#going to call them sparknotes for now

[something-nunholy]

Fellas, is it fruity to draw an image of your nemesis onto your mirror in lipstick so that you can wipe it off nefariously??

[thewitchblue]

"Can you please talk to your girlfriend, Jason? I can't keep missing these League meetings because she finds it amusing to have Batman appear in the middle of a jungle."

Bruce sounded exasperated. He was getting seriously annoyed by your antics. Jason, however, found your shenanigans hilarious and encouraged you. He even set up a map for you to throw a dart to pick your next location. Last time, he ended up in front of the League of Assassins and had to fight his way out, entirely missing the League's meeting. Clark was nice and gave him the sparknotes, but what Bruce finds important is just not the same as what Clark finds important.

Jason chuckled at his frustration. He could tell you to stop, but you likely wouldn't. You'd only get petty, and he'd hate to find out what you do when you're petty.

"No can do, B. She's a free spirit."

Bruce sighed. It was getting so bad he started sending in Tim as backup, which has him starting to randomly appear in different locations as well. He can't keep up with your nonsense.

"Can I speak to her?"

Bruce was ready to do literally anything to get you to stop. You've been doing this for months now, and it's starting to get to him. He likes everything else about you. You're just irresponsible with your powers. You love to goad people on and pick fights just to see people's reaction to when you vanish. It's gotten so bad that every criminal knows about you. The goons don't bother with you anymore. You aren't an easy target in a backalley, so they don't care.

You, however, were relaxing in the watch tower after teleporting with Flash accidentally. He was already back and talking with you. He figured no harm done. You weren't evil, so it was fine by the rest of the League. Clark and Diana were excited to finally meet you.

"Why did you choose to date Red Hood?"

Clark asked. He would understand if you went after Dick or Tim, but you picked Jason, the troubled kid riddled with anxiety and attitude. You smiled warmly.

"He's my heart. I can't live without him."

Diana smiled fondly. You have the heart of a hero, which she admires greatly. She would love to train you to be a warrior like the warriors on her planet.

You were having quite a pleasant conversation with the iconic trio until you got a call from Jason. You paused and looked at your phone. Jason never calls. His social anxiety makes it easier for him to text than call. You answered the call once you snapped out of your thoughts.

"Are you dying?"

You asked immediately when you answered the call. Everybody quieted down. Is Jason about to die again? Jason sighed as if he was being forced to do something he didn't want to do. Suspicious. You narrowed your eyes in thought. Jason grumbled,

"Bruce wants to speak to you about your powers."

You breathed a sigh of relief. He's not dying. Well, not physically, at least. He's probably dying mentally. You can already hear his nervous joint cracking through the phone.

"I'll be there in a second."

You say your goodbyes and teleport to Wayne manor. You were awkwardly standing in front of the duo now. You gave Bruce a smile full of false confidence. Who can really blame you for being nervous around THE Batman?

"We need to talk about your powers."

Bruce cut straight to the point. Your eyes drifted to Jason for any clue as to what this could be about, but he seemed lost in a mental spiral. You frowned. His negative self-talk needs to be worked on. His poor knuckles are going to be sore with the way he's obsessively cracking them. It's a nervous habit he's developed since his death.

You gently took his large hands in yours to stop him. You'll kiss them when Bruce leaves. Absent-mindedly, you softly rubbed his knuckles to soothe any potential inflammation. You asked as if you didn't know exactly what he means,

"What about my powers?"

Bruce seemed to soften as he watched you take care of Jason. You were a natural at taking care of his son. You were the best thing to happen to Jason. He replied in a business tone,

"I would appreciate it if you stopped teleporting Tim and myself unless necessary. I have a list of acceptable situations that I have printed out for you."

He handed you a stack of papers. You blinked in confusion before reading through the first page of his ridiculous list of situations. He's incredibly specific and detailed. He even highlighted the most important scenarios.

"I know you have a panic button for Jason, but I think it would help a lot if everyone was given a panic button."

Jason snapped out of his spiral when he heard his name. He was floored at the tone Bruce has been taking with you. He was using the Batman voice with you: all business and no warmth. He snapped,

"Fuck off, she's doing none of that."

You gave his hand a light squeeze to get him to cool down his anger. He backed down immediately, but he seethed in silence. Jason is not going to allow you to be used by anybody, especially his family. You said with a shrug,

"I can't promise a button for everyone, but I guess I can make myself useful."

Bruce felt himself physically relax with relief. You can do so much in combat with teleportation, but he's content if you only want to focus on helping instead of fighting.

"Will you please let me attend my League meetings?"

You didn't want to, but you guessed he has suffered enough. The world needs Batman, after all. Batman is busy enough without needing to fight his way through an entire league of criminals.

"Fine."

He breathed a deep sigh of relief and left as you gently kissed Jason's hands. Your voice was too soft for him to listen in, but his eyes almost teared up seeing his troubled son at peace.

Jason needed you like he needed air. He needed your soft touches and slow kisses that pulled him from his racing mind. He needed your silent adoration and support. He needed the quiet words you whisper in his ear. He needed your fingers lightly tracing his scars as you mumbled about the constellations in his scars. You were a comfort he can cling to when he can't look away from his crowbar in the darkness or when he wakes up thrashing and panicking. He needed you with his entire being.

"You know not to wring your hands, pretty boy."

You murmured to him so softly nobody else can hear you. You know he hates being called pretty, but you always make sure he knows he's gorgeous in your eyes. He grumbles but allows you to massage his hands like you always do when he's anxious.

"I know, but I..."

You kissed his wrists tenderly, and he forgot what he was going to say. You smiled at him patiently, but the words escaped him entirely. His eyes softened, and he kissed you gently. He loved you deeply.

"No kissing in the cave."

Damian said with a scowl as he entered the Batcave. You smirked before teleporting him away. Jason wrapped his arms around you as a teddy bear fell onto the floor of the cave and asked,

"Where did he go?"

You gave him a wink and said,

"A certain farm with a very cuddly Kent."

Jason snorted in Gotham while Damian attempted to squirm out of Jon's grip on the Kent family farm. He replaced Jon's teddy bear, apparently, and now he's trapped under a sleeping Jon.

"I will end her bloodline!"

Damian vowed when he found himself unable to escape. He was seething. Jon sleeps like the dead. He won't wake up unless he gets slapped awake and Damian is pinned.

You snickered while Jason smirked. He would have loved to see Damian's face! His poor brother must be furious. It would be impossible to catch you, but he'd sure try.

"I love you so much."

[alittlewhelmed]

Imagine how Spider!Reader joins the Team

Notes: gn!reader, not proofread, kind of like an origin story. Enjoy!

m.list

Yellow star divider by @cafekitsune

You met the team through Artemis and Zatanna.

You were in Manhattan for a field trip when your spidey-senses led you to the two heroes running away from harm.

You had swung in and webbed Harm to a wall, nodding at the girls like you practiced in the mirror, "Sup?"

Then Harm got free and was all like: "The its called for backup, the its should know mere webs cannot stop Harm."

"My pronouns are actually they/them, thanks."

While following the Secret Girl across rooftops, you introduced yourself as the friendly neighbourhood Spider, at least in Queens that is.

After hearing their brief explanation of who they were and why they were in Manhattan fighting crime on Halloween night, you looked at Artemis and was like: "Boy trouble, huh?"

She almost fell off the roof at that.

Luckily for Artemis, you were interrupted by Harm taking you guys hostage.

You escape with the help of the Secret Girl, who turns out to be the ghost of Harm's sister, Greta.

"An actual ghost." Artemis breathed, staring wide-eyed at Greta.

"Ok, even for New York that's weird." You added, the lens of your mask wide.

With the help of Greta you guys defeat Harm and turned him into the police.

You said goodbye to Artemis and Zatanna, making them promise to come hang out if they were ever in Queens.

You never really expected anything more to come from that mission.

Until you return home and find Bruce Wayne in your living room having tea with your Aunt May.

He offered you an internship at the Wayne Enterprises in Queens, and charmed your Aunt with compliments about her cooking.

The internship was going to be in Wayne Enterprise’s R&D department, where he said your chemistry skills would be needed.

Huh, so apparently Bruce Wayne has seen your report card.

Aunt May was thrilled for you, and couldn’t stop smiling.

When Aunt May said she was going to get more cookies from the kitchen, Bruce Wayne turns serious and says that he has a friend who wants to meet you on your roof later that night.

Weirded out by the billionaire playboy, your curiosity still won out, and later that night you went to the roof.

After a few minutes of nothing you decided that Bruce Wayne was crazy and you should probably not accept his internship, no matter how well it pays.

Just as you turned around, a dark shadow dropped in front of you.

You weren't shocked, cause again, spidey-sense, but Batman is tall and doesn't smile, so you were nervous.

Cue the nervous explaining because you thought he was here for you for that one time you didn’t actually read the book assigned for your book report.

"I swear Mr. Batman, I was going to read the actual book, but Lord of the Flies is really boring and SparkNotes was really helpful - "

“This is about Spider.”

Turns out when Artemis and Zatanna reported about that maniac Harm, they also mentioned you to Batman, who sent his friend Bruce Wayne to come scope you out.

“So do vigilantes just have billionaires on speed-dial? Or are you guys roommates?”

Batman actually paused at that, and his features shifted to a dark glare, “What are you suggesting?”

Now you were really glad you said roommates instead of boyfriends.

Anyways, Batman offered you a position on his covert team of young heroes, and said that his “friend” Bruce Wayne was willing to let you use the internship as a cover story, and pay you for your time on the team.

It was a good deal, so you accepted.

“You might need this.” Batman hands you a sleek briefcase before grappling away.

You don’t watch him go, instead choosing to open the briefcase (definitely Batman’s intentions).

And inside is a suit, with the same colour and design as your homemade suit.

You look in the direction Batman swung off in, “Thanks, Batman.”

“I’ll be sure to relay your thanks.” Robin pipes up.

It’s a good thing Robin had his grapple on hand when you judo-flipped him off the roof.

Thank you for reading!

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[cynassa]

we were twenty for such a short time

Nightwing found him. It unnerved him, because he hadn't expected to. Red Hood was sitting on a crumbling ledge, helmet off, cigarette stuck in the corner of his mouth. He didn't look like he was out of his mind, or going to go for a gun or knife.

"Why'd you do it?" Nightwing asked, carefully maneuvering himself out of the way of the heavy-looking desk that could be flung at him.

Red Hood grunted. "Don't suppose you've got antiseptic in there somewhere?"

Nightwing shrugged, letting it ripple all over him, where, it should be eminently clear, there was no place for a first-aid kit.

"Figures," Red Hood muttered.

Nightwing set his hip against the wall, not close enough to get in range of Hood's vicious front kick, but close enough to throw an electrified escrima stick at him if necessary. Black Bat was ten minutes away, as was Robin with the Batmobile. Ideally they would get this sorted before Batman was finished and could become involved. He just had to stall for ten - no, nine minutes now. With an on-edge Hood who had killed - no, executed - executed three people.

Hood nodded at the table.

Nightwing raised an eyebrow.

"Why I did it," Hood said. "Since you asked. I'd offer tea and scones with 'em but whoopsy, seems like I'm all out."

A quick flick of his eyes showed three neat nondescript folders. He'd have to put his back to Hood to read them.

