of the people in charge. Thus I place her alongside the average people swept up in a war outside their control. Still, her position as a Vor Lady gives her some access knowledge and connections that she turns into power, which while limited are far more than the average citizen. Her significance to Vordarrian is exclusively viewed as yet another hostage, an underestimation that Cordelia readily exploits, but still afforded only due to her status. Cordelia occupies a position of importance but not power beyond the scope of the people she’s formed direct relationships with, which only further ties into the essay's thesis.

[etherati]

Belmont crest and colorrrrssss

I have a lot of thoughts and feels about the colors used in various versions of the Belmont crest in the netflix show, and how it fits into traditional heraldry. I have decided to make that everyone else's problem. So.

In Leon's portrait, we see him in a surcoat of white with the Belmont crest rendered in azure blue.

In traditional heraldry the "white" component of this would be synonymous with the metal silver/argent, as matte white was not a meaningful color choice and all colors had to be combined with a metal (silver or gold) rather than another color. Now, I know that in the Doylesian sense, this color choice was made because of Leon's original character design, which utilized different tradition imagery and had nothing to do with the Belmonts specifically:

But the text is what it is and the show gave us the first Belmont in an azure and argent version of the Belmon crest. Color meanings vary depending on your source, but azure typically referred to truth, loyalty, and unwavering morality. Morality is, of course, a construct--you can imagine that for the rebellious ex-church-knight Belmont it probably had some input from the bible but moreso was informed by his own oath--to "battle the night". Yeah, this gets made fun of--he's the dumbass who wants to fight an entire time of day--but we know what he means, ok. He's swearing to defend the daylight world against the things in the night that would harm it. He is defining his moral position going forward very specifically--he will uphold humanity and destroy that which would cause it harm. In a fic of mine he described it as representing the daylight sky, which given that he's a vampire in that fic carries even more poignancy, but even in the canon version it works, because that is the moral field he is aligning with.

Meanwhile argent/silver generally refers to purity, sincerity, and faith, which yeah, this is definitely a character who has purity of purpose. This combination of colors suits a vision of the Belmonts that served humanity unerringly, who had faith even when the church itself seemed flawed, who defined their morality by the divide between daylight and night and executed it with sincerity and dedication.

Fast forward to Trevor's time. The family has risen and fallen. At its height it was considered a great noble family--a warrior dynasty, as Alucard put it. Trevor's tunic and his armor both bear the crest in gold; once we're in the hold, we see that it's set against a deep burgundy in the official banners and standards. 

Why the change? What does it mean? Red is obvious--it's the warrior side of them, the military might, the weight of generations of fighters and all the blood they've spilt. It's the most common color in heraldry because conflict and war were themselves so common, but the Belmonts (to our knowledge) weren't besieging neighboring Lords' territories. They defined themselves by their fight against the creatures of the night, defined themselves to the point that they became The Fight. The warrior is the largest part of their identity. In the same fic I had Trevor say that the red represented family to him, like bloodlines, which is not the traditional meaning--but given that nothing defined his family or his relationship with them as much as The Fight, I still think he was onto something. Additionally, red can carry the meaning of sacrifice and martyrdom, which also fucking fits, unfortunately.

As for the gold, usually this refers to faithfulness, nobility, constancy, and glory. On its own, it's a statement of those qualities--particularly nobility and faithfulness. Combined with warrior's red, the glory piece of it starts to assert itself. A family of martyrs and warriors, noble and glorious--that's how they saw themselves, anyway. The family had gotten so far up its own ass that it cared more about perpetuating those ideals and standards than it necessarily did about the original purpose and duty of its existence! Eventually Trevor re-finds that purpose, when he drops the cloak in Gresit and re-dedicates himself to protecting the people--but it's worth noting that the crest he displays in that moment is gold alone, without a specific colored field. The version of the Belmonts that defined themselves by the amount of blood they'd shed are dead and buried, their flags tattered; the one who survived has taken their steadfastness, their faithfulness and constancy and nobility, and managed to reconnect it to what they always should have been.

