#A ONESHOT IM BASING THIS ON A ONESHOT

[brute1234]

we doing our final art project on a one-shot about a fucking snail mail delivery service what have I become

[palecryptid]

“well, well, well.” 😬

[xxcherrycherixx]

picnic date o((>ω< ))o

[junosmindpalace]

may i request a gojo x reader one shot where y/n is gojo's former student, after she graduated she went out of the country then after 5 yrs she comes back to work at tokyo jujutsu high as a teacher like gojo. y/n used to have a crush on gojo back then (maybe she still does 😋) and now that y/n's back after a long time gojo kinda missed her so they often spend time together. y/n keeps convincing herself it's just some kind of friendly reunion, nothing more but one day during the sister school goodwill event she gets jealous when she sees gojo teasing utahime and interacting with her. gojo wonders what got y/n into a pissy mood and y/n is like "why do you even care? just go back to your flirting session" then that's where gojo finds out she's just jealous. he'll tease her and idk maybe a confession between them will follow? i'm rlly sorry i suck at explaining things but i hope you get most of it and this gets accepted 😭 thanks! 💓

UNKNOWN / NTH

hi anon! thank you for your request and patience! i changed a couple of details in this request and it turned out soo weirdly angst but the main idea is still there! i hope that’s alright!

3.2k words. a little all over the place.

“call me every single day, you hear me? you can’t leave me all alone with this guy.” 

shoko doesn’t even look over her shoulder as she jabs her thumb toward the white haired teen standing behind her shoulder, who drops his mouth open in disbelief at her insulting tone. the tension in your chest eased up as you laughed.

“of course.” 

leaving your friends so soon after graduating was hard to wrap your head around, even with a car waiting to take you to the airport outside the gates of the jujutsu tech building and the occasion bump into your suitcase as you shifted your weight between your legs. 

with the assassination of the star plasma vessel and the suguru incident that made your worlds turn upside down, it seemed reasonable that you’d want to stay; immerse yourself in something familiar. but staying at jujutsu tech--in japan all together--was overwhelming. you needed time to figure and sort yourself out; cope without having to relive painful memories every time you passed where the incidents took place. 

leaving the two people who helped you cope during the ordeal with suguru was difficult, but though they too were pained to part from their friend, they also understood the importance of your leave. they weren’t too stressed, though. you’d stay in touch. you promised. 

shoko stepped forward to give you one final departing gift, wrapping her arms around your neck as you immediately reciprocated, and in shoko’s arms did you mull over whether this was the right choice for you for the nth time. 

a couple moments pass before the two of you pull apart, with shoko whispering a threatening “you better call.” one final time, jabbing an accusing finger at you as if you had already broken your promise, before stepping off to the side to allow satoru to get his own affairs in order. he stepped toward you with a roll of his eyes. 

satoru gojo has been an insufferable ass ever since you met him in your first year. to you, he once came off inconsiderate and ill-mannered, and to satoru, you once came off stuck up and uptight. yet somehow the mutual distaste you two had for each other upon first meeting turned into a friendship filled with teasing.

it felt weird leaving satoru behind especially, because somehow along the bumpy road the two of you took to get to where you were now, something yet again shifted in the way you viewed him, a shift you were still unfamiliar with. it felt strange leaving without it figured out. but you’d get a chance to, you hoped. like with everything else in your bizarre life. 

your usual banter insued as satoru took hold of the handle on your suitcase, swinging it back and forth before loading it into the open trunk. you threatened satoru to look out for himself and not be too much of a nuisance while you were away as he did so. he clicked his tongue as he brought the trunk down with a thud! and waved off your false threats. 

”don't miss me too much, y/n.” he smirked over his shoulder, tinted glasses sliding down the slope of his nose as he stepped back up on the sidewalk. cerulean eyes shone under the morning sunlight, fixed on you with an intense gaze in contrast to his easy smile. you looked over your shoulder as you opened the rear car door, mimicking his expression. 

”won't be a problem.”

the first couple of months went strong. you upheld your promise of calling shoko frequently, and satoru would often squeeze himself into the frame of shoko’s camera to tease or hurl an insult toward you. she’d shoo him off or laugh along, because she too missed the playful banter you all once immersed yourselves in. and though you were far from the paths you once trekked with your friends, only ghosts of those moments lingering on them now, at least there was no trace of your dying friendship.

more time passed and contact became less frequent. life went on, and keeping in touch as regularly as you once did became increasingly difficult. only on occasion were you able to organize a chat, so much yet so little to be said. each new life event shared left you to ponder over even hours after you had hung up the phone. 

and soon enough, a decade had passed. ten years you thought you’d spend in agony over being away from the people and places you considered home flew by considerably fast, and the thought nauseated you slightly as you reminisced on memories from your youth. 

the nostalgia of your teenage years lingered like a light fog in your mind, always finding some way to trace even the most mundane of things back to your old friends, especially satoru gojo. even after ten long, busy years, you still found that annoying white haired friend of yours lingering in the back of your mind. 

though so much time had passed, you hadn’t gone cold turkey with your communication from your friends; only infrequent. you knew of the important things: the promising new students at jujutsu tech, satoru becoming a teacher, the curse that was rika, the night parade of a hundred demons, toji’s son that satoru was now looking over—suguru’s death. all things recollected to you from your texts with shoko and gojo. though neither of them were quite big on details.  

ten years has definitely granted you time to think, to organize, to consider and try new things. you worked through complicated feelings, you met new people, you saw and experienced new things, and certainly had all those things teach you a couple of important lessons. 

and ultimately, after over a decade, you made the decision to return to japan as a teacher at jujutsu tech. 

around this time, you felt a consistent nagging as if there was still a missing, unsorted piece of your life. you believed that perhaps the decision to return home was spurred by the growing intensity of it. it built up slowly over your less frequent phone calls and text conversations with your old friends and the ever growing amount of changing of their lives back home. though perhaps suguru’s death compelled you to return as well. 

you returned the following year after the night parade of a hundred demons. you convinced yourself it would just be a friendly reunion like with the rest of your old friends, but the second you were standing face to face with satoru, your heart said otherwise. 

it wasn’t unusual to feel anxious when reuniting with someone, but the painstakingly long pause that followed upon being reunited after so many years made you suppress a shudder. It was hard to believe the man in front of you was the troublemaker you used to go to school with. It was hard to believe he was even real. 

you used the silence to get a good look at him, just to make sure it was truly him (and you think satoru was doing the same, regardless of his six eyes.) he had gotten even taller, and he now wore his messy locks of snow white hair up. his uniform was still fitted as it used to be, always just a bit baggier than his tall frame. 

but the most prominent difference was his new defining feature, and so you decided to comment on it first. satoru was still in a sort of trance (of shock you guessed; your only indicator were his slightly parted lips) when you broke the ice with a smirk and the words he had parted with you over a decade ago.