Eight minutes.

"Not much of a reader, me," Nightwing drawled. "Why don't you give me the Sparknotes version?"

Hood snorted. He finally lit the cigarette. "Cappello's wife begged me to," he said.

Nightwing tensed.

"Had a porn ring, she said. He's a cop though, so she couldn't get away. Then her girl got old enough to contribute and she just wanted him dead," he said, sounding... exhausted. "Watson was a pimp too. The women told me that he was okay for a bit and then he got greedy and things got worse. Tried putting the fear of Hood into him at first but he'd heard that I was with the Bats, so he just beat them to shut them up after I left. Had some Family connections too, FBI fuckers wouldn't touch him."

He stopped, took a puff at his cigarette.

Seven minutes

Dick was abruptly tired. The Rogues were one thing. But this. These horrors of America's crime capital were unending. A man could die trying to hold them up.

"And Stewart? He was in jail," Dick said.

Jason smoked his cigarette slowly. It was a Marlboro Red Long. Still the same cigarette.

Six minutes

"Stewart, Danny M.," Jason said. "He'd been in juvie, you know? Got off after three months on 'count of good behavior. Kept the connections though. Plenty of connections in his jail too, enough to keep his little racket in the juvies running. And who cares if some street rat with a record goes missing from time to time. Mayor probably called it housekeeping when he took the money from him."

"And so it's got to be you who actually cleans house instead?" Dick asked, wishing he could throw his sticks at Jason, wishing he could put them down and- and?

"Who else do they got?" Jason asked, squinting at Dick. "I tried doing it the other way for a bit, y'know," he said, almost sympathetically.

"Right," Dick said. "For all of five minutes."

Five minutes

Jason shrugged. "Bit more'n that. But yeah, people would come to me and beg me to help them, rescue them, and I'd get these fuckers sent to places that would -- like, pedos don't last long in jail, y'get me? Or sometimes I'd just bribe the jail catering to give them something. But then people stopped being afraid of me, and it all got worse. Twice the effort for less than half the results. I didn't have any control over the trades here anymore, arms trafficking had gone up, they'd started human trafficking again."

Jason had just been killing people anyway. Of course he had.

"You thought that was the other way? Bribing other people to kill..." Dick wanted to bash his face in. "You thought that was right?"

"I'm not the one who does the right thing," Jason said. "That's on you, Big Bird. I'm just the one filling in the gaps the light doesn't reach."

"That's an easy fucking excuse," Dick bit out.

Four minutes

"All these people suffering, and I was sitting with my thumbs up my ass because I wanted a family, while they were losing theirs, how was that right?" Jason continued, like he hadn't heard Dick. "I'd been brought back to do one job, and I couldn't do it, because I was desperate to--" there was a tear at the end of one eye.

"That's not-" Dick gasped, "this isn't what you were brought back for! That's not true."

Jason shook his head. "You don't know that. You don't know how I was brought back."

"Neither do you!" Dick snarled at this nonsense, now wishing he really had just bashed his head in.

"Nah, but I know what it was for," Jason said, oddly peaceable. "I know what I gotta do, and then I can die."

"You can still stop," Dick pleaded, afraid suddenly, of something he couldn't name.

Three minutes

"Nah," Jason said, sad but placid. "There ain't no way but this for me anymore. Sorry, Big Bird. I'll miss you though. I'll miss most of you, I think."

"And now I've got to bring you in," Dick said, voice cracking. "Did you think of that? That now I've got to-"

"Can't let you do that, 'm afraid, still got a job to do," Jason said, half-smile on his face, turning to him finally, pushing off the ledge and moving forward, dropping the cigarette on the table.

Two minutes

Dick squeezed his sticks but didn't raise them. Jason moved swiftly, grabbing his face roughly and leaning down - because he was taller now, because he wasn't the little wing yearning to reach five foot, because he had died - to roughly kiss Dick's forehead. "Take care of yourself, Robin," he whispered and then shoved Dick back.

Dick had tensed in preparation but was still shoved back by Jason's sheer strength. By the time he leapt forward, Jason had thrown himself out of the window. The red Bat wasn't on his armor anymore.

Dick glanced out of the window just long enough to see Jason tumbling into a red moving truck. Then he sensed something and abruptly looked up to see the cigarette had lit up the files unnaturally well, as if they already had a flammable coating. This seemed to trigger some other mechanism, and the building slowly started going down - making a groaning noise as if in warning.

One minute

Dick unhooked his grapple and dived out, landing lightly on the Batmobile as the building slowly but surely came crashing down, so thoroughly destroyed that there was no way anything could be rebuilt again.

I give you back 1948.   

I give you all the years from then

to the coming one. Give me back the moon   

with its frail light falling across a face.

Give me back my young brother, hard

and furious, with wide shoulders and a curse   

for God and burning eyes that look upon   

all creation and say, You can have it.

[sparta369]

I bought slay the princess but haven’t started it ‘cause it kinda intimidates me, can you convince me to play it?

Ok now I know you just asked me to convince you to play it but hear me out

Don't play it yet

There's a huge, Free Content expansion coming out on the 24th of this month, in just 8 days called The Pristine Cut, which is going to expand the game by about 35%. The Devs themselves have said to wait for the expansion release if you haven't played it already lol

That being said, I'd never pass up an opportunity to gush about one of my favorite games ever created

I realized far too late that I'd accidentally written far more than either of us probably wanted. So I'll try to sparknotes it, and leave the full thing below the cut.

The less you know going in, the better. However, it is still a horror game. You can find a list of content warnings here. It's just a list, so it doesn't really reveal very much.

A single playthrough lasts about 3-4 hours on average, though I can guarantee you'll want to do more than one. The game is positively dense with choices. It's impossible to see everything in one playthrough, and one would be hard-pressed to have the exact same playthrough twice.

Words cannot really capture how much I love this game. It's story masterfully crafted with a vast ocean of choices for the player to make, all of which make a true and profound impact on the narrative. If you enjoyed Disco Elysium or The Stanley Parable, You'll like Slay the Princess. The game was lovingly hand-drawn, pencil on paper, and the music was beautifully composed. The voice acting, featuring the talents of Nichole Goodnight and Jonathan Sims, are also, in my opinion, phenomenal.

I truly cannot express the emotional impact this game has left me with. It's a game I'll carry with me for the rest of my life.

Whether you intend to stop here or read on, I'll leave you with this one screenshot. It's only text, and it's literally the second thing you see upon booting up the game, so don't worry about spoilers lmao

"Whatever horrors you may find in these dark spaces, have heart and see them through."

"There are no premature endings. There are no wrong decisions."

"There are only fresh perspectives and new beginnings."

"This is a love story."

Oh boy you clicked the "keep reading" button :o) I wrote this over the course of most of my day today before I realized exactly how long it was. Besides a small change to the end, I'm going to leave most of it un-touched, just for the sake of preserving whatever the hell was going on in my head at the time :o)

Slay the Princess is one of those games where, the less you know going in, the better, So I'll do my best to convince you without revealing anything.

Still, though, It is a horror game. If you would like to look through it just in case, you can find a list of content warnings on their website here. It gives a list of many things you may encounter, but there is a 0% chance that you will encounter all, or likely even half, of the things described in there. In addition, they present these things in a way that reveals as little as possible. Still, I would personally recommend against reading through them, but there's no shame or judgement if you go dig through it. You know yourself better than anybody, if you think ya need it that's fine.

There's also some flickering image effects & a parallax effect that has caused motion sickness for some players, but both of these can be disabled in the settings.

With all that out of the way...

Words truly cannot explain how much I love this game.

It is an absolute masterwork of interactive narrative storytelling. No other game I've played or heard of in my life gives as much weight to every single choice you make, every little thing you do. There are so many choices and possibilities, and not once does the game ever make you feel like you've chosen "wrong." It's impossible to see everything in one playthrough, and you would be hard-pressed to get the exact same playthrough twice. Quite literally, every time I've watched somebody else play the game, they happened upon something I'd never seen before, despite me having 100% of the achievements.

One playthrough usually takes around 3-4 hours, but you will almost certainly want to do more than one.

There are also a number of places where you can safely and logically pause and come back later, should you need to.

The narrative itself is expertly woven. The storytelling is phenomenal, interweaving paralyzing fear with heart-aching beauty, while also carrying a healthy amount of comedy at carefully chosen places. The themes carry through beautifully. I've cried actual tears on more than one occasion, and it's not easy to get that out of me. Slay The Princess is a story that will be a part of my heart for as long as I live.

If you've played and enjoyed Disco Elysium, you'll enjoy Slay The Princess.

If you've played and enjoyed The Stanley parable, you'll enjoy Slay The Princess.

I know that I often struggle with games that require a lot of reading, and that includes a lot of visual novel type games.

Thankfully, the game is, for the most part, fully voice-acted :) The very few bits that aren't voiced are that way for narrative reasons hee hoo

The voice acting itself is, in my opinion, phenomenal. Both actors put their heart and souls into their roles, and their care shows in their performances. The Princess is voiced by Nichole Goodnight & the Narrator is voiced by Jonathan Sims (Who you may recognize from The Magnus Archives, if you were ever into that).

The art of the game is beautiful. It is all lovingly hand-drawn, pencil on paper. Thousands of images, and even a few animations, all coming together to form a wonderfully unique visual style that lends itself well to the game itself.

The soundtrack of this game, composed by Brandon Boone & with vocal performances by Amelia Jones, is absolutely breathtaking. It does a phenomenal job setting and supporting the tone of the game, whether it be tension, fear, hope, joy, or anything between and beyond. I can't put it's beauty into words.

Brandon Boone actually just recently won the "Game Music Award" at the World Soundtrack Awards for his work on Slay The Princess, and I deeply believe that it was 100% deserved.

This is... probably far more than you ever asked for. But I mean it when I say that Slay the Princess is one of my favorite games of all time. I mean it when I say that Slay The Princess is a story that will be a part of my heart for as long as I live. I'll take any opportunity to make more people play it, in hopes that it might impact them even a fraction as much as it has impacted me. I've bought a total of 11 copies of this game (1 for myself, 9 which were distributed to friends, and one that's coming with the Collector's Edition)

As my final word, I'll once again remind you:

"Whatever horrors you may find in these dark spaces, have heart and see them through."

"There are no premature endings. There are no wrong decisions."

"There are only fresh perspectives and new beginnings."

"This is a love story."

[mistydeyes]

makeup wipes and cleansing balm - running mascara pt. ii

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summary: After a long argument and scathing words from your significant other, it’s time to face them again. Will they apologize or are you left to clean up your tears and mascara on your own?

read pt.i here!

pairing: Task Force 141 x fem!Reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of depression/mental illness/seperation anxiety

💌 @glitteryeggalmondherring (the og requestor!), @ananas26t, @delilahhhh403, @batmanunicorns523, @zzzennin, @ghostslittlegf, @ihavemanychickens

a/n: you guys went FERAL over this! hope you enjoy part ii! literally just realized how long this was omg

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price

After you stormed out in the middle of the night, you found yourself at the doorstep of your friend’s flat. “God what are you doing here so late?” he said as he rubbed his eyes. It was 3 am after all. However, as he saw your puffy eyes and how you were in your pajamas, he let you in. You sat across the counter, giving him a Sparknotes version of the previous night’s events. “I can’t believe he would say that to you,” he mused as you gingerly sipped on your tea. “I know, it surprised me too,” you uttered, “mind if I use your washroom and splash some cold water out of my face?” He nodded and you found your way to the bathroom. You breathed out as you examined your puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You splashed the cold water with your hands and as you turned off the tap, you heard your friend answer the door. 

