#the other half of the issue is post-middle school despite most of my stuff being relatively cheap

[bytebun]

i have so much… stuff that i dont need but am loathe to part with (even though someone else would probably get more use out of them). part of the issue, im realizing, is that so many of my memories are “locked in” with these things and releasing them would essentially mean consigning that memory to be forgotten. they arent particularly valuable memories so its not even sentimental value, just that without a tangible physical reminder i will lose that flash of being 12 and walking home, and with my terrible biological memory i dont have a lot of those. but this is possibly one of the most inefficient ways to store them. but i dont have the energy to re-encode them as journal entries or something so… back they go into the basement storage

[majachee]

GOOD EVENING ! I don't know anything about your OCs but I am willing and eager to learn. May I get a quick introduction to them ? :D And also if they're part of a or several stories I'd love to hear about them hohoohoho

OMG OMG YESSSSS!!!!!

Basic concept: A majority of them are all based on mythology, the pantheons all co-exist and have varying degrees of interaction. The concept of fate and pre-determined destiny has a chokehold on their godly society(s), for better or for worse depending on your ranking. When apocalyptic-level anomalies that defy established destiny start happening worldwide; some dive deep into blind, destructive panic while others see it as an opportunity for their own personal, often selfish, agendas. >:))

Mythology is my special interest, okay LES GOOOO MORE DETAILED ELABOROATION HEHEHE

Main character is based on Sun WuKong... his name is Sun WuKong. He's younger than his literary counterpart and meant to be more of a young adult with murderous instincts natural curiousity about the world around him while still being incredibly knowledgable about his own background, easier for the readers to learn more about the world and story naturally through an equally curious character!

He finds himself joining a small group of gods and past heroes (near the end of his Journey) who explore the aforementioned anomalies in order to learn more about them, and hopefully recruit more members in order to come to a solution. Despite the apparently positive and earnest intention, some members seem to have their own ulterior motives that might be... less than beneficial.

WuKong is loud, impulsive, naturally curious, intelligent, and has a very extreme way of thinking regarding morality and ethics. Both good and bad.

My character based on the Six-Eared Macaque is, much like his original counterpart, meant to work as a foil for WuKong in the beginning chapters. He is WuKong's age (supernatural equivalent of 18-20 years old) and had a much more harsher, stricter upbringing in comparison. He is someone who is incredibly insecure and projects those perceived flaws of his onto others, which is what lead to him hunting down and fighting WuKong before being struck down. Doesn't help that he only knew the other monkey via rumors.

Macaque is often manipulated by older gods and finds himself being coerced into a group that exploits the anomalies and the exposed loopholes of fate and prophecy for their own, very specific agenda; Vengeance. The members of this small yet loud group felt mistreated and likewise exploited by the gods on top, and now see these events as an opportunity to strike. As time goes one the leaders of this group (Loki, Boreas, and Ate) use more extreme methods to keep their members in check, as most of them have been emotionally manipulated into joining.

These two groups clash for the entire story, but it's subtle before they directly meet in Midgard and the land(s) of the Æsir.

Some examples of these anomalies include; Ra disappearing mid-day, Fimbulwinter sweeping over Scandinavia while Baldr is alive and well, unrest in the collective underworlds and a great plague coming from the Mediterranean.

There's more info in my oc tag and lore post tag, but half of it is outdated (mainly world building + story, character related stuff is p much the same.) BUT YEAH !! That's the basis of my main oc story + my silly monkey boys with Issues(tm)

I've been working on these characters since early middle school, help.

[absolutelyfizzing]

angels and demons

warren worthington x reader fluff

@shuckfaced-fangirl Hi! can I request a warren worthington x female mutant reader where her powers are shadow summoning? So I guess everyone in the school kind of views her as some sort of demon? With a lot of fluff? Thank you!!

Description - Y/N is a shadow summoner and is isolated from her peers. Warren helps her see that not everyone fears her and that she is worthy of affection.

warnings - its so fluffy. fem pronouns. some angsty stuff (isolation, depression, sadness), one innuendo, devastating fluff, warren being an angel. i tried to make it POC inclusive, please let me know if it feels restricting or excluding and i will edit it.

word count - 3700, i got carried away

A/N - im so sorry this took so long, i took a break from writing while i am working on moving to college. i will still be spotty for the next few weeks but hopefully, i will post a few more things in that time and then get back on a normal schedule. also, thanks so much for this request, i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope it is something you enjoy reading!

MASTERLIST

You walked through the halls with a lowered head. You knew that you made others uncomfortable and so you chose to try to make yourself as small and unthreatening as possible. You had been 'gifted' powers with which you could manipulate and create darkness. You were a shadow summoner. That wasn't a name that many found reassuring or comforting.

There were a few who could see past it and who was close to being what you might call friends but those people were few and far between. There were overwhelmingly more people who believed that you must have been a scary and mean person, that you were some sort of demon. This couldn't have been further from the truth if one were to look past appearances. Your shadow was larger and darker than that of your peers and it trailed behind you with a mind of its own, moving and growing without you even meaning for it to happen. Your hands were constantly covered in something darker and dustier than the rest of your skin, a deep and pure black. It trailed from the tips of your fingers and faded on your forearm so it looked as though you had just dipped your arms into a chimney or that shadows were crawling up your arms.

When you first got them, you thought they were sort of cool. They made you look sort of goth and that was fun. That feeling quickly faded when you saw how others, even your family, reacted. They said it was a curse from hell. You were barely convinced otherwise.

You sat away from others at the school during free periods. During lunch you sat alone and in the sun when you could, you hoped it might make others be less scared of you as it might make you look brighter but your shadow, dark and ominous, maintained a spot near you. You wore clothes that made you look more approachable to try to maintain that you weren't scary. Your brightly colored outfit didn't ever seem to work though, no matter how hard you tried.

You looked down at the food in your hands, the sandwich only half-eaten, and you noted your hands. They were so normal looking, your nails were well kept and you thought they were a good size. That they might even be a good size for someone to hold. The only thing was the unnaturally colored dust that seemed to cover them. It was a cool black, it glistened and sparkled in the sun when your fingers moved. It never moved or transferred to anything else, always stuck securely to your skin. You were distracted by the way your fingers seemed to shine when a shadow came near yours, wings outlined in it. You looked up to see a tall blond boy above you with curly hair and bags under his eyes. He nodded to a spot on the grass near you.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

You shook your head and even scooted away from the spot to give him more space despite the fact that you were in a large field.

"Do you want me to move?" You asked gently, wondering if maybe he wanted this particular spot and you took it from him unknowingly.

"I mean, I think that would sort of take away the whole point of me trying to sit with you." He smirked and you felt blood rush to your cheeks. "I like your hands" He hummed and you looked at him in shock. When his eyes met yours you tilted your head a bit.

"They don't bother you?" You tried to speak softly.

"No, I think they're awesome. They make you look punk." He smiled and you felt the corners of your mouth tug up a bit too.

"I like your wings." You almost mumbled as you allowed your gaze to move to the large feathery wings behind him. They moved in the wind and you found yourself wanting to run your fingers through them. "They make you look like an angel." You smiled and he groaned dramatically.

"I'm trying to look grunge." He pouted and you giggled a bit. At the sound, he looked up at you and blushed a bit. "Maybe we should trade."

"If I could trade you I would. Everyone is scared of how I look." You gazed back at the grass.

"I'm not." His simple statement made butterflies erupt in your stomach and you smiled a bit. You looked back at him and made eye contact for a moment.

"What's your name?" You asked and he maintained his gaze into your eyes. It was the most contact or conversation with someone else you'd had in a long time.

"I'm Warren." He smiled a bit and stuck a hand out to you to shake. You looked at his hand in shock. Nobody ever voluntarily touched your hands. Most of them worried that whatever was on them would spread. You hesitantly brought your hand to his, purposefully giving him plenty of time to remove his hand if he felt uncomfortable. But he didn't. Instead, your hand reached his and he shook it before letting go as if it was no big deal.

"I'm Y/N." You smiled a bit more and you felt a giggle come out of you from the joy of realizing this wasn't a dream, that someone was trying to talk to you and they weren't afraid.

"Is my name that funny?" He teased.

"No, I just-" you paused to think, "it's been so long since anyone has done this with me."

"Talked to you?" He questioned, obviously expecting you to say no and explain what you meant. Instead, you just nodded and his heart clenched for a moment. "Well, you can stick with me then."

"I don't know if you want your reputation to take a hit like that."

"My reputation is 'the angry and damaged kid', I'm sure it can handle the breaking news of me talking to a nice and pretty girl." He reassured before he even realized what he was saying. You could have cried at the feeling that rose up in your chest.

After that day, you stuck to his side like glue and he took no issue with it. The more you got to know him the more you appreciated the fact that he had taken you in. With his help, over the coming months, he helped you develop a stable friend group. That group included people like Ororo and Jane who had heard rumors about you and never bothered to check and see if they were real. They apologized profusely, especially Jean as she felt like she could have easily found out that you were kinder than she thought with her abilities but just had never done so, and you gladly accepted, just happy to be within a group.

You and Warren had developed a reputation. He was overly protective and gruff while you were overly nice and empathetic. You balanced each other well and if you were honest, you were in love with him. That always felt weird to say, you'd never been in love with anyone before but every second you spent with him made you more and more sure of your feelings.  

When you and Warren were together, you would daydream about what it would be like to be in a relationship with him. Being held by him and wrapped in his wings. Getting to play with his unkempt hair. Holding his hand.

Sometimes he would try to encourage you to hold his hand. He would hold it out to you when he was helping you jump down from somewhere high. He would ask you to hand him things and then make decisive contact as he took it from you. He knew that it meant a lot to you, you practically gasped and blushed every time he did it. He had never met anyone so touch starved. He wanted to give you all the affection that you craved.

Unfortunately, Warren was rather oblivious, especially towards things like feelings and emotions. He had no clue that you had any interest in him, even though he hoped you did every day. If he wasn't so attached to your friendship, he might ask you out. Instead, he tried to maintain a friendly distance so he didn't cross any lines while also being as affectionate with you as he could be. You followed a similar path.

The person caught in the middle of this was poor Jean Gray. she had watched you pine over each other since you met and had heard every thought that went through both of your heads. She knew you would never complain or ask for help about anything so she liked to keep tabs on your thoughts every once in a while to make sure you were okay. Still, she tried her best to not listen very often or when you were thinking about anything very personal, she honestly did. But she was a romantic. All she wanted was for you two idiots to get together but you were both oblivious. She decided, probably 3 months into you becoming friends, that she had to do something about it.

She was sitting on your bed while you sat across your bedroom on your small couch. She fiddled with her thumbs while she tried to ignore your constant thoughts about Warren, his hands, his wings, his smile. She was exhausted. she took a small breath while she planned how she would try to say this to you.

"Do you want to know what I heard today?" She called and you looked up at her from the book you were pretending to read.

"Do you mean heard or 'heard'?" You laughed and she rolled her eyes.

"Either." Then she tilted her head. "Both."

"Yeah, I wanna know! What's it about?" You asked while leaning forward in your seat. Jean always had the best gossip to tell because she could literally hear it.

"Warren." She stated simply and watched your reaction. You flushed and stopped breathing for a moment.

"Wha-" you stuttered, "what about him?"

"That he has a thing for you." she winked and you flushed even more.

"You're lying." You assured, a questioning look on your face.

"I'm not and I'm tired of watching you two longing after one another while the rest of the school watches." She smiled and your heart picked up.

"I thought I told you not to look in my head!" You scolded but you weren't actually all that upset. You knew that it was very hard for her to control.

"I cant help it! Both of you think so loud. And I wouldn't have to anyway, Ororo mentioned it to me the other day and she definitely cants read minds." She giggled and you smiled a bit.

"Does he actually like me?" You almost whispered in disbelief.

"Yes! He's been obsessed with you since you started talking."

"But like he would want to actually go-"

"Y/N, I swear to god. If you don't go and talk to him right now I'm going to have a fit." She laughed and you glared at her.

"Okay okay fine, I'm going," you grumbled as you stood and walked toward your door. "If you are wrong I'm gonna be so upset with you."

She just laughed again and you started to walk down the hallway. You thought he might be in his room or outside. You decided to check his room first.

You knocked on his door but you were met with silence. You tried the handle and it moved.

"Warren?" you paused, "I'm coming in," you warned and pushed the door open. When you looked inside, he wasn't there. You took a moment to gaze around his room, it wasn't the first time you had been in there but every time was a bit exciting as you got to see all of the things he had that represented him. He had a boombox and a CD collection on his dresser. Some of his clothes were thrown around his room haphazardly and some of his drawers were open. You looked at the wall next to you where he kept photos that you took. You would carry around a camera or take pictures on your phone of everyone around campus. He always asked for them and then printed them out so he could hang them up. He had even managed to get a couple of you. You smiled a bit before heading back into the hallway, closing the door behind you.

You instead moved towards the door to get out onto the lawn where you thought he would probably be. He often sat under the big oak trees or on the roof if he wanted to get away from people. When you made it outside, you looked around for him.

"Y/N!" you heard him shout. You turned to look for him and saw his silhouette flying from the roof. You paused to admire him and his wings. He always looked so angelic to you. So powerful. You thought about how your power emanated darkness. That you would never appear angelic to someone and would more likely look like a demon. You looked down at your hands for a second, a habit you had when you were thinking about your powers. They sparkled a bit in the sun but it did little to quell the distaste in your mouth.

Suddenly there was a shadow in front of you that was not part of the darkness that surrounded you.

"Y/N?" he asked gently. "Are you okay?" he tried not to startle you. Being empathetic wasn't something that came naturally to him, but he tried extra hard around you. he noticed the way you were staring at your hands. The growth of your shadow as you thought about your powers more. He moved to touch one of your hands but you flinched back a bit. He brought his hand back and looked at you with concern. "Whats wrong, angel?" He asked lightly and you looked up at the pet name. He had started calling you that soon after you became friends. You thought it was out of irony but he really was convinced that you were some sort of angel. He also loved the way that your eyes would light up when he said it. You stared at him for a moment in silence.

"Do I scare you?" You asked quietly and your voice shook. He looked surprised by your question and you were surprised too. You didn't know why you were suddenly getting emotional. Why this was now all you could think about. Why it had to come up now when you were trying to express your feelings for him. Instead of responding he reached out to your hand, holding onto it when you let him, despite flinching away slightly. He started to walk, leading you toward the same tree you had met under. Once you both reached it he sat down and looked up at you, waiting for you to sit down too. You did, maybe a bit farther away from him than you needed to be.

"Do you think you scare me?" he asked genuinely and you took a second to think, looking back down at your hands which were now pulled back into your lap.

"I scare me," you stated simply and paused.

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't know." You mumbled. "I think I freak everyone out. Including you I guess." Your voice was quieter than you meant it to be. you really hadn't thought about it in a little while. It had been on your mind plenty when you first started talking to him. You were extra conscious of not pushing him to be around you or near your shadow. You knew that he would move away if he needed to but you also had so many memories of everyone around you fearing you, running from you, telling you that you were a curse. Instead of responding he held his hand out in between the two of you, palm up. You knew that he was inviting you to take it but that he wouldn't push you to. Instead of taking it, you placed your hand near his on the ground and he left his next to yours, not trying to take it if you didn't want him to.

"You don't." He let out, sounding sure of himself and slightly pained. "You don't scare me." You looked at each other. He had tears in his eyes. He was never one to get emotional so you were surprised. "Do I scare you?" he questioned, already knowing your answer but trying to prove a point.

"Of course not." You sighed.

"You have a lot more reason to be afraid of me than I have to be afraid of you." he looked at your hand again. "I'm the one who has a rough history, I'm the one who is angry and has a reputation of being aggressive."

"But, Warren, your mutation is-"

"Mutation has nothing to do with it, Y/N." he sighed. "You have control over your abilities, I have control over mine. The only difference between us is our personalities and I have never had any reason to fear you or dislike you. You're the kindest person I know and everyone in your life who has let you think that there was something wrong with you was terrible. And that was on them."

Your hand reached for his and you laced your fingers together. He squeezed your hand and ran his thumb over the back of it.

"I love you." The words came out of your mouth faster than you could think and you sucked in a breath, almost hoping he didn't hear you. When you glanced up at him he had a gentle smile on his face. He brought the back of your hand up to his face and kissed it before placing it against his cheek.

"I love you too, Y/N" He reached out for your waist and pulled you toward his lap, giving you plenty of time to give him a sign that you were uncomfortable. Instead, you put your leg over his waist so you were straddling his thighs. You held one of his hands in between you and fiddled with his fingers, admiring how your hands contrasted with his. Somehow, him holding your hand made it seem less out of place. You almost felt pride.

You were suddenly surrounded by warmth and shadow, the sounds of the quad around you becoming muted. You looked up around you and his wings were wrapped around the two of you, closing you off into your own little world. You felt the urge to reach out to them but you had never asked. You had never seen him let anyone touch them and you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"Go ahead." your eyes snapped to his in shock.

"Warren, you never let any-"

"I want you to," he admitted and it was true. He had thought many times about asking you to run your fingers through his wings. He would never complain about it but they were a little high maintenance and also sensitive. He never let anyone touch them because most people weren't gentle or he didn't trust them. He knew though that you were the gentlest person on Earth and that he could count on you to be careful.

At his reassurance, you smiled a bit. You reached a hand out to the part of his wing next to his shoulder. You both gasped a bit when your fingers made contact. Warren was a bit surprised at how sensitive they were to your touch and it had been a long time since anyone but himself had touched them. You were entranced by how soft they were. The feathers were delicate and there were so many. You were very careful in how you moved your hand along his wing, looking at him often to see if he was uncomfortable. As you were carding your fingers through his feathers, one came out. You gasped slightly horrified that you had hurt him.

"Hey, it's okay!" he rushed out as he saw your panic. "They just sort of... shed sometimes." He almost seemed embarrassed. Feathers would come off occasionally and he would often have to brush through them himself to release all of the loose feathers, sort of like brushing your hair. He reached to pick up the feather and held it in front of you for you to take. You gladly did and you twirled it in your fingers. "Maybe sometime, if you wouldn't mind, of course, you could help me brush through them?" he asked quietly and you smiled.

"Yeah of course. They seem like they might be a lot of work." you were touched that he trusted you to do that and you thought about how hard it must be to take care of them by himself when they were so big and most of his wings were behind him.

"You should see what it's like to shower with them," he grumbled and then his eyes widened at what he had said. He hadn't meant it to be an innuendo but now he was worried he offended you. Instead, he looked into your eyes and you fell into a fit of giggles.

"I might have to take you up on that offer." Your gentle gaze made him blush. He had never felt this comfortable with anyone. This safe. He decided right then that he would do anything you ever asked of him.

After that day, you and Warren became the cutest couple at the school. You were opposites in multiple ways and your relationship was more wholesome than any of your friends could handle. You got more confident in yourself and your abilities and he allowed himself to be more vulnerable. everyone agreed that you were a match made in heaven.

[misplacedgamer]

Tsuyu Can (Not) Be Trusted: A UA Traitor Theory

So when BnHA 320 dropped a couple days ago, @redblossxmm wrote a very interesting meta post that immediately grabbed my attention. In it, she goes over the chapter cover and the possible symbolism that might be at play. At first when I read it I was like "oh, that's kind of funny, wouldn't it be wild if Tsu was the UA traitor all along". But then I got to talking it over with @rikusoma on Discord and...yeah guys, Tsu might actually be the traitor.

I would just like to say before we get started that all of this is conjecture and based on a lot of admittedly circumstantial evidence. There has not been a lot of heavy handed evidence one way or the other on who the traitor even is (and if we’re being 100% honest, my primary traitor suspect isn’t even a student), but there’s still some fun stuff we can look at that could at least be considered setup against Tsu if that trigger gets pulled.

First off, I want to talk about how weirdly...in focus Tsu has been, especially in the early arcs. So far Horikoshi has only written two bonus chapters for MHA: a 5 page omake included in the character guide that highlights Bakugo's feelings after the 1st semester final exams, and a chapter completely about Tsuyu, her family, and the only friend she had growing up in middle school. Unlike the other bonus chapter though, this one was actually included in Shonen Jump with one of the chapters, and it later reappears in Volume 10.

What’s weird about this is that we ONLY see her family in this little bonus chapter. We actually do get to see a lot of the other families of class 1-A, but we DON’T see Tsu’s family. Horikoshi could have given us Tsu’s backstory and family organically in the story (or in a one page omake, he’s done a few of those, mostly notably in the chapter right before DvK2), but no, she gets a whole short chapter all to herself.

Tsu also gets a whole anime episode to herself (the first filler episode as well) in the vs Stain arc in season 2. What’s weird is that the episode opens with checking in on the other students and seeing how their internships are going, so that momentum could have been continued if they needed to fill time, but instead the entire back half is all Tsu. This should have some payoff later on, or it will have just been wasted narrative space (although since its filler, it could be argued that its empty space being wasted anyway, so it’s not as big a deal).

Now let’s get into some specific things I noticed that we can chalk up to “there are no coincidences”. First, Tsu getting dumped into the water during the USJ attack. Deku attributes this up to the LoV not knowing their power sets, but honestly Tsu is the only one who comes out on top here, compared to the other kids. Deku himself is stuck on a boat, so there’s not a lot of room for him to get going and fight, Bakugo gets blown into the ruins so there’s not a lot of room for him to do things without accidentally blowing himself up, Ojiro is surrounded by fire so he’s also going to have maneuverability issues, Tokoyami’s in the dark so Dark Shadow can’t be used effectively, etc. The low level thugs probably did not know the students' quirks because of how they reacted to Mineta’s goo balls, but if the traitor is a student and told the LoV about the class, then Kurogiri would definitely know. This would be a good opportunity to convince the rest of the class that Tsu was on their side, especially if she was able to be in her element and work as a team player.

Tsu also spends this arc adamantly trying to convince her classmates to call her “Tsu” instead of Asui, a cutesy diminutive of her full first name (like Deku using “Kacchan” for Bakugo, a shortening of Katsuki-chan). It’s interesting that she’s trying to get the boys to call her this too. While it’s fairly common for high school girls to give each other cute names, asking male classmates to also do it is honestly a little bit weird. She also calls everyone “-chan” throughout the story, which is interesting considering she’s once again lumping in the boys and the girls. You could interpret this as her trying to force a connection with the class, trying to be cute to create an air of friendship and intimacy quickly, along with getting them to drop their guard.

Next, let’s look at the Bakugo kidnapping arc. Tsu is not the only person who thinks it's a bad idea to go, but she is the one that most vehemently opposes it, comparing the mission to acting like a villain because you’re working outside of the rules. This is an extremely harsh thing to say, especially to Deku, who just broke both of his arms saving Kota and STILL pushed himself to try and rescue Bakugo and Tokoyami from Mr Compress. Seems to me like she’s very desperate to keep Deku and the rest home, enough to go for the freaking jugular like that. I could also bring up Tsuyu keeping Bakugo away from Deku in chapter 303 (because I’m convinced that if Bakugo had been able to talk to Deku he wouldn’t have run away), but the whole class was on board for that so whatever.