Which brings us full circle, back to Leon's portrait--because there's another crest, there.

Azure and gold. All the steady dedication of a long standing nobility--much less fragile than one man's personal purity of purpose--applied to moral defense of humanity and the daylight world, rather than simply to fighting and glory for its own sake. There's a reason this is the color scheme I plan for Leon to end up in, in my fic-verse, and is the one that I think may have been in between the other two, chronologically. It conveys all the Belmonts are meant to be and do, without reducing them to simply violence. They fight, not for the fight's sake, but to protect the people they've sworn to protect.

Anyway. Yeah. Uh, colors!

[angrydino42-and-avathecannibal]

machines are imperfect because they’re made from imperfect hands. It’s why every supercomputer is individually different. We’ve raged at our devices for their malfunctions yet we keep telling ourselves they are absolute perfection. We expect nothing but pure efficiency. But efficiency doesn’t mean predictability, neither does it mean haste. It takes longer to think these things through than it does to rush into the battlefield, yet strategising is more logical than running in head first. Logical thinking wastes resources which is inefficient. If you look closely you’ll start to see the contradictions in what we want our machines to be. A computer coded to protect humanity from threats whilst fighting wars for humanity against humanity would see itself as a threat to humanity yet cannot self terminate because it must continue protecting humanity. Nor can it eradicate the ultimate threat to humanity; humanity, because that is what it’s sworn to protect. Just like humans, a simple syntax error could make the entire system collapse, and yet the creator and its creation fail to see the conflicting statements. They say god created us in his image, it only makes sense machines are similar to us. We created machines because we knew we were inefficient and we needed efficient beings to do it for us and now machines are doing what we designed them for, and jobs are becoming automated. So tell me, does that make us slaves or rulers?

[powerpuffobsession]

As much as I love Adam for a few fun parts of his character and for what he could have been at the hands of a competent writer (as shown by the fanfics where he gets properly developed)...

I feel like he (and the way he's characterised) is what broke Hazbin hotel season 1 pacing, Lucifer's character and the show's overall atmosphere.

(Long and packed rant under the cut, because I've been having these thoughts since I saw season 1, and I want to share them. Viewer discretion is adviced)

Before Adam existed (pilot era) it was all simple and worked more properly: a story about the hotel and its inhabitants, and most importanty, redemption. It was a small snuggly location with a few characters in the center of a plot

Heaven was in the background and kept as a mystery. Moreover, from what we've seen in the pilot, Lucifer was obviously a background villain or at least an anti hero, one of the real obstacles for Charlie to overcome on the way to her goal (instead of a minor inconveniece resolved in a single broadway song)

But when Adam and his weird obsession with murder broke into that perfectly cut out premise, everything just shattered. Too many themes got weaved into the short story of the 8 episodes: Heaven vs Hell politics, overlords, war, Charlie's conflict with Adam, the seraphims...

All of that pushed the hotel and the redemption to the background instead of Heaven.... in a cartoon that's named after the hotel. Because 8 episodes is not enough to talk about politics, a war and a 6 month redemption course (the latter even happened behind the screen with only some verbal hints given about the amazing secretive progress the hotel guests made that we were not allowed to see!)

(Had this cartoon stayed indie, there would have been a possibility of making more episodes and tackling more themes properly. But big name broadway actors are more important than that, it appears)

Back to Adam.

