#this took so long to write. please enjoy
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The Rent Post™
aka, a lengthy screed on how rent the musical goes about adapting la boheme, where it fails, and what can be done about it
so i’m admittedly a reformed Theater Kid™. and tbh i still very much am a Theater Person, even a Musical Theater Person, i’m just in my 20s now and my taste has shifted away from what’s mainstream on broadway right now and closer to the world of opera. but there absolutely was a time in my early teens when i was Really Into Rent, as many Theater Kids™ were…and there was also a time in my later teens when i thought about it and realized that rent was not only just not my thing, but that there were some significant Problems with it, as its own work and as an adaptation. now, having finally seen boheme for myself, i feel like i’m really in a place to piece together how the two works compare to one another, and why/how i think rent falls short of success (as a piece of theater anyway. obviously rent is not lacking in commercial and popular audience success, for better or worse).
i knew years ago that rent is a direct adaptation of la boheme, but wow, only after seeing the opera did i come to realize just how closely rent follows boheme: in plot beats, in character names, even borrowing a couple of lyrics and musical motifs here and there.
but it also changes things from the original opera -- namely, it adds things -- and i think this is the first place where rent runs into trouble. now i am by no means such a purist that i think no work should ever be adapted unchanged (more on this later...what’s the point of adaptation if not to change things to make the work resonate with a new audience anyway?). however, any and every change made to an existing work in adaptation should be thoughtfully made and motivated, because every single change has an effect on the whole product in some way, and many small changes can add up to create a rather different final product than a creator might realize.
(and this goes both ways, i think -- both in a work where a more flawed source material is adapted into something new and better, and when a superior original work is adapted into a worse new creation.)
definitely some of the changes made in rent while adapting la boheme are due to the change in medium. opera and musicals are both theater, sure, and more similar in many ways to each other than either is to straight play or film perhaps, but it’s still like a spanish speaker and an italian speaker trying to have a conversation with one another. the languages are similar and there might even be a bit of crossover in mutual intelligibility but they are still ultimately two different languages with different grammars and vocabulary. opera in general tends to have slower pacing than book musicals, fewer plot threads of equal importance. that rent is specifically a musical adaptation of la boheme, rather than a true rock opera, demonstrates this well. the mimi/rodolfo relationship is still front and center (americanized of course as mimi and roger), with marcello and musetta close behind (though expanded in rent as more of a love triangle among mark, maureen, and joanne, the latter being an invented character for the musical who i think embodies the original marcello as much as mark does). but rent adds a lot of stage time and focus to a new couple, collins and angel, who are directly lifted from colline and schaunard, who are essentially secondary comic relief characters, whereas collins/angel are arguably as important plot wise to mimi/roger and mark/maureen/joanne.
(and i’m not gonna get into the level of #problematic there is to the depiction of maureen as an overly promiscuous bisexual or discuss why colline and schaunard can’t have been a gay couple the whole time or whatever because. wow i do not care. there are more important things to complain about here c’mon)
first big addition to rent that wasn’t original to boheme is that increased stage presence/focus for collins and angel. it's not inherently a bad addition, and for its time the open depiction of multiple queer romances onstage was still kind of groundbreaking. and yes, rent having a longer runtime than boheme should give it the opportunity to flesh this relationship out more as well as the other two to make sure they all have an equal chance to develop and end in a satisfying way. hell, they don’t even all have to be equal in stage presence/focus/importance to be a positive addition to the show (and how can it be when angel dies halfway through act ii? then again, the character dying doesn’t exactly mean the relationship loses its importance in the plot…) but despite the extra runtime and faster storytelling pace, rent doesn’t actually develop angel and collins all that much, especially not before angel dies. this isn’t an issue with colline and schaunard, of course, cause it’s obvious they’re not important characters in boheme. but collins and angel are arguably more important in rent than even mark/maureen/joanne. and angel dies halfway through act ii…meanwhile, mimi survives the end of rent, when she very pointedly does not in boheme.
and…oh, mimi. she is probably the biggest and most problematic adaptational change in rent as compared to la boheme. on the surface she (and roger/rodolfo) seems the least changed of all the opera’s characters, her name not even undergoing the same americanization treatment as the others. but there are just so many small details that add up and up until she’s a fundamentally different character in rent. i don’t even begrudge the change in occupation: her becoming a stripper/exotic dancer/possible sex worker(?) rather than a seamstress does bring with it some cultural baggage, but i am not personally interested in reading any morality into her choice of occupation, and i choose not to read her line of work as having any implications for her “innocence” or moral value as a character. nor will i read her addiction or disease as being moral qualities either. however: there is a big difference between tuberculosis in the 1840s and both AIDS and drug addiction in the 1980s. neither boheme’s mimi nor rent’s are morally responsible for their illnesses. but there is absolutely nothing mimi could do about her tuberculosis in boheme except die, because it was france in the 1840s and nobody knew what an antibiotic was. in new york in 1989, there were rehab clinics and there were medications for HIV. these things were expensive and hard to access, yes, but rent really goes out of its way to show us that mimi had the resources to access these things -- she is able to afford AZT in act i on her own (and the fact that she’s on AZT is used as shorthand for her HIV+ status, as opposed to other characters about whom we are told outright)...
… and her relationship with benny (the much-expanded counterpart to boheme’s benoit the landlord character) in act ii, who verbally offers to pay for her admittance to a rehab program.
yet the next time we see or hear anything of her, her loving mother is calling to ask where she is as she’s presumably gone missing…
…and then discover she has been living on the street, dying from exposure/disease/addiction.
did she do this willingly? did benny refuse to continue supporting her? we don’t really get an answer to any of this; rent isn’t really concerned with why mimi is in the position she’s in, but is rather entirely preoccupied with staying true to boheme -- up until mimi’s death, anyway. because mimi doesn’t die in rent, she is saved, and says that angel told her to keep on living (as though it were a choice). why? we can only speculate. really, if any character embodies the same “dying tragically in a world too cruel for them to survive” theme as mimi in boheme does, it’s angel. and her death is honestly used as a tool throughout the rest of the show: a purpose for kindness, community, life.
is this a bad “bury your gays” kind of thing? i don’t really know, i’m inclined to believe not. but i do think angel’s death is more thematically akin to mimi’s death in boheme than the actual (near-)death of mimi in rent.
and this is the biggest difference between rent and boheme: boheme is not about hope. boheme is a tragic romance about how important relationships are among people in disadvantaged communities/situations, but it does not say that love will transcend or materially improve those conditions. rent, by contrast, does. rent suggests that the love of partners and community (even if filled with complications and tensions) is lifesaving.
(and i know rent’s stated thesis is “no day but today,” i.e. live and enjoy every day as though it could be your last, but i think thematically all the characters and their interactions overall suggest a theme of community just as if not more strongly, whereas “no day but today” is more limited to the HIV+ characters and has little to do with the mark/maureen/joanne subplot. mimi's outlook on "no day but today" changes when she chooses to stay alive on the urging of angel from the other side.)
now i don’t think this is altogether a bad moral to have in your theater piece. especially in one of the first major pieces of theater centered on marginalized queer characters. i will not deny how important and cathartic it can be, both now and especially thirty years ago when rent premiered, to end on a hopeful note rather than a tragic one. but i have a couple of issues with how rent goes about making this its central theme. for one thing, mimi has frankly too many Things affecting her health in the end for her survival to be realistic, and absolutely nothing up to this point in the show has suggested a setting of magical realism or pseudofantasy; everything has been as grounded in real life as possible, until finale b, when mimi suddenly and near-inexplicably survives. it feels like it comes out of nowhere tonally and thus isn’t very satisfying an ending when put to scrutiny. for another, angel has already died, and angel is, compared to mimi, a much more beloved and uncomplicatedly positive force in their community and relationships. angel’s entire stage presence (while she’s alive and when her character is invoked or referenced after her death) is a positive one: caring for collins when he’s injured, providing food and funds to the group, placating arguments, etc.
and the fact that angel has no concerned parents leaving her voicemails, unlike mark, roger, and mimi, underscores that she has no one else to lean on for support except her community of bohemians. and we’re not given a reason to believe one way or the other about her home life or financial stability outside of today 4 u when she got a sudden windfall for killing a dog (whatever; schaunard did the same thing to the parrot in boheme). in contrast to mimi, roger, and especially mark, who are clearly shown to have family who care about them and want to support them, yet they choose to live in romanticized poverty anyway. mark even gets a good job in filming and still finds a way to complain about it.
really, except for angel (and arguably collins, too), it’s difficult to totally sympathize with the characters in rent and care fully about their plight because they’re just…not depicted as particularly likable people. maureen is an unfaithful and kind of manipulative partner, and her approach to “protest” is really just bad self-absorbed performance art. roger just kind of sucks at songwriting (how is your eyes the song that he’s spent the whole show writing? it’s the worst number in the musical lol), and he’s quick to anger…his decision to leave mimi makes even less sense here than rodolfo’s decision to leave her in boheme, where at least he did so out of genuine concern for her health (also why does he leave mark? rodolfo embraces marcello as a friend still after mimi leaves in boheme...act iii of boheme is the least closely adapted in rent by far.). wheras in rent roger seems to be both genuinely jealous of mimi interacting with other men and upset by her continued drug use. although this last one i don’t begrudge him for, since it’s made clear he’s a recovering addict himself…although it does make mimi’s relationship with him all the worse, considering that mimi’s take on the whole “no day but today” theme is to throw caution to the wind with her actions and not worry about the future at all, and her interacting with roger is directly tempting him back into addiction which he clearly does not want. (and roger’s rejection of her in another day is framed as him being in the wrong with mimi being backed up by the life support chorus…)
while mimi as we’ve seen is reckless and throws her life away even when people try to help her (very very different from boheme’s mimi, who makes no particularly reckless choices, and accepts help when it's offered). and mark is entitled and uses his film as an excuse to disengage with the real world, even exploit it (see: the way he films the life support meeting without permission, or the homeless woman, which is never really confronted elsewhere in the show…)
the inclusion of a homelessness subplot in rent is particularly strange to me. it shows up a lot, especially in act i: the threat of homelessness for the main characters should they not pay their rent or come to some kind of agreement with their landlord; the vague future threat of benny’s “cyberarts studio” getting built which is implied would evict those living in tents on the lot; mimi being found living on the street in the finale; and the chorus/ensemble who show up periodically, as above. homelessness is an ever present element of set dressing/conflict in rent but it’s never really addressed, no points are ever made about it, which is in my opinion kind of wild and very unsatisfying. the above scene especially, considering how direct of a callout it is towards the show’s own characters and writing, yet it is never addressed afterwards, and this conflict is never really resolved.
one could take similar issue with the choice to swap tuberculosis in boheme with AIDS in rent. though in my opinion i think addiction is as much as if not more rent’s analogue to boheme’s TB, since that is a much more acutely seen disease for mimi and only mimi while there are multiple characters (main and chorus) living with HIV…then again, angel is the character who gets the real tragic death analogous to mimi’s in boheme, and angel dies of complications from AIDS, so i suppose it’s open to debate. regardless, there’s a significant contextual difference between TB in the 1840s and HIV and addiction in the 1980s: there was no system, political, social, or medical, that could truly heal someone of tuberculosis in boheme’s setting. but there very much was a medical and social system in place to help people with HIV and addiction in the 1980s; systems which were aggressively denied to those who were suffering by the political system. and for as much as the characters in rent like to sing about revolution, protest, and activism, not a single one actually challenges the powers that be or call out by name those responsible for the systematic denial of healthcare to the marginalized. activism and artistic revolution is hollow and meaningless in rent, they never name a real enemy, just a vague sense of “the man.” but it’s a story set in a real and still recent historical time period, the effects of which we still deal with today (and i’m sure even more acutely so back in 1996); it just feels disrespectful to me to use those crises as such important set dressing for your musical which positions itself as a “fuck the man” revolutionary kind of piece of theater and yet do or say absolutely nothing about the real world issues it is appropriating. for more information i highly recommend checking out lindsay ellis’ video on the topic.
so is all this to say i think rent is an irredeemable, fundamentally broken work? actually, no; i think it has a decent foundation and some solid music. i understand the reasoning behind and appeal of updating an old work to a new time period/setting for a new audience, and i think trading 1840s paris for 1980s nyc is an interesting and workable substitution. but when i look at rent as it is now, i just do not see a finished product.
and i think this is the most frustrating and disappointing thing about rent to me: rent is, quite literally, an unfinished show. its composer and librettist, jonathan larson, died suddenly the day of its first preview performance. and for so many developing (off-)broadway shows, previews are when the actual finished product is crafted, as the show is revised based on audience reactions. of course audience and critical reception to rent from the very beginning was positive, but i can’t help but speculate how much of that is influenced by the mere fact of its creator’s untimely death. and i wonder what changes larson would have made to his show if he had lived, and been able to hear the audience’s reactions, and revise the show accordingly. i wonder if he would have thought it worked. i wonder if he would have seen the same cracks that i see in it. i don’t think rent is inherently unsalvageable, but it is so far unsalvaged.
and frankly i don’t know that it ever will be salvaged; not for many years, at least. not until copyright and licensing in musical theater changes, and not until broadway audiences get more comfortable with the idea of altering beloved and familiar classics (the 2019 revival of oklahoma! was, in my opinion, a work of genius, but i’m well aware my opinion is not universal, and especially during its national tour the show’s entire concept has been extremely controversial). do to rent what bartlett sher and aaron sorkin are doing to camelot right now: keep the heart and soul of the piece intact, but rewrite what doesn’t work. or do something even more drastic, cut subplots and change character traits, i don’t know. maybe mimi should die; maybe it really is important that she survive! maybe rent shouldn’t have been based on boheme at all; hell, what would rent look like if it was based on la traviata instead? (well the answer to this one is “a different show entirely,” most likely, but if you want to write a poignant and tragic love story based on a romantic opera and set in 1980s nyc featuring queer and/or HIV+ characters, well…it could work and i’ll leave it there.) maybe that’s going too far, i don’t know, but the point is, i want to see directors and writers have the freedom to try that stuff out. because i don’t think rent is unsalvageable; i think it’s unfinished.
but rent is far too popular and beloved for anyone to dare touch its libretto with new ink. the memory of jonathan larson is held far too preciously for anyone to allow such debasement of his work. when searching online for libretti to reference when writing this essay, i found one transcribed script with this at its heading:
and i think that about sums it up for me. “may he be friggen worshiped!” him and all his creations, holy and untouchable. it’d be tantamount to theater sacrilege at this point to try and change it. how dare you sully larson’s good name by thinking you could “fix” his masterpiece…the masterpiece no one wants to admit he never got to actually finish. well, i don’t know, maybe it’s me being jewish and sentimental here, but if i have enough respect for a piece of work i want to be able to engage with it and question it and interpret it as i think it best ought to be. (jonathan larson was also jewish. would he agree with me? i don’t know. but i think he’d want to see the best of his work, just like i do.) live theater is inherently participatory and dialectical. and it ought to be alive, not carved into stone. neither immovable nor under threat of utter annihilation should someone come too close with a chisel. rent has potential. la boheme is still as affecting today as it was a hundred thirty years ago (did you know rent premiered almost exactly a hundred years after la boheme?). rent could be the same. and it does have emotionality behind it as it is now, credit where credit’s due. but it could be more than just that. if we could just let someone finish the thing already, even if larson himself couldn’t.
#sasha reviews#rent#<- afraid of putting this in the tag. rent fans please be cool. just scroll past this if you don't wanna see me being critical ;;#la boheme#this took so long to write. please enjoy#tldr; rent isn't irredeemable or unworkable but it is unfinished#i think it ought to either just let itself be closer to boheme (the 'keep it simple stupid' approach)#or let itself stray from that source material more and give each of its subplots the full attention it deserves (and needs)#(and maybe cut one or two of them...)#and be more of its own thing already#i don't know. who knows what would work best? no one does. cause no one's tried it yet. that's the bottom line i guess
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On Kurapika's Self-Imposed Isolation
While I recognize that probably everything I'm about to say is going to be super obvious, I just wanted to briefly touch on Kurapika's self-isolation, and the reason behind his not picking up his phone or exchanging anything more than clipped words and business after Yorknew.