And now let’s get to the big one: Tsu has had two different near misses with the LoV so far. Shigaraki almost grabbed her face during the USJ attack, but it took just long enough that Aizawa was able to save her. Later on, during the Camp Training arc, Toga has her pinned to a freaking tree, but she talks JUST ENOUGH for Ochako to get the drop on her. As a counterpoint, Toga does NOT hesitate at all while trying to go for Ochako’s blood, immediately sticking her and grabbing some before making her retreat. Both times Tsu was put in enough plausible danger to make it seem like she was being threatened, but she wasn’t actually harmed in a significant way.

There are a couple other things we could point to (like how she’s on the cover for chapter 320, along with how weird it is that the chapter just randomly ends on her face, when a more dramatic ending would have probably been when Todoroki encased Deku in the wall of ice), but I think we’ve covered most of everything. To summarize: Tsuyu gets a lot of narrative space given to her despite not really being a relevant character. She is often getting put into danger without actually getting hurt, and Horikoshi has put a lot of effort into making her seem like a gungho team player that will do anything for her friends. Having Tsu be the traitor would make a lot of seemingly unconnected things make a lot more sense, and I think it would be a really good gut punch to have that rug pulled out from under us by her.

Now of course, we have the shakiest part of this theory: what would be Tsu’s motive? Well what little we know about her family is that her parents are often working and therefore she’s responsible for taking care of her younger siblings. It’s possible that she somehow got into some kind of vigilante/mercenary work in the underground in order to support her family. That would go a long way in explaining why she’s always so level headed under pressure (a lot like Bakugo, who also has a lot of experience in fighting, since he used to both bully and get bullied). Alternatively, AFO or the LoV has her family somehow, and she’s being coerced into it. Either way, I definitely think her family would be her motive here.

So in short, Tsuyu is 100% the traitor and clearly this is undeniable. Thank you to Blossxm for making my brain start turning, and thank you Riku for being my springboard the past couple days while I rambled about this ridiculous idea. More meta/theories are incoming, so if you enjoyed my shit post, please stick around and ramble with me about how crazy the last few chapters have been!

[monsterywriting]

Zhulgan (orc) - Prologue

next part | masterlist

AN: Thank you to those who left the kind comments on my update post :) i know i said i’d post this yesterday but reading it again i wanted to fix up some stuff and ended up pretty much completely rewriting it... i hope you all enjoy the story.

word count: 7.4k

f!orc x f!reader

When the notice of war finally reached your village, half a year had already passed since the document had been signed and issued by the king. A town meeting was called and went throughout the night. The village leaders had been nervous to hear the news, not knowing if the fighting had yet to even begin or if it was already on your doorstep. It was eventually reasoned that because no soldiers had been seen in your village nor others nearby, there was no reason to panic just yet.

It wasn’t long after that a foreign platoon swept through the village of Ozryn, pillaging the grain stores and burning down every home and storefront for good measure. No one had been prepared, all the residents sleeping soundly when the attack began.

Most of the village was wiped out, people you’d known your entire life gone in a single terror-filled night. You were among the few survivors led out of Ozryn at dawn in chains, all of you still wearing your nightclothes and most barefoot. Only a fraction of the population were spared and it was immediately noticeable that they had purposefully kept the young women alive, making their motivation for taking you all prisoner all the easier to deduce.

Still, you refrained from sharing your grim observation as some in your pitiable party wept their prayers thanking the Maker for their miraculous survival. You simply didn’t have the heart to crush their hopes so soon—not when you were still trying to come up with a concrete plan for your escape

Unfortunately, the longer the group walked, the more you worried about nightfall. You no longer recognized the land and had lost track of how far from Ozryn you were, unable to concentrate on anything besides putting one foot in front of the other once the adrenaline drained out of you.

The sun was above your head when Mauve, the blacksmith’s daughter, slowed until she closed the distance between you, the chain that connected the two of you dragging along the ground. After a few moments of tense silence to see if any of the soldiers had noticed, she whispered.

“I know where we are.”

You froze in your tracks, playing off your shock as though you merely stumbled in the mud in case any of the guards actually were watching the interaction. You took in the surrounding country, willing the endless hills and marshes to suddenly become familiar to you. It still looked like a bunch of muddy grass when Mauve continued.

“We’ll come up on another village in a day or two. Tasca, halfway to Vircia.”

The names were familiar. Tasca was to the northwest of Ozryn, Vircia straight north. It made sense Mauve would have a pretty good grasp of the land, often leaving the village with her father to make deliveries. Despite the information making your planning a bit easier, your heart still sank. Another village meant another night of death, possibly more prisoners. From Mauve’s grim expression, she had come to the same conclusion.

“Keep it to yourself for now; they can’t know we’re talking,” you finally whispered back, both of you moving back apart.

It took all your willpower not to run your hands down your face in frustration, instead directing your energy to include more people in your revised escape plan.

At some point in the afternoon, the group stopped, word traveling down the procession to set up camp. You were all left to sit around, still chained together and several soldiers guarding your group. While the others all but collapsed where they stood, you forced yourself to remain on your feet, trying to get a head count of everyone who was still alive.

While you recognized all the faces, you knew only a few by first name. Winnie, the baker’s daughter, was closest to you, the only one chained behind you. Her face was relaxed as she was already asleep. Mauve looked similarly exhausted in front of you, though she still managed to remain awake as she laid sprawled on the ground. The rest were from the farming families that lived near the village, all faring marginally better, groups of sisters sitting close together to mourn their losses quietly.

Altogether there was twelve of you, six families left represented of the thirty or so that called Ozryn home- but you crushed that thought before it began.

“What are we going to do?” The elder of the two Littlerock sisters, Rose, whispered. She was around the same age as you and Mauve, the three of you in the same class when you were in school. It took you a moment to realize she was talking to you.

You look down at the Blackbriar sisters, by far the youngest members of your group, all three still teenagers. Everything was still so uncertain—such as how the twelve of you would outrun an entire platoon with horses and crossbows and the twelve of you debilitated and on foot with not a single shoe between you. The most you could share was your line of thinking, much of your plan dependent on opportunity that wasn’t likely to present itself in the middle of an enemy camp.

“We will have to wait and see if they separate us tonight,” you begin carefully, some of the older girls’ expressions flashing with disgust as they caught the subtext. “We need to gather our strength and escape. Preferably by tonight. We’re getting near Tasca; if we can get enough of a head start, we may be able to warn them and get to Vircia.

“Or, Dumir’s soldiers are already on their way and we won’t have to do anything,” you added lamely after a moment, the paltry hope you offered clearly doing little to dispel the gloom hanging in the air. The chances you would be found by anyone able to help and before nightfall were slim, and you all were just as likely to be killed in the chaos of a battle. The only true escape would be to escape on your own, something everyone had to come to grips with on their own.

When a soldier approached your group once again, everyone scrambled to huddle together, Winnie roused from her slumber and dragged close.

You alone remained standing, facing him down and doing your best to block his view of the others. Despite your best effort to keep yourself from showing any of the fear you definitely felt, you couldn’t help but take a step back when he got uncomfortably close. He grinned at you concession, the predatory look he gave you sending chills down your spine. Perhaps you wouldn’t even have until tonight to need to escape.

“All of you, get near the fire,” he finally said, ignoring you to address the group before jerking his head towards the center of camp where a large bonfire was already going strong. “What for?” You demanded in one final act of defiance, refusing to let your gaze drop when he turned back to you, annoyance twisting his features as he now loomed over you in a different threat.

Before he could say anything, a hand fell on his shoulder, the man sending the soldier away without a single order passing through his lips. You immediately recognized him as their leader, the one riding in the front of the procession and the one who had ordered the village be burned to the ground after capturing you all.

“There’s a hot meal for you all by the fire. None of my men will bother you there,” he smiled.

You didn’t trust the kindness of his words nor the honorable front he put on.  It was obviously not for any of your benefits that he protected you from the soldiers; if that were the case, none of you would be prisoners in the first place. His words did, however, give you more information about your circumstances. He needed you all alive and unharmed, if not for his soldiers or himself, then for his higher-ups and possibly until you were out of Dumir - which meant you could potentially have plenty of time to escape before finding out.

You followed after him as he turned to the fire, the others trailing close behind. He led you all to a vat hanging over the fire, soldiers serving bowls of broth and handing them out. You watched carefully as your meals were served, making sure nothing was slipped into the bowls before the hand off. Despite the likelihood of the soup already being poisoned was low, you still waited until you saw the soldiers eating before cautiously digging in.

Taking the opportunity to observe the camp’s layout, you tried to absorb your surroundings. They had set it up in a small valley, the size hidden from anyone traveling unless they happened to be right on the hills immediately surrounding it. The smoke form the fire, however, would make their location visible for miles, which meant they were either unaware that there was a village nearby or they weren’t worried about it. The former seemed even more unlikely as soldiers began to turn in to their tents despite the sun not being even close to setting. That there would be another attack that night was the more likely option.

Just as you were about to voice your observations to the others, you caught the leader staring directly at you, your eyes meeting for a brief moment before you quickly looked down at your plate. The encounter left you shaken, fearing that you had given away your intentions and ruining any chance of escape.

You woke later that evening, hours after you had been led to an empty tent and eventually fell into a fitful sleep after shaking at every noise that ventured too close to your tent. You had laid closest to the tent flap, making it a bit awkward for the others to sleep with the connecting chain but wanting to make certain that you could hear if anyone was going to enter.

There had been a guard posted outside, but as your eyes adjusted to the dark tent, you realized the camp was completely silent—save for snoring just outside the entrance.

While you don’t risk looking out and waking up the guard, you couldn’t contain your excitement as you roused everyone else from their slumber.

You couldn’t just walk out the front, the chances of the twelve people passing a sleeping guard waking him too great, but if you could crawl out the back without jostling the tent too much, then you could run up the hill and disappear in the marsh. You hurriedly whispered your plan to the others, Mauve telling them your destination should you get separated sometime in the night: the Great Gorge to the east that would lead you north, eventually near Tasca.

You, Rose and Mauve eased the back two stakes from the ground, the only injury a splinter in Rose’s finger she quickly pulled out. Once free, the canvas flapped slightly with the wind, hopefully any movement later attributed to that.

Once Mauve had the stakes, however, she got the idea to break the connecting chain, running along loops in your shackles and only fastened at the ends. While you all also had individual chains keeping your arms together, it would be much easier to move without being tethered to each other with a loud chain. Carefully looking at every link in the long chain until she found one with weak welding, she laid it on the ground and stuck the two points of the stakes into the hole, pressing down on the wider tops with both palms with all her weight until it snapped open. You all waited, everyone laying down on the chain in case the guard heard the noise.

After carefully extracting everyone in between the two people at the ends from the chain, Mauve and Rose slowly raised the fabric of the tent in the back, giving you a large enough gap to crawl out.

There was no soldier waiting to catch you as soon as you got out, fortunately. You glanced around the sides of the tent to see if there was anyone near the fire who would see all of you scaling the hill, holding on to your chains tightly as you moved so they wouldn’t make any noise.

The camp seemed deserted with the only snoring audible form the soldier that was supposed to be your guard; definitely unlikely for a camp of forty some odd men after spending the night before attacking a village to be so silent. An unease settled deep within the pit of your stomach but you brushed it aside, the more pressing matter of getting out undetected on the forefront of your mind.

The others crawled out once you signaled it was safe, immediately running as soon as you pointed them in the direction to go. Once Rose was out and gone, you held the tent open for Mauve, dropping it as soon as she was out and the two of you moving between the tents as stealthily as you could. Just as you were about to make a break for the hill, you were yanked back by your collar.

You gasped in surprise, the same soldier you had a run-in with earlier grinning once again with his sword pointed directly at you. You were caught. You tried to tell Mauve to run, but your throat was seized in panic.

Gathering every ounce of your courage, you spat in his face instead, trying to draw his attention away from Mauve so she had time to escape. It worked, his grip leaving your chain and wrapping around your neck as he shook you.

Instead of running, Mauve appeared behind him, wrapping her chain around his neck and pulling, his eyes bulging out in surprise as he dropped you with a squawk. For a moment you sat there, dazed until you realized the soldier was loud. If anyone was still in the camp, they’d definitely hear his gurgling screams. You scrambled to your feet, coughing as you gripped the shackle around your dominant hand as best you could and smashed it over the top of his head, blood spraying from the impact.

Your entire hand throbbed with pain, most acutely in your wrist. A sob escaped you almost immediately after but it had the desired effect, the soldier going limp. You stared for a moment as you watched him stare at you, twitching and then growing still. Too still. He continued to stare. You and Mauve blinked up at each other.

If he was found, it would be obvious you all escaped and in what direction. Mauve pointed at the tent and you both moved quickly to drag him back to it, you one-handed. Mauve rolled him underneath the gap while you held the loose material, careful not to get any blood on it to give yourselves that much more time.

You then ran blindly, time ticking before your group’s escape and your gruesome act were discovered. Your legs burned as you went uphill but you didn’t dare slow even after you and Mauve scaled the hill. The soldiers were already on your heels in your mind, easily following your footprints in the soft ground just as you and Mauve were following your companions’.

You weren’t sure when, but you found your hand in Mauve’s at some point as you ran, both of you tugging on the other whenever one of you stepped into a hidden pockets of water. The two of you were in the true marshland now, the tall grass making it impossible to tell where the wet soil ended and water began. The moon was but a sliver in the sky, as though she kept her light to herself to keep your trek cloaked in darkness from your pursuers. You looked over your shoulder feeling your stomach drop when the column of smoke originating from an orange glow wasn’t nearly as far as you imagined.

“How far is the ravine?” You pant, your hand and throat still throbbing.

“We should make it before dawn,” Mauve answered.

Over the course of the night, you rejoin Rose and Winnie, the latter one of the first to take off but a slow runner. None of you let her fall behind, forcing your group to move slower. It was dawn when you reached the gorge, a jagged break in the landscape with eight ghostly figures visible standing at its edge.

Rose ran ahead, pulling her sister Lily in a tight embrace. You, Mauve and Winnie, being the only members of your respective families to survive, are much slower to join, feeling awkward to interrupt the reunion and somewhat envious that there was no one for any of you to rejoin.

“You’re covered in blood!” Winnie suddenly cried out, looking at you and Mauve in horror in the morning light. You had thought the blood had been washed from you with all the water you fell into throughout the night, but if Mauve’s red face was any indication of what you looked like, you could understand the concern.

“We’re fine,” you said grimly, “but we need to assume that they found out we’re gone already and move fast.”

“Are we going to climb down?” Grace, the eldest of the four Cedar girls, asked, her voice hoarse.

You look at everyone, all covered in mud and looking about as tired as you felt. Unfortunately, your morbid gift in the tent had undoubtedly been found by now, so there could be no breaks.

“Yes,” Mauve answered for you, looking over the edge, “We can rest once we reach the bottom, but up here we’re too exposed.”

You look down as well, the slope steep but not an entirely sheer drop, likely the result of rockslides and time. Swallowing back the growing lump in your throat, you began to pick your way down, sitting forcefully whenever the rocky surface would break away under your bare feet.

A rock suddenly bounced off your back, very nearly making you lose your balance as you feared the entire thing was coming down on you. You looked up, the others also moving down the path you left. The further you descended, the colder the air grew, the small amount of sun you did have disappearing behind rock.

Contrary to what Mauve promised, you pushed the girls to continue moving, following the tapering stream north. The only way to tell the passage of time was the brightening sky, white fluffy clouds moving across the narrow strip of blue you could see. You pass natural grooves in the stone face, not quite large enough to be considered caves but which could provide a decent refuge when you do decide to stop, keeping you hidden from anyone looking from above.

You wanted to put as much distance as you could between you and the soldiers, hopefully going far enough out of their way that they couldn’t justify wasting resources searching for you. Unfortunately, none of you had much strength left to keep moving, the group forced to stop when the youngest Blackbriar girl collapsed in exhaustion.

Everyone huddled into one of the grooves, too cold and scared to split up though that was probably the wiser option. You planned to remain awake, listening for any sign that you’d been followed, but you passed out almost as soon as you leaned against the wall only to be shaken awake by Rose what felt like only a moment later and feeling entirely unrested.

Because your group was at the clear disadvantage - traveling with limited visibility in every direction with the tall cliff faces and the winding path of the ravine - you decided it would be best to travel by night, which would also allow the others time to rest.

You, Rose and Mauve remained awake to come up with a plan, Tasca still half a day’s walk away at least and no food or water to sustain the twelve of you until you reached the village. It was then you finally shared your concern that the reason you all were able to escape the night before was because the camp was empty. It was unlikely you could make it to the village before the battalion, if they did indeed leave to attack it as they had Ozryn.

Rose sobbed as you pointed out that even if you did go straight to Vircia and managed to survive without eating, none of you had any money or appropriate clothes, meaning it was still necessary to go to Tasca and hope there were still some valuables left untouched for you to take.

It was the third morning since the attack that your emotions finally hit full force, weeping silently into your hands until you finally slipped into unconsciousness, and even then the faces of the people of your village haunted you. You replayed the moments you tried escaping, running through the garden as you felt an incredible heat on your back as your home was engulfed in flames behind you. Once again you were cut off by a soldier on horseback and dragged back into the heart of the village, the faces of the stacked bodies you passed stared blankly up at you, covered in soot and blood. You thought about the same look on the soldier’s face back at the camp.

You didn’t let a single noise leave you, not wanting to wear down the others’ spirits any further. For some reason, possibly from some misguided belief that because your father had been the justice of the peace of Ozryn that you were the natural person to listen to, they were all relying on you to get them all to safety. For better or for worse, you would have to remain strong.

When you suddenly felt a hand press onto your shoulder you jumped, whipping around to see Winnie looking at you with similarly glistening eyes. You reached blindly for her and she immediately embraced you. You were grateful for her sturdy frame engulfing you, the two of you falling asleep like that, comforted by each other’s presence.

That night, you travelled again until dawn, stopped for a short rest and then looked for a way to climb out of the gorge safely. The walls were significantly less steep here - about double Rose’s, the tallest of your group, height - not nearly as much of a canyon as it had been out in the marshland. Despite that, none of you could afford any injuries in this pivotal moment in your journey. If the attack on Tasca was anything like Ozryn, the battalion was likely long gone, but you wanted to be prepared for the worst case scenario.

One of the Blackbriar girls found something better, noticing an old goat path along the cliff face with just enough space for each of you to ascend in a single-file line, the river they were brought to long gone but the route carved by countless cloven hooves remaining.

Once the group cleared the gorge, you found yourselves in a pine forest, the mud replaced with dried needles. The unfavorable terrain made everyone slow down, the sharp points of the pine needles making everyone flinch at some point or another.

“Do we all have to go?” One of the Cedar sisters suddenly piped up, her voice trembling with emotion, “Shouldn’t some of us stay in the gorge?”

You sighed, knowing her concern wasn’t entirely unfounded and likely mirrored the thoughts of most of others. You also were loath to see another ruined village, but to split up was dangerous, especially with no supplies or familiarity with the area.

“I’ll go into the village, but you should all stay close,” you answer, quickly adding, “Spread out but keep within each other’s line of sight. Run the moment you even think there might be danger.”

There were slow nods of agreement, but Mauve stepped forward to stop you from leaving.

“I should go, too,” She argued, “two sets of hands is better than one.”

You shake your head firmly, “You have the most profitable skill among us, Mauve. We need you if we’re going to make it in a larger city.”

You didn’t give anyone else time to argue, venturing through the forest the rest of the way alone. There was no smell that would suggest an entire village was burned two nights ago as you approached, but the forest was also completely silent save for the birds flitting through the tops of the trees. When you finally reached the first buildings, they were all still intact but there was no sign of life.

Entering a few of the homes confirmed your suspicion. Tasca had been deserted, likely long before just a few days ago as there was no evidence of a mad dash to get out. Nothing had been left disturbed, wardrobes and dressers carefully closed once emptied, picture frames and other personal items - things that would have been left behind if there was a sudden attack in the night - gone. Even if the soldiers hadn’t ransacked the village two nights ago, you suspected that you wouldn’t find much.

Just as you ended a fruitless search of the village center, you were suddenly seized outside the building, crying out as you were hauled by your hair out into the commons. You caught only a glimpse of your captor, bile rising in your throat as you immediately recognized the leader of the platoon.

Your heart leapt into your throat, any kind front he put up the day before gone as he glared down at you with purple-faced fury. You looked frantically around at the other soldiers surrounding you, your relief that no one else had been caught short-lived as you began to worry about your own fate.

The leader was yelling at you, but you didn't hear much as he shook you like the answers would come tumbling from your lips. You couldn’t say anything as you tried to keep your neck stiff, your stunned silence only seeming to stoke the flames of his wrath. The soldiers were silent as he dragged you to his waiting horse, snatching his riding crop from the saddle and bringing it down on your exposed calf.

You could only scream, mind completely blank with terror. It’s impossible to think, to come up with some means of getting out of this situation alive, but you were struggling to even believe you could. 

Suddenly, a horn - an unmistakeable signal for battle - blasted from the forest, seemingly from everywhere by the way the sound bounced off the pines but definitely close. Shouting erupted around you, though you were only vaguely aware of the chaos as you had gone entirely limp, no energy left in you to react to yet another dramatic turn of events. The leader attempted to pull your dead weight onto his horse, shouting for one of his men to help him, but he was alone in focusing on taking you prisoner, everyone else simply trying to survive the apparent ambush.

You managed to get a full view of the scene unfurling in front of you, not quite registering that orcs were storming into the village from the forest and attacking the platoon. In your defense, you were no where near the orcs’ lands, their shared border with Dumir to the west and definitely not extending this far south or east - orc raiders were the last thing you would expect to suddenly save you, more likely perhaps than only the king of Dumir himself or aliens.

You were released suddenly, narrowly avoiding getting stamped into the ground by the leader’s retreating horse. You ran unsure where you were going but well aware you couldn’t remain in the middle of a battle, at least having the wherewithal to go at a 90 degree angle from where the orc horde was currently pouring out of the forest in an attempt to get out of their way as fast as possible.

You could only pray that the others heard the ruckus and managed to escape, focusing on getting as much distance between you and the fight. Had you any money to bet, it would have been squarely on the orcs, but you weren’t about to stick around and risk getting killed or captured all over again, especially once they realized the village was empty.

The pines began to thin and you began to slow, believing you were nearing the gorge. You immediately skidded to a halt, your heart pounding in your chest as an entire orc caravan stared back at you, clearly as startled to see you as you were to see them.

When an old orc woman stood, you swiveled to your left and ran, though you didn’t even make it more than a few steps before you ran straight into another orc.

You floundered in his hold, unable to understand anything he was saying to you in your panic until a familiar name cut through - Ozryn. Before you could ask what he knew of your village, you heard your name, looking over your shoulder to see the others all standing there, clean and wearing different clothes. Their restraints were gone.

“We thought you’d been caught!” Winnie cried, her and the others rushing forward towards you, “It’s okay, they’re here to help.”

“You speak orcish?” You asked, still somewhat dismayed by all the things happening in such quick succession.

“No, I speak common,” the orc answered instead, much to your surprise. His accent was thick, because of his native tongue or from the tusks you weren’t certain, “The soldiers that destroyed your village trespassed on our land when they crossed into your country. We tracked them from then.”

A bitter taste was left in your mouth as you imagined how differently things would have been had they found the soldiers sooner, even if by just a few days. You would have still been at home, at this time likely taking taking your father and brother their forgotten lunches.