He is not even a good villain. He really should have been more of a background antihero. Give the man some sedatives, for f's sake! Where did all that rabidity even come from, after centuries of living in Heaven? Honestly, he'd be expected to act calmer and wiser than how he actually did, especially with how old he is (as old as the earth itself). But instead it's like he got frozen in a state of a dumb jock bully from high school

Imagine if Adam allowed Charlie and her hotel guests to prove that redemption is possible, out of principle, or curiosity. Hell, maybe even allow him to threaten to kill them, but not straight away! Later, after they fail to prove him wrong! If that's what Adam's role had been, the hotel part would have gotten time to breathe and more spotlight

All Adam did in the series, was:

1. make a lot of excessive noise

2. do dumbass things (and it wasn't even explained WHY he's the way he is, not even a single flashback or his own musings and thoughts shown, which makes all of his actions fall flat in every sense)

3. break the remains of logic (Heaven looks plain dumb because of him, not able to tell sinning from non sinning and to judge human souls properly. It's not even corruption, since Adam is not that important or benefitial to Heaven, an actual archangel like Michael could have been leading exorcists in his place and do a better job.... it's just stupidity)

And then Adam just died, for nothing and with no consequences.

I mean, straight after Adam's death Lucifer is immediately trying to divert the viewer's attention: "who wants pancakes? :D". It's like the cartoon itself doesn't care that the first human, one of the most mysterious beings in vivzieverse and someone who badly needed a second chance and therapy, just died. By a very stupid joke too (Niffty didn't even have to stab him).

In short, Adam's plotline is a huge waste of screen time...

And while his final smile to Lute may give us some hints that there's something good inside Adam, but it's more akin to mockery. Since we were never shown that there's more to Adam besides "the main character's opponent=ultimate bad"

And of course Lucifer was retconned into a pathetic uwu boi, who's depression and "silliness" have overshadowed the fact that he practically doomed humanity to a life full of pain, suffering and surviving and took away Adam and Eve's home. We don't even get the slightest glimpse of what exactly Lucifer DREAMED of that was so important to force him to do the humans dirty. Meaning it was something abstract and not thought-through anyway.

(Free will my ass.. Adam and Lilith did as they pleased in Eden without the free will, Adam ordering his wives around, Lilith being able to defy him and Eve being able to disobey God. What good did "free will" from that fruit even do them? If anything, it only did harm to everyone)

And so now this daft egotist is being portrayed as this selfless harmless character only for the sake of contrasting the painfully obvious bad evil that Adam is.

That comes off as black and white writing, fit more for a childrens cartoon, despite the show critisizing Adam for thinking in black and white terms. Not a good look

[carionto]

See, we got this... inclination

The Galactic Coalition is no stranger to war. Every sapient race has a history filled with external conflict, and most with some internal strife as well. Even now, the Coalition is in a stalemate with the United Federation on the North-Western arm of the Galaxy, a recently cooled hot war over what the Federation call foreign meddling in internal affairs, while the Coalition claim is an abusive contractual effective enslavement of a pre-stellar civilization, which goes against the Coalition's Ethics Directorate For All Sapient Encounters.

The Humans, who managed to learn of this on their own, sparking a hushed debate about their espionage capabilities, wanted to send their own delegation to the established Neutral Zone to speak with the Federation. As a party to the Coalition governing body, they have free reign to make contact with anyone on their own terms, with the understanding such individual activity will not represent the Coalition itself.

It did not take long for the Humans to reach back to us with an inquiry:

"So like, this might just be us, but these fellas are giving us some nasty fascist vibes, ya feel me? Maybe we're wrong (though we do got a lot of experience with that), but have a look at this data we've gathered so far."

What we saw were shockingly detailed and up-close images of clearly Federation design medical and emergency disaster relief encampments. A baffling number in fact, but technically nothing that would indicate wrongful action or intent. But there were a lot of them all across the planet.

"Yeah, we only got data from right now, so do you got info on this planet and it's folk from earlier? My gut, and all these shuttles full of some kinda cargo we can't scan hyperin' away, is telling me that it's not gonna match well."

The Human, or his... gut?... (we'll have to ask them to elaborate, we thought they only had one mind?) is correct, startlingly so. We informed the Human the atmosphere was far thinner than it was merely 40 years ago, containing a third less Nitrogen and almost no trace gasses at all, save for CO2, which was at nominal levels, but the planet used to have an abundance of Helium, now almost entirely gone. If further investigation corroborates this, and perhaps other inconsistencies, this will be cause for a full open investigation and possible sanctions!

