#WELL THAT GOT LONGER THAN INTENDED

[inkdemonapologist]

Who's your favorite female character in BATIM? Also, what do you think about Audrey as a character (aside from the weird stuff about Joey and "you don't have to be like this" that you mentioned in that one post)? You draw her really well.

Aw, thank you! And MAN that’s a tough question……

Dot and Abby and Susie are my personal stack of favs. Dot’s probably the one where I like her personality as-written the most, since Abby I find difficult to summarise beyond “she’s gender” and loving her friendship with her besties in TIOL (and also getting my heart destroyed after seeing her and Joey interact in DCTL). Abby seems like a delight to interact with and I enjoy that she’s a little bit rude at heart but in a “omg its true but u shouldn’t say it lmao” sort of way, and I get the sense that she and Joey kind of enabled each other when they were younger. I’d love to hear more of her art opinions. I would say I’d get in a fight with her about Monet, but I don’t think she’d even give me the honour of an argument.

We as a fandom have spent a lot of time yelling about how Buddy is clearly autistic and I don’t think we spend NEAR enough time talking about how Dot is clearly autistic as well. I really like the contrast between the two of them through that lens; Buddy has never understood an unstated implication in his life and he’s not about to start now, but badly wants to interact the way he’s expected to, whereas Dot is incredibly intuitive, perceptive, and understands subtext but has no time for it frankly and would rather be direct than conventional. A day after meeting Buddy she’s explaining how conversations work and coaching Buddy on how to ask questions even when he’s being guided away from asking questions, which is definitely a normal way to converse. I love her so much.

Meanwhile Susie is so complicated by virtue of having almost no presence in the books – just the games, where her timeline is one of the most up in the air, her writing is hit or miss, and so so much of her personality is in the gaps between audiologs that, like most in-game BatIMs, means no two fandom Susies are the same. I find her really compelling, though, exploring the character to find that sweet spot between someone who is clearly very charming and cheerful and sweet and sympathetic, but also cruel enough to become Malice, entitled and demanding enough to not take “no” for an answer and to simply decide that Alice should get to be hers forever. I’ve said before that I like to imagine that’s what Sammy saw in her, someone who could somehow be simultaneously thoughtful and optimistic and ruthlessly ambitious. I think she’s neat, but also I love her best when she’s not just sweet and not just horrible.

Anyway, Audrey’s a fun character with a lot of pretty believable emotional responses; when scenes are taken individually, I like her. Grain of salt that I haven’t watched the whole game, I’ve just seen some big moments and cutscenes, SO I COULD BE WAY OFF HERE -- but from what I've seen, while it’s tempting to say she has more personality than her predecessor, I’d be hard-pressed to pin down exactly what that personality is.

I don’t think it was intentional, but Henry’s weary compartmentalisation soaked into every comment he made, even when the things he was saying were deliriously strange (“[survives a deadly supernatural ordeal] huh, looks like I need 3 gears here”). We all made headcanons about how he’s either tired from the loops or selectively mute or just trying not to think about the horrors, and it felt like it worked. But Audrey is tough to really pin down a motivating force for, as if she’s defined by static descriptors like “determined” and “kind” rather than any particular desire like “wants to help” or “wants to stay out of trouble” that might spur her to make decisions based on those desires. Her most consistent character trait is giving others the benefit of the doubt (and constantly getting burned for it) and her most reinforced motivation is that she just wants to not be in the confusing dangerous weird ink place, which, like, same! I WOULDNT WANT TO BE THERE EITHER

She sounds bitter when Joey compares her to a father she never knew, which is an expected and reasonable response on its own that feels right in the moment – but when we look at her timeline (or the Archive’s revelation that she repressed her memories of her father AFTER Joey’s death), it’s actually a sort of difficult reaction to make sense of. I feel like a lot of her reactions are like this, especially near the end; they’re not that weird in the moment, but it’s hard to get a sense of why she’s doing these things or what’s led her to the conclusions she comes to. She defends Wilson to Allison, but like… what led her to believe that he’s legit? We can fill in those blanks with headcanons, of course, but we don’t have strong clues. Is it her having sympathy for him now that she “knows” he’s trying to save his father, or does she think it’s her best shot to get out of here, or does she really believe Wilson is going to fix everything despite everything else she’s seen? Do her chat with Henry and the revelation that Baby Bendy and the Ink Demon are one and the same just not affect her decision-making at all here? Or is killing Baby Bendy just a sacrifice she’s immediately willing to make once she realises that? What ARE Audrey’s feelings on her father and at what point does she remember him? Audrey giving Allison her name is a nice subtle indication that she’s started to accept that Joey’s story might be true, which I genuinely like, but it’s weird that we see her doing that right before insisting that she’s gonna go off and hear Wilson out – we get this indication that she’s started believing Joey, but apparently not enough to decide to try to fix the cycle, not enough to put together that the “wicked creatures who never came from my pen” might be the Keepers that she knows answer directly to Wilson. She’s determined to help Wilson so that she can get out of there, and only after that extremely fails does she decide to try to fix the broken cycle. (Honestly, it would’ve been kinda neat if she HAD in fact been selfishly helping Wilson as a “well, sucks for you guys, but I gotta get home,” and then Joey’s insistence that we always have a chance to make a better choice would actually mean something and inform her decision to take the Reel as more than just “well I guess this is the option that I have left.”)

Anyway, DESPITE THIS CRITICAL PARAGRAPH this is all fine for a player character who basically just needs to go from task to task; I think she’s likeable and I enjoy her interactions. But it does feel like a lot of times she’s just doing the next thing she’s been handed, to me, and it’s harder to make that a part of her personality than it was for Henry. It’d be neat to see a little more of Joey in Joey Drew’s daughter.

[stardustizuku]

Something I find extremely refreshing in AoB is how the narrative lets Rozemyne be a warrior, and the one with the most political influence on her own.

Ive read too many Isekai and almost all the time the power a Female Lead wields is entirely on who she marries or who is interested in her. She may be just the daughter of a marquis, but the crown prince is so infatuated with her, he’ll do anything! So that means he’ll solve all her problems for her!

Which is, fine in some cases. But I noticed this means that if she gets wronged, she’s the never the one to get revenge (even in so called “villainess” stories).

This ties into the idea of women having to remain “good”, so while they are allowed to want revenge, they can never enact it. Or at least not be the one to, through violence, deal the final blow. This would make them directly responsible for their actions. So while the villain/villainess can die, it can never be the FL who uses the sword to kill them. It always has to be through the Male Lead, another Villain, or even the Court System.

So by having the Male Lead be the one to physically enact the revenge or wielding the power - the Female Lead gets to come out as the “good” one in the READER’s eyes. Because her actions can never be morally grey (in fear of alienating readers)

HOWEVER by doing this you also make her power subservient to the man’s affection towards her. And makes her overall power to come off as…useless in some cases.

I just read one where the, supposedly, genius swordswoman is almost r*ped. She does try to attack the man, but gets overwhelmed. The prince is the one who jumps into the action to not only save her, but kill the man. Which was infuriating cause: Why did the author chose to rob her main character of being the one to hurt the men who hurt her? Minutes later she does kill a man, so it was entirely so she could be saved by a man from an even worse man.

But AoB doesn’t do that.

Rozemyne is powerful, because she wields insane amounts of power as Rozemyne. She’s the one who creates trends, she’s the one who knows the Bible, she’s the one who created paper books, she’s the one forming alliances and creating her own “faction” of sorts that is 120% loyal to her.

Never does her power become related to who she’s engaged with. Her power is inherent to her, and people try to tie her down or control her via marriage. She gets engaged to Wilfred because she’s becoming too influential and they hope that that can be transferred to Wilfred and cement HIS position as the next in line. She gets engaged to Sisgwald because she’s the one who is closest to getting the Book of Mestionora and they NEED her be part of the royal family.

The only instance in which she wields the power of who she’s engaged to get away with anything - is during the Ahrensbach attack and it’s simply a

Which facilitated everything but given the circumstances, she was gonna do it even if he didn’t give her his blessing.

Even with her endgame partner, Ferdinand, the dynamic is so different.

In most stories the FL attracts the attention of progressively more powerful and higher-ranking-than-her men, and most always ends up with the one with the highest political power.