I think the obvious answer is that Kurapika doesn't want his friends in harms way, or to be used as a bargaining tool against him. This is an understandable and probably accurate conclusion. After all, Gon and Killua did get taken hostage, and Kurapika was forced to negotiate an exchange. Chrollo picked up on Kurapika's "weakness" right away - that he values his friends' safety before his revenge. Fortunately for Kurapika in this situation, Pakunoda was a whole lot more similar to him than he would've cared to admit, as she placed a value on Chrollo's life even though everyone in the Spider was intended to be replaceable. So, now that he's been through Gon and Killua having potentially gotten killed or seriously hurt, and Chrollo knows that he has a soft spot for them, it does make sense that he would try to push them away for their safety and for the sake of not having an exploitable "weakness" in future. He may also not want to burden them more when they have their own lives to live - he does slip off without telling Gon and Killua for the sake of not distracting them from Nen training, after all.
Except that he already tried all this earlier in Yorknew arc. He tried to tell them they shouldn't get involved, and they all agreed that the risks were massive - but his friends agreed to undergo the risks anyways to help him. Kurapika was even grateful for it - "I have been blessed with good friends."
So, for him to push them away solely for this reason after the fact, knowing that this was very much a likely situation to happen, is a little odd to me. Kurapika knows full well that Leorio would be frustrated, Killua would be offended and Gon would worry. So, I think there's a little more to it than that, and I actually would venture to say that "keeping his friends out of danger" is more a secondary reason for his actions - one that would come across as more of a reasonable excuse to others.
The primary reason is likely a lot more selfish than that. Kurapika has to ensure his mission comes first. And unfortunately, he is fully aware that his path and choice in abilities is deeply self-destructive.
Kurapika needs to make sure that he doesn't have exploitable weaknesses, sure, but he also just as much needs to purposefully worsen his headspace - and he can't do that with those three around.
Think back, what are the happiest moments we see from Kurapika in the series? The one that comes to mind first, and the one I'm sure most of us will think of immediately, is this:
[ID: A screenshot from the 2011 anime adaptation. Kurapika smiles - he looks at ease. End ID.]
It's one of the sweetest scenes of the series imo, right before the whole group is reunited for the first time since the Zoldyck Family arc, and it's even more notable because it comes immediately on the tail end of this...
[ID: Three panels from HxH Chapter 101. Kurapika removes his contacts over the sink. His expression is distant. End ID.]
...and this...
[ID: A panel from HxH Chapter 101. A close up of Kurapika's vacant and furious expression, his eyes wide and dangerous as he says "It might as well be you." Though the art is in black and white, it's apparent his eyes have gone scarlet. End ID.]
...and this.
[ID: A panel from HxH Chapter 101. A distant Kurapika speaks on the phone on a rooftop at night, the cityscape of Yorknew around him dark, but speckled with lights and stars. He says "The Spiders are dead." His face is not visible to the reader. End ID.]
This is, up to this point in the series, Kurapika at his lowest. In contrast to Gon, who is happy to hear that the Spiders are dead already because now Kurapika can focus solely on finding his peoples' eyes, Kurapika... is clearly not happy - and that's because killing the Spiders himself isn't just revenge. It's penance. It's survivor's guilt. Kurapika's powers, which Izunavi even comments sound much like he is chaining himself in the process of chaining his enemies, are oh-so-beautifully prophecied to destroy him - and Kurapika was aware of this from the moment he set off down this path of revenge.
(As a side note, this is why I'm really hoping we see Gon and Kurapika interact again after the Chimera Ant arc - while Gon has always been pretty attentive to Kurapika's emotional state, in Yorknew, he lacks a true understanding of why Kurapika would go so far... but as of now, he understands rage fueled by guilt and grief all too well. I know we're all rooting for Leorio to reach Kurapika, but barring that, I really think Gon could get through to him - after all, they are similar in several ways, and I find it fairly apparent that Gon reminds Kurapika of Pairo.)
But back to the main point here - I do suspect Kurapika expects (if not wants) his revenge mission to destroy him. I think a lot of times, we forget just how young Kurapika is, and how much his character is dictated by honour, and the abandonment of it.
Certainly, he can and will go against his principles for the sake of his mission... yet, almost paradoxically, he's bound to his promise to his fallen clan; a promise to avenge them made in anger.
But Kurapika... doesn't come across as a naturally angry person to me at all.
He seems like the stoic, vengeful type on his initial introduction... and then we get his panic at Gon's recklessness
[ID: A panel from HxH Chapter 2. Kurapika and Leorio wear matching expressions of panic in front of Gon, calling him out for his recklessness. End ID.]
...and his near-immediate forgiveness of Leorio after getting the first inkling of his character - of someone who cares just as fiercely as he does.
And after that point? Almost all through the Hunter Exam? Kurapika smiles so readily at them. He's sharp and funny. He mediates at times, but is stubbornly prideful in others. He's very amused by his friends' antics, and it really does seem like he starts to enjoy himself, with them. And, more than that, he counters Leorio's initial impression of him as an independent loner - on several occasions. He decides to follow Gon because Gon intrigues him. Asides from Gon, it is Kurapika who is the most unwilling to fight each other at the bottom of Trick Tower. Kurapika who makes the first move to team up with Leorio, even though that arrangement benefits Leorio much more than it does him. Kurapika who refuses to abandon Leorio to his fate in the cave, and who checks on Gon after noticing his bad mood. Who was furious enough watching him get beat down by Hanzo that his eyes went scarlet for the first and only instance outside of Spider mentions and Emperor Time. Who quite readily detoured to help rescue Killua.
[ID: Three screenshots from the 2011 adaptation Hunter Exam arc. In the first, Kurapika smiles at a sleeping Leorio. In the second, Kurapika stifles laughter as he pretends he's asleep. In the third, Kurapika has an open-mouthed smile as he acquires the airship tickets for them, Leorio and Gon standing behind him. End ID.]
Look at him! He's so bright! So happy!
...too happy. Too happy to do what he promised himself he would do. And that's his biggest fear, isn't it. Without his rage... what is he left with?
[ID: A panel from HxH chapter 2. A close up of Kurapika's eye as he says "I do not fear death. What I fear is that my rage will one day fade away." End ID.]
Kurapika is far, far less mired in anger when he's with his friends. I actually dare to say that at certain points, he was able to go for lengths of time without thinking much about it - alternating between almost forgetting in one instance and being hit like a sledgehammer on exposure to a reminder in the next. This violent swing is... actually the beginnings of the natural process of healing from loss and trauma. But to Kurapika, who's made a promise to his people's memories, this is not a relief. This is betrayal.
I think that actually scares him, that he can almost picture it. A life beyond his guilt. That he, too, could learn to be happy, even after unimaginable loss.
And so, as Kurapika continues his mission offscreen, finding more and more gruesome reminders of the cruelty inflicted on his people and losing more and more pieces of himself in the process (in his own words, no less), he prioritizes his responsibility to them, and pushes away his distractions. He cannot be a soul at peace until his work is done; he must be in turmoil. He pushes people away who he cares for, and binds himself, and keeps his people's eyes on him, quite literally, because respite, for him, is unacceptable. Perhaps that guilty part of him even hopes, by the end of this, that his soul will be so unrecognizable as to be fundamentally unsalvageable. But the truth of the matter is, or at least what comes across to me, is that Kurapika cares much more fiercely than he hates. He knows what matters most. And for as long as he does, he still hasn't truly lost himself.
[ID: A panel from HxH chapter 350. Kurapika looks down at baby Woble with a gentle, yet complicated expression. The inking is somewhat softer. End ID.]
Kurapika's soul is kind, really. And it wants to heal - but for the sake of his mission, he needs it damaged and bleeding. And so, he forces himself to exist in that pain. All alone.
[ID: A panel from HxH Chapter 344. Kurapika, dressed in a black suit, sits with his back to the reader, looking down at a photo in his hand. He is slumped a little before the church vigil he has prepared, all his clan's eyes lined up in their jars and honoured with flowers and candles. He thinks to himself "There is no home for me to return to... and nobody to welcome me back. I have nothing left." End ID.]
#thank you for coming to my ted talk on how kurapika is worsening his own mental health as well as physical health on purpose have a good day#oh my god this took me so long but it was worth it!!!#actual analysis!!! it's been so long!!!#anyways i'm far shakier on my hxh knowledge than other fandoms i've written meta for#so i hope this makes sense. i appreciate additions to it just please be polite!#i also believe that togashi's writing lends itself to multiple interpretations that are equally valid. so much of this#may be my own takeaway. but i do think there's enough evidence to support it#well. i hope you guys suffer... i mean enjoy.#storyrambles#hunter x hunter#hxh#hxh meta#kurapika#call me ace detective the way i am ace. and also a detective#<-analysis tag i missed you
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rizzless sukuna pt 3
FINALLY!! i've finished it. it's much longer than i planned but what're you gonna do?? lmao happy late late valentines day everyone! have a sukufushi date
@nessieartss you wanted me to tag you so here i am tagging you!
part 1 | part 2
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Sukuna hasn't been able to stop thinking about his date.
Yes, it's only been about two hours since he and Megumi have set up their date, but that doesn't mean that Sukuna can't be excited. He's never had a date before (if that wasn’t obvious by the way he totally fucked up his pickup line). It’s a mystery why Megumi had even agreed.
After the initial excitement had worn off, Sukuna found himself wondering if Megumi only said yes out of pity, even if he had been amused by Sukuna's fuck-up.
But as soon as the thoughts came, he pushed them away because since when does Sukuna think about the consequences of his actions? He should be thinking about what the hell they're gonna do for this date.
Sukuna had half the mind to ask Maki what they should do, whether she had any suggestions about what Megumi might like, but then he remembered the “advice” she'd given him earlier and a scowl came to his face. Even if it had worked, he refused to send her a text.
“Hey, Sukuna!”
The older boy looks up at the sound of his name, seeing Yuuji making his way over with a grin on his face. He doesn't allow Sukuna to speak before he nudges his brother with an elbow. “We should go to that new Boba place! Gojo told me that the Mango flavor is amazing—”
“No—”
“What do you mean ‘no’?” Yuuji pulls away, looking affronted. “You don't wanna spend time with your favorite brother?” He gives Sukuna his best puppy eyes, sticking out his bottom lip for added effect.
Sukuna rolls his eyes and pushes Yuuji's face away from him. “Well if you'd let me finish my damn sentence,” he grunts. “Not today, I have plans.”
Yuuji snorts. “Plans? Doing what? Throwing rocks at police cars?”
“None of your business,” the older boy replies with a sniff, keeping his face impassive. Yuuji opens his mouth but Sukuna already knows what he's going to ask. “And no you cannot come with.”
“What? Why not?” He pouts once again.
“Because.” That's all Sukuna says. He pulls out his phone and checks his messages. His heart does a stupid little flip when he sees Megumi's name on a notification, letting Sukuna know that he's reached the spot where they're supposed to meet up. Sukuna responds to let him know that he's on his way.
Putting his phone back into his pocket, he reaches out and ruffles Yuuji's hair, earning an annoyed grunt from his brother. “See ya later.”
Sukuna turns on his heel and heads in the direction of where Megumi is waiting, missing the intrigued look on his brother's face.
The closer he gets, the faster his heart starts to beat and Sukuna runs a hand through his hair. Briefly, he stops himself before he rounds the corner just dust himself off and shake out his hands as if it might get rid of the anxiety that he’s feeling. Once again, he pushes his hair back and takes a deep breath.
Rounding the corner, the corner of his mouth lifts up when he sees Megumi waiting patiently, scrolling through his phone. He looks up at the sound of footsteps and he immediately pockets his phone when he sees that it’s Sukuna. A small smile comes to his face.
“Hey,” Sukuna greets.
Megumi replies with a “hey” of his own.
Silence stretches out between them and if it were anyone else, Sukuna would be inclined to laugh at just how fucking awkward it is. He really didn’t think this through.
Megumi doesn’t seem to mind however and asks, “So, where are we going?”
“How about that new Boba place?” Sukuna suggests.
“Sure. Better to go with you than be dragged along by Gojo. He was late to class this morning because he was getting a drink there.” Megumi shakes his head and Sukuna huffs.
The two of them turn to begin walking in the direction of the Boba shop which Sukuna realizes that he has no idea where it is. Hopefully Megumi knows where they’re going. The older boy would hate to make himself look like an even bigger fool by getting them lost.
As they walk, the two of them make small talk and Sukuna finds it easier to keep up a conversation with Megumi than anyone that isn’t Yuuji; he feels his anxiety melting away by the minute. There’s still something nagging at him in the back of his mind that Megumi is only humoring him, but Sukuna ignores it, as he does with most of his internal turmoils.
When they arrive at the shop, Megumi and Sukuna reach for the door handle simultaneously, their fingers brushing. Both pull away instantly, eyes wide as they meet each other's gaze. There's a pink blush dusting over Megumi’s cheekbones and Sukuna's brain short circuits at how cute he looks. The thought alone makes Sukuna's ears burn and he clears his throat, forcing himself to look away.
They both hesitate only to reach for the door at the same time, again, both retracting their hands before they can touch again. This time, Sukuna does chuckle at how ridiculous they're being, trying his best to ignore how fucking adorable Megumi is with his cheeks red (and ignore how his fingers are still tingling after he and Megumi barely touched). He grabs the door handle to yank it open much harder than necessary.
He gestures for Megumi to enter first and Megumi nods, stepping around Sukuna quickly to enter the shop. Sukuna shakes his head at himself, pressing his hand to his chest, willing his heart to slow the fuck down. He's on a date, not running a fucking marathon!
Stepping up next to Megumi, Sukuna looks over the menu, briefly considers asking Yuuji to recommend a flavor, but immediately brushes that thought aside. He would not hear the end of it considering he just turned his brother down to come here. Now Sukuna is on a date with his little brother's best friend at the shop that Yuuji wanted to come to.
Megumi and Sukuna step up to the counter, and as Megumi gives the person at the register his drink order, Sukuna is already pulling out his wallet and card before the other boy can even think about paying. The second the barista gives the total, Sukuna is tapping his card on the terminal screen. When he glances over, Megumi looks unimpressed.
“Hey, I asked you out first,” Sukuna points out as they find a table to wait at. “It's common courtesy that I pay.”
“Then I suppose I'll have to pay for next time,” Megumi hums, a smirk playing on his lips.
Sukuna feels his heart flutter in his chest and he internally scowls at himself for such a stupid reaction; what is he? Some little school girl?
Grow up, Sukuna, he scoffs at himself mentally.
He hates that the idea of a second date gets him so excited.
“Bold of you to assume you'd wanna go out with me again,” Sukuna responds with a quirk of his lips.
Megumi arches an eyebrow, leaning forward. He rests his arms on the table. “Why wouldn't I?”
Sukuna drums his fingers on the table, holding Megumi’s gaze. “Well for starters, I'm an asshole.”
“Yeah,” Megumi nods.
“I'm also Yuuji's older brother.”
Again, Megumi nods. “Correct.”
“Gojo doesn't like me. Or rather, I don't like him.”
Megumi snorts. “Gojo enjoys having you at the school. He just thinks you're fun to tease.”
Sukuna pauses momentarily. “He's a terrible influence on Yuuji,” he grumbles.
This time, Megumi laughs, tucking his face into the collar of his school uniform. The sound makes Sukuna's chest grow warm and he wants to hear that sound again. Who knew such a pretty sounding laugh could come from Megumi Fushiguro?
“That is very true,” Megumi sighs once he's finished laughing.
Sukuna gets to his feet when their names are called for their drinks, and he’s thankful for the out to give himself a moment to take in a deep breath, to regulate himself before going back to the table. He slides Megumi’s drink across the table and watches as the younger boy easily stabs his straw through the top of his drink and takes a sip. For a second, Sukuna is so transfixed on watching Megumi’s Adam’s apple bob that he doesn’t register the fact that he’s being spoken to.
“Huh?”
Megumi huffs in amusement. “I was asking why you asked me on a date.”