"hope you didn’t miss me too much, satoru. what's with the tacky blindfold?” 

and the grin that followed on his lips stretched from ear to ear.

satoru your coworker wasn't all that different from satoru your classmate. he was still as childish as ever, irritated by the higher ups and an irritation to all those around him. you found that out rather quickly when reuniting with yaga and nanami. you made a dramatic fuss over how much they both had changed, nanami shyly looking down with a slight frown reminiscent of the signature one he wore when he was younger. you didn’t feel it was appropriate to bring up haibara or suguru at any point. 

but your relationship with satoru your coworker was off from your relationship with satoru your classmate. It had been years, and you’ve fallen into your normal rhythm with satoru pretty quickly and easily on the surface. but the passage of time was still evident in your conversations as it was with the changes in your appearances. time matured him (or most likely his ordeals with suguru). even his manner of speaking was so serious sometimes that it caught you off guard. it felt even worse than having him hate you, treating you as if you were a stranger hurting that much more.

so much yet so little had changed. you were taken aback by the amount of maturity in his reasoning for wanting to become a teacher, even if it was so out of place for him, over a catch up brunch. it almost made you feel as if he were a stranger, with a new sense of maturity coupled with his new, more distant look and behaviour.

he’d tease you like he always did, but it didn't have as much bite. he'd show you around tokyo, treating you to desserts and jokingly gifting you funny souvenirs; but because satoru had become so unfamiliar, it didn’t feel as comforting as you thought it would. 

and that nagging feeling that you couldn’t quite put your finger on arose again.

you reunited with mei mei and utahime during the sister school goodwill event, with the latter enveloping you in a large hug reminiscent of the ones you received when you left them over a decade ago. they had all stayed relatively close, with utahime becoming a teacher like satoru at the sister school in kyoto. 

you were good friends with her, always defending her from satoru’s insults and indulging in her (in your case, faux) hatred toward satoru. you two had also stayed in close contact, appreciating all the emotional support she provided and her updates on the events in her life and the jujutsu world (with complaints about satoru tossed in here and there). 

which is why your jealousy was irrational, you thought to yourself as you watched satoru and utahime in the monitoring room. you knew satoru and utahime being the last two people in the world wouldn’t make them fall in love. even if they were, your jealousy was still out of place. if anything, you should feel happy for your two old friends.

but perhaps it had more to do with the distance and familiarity satoru and utahime were able to maintain, even if it was their regular quarreling and distaste for one another. perhaps the way they were able to slip into the routine they’ve kept up for so many years, no matter how ruthless it was, ate at you, reminded you of how different things were between you and satoru. you weren’t two teenagers who’d sometimes catch each other’s stares from across a room. you weren’t attending school together and going on missions. 

and the distance was bound to strain your relationship. but you figured that if there was anyone you’d be able to break back into routine with, it was the troublemaker you had known since the two of you were fresh faced students like the ones he now mentors. 

it was all those little things stacked atop each other, that casual and distant demeanor satoru treated you with as if you were a stranger, time staring back at you in the mature way he, shoko and utahime carried themselves, and satoru slipping into a routine that you were sure you and him would be able to maintain with someone else, made that whole tower of unease fall apart with that final crack. 

he had walked off after you after you had excused yourself from the room, feeling sick the more you thought about the large gap in memories, in time, in knowledge, between you and the others. 

“jealous?” he smirked, clearly amused by your sudden outburst (and deeply curious, since it was so out of character for you). 

“not a chance.”

not in the way he was suggesting, at least. you waved him off. “go back to your flirting session.” 

and Satoru stopped in his tracks, recoiling in disgust over the mere implication. because even he knew that you would never think such a thing of his relationship with utahime, even if he were to one day tell you that something was going on. 

perhaps it was the distance, satoru thought to himself sadly. because while to you satoru didn’t seem to be all that affected by your return, he still saw in you that old classmate of his that made his face burn with simply the strength they exhibited, with only a short meeting of gazes from across a room as a teenager, and his heart ached at emotional distance. there was no way that classmate that knew which treats to bribe him with and what games were his favorite would ever assume such a thing about him. 

getting through to one another was never easy, both of you equally stubborn in your resolve. and when you throw this terrible distance, these horrible feelings of insecurity and confusion, it made the miscommunication between the two of you that much worse. 

but satoru remembers the day you left as if no time had passed at all. he remembers the rising lump in his throat as he watched you say your goodbyes with shoko. he remembers the wave of fear that washed over him as he watched you turn your back from him, reminiscent of the event that took place when his best friend left him for good. he remembers the confession on the tip of his tongue as he looked down at you and into your sharp gleaming eyes, words he’s debated with himself for years over whether or not he was a coward or a hero in not saying.

and right now, as he stares at your confused and hurt expression, your back turned to him yet again, all those feelings wash over him and he feels as if it may be the former, because now he’s let his insecurity hurt you. but he also knows that whether he was a coward or hero then doesn’t matter now. he wouldn’t allow a repeat of what happened all those years ago. he wouldn't let himself hesitate.

he reached to grab your wrist, and you harshly recoiled, shooting him an angry glare from across your shoulder. “what the- hell, satoru? would you just-”

“i wasn’t flirting.” 

“whatever. I don’t-”

suguru knew him better than anyone. shoko knows him better than anyone. you know him better than anyone.