In more than one occasion I’ve seen a FL ditch the knight who’s been with her since day 1, to be with the crown prince cause he’s the one who will make her the most powerful woman in the room. It’s always framed as “true love” but sometimes it’s done so poorly you can see that’s just the author wanting her to end up as a princess.

Ferdinand is never the most powerful man in the room. At least politically speaking. Yes, he’s the smartest, most capable and the one pulling the strings, but that doesn’t translate to political power. In part 2, in the temple, the one with the most power is Bezewanst. And part 3 an onwards, you could argue Rozemyne is always the one with the higher rank.

In the temple, she’s the High Bishop, and in the castle she’s an archduke candidate with Leisgang blood. Ferdinand is the High Priest and the half brother of the archduke with no real faction behind him. Rozemyne is aware that titles aren’t the only thing that matters and Ferdinand is obviously the best because he’s capable - but that’s not the norm in most Isekai stories.

It’s even used at times as a way to alíviate Ferdinand’s burden. She’s the High Bishop - she’s capable of denying extra work and even ordering him to take care of himself.

Even as Ferdinand is married off, the one creating connections to the royal family to alíviate his pain is Rozemyne, not the other way around. The one wielding her power to force others to protect her loved ones is HER. Ferdinand is, up to that point, only trying to save himself and Ehrenfest. Rozemyne fits the archetype of a Male Lead far better than Ferdinand in some cases.

And while she never gets to give out the order or kill someone whos wronged her directly, it doesn’t feel bad because one, Rozemyne rarely holds a grudge and sees them getting disposed outside of her eyes as the best way to handle it. Because two, she hates blood and unnecessary violence. And that, in the narrative, is genuinely presented as a flaw. It’s not a “she’s so pure she can’t be mean”, it’s a “she would do it but she genuinely can’t stomach it”. She could do it, she would rather not.

There’s also the fact that she’s genuinely good at combat - at least as a strategist, healer and commander. Her inability to wield a sword to directly attack others (but she did use the spear once) and frail nature, is not doesn’t feel like an excuse to not have her kill, but a limit. She can’t do everything. She’s filling a lot of positions, having her grab a sword is not only out of character but unnecessary.

The only people who she seems to hold a very real grudge against are Georgine and Detline, and that’s entirely for what they’ve done to others, not her. And while I’m still in part 8, her not being the one to directly kill then of get rid of them in the future, does not seem bad. Because Ferdinand and Sylvester have waaaay more reasons to hate them and get their revenge.

[designernishiki]

it’s kinda funny to me how that dumb scene in kiwami 1 of majima getting shot and left for dead in the harbor was basically just added as a half-assed way to explain majima not being around for a bit of the plot, but they accidentally(?) just made it seem like start of a chain reaction where majima ended up feeling slighted and heartbroken after being abandoned like that and then lashed out about it via smashing a big truck into the building kiryu was in. and yeah that isn’t inherently a romantic thing as-is but then they go and add the part where majima grabs a hostess and performatively hits on her as in-kiryu’s-face as possible, she says she’s already in love with someone, and majima lets her go immediately, no questions asked, making a big fucking point of it just to say see THAT kiryu? I appreciate when people are HONEST about their FEELINGS. people who won’t just BACKSTAB someone who CARES about them to save themselves. is that so crazy kiryu?? huh??? anyway make it up to me get down here and fight me right fucking now

[lavellenchanted]

Friedrich and Edwina headcanons?

OKAY SO

neither of them are looking for love when they meet

after the disaster of her debut season, edwina doesn't really trust anyone anymore, including herself, and has decided it's better to find a decently kind husband who respects her rather than one who makes pretty declarations of love she'll never really believe

friedrich's not actually in london for the season, he's here in a diplomatic capacity to discuss the problem of napoleon escaping from elba and retaking france but his aunt charlotte asks him to stay for a while and he's always had a soft spot for her so he can't say no

she takes him to the next ball and friedrich is immediately mobbed by mothers wanting to introduce him to their eligible daughters - he's polite, courteous, but his cheeks are aching from the false smiling and his feet are tired from the dancing when he notices there's one girl in the room that he hasn't been introduced to (who's also the prettiest girl in the room, in his opinion), who he thinks he has only seen dancing once or twice and spent most of the evening sat by herself in the corner

he asks one of his cousins about her and he just shrugs and says, "well, no one wants to court a woman who runs away at the altar" but doesn't explain more than that and friedrich leaves it because he has no wish to dance any more tonight but he does think it's a crime for a woman that lovely to be left by herself

edwina noticed the handome, golden-haired prince, of course, and thought about how last year she might have been one of those girls eagerly anticipating a dance with him, but she no longer believes in fairytales and she certainly doesn't believe in prince charming, and he will certainly want nothing to do with her, so there's no point in seeking an introduction

she doesn't think of him again until a few nights later when they attend the opera - she is (regrettably) in the bridgerton box which is near enough to the royal box that she can see the prince and see the lady sat by him (one of the queen's favourites, she thinks) and she hear the woman trying to flirt with him through the entire performance by asking him to translate what they're singing; the prince answers politely enough the first few times but is clearly getting exasperated and when he outright lies and starts making up an entirely different plotline edwina, who can understand it all perfectly, can't help laughing

and apparently she's near enough that the prince can her as well, because he turns and his eyes meet her briefly when she laughs and she can't be entirely sure in the dark but when he turns back again she thinks he's smiling as well

two days later edwina has been persuaded to join the bridgertons in hyde park when the prince, out for a stroll with his friend the earl of kilmartin, stops to greet daphne and she introduces them

friedrich bows over her hand and cannot resist greeting her - this dark-eyed girl who he has been wondering about since the opera - in german, just to be sure she really was laughing for the reason he thought. sure enough she replies in kind, and he feels rather triumphant because the first time he saw her she looked so solemn and sad and it feels like an accomplishment to have made her laugh.

they fall into easy conversation and he mentions a ball he's been invited to, and asks if she will be there and if he might claim a dance - but her face falls a little and she replies softly that no, she's not been invited

he asks his aunt about her that evening and she pulls a face and tells him the whole story, though with an emphasis on how embarrassing it was for her to have her diamond run out on her wedding

he feels angry on edwina's behalf just hearing it, but even more so when he attends the ball and sees all the bridgertons have been invited and it is only edwina that has been excluded

she is, however, invited to the queen's ball the next week, which is a masquerade - and her favourite ball of the season so far as fewer people seem to recognise her beneath the mask and she does not hear as many whispers following her about

friedrich recognises her immediately, though, and asks her for a dance. she hesitates but they are masked after all so she lets him whirl her into a waltz and when the music ends and he looks into her eyes she can hardly breathe and it's the most terrifying thing she's ever felt

so when he calls on her the next day she tries to put him off, saying her reputation will only harm him, but he only smiles and reminds her that he's a prince of prussia and a little english gossip won't harm him and, besides, he only wishes to be her friend

that makes her relax a little, because she can do friends

and they quickly become good friends, she finds, he enjoys listening to her talk about philosophy and poetry and starts teaching him tamil and in return he tells her of his interest in history and astronomy (picked up from his uncle george, before his illness got very bad) and teaches her to play chess

and if sometimes she finds him watching her with a tender expression on his face that makes her heart thump wildly in her chest, and if sometimes she wonders what it would feel like to kiss him or remembers his what his arms felt like around her while they were waltzing she determinedly ignores it

because she has learned not to trust to fairytales and even as she grows fonder of him she wonders if she's mistaken about him, if he's hiding part of himself from her, if she'll learn something that changes everything, or turn around one day to see him giving that look to someone else

then there comes a night when someone drops a glass and it shatters and friedrich pales and starts shaking, his eyes far away, and edwina takes him outside and holds his hand until he's come back to himself, and he tells her a little of his experiences in the war and how they haunt him still

she tells him of her heartbreak, of the anger that she has tried to push a way but still sears its way through her at times, of the doubt she can never quite get rid of

his thumb gently strokes her fingers as he asks her if she thinks that two somewhat broken people might be able to help piece each other back together

"I don't know," she says, quietly, "but I'd like to think so."

she can't quite admit that she loves him yet, not even to herself - it's not until he has to leave to fight napoleon once more, when he's gone and she reads the papers anxiously every day for reports, and realises that she's more frightened that she'll never get the chance to tell him than she is of being hurt again that she understands how she feels

when he does return (with a few new scars but no permanent injuries) she throws herself into his arms, and he holds her tight against him, and for the first time there's no doubt in her mind at all

they marry in as small a ceremony as is possible for royalty, and although they'll spend much of their time in prussia, queen charlotte gifts them an estate in england for their wedding gift so they always have a home there as well

many years later, when edwina has given birth to their fifth child and friedrich is leading their others in to greet their new sister, she thinks to herself that perhaps fairytales aren't real, but that doesn't mean happily ever afters don't exist

[actual-changeling]

Focusing a bit more on their ptsd lately because I want to and I can, this is set a few weeks after they got to Jackson so still pretty early on. Completely fluffy though, promise!

