#and heres the thing. both of these could work with my current theme colors

[kalmeria]

sophia and neo navigation cards. if you care

[dceasesd]

why juni ba’s the boy wonder has my favorite jason characterization of any contemporary comic run: a needlessly in-depth analysis (pt.3)

go check out part 1 and part 2 if you'd like! this is a long one, sorry guys.

if you haven't already i'd recommend you check out pt. 1 & pt. 2 (linked above), but if you haven't checked them out i've been going over some of the main things people have been criticizing ba's characterization for: 1. the typical boiling down of jason's character to "the angry one" 2. his lack of strategy going into the fight with the demon is out-of-character 3. the neighbor's kid interaction

alright, so this last point is purely based off of one page of the entire comic: the one where the child of one of jason's neighbors is dragged inside his home when his mother see's jason coming.

first off, i love this page. it might be my favorite page in the entire issue. everything about it is great. just thought i needed to say that.

anyway, there's some people who are seeing this page and reading it as "jason protects kids! that's one of his big things! why are they scared of him?"

here's the thing, though: the kid isn't scared of jason, the mom is. the kid is literally playing dress up as the red hood-- he's not scared of jason, if anything he's trying to replicate him. little kids dress up as their heroes all the time; why is this kid any different? it doesn't really make sense for the kid to dress up of something he's scared of (not everyone is as weird bruce wayne), especially a real person that could be a real threat rather than a concept. i doubt you see many kids in gotham dressing up as the joker or something, because that's just asking for trouble.

the dress-up honestly seems like a ploy for attention to me. the kid clearly knows that red hood lives in his building (which is honestly so funny. take off the mask jason you're giving you're position away (actually this is a really good instance for analysis but i'm determined to not go on a tangent)). if the kid knows red hood lives in his building, what better way to get his attention that dressing up as him and playing pretend? if the kid was scared of him, he wouldn't want to draw that sort of attention to himself. if he had a sort of hero-worshippy thing going on like i suspect, then he would want to get jason's attention. to sum it up,

it's the mom who pulls him away when jason nears, because she either a) perceives him as a threat, b) doesn't want her kid to try and replicate him even more, or, the most likely option, both! the kid isn't scared of him, but the mother believes they should be.

once again, we come back to the whole perception vs. reality theme i talked about in part one! we've come full circle, everyone!

when looking at the neighborhood's perspective of the red hood, ba gives us a few contradictory examples. there's the kid and the mother, obviously, but there's also a slew of other citizens who interact with him at the beginning of the issue, both in fear and camaraderie.

the unhoused man and the people outside of his building clearly have a familiarity and are comfortable with him, while the shopkeeper is terrified and literally has a banned poster on his wall featuring jason (i am so curious what he did to deserve that, if he even did anything at all). from this, it appears that jason's reputation teeters between fearful and familiar-- a sentiment that also colors jason's relationship with his family.

furthermore, this concept underscores just how lonely jason is-- one of the only good relationships he had in his current life was his fucking landlord, for gods sake, and he's dead.

i think it's important to note that jason doesn't respond to the friendly greetings from the men-- he could attempt to build camaraderie, the roots are there, but he chooses not to. he could work to try and show the mother that her son is safe with him, but he chooses not to. why? jason is obviously lonely (as ba states in the panel below) and he caves pretty easily when damian asks him for help (both of them are so desperate for human interaction its tragic). so why does he distant himself from the community?

obviously it is in part due to the vigilante lifestyle, but it is also jason's perception of himself and how he believes others perceive him, especially in regards to his family (ba is literally hitting readers in the head with that theme baseball bat).

he doesn't see that the kid with the mask looks up to him, all he sees is the mother pulling him away. he sees the banned poster in the store. and, as ba narrates, "he was sure he'd been forgotten about" by his family. utrh is jason's twisted way of attempting to reach out and connect with bruce, and obviously that doesn't work-- so he chooses loneliness over rejection.

like in part one, though, damian refutes this idea by describing bruce's perspective, showing how what jason believes differs from actuality. bruce hasn't forgotten about him and doesn't hate him, as he suspected, but instead harbors guilt over the situation and desires to make it better, which jason must come to understand to be able to open the locked door and begin to move past his trauma.

so, that's what the little kid in the red hood outfit looks like to me. i actually have a lot more i'd like to say about the boy wonder, especially in regards to the whole "door to my past life" thing and what ba does with lighting and blocking in his artwork, so i may do a little post on that as well! i was gonna try and shove it into this one, but i've run out of room! i hope you guys liked my analysis, if you'd like to chat about the boy wonder or any other comics, my dms, asks, and reblogs are happily open! thanks for reading! :)) <3

pt. 1 / pt. 2

[bluesidez]

AHH CMON REQUESTS!! I know the inbox is flooded girl omg.

okay so as a request, i would really love to see a story where black, plus size reader and Miguel take on wedding planning. Reader is happy enjoying cake tastings, dress shopping, venue hunting etc. and groomzilla!miguel is trying to make everything perfect for her. It can be nsfw, but I trust you with whatever the vibe is! Love you down!! ✨✨✨✨

["It’s My Wife’s Day!"]

lab tester: @leoeloo 🩻

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!Reader, black!Reader, PlusSize!reader

summary: No one is going to stop Miguel's fiancé from having the best day of her life, not if Miguel has anything to do with it.

content warning: AAVE (YAY!), sorry to anyone named Elana or Finley, Miguel gets a little mean here (I tried to keep it reasonable but he’s giving Libra Diva DOWN), mentions of food, some cultural (traditional) things from both sides but nothing crazy, there is one scene that could be triggering for my fellow big girls (but it's handled with care I promise), 18+ at the end so MDNI, it's also pretty suggestive throughout

word count: 8,888k EXACTLY (there should be no mistakes for as long as I've been working on it....but hey)

a/n: AHHHH! I was so happy to receive this request! (You have also been very sweet to me since my very first fic and I really appreciate that!!!) I said on my blog that I really love all things weddings, so this was a super fun write. I just love imagining Miguel in this position of making sure that his girl has everything while the girl is in complete bliss. (The mom here was also heavily inspired by my own mom who is much more active than I am in terms of telling people off.) As per our DMs, I did sprinkle in a little GR!Mig mannerisms! And! I added him being super in love with reader…but that’s a given. I do hope you enjoy! Also, I LOVE YOU!

Miguel refers to reader as his wife constantly before they’re actually married.

Also a headcanon for Miguel here that isn’t said explicitly is that his Libra trait of indecisiveness is on at all times. 

Miguel could never forget the day you set his heart ablaze when you said those destined words:

“Yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”

He was over the moon. Weeks of him getting you to warm up to him, months of him chasing after you, years of him trying to show you that he’s the right one for you, and finally, your hand was adorned in the rock he’s been planning for you for eons. You were truly his lady, now and forever. 

The proposal was quiet and intimate, mostly because Miguel was a bit fearful you would say no, a seed of doubt growing the longer he waited. He steadily reminded you to get your nails done and paid for your hair appointments every now and then. Each time he thought he could do it, he chickened out. 

Then, one night under the stars after an unnecessary work event, his feelings just overloaded. 

You were so ethereal.

He remembers you laughing over something his drunk coworker had said, eyes sparkling as you retold the story. Your curls were parted to the side, earrings dangling past your jaw. Your legs were swinging over the edge of his trunk, not a care in the world as you talked with vigor. 

He thought that he couldn’t live without this. He couldn’t have a life without small moments like this with you. He couldn’t imagine a moment where you weren’t by his side. 

So, the words spilled out of him like water. He took your hands in his and poured his heart out. Finally, the ring box that had practically melted a shape into his thigh was being freed. 

You cried when you noticed what he was doing, emotions doing a complete 180. 

“No wonder you kept giving me extra money for my nails,” you let out a watery laugh as you leaned into him. 

Now, here you both were, almost a year later in the middle of wedding planning. 

The theme and colors were carefully handpicked, the venue was booked, and almost every week, the two of you had something to look forward to. 

Miguel was currently prepping ingredients for tonight’s dinner, listening as you chatted about your great wedding dress search of the day. 

“We stopped by one store, but the lady behind the desk immediately turned us down. I didn’t want to ruin such a good vibe, so I left it at that. Ma was ready to hurt her though.”

Miguel felt his nerves tighten at the news, “What?”

“Yeah, as soon as me and my entourage walked in, she ran up to us saying something about a short stock, but we knew she was lying-”

“What’s the name?”

You raise your eyebrows at his abruptness. 

“Miggy, it’s really ok. Don’t worry over this,” you got closer to him, taking his face into your hand. 

“I’m not. What’s the name?”

You pull his face down to yours, “Nuh uh. I’m not giving you the name. We said we weren’t going to be stressed out over this process, remember?” 

Miguel closed his eyes and brought his hands down your body, leaning his forehead against yours, “I remember.” He blew out a breath and squeezed your ass in hopes that it would help calm him down. 

“Good. Now, you stay right here and I’ll go get ready for dinner. I wanna tell you about this poor girl whose dad didn’t like a single thing she put on.”

You kiss him three times, the last kiss lingering a little longer with Miguel humming into your lips and lean back with a warm smile. Miguel’s hands clinged to you until you were too far to reach and you walked upstairs to change into your house clothes. 

Miguel stood next to the island, tapping his fingers against the granite with a tongue poking into his cheek. 

The dress shopping process was the one he was the least involved in, opting to be surprised on the day you walked down the aisle. You wouldn’t even let his family pitch in for the dress, saying something about running up your dad’s pockets. 

But how does a dress shop conveniently run out of dresses once his fiancé walks in?

Right as Miguel was considering googling every dress shop in the area, his phone buzzed to life. 

Just the person he wanted to hear from.

“Hello?” Miguel turned to toss some butter on a skillet, holding the phone between his shoulder and his ear.

“Miguel…”

He stopped in his tracks, knowing the exact tone of voice your mother was using. 

“What happened?”

“Today was so beautiful!”

“But?”

“But that one shop on James Street? Terrible.”

Miguel would have usually chuckled at the dramatics, but this situation was no laughing matter to him.  

“You should have seen the way the people in there turned they nose up at us! One lady was about to jump out of her skin. All of this for some of the ugliest dresses I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Miguel shifted his position and stood up straight, tossing minced garlic in the sizzling butter, “Did they say anything to you?” His hands were gripping the phone enough to leave indents on his skin.

“Other than telling us how she wouldn’t have anything we would like, no. She didn’t even want us taking a seat in the lobby.”

He moved to grab a pen and a notepad from the drawer, “Do you have the name of the shop?”

“Lady Love. They should call it Lady A Lie.”

Miguel smiled, thankful that he could count on his future mother-in-law to be his partner in crime specifically when it came to making sure that no one brought harm to you. The number one thing that he and your mom had in common was their need to spring into action.

“Thank you. She didn’t want to tell me anything.”

“Trust me, if she hadn’t begged me not to act a fool, I would have cussed that heifer out. She was so nasty and so rude. That ol’ cow.”

“They’ll have a notice from my lawyer by the morning.”

Your mother hummed, “Let me get my iPad out and get to rating they store. It was a bleach blonde butched buffoon named Elana at the front desk. She was the one giving my baby a hard time. Nobody in there was trying to stop her either.”

“I’ll remember that,” Miguel could hear you coming down the stairs, fuzzy slides creating a steady tempo against the floor. “Let me call you back later.”

“She must be coming back. Tell her to bring me back my shoes!”

Miguel chuckled, “Yes ma’am.”

You came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“Was that Ma?”

“Yeah,” Miguel reached to place some chicken on the hot skillet, satisfied with the simmered ingredients he added. “She said to give her those shoes back.”

“She’ll get them back! I’m using them right now. What else were you two talking about?”

Miguel turns down the boil of the pasta noodles, shoulders tensing, “She was telling me about Lady Love.”

You clicked your teeth, “I thought I told you not to worry about it.”

“I’m not!” He turned the chicken over while you grumbled into his back. “But she called me with very upsetting news. What am I but a good son? I had to listen.”

“You two are gonna work my nerves.”

“Don’t say that. We’re just not going to sit back and let someone disrespect you like that. What kind of man would I be if I just let somebody not treat you right and I have the means to stop it? So, please. Let me do this.”

You huffed and buried your face into his back, fingers pressing into his skin. His words shut you up. 

“Fine.” 

“Thank you, cariño. Now, can you get the salad and the wine out of the fridge? This is almost ready.”

“What are you making?”

“Marry Me Chicken and Pasta.”

“So funny.”

“Ah, I know. It must really work, huh?”

Miguel walked hand-in-hand with you down the fancy boutiques in the shopping district. 

You both had just gotten done wandering aimlessly as you waited for the cake-tasting appointment. Miguel had to be stopped multiple times from buying everything you complimented. 

He was extremely happy to see you giddy about the cake tasting. It was something you’ve been looking forward to since the day you both confirmed a wedding date. 

He’s studied your Pinterest boards heavily, the notifications dinging with every pin. He knows you want to go all out for the cake. Something large enough to feed both of your huge families and something grand enough to match the venue and the theme. 

He arranged for the best of the best to be trying out today and if that didn’t work, he’ll seek someone else. He’ll even bake the cake if he has to, although you’d push him out of the kitchen.

“I hope they have that Biscoff flavor. I heard it was really good,” you turn to him with a hopeful smile. 

Miguel smiled back at you, “I’m sure they will.”

He only lets go of your hand to hold the door open for you, eyes enjoying the view of your body in the flowy dress you were wearing. Earlier, he couldn’t stop kissing over the deep Queen Anne neckline of it, claiming that you smelled too good. You two almost didn’t make it out of the house on time.

“Hello! Welcome in!”

The bakery was bright and homey. The desserts on display were placed on light peach stands and risers and the smell of caramel and cinnamon was strong in the air. Square canvases covered the walls with cute paintings of some of the featured desserts.

“Miguel, look!”

You pull him over to some Miffy-shaped buns filled with different flavored custards. 

“That is too adorable to even eat.”

“But I do hope you’d still be willing to give it a taste!”

You both look up to the friendly face behind the counter. They were a lanky figure with a glitter tattoo of a unicorn cupcake planted on their arm and pink gauges in their ears 

“You two must be the future Mr. & Mrs. O’Hara. Lovely to meet you all.”

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” Miguel reached his hand out to give a firm shake. 

“My name is Finley and I’ll be assisting you all today. We have several beautiful flavors for you to try.”

Finely directed you both to a square table booth in the corner of the bakery. Miguel slid next to your right side in order to wrap his arm around with one hand and eat with the other. 

“Other than the standard Chocolate, Vanilla, Strawberry & Cream, Red Velvet, Marble, and ‘Wedding Cake’ flavors that we offer, the samples for you here include Tiramisu, Passionfruit, White Chocolate Raspberry, Lemon Blueberry, Cookies & Cream, aaaand Dulce de Leche!”

Miguel’s eyebrows went up, feeling skeptical but open. 

“Woah,” your eyes grew at the neat display of confections before you. “I’m so excited.”

 “I’ll be right over here if you guys need me. Enjoy!”

You picked up a fork and dug straight into the Strawberries & Cream.

“That is so freaking good,” you groan out, eyebrows scrunching. 

“Let me see,” Miguel turned to you with his mouth open, eyes full of mirth.

“Miguel, please.”

“What? It’s practice for the real deal.”

“When we’re the only ones in here?”

“It’s going to feel like an intimate moment just between us, no?”

You sigh, defeated. He doesn’t even budge when you shove a giant piece of cake in his mouth. He grabs your hand before you can retreat, licking slowly away at the leftover cream. 

He focuses on the golden fork, working in between the prongs. Time slows down as you watch the white icing disappear into his mouth. His eyelashes are long and pretty and his lips are plump and a little wet from his tongue. 

One more pass of the fork through his mouth and he’s looking up at you with the same fire from this morning. 

You clear your throat, “Is that how you’re going to eat the cake?”

“Something like that.”

You two slowly but surely make it through the rest of the flavors with you trying to stay unflustered and Miguel trying to up the ante. 

He’s grinning and chuckling at your ruffled state until you get to the Dulce de Leche cake. He harrumphs as you cut into it. 

“No, no, you wanna eat cake so bad, so eat it!”

“This isn’t the cake I was talking about-”

“I’m going to shove this fork so far down your throat if you even think of finishing those thoughts out loud.”

 “You know I love it when you get that way,” Miguel sighs and reaches to eat from the fork before you can say anything back. 

You wait in silence as you watch his face contort from disgusted to neutral to pleased. 

“It’s not that bad.”

“Yeah?”

“A little too sweet. Abuela wouldn’t like it.”

“Do you like it, though?”

He paused as he watched you take a bite. 

“Maybe.”

“Would you like it as our wedding cake?”

“No….”

You smirked at him, “But you want it as your groom’s cake?”

“…Yes.”

He looks so conflicted about it that you almost feel bad for him.

“Miguel it’s ok if you like it, no one is going hurt you. You know you have a sweet tooth.”

“It is really delicious, like eerily so. It’s not my favorite cake, though.”

“Oh? Was it the Cookies & Cream one?”

“Close.”

You look around the plate, confused as to how fruit flavors have anything to do with sandwich cookies. 

Miguel got closer to your ear, lips grazing the top, “My favorite is you.”

You push his face back with your hand while he grins into your palm. 

“I see you two lovebirds are enjoying everything,” Finley walks back over to the two of you. “Any standouts?”

Miguel lists off the ones you were enjoying the most with ease. 

“We also enjoyed this Dulce de Leche one but we decided it would be best for my cake but before we move on, do you have any Biscoff cake samples that we can try?”

“Of course, let me go get that for you.”

He looks back at you cheesing at him.

“You remembered!”

“Always.” 

Finley comes back with a small Biscoff bundt cake. 

“Now, unfortunately, we don’t offer this flavor for any tiered cakes.”

You took a bite and almost soared. The flavors were just the right mix of salty and sweet, some caramel coating the top. 

Miguel looked from you to Finley, “Can you just do it for one tier?”

“Um, I can ask my boss when she comes back-”

“You can leave her number with me. I would really love to talk with her face-to-face.”

“Y-yes sir.”

“Good,” Miguel reaches over to wipe some salt off of your lips. “My wife wants a pretty grand cake and she has some particular ideas. We want to be really involved in the process for the best result. No surprises.”