“I am Alkgan. Come, let’s get those chains off. Then you can bathe and change clothes, too,” he said, ushering you towards one of the wagons.

Various weapons were leaned against its wooden side, Alkgan disappearing to talk with whoever was inside the wagon. While you waited, you took in your surroundings, not quite ready to accept that you were completely safe just yet. Beasts milled around the wagons, tearing at the grass; it took you a moment to realize they were cattle, never seeing a breed so large before. The camp was populated mostly by children, from toddlers to young teens. It was obvious where most of the adults were. Few of the children paid you any mind, and those that did seemed more interested in your shackles than the group of strangers walking around the camp.

“This is Vulgud,” Alkgan said, bringing your attention back to the wagon, “He is our weaponsmith.”

The tall orc in question was stepping down from the wagon with a small iron object in hand. You had expected the chain to be broken with a large hammer on the anvil on the ground nearby. Instead, he took one of your hands and searched for the key hole, inserting the tool and seemingly randomly jiggling it around. Within moments, the shackle popped open, giving away and swinging while he repeated the process with your other hand.

You thanked Vulgud, running your finger along the bruised skin of your dominant hand’s wrist, evidence of what you did the night you escaped. It was big, spanning from your knuckles down your arm.

You quickly hid your arm as the old orc woman from before approached, a herd of young children following her. She held a bundle of clothes and ushering you towards a large basin.

Small, chubby hands of every shade of green held onto the rim, all trying to see who was in their tub. You smiled in between scrubbing the mud from your body with soap, the water thankfully opaque with all the grime and dirt from the last two days. They didn’t speak common, directing their questions in orcish to the old woman. She bared her teeth and growled, sending them all scattering, nodding to you before leaving you.

When you were finally changing into the clean set of clothes, Rose gasped, her gaze directed not to your arm but your legs. You looked down as well, noticing the welts that had grown more pronounced on your leg. You had felt the sting while you walked, but you hadn’t realized they had gotten so noticeable with all the dried mud. You pulled up the trousers, covering the marks. The clothes were clearly made for orc children, fitting your waist around but the leg not quite reaching your ankles. Fortunately, the boots you were provided made up for the difference, making the shorter length look purposeful.

Rose left the matter of your wounds at that, both of you returning to the others silently. Once you rejoined the others, Mauve filled you in on what happened while you were in Tasca.

Apparently, they had been found by the orc caravan shortly after you left, before they even had a chance to split up as you planned. They thought they were residents of the village before they saw the chains. It was a fortunate coincidence that the very people you all were running from were the same ones they spent weeks looking for.

“So, what now?” Mauve finished with a question, the others now gathered around you, “Do we still go to Vircia?”

“Shouldn’t we return home to Ozryn?” Grace argued, “The soldiers are all dead, it should be safe now!”

“Why can’t we stay here?” Winnie asked, “It’s safe; at least for a few days…”

“What if we rode along with the orcs?” Rose said, “I’m so tired of running… they’ve helped us so far. I’m sure they’ll pass by Vircia, at least.”

“You haven’t heard?” You all jumped as Alkgan approached the group, all of you watching him expectantly. “Most of the villages we passed were burned down… The larger cities are the same since humans have been fleeing Dumir through our lands for months-”

You stopped listening, despondent over the revelation. Your entire world had literally been razed to the ground just a few days ago and the final shred of hope you had been clinging to had been ripped away as well.

The others were staring at you. You could feel it, but you had no comfort or assurances to offer this time. The news was just as abrupt for you and you had no fallback. They all expected you to be like your father, always knowing exactly what to do and how to adapt, but he also never had to deal with situations of this magnitude in Ozryn so you felt entitled to take a moment.

Wordlessly, you turned around and walked away, unable to provide them the answers the so desperately wanted and overwhelmed with the weight of twelves lives you had found thrusted upon your shoulders. You had convinced yourself that everything would be alright so long as you could reach Vircia, that there would be people there who would no what to do, that you could somehow escape the rest of the war. It was the only way to convince yourself to keep moving and not just curl up and wait to reunite with your parents and brother.

Tasca gone you could handle - you had already suspected it to be the next target of the soldiers and it was always meant to be a stepping stone - but to learn that every other village and town was no longer an option…

You walked straight out of the camp, eventually leaving the forest behind and squatting down in the tall grass. You didn’t sit, not so besides yourself in grief as to dirty the borrowed clothes so soon but still trying to curl up as small as possible. You tried to dampen the nausea you’ve felt for days now, willing yourself to stop dry heaving. There was nothing in your stomach to bring up, but that fact did not stop your body from trying.

Alkgan appeared next to you at some point, plopping down on the ground and waiting for you to compose yourself before speaking.

“The others look up to you. They said you were the reason they were able to escape. Even refused to leave after we removed their shackles.”

“I see,” you croaked, not really seeing anything but wanting to be polite. You wondered why Alkgan didn’t go with the other raiders.

“You aren’t pleased that they see you as their leader?”

You snorted at that, “I’m no leader. There’s just no one else left from our village; they didn’t have any choice.”

“Of course they had a choice!” A deep rumbling that you soon realized was laughter came from deep within Alkgan’s chest as he looked down at you with amusement, the colorful beads that adorned his twin braids rattling together, “They had eleven others, or even choose no one. If you do not accept their trust, then you waste it… and you will need it if you are going to survive.”

You were taken aback by the unexpectedly profound piece of wisdom, the encouragement seemingly from out of the blue. Perhaps that was Alkgan’s role for the caravan, his insight so vital he didn’t go out into battle.

Before you could thank him for his advice, however, the sound of the horn once again echoed through the forest, signaling the return of the raiders. Before the sound even faded, Alkgan was up and walking back to the camp and you close behind, the orc woman leading the group calling out to him in orcish.

She was tall, a whole head taller than Alkgan once he was standing in front of her, who you thought was too tall already. Her armor was dented and covered in blood but she seemed to be in a good mood after the battle, baring her teeth in a gruesome smile and shaking her black plaited hair out of her helm. You gulped as she looked at you, her gaze clearly analyzing you. You were definitely intimidated, glad that you were not been the one to have crossed the orcs.

Mauve had told you that the warriors had already split off from the main group when they were found, so they definitely had no idea why a bunch of humans were in their camp. You could hear nothing while the two talked, the snippets you caught all in orcish anyways, but there was a lot of pointing and looking over at you, which was disconcerting. You stayed rooted in your spot, trying not to look as anxious as you felt while Alkgan walked back towards with you, the orc woman following him. You managed to at least maintain eye contact, even when you had to crane your neck back as they got closer.

“This is the chief of this caravan, Zhulgan,” he introduced the newcomer before turning to her and saying something in orcish.

You could definitely see a resemblance up close even without the similar names, their facial structures strikingly similar and the same mottled shades of green. The two went back and forth for a minute, both seemingly getting annoyed with the other.

The nausea flared up again as your imagination ran wild about what they were discussing, clearly about what to do with the twelve of you. The most obvious thing was being taken prisoner again. Even if your experience thus far told you differently, you felt that orcs would be a less desirable captor than fellow humans.

“We’ll be leaving soon,” Alkgan finally met your gaze once again and you relaxed slightly, though the apologetic look he gave you kept you from fully calming down, “She says… your group should leave now.”

The tension immediately returned to your shoulders. You hadn’t expected to be faced with a decision on what to do so soon, despite having just discussed you options with the others. At the time, it had seemed far away, like you had been getting in front of the issue before it became one and you hadn’t even been able to come to a consensus.

“I- but- Surely you could just stay for the night? If you can just leave in the morning-?” You floundered, trying to think of some reason that could buy you some time to figure out what to do.

“I’m sorry, but we’ve remained on this land for too long already, especially during a war. We’re low on supplies already, we must go,” Alkgan said, the pity clear in his eyes.

You were on the verge of panicking, your mind and heart racing as you willed yourself to come up with some plan, an easy fix that would knock out all your problems. You had no time, unable to pause the conversation to talk to the others, so you were forced to act on impulse.

“What if we travelled with you?” You asked, the desperation clear in your voice. It was a long shot; Alkgan knew your plan was to go north and they were heading west; not to mention that you had nothing to offer them as payment in exchange.

Alkgan didn’t even bother to translate your request before responding, “That’s not possible. You’re humans-”

Zhulgan said something in orcish, Alkgan shaking his head.

“If everyone is fleeing Dumir, we will probably need to leave, anyways.”

“You can cross the border faster here.”

“Some of the girls have family out west.” A blatant lie, but necessary to try and sway Alkgan with a plausible enough excuse. “If they left, it would have been through the orc lands.”

You suppressed every nervous tic that threatened to disrupt your straight face, willing Alkgan to take the natural next step in his argument: that you had nothing to offer. You couldn’t decide who to look at to implore - Zhulgan was the chief, but Alkgan was taking charge of the conversation - so you awkwardly flitted your gaze between the two as a compromise. Zhulgan was staring solely at you, apparently trusting her brother enough to allow him to do so.

“Well you can’t cross without-”

“-paying tribute,” you finished with just a tad too much eagerness but now confident that you could win this argument, “As you know, our village was destroyed. We have nothing of material value to offer you, but we can work off our debt. Mauve knows how to work in a forge and can work metal. We can also help you procure supplies from any of the towns- or work with your animals or help take care of the young ones-”

Alkgan laughed, boisterously loud and making you jump. Zhulgan was still watching you closely, an unreadable look flashing across her eyes, though it was possible you imagined it. You were breathing heavily, not having taken in any air during your passionate monologue. You weren’t entirely sure if Alkgan was impressed with your quick thinking or convinced that you were completely insane.

Rather than clarify, he turned to speak with Zhulgan. You had no way of gauging if the discussion was in your favor or not, Alkgan still looking amused and Zhulgan’s expression frustratingly impassive.

After what felt like an eternity, Zhulgan turned to you, her expression inscrutable. “Your group may travel with us.”

Your jaw dropped, never once suspecting that she could understand what you were saying the entire time. You were embarrassed, believing she would only get a summarized explanation of your words. Still, your proposition had been accepted either way and you were relieved.

Of course, you didn’t have long to enjoy the victory, Zhulgan ordering the orcs to begin loading the wagons. You would have to break the news to everyone else - a prospect that made you dread the role of unofficial leader anew. Grace had already expressed her desire to go home and at least some of the others must agree. However, Alkgan’s words came back to you, putting some air back into your sails. They trusted you to keep everyone safe and you wouldn’t waste it.

[rosemaidenvixen]

A Secret’s Worth

Chapter 17: Jim

Ao3

Content warning: Things get pretty intense in this chapter in a lot of ways. I can't be detailed without spoiling the events of the chapter, so I'll put more the general warnings in the tags. If you want more specific warnings you can click the link above and go to the Ao3 page where I’ve posted the spoiler filled warnings in the bottom notes. And if anyone feels like I didn’t tag/warn about something that I should have please let me know. This is your warning, here be dragons, proceed with caution.

There was a stain in the carpet, from coffee if he had to guess. A dark brown spot glaringly obvious against the beige. It looked just big enough for his hand to cover.

“Jim, are you listening?”

He jerked his eyes up from the floor towards the desk in front of him.

“Sorry what was that?”

Her lips turned downwards into a tiny frown “We were discussing your goals Jim,”

“Oh, right….” he drummed his fingers against his knees. 

A goal. Jim had still been trying to think of one when he zoned out looking at the carpet.

Couldn’t do any kind of job or college, those weren’t happening for him. She’d said their goals could be as long term or short term as they wanted, so maybe--

“My goal is to buy my own Vespa,” Jim said, giving himself a mental pat on the back as he did.

Owning his own Vespa. Nice, realistic, normal. A good, solid goal that no one should look twice at.

The frown melted away into a wide smile “That’s great, do you have anywhere you want to go in your Vespa?”

His face blanked, stomach dropping no less than two inches.

Stupid. 

People wanted cars and Vespas and stuff because they wanted to go places in them. Unlike Jim who was never going to leave his hometown.

“Ummm…..not sure, all the places I normally go I guess,” he forced his voice to stay even despite the squirming in his belly.

Her porcelain smile remained fixed in place “I think that sounds like an excellent goal, but how about you try to think of a more long term goal before the end of the school year?”

Jim nodded along, digging his fingers into his jeans to distract himself from the hot, fluttery feeling sweeping over his entire body.

Was she suspicious? Did she pick up on how he wasn’t actually planning on going anywhere? Was she going to call Dorrie the second he left her office?

“Ok, long term goal next time, I can do that,”

Beaming at him, she pulled a packet of papers off the top of the pile sitting on her desk “You don’t have to use the guide to pick a goal, but if you have trouble thinking of one these should give you some ideas, now do you mind sending in the next student on your way out?”

Jim forced himself to stand up slowly and not just bolt out the door “Ok, no problem,”

“Thanks, have a good spring break,”

He managed to smile and give a half hearted ‘You to’ as he accepted the papers and stepped out of the office. Heading down the hallway back to the main waiting room, the jittery feeling crawling through his muscles diminishing but not completely going away. 

It never did.

Glancing around the waiting room, he spotted the next person in line.

“Eli, you’re up,”

Eli fumbled with the magazine in his hands before popping up out of his seat “Oh, thanks Jim,” he grabbed the magazine along with a stack of others from the floor before rushing down the hall. Jim craned his head to try and read the cover before Eli vanished around the corner.

Keep So-Cal Weird.

Jim rolled his eyes as he exited the main office. At least his goals wouldn’t be as weird as Eli’s. Although quite frankly he’d rather live in a world where they didn’t make freshmen discuss their goals with the guidance counselors.

It wasn’t like Jim didn’t have enough on his plate already.

He had no idea if guidance counselors and social workers talked to each other on a regular basis, but he had to play it safe and act like they did.

Especially since he was like 99% sure that all the teachers knew. He knew that Strickler knew, and he was pretty sure that Strickler had told all the other teachers. So it was more like he was 99.999% sure they all knew, and the 0.001% was just him kidding himself.

So now he couldn’t even come up with some kind of goals to give the guidance counselor without his anxiety going through the roof.

Jim all but threw his bag into the locker and slammed it closed with much more force than was needed, unable to stop himself from getting worked up. 

This past month had been the absolute worst of his entire life. 

It had started when he’d walked in on Dorrie and Charles going through their house and it hadn’t really improved since. 

When he and his mom had gone over their game plan that night after the initial panic it hadn’t seemed all that bad. Be extra vigilant about making sure that no one saw anything weird and otherwise pretend that everything was normal. If they kept on top of it the investigation should fizzle out to nothing. 

Simple enough.

And the first week hadn’t been all that bad, tense but not bad. Week two had been nerve wracking but doable. Week three was when he really started having trouble sleeping, and it wasn’t like he got tons of sleep to begin with. That snowballed to him starting to forget late night meals and nod off during the day, having to work even harder at keeping up the act during school. 

Although if Jim was honest with himself he forgot most of those night time meals on purpose.

On top of that, week four was when he developed a stomach ache that wouldn’t go away, not to mention learned that his hair was falling out. Now it was the end of week five and Jim couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t stressed out, dead tired, and constantly felt like rats were chewing on his insides.

Grimacing, Jim pressed a hand to his stomach as he turned and headed to the cafeteria. Feeling sick and exhausted all the time sucked, but that was nothing compared to the everpresent, unrelenting, blood curdling dread.

The fear that he’d somehow let something slip. That right at this moment someone was coming to arrest his mom and take him away. All because of something Jim said or did.

Forget walking on eggshells, this was more like crawling through a minefield.

Every second that Jim was outside his house he had to be on guard; keeping himself under complete control at all times. Making sure that anyone watching, teachers, nurses, other classmates, wouldn’t see anything worth reporting. No outbursts no meltdowns no nothing.

As far as anyone else knew the Lakes were a normal, happy family. And Jim had to act like it.

But after five weeks he knew that was a hell of a lot easier said than done.

Jim couldn’t be sad or scared or angry any more, even about regular things. With so many people watching he couldn’t afford to let them get the wrong idea. So regardless of what he was actually feeling at any given time, he forced himself to stay calm, plastered on a happy face, and continued along like everything was fine.

But he wasn’t fine. Underneath his plastic smile Jim was coming apart at the seams.

He felt like a nerve with all the skin and muscle ripped away. Exposed to the cold air and completely vulnerable, ready to go off at the slightest touch.

Constantly keeping himself under control in front of all the teachers and every other adult in school was was bad enough, even without--

Jim stopped short as he stepped into the cafeteria, instantly spotting them sitting at a corner table. Five weeks ago the sight would have been somewhat soothing, now it was enough to make his heartbeat triple and intestines knot up.

Pulling in a shaky breath, Jim forced down the sudden bout of nerves. 

He was in the middle of school in the middle of the cafeteria surrounded by other people. Now was not the time to lose it. 

Five in. Hold for five. Five out.

Repeat

After a minute of deep breathing the full body shivers finally diminished to a much more manageable fluttering in his chest. Confident that he’d successfully gotten his emotions under control, Jim raised a foot and slowly resumed his approach.

Jim had been going back and forth about doing this for weeks, but this morning cinched it. 

He was doing this. Today. Right here right now. Even if the idea of doing it felt like standing on the edge of a cliff. 

Because the worst part of the past month hadn’t been constantly being on guard or always being tired and nauseous. It was not knowing who’d he had to be on guard from.

A month ago, when he’d walked in on CPS in his house, Jim instantly knew one of his friends had blabbed.

While his immediate response had been to call Toby and demand answers, it didn’t take very long for Jim to shift gears to shoving the thought into the back of his mind and keeping it there. Couldn’t do anything to change it so there was no point to shoving his foot into that hornets nest. A with the way things had blown up when their problems with his mom first came out, forcing the issue might put him on the odds with all of them, and cost Jim the one part of his life that didn’t actively suck right now. The only thing to do was let it go.

So Jim let it go.

But as the weeks went by, despite how much he actively tried not to think about it, small doubts kept sprouting up in the back of his mind like weeds.

Did Mary really mean it when she asked how he was doing or was she fishing?

Was Toby trying to be helpful by offering to help carry groceries in or was he looking for a chance to spy inside the house?

His heart shot up into his throat, pounding as he closed in on the table.

And while Jim knew it had to be one of the four of them that called, he still had no idea who it was. That meant he didn’t know who it wasn’t either.

So as much as he tried, as much as he wanted to, Jim could never completely relax around any of his friends.

It was bad enough being on edge with every single adult in his life, but not knowing which one of his friends had stabbed him in the back, and worse not knowing if they were waiting to do it again…..

Jim stopped in his tracks, table just inches away. The four of them chatting away, his presence still unnoticed. Heartbeat hammering in his ears.

This was going to be ugly but Jim just couldn’t take not knowing any more. One way or another the truth was coming out today.

“I know one of you called the cops on my mom, so who was it?”

The four of them practically jumped in their seats before whirling around to face him. Claire was the first to find her tongue.

“What?” 

Her eyebrows were knitted together in confusion. An expression shared by all the others sitting around her.

Somehow that made the lump of coal sitting in his ribcage smolder hotter even as his heart was threatening to beat out of it.

One of them knew exactly what he was talking about. One of them was only pretending to be confused.  

“A month ago someone called CPS on my mom and I know it was one of you,” he made a show of narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms “So don’t try to deny it,”

They all turned and looked at each other, shifting uncomfortably in their seats. 

Jim stood his ground, mouth set into a firm line and prickling doubts shoved down into the bottoms of his feet. There it was, the accusation out in the open. Whoever it was might try to deny it, but Jim knew it had to be one of the four of them, and he wasn’t going to let them weasel their way out of--

“Jim….” Toby spoke slowly, briefly meeting his eyes before looking away “We….all did,”

His heart stopped.

For a moment Jim wasn’t sure how to respond, wondering if he’d actually heard Toby correctly, then the world slowly started to turn again and the words sank in.

“.....you what?”

“It’s true,” he snapped his gaze over to Darci, she flinched but didn’t look away “After we tried...talking to you, the three of us went to my dad and showed him the photos,” she glanced over to Toby at her side “It was only after that we learned Toby also talked to someone about--”

Jim whirled on Mary “I thought you said you deleted those?!”

“I-- uh-- umm…” she squirmed in her seat “I....made…...copies,”

Jim’s jaw fell open, unable to form words.

Out of all the possibilities, all the theories and ideas he’d had on who might have called, he’d never even dreamed that they’d all been in on it together.

His head was spinning, insides frozen and a roaring sound in his ears. Both hands rising up and fisiting through his hair, in a distant part of his mind he knew he shouldn’t be doing that since it was still falling out.

Just when he’d thought there couldn’t be anything else. That life couldn’t possibly throw anything worse at him--

Things became worse than he ever could have imagined.

He was faintly aware that the four of them were glancing around at each other from across the cafeteria table “Ok,” Claire laid both hands flat in front of her palms down “You have every right to be mad at us, but…”

Jim tuned her out, he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to whatever Claire was saying when his world was going to pieces right now. 

He thought that when he figured out who had been the one to call CPS he could call them out for lying and get the rest of the group to back him up. That he’d figure out who he could actually feel safe with and finally be able to fix at least one part of his completely messed up life.

But it hadn’t been one of them, it had been all of them. They’d torn his life apart and kept it a secret. They lied to him. Every day. For over a month.

Heat shot through him, flooding through his whole body until it felt like every ounce of blood in his veins was boiling. 

It was his friends all along. All of them. They threw him and his mom under the bus and then they lied about it.

All the fear, all the worry. His inability to sleep or keep food down, the fact that his hair was falling out.

It was all because of them.

For the first time in weeks Jim wasn’t scared, he was pissed as hell.

“I can’t believe you guys!”

They all jerked back, eyes wide, shocked at the volume of his outburst.

“All of you knew about this,” Jim felt nails stabbing into his palms from the force he was clenching his hands “And you lied to me about it for over a month!? How could you!?”

He was spitefully glad to see them all flinch and look deeply ashamed at that.

“Look Jim,” Toby started to speak “I know you must be angry, but--”

He shriveled into silence under the glare Jim gave him.

How dare he. How dare he try and pretend like any of this was ok. The girls he could sort of see, but Toby was practically family. His mom had done more for Toby than anyone else would have in the same situation.

And Toby had still sold them out, with Claire, Darci, and Mary giving a helping hand.

Jim slowly turned to glare at each of them, the heat rushing over him blazing even hotter as he saw their pained faces and slumped shoulders.

Had they had secret meetings talking about this without him, had they laughed, snickering about being able to keep him fooled for so long.

Somehow a cold dribble of guilt managed to seep in past the white hot fire in his belly. 

Even as blindingly furious as he was, for both himself and his mom, deep down Jim knew that wasn’t true. The reason they made the call was because they felt they had no choice. 

They hadn’t done this as a joke, they were worried, they’d done this because they were scared for him. They’d done this because they wanted to help.

But despite knowing that, despite knowing that he was taking this too far and was going to regret everything he was saying as soon as he cooled off, Jim was too angry to care.

“I told you guys. My mom. Doesn’t. Hurt me.” he got louder and louder with every word, until he was practically shouting, the raging inferno inside him demanding to be set free “Don’t you get it? She could get arrested because of this, I could get taken away. Did you even think about that at all!?”