“utahime? really? i would think that you know me better than that.” 

the pout on his face seeped into his voice, and you further struggled in his grip. “things change with time, satoru. you can’t expect me-”

the distance was fine. satoru could do distance. but it was this misunderstanding that made his stomach churn uncomfortably. it was the fact that he seemed so unknown to you. that you seemed so unknown to him. who knew that such a minor misunderstanding would carry so much emotional baggage, invoke such strong reactions from the two of you? 

“can’t use that excuse if i’ve always been in love with you.”

you immediately stopped fidgeting, staring at satoru’s serious expression with wide eyes. his pout settled into a deep frown, and you’re absolutely despising the fact that you can’t see his eyes with that stupid new blindfold. stupid time. stupid change. 

“i’m in love with you,” he said again with a shrug. “and that never changed.”

silence. all you could do is continue to stare at him as he held your wrist. but then you inhaled sharply and satoru released his grip. you took another deep breath, and then…

“how the hell am I supposed to know something like that? it’s been over ten years, satoru gojo. everything feels different- you look different!- and you expect me to know you’ve been in love with me for how long?”

you ranted all your anger toward him as you jabbed a finger into his chest, while he continued to stare down at you with a frown and his hands now buried in his pockets. his lack of a reaction only added to your frustration, and you still felt as if you were staring at a stranger. 

“take off that damn blindfold.” 

his mouth drops into a small o for a moment, before he brings a hand to his face. it feels as if an agonizing amount of time passes as satoru slips the blindfold down from his eyes to hang over his neck. his hair falls into that familiar disheveled heap, and you’re immediately met with a familiar rush of anxiety rushing through your veins as you make eye contact with his blue ones. 

big and bright, and staring down at you with so much longing. his hand stays on his blindfold, and the frown stays etched into his face, but you can finally see those eyes. the ones that sent a wave of warmth over you when they connected with yours. the ones you found yourself gazing at as you leaned your head against a desk, admiring them from a sideways angle as they glistened in a ray of sunlight. one’s you knew you could rely on, not because they belonged to the strongest or because of the power they held, but because they belonged to your best friend, to the boy that made your heart stutter. 

and you’re too emotional finally seeing your satoru gojo to care about the fact that you were now sobbing into satoru’s chest in relief over something familiar, and you cried even harder when his arms wrapped around your frame, head resting sideways into your hair. and you felt stupid for breaking down over something so childish, so minor.

but maybe some things didn’t change and maybe some change was for the better. because you’ve had over ten years to figure yourself out and so did satoru, and with your decision to return home was your decision to return to satoru synonymous with it. 

and you felt satoru finally smile a genuine and childish and familiar sort of smile, into your hair, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about how stupid you felt in that moment. 

and that final unsorted piece of your life finally stopped nagging at you, as if satoru had exorcised a curse that lingered on your back these past ten years. those confusing and unidentifiable feelings you felt for satoru way back when. together, you’d be able to rebuild your relationship with satoru into the way it used to be all those years ago, not a single detail unknown, so you could put all those insecurities and fear to rest. 

[calo-wav]

because i’m still in love with you / i wanna see you dance again

something something post-canon exes who can't love anyone else because they're still in love with each other but one is rooted to the earth in terror and the other one only finds peace in the stars

fic im writing transparent ver (looks really cool against a dark bg!) + sketch ⮕ final process below

[bugwolfsstuff]

I have many thoughts about Mr. D's demigod days

Especially cus like that man has to have so fucking much trauma.

Like his foster family killed eachother infront of him cus Hera and he couldnt do shit about it cus Zeus turned him into a goat (again dude what is it with you turning people you love into things instead of helping)

Hera made him insane

And He's a demigod son of Zeus so he's gonna attract a bunch of monsters.

And im headcanoning that he never went to CHB as a demigod and just ruffed it out in the wild cus its awkward cus i ship Chiron x Dionysus (or as i like to call them, Wine Teacher)

But seriously

How many nights did he spend alone?

How many friends did he make only have to abandon or watch get murdered cus monsters?

How many times did he pray to a father that didnt care.

Did he wish he was dead? Or never existed?

Did he curse the father that brought him into this life only to let him suffer?

I just love him so much! I just wanna... *shakes him vigorously like a maraca* give him more trauma and absolutely tear him apart and put him back together!

Please someone talk to me about him and his issues.

[canonically47]

poolverine wip :)

i love them.. ourghrhr........

EDIT: you can now find this fic (with some edits) on ao3 here!

[minhio22]

My Melody

Paradox live x sanrio collab

Yeon Hajun x reader

Word count: 1122 words

It's a random af idea that came to me while i was studying for my national exams. Also me finally laying out this thing so it looks a bit more appetising 🧍

You were surprised when BAE brought back the thing you were staring at. They placed it on the couch you were sitting on. You were waiting for them at their shared apartment and when Hajun brought it back from wherever they got it you were surprised. 

Long pink rabbit like ears, a cape inspired by little red riding hood and a light blue bow on one of her ears. It would be a lie to say you weren't familiar with the all popular Sanrio character My Melody but you were just stunned that they brought her out of nowhere. Hajun seemed amused at your staring as your mouth was slightly opened. Hajun was leaning against his palm, gauging your reactions hoping to tease you for them later but for now he would let you stare in awe. Anne and Allen were there on the couch too snickering slightly at your reactions. 

"So remind me why you have My Melody here with you guys? Also, can I touch her or something?" You questioned not even averting your gaze. 

"Well every group in Paradox Live is collabing with Sanrio characters. We're gonna do a photoshoot with them at a later date. They let us bring them home so we could bond."  Allen answered.

"Every group gets a different character. We got this little cutie right here." Anne squeezed My Melody's cheeks. "Here, here, go on, you can hold her and even have a conversation with her!" Anne gushed as they placed the rabbit that's the size of a small stuffed animal in your arms. 

"And the one who has the honor of modeling would be yours truly. Not that anyone else would be fit." Hajun smirked as he still stared at your reactions. You were too enamored by the little bunny in your arms to even deadpan at your boyfriend's ego. 

"I'm Melody! Who are you?" Melody had beamed at you. You definitely felt like some part of your childhood self had been fulfilled. She was too cute that you couldn't help but crack a smile at her.

"I'm Y/n." You hesitate momentarily wondering if you mention it but Hajun did it for you. The man slyly took your hand and kissed your palm.