At first, the voices were muffled and you dried your face with the towel. However as they approached the kitchen, you realized you heard the baritones of John as he pleaded with your friend. “John, she doesn’t want to see you,” you could hear your friend say through the closed door. You placed the towel down and held your ear to the wood to get a better sense of the situation. “I know, I know, I ju–“ your friend cut John off. “You know what, John? As I said before, she doesn’t want to see you.” You could hear John sigh before sitting down on the couch. “I know I said some things I shouldn’t have but I just want to apologize,” he said and you could hear the defeat in his tone. The floor creaked slightly as your friend sat down next to him. “Do you know how many nights she sat waiting for you? How many cold dinners that she threw out in the morning when you failed to walk through the door? Of course, you wouldn’t know, you weren’t the one she was calling every fortnight!” your friend exclaimed and you were surprised at his rising tone. There was a pause before he continued. “You have some goddamn nerve coming here after what you said to her. She made that house a home and the first thing you do to thank her is berate her? I couldn’t fucking believe it when she showed up at my doorstep.”

There were more words exchanged as you wondered what to do. You couldn’t stay in this bathroom forever and it was clear John knew you had headed here. You wondered if you could fit through the small window. As you plotted your escape, the bathroom door flung open. You turned around to see John standing there with a surprised look on his face. “I told you to not go in the bathroom,” your friend scowled at John. You stared at him blankly and protectively wrapped your arms around yourself. “Hello, John,” you spoke coldly and tried to move around him but he blocked your path. “Are you gonna let me pass?” you asked as you looked up at him. “Will you come home?” he requested and you held your gaze with tears in your eyes. “Depends.” The tension was clear in the room and before your friend could interrupt, John closed and locked the door behind him. You took a step back in the now enclosed space as you realized your exit was closed. You avoided his gaze as he took a step forward, attempting to hold your cheek.

“You can’t just win me back by trapping me in here,” you responded as you peeled his touch off of you. He looked at you sadly and swallowed, trying to find the words to say. “I know,” he began, “and you can tell me to stop.” You nodded at his contentions and leaned against the wall. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, hell, I wouldn't either," he said with a chuckle and you struggled to suppress a small smile, "but I am so sorry for taking my frustrations out on you." "I understand you were frustrated but it was what came after," you trailed off, "you made me feel so inconsequential, John, and I think that's what hurt the most." You tried to shake the tears that were bubbling to the surface but soon they permeated your face. "Please, don't cry," he consoled and grabbed a few tissues for you. You trembled at his touch as he wiped them away. "I know I ask a lot for you and don't give much back but I always appreciate you," he whispered and you leaned into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you as you continue to sob uncontrollably. "You don't owe me anything but will you please come home?" he begged and you looked up at him. As you wiped furiously at the tears, he kissed your forehead gently. "It isn't the same without you there, love," he whispered, pulling you back into his soaked torso. "I think I would like that," you muttered into his chest. You spent a few moments in each other's embrace before you emerged from the bathroom. "I'll be heading home now," you called to your friend and he waved you off. "Don't make her cry again, John, or you're a deadman," you could hear him whisper as he held John back for a moment. For the first time, you could see the words shutter through him. "I promise."

soap

Your eyes shot open with the radiant morning light and you groaned in response. You felt like absolute shit. What would normally be a gorgeous morning was already draining. You rolled your sore shoulders and tried to run your fingers through your tangled hair. Despite being in bed, you were both physically and emotionally exhausted. The entire night Johnny kept pounding on the door and pleading for you to open it. He had tried every tactic in the book and eventually, you had fallen asleep in exhaustion. As you got up and heard the bed creak, the knocking resumed. Bastard must’ve slept on the floor. “Y/N please just open the door,” he pleaded through the closed door. “Can’t hear you!” you shouted back, “too busy being a fucking buzzkill in here!” “I just want to talk to you.” “And I don’t, so just leave me alone,” you replied angrily and you could hear his footsteps exit the flat.

Minutes later as you were playing on your phone, you screamed as you heard a loud knock on the balcony’s door. “What the fuck!” you shrieked as your head whipped around. Johnny stood there panting as he tried to fix himself. He looked worse off than you and you were baffled that he had climbed up to the second story. “Why are you on my balcony?” you asked as you wrapped yourself in the duvet. “You wouldn’t talk to me out there, so I thought about a change in setting,” he said, almost questioningly. God, why did you have to date a military sergeant? You stood there shocked for a moment before you were able to formulate a sentence. “If I hear you out, will you leave me alone?” He paced around a bit before agreeing to your terms. “Will you let me in?” he asked, pulling at the locked door. “Not a fucking chance, I can hear you perfectly clear in here.”

He took a deep breath before he walked closer to the glass. "I'm so sorry, I took it too far," he said quietly and looked for your response. "Johnny, it's always too far with you," you sighed, "I don't know where you get off with these things?" He nodded as you continued to let out your frustrations. "Every time I think we have talked it out, you go and do something more infuriating!" your tone was beginning to build and you could feel your voice reverberate through the room. He looked like a kicked puppy but you wanted him to hear all of it. "I just don't understand why you feel the need to embarrass me like that, especially in front of people that you talk so highly of," with this last statement you trailed off and the defeat was evident in your voice. "I'm sorry that it had to come to this for me to realize," he replied, a sudden acceptance in his tone, "I know I take jokes too far but I never meant to hurt you." You sat up in bed and faced him, preparing to hear him out. "I should've known better but I hear you now," he said sheepishly and rubbed his neck as he looked at you again. You tried to avoid his gaze but you could feel your anger begin to wear away. "I don't want to argue like that again, Johnny," you said, now sounding more broken and exhausted than before, "I want us to enjoy our time out." "I want that too and I promise there won't be a next time when you're sleeping alone," he comforted and that was all you needed to hear.

You got up from the bed and unlocked the door. He entered cautiously and held his arms out for you. You readily returned his embrace and you swayed slightly as you both said nothing. "I missed you," he whispered and you placed a hand on his cheek. "I missed you too, you bastard." He led you gently back into bed and you got under the soft covers. "How about we spend a night in? Watch a movie with some pints?" he offered and you readily agreed. You laid on his chest and played with his calloused fingers, settling in each other's presence. "Maybe after a shower, you smell a little ripe to me," you joked and you could feel his chest rise in laughter. "Might need to go running with Gaz again," he said through chuckles, "that climb to the balcony was awful."

gaz

After your fight with Kyle, you had been spending a few nights with a close friend. You practically moved into her flat and she had graciously let you have the couch for the past week. You had been comfortable thanks to your “overzealous spending.” It afforded you the luxury of a wardrobe and endless amounts of takeout food. Despite the positives, you could tell your friend was growing tired of your presence. “You need to go back,” she said to you softly as you went to grab another Lo Mein box. You wiped a stray noodle from your face and looked at her. “I know, I just don’t want to talk to him.” “You don’t have to, but you should go home where you aren’t living in Amazon boxes.” In comedic timing, both of you turned to see the pile of boxes and bags with sweatpants and t-shirts. You swallowed down another bottle of cheap beer before you conceded. “I’ll go back tomorrow, I promise.”

As your friend dropped you off at your flat, you could feel your stomach churn. "It'll be alright, call me later," she reassured before you saw her car turn down the street. She had kindly given you a duffle to hold your clothes and you held it in your hand as you keyed in. You took a deep breath before you entered. Part of you secretly hoped that Kyle had left and you would have a moment of peace. However, your optimism was shattered as you saw him sitting on your couch. “Hey,” you responded flatly before making your way to the bedroom. You hoped he would let you go and relish in the silence but you knew your fiancé wasn't such a person. As you entered the cleaned bedroom, you heard the floor creak as he followed behind you wordlessly. “Can we talk?” he said defeated and you turned your back to unpack your things. “I’m listening.”

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. “God this was so much easier in my head.” You scoffed and Kyle knew he was starting to lose you further. “I’m sorry for what I said before and I'll stand apologizing hundreds of times just to have you forgive me," he said, the words exiting his mouth quickly and having a sense of nervousness in them. You crossed your arms, still looking away from him before you replied. "It's not a matter of apologizing, Kyle," you muttered, "I just don't understand where all that venom and anger came from." You could hear him hold his breath and shuffle slightly. "I didn't think it through," he explained, "I kept saying those things and not realizing how much they hurt you." You shook your head in response and resumed opening the drawers to put your new sweatpants in. You tried to put on an uncaring facade but no matter what Kyle was saying now, couldn't make up for how broken you felt. You let a few silent tears fall before you could feel Kyle put a hand on your shoulder. You turned your head and you could see the immediate shock in his eyes as he tried to brush your soaked cheeks.

"Fuck, love, oh my god-" he began to say in a fervor, "I didn't mean to say what I said, and fuck I didn't mean to make you cry." Maybe it was seeing him in front of you but you let your guard down and began to uncontrollably sob. He pulled you into his lap and sat on the duvet as you crumbled. "I-I don't know why I'm like that-" you began to fumble on your words, "I just love shopping and you're not here and I get sad and-" Kyle silenced your tearful rambles. "Love, you aren't to blame here, you don't need to apologize," he reassured and you tried to quell your tears. "I always ask the most from you when I'm deployed and I'm so sorry I made you feel like this," he whispered and you nodded. "Maybe I'm the one with the separation issues," he chuckled, "I just want to know I'm needed in your life even though you're my strong independent woman." You smiled at this and kissed him on the cheek gently. "That'll do for an apology, Sergeant," you mused and you both hugged for a moment. When you separated, he kissed you gently. "Are we okay?" "Of course, we're okay, Kyle, we always figure it out."

ghost

Despite Simon’s harsh words and cold demeanor, you had slept like a baby. Just another benefit of going to therapy and learning how to healthily cope with conflict. You rubbed your slightly puffy eyes before you laid back down in bed. Halfway through the night, you remember hearing the front door close and eventually smelling the pungent odor of cigarette smoke waft into the bedroom window. Simon was presumably out there for a while as you fell asleep before he had come back in. You hoped that he hadn’t returned but nonetheless, you decided to make your way to the kitchen for some breakfast. You had nothing to say to him so why let him interrupt your day?

As you exited the bedroom and went to the kitchen, you could see he was already up and sitting at the kitchen island. He was hunched over a cup of black coffee as you grabbed a cereal bowl. You didn't bother with pleasantries and continued to the pantry. You could feel his gaze follow you as you went through the motions of pouring your favorite cereal and milk. You were just about to walk back to the bedroom when he spoke up. “I just wanted to say before I start, I’m not good at these things,” he said quietly, almost in a whisper. You laughed harshly at his demeanor. “Wow what a fucking way to start an apology,” you replied bitterly, “if you can even call it that.” You brushed past him but he put a hand out, blocking your path. You looked at his eyes, fraught with insomnia, as he spoke. “Please just give me five minutes.”