Toby shot up out of his seat with a bang, cutting off Jim’s tirade. Glancing up at him out of sheer reflex, he saw that Toby had the edge of the table in a whiteknuclekd grip, every muscle in his body taut and trembling, eyes sharp as knives.

“No Jim. You don’t get to do that.” his voice was cold and harder than steel, harder than anything he’d ever heard coming out of Toby’s mouth “You don’t get to drop bombs like your mom locking you in the basement and expect us to pretend like everything’s ok. And you don’t get to act like we’re the bad guys for trying to help you,”

Jim found himself taking an involuntary step back. He’d never heard Toby this angry. Ever.

Prying his hands free, Toby stomped around the table towards him, Jim pinned in place under his molten gaze “You don’t get to talk about lying when you were the one who’s been lying all along. When you’ve been lying to me for years!”

“Tobes I--”

One look from Toby shut him up.

“But now you want to play honesty hour? Fine, we’ll play honesty hour. How did you really get those scars on your ankle?”

The bottom fell out of Jim’s stomach, taking every remaining drop of anger with it.

“.........what?”

“Well?” Toby stopped two feet away, green eyes boring holes into him “Go on, tell me, where did those scars come from?”

Jim couldn’t do anything but gape at him. The rehearsed answer, they came from a fox bite, sat in the back of his throat withering.

He couldn’t know. It was impossible. Only two people in the world knew the truth. The act done in the dim of the early dawn in the middle of a remote forest.

Don’t worry sweetie, it's a sterile blade. A few quick cuts and a bandage on top should get you all the shots you need, no questions asked.

There was no way for Toby to know, but the look in his eyes told Jim that he did. 

“How-- how--” he struggled to get the words out “How do you--” 

Darci gingerly slid out of her seat to come stand next to Toby “Ok let’s all just take a deep breath and relax for a second,” she glanced over, her expression cool and professional, no longer holding any trace of guilt “Jim, I’m sorry we lied about what we did but I’m not sorry for doing it,”

“Darci’s right,” Mary stood and approached, Claire at her side “And we all agreed, what’s going on with your mom….that’s not ok, and we couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. I know your mom was probably really messed up when your dad walked out, but that doesn’t mean--”

The words hit him like a fist to the gut “How do you know about that!?”

Mary shut her mouth, cheeks pink.  

By now everyone in the cafeteria was turning and looking at them. And who could blame them with all the yelling. Jim knew that this was exactly the type of scene he needed to avoid, but all the emotions boiling up in his chest were too enormous and tangled and turbulent for him to make space to care about their audience.

Claire took half a step forward “Look Jim, I’m sorry we lied to you about reporting your mom, that was messed up and we shouldn’t have done it, but...” she inhaled, drawing herself up to full, regal height “But we wouldn’t have had to report her behind your back if you had just let us help you in the first place,”

“Yeah, you don’t get to talk to us about lying,” he spun back towards Mary. Hands on her hips, eyes narrowed into diamond hard points “If you had been honest with us from the beginning we wouldn’t have had to lie about anything,”

Toby stepped to the front of the group, arms folded in front of him “To more tricks or lies. We need the truth Jim. The whole truth, about everything. The scars, the basement, your curfew,” his expression was granite, voice flint “Right here, right now.”

Jim staggered back, furiously glancing at each of their faces. Claire and Darci were stern and unmoving as statues, while Toby and Mary were full on glaring daggers into him.

How was this possible? How did they know all this?

He couldn’t get enough air, chest tight as he shrunk under the weight of the four sets of eyes on him.

What else did they know? If they knew about the scars and his dad and the basement, what else did they know? And how close were they to learning….the rest?

The one tiny, microscopic flicker of hope Jim had was that he knew that they still didn’t know about….his real secret. 

If they did they sure as hell wouldn’t be quiet about it.

But how close were they to figuring it out? They’d figured so much out already, it was probably only a matter of time.

And if this was how they responded to everything else, how would they react to learning that Jim was really a--

Icy daggers twisted in his gut.

He couldn’t do this anymore.

He needed out now.

Jim turned and bolted, running out of the cafeteria as fast as his legs could carry him. Barely aware of his friends’ shouts from behind him. But he couldn’t outrun the panicked screaming in his skull.

They knew about his mom locking him up, they knew about how his dad left, they knew how he really got the scars on his ankle. Sooner or later they would figure out that Jim was the monster all along and when they did--

Throughout the years ideas of what would happen if people learned about his transformation had always flickered at the edge of his thoughts. Jim had done his best to force them out of his head and keep them from taking full shape, but now every horrible, twisted thought he’d had over the years surged to the front of his mind and refused to be buried.

If anyone learned his secret it was only a matter of time until the government found out, and when they did they wouldn’t just let him run free. Jim’s blue form was an unknown; wild, dangerous. At the very least they’d lock him in a cell and throw away the key. Or maybe they would send him off to some secret lab to get dissected and analyzed piece by piece.

His breath became choppy and ragged as he raced down the hall.

Or maybe Jim was too dangerous to leave alive at all, maybe they’d drag him away for a long drive into the desert that ended with a bullet to the back of his skull.

And his mom-- 

A jagged lump spouted in his throat.

Would they lock her up to? For keeping his secret as long as she did. But she hadn’t broken any laws, maybe they’d just leave her alone? But then would they even tell her what they did with him? Or would she be left sitting alone in their house not knowing what happened to him while Jim sat in a prison cell, or got chopped to pieces in a lab, or rotted in an unmarked grave.

He could barely see the lockers rushing by him as heat built up behind his eyes. He was trembling all over now, blood rushing in his ears and scream building in the back of his throat.

Keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it together.

Jim was going to break down, he knew that. But he couldn’t let it happen in the middle of school. Not now, not again. Had to get out, go home, get somewhere safe.

Right now his secret was still under wraps, and the only way for Jim to keep those horrific ideas from becoming reality was to keep it that way.

And that meant not having another public meltdown.

Ignoring the sound of the bell, signalling other kids to start streaming into the hall, Jim scrambled up to his locker and started fumbling with the lock.

Despite his badly trembling hands he managed to get the locker open and pull his bag free, but in his haste to grab it the bag started slipping from his grip. Jim just barely caught the side in time to keep it from falling, but in doing so accidentally pulled the bag open, causing everything inside to spill out.

Jim could only watch in horror as textbooks clunked to the ground, papers scattering all over the floor, pens and pencils rolling in every direction. Insides curdling as he stared at the mess.

Why now? Why today of all days? On top of everything else--

His eyes stung.

Why couldn’t he just get a break?

Trying and failing to force himself through his breathing exercises, Jim got down on his knees and struggled to gather the contents of his bag.

Somehow his efforts to gather the papers just spread them even more, the task made impossible by how badly he was shaking all over, breath coming in quick, quivering pants, teeth digging into his lip until he tasted copper, a storm roiling just beneath his skin.

He squeezed his eyes shut, grabbing a textbook and clenching his fingers around it so tight they hurt.

Get it together. Get it together. Get it together.

“Oh my god are you crying again?”

Jim froze, inside and out, eyes shooting open to stare down at two of his pencils and the textbook he’d just grabbed off the floor. Familiar snide, smarmy voice coming from behind him.

“Dude he totally is!” Seamus said with a laugh “This is too good,”

Jim couldn’t move, nerves paralyzed. Every drop of emotion he’d had to deal with today, shock, anger, fear, and guilt, surging through him.

“Awww what’s the matter baby?” Steve jeered “Do you want a bottle?”

Seamus and Logan’s laughter echoed in his ears. From the corner of his eye he saw the traffic around them slowing as other people stopped and stared. He couldn’t feel his fingers any more, curled into rigid claws around the edges of the book.

And just like that Jim was done.

He threw his textbook against the lockers as hard as he could, unleashing a thunderous boom into the hall.

“Fuck off Steve!”

Steve, along with Logan, Seamus, and everyone else milling around in the hallway behind him, froze “What did you just say Lake?”

“You heard me Steve,” Jim growled, stomping to his feet “Fuck. Off.”

Normally he would never lose his cool with Steve, the guy just wasn’t worth it, but after everything that had happened today, everything that had happened over the last month, he just couldn’t take it any more.

And Steve thought he was such a hot shot; popular, spot on the basketball team, grades good enough to keep it but not so good to be considered a nerd. But Jim knew a lot more than Steve thought he did.

Recovering from his surprise at Jim’s outburst, Steve gave him his best sneer “Alright Crybaby you got about ten seconds to get down on your knees and apologize before I break your--”

“Oh can it Steve, like you have any business calling me crybaby when you were the one bawling in the locker room about how your daddy couldn’t come watch your big game!” Jim practically spat the words.

The smug look on Steve’s face vanished, eyes going wide and the color leeching from his skin “Wha-- how-- how did--”

“Since you can’t seem to figure it out I’ll spell it out for you, your dad doesn’t give a shit about you or your basketball games! And if you really want to make him happy go play in traffic so he doesn’t have to pay child support!”

A hush went through the crowded hall. Semus’s eyes were bugging out and Logan looked absolutely petrified; Steve himself was wearing the most hang-jawed expression Jim had ever seen.

More and more people were gathering around now, drawn by all the commotion. Jim knew it was bad to be drawing this kind of attention, especially after the stunt he just pulled on the cafeteria, but the dam inside him had burst and it felt so so good to finally let it all out.

Let someone else have the rug pulled out from under them. Let someone else feel exposed and vulnerable. Let someone else have their deepest darkest secrets thrown back in their face.

Let someone else be afraid for once. Someone who actually deserved it.

“Face it Steve you’re not special,” Jim’s voice practically dripped venom “You’re just some moron who thinks that if they dribble a basketball good enough they can get an even bigger moron to give two shits about them. It’d actually be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic,”

Even as he said the words, felt the thrill of finally being able to take Steve down a peg, a tiny trickle of guilt managed to creep in. For saying something so horrible, so wrong. That no one deserved to hear, not even Steve. But what little guilt he had was easily drowned out by the massive ocean of vindictive glee he felt now that Psycho Steve was getting to experience a tiny piece of what it was like to be Jim Lake.

The crowd around them was deathly quiet now, everyone stunned into silence by Jim’s words. Shocked that he actually went there. With one exception. 

Steve’s face had gone from ghost white to purple, the veins in his neck bulging, hands balled into fists as his sides “You’d better shut your mouth Lake,” his voice was soft but dangerous. Everyone, even Logan and Seamus, nervously edging away from him.

Unfortunately for him Jim just didn’t care anymore.

“Or what?”

He stepped forward, unable to resist poking the bear “You gonna punch me in the face or something? Well go on, do it! You’re only mad because I’m right!”

Another rush of spiteful satisfaction coursed through him when Jim saw the purple flush on Steve’s face darken even further at his words, so much that he didn’t even care that some of the onlookers had started to pull out their phones.

“Well what are you waiting for? Hit me, punch me, it’s not gonna make a difference. It’s not going to change the fact that you’re a loser who’s life has fucking peaked!” he jabbed a finger into Steve’s chest, getting right up into his face “That the only thing you have going for you is a spot on the basketball team. And after that all you have to look forward to is a dead end job at the gas station and at least two divorces!”

Steve was practically quivering with anger now, nostrils flaring, teeth clenched so hard he was surprised they hadn’t cracked, but Jim could still see the flash of genuine hurt in his eyes “I’m warning you Lake--”

“Because that’s all you’ll ever be, a loser! Maybe the real reason your dad left was because he finally figured out how much of a loser you really--”

The blow took him by surprise, more than it probably should have. A dazzling flash of pain in his temple that snapped his head back into the lockers with a deafening bang as more pain flared in the back of his skull. Hot stars danced in his vision, the world around him spinning,. 

Jim vaguely registered that he wasn’t on his feet anymore, felt the linoleum under his back, the cool metal behind his shoulders and neck. Dimly heard the panicked shouts coming up from around him, even though he couldn’t make out the words. 

Blinking past the throbbing pain in his skull, and the warm trickle of something in his eye, Jim’s sight cleared just long enough for him to see Steve’s face, twisted into a mask of primal rage, and another fist rapidly approaching.

[murdereraisuha]

Classpecting TWST: Octavinelle

Time to assign Homestuck classpects to the fish mafia!

Spoilers for chapter 3 and some of the trio’s personal stories. No knowledge of Homestuck required to read.

[Image description: A banner containing a picture of Azul, the symbol for the space aspect, and the words “Azul Ashengrotto: Thief of Space”]

For Azul, I think it’s easier to narrow down what his class is first.

To get back at his childhood bullies, Azul developed his unique magic “It’s a Deal,” which lets him make contracts with others. 

He uses clever loopholes and tricks to shift his contracts in his favor, letting him reap the magic and abilities of his victims. 

However, despite his power and skills, he still has self-image issues. 

In chapter 3, he overblots during a desperate magic stealing spree to make a more perfect him who isn’t a “stupid, clumsy octopus who can’t do anything by himself.”

What I get from this is that he steals from others, he worked hard to shape himself into a successful person, and he perceives fault in himself. Based on this, I think his class is either thief, the active theft class, or knight, the active exploitation class.

With that in mind, what exactly does he steal/exploit, and what do his insecurities relate to? Rather than concepts like luck, freedom, or the soul, Azul seems centered on concrete objects. In his childhood, he was tormented due to his physical appearance. In the present, he carefully controls his diet to maintain a slender physique. He also hoards things like coins and his contracts. 

Based on these things as well as the creativity he exhibits in his elaborate schemes (exam notes, beans day, investigating Scarabia, etc.), I think that Azul’s aspect is space, the aspect of physical attributes, creation, and patience.

So, thief of space or knight of space? After research into both, I think that thief fits the best. First of all, though Azul has amazing abilities on his own, he relies a lot on maintaining a hoard of contracts. Rather than working with what he has, he constantly seeks out more: more power, more profits, more restaurant locations. Similarly to how Azul’s downfall in chapter 3 stemmed from trying to steal too much (Yuu’s house & the photo), the 2 thieves in Homestuck also get into trouble for being too overconfident. Finally, while a knight generally protects and shelters those around them, Azul isn’t afraid to do stuff such as wring Floyd out like a towel to use his eel slime for developing a beauty product. Therefore, Azul is most likely a thief of space.

[Image description: A banner containing a picture of Jade Leech, the symbol for the light aspect, and the words “Jade Leech: Rogue of Light”] 

To figure out Jade’s aspect, let’s consider some facts about him. 

His unique magic, “Shock the Heart,” forces a person who looks him in the eye to truthfully answer a question he asks them. 

He dislikes predictable things, which is a reason why he loves his chaotic brother and enjoys growing unknown plants. 

He prefers to stay in the shadows while Azul/Floyd takes the spotlight.

Based on these factors, Jade seems well suited to either the void aspect, the aspect of secrets, confusion, and irrelevance, or its opposite the light aspect, the aspect of truth, awareness, and importance. Now, how does he interact with his aspect?

Though Jade, Azul, and Floyd are equals, Jade still usually acts in a supportive role to them. For example, in his ceremony robes story, Jade gives the list of the new students’ private Magicam accounts to Azul for him to use instead of using the list himself. Therefore, I think that Jade probably has a passive class.

Jade does not have a deficit of light/void and he does not have a destructive relationship with light/void, ruling out page and bard. He doesn’t truly embody either aspect, ruling out heir, and he doesn’t seem to do much creating/healing of light/void, ruling out sylph. That narrows it down to seer of light, seer of void, rogue of void, and rogue of light. 

Though I originally thought he was probably void and just kept the light option open just in case, Jade might actually be a rogue of light. A rogue, the passive theft class, invites theft of their aspect and through their aspect. Jade reveals knowledge (ex. contract violations & the Magicam accounts) and then leaves Azul and Floyd to do with it as they please. Also, Shock the Heart is activated using his eyes, and eyes are a symbol of the light aspect in Homestuck. 

Furthermore, the rogues of Homestuck often have trouble coping with having their aspect, correlating with Jade being uncomfortable with having people’s attention on him. He also has problems with giving information/the truth about himself. For example, his exaggerated fake tears after Idia doubts his wish during the Wish Upon a Star event strengthens Idia’s belief that Jade's wish is insincere, even though Jade might have really wanted to use his wish for Azul and Floyd’s benefit. Though Jade is pretty different from the typical descriptions of rogues of light I have read, I think he probably is a rogue of light.

[Image description: A banner containing a picture of Floyd, the symbol for the blood aspect, and the words “Floyd Leech: Bard of Blood”]

For Floyd, I have an aspect already in mind.

Breath represents freedom and flexibility. From his general refusal to wear his uniform properly or take on responsibilities to specific events like trying to play dodgeball during basketball club, Floyd certainly exhibits freedom. His unique magic, “Bind the Heart,” references the concept of freedom/captivity in its name. By deflecting any magic aimed at him, it basically ensures his freedom from injury and other harmful effects like Riddle’s” Off with Your Head!”

Just so we’re not narrowing our focus too much though, I’d like to point out that the rage aspect is also a possibility. Rage represents negative emotions, defiance, and persistence. For Floyd, he rebels against conformity and also exhibits some stubbornness in his teasing of Riddle. Floyd’s aspect might also be the opposite of breath or rage, blood or hope, since each aspect and its opposite are just 2 sides of the same coin as we saw with Floyd’s brother.

Anyway, on to class. First off, thief and rogue are out since he doesn’t do much theft. He doesn’t hide behind any masks or act very pessimistic, so knight, page, and prince are out, and he doesn’t seem to struggle with knowledge of things, so mage and seer are out. Of the remaining classpect combos, I was thinking witch of rage, bard of rage, heir of breath, or maid of breath. However, as I just said, the aspects blood or hope might also apply. After looking into god tiers of those aspects, one stuck out at me: bard of blood.

Bard is the passive destruction class, which invites destruction of their aspect or through their aspect. Bards and princes, the active destruction class, are notable in how they exhibit traits of the opposite aspect since they destroy their own aspect in themselves. In Floyd’s case, his abundance of freedom & spontaneousness can also be seen as an absence of commitments & responsibilities.

However, a bard doesn’t destroy all traces of their aspect, which is how I can find evidence that Floyd’s aspect is actually blood rather than breath. In Homestuck, those of the breath aspect tend to be rather emotionally detached or passive. For example, John handles shocking revelations with ease and Tavros uses sleep to escape sadness. On the other hand, blood players tend to be emotionally explosive and assertive. Karkat and Kankri are well known for being rather... cranky. Now, for Floyd,

I don’t think an emotionally passive person would have a murder mode face like this. There’s also the fact that Floyd specifically hates shackles, while a breath player would probably take their freedom more for granted. Anyway, going to how being a bard would interact with Floyd’s aspect, as a bard his actions lead to destruction of bonds/responsibilities. However, a bard’s aspect is still a part of them/an inevitability even if they try to act like it isn’t.

Let’s take the one big example of anguish within Floyd that we have: his school uniform story. While Floyd is having a blast riling Riddle up and trying to bait him into a game of tag, Riddle remarks that Jade doesn’t bother with this sort of mischief and he’s completely different from Floyd even though they’re twins. This causes Floyd’s mood to take a 180 and he abruptly leaves. Even though Floyd does stuff like steal Jade’s clothes or shove work on him—things that might suggest Floyd doesn’t care about Jade—Floyd actually doesn’t want their bond with each other to break. This also holds true for Azul: though Floyd explicitly says in chapter 4 that he and Jade will leave Azul if he becomes boring, that seems like a half-truth: with Azul being the person he is, how likely is it that he would ever become boring?

Floyd is a genius, talented in everything from academic subjects to music to sports. However, as noted by some other characters, his mood swings and flippantness prevent him from being the even more terrifyingly powerful person he could become. His personal challenge may very well be to find a middle ground between running from and depending on his bonds/responsibilities. Therefore, based on Floyd’s values, attitude, and faults, I can say that he is very likely a bard of blood.

-- Final notes --

Firstly, If you actually read through all this and enjoyed it, I recommend checking out mia-pon289’s Octavinelle theories and Dahniwitchoflight’s classpect stuff since this post drew a lot of inspiration from those. 

Secondly, I am going to flip my shit if Ace’s aspect turns out to be blood too once I get to analyzing Heartslabyul. Is basketball club just gonna become blood club?

Thirdly,

[Image description: A venn diagram with 2 circles. One circle is labeled “Animal with 8 legs” and contains “Vriska” in it. The other circle is labeled “Aquatic” and contains “Meenah”. The intersection between the circles contains “Azul”. The whole diagram is inside of a rectangle labeled “Thief”]

[coldcolourchords]

Turning 21 - an unwanted landmark

It happened an hour and 20 minutes ago, as the clock hit midnight CEST and the date changed so seamlessly to the 12th, without any hesitation, uneventfully and in complete silence, just as expected. The day I've been negatively anticipating for the better half of the past one year has come, and it caught me sitting at my computer alone in the living room, drinking hot tea on a summer night in a sweater and doing my silly little tasks that I call "work" (because despite my best efforts, middle of the night is still the only time of the day I can function as intended).

I remember ever since I was a child I always used to start mentally preparing myself for my birthday from New Year's Day. Even my mother used to say, "now that it's 2010, you're already 10 to me", even though August was still nowhere to be seen. But that felt good at the time. The beginning of a new year and my birthday approaching meant hope and progress, as the only thing I wanted as a child and as a teen was to grow up and not have to be a child anymore. I didn't like going to school, I didn't like being told to do things, I didn't like not being taken seriously, as I'm sure no one does. But by "didn't like", I mean it caused me severe emotional distress, the stuff that happened to me every single day without my control. It's hard to tell now in retrospect what caused what, but I have memories of developing my two most prominent and persistent mental disorders at around 6 years old (social anxiety and a BFRB) which have isolated me and often subjected me to cooler kids poking fun at me, shortly followed by starting school in the middle of my parent's divorce and moving houses. One of our last dinners in my father's comforting family home at the dinner table, I remember being visibly sad and my mum asking me what was wrong. My slightly belated answer ("everything") did not quite get the desired reception, as she and my little brother went on to have a little giggle over making assumptions about what that must include ("I'm sure she's sad over dinosaurs going extinct too..."). And, from then on, it's pretty much been downhill. I didn't like being home and I didn't like being at school (or at any of the million extracurricular activities my mum had picked out for me falsely thinking they could stop me from hurting myself and not just accelerate it). The ever-present social anxiety, bottled up frustration, high academic expectations and confusion about the nature of my very own self-destructive behaviours did not make for an enjoyable time in any of my 12 years at school. So, obviously, all I could do was anticipate the end. The end of being vulnerable to the very systems that were meant to nurture me and protect me.

I think that was my way of thinking all the way until I turned 19. Two years ago. At 19, I had graduated high school, I was about to start university studying something I was interested in, I had a semi-stable student job I liked and I was ready to move in with my boyfriend (a former classmate), separate from our parents. I had an artistic goal that I was ready to work for in my free time, and living away from home I was finally going to get the capacity to do so as well. And then when all of this happened and my thoughts became occupied with the new kind of responsibilities that came with "adulting", I started getting this overwhelming feeling of "what now?". A couple months have passed in the blink of an eye, it was November and I wasn't happy. I was making virtually no progress on my creative goals, my flat was a smelly mess, I didn't see my friends and I wasn't making new ones, and I found university to be draining and incompatible with my brain. I wasn't enjoying anything. I thought, "is this how I'm going to have to spend another 3 years?".