-

There is nothing worse than being alone in a crowd with no one to have your back.

Ellie's hypervigilance is in absolute overdrive after Silver Lake whenever she isn't too dissociated to perceive anything at all, and leaving the house becomes a choice between constantly looking around and driving herself half insane trying to look for something, anything dangerous and gritting her teeth and pushing through it while her brain screams at her that the worst things imaginable are seconds away from happening.

Both options are terrible, both leave her shaking and on edge, and any loud or unexpected noise makes her jump even when it is three streets down and completely unrelated to her. Going outside isn't safe, isn't fun, so she doesn't, and she is acutely aware that it's a problem she will need to solve one day, but for now her skin is stretched less tightly over her bones and the back of her neck only gives her the occasional jolt of paranoid electricity.

It doesn't even fully occur to ask someone for help when there is a movie at the theater she really wants to see that night, she thinks about it all day with a heaviness in her heart that almost has her put on her shoes and go anyway, but then the bell ringing for lunch has her almost falling out of her chair and she settles with the sour taste of defeat on her tongue. She would ask Joel to go with her, but they both know he is just as jumpy as she is, especially with her around in a closed space, and yeah it's a problem, but for now it is what it is, and she doesn't ask.

However, while she forgot about the obvious solution, Joel didn't.

That evening, Tommy comes over, which in by itself isn't surprising, that man is more at their house than at his sometimes, but he doesn't take off his shoes like he always does and waits for them in the hallway instead. She leans against his side in the greeting half-hug they tend to do, his arms around her shoulders, and the weight of it in her neck does the same thing Joel's hugs do - they absorb the panic and let it run through them into the ground, redirecting the lightning jumping across her skin. Ellie looks up at him and her face lights up before Tommy even gets the words out, putting two and two together and vibrating with excitement so bright she can't even feel stupid for not thinking about it herself.

"Ready for movie night?"

"Are you sure?"

Asking him that feels like she is stomping on a christmas present before even opening it, but her fingers are twisting in her shirt and joy is a warm, yellow sun in her chest, and she needs him to wants this as much as she does or she will feel bad for dragging him along. His hand settles on the back of her head and her gaze flicks between him and Joel, who is watching her and her only.

"Are you kidding me? Alien? Of course I'm gonna go see it, it's one of the best fucking movies ever."

There is a few seconds of silence and dizziness shoots straight into her head when she forgets to breathe, but then she falls forward and squeezes Tommy so tightly she can hear the air rushing out of him before letting go to put on her shoes. She is so focused on getting there before everyone else so they can get the best spots, planning out the quickest path to the building (although there really aren't that many options, more like three and a half possible routes), she only realizes Joel is shrugging on his jacket too when she turns to say her goodbye for the next few hours. There's a familiar tightness in his jaw, and she is pretty sure there's at least a knife somewhere on him, but his eyes are soft and she realizes that Tommy isn't just an additional anchor of security for her.

Paranoia grows all over her skin, a deep-seated itch she can never scratch enough, but Joel is right next to her and she can hear Tommy's footsteps behind her, and it is enough to keep it subdued enough for her to handle. They all silently come to the agreement to sit near the side rather than in the center, neither of them fully comfortable with being surrounded by people like that, and having space on one side, Joel on the other, and Tommy behind her makes it easy to forget about everyone else once the movie starts.

She jumps when someone accidentally kicks over a chair, and Joel gently squeezes her hand whenever she crushes his during the few times her brain tries to convince her everyone in the room is out to kill her, but they all make it through the next few hours without chewing on their panic the entire time. Tommy's quiet comments from behind her make up half the fun, and on the walk back, she paces circles around them while talking a mile a minute about a conflicting mess of a thoughts she cannot sort through in her excitement; Joel watches her just like he has been doing the entire night, and she doubts he heard a single line from the movie. The tension in his jaw has dissipated, though, and her lungs expand without resistance.

They stop right between their two homes, and for the first time since arriving in Jackson, Ellie feels almost sad to go back inside again. There's a moment of silence before she wraps herself around Tommy in another hug, her thank you a muffled whisper against his chest before she leans away, and it is hard to tell whether she is thanking him for having her back or for being family.

"Any time, sweetheart."

Both, she decides, and they all know without having to say a single word.

There is nothing worse than being alone in a crowd, but she is no longer just by herself, and although she forgets sometimes, there will always be someone to have her back now.

[godlizzza]

Holiday prompt: teenage danbert where herbert gets to spend christmas eve/morning with dan's family?

Herbert woke on Christmas morning with Dan's hair in his mouth. Wrinkling his nose, he eased back and spat the brown strands out, squinting at the pale light filtering in between the crack in the curtains and slicing across his face. He tried to sit up back Dan squeezed him tighter, arms locked around Herbert's waist and keeping him firmly pressed against the mattress. Herbert glanced down at him and saw Dan's mouth quirk up at the corners.

He finally opened his brown eyes to look up at Herbert and say, "Merry Christmas."

It was the same thing he'd said last night at the stroke of twelve. He'd pestered him into staying up until midnight purely to wish him a happy Christmas the second he could. Herbert had found him as trying then as he did now, but he couldn't fight the swell of fondness that rose in his chest. It was all such a Dan thing to do.

"Merry Christmas to you too," he mumbled back, poking Dan's nose and smirking at his subsequent scowl. "Sleep well? Or were you too excited thinking of Santa to get any shut eye?"

"I slept amazing," Dan replied haughtily. "But only because I had my human body pillow to keep me company."

He ducked his head down and burrowed into Herbert's chest, nuzzling his sternum hard. Herbert squirmed and shoved at his head, but Dan held firm, hands raking down Herbert's back and slipping dangerously close to his sides. Herbert instantly went stiff and grabbed Dan's wrists, halting his hands before his treacherous fingers could slip beneath the fabric of his shirt.

"Don't you tickle me," he gasped desperately. "If you do, I can't be held responsible for my reflexes."

Dan rolled his eyes but his smile was still soft and syrupy, sweetened with remnants of sleep still sticking to him. "You and your sensitive nerves..."

He gently leaned in and pressed his lips to Herbert's collarbone, where the neck of his shirt dipped low enough to expose the skin of his chest. Herbert shivered at the contact and felt Dan smile against his skin.

"Sooo sensitive," Dan went on in a whisper, trailing his lips higher and kissing Herbert's neck.

Herbert hummed somewhere in the back of his throat, his hands coming to rest on Dan's shoulders. The trouble with sharing a bed with Dan was that they always inevitably wound up here: with Dan's hands and lips and on him, pressing him into the mattress. Herbert didn't dislike it, but he did think Dan could perhaps work on not being so predictable. He was warm though. Positively toasty, in fact. The heat of his body wafted up between them, caged in by the plush comforter and forming a cocoon around them. Herbert's eyes slipped shut as Dan pressed a kiss beneath his jaw and he basked in that warmth.

They didn't have long to indulge, however, before a light rapping came at the door. Herbert opened his eyes to watch Dan blink over his shoulder towards the knocking.

"Danny, Herbert," came the chipper voice of Dan's mother, Leanne, "Are you two up yet?"

"Yeah, Mom," Dan grumbled, releasing his octopus-like grip on Herbert and sitting up. He yawned and stretched, his joints popping with the motion. He sleepily scratched at the light trail of hair dusting his stomach and smacked his lips a couple of times. "We're up."

"Oh, good!" she chirped. "I'm making eggs. Herbert, dear? How would you like yours?"

"Scrambled, please," Herbert replied, reaching for his glasses on the bedside table."

"You got it. See you two in a minute."