“Oh,” Sukuna breathes. He blinks and rubs the back of his neck. With his free hand, he takes his straw and stabs it into his own drink so that he can take a sip, stalling for more time to try and give an answer that wouldn’t sound stupid. “I don’t know.”
Perfect. Great answer you fucking loser, Sukuna tells himself.
“I, uh, well—” He stutters over his words, making himself look like an even bigger fool. The biggest fool in the Goddamn world. He’s reminding himself of Yuuji at this exact moment. “I’ve been thinking about it and, uh, ah fuck.” Finally he gives up and leans back in his chair, rubbing his hands over his face.
“I just wanted to and Maki told me to just do it,” Sukuna says, his words muffled by his palms. By now, the tips of his ears are red and he’s sure that his face is the same. Dropping his hands, he continues staring at the ceiling before looking back at his date.
An amused smirk spreads over Megumi’s mouth and he snorts. “You asked Maki for advice?”
Sukuna takes a sip from his drink as his other hand runs through his hair (he needs to break this habit sooner than later). He scowls, more at himself than at Megumi as he says, “Listen, it’s not my proudest moment, but I’ve never done this before—”
“What?” Megumi gasps dramatically (or as dramatically as Megumi can be), interrupting Sukuna. “Date Man has never had a date before?”
“No,” Sukuna grunts, “and why do you keep calling me Date Man?”
Megumi simply shrugs in response.
“If I'm Date man, that means you’re Raisin Boy,” the older boy decides with a firm nod. This earns an amused snort from Megumi who doesn't disagree.
They go back to sitting in silence again, sipping their drinks. Thankfully, the other boy speaks up first.
“Are you as big of a movie buff as your brother?” Megumi asks.
Sukuna looks up. “Only by association,” he replies. “If he's not watching with his Junpei friend then he's forcing me to watch them.” A pause to take a sip of his drink. “Though, I do love a good horror movie; it's my favorite genre.”
Perking up in his seat, Megumi leans forward a little. “What's your favorite horror movie?”
“'The Exorcist'. A classic.” Sukuna kisses his fingers. When his eyes land on Megumi again, the other boy has a look on his face that says he doesn't agree. Arching an eyebrow, Sukuna asks, “What?”
Megumi gives a lame, one-shouldered shrug. “It's alright.”
Sukuna gapes at him, jaw dropping slightly and he blinks, shaking his head. “Alright? What do you mean ‘it's alright’?”
“It's alright,” Megumi repeats while he mixes his drink. “I'll agree with you that it's a classic.”
There's a pause and Sukuna waits for him to continue, but he doesn't. Sukuna gestures for Megumi to continue.
“I just think 'The Conjuring' is better.”
A loud laugh escapes from Sukuna's mouth and he claps a hand over his mouth. He clears his throat, glancing around to see if anyone noticed. Turning back to his date, he folds his arms and rests them on the table.
“You're just saying that,” Sukuna decides, eyeing Megumi over. “There's no way you think 'The Conjuring' is better.”
Megumi almost looks offended. “It is better. I prefer the first movie out of all of them, but I'm not too picky. Not to mention they're based on true stories and I'm a fan of nonfiction.”
“'The Exorcist' is based off of a true story,” Sukuna points out.
“Very loosely,” Megumi retorts. “Don't get me wrong, the actress who played the little girl—”
“Linda Blair—”
“—did a fantastic job, as did the actress who played her mother—”
“Ellen Burstyn,” Sukuna supplies helpfully.
Megumi smirks at him. “Not a big movie buff, huh?” he teases.
All Sukuna can do is shrug. “It's my favorite horror movie. I've done my research, alright?”
Shaking his head, the other continues, “but with that being said, I think the plot of 'The Conjuring' is better. It's more suspenseful. Keeps you on your toes. Nothing terribly exciting happens in 'The Exorcist' until the last 20 minutes of the movie or so.” Seeing unimpressed look on Sukuna's face, Megumi asks, “When is the last time you saw 'The Conjuring'?”
Sukuna thinks for a moment.
When is the last time he's seen that movie? Yuuji isn't much of a horror fan, and recently, Sukuna has been busy dealing with his stupid feelings and training that he had really watched any movies.
“It's been a minute,” he finally says.
The corner of Megumi’s mouth twitches up. “Maybe we should get together again and watch them back to back, you know, to see which one truly is better.”
The suggestion throws Sukuna through a loop and his brain stops thinking for a second. His heart skips a beat in his chest, his stomach twisting into knots and he wants to punch the table for getting so giddy. He can't stop the smile that comes to his face.
“It's a date… Raisin Boy.”
#jjk#sukuna#megumi#sukufushi#rizzless sukuna#echo writes#god they're such dorks#i've been going through it with work and life so this took me too long to finish im sorry#but i had a good time writing it and i hope that you guys enjoy!!#please let me know#this will not be the end of date man and raisin boy
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Linked Universe College Theater AU
The amount of crazy stuff that goes on in my college theater program deserves to be immortalized with my favorite characters!
So here is what I think they would be like if they were Theater Majors with Time and Malon being their professors (plus some other fun characters at the end)!
--
Time: 46 | Technical Theater Director for the college | In the beginning, he was a simple high school theater teacher, but after seeing an opening at a small college he and his wife decided to apply! He has been teaching at the college for the past 6 years and essentially saved the program. He loves his job, but if he gets one more student named Link, he might burn the place down. His wife is the Artistic Director, Malon, and their son Twilight is his student.
Twilight: 22 | Technical Theater | His parents had him introduced to theater at a young age and he quickly learned that he enjoyed the technical aspect more than the acting side (like father like son). Even though Time insisted he could apply to any college, Twi chose to go to his parent's program. Within the theater, he leads the set-building crew. The man is crazy strong (a platform almost fell on Wild while he was working underneath it and with one hand, Twi caught the set, and with the other; he dragged Wild out). He is living with his parents until he graduates. After that, he hopes to open a summer stock theater in a nearby town.
Warriors: 21 |Performance Theater | Originally, after graduating high school he was going to go into the military, but plans changed after his grandmother passed. Now he is one of the newest performance majors! To be honest, he never saw himself on the stage until he was forced to go to a summer musical audition at the college with his younger stepbrother, Wind. To his surprise, he got a part and has been in love with it ever since! He can often be found helping with the costume department (everyone begs him to please stop trying to put them in scarves; the stage lights are too hot for it). He and his younger stepbrothers live in an apartment together.
Legend: 21 | Performance Theater | He has probably been doing theater longer than everyone else (besides Twilight, but they don’t count him because his parents are theater teachers). As a kid, his family signed him up for summer classes. Quickly, they found he had genuine talent, and he performed throughout high school. At one point, he was in an official production of Matilda, but he refuses to tell which it was. Expressing emotions has always been hard for him and theater is an outlet he can use to be anyone he wants (although sometimes he regrets the performance major choice, especially when he has to dye his hair pink for a role, and it stains). Although he's a performance major, he could give tech students a run for their money. He somehow knows everything (years of experience)! He lives in an apartment near campus with his roommates Ravio and Hyrule.
Sky: 20 | Performance Theater | The Dude was born for the stage. His first performance was in high school, and he has led in every show since. He just seems to shine and embody the character. His high school theater program was small, so it was a culture shock to see so many talented people at the college. Because of that, he struggles with self-doubt. He sometimes doesn’t believe he is good enough to be there. His girlfriend, Sun, is also a performance major at the college and does what she can to assure him he is crazy talented, just like the rest of them. He has the best singing voice out of everyone and is not afraid to do karaoke at the worst time. They live together in an apartment right next to Legend and Hyrule (all the apartments just happen to be in the same building on the same floor).
Hyrule: 20 | Technical Theater | Growing up, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to be. That was until he needed an art credit and joined the tech theater class! He has been in love with it ever since! He loves seeing a show come together and how everyone works as a team to make it happen. Usually, he is in charge of finding props in the maze that is the prop loft (seriously; it is a mess; they have lost Four back there a few times). If no one steps up to be a stage manager or assistant director for a show, he will gladly fill that spot. He lives with his roommates Legend and Ravio (he is a solid 90% sure the two are secretly dating but he has found no solid proof.)
Wild: 20 | Technical Theater | Originally, he was going to be a performance major, but an accident in his first semester of college changed that. Now he has a cool scar on his face and the memory of a goldfish (to be honest it had always been comically bad, so nothing much changed there). He wasn’t going to let some bad luck stop his love of theater, so he changed majors and has been a menace to Time ever since (maybe he will go back to acting one day, who knows ;)). Whether it’s helping in any way possible, specifically building sets with Twilight, or assisting with costumes, he is always lending a hand. He is convinced OSHA does not apply to him (when does it ever apply in theater). One time, he put a ladder on an electric lift so he could fix a sign. The sign still ended up crooked. No one knows why, but he somehow has everything anyone could ever need in his tool belt. Nails? Check. Bobby Pins? Check. The secrets of the universe? Maybe? He lives with his partner Flora and support dog, Wolfie.
Four: 19 | Four is actually 4 different people. The quadruplets all applied to the same college and didn’t realize until they got their acceptance letters! For the longest time, everyone thought they were the same person (somehow the brothers never noticed that people believed this and just thought everyone was being weird when they said a second ago, they watched him leave through the opposite door). After everyone figured it out, they started wearing colored headbands so people could tell them apart (they absolutely have switched colors to mess with people or get out of doing a job). Everyone calls them Four as a joke, and because it is easier than trying to catch sight of the colored headbands. They live with their older brother Shadow, who is a technical theater major, but he works nights, and they don’t see each other on campus much.
Blue: Technical Theater | Hides on the catwalk after hanging lights and you won't know about it until he is screaming "HEADS" because he dropped his phone.
Green: Performance Theater | He has just kinda accepted the fact that if there is a young character, he will be typecast as them. It doesn't help that he looks androgynous and can play a man or woman.
Red: Performance Theater | If there was a most dramatic award he would get it. One time he got a paper cut and screamed so loud that Hyrule swears he felt the loft shake.
Vio: Technical Theater | He is the resident painter of the program, which means he is in charge of doing the shading for every. single. set. More than once he has stayed the night to finish painting a flat.
Wind: 18 | Technical/Performing Theater | He couldn't decide which he wanted to major in, so he dual majors (Malon and Time have a small fun competition to see if they can convince him to favor one over the other)! He lived in a small coastal town until his grandmother died. After that, he and his twin brother Spirit moved in with their stepbrother Warriors since they already planned to go to the same college. More than once, he has to be told to slow down his lines (totally not projecting here). He's absolutely convinced that the theater is haunted after he was locked in and heard crying from the loft. His favorite part of tech is drawing up a design for the set. He is the head of marketing and takes it very seriously. Although he is the youngest, he hates being treated like he doesn't know what is going on and people not letting him help on important projects. He's been doing theater since middle school and just wants to be a part of the team!
Other Characters!
Hylia: ??? | Head of Performing Arts | She has been working at the college for as long as anyone can remember. Kind, but can be quite strict with her employees and their students if they get out of line.
Gannon: ??? | College President | Not much to say about him, he never leaves his office. But before Time and Malon started teaching, he tried to shut down the theater department because there weren't enough students.
Malon: 47 | Artistic Director | She, Time, and Twilight live on a few acres of land given to her by her father. She loves to invite The Chain (the name she gave the group of Links who joined the program and became friends) over for game nights. More than once she has walked into her office to see one of the boys asleep in the corner, where she has a stack of pillows.
Beetle: 23 | ??? | Legit just some dude who really likes the college productions and goes to every show to support the program.
Shadow: 22 | Technical Theater | No one is quite sure if he even exists. Every time a prop breaks, they call his name, and in the blink of an eye; it is either fixed or gone. He runs the lights, but the glass of the tech booth is so dirty you can't see what he looks like (hence the nickname Shadow). Four insists that he is their older brother, but the believability of that differs from person to person.
Ravio: 21 | Business Sales | Legend and Hyrule's roommate (totally not Legend's boyfriend). More than once, he has tried to sell things he "borrowed" from people back to their owners. It never works and he just plays it off as practice for his business class.
Flora: 20 | Mechanical Engineer | She lives with Wild and is half of his impulse control. She can get super focused on her studies and Wild will drag her to the theatre to get her out of the house (and prove that yes he does have a girlfriend, and no she is not made up)
Sun: 20 | Performance Theatre | In high school, she and Sky were cast as Audrey and Seymour in Little Shop of Horrors. She was so nervous about the Suddenly Seymour kiss that she was almost sick. Her and Sky laugh about it now because he was also super scared to kiss his crush.
Tetra:19 | Navy | Wind’s best friend from his hometown. They kept in touch even after he moved away. She is joining the Navy and the last summer before she left and he started college; they met up in person for the first time in months. They just hung out at the beach and talked like old times. They miss each other, so she tries to surprise him at his shows as much as she can.
Phantom: 18 | Psychology | Spirits best friend. She can and will talk your ear off about whatever new thing she is learning in class. She lives in an apartment with a few of her friends and invites Spirit to every girl's night (he has crush privileges and loves to gossip just as much as any of the gals)
Spirit: 18 | Civil Engineering | Wind's twin brother. He wants to work on building transportation routes between different cities (although the amount of work he has to do makes him wish he just went into fast food instead). He might not talk much, but his facial expressions can rival any of the actors.
Aryll: 13 | Middle School | Wind and Spirits younger sister. She moved in with her dad and stepmom after their grandma's death. She misses the beach but is happy to be making friends and learning about the city.
--
If you made it this far, please do not be afraid to ask questions in my ask box. I am dying to talk and write about this AU.
Please.
I beg.
(Also, I am pretty new to the loz and LU fandoms so if something feels off, or I missed some characters, tell me and I'll fix/talk about them!)
#Please enjoy this#It took so long to write#Also please ask questions I would love to tell more about it#Or maybe write a fic or two#Linked Theater AU#linked universe#lu time#lu twilight#lu warriors#lu legend#lu sky#lu hyrule#lu wild#lu four#lu wind
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The world froze as a dog’s howl pierced the air somewhere behind the Titan’s army. It was too much to hope but Percy called out, “Mrs. O’Leary?”
The enemy forces stirred uneasily. They began to part, clearing a path through the street like something behind them was forcing them to. Soon there was a free aisle down the center of Fifth Avenue. Standing at the end of the block was Percy’s giant dog, a small figure in black armor and a slightly larger figure crackling with electricity.
Percy’s heart stumbled in his chest. “Nico?”
“ROWWF!” Mrs. O’Leary bounded towards him, ignoring the monsters on either side of her. Meanwhile, Nico continued forward. The enemy army fell back as though he radiated death. Jason was at his side, becoming more and more recognizable as he approached. His mouth was matted with golden blood. It stained his skin.
Through the face guard of his skull-shaped helmet, Nico smiled. “Got your message. Is it too late to join the party?”
Percy’s heart skipped a beat as he glanced at Jason, growling low. “I thought Jason was supposed to be doing something else?”
Nico drew his hand up to Jason’s face. “He completed his task in record time.” He turned to Kronos. The tone of his voice was chillingly breezy. “You remember your brother, Grandfather? Krios. Jason eviscerated him just moments ago.”
At the sound his name, Jason turned his bloodstained body to face the Titan still on his chariot.
The shock that slid over Kronos’s golden eyes was almost funny. His lips turned back into an ugly sneer. His hand tightened on his scythe. “Son of Hades,” he hissed. “Do you love death so much you wish to experience it?”
Jason growled. Lightning licked the earth around him. For a moment, Kronos almost looked worried. It sent a shock of confidence through Percy’s core, even as the campers behind him, even as Annabeth at his side, faltered nervously at the sight.
Nico held a hand out. “Your death,” he said, “would be great for me. And as Jason’s already proven, you and your kind will easily perish.”
He withdrew his sword - black as a nightmare. With the motion, the ground rumbled. Cracks appeared in the road, the sidewalks, the sides of buildings. Skeletal hands grasped the air as the dead clawed their way into the world of the living. There were thousands of them, and as they emerged, the Titan’s monsters got jumpy and started to back up.
“HOLD YOUR GROUND!” Kronos demanded. “The dead are no match for us!”