"My girlfriend." Hajun smirked albeit affectionately enjoying the sudden flush on your face from his actions.

"Oh! The prince-like guy has a pretty significant other!" Melody clapped her hands happily. The other two laughed at the interaction, finding it entertaining.

"So um.. What was that about you modeling?" You asked, trying to change the subject. Hajun had let go of your hand. 

"Well my dear girlfriend. I shall be modeling with Melody here for merchandise to sell. Why would you like to tag along and see your handsome boyfriend in action?" Hajun teased. 

Ugh he really knew how to get you going but the offer was tempting. Hajun was already good-looking as he normally was but when he was modeling…. Let's just say it's a whole nother level in itself. It was something that could get anyone's knees weak and jaw drop. He was just that catching so when he said that even though it was for the purpose of teasing you…. You had to mull it over. 

A few days had passed and you caved in. You were at the place where they would be taking pictures. Some of the members from other teams were there also. Like Shiki from TCW with Hello Kitty, Nayuta from cozmez with Little Twin Stars and to your worries, Hajun's half-brother, Dongha was there along with Kuromi. You just hoped Hajun didn't suddenly decide to start verbally fighting with Dongha or someone else. But you knew he took his job seriously and he keeps his professionalism.

Allen and Anne opted to not come as only Hajun was needed for the photoshoot and they had other errands to do. (Allen had deadlines to finish.) So here you were with Melody in your arms as you waited for Hajun. He left her with you as he went to get ready. You wondered what he would wear for this photoshoot. 

As if the universe heard your thoughts at that moment, Hajun came out of the dressing room and hands down you were swooning and falling for him all over again. Blood rushed to your cheeks painting them a healthy red. Hajun noticed you from afar and smirked as he headed your way.

"Wowie! Hajun really looks handsome." Melody had said to you. You just nodded absentmindedly as you were busy staring at the man that was heading your way ready to tease you relentlessly. 

He was in an all pink outfit to which you thought suits him surprisingly well. Pink polo shirt, with a sweater fitted over it and a loose jacket over it. Three layers of clothing and a little light blue ribbon clipped onto his collar that matched that of Melody. Hajun had arrived in front of you as you were soaking the image of him in your mind. How badly you wanted to take a picture of him right now but you wouldn't hear the end of it from him. 

Hajun leaned down and whispered in your ear. "So how do I look?" He whispered with a big smirk on his face at your flushed face.

"Surprisingly pink suits you way too well Hajun." You answered somehow without stumbling over your words. 

"Hajun looks handsome!" Melody excitedly said. 

Hajun chuckled and thanked Melody as he gently took her from your arms as if you two were transferring a baby. He didn't pull back without leaving a mischievous peck on your cheek making you even more flustered. He winked and walked off to his photoshoot. You saw him momentarily glare at someone behind you but you brushed it off thinking it might just be Dongha or someone else. You just stared at him walking away while rubbing the place he just kissed on your cheek, your face flushed red. You supposed you would enjoy the view then.

After the photoshoot Hajun showed you a picture of yourself sleeping with Melody in your arms which he took without you realizing. You were so embarrassed because you looked like a wreck in the picture that you tried to take his phone from him to delete it. Unfortunately he dangled the phone far away from your reach since he was taller to which you could only tiptoe to try and reach. He only smirked as he kept teasing you unrelenting with his mischievous jabs saying how cute you look and all. It was all true words but Hajun always relishes in teasing you. He planted another kiss on your cheek making you even more embarrassed!

Bonus:

[gemharvest]

brovers ........... read the oneshot of them Ochre wrote Right Now this is an order

[dmitriyuriev]

Point of no return.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Heyo, super late to the Christmas party, but I wanted to say thank ya again for drawing up my request! (It was the mrs.beagle Laughingstock Christmas times but I can't prove it bwhaha)

Besides from it being super cute and fun, it had that holiday whimsy 🎄❄️!! You know? My fav detail was Howdy talking about the little caterpillars each carrying an ornament, that idea of just- an army of those guys trying to decorate a tree filled me with both fear and joy, so thank you again 💓

Keep doing what ya doing, your artwork is lovely, and have a happy new year!

i'm happy it Provided! it was a fun little prompt and a bit of a challenge to scribble, overall an absolute delight <3

[cl0wn-tim3]

Spent more time than I'd like to admit making him a playlist

[farolero-posting]

What the Solstice ending brings to the themes of OneShot

(A.K.A: Why I think Solstice is kinda cool but instead of giving a normal answer I just type like 2k words)

While I think that a reasonable amount of people value the additional content you can uncover by playing again, I'm also aware that other people have their reservation or even dislike it. Despite that, I think there is a lot of value on what it brings to the story, how it gives a new view to some elements from the base game, and the way it is a response to your "abilities" as a player, and your motivation to do those things in a way that speaks to the way people approach stories. With that in mind, I wanna present to you why I think Solstice adds to the overall story, and how in fact "changing" the base themes is coherent for this story, too.

Needless to say, I WILL discuss OneShot spoilers in depth, so give the game a try on your own to get the most out of the experience, but otherwise, keep reading! Now let's get into the real thing.

When you think about what OneShot’s main theme is, the most likely answer is that there is only one opportunity in life. This means that your actions have consequences, and that some actions cannot be undone. From the beginning, the game sets a stage where you, as a player, are responsible for keeping Niko, this child given the role of savior, safe. Going into the game without prior knowledge means that you’re likely to be cautious about your actions, the choices you make, even if small, and your efforts are focused on being successful with the one chance you get.

You soon find out that the world Niko is in is slowly, but relentlessly, decaying, which has made many of the people in this world give up their hope of salvation, and are hanging on by a thread that is getting thinner as time goes by. The quest begins to shift from “doing what you have to do and creating optimal conditions” to “trying to do your best, knowing that some things are out of your control”. Because it turns out that Niko and you are late. The environment has been affected in irreversible ways, some areas are abandoned and others are unreachable by normal means (even Niko themself cannot backtrack), and even if one could place the Sun at the top, the other problems will not be solved, even if the presence of the Sun is helpful. It’s even possible that you have lost your chances to complete certain missions, such as getting the necessary supplies to replant the sacred kernel. 