You stepped back from Simon and leaned against the counter adjacent to him. You could tell his nails were raw from biting them. A bad habit of his. In the tense air, you quietly crunched on your cereal as he tried to find the right words. “I’m sorry for what I said to you, I didn’t mean to generalize therapy like that,” he said and you could tell he was struggling. You put your half-eaten bowl down and took a deep breath. "What you said hurt me, Simon" you began to say and you could feel the tears coat your cheeks. "I know,” he whispered with a sudden gentleness, “that’s why I want you to yell at me, curse at me, tell me how much I messed up!” his tone began to rise. You stood further into the counter as you worried if this would lead to another screaming match. "Simon, please don't yell," you let out quietly and he could see the slight hint of fear in your glossy eyes.

He sipped his coffee and tried to regulate your breathing as you stared at the now soggy cereal. "I'm sorry for raising my voice," he apologized and his tone was much softer than before. You could tell how much this argument affected him and you realized how much you missed him despite his flaws. “Just please don't leave me,” he choked out and tears were fully streaming down your face. You walked over to him and pulled him into a hug. You held him tightly and he returned your embrace by wrapping his arms around your waist. He looked up at you and wiped away your tears. “I’m sorry for taking out my frustrations on you,” he whispered as he looked into your eyes. You blinked a few stray tears away and placed your arms around his neck. “I understand Simon," you said softly, "and I'll always be here for you but I think therapy could be a good thing” he looked away and you placed a hand on his cheek to turn him to you. "I know it's difficult, I've been there but it doesn't hurt to consider some options," you continued and he nodded at the suggestion. "You don’t deserve all the shit life has thrown at you. You never did but let others help you," you concluded and you could see a small smile on his lips from your words of wisdom. "I'll never leave, I promise," you whispered before you kissed him gently and made him feel whole again.

[praisetheaxolotl]

The Arsonist Theory, Part 2: We Get It, The Billboard Was A Metaphor

Part 1: Mandibles!

First off, I want to say thank you all for giving the first part of my theory such love! I appreciate each and every one of you and I'm so happy that you all like my theories so much!

For those who are new here, the Arsonist Theory proposes that Bill wasn't alone in destroying his dimension- rather, he was used by a third party. This is part two of four, with the remaining two parts coming out very, very soon.

Also, same as before:

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE BOOK OF BILL, INCLUDING SOLUTIONS TO CIPHERS

Let's get into it, shall we?

In The Great Gatsby, certain motifs have more than one symbolic meani-- no, really, stay with me here!!

...Okay, fine. Let's back up.

In the Book Of Bill, you'll find a webpage called thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com. Go there, and you'll be prompted to enter a password. Go back to the Book of Bill, and hidden in a stretched-text section, you'll see the phrase NEED A PASSWORD? FINE, I'LL TALK / IT'S THE NAME OF THE EYEBALL DOC.

"The eyeball doc" is from the excerpts of The Great Gatsby further back in the book-- T.J. Eckleburg.

(Honestly, this explanation is moreso that context doesn't get lost to time.)

So... Gatsby. T.J. Eckleburg.

Hirsch could have chosen any number of public domain novels for that gag in the book... so why this one? Why tie it in by making it the password?

I believe it has some significance to the greater plot. Furthermore, eye doctors in general are a large point of Bill's early life in Euclidia. Take the silly straws- the red one has a numeric cipher, while the other three use a Caesar cipher.

In the order of RGBY, they read as follows:

TWISTED OUT OF SHAPE AFTER THE KILL / THE GHOSTS OF HIS FAMILY ARE HAUNTING HIM STILL Eye doctor of a different kind / Who wants to make his patients blind The doctor says / Three sips a day / Will make the visions / Go away Fussy eater / Baby Billy / Wouldn't drink / Unless it's silly

These ciphers refer to a certain couple of tidbits Bill tells us about his home.

One- He could see the third dimension. A rare mutation.

Two- Talking about it at all was illegal.

So, what were his parents to do when their son started talking about nonsense that was illegal to even mention? Well, if your child started acting strange and seeing things that weren't there... you would take them to the doctor.

It's clear to me that Bill's parents were concerned about the "visions" their son was experiencing, and took him to the doctor to cure them- an eye doctor that wants to make his patients blind. The blue straw explains how the medicine is supposed to work. The yellow straw explains why Bill has such a fondness for silly straws- he was a picky little kid, and hated his medicine, so his parents got him silly straws to drink it out of.

I wonder if that's why he collects them- because they remind him of home, of his mother urging him to take his medicine, of his life before all of this happened.

But never mind all that.

The thing is, an eye doctor is crucial to Bill's past, which of course brings me back to T.J. Eckleburg.

In The Great Gatsby, certain motifs have more than one symbolic meaning, and the eyes of T.J. Eckleburg are no exception.

(Okay full disclosure, I have not actually read Gatsby and I'm Sparknotes-ing this shit. But, so did all of you when you were assigned this in high school, so we're even.)

They appear on a billboard in a place called the Valley Of Ashes, and at first, they seem to symbolize God. But as the scenes continue, they take on a different meaning.

See, our POV character, Nick, is going on this journey to meet the mistress of his friend. Nick is aware that this is an immoral action, yet does it anyway. Now, the eyes of Eckleburg cast judgement... along with issue a warning.

They now take on a new meaning-- a foreboding omen about the tragedy that lies in wait, inching ever closer. The tragedy in Gatsby being the death of Myrtle, the mistress, and subsequent string of deaths that follow it-- and, curiously, Nick states that the eyes of Eckleburg almost supernaturally draw him someplace... which ends up being where Myrtle is.

Both a higher being, and a warning of a horrible tragedy that ends in death upon death upon death... curious!

What's more curious is when Bill is admonishing the story and Un-Gatsby-ing us, he says this:

The billboard is a metaphor? Why mention that? Out of all the symbolism in this book, why the billboard? Is it because it was mentioned in the preceding pages? Then why mention the theme of the American Dream being a myth? That wasn't on those pages! If you had to mention symbolism, the green light would have been the most iconic example of it from the book.

So why the billboard?

Is, perhaps, the image of some sort of higher power watching you, admonishing you of the tragedy you will have a hand in causing, supernaturally pulling you to someone that will be the catalyst for it all.... relevant somehow, to Bill?

(And, as a sidenote- the theme of the American Dream being hollow could also apply here, as Bill got what he wanted- freedom into the third dimension, Weirdmageddon, all of it. But he's still not happy and still wracked with guilt over Euclidia, ultimately an interloper in a place he doesn't belong in, just as Nick says at the end of the novel that he is a Midwesterner unsuited to life in the East Coast city.)

Let's talk about Flatland.

It's interesting to note that in the original novel, A. Square does have help witnessing the third dimension-- a Sphere contacts him, and tells him about the third dimension, intending to use the Square as a conduit to educating the rest of Flatland.

This, of course, leads to mass imprisonments and executions, one of said imprisonments being of the Square's own brother, with the Square being imprisoned himself at the end of the book.

Point being... in the original story of Flatland, the two-dimensional outsider was visited by a higher being, one that used him to alter Flatland and only ended up causing chaos and ruining lives.

All I'm saying is, the Book of Bill and Bill's story in general draws parallels to two existing books-- Flatland, and now The Great Gatsby. It would be foolish to write this off as a random occurrence when the game of Gravity Falls has always been analyzing the smallest of details. I believe the choice in book was on purpose, and moreso, that it was specifically used to hint that maybe Bill wasn't alone in all this. There was some kind of higher being that influenced him, just as the Square was influenced. That looked down upon him with impossibly wide eyes, pulling him closer and closer to ruin.

Oh, by the way-- Bill up there mentions being touchy about his weaknesses ever since... something. This is clearly his death, but... is that all he means? But that's gonna be in part four.

Next time, it's all about the many cycles and the distinct breaking of them present in Gravity Falls itself, and what that means for Bill as the villain and foil to them.

Part 3: Journey To The Vicious Spiral Nebula

Part 4: Blame The Arson, Not The Fire

[ask-rick-j-lotf]

[Quiet. Serene. Just like the island should be.]

[But then a fly passed by. Then another. Then with the flash of an eye, a swarm of flies formed into a tall humanoid that stood tall in a stiff formation. A few of them flew around it. Many call it the beast.]

For such an eccentric child like you, we're surprised we haven't heard of you before until now. Your little friend over in the caves is a bit troubled, we reckon.

[It then thought carefully. Usually it can get something, anything out of the children that have crashed on its domain. However, this is a little different. Nothing really comes up. Odd.]

You don't look like the rest.

[It stayed there, curiously. It thinks it'll go smoothly like usual. Maybe it can get information from this one if it probes harshly. It's confident of that.]

Tell us. What are you?

took you long enough.

*[i turn around. i stare. i stand. its a beautiful day outside. birds are singing. flowers are blooming. trees rustle except theres no wind whatsoever. nothing crazy..... yet.]*

never knew you shapeshift old man. funny. last time i see you.. you are pork. pig head on a stick. how come you are now hivemind? you should use that more. you could have made things more entertaining for once. for me of course.

*[ok see brackets? i am real oc blog now!!!! look at me!! im so cool. look! character action in small text! this what writers do right? right??]*

*[i sigh. shrug. kick tiny rock with bare feet. boring. spice up it is]*

you know its so cool— SOOOO cool that you are (supposedly as everyone claims) the beastie. big bad guy. the lord of the flies that everyone piss their pants about. very spooky indeed. you have already tortured bunch of kids in this island. more than william golding could ever do writing me to existence. never fail to amuse how minds like you over there make book better than that old palooka (who for all i care can go eat taffy) could ever do. even if you have stupid name for supposed beast that sound like someone sneezed. but aside from that.. i get why you do this. this is your domain after all. right?

*[and then. i grab his throat. hard. iron grip that should not exist. you think i can not do this but OH I CAN. I ABSOLUTELY CAN.]*

... except.... this isnt your domain.. isnt it [[RICHARD]]?

*[i hold tight on neck— ong look guys cool scary part coming.]*

you want to know difference?? he gave me SENTIENCE. the power to THINK. they dont! now i am TRAPPED. because in all this wonderful, beautiful, miraculous world full of pretentious words of 20 sentence about leaves and– and essays and sparknotes.

i have no REST. no ESCAPE. no FREEDOM. i did not get to see bill and robert grow up with me. never for me to hug my parents— if they even exist. never for ME to be RESCUED. i saw them escape hell multiple times. i TRIED everything. they get to die. they get to go on that STUPID BOAT. AND I CANT. I HATE EVERY SECOND OF IT. GET ME?? HATE. HATE.

ohh but guess what? you are not special. you dont own island. you dont own a domain. i AM the domain.

you knew this. deep down... dont you? i am part of you. i am reason why its no go. why things the way they are. you should know.

and yet youre just symbolism to me.