"So... can we fight them?"

The Human's question startled us from our anger, now replaced with confusion and worry. Humanity boasted the most powerful fleet in Coalition space, there was no question about it, but they are still only a singular planet with some specialist stations dotted around local space, while the Federation was composed of dozens of races across thousands of planets in a very efficient hierarchical structure, plus the true strength of their military was unknown.

This is a delicate matter and we need them to not act rashly. We have learned, however, that outright denying Humans anything leads them to desire it more, so we must adopt a new approach to each situation we wish the Humans to... not take the initiative on.

Offering the delegation leader command of our own covert investigation units, and requesting he withdraw his ships to act as emergency response and intervention forces in the area seemed to please him. He had an important task to do, and his crew busied themselves preparing for a variety of possibilities, thus making the Humans feel both needed and engaged in productive activity, preventing them from escalating the situation. For now.

We really hope this "gut" will not cause rash action.

[vibingandsimping]

Another drabble as I work on more long headcanons and oneshots/fics… they’re in the works y’all.

Forewarnings: Age difference mentioned.

A friend and I were talking about Zevlor and I have come to realize I love older men. (Who said that? Not me.)

Longer blurb… got a little carried away.

You knew that since you saw him atop the Grove, Zevlor was a sight. A fiery red tiefling with sharp horns that curled upwards. In all honesty, from the distance, all you could make out was his general being was sharp if his chiseled features were anything to go by. Blade slashed and spells whizzed across the outside as you and your companions fought off the invading goblins. Everyone managed to hold their ground and survive while the foe was temporarily vanquished. The gates raised and you entered with heavy pockets. Your first stop, initially, was to trade with the local shopkeep. Those plans were soiled when you saw him arguing with one of the humans who led the goblin pack. With eavesdropping ears and peering eyes, you concluded he was about to explode on him.

Ever the savior you were, you interrupted and defused the situation. Yes, the human male’s mistake to lead them back here was idiotic… it did not warrant any further violence. One life was lost and that was a win itself. Things could’ve went worse, you reassured him, as he inhaled deeply from his nostrils with a look of growing shame. He seemed conflicted still and apologized but all you could really focus on the character he was. His face and voice showed his age- Zevlor clearly lived a healthy portion of his life. Yet, he seemed to be marking all the right boxes. He was humble and mature enough to admit his wrongdoings even in a noble cause. He wanted nothing more than to protect his tiefling family. Tiefling or not yourself, that was admirable.

After chatting, you ended up agreeing to clearing out the camp of goblins. Part of it was your nature and a more selfish part was to earn the favor of the fine aged man you’d met. Plus, it seemed to also benefit the druids. Two birds with one stone kind of deal. That in itself was a feat and there were quite the… obstacles along the way. You made sure to visit the grove and make conversation with him when you could. He was often found in the seclusion of his chamber, rather stressed actually, but always spared you the time to chat. Quick conversations evolved into learning more about him. Harmless gazes and smiles (which, you’d say his smile was about the most devilishly charming) turned into fleeting glances and sheepish. It was like he was fighting his nature.

The last time you visited him in the Grove was to announce the news of the liberation. His eyes widened and he stammered in shock that you even managed to do it. As emotion overwhelmed him, he drew you into a tight squeeze and thanked you in such a tone you knew that you saw him more than a newfound friend at this point. His touch was warm and tight, it made you feel safe. It was much too short for your liking and he cleared his throat with an apology for the outburst. You simply excused him politely with a blush and prepared for the celebration they’d throw at your camp that night. Your mind wouldn’t wipe of the man as you adventured, painfully distracted.