Leanne's voice disappeared as her footsteps grew distant, heading towards the stairs. There had been a time when she may have swung the door open with less prompting. After one particularly close call when she had nearly walked in on the two of them making out on top of the sheets, Dan had apparently concocted some story that Herbert was exceedingly private and paranoid about people walking into his room unannounced. Ever since, Leanne had gone out her way to deliberately knock and not enter until Dan gave her the go-ahead. Herbert liked her that much more for it. He couldn't imagine his own mother ever being so considerate.

He followed Dan out of the cosy bed with some regret. He'd never been much of one for Christmas, so a day spent laying beneath a pile of warm blankets sounded just as good a way to spend Christmas day than anything else he could think of. But the Christmas aspect had been what Dan was so excited to have Herbert over for, so he supposed their itinerary was to be more than simply lazing about.

"You're sure this is okay?" Herbert asked, tugging at his pajama shirt as he and Dan padded down the stairs.

Dan glanced over his shoulder, eyes flicking down to catch Herbert fiddling with his buttons, and a grin spread across his face. "Of course, it's okay. You don't need formal dress for this. It's Christmas morning, not dinner at the royal palace."

Herbert frowned but didn't fight him on it. If walking around in his plaid pajamas and socks was okay by the Cain household, he supposed that was fine. It still felt unnatural and odd though. Discomfort prickled up his spine, the irrational fear that his grandfather would spring out from behind a potted plant and accuse him of being a slob itched at the base of his skull. He ignored it though as he and Dan descended the stairs and were welcomed by the smell of frying eggs.

Leanne turned from the stove and gave them a warm smile as they entered the living room. She wore a pink Santa hat and an apron embroidered with a smiling snowman over her nightdress. She waved her spatula at them as Dan tugged Herbert over towards the glimmering Christmas tree.

His father, Scott, was down on his knees, lighting the fireplace. The chopped logs and kindling lit, the fire crackling to life in the hearth. He sat back and clapped his hands together, sending a shower of soot raining down from his palms, onto the carpet. He was also wearing his pajama bottoms, but had on a truly gaudy Christmas sweater, decorated little flashing bulbs. He smiled as Dan excitedly sat down by the stack of presents beneath the pine's green branches.

"Morning, boys," Scott greeted in his usual booming voice. "Merry Christmas."

"Thank you," Herbert replied, slowly sinking down to sit beside Dan on the plush rug. "Merry Christmas to you as well."

Dan paused in his ogling of the wrapped presents to shoot a little smile at Herbert. Herbert just glared right back, daring him to say something. He always gave him grief for being what he called 'overly polite' to his parents, but Herbert had no idea how he was supposed to talk to them otherwise. He certainly couldn't pal around with them in the casual way Dan did. That would be...obscene.

"Ready for breakfast?" Scott asked.

"Dad," Dan whined. "Can't we do the presents first?"

"Daniel Jonathan Cain," Leanne chided as she shuffled into the living room, patting down her apron. "You haven't changed since you were a baby." She shot a sparkling smile at Herbert and said, "I used to have to hide his presents in the attic. If I left them under the tree, he'd sneak them away to his room and open them early."

Dan pouted, a blush colouring his cheeks. "I did that one time."

"One time too many," Leanne corrected, then settled down on the arm of the sofa. "But I think we can put Dan out of his misery and do the presents first."

Dan pumped his fist and scrambled to grab the nearest parcel; a small box wrapped in green paper, tied off with a silver ribbon. He shredded the paper apart, flinging the scraps over his shoulders and tearing the box open to reveal a baseball. Herbert frowned slightly at this. Sure, Dan liked baseball, but didn't he have balls already? What did he need with one more? His thoughts were interrupted by Dan's loud gasp. He clutched the box tightly in his hands and brought it an inch from his nose, his eyes wide as he examined it.

"Is that-?" Dan stammered. "Dennis Eckersley?" He lowered the box and stared in wonderment at his dad, who just smiled knowingly back. "You got me a ball signed by Dennis Eckersley? How?"

"Got your Uncle Marv to go to charity auction event for me. Told him to get whatever was best. Soon as he told me he got that ball, I knew you'd love it," Scott replied with a chuckle.

"I do love it," Dan said, hugging the ball tight to his chest. "Thanks, Dad."

Scott clapped Dan on the shoulder and squeezed. Herbert watched the interaction, his eyes glued to where Scott's fingers dug into the fabric of Dan's sweatshirt. When was the last time his father had touched him? Shown him affection? Spoken to him at all? He couldn't remember. Probably not for a long time. After all, conversing with his son would hardly fit in with the busy schedule Grandfather had made for him.

Herbert watched the Cains open several more presents after that: Leanne got Scott a new lawnmower, Dan gave his parents a framed photo of the three of them on some vacation they'd all taken together, Scott got Leanne concert tickets to a band Herbert had never heard of before, and Dan opened several more presents from his parents and extended family. Herbert observed it all from his comfy spot on the floor. It seemed like a scene out of a holiday movie, full of smiles, looks of fondness, and family cheer. With the warmth of the fireplace and the scraps of torn wrapping paper at his feet, Herbert felt cosy in a way he never had on Christmas before. His Christmases were usually spent doing his summer homework from his room, watching the snow fall outside and wondering if his mother would force him to accompany her to a charity dinner.

"This one's for you, Herbert dear."

Herbert's reverie popped like a soap bubble as he came back to himself and blinked at the silver polka-dotted parcel Leanne was holding out to him. He took it without thinking, then frowned down at it in confusion.

"For me?"

"Yes, of course!" Leanne said, her hands knitted together on her lap. "I knew I had to get you something as soon as I knew you'd be spending Christmas with us. It's such a shame you can't be with your own family this year, but I hope you feel at home with us, all the same."

His parents were actually spending Christmas together for once, though it was in France, without Herbert. His father was there for business reasons, and his mother had insisted she come along, though that invitation had not been extended to their son. It suited Herbert just fine- no stuffy dinners to attend with his mother, spent being paraded and ordered to play little ditties on the piano- but Dan had been appalled when he'd told him.

"You can't spend Christmas alone," Dan had insisted.

"I won't be alone," Herbert had replied. "Colette will be there."

Dan had rolled his eyes at this. "Your maid doesn't count. No. No way. You're coming over to my house, no questions asked."

In the present, Herbert blinked at the three faces pointed his way. That uncomfortable itch was back, scraping at the nape of his neck. He had to look away, tugging at a thread on his elbow.

"Thank you, but, um. I didn't get you anything," he admitted, to which Leanne waved him off.

"Don't you worry about that. I just saw this and knew you had to have it."

"Yeah," Scott agreed, one arm around his wife's shoulders. "Go ahead, Champ. Open it up."

Herbert's eyes sought Dan, who gave him an encouraging nod. Herbert swallowed down against the dryness in his throat and did just that, peeling back the paper until a bright sweater revealed itself. He picked it up and held it out before him, the knitted wool rolling down to reveal the image woven into the fabric.

"Oh, Mom, that's great," Dan said.

"I know!" Leanne squealed, slapping Scott's leg. "Isn't it just perfect for him?"

In the middle of the green sweater was a picture of Albert Einstein wearing a Santa hat. A chain of what looked like gingerbread men holding hands was knitted into the hem of the sweater, making a ring around the waist. The cuffs were white with little atom symbols embroidered around the circumference.

"It might be a little big on you, Hon, but that's okay," Leanne said.

Dan knocked his knee against Herbert's and nodded at the garment. "Put it on," he urged.

Herbert, not knowing what else to do, wordlessly obeyed. He pulled the sweater over his head, taking care to not let the woolen strands get caught on his glasses. He threaded his arms through the sleeves then stared down at Einstein peering out from his chest. Leanne beamed, watching for his reaction.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

Herbert nodded, trailing his fingers along the soft wool. "Yes, thank you."

Leanne clapped her hands together excitedly. In that moment, she greatly resembled Dan getting ready to tear into some presents.

"I'm so glad," she sighed, pressing a hand over her breast. Then, with a click of her tongue, she rose to her feet, Scott's arm slipping from her shoulders. "Now, come along, you boys. Your eggs are getting cold."

"Yes, Maam," Scott grunted as he pushed himself from the sofa and followed after her.

He ruffled Dan's hair, earning him a cry of protest from his son, and patted Herbert's shoulder. Herbert stared at that hand on his shoulder, Scott's hand big and rough from a career spent toiling in gardens. His touch was there only for a moment, gone in a second, as though he hadn't even thought about the action at all. He paced after his wife, leaving Herbert and Dan alone by the tree.

