There's a lot of themes and things and stuff in paranatural and I've been kinda going kinda crazy about coach Oop.
He's in a death life cult, he's failing to help his son's friend's, he left the room and took a nap while the gym class played hitball. He's just overwhelmingly depressed about his life and he's got a spirit powered by joy.
He's a spectral, He knows where Isabell and Ed live, he must know they're also spectrals. He's not related to the consortium so he's been in Cl M Bayveiw for a while, just, watching the days go by. This does mean that he could have also met June at some point, which would be funny.
He was so close, he was so close to.turning his life around, he could have joined a different cult, that taught him to eventually feel better about himself maybe. He gave Crush a decent fight and Crush saw right through everything. He might have been the first person in a long time to see a real picture of Oop. But now he's double dead, and Oop didn't do anything. He can never bring himself to do anything.
Do you think he lies awake at night replaying that whole night over and over again? Wondering? Wishing? Pretending that he did something different? He could still join up, he could still act. But he doesn't, because all he can see in himself is a coward. Because he can play the strong silent Ape he can play the Hog and he can finally feel like he's working towards something meaningful, something that's gonna make a change and he'll be rewarded for his hard work or he'll be a martyr. But does he really believe any of it?
I'm not sure if I can or want to condense this into something compelling but one of the overarching themes of paranatural is the failure of the previous generation, its all about being haunted by spirits, ghosts, your mom, your mistakes and your regrets.
Coach Oop is just a normal guy and the like 8 pages of his tragedy are just so incredible that he went from "haha gym teacher" to "a man burdened by shame and regret hopelessly trudging on through his life who was given a shot at a new start, but just couldn't bring himself to take it. He was begging himself to make a choice to have courage. But he just couldn't do anything." He could and should be able to blame Cat, she stole his defeat from him. But he won't actually blame her, he'll blame himself.
Title: To Continue On
Pairing: Mathias x Elisabetha
Summary: Mathias uses alchemy and knowledge of herbal medicine to create tonics for Elisa to drink. They would surpress her cough, and boost her immune system. They were not meant to cure, no, but to help. To give her more time. To give him more time. Mathias's love for Elisa is not questioned, this time, because he knows: His heart is hers even when he longs for another.
It's pain and I'm sorry y'all.
----
The tonic helped. A little. The spasms in her chest lessened, and her voice didn’t tremble as much. She smiled when he read to her, pressed kisses to his palm when he helped her from bed to the veranda. She leaned on him and said:
“I’m getting better. I promise.”
He kissed her temple.
“You don’t have to promise me anything, love.”
But inside? Inside Mathias was screaming.
Because she wasn’t.
She was stabilizing.
Floating.
Not healing.
And her family’s refusal to heed his instructions had cost her weeks, maybe more.
They had always preferred priests to potions.
“Pray and she will heal,” they told him.
“But prayers don’t stop blood in a handkerchief,” Mathias wanted to scream. “I know the alchemy. I know what works.”
But still he returned home to find her worse. Still, he swallowed his fury for her sake.
–
The mornings came slower now. The warmth of the sun touched her bones but didn’t stir them the way it used to. She sat in the window seat, a blanket across her knees, and watched the garden sway in the summer wind.
The birds still came.
The bees still hummed.
And yet her breath caught often, stubborn and thin in her lungs.
She was growing worse.
No one needed to say it—not the apothecary, not her mother, not even Mathias.
He tried, of course. Every day, he tried.
He’d made tonics, left carefully inked instructions, and whispered devotion in her ear at night when he thought she was half-asleep, but Elisabetha was not fragile in mind. Only body and she could feel him… slipping.
Not gone. Never cruel. Never cold. But part of him? Somewhere else.
“You’ve Made So Much of This,” she said.
Her fingers traced one of the vials he’d packed into the carved chest by her bedside.
Each was labeled. Dated. Marked with the times she should take them.
The notes written in his distinct, elegant hand.
“A few months’ worth,” Mathias murmured, kneeling beside her. “If you ration it well. It should ease the coughing. The fevers, too.”
She smiled softly, brushing his cheek.
“You’ve always been so careful.” And then, after a silence: “Will you be gone long?”