“Absolutely. Would you still want to place that order for the groom cake? We have a sale on toppers for them right now.”

They place a pamphlet on the counter with countless toppers of grooms in pure agony. Some are being dragged by their wives and others are running away. Miguel turns his lip up and moves his eyes to Finely without lifting his head up. 

“These are very tacky and senseless, so no. We’ll place the order for it at the same time as the main cake.”

Finely moves to remove the pamphlet, face red and eyes wet, “I apologize. A lot of the future husbands enjoy them.”

“Do I look like the other husbands that come through here?”

“N-no sir! Not at all.”

“Tell you what, give me your boss’s number and your business card. We’ll circle back. Thank you for today’s tasting.”

“L-let me at least give you some extra dessert before you leave. Free of charge!”

Miguel helps you stand as Finley hops around the store grabbing any and everything. 

“I really hope you consider choosing us for the wedding.”

“The wedding?”

“Your! Your wedding!”

“Hmph.”

Miguel grabs the box from Finley’s shaking hands and promptly leaves the store with you on his arm. You turn back to Finley with an apologetic look and a quiet sorry leaving your lips, though you’re sure they’re still shocked by Miguel’s behavior. 

“I’m going to set up more appointments. We need a backup cake,” he says as he guides you back to the car. 

“You loved those cakes and you scared that poor person to death.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just me eating these cakes. And those were some of the most horrible toppers I’ve seen yet. Who does that?” 

“You would be shocked to know that not every man is willing to celebrate and proudly love their partner.”

Miguel turned the car on and let the cool AC hit his face. 

“But, if you still want to look at more bakeries, we can. More cake for me.”

You turn his face to yours and kiss his lips gently. 

“Now what’s all this about eating me-flavored cake?”

He shifts the gear into reverse, “Let’s get home and you’ll find out.”

When you said you wanted creative and unique pre-wedding photoshoots, Miguel didn’t hesitate to make sure he could pull it together for you. Now he’s starting to regret it. 

You walked out into the studio apartment with an oversized button-down that looked like it could be his, some thigh-high stockings squeezing at your thick thighs, and some black lingerie peeking through the thin shirt material. Your makeup was simple but jaw-dropping with glossy lips and a lovely blush that brought out a glow to your skin. Your hair was in a blowout style, curls bouncing with every step closer to him.

This specific photographer that you had mentioned in awed passing was known for her eye for romantic detail. Her pictures truly captured the love between couples in raw form. When you showed Miguel the pictures on her website, he was quick to get in touch with her to set up a decent amount of photoshoots. What he didn’t expect was for her to have an influx of assistants and protégés to have wandering eyes. 

“Are you going to move the lights or are you going to keep gawking at my wife like an idiot?” 

The one assistant who clearly didn’t understand what Miguel’s death stares meant jumped at his voice and rushed to move things within the set, the entire back of his neck beet-red. 

“Baby, don’t be like that, he might just be nervous,” you slid your hands up his chest, straightening out his “work” shirt. “Don’t fuss at him.”

 “He should do his job then,” Miguel shifted his gaze from the scrambling boy to you, voice getting quieter as he peered down at your excited face. “You do look beautiful, though. Can’t blame him.”

“You like it?” There was a spark in your eye. It was something that Miguel knew all too well.

He glided his fingers down your back, feeling the heat of your skin through the shirt. Your eyes never left his lips as he drew closer. You could feel his breath covering your skin.

The flash of a strobe light caused you to jump.

“These are going to make such stunning outtakes,” Xina gasped as she moved her camera back up to her face again. “Sorry to scare you. Please continue this and we can do the original plan in a second.”

You laughed as Miguel pulled you even closer, pressing kisses against your neck to avoid ruining your makeup. 

The original idea of the shoot was to have Miguel look like he’s coming home from work and walking in on you dancing around in his clothes. The idea was cute, domestic, a little sexy, and true to life. While it wasn’t the set of photos going out with your wedding invitations, it was something fun for your socials. 

As the scene played out, Miguel didn’t expect you to open up your shirt even more as he came back through the entryway. It made for a nice expression when he looked up to see you passionately dancing around the couch. 

You urged him toward you with your finger, hips moving to the music blasting over the speakers Xina had behind the equipment. Miguel grinned and headed your way. 

With Xina’s direction, the both of you were able to get out lively photos as if it were just a normal day in the soon-to-be O’Hara home. 

By the time you all were finished, Miguel was only in a tucked-in tank top with his hair tossed and turned. You still looked perfect on his lap, grinning down at him as he mischievously bit his loose necktie that you placed on your shoulders.

“Perfect!” Xina smiled behind the camera. “Now, one little thing I like to do at the end of each shoot is have the couple face me with their faces together for one final picture.”

You kiss Miguel on the corner of his mouth and lay his tie on top of his head before turning to Xina. Miguel follows with a lazy grin on his face.

It would have all been so well if that same assistant wasn’t still staring at you like he’s never seen a beautiful woman before when Xina started to wrap up. 

He met Miguel’s eyes and almost turned blue in the face trying to look busy.

There were so many more photoshoots to go in the near future. He’s not sure how he’ll make it through the next ones without making a scene. 

“Miguel! The invitation samples are here,” you knocked on his office door, giddy with excitement.

Miguel rolls back from his desk, glasses perched on his nose, “C’mon, let me see.”

You stride eagerly to his seat and he’s waiting with the same energy, pulling you into his lap once you’re within arms reach. You make a noise of excitement as run your finger under the envelope flap. Miguel leans his head on your shoulder waiting to finally see the design you so meticulously planned. 

You slid the cardstock out, gasping as you saw the paperdoll drawings of you and Miguel on the page. The artists did a fantastic job of designing you both in such a stylistic, yet recognizable way. 

“Oh my god, look at the little outfits!”

You panned through the cut-out clothes, one with you all’s work outfits, another with casual outfits, and the last one with a wedding dress and a tux. You brought the papers up to cover your mouth as you laughed again. Miguel’s heart soared at the charming way you reacted. 

“Look! They even captured your cute nose right!”

“You love my nose, huh?”

“Stop,” you snicker as you pull out the last picture. It’s one from a more recent photoshoot with you both in formal, dressy attire with scissors and measuring tapes in your hands and paper hearts everywhere to match the paperdoll invitation. 

Miguel took the invitations from your hands, wanting to get a better look. It really was one of a kind, something you both would be able to look back fondly at. 

He ran his thumb across the words, really taking in the fact that you’ll be walking down the aisle right into his arms. He read the words once more. 

Save the date…

2025…

Miguel &…

“How the hell did they spell your name wrong?”

You looked up from the picture in your hand with a frown, “What?”

“We waited this long for samples and they spell your name fucking wrong.”

You read over the invitation again and let out a groan, “Of course. Let me call the company-”

“I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure? You looked busy when I knocked, I don’t want you to get sidetracked.”

“Making sure that my wife’s name is spelled correctly on our wedding invitations isn’t getting sidetracked. I’ll handle it.”

You felt your shoulders drop, a tension you didn’t realize you were carrying releasing from your body. 

“Thank you so much, baby,” you sent him the number with a small smile on your face. 

Miguel gave your lips a peck, “Anything for you. Don’t worry your head about it.”

You stood up to leave, but not before he gave your thighs a squeeze. 

When he was sure you rounded the corner, he immediately pressed the number, blowing slowly through his mouth. 

He was about to work his way to free invitations and a year's worth of service once he was finished. 

Miguel laughed at the video you sent him. You were practically glowing with the turquoise waves in the background and braids in your hair. A giant plumeria was tucked behind your ear and you held a big fruity drink in your hand. 

You were out on your bachelorette’s trip, enjoying the waves in the sand as you caught up with your bridesmaids. He hadn’t seen any annoyed texts yet, so he assumed that the trip was not falling to pieces. 

He could hear your friends in the background bickering about how they had to take your phone away sometimes to stop you from texting him. 

“She got a few more months of being a hoe!”

“Will you shut up?! I’m making a video.”

“It’s true, though! We’re about to go get drunk as fuck. Don’t worry, Miguel, we got her!”

You just rolled your eyes and smiled at their antics before the video ends.

The mood of the video contrasted your texts entirely. They really did get you drunk.

“i miss you alreadyyyyyy”

“I miss you too but you need to have fun”

“I’ll see you soon. I’ll be waiting for you at the airport in just a few days.”

“good”

“you better be waiting for me”

“i wont you”

“shit”

“want you”

“you and your dick”

“gonna sing to him”

“Him?”

“yeah him”

“he’s mine”

“gonna love on him”

“and you”

“miss you so baaaaad”

“the bed is empty without you :((((“

“I hope you remember all of this when you see me baby”

“my name is mrssss oharaaaa”

“idk who baby is”

“Ok well Mrs. O’Hara you need to go to sleep”

“i will go to sleep mr ohara”

“gonna dream of you”

“and my big dick”

“You do that”

“Send me a pic when you wake up”

The night could have ended perfectly. He knew you had fun and crashed safely in your room. There were no problems with the resort or the reservations. You were constantly flooding his phone with pictures without talking because of the “No Miguel” rule he was sure your friends set. 

Miguel wanted to close his eyes in peace. 

So when his assistant sent him the picture of one of the most crucial parts of your wedding, he could feel his neck tightening. He called Ben instantly.

“What the fuck am I looking at?”

“The broom! They had a lot of them at the store but this one was plain and white, so I feel like it’s perfect for the wedding.”

Miguel pinched his forehead in an attempt to keep his eyebrows from molding together, “Do you have a schedule for when you’re this stupid, or is it only reserved for me?”

Ben was silent for a second, “I don’t understand, I thought you said you needed a broom? Is that not what this is?”

“A broom to jump over Reily. For weddings. I told you to check with Jess about it because I knew you weren’t going to have the slightest idea what I was talking about. Imagine if I brought this home to my wife. She would be offended.”

“W-what’s the difference?”

He might find out the difference once Miguel hits him over the head with it. 

“I’m going to fire you.” 

Miguel wasn’t really. He was just so tired. 

“Return the broom. I’ll take care of this in the morning.”

Ben was stuttering and blubbering as Miguel smacked the red button. He needed to look at the pictures you sent again. He didn’t need to fall asleep in such a bad mood. 

Miguel was certain that if he were a celebrity, this would be the wedding of the century with the way the bill was racking up. 

Not that it really mattered, because it was his wife’s day. Anything you wanted, he was going to get it. 

You both agreed on a buffet-style dinner for the reception with different stations and servers to accommodate your huge families. 

Currently, you both were tasting the traditional foods that the caterer had to offer and it was looking less than desirable. 

The greens were a bit bland, the catfish was ok, and the mac & cheese was delicious. 

The pork was a bit dry, the wedding cookies could have been better, and the mole was missing something. 

“I think,” Miguel pushed his food around the plate. “It’s missing banana.”

“Really? I’ve never thought to add that before.”

“For future reference, it’ll really make the difference.”

You wiped your fingers above the plate, “I think this might be a sign to leave the traditional stuff to our dessert table. Some of these are great but I’m sure both of our families will be up in arms with complaints. And maybe this is for the better! Tradition is too on the nose.”

Miguel admires your positivity because this is probably the sixth caterer you both have tested out. 

“We know you’re popular from your page, so what is it that you’re most confident in?”

The woman before you all smiled, “Since you're both looking for a pretty ambitious spread, I think things like a pizza bar or build-your-own stations should be the way to go.”

Through another round of dishes, you and Miguel were amazed by the specialties that the chef had to offer from the customization to the endless amount of options.

After a long Q&A trial between the chef and Miguel:

“Do you have simpler options for the kiddos?”

“Is it possible to do this station and this station right next to each other?”

“Should I hire more help for you?”

“Do you sell this mac & cheese separately?”

“Can you try this mole one more time?”

You both settled on five different stations with food ranging from BBQ to fries to candy. No one will be able to say that they went home hungry.

“Are you satisfied?” you rub Miguel’s chest on the way out to the car.

“Completely. I think it’s going to be great.”

The big day was getting closer and closer with finalizations being made and arrangements galore. The cake flavors were chosen, your dress was being edited to perfection, makeup and hair appointments were already made, and Miguel’s suit was tailored like no other. The bridesmaids and groomsmen were all fitted, especially after Miguel’s constant trips to Lyla’s shop. He was there for nearly every snip, tuck, and seam.

The time was really winding down and you both could really feel that as you walked into the reception venue. 

Miguel woke up that day to a phone call claiming that the venue had been overbooked and was seeking him out to cancel his event. He’s never called people faster in his life. The threats that were made was not something he was proud of, but he’s glad he didn’t wake you up.

Now he has the pleasure of watching you glide around the tables in awe.

“Miguel! Look at the plates! The silverware! The centerpieces!”

It truly was magical watching your vision come to light. 

Miguel followed after you with a grin painting his lips, checking every table for faults. The wedding planner was also next to him, waiting with bated breath for direction from Miguel.

“This should be here,” Miguel pointed to a lone party favor in the middle of a plate.

The planner moves it with ease, used to Miguel’s demands at this point in the process. 

Miguel kept walking towards the tables closest to where you and he would be sitting. 

“I thought I said that these two weren’t supposed to be next to each other? We don’t have time for arguments that night,” Miguel picks up two placeholders. “I don’t want to have to carry our aunts out of here myself. Fix it.”

The wedding planner grabbed them and made a note on their clipboard.

“And where’s the centerpiece for our table?” Miguel checks his watch. “It was supposed to be here yesterday.”

“There was a delay in the flowers. They were the wrong shade, remember? They should be here first thing tomorrow morning, and we’ll have the final touches to it.”

“And you’ll have the pictures sent to me?”

“Of course.”

“Miguel!” you were on the other side of the hall by the dessert table. “The lights over here are shaped like hearts! How cute is that!”

Miguel’s arms unfolded, demeanor shifting as he watched you get excited by the different labels. His chest rose up and the scowl on his mouth disappeared. 

“You really love her.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“This is a toast to everyone who has been with us on this long, long journey.”

Your closest friends and family laughed at Miguel’s words. 

Who’s to say that Miguel essentially blacked out making sure that everyone walked down the aisle correctly just a few hours earlier? No one brave enough to bring it to his face.

“You guys have been here from the start. From the moment I decided to pursue this angel of a woman, you guys were right there cheering me on. Now we’re here years later about to take on one of the biggest days of our lives.”

The table was a mix of happiness and nostalgia, excitement and fondness.

“I can’t thank you all enough for being a part of our bridal party. I can’t even thank you guys enough for encouraging us as a couple. The love in this room truly knows no bounds.’

Miguel lifts his glass up with one hand and squeezes your hand with another.

“So here’s to the present and the future. To family and friends. To us, your future O’Hara’s.”

The table clinks their glasses together with a cheer, watching as Miguel kisses you with so much adoration. 

Tomorrow was going to be whimsical.

Today was starting out obnoxious. 

Anything that could go wrong was going wrong for Miguel.

First, woke up almost an hour late due to playing stupid games all night with his groomsmen. He would have preferred one my night with you before the “I do’s,” but apparently that was bad luck. Instead, he got an extensive game night with a couple of beers. Nothing to have him over the edge, but definitely something to make him feel like he was in college again.

Second, he couldn’t find his cufflinks that he had made specifically for this day. They were custom with your initials and your birthstone on them. The room looked like a whirlwind after he searched top to bottom only for Gabriel to have them the whole time and tell him almost forty minutes later. 

He wanted to strangle him.

“Miguel, I have the rings too. There’s no way you think that Peter B. is a better ringkeeper than I am.”

“If you lose them, I swear to god I’m going to-”

“Yeah, yeah. Death, Grim Ripper, stabbing, big whoop. Go calm down.”

Third, for some reason, Peter B. had Mayday in the hotel suite when the only children that were supposed to hit the aisle were his niece and your nephew. 

“Why is that baby here?” Miguel tried to keep his voice level because it’s not Mayday who ran in here, it was Peter who’s constantly doing what he wanted. She was walking around and chatting with the groomsmen who were kind enough to keep up her conversations. Four-year-olds had a lot to say.

“Ah, she’s just here until her grandma comes by to pick her up!”

“Peter, if I pass out before I see my wife today, you’re going to be the first reason.”

Lastly, when everything was finally settled and he was ready to go to the ceremony venue, Gabriel came running in and almost gave Miguel a heart attack. Something about you and crying and Miguel almost broke the door down trying to get out.

“Miguel, don’t look at her!” Gabriel ran after him as he made his way to your suite.

“I’m not, damn it, I just need to make sure she’s ok.”

He was on your floor in a flash, your friends waiting outside the door. 

“Where is she?”

“She’s inside. We calmed her down for the most part, but her aunt got up here somehow and started to talk shit.”

“Miguel, if Jess and her mom weren't able to remove her, it would have been bad. She kept saying things about how you’re being tricked. She kept telling her that she wasn’t worthy enough to be a bride.”

“What?” Miguel walked towards the door. “Let me in.”

“Let us make sure you can’t see her, first.”

“I really don’t give a-”

“Miguel.”

He turned to Gabriel who pushed his hands down in a pressing motion, “Ya relájate, yeah? She’s not going to be centered if you aren’t centered.” 

With that in mind, Miguel waited at the door until he was allowed in. Your friends said you were in the bathroom with the door cracked. He walked over and turned his back to the door, tapping in a light rhythm so as not to startle you.

“You ok, baby?”

He could hear your sniffles and it took everything within him not to take the hinges off the door just to get to you. 

“No, not really. I, I’m terrified.”

“Honestly, me too.”

The door moved a bit, and your voice sounded closer, “What if I’m not the woman you need?

He scoffed, “And what if I’m not the man you need?”

You were quiet for just a moment, “You are more than what any man has ever been for me. I don’t think there’s been even a day where I could fix my lips to say that I haven’t felt your love and your heart. You’re…you’re everything to me.”

“So how do you think I feel when someone has convinced you that you aren’t enough for me?” Miguel turned his head to the crack. “No woman has opened my eyes like you have. No person has stolen my heart and cared for it the way that you have. I can’t even begin to describe the ways in which you’ve changed me for the better. You are my world.”

“Miguel,” your voice was watery as you took a deep breath. 