The sky turned dark and cold. Shadows thickened. A harsh war horn sounded. As the dead soldiers formed up ranks with their guns and swords and spears, an enormous chariot roared down Fifth Avenue. It came to a stop next to Nico and Jason. The horses were living shadows. The chariot was inlaid with obsidian and gold, decorated with scenes of painful death. Holding the reins was Hades himself, Lord of the Dead, with Demeter and Persephone riding behind him.
Hades wore black armour and a clock the colour of fresh blood. On top of his ink-black hair was the helm of darkness, a crown that radiated pure terror. Just looking at sent chills down Percy’s spine. It changed shape as he watched: a dragon’s head to a circle of black flames to a wreath of human bones. It reached into his mind, pulling forth his worst nightmares and fears. He wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. It was only obvious the enemy army felt the same way from the way they were shuffling, only remaining in place by Kronos’s power and authority.
Behind him, Demeter and Persephone were decked in armour as well, though Persephone matched her husband more closely. Where her mother’s armour was as gold as wheat, Persephone’s was blacker than sky. A silver diadem of roses laid across her head. She carried a wicked sharp sword, Stygian Iron like Nico’s, but it glinted bloodred in the sun. In Demeter’s hands, she held a scythe. Something about it made the air cold. Like winter was coming.
Hades smiled coldly. “Hello, Father. You’re looking… young.”
“Hades,” Kronos growled. “I hope you and the lades have come to pledge your allegiance.”
“The ladies?” Demeter snapped. The air within the first few feet of her dropped by several degrees. A light layer of frost rose slid across the pavement under her chariot. “I am your daughter, you body-stealing cretin. This is why I helped kill you last time.”
Persephone grinned wildly. The flowers on her chariot bloomed. “Hello, Grandfather! We’ve never met before, but I’m excited to watch you die!”
Hades’s laugh was chilling to hear. It resounded loud across the air. The enemy army shuddered at the sound. It broke right down into Percy’s veins. Even Kronos stilled. Persephone only beamed wider.
“I’m afraid we are not here to join your side,” Hades said. “My son here convinced me that perhaps I should prioritize my list of enemies.” He glanced at Percy with genuine distaste. “As much as I dislike certain upstart demigods, it would not do for Olympus to fall. I would miss bickering with my siblings. And if there is one thing we agree on, it is that you were a terrible father.”
“True,” Demeter huffed. There was a cold glint in her eyes. “No appreciation for agriculture.”
“Mother!” Persephone groaned, but Hades’s lips quirked upwards.
Hades drew his sword - the same double-edged Stygian blade Percy remembered presenting to him months before, although now it was complete, etched with silver and haunting. “I will say, I’ve always envied our youngest brother. Watching you die has always been my dream.”
Demeter raised her scythe. “Then we’ve been having the same dream, brother.”
For a moment, a genuine flash of fear showed in Kronos’ eyes. Quickly he steeled himself, snarling, viciously, “I don’t have time for this!”
He slammed the ground with his scythe before either of his children could finish their attacks. A crack spread in both directions. It circled the Empire State Building. A wall of force shimmered along the fissure line, separating Kronos’s vanguard, Percy, and those closest to him from the bulk of the two armies.
“What’s he doing?” Percy muttered.
“Sealing us in,” Thalia whispered. She turned to where Jason was hunched over low to the grounds, hands clawed. “He’s collapsing the magic barriers around Manhattan, cutting off just the building, and us.”
Outside the barrier, car engines revved back to life. Pedestrians woke up and stared uncomprehendingly at the monsters and zombies all around them. No telling what they saw through the Mist, but it had to be plenty scary. Car doors opened. At the end of the block, Paul and Sally emerged from their Prius.
Panic spiked Percy’s chest. “No. Don’t…”
From Sally’s expression, she understood how dire things were. Percy hoped she would have the sense to run, but instead she said something to Paul and began running straight towards him. His voice trapped in his throat. A positive, he didn’t want to cause Kronos to divert his attention to her. But fear clawed its way, ugly and heated, throughout him as he watched her dodge crevices in the pavement and guide Paul around weapons and monsters.
Lightning slammed the earth. Percy snapped to attention, eyes flicking to Thalia then past her at the barrier where Jason had just thrown himself at the barrier. He stumbled back, but, undeterred, threw himself at the barrier again. It was almost enchanting to watch. Winds stormed around him like a mini tornado. Electricity crackled against his skin. With every slam, the sky thundered.
And Kronos seemed that much more worried.
Hades blasted the wall with black energy and roared, “ATTACK!”
The armies of the dead clashed with the Titan’s monsters. Fifth Avenue exploded into absolute chaos. Mortals screamed and ran for cover. Demeter waved her hand and an entire column of giants turned into a wheat field. She spun her scythe towards a group of cowering mortals and blew them out of danger with a blast of winter wind. Persephone laughed, delighted. She changed the dracaenae’s spears into sunflowers. Nico slashed and hacked his way through the enemy. He guarded fleeing pedestrians as best he could. Meanwhile, Sally and Paul continued to run towards Percy, dodging monsters with every step.
“Nakamura,” Kronos said. “Attend me. Giants.” He looked down at Percy and sneered. “Deal with them.”
Then he vanished into the lobby.
For a second, Percy was stunned. He’d been expecting more of a fight. Not a blatant dismal. Like he wasn’t worth the time. Rage hit him like a storm. When the first giant smashed at him with his club, Percy rolled between his legs and stabbed him in the ass. He shattered into a pile of ice shards. The second giant breathed frost at Annabeth, but Grover pulled her out of the way, while Thalia sprinted up the giant’s back like a gazelle and sliced her hunting knives across his monstrous blue neck.
Outside the magic barrier, Nico was fighting towards Sally and Paul. Hades barked an order at Jason that Percy could barely hear under the thundering fall of the giant Thalia had slaughtered, but whatever he said, had Jason sprinting, faster than light, towards Nico’s side. He grabbed a monster and ripped it apart with his bare hands.
Thalia landed by Percy’s side with heavy breaths. She followed his line of sight and exhaled sharply.
Jason was his own mess of violence. Monsters and friends alike cowered before him. Mortals screamed more in terror at the sight of him than anything else that was happening. Once he reached Nico’s side, he was like a guard dog. He darted around Nico and caught an enemy demigod’s throat between his teeth. Blood spurted as he tore out their jugular, then threw them away with one hand. Their sword clattered to the ground as their body slammed into the barrier.
Thalia’s breath hitched.
Percy was so mesmerized by the horror of a one-man killing machine he almost didn’t notice that his mom had arrived, Paul at her side. Paul grabbed the sword from the demigod Jason had murdered and stabbed an oncoming dracaena in the gut.
“Paul?” Percy said bewildered.
So many things were happening right now - Hades had arrived with reinforcement to turn the tide of this battle, Kronos had just run off, a wolf child was tearing monsters and people with his teeth, Paul had just expertly killed a monster.
Paul grinned as he turned to Percy. “I hope that was a monster! I was a Shakesperian actor in college! Picked up a little swordplay!”
Percy could’ve laughed, but a Laistrygonian giant was charging towards Sally at top speed. Her bac turned, she was rummaging through the open door of an abandoned police car. Fear vomited through Percy’s mouth as he screamed, “MOM!”
She whirled around, just as the monster was almost on top of her. But instead she cranked the pump and a shotgun blast blew the monster twenty feet backwards, right into Nico’s sword. Enraged, Jason howled and launched himself at the next one, eviscerating it, before quickly returning to Nico’s side.
“Nice one,” Paul said, a little distant as he glanced down at Jason nervously.
“When did you learn to fire a shotgun?”
Sally blew the hair out of her face. “About two seconds ago. Percy, we’ll be fine. Go!”
“Yes,” Nico agreed. “We’ll handle the army. You have to get Kronos.” He lifted up his sword and grinned. “We got this, Percy.”
“Okay,” Percy breathed as he stepped back, stopped only by Thalia grabbing his hand.
She was watching Jason with wide watery eyes. Nico followed her gaze and shook his head. “He’s fine!” he insisted. “He can handle himself.”
Jason proved as much by shredding an entire group from the enemy army with one decisive wave of his hand. The air pressure slamming down exploded them into bits. An unbothered air rolled about him. He crouched low to the ground and growled.
“He’s fine,” Nico repeated. “Please. Thalia.” She turned to him. “You have to go.”
Percy pulled on her hand. For a moment, she refused. And then, quietly, she went. As Percy ran after her, he called out to Mrs. O’Leary to search for Chiron in the rubble. And as he, Thalia, Grover and Annabeth ran into the building, they paused in the destroyed doorway to look behind them at the war ensuing. Sally was blasting away at monsters. Paul was hacking and slashing. Nico was shouting orders to skeletal soldiers.
And Jason was a force of blinding light, tearing everyone else to pieces like they were nothing but toys to play with.
Thalia shivered. Annabeth and Grover glanced at Percy but he just grabbed Thalia’s hand and turned, racing towards the elevators. They could get into who and what Jason was later.
–
Percy watched his dad walk towards his throne, with an amused grin and little wink. Before she ascended to her throne beside her husband, Hera waved her hand. A simple stone guest chair appeared at the foot of the hearth. Hades brustled past Percy towards it but didn’t sit on it yet, gazing past Percy through the open doorway of the throne room.
With a gentle smile, Hestia glanced up at her little brother. Demeter passed him on her way to the throne and gave a quiet acknowledging nod. Even Poseidon patted his shoulder brotherly before he sat down on his throne. However, Zeus only looked annoyed.
“Do you wish to continue standing, brother?”
Hades rolled his eyes. “I’m waiting for my son. The rest of your brood are here. Only seems fitting mine should be as well.”
A floral scent emerged from nearby. Percy glanced over his shoulder to see Persephone walk in, looking slightly frazzled. She grimaced and mouthed an apology. Behind her, he could hear Nico arguing with someone. The acrid stench of electricity filled everyone’s nose. The other gods paused in what they were doing as Nico approached, his lips thinned. Alongside him, Jason fussed over him. For the most part, he was clean. There were still stains of blood in his blonde hair, but it was gone from his clothes, hands, and mouth. Strangely, he was devoid of any wounds. But he was trying to lick at Nico’s healing cuts and growled every time Nico swatted at him.
He kept walking towards his father, but his footsteps shook with every beat once he passed through the doorway. Attuned to the change, Jason’s posture turned as well. He bared his teeth at everyone they passed by, tensed and angry.
“I’m sorry,” Nico said to his father. “I tried to get him to go home with Persephone but he was refusing.”
As though on instinct, Jason dropped to his butt by Hades’ chair. Hades ignored Nico’s apology to sweep his hair back from his face instead. Then he pushed Nico down by the shoulder. Nico crossed his legs over one another, settling beside Jason who was laying down on the ground, watching everyone else warily, but less tense now that Nico was with his dad. Hades himself sat down.
It was clear he was pretending he didn’t notice Zeus staring down at him in abject horror. A mixture of anger and disgust flustered across his face.
Voice thin, he pushed himself up. “Hades, why do you have my son with you?”
Not looking at him, Hades glanced down at Jason and pet his hair absentmindedly. Jason leaned into the touch, rumbling low in his chest. “I would argue that he is with my son, rather than with me.”
“Jason?” Hera said faintly.
The situation was tense as could be. The air around them all was supercharged. They had just exited one war, and it seemed like another was fast on the horizon. Zeus descended from his throne to approach. A thunderous rage built like a storm in his eyes. Jason tensed, rising up to all fours, beside sliding back onto the tips of his toes. A low growl rolled from his throat, a warning.
Hades’s eyes flickered up to face him. Then he stood quietly and shifted to the side, shielding Nico from view. Percy couldn’t blame him. Zeus had already tried to kill Nico once.
He’d be damned if he tried again.
“He,” Zeus began, quiet and testy, “is not supposed to be here.”
“And yet he is,” Hades mused. “He could be dead, if you’d prefer.”
This time it wasn’t Zeus that spoke, but Hera. “What?”
Hades didn’t turn to her when he responded. His gaze remained firmly on his youngest brother, his stance hardened, protective. “They asked me to help kill him, I offered him a home instead, they accepted, and here we are.”
Zeus laughed, bitter. “They would never-”
“When has a child raised by wolves ever been returned to the human world in a way that doesn’t breed fear?” Hades snapped before Zeus could finish. “A child of yours is no more special than anyone else’s. He was a terror. They wanted him gone.” His voice lowered. “I found it quite funny, actually. All that talk about how my children were a danger to everyone else, best to be culled-” The word stung the air with a tremendous force. “-before they came into themselves, and it was yours who proved to be as such.”
It was so fast, Percy almost missed it. Zeus had raised his hand - to slap Hades or blast him. But Jason threw himself forward in such a blinding rage that Zeus stumbled back. Shadowy tendrils emerged from Hades’s cloak. They snapped forward and caught Jason before he could sink his teeth into his father’s throat, before he could sink his outstretched hands into his father’s bare skin and rip.
To his credit, Zeus had the sense to take a few steps back. Hades clicked his tongue and Jason relaxed. The shadowy leash dispelled as Jason eased backwards, crouched low all the while. His eyes never strayed from his father. He let out a loud snarl, almost like a bark. Lightning glowed across his skin. Faint winds whipped across his hair. His teeth remained bared.
Stay back, he was saying. Or I’ll kill you.
Percy remembered how he’d appeared, covered in golden blood. It was meant to be a thought, kept quiet to himself to speculate aloud later when the situation wasn’t so charged, but instead his seaweed brain faltered and he blurted out, “Who’s Krios?”
Zeus whipped to face him, face reddened with fury, and he wished he’d said nothing at all.
Hades sat down with a quiet laugh. Poseidon clasped his hands together. “He’s our uncle,” he said slowly, as though picking his words carefully.
Percy was content to keep it at that, ready to just get this meeting over with and go home. But Thalia stepped forward, breathing shakily. Zeus looked more pissed off. Thalia ignored him. “Jason killed Krios. How come we didn’t see him do that? Where was he?” She gripped her hands into tight fists and steeled her voice. “Where has he been?”
The gods glanced around themselves. Artemis cleared her throat. “Thalia-”
“There is a Roman camp,” Hades said. Everyone’s gazes snapped to him. Their eyes were wide with shock. Hestia giggled and he grinned at her. Quickly, Persephone crossed the room, glaring briefly at her father, before settling herself on Hades’s knee. “For Roman demigods. Jason is not the son of Zeus. He is the son of Jupiter. Same person, different priorities.”
Zeus’s entire body was trembling now. “You-”
“Me,” Hades agreed. He shrugged. “I always thought it was dumb to separate the two. The problem didn’t come from petty rivalries but the idea that they were different to begin with. I am no better than Pluto and he is no better than me. Jason is no better than her-” He gestured at Thalia. “-and she is no better than him.” He placed his hand on Persephone’s hip, steadying her. “If anything there’s value in the differences.”
Thalia bore no mind to her father’s shaking form. “And the wolves?”
“The Roman children are taught by wolves, by Lupa. Jason was too young, stayed too long. It changed him as it would any child his age. When the camp received him, they couldn’t manage him. They wanted him gone but failed to do so themselves. I was summoned as a next step. I didn’t see the value in killing him. Besides, I quite like dogs.” Thalia bristled but didn’t react. “I did agree to hand him back when requested.
“While you fought here, they fought their own battle. He killed Krios as requested, and when he was done, he came home.” His lips twitched. “As you can see, he’s quite attached to your cousin, as well as myself and my wife. Refused to stay behind if we were going. Since he’s here, there’s really no sense in hiding his origins any longer. He completed his great purpose, after all, the reason behind his secrecy. And as much as certain people in the room enjoy trying to kill their nephews-” He turned his gaze back to Zeus, voice incredibly bleak. “-I have little interest in killing mine.” He glanced at Percy from the corner of his eye. “Well, it depends on the nephew, I suppose.”
Percy ignored the flash of fear that squirmed in his stomach like flopping fish.
A Roman camp…
He supposed it made some kind of sense. Greco-Roman was the name. Didn’t they go hand in hand, written in and out of each other? And they’d met Janus the year before, hadn’t they? He was Roman, and Percy hadn’t questioned his existence.
“So! Little brother.” Hades leaned forward, gave a roll of his hand. “I believe there were things you wanted to say.”