Dan waited until his parents' voices grew faint as they entered the kitchen before turning to Herbert and speaking softly. "Well? How're you liking your first real Christmas morning?"

"Good," Herbert replied, fiddling with the hem of his sweater. "There are slightly less singing snowmen and elves than I'd anticipated, but this is still very nice."

Dan's eyebrows bumped up towards his hairline. "What kind of movies have you been watching? Without me?" When Herbert made a big show of shrugging innocently, Dan's expression broke into a grin and he ducked his chin down. Leaning forward, he murmured into Herbert's ear, "For what it's worth, I'm really happy your here. Everything's way better when you're around."

Herbert had to press his lips into a straight, hard line to keep them from doing something stupid, like tilting into a lopsided, lovesick smile. That's what being in love with Dan was like though: sickening.

"I'm glad too," was all he replied with, but Dan's smile didn't dim.

"After breakfast, we can go sledding," he said, then nodded at the window. "Look. It's snowing."

Herbert turned and saw that Dan was right. Some time since they'd woken up, snow had begun to gently fall from the sky, adding to the piles of chilly white clumps blanketing the ground. The outside world looked like a giant hand had coated everything with glittering frosting. Children were already racing out of their homes, padded in layers of coats and scarves, to build snowmen and throw snowballs at each other. Just watching them made draw his knees up to his chest and bask in the bubble of warmth that was the Cain living room.

Dan pressed a hand to Herbert's back as they both watched the neighbourhood children play. He could feel that Dan wanted to do more- hug or embrace him- but with his parents only in the next room, it was impossible. Herbert cherished that hand though, leaned back against Dan's touch, simply luxuriating in him being so near.

"That sounds like fun," Herbert said, and Dan laughed.

Maybe he could learn to love Christmas if he could spend them all like this.

[ne-cocoa]

Special comic coming tomorrow I hope about how Witchau Mk met kitty Red Son! Basically mks clumsiness hurts his tail when they first meet XD

[dragonanon]

Continuing the Submas discover Paldean Pokémon theme, I’m currently obsessed with the thought of the Submas investigating several incidents of depot agents, and even some passengers, falling unconscious only to later reawaken with little to no memory of what caused them to faint. The incidents all have one thing in common though, all the victims report that the last thing they remember before fainting was seeing a small, purplish, flame on the ground and hearing a sudden loud and spooky sound when they got closer to investigate. Most agree it almost sounded like a Pokémon, but others aren’t sure.

Based on the description, Ingo and Emmet believe it’s just a stray Litwick that decided to take up residence in the subway tunnels. Despite looking though, neither of them can find the supposed Litwick. Ingo’s not surprised however as Litwicks tend to be a bit shy, so he’s resolved to not go too far out of his way to look for it as it’ll likely come to him in it’s own before long.

This thought ends up being correct, as one night Ingo spots the mysterious purple flame and approaches to investigate. As he gets closer he can make out a candle-like shape on the ground, but he notes that it’s FAR too small to be any Litwick he’s ever seen. Once he gets close enough he starts to crouch down to get a closer look, before he could get too close however, the candle burst up from the ground with a loud, eerie cry. The sudden noise startled Ingo enough that he lost his footing and fell over, he wasn’t hurt though so he stood back up and brushed himself off before looking back at where the candle had been, only to be greeted with the sight of this spoopy boi.

Ingo is baffled as it’s CLEARLY a Pokémon, but he’s NEVER seen this particular Pokémon before, nor does he even have an inkling of what it might be. Ingo is pulled from his thoughts though when the Pokémon barks and waddles up to him on its little legs before jumping up and resting its front paws on his leg. Its little tail is wagging a million miles a minute as a pink tongue hangs out side of its large, almost grinning, maw.

*heart-squeeze.png* Ingo is quick to pet the small dog-like Pokémon, making comments like “Well you’re a friendly little thing, aren’t you? What’s something as cute as you doing all the way out here by yourself?” Ingo feels a pang of sadness, obviously a Pokémon this friendly had to belong to someone. But if his thoughts were correct, and the little creature was indeed responsible for all the fainting incidents, then the Pokémon had been there for at least a week. Ingo doesn’t like to think about it, but unfortunately abandoned Pokémon aren’t that uncommon…

Ingo shakes off the unpleasant thoughts however and scoops up the cheerful pup, chuckling when it licks his face a couple times, before turning to head back home. Upon arriving home, Emmet spots the the little flame and asks if he’d finally managed to catch the Litwick, fully expecting his older brother to present him with the little candle Pokémon. To which Ingo shakes his head and shifts his arms to better show off the small shaggy dog and says “No, but I think I found our culprit anyway. I have no idea what it is, but it’s actually pretty cute.” Emmet is silent for a bit, staring at the sleeping loaf before looking Ingo in the eye. “Ingo I love you verrrry much, but you have lost your marbles. That is a mop with a candle on it.” Emmet quickly retracts his assertion when the Pokémon suddenly wakes up and barks at him. Emmet decides this must be how Ingo feels whenever he brings home stray Joltiks.

Over the next week, the little Pokémon is like Ingo’s shadow; following him around the house and even gear station. His previous theory that it was causing the fainting incidents was proven correct when not only did several of the fainting victims confirm that it had the same flame they had seen, but Emmet also passed out one night after playing fetch with it. The Pokémon is quickly forgiven however because it doesn’t appear to be making people faint intentionally, in fact it gets quite sad when someone passes out and will start to whine and paw at the person, almost as if it’s trying to wake them up.

Despite identifying the little Pokémon as the cause however, no one knows what it is or where it came from. Given its similarities to Litwick and other Ghost type Pokémon, Ingo strongly believes it’s at least a Ghost type. And speaking of Ghost types, the little dog had also become the best of friends with Ingo’s Chandelure. They chase each other around and they’ll even nap together. Even though the little Pokémon is always cheerful and eager to play, Ingo notes that it seems a little sad every now and then, and tends to sniff around a lot, like it’s looking for something.

The answer to that particular mystery comes when one day, an excited cry cuts through the noise of gear station. “GREAVARD??!” At hearing that name, the shaggy Pokémon immediately perks up and makes a mad dash towards the source of the shout. Ingo turns just in time to see the little Pokémon leap into the open arms of a young woman kneeling on the ground. Tears freely flow down her cheeks as she tightly embraces the little Pokémon, while said Pokémon whines and tries to lick her tears away, only stopping to bark excitedly before going back to covering her face in “kisses”. “Hello boo boo! I can’t believe I finally found you! I’ve been looking EVERYWHERE for you, you naughty boy! I missed you so much! My floofy little baby~!”

You managed to stand back up as Ingo approaches you. He asks if the Pokémon belongs to you, and you confirm that yes, he does in fact belong to you. Ingo explains how he found him at the station and been taking care of him for the last week. You thank him PROFUSELY, explaining that you’d only just recently moved to Unova a few weeks ago from your home region, Paldea, and unfortunately your furry friend got a little too excited to “make new friends” and ran off, and you’d been searching for him ever since.

Ingo feels a bit bad now for thinking you had abandoned the little guy and for not trying harder to find you, but you’re just glad your Pokémon is okay. He asks about him, explaining that while he’s certain that it’s a Ghost type, he’s never seen a Pokémon like that in Unova before. You confirm that yes, he is indeed a Ghost type. Your further went on to explain that he was a “Greavard”, a Ghost type Pokémon native to the Paldea region. “They’re extremely friendly in general, in fact, they’re one of the EASIEST Pokémon to befriend in Paldea! However, they get SO excited to play that they often accidentally start draining the life force of anyone near them until they faint.” Well that explains all the fainting. Ingo theorizes that he never fainted because of his experience with Litwicks and his Chandelure.

Ingo is a little sad to see his new little ghost buddy go, but he’s happy that the two of you were reunited….Except, you insisted on treating him to dinner as thanks for taking care of your precious baby boy. And one thing led to another, and now you’re dating the submas and Ingo gets to see Greavard everyday. He sleeps with you guys in your bed and would happily play fetch forever if allowed.