“If you want to call this entire thing off and go to the Justice of the Peace, that’s fine with me. We can send our family straight to the reception. I don’t care, as long as I have you.”

“No, I want to still have this ceremony. I still want to present our love. I’m just overwhelmed right now.”

Miguel moves to slide his wrist through the door, “Give me your hand.”

You laugh as you take his hand in yours, careful not to lean on the door and smoosh it.

“You are worthy to me and this is only a new chapter in the foundation that we’ve built. No jealous aunt nor any other family member is taking what we have away. I chose you, you chose me, ok?”

“Ok,” you squeeze his hand as rubs the top of yours with his thumb. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Miguel’s heart was hammering in his chest like a hummingbird fluttering around nectar.

He stood at the end of the aisle with his one hand grasping one wrist and a knot in his throat. The seats were filled with waiting people, but he didn't think anyone was more ready than him. Gabriel had patted him on the back once he was down the aisle, now he stood with his daughter at his side making sure Miguel really didn’t pass out.

Miguel’s tunnel vision shifted as everyone got up to watch you come around the corner. Miguel’s breath stopped. 

You really were his world. 

Your smile was blinding as you stepped towards him, your father’s arm wrapped tightly around yours. The closer you got, the more Miguel could feel the air coming back into his lungs.

As he waited for your father to put your hands in his, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He was so lucky, he couldn’t believe it. 

As he held his hands out, he had to will himself to relax. 

You stepped closer to him, your warm palms bringing life back to his. 

“You’re shaking.”

He looked to his hands and they did have a faint tremor to them, “I’m excited.”

With eyes for only each other, you both made it through your vows. Miguel damn near brought the audience to tears with his imagery of a lost younger version of himself and you finding him in his aimless pursuit of living. How you opened up to him like a waterfall behind thick vines. How you wrapped your arms around him. How you upgraded his life. 

You almost brought him to tears when you spoke about how he loved you. How he stood tall between all that was against you and guided you to better days. How he never went a day without showering you in some form of love, even when he was feeling like shit. How he made you want to grow old with him and walk through life together. 

To the shock of no one, you both said “I do” with ease, no objection to be heard. 

When he kissed you, the world stopped for only a second and came back down with the celebration from your guests. His hands on your jaw brought you closer to him and one swipe of the tongue before he pulled away had you excited for later. 

One more kiss and you both turned to the crowd ecstatically. The broom was placed in front of you both and with three taps on your hand you both took a huge jump over it. Your family and friends cheered even louder. 

Walking down the aisle to the doors, Miguel could actually pay attention to the crowd. So many people were smiling and wiping tears from their faces. It only solidified the love that he had for you. 

You both laugh as flower petals fill the air around you on the way to the car. 

It was really a joyous occasion. 

Miguel was so happy, he didn’t care what anyone else did.

Ok so, he did stop one of his baby cousins from sticking their entire head in the fondue machine, but other than that, he was so relieved.

The DJ announcing you two as Mr. & Mrs. Miguel O’Hara elevated his mood and the trip to the dance floor for the first dance had his spirits high. 

The two of you had a sexy number, with his hands barely leaving your hips and his fingers sliding up the slit of the sparkly dress you changed into. 

After that, it was hard for him to keep his hands off of you. He tried to distract himself with catching up with family, grabbing food from each station, having dance competitions, laying sleeping kids more comfortably in chairs, anything to stop himself from just dragging you to your reserved hotel room. 

When you two stood near the cake feeding each other bites with hearts in your eyes, he couldn’t help but to lean into your ear and whisper, “Still the second best flavor.”

You hit his chest with one hand and covered your cake-filled mouth with the other. 

By the time you drove off with ribbons and flowers trailing the back of the car, Miguel was practically buzzing getting you all to himself. 

He made that known by carrying you bridal style to the room without a care in the world and you laughing into his neck. 

You kissed his neck as he refused to let you, even for the elevator, “You’re so silly.”

“The better to make you laugh, Mrs. O’Hara.”

“I love it when you call me that. Say it again.”

“Mrs. O’Hara. My beautiful bride today, my beautiful wife for life.”

He passes through the door after you reach to scan the keycard. As soon as he closes it you’re on his face kissing all over. 

“My husband,” you say in between the passes of his lips against yours. “Mr. O’Hara. Will you put me down?”

“Nuh uh.”

“Then how will we finish off our night with a bang? C’mon, baby, I have a surprise for you.”

“Fine,” four more kisses and Miguel let you go. 

“Just go sit on the bed and I’ll be right back.”

Miguel laid his jacket on a chair and walked over to the bed. He started to unbutton his shirt carefully, not wanting to tear the expensive material. He slid his shoes off carefully too, sliding into the fluffy slippers the hotel provided. 

He would say he wishes he could have done more for tonight, but the two of you will be enjoying the fresh air of a foreign country in about two weeks time. 

He sat on the bed as he waited for you to come out of the bathroom. There was no telling what you had in store, and he can’t wait to find out. 

“Close your eyes!”

Miguel obeyed, curious as to what you had in store. He could hear the padding of your heels on the carpet getting closer. 

You took his hands and guided them to your ass and with muscle memory, he took a handful.

“I’m already sold,” he said, feeling some light fabric hit his wrists. 

You chuckled at his face, seeing his tongue poked out to the corner and his hands feeling and kneading your body. 

“Ok, open ‘em.”

Miguel parted his eyes to see you in beautiful white lingerie. A white open lace see-through babydoll set hugged your tits tight. Panning down, he could see your thin panty with the string pulled over your hips and the curve of your body on display. Going further down, on your left leg, there was a garter digging into your skin that read “Miguel’s Wife” in bold, red cursive letters. 

“You like it?”

Miguel looked up to you with a tinier veil adorning your hair.

“This garter might be the only thing that makes it out unscathed.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm hm,” he leans forward to plant kisses along the top of your chest, pulling your thick thighs around him. “We’re gonna get a complaint.”

“Good,” you raked your nails down his nape, earning a groan from Miguel as you continued to his back. “I want you to make love to me.”

You start to grind along him, feeling the bulge in his suit pants grow. Miguel hummed and started to remove your top. It looked gorgeous on you, but it was useless to him at the moment. Your skin was sparkling all the way down to your nipples and it only made Miguel want to devour you more. 

You gasp as he smacks your ass and hikes you up, his mouth latching onto your areola like it’s fruit from the chocolate fondue today. 

“I’ve been wanting this all night,” Miguel mumbles into your skin. “You looked so amazing today.”

“So did you,” you tilt his chin up to look at his face. “I saw you looking at me all night. You’re not very discreet.”

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

He got up with you in his arms and flipped you over, “Everybody there should know how I feel about you by now.”

You were a vision. Smooth skin contrasting with the stark white of the panty and garter, veil sprawled out behind you like a halo. Miguel bent down to kiss you again, truly in awe that this was who he had as a spouse. 

“I want you to know how I feel about you too,” you whisper against his lips. 

You guide his hand from your face to your breast to your panties. You part your legs, thighs shaking in anticipation. Miguel's eyes get wider as he sees your lips through the peek-a-boo hole of your underwear. One swipe and your essence is on his fingertips. 

Miguel brings his eyes back to you as he takes his fingers and brings it to his lips, sucking it off with a pop. 

You bite your lip watching him lick his fingers and unbuckle his pants. 

The air is tight and heated, with you open and waiting and Miguel watching and wanting. 

He leans back and pulls his pants down. You look down hoping to see a peek of what’s about to rock your world. 

At the sight of your name and “MIC” in bold black letters across the band you bust out in giggles. 

You sit up as he comes around to the side of the bed, “I can’t believe you remembered that.”

“I’ll never forget it.”

You laugh even more when you see it up close.

“Help me take this off,” he turns around to show your name and “Husband” printed on the back.  

You lean into his back in a fit of giggles, shocked but giddy. 

“We really are soulmates,” you say as you pull the briefs by the leg. “Meant to be.”

Miguel turns back around, bending to slide your mouth with his, “Forever and ever.”

True to his word, it really felt like you were his favorite flavor with the amount of marks he left on your skin before he got back in between your legs. You were so wound tight that with one lick from your hole to your clit, you were already trapping his head there. 

Miguel hummed and hiked your hips up, mouth moving to kiss your lips as if he were making out with the ones on your face. It was absurd how loud it sounded. His tongue kept swirling along your walls while the tip of his nose rubbed against your clit. 

You didn’t know where to keep your hands, but it did look good with your ring dazzling on your finger as you brought your hands to his head buried deep in your pussy. 

“Don’t stop,” you cried as he started to nod his face along your flower. 

Just when you could feel yourself ride to the edge, he took his middle and ring finger and spread you open. You shouted his name as you felt the cool touch of the ring slide in and out alongside the heat of his tongue. 

You don’t remember when you came down, but you remember Miguel’s drenched face kissing along your shaking thighs. 

“No Dulce de Leche is beating that, Mrs. O’Hara,” he reached to pull the soaking lace off, careful not to move the garter. 

“C’mere,” you hold your hands out, wanting to feel him on you. “I’m glad you like it so much.”

Miguel groans into your mouth, grinding his dick along your wet folds. He finds your hands and intertwines his fingers with yours. 

“I love you,” he sighs into your mouth. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

One sweet session later, he had you on your stomach, back arched, and yelling into the pillows as he pounded into you. 

You could see stars as his hips smacked loudly against your ass. The headboard was knocking against the wall with every push. 

Miguel was really feeling the wedding attire as he had one hand gripping your veil by your back and the other pulling at garter. 

When you came around his cock, he was diving in right after, letting go into your sea. The shudders of you afterwards had him moving a little more and turning your face to the side to kiss your panting lips. 

By the time you two finished, you were sure the sun was soon to rise. 

Your hair was a mess, the veil was somewhere across the room, and you both were tangled up in the sheets. 

You laid your head on Miguel’s chest, content to listen to his heartbeat to lull you to sleep. He’s rubbing your arm and kissing the top of your head. 

“Thank you so much for stepping up and making this day so magical for me,” you look up at him. “Words can’t explain how appreciative I am.”

Miguel looked back at you, eyes warm, “I just want to see you smile. Thank you for giving me space to handle things.”

You pucker your lips and he reaches to comply. 

“Now, we need to get some sleep. Gotta regain some energy.”

“You’re absolutely right,” you say as you tilt your eyes down to the sheets. “Because I’ve got a show to put on when we wake up.”

Miguel just laughs as he pulls you onto his chest. 

The birds chirping were a nice background noise to you all’s slumber. 

I went through several episodes of Kitchen Nightmares in order to finish this. BUT! I am happy with the result. As always, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and COMMENT!

[youthofpandas]

Call Her Ishmael (or: a trans reading of one of my favorite Limbus characters)

Hi, I have been thinking about writing something like this since Canto V first released and today I finally felt inspired to actually make this... A compilation of the parts of Ishmael's story that lead me to reading her as trans <3 and why I think that understanding her character though that lens works so well

We begin with a woman stuck in the mundane. No plans for the future, no dreams of a life beyond the one she is currently living in, and that life is one she has long grown tired of. And she decides she would rather quit living that life, even if it would kill her. Everyone told her not to do this, but she wanted (needed) to do something new with her life.

She finds Ahab here, when she is at this low where she is unsure of where to go from here now that she has cast her old life away. She looks at Ahab and sees a woman with goals, determination, serious plans for the future she is willing to commit to. And she wants to be just like that woman. She wants to be a woman who will choose what her destiny is, choose what life she has.

"I hoped to be like her one day. To be someone who will face the destiny of her own choosing. To have something I could give it my all with conviction and without a moment of hesitation."

And when she gets on that boat and starts this new chapter in her life, well. There she meets Queequeg, and is asked for her name...

Queequeg asking her name, something that surprises Ishmael, and complimenting her hair is a defining moment in Ishmael's life and in their relationship. And not only is it the first conversation they have, it is the also last thing Queequeg asks of her. To hear Ishmael's name one more time is something that will bring not only herself comfort, but she knows will stabilize Ishmael as well in this moment. That it will bring her back to when they had first met, to the fond memories of a good friend who had asked for her name. Ishmael's name, her identity, the one she forged on that boat even through great difficulty is what shaped her into being herself... That is how their relationship begins and ends...

There is also a recurring theme of being reborn, of happiness being found in another life that is kinder to them both. Ishmael dreams of a life where they can break out of their cocoons. She wants to bury her past and had no dreams of the future before joining the Pequod, before meeting Queequeg and finding someone she wants a future with. Through Queequeg, through the woman who thinks her hair is the brilliant color of sunset and asked for her name, Ishmael is capable of imagining a destiny of her own choosing just like she had wanted when she met Ahab. (She isn't able to chase after it, not yet, because of Ahab's influence over the Pequod, but she for the first time can at least dream of a future where she is happy)

When tragedy strikes, she is left as, in her mind, the sole survivor of the crew, she has lost Queequeg, lost Ahab, lost her chance at finding happiness and purpose. It's then that she takes Queequeg's rope (the thing that kept her alive! Queequeg throughout their time knowing each other is always there to save her and help her keep on living) and makes it into a headband, attaches cute bows to it, a bit of femininity that is intrinsically attached to the woman who helped save her. She grows out her hair, her beautiful sunset colored hair, and it is so heart warming. For a long time I assumed that her not cutting her hair was done out of mourning, out of an unwillingness to move on from the life she had on that ship, but instead it was because Queequeg had loved her and she had loved her friend in kind.

In conclusion I love Ishmael very much and I like to rotate her around. Everything from her metaphors of being stuck in a cocoon and wanting to break free, her envy of Ahab's ability to find purpose so easily, her relationship with Queequeg that helped inspire her to dream for more to dream of a future where she is happy,, it is all very good and to me reading her as trans strengthens the themes of her story. I've watched the final part of the Canto V dungeon several times over when my friends arrive at that part of the story, and the Call Me Ishmael line always makes me start tearing up.

Ishmael starts as an unhappy office worker with no future and it is a life she cannot continue living, she meets an older woman who has the drive and passion to chase after her goals and wants to be like her when she is older, she has a life defining moment where another woman asks for her name and wants to be good friends with her, that woman will save her in so many ways and she will love that woman so deeply for how she helped influence her life, she sees herself trapped in a cocoon and wants to break free, she dreams of her and that woman will persevere, how they will live out the rest of their days, countless mirror worlds of happiness spent at each other's side. She starts the game proper with her hair grown long, ribbons attached to a rope that helped save her that represents the woman who had saved her before. She ends her chapter finding a new adventure to go on, one will she get to explore the world she lives in, she has found a compass in Dante who will help her chart her path forward.

Also I know we all make jokes about how inconsistent the art is when it comes to her chest but like... Come on look at the difference here.... I'm correct about this. But I mostly wanted to make this post to point out that her narrative arc is also trans and it goes so much deeper than just art inconsistencies.

Okay that's all I can think of now, thank you for reading, I hope you all also love her <3

[swiss-mrs]

#WEIRD☆GIRL

(Word Count: 4.6k)

Rating: PG-13, Adult Language and Themes, All Characters are 18+

Reader/OC Description: Reader/OC is Afro-Latina. She has long, dyed black hair that is worn straight with baby bangs and shaved brows. She is an alt baddie and would've definitely ruled MySpace. Body shape/type is not detailed. No Use of Y/N.

Playlist

Synopsis: One day, while Dave and Todd are out, they pass by a park void of screaming kids. Instead, the park is taken up by a group of what looks to be a mix of teenagers and young adults. Passing by the loud group, the boys can't help but stare, mixing Dave up with a girl more socially unacceptable than him.

Warnings(?): Adult Language, Sexual Themes (No Smut, Just Horny Boy Thoughts), Catcalling (Potentially Triggering Language)

This is written in third person but mainly narrated from Dave's view.

》》》

"I can't believe they had it!" Todd exclaims, gripping the plastic bag in his hand tight. Dave nods, gripping his backpack straps.

"Yeah, we need to start coming here more often. They have everything. We gotta bring Marty with us when he gets back."

Today marked the first day of the boys' last Spring Break. Marty was out of town on a trip to Florida with his family, so this cut down the trio to a duo, Dave and Todd. The two were currently walking along a street on the other side of town than their usual hangout. Todd found a new comic and video game store, and he and Dave figured they'd check it out.

"I can't wait to read it."

"Remember, no spoilers until I pick up my edition too." Dave replied. As they round a corner to get to their bus stop, they are greeted with the sight of a large clearing between buildings.

On the closest side to the boys was a skate park. It had a decent amount of skaters occupying it, echoes of skateboards landing against concrete traveling throughout the park. As the boys walked passed, they could hear the sound of music. The further they walk, the closer the music gets.

The current song that was playing was what Dave imagined rugged bikers with dark sunglasses and handlebar mustaches listened to. Scary and intimidating. It was muddy and grungy and punk and metal? He wasn't well versed enough to really know how to label its genre. Just as one song came to an end, another just like it followed.

He and Todd were both staring at the group surrounding the picnic table that held the speaker. Each one was different from the next, but they all had a similar dark and grungy style.

Something that immediately caught his eye was a black haired girl who took two big steps to get atop the picnic table. As the new song began to pick up, she got into a matching character. As she winded her hips and lip sang to the lyrics, Dave was completely entranced by her. "Woah..."

"Yeah…" Todd absently replies.

Her unnaturally dark hair cascaded down her shoulders and around the curve of her breasts. Her bangs reminded Dave of a toddler who decided to experiment with scissors. They were far too short to be considered "normal", but, Jesus, did she pull them off well.

She had two bows on the sides of her head, one purple and the other an off-white cream color. She wore a black, short sleeve crop top with red writing on it, something Dave couldn't really read clearly from this distance. She had knitted, fingerless gloves on each hand that nearly blended in with her skin tone. Dave's eyes continued to work their way down her legs, finding her thighs covered with light pink, sheer lace shorts that stopped mid thigh. The only thing keeping her "appropriate" were homemade, cut-off jean short shorts.

Dave couldn't help himself; he was captivated. He's never seen anyone dressed like she was, at least not in real life. It was like she stepped right out of an anime. She was incredibly unique. How was she able to pull that off so well?

Dave's eyes wandered down further to get a full view of her exposed, dancing legs. He couldn't help but wonder what it felt like to touch them.