These are all factors that impact the way this chance you’re given plays out. And, in the end, the manifestation of these externally imposed limitations becomes clear, as Niko and you reach the tower, and are presented with the final choice. Whatever you choose ends up being a failure, either for Niko’s quest in this world, or your quest of making sure Niko leaves safely. Your one shot means that you will only get one of these outcomes. and will have to give up the other. It is the biggest exhibit of consequences, and many people can attest to their own difficulties making this choice.

OneShot in the end, becomes a lesson on sacrifices, moral choices, and the limitations of what a person has the chance to do, knowing the consequences of their actions. It’s a heavy theme, and one the story builds up along the journey with the different characters Niko and you meet. Some of them believe letting a natural death occur is the most merciful option, others believe the Sun will make the world a better place, and some believe it is worth returning the sun, even if it’s not a permanent fix. There is no certain truth, no solution that doesn’t come with its drawbacks, and no margin for error.

And then Solstice arrives… shaking the initial themes. 

Well, it doesn’t come out of nowhere. That would not be true. OneShot is most often known and praised for its 4th wall breaking features, and the puzzles that go outside of the game window itself. The player of the game is an active part, known as the god of the world they take Niko through. This is a story device that connects you to Niko and to the world itself, and places the responsibility to care for both of them on your shoulders. It makes the experience more immersive and seeks to convince you, for a moment, that you’re not just an invisible hand controlling things, but someone that actually interacts with a world that responds to you.

In a way, one could look at the reset mechanic from a purely practical lens: if you pay for a game, you deserve a chance to replay it, since it is your property. It won’t hurt to relive the same experience again because you will know you’re just looking at what was already coded into the story, and you would just be looking at it again out of personal interest. You could take the original message at heart and never pick up the game again, leaving questions unanswered and some decisions never made, but… if you do want to relive the story again, or maybe see if you can try the other ending, the option needs to exist.

And you have not stopped being an active part of how the game works, even after the ending. So, when you look for a way to reset it, what you find is a letter instead, written by someone who seems to be the very creator of the game. And he begs you to consider the option, if it is within your possibilities, like a brand new puzzle for you to solve and… maybe this world the creator crafted for you. It makes sense that the game places an in-universe message like this, it keeps the immersive theme.

But… one could argue that allowing resets breaks the feeling that some experiences can only be done once. Niko realizes they know a few things that they don’t remember learning. The Entity can tell that activating NG+ is not something that was supposed to happen according to its own protocol, and the restriction it imposed. Which means that this experience is never the same. But it also means that the game is responding to your actions, in a way that indicates that the original suspension of disbelief that you’re a god making choices for a living world can still be made. It also means that the game acknowledges its nature as a program that you’re in control of, and Solstice definitely makes this aspect more blatant, if you choose to take that path.

When OneShot presents itself, it seems that everything within it is equally real, and that you’re roleplaying as some kind of actual deity… but something looms in the shadows. The way decay is presented as squares, the way the paths seem lined up perfectly for a story, the way there seems to be a protocol to follow, that only the Entity acknowledges, shows that this game may be aware of how You are actually viewing it, from a screen in your computer. The game isn’t a real world, it’s just a program you can turn on and off at will.

And this makes even more sense once we have the added context that the Solstice route provides, since it outright confirms this suspicion. Prototype makes Niko aware of the way we have been looking at their world since the beginning, destabilizing the perception they had of their current mission, and the role you play in it, while also making you aware as a player that Niko is not part of this simulation at all. Later on, Cedric explains that the place Niko is trapped in was made to be a facsimile of their dying world, in hopes that there could be proof of their existence after the destruction of said world, and that he and his siblings are the only ones aware of the previous world existing. This part is important, because it gives us an in-universe reason for this world to exist… that brings new concepts into the main theme of the game, “one chance”.

Why would… why would you create a world like… this? [...] Why would you make a world that's doomed from the beginning? …why do you keep bringing me back to it? Niko, talking to the player during the Solstice run

Niko presents an interesting question, not just about their current situation, but also the intent that is implied in the kind of story that OneShot is. It is one thing to be presented with a scenario where people try their best to respond to their circumstances, and be presented with choices that require sacrifice. It is a different one to think that someone willed this to happen, and that Niko has been put in this scenario… that is within your control. Because you’re the one that started the program, and you’re the one that brought them back. And then the events of Solstice create an even more dangerous situation, as the protocol is broken and, most importantly, as the Entity representing the game itself reacts to Niko’s distress.

Here is where the context of the old/real world becomes crucial, because it shows how a scenario like this could be created, not by the will of a detached writer, but different parties with their own motivations and struggles. Because it turns out that the second chance that the people from the old world were looking for didn’t go as planned, of course, we know this. The original choice in the end of OneShot wasn’t intended by the in-universe creators, and yet in a way it still resonates with the way people were divided after the old Sun died. This world, made with the memories of people who lived in a world that would certainly end within their time, is also manifesting that same thing.

What is the point of making a story like OneShot, where this world can be saved, if not to give it a second chance? And what are you as a player doing, by going out of your way to do everything again? As I said, it has the plus side that the game responds to your actions outside of it, but now it adds another layer of it: your motivations to be proactive, may have something in common with the motivation that led to the creation of the game in the first place, at least from the perspective of the characters that are affected by this.

As we can see Solstice recontextualizes the story and provides an explanation for how the game itself comes to be aware of how we see it. But the point of Solstice is that it is alive, in a way. It was created with an intent to share a story, as a means for people to be remembered beyond their time. It’s meant to cause an impression on the person receiving this story. And, as we have established before, the way it is set up treats the player as an active participant in the story, someone who has an influence that is distinct from that of everyone else. The story impacts us, and in a similar way we impact it with our attachment to it, with our actions to do more than what it limited itself to present you with.

Something else funny and interesting happens too… you may realize that the base game doesn’t offer that much in the realm of consequential choices, besides the ending. Your biggest impact is how you treat Niko, and the connection you make with them. They’ll ask about your life beyond the game, look for comfort, and react to both your good and bad ideas. It doesn’t change how much you save the world, but it shapes who you are to Niko, and changes their experience too. You treat them like a good friend, listen to them… you tame them. 