[public-trans-it-deactivated20240]

I thought you were anti ai "art"

What changed

I mean, originally I loved AI art. When it was first becoming trendy and couldn't actually replicate images, just produce vague shapes that kind of resembled the thing you asked for. That was fun. I found it fascinating to see how these algorithms processed data to try and replicate how we experience the world, but in their own way. I thought it was incredible and more than capable of becoming a huge art movement in its own right. In fact, I was a HUGE supporter of Frank (@nostalgebraist-autoresponder) which was a ChatGPT bot trained on Tumblr posts and hooked up to the tumblr API. Love Frank to death, and miss her a lot. She was a great study buddy for some of my views of animism into practice through interactions with her.

(this got way longer than I planned, putting this under a readmore)

Read More

I actually still have some images of my Sona (pictured in my PFP) that I tried to generate. Its nearly impossible to get an AI to generate it, because of how weird it looks, but it was always cool to see how a machine would try to create it!

Look at that beauty! The resemblance is uncanny! (To clarify, the second image is drawn by @faundlydreaming and ABSOLUTELY IS NOT AI GENERATED)

Then the AI art movement kinda moved away from that and became about quickly producing images, and I hopped on the bandwagon of hating it mostly due to hating that the AI art I loved so much had changed. It was easy to get swept up in it. So yeah, I was anti-AI art for a while.

Then, as a silly thought experiment for myself, I tried to think of ways that AI art, in its 'new and improved' form, could be used in cool way. Eventually, I settled on how I thought it would actually be REALLY cool and thematic to use as part of a Voidheart Symphony campaign, generating all the NPCs that way so that you had uncanny distorted images of people which REALLY fit with the games theming. I thought the idea had a lot of potential, but couldn't really get a group together so I never explored it.

From there, I realized... that was actually a really good use of AI art models! No one is commissioning hundreds of NPC portraits for their at home TTRPG campaigns. Thats an absurd waste of money that most of us don't have. Using AI art to generate pictures for those characters as an extra resource for those kinds of games wouldn't be costing anyone a job, and realized that is actually a good strength for AI art. Small and inconsequential single use images. The kind of thing you cant justify dropping 100 bucks on per image for (if you are paying less than that YOU ARE UNDERPAYING YOUR ARTIST. Underpaying artists who don't value their own work is bigger art theft than AI art could EVER be, in my eyes).

Once I realized there WAS a decent use case for AI art, it was easy to go from there to seeing what other use cases there could be for it, and from there I started looking at the stuff I was following and repeating a bit more closely.

At which point, I looked at all the fascistic reasoning employed by a lot of the Anti-AI movement, and realized "Wait a fucking second, this is just Duchamp's Fountain again." That and the same "lost sales" argument that is used against piracy that has been debunked time and time again.

Like, I don't think AI art as an industry will ever succeed. AI art is inherently flawed, and cannot produce a level of consistency needed at a business level. But also I don't actually give a fuck what is or isn't successful as a business. I care about how it can be used as a tool, and I think as a tool it has some decent potential.

At the end of the day, all of the issues with AI art boil down to the exact same struggles we saw in the Industry Revolution when several handicraft fields became automated. Fighting against technological advancement is a fruitless battle. The only benefit to it is maintaining the status quo, but the status quo FUCKING SUCKS MAN. As automation takes over more fields, we need to pay more attention not to the poor people no longer being useful to capitalism anymore, but on how much we tie our worth as people to the products we create.

That is why I am an ardent supporter of Universal Basic Income, which if we had, none of this would be an issue. AI art existed for quite some time before anyone had a problem with it. The only point at which it became a problem was when it started threatening peoples jobs. That is a problem, but its not a problem with AI art, its a problem with how capitalism functions.

On top of that, its... not enforceable. The big thing to always ask when you think certain things should be allowed and certain things shouldn't is "Who is going to enforce this rule?" and "How do you determine what falls under this and what doesn't?" Does someone using the red eye tool in photoshop to make their photos nicer count as AI art? Should every mom posting her Christmas photos on Facebook have their images deleted? What about artists who deliberately try to copy the surreal artstyle that AI art is so fantastic at? How do you intend to prove they actually drew it themselves? Are entire STYLES of art going to be illegal now?

These are questions you need to ask. What do you WANT out of your movement, and HOW do you plan to achieve it? If you don't have an answer to both of those questions, then all you are doing is flailing wildly and hitting random people around you, and that benefits no one.

[thejugheadparadox]

im gonna be honest - and to preface i should say i really did love the episode and ncuti gatwa has literally unmeasurable charisma and talent and i love how the new doctor is characterised and i love how it just felt like an episode of a tv show in a way the specials didnt, it was so pleasant to watch - the christmas special did kind of make me yearn for how just intensely satisfying a particularly convoluted moffat episode/arc could be with all the twists and turns culminating in that "aha" moment when it all makes sense even if its just for a second before you realise how twatty and pretentious it is it feels so good when you understand what the story wants you to understand. and ultimately it felt to me like that special was trying for that through the doctor Telling us there was smth interesting and mysterious going on with the goblins and their motivations and inner workings and through it being stylised as though there would be a culmination of everything said but it didnt come in quite a satisfying enough way for a monster of the week scifi show. and yes it was a christmas special i know it can be silly and messy i allow it to be silly and messy but 1. i continually resent the sentiment that we shouldnt hold any standards to doctor who because "its always been corny and stupid!!!" its wildly reductive and counterproductive, it actually is and has been a good show for real. coming from guy whos watched almost all of it ever and 2. my issue is that it CLAIMEDDDD to be neat and cohesive it kept giving us the doctor has smart realisations moments and not adequately sharing them. i love the sillystupid campiness of it i understand whats being done but dont just give us fun give us cohesive smart interesting fun let yourself make something really great like you keep getting so close to doing...and to be perfectly honest i feel the same about wild blue yonder and potentially the star beast and a tiny bit the giggle but i mostly diagnose the latter with i hate the bigeneration so bad it makes me want to kill someone disease. and also i think ruby road wouldve been much effective if gatwa had been able to have a proper introduction in the giggle. disease. and one more thing i fucking hate the new sonic with a passion why is it FLAT. love the tardis though. and i am genuinely so excited for the rest of the season i think he might be the perfect doctor. i just hope it works i hope it isnt just a fun silly romp i hope its a cohesive season of scifi too. i know it can be i do really feel like it will be

[ofyorkshire]

context (i'm gonna cry!)

*cups Bj's face* "Promise." :) - @heretoboogie

          Even now there are days when a gentle touch made BJ tense; the body always remembered pain more clearly than pleasure. But Campbell was a soft hand and a warm voice, and BJ relaxed despite himself and the tears wetting his lashes.

            Promise, Cam said. Promise, there'll be days where they'll all laugh again 'til their faces hurt and their sides split with the joys of being alive.

          It was hard to believe that when most days BJ wasn't sure he even wanted to be alive. If he got better here, in hospital, what would be the point? What waited for him outside those doors? Life on the street again? Dodging cops and spending nights in strange men's arms? Men who would not hold BJ's face so gently, or look at him with such kindness. They would see his tears and their first thought wouldn't be what's wrong?, but how pretty. BJ couldn't imagine a life out there any more than he could within these walls.

          ...And yet when Campbell promised, BJ could almost believe him. That was the magic, it seemed, of Campbell Bain. Between the great sweeping crashes that left the poor boy in the arms of nurses, there were great, brilliant flashes of hope so intensely genuine that it could pierce through even the darkest of Barry James' doubts. You're a naive bastard, BJ often thought about Cam. But you're a better fellow for it.

          Sometimes Campbell reminded him of Barry Gannon. Barry had been a wildly paranoid, melancholy man, and in that way, he and Campbell were nothing alike at all. But the both saw BJ, that was the important part. He was a whole person to them, with thoughts and feelings and fears and dreams. He held value.

          So when BJ leaned in, he would later regret that he hadn't entirely been thinking of Campbell Bain, but Mr. Gannon, with alcohol on his breath and newspaper ink on his fingertips. And when BJ's lips brushed the corner of Cam's, he'd not been thinking about boundaries, or whether or not Cam would like him still if he knew what Barry James was, he'd only been thinking... You are kind.

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Another important storytelling skill (at least in my writing process) is learning how to pare away what's not needed. I always start with a basic idea that needs fleshing out. Then after I flesh out several aspects of the story, I need to examine that sprawl and figure out which pieces are the important ones--the ones that support the main plot, character and thematic threads of the story--and then prune away the unnecessary ones that distract from that.