“Yes, Zeus,” Hestia chimed in. “Please get started.”
Her voice was so soft and kind. Zeus softened with every word. His gaze hardened as he raised it back to Hades, but without further complaint, he rose to his throne and sat back down. Thalia took a step back, exhaling shakily as Zeus called the Olympian Council convened and began his long-winded speech. Persephone smiled from Hades’s lap and ran her hand through Jason’s hair. He laid his chin on Hades’s other knee, keeping a careful watch on Zeus all the while.
A fact that did not go unnoticed by the rest of the people in the room.
–
“So. A Roman camp, huh?” Percy leaned against his cabin wall. “How much do you know that no one else does?”
Nico screwed up his face. “It depends. What do you know?”
Percy snorted and glanced up to where Jason was wandering around, taking everything in. He didn’t stray too far from Nico, constantly looking back to make sure he was there and that Percy, standing a good couple feet away, wasn’t hurting him. Thalia was watching from closeby. Her face was carefully guarded. However, every time she would try to get closer to Jason, he’d snap at her and a flash of distress would cut over her eyes as she stepped back.
Percy sighed. “I don’t…” He shook his head. “I can’t imagine what she’s feeling.”
Before they all left Olympus, Hades had called Thalia to the side and spoke with her. When she returned, she said that he had explained briefly the reality of how Jason had gone missing in the first place.
Why
their mother had abandoned him. Which was news to Percy. After Jason’s introduction during that whole sword quest in the Underworld, Thalia had chosen not to explain anything about him in the aftermath. Percy had thought he’d run away or something.
But no. He’d been abandoned to wolves at two years old. By his mother.
She didn’t go into much more detail, but obviously whatever Hades had told her had hurt her. Instead of following Artemis back to the Hunters, Thalia tagged along with Nico. Then continued to follow them as they chased after Rachel. They all overheard yet another prophecy being written into the stars, ideally nothing for the next century or so, when Percy was long dead and didn’t have to deal with any more godly madness. But in the softening madness, Thalia was hanging back, observing her wolfish brother.
Dinner would be starting soon. Percy wondered if that meant Nico would be taking Jason back to the Underworld. If Thalia would lose her brother for the third time.
“Pain,” Nico said. “And hope.” He fiddled with his fingers. “I didn’t know about the Roman camp until I met Pluto, my father’s Roman form. He prefers Hades, but sometimes, when Jason is too rowdy, they fall into what he would know them as.” Nico chewed his lip. “I don’t think he can tell much of a difference. Mostly because there really isn’t one. It’s not like dual sides, or different aspects, like with Egyptian gods.”
“Wait, Egyptian-”
“I mean, there’s no wild or calm variations. It’s like Dad said,” Nico continued, breezing past Percy and this new revelation with ease. “It’s just slightly different priorities. Pluto is more wealth than my father but they’re both still kings of the dead, in charge of the underworld, owners of all the jewels beneath the earth. They’re both still my father. Same as Jason will always be Thalia’s brother, even if he was born from a different name.”
Percy considered what to say. Then, “I didn’t know you were rich.”
Nico’s lip twitched. “My father’s rich. I’m just his son.”
Percy shrugged. “Well, he’s gotta die some time, right?”
Nico laughed, gently. “He would agree with you on that actually.” Ahead of them, Jason, finished examining the exterior of all the cabins, turned sharply on his heels and began jogging back towards them. “Nothing lasts forever.”
#feral!jason#percy jackson#nico di angelo#jason grace#thalia grace#hades (pjo)#pjo#my writing#my fanfic#pjo fanfic#i am so tired i'll upload this to ao3 sometime tmr#kronos is scared of jason because he remembers his son killing him with lightning and isn't thrilled at the risk of a repeat#please please please please enjoy this it took so fucking long to write and im really tired#underworld jason au#happy talks pjo
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Hi! My friend and I are getting into hockey and we’re kind of wondering what the vibe on Max Domi is?? I’m kind of seeing mixed messages about him so we were wondering why you like him so we can figure out what his deal is and if we should try to pay attention to him more on the leafs. Thanks!
hi anon!! just wanna say before i get going that i’m in love with this ask and you by extension for asking, and i’m sorry this took me so long!
now on to the propaganda (this is long i’m not sorry)
i’m obligated to preface this by saying i’m hugely biased as a Leafs fan who grew up in Southern Ontario. my dad has always been a pretty big Tie Domi fan, so liking Max just seemed like a natural continuation of that.
baby Max with Mats Sundin, then-captain of the Leafs. he’s just a little guy,,
born March 2nd, 1995, in Winnipeg, Manitoba, one month before Tie was traded (back) to the Leafs, Max spent his childhood in Mississauga, Ontario, roughly half an hour west of Toronto. at the age of 12, following some health complications at a hockey tournament in Detroit, blood work revealed that Max had type 1 diabetes and celiac disease.
not the end of the world, clearly, but a pretty significant shock for a kid with aspirations of greatness. of course, he was able to manage it, with time, and when i finally read his book i’ll tell y’all more about it i promise.
these pictures make me emotional,, a couple of Domis, a couple of decades apart,,, except Max looks about 200% cuntier
anyway
scored a hatty in his OHL debut (slay). won consecutive OHL championships with the London Knights in 2012 and 2013 (double slay). selected 12th overall by the Phoenix (now Arizona) Coyotes, and signed a three year ELC (!). won gold with Team Canada at the 2015 WJC, and was named the tournament’s best forward (huge W). traded to the Montréal Canadiens in 2018, to the Columbus Blue Jackets in 2020, to the Carolina Hurricanes (via the Florida Panthers) at the trade deadline of March 31st 2022, to the Chicago Blackhawks in July of 2022, to the Dallas Stars in March 2023, and finally signed as a free agent to our beloved Toronto Maple Leafs on July 2nd 2023. he’s been on seven different NHL teams since he was drafted.
sadly, as i’ve only been a hockey fan for one calendar year, i cannot provide much insight into his time with NHL teams other than the Leafs. i have ordered and am waiting for his book to come in so i can better rotate him in my mind, but i encourage anyone who knows more about his other teams’ lore to add to this post or send me what you know, so i can share it with the world. (pls i wanna know everything about him ever)
what i can say is that him and Mitch Marner were teammates on the London Knights for two seasons, (13-14 and 14-15), the second of which saw Max as captain and Mitch as an alternate captain. the season after, Mitch was named captain in Max’s stead. seeing them back together on the Leafs brings joy to my little London Knights heart.
now back to him as a Leaf.
the current Leafs points leaders, as of December 30th, are as follows:
William Nylander - 48P (17G 31A)
Auston Matthews - 44P (29G 15A)
Mitch Marner - 38P (14G 24A)
John Tavares - 31P (11G 20A)
Morgan Rielly - 27P (4G 23A)
Max Domi - 21P (3G 18A)
the first five of these are pretty much to be expected, but there’s my close good friend Max Domi right there too :) he’s doing his part, and even if he’s not the biggest scorer, assists are just as important and valuable :) if i have to kill y’all with positivity for this i will :) i love him dearly :)
also, he currently sits at 389 career points, and he’s nowhere near done, while Tie Domi earned 245 points in his entire career of 1020 games. nobody can say shit to me about him not living up to his dad’s legacy (Note: Tie also sits at third in NHL history for penalty minutes with 3515, but that’s a stat nobody will ever surpass. ever. the current PIM leader in the NHL is Corey Perry, and he only has 1392.)
and now i’m not about to sit here and pretend i know how to quantify the skills of an NHL player, let alone describe them in great detail. i do not. however, what i do know is that i love watching him play and make plays. in my eyes, he is a good player, and this is the Max Domi Propaganda Blog so if you want something less biased i can’t help you, sorry :’)
this love began in a preseason game against the Habs, on Oct 2nd. his first game as a Leaf in Toronto, he scores a tip-in against his former team, and he shrugs it off like NBD. for those of you who were following me at the time, you know i was not normal about it then and i am not normal about it now. i think about that celly every goddamn day.
much to my great sorrow, they Leafed this game up and lost in OT 5-4. but either way, this was the moment that definitively kicked off the Rick eastoncowan Domishka era.
and the only time Max ever seems to get a scoring chance, it’s either on a breakaway or from a spot that would have been absolutely NASTY if it went in. my mans only wants sexy goals, which is a stance i respect immensely.
his first regular season goal… didn’t give him any points. it was beautiful, and a game winner, but since it happened in a shootout, it didn’t count towards his points totals. personally, i think this is bullshit, but now is neither the time nor the place for me to get into my issues with some of the NHL’s rules. (Nov 10, 2023, Flames @ Leafs)
Domishka bardownski SO winner,,, you were so beautiful and so unappreciated but i will never forget you </3
now.
Max’s first real goal as a Leaf.
for those of you who followed me at the time, you may recall this post:
a post that the Hockey Gods took to heart
and obviously i followed through. what do you think i am, some kind of quitter?
and, again, unfortunately, we Leafed that one up, too. we lost it in OT again, so still no Domi belt pic for Rick :(
now i’m not going to go back and gif all 18 of his assists, because i don’t think y’all care quite that much about Visual Proof of all of them. for your convenience, though, i did go back and track down whose goals he had assisted on, and the results aren’t super surprising IMO
Calle Järnkrok, Nick Robertson (assisted on 5 each)
Matthew Knies (assisted on 4)
William Nylander, Morgan Rielly, Mitch Marner, Timothy Liljegren (assisted on 1 each)
anyway, now for what is quite possibly my favourite game that i didn’t actually get to watch live.
December 16, 2023, Penguins @ Leafs, a decisive 7-0 victory.
it was also a 3 point night for Max, two of which helped to complete Matthew Knies’ Gordie Howe hat trick, the first since Daniel Winnik in 2015. but a goal and an assist are only two parts of it, the third being a fight. a fight which Knies initiated against John Ludvig after he knocked out yet another of Max’s front teeth with his stick. a fight which was Knies’ first ever. i’m still mad i didn’t see this happen live, but i’ve rewatched the game in its entirety twice, and the highlights too many times to count. this game sparked my undying love for the 23-11-16 line, which is a line i still pray keefe will bring back.
and so, we have a goal and a fight, and we have an assist to finish off the hat trick, and none of it would have happened without Max :)
and speaking of fights, Max has had a couple of em himself in his time as a Leaf so far. granted, if you ask hockeyfights dot com, he didn’t win either of them, but that’s not what matters. what matters is that he looked beautiful doing it, whether it was against Ian Cole (VAN) or Sam Bennett (FLA), especially with the fun added bonus of him flexing his full head of hair at Bennett’s bald dome. as an aside, i fucking hate Sam Bennett, so Max trying to fight him was… well it made me feel things. all i’m gonna say.
max’s third goal was also gorgeous. stunning. amazing. another beautiful bardown, the sound of which lives on in my dreams.
this is getting far longer than it really needs to be, so i’ll take a step back and give you my true, honest thoughts.
Max Domi has been a very helpful player for the Leafs since he got here. he obviously has the drive to play here and to play well here, and 21 points is nothing to be ashamed of. you know who else has 21 points as of me writing this? Alex Ovechkin. and now i’m not saying they are players of the same caliber, but Max is 6th on the Leafs in points, and Ovi is tied for first on the Caps. 21 points is still 21 points, no matter where in the standings someone is. Max was born to be a Leaf, and nothing makes me happier than to see him here and thriving on the team he’s loved since he was a kid. he takes shots, blocks shots, defends his boys and is defended right back in turn.
and i would not be Rick eastoncowan if i didn’t mention that i think he is hot. like stupid hot. especially without his teeth. fuck, the heart wants what the heart wants, and damn if my heart doesn’t want this tiny toothless idiot.
#ask#anonymous#toronto maple leafs#max domi#rick's gifs#domi primer#this took me far too long#but finally it is here#the 1600+ word max domi primer#heavily biased because this is my writing#and y'all have to expect that from me at this point#anyway please enjoy#i made gifs special#this was made with so much love
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A Review of the Aeons: Insight into Jing Yuan's Perspective
Jing Yuan is an interesting character to me as someone who is at a crossroads between multiple Aeons. As a Xianzhou native, he is undeniably tied to Yaoshi -- his existence, in effect, is entirely thanks to them. As a Cloud Knight and more importantly an Arbiter-General, Jing Yuan not only aligns himself with Lan's goals but is a representation of the Hunt. And yet Jing Yuan himself does not stride upon the Path of the Hunt, but rather the Erudition. What does this mean for him? How has this impacted his outlook? How has it affected his life? These are a few of the questions I want to address, looking at it from the angles of his nature, his alignment, and his personality respectively.
I do want to make a strong clarification here before getting into the thick of it and reaffirm some things: any and all ties Jing Yuan may have to Nous are entirely my own headcanon and speculation. He has no explicit relation to Nous in game aside from being an Erudition character with respect to game mechanics.
So the first and most obvious thing to look at is Jing Yuan's nature. As a member of the Homo celestinae species (which, mind you, should be a species, not a subspecies, because a subspecies would be Homo sapien celestinae - sincerely, an ecology major) Jing Yuan has an immortal body thanks to the blessings of Yaoshi that precede even his time. There's a deep irony that comes with the existence of the Xianzhou Alliance as their goal is to destroy the very thing that effectively defined their existence. One could consider every single Xianzhou native to be a child of Yaoshi, in a sense. Most would not like that association. Jing Yuan himself actually... isn't affected it. He's well aware of the reason for his existence and that the birth of the Xianzhou cannot be removed from Yaoshi. In fact, Jing Yuan is also very aware of the good that can come of the Path of the Abundance. This is reflected in his desire to become a Galaxy Ranger as a child; he didn't start out hating Yaoshi despite being of the Alliance. That hatred was very much taught (and not unreasonably so). He certainly doesn't think favorably of Yaoshi -- he has been deeply affected by their Abominations, after all, and as an Arbiter-General he is also obligated to uphold the beliefs of the Alliance and protect the Xianzhou. What Jing Yuan doesn't like is the parallels between him and Yaoshi. Dealing with the Abundance as much as he has, naturally, leads to an intimate understanding of his enemy regardless of if he is happy about it or not. He understands the nature of Yaoshi's benevolence, and combined with his nightmare, he's very much unsettled by the idea of himself being associated with Yaoshi by way of his virtues, of his giving and self-sacrificial demeanor. I think... in a way, he can empathize with Yaoshi, to some extent, and that is what bothers him the most. Does he agree with the Abundance or align with their Path? No, of course not. But that does not mean he cannot see the reason for their existence, just as much as he can see the reason for their destruction. I think any interactions between him and Yaoshi, if they'd happen, would be nothing but tense and borderline hostile at the very least, but I'd also love to see how Jing Yuan would react to having to face the reason for his existence, the entity he's trying to destroy, the embodiment of his own values.
On the other side of the same coin, while Jing Yuan reflects the gentler aspects of Yaoshi, he also represents Lan as one of the Arbiter-Generals. He can be seen almost as an extension of Lan themself, along with the other Arbiter-Generals and the Marshal. We don't know if there are any Emanators of the Hunt, but if there were then the Arbiter-Generals would be the obvious choice (it's in the name!), much like how Nanook's Emanators are the commanders of their army. It seems like when the Arbiter-Generals speak, they do so on behalf not just of their respective ship, or the Alliance as a whole, but also on behalf of Lan when it comes to the other Aeons. Whether Lan assists them outside of affairs that deal specifically with the Abundance is unknown currently given that their entire existence revolves around eliminating the Abundance, and I believe this is ultimately left up to interpretation until we get more information, but we do know that Lan responds to the Alliance's call and is ultimately loyal to them, as they draw their power directly from the Hunt and not just their Path, so I don't think it's too far of a stretch to say that enemies made of the Alliance are also made of Lan themself -- but I digress. I do think it's very likely that Jing Yuan is one of seven Emanators of Lan, given that he states that no one can enter the Luofu without him knowing unless they are assisted by an Emanator of another Aeon. He's directly blessed by Lan, and I think this leads to him having heightened instincts and senses (which were already sharp to begin with!) to truly embody the idea of the Hunt. I like to think, too, that Lan chooses the Arbiter-Generals through a sign, whether it be light shining down on them or otherwise, rather than the generals being chosen through regular military promotion (more about this later). This makes the most sense with my previous analysis on the Arbiter-Generals and their pretty heavy overlap with the other Commissions. What this does is give the Arbiter-Generals a very credible status of divinity, quite literally directly given to them by Lan themself. ...However, it's important to note that Jing Yuan never desired this status. I've been wondering why he became a General if he never wanted to in the first place, and while I do believe he did so out of the love he had for the lost members of the HCQ and his love for the Luofu, I also think it makes a lot of sense if he didn't have a choice, because Lan chose him in the wake of Teng Xiao's death. Both led to this sense of obligation. How does one possibly reject everything they align themself with, after all? Jing Yuan's always admired the myths of the Hunt, ever since he was young. But as he grew and aged and continued to live, that admiration of heroic freedom slowly shed form and became an acute awareness of the ultimate doom of the Xianzhou. Either they collapse and burn out pursuing the Path of the Hunt (three of their ships have already fallen, after all), or they somehow succeed in their eternal, unending endeavors and the Reignbow Arbiter's reason for being ceases to exist. Then what? What happens after that? What happens to the Xianzhou? ...Can he just leave after understanding all that? He doesn't know. He doesn't think so. So he remains as one of Lan's Emanators dutifully, anticipating not just his own eventual end but that of the Alliance and the Hunt as well.