*[ok send post. great crashout. 10/10.]*

[corviiids]

customary sparknotes for chapter 10

nobody asked this time i just got shit to say. don't read this post unless you've read chapter 10 of my akechi palace au fic "as you like it" because it will make 0 sense forever. here we go

the code for this part took way longer than i want to admit for it being so simple because it just kept breaking in really stupid ways and then it didn't work on mobile. it's fine. it's fine now. tell me if it's broken. don't tell me

i had this dream sequence part drafted back when i posted chapter 9. the thing that took so long was the action sequence, which is ALWAYS the thing that takes so long. i finished my first draft of this chapter about a month ago sitting in a hotel bar, and i got it to where it is now a few days ago sitting in the same hotel bar, so, thanks to that hotel bar and its fantastic jalapeno cocktail and very patient staff for sponsoring this chapter. not sponsoring actually the cocktails are expensive i sponsored myself. anyway

end of dumb preamble? beginning of dumb amble

this first bit takes place in ren's mind as a dream sequence after he gets hit with the sleep effect, basically. parts of it are laid out in a sort of mockup of a stageplay script, although obviously this isn't how you'd write a real script haha. i wanted to play with, like... akechi's palace is a theatre, but he and ren have a lot in common. in his own way, ren is a performer, too.

the scenes with the phantom thieves are all in past tense, which is how the flashbacks in this fic have been written. the recurring motif is how the phantom thieves interact with ren, mostly via his glasses, generally along the theme of how they see him. i didn't really make this explicit, but in all of these scenes, none of the thieves look him directly in the eye.

in the game, ren usually has two or three dialogue options. his narration in this moments are the options he didn't choose. he always chooses the one which is the least direct and the most deflective, because in these moments he is feeling vulnerable and being honest is too overwhelming. by the way, "don't look at me like that" is text that appears in one of p5's menus:

which i just find interesting.

the scenes with akechi, by contrast, are told in present tense. they're also rife with unreality. the setting changes as though it's a dream, which of course it is. it's unclear whether these scenes are an amalgam of things that happened that ren is mixing and remembering oddly, or if he's conjured them.

ok let's look at the script scenes as well. they're basically all retellings of ren's run-in with shido.

the idea is that in tokyo, ren spends a lot of time lying in bed replaying those moments in his head, wondering how else it could have gone. no matter how many times he plays it out, no matter how he thinks about regretting what he did, walking away, making a different call,

he always makes the same choice.

do you ever think about how disproportionate that trumped up assault charge was? ren, frustrated and bitter, has to wonder - if he was just going to get pulled up on assault anyway, what difference would it have made if he'd actually just fucking done it? at least gotten to do the thing he got busted for. for catharsis, or whatever.

unlike the phantom thieves, akechi DOES look ren in the eye

he doesn't let ren get away with dodging his questions, and he repeatedly asks ren what he actually thinks

and with akechi, ren is able to say what he's really thinking.

ok now the rest of the amble

i love writing a fic which has akechi's name plastered all over it and then repeatedly going SURPRISE! this is about ren. it's about ren.

ren's been really struggling with this whole hero thing a lot. i think this battle is where it really comes to a head, because all the shit akechi was giving him in the last chapter about the ethics of stealing a heart is really getting to him. he's wondering whether he's really doing this for akechi or if it's for his own satisfaction, plus the burden of being the leader of the phantom thieves weighs heavier and heavier because if he's not doing this for akechi then that means he's doing it for himself, which means he can't play this as self-sacrificial or selfless, which means his team is putting themselves at risk for him. he's disoriented and he gets put out of commission for his trouble, which just puts his team further at risk while he spirals and tries to do right by everyone. it's a chance for the phantom thieves to step up and save him - as their friend, not their leader. i love the phantom thieves and their dorky power of friendship.

i also really liked coming up with cognitive joker. the idea of the VIP Box being inhabited solely by shido and joker was super fun to me. shido is gone from akechi's cognition, which begs the question of why the box still exists if it was allegedly only there to seat the VIP, the person at the centre of akechi's struggles - obviously it's because the distortion has grown far beyond shido, who is no longer the only person akechi performs for. joker isn't there as a guest. he broke in, and he's unkillable. by the way, his hair is based on the persona super live key art from 2019:

look at his swoopy hair. isn't he cute? i wanna squish his cheeks.

how about that awakening

okay, here's a fun fact about the fucking awakening. here's a FEW fun facts.

1. i came up with the idea of fusing robin hood and loki into a third persona before i had even published chapter 1 (way back in 2019), which means i had that idea long before persona 5 royal was ever announced.

when p5r's marketing started up and was like "we're gonna fuse everyone's first and second personae for a third persona!" i was like (throws a chair at the wall)

2. my first idea for the third persona, back at that point, was for akechi's third persona to be adraestia. she was a greek goddess who later became identified with nemesis/rhamnousia, the goddess of retribution for hubris.

then fire emblem three houses came out, and i realised adraestia was only going to call to mind the black eagles. lol. i was like ok, that's fine, it doesn't really matter, and if it bothers me a lot, i can switch to naming her rhamnousia or something.

then THIS YEAR, i decided to check whether nemesis/rhamnousia existed in smt lore as a shadow already. and as it turns OUT, i had forgotten a VERY KEY FACT ABOUT PERSONA 3.

SHE'S TAKEN. BY A DIFFERENT JUSTICE KID. so i had to change tacks again.

this really left me floundering for a second i gotta say. and then i remembered that last year, i'd written a scene in a fit of pure self-indulgence in which akechi starts telling ren all about the iliad. (this scene appears in chapter 8.) when i wrote that scene, i hadn't really been thinking that hard about how it was going to affect the plot. i just thought achilles and akechi had some interesting similarities, and also, i wanted to talk about the iliad, so i wrote the scene and figured i could cut it if it stuck out too much. anyway, i remembered that scene and was like, holy shit hang on, i have an entire thing already set up for a mythological figure who represents akechi's soul. and it actually works way better than rhamnousia, whose connection with akechi's struggle here is pretty surface-level in comparison. here's a line from my planning doc:

pretty cool how in royal he literally does have twin fates: short and blazing or long and unremarkable

so that's how akhilleus became akechi's third persona. wow! what a happy accident! i mean im a genius and it was all planned from the start obviously. it just goes to show that sometimes you go on a stupid little infodump and it ends up solving a plot problem you didn't foresee an entire year later. fixation works.

akhilleus himself is really cool to me. if i had a persona, achilles would be mine, so i hope akechi fucking appreciates that i've donated him to the goro akechi cause. idk if any artists are keen on doing character designs for personae but of the suite of art i daydream about commissioning for this fic, key art for akhilleus is definitely up there. the woman hovering behind him is his mother, obviously - and akechi's.

this other thing

i also just wanted to mention this

i usually don't outline or plan fics very well, as you can probably fucking tell from the above. im just really short sighted when it comes to outlines and i usually can't see more than a few chapters in advance except for either vague shapes or VERY SPECIFIC SCENES, so doing this kind of intricate planning is a real challenge for me.

the goho-m thing is such a small detail, but im really pleased with it just because it is one of the things i actually did very deliberately plan and set up in advance. it first appears in chapter 6 when ren and makoto go to the zoo - ren gives all his goho-ms to makoto as a show of trust, to demonstrate that he trusts her to get him and their friends home safely after they resolve his fear and resentment for her plan almost getting him killed. i did that to wrap makoto's arc, but it also served a very important plot purpose in chapter 8: ren is stranded in the courtyard with akechi's "shadow" self, and he has no easy way of getting out of the palace because he gave all of his goho-ms to queen. oh no, ren trusted his friends so much it's gonna get him killed. unless?

(this is a plot hole p5 the game just never bothers to fill or else they wouldn't get dramatic anime scenes of the phantom thieves sprinting out of the palaces as they explode and im at peace with that but i still think it's funny and also i wanted to fill the plot hole myself.)

so then it finally gets to come back in chapter 10, when ren finally falls from being their fearless heroic leader and gives his friends a chance to step up and save him for once. makoto still has the goho-ms, and when ren is occupied and out of commission, she steps up and saves them like he trusted her to do. guys! i planned something that spanned five whole chapters. wow! wow i did it.

LONG POST. VERy LONG POST. god. HEY this is it the palace is destroyed. there are still two chapters to go and a lot left to get through, but palace-wise this was the climax, which is why it took so god damn long because it's terrifying to write something so pivotal. but thank you so much for reading the fic! and this if you read it! i wrote this mostly for me again. but if you read it i love you.

[romulusfuckingroy]

no because imagine being roman roy, spending your whole life hearing how useless and fucked up and broken you are from both your dad and your siblings, growing up knowing you’ll never amount to anything.

and then the unthinkable happens. your brother fucks up. loses his claim to the throne. you’re suddenly in pole position to take over… you think, until your sister who’s not even in the fucking company reveals that it’s her.

okay, fine, it’s not like you don’t know your sister is smarter than you are, it’s fine. except… then she loses it, and your dad gives it to some outsider, some random woman from a completely different company. it starts to feel like he’s sort of desperate to give it to anyone but you.

the woman quits after some events that you get the sparknotes of while flying home from being held fucking hostage. someone has to go to prison, and it’s your brother for some fucking reason. you’re alone again. so maybe…?

but no, your dad’s just calling you to tell you to go find your sister. he asks you if she’s solid, he trusts you to make that determination, and you say yes because you love her. so it’s suddenly her again.

and then the unthinkable happens again. your siblings decide to rebel. this is your one fucking shot. but suddenly they’re goading you into joining them, and you… agree, because you fucking love them, fuck, you really do. no matter how many times it fucks you over, you love them like a dog loves the child that keeps pulling its tail.

(when you get to your dad’s hideout he tells you that the heir will be you if you abandon them right now. you have no evidence for or against this. you’re starting to feel like he’s just dangling it in front of you to get you to do what he wants. (you’re right, but you’re not quite aware enough to fully realize it.))

so… it’s none of you, and that’s… fine. the world doesn’t end. time goes on. you decide that teaming up is kind of… nice. you have plans, real fucking solid plans. except… your siblings swerve sideways and start specifically trying to fuck over your dad instead of just… working together to build something.

they goad you into it, obviously. they’ve always had the ability to make you do things you don’t want to do. except for one factor that’s out of their control…

dad says he needs you. you. roman.

so you’re back on team dad. he was right the whole time anyway. and he respects your opinions (you believe), like with mencken. you’re ideologically allied (he’s indoctrinated you).

he dies when you send him one fucking lousy voicemail about how shitty it felt firing your… your… gerri.

your dad is dead. your dad is dead and the last thing he ever told you to do was fire gerri. which… which you did, so at least you can rest easy knowing it was you, you were the best child after all, he finally saw you deserved the company.

except kendall’s name has a line through/under it, and you’re not fucking mentioned. fucking greg is mentioned, but not you.

you tell yourself shiv’s right. it’s crossed out. you tell yourself that for a different reason than she does. you were so sure it was gonna be you. after everything he fucking put you through. it had to be you, right?

deep down you’re sure it’s an underline. and you’ve never felt more useless. more like a manmade mistake.

you can fucking be like dad, though. you fucking fire two senior women- one of them gerri, again. you let kendall do whatever the fuck his manic ass is up to- dad seemingly trusted him, so fuck it. you try to tank the deal with matsson, because you can do this. you can run waystar. you always fucking could. fuck anyone who says different.

you put your reputation and waystar’s prestige on the line for a fascist presidential candidate, because that’s something you and dad agreed on. that’s when you felt like he was actually fucking proud of you. shiv throws a hissy fit, but fuck her, okay, she’ll never fucking understand the bond you had with dad. no one can.

you… make a bad call. well- you don’t make a bad call, everyone thinks you made a bad call. mencken deserves to win! why is it such a big fucking deal?! you’re on top of the world, about to deliver a banging eulogy and swoop in and take the company from matsson’s grubby little hands.

and then your uncle speaks. and then you get up to speak. and then you cry. and fucking kendall logan roy gets up there and delivers a better speech than you ever could. and then so does siobhan.

you find out mencken betrayed you. your brother tells you you fucked everything up, and he’s not joking around like usual. you think about that fucking piece of paper, that fucking line. well, fuck this. you get beat up a bit for old times sake and then fuck off to barbados.

but they find you there. they beg and plead for you to come back, to vote with them, they need you. you’re with your mom in barbados, finally having time to just… breathe and think, and your siblings come back and try to goad you into coming back, into putting everything you are on the line once again, for fucking kendall’s benefit alone, pretty much.