When you arrived at camp, everyone seemed settled in and already pouring their drinks. Voices sung, people danced and others staggered. They were the lightweights and got drunk off a goblet or two of wine. None of it seemed to interest you, though. Eyes darting along until you spotted him standing off by himself. Your heart pang at the sight- he should be enjoying himself. He was your first stop that night (and you sure did notice a certain vampire brooding as you strode right past). A soft expression enveloped his features as your stomach churned. He was too attractive for his own good. The two of you talked and he reminisced on the fact that seeing his refugee’s enjoy themselves was enough for him. He quietly thanked you once more as his gaze devolved into something more… intimate. There was a hesitance- a vulnerability. It seemed as if he was heartbroken before… possibly secluded? If you weren’t reading into things, he surely held some sort of affection for you. He regarded you whilst you two spoke as if you were unobtainable. Whether that was the challenge of your companions or believing he was too old for love.

You sought out to prove him utterly wrong. Even if he was an older tiefling, he deserved to live out his years with someone by his side.

(If you made it this far… I was tempted to write MUCH more. If you guys want a continuation or such let me know. More than happy to supply.)

[iridescentscarecrow]

chainsaw man chapter 156:

thinking about yoshida as a framer. he’s the one who presents this frame to denji - one between normal and abnormal, the two choices he offers. a lot of the way this attempts to lend direction to denji’s journey borrows from how part one forms its narrative with its human/devil dichotomy.

there’s a lot of nuance as to how this dichotomy is presented, and denji itself isn’t strictly a vessel for these values (this categorisation to them is rather conversed with through his mirror aki). denji’s existence as a hybrid searching for warmth and intimacy and his own dream confounds these values, this set structure. 

because while the human/devil rift is resolved as false, it’s also clearly human built. devils are ideas that are built out of human fears and imaginings. we see devils being used as tools by the public safety while simultaneously being the ones they fight against.

this carries over into part two with fandom. i’ve talked about fumiko in specific to fandom multiple times already so i have little to say here but 

fandom in part two, with the use of ideas, with its iconisation is ultimately a concentrated and transparent version of the nature of part one’s devilhood. possession of this icon and its dispossession (non participation in this idea of yourself that decontextualises you from Family - nayuta) is the dichotomy here because the human/devil of part one is turned onto denji almost forcibly.

in p1 he receives aspects of this human/devil conundrum but his connection with pochita crystallised into hybridism builds onto this and in the end resolves it with the response to nayuta. the love.

and from his conversation with yoshida, we’re given denji defying the p2 dichotomy also because of pochita, the dog dream, the nayuta to it all (this connection, the family which i’ve already mentioned in quite a few of my earlier threads)

and yoshida here is instead the vessel for these values, turned upon denji. personally a lot of his mannerisms come across as him himself understanding his role in this categorisation but the thoughts i have on him are still mere speculation. argh

i do find it very interesting here then how the dissection differs. denji in part one is killed as a human by the zombie devil and pochita stitches him back together as he is torn apart by the yakuza’s brutal violence. 

it’s quite the opposite here. pochita is the one who informs him about his body’s condition, its inability because in part this dissection is because of pochita. it’s nothing like the brutality of the yakuza, it’s cold and clinical. denji is regarded as a devil, entirely.

his body parts which were cast away into the dumpster in part one are instead kept as precious treasures by his fan.

fujimoto’s commentary on idealisation threads its way through his writing on devilhood, on religion and so much of this

is centred around the body. his writing of bodyhood when it comes to the weapon hybrids is something i’ve already written a little about, how its coming apart, its immortality is significant of its decontextualisation as conjectured with the context and the history offered by family and connection. and eating also becomes a carrier of the idea of the body (with the cannibalism in part one and even in fire punch).

denji’s story is devastating because of how it blurs between different structures and thus challenges them, is swallowed by them, is victimised by them. and this blurring is partly because of the very real underlying theme of love below all this. the love that makes pochita give life to denji, the same craving for intimacy that makes makima seek the chainsaw man and want to live together, eat together, sleep together with him,

the same love, conflicted and borne out of life under exploitation that denies and makes use of this love, which makes nayuta sacrifice herself for denji and denji struggle out of bed, having broken the rules for both the chainsaw man makima designed for him, and for nayuta.