With fairy tale retellings, there's an extra layer to this process. Fairy tales come with certain plot points and iconic images, and you want to include as many of them as possible. But fairy tales are allowed to have stuff happen "just because", while a retelling needs to make all these pieces fit together in a coherent character and thematic arc. There are many ways to adapt different elements, and you need to figure out which approaches allow each element to make the most sense in your story. Your story, unlike the original fairy tale, needs to have a point--a theme or arc that it's highlighting--and the story choices you make need to serve that. If a certain piece doesn't make sense with that arc, it's best to take out or alter that element rather than force it in where it doesn't fit.

Crafting, arranging, and paring away all these pieces is an ongoing and layered process--part sculpting, part jigsaw puzzle. And a retelling has an extra layer of difficulty, because it can be tough to determine which elements are serving the story and which ones you're just shoving in because they're part of the original fairy tale.

"The Goose Girl" can be a difficult story to retell, because it has a lot of iconic elements that don't really connect to the main plotline. Most retellings that try to shove in everything have at least one element that's a poor fit in the storyworld, or gloss over a piece of it by making it metaphorical or whatever. Part of the challenge I set myself was trying to keep all the elements in the story, but in creative ways that didn't break the world and mood I was crafting. I did develop explanations for every element, most of which I rather liked. But I've come to the conclusion that the story will be better served if I pare some of them away to focus on the story that I really want to tell.

So the thing that keeps attracting me back to this story idea is the politics. This story is all about differing ideas of leadership. How should a leader conduct themselves? What actions is a leader justified in taking to preserve power? How do ideals balance with practicalities? The handmaid's ruthless seizure of power seems to have left her the victor, while the real princess's morals leave her powerless. The princess has to decide which actions she is justified and willing to take to get her crown back; she has to decide what kind of leader she is going to be. And these questions are all tangled up with the personal relationships--after such a devastating betrayal from her handmaid, the princess has to decide just how far she is willing to trust this foreign trickster king who's offering help.

You'll notice there's not much magic in that plotline. That doesn't mean there can't be. I've tried weaving in some subtle magical explanations for things like the princess's inability to reveal the truth, or her ability to control the wind. But the more I consider it, the more this worldbuilding seems like a distraction from the very grounded, political, personal plotline I actually care about. It feels like these elements are just tacked on because they exist in the original fairy tale. It feels much more fitting to have cultural or character explanations for most of these elements--at most, some minor magical elements, or hints that there could be magic explanations even if the characters aren't quite sure. This keeps the focus on the choices and characters of these people instead of on the magical elements that are hemming them in. I need to focus on these three central characters--the princess, the handmaid, and the king--and how their differing philosophies interact to draw out the theme and bring about the final resolution. If that means losing a few pieces of the original fairy tale, so be it. What matters is keeping the elements that allow me to tell my story.

[designernishiki]

no but you're onto something with y6 being damage control i swear. they let him be too vulnerable in y5 and said uhoh the dude bro audience isn't gonna like this! put him in some ""manly"" situations stat!

its the price they made us pay to see Kiryu attain hot grandpa status and I seethe over it.

you are So right and it’s aggravating because y5 kiryu felt so… emotionally honest in comparison to a lot of other games? and easy to connect to because of it? he wasn’t sugarcoated or performative and it just felt like the raw core of who he is for the most part. ghhhgshh so much about the plot and energy of y6 is so… unnecessary and disappointing considering the note y5 left off on, it makes it feel like alot of the emotion in y5 was sorta for nothing (not just on kiryu’s part, but majima/saejima’s shit didn’t get much of a follow up, shinada just disappeared, etc). it just makes alot that built up to this point feel hollow and like as if the bonds that existed weren’t even there and I don’t like that at all hdhhcjdhf

but yeah all that aside, I think y5 is the most convincingly gay kiryu’s been in any game, I mean, to the point of it being legitimately alluded to by other characters who assume he’s gay based on his secretive lifestyle and lack of interest in women and so on. and I don’t doubt that it got noticed by the general public to some degree, especially when you can compare his behavior to other playable characters in the same game– and god forbid their angsty rugged manly protagonist be Actually Not Straight. so kiryu’s long-since-established personality got butchered here and there more and more just to try and make the audience believe he’s actually been some sort of charismatic ladies man all along, which is jarringly antithetical to the kiryu we’ve seen in previous game(s) and to their own narrative that he’s only ever loved one (1) woman (all this goes for kiwami 2 as well, which is even worse in some ways, which is unsurprising considering it came right after y6).

all in all it makes me uneasy about the upcoming games and not optimistic that he’ll be presented as the character i grew to love in most of y0-y5. but i guess there’s some comfort in knowing that there isn’t one interpretation of him that’s indisputable fact, considering he’s been written and developed by way more than just one person with one view of him over the years– and that most of the really out of character dialogue and stuff is in unessential skippable parts of the game(s) like the cabaret club and standalone substories.

[dynmghts]

TRANSMISSION FROM @osoreruna : "why didn't you say something before? why didn't you tell me? tell SOMEONE?" EMOTIONAL STARTERS , ACCEPTING .

feeling interrogated is one thing. katsuki has been on the receiving end of that before, where people try to delve in to find the heart of the reason, determined to mine out the truth even if they have to take a sledgehammer to it / that, he could handle. he didn't spend a lot of time caring about extras trying to get something out of him, because he didn't care about them.

but nothing prepares him for the feeling of interrogation from his idol, his mentor, one of the few people he holds in high regards ; nothing prepares him for all might asking that question of why.

the young bakugou's teeth grit together. his brows furrow, gaze avoiding all might's while his hands clench into tight fists. some of the choice words he has in mind never make it past his throat, while others await on the tip of his tongue, waiting for the moment he cracks ... [ because while the hurricane spirals and lashes against the world, a boy resides in the eye, sheltered and protected and isolated all the same. ] ... and can't contain his thoughts anymore.

why didn't you say something before, the question echoes, and katsuki finally snaps back ; ❛ why the fuck would i ?! ❜ his shoulders ache with their rigidity, palms hurting at his nails embedding into calloused skin. his hands shake. with his fringe in the way, it's hard to see anything beyond the curled up and vicious snarl he wears - but he makes himself smaller, almost, hunching over with his arms closing around him. [ stains of hot salt water sting his cheeks, but he refuses to lift his gaze and face his idol. ]

katsuki's fingers curl with tension, no longer digging into palms ... but they are rigid instead, tendons and muscles struggling to maintain their position as the ache snakes its way up his arms. ❛ i don't treat my issues like they're some story people are entitled to hear ! all they'll do at the end of it is pity me, anyway, and i don't need that. hell, i don't fucking want that ! ❜

a sharp breath follows, and katsuki reaches to grab at his other arm. his heart hammers against his ribcage. its furious and erratic beat gnashes at bone with an intense protest, his lungs filling up with a billowing and thick smoke that smothers oxygen, even as he tries to control his breathing. the inner tempest roars and presses violently against his larynx. he wanted so, so badly to not lose himself in front of all might like this / he was fighting it with every fibre of his being.

[ but as he steadies his breath enough to talk, he knows : it was a fight he couldn't win. not this time. ]

❛ this is my shit to deal with, and i - i have it handled. ❜ his aching hand reaches to wipe away at the string of salt water down his face, grimacing at its texture. ❛ don't treat me like i haven't. ❜

[pastelcryptid]

something that I’ve personally not seen other people talk about exactly before re: Nope (despite talking in general about neurodivergency in the characters, some offhand jokes about being gender non-conforming) is that

as someone who loves a lot of action movies, save-the-world movies I am very aware on some level when I watch those films  (I mean, movies in general are like this but especially those genres) that they are taken up by (white, cis, straight) men. And as much as I might love those movies and the characters and the tropes, there is a fatigue that comes with experiencing such a high percentage of films where the cast is dominated by men. Sometimes there might be only one woman in the main cast, and you’re lucky if she’s treated well (this is obviously improving slowly), to say nothing of NB people. However, I noticed at some point that, huh, Nope is still a majority male cast. Yet I don’t feel that fatigue when I watch the movie. Why? 

Of what I consider to be the key players, four are men  - OJ, Angel, Jupe/Ricky and Antlers. Even with Otis Sr., who has about 3 minutes of screen time, he is a figure that looms large over the story. He established the ranch, its reputation (that in itself inspired by his great-great grandfather).