Which is the other big theme of OneShot. Taming, in the original Little Prince, is a concept to explain the way people get attached to someone else, and how the bond formed with someone else changes people fundamentally, and makes the tamed individual distinct from everyone else. In OneShot, it refers to the way in which robots gain sentience after forming bonds with people, after being treated as people with their own thoughts and will, allowing them to act beyond their programming. And in the context of a story, it is equivalent to the way the audience takes the story as real, and sees the characters within as people whose actions are motivated by personal motivations and goals, rather than commanded by the writer, even when we know that their nature is fictional.

We develop this sort of relationship with Niko, and through their experiences, we also begin to develop this relationship with the other residents of this world, who begin to make new decisions that make sense for them as characters, in a context that wasn’t predicted by the story itself. 

And we, in turn, are the ones constantly interacting with this Entity, the game itself. We get to see the puzzles in which it tries to make it clear that it can do a lot outside of the window itself. We can see the way it attempts to keep us from making decisions that go against parts of its programming, despite the contradictions these actions create. OneShot is a story that didn’t want to put Niko through all of this, that didn’t want to repeat the suffering that brought it into existence, but who doomed itself when it tried to manifest its sentience. The World Machine tries to break the immersion, tries to show you its flaws, and we instead recognize personhood within.

Without Solstice, this sort of relationship never becomes clear, and it never gets the chance to evolve. Hell, one could even say that challenging the initial theme of “one chance”, by proposing that we can do something better this time IS the perfect way to establish a conversation that leads to change, that sets the story apart from others. And in the end, once the run is completed, the efforts done by you as a player, Niko, and everyone else pays off, giving you a more satisfying ending. The message that this sends is that, while some situations are out of our control and we must be careful with the consequences of our actions, we will never achieve change if we don’t act outside of the margins, and that, when we do this, we can provide a second chance.

Final words:

In conclusion… while I can understand that Solstice doesn’t hit everyone the same way, and that it has its limitations in execution (especially if spoiled), it’s a solid continuation. It takes some of the themes present in the initial game, and then proceeds to converse with them, using its resources as a game to create an immersive experience, and reward the player for being proactive. I believe that’s worth valuing, and serves to reflect on the way people interact with stories in personal ways, making them gain a place in their hearts.

[kellyscowboy]

꒰✧ᯇ✦꒱ OUTLAWS OF SANTA FE

ᯇ summary ! ✦ “You know what they say about cowboys who brag too loud about their women.” He sniffed and rubbed his nose. Jack gave a mock laugh. “Anyone in town would tell you I’m not queer. ‘Specially the ladies who pass through. Who do you think you are, anyway?” As the boy pushed his hat out of his face, he made direct eye-contact with the outlaw. "I think I'm the fella that can send the ‘famous’ Jack Kelly home crying to his mama." Jack was silent, stunned. His finger was still pressed into the man’s chest, but it had begun to shake. "What now, Cowboy? I'd tell you to take me down like you promised," Deadwood gave a slight shove to Jack’s shoulder, yet he found himself almost toppling over. "But you're too corned to even stand straight." aka the wild westsies au i've had in my drafts forever ᯇ tag list ! ✦ @bound-for-santa-fe ,, @fandomtrashcollector (taglist form is in my pinned post!!) ᯇ warnings ! ✦ cussing, alcohol consumption, violence, use of guns ᯇ vienna's thoughts ! ✦ here are the meanings of the wild west slang words in here:) paintin' his nose - to get drunk corned - drunk fogy - a stupid fellow dynamite - whiskey ANYWAY, i've had this in my drafts for forever and i just wanted to finally finish is so sorry that the ending is really rushed el oh el. also i recommend listening to Billy the Kid by Tex Ritter before reading!! as always, reblogs & comments are always appreciated <333 ALSO READ IT ON AO3 THE PLAYLIST 2883 WORDS © 2023 , 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲

WANTED Jack ‘Cowboy’ Kelly $1,000.000 REWARD Wanted for robbery, murder, and disruption of the public. Does not attack without motive. Contact Sheriff Charles Morris of Santa Fe, New Mexico.

WANTED The Delancey Brothers $500.000 REWARD Oscar and Morris Delancey are wanted for robbery and attempted murder. Contact Sheriff Charles Morris of Santa Fe, New Mexico.

WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE Deadwood David $5,000.000 REWARD Wanted for robbery and murder, on a large scale. Does not attack without motive. Contact Sheriff Charles Morris of Santa Fe, New Mexico.

A proud cowboy listened to the chatter of customers outside of Spots Shootin' Saddle Saloon. A cocky smirk played at his lips as he pushed through swinging doors. He heard gasps and the sound of multiple pistols being dragged from his holster. Then, the saloon went silent—save for the high-pitched squeak of wet glass being towel dried.

The bartender didn't even spare him a glance. "Well, well. If it ain’t the famous Jack Kelly."

“I could say the same to you, Spot. Lookit you, got yer own saloon and everything.”

One of the saloon boys perked up. "Jack!” The boy gave a half-hearted excuse to the men he was serving, he made up for his departure with a wink. He eagerly made his way behind the bar and began fixing the ex-cowboy a drink. "What brings you into town?"

Jack gratefully took the drink with a tip of his hat. “You’re a good man, Race.” He downed the drink before addressing the question before him. "Can't a lonely cowboy just visit his old friends?"

"Why, sure he could!” Racetrack grinned, already refilling his glass.

“That is, if that's what he was really doing." Spot added quickly. “Besides, can’t really be calling yourself a cowboy anymore. Not when a wanted poster names you an outlaw.”

“I can call myself whatever I please.” The cowboy realized it was a fight not worth fighting. He waved him off and dragged the newly poured whiskey closer. "Howd’ya know it was me?”

Spot laughed. "What, when you walked in? Yer the only fella I know who quiets my saloon like that.”

Racetrack leaned forward against the counter; his arm wrapped lovingly around Spot’s waist. He rested his head in his own hand, his elbow digging into marble, and gave Jack a pointed look. "Not anymore. Say, Jack; you heard of that David feller, yet? He paid us a visit couple’a days ago. Shoot, we didn’t hear much noise in here ‘till the next day!”