She swiveled her hips in circles as she began to spin and whip her hair to the beat. Dave had this opportunity to move his eyes up, getting a perfect view of her butt, his body lighting up as his heart raced.

She had made a full turn, stopping in the direction of the two boys, catching their stares. Todd immediately turns his head to try and seem captivated by the clouds above, but Dave is not as quick to notice.

"Dave." Todd mumbles, eyes dodging the girl's gaze, darting back and forth from his friend, the ground, and a very (not-so) interesting brick building behind the park. "Dave." Todd repeats, elbowing Dave in the side, finally snapping him out of his hypnosis.

"Ouch!" Dave yelps in surprise, turning to Todd who is looking at him wide eyed, trying to send him a message. Dave looks away from his friend and back to the table dancer. She was staring right at him with squinted eyes. They seem to make eye contact for a solid second before she abruptly lifts a hand to her forehead. She held up her pointer and pinky fingers. The 'rock and roll' symbol she held against her head imitated horns as scrunched her nose, sticking her tongue out like a child. The action shocked Dave, but he couldn't help but find her oddly adorable.

Todd is quick to snatch the handle at the top of Dave's backpack and drag him away to their bus stop at the end of the street. The ride home was a pretty quiet one after that.

》》》

Two weeks have passed since he'd first seen the strange girl. Every spare chance he got during spring break was spent taking advantage of his vigilante skills for the wrong reasons. He had secretly visited that park numerous times, watching his girl and her friend group from afar. He knew that stalking was not how he should've gone about this, but he also didn't see walking straight up to her and introducing himself as an option either.

Something was definitely wrong with him. There is no good reason for him to know where she lives, but he convinced himself it was just to ensure she got home safe. Tonight only enforced that thought.

Usually she would walk home with at least one friend for good measure, but for some unknown reason to Dave, she walked alone.

Today, she had on an extra baggy hoodie. One that he came to know as one of her favorites. It reached the tops of her bare thighs, the hem of her mini skirt just visible below. She wore leg warmers that matched the color of her hoodie and worn combat boots. She had a small backpack that looked like wings on her back, decked out in pins of all kinds. The oversized hood was perched on top of her head.

She was always good about checking her surroundings and looking over her shoulder when walking alone, but this wasn't a matter of a sneak attack.

Dave watched as an older man stepped out in front of his strange girl. Dave couldn't hear the exact dialog due to their distance and the passing people and cars, but he for sure knew that whatever was being said was not welcomed.

"No. Thank you. I'd rather be left alone." Dave heard that loud and clear, so why did this creepy guy not take the hint and leave?

The man abruptly reached for her arm, and gripped it tight. Dave took off in a sprint.

"Get your hands off me, asshole!"

"Don't be a fucking tease-"

"Hey!" Dave cut the guy off, running up behind her. "Didn't you hear what she said, creep? Let her go!" He said firmly. Both the creepy guy and the girl's eyes look over to Dave, both of them giving him a once over. Her eyes were full of confusion, one thinly drawn brow raised. The man scoffed at the kid.

"What the fuck is this?" he shoots back. Dave squares his shoulders and raises his masked chin. "How about you mind your fucking business, princess, before you get hurt." the man follows up, making fun of Dave's costume.

"Let. Her. Go." Dave repeats sternly. The guy laughs in his face.

"Or what, leotard?" Dave follows up by removing the batons from behind his back. He points one at the man.

"Or else I'll have to beat you until you let go?" He says confidently. The girl cringes, that was not nearly as intimidating as he thought it was. The guy laughs again, flicking out a pocket knife. The two men stood there in a stare down. Their pause gave the girl a chance to yank her arm from the man's grasp, simultaneously using her other hand to whip out a pink taser decorated like a mini Gameboy. She shoves the sparked end into the side of the creep's neck, causing him to twitch and spasm. She holds it there until the man falls to the ground twitching, presumably unconscious. She takes her booted foot and jumps into a hard kick to the man's side.

"Fuck you, dipass!" Dave stands there shocked. The girl's gaze switches to face him. He lifts his hands in surrender and slowly puts his batons back. The girl takes one big step closer to Dave. He jumps back, but she is quick to grab one of his hands and begin dragging him down the route of towards her apartment.

They walk a couple blocks and round a corner in silence before she stops abruptly and turns to Dave. He stands there staring, absolutely shell shocked. "Who are you and what do you think you're doing!?" She asks, putting two hands on her hips and resting her weight on one side.

"Uh-" Dave stutters. The girl raises her brows expectantly. "I, uh- I was trying to help you." The girl's brows draw together as she squints.

"Thank you, but, to be honest, you didn't really do much, and that only answered one of my questions."

"Uh, I'm, uh- The name's KickAss." The girl stares at him in disbelief for a good five seconds, searching his eyes for any sense of a joke.

When she doesn't find anything, she lets out a "pfft" and giggles. "You're joking, right?" She raises her brows with a grin.

"Uh, no. I'm not…" Dave's eyes look everywhere but at her.

"I-," giggle, "I'm sorry." Another giggle, " I don't mean to be rude, but KickAss?" Dave smiles nervously, instinctual reaching for the back of his head. "You really need a rebranding, my guy." She says, an amused smile still playing on her lips. Her eyes didn't hold any malice or judgement, just intrigue.

"Yeah, well, I'm obviously not that creative." He laughs nervously. Dave looks back to her, finally getting a proper look at her up close. She's smiling… at him. God, he was going to faint.

"Jesus, your eyes." She says suddenly, catching Dave off guard. "They're gorgeous, my god." She huffs a short laugh, staring into his eyes. Dave can't keep eye contact for long, completely flustered. He thanked the powers that be that he had a mask on at this very moment. He was sure he was as red as ever.

"Thank you." He looks down. "You, uh, your eyes are beautiful, too." He says sheepishly. She laughs, shaking her head.

"Oh, please. They're just a normal, old brown. Nothing compared to your stunners. Wow." She throws back at him. "Well, I appreciate you stepping in, KickAss." She thanks, putting emphasis on his 'name'.

"No problem. You seem to have it handled without me." His illusion of 'stalking for protection' ruined.

"Nonsense! Thankfully, I didn't need you to start a fight this time. The fact that you even stepped in at all when you saw something means a lot, so thank you." She clasps her hands in front of her, swaying side to side.

"Can I walk you the rest of the way?" He asks. She shakes her head.

"As sweet as that is, no, thank you. I don't quite know how I feel about masked men knowing where I live." She teases. "Plus, it's not much further. I'll be okay." She smiles at him, again. Dave can't decide if he wishes she'd stop looking at him or if he wishes she'd keep her gaze on him forever. She begins walking away, "Thanks, again! See you around!" She shouts behind her, turning another corner.

》》》

Two months have passed. Shortly after their first, up close, encounter, Dave made it a point to walk her home every chance he got, always when she was alone. Well, not every time. She started to get suspicious as to how he always knew when she was walking alone. "Are you following me?" She'd ask, Dave giving an unconvincing 'pfft' and a 'no', causing her to roll her eyes. After that, he made sure to space out their walks but still following her from a distance. It's now nearing the end of June, and his graduation date is only a couple weeks out.

This night was a first. She invited Dave in. His eyes widened in shock, "Yeah, sure!" He said a little too enthusiastically, internally cringing at himself, but his awkwardness only caused her to giggle.

She nods, "Okay. My brother is home, so you'll have to sneak in. I'll go in first. Just turn the corner," she points, "and use the fire escape ladder to get to the fourth window up. My window has a collection of ninja turtle action figures on the sill." Dave opens his mouth to say something, but she continues, "Wait there until I come in. I just have to let my brother know I'm home first, then I can disappear into my room." Dave sits his mouth and nods. "Okay, I'll see you up there!" She smiles, jogging into the building.

Dave watches her jog up the stairs until he can't see her anymore. He then makes his way around the building and, as instructed, climbs up the fire escape. He gets to her window with ease. Through the parted curtains, he could see into her dark room. The light in the hallway provided little to illuminate the room from the bottom of the closed door, but thanks to the setting sun, Dave could clearly see the four little trinkets on her windowsill. It made him smile. She was a little nerdy, too.

"Ok, I'll order the pizza!" Before Dave could analyze her room any further, she bursts through the door, tossing her bag on the floor. She turns, closing and locking the door before running up to the window. She throws the curtains open and slides up the window, smiling brightly at him. "Hola."

"Buenas Noches, señorita." Dave says, again cringing at his choice of words, getting a laugh out of her.

"Vamos." She says, stepping aside. He climbs through the window, trying his best to avoid disrupting the figures. "You up for pizza?" She asks once he's fully inside.

Dave nods, looking around at her room. "Yeah, sure."

She smiles up at him, gesturing to her room, "Bienvenido a mi casa." She says dramatically. "Make yourself at home, señor KickAss."

Dave chuckles at her, shaking his head. "Gracias." His accent is still strongly American, but four years of Spanish didn't make it the worst. He goes to sit on the plush bench at the end of her bed. He figured that was a safe bet. He wasn't on her bed, but he also wasn't awkwardly sitting at her desk in the corner of the room. It was a kind of middle ground. His eyes follow her as she goes over to her old school boombox, graffitied with stickers, and turns on some music, low enough for them to hear each other, but just loud enough to disguise their voices from any eavesdropping. "Do I need to worry about your brother?" He asks playfully, deep down a little nervous.

"No, he's playing video games with our cousins online. He can't hear a thing with his-"

"AHHH! NO MAMES WEY!" a scream can be heard, as if on queue, scaring the fuck out of Dave.

She rolls her eyes, continuing, "headphones on." She sits on her bed, crawling over to rest her bare legs on the empty cushion next to Dave. She grabs her laptop that was laying on the bed and opens it up. "What kind of pizza do you like?" She asks, typing away.

"Uh, whatever." He says, unsure.

"Well, guess we can't go wrong with half pepperoni and half cheese." She says, placing the order. "My brother is pretty boring when it comes to pizza." Another scream could be heard in the background, promoting another eyeroll. Dave chuckles a little, nodding.

He twiddles his thumbs before asking, "So, why did you invite me in?" The girl shrugs her shoulders, still typing and clicking away.

"I dunno. You've walked me home nearly everyday for the passed 2 months, and I've grown to trust you. Every time we part ways, I feel the urge to keep you around. I figured it was about time we hung out for more than just a few blocks." She closes her laptop hallway and sets it to the side. His heart flutters.

Dave looks at her stunned. "You want to hang out with me?" The girl squints at him.

"Um, yeeaaah. What kind of question is that?"

"I, uh- I mean- it's just- you know-..." He stutters. She giggles at him.

"What?"

"I mean, you're just so cool, and I'm, you know-"

She looks at him amused. "You're what? A cool vigilante guy who is sweet and funny and someone who should totally should give himself more credit." She bends her legs, nudging him softly with her knee. She scoots down the bed a little to sit closer to Dave, holding her knees to her chest. She uses her oversized sweatshirt to encompass her entire body. Dave looks at her with admiration, his heart racing again, before looking away from her and down at the bench below him. "I don't hear a 'Gracias' or a 'Tienes razón, mi hermosa. Eres muy inteligente y eres la mujer más bella del mundo. Gracias por todo, mi amor.'" She goes on.

Dave laughs, "Thank you. I don't know if you're right, but you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen." Dave says boldly but still avoiding eye contact, looking down at his hands.

The girl's eyes widen, "You speak Spanish?" She looks horrified, embarrassed by the words of praise she tried to get him to say.

"A little." He twiddles his thumbs more, "I've been taking Spanish all throughout high school. I am no expert, but I can get around." He shrugs.

"Welp, that's embarrassing." the girl reaches up to tug hard on the strings of her hoodie, hiding her face in the fabric. Dave looks up and reaches for her hands.

"Que? No 'gracias'?" He teases, trying to get a look at her face. He has no clue what is coming over him, but he is becoming a bit more comfortable. His heart is still pounding, but seeing her get flustered brought his confidence up. She peers out from inside her hoodie. Her wide eyed look nearly floored him. He was forever grateful that he was already seated or else his knees would have buckled.

"Gracias,... señor KickAss." She says playfully, trying to make up for her embarrassment by joking off. He offers her a soft smile, melting her. It was now her turn to avoid his eyes. Her eyes make their way over to the stereo. "So… you're still in high school?" She asks, looking back to him, wearily.

He nods, "Y-Yeah, but not for long." He says quickly, the realization coming quick that they don't actually know each other's ages. "I graduate in like 2 weeks." Her nonexistent brows raise as she nods. "Are you?"

She shakes her head, "No, I tested out, got my diploma early. I couldn't be bothered with high school anymore." She shrugged. Dave's brows shot up. She really was smart. "It's just me and my brother. The earlier I got out of high school, the more time I had. It allowed me to help out with bills and whatever, get us a nicer place." She gestures to the room around her. "I mean, it may not seem like much, but trust me when I say it's a million times better than where we were." She then takes the time to look around and appreciate her surroundings.

Dave's look of admiration returns. "You're amazing." He blurts out. The girl's eyes find him, holding his eye contact, again with this wide eyed stare. She was gonna kill him. Her heart stopped when she looked in his eyes and found nothing but honesty and softness. She gives him a little smile. My god, Dave was literally going to pass out.

》》》

Dave didn't seem to notice, but hours went by with them talking, eating pizza, and talking some more. It was now pitch black outside, and the only light in the room was coming from her bedside lamps and a flickering candle.

By now, both of them had made their way into the bed. Dave was laying on his back, watching the ceiling while she was laying on her stomach perched up on her elbow, watching him. They were currently both comfortably silent, the soft music still playing in the background. She guessed that her brother must have fallen asleep at his console by now, considering there weren't any more frustrating cries or exciting cheers heard from across the apartment. Dave is the first to interrupt the silence between them. "Would it be a terrible idea to take my mask off right now?"

The girl gasps dramatically, placing a hand on her chest, "and reveal your secret identity, Zorro?" She lets out a short laugh, this causes Dave to let out a tired smile.

"I'm being serious." There's a pause.

"Well…" the girl starts, "you know, once you do so, there's no going back. I'm not so much of a bitch that I'd ever expose you, but you know… it's a big step."

"Is it in the right direction?" he asks, turning his head to look over at her. They stare deeply into each other's eyes.

She sighs, "I'm sorry, babe, but that's a decision you'll have to make on your own." The pet name catches Dave off guard. He nods and sits up, causing the girl next to him to follow suit, twisting her body so she's cross crossed and facing him. Dave takes a deep breath and reaches for the back of his mask. Just as his gloved hands meet the fabric, he felt a smaller hand touch his. "Are you sure?... Absolutely positive?"

He doesn't move, "Positive." He replies. She lefts go of his hand and he pulls the mask forward and off his head. He kept his head down for a second, taking in a deep breath. He could feel her eyes staring at the side of his head.

He looks up and turns to her. They make eye contact for a good 3 second before her sleeve covered hands come flying up to her face, covering her eyes. "Oh my god!"

"Oh my god, what?!" Dave panics.

"You're hot!" She exclaims. Wow, did she really know how to throw Dave off. He watches her, shocked. "This feels wrong, oh my god!" She says, muffled by her sleeves. "I should not be seeing this right now." Dave smiles a little. How does she do this? She's just too cute.

He reaches up for her hands, "Well, like you said, there's no going back, babe." He says, pulling her hands down. Her eyes were squeezed shut, scrunching up her face in what Dave thought was the most adorable way. "Oh, don't be a baby. Open your eyes." He says. She squeezes them even harder just before opening them up, like ripping off a bandaid.

She lets out a sigh as her eyes roam over every feature. She takes a moment to just admire his face before giggling when her eyes make their way to his hair. "What?" Dave asked, this time not panicked, but amused.

She giggles some more, smiling wide. "Your hair is a mess." She says finally, biting her smile.

He rolls his eyes, "Yeah, I don't really do face reveals, so I didn't bother thinking of a way to properly tie my hair up under the mask."

She smiles at him softly, her eyes relaxed. She reaches up to touch his cheek. It's warm and a little sweaty from being stuck under a mask for the last several hours. They get lost in each other's eyes. Dave's jaw was slack, lips parted slightly. Her features still held her soft smile.

"I think I love you." Dave says abruptly, taking her aback.

"What?-"

"I just always feel so safe and comfortable around you, and I love how you're so unapologetically yourself, and you are always so kind and beautiful, and I can't help but find myself always thinking about you, and I'm always wondering if you're thinking about me to, which I hope you do, because I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I wasn't on your mind the way you're on mine, and ever since I saw you dancing on that picnic table when Todd and I were walking to the bus stop and you made that weird adorable little devil horn face thing, I knew I just had to know you, like I was drawn to you, and-"

"Wait, that was you?"

Dave ignores get question and continues rambling, "and I know we're just kids, but I can't think of a better way to live life than with you, and I want us to be together. I want to go to see your favorite scary movies with you, even though it confuses me as to why you still go to them when you say they always scar you, and I want to hold your hand and be there for you when you're scared. I want to go see those bands you always talk about in concert with you. I want to learn every lyric to every one of your favorite songs just to impress you when they come on. I want to hold you at night when you've had a bad day and don't know what to do with yourself. I want to keep you safe and always make sure you're happy. I want to be the reason you smile. I want to walk with you forever, stay by your side. I want to fall asleep beside you every night and wake up to you every morning, and I want nothing more than to hear you say you love me and tell me you love me the same way I love you, and I-"

"Dave, shut up!" She says with a smile, her eyes glistening. "Breathe." They both take a deep breath together. "If you keep going, you'll turn blue." They share a small laugh. "Can I kiss you?" She asks.

Without responding, Dave dives forward and kisses her full force. They deepen the kiss, her other hand reaching up to caress his other cheek, his hands resting on the bed, one on each side of her knees.

Without breaking the kiss, Dave moves to readjust. He pulls her closer, moving her to sit in his lap. She follows his lead, getting up to straddle him. Dave wraps his arms around her waist, hugging her closer to him. She arches her back, "accidentally" grinding against him. Dave is first to break the kiss with a gasp, his hands immediately making their way to her hips. She opens her eyes to find Dave's squeezed shut with his eyebrows narrowed together. His blue eyes open to meet hers after a second, both of them breathing heavily, Dave's eyes wide and innocent, looking up at her.