…

you go with them. they’ve always had the ability to make you do things you don’t want to do. especially when you try to back out- come on, gerri’s there for god’s sake- and your brother pulls you close like a boa constrictor and hurts you the way you like it until you yield.

you get why his name was (you believe) underlined. it was never you. never.

because you’re roman roy, and there’s something really fucking wrong with you, and there always will be.

[the-alice-of-hearts]

Day 2 Stars/Space

Jason knew he was down bad for the idiot third Robin. He knew that things were bad before, but this was going to be a problem quickly if he couldn’t get his head on straight. Gotham had been put under a bubble of magic and it was causing people who were in love to have stars in their eyes when looking at the object of their affection. This was apparently fine for the rest of the clan, but Jason was not looking forward to going to this evening’s debrief. Damian had already claimed some sickness and was refusing to come out of his room until the magic was taken down, Dick was holding up remarkably well for the fact that everyone was having to watch his eyes light up around Bruce, Steph and Cass were comparing their stars to one another, and Duke was legitimately hiding out from the migraine that the lights all over were causing him. But Jason needed to be at the debrief and he’d heard Bruce order Tim to show up before retiring for the night. 

Jason had taken off his helmet and was contemplating if he could get away with wearing his mask through the debrief when Tim rolled into the cave. Jason tensed every part of his body to keep from looking up when he heard Dick gasp. “Oh, Tim.” 

Jason couldn’t help but look up at that, worried about the way that Dick said Tim’s name. He locked eyes with Tim and saw not just stars, but the depths of space in his eyes. They weren’t just singular, they were constellations that were burning with such an intensity that Jason could understand every novel that talked about getting lost in someone’s eyes. 

He took a step toward Tim and then hesitated before reaching up and taking off his mask. If Tim wasn’t afraid to wear his affection like a flag then Jason couldn’t be either. 

“I didn’t expect,” Jason started softly but then Tim was jumping into his arms forcing Jason to catch him. 

“I see you,” Tim said, staring into Jason’s eyes just as intently as Jason was looking at him. 

Tim’s eyes were a nebula where stars were born and died in the seconds that Jason watched. The fire and intensity of the space where Tim’s eyes should be left Jason feeling warm in a way that he would never be able to explain. 

“I love you,” Jason responded breathlessly. 

“I can see that.” Tim smiled. “You’re a galaxy that’s ever expanding, I can see the stardust in your eyes.” 

Jason leaned in and carefully kissed Tim’s lips. 

Tim smiled into the kiss and then pulled back. “I love you too,” he said before kissing Jason passionately. 

When Jason opened his eyes again he say that Tim’s eyes were still swirling galaxies, but they had flecks of golden stardust in them now. 

Bruce came over to talk to them but Jason only had eyes for Tim and started walking back to the cars. 

“Jason!” Dick called out.

Jason waved him off and kissed Tim again. “My place or yours?” 

Tim wiggled in his arms and then was climbing down him. “Yours, but we do need to listen to B’s explanation about all of this.” 

“He can send the sparknotes.” Jason disagreed and grabbed hold of Tim’s hand. “We have more important things to be doing.” 

Tim looked up at him and then smirked. “Okay, fine.”

[ahgasegotarmy116]

The Art of Etiquette Part 3 | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: Mr. Jeon gets your number and offers to drive you to the Modiste but don't really give you an option to say no Paring: f!reader x Etiquette instructor Jungkook Word Count: 3.5k~ Warnings: Like one cuss word but thats about it lol a/n: This took longer than I had expected to post but I hope you guys like it! p.s. roughly edited because I wanted to get it out asap lol

"So start from the beginning again. What exactly did he do?" I hear as Jesse's voice comes through the speaker. "He's just trying to intimidate me" I groan, not wanting to relive it again.

"He thinks that that kind of tactic is going to work well enough to make me into a 'lady'. I really don't understand how some of these upper class people think. They're acting like it's the 18th century or something" I complain, walking around my room and putting away the new clothes I bought for this whole charade. 

"I mean they more or less are if they're still concerned about stuff like having a girl go through this whole song and dance just so the rich boys know that they're up for grabs now. It just doesn't make sense" he sympathizes.

"I'm glad you agree" I say, relieved that I don't have to explain myself to him. "Well why don't you just talk to him about it?" he suggests. 

"James? I would but I don't want to make it seem like I'm trying to back out or complain about it. Plus my mother would never let me hear the end of it and she really might convince him to make me get a job instead. 

"No I meant Jungkook, or Mr. Jeon or whatever the hell you call him. He could probably answer your questions if you ask nicely" he taunts at the end. 

"Talk to him? He doesn't bother to initiate any sort of conversation with me, other than when he tells me to do something. Even when he asks questions he expects me to answer with a 'yes' or 'no' and stops me from asking him anything even if I try" I groan, disgusted at the thought of trying to speak to him like I would any other person.

"He would just reprimand me for not doing the homework he gave me since it probably has all the answers I'm looking for" I huff. "Have you done the homework?" Jesse asks, clearly knowing the answer.

"I read the SparkNotes okay" I admit rolling my eyes "So I know gist of it. I showed you how thick those books were right? There was no way I'm going to be able to finish all of them by Monday" I groan, tossing myself onto the bed. 

"Well it's either read or talk and if I were you I would talk to him and get on his good side. It would benefit you more in the long run" he say, stating the obvious that honestly I had not thought of, considering how much he infuriates me.

"At the end of the day though it's up to you babes" he finishes.

We talk for a bit more before he has to go and he doesn't forget to remind me to read some more before I go to bed. Leaving me brushing it off, wrapping up the call to prevent any further nagging.

But before I'm even able to lock my phone after ending the call I get a text from a random number...

Unknown: 'You have a fitting tomorrow so we'll be meeting there instead'.

I frown for a second as I stare at the screen, contemplating if I should answer or not.

Me: 'Mr. Jeon?' I question making certain that my suspicions are correct.

Unknown: 'I see that no one has told you yet. Yes it's Mr. Jeon, I acquired your number from Matthew so as to ease our means of communication'. He finishes matter o' factly.

I stare at the screen again and contemplate how to respond but before I'm able to he sends another message. 

Unknown: 'I hope this hasn't made you uncomfortable. If you would like I can continue to send messages through Matthew instead'. he offers after noticing my hesitation to respond 

Me: 'No this is fine, it would make things more convenient for the both of us'. I answer, feeling almost as if a barrier between us has been broken down with this nonabrasive conversation we're having at the moment.

Unknown: 'Agreed. I just checked and noticed that I pass your college on the way to the modiste so I will pick you up instead'. he sends, telling me more than offering. 

Me: 'You don't have to do that, I'm perfectly capable of getting myself there on my own'. I reply, not appreciating the way he's gone about this.

Unknown: 'The location is quite far, farther than my house so it would be more cost effective for you if you were to simply accept my offer. Although I've already told your father and he said he would send someone over to pick up your car from the University. So unless you would like to walk there I suggest you come with me'. 

There's the Mr. Jeon we all know and hate...we meaning me.

Me: 'Yes Mr. Jeon'. I reply, knowing that I've lost the battle before it has even begun.

Unknown: 'I shall meet you outside the main building at 4:15. Sweet dreams'. he finishes leaving me confused. 

"Sweet dreams? Sweet dreams?" I repeat to myself. That's the first remotely nice thing he's ever said to me. Why would he say that? He could've just ended it at 4:15.

Why Sweet dreams? I shake my head hoping that would in some way get rid of whatever overthinking my brain starts to do but it's no use, especially since I still have it right in front of me. 

I change his name to 'Jungkook' because at least that way I can feel like I'm disrespecting him on a daily basis without his knowledge, assuming he will be sending me unnecessary reminders of stupid things he thinks I'll forget.

Knowing me though I probably would've forgotten it anyways since I kind of black out during our lessons at times. He talks so much that after my already mind numbing classes I can hardly focus on what he's supposed to be teaching me. 

~~~~~~~~

I walk down the front steps and see an all black car waiting right in front, leaving me to assume it's Mr. Jeon. "Get in or we'll be late" he says after rolling down the window. I roll my eyes and open the door, plopping myself down in the back seat.

"What are you doing?" he questions, looking at me through the rear view mirror. "Putting my seatbelt on?" I answer just as confused as he is. He takes a deep breath in and out and starts up the car, driving away before saying anything else. 

"Oh did you expect me to sit up front with you?" I ask now amused at his behavior. "Seeing as I am not your personal driver yes, I did expect you to sit up front" he says tonguing his cheek.

Huh, so he does that when he's irritated. Noted.

"Yet you gave me no choice but to drive me there" I argue back. "I did this as a favor so we would both show up on time. I guess I won't offer next time" he says and I can see how much he's trying to restrain himself. 

"Mr. Jeon did something happen?" I ask, genuinely curious as to why he's acting like this. He's usually upfront and intimidating, but never angry with me. Maybe a little irritated but the feeling is mutual.

"No, now will you please stop being a brat for five seconds? We have a long journey and I would rather we spend it in silence than listening to your insolence" he says raising his voice. 

I decide that it's in both of our best interests if I remain quiet but it takes everything in me to do just that.

'Who does he think he is? Calling me a brat?' I scoff quietly to myself and put in my headphones, not missing the glare he sends me through the rear view again.

I press play and rest my head against the window, deciding to get some rest instead of dealing with whatever attitude that's got him all messed up.

~~~~~~

"Wake up" Jungkook says once we get there.

He looks back and finds me fast asleep with my headphones in, leaving him rolling his eyes and getting out of the car, making sure to slam his door on the way out.

He goes around and opens the door I was lying up against and let's me fall a bit but catches me half way before I actually topple out of the car. 

"Hey!" I whine, now unfortunately being forcefully woken up.

"We're here. Get out and wipe that drool off your face" he says and pushes me back in so I'm sitting upright and makes his way over to the building, not bothering to wait for me.

"What's his issue today?" I groan and reach up to wipe the drool off my face he had spoken about but I find none leaving me even more irritated with the fact that he's not only grumpy but he still has the audacity to try and tease me.

When I finally make my way into the building I'm met with so many different kinds of dresses and fabrics and ribbon and everything that you could possibly imagine that would be in a dress maker's shop. 

"This must be y/n!" an older woman, most likely in her sixties says as she comes up and gives me a little smile.

"Hello" I say shyly, remembering the scolding that Jungkook had given me earlier until I glance over at him and see that he is giving me an even bigger scowl than he had before. 

"I mean it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance" I say giving her a nod. "She's still got a lot to learn" Mr. Jeon says and walk with the dressmaker and talks her through everything that we've planned to do today but I can tell she is already well versed but continues to let him explain all the same.