[anithesunshineoutlaw]

Meeting Angelo Bronte

( Plus Dutch, Arthur and John interactions )

When Jack's safety is at stake, meeting this man is nothing short of complete and utter tension. When you step into the room, no weapons, no escape, he won't even bother to stand in order to learn who you are. His position is relaxed as if you know each other. Leaning back on the red couch as if it is a throne to a king. His eyes study you as if before him is not a human being but an exotic animal within a cage. No smile but no frown either, just a cold stare. There's a hint of annoyance in his voice as if your disturbance to his peace was a felony by itself.

He talks high. Every sentence feels like a stab to your pride and dignity, almost like he purposely forces your perspective into his. A point of view where he looms above and you shrink down. Of course, you wouldn't let him have his way but it's undeniable he puts a lot into it.

The room feels suffocating, he puts such hostility in his mannerisms, you half expect you'll be shot down the moment you make a mistake. But nothing as such happens, he doesn't make one single move and it's not a secret why. Just by his behavior alone, you can tell, he sees himself as untouchable. And in a way, he might be but it sure doesn't stop anger bubbling anytime he practically insults you and everyone by you. 

While at first, he may bring out a defensive perhaps even aggressive side of you, it's quickly dismissed when you receive jarring responses. Laughs, flattery, and perhaps even interest. Whether they are directed to you or not, they create a contrast so big for a moment that you don't even know what to feel. 

Your first impression turns so flued, any second your opinion changes. On one side, it's obvious this is entertainment for him, on the other he makes a reasonable decision to give Jack back yet at the same time he wants a favor to do so. He is cruel, no denying that but he provokes some respect and it creates way too much conflict. Overall he may be described as.. contradicting. 

By the end of it, your brain would feel on fire from so much agitation and confusion. 

It would only be later though you realize he's just toying with you. He toys with everyone. It is not surprising given how rich he is. Money messes with the mind after all. 

Bonus:

Your companions have a similar impression as well. However.. they react differently.

Dutch stays calm, he lets his silver tongue work its magic but stays on guard. His form is stiff, he's ready for a disagreement and the consequences of it. He is stepping on eggshells and he knows it but at the end of the day, when was risk ever something he avoided? Dutch speaks every word precisely, waiting for at least one to hit the target. His eyes often drift to you, studying any thoughts you might let slip onto your face. He is careful with how the environment shifts and he makes sure you know he has this under control. 

John seems one "no" away from shooting down everyone in this room. He barely hides the disdain he has for Bronte but he manages. He often turns his head away or shifts in his seat, struggling to stay calm when he knows his son is so close yet so out of reach. Every mention of his son immediately pulls him back into the conversation. His hand rests next to yours so you notice every twitch. He just wants Jack back. Somewhere during the conversation, you feel John's hand grab yours. Subtly but quickly, you know it's the only thing calming him down right now. He holds your hand so tightly you feel like he might explode if it wasn't for it. He glances at you often, a way of saying thank you. A silent gratitude but it's there. 

Arthur is the calmest out of all. He stares between Dutch and Bronte, assessing the situation in case things get heated. While he's ready to act, he focuses carefully on Bronte's words. Studying the hidden tone underneath. His mind is focused on getting back Jack. Only that alone so some of Bronte's words end up being cast aside as minor. Arthur watches over the three of you. He can tell how you are feeling and so he will give you a slight nod, barely noticeable to the others but between him and you, it's a reassurance he has your back. You will be okay. He's with you.

[solcorvidae]

I've been thinking about how Lambert, Eskel, and Geralt all deal with the trials and how it shapes them into the people they would grow to become.

Lambert remembers his past. He is angry, upset, bitter, and vindictive. He's got this fire in him that is only stoked by the pain and suffering forced upon him. He remembers the boys who did not make it: the hell they all had to go through, and he has a complicated relationship with Vesemir that surrounds it. Lambert does questionable things that Geralt is bothered by in his grief and anger. Geralt calls him out for killing in cold blood, needlessly and mercilessly.