Jack's fingers squeezed his glass, before they relaxed and stretched. "Yeah, I've heard of him. Fill 'er up again, would'ya?"

Spot took the glass and kept his gaze on the outlaw whilst he poured the whiskey. He placed it in front of the boy with a thump, then glared at him through narrowed eyes. "What are you really here for, cowboy?"

"Just paintin’ my nose, Spot." Jack pushed away from the bar, drink in hand. He sat down with a boy who was lazily pulling at the strings of his guitar. “Tell me a story, Al."

The boy responded with a toothy grin, then tipped his hat up and out of his eyes. He slowly looked up and made eye contact with the outlaw. “Long time no see, Jackie." He plucked at his guitar more rhythmically than before. "What'cha wanna hear?"

"Why don’t you tell that one about ole Billy the Kid?”

"Only because you're an old friend." Albert chuckled. He took a deep breath before he put on his story-telling voice. His demeanor demanded the attention of those around him, and he always got it when he was performing. "Some folks do a lot of good in the world, that encourages us to do good. A few people start off on the wrong foot - their black deeds serve as a warning post to us. The song I'm gonna to sing for you now, fellers, is about a boy who sorta wandered off the straight and narrow trail, took up a crooked course. As usual with all outlaws, he paid with his life. His name,” a pause, “was Billy the Kid."

His singing was mesmerizing, just like his stories, and everyone in the saloon slowly began to sing along. Some of them absentmindedly hummed along as they gambled, and others gave the man their full attention. They swayed merrily back and forth with each other, their glasses raised to the gods as they hooted and hollered.

"I'll sing you a true song of Billy the Kid. I'll sing of the desperate deeds that he did. Out in New Mexico, long time ago, When a man's only chance was his own forty-four."

While everyone sang along, a boy slipped in through the doors, entirely unnoticed. He whispered to Spot and kept his head hung low. Had he made any noise, it had been covered up by obnoxious singing. The boy pushed a couple of coins across the counter before he slumped farther into his hat.

"When Billy the Kid was a very young lad, In old Silver City, he went to the bad. Way out in the West with a gun in his hand- At the age of twelve years, he killed his first man."

Racetrack wanted to tell Jack about the man at the bar, but Spot had instructed him to keep quiet. He had been told to loosen the outlaw up, and he did just that. Race kept a close eye on Jack’s drink and made sure he never reached the bottom of his glass.

"Fair Mexican maidens play guitars and sing A song about Billy, their boy bandit king. How ere his young man-hood had reached it's sad end, Had a notch on his pistol for twenty-one men."

To say the drinks had loosened him up would be an understatement. Jack pranced around the table­—dragging Racetrack along with him—with his glass raised. The whiskey sloshed over the side and splashed his boots. He jumped atop the tables and managed to gain the attention of all the customers. It wasn’t long before everyone was shouting and throwing their drinks into the air.

"Twas on the same night, when poor Billy died, He said to his friends, 'I'm not satisfied, Twenty-one men I have put bullets through. Sheriff Pat Garrett must make twenty-two."

Jack tried to sing along, but his mouth had other plans. He rambled to Albert, who just smiled as he sang, about his recent affairs. “I could take down the sheriff!” He bragged. “No! I could take down big ol’ Deadwood David… with my eyes closed!” Al shook his head and his eyes flitted quickly to the man at the bar.

"Now this is how Billy the Kid met his fate. The bright moon was shining, the hour was late. Shot down by Pat Garrett, who once was his friend. The young outlaw's life had now come to its end."

“Don’t make promises ya can’t keep, Kelly.” Spot warned with a sigh. Racetrack cocked an eyebrow from his place next to Jack. He raised the pitcher in question, and moved away from the table when Spot shook his head. The cowboy waved off Spot’s warning as the bartender whispered lowly to his customer.

"There's many a man with a face fine and fair, Who starts out in life with a chance to be square. But just like poor Billy, he wanders astray And loses his life in the very same way."

Everyone cheered in unison for the song; although, some might’ve been cheering for their gambling wins. Albert smiled and tipped his hat before he went back to strumming mindlessly at his guitar. A small grin made its way onto his face as Jack drunkenly droned on.

"D’ya hear Spot? Talkin’ bout promises I can't keep!" He scoffed; a drunk burp made its way up his throat. "I mean- Listen, I've got way more kills under my belt than Billy the Kid had got." Jack took a sip of his glass. Race had been filling it with coffee, but he was much too drunk to notice. “He would’ve never died if he was as experienced as me. Besides, this Deadwood guy’s a total poser. I betcha I could take him on with my-” He looked confused for a second. “With my- my eyes closed!”  

“So you’ve said.” Albert shook his head and chuckled. "Anyhow… the song ain’t a challenge, Cowboy. It's a warning. Don’t mess with something that ain’t botherin’ you.”

"You’re starting to sound like my Papaw, Al.” Jack bumped Albert’s shoulder with his cup. “He don’t look good on you. Oh! You know who looked good on me, though? Them gals over in Tombstone.”

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!" He slurred. "I mean, practically a different girl each night. Gorgeous women too. Unlike any lady out in these parts."

An obnoxious scoff came from the boy at the bar. He circled his finger around the rim of his glass as he spoke, his head still down. “I sure ain’t heard any Tombstone ladies bragging on about pirooting with a Jack Kelly.”

All conversation ceased at the boy’s words. The notes on Albert’s guitar suddenly became more dramatic, and Jack would’ve laughed if he wasn’t so offended. Spot let out an exasperated sigh, but the rest of the customers were visibly tense. Every man had a hand on his gun, waiting for a showdown.

Jack turned and stared the boy down. "Maybe you ain't talked to the right ladies.”

"Maybe you just ain’t worth bragging about.” The boy took a sip of his drink. Racetrack let out a short giggle, then nervously ducked under the counter to make a drink that nobody had asked for. “Or, maybe, you ain’t really been with as many ladies as you claim.”

Disgruntled, Jack got up and made his way to the bar. The boy laughed as the outlaw tripped a little over his own feet. Jack grabbed the man by a shoulder and forced him to spin in his chair. He shoved a mean finger into the man’s chest. The man at the bar snickered, his face still covered by his hat.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Huh?”