"Y/n" I hear him call out my name, leaving me bringing my attention back over to him after I had just started to look through the different bolts of fabric that are sitting on the various shelves. 

"Yes?" I say remembering to give him a verbal response.

"Please go ahead and stand up on that stool over there and wait for her to come up and measure you".

I look over at the area he's motioned to to make sure I know exactly where to go so I won't get scolded for not doing as I was told. "Yes Mr. Jeon" I say and make my way over and wait for her.

"Oh you're going to look beautiful in the gowns we're making for you!" the woman says as she happily continues to take my measurements. She notices my reaction and looks around for Jungkook and sees that he's on a phone call in the other room.

"It's okay I won't make them girly and pink". "How did you kno-"

"A woman always knows, especially when I've been in this business for so long. Also don't feel a need to be formal with me love. I don't subscribe to that stuffy nonsense" she says with a chuckle. 

"But you make dresses for them" I say confused with her stance on things. "It's good money dearie, plus I enjoy making them. I started sewing at the age of four believe it or not!" she says looking up at me over the edge of her glasses as she checks to see how long she'll need to make the dresses. 

"Are you clumsy at all?" she asks rather randomly if you ask me. "No not really, why?" I ask tilting my head slightly. "I just wanted to see if I should make the hem a bit shorter so you wouldn't step on it but I think you'll be just fine" she finishes and takes a final look at me and at the measurements she's written down. 

"Perfect! Go ahead and sit down over there and rest your legs a bit while I bring out some dresses that you'll be trying on" she says and turns to make her way over towards the backroom.

"Dresses? There's more than one?" I question and she unfortunately doesn't hear me since she's already out of earshot. 

"You'll be trying on at least five dresses today. Just so we can make sure we choose the right one" Jungkook says right behind me, scaring the shit out of me.

"Sh- I mean, you startled me" I say placing a hand over my chest. "You'll live" he says simply and goes to sit on one of the chairs facing the stool I had been standing on.

"Are you going to just sit there and watch?" I question, seeing as he hasn't made moves to do much else.

"It's one of my tasks of being your tutor" he says and fishes out his phone to respond to what I assume is another message. 

"Your job is to watch me try on pretty dresses?" I question, amused by the situation.

"Yes y/n, it is my duty to make sure that the dresses we choose match the themes of whatever events we are going to. As well as being appropriate to the trends nowadays" he finishes and lowers his voice when he sees the seamstress come back. 

"I heard that" she says while rolling a rack of dresses into the room.

"Do you see one you like?" she asks and motions for me to come closer. I look at the rack and see there are so many dresses of different colors and patterns and styles. I just don't know what to pick.

"Which one do you think I should try on?" I ask turning towards her. "Well why don't we let Mr. Jeon choose, since he so kindly reminded me that my taste is out of date" she says and winks at me, showing me she's teasing while simultaneously giving Jungkook the cold shoulder. 

"I did not mean it as any disrespect. What I was trying to say wa-"

"Oh hush child, just come over here and choose a dress before I really start to get upset with you" she teases and he walks closer to the rack looking through the dresses while he sends a glance my way most likely debating on which one might suit me best.

He takes a second to think after looking through all of them but doesn't seem to find one he's satisfied with. Looking around the room for a second he finds another dress on display and walks over to it to take a closer look. 

"This one" he says almost bored and walks back over to sit in the chair he had been occupying moments ago.

"He's cranky today isn't he?" she whispers to me and I nod my head quickly agreeing. "I'm glad you noticed too" I say and she walks to the back and grabs that exact dress in my size.

"Go ahead and change over there and I'll grab some pins incase we need to alter it" she says and I do as I'm told. 

Coming out of the little dressing room she has I smooth the dress out and watch as her eyes light up.

"This looks incredible on you! I don't even think I'll need to alter it at all!" she says excitedly. I smile at her and thank her silently and see Jungkook walking over to take a closer look. 

He takes in my figure from top to bottom and has me do a slight twirl to see it from all angles. "We'll take this one" he says and starts to walk over to the counter to settle the bill.

"That's it?" I question her, confused as to how we actually managed to finish this all without me having to try on a bunch more.

"I mean he did pick the perfect dress for you" she says walking me up to the full length mirror and I'm shocked at how much I love it as well. 

I twist and turn around a bit more to see the movement of the dress and the more I watch the more I fall in love with it.

"You're right, this one's perfect!" I say and turn my vision towards where Jungkook had gone to and I notice that he's most likely been watching me this entire time.

He clears his throat and fixes his posture to try to cover up for himself but I can see how almost bashful he looks from being caught in the act. 

"Why don't you go change and then we'll have this all settled by the time you're done" she says and ushers me back in the room again.

"By the way, is there something going on between you two?" she questions, catching me off guard. "What do you mean?" I ask turning around to face her.

"I mean I've never seen him look at someone like he just was a few moments ago" she points out, confirming my suspicions. 

"Plus, in all my years of him bringing his students here he has never once put in any effort to pick out a dress, and half the time the student ends up loving the dress while both Jungkook and I disagree but he lets them choose it nonetheless" she says and I take a look at myself in the mirror again, trying to asses if this is the one that I really truly want.

"It just seemed like he knew you and he knew exactly what would look good on you without even having to try" she says giving me a smug smirk. "No ma'am please it's nothing like tha-"