It's funny, then, to think about the fact that my Jing Yuan did reject an Aeon before he was selected as Lan's Emanator. At this point I've made no secret about the association I've drawn between Jing Yuan and the Erudition. Despite being an Emanator of Lan, he strides upon the Path of Erudition -- here I want to make an important distinction, because the wiki is a little misleading: the game never once states that Emanators must be initially, or subsequently, walking along the same Path as their Aeon, at least not as far as I could see (please feel free to correct me if this is not the case, though!). We also know that it is possible to not just change Paths, but also embrace the power of multiple Paths at once. I believe this to be the case for Jing Yuan; he just aligns more strongly with the Erudition in his personal philosophy, but overall greater encompasses the idea of the Hunt due to his role (and lets be real, gameplay wise he can be just as good as a Hunt character when fighting one on one, holy shit). Jing Yuan attracted the attention of Nous early, due to his natural affinity for tactics and his intelligence, and I've discussed the moment he caught Nous' gaze, and subsequently given an Eye of Nous much like Fu Xuan. This was, effectively, not just a gift but also an invitation to Nous' Temple: one that Jing Yuan rejected due to the horrors he foresaw upon catching Nous' gaze. I've mentioned this in a prior headcanon post, but due to his rejection and the fact that Jing Yuan also did not ask for the Eye, it is incomplete and does not grant him visions. I think that Jing Yuan very well could have joined Ruan Mei as a member of the Genius Society, had he not rejected the key to the Temple! But he did. Honestly, Jing Yuan holds no insignificant amount of dislike for Nous and the Genius Society; he knows there's no point, but he still holds a slight grudge against Nous for burdening him with that eye -- he's only human, after all, or at least he'd like to be that way. He often wonders if things would have been different at all if he hadn't foreseen what would have happened to the HCQ... if he would have ended up blaming himself less or not. There's no point in thinking about that either, but he occasionally does. He dislikes the Genius Society for an equally petty reason -- he thinks they're almost all snobs, truthfully, far too engrossed in their searches for the answers they seek to hold any compassion for others, and he simply cannot agree with that kind of mentality. Stephen Lloyd is perhaps the one that Jing Yuan would bear no disdain towards. So, then, why does he still stride upon the Path of Erudition, or rather how does he do so while representing the Hunt? It's simple: his wisdom and foresight is what has led to the Luofu's survival and subsequent prosperity and fame. His wisdom and ability to recognize threats are best resolved by keeping them from happening in the first place earned him the attention of both Aeons, as worthy of being a member of the Genius Society and, later, worthy of leading one of the flagships of the Xianzhou.
With all these close ties to the gods themselves, it's no surprise that Jing Yuan is, in effect, a very divine character; this is something I've repeatedly made a point to emphasize out of character and also in character. I will state once again that Jing Yuan's divinity was imposed upon him, and this has led to Jing Yuan... often feeling like he does not belong to himself. He is not his own person. His eyes do not belong to him. His purpose and role in life does not belong to him. His mortality and existence do not belong to him. Jing Yuan is rather neutral about his opinions on the Aeons, speaking on them from a mostly objective standpoint and obviously from the side of Lan when talking about Yaoshi, but behind closed doors he may express some bitterness about them -- Lan included. He is wise enough to recognize that every single Aeon is a double edged sword, some with a far more wicked blade than others, and he has suffered at the hands of them multiple times, both from blessings and from curses. He's seen the destruction that is left in the wake of the Reignbow Arbiter's Lux Arrow, after all. There is no difference between salvation and destruction where Lan is concerned. And in the eyes of the Destruction, it does not matter why or how something is destroyed, only that it is. What does it matter if the Paths of the Hunt and the Destruction end up aligning if it's for the mutual goal of eliminating another? This is why Jingliu's speech at the end of the 1.3 story arc resonated with me so much, and why I do think that Jing Yuan will ultimately end up forming some sort of alliance with her and Luocha. To become the playthings of the gods, caught within their contests for power and dominance, is to be doomed to their whims, and he knows this. All one can do is try to stay ahead of the tide. Jing Yuan feels like there is little possibility to try to remove himself from this contest now without threatening the safety of the entire Luofu. He cannot break free anymore, and he hates it. His path was mapped out for him the moment he caught Nous' eye, likely before then, and he shares a similar mentality to Fu Xuan that fate... cannot be changed. At the very least, it takes someone truly, truly extraordinary to be able to do so.
He is not that person. He cannot be that person without putting everything he worked for at risk.
#//about; (DIVINE FORESIGHT)#((2.2k words.... holy shit i'm done))#((i'm ngl i think my eyes glazed over multiple times writing this but PLEASE ENJOY IT TOOK SO FUCKING LONG))#((i'm v proud of this asldkfjhalsfdkjh))#Willow Rambles
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may i finally present to you all, the 'how the hell jeff managed to graduate university' fic, in all her 33k glory! enjoy!
#pit babe the series#alanjeff#alan x jeff#jeffalan#jeff x alan#pit babe#this fic took me so long#but also no time at all considering my one fic every four years routine#it was nearly done at 27k a couple of days ago#and then i decided to add an additional smut scene#and i wrote nearly 6k of smut today#so enjoy that#it's also very sweet and explores jeff's relationships with the rest of xhunter#also charlie is a great brother and i loved writing them#please give it a read!#mine
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Chapter 17
continuation of byakuya's no good very bad worst shit ass day of his life (so far)(!!!)
SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY
Some pre-chapter notes:
this chapter went a little different from how i originally planned bc I was going to make byakuya much more stupid. but. he needs to fly off the handle several times later so. we can't let loose all at once
to be very fair to makoto he did not want to do that. and yet. here we are
the king of kings!! @digitaldollsworld
Content warning tags: ableist language from various characters, Byakuya's panic spiral, mild self-harm reference
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Time seems to grind to a halt. His breath is still caught in his throat, halfway through a relieved sigh as he had been waiting - expecting - for Makoto to help him. To pull up some vague, hidden piece of evidence to clear him of any suspicion, to cleverly point out some irrefutable proof that had previously lay unseen.
But instead - his heartbeats feel too heavy. His breathing feels too light, deprived of any real oxygen. His head pounds in the same way it did when he was struck earlier, with a dull, pulsing ring that washes out everything around him.
He prided himself, once, on being able to read a person’s intent. To judge just when and why they might choose to abandon him, to cross him, to try and use him for their own intents. For that reason, he supposes, is why this sickly, sticky feeling of dread is so new to him. He’s never known real betrayal before.
His eyes dart around the room, but the others don’t seem to believe Makoto just yet. Even Owada seems taken aback, stock still and quiet. Only Kirigiri seems unsurprised - or maybe, he was only imagining it, the tranquil quality of her silence. As if she were merely observing it all, far out of their reach.
“Seriously??” Syo’s voice is a grating jeer. “You’re telling me this whole time he had no idea what I looked like? No wonder he didn’t fall for me at first sight!”
“I…don’t think that’s the reason why,” Hagakure says, though he seems utterly bewildered. “But, that can’t be right, right? I’ve seen him reading loads of times. And he practically lives in the library, y’know?”
“Yeah, and he can do things just fine for himself.” Asahina says in agreement. “I mean, he does his own laundry and stuff, and he knows this place way better than me at least. I didn’t even know where the A/V room was during the first motive, I just sorta followed him.”
“Yes, this is sort of…” For the first time, Celeste sounds genuinely surprised, her usually unphased demeanor wavering, her accent slipping for a moment. “Ahem. While I did note that he sometimes seemed a bit…eccentric, so to speak, nothing of his actions suggested that he was impaired.”
Their skepticism is a small relief. He nods jerkily, unable to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth to verbalize his agreement. But it’s a small, pathetic movement that goes unnoticed, hardly amounting to anything in this large courtroom.
And their disbelief only goes so far. Ogami speaks up now, for the first time since the trial began, her low voice immediately silencing the whispers.
“I performed a concussion test on him earlier,” She says, gruffly. “As Kyoko had asked me to. He was lucid when answering my questions, and he didn’t seem to exhibit any symptoms that couldn’t be attributed to other reasons.” There’s a slight creak of wood, as she shifts her weight on the stand. “However, I did notice that his pupils were…strange.”
“My- what?” He sputters now, too suddenly, too loudly. He reaches up to touch slightly-trembling fingers to a closed eye, feeling the smooth bump of the cornea twitching beneath the thin skin of his eyelid as if he might be able to identify the damage that way. Why hadn’t she mentioned this earlier? Why bring it up now? “What do you mean, ‘strange’?!”
There’s a slight, panicked edge to his voice that he hopes no one catches, but this was the first time he heard that there could be physical evidence to his affliction. “It was a bit hard to test without the proper tools, but I noticed that they do not react much to changes in light.” Ogami explains. “The shape is also slightly…off. If I had to describe it, I would say that there is…a warping around the edges.”
“And you didn’t think to mention it?!”
“I assumed it was either due to the head injury, or, it was genetic.” There’s an apologetic note to her words. “Given your usual behavior, I…didn’t think it was important.”
Not important. As if she could know what was important here.
“I. Am not. Blind.” He snarls stiffly. “Obviously, I have never taken a close enough look at my own pupils to notice that deformation, but it has never affected my daily life. I am not disabled, nor have I ever been.”
“I find it hard to believe that you have never been aware of it.” Kyoko remarks, tone clipped. “I can’t imagine someone of your status being ignorant of anything concerning your physical health.”
“Then you can rest easy knowing that I am perfectly healthy.” He snaps back, venom flying off his words.
Distantly, he knows that he is digging a pit for himself. That admitting to this would help clear him of any suspicion at all. But he doesn’t care; he would rather die than suffer such indignity. That was what he’s always known, taught by his butler, and then reinforced by all his surroundings afterwards, his siblings, his father - better to perish and let your enemies cry with relief and count themselves lucky, than let them mock you as you dig your own grave.
“You should just admit it already. You are drawing this out to be unnecessarily long, or would you rather doom us all?”
“I don’t see why I should cooperate with someone who has been making mindless accusations at me all this while.”
There’s a tense, snappish tension between him and Kirigiri. A livewire current. A piece of elastic stretched taut. He glares, and to him, her blurred form looks like that of a reared snake.
“Um…” Asahina speaks up, her hand tentatively raised. “If Byakuya’s really blind, can’t we just test it?”
“Excuse me?”
“I-I mean! Not saying that you are blind, or anything,” She says this quickly, carefully, like soothing a spooked horse. “But, we’re not going to get anywhere if you two just keep arguing back and forth, and it’ll be really quick! Like, Sakura, can you hold up a few fingers?” She complies silently, one arm remaining crossed across her chest, the other raised to her side. “How many is she holding up?”
He tries not to squint, but he has no idea. Two? Three? It's nothing more that a blurred, brown shape. “You can’t be serious.” He almost laughs, but the sound he makes is derisive and bitter.
“Y-yes, this is-! Unfair!” Now it’s Yamada, speaking up again. “In case no one else has noticed, Mister Togami is lacking his spectacles! Asking such a thing of him…it’s akin to bullying!”
He’s oddly assertive about this, and Byakuya watches as he pushes his own glasses a little higher. For some reason, being considered something of an equal by Yamada irritates him further. “Shut up.” Who asked for his help.
“Yes, be still please,” Celeste sighs dismissively. “We are playing a game with our lives. This is hardly the time to be discussing moralistic issues.” There’s a slight metallic tap as she raps her silver finger guards against her rings. “But you do make a point. Byakuya does not have his glasses at the moment. It would be difficult to try and confirm anything without them.”
Thank goodness for those with common sense. He doesn’t look to his side, where she was standing, but he swears that he can see her eyes glancing at him, the unnatural red of her pupils bright on her pale face. “Yes,” he agrees, seizing upon it. “And they were broken earlier, thanks to Owada. Nearsightedness runs on my mother’s side, and the former Togami head was farsighted. I will admit that much, is that what you wanted? Kyoko?”
He’s rambling. He’s aware of it. But there are a few nods exchanged, and Asahina scratches at the back of her head awkwardly, as if embarrassed. Kirigiri, however, is still unmoved.
“No. When I say you are blind, I do not mean without your glasses. Or there wouldn’t have been a point in bringing it up in the first place.” Kirigiri shifts her weight slightly, the sway of her stance accompanied by the creak of wood. “Even without your glasses, you cannot do tasks such as reading. I imagine you’ve managed everything else by means of careful practice, but this is the one thing you can’t manage on your own.”
“Hey, Kyoko-” Makoto looks nervous, unsure whether to face him or her. “That-”
“And how do you plan to prove this?” Byakuya snarls. He feels a small flare of triumph, even despite everything, the looming threat of death. “As we found before, I don’t have my glasses. Did you happen to pick those up as well? Did you repair them for me while you were at it?”
Instead of offering a retort, or any sort of reply, she sighs. A soft, tired sound.
“Makoto.” She isn’t facing the other boy, but her tone is firm as she addresses him, and a little exasperated. She doesn’t say anything more, but Makoto seems to understand, and his hands drop to his sides.
“There is a way to prove it.” His voice is quiet. Quiet, and…sad, somehow. Defeated. “Byakuya…please show us your handbook.”
The realization sets in slowly. He’s already been betrayed by Makoto twice now, but still, he finds himself stunned, slack-jawed. This one was the worst by far - not only was he actively helping Kirigiri, he was betraying Chihiro as well, risking revealing everything to that accursed bear. And after all the lengths Byakuya had gone through to protect this secret.
“What are you saying,” He says, and his voice has a humiliating tremor that matches how his hands shake, clutching at the rail. Surely, he’s heard wrong. Surely, Makoto would correct himself, take it back-
“Your handbook. Chihiro, he…he put a program on it that lets you be able to do stuff like tell the time. It also reads stuff aloud. And he did it after the motives got revealed, that night when Celeste saw you guys leaving the bathhouse.” He sounds so somber, so sad and grieving. He won’t meet Byakuya’s eyes. “He did it in exchange for you teaching him how to be strong, and self-confident - which you did, by telling him to go around talking to everyone else today.”
Without really thinking about it, his hand goes to his inner jacket pocket, where his handbook sits. His fingers close around the little device, the hard edges of plastic and metal pressing into the creases of his palm. He feels a little like he’s been shot.
But he doesn’t bring it out. He glares instead, furiously, hatefully, at the boy standing just meters away. He - and Kirigiri too, most likely, Byakuya suspected that Makoto had already revealed everything that that woman - knew perfectly well the importance of Alter Ego, and why it could not, under any circumstances, be revealed. And they knew Byakuya was aware of this too, and they were holding this fact hostage, over his head.
(I could, some sore, beaten part of him thinks with poisonous intent, try and claim responsibility for Chihiro’s murder. I could say that they’re wrong. That I lured Chihiro to the bathhouse with the intent of making him less wary, easier to isolate. That he was so weak and trusting and stupid that killing him was a simple manner. That I mimicked Syo’s modus operandi to throw suspicion off of me.)