“You know what they say about cowboys who brag too loud about their women.” He sniffed and rubbed his nose.

Jack gave a mock laugh. “Anyone in town would tell you I’m not queer. ‘Specially the ladies who pass through. Who do you think you are, anyway?”

As the boy pushed his hat out of his face, he made direct eye-contact with the outlaw. "I think I'm the fella that can send the ‘famous’ Jack Kelly home crying to his mama." Jack was silent, stunned. His finger was still pressed into the man’s chest, but it had begun to shake. "What now, Cowboy? I'd tell you to take me down like you promised," Deadwood gave a slight shove to Jack’s shoulder, yet he found himself almost toppling over. "But you're too corned to even stand straight."

Spot cleared his throat. “I won’t have you dunderheads havin’ a showdown in my saloon. Be respectable, boys.”

“There wasn’t gonna be no showdown, anyhow. This feller’s too drunk to do anything. He couldn’t shoot at me even if he had his pistol to my head.” Deadwood flicked a coin to Spot. “Thanks for the dynamite, Spot.” And with that, he proudly walked out of the saloon.

Jack watched the man leave and stood tall with fake pride. After the man was gone, he made a drunken attempt to sit down but instead accepted his place on the floor. Racetrack sighed and raised the outlaw by his armpits before sitting him on a barstool. Spot scoffed as he handed the outlaw a glass of water. “I told you not to make promises you can’t keep, you stubborn ole fogy.”

"I'm fixin' to keep that promise. But right now,” He started to gag, “I think I'm gonna be sick."

“Steady, Izar.” Jack mumbled. “Ain’t too far from here.” His horse neighed, almost as if she was responding to him. She even sighed as he stumbled into her. Jack could almost hear her complain about his recklessness. “I ain’t that drunk, Izar. Honest.”

He led her into the stable behind the Conlon home. “Spot was kind ‘nough to give us a nice little place to stay in for the night.” Jack looked around the stable and flinched at the smell of manure. “Well, he offered to let me stay in the house. But ya know I can’t leave you, mama.”

“Second I heard about you, Jack Kelly, I knew you were insane.” A voice muttered from the corner. “But I never would’a figured you was the type of insane to talk to yourself.”

Jack groaned. “Fuckin’ Spot. He knew you’d be here. Ain’t that right, Deadwood?”

“Yup.”

A tense silence fell over them, but Jack was far too tired (and drunk) to start a fight. He began to take off Izar’s saddle. “I wasn’t talkin’ to myself. I was talking to Izar.” He explained and gestured to his horse. Though, as Deadwood laughed, he realized that wasn’t a much better excuse. “Listen, I don’t feel the need to explain myself to you.”

“Yet here you are. Doing it.” Deadwood snorted as he pulled his hat further over his face. The hay he was laying in enveloped him as he snuggled deeper into it. “Now, I promise not to kill ya if ya promise to shut up.”

Jack grunted in agreement. His intuition screamed at him not to let his guard down, but Izar had already nestled herself into the hay. At that moment, he figured his awful gut feeling was just the whiskey from earlier. Besides, Izar had a good judge of character, most of the time. She curled around Jack as he rested against her, and the two slowly drifted off to sleep, just inches away from one of the deadliest men in the country.

Yelling voices and the sound of cracked wood startled Jack awake. Once he came to his senses, he realized that Izar was no longer behind him. Panic filled his chest and he scrambled to his feet. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he began to barely make out what was happening in the shadows.

Deadwood had a lanky boy pinned beneath him, his pistol to the person’s head. Another boy laid up against the wall of the barn; he was surrounded by splinters and his own blood. His head lolled against his shoulder, the blood from his nose pooled on his leather vest. The boy had a gun in his hand, the safety off and his hand on the trigger.

David lifted the boy underneath him by the collar of his shirt and shoved him against the wall. “I knew you were pathetic, Morris. But going so low as to kill a man in his sleep? We may be outlaws, but we have some sense of morality.” His hand in the Delancey brothers’ shirt tightened as he pushed the boy farther into the wall; Jack could hear the wood cracking beneath him. “And you don’t kill a man’s horse. Not unless you’re too much of a pussy to kill the owner.” Then, he dropped the man to the floor and spit at him.

Morris used a dramatic hand to wipe off his face before he scrambled to his feet. His hands shook as he moved to grab his pistol. “You place a single finger on that gun, and I will break every single one of your fingers-” Deadwood growled and grabbed the boy’s wrist. “One. By. One.”

After he let go of Morris’ wrist, the boy tripped over himself as he picked up his brother. Oscar barely seemed alive; his only sign of life had been the elongated groan he let out as Morris lifted him. David stopped the two before they could hurry out the door. “You two better never point a pistol at my Cowboy or his horse ever again. Next time, you don’t get a warning. I’ll line you two up and watch the bullets go straight through both of you.”

The two hesitantly nodded (Oscar moved his head down, and that was enough for David). Morris dragged his brother out the door, and it wasn’t long before the sound of galloping hoofs grew quieter and quieter.

“What the hell was that about?” Jack demanded. Deadwood rolled his eyes and led Izar out from behind his own horse.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Cowboy. Go back to sleep.”

“You’re losin’ it if you think I’m gonna let this shit go,” Jack argued as he moved to pet Izar’s neck. “They got you riled up enough to call me your cowboy.” He scoffed. “And you called me queer.”

David cocked his pistol in retaliation. “I defended you while you’s was asleep, but I’m not against shooting a man who’s awake.”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t worry, Deadwood. I won’t tell no-one ‘bout this. It wouldn’t be good for my reputation, anyhow. Cowboy don’t need no-one to save him.” He closed his eyes, an amused grin on his lips, and went back to resting against Izar.

The infamous outlaw stared at him, before he broke into laughter. “Spot was right. You are a stubborn ole fogy.”

[unicornsaures]

ive had a list of things to write simply based on songs and hoenstly its seeming like a real good idea to write them all with this sudden burst of motivation

[saturnniidae]

Literally anything I say about my aus are subject to possible change unless I write a finished fic..