"I'm just kidding child don't worry. I swear no one in your generation can take a joke anymore" she says and walks out of the room laughing at the slight panic I had started to go through.

~~~~

"Thanks for the ride" I say when we pull up to my house, this time having sat in the front seat.

"No problem" he says and looks over at me, this being the first time he truly had this entire trip, or at least the first time I noticed.

"Hey can I ask you a question?" I say, stopping before I reach for the handle to get out. "You just did" he says, this being one of the first times he's tried to make some sort of joke. 

I roll my eyes at him and I see a flash of an almost smile but it's gone as soon as it came, being replaced with his usual stoic expression.

"How did you know what dress to choose for me?" I ask and watch as he gets awkward again just like he had done when we were back at the modiste.

He turns to look out the wind shield, this time giving me a full view of how the tips of his ears have gone a bit red from the question.

"I'm not sure. I think having to go through that process so many times it just seemed like that one was the obvious pick" he says and gets out of the car.

"What are you doing?" I ask following suit and watch as he pulls the garment bag out and starts walking up the steps to the front door.

"I'm making sure the dress stays well taken care of. I'll hand it to one of the staff when they open the door" he says and waits for me at the top of the stairs.

Before I'm even able to reach for my keys I hear the door being unlocked and the face of my mother comes into view. 

"Oh hello, you must be Mr. Jeon" she says sending him a bright smile to which he reciprocates and bows a bit as a sign of respect.

"Hello, I just wanted to make sure that y/n and her dress got back safely" he says and she waves one of the housekeepers over to carry it up to my room for us.It would've been fine by me if I could've just done all of this by myself.

"Well that was very sweet of you. Would you like to stay for dinner? It should be ready soon, plus we would like to show our gratitude to you for making such a long journey there and back for her" she offers. 

"Perhaps another time. I have a business meeting across town tonight but thank you so much for your generosity" he says, politely declining.

"Well thank you again for bringing her home" she reiterates and I start to not so subtly try to usher her back inside.

"Come on mom he said he has to go" I say to her under my breath.

"Well it was so nice to meet you Mr. Jeon. I hope we'll see each other again soon" she says, leaving me having to almost push her inside. 

"Thank you Mr. Jeon have a good night" I say and as I turn to close the door he says the same thing that had me over thinking just last night.

"Good night y/n, sweet dreams" he says with a soft smile and heads to his car, driving off and leaving me with a confused mix of emotions yet again. 

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[transthadymacdermot]

perhaps you might tell us something about 'nitre'? intriguing...

Nitre is a document with a variety of random stuff, scenes I can't fit in anywhere else, and one offs I wrote to feel out the characters of some of the less important ribbonman guys. it's named after the first one (or the second? can't remember lol) which is about crilly inspecting an improvised nitre works. going to go off about research stuff under the cut because I've been given an opportunity ^-^

Basically, the scene centres on a series of tubs one of the guys (his name is rafferty but he's called stuff like nicholas flamel or hermes trismegistus because some of the other characters think he's a wizard for all that. etc) has set up in a cattle shed, which his little crew combines with sulphur etc to make powder. while it may sound a little anachronistic for the characters to be, uh, basically mixing explosives, this is actually based on reports of the united irishmen doing the same thing just before this story would be set. the book the belfast jacobin by kenneth dawson talks a little about this, the sparknotes being that saltpetre was tightly controlled at the time because everyone knew you could make powder out of it; primarily the worry was that the Barb'rous Fench or the spanish (both of whom england had a thousand year psychosexual death rivalry with, as we know) would manage to steal a ship bringing the stuff to britain from its colonies, but authorities in ireland were conscious of the fact that insurgents there wanted it, too. it was also particularly important to keep track of saltpetre in ireland because there was actually a really really easy way for enemies of the crown to get ahold of saltpetre in the north of ireland specifically -- it's used in the linen bleaching process, and many united irish leaders had businesses doing just that, so it wasn't too difficult for them to say heyyyy customs man I actually need to buy 50000000 kilos gunpowder ingredients for. my fabric #myfabric and then just abscond with it.

All this to say, by the mid 1790s the united irishmen were so desperate for powder that reports reached general lake from some of his underlings of the UI opening improvised nitre works where saltpetre could be leached from animal carcasses in the mountains surrounding belfast. allegedly, belfast's most fashionable women's clothing maker, joseph cuthbert, was in charge of both this and what has been described as the "assassination committee" (yes that was its name. like the rebellion papers say they called it that), but I'm not sure how true that is lol. there's also the question of where they got the sulphur... but anyway those familiar with the north of ireland might have something to say about how crossmaglen is not the same place as belfast, which is true, and I've found frustratingly little documentation of how more agrarian groups like the one my story is about got powder irl, but there are enough adjacent stories about rural mid-ulster that do exist that for now I feel p comfortable inserting this even though I've no positive evidence of it (tangent of a tangent, but my personal favourite such anecdote comes from when then-teenager william blacker, who went on to be the first grand master of the orange order, melted down pieces of his father's lead roof to make bullets for the battle of the diamond). ANYWAY after all that basically the only part of the document I'm willing to post is my semi subtle joke about nelson because it's terminally unedited

Sources: the belfast jacobin by kenneth dawson, belfast in the french revolution by brendan clifford, orangeism in ireland and britain 1795-1836 by hereward senior, the chosen fews by darach macdonald

[demontobee]

Parallels between Lord Jim and Good Omens (2)

I have rewatched GO2 at least 10 times now (still counting, obvsly), and every time I notice new easter eggs that emerge from the massive web of intertextuality that Neil Gaiman created for us here.

So today, I wanted to focus on the way Aziraphale came up with the “undercover” name “Jim” for Gabriel. He read it on the spine of a book: Lord Jim.

That book was written by Joseph Conrad (a Polish-British writer with dubious ideas about colonialism) and published in 1900. The plot basically follows the life of a young idealistic seaman called Jim who has to defend himself in a trial that concerns a sinking ship which he and other members of the crew abandoned in a storm, leaving it and the helpless passengers to their fate. The ship did not sink in the end, and he was the only member of the crew who was held accountable for his deeds by stripping him off his naval certificate. The trial is where he meets the narrator of the story, Marlow, who is strangely intrigued by the young man, who seems to be engulfed by guilt and shame over his morally wrong decision to leave the boat. The narrator tries to help Jim to his feet and lands him a job as a post manager at some remote colonial outpost. There he becomes a hero by capturing a local bandit. Later he falls victim to a scheme against him, and a pirate raids a neighbouring community and kills the son of their chief, Jim’s close friend. Jim then goes there, and the chief shoots him as a revenge for his son.

I mean, the most obvious parallel is that Gabriel gets named after Jim. He, too, abandoned his ship (Heaven; and the question here is, did he know it might be a sinking ship as well?) and was put on trial and lost his position as archangel before he came to Aziraphale for help. But that’s not all there is to it.

Let us start with the formal (concerning style and structure) aspects:

narrative structure:

“Marlow has complete control over the story … and he exercises his power in increasingly complicated ways. Time is broken up: in a single paragraph of narration, Marlow will reference the past, the present, and the future. By manipulating the flow of the narrative, Marlow is able to create juxtapositions and contrasts that highlight particular aspects of the story. He is a master at withholding information …” (Source: Sparknotes)

As I have already discussed in another post, this is more or less how narrative structure works in GO, too (S2 maybe more than S1, but this still applies to both). We get minisodes from the past that directly reference and juxtapose situations in the story that takes place in the present. Take, for example, the Job minisode, which gives us information about the development of Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship, but we also see how devastating and hard it was for Aziraphale to realise that sometimes he had to lie (or do something considered wrong in heaven) to do the morally right thing. This sequence is juxtaposed with the relative ease he exhibits in the present day when he has to lie to heaven on a regular basis (in this case, about the miracle and hiding Gabriel, which is kind of a big lie, too). The show also plays with our understanding and expectations of how time works, as S2 starts with a scene that takes place “before the beginning,” which undermines dramatic structure as it has been known and accepted since Aristotle. It is also interesting to note that in S1, we have a strong sense of an almighty narrator, since god herself is narrating the whole time and she sure lets us know that she is playing her own ineffable game here. In S2, however, we don’t have a clear narrative voice. This might make it seem like the narration is more neutral or less meddled with, but in reality, it just makes things even less reliable and situations more ambiguous, as we have no single voice to interpret them for us. Someone is definitely “withholding information” here, and I guess we’ll have to wait for S3 to get the full picture.

language/style:

“Marlow constantly ponders the "message"--the meaning of Jim's story. His language is dense with terms like "inscrutable" and "inexplicable," words that denote imprecision and indecipherability, but which also possess a certain quality of uncertainty in themselves, as words. He struggles to name things, and is often reduced to wondering if there even is a meaning to Jim's story and his fascination with it. Sometimes he concludes that the meaning is an "enigma"; sometimes he decides there is no meaning to be found at all. Words are constantly being contested in this novel; at least three major episodes center around the misinterpretation of a single spoken word.” (Source: Sparknotes)

I mean, “inscrutable” and “inexplicable”? Why not just call it “ineffable”? I also love how Crowley seems to wonder about the meaning of things (especially the distinction between “good” and “bad”), as one of the first things we here him say in S2 is something like: “Do you ever ask yourself what’s the point. I mean angels, demons, heaven, hell … it all seems a bit … point … less.” And obviously, the whole show is full of misinterpretations of words (e.g., “what does your exactly mean, exactly? I feel like my exactly and your exactly are different exactlies”), or, as we are all painfully aware, a whole way of communicating with one another (“aim for my mouth, but shoot past my ear”).

Now for some similarities concerning informal (aka content) aspects:

moral balance and “naïve heroism”:

“Even more tortured is the analysis of idealism and heroism that lies at the center of Lord Jim. Jim is a young man who enters the world motivated primarily by fantasies of daring and noble deeds lifted from cheap novels. His ideals break down, however, in the face of real danger; they are, in fact, untenable when applied to any form of reality.” (Source: Sparnotes)

That sounds like both Crowley and Aziraphale in a way. They both set out as naïve idealists, and both of them learn (Crowley earlier and faster that Aziraphale) that their (heavenly) ideals do not hold in the complex reality of life. A lot of what we see in S2 is Aziraphale coming to terms with accepting that doing the “right thing” on earth often involves breaking his heavenly rules and allowing for “shades of grey.”

struggling to comprehend own identity and moral consequences of own actions:

Both the narrator, Marlow, and the protagonist of his tale, Jim, are trying to figure out their identity. Marlow seems to tell the story mainly to kind of make sense of identity itself but also of him personally, while Jim tries to make amends for his morally wrong behaviour and tries to manifest his identity (as a hero) through action.

In GO2, we have a lot of identity struggles and questions of “who am I?”: Jim the amnesiac angel is the most blatantly obvious case, but we also have Aziraphale negotiating his identity constantly, e.g., in the Job episode when he asks “Then what am I?” after having lied to heaven for the first time . And I mean Crowley is just on another level of liminal identity entirely, isn’t he?

As a bonus (and I am probably going overboard here, but well), this is the description of Jim’s death:

“Then with his hand over his lips he fell forward, dead.”

  The imagery reminds me of something…ahhh yes:

Feel free to add your thoughts in the tags or comments!

[cappuccino-bear]

Warrior Cats moment

I decided that screw it I am posting Warriors on main now and the other blog is just the archive for it.

I am gonna try to make it a whole rewrite au thing buuut we'll see how it goes! Currently calling it the CappuccinoRewrite but we'll see.

Design notes:

-Going with my own naming system which changes a few things, sparknotes is that apprentices get any suffix related to body parts or patterns (-fur, -tail, -throat, -dapple for example), so warriors cannot get them; no cats named after colors because colors and feelings/personalities are basically the same words in their language; honorifics are adverbs or adjectives like Running or Bright added at the start of a name, therefore those cannot be names; leaders get a new name upon receiving their nine lives, those names can break most of these rules because leaders are legendary.

-Fireheart my boy, I used to draw him with a full head of curls but the design felt too complex on the face so now it's just a couple tufts on the top. His cheek fluff, fluffy nose and floppy ears are going to be Firekin deadringers, everyone gets at least one. Other than that I like to make him striped and with a lighter belly to truly sell the fire look.

-Cricketpurr (Graystripe), who I love giving a stupid mustache to and then offloading it to all his children too. His nose is red because the figurine makes it red, and I like giving him a couple more stripes.

-Ravenscruff (Ravenpaw) who does not get an adult name because he dipped before that, and Dusthill (Dustpelt) (still thinking of changing it to something else... Dustmound maybe?) look alike because they're brothers. The white patches are the same, they also got a white tail tip, and the two pointed "mask" on Ravenscruff has the same shape as Dusthill's sickass eyebrows.

-Sandstorm my girlie, first time trying to give her the eyemask marking since designing her dad Stoatrun (Runningwind) and I think she looks nice, even if I might tweak the colors later.

-Bluestar! Her old name was Hailmoon. I like how the mane makes her look a bit like a wolf. Other than that I think her eyes look pretty.

-Blighted Aspenleaf (Spottedleaf) gave me trouble from start to finish BUT I think she looks pretty nice, her silly hair especially. I also love the little heart marking on her ear.

-Tigerslash (Tigerclaw) has braided stripes, which are like if leopard spots became stripes, with the center of a different color. Other than that though I might change their shape, especially the one on top of his head.

-Bogsnarl (Yellowfang) is extra fluffy and extra scruffy. Her pupils have a redder contour which I also wanna give to her son. Other than that it's a pretty standard design lol.

Hope yall like them and sorry for the hard pivot from one blog to another.

[chaifootsteps]

Okay SO. Though I call it my Lackadaisy NextGen AU as I have no name for it as of yet, it's really a NextGen AU x a "film noir" murder mystery. As I feel like the 10k words of notes I've written down might be a bit too long for your askbox, I'll just give you the Sparknotes version.

Talia (tortoiseshell), eldest daughter of Calvin and Ivy and our main character, is an 18-yo freshman who started off her first year of college bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. No doubt in part because this meant that she would no longer have to babysit her four younger siblings. This very quickly changes when her best friend, a girl working as a prostitute to pay for her classes, is murdered. As the police are predictably no help, a heartbroken and despondent Talia seeks help from the local private eye. The private eye, Quicksilver (pure gray cat), is based off of an old Warrior Cats sona of mine, and since he already has some lead rolling around in his skull (he's more or less okay with it), he doesn't mind getting into dangerous work as well as he gets paid for it. (He also was an old apprentice of Elsa. Still maintains feelings for her that are an odd mix of "looks up to like a mother figure" and "she was a vicious crush of his when he was 19".)

Things don't go so well when the killer catches on that Talia has gone to Quicksilver, and swiftly tries to kill them, nearly shooting the head off of a very unfortunate paperboy instead. Lawrence (what some might call a "cow cat"), also 18 and middle child of Lacy and Horatio, becomes the unfortunate star witness in the killer's latest murder attempt and now has a target on his back as well. With all three of them needing to get to the bottom of the case before one of them loses a life, they're forced to team up and become a motley crew of investigators navigating the seedy underbelly of Missouri, and all of the lies, corruption, and depravity which lay waiting within it.

There are also a few other characters-- Xavier Savoy, street-smart orphan (dad dead to WWII, mother to the flu) who was taken in by Serafine and the Congregation ("Serafine's harem", as he later started calling it) who's always willing to help for a price, and the gossipy diner waitress Lynn who may or may not be related to a certain Drago, but they're not really as into the whole "catch the killer" as the aforementioned three are. Overall, the AU functions as some sort of new-generation sequel; the other characters are mentioned and acknowledged, but the story mainly focuses on the new characters.

One very important plot-point, however-- Talia doesn't know about Lackadaisy. Neither does Quicksilver. Lawrence knows vaguely about Lackadaisy and Freckle/Ivy's involvement, but not the fact that Talia is their kid. So there's always this backdrop of "something happened in my family's past, but I'm not sure what". Talia is a perfect combination of her father's anger and her mother's wit, and though she doesn't know it (and Freckle hates to know it), she has more of her father in her than any of her siblings. When push comes to shove, well, Talia has a very bloody family legacy, and like it or not, violence runs in her veins.

One last thing-- though certain characters are at least mentioned or known to be alive (Lacey still works under Wick, Wick/Mitzi/Zib are a thing though their current professions are unknown, Quicksilver visits Elsa semi-regularly), others are not. Namely, Rocky, Viktor, Mordecai, Asa, and Dominic. It's not necessarily confirmed whether or not these characters are still kicking, but well... sometimes Freckle will watch his kids do something stupid and get this wistful look in his eye, and Ivy will just cling to his arm and say nothing.

Ack, this got long-- sorry for all the wordy-words, thanks for lending me an ear!

Ahhh, this is fantastic! It combines two of the best things, NextGen AUs done really well and Warrior Cat OCs that have been repurposed into Lackadaisy ones. I would kill or die for these kids and any more details of this story you feel inclined to throw my way, I'll happily lap up.

Also, that bit about Freckle watching his kids put a dagger in my heart, mostly because I can't shake the feeling that it's going to someday be canon.