And then a miracle happened. I had to give a presentation at uni with a couple of other girls, and one of them suggested a book to do it based on. Reading my part of the book to prepare for the presentation has unlocked something in me - it was a book about the way people manage to feel like hostages due to their own decisions and thoughts. First it hurt to read because I had to face the truth: I wasn't really a hostage of expectations, university or responsibilities, I was a hostage of myself and my own attitude. I even wrote a song about this (my ultimate way of being honest with myself), and that's when I've felt ready to start working on myself in order to take back control over my life. And hell, I have done it. In a couple of weeks, I was feeling the best I've ever felt and I went into exam season thinking I was capable of the impossible at this point. Who knew I had it in me? I had gotten through a couple of exams and assignments and I was thinking soon I was going to start improving in other areas of my life as well. I was going to make art, see my friends again, go out, have fun, maybe learn to cook and be a better girlfriend too. Not a lot of that has happened. Came the end of exams and the second half of January and I was already exhausted. My job was at a halt and uni wasn't back on until mid February, so I spent a few shallow weeks at home just thinking "why am I doing this again?". It was difficult, suddenly having too much space for negative thoughts and rumination.

But it was only the start of the pandemic when my race with time has really begun. Which is ironic, because when the restrictions were first announced in my country, I really saw a lot of opportunity in them to grow for myself (and I mean this is in the least "this deadly virus is a blessing in disguise" way possible). University moving online and social gatherings being nothing short of illegal all of a sudden felt more than convenient for my social (but very luckily not health) anxiety ridden brain, and I had imagined this was going to be the most prosperous phase in my life, in terms of moving forward with my goals.

Ever since I was little, I had dreamed of becoming a musical artist. No one ever encouraged me - maybe for a good reason - and I tried to keep quiet about it as well. I was so ashamed of desiring something that was so "unlike me" according to everyone who knew me. I never had a good voice and everyone perceived me as shy, on top of being seen as more of a "STEM girl" (until I went to high school for maths and ended up not understanding any of it anymore). I'd been writing lyrics into my phone since 14 and attempting to turn them into actual songs on my laptop since 17. At 18, I even took a beginner's course in Ableton. Still, I just never felt like anything I wrote was of any worth or that I had a single ounce of talent in any part of the process. But I kept on dreaming and pushing because I thought "if I don't try, how will I know?". My work ethic was awful too, I was an inconsistent writer and an even more inconsistent producer. I never got anything finished because I got lost in the details and gave up due to my perfectionism. Plus, and this is what I perceived to be the biggest problem at the time, I could only record music at home, and my family were home all the time. Moving out, I thought I was going to prosper, then I didn't prosper for a bit, told myself it was okay because uni was making me depressed, then I continued to not prosper, told myself it was okay because I had to rest up after exams. And then it's like the universe said "Stop. You're just making excuses. Stay home and produce those songs now because there will NOT be another opportunity like this".

I put so much pressure on myself then to get stuff done. It felt like my time - all my adolescence I was looking at teenage popstars rising to fame and each year they were just getting younger and all I did was compare myself to them and worry. Worry that I was running late, that no one was going to ever care about me because I am late, but growing up I excused it every time. I was home with my family and stressed because of school all the time, duh, how could I have made good art? But right there, at the beginning of "quarantining", it was just me and my willpower. No school, no job, no impromptu social plans. And who knew how long it was going to last? Some people said only four weeks, some others said months, some the rest of the year. All I knew was I was 19, still young and practically a teenager, and I had to act. And I did. I made two of the worst songs you've heard in your life and I put them both out in the summer under my own name. Like proper released them on streaming services and all. Looking back now, holy hell, how desperate was I, posting it on my social media that people I actually knew followed? With my fear of being ridiculed? I was setting myself up for an emotional disaster. Shock horror: my songs didn't blow up (although I have had a few friends say lovely things about them, at least to me). By the time of scheduling the second one for release (mid July) I was already feeling burnt out. Yes, there was another exam season in the meantime, and the unexpectedness of the elongated pandemic has definitely been a factor as well, but generally I was just so let down by the overall underwhelming experience. I made such bad decisions - why my own full name? Why did I have to let people know and thereby handicap myself? Of course I wasn't going to promote my songs now or even speak of them positively because I feared coming off ridiculous. So I just let the whole thing pass without a sound and made myself sad. By last August, I was back to "what now?".

Needless to say, there were no festivals last summer. Festivals used to be my ultimate summer happy place and I always celebrated my birthday at a specific one (the biggest one in my city to be exact) starting with the 15th. Concerts and festivals were somehow simultaneously an adventurous escape from all my worries and the root of a lot of my confidence issues and anxiety. I dreamed of being on stage and presenting my art to the world, pouring my heart out to even just one person who will listen, the same way that I listen to my favourite artists and what they have to say. Some nights were emotional, some nights were energising, some nights were spent worrying about the people who surrounded me and some nights were just pure jealousy and feeling far away from my goals - you never knew what you were going to get at a gig. I think that overall most gigs were bittersweet experiences for me, but that's how I liked them to be. The whole point was just to feel something. But there were no festivals last year. There were concerts, though, put on by local bands, but lord do I wish there hadn't been any. I went to two of those last summer - one I went to alone and walked away feeling like shit, another I went to with my friends and felt extremely guilty and anxious about the virus after. This second one happened to be two days before my 20th birthday. I spent my birthday worried to death that I got the virus (even though numbers were extremely low at the time in my country and going to small gigs was perfectly legal and deemed not dangerous) and that I was going to infect my elderly relatives who I was going to meet with later. That didn't happen, but I haven't been to a single show since then, and it's been a year. So that's how my first non-festival birthday worked out.

Turning 20 didn't feel good and my birthday aligned with the onset of a bunch of new problems as well as old ones accelerated. I began to think deeply about everything. What was the point of anything I was doing? Was any of it going to get me anywhere? Was any of it causing me joy, even? I didn't know what to do about my musical efforts - should I keep trying to put out songs or admit defeat? I still had that creative drive in me and I worried so much about my role in the world - "I'm not a good friend, not a good girlfriend and not a good daughter, and I certainly will never become a good psychologist directly helping people with their problems. I need to give something to the world - I need to find a purpose". I didn't do stuff because I was anxious, and then I was anxious because I didn't do stuff. But I think at that point I also realised I didn't only want to succeed and produce. I also wanted to live. Having fun was missing from my life too. I rarely saw or talked to friends and my relationship wasn't going well either. Every day I tortured myself looking at other people live their lives on social media and thinking to myself I wanted what they had. I wanted to be someone. I wanted to create, to connect and to matter, but all of these things have only ever caused me anxiety in my life and I didn't know where to go from there.

With the virus getting worse again and the start of another online semester, there was one silver lining to locking myself in again though. During the pandemic, I have been playing a lot of video games, possibly even more than before. They weren't only a nice way to numb my brain and relax - no, the opposite, they were actively giving me a temporary sense of direction and progress with each gaming session. I have always loved The Sims for this reason, I had spent so many years building and perfecting my little worlds to my liking and practicing full control over my characters' lives, but this time I began to feel like it was something bigger. I discovered the Sims side of the internet, something I had not really done before, and the amount of content, help, info and Sims-related entertainment has blown me away. Whole new levels of playing have been unlocked for me and I began to dive deeper than ever. I wanted to be part of the community, so in the autumn I started streaming the game on Twitch and this time I knew better than to tell anyone I already knew about it. That didn't quite turn out as I expected, and my streamer phase was cut short in January by someone I knew from high school accidentally finding my stream. Before that, I would only get moderately anxious before streams, not worried much about what viewers were going to think of me (if they find me annoying they'll just leave and I'll never have to hear from them again), but then that unexpected turn of events ruined everything in my head. All my confidence I had built up was suddenly gone. I never streamed again after that. It wasn't really for me anyway, I told myself.

Instead, insistent on further pursuing the only thing that was giving me joy at the time, I started my YouTube channel initially uploading Sims tutorials, because I thought I had useful stuff to show people that has a greater chance of making someone happy than just watching me try to put together a sentence for 5 minutes straight while my Sims struggle to get in the shower by themselves. And much to my surprise, it was gaining decent traction, although I put a lot of it down to luck even today. But either way, it's been growing more or less consistently ever since, and beginning of the summer I stopped to think "could I not just be doing this for a living now?". "Could this be my new creative ambition?". As much as I would have liked to say yes based on my progress and how I managed to earn the same amount I would have earned in a month at my part-time retail job (we're talking Eastern European sums kids!), it wasn't that simple. Thoughts around this have of course been puzzling me for months now. I like to think of myself as a natural talker, just because I am anxious I am NOT quiet or shy. I can even make small talk very well, it's just that because I'm mortified by the possibility of an awkward silence I tend to avoid situations where it might be required. And I talk to myself all the time. So on paper, talking to a camera should not be an issue. And yet every time I record a video I feel my soul being sucked out of my body because I need to make sure I say every sentence correctly and that ends up in draining 4 hour recording sessions. Editing videos, on the other hand, is a rewarding process, a kind of flow-experience I have not really known before, though extremely long and usually detrimental to my sleep schedule (which is far from being rosy by default). Maybe I just put too much effort into everything, but it really makes you question - is it worth it? Can I really be doing this on the long run without destroying myself? And will I ever get used to the social interactions that come with it?

It's weird, suddenly getting recognition for something, people giving me positive feedback on the daily. This certainly happened more suddenly than I thought it would and I don't think I was prepared. Naturally, people taking the effort to leave me nice comments and messages makes me want to reply, appreciate their kindness and return the favour but the trinity of little demons inside me - social anxiety, impostor syndrome and a chronically low self-esteem - makes this a difficult task to complete. To combat the overwhelming weight of responsibility that comes with making sure I appreciate everyone who appreciates me enough, as well as to shut out the fear that what I have now can be taken away from me any second, I have built up a mental wall between me and my relative success. This wasn't a conscious choice, it's just the way my brain has started dealing with this new situation. I do not allow myself to internalise the rewards of what I work so hard for and that contributes to why, when I look back on 2021 so far, all I see is depression despite having "gotten what I wanted". My YouTube channel has been the only thing bringing hope and the only thing I've got going for me and yet I am incapable of embracing it.

The past one year has been enlightening. It has enlightened me that there must be something deeply wrong with me because I have not been able to enjoy life even at times I had all the reasons to. The times I am capable of letting go and feeling happy for short periods come exactly based on that - short periods. I'm drifting into states of bliss only when I know the situation is temporary and doesn't come with commitment and responsibility. Some of these moments of calmness come to me while walking to the store by myself after dark, getting invested in my video games, meeting up with my friends for an evening every once in a while and writing a therapeutic song just for myself using the simplest chords on the piano. The feeling usually doesn't last and disappears at the first attempt to get back to any kind of organised schedule (that attempt on most days is the simple act of trying to force myself to go to bed). Isn't that ironic? I wanted purpose. I wanted to get it together. And yet... every day is a struggle. I know now, I am the problem. Whether it's a chemical imbalance or another anomaly in my brain or my own fault somehow, it's not my circumstances, it's me. I wanted to be free and to make my life my own, and now I just can't. Every day I worry about running out of time, rapidly approaching death and not being able to say that I have lived. This is why turning 21 fills me with so much panic. I am no longer a child and I'll never be again, although I wouldn't even like to be. I just can't help thinking that I wasted so many opportunities to enjoy myself and to push for my goals. But it's gone now and there's no point regretting how I used to think about life back then. If I look back on my life so far I see a lot of stuff that happened that made half of my brain temporarily happy, but the other half was always filled with anxiety, anticipation to get out or dissatisfaction. It was just never fully right and I keep hoping that there will come a time when it will feel fully right. Before turning 19, I thought independence was going to give me that. Now at 21, I'm not quite sure there's anything that's going to give me that if I don't also start to work through every single one of my issues (although part of me still likes to cling onto the idea that once I'm done with my first and last degree, a lot of underlying stress and guilt will be taken off my shoulders and I'll see everything in a different light). So for a start, I just finally signed up for psychological counselling. I don't know if it will help but it's something and I've done it for myself. I need to do more for myself.

There is so much more I could talk about. Like the pandemic, how I've turned into a hermit, my relationship, struggling to be honest with myself and slowly losing touch with my all time number one passion because of it. I could talk about how I know that society has been deliberately making us (especially women) feel scared of aging and yet I still file it under personal issues, how I've been trying to fix my sleep schedule for a year and a half straight now, the guilt I feel from my family and friends all the time, my inability to concentrate and how I fall into despair concerning the future and present of humanity every time I read the news and people's opinions on social media. I could talk about how I want to cry every time I see a picture of somewhere beautiful in the world - a street in Japan, a lake in the Alps or the trees in the Mediterranean - because I feel a longing that is almost nostalgic for places I've never even visited. There is always so much to still be told to complete the story, but why do I want people I'll never fully know to understand me that well? I need to let go of compulsions like these.

Deep down I just hope that I'm not the only one terrified of growing old.

[pochapal]

rank every year of the 2010s from best to worst i want some pochapal lore

[warning for discussion of my fucked up mental health and my myriad traumas. we’re really opening the pandora’s box here gang]

ok time for me to overshare on the internet again! super long post because i can’t shut up and you asked for it. anyway, by objective ranking: 

#1: 2012 - halcyon era, my personal peak. spent the whole year writing hunger games oc fics with my deviantart fanfiction besties whom i still think about all the time and always hope are having the best possible day. if you were here for this era understand i still hold you so closely and dearly in my heart <3. 

#2: 2013 - god i was such a good example of a human being back then. was the year my writing like actually took off and i had a healthy balance between creative stuff and a social life (said social life consisting of spending lunchtimes at school breaking into classrooms and discussing fandom shit with five other people. reading homestuck updates in the music room on one person’s really shaky mobile data...legendary). highlight of the year and maybe my life was in the april of 2013 when i got out of failing to submit a hard deadline essay by telling my english teacher i wrote a whole novel over the two week break and then producing said novel. god i wish i had that level of like. fucking confidence back me back then knew what i wanted and how to get it. 

#3: 2010 - the last year of childhood. i was 12 and played pokemon all the time with my friends and went places and had a moderately successful youtube channel and it didn’t matter that i was bullied so badly at school because i was basically high off life. summer of 2010 was so good specifically. i’d used to get the bus with a friend and go see movies and break into historical sites and get into normal childhood mayhem and maxed out my pokewalkers twice a month and i was buzzed because i had two (2) whole friendship groups to choose from and that was such a huge deal to me the terminal social outcast. it was so simple and carefree and even though everything and everyone involved in this era grew up to suck except for one specific person i kinda really miss it.

#4: 2018 - this was the first year i wasn’t depressed to the point of nonfunctioning. it was 20gayteen, i was on antidepressants, i was as close to thriving as i got at uni (going into town with people once a week, attending art and culture events, getting good grades across the board), i started to write for fun again, i got my cat whom i love dearly, i was exhibited in my uni’s city’s literature festival, GOD i actually nearly attended a pride event that year can you imagine. this year was basically my life’s second peak. miss getting the 8am train and daintily sipping on a cherry coke to keep me from passing out. wish this time could have lasted longer.

#5: 2019 - kinda absolute middle of the road year not for lack of anything happening but because the overwhelming amount of good and bad things cancelled each other out. so like there’s the fact that i was at the top of my uni game this year, was basically making the first steps into a professional writing career (covid i will never forgive you for killing all that dead </3), finally saved up enough to buy myself a gaming pc, and the summer after the homestuck epilogues, but equally 2019 was the start of the Pochapal Gender Fiasco which is by far the most horrible thing i am still currently undergoing and i burnt myself out mentally about halfway through the year (being stuck overnight in a hospital for a panic attack absolutely horrible horrible irredeemable) and then got like super death plague flu that i was sick with for three months (literally recovered less than a month before rona hit. god’s cruel karma.). so like...it kind of averaged out? the good shit was good but not as great as other years and the bad shit was awful but nowhere near as terrible as it could have been. gotta give a shoutout to 90% of my current mutual cohort for following me in 2019...omelette route gang make some noise !!

#6: 2014 - oof. this year essentially marked the start of a four year long downward mental health spiral because everything fell into awful alignment. i’d just turned 16, finished secondary school, had all my friends up and ditch me at once, was home alone for a whole summer, and was hit with Sudden Intense Body Image Issues that i couldn’t explain until uh. after very recent developments lmao. this one goes out to the me of july 2014 who did nothing but lay in bed and listen to the same two marina albums on a loop because fuck i’m attracted to men and also my facial and body hair are really starting to come in and if i think about this for too long i will literally kill myself because oh god i can’t handle getting older which is clearly and definitely the issue going on here. my brain fucking broke super hardcore and it’s a miracle that an overeating disorder was like the worst thing i walked away with. 

#7: 2015 - downward spiral year two!! i was so volatile this year it was such a mess. i was totally socially isolated after a brief stint of falling in with a group of people at the start of my first year of sixth form until january where in quick succession a) it turned out every single one of these people was friends with the person who sexually assaulted me whom i obviously had a lot of complicated feelings towards and b) baby’s first crush came out as bisexual but in the “women and also trans women” kind of way which tore me up so terribly in ways i couldn’t begin to understand. no words for the experience of seeing a girl kiss a boy and crying so hard at night you threw up because you could never be her no matter how much you wanted it. actually kinda get the sense what was going on there was bigger than just some crush lmao. then after that i was so mentally ill i basically attended school less than half the time and it was the only year in my life i failed my exams. i ended up having to resit my entire set of first year a level exams because jesus christ was i in such a bad way it was a miracle i even showed up to them. all i did was either have anxiety attacks or enter bedbound depressive slumps for weeks at a time. but it’s okay because it gets worse.

#8: 2016 - downward spiral act iii: the spiralling. prefacing this by saying that i actually had two whole good months (april - may) in that i was functioning enough to do my exams and finish school with decent grades. the rest was super extra mega terrible. my school attendance for year 13 dipped below 65% and literally the only thing that kept me from being kicked out was the fact that i was naturally smart at the subjects i took and also because the school would have a lot to answer for after letting me get to that state despite having a hefty file on how damaged i was. keep in mind every single part of this was fully untreated btw - i was just floundering around and letting it all fester. i spent three solid weeks going to school but locking myself in the bathroom all day every day and having mental health episodes then going home like nothing else happened only to continue the breakdown that night. then things got kicked into fucked up overdrive when i moved out to uni and was cut off from what little support structures i did have. it was so bad all i did was cry all the time and never went anywhere to the point where three separate sources recommended me to the wellbeing and crisis counselling service that i stopped going to after two sessions because i was fucked up in ways cbt techniques could not even touch. at least i tried to make an effort for the first two months of uni which like. good for me?

#9: 2017 - what lieth at the base of the spiral. helltrench year. i was at literal rock bottom. i stopped going to class, i didn’t hand in a single piece of work. i lied to my parents and would book trains each day only to go back to my student flat and sit there and contemplate suicide. like i would just slump on the floor in a catatonic state and vividly contemplate one of four or so ways i could end my own life. i only didn’t because i wanted to wait until the summer to collect my last student loan and transfer it to my parents as an apology for my death which obviously didn’t end up happening. honestly i can’t remember much of the first half of 2017 that’s how bad it was. i remember taking a gender studies class and the teacher made it Weird that i was the Only Male Student in the room and then she sent me a scolding email after i walked out halfway through a class and never returned. apparently i got into a lot of online discourse in this year but i don’t remember anything other than being put on a blocklist by the milkfic author over ace discourse which is funny if you have the context. mostly i just baited terfs and weirdo freaks to get them to say horrible things to me as what i guess amounts to some kind of digital self harm. anyway breaking point came in late august when i got kicked out of university and then nobody could ignore it any more so there was no choice left but for me to seek out help and recover enough to function which luckily i did. i really Do Not remember 2017. you could tell me anything about that year and i’d probably believe you.

#10: 2011 - extra circle of hell for this little fucked up gem of a year. on the surface it wasn’t actually that terrible, until the Summer 2011 Domino Effect Of Bad Shit. up until like may/june it was a pretty all right year! i was 13 and had a surprisingly successful youtube channel uploading pokemon soundfont remixes to an audience of i think ~350-400 subscribers at my peak? anyway then i got hit with the early summer triple combo of childhood friends moving away, cute and quirky sexual assault at the hands of a person in my friend group, and then having some Really Great and Super Appropriate interactions with adults on deviantart. like obviously there’s the actual ptsd-inducing event which totally disrupted and killed the person i was right up until that moment and reshaped every facet of my life for better or worse (there’s an alternate timeline where that didn’t happen and i got into electronic music and/or coding instead) but really it’s the events that followed in its wake which were kind of more fucked up. so like all of a sudden i was super aware of my body and me growing my hair out and being mistaken for a girl in class suddenly became this Less Innocent thing and i ended up spending hours overnight going to transgender questioning forums and looking up hrt timeline videos and having the wikipedia article on tracheal shaving saved because it was a life raft to me whose voice was imminently gonna deepen and i was simultaneously reeling with constant trauma flashbacks and the whole thing was so so fucked up. then i was on deviantart and i don’t remember exactly how but a small group of furry guys ten to fifteen years older than me started messaging me and encouraging and requesting me to produce nonsexual fetish stuff for them and talking to me about stuff like if i’d ever thought about growing up to be gay and i didn’t think anything of it for a long while because they called me a very talented writer and it felt so good to have someone be nice to me after being so alone and isolated for months on end. anyway the only reason i got out of that before it got bad was because they invited me to one of the big furry sites and i was weirded out because i thought it was a porn site and thinking about sexual stuff was a huge trauma trigger so i just ended up blocking them all and pretending like it didn’t happen. at the time half this shit didn’t bother me but in retrospect holy fuck 2011 was such a damaging year. to think if like three events didn’t happen i wouldn’t be the fucked up mess you see before you today.

god fuck this turned out super long but i’m not apologising because this was a therapeutic exercise for me and also constitutes as one of the biggest pochapal lore dumps of all time. come get your food or whatever.

[mikkock]

Hey hi your murder mystery art is super totally cool and amazing and I'd like to Extra! Extra! hear all about it *rattles bells*

haha wow i cant believe ud ask me THIS! unbelievable! now im gonna have to make a long post!

all info under the cut cause im kind like that ♥

For reasons I felt like making a Fancy Ass murder mystery story, with you know, hella complex secret storylines and everyone having drama and shit, and one person died but the more the story goes the less people care about who did the murder and the more they want tHE JUICY DETAILs. X and Y had an afFAIR you say!!! well that’s thousands time more interesting than that murder that happened, who cares about the culprit its not like any of us are going anywhere anyway! tell me more about the marital issues!

The ultimate Vibes are Clue (the game, ya kno, it had a movie too, and that movie was shot with three different endings -fun fact- so that movie theatres could play one alternatively that way people wouldnt get spoiled or even if they did they would not get the ending they were spoiled or even if all three were spoiled you couldnt know which ending you were getting anyway, big dick move, cause its an old movie and film is expensive, also that movie stupid and campy, ALSO I ONLY LEARNED MAKING THIS AU THAT IN ENGLISH THE GAME’S CALLED “CLUE” wE CALL IT CLUEDO therefore my wip playlist is called cluedo. because. fuck it.)(i just have an emotional attachment to that game i even had a cd rom video game version and it was the spookiest shit for a 6 years old, trust me, i played it so much tho i didnt even understand the rULES i was just making scenarios like gathering the characters in rooms n making conversations outloud cause honestly the banter is the best part of a murder mystery) ANYWAY that sure is a whole paragraph of tangent. 