Mathias did not lie. He never lied to her.
“A few months. No more. The campaign is short, this one, at least.”
She nodded. She had long ago learned how to not cry when he left.
Instead, she reached for his hand and pressed it against her chest, just above her heart.
It beat unevenly beneath his palm, but it was still strong. Still hers.
“Then promise me you’ll come back to me. Whole.”
Mathias’s voice cracked as he leaned in.
“Only if you promise to still be here.”
They slept in each other’s arms.
Elisabetha, tucked against his chest, whispered about the garden’s roses, how they were late to bloom this year. He held her as if holding her tightly might anchor her here.
They did not speak of Leon. They did not speak of the ache in his voice when he read her letters from the Order and paused at the name…but she knew.
And she forgave him long before he could ask. She did not cry at the gate. She waved, her hand steady.
Mathias looked back once. She hoped he would look back again. He did.
And she turned inside, feeling the vials shift in the basket at her hip, one hand to her chest as another cough rattled free.
---
The window was open. Summer wind curled through the gauze curtains, carrying the scent of lavender and the distant bells from the church. The light hurt her eyes sometimes now, but she still loved to sit by the sill where the sun could warm her fingers and the world outside still felt reachable.
Elisabetha held the pen delicately.
Her hands trembled often, though she did her best to hide it from her maids and her kin. She didn’t want pity. She wanted…dignity. She wanted to be remembered as soft-spoken, not weak. Devoted, not fading.
She dipped the quill again and began:
My beloved,
If this reaches you, let it bring more comfort than sorrow. I have missed you each day you’ve been away. I do not say that to wound you, only to speak what is true. A heart such as mine, bound so tightly to yours, does not easily suffer separation.
I have kept your letters close. Some I read until the ink ran pale. Some I have memorized. In all of them, I see the man I married, and in some… I sense the man you are becoming.
I hope you are safe. I hope you have found light, even in battle. I hope you are eating well, and sleeping. And that the boy– Leon– continues to bring you joy. He must be nearly grown now. I hope he is kind to you.
I have begun to grow tired, Mathias. More tired than before. The tonics have helped, but only just. I do not fear what comes, I swear this to you. But I feel it drawing near like the hush before a storm.
Still… I am at peace.
Because I loved. And I was loved.
And in that, I think I have lived fully.
Her hand paused. She looked down at her fingers—so pale now. Like pressed flowers on silk.
She reached for the box on the bedside table. Inside were every one of his letters, tied neatly with a fraying red ribbon. She pressed them to her chest and exhaled a breath that sounded like a prayer.
Then, slowly, she removed her wedding ring.
She kissed it once.
And placed it beside the letter.
“In case he comes home and I am gone,” she told her maid later, “give this to him. Tell him I was proud. And that I loved him, always.”
Front and back of the Ace of Wands from a hypothetical Sailor’s Tarot deck with scrimshaw inspired designs. It was created for the @publishinggoblin’s upcoming project the Alleyway Oracles.
EDIT: A full Sailor’s Tarot deck will be available for preorder on kickstarter in March, 2026! Check the Sailor’s Tarot tag on my blog for updates!
oh fack.... just had my biweekly reminder that jonathan has only ever wanted to protect will from harm, offer him a safe space, and encourage him to love what he loves without shame, and it's all of that which literally saves will's life and keeps him safe when he's in the upside down and later in the shed scene.... will singing "should i stay or should i go" his favorite song which jonathan first showed him... will hiding out in castle byers which jonathan built with/for him.... the song then helping to give will an opening to take back enough control for him to speak to his family in morse code... the shadow monster + vecna + lonnie all symbolizing forced conformity vs jonathan protecting will from that time and time again by being there for him, seeing him, and loving him as he is... jonathan carries so much guilt because he feels like he's never there when will needs it most, but it's his love for will that kept will alive.... he feels like it's his fault that will was kidnapped, that he should've been there for him that night and onward, but he was there for him! he was with him the whole time, helping and protecting him as he always has!!! when stranded alone in a world so dark and so cold and full of monsters, will used the tools his brother had given him to protect himself... i just... they're so... 🥺 THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUUUUUCH 😭😭😭😭