"Sorry." He says, embarrassed that she was able to affect him so easily. She grins, shaking her head.

"Don't be sorry. It's good to know I have such an effect on you." She leans down to rest her forehead on his. She squishes his check together, pushing him down to the bed, his hands finding themselves caressing her now exposed butt from under the mini skirt she still wore. He felt all the blood drain from his head downward. "Should we keep going?" She asks. Dave nods furiously, no longer able to form words.

She leans in slowly to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "I love you, too."

》》》

Moodboard (exposing "y/n") on my page under #weird girl swiss fic

[moibakadesu]

Haruka’s victim of his “murder” was he himself (The suicide theory)

This is a theory that I had since t1 there have been even more points for me to work with (I just never had time/peace of mind to do so), so let’s get into it, shall we?

First of all, as should be obvious from the title, there is a cw for suicide and also one for child abuse and neglect, as well as dead animals because we can’t talk about Haruka without going into these topics.

So what we are going to talk about today is:

Haruka’s victim of his “murder” was he himself

You might wonder now: But how is he walking around in Milgram then? We are looking at a magical song prison that bends the fabric of reality, I don’t think being a sort of purgatory is that much out of the question. I am not one to think that ALL of our current prisoners are dead, but for some it seems like an option. Note Yuno asking so pointedly in her t2 VD “Am I really still alive?” which seemed like a big hint. And also (MILGRAM NOVEL 2 SPOILER) in the second novel there is a part where literally falls the statement of “of course there are people who are already dead, it would be more strange if we wouldn’t have these”. As well as there being a suicide case.

And even if we would not go into that direction, we would still have the option of a failed suicide attempt which resulted in a temporary stopped heart = on paper you can be declared dead. With Milgram’s very loose definition of “being responsible for the loss of a human life” this seems very much like it could qualify as well.

So what gave me the idea that this could be the case for Haruka? The first thing that made my interest perk up was this screen here from Undercover:

In these shots with the silhouettes from the prisoners we presumably have a location where their murder happened or is heavily connected to it. And in some cases we even have the victims present in the shots.

What differentiates the prisoners from their victims is that all prisoner silhouettes have this gray hatching on them while their victims are a solid black color (it’s a bit unclear with Kazui, because he and Hinako are pretty small in his scene).

So with that in mind what falls to attention in Haruka’s shot? Yes, he is a solid black.

And that sprung the idea of: what if Haruka is the victim?

Well, he is, in more sense than one, but we are only concentrating on his “murder” for now.

Let’s now go through his first MV Weakness with this in mind, because it is already ripe with a lot of possible suicidal imagery. We won’t go over his first VD, because … well, there are simply no real hints in that one yet.

Weakness analysis

Right away at 0:08 we start with a scene transition of Haruka sinking into water. As you are probably all aware water is a big recurring theme with him, it draws itself through his MVs as well as being present in image material and merchandise related to him. Prior to ending up in Milgram he was also living in the city Niigata, which is literally called “the city of water”. So we can assume that it is of pretty big significance to his character.

The overall imagery of drowning and suffocating also appears repeatedly with him, so my assumptions of how he might have taken his life are either by, well, drowning or by hanging himself (due to imagery we will later get to in AKAA).

At 0:41 we have Haruka pushing his younger self into a “scribble-puddle”, leading us to another transition of Haruka once again sinking into the watery depths.

I think this is both a representation of Haruka’s loathing and jealousy of his younger self which still was somewhat loved by his mother until his disabilities became too noticeable to be ignored as well as an actual stand-in for killing yourself.

At this point let’s talk a little bit about the little girl that is assumed to be Haruka’s victim, shall we?

Well, in a broad sense we can say: yes, she is his victim. But the twist is this, recently I saw a theory that made a big amount of sense to me, especially taken in account with the suicide theory. Basically, I think the little girl never existed in reality. She was just a figment of Haruka's imagination, a sort of “Imaginary friend”, his idealized version of what “Haruka” should have been. We know from his t2 interrogation questions that his mother always wanted a girl instead of a boy, going so far as to picking the name beforehand and not changing it even after she knew she was expecting a boy.

I could even imagine that his mother might have tried to raise him as a girl up to a certain age, her terrible overall parenting surely gives me the impression that she would do something that twisted.

So Haruka’s delusion of “his perfect loveable self” might have intermingled with himself taking his life. Because something that always threw me off was that in the end of AKAA when we get the split second of him strangling the girl it is clearly a grown up Haruka putting his hands on her neck. But in Weakness they are around the same age apparently. Why is this? Well, of course the “perfect little girl his mother wanted” would stay a little girl forever in his mind.

So he is fully convinced that he killed that girl, in his mind she was real after all.

This might be completely off the mark, but even if it is, I still could imagine Haruka taking his life after having committed the murder of the girl. Going over his second VD again personally I am leaning more towards the option that the girl was his little sister, with how much attention he puts on it having been a murder out of jealousy.

But the lyrics going along with him pushing the girl in Weakness could also allude to the possibility of that “imaginary girl” theory.

And right here at 1:20 down in the water we go again, directly after the scene above.

And at 2:05 we are at the well known stone smashing scene. The action in the screen is not the main point in this case though, here we have the first appearance of the lyrics of:

Haruka usually doesn’t consider the abuse received by his mother as bad, any attention received from her is good attention in his eyes, so he wouldn’t see himself as a victim for that, right?

So what could it imply?

Maybe becoming your own victim?

Because a lot more importantly, these lyrics make another reappearance right away. When?

When Haruka strangles his younger self. (Right after another “falling in water” scene at that.)

And at the end we literally have Haruka kneeling over his dead self, admitting that “it was me”.

It is also important to note that this is the only instance in the MV where he is not waking up in his bed again.

So that is all already plenty to go from, isn’t it? But don’t worry, there will be plenty more. (Or do worry, my heart cries daily for poor Haruka.)

To go chronologically let us look at his second VD:

Metamorphosis of the Weak

This will be quick, we only have to take a look at the very end here where Haruka comes up with his suicide threat. It’s his first instinct after threatening to kill Es and becoming aware again that he can’t do that. He is making that statement with astounding ease, almost as if … he went through with it before. He knows he is capable of doing it, so he is certain and confident of himself.

On that note, I am like 99,9% certain that he won’t be successful with whatever attempt he might be starting, there will be an intervention or a reason why it’s not possible of some sort. It will most likely go against Milgram’s purpose of judging these prisoners, so it won’t be allowed that somebody escapes proper judgment by putting an end to themselves. (MILGRAM NOVEL 2 SPOILERS: Jackalope in the novel also makes a point of this, saying that the prisoners there are disposable only after they have been judged.)

But I wrote a whole post about all the reason I am certain they won't kill him off in the middle of the trials, if you want feel free to read up on that as well!

So without further ado let us go to Haruka’s second MV:

All knowing and all Agony analysis

We start at 0:12 with Haruka in his solitary confinement, the room getting flooded with water.

Here we are again with the theme of him getting submerged in water.

And the next scene of him submerged in water right here at 0:35 in the mirror (btw. I love the direction of this MV, the blurred writing appearing in the mirror like it is getting drifted ashore by the water being one of the parts of this).

Now here at 1:29 we have a very interesting scene.

Sadly AKAA is riddled with a very spotty translation of the lyrics that doesn’t convey the meaning a lot of times or even leaves out some things.

This part here is the perfect example, the more fitting translation here would be: “if with the push of one button I could be reborn”

The translation exchanges the reborn with reset which doesn’t really carry the same meaning in this context, being reborn is something that you get after dying. I don’t think this is a coincidence at all. Also important detail here is that we have the frames with the butterfly specimens on the wall. The butterfly is a symbol of death and rebirth as well. This goes well with the name of Haruka’s second VD, because “metamorphosis” is the term for the transformation that a butterfly undergoes in the cocoon.

And here another important part that gets lost in translation:

In Japanese it would more correctly translate to “I don't want to die, I don’t want to die”.

Because, yes, I do think that Haruka committed suicide. Do I think that he did it because he wanted to die? No, that was not the main objective for him. In my opinion it was either, like before mentioned, to be reborn so that he can be a more loveable self in the next life or it was the last final desperate cry for attention from his mother after even killing the target of his jealousy didn't give the desired results.

It probably also ties in with his situation in Milgram, he does not want to die, to get wiped out, but his death is once again the only means to an end that he can see in this situation, in this case forcing an innocent vote for Muu with his life as the bargaining chip. (And well, we all know how well that gamble turned out for him ...)

And then at 2:09 we have the scene of Haruka standing on the chair.

You know what people often stand on chairs for? Hanging themselves. Doesn’t help that the barred up window in the back sort of alludes to the rope of a noose the way one of the bars is placed directly behind of him.

And here once more, with the infamous “dreaMu” line.

As I mentioned before, I suspect his pre-Milgram suicide was by drowning, but these images could very well allude to his threat spoken in the prison to secure Muu’s innocent vote. I personally wonder how Haruka could even be aware of this option to take his own life, because I can hardly imagine him having knowledge about this with his “sheltered” lifestyle, but who knows. 

Good luck attempting that in the prison though, as far as I am aware there are no fixtures there that would allow for it, and we are talking about a person that can’t even tie his own shoes, let alone tie a noose that would hold up his whole body weight.

Here we also have another very bad translation choice, and I’m not talking about the “dreaMu”. No, the problem is that they just didn’t include the whole second part of that line which would be “and spread my wings wide”, perfectly going along with Haruka spreading his arms like wings.

As if to take flight. This could be calling back to the butterfly symbolism as well as jumping, “taking flight”, from the chair …

And at 3:00 we reach another part of the MV where Haruka gets submerged in fluid. But this time it’s not water.

We have seen this fluid before in the MV, notably when the preserved animals started “melting”.

Preservation is the important word here, because this fluid is most likely formaldehyde (or formalin), used to preserve dead bodies. Fun fact, this is technically not the first time we see it, it might be present in Weakness as well.

This bottle here right at the beginning looks a lot like bottles that get used to store it. It is also a clear fluid before it comes into contact with what gets preserved.

As to why Haruka has knowledge about this sort of thing is, that I could imagine that his mother had to do with animal specimen preservation, either as a hobby or for work, so he is familiar with the function of it. On that note, he might even have started killing animals to bring his mother more bodies for her hobby/work and to be praised for it.

So we are closing the MV with Haruka sitting and swaying in his “formaldehyde tank”, the very substance in which dead things are preserved, repeating the lines of wanting to be reborn to be the favorite next time, in his next life basically.

(Oh my sweet boy, you don’t have to try so hard, you are already my favorite.)

And this is it, my theory that Haruka is literally a dead boy walking in this prison.

My heart bleeds for him, because for him it’s absolutely impossible to get any sort of happy end at the finale of Milgram and I think he would have deserved the world. Just a family that would have supported and understood him properly, a way more normal life, how his biggest wish is.

[goqmir]

so for Marenrow: City of Secrets (my custom magic set), wren and i have made all of the two-color signpost draft uncommons except two (18 total!). the final two to make are for the white/blue draft archetype, and have proven themselves the most difficult to make, because the archetype is such a novel idea. id like to explain the archetype and how it would work in this post, and maybe anybody that is so inclined could think of and share ideas for the cards or tell me their opinion on the archetype itself :)

so the red/blue and white/blue color pairs are "working together" in my set; they are two separate groups of scientists and wealthy nobles/politicians respectively, and the scientists control the nobles (the red/blue group is in charge of the white/blue group, in essence). the theme of the red/blue group in Marenrow is flipping coins for value, and so i think it would be cool for the white/blue group, their followers, to flip coins too.

so, the white/blue group's archetype is "flipping coins to determine two related outcomes on their cards", or what in my head i refer to as "coin control". this means that every white/blue instant and sorcery has "flip a coin" before its text, and could do one of two different things based on the outcome. furthermore, white/blue creatures would have "when this enters the battlefield, flip a coin" and would do different things based on the outcome too. for permanents, it doesnt necessarily have to be an enter-the-battlefield thing, and could instead be on like, attack triggers, card draw, maybe two different static abilities and only one is activated at all times based on the initial flip, stuff like that.

the idea here is that for the two modes, one is usually interaction, and the other is usually value. or to generalize further, when you win the flip, it should harm your opponents, and when you lose the flip, it should help you. the idea here is that both modes are good, and this creates a novel form of card compaction; every card is both an interaction piece and a value piece, but you cant control which half you get. the random nature will be hopefully offset by the cards being generally strong, so either way you get good solid results when you cast the card most of the time.

this differs from the red/blue archetype, because red/blue will flip coins more often, will care more about winning flips rather than getting value from win or lose, and notably has cards with triggered abilities that trigger when coins are flipped or when coin flips are won, which specifically wont be the case for white/blue. white/blue does not care about the coin flips themselves, it just uses them as pure card compaction, while red/blue's entire thing is cards that trigger when coins are flipped.

heres the main question: is this a good idea? does this sound like a fun, interesting, and novel archetype of deck to play? furthermore, is this too similar to the red/blue archetype? are they not unique enough? id love some opinions on this. the answer is obviously "make some cards and try it out" but like. vibes alone, does this sound interesting, fun, and valuable enough to make cards for, or should i change it somehow, or scrap it altogether for a different concept?

furthermore, id love if anyone shared any ideas they might have for cards if theyre so inclined! the cards would be templated something like "flip a coin. if you won, [interact with you opponent]. if you lost, [do value (make tokens, gain life, draw cards, untap permanents, etc etc etc)]." to make the cards fun and cohesive, the cards should probably have related abilities for each mode, ie "if you won, tap two permanents an opponent controls" and "if you lost, untap two permanents you control" yknow something in that flavor and vibe. im blanking a little on ideas for cards, so if anyone is so inclined to share their thoughts, id love to hear it! most suggestions for the set have made it into the current product or future plans in one way or another, so its very worthwhile :)

thank you for reading my big long ramble teehee im glad to finally have put a lot of these thoughts into words

[gattnk]

Rector Cassidy and Rector Kubral will do what they must. They'll soldier on to the end.

I'm currently working on the redesigns for the Golden School staff; normally I would've started with Arkan and Temptel, but believe it or not Cassidy and Kubral were my first redesigns for this project! Yes, they precede even Raf and Sulfus in my sketchbook. I like to start with villains first when designing casts, since they tend to give me more wiggle room to be creative: this way I get to set the bar for the rest of the project, and I can make my heroes just as visually interesting. Here's my usual notes on the process:

The first step was understanding the characters and their motivations. Once I had their personalities and roles established, I could work on their appearance. I decided Kubral would embody brutality, and Cassidy, fear.

The themes stem from their origins: war is forever linked to brutality and fear as both causes and effects, so it makes sense that two generals personify them, since they too are both products and promulgators of war.

Kubral was easy enough to figure out. Heavy-looking square shapes, towering height accentuated by even taller horns, meaty claws that could snap you like a twig... As a whole, Kubral was based on gothic grotesques. I was also particularly inspired by Goliath from Disney's Gargoyles (his wings folding behind him like a cape is peak character design I tell you). All in all I simplified his original design to his most iconic features, with the addition of a forked beard as a symbol of power and authority.

Cassidy's design had to be much more subtle: fear is a thing that creeps on you, it catches you off-guard and overpowers you. My use of lean curves with sudden sharp angles is meant to represent just that. I included an eye motif to evoke an ever-present state of vigilance and paranoia; the eyes are also a callback to prophetic descriptions of angels, since I was very inspired by medieval stained glass at the time. This is the closest thing to a religious reference you'll get from me here!

I established early on in my creative process that, as angels and devils age, they gain new physical traits. Cassidy's carved halo and double pair of wings are a sign of her age and power. In Kubral's case, there's his tail and enlarged horns, wings and claws.

Cassidy's colors are derived from Raf's: blue, gold and white, sans the touch of red. The only "red" in Cassidy's color scheme is her faded ginger hair (no matter how much time passes, the enemy is still in her head). Her gloves and dark blue shirt underneath her white jacket symbolize her veiled intentions, and her shoes, the same shade as her shirt, represent the dark path she threads.

Kubral's hues are all shades of red (except for his hair, same principle as Cassidy's). This includes his eyes; you could say he "sees red" all the time. He's a straightforward character, so he doesn't conceal his old medals, his general rank proudly displayed on his chest. Still, Kubral is not just brawns, his cruelty motivates his more scheming side. He keeps an ace on his sleeve, or more accurately, his pocket: the tip of his tail is always hidden on his right side, so he may strike his enemies on their left with it.

Phew! If you think I overthink my character designs sometimes, you should see my scene notes regarding architecture lol. Still, I'm proud of my process with these two! For now they've only briefly appeared in my rewrite fic, but they'll get their moment to shine soon enough. Their plans will be certainly different from Season 2, so there's that to look forward to!

I'll Fly With You (rewrite fic) Art masterpost

[iceprincessviviane]

Chapter 4 - It's a cleaning day.

Heritage series.

Pairing: Poly!BTS (Demons) x Female!Shy!Skinny!Chosen!Reader

Type: dark romance, horror au, soulmate au, poly relationship, slowburn, yandere.

Warnings: Horror themes, some religion themes (mostly demonic), gore, blood, manipulation, witchcraft, magic themes, death (side characters), mentionings of forced marriage, mentioning about past, loss, yandere, obsessive, possessive, swearing, low self-esteem,dealing with grief, sugestive content and silly jokes created by me. (If there is more to add let me know.)

Previous chapter. Next chapter.

Summary: such a big mansion needs cleaning and this is the time, Y/N will take that challenge. Also having a company during that seems like nice idea.

Author's note: That chapter can be little boring, but I love diving into details in such stories 😌 English isn't my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes.

MINORS DNI

Next day started slowly, Y/N woke up around 9 a.m with cat still resting near her legs unbothered and curled. She carefuly got up, trying not waking it up and went straight into bathroom to take a shower. Today'll be a day when she is going to take care of mansion. The supplies were filled and she had a car on herself, so nothing was staying in a way. When she went out wearing nothing but sweatshirt, pants and lavender scent, cat lifted it's head then stretched gracefully. They both reached big kitchen when he got a bowl filled with fish and another one with water and Y/N made herself fruit salad. She also checked the list, today was a clearing day, mostly vaccuming and removing dust from the shelves in her room, than clean the bathroom. Cat jumped at her lap and demanded headscratched, which she gladly provided after ending the eating.