BUT YE the inspo from the Clue game. you can tell it from the Colours obviously, everyone’s colour codded.(even everyone’s name is colours as well you’ll see it’s real dang fancy! im just remaking that game but with 2932020 characters and more behind the scenes drama and also for gay people.)

So BASIC PLOT!

Sir Belyy, the dude in white, is The Rich Powerful Respected Fancy Boss, and he throws a Fancy Reception Party with his closest friends and associates to celebrate the opening of a new branch of his business. All the lads gather in his wonderful little very isolated mansion in the middle of nowhere, like ok he got a death wish or something or he’s very trusting of his business partners, but not a good move, cause in the middle of the reception, as A Phat Storm Starts (for plot convenience, we going with a campy vibe if you couldnt tell), his body is found, it’s awful, there’s a killer on the loose! All the guests gather, and attempt to maybe contact the authorities, to not avail, since The Storm ya know, phone lines are Broken my dude. Its clear that the culprit is among them, since no one could have entered the house, or left it (cuz once again, ThE sTORm). And then it’s all about interrogating each other, distrust, alliances and betrayal, revealing one’s deepest secrets when they form an alibi and revealing someone else’s deepest secret for they could be a motive! Meanwhile there’s a dead body in the mansion just chillin there. 

.

So as I mentioned, I changed everyone’s name to be colour related (or ya know, food or flowers of that colour cause sometimes a colour in a language would not work as a name given the way names work in that culture all that jazz) which is the trippiest thing cause tHATS NOT YALLS USUAL NAMES but its fun (also changed so many ages hgfhs it was a trip)(still no one’s really old i guess i got boomerphobia). The “Cast” is clearly the most important part, and if ur a True “My OCs” Connaisseur (hdfghd the most useful skill to have, knowing *MY* Charactersdshgd) you may have recognised some faces and can already read some vibes and predict who will be progressing the plot and who will be yelling at people throwing accusations ghdfgd.

(god i wish i hadnt slacked off making the portraits of everyone in that AU i only have 3 tho that’s so sad so ill just make little sketches just cause <3 only text??? i got too many hoes with no attention span for that)

.

Sir BELYY (the one who dIEs lmao)

(bust shot missing the fact that this man is the tallest beefiest lad around)

Intimidating, powerful, composed, wealthy, carries the name of a family who has generations of control to it’s reputation, he’s The Man that hoes who believe in the economy wishes they were. As in, the “self made” man who only just happened to benefit from having a wealthy background to uplift his plans. In his youth, he wanted to prove his worth, seperated himself from his father, started a business, that business became big, then got attached to the family’s business, bam back to square one but with Reputation now. There seemed to be VERY big tension between him and The Father, some speculate it had to do with his unknown mother, and some family drama there, and it never got resolved as old man Belyy died quite young (the jUICY speculations are that current sir Belyy mURDEREd old man sir Belyy, fucked up if true!). People love him though in general, as he has that reputation of “Cold Lad With a Gold Heart” aka he takes people under his wings, donates, doesnt treat his employees like the absolute worst garbage etc... you know, he’s rich and a half decent person, so obviously he’s an angel on earth. But does it matter though, he’s dead! that’s the concept of the story!  

Mr.GRAY (the grey guest)(who could have guessed from the name)

He’s one of Sir Belyy’s oldest employees, and benefits from a high rank in the company. But, sadly for him, he’s been stagnating lately, as newer, youngest employees seem to have Belyy’s favours, and are his prefered associates for important tasks and positions. Therefore he has Some Bitterness, Some Salt, Some Distaste, some unbriddled but professionally muted hatred for Specific people in the company. He can be an antagonistic figure, but the amount of time he spent in Belyy’s circle grants him an immense quantity of information about the man, but mostly, about his business. Anything about the company’s history, dealings, operations, he’s aware of, either having been told of them, or having snooped around to obtain, immune to being questioned due to his legitimacy in the company.

Mr.LIM (the green guest)

Remember when it was said that Gray had beef with some employees cause they were younger and rose to high ranks faster than him and became Belyy’s favourite over him? Yeah well here comes the one he hates the most for that (ofc he’s belyys fave cuz he’s Mine <3) Our lad caught Belyy’s attention for his Exploits in like, em fancy high school tournaments of smart people, it’s a thing its ridiculous, making kids compete on Smart stuff for the pride of their schools n shit, well homie Lim got clout when doing that, and Belyy was extremely interested cause that kid’s main thing was how “this young lad got mad strategic skills tf are u a war general or smth how fancy”, and that’s a coveted skill for ruthless business. So as soon as the kid is an adult, bam, join the company my dude. And because he’s just that Cool n Sexy ofc he met the expectations Belyy had, and old man Belyy got attached cuz it do be such a young lad, a kid, mentally i am adopting. That’s how you get a youngas employee becoming the right hand man of one the phatest CEO in a few years, and even make your way into being a Good Lad on top of a business partner. And that’s how you get Gray to hate your ass too. Now though, fine lad with mad strategic skills, rising to power that fast, and even infiltrating Belyy’s private life? If I were Gray I’d call suspicion there’s surely some shady stuff going no way we’re just dealing with a nice fella who just happens to work good and be friendly to the boss right?

Herra MUSTA (the black “guest”)

Belyy’s newest butler, assistant, house keeper, he multitasks. His family has been tied to Belyy’s for generations, fullfilling roles of help, but also of confidents. He’s been the head butler since only a short time, after his mother passed, and as such is still “in training” you could say, despite having served the family his whole life. There are rumours going around that the contract tying his family to the Belyys may end on his generation and need to be resigned. He known the manor by heart, and carries all keys to any locked room (and mostly, The Master Key, cause in an old house, some doors may be locked beyond all still existing keys). He also knows secrets of the family that no one else knows, but good luck getting em out of him, he’s under contract not to divulge em bro.

Mr. HASSEL (the brown guest)

Belyy’s childhood friend. They grew up together, pictured their dreams together, sworn to flourish together, worked together when starting the company, and then Hassel felt he should create his own thing instead of depending on his friend’s existing wealth, and while Belyy’s business went wild, his never took off. They still stayed very close, despite the massive difference in wealth. Belyy considers him his closest friend, the one person he can trust (fucked if hassel did the murder lemme tell u). So of course, he’s still always invited to the Prestigious meet ups where’s he’s free to feel uncomfortably out of place amongst all the rich and powerful people that he could have been a part of had he had a tiny bit of luck and a small loan from a wealthy relative...People LOVE saying he’s still hanging out with Belyy so much to leech off his wealth, cause of course they do! His bestie status means he has a whole different brand of information of Belyy than his butler does, the Most Intimate Stuff, the Childhood Stuff. The Juicy stuff ya kno...But Bro Code, its all secrets...

Sir RUZH (the red “guest”)

Deep dive into Belyy’s personnal history, the man has many employees working at his house keeping it working, clean, ya know the vibe. They live on the premice, one has a kid who’s just a Joy to be around, all the employees just vibe with that lad, he’s just a born socialite you know? Belyy gets to meet the kid, and also hella vibes with him. And because human are influenced by their feelings, he gives the kid’s mum a bit of a preferencial treatment, in the tasks she fullfils and all, til he gives her an important-as mission, and then there’s an accident n mama dies, and now Belyy got guilt and there’s this kid who just Vibes. So naturally the move is to take the kid in, and play on how his vibes are just so clean, and raise him to be the Perfect Entertainer for guests, bam, its soft power propaganda, if everyone loves your now son’s vibes, they associate them with you too. And also that’s kind of a clean rep, the selfless man who adopted his employee’s son to not have him fall to the streets, how heartwarming. Not at all traumatising for the kid too I bet! But anyway now the lad is just the most charming young adult, mission accomplished. He’s always present at any reception, ready to work his people-pleasing magic, and then going back to a gigantic empty manor to wait for the next and curate the perfect vibes to meet the expectations of dad. On the plus side, he knows everyone, and those who don’t know him cannot wAIT to, he’s just got that aura ya know. People skills for miles, and the insider knowledge that comes with being the son of the CEO, all this hidden behind the personna of the fresh innocent bashful party lad. 

Dr.FEN (the pink guest)

Do not get mistaken by the title, he’s no doc, he will not diagnose you with anything, he just studied long enough to get the sexy title. Study in what? Haha. Nothing shady. Just toxicology. He’s a world reknown poison expert basically, that’s his main thing. Oh but don’t worry, of course studying substances that may kill people is only for finding out how to cure them from it of course. What brings him in this circle? Simple, Belyy may or may not have started to suffer some weird illness that no doctor has been able to find the source, let alone cure, of. Him and Dr.Fen had met previously on some event, cause some rich man also love flexing how smart they are and attending sciencey shit, and he was contacted as sort of a shot in the dark. The lad does know how to treat some things, maybe he can treat The Mysterious Unwellness, since no traditional doctor was able to. He knows science, he’s trustworthy, bam, you’re hired to work on My Case Exclusively. Thanks to this, Dr.Fen has access to the whole health history of Belyy and his family, to many mANY dangerous substances, and also has The Respect of the hoes at the party. He HAS a doctorate after all. Epitome of knowledge. And he’s a kind to people and he wears pink like dang how can you nOT pour your wHOLE trust in him. 

Sir MOREVITCH (the blue guest)

Youngest son of an affluent family, who used to be close the the Belyys. The two families fell slightly appart after the death of the previous head of the family on the Belyy side, as they do nOT vibe with the current one (well current, til the first night of the story ig). But, unbeknownst to all, one strong link had been kept, between the youngest of the Morevitch, who dislikes his family and wishes to emancipate himself from them while also assuring his depart will not throw him basically in the streets, and our beloved Sir Belyy, who also dislikes the Morevitches but loves to see the rebellious energy of the young one (and ya know, my enemy’s enemy’s my friend or however you say that). So Belyy’s basically offering tips and helping Morevitch plant himself safely out of his family’s grasp, but it’s all taking quite some time isn’t it, slow and steady is fine until your parents try to arrange a wedding to secure more political power, and suddenly it is all quite urgent that you escape that situation because No Thank You Parents I Do Not Want A Wife I’m Too Young And Also Huh <3 Stuff You Won’t Like Hearing For Sure <3. The people who know they’re working together also know that it’s a big point of argument between them, the difference in vision between “you have to go slow and steady to be safe” and “I have very limited time to get to that safety anyway so I gotta risk it” “hell no you cant i can’t follow through if we’re going that quick that’ll put me at risk and you’re family’s gonna send gunmen to take me down”. A mess, it’d be much quicker to just obtain a few million bucks out of nowhere and bolt for sure...

Mr.GANG (the orange guest)

Morevitch’s trusted assistant. He hears the concerns, he helps the secret businesses, he lies to the parents about the whereabouts, and mostly, he’s basically a budget spy. The lad got that talent where people just don’t notice him popping behind them and catching all their dirty laundry as they confess it to someone they trust, and he always manages to break into places, get the intel he was looking for, and escape, putting everything back into place as if no one was ever there (wonder where he got all those skills from damn!). But what he’s even better at is being sneaky not only to benefit his boss, but himself as well <3. If he can catch all the info in the world, go any places, nothing’s stopping him from playing double agent and also going behind Morevitch’s back. After all the assistant life isn’t the most glamourous and rewarding, who can blame him from going and using his talents to build his own little exit route, right? Everybody sort of knows he cannot be trusted, but also no one managed to really incriminate or stop him, and as much as he has tea on many people, no has it on him, but bet once found that would be heeeella juicy.

M.MOUTARDE (the yellow guest)(this one is straight up the name of the yellow player in the french edition of clue too when i say its my main vibe)

Moutarde was an influential celebrity. He had a big break acting in a movie that the whole country stanned so hard they basically turned the script into their national anthem (they would have if it was a true democracy where the people really decide), he was so handsome and elegant, everyone’s dream husband. And then the fame fiddled out because it’s how fame is, one moment you’re the sexiest dish on the table and the next someone brings in dessert and baam, its all about that fresh cake, and no one pays any mind to your delightful aroma anymore, you’ve gone cold, they had a bite, their interest is somewhere else. Belyy really admires his work though, and mostly finds his image fits with the brand of his company, therefore the two are working on a collaboration to make Moutarde a representative. This WOULD boost Moutarde’s reputation, for his ads would be displayed on every imaginable surface of the country, and it would also benefit the company cause being represented by thAT sexy motherfucker? clearly that’s a deal. The freshness of the partnership means Moutarde is a newcomer in the guests, a fresh face, with no reputation, no relationships, no unfair biases against him. He’s just the new handsome charismatic lad with a squeaky clean image. Emphasis on “image”. After all, no one really knows anything of his background, right?

Kun.LAWENDER (the purple guest)