The mere thought was shameful, but it was his pride, wounded and bitter, that was seriously considering it, if only for some semblance of control. The barest reassurance that he had any real weight at all in this trial. And all he would need to do is open his mouth and say the words.
But instead, he bites down on his inner cheek, hard enough for blood to trickle out the corner of his mouth, hard enough for the pain to rival the buzzing in his temples. And tightens his grip momentarily, just enough to feel the faint, humming warmth of the handbook against his sweating palm, and exhales slowly.
“...Fine. Fine.” He spits, angry, defeated, exhausted. He’s sick of this. He just wants it to be over. “Yes. I’m blind. I have been so since we first woke up in this school. Are you happy now?”
Makoto looks down, his face shadowed by his hair. Kirigiri tilts her head slightly, a motion that’s not quite a nod but more of a bow.
“Wait, so then-” Asahina’s voice, confused and a little hesitant, pipes up. “If you’ve been…y’know, this whole time, but only after we got to this school…does that mean the Mastermind did this to you, somehow?”
“That’s what I would like to know, myself.” He turns to look at Monokuma, and finds the bear lounging across its throne, a bucket of popcorn resting precariously on the armrest. The repugnant toy giggles, and swings itself upright, spilling a handful of white puffs all over.
“Gosh, I wonder?” The thing taps at its chin, voice taking on a wondering tone. “Of course, I want this game to be fair and give you all a level playing field. I believe in equality after all! …Though this has made for so many entertaining developments, so…I figured I’d leave it as is. Besides, you’ve adapted quite well, haven’t you Mister Togami?” It cackles, paws clutching at its belly. “GIven how well you did hiding it from everyone, I think it’s fine if we leave it like this, don’t you think?”
He wants to cross the courtroom and throttle the stupid thing this instant. All he can do is glare murderously, lips twisted into a snarl.
There’s a sharp clap that has most people jumping. The source of the sound is Kirigiri, whose hands are raised, and pressed together. “Let’s move on.” Her voice is firm, with no room for arguing. “All we’ve done so far is clear one person’s innocence. We still need to identify the real killer.”
And that was it. The most disgusting moment of his life, over just like that, ended by her words. He knows that there’s bound to be some kind of punishment in store for those who interrupt trials, but he briefly wonders if he can get his hands around her neck before Monokuma can react.
Owada jerks at Kirigiri’s words, startled out of his own stunned silence. “W-wait,” He sounds panicked now, and of course he would be. His scapegoat is gone. “Then, if it’s not Byakuya, then who…?”
“Let’s consider what we know. Given how it’s not clear where the murder took place, it would have to be someone who had access to cleaning supplies or water, and has no alibi that can be verified when the murder occurred. For the most part, everyone here has an alibi that can be supported by at least one other person, but there are some that do not.” Kirigiri lists these calmly, and Byakuya imagines her cold gaze, flitting between each person in the room. “Mondo. Do you care to explain what you were doing prior to the body’s discovery?”
The effect is immediate. The other boy rears up, instantly furious. “The fuck are you trying to say? That I’m a murderer?!” He thunders. “Like I said earlier, I was taking care of my bro. You know that. Everyone knows that!”
“As you said earlier, Taka is currently compromised. He can’t give a testimony.” She shoots back without hesitation. “Your alibi is flawed.”
“Yeah? Well - well so’s yours!” He sputters. “Like- Syo might’ve been the one to find you in the bathroom, but that was just before Chihiro was found. Toko can’t say that you weren’t there the whole time, a-and even if you were, maybe the bathroom was where Chihiro died anyways!”
Owada may be stupid, but credit where credit was due, he was surprisingly quick to retort and pick at Kirigiri’s excuse. “I could not have cleaned up a murder scene in the bathroom so spotlessly in the time between Chihiro’s last sighting and the body discovery. As Makoto described earlier, the sinks of the bathroom were all dry-”
“There was that sheet, you could’ve used that before smashing Chihiro’s head over it. And there’s water in the toilets, right? And the girl’s bathroom was right next door!”
“...I’ll commend you for recognizing my perseverance. But I did not kill Chihiro.” She shakes her head. “If the only thing that will clear me is secondhand support to my alibi, then the only thing that needs to be done is to ask a witness. Toko?”
And she addresses Syo now, who just cocks her head for a moment, and shrugs. “I keep sayin’ to you guys, it’s lights out up there. There’s no telling when she’ll be back!”
Byakuya has had enough.
“Toko,” He says first, his voice low and hissing. Then, louder, building into a shout: “TOKO. Come out, NOW!”
“I don’t think it works like tha-” Syo’s words are cut off suddenly, and she collapses where she stands, like a puppet with her strings cut.
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#thpff#thpff chapters#danganronpa fanfiction#byakuya togami#byakuya mentally filing for a second naegami divorce#sorry this one took so long.....my frontal lobe. it is soup#combination filing taxes + applying for classes + applying for jobs + etc etc. it'll do it to ya#going to really really really try to get 18 up by sunday but if its delayed do u prommy not to be too mad at me. do you. pls pls pls#i jest tho. thank u to everyone who has been reading thus far i hope you continue to enjoy it or move on to other things#just knowing you were here even if just for a moment even if for the whole ride is enough for me#i hope this chapter is legible i cranked out the last half of it at 2 am on a half bottle of soju#also had to mentally go over everything twice bc ive been listening to His Dark Materials audiobooks and my writing was turning british#byakuya frothing furious angry defeated at the stand while kyoko is just. o<-< are we done yet. can we please talk about the murder#theyre both toxic here and making everyone bear witness to it#alright folks lets take bets now on who you think the killer is!!!
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-- Chapter 5: Knee Deep --
The highway was sticky with drying blood, illuminated by the smoldering crushed front end of a car that sat on its side twenty feet away from him. The windshield was shattered, bits of it spread all across the road. The scent of copper nearly gagged him. Will covered his nose and mouth with his hand as he looked around, looking for him. Looking for Mike.
But it was empty, blood sticking to the soles of his shoes. It was empty and everything was wrong.
He put his hand down and called out, “Mike?”
He was supposed to be here.
“Mike!”
He was thirteen, once, screaming Mike’s name in the middle of an empty cul-de-sac. Flickering in between worlds like a View-Master stuck between slides. He had a similar feeling now; of being stuck somewhere between, between what?
“Mike!”
CHAPTER 5 IS HERE!!!
Tagging: @talkingtothelights @booksandpaperss @fireflywitch @sparks-olivarpente @flamingbisexual08 @boahey @elsbianism @hazmatazz (if you wanna be tagged here too next time please feel free to ask!)
#a strange education fic#I made a moodboard for it please enjoy#This took me so long to write with school and work and everything and I'm very proud of it and happy it's finally done#byler#byler fanfic#byler fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#my writing#my posts#stranger things#mike wheeler#will byers#gay mike wheeler
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I can't believe I wrote a 35k mafukasa fic !!!
#it has some hits already bc it took so long to upload each chapter and i had to edit the formatting a little#could have saved them as drafts first i guess but whatever#so... i don't know whether it's any good but im extremely proud of this work and i hope at least a few people will like it#it was so much fun to write!!!#please consider leaving comments if you read bc i'd love to hear your opinions <3#but in any case just enjoy!#prsk#mafukasa#fanfiction#asahina mafuyu#tenma tsukasa
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Wow, longest one yet. Phew.
In which Daniel visits a memory of a certain fishbowl. Also farthest time jump so far in this series, Daniel is 20 here. (Also just went off the vauge theme of the prompt for an idea without trying to fit it in the actual text this time).
Mnemonic
Daniel opened his eyes to curved glass and writhing shadows.
He was lying in the curve of a glass cage, suspended above the ground in a dark room lit only by flickering torches, that cast shadows in the vague shapes of men, floating around the outside of the glass, muttering muffled threats and jeers, occasionally floating close enough to leer in at him, their hazy faces further distorted by the curve of the walls. Looking up to his right Daniel could see what looked to be, blood dripping slowly down one side of the cage. And to his left…
"Dream?"
"Oh Daniel"
Dream said his name with a desolate fondness, it made Daniel feel as though he'd disappointed the Endless being somehow, though he hadn't the faintest idea why.
"Where are we?" He asked, eyeing their surroundings with a muted thrill of horror.
"Is this--is this the cage Burgess trapped you in?"
"Yes. It is a nightmare of it, a memory, distorted."
Daniel gulped hard, he'd heard the stories of Dream's imprisonment, many times, with varying degrees of appropriate detail as he grew older. But to see it…
A chill ran through him that had nothing to do with the bitter cold that surrounded them.
"How are we here? How can you be in a nightmare?"
"I am nightmare. I am all dreams, my realm is myself and I am my realm." Dream said as casually as if they were in one of their many normal lessons, though his eyes tightened ever so slightly as he added " But sometimes my memories become…too much for my realm, for myself."
Well that wasn't very reassuring
"Can we get out?" Daniel asked, looking out warily at the angry shadow men. Their forms were beginning to become slightly more distinct now, and he really didn't care to see them when they fully formed.
True they were only men, he'd seen Nightmares in much more fearsome shapes…but they were the shadows of men who had once hurt Dream, Dream who was so great and terrible--and because of that, Daniel had secretly always been a bit more afraid of that story then any other he'd been told. Even now as an adult, he still felt that cold pit of fear beginning to form in his stomach as he looked at them.
"Yes, we will eventually be able to break the glass. I have long since learned how to extract myself when these memories threaten to rise up, but it may… take some time"
There was the faintest edge to Dream's voice as he said that which did nothing to dispel Daniel's growing worries. His next words didn't help much either.
"And sometimes, additional help is required"
Daniel finally managed to tear his gaze from the shadow men to look at Dream, who he found was looking back at him, that same sad fondness in his eyes as before.
"Is-is that why I'm here?" Daniel asked with a mix of pride and embarrassment, "Did you call me? To come and help?"
Dream's sad look deepened, a shadow coming over his face that had no part in the flickering torches. After a long moment he said in a subdued voice:
"No, no I did not call you. Not now… not before"
Daniel blinked. "Before?"
Dream hesitated again, he seemed to be battling something inside himself, trying to come to a decision that he did not wish to come to.
"You… have been here before" He finally said, looking away from Daniel as he spoke.
"What?" Daniel's mind was trying to make sense of what he'd heard, he'd never been here before. Not even in his own nightmares, and heaven knows he'd been frightened enough at the thought of what had happened to Dream, been worried sick the first time he heard the story that it could happen again that he ought to have had nightmares about it.
But Dream was speaking again, his dark eyes fixed to the room outside the cage, seeming to see beyond the glass and shadow to something far, far away.
"Years ago, when you first began exploring the Dreaming. The connection we share, both being of and made of the Dreaming, must have pulled you here, one night when my own memories became… too much, and I found myself trapped within this sphere once more, watching them taunt me curse me, watching…"
Dream's eyes flickered up towards the dark stain Daniel had seen earlier, before immediately looking away again.
"I thought I was there again in truth, thought that perhaps I had never escaped at all. And then you were there."
Dream finally turned back to Daniel, and Daniel's breath caught in his throat at the sight of tears shimmering beneath the faded stars of Dream's eyes.
"You were there, here, in this cage with me. Reaching out for me. And the thought of you being trapped in this crushing, airless prison, surrounded by the jeers of those demons in mens forms--"
Dream's voice cut off momentarily as those very sounds and shapes shot forward suddenly, slamming against the glass walls. Dream's eyes flashed dangerously, and the shadows withdrew, though they were perceptibly darker than before.
Seemingly satisfied that they had slunk back for the moment however, Dream went on.
"I could not allow myself to sink into the clutches of that memory again, not when it would mean dooming you to that captivity as well. So I held you close and found that I could shatter that vile sphere, as I'd longed to do so many times during my captivity."
Daniel didn't know what to say, he had no memory of this dream event. But then he apparently had been very young when it happened, so it was conceivable he'd simply forgotten. And yet…
"...that wasn't the only time though, was it?"
Dream looked at him for a long moment, before slowly shaking his head.
"No. There have been others"
It could have just been the natural progression of the nightmare, but the room seemed to get even colder when Dream said that, and it had already been plenty cold before. Daniel was having to clench his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering. At least it was winter out in the Waking so he'd fallen asleep in thermals but still...
Dream however had taken notice of Daniel's discomfort and held out his hands to him, for all the world as though he were still a child of ten and not twenty last month.
And to be honest, Daniel was too disquieted by this whole scenario to feel even the slightest bit of embarrassment as he scooted forward to tuck himself into Dream's side, Dream wrapping him up within his coat just as he'd done so many times over the years. It never failed to give Daniel a feeling of safety and security, and he desperately wanted to feel something of that in this freezing, darkening basement.
"Are you warmer?" Dream asked, running a hand through Daniel's hair as the other pulled him closer to Dream's chest, trying to share the little warmth he had.
"It's better yeah thanks…you were saying?"
Dream gave a low sigh, one that clearly said he'd hoped Daniel wouldn't ask more, but he went on, the words seeming to come as though dragged from deep inside himself.
"I have found myself back in this room many times over the years. Perhaps there will always be times I do, no matter how much time passes. Sometimes I am able to free myself with ease, sometimes Hob has had to find me as he walks the Dreaming and bring me out again…and sometimes it has been you that finds me."
"How many?" Daniel asked, looking up at Dream, still wracking his mind to see if he could recall this place.
"There have been five times, before this one"
Daniel sucked in a cold breath, five??
"That first time, when you were still little more than an infant. Next when you were six, you were so brave, so fearless even then, you shattered the sphere from the inside with your own fists."
There was a glow of pride in Dream's voice as he said this that made Daniel's chest suddenly ache with the warmth of it. But he kept silent as Dream went on.
"Then next time when you were eleven, you couldn't shatter the glass, but you gave me your own blanket, pulled from the Waking to cover myself, and talked to cheer me, blocking out the taunts of the guards until I was able to rally enough to set us loose….
Then once more…when you were fifteen."
Dream stopped, swallowed, and suddenly he pulled Daniel closer, resting his lips against Daniel's temple, not so much a kiss as a desperate press, as though to try and assure himself that Daniel was still there in his arms.
Daniel held his breath, waiting for Dream to go on. It took another moment but Dream finally seemed to collect himself, the faintest of shudders running through his body as he continued.
" That time you found me from outside, without being pulled into the sphere yourself. You tried to rush the guards in the basement, tried to tackle Burgess himself…"
Dream stopped again, and there was a haunted look in his eyes as he looked down at Daniel, who's heart felt suddenly leaden as he forced himself to ask:
"What happened?"
Dream had to look away from Daniel when he finally said it.
"They killed you."
Daniel's heart sank into his stomach. He tried to turn to wrap his own arms around Dream, but Dream had already pulled him close again, his face buried in Daniel's white hair, and Daniel's heart sank even lower as he felt wet drops of starlight tears falling down to baptize his head.
"I had suffered through watching them kill Jessamy, kill Hob, many times. But this…"
Dream's breath hitched, and Daniel almost told him to stop, that he didn't need to sat anymore, but Dream continued on again before he could.
"I had already lost one child, to see another cut down before me, even in only a twisted delusion of a memory…"
He was brushing Daniel's hair again, mingling his still falling tears with kisses as he did so. Daniel felt tears forming in his own eyes.
"In my despair I shattered not only the sphere, but the whole acre of the Dreaming where the nightmare had formed."
At this Daniel couldn't help but pull back from Dream's embrace in shock. If his face hadn't already been it's now customary snow white, as it took on in the Dreaming, he would have paled considerably.
"You could have seriously damaged yourself! You did damage yourself! Are you alright? I mean, you're alright now yes but ...."
Daniel trailed off, feeling a little foolish though the wave of concern that had risen up in him had yet to die down. But Dream only looked at him with that soft, sad fondness.
"I am well enough now, yes. It took some time to heal, both from the damage I had caused to the Dreaming…and from…from having seen you…"
This time Daniel did pull Dream into an embrace, leaning forward to wrap his arms around Dream's thin waist, resting his head against Dream's shoulder as Dream's arms came up to tightly encircle him. They held each other in silence for a few more minutes, ignoring the deeping shadows that swirled around them, still mummering and muttering, until Dream was finally able to begin again.