"I'm going to call you Ash." Y/N decided and animal just tilted it's head to right. "Your fur remind me of it's color."

The pet's head tilted a little to right, like he was thinking about that, but then nuzzled head into her hand. She smiled and got that as acceptance. After the breakfast cat was allowed outside, when Y/N took vaccum, some rubbers and broom upstairs to her room. The cleaning went smoothly, the most took main area of the masterbedroom, along with it's shelves. The bathroom was suprisingly clean, so she headed to the next room. Till the noon the cleaning lasted, she was suspecting that anyway the unused rooms will again gather dust, but at least any stains or another dirty things'll be gone. Probably the specialist from goverment is used to work with little dust. The biggest challenge will be the main room in 0 level and library. Y/N made herself a break and prepare lunch for herself and Ash, but despite opening doors, the cat was missing. She was slighty worried, something could happen to him or he just left. The cats have their own paths.

Lunch wasn't big but it was a chance for her to take a breath before cleaning the last room on this side. It was a first one - office, with a lot of shelves, that big and old desk with drawers. Y/N tried to clean it carefuly and it came out that some of the drawers are closed and around were no keys. Maybe they were in the ring given by the mayor? It was to check later. Actually she could work here to prevent dust coming here again. The desk was spacious, her laptop and work things would fit perfectly. The clearing ended in late afternoon with also vacuuming big hall on the parter and then Y/N ate a dinner, for supper left once again snadwiches.

When she wanted to go nap a little, the entry phone has ringed. There was also camera to check who's outside and maybe don't bother to go whole way to the gate. To her surprise, outside were two men, one holding something looking like cooking sheet and another one currently looking at camera. She pressed button to talk, said quickly 'coming' then changed shirt to clean one and got outside.

Through gate metal rods Y/N could see them more clearly two visitors, closer one had to her surprise thin, but long coat followed by jeans and lether shoes. His skin was very pale and dark grey, longer hair almost reaching the shoulders. Taller than her and bigger, was holding serious expression. The cookies guardian had brown lether jacket and also jeans but looked more sports, had black raven hair, but cut short in modern style. He was thinnier and looked more deftly. On his was has huge smile and simple glasses. Indeed in his hands were cooking sheet. Y/N came closer with unsure steps and hesitant smile.

"Good morning!" Second one said with happy tone, causing his company to focus on a gate.

"Hi, what's the matter?" She asked in polite voice and open the gate door.

"We've heard that you are new here, so my boyfriend conviced me to come here and say hi, also hand over some of our cookies." The first said in calm and slow tone.

"That's true, actually everyone is saying that I'm new here." Y/N admitted shyly.

"Yea, the words are spreading fast, we just wanted to be nice."

"I'm Hoseak and that grumpy cat over here is Yoongi."

"Thank you, I'm Y/N L/N." They've exchanged the handshake.

"How's everything? It had to be a big change." Yoongi asked looking at the mansion.

"It was a surprise, but I'm trying to catch up with everything here, it's so new and actually quite interesting."

"We are renting cozy cabinet in the woods so it's different." Hoseok admitted and smiled. "Here there are homemade cookies, I hope you'll like them." He said and showed chococlate sweets.

"Oh thank you, but I'm afraid it's too much."

On the sheet were at least twenty. Simple with pieces of chocolate. He handed them over to her and smile has never left his face.

"If you are going to need something we can help. Living alone in such mansion as a woman can be overwhelming. Also it's age doesn't help." Yoongi offered generously.

"Once again thank you, but I'm doing fine for now. Also another residents offered me help, it's so nice. I'm not alone, I just found a stray cat and things are going all right I guess." Y/N smiled nervously.

Couple exchanged soft looks and Yoongi nodded. They seem so different, she could never guess that they were together. They were like sun and moon. The thought strike her a little, she looked at necklace, which was always with her. Men's gaze followed but she failed to notice.

"It's good to have even animal company." Yoongi said and his lips twitched.

"Oh yes, actually your hair's color remind me of Ash fur."

"Oh don't even say thay, Hobi is calling me a cat just enough times." He rolled his eyes and his boyfriend giggled softly.

"It's because you're cat darling. You like to sleep whole day, eat and when eveything is quiet. You also don't really like water."

Y/N smiled at their little bittering. It was so wholesome and calming. "Are you here on holidays?"

"Yes kind of. I'm professional dancer and Yoongi is a music producer." Hoseok explained happily.

"I think, I can imagine how you both met for the first time." She giggled softly.

"Yea, we met at work. Anyway, we just wanted to say hi and see, if you need something. We are going to go. Also be careful, becauae the weather is going to be moody this week."

"Thanks, I hope we can meet maybe in town if you want." She summed up.

They bid their goodbyes and Yoongi left his number in any case. It was so surprising and she was truly touched by all those good people living here and wanting to help her. Usually in those small towns new persons are treating with distance, but she didn't have any of it during talking with mayor or even Namjoon. That was a huge relief actually. Y/N went inside the mansion and left open kitched doors, hanging on chain, if Ash would like to come back. Now when the mansion was slight cleanier, she wanted to look at books, which should be catalogued and maybe try to open the cellars. She went upstairs to also check her laptop and wi-fi tomorrow she wanted to start a work. Her phone ringed with "mayor" name caller, she picked it up immediately.

"Good evening miss L/N. Sorry to interrupt that late."

"Good evening sir. It's okay I wasn't doing anything important."

"I got to know, that government found a specialist, but unfortunately he's abroad. He'll probably be able to show up in the next week if not later." Mayor said with slighty sad tone.

"I'm glad that we are moving with a case. If we cannot speed that it's fine." She said with small smile.

"I will keep you informed miss. Have a good night."

"Goodnight sir."

Her words were a truth, it's good if everything is moving forward even with small steps. After checking the internet connection and setting up her files and noted she went to eat something. Y/N spotted Ash sitting in main hall. Pet just cleaned itself and jumped off the sofa, to greet her. She petted cat's head softly, then going to kitchen. He followed her, but didn't seem hungry, only sipped some water. In that forested area cat could hunt something. She ate the sandwiches then closed all the doors and checked them along with windows. Y/N had Yoongi'a words in mind about the moody weather. After that she headed upstairs to get ready to sleep, cat followed her graciously. The warm shower was all she needed after whole day of cleaning. When she stepped out of the bathroom, Ash was already on the bed stretching. It's when loud bang came to their ears, cat almost jumped at the spot, when Y/N frowned and looked at the closed doors. She put on bathrobe, too a flashlight and phone into a pocket. It needed to be checked. Woman took a deep breath and stepped out of her room turning on light, which also switched up down below. It was the dim one, she didn't want to turn on proper ones. The mansion was drowning in silence, the noise earlier was loke something metal falling on the floor. Ash once again followed her with silent steps and looking down below. Y/N slowly went down by the stairs looking around but everything seemed normal. She wasn't going to yell 'is someone there?' like in those cheap horrors, it was sure that all doors and windows were closed. She was only in kitchen before so they went there. Behind the shadows were shifting and dancing, but one cat's gaze was enough to calm them. In the kitchen was clear what happend. Some bowls fell off from the cabinet without doors and it caused the whole noise. Y/N frowned she didn't even touched those during making supper. She sighed and put them on their place.

"The false alarm." She smiled to Ash and went back with him to her room.

The lonely lamp inside was left turned on in any case. Cat curled around her feet once again after staring intensly into dark places in the room. The night was calm and silent.

Taglist:

@lalavione1309 @hadesnewpersephone @00ihatesnaku @bangtan1325

[drowninginships]

An Ask Game for Writers to Procrastinate Working on Your WIP(s)

First of all, thank you soooo much to @monbons and @valeffelees for tagging me, I nearly had a whole breakdown over how nice this fandom is and how good it feels to be included in something like this. Yall are the sweetest, thank you <3 1. 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s): Uhhhh, yall name your WIPs beforehand? I currently have two documents titled "nose ring simon" and "wing fic" and I typically title it just before I post it.

2. 🍄Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of “___ + ___ =___” I think you'll find this is a pretty easy formula for most, if not all, of my fics. Simon + Piercing + Baz Horny. Alternatively, Simon + Wings = Baz Horny. Sensing a theme?

3. 🌍What tags or warnings will one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it? Explicit tags, for sure. It'd be pretty funny to tag the wingfic as monsterfucking, so I'll probably do that, but otherwise, nothing crazy going on here. Just boys very much in love.

4. 🧭An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)? "wing fic" often affectionately gets called "how the fuck do wings work" or "goddamn motherfucking physics"

5. ⚠️Which WIP you're most likely to finish or update next? Definitely the piercing one. The wing fic isn't cohesive or coherent at this time, and it's more of a collection of scenes rather than a whole fic, anyway. I'm having a lot of fun writing the piercing one!!!

6. 💾What is your document of your WIP/ a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as) Please see answer #1. It's truly mind boggling to know that some of yall are out here naming WIPs.

7. 🖍Post Any sentence(s) from your WIP.

Of course it's gold. Everything about Simon is gold. His mind, his body, his soul. The color of his skin and his hair when the sun shines through it from behind. The small loop now adorning his nostril.

8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP. For wing fic, I was trying to figure out a way to make an au scene where everyone has wings, and I could do a little, like, wing caretaking session? But I couldn't find a solid enough reason for everyone to have wings, and also I realized I just didn't care enough about that scene to pursue it further.

9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet? I find this question particularly difficult. I don't know that there are any stories I want to tell, right now. Usually when I want to write something, I schedule it in and I do it. Right now, there's nothing on the back-burner.

10. 🤡How many WIPS are you actively working on? Only the 2! I'm not usually one to work on multiples at a time.

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now? Re: "goddamn motherfucking physics," I've never been super into fantasy or a fandom that particularly liked wings, so I genuinely have no clue how these things work. I took on this project as a gift for @valeffelees after he lamented the lack of wing fics for him to devour, and while I'm not an expert, I'm certainly trying my best. But like, the anatomy??? of a wing???

12. ❤️Not a question, just a second Kudos to send. Again, thank you both so much for tagging me. You're exactly who I would have tagged here, so instead of tagging you both again, I'll tag @thewholelemon even though I know you've already filled this out <3 Also, I'll tag @chaoticgaywitch @iamamythologicalcreature @youarenevertooold @beastmonstertitan and @brilla-brilla-estrellita because you all played our stupid little poetry game and brought me a lot of joy!

[leporellian]

what opera would you adapt so that everyone was played by beanie babies. also what characters would be what beanie baby

unfortunately i could probably cast every single opera with beanie babies. there are so many of them, in both directions, and i could very easily do it to the point that if you just said 'cast (whatever opera) with beanie babies' i could do it. (however i do distinctly think i would have more fun if given leeway to pick any stuffed animal...)

however i feel like making this simple so here goes: don giovanni with beanie babies

the don himself is fredrick the fox:

first off, this is one of the modern beanie babies (not a beanie boo, mind you, which is a separate line) so this thing is everywhere, which i feel like fits the vibe. it's also cute enough you could take it home but not cute enough that you would feel safe divulging secrets to it. (the eyes... they don't got any light in them.) finally i feel like the don Has to be a fox because it has that delicious sort of reynardian quality about it.

leporello is ears the rabbit:

ears is the only beanie baby rabbit that was produced in this lying down pose. which gives it this utterly defeated quality every time a photo is taken of it because its head sort of angles towards the ground and the arms buckle around the head like it has a migraine and it's just sort of an unfortunate scene. obviously therefore this thing has to be leporello.

donna elvira is specifically this promotional arlene beanie baby from garfield the movie (2004)

this is a frankly gorgeous beanie baby in terms of execution, pose, fabric/plastic color choices... and its been typecast into being The Bitch Wife character, which is i feel like really meta-textually perfect for what we are dealing with here. there's also the added context of this being a promotional plush toy (of a side character! an accessory!) that was meant to be discarded as soon as garfield the movie (2004) was no longer being marketed. so. yeah

donna anna is caw the crow:

usually i like making anna something horse-themed because like, really considering everything that feels like the best pick. HOWEVER something about caw the crow gets me. this one was released before beanie babies had poems and birthdays so the inside of its card was just... blank except for its name. also apparently multiple people have reported being a little creeped out by it. so i feel like its the best fit

don ottavio is hydrant the dalmatian:

this thing makes me laugh. this is meant to be a firefighting dog. however the poem and the general look of it scream anything but that. they gave this thing the face of a newborn sock. there is no way. There is No Way. another funny thing is that hydrant the dalmatian was a 'beanie babies 2.0', a more 'updated' beanie baby that was basically just a shameless webkinz clone because that was what was in vogue in 2008. now if you get a hydrant beanie baby, this advertised feature no longer works bc the site was shut down long ago. this is a reference to don ottavio's broken promises

zerlina is spring the rabbit:

i am cheating a LITTLE BIT because technically currently 'beanie bellies', which this is a product of, is a separate line from 'beanie babies'. however they initially sold as 'beanie babies' and were then spun off into something separate so this to me is fair game. this has all the overly-cutesy trappings of the modern beanie babies without looking too fake (except for ty warner not knowing rabbits don't have paw pads) HOWEVER at the same time i think this thing absolutely would wield a knife and start advancing on me in a toy story universe which fits what i am looking for

masetto is snort ii the bull:

another really new beanie baby but not nearly as cutesy as the one above and more self-explanatory. however its weirdly shaped face (and? disproportionate bead eyes?) means i cannot take this thing seriously in the slightest without feeling like a 7 year old is staring at me about to ask if i have games on my phone. so. yeah.

not counting the commendatore bc he's onstage for 5 minutes but if you REALLY wanted you could probably make him one of the very early pre-poem beanie babies. The statue is still inexplicably a statue, because I am a man of law

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

GUYS I'VE OFFICIALLY LOST IT-

So. Awhile ago, I saw this post, right? Basically it just said that Sera and Sir Pentious' cards have very similar compositions, and that Seraphim, which is what Sera is, are often associated with serpents. Interesting, but could still be a coincidence, right?

So anyways I checked the reblogs and saw somebody say they should kiss. And now I'm insane.

Because like... the only thing we know really about Sir Pentious' potential story arc in the show is that he's gonna have a crush on one of the other characters. And the only thing confirmed about his sexuality(to my knowledge) is that he is attracted to women. We don't really have any way to know who his crush is, because there are a lot of women in Hazbin Hotel, but could still be noteworthy, right? And like... okay this is gonna sound like the most "trust me, bro" evidence I could possibly pull out of my ass at first but I just need you to hear me out here, okay? Sera's crown and Sir Pentious' hat have a lot of visual similarities. Here's a helpful diagram :)

Which like. Okay. Could literally be nothing, right? Except for two small things that I can't let go of: One, Sir Pentious' goggles + the v-shaped brim on his hat were added to his design AFTER he was given a more prominent role in the show-

(Pilot design, back when he was meant to be a one-off villain of the week vs current design as a member of the main cast)

And two, the Hellaverse shows kind of have a tendancy to use visuals in order to signify characters' relationships to eachother. It's also just a pretty popular form of symbolism as a whole tbh, but the Hellaverse has a lot of really good examples. Like, for instance, how Vaggie's new outfit is a lot closer to Charlie's color pallette than any of her previous designs, or this really good breakdown by @/raeynbowboi about the symbolism of hearts in Hazbin Hotel and how they pertain to Angel Dust/his relationships! It's from awhile ago so some of the info is a tad outdated, but overall I do think the analysis holds up. Meanwhile, in Helluva Boss, Moxxie and Millie have basically the same color pallette and they were the most functional relationship in the entire show before before Fizzmodeus came along. Which, speaking of those two...

See, I made this diagram because, after I pointed out the similarities between Sera and Sir Pentious' headgear to my dad and asked him if those kinds of similarities were a valid form of analysis(because I am but a humble highschooler that doesn't know everything about media analysis, and also I felt like I was losing my mind-), my dad said that I should look at the creator's(Vivziepop's) other works to see if couples having similar motifs was a recurring theme. So obviously, I picked my favorite couple in either show and disected their designs for every little detail that could maybe possibly be an intentional parallel. And while some of it is kind of iffy, like Fizz's limbs being the same kind of blue as Ozzie's tufts could just be a way to show that Ozzie made them, or both of them having uh, two things sticking off of their head(that one's definitely a reach-), I think stuff like both of them having hearts as a recurring detail in their designs or having lITERALLY THE SAME EYE COLOR??? Are pretty good evidence that Viv/the Hellaverse design team tend to use visuals to signify characters relationships.

ALSO!!!! If the Fallen Angel Vaggie theory ends up being true, there could be some interesting parallels to draw between Chaggie and Sera/Sir Pentious! Something about like... demon royalty/random angel vs angel royalty/random demon. Could be used to draw parallels between how the two societies treat that kind of thing idk.

So, now that all the meta evidence is out of the way, we can get down to what really matters: would these two work as a couple? Do their personalities mesh well togther? And the answer to that is!

IM SORRY FOR USING THE GIF IT WAS A GOOD JOKE IN MY HEAD BUT TYPING THIS OUT IDK IF IT'S ACTUALLY FUNNY-

But in all seriousness, I don't actually know. We just... haven't seen enough of Sera to know for sure. In fact, this whole theory is based off of small details that definitely add up to SOMETHING, but could very well be pieces to some very different puzzles that I'm trying to shove together because somebody jokingly suggested that they would fit. Like, the parallels really COULD mean something, and it COULD have something to do with Sir Pentious having a crush on another character, but like. There could also be a million other answers to both of those questions, y'know? I also have a tendancy to make wild conspiracy theories about genuinely inconsequential details... I almost never talk about them publically, but still. Though I will say, based off of Sera's description in the leaks, I could definitely see a world where she bounces off of Sir Pentious pretty well. Her description in the leaks very much gave me uh... Isabela cover of Surface Pressure vibes, y'know? Shit that is- that is a weird way to describe that but most people on here have seen Encanto right? Y'all get it? And Sir Pentious is both a Victorian Gentleman Type and completely unhinged. Like... idk there's something there. I could maybe see it working. But at the end of the day, it's just too early to tell.