Private investigator, very useful to be around at a party it’s almost like it was expected there’d be a body to investigate, he’s a very close associate of Belyy, as there’s nothing more important to business than investigating the rivals and finding dirt on them to make them fall through infamy. He’s not exactly the PI who goes look for justice to be served, he’s just here for cash bro. He’s got intel on everyone, and will only let it out if offered the right thing in return (money, or sometimes other pieces of very secret intel, trade is good). Wouldn’t advise letting him and Gang team up tbh but they probably wouldnt, as Lawender is really more of a lone wolf player, going on his own for himself. The one thing that negates his usefulness as a PI on an accidental crime of scene is that even if he knew the whole truth of the event he would not spit it out unless he benefitted from saying it. He sure is a polarising lad, but at the same time, an untouchable one, he’s too knowledgeable to be taken down. Rather than sneaky, he’s extremely observant, noticing the tiniest details and engraving them in his memory, ready to be linked up to other details to deduct the big picture. He’s the upfront tea gathered basically (as opposed to Gang’s shadow tea gathering if you will, they are similar forces but using opposite methods)(also one of em got a licence n the other does not hAH).

~~~~

Now the secrets, all of em have them. One of em at least got the secret of having KILLED Belyy that’s that. But that’s to be kept for later (for if i ever use this story for more than daydream material gfhjgh) bet you can imagine what some of em may be just out of Knowing what i do, from having seen the characters in other contexts, or just because you’re a genius and reading the character profiles immediatly lit up the bulbs in your head forming the perfect theory, props to you, mad genius.

Honestly my thoughts are just how lit of a game that would be, you get to pick one hoe (maybe sum are locked til u find their secrets for juicy purposes) and you do your invetigation using your character’s perks and disadvantages, and maybe there could even be Multiple scenarios and outcomes, to spice it up, give replay value, i just think it’d be a game id spend hours on. tryin to get the spicy details of everyone’s life. walking around n digging through a rich man’s stuff, witnessing the drAMA of people fighting cause they’re locked in with a murderer and that’s stressful ngl. That or a long ass show @ netflix wanna give me a show maybe? give me hella budget we’re making it animated cause im too cultured for live action. 

whatever i make of it though, i hope i can make this story Flourish, just so that i can lay down all those secret backstories i’ve written. i want the satisfaction of throwing out the craziest secret drama between character n seeing peeps loose their minds, it just is a tasty experience.

also i gotta say, i plug the hell out of Clue for an inspo but when i was building the basics of the story my mind immediatly went “oH MY GOD THE VIBES,, THE BACKSTABBING AND tEAMING UP and all,,, its The Genius, that one tv show where peeps have to do the wildest games that require strategy n they’re in that fancy set that looks like a rich ppl mansion oh god the vibes” so yeah, i rewatched the whole first two seasons cause they’re my faves and that had an impact if only minimal in the aesthetic.

Anyway hope that quick presentation gave you a lil taste of the story, and maybe,,,, got you curious,,, craving to learn more like you never did before (im exaggerating the only real question we all got is just “so who’s fuckin with whom then how many of yall secretly dating” this the real deal)

[taramaclaywasaterf]

with all due respect... it's perplexing how much you like spike while being a terf (affectionate). spike, the character whose motivation is to dominate and violate the metaphor for female power (slayers), who turns buffy herself into a hollow shell, who is consistently a perpetrator of sexual harassment and violence, towards women who reject him....

Sorry for the late response, I saw this ask right when you sent it but I’ve been scouring my blog because I know for a fact I answered a similar question about Spuffy before, but tumblr is such a piece of shit website I literally cannot find it anywhere even though I know I fucking tagged it!! Ugh I hate this hellsite.

Anyway, trust me babe I know Spuffy is trash lol. I hate that I love this garbage ship so much, I really do. Part of it is that I was like a tiny fetus when I first watched the show so I didn’t actually realize how terrible Spike was, but now I’m like a decade and a half into shipping these two characters so I’m too invested to stop now...like, I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to- it’s ingrained into my psyche lol. I literally made my father buy me a leather duster from Goodwill when I was in middle school so that I could look like Spike, because I wanted to be as cool as him so badly. There’s no coming back from that lmao

Another big factor is that this show is, what, 20 years old now? It’s not like it’s currently on the air, still making new ones. If it were a new show airing right now, there’s no way I could stomach it, let alone support it. But this was the late 90s/early 2000s. It’s already happened. And as long as we‘re able to recognize *why* the shit that happened in the show was disgusting and wrong, and maintain self awareness and perspective, I honestly don’t see an issue with having one ~problematic~ (ugh sorry I hate that word lol) ship. As long as it’s not, like, literal pedophilia or anything, obviously, because fuck that shit.

Onto more character stuff, I’m gonna sound real cheesy and cliche for a second here, but...well, Spike didn’t have a soul. Everything he did, he did as a literal soulless demon. Angel was off nailing puppies to trees, murdering children, and torturing Dru while he was unsouled. Of course Spike is gonna be a piece of shit. He’s a demon. But despite that- despite his lack of a soul- he was still able to somehow, in his own way, love Buffy and Dru. That shit hits me in the heart every time I think about it. Here’s this guy- a man who wrote poetry and wanted nothing more than for his mother to be happy and for the girl he loves to love him back- who is suddenly torn from his life of being the butt of every joke, with his soul ripped from his body and a demon put in its place. And yet, he still just wants love. To be accepted. Becoming a vampire is supposed to heighten everything you were as a human being. Well, as a human, William was gentle, and kind, and desperate to be loved. But vampires are supposed to be evil. And bad. And remorseless. I said this in the other post I mentioned, but basically, everything Spike *is*, is a reaction to who William was. It’s like two opposing magnets trying to come together inside him constantly. And then he finds Buffy. A woman who not only appeases the demon inside him by treating him like a villain, but also- because of the fact that she’s so kind, so pure, such a light, she brings out William, the scared, lonely human man inside of Spike from all those years ago.

That’s fucking heartbreaking, dude.

Would any man in real life get this type of sympathy from me? Hell no, of course not. But this is a TV show. And we’re talking about magical creatures here. In real life, men aren’t hijacked by literal demons that make them abuse women. They do that shit all on their own. And when it comes to vampires, and Angel and Spike specifically, you as a viewer and Buffy herself can know for a fact that they changed once they’ve gotten their souls (or, in Angel’s case, gotten his soul *back.*) In real life, sure, men can go to jail for murder or rape, but it’s not like they’re gonna come out a different person. They’re still the same person who raped or murdered someone. When it comes to vampires, they’re literally just the same *body.* They’ve got a soul now. They’re no longer controlled by a demon possessing them.

That said, when it comes to Seeing Red...that shit was just straight up bad writing lol. Like, I’m not using that as an excuse or a cop out, I actually really mean it. The writers knew they wanted Spike to get a soul, they wanted to force some conflict, they wanted to drive a wedge between him and Buffy, iirc Joss was off writing Firefly and stopped giving a shit about BTVS, so the writers did...that. I’m forever annoyed and angry at them for it- not just for Spuffy but for Tara as well. It’s like they sat down and said “ok everyone, how can we best destroy our own show in the matter of 10 minutes?” then did it.

Lastly, they’re fucking cute together. Like, c’mon. You cannot tell me “I can be alone with you here” isn’t one of the most unintentionally romantic things anyone has ever said. “Every night I save you”? Fuck, it kills me. “If my heart could beat it would break my chest” stop that’s too fucking painful to think about. “You have to go on living, so one of us is living” nooooo my fucking heart “I love you” “No you don’t, but thanks for saying it”? Jfc that shit makes me fucking sob like a baby every time I watch it.

Basically, to sum up: I know it’s trash. But it’s an old ass show, and he didn’t have a soul, and we can indulge ourselves in some bad shit every once in awhile as long as we know why it’s bad.

[drawlfoy]

The Wonders of Ohio P.3

masterlist request guidelines

part 1    part 2 

pairing: draco x muggle!reader

request: no, this was my idea from forever ago

summary: american high school student y/n’s senior year is interrupted when a british exchange student comes to live with her. 

warnings: cursing

a/n: i’m being so unproductive since my ankle is hurting ughggghghghggh. also: if you like this muggle high school au please please check out @silversslytherin and @fallatyourfeet and @jhspuff as they all have fics that contain some element of this fic! i pulled a little inspiration from them so give them some love!! also second a/n because i worked on this about a month ag oand i’m back now: hey everyone! it’s been a while! it’s going to be a longgg time until i’m posting like i did over the summer, unfortunately, but i will do what i can to get some writing out in my free time.

word count: 2,350

tags: @eltanin-malfoy @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @fallatyourfeet @daintyyukhei @lunathepettuna @writerandee 

music recs: cherry hearts rac remix by the shins, everyone but you by young veins

Y/N took a sip of tea, staring down her mother.

“No. There’s no way. He wants nothing to do with me.”

“Y/N, sweetie, you’ve got to,” Mrs. Y/L/N said. She had a plate of semi-buttered toast in front of her, but she was paying no mind to it. Instead, her coral nails were tapping the surface of the coffee table. “He’s just in a bad place. He’ll feel better once you two are more connected.”

“I don’t know if going out for a day on the town is going to fix this,” Y/N argued. “He’s got some major issues that he needs to resolve on his own. We’d probably be doing him more of a favor by taking him to a therap--”

“Good morning, Draco,” her mother cut in cheerily despite the death glare she sent Y/N. “How polite of you to wait by the doorway for us to finish our conversation.”

Y/N refused to turn around to face Draco. She knew her face was burning red, and besides, she wanted to pretend like he didn’t hear what he just said for as long as possible. Draco seemed compliant to this idea as he glowered by the toaster, waiting for his bread to be done. 

“How did you sleep?” Y/N asked, noticing how dark his undereye circles were. 

“I’m sure not very well,” her mother cut in. “Jet lag and--”

“Mom, I was asking him.”

Draco shifted his eyes onto Y/N’s face in an unrelenting stare. “Not very well.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. The tea didn’t help?”

He scowled and turned his back to her, suddenly waiting very attentatively for the toast to finish.

“I was just telling Y/N that she should take you with her into the city,” her mother said as she began to butter her toast again. “You’ll love Cincinnati. It’s unlike anywhere else.”

“No thank you,” said Draco simply. Y/N took note of how tensely he was gripping the counter, watching how the veins in his pale hands strain. 

“Draco, I insist! It’ll do you some good to see the city before orientation tomorrow,” Mrs. Y/L/N pushed. “I’ll be out to see Y/D/N and pick him up at the airport for the majority of the day, and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone here after only one day. It’ll give me some peace of mind to know that my Y/N is with you. She doesn’t bite.”

Y/N snorted ungracefully at this, tearing off a piece of bread to dunk in her tea. He seemed unimpressed and ready to refuse again when the pop of the toaster rang out through the kitchen, making him jump nearly a foot in the air.

“Sorry, it’s a bit of a loud one,” Y/N offered. “You get used to it after a while.” 

His cheeks were just turning a carnation pink when he spun back around to plate the bread and reach for a knife. 

“You two can go whenever you’re ready, Draco,” Mrs. Y/L/N said, setting her bread down and getting up to clear her dishes. “And I won’t take no for an answer.”

With that, she turned and left the two with the kitchen to themselves. Y/N was still working on her toast and fruit and began to curse whatever it was inside that made her a slow eater as Draco settled down across from her, elegantly ripping open a tea bag and plopping it into a mug.

“So, uh...” Y/N scrambled to think of a conversation topic. This conquest was made harder by Draco’s intimidating tilt of the head. “How’s the British school system? I’ve always wanted to know. Britain seems like it has it together.”

“I went to a rather unorthodox school,” Draco answered, “so I don’t think my experience would be a good example of my country’s education.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.”

Y/N busied herself by eating, attempting to do so without getting to many crumbs stuck on her lips. It had never been a problem before, but now that a very tall and broody boy was sitting across from her and looking like he might off her right then and there, it became much harder to eat normally. Draco ate almost robotically, only pausing to sip daintily from his tea. 

Y/N finished before him, and she was up on her feet and clearing away her dishes in record time. “Draco, I’m going to go get my things ready,” she called as she began to make her way out of the door. Come find me when you’re ready to go.”

He sent her a tense, tight-lipped smile that was so forced it looked painful. 

<^>

Y/N was in the middle of her physics homework when a light tapping on the door took her out of focus, prompting her to drop her pencil and shut her notebook. “Yes?”

“I’m ready.”

His voice, apart from the obvious muffle, was noticeably more reserved, like he was defeated or something. Y/N closed her eyes and readied herself before she opened the door to see a very well dressed boy waiting for her, clad in a very expensive looking silk suit. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“You can’t wear that into the city!” she exclaimed. “You...you look like you’re about to walk the red carpet or something! Not the streets of Cincinnati on a Tuesday morning!”

He looked at her blankly, like he didn’t understand a word she had just said. “This is what I wear in England.”

“I mean, it suits you,” she said, leaning into the doorframe to look him up and down. It certainly did--black was a welcome contrast with his ivory features and gold-spun hair, and the expensive fabric seemed to match his elitist aura. His shoes were strangely unique, with a very exotic pointed toe. 

He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the intensity in which she was examining him. 

“Uh, yeah, let’s get going then,” Y/N said, making her way down the stairs to the garage and suddenly feeling very self conscious about her fashion choices for the day. 

<^>

The car ride downtown was exceedingly awkward, with only occasional breaks in the silence for light conversation. Y/N managed to pull out certain facts about Draco--he was an only child, he was born in June, and no, he hadn’t been able to contact his friends back home--but he was still frustratingly vague and secretive. 

“So, what do you want to do?” Y/N asked, unlocking his door and getting out of her own side. “I have to get some last minute stationary, but other than that, the options are endless. I have a few special locations that I have in mind, if you want me to take you to them.”

He shrugged. Y/N suspected that he was beginning to regret his clothing choices as he saw that no one else in the city was dressed as formally as him. 

“D’you like history?” she prompted, stepping a bit closer to him. 

“Not particularly.” God, it was crazy how Draco could make anything he said sound regal and beautiful. 

“Perfect. Follow me.” Y/N locked the car and grabbed him by the sleeve, ignoring his protests about the material or the tailoring that she was going to completely ruin. She pulled them through alleys and backstreets until the bustling city was almost completely behind them and all that stood in front of them was a small shop, with a sign that read “My Grandfather’s Attic”. 

“This is the coolest antique store you’re ever going to find here,” Y/N told him, proudly standing tall in front of the entrance. “I know it’s probably not nearly as old as the stuff from England, but half the stuff in here is so obsolete that I can’t even identify them.”

Draco scowled at the ground. 

“If you don’t like it, we can leave,” she said. “All I ask is that you come in and see it with me for a moment. Maybe you’ll be interested in it.” 

Y/N boldly grabbed his arm again, noting just how stiff it was, like an iron rod. Draco scoffed, attempting to tug it out of her grasp, but she held fast. 

“You are coming with me,” she commanded through gritted teeth, resorting to dragging him to the entrance. “Would it hurt you to be enthusiastic? Or manageable? Just once?”

“I don’t want to be here!”

“And you think I’m enjoying having to sacrifice my senior year for some rich kid with daddy issues? As if!” 

Draco’s silver eyes were blazing as he jerked away to glare down at her. Y/N was once again reminded that he was substantially taller than her and began to feel uneasy.

“At least I have a father to speak of” His voice was cool, unfeeling, and deliciously savage. 

“I have a father! What are you talking about?” This prat was really going to try that?

“In theory, sure,” he said. “But he spends more time traveling than he does with you, right?”

“That’s...no!”

He raised an eyebrow. “So the calendar that your mother has set up isn’t accurate?”

Y/N, flustered, curled and uncurled her fists. “It’s been a bad year. He just wants to make sure he can pay for my college tuition.”

Draco made a sound that was infuriatingly disinterested before striding into the store, tossing her a rather sour look. 

“If you really wanted me to come in, all you had to do was ask. Nicely, mind you. No need to manhandle me.”

<^>

Y/N hadn’t been in the old antique shop for over a year, and she was stunned to see just how many items she’d never seen before. None of them looked like familiar household items--instead, they were strange looking contraptions, worn with age and marked with the writing of older generations. 

The most surprising aspect of it all was Draco’s sudden turn of mood as he floated about, picking up strange items with a familiarity that confused Y/N. 

“Draco,” she called. He snapped his head up from something strange that he was looking at...was that a broken piece of a twig? “Come over here, will you?”

He set down the weird looking ragged stick with an especially broken end and strode over to her, a rather annoyed expression on his face. “What is it?”

“Do you actually know what all of this stuff is?” Y/N asked. “I think it must’ve come under new management...I knew they sold it last summer. The new owners totally revamped it; I don’t recognize any of this.”

“I don’t know what any of this is.” He was suspiciously quick to answer.

“Now that I think about it,” she continued, “I’m surprised I even found this place. I’ve tried looking for it with my friends before, and maybe we got lost or something since we couldn’t find it. But I found it this time, with you, so obviously I must’ve... I don’t know.”

Draco suddenly seemed very uncomfortable. 

“I think I’ve had enough. Do I have your permission to leave now?” His tone was snotty and not unusual, but there was an underlying sense of urgency.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Y/N agreed, visibly shuddering. “The energy in here just feels weird.”

He laughed at this, a real, genuine laugh, and Y/N was treated to the sight of shallow dimples in his cheeks. “I can’t imagine why.”

<^>

Y/N was holding that strange looking box she had picked up in the antique shop, only it was black and much heavier. Her head hurt the longer she held it, and the simple engraving of a symbol she couldn’t recognize burnt into the skin of her palm. 

How had she gotten here? And how was a simple box glowing like...that?

She shot awake, nearly banging her head on the headboard. It was only then that she realized she was dripping in sweat, her brow frothy with perspiration. 

Gross. What kind of dream was that?

One glance at the clock made her heart drop: it was 6:05, and time to get ready for orientation. Her senior summer was really, truly, and absolutely over. 

Y/N wasted no time in getting up and ready, taking extra care to wash off the sweaty remains of her dream in the shower. It was quickly fading from her memory, and by the time she was heading down to the kitchen for breakfast, she had nearly forgotten the entire ordeal. 

“Good morning,” she greeted her father, who was sitting at the head of the table and staring down at a crossword. 

“Oh. Good morning,” he said, glancing up from his paper for a moment. “I haven’t seen you in a bit. Is it time for school already?”

“Orientation. I have to take Draco this morning.”

“Draco? Did your mother get a dog or something?”

Y/N laughed stiffly as she prepared her tea. “No, Dad, our exchange student this year from Britain. Don’t make fun of his name so loudly, I’m sure he can hear you.”

Mr. Y/L/N simply nodded and returned to his work, occasionally taking a sip from his half full cup of coffee. Y/N had never been close with him, but they had spent enough time around each other to feel comfortable in silence. 

Y/ N had only just sat down to eat when she saw a flash of blonde hair out of the corner of her eye, prompting her to look up and see Draco, wearing slightly less dressy clothes and a matching scowl.

“Hi,” she said, faltering under his gaze. He simply sniffed and entered the kitchen, floating over to the kettle and looking inside of it. Unsatisfied with the contents, he changed the water and placed it on the stove.

“This is my father,” Y/N attempted again. “He just got back from Australia on business.”

The two made brief eye contact and her father grunted in acknowledgement. Draco seemed wholly unimpressed and sent Y/N a “I told you so” look that made her want to get up and slap him. She stood up and forcefully stacked her dishes in the sink, turning around before she completely left the room.

“I’ll be ready in 10,”

final a/n: i’m still kinda swamped with work tbh and i don’t think it’s very fair of me to expect to get out anymore work than what i had going at the beginning of the month, but i’m hoping that once january begins, i can start writing more often. i know i promised a dramione fic that’s based in the fall but i’m not sure if i’ll have the time to do that...maybe once i’m in university? i apologize for any of the typos i may have made in here, i don’t have the time to proofread and just wanted to get something out to prove to you all that i’m not dead. love youuuuuuuu

[tammyhybrid21]

On Villain Impact

SO, Guess who just rewatched UP so that I could further expand on the tea brought up in the post that ask prompted! I mean, and some general comparison moments... with plot and tone and the possible inspirations... BUT--

We're not here to explore Paradise Falls today!

So let's take this in parts so I can give each villain(and one bonus) their dues. Starting with the Pixar villain who first traumatized me in 2009.

Charles Muntz

Sooo first of all, this guy is terrifying.

Like, out of all the villains I'm here to talk about, Muntz has reached that point that there's just... something wrong and broken by the time he actually shows up on screen in his movie. Well, not his movie but-- By the time we meet him, isolation has done a number along with his single minded focus on his goal.

Muntz is... not in a good state of mind AT ALL.

BUT--

I kind of want to take it back for a moment to what triggered this. Because here's the tea-- As we see, throughout the movie with Russel and Kevin, Muntz's find was real. Birb still around even. That skeleton he displayed-- and yet--

They decried it as fake. Something he fabricated. Which hello, here's some of my related tea-- Again, this is basically that whole-- issue of if it doesn't fit with known facts, along with some of the other issues regarding the palaeontology community in general that is-- not quite the same, but--

I have many, many dinosaur issues and some of them come from how long it took people to accept feathered dinosaurs, to the fact that there has been multiple cases of evidence that dinosaurs went extinct much more recently than what we're taught in schools(middle ages, medieval art and designs and just argh--), that are just-- REJECTED. Which even included a report about still images, art and designs that are very dinosaur in nature. Or hell, the comparison of dragon legends to how dinosaur skulls and appearances are--

Not to mention there have been and are still fiascos about dinosaur bones and the whole marrow and blood cells discovered in them. Which instead of maybe assuming that means they're younger than previously assumed they're assuming that means that decay rates are off, which... yeah sure. I don't really have a degree on that, but it sounds wrong when decay has more clear and obvious examples that have been more clearly witnessed, studied-- I mean there's a whole STUDY on decay--

BUT I'M NOT AN EXPERT AND THE EARTH HAS TO BE--

Anyway-- Fossils and bones have-- such a HUGE mess. From exhibits going missing, discoveries passed over time and time again because is "doesn't fit" what was previously know, there's a whole documentary that's one guy trying to explain how there's evidence of specific species actually just being sexual dimorphism and differences in age of just one species and being mocked by the rest of the community for that view--

You know fascinating stuff--

Among other things, like I remember so clearly a documentary that used to be around where they talked about a dig site where there were modern animals preserved with animals from so, so long ago-- along with trying to explain how the very existence of Dinosaur bones and fossils proved that the Great Worldwide Flood happened.

Which-- honestly on the flood, just look at how pretty much every culture has a Great Flood story and that's already proven that something happened. WHICH is all beside the point--

But this-- THIS--

Do you know how much this happens, happened, and still probably will happen in the future?! I mean shit-- people thought the KANGAROO was FAKE NEWS once upon a time. Among-- many other of Australia's animals... also like-- think about weird animals from your own country and imagine in the olden days, sure people could travel, but that didn't mean everyone would or could and just--

How many animals sound fake but then you see them?!

In any case, there's just a very subtle background flow to this movie in that ultimately, the TRUE villains hidden in the story are the Archaeology & Palaeontology communities. Scientists.

--

Which yeah, deviation from the main point of this post, so now that we have that background detail and rant. What impact does Muntz have as a villain. Well... very clearly he's terrifying. Like, I don't think I can overstate how much I was FREAKED OUT as a baby 11 year old seeing this movie for the first time, with exaggerated memories of fire and trauma and all-- and just-- Muntz is a Pixar villain.

Which yeah--

I don't actually really have to say much in regards to how he lingers and his presence is felt all through how the movie unfolds. Even from before this reveal-- there's that sense of wrongness when you're paying attention and you just think about how the dogs act.

And well-- there's something to be stated about this scene... and how it serves as a good lead in to the next villain I would like to talk about-- But for now...

Muntz' degeneration here is subtle. Traitors, liars, people after his discovery... and some serious isolation induced paranoia.

But the heart of his motivation is that long, long ago disgrace. It's been YEARS, of hunting and trying to find the one thing. Carl's entire lifetime from childhood. His entire goal-- and what a hell of a broken pedestal that creates... but arguably, he's from a somewhat tragic perspective when you actually think how fundamentally broken he's fallen when examining the facts.

From a lauded explorer-- adventurer... to this.

Fearing and calling anyone he meets liars.

Max Mordon

Soooo before anyone says that was an abrupt-- I think that this is the PERFECT place to transition over. Because the one immediately there is... some DRASTIC contrasts between these two, despite well. Some small similar vibes to generals.

Like seriously...

Not precisely the same... but like-- Brown hair, blue eyes... and the general frame of his hair style. Max just missed some of the points and has no moustache or anything. BUT--

Max is also in direct contrast in regards to motivations. At least to the prior villain of Muntz. BUT-- Max is kind of literally the kind of people that Muntz was paranoid about. Which isn't really played for subtly in the movie, which is unfortunate, but to be fair that's a hard thing to play subtle and with all the tropes we've been exposed to nowadays-- BUT--

Max basically fell into the trap of, pedestal to break, along with what I kind of call Scooby logic, in how his presentation gave him away as a villain. And also all the older mentor characters disapproving of him.

Basically he was doomed from the framing.

Which-- isn't really the movie's fault, and in the end I would argue it actually plays to his favour to be so obvious.

Sooo I can also actually focus on other things instead of the fact we all know! Like how THERE'S just... so, so much I could say about Tad's reactions to Max throughout the movie. But that will probably take away from the focus of this rant/analysis. BUT-- Yeah, Max is set up as pretty obviously trouble to EVERYONE but the main characters.

Which... I do have opinions for another rant about how Sara would have in any other context probably noticed his fake sooner-- but Max is... "media circus" and archaeology... and more really his pursuit is-- really, really straight forwards in the context of the movie and even the greater scope.

Max is after immortality, power, and prestige. Puts great pride on his title and claim to be the "Greatest explorer". And much unlike Muntz there is no sign of ANYTHING tragic or forgiving in his background. He wasn't screwed over by the system, rather he's here using the system to screw others other.

ALSO--

Max is savvy as anything.

Like-- I don't think people will quite understand my glee at how RUTHLESS this is. But in a similar vein to Muntz, Max isn't letting anything stand in the way of his goals. Not here-- directing the Odysseus to get rid of Freddy and Tad despite them ostensibly being "no threat", which yeah... not completely for Tad as later that comes back around-- BUT-- Max is just... SAVVY in that sense that he's not taking risks.

BUT then we also get him showing he's... really not as expert as he plays himself. Which sure, the Professor has studied for years, but still-- there's a kind of logic that's just-- well, in the Quipu room and even before entering the ruins... He's just-- not studied enough, or observing enough. Not without blind spots.

BUT--

I also want to for a moment just take a moment to have an aside on this:

I also don't know if this is something that people would notice. But-- when it comes to this moment, Max turns the tables... really quickly. Which half of that is just Mummy being kind of naïve himself here in this moment, like-- of all the decisions... but the other half is SOMETHING clicked in Max's mind on this--

But mostly I want to focus on that expression. He's so damn smug-- like he's got a plan, smug and smooth, ready to try and steal the advantage... and I have... opinions on other nuances that might be hiding in that smile. But-- well, it's just not something that can easily be covered all in this--

BUT

It's these two SIDES. And his clear motivation, that actually makes Max a really, really strong and interesting villain to speculate and think about. ALSO-- On the topic of my prior rant...

Max DEFINITELY is the kind of person who probably-- had the movie not unfolded as it did, just be likely to think Mummy was just "another discovery" and tool to use to boost his own reputation.

But as we all know-- ultimately it all came back down on him and backfired.

Jack Rackham

Is honestly the most bland and kind of... confusing almost part of The Secret of King Midas. Like, I almost get him, but then compared to Max, there's just... Nothing to really work with in terms of fanfiction for missing scenes, alternative takes on the universe and story-- and even for his basic motivation it feels like something is... missing or unexplained. Not quite paid off properly.

But then, a lot of things in the sequel kind of pan out in a weird way that I have... much to grumble on.

"So cute, the power of Midas goes way beyond wealth my dear"

"Midas' power, is the power of the GODS! The power to Rule the World!"

Aaaand then this feels like it doesn't actually get a proper explanation or framing or anything to explain what that even MEANS. It's kind of nebulous to how things pan out and unfold. Also, just in general for movie 2, we didn't see enough of Rackham for him to make a proper impact or landing...

Like, for all the world aside the romance subplot, Rackham's presence in this movie is the MOST FORCED THING. He just feels... incomplete, or like something is missing. And then worse, obligatory. With next to no impact aside a few expressions that only lead to more internal confusion and screaming because WHAT DOES THIS EVEN MEAN?! What was meant to be going on here?