"I had hoped that would be the last time, that perhaps by decimating the dream manifestation so thoroughly the memory would never be able to appear again…but it did."
Dream began rubbing circles into Daniel's back, and Daniel had the feeling that once again Dream was trying to ground himself in the reality of Daniel being there before he went on.
"The last time was when you were eighteen."
Daniel stiffened. That was--that was only two years ago.
He leaned back, shifting himself so that he was of a height with Dream.
"Why… why don't I remember any of this?"
Dream looked as though he were about to pull away himself, a flash of unmistakable shame crossed his eyes like a comet.
"Dad," Daniel said softly.
Dream's breath hitched as though Dnaiel had struck him, and he turned his face away as a sound of pain escaped his lips, low and deep enough to vibrate the glass that encased them, before finally:
"I…I took your memories of each time after they happened. I did not wish for you to be aware of such darkness and cruelty as this memory contained at such a young age. It has been relatively tame this time but in others….The world would teach you of that well enough in time, I wanted the Dreaming to be a place of refuge and safety for you. I did not want my own turmoil to affect you, to…to taint your home for you. And then that last time…"
Daniel swallowed. The memory of whatever came next was clearly terribly painful. He wondered what could have been worse than watching him die? He didn't want to push Dream, didn't want to cause him more pain but…but it was his memory. And despite their current circumstances, or what Dream might believe, he was no longer a child that needed protecting.
His mind supplied him with the image of himself curled up against Dream not moments before.
Well, he didn't need it all the time at least.
"Please, if you can...what happened that last time?"
Dream sighed low once more, sagging as though a weight had settled down upon him.
"In the last time, it was I who was outside…trying to get down to you. I knew you were there, knew I had to get to you. I tore Burgess's mansion apart with my bare hands as I went."
Dream had pulled back from his embrace of Daniel, and was staring down at his hand now as he spoke, clenched into tight fists on his lap, shaking slightly as the memory of the rage and fear he must have felt in those moments rushed once more through him.
"I found you at last… trapped as I had been, as wasted and thin as though you had been forced to live through all the years of captivity that I had…But when I got you out, when I assured you that I would never allow such a thing to happen to you …you said--you said you hadn't minded, that you'd shifted the nightmare so that it would be you. The memory it was built on needed a Dream of the Endless trapped in a cage… and you said that I had been trapped in it long enough."
Dream looked up at Daniel now, and there were black tears running freely down his face as he looked with desperation into Daniel's own tear blurred eyes.
"I have never wanted you to feel you had to take on my burdens, Daniel. To carry my pain. It never should have fallen on your shoulders to try to rescue me, especially not from that…not from myself"
"I didn't mind." Daniel choked out, though he had no memory of it, he knew his words were true. He would have done that and a hundred times more for Dream, for the only father he had known, who cared so deeply and had suffered so much, even before Burgess.
"I don't mind now"
"I know," Dream said, sounding like it broke his heart to say it.
He reached out then, cupping Daniel's face in his cold white hands, brushing away the stardust tears that fell from Daniel's eyes with his thumbs, even as he let ink black tears fall from his own void dark eyes, the stars in them so dim Daniel could barely make them out.
"Oh my good good wonderful boy, It's my duty, my joy to look after you, not the other way around. All I want is to have the absolute blessing of seeing you grow into yourself. My dearest, my beautiful dreamer"
Daniel couldn't speak, couldn't manage to get anything out past the wave of absolute love and care he felt for Dream and from him, he wanted so much to say something, anything to express the depth of what he was feeling, but all he managed to get out was:
"Dad"
Before once again falling into Dream's embrace and holding onto him as though the embrace was as necessary to the universe as Atlas holding up the sky.
They stayed that way for a long while.
Finally, with a wet laugh, Daniel managed to ask:
"You, you haven't messed with any of my other memories though, right?"
Dream didn't laugh back, but Daniel felt him smile that sad smile again.
"I swear to you the only memories I have touched have been the ones linked to this particular nightmare, one that should never have been yours in the first place."
Daniel nodded, pulling himself up once more to look Dream in the eye. "Well, that's alright then. But don't do it anymore, ok? I can't very well learn any lessons like dreams and nightmares are supposed to teach if I forget all the hardest ones, can I?"
"No, I suppose not"
"Let's go home? Ok? It's got to be almost morning, and I don't know about you but crying always makes me hungry. If you have time to come over to my apartment I'll make pancakes? You don't have to eat them but you could watch me if you wanted to?" Daniel finished with a laugh.
And this time, Dream's smile wasn't sad.
"I would like nothing more"
Daniel nodded, and took Dream's hands in his own as together they said:
"This Dream is Over"
The glass shattered, the torches flared and the shadows fled.
And they woke up to sunlight.
#gosh that took forever to edit!#anyway please enjoy!#my writing#endless heirs au#dream of the endless#morpheus#daniel hall#roderick burgess#dreamling#the sandman#sandman comics#sandman#sandman fic#long post#think this is the longest ive done so far
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For writing requests, how about 14. “As beautiful as always.” for SKK, with the twist that they’re not together yet!
Anon, I'm so terribly sorry for how long it took me to write this ><; I hope this more than makes up for the long wait! It ended up being a bit long, so I'm just posting it to Ao3. Hope that's all right! Enjoy~!
There was… something about Dazai Osamu. The way he got under everyone’s skin but still had them bending to his will. He manipulated, he lied, he pushed boundaries that normal people would just leave alone, and—
“I need Chuuya to be my date for Odasaku’s wedding.”
—and Chuuya fucking loved him. He hated Dazai for all of his bullshit, hated him for the way he’d wormed his way into Chuuya’s life and carved his own permanent place there. Hated all the ways that Chuuya didn’t hate him because somewhere along the line, his brain had confused loathing with adoration.
AO3 Link
#bsd#soukoku#skk#dazai x chuuya#bungou stray dogs#fake dating au#fluff and angst#dazai osamu#nakahara chuuya#moxie writes#writing prompt#i'm so sorry this took so long anon ><;;;;#i hope you enjoy!#if you see this please let me know!!
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Chapters: 1/13
Fandom: 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Charles | Grian/Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar
Characters: Charles | Grian, Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar
Additional Tags: Scar abducts a homeless man off the street. thats it that the fic, no beta we die like jimmy solidarity, Alternate Universe - Royalty, vaguely follow cannon events, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Summary:
It's a lonely trek back to the servant's quarters, made longer by the absence of another person. It isn't all bad. The quiet gives him plenty of time to reflect on the day's events. If someone were to tell him this morning that he'd end it being the king's personal guard and a servant of the royal palace, he'd laugh, call them an idiot, then pickpocket them for his troubles.
aka: the fic where Scar sweeps Grian off his feet and off the streets
#ohhh my god#this took me ages#and it will take so long to update#enjoy ahaha#writing#fanfic#3rd life#trafficblr#trafficshipping#scarian#desert duo#royalty#royalty au#please reblog#give me attention
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Fic Announcement!
Now More Than Ever
Updates Every Friday!
Snip & Major Tags Below! (warning for parental death/funeral in the snip)
~~~
Main Relationship(s): Chloe & Felix, Felix & Adrien
Other Relationships: Chloe & Adrien, Felix & Alix, Ivan & Felix, Ivan & Mylene, Felix & Original Characters (there's four of them), Adrien & Nino
Tags: Canon Divergent - Gabriel Agreste & Felix (the episodes), Good Felix, Nonbinary Felix, Aroace Felix, Aroace Alix, Queerplatonic Relationships, Bad Parent Gabriel, Angst, Bad Parent Audrey, Bad Parent Andre, Travelling, Long Distance Friendships, Akuma Attacks, Original Akuma, Good Parent Amelie, Journals, Hurt & Comfort, Original Characters
Fic Warnings: Parental death, themes of loneliness, child abuse, suicidal thoughts, strangling, self hate, non-canon-typical violence
Rating: Teen (T)
~~~
They’d chosen not to embalm the body.
Tiny whispers played like static at the edges of Felix’s ears. It felt wrong to stare at the closed casket, listening to the sounds of people shuffling around the room. The mournful crowd was made mostly of business partners and close friends; of all Colt’s relatives, only his sister had attended.
They could still envision the face they knew to be laying under mahogany wood. Two versions of it floated up through their mind. One was lively and full of laughter; the other was weary and broken down.
That face should still be beaming down at them.
Six months.
Six months was all it had taken for their world to turn upside down. They’d gone from travelling the world side by side to sitting at a bedside table, holding on to a weak hand and waiting for the moment its struggling heartbeat would give out under the skin.
They reached out a hand, letting it fall onto the cold wood of the casket. No one else would dare touch it out of respect for the deceased.
Felix couldn’t respect their father. He’d died.
~~~
Summary: It's been over a year since Felix's life flipped upside down. A year since their father passed away. And a year since the hunt for his missing journal collection began. The search sends Amelie and Felix to Paris, to confront their only suspect: Gabriel Agreste.
On the trip, Felix becomes concerned about Adrien's depression and makes the decision to move to Paris to be with him, leaving their mother and friends behind. This has the added advantage of giving them time to recover what’s rightfully theirs.
It's a perfect plan. Expose Gabriel as a liar and a thief, get Adrien away from him, and return home before the school year is out.
…they just forgot to account for the local terrorist, a team of dysfunctional superheroes, their traumatized childhood best friend, and their own fears that they've been running from.
It’s a good thing they’re flexible, right?
#Ink's Miraculous Stuff#pinned post#fyi I wrote this entire thing with my google docs set to British English#I am American#I don't know if anyone will notice but Felix is British so I wanted to be a bit more accurate that way#miraculous ladybug#it took me so long to make this post#I am not good at summaries or tagging#we have a love hate relationship#I've been working on this fic for over six months *SOB*#I love it and I hate it#too much time and energy spent not enough plot bunnies written#enjoy my currently 80k+ behemoth PLEASE#and *cough* the two sequels I will eventually write#miraculous big bang 2022#mlb big bang 2022#mlb bb 2022#I KILLED my wrist making that cover art please appreciate it
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Hi this is me asking you to pls tell me anything and everything about Ilaia if you’d like 👉👈
ok!! this is going to be a pretty long post!!
the story that this one is the backstory for has been sitting in my brain and like, four separate google docs, and my phone's notes for years. so i'm just gonna go to town with this.. enjoy!!
it also might have turned into me actually figuring out all the lore for this world.. so thanks for the ask!!
so........ this is the backstory for the world i've created. all this happens before the main story.
There was one goddess, She existed before everything and nothing had meaning. She eventually became lonely, so She made a world. Vast oceans, deep forests, freezing tundras, and scorching desserts. the world was beautiful, but with no one to share the beauty with, She still felt inconsolably lonely.
So She took of her own divinity, and made three children. Life, Death, and Creativity. The three grew, and as they grew, She made more siblings for her children. Six younger gods, to share the world She had made. Sky, Ice, Forest, Ocean, Flame, and Earth. These younger six divvied up the world between themselves, as the elder three preferred to live and work with their Mother.
She created a place for herself above the world so She could watch her children grow, and live, and make the world better for it. And She named the world Ilaia, to mean Forever.
But She could not be Forever. She fell ill, none knew how to help their Mother, her physical form grew weak, and She knew it would not last much longer, and so called all her children to speak with them.
"Do not mourn for me, children. But let this world not be empty. Create stewards to watch over it with you, create them in your image, as I created you in mine. Watch over them, help them, guide them. I will still Be, I will still watch over you, I simply cannot be with you."
As She took her final breath, she gave her children one last gift. A final child, their youngest sibling, meant to protect and nourish and care. And the child was Health.
The ten siblings followed their Mother's council. They each took of their divinity and made two stewards in their own image. These stewards became the Elves that inhabit Ilaia.
Without their Mother's power, the place She had created to be able to watch over her children sank through the sky, almost below the clouds. However, the children's respective magic was enough to buoy the place, and it became a floating island in the sky.
"Why don't you take the floating island, Health? After all, you came after the others and I had claimed our lands." Sky asked.
"No." Health disagreed. "I should like to stay here, below. Where I can help those who need me. You should live on the island, you are the eldest of us seven."
And so Sky gave his portion of Ilaia to Health, and brought several groups of Elves to live on the floating island.
The elder three gods had no stake in the lands of Ilaia. They traveled throughout the world, visiting and counseling with their younger siblings.
There was an issue among the gods. They possessed magic great enough to move mountains, rearrange the stars, and yet, no means by which to make use of it.
"What can we do?" The younger seven asked the elder three.
"I might have a solution." Creativity said. "Give it to your people. In small degrees so as to not destroy their bodies, but give them the magic needed to hold fire in their hands, or send rainfall to their fields. Give them the opportunity to receive more magic as they grow stronger, give them a way to understand us."
And so they shared their magic with the Elves. And the world went on.
Until... Creativity grew discontented, it stemmed from a place of loss. Even though hundreds of years had passed, he felt the loss of his Mother as strong as the day She left. And for him, Health only served as a reminder of that day. As much as he tried, a seed of resentment and hatred grew in his soul. And it corrupted him.
The corruption in Creativity's soul eventually turned him into something unrecognizable, the corruption blinded him to his intentions and emotions, until the only thing he could feel was sorrow and pain and hate. Creativity became Chaos, the love and respect he held for his siblings became hatred. After all, his siblings were pieces of Her, and remembering Her hurt.
He tried to run, but no matter where he went, reminders of Her were everywhere. Testaments to Her existence stood as if to mock him. So he destroyed it. He destroyed Her precious Ilaia.
The other gods set out to find him, Eventually finding him standing in the ruins of a great monument built on the floating island to honor Her. His hands were bloodied, tears stained his face, when he looked at the gods before him, he could only see Her.
Chaos walked toward what were his siblings, once. The one in front of the group, Health. It had all started with her, why couldn't she have come before She left him? Before She died? Before he was left alone.
Chaos lunged forward, grabbing Health by her hair and holding the small goddess aloft. "You! It's all your fault! You never should have come here, you never should have been made!" He screamed, raking sharp fingernails across the side of her face, leaving bloody tracks in their wake.
Life and Death rushed forward, Life released Health from Chaos' grasp, Death kept him where he was. "Why?" Death asked. "Why are you doing this? What happened to you?"
"I'm doing what I should have done hundreds of years ago!" Chaos snarled. "How is it? That you all can live so happily, knowing that She left us! She left us alone!"
"No! She didn't!" Health stood next to Life, blood still dripped down her face. "She's still here, She's still watching over us, She still loves us. How could you forget that?"
Chaos was taken aback. "But, but She. She's gone. She's gone, and there's nothing I can do about it! SO WHY SHOULD ANYTHING MATTER ANYMORE?!" He screamed, he raised his hands. Dark energy poured from his palms, hissing against the dirt beneath him, withering and destroying everything living in its path.
Life stepped forward, standing next to Death. "Crea- no. You're Chaos now, aren't you? No matter, this ends now." Life and Death raised their hands in unison. Magic shot toward Chaos with dizzying speed.
The blast of magic slammed into Chaos with such speed and force, that it knocked him backward. Shackles materialized around his wrists and neck, magical chains pulled him to the ground.
"No! NO, STOP IT!!!" Chaos snarled, his voice cracking with desperation. "LET ME GO! LET GO OF ME!!!!!" he screamed, powerless against the chains.
Life and Death stood over Chaos. "I promise." Life whispered, just loud enough for Chaos to hear. "I won't let you stay like this forever. I'll find a way to help you."
Chaos fought the chains, screaming and thrashing as they pulled him beneath the ground. Each of the remaining gods placed a seal over Chaos, locking him under the monument to their Mother until they could find a way to reverse the corruption that had taken over his soul.
And there he stayed, for centuries.
#the end#this was so long oh my gods#and its literally just the backstory and lore to the actual story that ive been writing for a while now#i hope you enjoyed lol#ignore any typos please#im begging you#i did not mean for this to get so long holy crap#have fun :3#this took at least two hours to write#i had a good time tho#wander writes#my writing#original writing#original story#my story#ilaia
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