That being said I WILL be trying to pump out some fanart of these two before the actual show comes out and crushes my crackshipping dreams. Also their ship name is either SeraPentious or PentSera I can't decide.

Edit: Wait a second... SeraPent. Serpent. PUN!!!!!!!!!! Okay I think I'm going with SeraPent-

[the-bloody-sadist]

If you don't mind, can I ask, what are your top 10 (or top 7) favorite media (can be books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series)? Why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before......Thanks....

Thank you for asking! I had one person who sent me an ask related to this and then deleted it before I could answer (I think I scared them away yelling at other people in my asks 😂).

So here we go, a compiled overview of my TOP TEN FAVORITE MEDIA!! Some will be current that could change (like songs, ever changing) and others will be permanent (like shows).

NBC's Hannibal [Show]: It shouldn't come as a surprise that this is my top favorite piece of media of all time. Not to do the whole 'I liked it before it was mainstream' but I FOUND IT WHEN IT WAS STILL RELATIVELY CULT-LOVED AND GOT INTO IT WHEN IT WAS ON AMAZON PRIME VIDEO. THE FANDOM FELT TINY ❗️ Anyway, I'm so glad to see how far it's come and how the fandom has grown. This remains one of the only series that was cancelled that I couldn't tell was actually cancelled because it still wrapped up so nicely in the last-aired season. I'm endlessly impressed with the character arcs, the dynamics, the PSYCHOLOGY (a huge deal for me), and especially the dialogue. I mean, I could list literally every element of this show and how tastefully it was used, but the main highlights are how artfully the gore is shown - giving great perspective of the killers whose eyes we mainly see through - and the dialogue. There's a surrealist tone to it, and so many of the lines are subtle poetry without being the hamfisted one-liners of so many other shows that try to do the same. The actors are incredible, the scenes are precisely paced, and just overall you can tell this was a work of the heart. I mean, more superficially, the homoerotic nature of Hannibal and Will's relationship appealed to me as soon as it was introduced, because GODS is it miles higher in chemistry than like ACTUAL EXISTING so-called LGBT romance shows. (I'm glaring FLAMING DAGGERS at the garbage Interview With a Vampire show in which they ruined everything but most of all the chemistry that the original story did so well.) In any case, please watch it! It's one of the best things I've ever seen.

Last Night in Soho [Film]: Directed by my favorite director, Edgar Wright, who has the most fantastic habit of matching musical beats to visuals (a particular love of mine), this film is GORGEOUS, for one. The colors and scenery, the editing, the lights, the creative shots, the effects, the MIRRORS! Don't get me started on the mirrors. I love mirrors. One of my favorite things about characters - although ONLY when done well - is the contrast of duality. Some of the best portrayals besides this one are in Tokyo Ghoul and Moon Knight, off the top of my head. It's hard to find portrayals I like, but this one shines above them all. There are technicalities on the actual character being dual, but I wouldn't spoil it for you. It's the journey of both a past and present woman, one struggling to find her place in the fashion industry, and one struggling to escape the sex industry before it devours her. I heavily related to certain themes in this one and was viscerally enthralled in the choices and character arcs made in certain scenes. It's cathartic, it's overwhelming, it's PURE ART. You're missing out if you never see this one.

HBO's Sharp Objects [Show]: On so many levels, this one speaks to my wounded little heart. Dealing with heavy topics like childhood trauma, parental abuse, self harm, child murders, the bad sides of southern/small-town culture, and mental illness, I don't know if there's another character that I feel quite as connected to as Amy Adams' portrayal of Camille Preaker. The outstanding detail of this one for me, personally, is Camille's mother, Adora. I can confidently say that there IS no other mother that resembles how my childhood felt than Adora, and because of that this show was a painful sort of catharsis. But I love feeling emotions to a dangerous degree, and I'll just say the finale of this one wiped me the fuck out. I'm currently rewatching it for the first time with my close friends, and I'm so scared to get to that finale again. Lmao. But in a good way. In any case, other than Adora, I also identified with the accurate and visceral portrayals of self harm and PTSD. The way that they show flashbacks and visually jumpscare the viewer WITHOUT the presence of blasting music was the show's shining glory. You have literal ASMR wind and crickets over shots of a dead child's missing teeth, blood hitting pavement, pornography on a cabin door, and then a hanged corpse in the corner of the bedroom, right there with Camille in the shot. It is...SO accurate to the feelings of PTSD. It's just so good. I would recommend the show for that alone, and yet everything else is so perfect, too. Along with the gripping plot of a murder case, the intense shame that follows Camille wherever she goes makes for such good conflict and friction with her surroundings. Everything is personal because it takes place in her hometown. Anyway, I can't keep rambling my mind out of its skull over this one. It's beautiful, it's perfect, it's fascinating. Please see it. I beg of you. For me, it represented so much of how it felt to grow up with family dynamics like Camille's. If you relate to it, you'll either love the catharsis or hate the memories it revives.

No Longer Human [Novel]: Pretty sure I've already rambled my ass off about this one when I made the 10 Characters 10 Fandoms post since Yozo is one of the most relatable characters I've ever read about and thus one of my faves! But yeah, this novel is everything to me. I want so many quotes on my wall from it but honestly the one that I constantly think about is still that first line: "Mine has been a life of much shame." It's well known, but that doesn't make it any less impactful for me. I still tear up sometimes when I think about it. Yozo's thought process is just so...accurate. And knowing all about Dazai Osamu and his life as the writer and how closely it's tied to it? I don't think it will ever move from its spot as my top novel of all time.

The Vampire Armand by Anne Rice [Novel]: Lol so the gif isn't from this story specifically but I need gifs for happy brain so I have one related to the story. Probably one of my favorite romances of all time, mostly because it's a very reserved romance, in the sense that it can't exactly be labelled "romance" except in sub-context. (I mean they do have sex but it's like a story about vampires first, if that makes sense? The romance is sort of a subplot to Armand's vampire adventures.) Anne Rice is a favorite writer of mine, and this book was a masterpiece to me. The language she uses and the scenes of vampirism fascinated me, and I wish that vampire media was better at bringing Anne's true style to life. They make it so goofy nowadays, and no other vampire stories apart from some anime portrayals are ever interesting to me. Not to mention the new Interview With A Vampire series as aforementioned is SO BAD and I hate it. Anne could handle that excessive grace of a man who's lived for centuries and the intelligence gained along the way without ruining their humanity, and knew how to portray the loneliness of such a life without making her characters sound like the emo piss babies of Twilight. She has such a grasp on the poetry of words and breadth of experience, and I'll never get over just how exciting it was to read this book for the first time. Truly felt like I was discovering vampires for the first time, and how they would realistically operate if they existed.

Tokyo Ghoul [Manga]: I believe everyone knows quite enough about Tokyo Ghoul, so I promise not to ramble on this one! But in short, as a psychological thriller lover PLUS horror lover PLUS dual-personality-when-done-right-and-realistically lover PLUS cannibalism-exlored-and-the-terrifying-effects lover I MEAN THIS IS JUST THE STORY FOR ME OBVIOUSLY. Kaneki has and always will be fascinating to me no matter how mainstream or over-talked about he is. He is amazing. Did the anime leave out most of the good stuff from the manga? Yeah, but Kaneki was there. The torture scenes were great. Is the manga better? WORLDS BETTER. But I still enjoyed the anime and got into it through there. I respect the anime's attempt to capture what was a sincerely tragic and deep emotional story. But man, reading the manga is something else, entirely. I haven't had the chance to read every single volume, and I may have skipped around a bit in search of the best parts to invest my time in, but boy I never regretted it. Kaneki's arc, getting to see into his head and experience his trauma and eventual decline into madness was SO SO SO SO SO FUCKING GORGEOUS. Nothing will beat it for a descent into madness story for me, I don't think. Plus ghouls as a whole and the art of the manga are just so *claws the wall* I wish I could draw like that.

The Phantom of the Opera [Score]: What's this?? Het media on Sadist's list?? Okay. I'm a huuuuge music fanatic. I grew up with multiple instruments in the house and played to escape, wrote to express, blah blah blah you get it, I NEEDED music to survive. When I discovered this soundtrack, as someone who despises musicals (and still does, but a few have made it through to my heart), I was ENTHRALLED, I tell you. ENCHANTED! Never before or since have I heard such riveting, mysterious, ethereal music, much less in a musical. Every single fucking song on this soundtrack is evocative and perfect and EVERYTHING. And the STORY! AUGH! I've always adored the story. One of my main quarrels with het 'romance' media is that so many of the "greats" (AKA The Notebook, 50 Shades, Twilight, After, etc.) have these fucking...WALKING RED FLAGS that are presented to be the most romantic things ever. Like the movie itself is gaslighting the audience into believing the emotionally manipulative man dangling off of a ferris wheel and threatening to kill himself if the girl doesn't go out on a date with him is adorable. I don't find it cute I find it reminiscent of every bad partner I've ever had, and I can't watch the movies because NOBODY in them ever acknowledges or is affected negatively in any way by these glaring, abusive behaviors. In Phantom of the Opera, Eric (the phantom) is obsessive, stalkerish, possessive, etc. - many things that other media presents as love WITHOUT understanding how it's also terrifying. The movie (though a little goofy at times and dramatic, I'll admit - which is why the score and not the film is on my tops list LMAO) presents these factors as they SHOULD be presented - scary. The music is ominous, the songs are obsessive and enchanting, and it's not presented as cutesy romance. That's why I love it so much. If you want a toxic love interest, please go right ahead and make one! You guys know me, that's literally what I write about. So I hope I've made myself clear about this topic and what I mean - just present the actual abuse as ACTUAL ABUSE, and scary and horrible, even if the protagonist is falling in love with that. Because reality can be like that. It's tough. But in Phantom, Christine goes with the healthy love interest in the end, Raoul, and I've always thought the ending was beautiful for that, because the Phantom still learned love in the end by letting her go. ANYWAY! Enough of that, good grief lmao. Tumblr with no word limits is so dangerous for me.

Mo Dao Zu Shi [Donghua]: 3 Seasons and I still haven't had enough of it. I just recently rewatched this with my close friends and good gods I was appreciating all the intricacy and character development the second time around. There isn't a single character left un-developed in this donghua like SERIOUSLY. Seriously, big kudos to the fucking author. In anyone else's hands, the magic system and the multiple plot lines and the larger-than-life characters most likely would've been fumbled. But whoever directed this KNEW what they were doing and KNEW their source material. And look, even though I barely know who is who because names are confusing and I barely understand half of the magic going on and why people are fighting, THIS IS THE SINGULAR SHOW THAT EXISTS WHERE IT DOESN'T FUCKING MATTER. I'M STILL TRYING TO UNDERSTAND HOW THAT WORKS. But it does? The emotional capacity of every scene no matter if I know what's happening or why just HITS and I'm always rooting for the characters or crying over them. Like, it's just insane. Okay. Everyone who's into BL should watch it, because it's one of the best. And even if you're not into BL, it's one of the best. The action is INCREDIBLE. apffff moving on.

The Case Study of Vanitas [Anime]: BRUUUUUHHHHH. We all know. We all know. I don't need to say anything. But the two boys, man. Two of my top faves. The show is gorgeous, the character designs are beautiful, the setting is romantic, the boys are gay (they are. they are gay.)...I mean what more can I ask for. Oh yeah also vampires! They're vampires. And I love vampires that are like, actually cool. Thank you for making actually cool vampires within a really interesting magic system. I would kiss the author but she made Vanitas straight so no kisses. ONE OF MY FAVORITE COUPLE OF CLIMAX EPISODES OF ALL TIME BTW.

A Silent Voice [Anime Film]: :(...I can't really talk about this one. I relate to it so much. Social anxiety, depression, attempted suicide. It's a really beautiful and painful movie. I cry every time I watch it. The end, that's all. The imagery and the meaning behind so many shots is just...UWEGH.

To Your Eternity [Anime]: *furiously points* LOOK AT THE BABY. OH MY GODS LOOK AT HIM. You guys, you guys. You guys. If you haven't seen this, and you like crying, and you need to cry really hard, and you need the most fascinating and heart wrenching story of all time, this is the one. Fushi, also? Hot. The Beholder, his daddy? Hot. Kenjiro Tsuda? Hot. Sorry, besides the point. This is the best written "you're supposed to cry" story I've ever seen. Nothing beats it. You know what they're going to do to you but yet they somehow subvert your expectations of HOW every fucking time, and MAN??? It hurts. But it hurts so good. And Fushi should be real so I can kidnap him, that's all.

I did 11 things, I'm so sorry. I do this every time. BUT I SURE HOPE YOU FOUND THOSE INTERESTING AND POSSIBLY FOUND A NEW THING TO ADD TO YOUR LIST IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN/HEARD/READ BEFORE. Thanks anon for the ask!

Oh yeah and as extra I wanted to throw in my favorite song right now because IT'S REALLY PRETTY.

[house-foxglove]

alright you talked me into it, i'll post about my dark fantasy estern setting. (its unedited and my "double you" key is on the fritz but FUCK IT HERE"S MY THING:

The setting of Gut of the West is set in two epochs; the 1st is as the est is just beginning with its expansion into other directions, the God of the West promising his people that he would grant his power to one who proved himself holier than him. Then the 2nd here one of the god’s children sacrificed his life to make that possibility a truth. He spread his divinity in all directions so that any creature living, born, or dead could hold the power of a god and take his station, both in title and in function.

Directions

There are seven divine Directions in the world of Gut of the West: North, South, East, West, Down, Yonder, and the Center.

West

Color: Black (iron)

Topics and Themes: Colonialism, fanaticism, religious pressure, devotion, manifest destiny

The West is the most powerful growing direction in recent millennia. In the West the story of how a man gained the status and power of a god was when he tamed and bridle the Spirit of the West, a far more ancient and primal being than the man. But still he broke it. And as such earned mastery and ownership of the entire West. Since then the technology of the West had grown exponentially. The taming of iron and coal and steel led to the creation of machines powered by the minerals and treasures of the earth. Those that the God of the West found worthy he turned into Saints. Wise men of their craft and loyal to the point of giving their life in the name of the God.

The first was the Patron Saint of Arms, St. Gatling. A master engineer and savant in the combustive arts. He created many weapons that roared with the sound of God’s voice, and struck down others like lightning. When his people were under threat by foreign armies Gatling used his greatest weapon yet, but died along with the opposing forces. For his genius and sacrifice the God of the West raised him again so he may continue his work in devotion.

The est is pretty much looks like anywhere between late 1700’s and the very late 1800’s. The further est you go the more towards the current present it looks with even the Capital city of Horizon having automobiles.

The true history is that the God of the est as a warlord ho organized and army to bring don the Spirit and chain it. He then at the hole of it. Ate the entire body of the Spirit of the est and as imparted with the power of a god. From this power he rules the est, but is hungry for more, and he cannot be satiated. He oversaw and warped the development of technology so it would suit his purposes of extending his borders. To corrupt the iron of the Railroad to dig its nails in the ground and take root. Splintering spreading iron that digs into the soil, and it contracts. It pulls and drags the soil and ground of all other directions into itself. Devouring all land in all directions into the gut of the est.

Most citizens are religious to a degree. Some join certain branches of the faith of the est like the Church of St. Gatling and the Saint of Spirits. Both of whom have been stripped of their humanity, no turned into servitors and puppets of God. They ill play the part the people believe them to be, but its monstrous self is hat the God has made them. The curtain of sainthood covers the horror within.

This truth is hidden from all westerners. The citizens of the est are encouraged by their god to go into the w0rld and lay don roots that the west may eventually reach. Missionaries that move to other directions and prepare a way for the est to come. Servants of the Railroad and the Gun plotting and conspiring to spread the rails across the land, even so far as to build mine carts into the earth.

Notable steeds are horses in many varieties and breeds.

North

Color: White

Topics and Themes: Consuming, cannibalism, harsh environment,

A frigid archipelago made up of islands of dirt and ice. The people of the north are hardy and superstitious. There can be little vegetation found in the north, but the peoples of the north have extensive taboos surrounding eating flesh. The most severe taboo to break is cannibalism, to eat another person’s flesh is deemed an abomination, not just the act, but hat succumbing to that hunger does to a person. The more people a cannibal eats the more they grow, becoming a giant that hungers for human flesh and thirsts for human blood. Not many are able to quench or keep this desire don. Some are able to keep their composure and humanity after consuming it, but it takes a great amount of willpower. All monsters in the north are creatures that resorted to eating another one of their kind.

Northerners appearance and complexion depend on the region and islands they are from. Their skin color can range from a deep tan and caramel across the hole of it, to a pallid hite tone in the northwest. Those in the northwest There are a number of different tribes, peoples, and clans in the north. One of which lives with living stones of ice, nomadic glaciers that travel along currents.

The notable steeds of the north are musk oxen, buffalo, ice bulls, and moose.

East

Color: Yellow

Topics and Themes: Poaching, corruption, stewardship, sisterhood,

A windblown desert, crags and canyons, pillars of stone jut from the earth like fingers of a hand hose palm lies beneath the soil.

The Spirit of the East manifests through the ind and weather. Dominating the skies are giant eagles ho mastered the ind and could fly with and against it. The eagles earned the respect of the ind and gave them the power to wield it. The greatest of eagles could create tornadoes and bring rain. Warriors caught lightning in their talons like a fish in a lake.

One day a woman found an eagle’s egg fallen from a nest. She wanted to return the egg to the nest in order to not draw the eye or ire of the eagle, but she could not climb up the cliff to return it. So she brought it to her home. There she made a nest of her for the eagle egg, she fended off thieves both animal and man who wanted to eat the eagle egg. Eventually it hatched and the sky thundered. The mother eagle heard it hatch and flew down in a rage only to see a human woman throwing her on body on top of her hatched child, protecting it from snakes, coyotes, and men. The mother eagle cried splitting the air and deafened all the attackers sending them fleeing. The mother eagle as thanks offered to teach the woman how to master the wind. So the first of witches as made. An art and spiritual practice passed don from mother to daughter, master to student. The oldest of witches ere called crones. Their faces beaten by the ind after years of dancing with and mastering it.

The peoples of the east typically have rich brown skin and deep black hair, their eye colors range from the darkest colors of the night sky. They live in family units, but seasonally all come together to a community camp here the wind is light and not harsh. Here they can harvest seasonal foods and compete against each other in daring sports of kite surfing.