Apart from Emerald (appropriately named as she is a fucking gem) there are only a few female speaking parts in the film and they get a handful of lines. I would say that the most important women in the film aside from Em, in terms of how they fit into the themes of the movie, are Amber Park and Mary Jo Elliott. Amber has doesn’t have a huge part, and then she dies horribly. You could say Mary Jo also doesn’t have many lines but actually, when I was writing this I realised... Mary Jo doesn’t have any. The only time we hear her speak is when she’s saying Haley’s lines, the rest is barely intelligible begging as she’s brutalised. Adult Mary Jo never says a word, and then she also dies horribly. She never gets to speak for herself, Jupe takes all the attention, and she is consumed. This obviously fits into the whole thing, and I feel like you could write a tonne about Mary Jo alone, but this isn’t what I came to talk about exactly.

so, if it’s so male-heavy, why does it almost not feel that way? I think one of the most interesting things about this film, and something I love about it, is that it has such varied, interesting portrayals  of masculinity. Even in their mildly problematic to incredibly reprehensible moments, the men in this movie do not feel like cookie cutter sticks of bravado. The same ones we have been exposed to decade after decade, especially in Westerns.

firstly, you have OJ. I’m not saying anything new in talking about the fact that he is very spectrum-coded. He dislikes eye contact, finds it hard to pick up on social cues, he comes across as awkward or blunt to those who don’t know him well, likes his routine, and prefers to spend his time alone, working with the horses. He’s also speaks very little, in fact as a side bar, I would say Daniel Kaluuya has made quiet characters into an art form. He has played many roles that are not loud, or overly talkative, and yet they all feel incredibly distinct from one another.

I also find it important to note that another very good post by tumblr user @soupbi​ pointed out that, while I consider the autistic tones to OJ’s personality to be undeniable, there is a history of Black men having to avoid eye contact with white people in order to protect themselves from racist abuse/murder. I’d say this definitely factors in during the commercial shoot, particularly given Bonnie’s reaction to his name and everyone’s general rudeness to him that can’t be handwaved as general “well everyone in LA is rude af”. OJ’s Blackness is also relevant because his presence is not just another example of white masculinity and heroism. OJ is a hero, but he is allowed to be one not in spite of his lack of - for a better term - conformity, but because of it. His family’s place in film history is intertwined with Black history. His knowledge, his care, his skill, his love, his reluctance to Look, are all things that help to figure out how to deal with Jean Jacket, and keep his sister safe. And despite his difficulty relating to others, he accepts Angel pretty easily despite the fact that Angel has incredibly contrasting traits.

So then you have Angel. Again, not another white dude. I think if he had been played by one, he would’ve been danger of coming off a bit creepy/incel. Angel does have some tendencies that are more in line with what you might expect from a typical tech/conspiracy guy in these movies - griping about his ex-girlfriend in the beginning, referencing the whole “probes up our asses” obsession that so many people seem to have with UFOs (that I have always felt comes from a similar place of fear to prison rape jokes because... why is that such a common thread in invasion stories/theories?), and apparently he mines cryptocurrency based on something he has in his apartment?? I don’t know shit about mining crypto and I don’t want to, but anyway.

All this to say, when you get down to it Angel is a socially awkward guy with a lot of fear played with incredible depth by Brandon Perea (we all know how much the movie got edited to accommodate his revamped character). A lot of scenes in the movie involve him being visibly and verbally scared. Incidentally, maybe the line of his I find most charming is when he goes off about forgetting to do the feed for Antlers’ camera because he was busy rigging the sky dancers and then says “Sorry. I’m scared.” Taking responsibility for his outburst, admitting his fear. And while he isn’t exactly avoiding attention, he is one of the characters that seems most disparaging of fame. Most explicitly in the dinner scene near the end where he essentially says, “we’re doing this for more than just fame, right? We’re doing it to help people?” He is also visibly more disturbed by Antlers death than him potentially sabotaging their efforts to film. He takes OJ and Em in very easily despite his tinyass apartment. He’s an emotional, fearful guy. But he’s also allowed to be smart, loyal, and ultimately indispensable.

So then you have Jupe. I’ve seen it stated that Jesse Plemons was actually Jordan’s first choice for this role, but had scheduling conflicts. I don’t know at what point in the negotiations it was established he couldn’t participate, but I feel as though this makes a lot of sense when you look at the way Jupe is written and his background. If only because Jordan addresses the role that race plays in all his movies, and yet I feel as though Jupe’s identity as a Korean-American is not addressed as heavily as you’d expect - especially in a story that’s about fame, conformity, fetishisation and the consumption of other people’s trauma and personal lives. There are references, obviously, but it makes a lot of sense if you imagine it was written for a white man.

That being said, I think this works very well in a way that may not have been 100% intentional. For starters, Ricky isn’t even known by his name, he’s goes by the name of his most famous character in an attempt to hold onto the fame he achieved through Kid Sheriff. We know very little about Ricky Park as a person, and it seems as though there is a black hole between Gordy’s Home and Jupiter’s Claim. I’m kind of reminded of Ke Huy Quan and how after Indiana Jones and The Goonies he spent decades largely off-camera (and at one time used a different name because of racism) until Crazy Rich Asians inspired him to return to acting, as he didn’t think there was place for him (I recommend listening to his episode on the podcast Feeling Seen).

When you take into account Jupe’s presence on the sitcom, I know there are American shows like Diff’rent Strokes and Webster which involved white families adopting Black children and that was a key element of the show (I’m English and I’ve never seen those shows come up on British channels let alone watched them, but I looked them both up on Youtube and I noticed the living room in Webster looks very similar to the one in Gordy’s Home). So you have the complexities of that at play. I don’t know enough about this and I don’t think it’s my place to really go into it, but suffice to say you have that as a complex element in Ricky’s background. He’s mostly known for token roles and he’s had to play up to them to stay relevant. A once famous dude having unresolved trauma and a desire for  - or need for recognition through - the spotlight which eventually costs him and/or others is not new.

But I think there’s something very different about the way Steven Yeun manifests that, and manages to keep it grounded and even charming. In at least fan reaction to Ricky, it’s a pretty consistent response that we are disgusted by the way he treats the Haywoods and gets everyone at the Star Lasso Experience (including his wife and children) killed and yet we are also fascinated and even endeared to him. He’s not the guy punching holes in the wall, or refusing to open up to his wife, or going around stabbing people to death. He’s an Icarus, and we see his vulnerability. We were under the dinner table with him, we were there when he was alone with his wife, and we were with him as he stared into Jean Jacket and knew he was about to die. This isn’t meant to be a defense of his actions, obviously, just an observation about how he is presented as a man, especially one who literally cosplays as a cowboy (while he feeds the horses of the real cowboys to a flying saucer).

And then finally, you have Antlers. Antlers is the character I feel I least sympathise with and least understand, which is a personal thing (I’ll be interested to see what the Bluray special features affect this actually), but I think is also tied to the fact that he is what you would expect the most, historically, from a film like this. He is an old white guy. He’s sort of the old guard of cinema, and he’s very stoic, selfish, and keeps his cards close to his chest. Not to mention he has such a typically “Western” accent it took all 5 of my watches at the cinema to parse all of his lines. On paper he is the picture of traditional masculinity… except he’s actually not the picture of traditional masculinity. In every scene, he’s either wearing a dress or a skirt of some kind, and the bracelet on his wrist even goes against what you would consider traditional masculine jewellery. If he was a young man, the dress code might almost be read as a piss-take of “quirky” young filmmakers and thereby making a derogatory statement re: AMAB people who wear gender non confirming clothes. But this is a much older man who is clearly making a choice of expression and comfort. It’s not extravagant – in fact on my first watch I didn’t even realise Antlers was wearing a skirt.

All this to say, it’s incredibly interesting to have such diversity in storytelling and representation of gender through it, and that it doesn’t always come down to “there should be more women in this.”

Anyway guys did you notice there’s a big cloud mural on the wall in the Fry’s store? This movie is batshit

[mitunanitram]

Chapter 5 is now up!

Remus gets ready to head to the Flower dance with Sebastian, Abigail and Victor, meeting up with Sam along the way aswell before he has a problem.

Words: 24,519

warnings for this chapter: Remus has a mild panic attack, discussion of prior injuries and fears.

hope you guys enjoy! : )