And that stupid, stupid line--

Makes me wonder if there was some other factor supposed to be at play with the collar. Since honestly-- Just the touch of gold doesn't really speak highly to "the power of the gods".

Rackham... in comparison to Max is just-- so empty.

And again...

The last thing that just drives my confusion(along with a conspiracy based on framing, set pieces and other things) is this expression, and specifically who it's aimed at.

Bonus Tiffany & The Archaeological Community

So...

Hot take but-- Movie 2's villain should have been Tiff. Well, halfway anyway... And I have... already mostly ranted on the topic-- But not really enough to truly kind of get over my TRUE frustration. Which has now combined into how nebulous and almost... overloaded movie 2 feels the more I rewatch the rest of it.

BUT LIKE--

If there is one rule that we see time and time again when discoveries are made that challenge things. THEY ARE NOT ACCEPTED. People just like to think, to believe that we know the most about the past already. That there's a strict timeline to everything that happened. And if mythology and stories come into it-- Just for crying out loud--

The issue persists.

People denying anything that challenges the view already established. Up to and including the mishandling of archaeological digs and finds. Destruction of artefacts and we all know that the ones who get the brunt of it are the younger folks, those who're out of the "default" and well... ladies.

Which yeah-- not really surprising because sexism still stands and rings strong... but here...

DESPITE THE PAPYRUS BEING FOUND-- We didn't actually get to see the end result of that... And how it was taken beyond a giant presentation. There would have been authenticators-- people going over every INCH of that thing and then more-- so, so many people who would STILL call it fake.

Since we all know! Magic isn't real, myths didn't happen. So this must be some exaggerated story as well right?

WHICH ALSO-- Arguably this whole angle, the potential of the plot being just-- Driven by this-- It's more in line with the motives that are set up for Tiffany. The BIGGEST DISCOVERY in recent history. And also again, I can talk about some incomplete arcs, because this actually gives EVERYONE that little bit more room to breath.

Also serves as a bit more of a move on from movie 1 for Tadeo, first his hero(Max), wasn't all he appeared, and now-- the villain is okay, not exactly defined so much, more abstract in the community decrying the evidence. Denying-- Quite likely mishandling the papyrus since it can't really be what it claims.

Actually make the papyrus relevant, along with Sara's journal of notes on the project for more than one scene... and POSSIBLY EXPLAIN THAT LINE FROM RACKHAM.

Power of the Gods... and the mystery of Sara's kind of echo/response line to it.

“There are too many signs that the power of Midas shouldn’t be trifled with, I’m just saying that maybe the collar shouldn’t see the daylight”

We could have even still had that climax, just with some alterations, and let Tiffany come full circle in the theming. Set up and payoff, with even the legend being mirrored. But anyway... yeah.

Just in general, the villains most effective here are the ones who give us more than just that surface level empty sense. That have presence that's felt and echoes throughout the whole MOVIE and story. Which is definitely Muntz and Max, without them something is fundamentally lost.

Meanwhile Rackham is there, but he feels obligatory, without a proper explanation and if you removed him--

Tiffany could have become a mirror to Muntz in a similar way to Max-- BUT also much closer. She's set up PERFECTLY for it as well. Her adoration and eagerness, that bright hope yet. And it would be so easy to still have the main beats be the same-- Without much of an issue of the plot push either.

Rackham's sense of presence in the movie is so... dismal anyway--

And as for that climax. Well, you have to prove every aspect right?

BUT then it wouldn't make sense for Tadeo to make any kind of sacrifice there. To come full circle, it would need to be Tiffany. And the collar ACTUALLY could be sacrificed like in the legend and Tad first assumed.

[romolite]

*Important FAQ*

Aka questions that pertain to what I usually post about or stuff I don’t like getting asks about but continue to get asks about regardless.

[Insert any invasive question about my ethnicity/race]

I’m Ghanaian American. My parents were born in Ghana and I was born here in the US. I’ve seen it more on twitter and tumblr, but Black Africans don’t like me because I’m American, and black Americans don’t like me because I’m African. So I’m stuck in the middle lmao. I’m what you’d consider a First-Generation African, my parents are Continental Africans, and if I have children, they will be considered Generational African Americans.

First Generation African: A black person born in the US to parents who were born in Africa

Generational African American: A black person born in the US to US-born black parent(s)

Continental African: A black person born in Africa to parents who were also born in Africa

Non is just a prefix, black people don’t have a monopoly on the term! I suppose you think nonbinary people are racist huh?

Yeah sure it wasnt coined by black people but the context it’s currently used as was predominantly used by black people. ALL people who are not black benefit from and contribute to antiblackness, even if they are marginalized themselves. That kind of dynamic doesnt exist in other contexts (unless we’re talking about transfem + transmisogyny, but that’s something you’d have to talk to someone who is transfem about. Plus they have their own word for  “non-transfem”). Using it in contexts outside of antiblackness is appropriative (Yall are annoying as fuck with the “non-aspec” “non-lesbian”(this term also has anti-bi roots btw) “non-bi” shit etc, stop it. You also can’t complain about the “replacement terms” lumping yall with oppressors when “non-x” does the exact same thing you’re so worried about. “Cis” puts cis gays with cis hets, cis disabled people with cis abled people, cis white people with cis poc, I could go on.) 

Plus we’re talking about marginalized groups here. Black people are a marginalized group. Binary people as a whole are not so the term nonbinary isn’t appropriate at all.  I dont take issue with terms like “nonamerican” or “nonwhite” because (obviously) whites + americans as a whole aren’t oppressed for being white or american.

Basically using "non-x” in contexts to talk about oppression bad, everything else good.

Follow up: If we can’t use non-[marginalized group], what can we use instead?

There are other words to describe the people you’re talking about

non-transfem- TME

non-LGBT- cishet, or people who aren’t LGBT

non-trans - cis

Black people don’t have a monopoly on the acronym nb! I’ll call myself nb if I want to!

At this point I dont really care, go on your antiblack crusade elsewhere and out of my inbox, I’m always gonna mean nonblack when I use the acronym nb. 

And yes, you’re antiblack as fuck if you think black people telling you “nb” stands for “nonblack” is the same as exclusionists claiming “aspec” is for autistic people.

Is x AAVE?

I have a tag dedicated to what is and is not aave and how harmful it is for nonblacks to use aave given its history. I know some things overlap with southern culture but others are specifically for black people. A lot of “stan twitter” language/slang is just repackaged AAVE. No, I can’t tell you how to stop using AAVE. Don’t tell me you’re going to try to stop using AAVE, I don’t want to hear it.

Why don’t you like the n-word being compared to LGBT slurs?

Race and Sexuality/Gender aren’t comparable topics because each deals with a different history of oppression. I don’t care about slur discourse that much because I don’t even use/reclaim any myself except the n-word.

I have a problem with nonblack LGBT people co-opting black culture and struggle(like they always do), especially for trivial online discourse.

And to be honest it goes deeper than slur discourse. Every other day someone is weaponizing the oppression of black trans women, or comparing “cishet aces/aros” in the LGBT community to white/nonblack people invading black spaces (you know, something that ACTUALLY takes resources away from the people who need it, see the cultural appropriation of Black African and Blac American culture in literally any nonblack community while black people get demonized for said culture), or tokenizing their black friends to get away with something blatantly racist. And that’s not even getting into how a lot of gay slang/stan culture is just repurposed AAVE/black culture.

And I’m not gonna lie, I’ve seen this more with exclusionist accounts than inclus accounts, but it’s still not excusable for inclus to do that either. We get erased as black gay/trans/queer/aspec people up until it’s time for discourse accounts to bring us up to one-up each other

Can you give me advice on x?

Most likely not, because I’m not an expert or an advice blog. I’ll try, but don't take my word for it. I’m also tme, able-bodied, not Jewish, singlet, etc, so I’m not able to accurately answer questions about transmisogyny, (physical?) ableism, antisemitism, “sycourse”, etc.

I might be able to give advice on school-related stuff since I just graduated high school, but remember that students are not a monolith, and what worked for me may not work for someone else.

Can I follow if I’m nonblack/a minor/cishet?

Nonblack and/or cishet can follow but watch your step, minors blacklist the #minors dni tag before following

Why do you hate Ao3?

*long sigh*

I don't, I have a problem with the fact that it allows racist and (frankly voyeuristic) pedophilic/abusive/incestuous content to exist on its platform. It’s a good concept overall, but the devs are complicit in allowing “underage” and “noncon/dubcon” fics on their platform.

And there's the fact that they somehow need donations every year despite exceeding their goal several times over each year?

What’s wrong with Hazbin Hotel/The Ships/Vivziepop?

[WIP, as I have to go into extensive detail about this and I currently don’t have the energy for it]

TLDR: Viv made a half-assed apology for supporting racists (one of whom did blackface [yes the mask was used to do blackface shut up] to mock black activist) and drawing gross content. Her current projects including Hazbin Hotel are full of anti-gay/trans/aspec (Angel Dust, Vaggie, Alastor), antisemetic (Mimzy), and racist (Vaggie again, that yellow cyclops character that I’ve forgotten the name of) content under the guise of humor. If you’re into that shit, whatever, just don’t follow me and don’t whine when I make posts criticizing it.

What’s wrong with Hamilton?

Aside from the fact that it’s very obviously glorifying slave owners and made people worldwide believe the founding fathers were good people, LMM, the creator, is nonblack. This isn't his story to tell at all. 

Can you tag x?

I have a list of things I usually tag because they come upon this blog a lot. I cannot do catch all tags, as I have way too many followers for that. The closest thing to that is the “ask to tag” tag when there’s something potentially triggering but I’m not sure what it is. Everything is tagged as “x tw”. If something is extremely triggering, I’ll tag it as “major tw”

Do you tag slurs?

I tag slurs I’m not able to reclaim at all (i.e., d slur, f slur, t slur) or slurs I can reclaim but are being used as a slurs. I don’t tag the n-word, as I reclaim that one. I always tag the r slur

Can I message you about something/someone?

Unless you’re a mutual, most likely no. My DMs are only open to mutuals.

Do you want to be mutuals?

I don’t usually follow back people who follow me, especially if you’re under 16 or post things I’m not interested in.

Why is it important to have byf or about?

1) So I know gross people aren’t following me. This is not up for discussion

2) So I know someone’s not speaking out of their lane, which tends to happen a lot. (i.e, someone refusing to disclose that they are tme when discussing transmisogyny, someone not having their race listed when discussing racism)

3) Some people don’t want to interact with people under 18 or over like 30 or something.

Yeah, yeah, people aren’t entitled to personal information and all that crap but I have a serious problem with people speaking on topics from a place of privilege. Not to say they can’t talk about those things, just perhaps add a disclaimer that you’re privileged when talking about these things and be open to criticism, and NOT blocking people of the said marginalized group when they tell you something you’ve said was problematic.

I also have a problem with people who are intentionally vague about their age. There’s a difference between interacting with someone who’s 20 and someone who’s 29. I don’t want to say it’s the opposite for minors but at the same time there’s a difference for saying something racist at 13 and doing so at 17, and keeping your age vague makes it harder to determine how to deal with something like that. (Not that 13-year-olds shouldn’t know better, it’s just I don’t feel whole ass callout posts and receipt blogs are necessary for someone of that age).

Also anyone under 16, I can't stop you from following, but keep your interaction limited, please. This isnt an 18+ blog but I do rb suggestive jokes from time to time

I sent you an ask and you never answered it!

It’s likely that

I never got it

You were blocked

I’ve already answered this or it’s been answered in my faq

It’s a random positivity ask (which I appreciate but not sure how to respond to those)

You were rude in your ask and I didn’t feel like answering

I forgot until it was too late, which happens when my inbox gets a lot of asks at a time.

You sent it to the wrong blog (I.e, sending asks about my ocs to this blog instead of @ochood )

Hey, the op is [insert post] is [someone on my dni]! I usually double-check myself, just to be sure.

Have you heard about [someone who is mutuals with someone I’m loosely connected with]?

Most likely, no. And unless they’re an immediate danger to someone or they’ve got my name in their mouth, I don’t care.

Do you know who [x person/group/thing] is?Most likely no. Not to sound like a hipster but I don't usually keep up to date with trends. If I do hear about something, it’s most likely from twitter or Instagram.

Why am I blocked? Check here.

Why do you continuously move mains/change URLs/update themes?

I’m inconsistent. And sometimes there are posts on my blog that I no longer stand by.

Can I tag you in posts I think I’d like?Of course! 

[silyabeeodess]

Hey, Fusion Fellas: As heartbroken as many of us still are over the DMCA shutdown, it’s nice to see so many fans of the game continue to carry on in whatever way they can.  I’ve kept up with whatever news appears as much as I can, seeing the news spread and more people come together to find ways to enjoy something that was such a big part of their childhoods.  There’s some stuff I’d like to say, regarding my personal thoughts and what I plan to do since I know some of you follow me for my fanwork of the game.  The first half is largely negative so, if you like, you can skip over that: I’ll have things written in bold to mark where this starts and breaks off.  

I’m still angry at CN.  I know about the guy spreading lies to the network and I understand that they have to protect their IP.  That’s not what I have a problem with.  What I have a problem with is a multi-million dollar company targeting a harmless, fan project over a piece of their IP that they themselves have confessed they aren’t planning on doing anything with--effectively keeping it vaulted where no one is allowed to touch it: Targeting a group of devoted fans who’ve shown more love and care for this franchise and the fanbase (along with the shows its attached to) than their own hired creatives have.  Beyond a matter of law, this is a matter of respect--and CN has lost all of mine. 

Take a game like Undertale and its creator, Toby Fox.  You have a small team making a game that boomed in popularity, similar to FusionFall back in its hay-day.  The difference is people can still buy UT and the game continues through the AU that is Deltarune while there’s no possible way for fans of FusionFall to ever experience it without a server.  So how do these two separate creators--Toby Fox and CN--react to their fans?  Toby Fox says, “Hey fans!  Go make your fanart!  Make your fan games, so long as you don’t try to make money off of it.  You can even make your more mature content, just please tag it separately from the game’s official title.”  Here, you have someone at greater risk of financial loss; understanding that what the fans create, they create out of love; giving as much allowance as he can to the people that enjoy what he started.  Cartoon Network?  “Yes, we know you love this game and although we’re never going to touch it again, you can’t either. How about you watch our awful reboots instead?  We know you didn’t want them and that you don’t like them, so we’ll be sure to call you names and spit on you if you have anything negative to say about us.  Because we don’t actually care about you.” This is a company that doesn’t think of its fans beyond the dollar signs they see attached to them. The fact that they’ve apparently only addressed one person over the course of weeks despite the countless emails and messages sent to them regarding FusionFall is also terrible--like they’re waiting for people to give up so the whole issue can be swept under the rug, like they think we’ll simply forget.

That post I made before about this?  I still mean it.  Cartoon Network doesn’t respect us, so why would I want to support them? Moneygrubbing, Hollywood empire Disney has shown a better attitude toward people than CN has as of late--and I can’t stand a large bulk of what Disney’s done over the past several years!  Everyone can make their own choice regarding the company--I’m not calling for a boycott--but I’ve stopped watching their shows and I’ve cancelled my plans for purchases I was going to make for their newer merchandise.  Even if I could make a few exceptions for them, their behavior overall is too horrible for me to want to give them so much as a dime of ad revenue from watching a video.

Because of this, I’ll be perfectly honest, I don’t even feel like making fanart anymore or writing the headcanon posts I’ve been covering.  I’ve enjoyed them, but they have been always solely for fun and it’s hard to want to make anything when all that’s happened is on the forefront of my mind.  Part of what makes it so hard on a personal level is that I loved what Cartoon Network used to be--and admittedly does still exist in small fragments of their content now. The creatives that wanted to push the envelope for animation and storytelling: Not the trash banking on old shows and jokes that were dated the moment they uttered them in hopes of getting a cheap laugh because there’s nothing better on TV.  (Not even realizing how doomed for failure they are as things move toward streaming because then people can shift through the garbage that much easier.)  When I was a kid, I watched the PPG on a regular basis and Numbuh 5 from KND was the person I wanted to be.  In middle school, I planned my afternoon schedule around episodes of Total Drama Island and bounced on a trampoline while singing Are You CN This? like it was the top single of the year.  In high school, our theatre members’ turns backstage were shared watching Steven Universe.  Now, I feel nothing but bitterness and disappointment, like someone who’s lost a friend that changed for the worst.

So, how will this effect what I post?  I did have a bunch of stuff planned, but I keep going back and forth on what I want to do.  It’s hard to truly enjoy making stuff, as mentioned before, but at the same time I’ve never been one to drop anything easily (even if it takes me years to actually get something done, as some of you who follow me for other things already know.)  

Some of you may have noticed that I didn’t post a fic for last month’s prompt and haven’t posted any new prompts for this month.  I did start writing my story for April, but ended up leaving it hanging when everything hit. I don’t know about finishing it, and since I’ve been the only person working with the prompts from what I’ve seen, it seems pretty pointless.  Since I kinda began an arc with a few of them, I might try to at least wrap that up, but I just don’t know.

For the comic, since I already have some work done on what would’ve been the first chapter, I might go ahead and finish that.  (Just know that it’s several pages long, meaning it’ll still take some time to finish... and that you’ll need to be braced for wave of posts when its done.  It’s got about eleven pages now: I would have more done, but since I backtracked on the script to cover the tutorial rather than jump straight into a totally original plot as first intended, some of that stuff had to be put aside.)  Keep in mind thought that it really might be just that chapter.  Without the drive and with being so backed up on other projects--and since we don’t have the game to rely on for references as easily anymore--I just don’t know how long I could keep working on it.

With the headcanons, I could still do a fair amount of research to get those done, but it’s just not the same.  If I made more, the masterpost would still be updated; however, tags on the posts themselves would be limited to FusionFall rather than include the cartoons.  I don’t care about traffic: I don’t want any confusion from anyone thinking I’m supporting CN’s current work.  (Petty? Most likely, but at least there’s no question where I stand.)

Even if I don’t post as much FusionFall stuff, people are still free to send me asks about the game. So long as the asks follows the terms I’ve set up for my blog, it’s perfectly fine.  I’ll try to answer them as usual.  

Overall, at least for now, expect these posts to wane: Not dropped entirely, but definitely less frequent.  I’ve said it multiple times already: I just don’t know.  I’m upset that the game’s gone.  I’m upset at those involved for its shutdown.  I’m upset at those who don’t care about the fans and those who act like the fans are wrong for caring.  I’m upset at those in the community going at each other’s throats when people are trying to salvage the fanbase as much as they can.  The whole thing is just plain sad and I don’t feel like there’s much I can do except sit at my desk, pick up my pen, and push myself to do what I’ve always done: Focus on my work. 

[crazy-loca-blog]

Personal thoughts on… 2019 releases (Part II)

Note: As the title says, these are just personal opinions on Choices books and chapters. Of course, you may agree or disagree with them, I only use this platform to express my thoughts on what I read every week.

Welcome to the second part of this three-part post. As I said in the first post, I will include current releases and books that were released on 2018 but finished in 2019. The list is organized in alphabetical order and it doesn’t include the VIP Books (as I don’t have access to the feature) or the seasonal books (as I’ll talk about them in another post, after all of them have been fully released). You may see Part I here.

PS: I’ll do my best to upload Part III today (Dec. 31), but I can’t make any promises because I won’t be home on New Year’s eve.

Desire & Decorum, Book 3 (August 4, 2019 - December 1, 2019): This is the only wedding book that made real sense to me this year… and it’s definitely my favorite wedding book of the year. It was the perfect closure for a series that didn’t convince me that much at first, but that I learned to love over time. We had this whole new plot with Harry that was a little weak, but at the same time it was a smart move, as it helped to keep a balance and to not overcharge things with the wedding. But can we just talk about the final chapter? It was simply adorable, I loved every part of it (honestly, I haven’t heard of anyone complaining on the final chapter yet). If I have to criticize something, I’d say the writers went too far with Mr. Sinclaire. The man went through hell in the first two books, I thought they would give him a break in the third one… I was so wrong! But overall, I really liked this book, the new characters such as Harry, Briar’s mom and Hamid’s mom gave some fresh air to the story and new plots such as matchmaking Luke and Anabelle’s sister were a nice twist. I’m pretty happy with this book.  

High School Story: Class Act, Book 1 (October 8, 2018 - January 14, 2019): New cast, same school. I couldn’t actually say if I like or dislike this book more than the previous series because I actually feel it’s just impossible to compare them. The writers had a very difficult work to do, as they needed to make this cast different from the HSS one within the same environment, and I’d say they succeeded. Not only you can see the problems are different, but also the way they address their relationships is different, and it’s quite evident that they are younger kids that are transitioning into their teenage years more than teens thinking about graduating and going to college. We also went from this super popular MC and being prom king/queen to a MC who embarrasses himself/herself quite often and whose friends (except for Rory) are probably amongst the most unpopular kids in school. Finally, the fact that the story focuses in one specific school area (the theatre club) was a pretty smart move to not make this story a mess. So overall, it’s not one of my favorite books, but I enjoyed reading it and I appreciate the writers’ effort to make this series different from the first one.

High School Story: Class Act, Book 2 (February 11, 2019 - May 20, 2019): This is the theatre book where theatre is not seen anywhere. I’m not sure if this is the weakest book in the series (I think I still need to realize how Book 3 will end in a few weeks), but I admit I had to review the chapters’ summary because I couldn’t even remember what the book was about. The plot was simply lame, there are no big highlights in the story, we spent like half of it in the middle of a fight between Rory and our twin because they both want to be school president (can we talk about the fact that Maria is graduating?) and we appeared on TV. Our MC simply didn’t shine or did anything truly remarkable during this book. If it weren’t for Ajay’s parents’ divorce and the role our MC played on supporting his/her friend, this book would have been easily forgotten.  

High School Story: Class Act, Book 3 (October 30, 2019 - Present): Honestly, I’m not a fan of mixing both HSS gangs in Book 3. It feels weird not to be able to control a MC that I was able to manage in the past. I also understand all the hype for going to London, but did we really need as many people as we see in this book? Where are people like Natalie or Danielle? I mean, I don’t like them, but they’ve belonged to this group since day 1. Anyway… I’m guessing this is the way the writers found for us to say goodbye to this series. After six books, I think it’s the perfect time to put High School Story to rest for a while, before it becomes a mess. Even though there are some chapters left, I can already tell what my favorite thing about this book (and this series) is: the issues these kids have to face in their personal lives are serious stuff. In the past, Rory’s mom had cancer and Ajay’s parents got divorced, and now we talk about Skye coming from an abusive family and our twins trying to find their roots. That was enough. I don’t think we needed Rory and Ajay facing new problems in this book. Instead, I would have preferred to see Rory working with Maria or Ajay dealing with the fact that he became “the man of the house” after his parents’ divorce. The idea was to see them “growing” throughout the series; unfortunately, this hasn’t happened yet.

It Lives Beneath (October 10, 2018 - January 30, 2019): This is the only book in the list I haven’t read… and there is a very specific reason for it. When It Lives In The Woods was first released, I noticed that a lot of the screenshots people were posting included spiders… a lot of them. As an aracnophobic myself, I just couldn’t even begin the first chapter of that book. Then, It Lives Beneath was released and I noticed that there were some characters from the first book, so I said “mmm… maybe I do need to read the first book because it might be linked to the second one”, so I never read it. However, I have to agree with the fandom on the fact that we need more mystery and horror books in the app. Sure, I’m a sucker for romance books, but at the same time, I’m totally capable to understand that we need more diversity in terms of books. So I’m totally waiting for this series to be revisited in the future, the fans deserve it.  

Mother Of The Year (August 30, 2019 - Present): This God-tier book is one of those gifts that you don’t expect to be that nice, but it ends up being a treasure. It definitely climbed up in my personal list and went straight to the Top 2 of my favorite books in the app. Nobody had much hope on this story, but we ended up meeting an adorable daughter, a mom that was a warrior, three LIs that were simply adorable, one of the best BBFs that Choices has given us and Luz Mendez, probably one of the best characters in the app. Overall, the plot and the characters (even the evil ones!) were so real and relatable that I have to admit I went through every single possible feeling while reading the book… I laughed, I cried, I screamed, and I got mad at times. And of course, my heart broke when we realized that this was a standalone book. But do I really want it to become a series? I’m not that sure. There is a part of me who wouldn’t like to see a second book because the ending was so precious that I wouldn’t like it to be ruined with a second book. On the other hand, I love the story so much that it makes me sad to realize we won’t be getting anything new from these beautiful people. However, I think the story is perfect to make a Christmas or a Halloween special, focused on the kids… maybe even a summer book! This book definitely deserves to be revisited in the future.  

Nightbound (April 24, 2019 - July 31, 2019): I’m not surprised by the end of Nightbound, but I’m definitely sad. I had problems trying to understand the book at first because I’m not the type of person who’s into supernatural and magical stuff (I have to admit this also causes me some problems even when trying to understand the plots in books such as Bloodbound and The Elementalists, despite I think those are good series). I may even have to replay it to fully understand it. But there are some things that are pretty clear to me: the book is well written, the book is good, the book has awesome characters and most importantly, the book is DIFFERENT, something that this fandom has been asking for a long time now. So I was quite shocked when the writers said the book wasn’t doing as good as they thought. Does this book deserve a sequel? Absolutely! Even though I think it got a proper closure, I also think the plot has a lot of potential that could be explored. As that won’t be happening, I really hope to see some of these characters in Bloodblound 3, just as we saw Cal in Bloodbound 2.  

Open Heart (February 22, 2019 - June 7, 2019): Sorry, but right now I think my opinion will be completely biased because this is my absolute favorite book in the app. There’s just nothing I don’t love about it. The balance between the romance and the professional stories is one of the bests (if not the best) in the app, the characters are well written, the medical plot is interesting and it addresses many of the current conflicts in health care… it’s just a masterpiece. On the romantic side, it doesn’t matter if you go straight to Bryce or Jackie or if you preferred the slow burn with Rafael (actually, can he be considered a “slow burn”?) or Ethan, the writers took their time for the MC to befriend them, we got to deeply know these people (except for Bryce and Jackie… I’m so waiting to know more about them!) before making a choice, and not all of the romance stories ended up with happy endings and fairy tails, so yeah… it’s my perfect book. Can’t wait for the second one!

Passport to Romance (March 20, 2019 - June 19, 2019): Probably my biggest disappointment of the year. The idea behind this story seemed nice, we could have learned about so many places, we could have laughed about so many of the troubles that people travelling on a budget face, we could have had a series instead of a standalone book. Instead, we got a MC who was always late, who seemed to be quite irresponsible with her job, who lived a life of luxury and who suddenly became BFF with people he/she had just met. Come on, they were nice people (even though at some point I just wanted to make Elliot disappear), but again… we had just met, it’s not like you can’t live without them. On top of that, I can’t even remember how many times this gang violated some rules… sure, Yvette was happy, but it might have cost you an expulsion from Europe, which is not nice if you’re a travel blogger. Let’s add up the non-sense of some situations. I know that books are supposed to be a mix between fiction and reality, but I think they went too far this time. I mean… why would the coach allow Ahmed to travel with a group of strangers instead of travelling with the rest of the team? Especially if he’s a professional athlete and he’s competing in an important championship... sorry guys, but there’s nothing I can rescue from this book.

Platinum (May 30, 2019 - September 19, 2019): This is definitely one of my favorite stories this year, and sorry… but I will never get over the fact that this is a standalone book. This book is so unique in so many ways… for the first time, we heard voices and we heard people singing… we also got Avery and Raleigh, two LIs that were gender customizable… the secondary characters were gold… the plot was so cliché but so attractive at the same time… and I could continue. Reading it every week was a real pleasure, you were actually waiting to find out what would happen the next week, and at some point, it seemed like it was the only book that people talked about. However, creating this book was expensive, and well... that just sucks. It would have been so nice to see our MC touring with her friends, taking new risks, visiting new places, and receiving the rock star treatment that she deserved. This book still has a solid fanbase (especially in Tumblr), so it’s just sad it won’t be revisited in the future.