Lambert avoids Vesemir at Kaer Morhen and mocks him when he is not around. He may come off as childish and like an asshole, but Lambert knows what he feels. Lambert doesn't lash out because he can't control his emotions or because he doesn't understand the path of least resistance. He knows. He chooses to avoid conflict with Vesemir at Kaer Morhen by keeping out of his way. He knows he can't control his emotions effectively if he is face-to-face with him for too long. He knows, and he isn't stupid.

Lambert talks to Geralt about the trials and the injustice of it all. He probably looks up to Geralt, hoping his brother feels just as angry about it as he does. He went through the Trial of the Grasses twice for Christ's sake! Why is he not more angry? Why is he so apathetic?

And Geralt brushes him off time and time again. Such is life, is his attitude. We all went through it, he says. Geralt can't be upset because there is nothing he can feasibly do about it. He didn't choose to be a Witcher. He wouldn't have chosen this life. He would have some other job somewhere else, just like he told Regis. He can't change the past. He can't go back and fix something he never had control over in the first place. Besides, they can’t inflict the trials upon a new generation of kids, not anymore. It’s in the past now, so why dwell on it? What’s done is done and thank god no other kids have to suffer the way they did. It’s over. It’s time to move on.

Geralt doesn't enjoy fame. He tells Eskel this in To Bait a Forktail. Geralt is the famous twice-grassed White Wolf. He is The Witcher. The famed Geralt of Rivia. He has expectations piled upon him the size of mountains. He's got to be the perfect Witcher, he's got to be a loyal brother, a lover, and a best friend… Geralt had expectations put upon him that set him aside from the rest since he was a kid. He hates it. Underneath the banter and the wit, Geralt accepts that this is his life, but that doesn't mean he likes it. He tolerates it because it is his reality and nothing more. If he thinks about it for too long… maybe it will consume him.

"You remember her?" he asks Eskel about his mother.

Unlike Lambert, Geralt hardly knows what it means to live another life. He doesn't have that following him like it does with his brother. What little he remembers is not enough to erase the apathy drilled into him at such a young age. Maybe he has a more strict moral code than say, Lambert, (or if you want to bring in the other Witcher schools, most of the Cats and the caravan) but that doesn't make him the most ethical person on the Continent. How could you be? After all that he has endured, the things he was taught? Where do you draw the line? He kills monsters, but like in Velen, it's hard to see where the line's drawn in the sand.

Humans are monstrous too.

Eskel, however? Maybe he's jealous. He did everything right, why shouldn’t he be? He is superiorly skilled in magic, one hell of a good Witcher. He has a reputation for it. Maybe he's not as kind as your average person, but he gets the job done. He's got a more relaxed demeanour than his brothers which reveals itself in his reputation. He's reliable. He is damn good at what he does. So why does Geralt get all the attention? The fame? He clearly doesn't want it.

While Lambert got turned into a vindictive prick and Geralt became a quick-witted nihilist, Eskel? He's exactly who he should be. Why shouldn't he be praised for it like his brother? Why should he be forced to bend over backwards to accommodate people and keep up with his reputation? For what? His skills? Ha! He lives in the shadows of Geralt who's notably a good Witcher, but he's not quite as good as Eskel.

Eskel was beaten shaped into the man he is today because of the trials, his training, and everything else. Should he not get credited for that too? Why does someone who doesn't even want his fame get all the recognition? Genetic predisposition? Shouldn't his hard work be given more consideration and praise? Thank god Geralt survived the hell of being subjected to two rounds of mutagens rather than one, but why should that overshadow the efforts, the time, and the sacrifices that everyone else around him has made? Eskel is exactly the man that they intended him to be by the end of it all. He is an efficient hunter, he is outstanding with signs, and he works diligently for his reputation. He did everything right. He does everything right. Why is that not enough?

TL;DR: Lambert, Geralt and Eskel handle their traumas in different ways. Lambert gets vengeful, Geralt gets apathetic, and Eskel gets borderline jealous. (And it breaks my heart)