Notable steeds are hippogriffs, and itch brooms.

South

Color: Red

Topics and Themes: Debts (emotional and monetary), servitude/enslavement, intimacy, devotion,

This direction has seen much turmoil among many ages. From a deep canyon of beasts to a massive ocean ruled by salt, and then the receding of the ocean against the land rising up from its once buried position. No the south is a massive samp and bayou, ith salt ponds and grottoes the further south you go toards the horizon and the ocean. The soil of this land as magic, suffused ith the poer of the Spirit of the South. Those that are buried in the ground and owe a debt may be raised as revenants ith human bones and dirt fat and skin. They may be raised due to a promise or agreement they made with someone in life that can be evoked and enforced by a miracle orker. Or from the sheer emotional eight and poer associated ith that promise raising them.

In the South there are those ith the rare vocation of being a miracle orker. One ho has a connection ith the earth and the south and its people. Ith faith and devotion they can enact miracles, such as raising someone from the dead by invoking their promise as ell as using a number of tokens, trinkets, and objects chosen by the miracle orker for their subject specifically.

But some miracle orkers are orkers for debt collecting companies and banks. If someone oes a debt then in their contract it states that they ould be risen and continue to ork in order to pay off their debt. These revenants are knon as “poor sods”, indentured servants in death that are not alloed to lie in their grave to sleep. Hen their debt is paid off it is up to them if they ish to keep living again. Their ork may have worn down their bones and injured them, causing them to have a painful existence therefore choosing to rest. Others ill keep on, taking solace in joy in their loved ones, their hobbies, and their living.

Down

Color: Green

Topics and Themes: Freedom, debauchery, sympathy, rebellion, mean spiritedness, temptation

The only direction a fall may take. And all ho live don in the ground is fallen in a ay. The Spirit of Don is knon as the Pit Mammoth, a titan ith shaggy black fur, Long shark tusks, a trunk that is the body and head of a venomous snake, and and deep fire that burns from its eyes and mouth. The mammoth hears all ho are desperate deep inside the earth. All ho are buried under the eight of the orld, in the ground or standing on it. Those trapped and crushed, the confined and claustrophobic ho scream to anything and anyone that ill listen. Once the names of their family runs out, the names of their friends, and the names of hatever gods they orship. Hen they pray to anything at all, the mammoth listens, and it offers a ay out, a ay don. If they accept the mammoth’s invitation they are fall through the earth into the mammoth’s fire and is permanently changed. They gro horns, their skin turns green, and fire burns from their eyes, but the darkness of their irises still pierce through the fire. They typically take on a number of animalistic features; ranging from cloven hooves, eyes of goats and frogs, scales, cat ears, heifer noses, and tails of all sorts.

Many devils despise being referred to as “below, beneath, and under” they don’t ant to be referred to as lower than something else, that nothing else is inherently better than them. A devil’s freedom is one of the most valuable things they have. Many take the stance of live and let live. And some devils do return to the surface and atch as the people ith the blue above them go about their lives. Sometimes interferring. These anderlusting devils observe and/or interact ith those they have taken a fixation of. It could be someone ho ent through similar experiences as them in their old life and feel sympathy for them, so they may try to establish a friendship ith them, or even extend an invitation don themselves. This invitation does not turn the invitee into a devil, hoever.

Though devils revere freedom andto restrict another’s freedom is looked don upon, there are some devils ho relish in wielding their power and freedom against others. Those that play with another’s life as though it were a toy to be abused and discarded. Devils avoid tunnels near their dens.

Yonder

Color: Blue

Topics and Themes: Grudges, family ties, xenophobia, passing as something else, song and history

Hanging in the sky shines the moon, its milky blue shape changing ith the days, and by doing so changing the territories that shine toards the surface. The lands of the moon in Yonder are not physically concrete. The phases of the moon changing are in truth hich territory of the moon canids shines toards the orld, and therefore connects them. Hile one phase of the moon shines, hen not shining don on all other directions the other phases of the moon life in perpetual night. Hen the full moon shines the olves look don on the orld, for the half moon are the coyotes, and for the foxes the crescent moon. These boundaries and territories of the moon were established over years of war and feuds between clans of canids against their own kind and others. In addition to their peoples’ howls and songs the canids of the moon could speak language like a human, and were sentient in their own right, their own people.

Among those ho live on the moon the oldest story of the great blue Yonder’s creation is hen the sky as still black. One day a fox that lived on the dark side of the moon began to hop and dig into the midnight sky, and as it dug it found light. It shoed other foxes ho to leap into the night and find ells of starlight. This is ho the foxes made the stars in the sky. But one fox dug too deep and too ide, its tail got caught in the starlight and caught fire. The fox tried to find anything that ould put it out, but the brightness of the sun blinded the fox, so it runs across the sky to this day.

Regardless of its origin the sun’s light shines on the moon and gives it shape and tangible borders. Once the sun shone on the moon olves, coyotes, and foxes began to establish territory as opposed to the unified survival in the dark of perpetual night. Years and centuries of ars over lands beteen packs and clans of canids led to the no current borders and lands of the moon. Set for the olves like a table as the Full Moon, here the most of the sun’s light shone. Next as the Half Moon for the coyotes, not as strong as the olves but ith tricks of their on. They could race across beams of light cast by the moon to the surface and hunted there. Then the Crescent Moon for the foxes, the ones ho gifted light in the first place. But foxes adapted and continued their art of sneaking through the darkness, and using the shadows to protect themselves.

There was a clan of humans that would wear the skin and fur of animals and would take on some of their power. One day a man wore the skin of a coyote he had killed and approached another who was departing back to his home. The man in the coyote skin asked how the coyote could travel to and fro to the moon. The coyote thought he was looking at a sagging elder who had forgotten how to return to his homeland, so patiently he showed the man wearing the skin of his kind how to tread upon the moonbeams back to the moon. Later more men with skins of coyotes came to hunt on the moon, making traps for all the beasts and taking their skins to sell or wearing them to fight them. In these skirmishes the wolves took a man and forced him to show how they skinned a creature and how they gained power from it. Once the man had fearfully instructed them how to do it properly they killed him and took his skin. And so wolves learned by the humans’ example.

Some canids found a way to poison themselves and their skins so that any human that wears it will go into a fit of sneezes, having a cursed allergic reaction to the fur and cause them to go feral and behave as a rabid animal. Those that stray too far from the moon for too long, are banished from it, or damn it entirely lose the spark it gives them, dimming their mind and turning them wild. These became the wild beasts of the wilderness, as well as the first dogs.

Center

Color: Purple Humans are creatures from the center and in ancient days spread in nearly every direction. Human ancestry, and Directional ancestry. The center only created the valley, where all humans came from. All other directions created their own life, trees and animals, to match their whims and the materials they had to work with.

The 2nd epoch began when the God of the West attempted to consume the Center and destabilize the borders between all Directions. But when he did, his son, the Railroaded, threw himself in front of the tracks. The spilling of his blood as the center was no more led to the divine nature of his life was spread across all directions. With the loss of the center all of Order is destabilized though it is difficult to tell. [[Wayward Chaos]] begins to take form once again, one manifestation is the [[Silver Saltfields]] which serve as a purgatory and transition realm where living beings are broken down and cast into the chaos to feed it and make it grow and return to the world to the state of existence it was once in before the Directions were created.

[t00nyah]

Meet 24 hour — they're ready to cheer you up, well…24 hours a day!

2019. Despite both not being really fond of publicity, it seems like the idea of making a band together made them work on their social awkwardness and, by publishing their fresh version of Calamari Inkantation, they got the attention of Inkopolis' cephalings. Soon after that Off the Hook finally were ready for their tour and their place was offered to 24 — which, while being quite unexpected, but was accepted by them.

Sango is a beginner DJ with a potential, but not with the most expressive face, trying hard to contribute in broadcast, although very often he can be seen gesticulating more than talking…

(even though Three is they/them non-binary in my headcanons, they went through some gender identity crisises before getting there. Timeline-wise in 2019 my Three uses he/she and identifies as man, and still has to figure out why it still feels not like it doesn't suit him. I will refer to Sango with he/she when I portray him in that time period, but with they/them when it's later, when they came out as non-binary!)

Hachi is a brighter, easily impressionable and smiling octoling songwriter. She seems to be very easy to offend because of her emotionality, but she forgives easily.

(now, i'm not good at music at all, but i've made a track for Inkopolis News ft. 24hour!~ i tried making more but it all turned out bad and my pc couldn't handle my spicy beats, uhhh...)

🎃SpookyFest!🎃

Hachi: It's time! Sango: 24 LIVE… Hachi: Yep-yep, that's us! I wonder what are current stages for… OH! Sango: ? (turned his head to Hachi, interested) Hachi: I think we might need to tell the exciting news first! Sango: You mean… Hachi: (nods) Ta-du-dum! It's Splatfest time! Sango: What's the topic this time? Hachi: We'll find out… In a minute!

[BAM!] Hachi: (puts her hands over her beak) Ah!! Wait, what day is it?! It can't be that soon… Splatoween, already?! Sango: Oooooh… (motioning fingers in a spooky manner) How would you like to spend your Splatoween…diving into the atmosphere by watching spooky films? Hachi: Or on a theme party? Hachi: Oooh… This one's tough… (taps finger on her cheek, thinking) Sango: It's pretty simple for me. Parties are not my thing. Sango: You can't turn off people around you when you're tired. Sango: But a TV always has this function. Hachi: Hm-hm~ But what about spending time with your friends in spooky or funny costumes? Hachi: You could make thematic decorations, food, games, anything! Hachi: I'm team Splatoween party. Sango: Have fun there, and I'm going to watch Nightmare before Squidmas. Hachi: Hey, I want to too..! (puffs her cheeks) Hmpff… Sango: I can wait for you if you want. Hachi: !.. Sango: (smirks) Well, what would you choose? Splatoween films or Splatoween party? Hachi: Don't forget to go to the Splatfest terminal and choose!!

~~~ Hachi: It looks like it's time to wrap up… Sango: Well, all day's the time… Hachi: …to let you shine!

(yep, i decided 'what do you mean no splatoween. here i have it right there.')

SpookyFest art! Hachi and Sango doing both activities in the end. It's not like anyone's gonna find out that they're both too scared of scary movies and social interactions to do things on their own, right?

Bonus: 24 concept art!

(you can actually use this as a reference as long as you understand that some things here aren't finalised and if something doesn't seem right(like sango's teal color is different from his actual design here) — you better reference the artwork above! it's mostly good for small details like their headphones or hachi's skirt for example)

(me trying to figure out their studio layout and dynamic at broadcast)

(small doodles where you can see hachi hiding her shoulders by tying her sweat..er?.. anyway i love this concept so much.)

(i tried to cut out splatoween sango and hachi in case anyone wants to use them as a pfp idk (just credit me please if you do!))

(also a small shellfie doodle i made yesterday bc i was really hyped to show all this!!!)

big thank you if you made it to the end!! i worked on this for half of this month and i'm really glad i finally get to show all this stuff :] i hope you like it 'cause i might plan to do something else...

[eyrieofsynapses]

Hey, Leverage peeps. Y’know how Sophie is introduced playing Lady Macbeth in Shakespeare’s Macbeth? I (re)read the play recently for a class (yes, I'm a literature nerd who voluntarily takes classes involving Shakespeare, sue me), and it got me thinking.

Because, guys… there's definitely meaning behind that choice. Lady Macbeth's character is an ambitious and manipulative woman who pulls her husband's strings to gain power, only to be consumed be guilt. Sound familiar? Yeah. There’s a lot of parallels.

I'm guessing many of you haven't read the play, so I'll explain the bare bones of what you need to know for the meta. Macbeth is a play about a general/nobleman named, of course, Macbeth. At the beginning, he encounters three witches—they're the origin of the "double, double toil and trouble / fire burn and cauldron bubble" phrase—who prophesize that Macbeth will become king. Macbeth describes his encounter to his wife, Lady Macbeth, who coerces him into murdering the current King Duncan. They work together to kill Duncan, and Macbeth ascends to the throne. He has numerous other people killed to keep his throne safe.

(Trigger warning for suicide mention! Skip to the next paragraph if you don't want to read.) Both he and Lady Macbeth are consumed by guilt as the play goes on, though, and she goes more or less insane and eventually commits suicide. (Trigger warning over.)

If you've ever heard of "out, out, damned spot," that's Lady Macbeth agonizing over the metaphorical blood she can't get off her hands.

So, how does this work with Sophie? Here's the thing. Lady Macbeth is known as one of the characters, if not the character, that coined the "dangerously ambitious woman" trope. She's determined to secure Macbeth's position on the throne, mostly for the power it'll gain her as Queen, and she pulls his strings over and over to get him to murder his way there.

Sophie is, of course, a grifter. Her entire skillset is designed to manipulate people—oftentimes rich and powerful men—to get what she wants. She isn't necessarily ambitious so much as obsessed with stealing artwork and other valuables, but she enjoys the downfall of most of her marks. She luxuriates in the power of making people do what she wants them to.

And yet Lady Macbeth does eventually succumb to the guilt of everything she's done… just as Sophie comes to recognize and regret the pain she's wrought. Remember The King George Job?

"Nate: I know what you're thinking, but it's not the same thing.

Sophie: Oh, no. Of course it's not. I stole from one rich man to sell to another rich man.

Nate: No one got hurt.

Sophie: That I know of. How do I know that innocent children were never used to shift my merchandise?"

(transcript)

In the same scene, she also says this:

"Listen, I know I grifted from filthy-rich wankers who hardly ever missed the money, of being taken for a ride. But this, this whole Moreau business has got me thinking. Keller steals from the rich, too, and a little girl ends up in detainment for it."

She comes to recognize her past wrongdoings via the work she does with the crew, and at the same time begins to redeem herself for it. That prevents her from becoming consumed by guilt as Lady Macbeth does. The theme, however, remains consistent.

It's also fascinating that Sophie refers to Nate as a "white knight, black king" in the very same episode as her initial (awful) performance as Lady Macbeth. White is often associated with purity and innocence, thus implying a “pure knight.” Macbeth himself is a noble and well-respected "knight" (technically general and nobleman, but it follows the same concept) before Lady Macbeth coerces him into murdering King Duncan. This parallels neatly with Nate as a “pure knight,” or an “honest man” (as Macbeth was before the play began).

Then, of course, we have "black king." Black is a color frequently associated with sin, darkness, etc., and thus Macbeth could be seen as a "black king" himself: someone who has done great wrongs to reach his position of power. He’s turned into that “black king” by Lady Macbeth. Nate, meanwhile, is called the "black" chess king. He is metaphorically “corrupted”—arguably, by Sophie and the crew. (Of course, in Nate’s case, the “corruption” is a good thing and leads him to become a better person. But the parallel itself still stands.)

Chess is about strategy, manipulation, and cleverness. Sophie and Lady Macbeth are both very good at manipulating people into doing what they want them to for power's sake. Nate is often referred to as the master chess player, where "chess" is the metaphor for cons. Yet realistically, Sophie is the best at playing "chess" with people. Not to mention that the king is, in many ways, not a powerful piece. It can only move one square at a time, and if it's captured, its side loses. The queen is the most powerful piece on the chessboard. And here's Sophie, referring to Nate as a chess piece.

(There's something to be said here about how Sophie manipulates Nate both for his own good but also to her advantage, specifically in The First David Job and The Second David Job. But for the sake of keeping this meta at a reasonable length, I’ll leave it for now.)

"But Synapse!" I hear you cry. "Sophie's really bad at the Lady Macbeth speech in the first episode, but she's fantastic in the last one! If she became a better person, wouldn't it be the other way around?"

Fair point, friend, and it's something I've been trying to figure out myself. Here's my proposal:

I'm not an actor, but from what I understand, acting requires you to deeply empathize with your character. Conning isn't dissimilar, but in a way, Sophie knows that when she cons, it is not her. She's hiding everything she is for the sake of deception.

Regular acting, on the other hand, requires you to be exposed about yourself and who you are. You have to be willing to be vulnerable for your audience. And Sophie truly does not know how to be vulnerable, or indeed who she is at all. Of all the characters on Leverage, she's always been the most mysterious about her past and her true depths.

In The Nigerian Job, Sophie claims she's gone to a civilian life and dropped her grifting. She's questioning the very thing that she loves to do, uncertain of herself and where she's going with her life. Her ambition and drive have been, if not lost, undermined. We know that Sophie is a paradoxically compassionate and maternal person just as much as she is a master of the con. When she joins up with the crew, she near-immediately falls into a momfriend role to Parker, Hardison, and Eliot, and she’s an exceptional teacher.

Perhaps she struggles to find kinship in Lady Macbeth's motivation in that first episode. She can't act what she doesn't understand. Plus, she has no outlet for the side of her that desperately wants to do good, and maybe that’s showing through in her inability to embrace being bad.

But in The Long Goodbye Job, Sophie aces her performance when she's doing it for a con. Yet at that time she is arguably far less like Lady Macbeth than she is in the first episode. So what changes? What about the con makes it so much easier?

I'd say it's a few things. Firstly, Sophie's newfound stability. She knows who she is, and she knows that she is not Lady Macbeth. Her desire to teach and support others has a) been discovered and b) is being fulfilled. She's found that her love for manipulation is most satisfying when directed at people who are maliciously uncaring and contradictory to her own morals. Thus, the ways her personality overlaps with Lady Macbeth's can't be destabilized by Sophie's internal war over how much she really is like Lady Macbeth. She knows who she is, and she knows what parts of Lady Macbeth she can relate to and what parts she has to truly act out.

Moreover, she's acting for a con: she knows the character she's playing does not truly represent herself. Her mask is complete, rather than requiring pieces of herself to be exposed.

Compare Sophie's performance in The Nigerian Job to the part of Lady Macbeth's soliloquy she's attempting to recite (yes, I'll explain the bits of the soliloquy that I reference, don't worry):

"Sophie: Come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, and fill me from the crown to the toe top-full of direst! Make thick my blood;

Sophie: Stop up the access and passage to remorse, that no… (she hesitates and restarts her line) That no compunctious visitings of nature"

(transcript)

Versus the original soliloquy:

"Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood, Stop up th’ access and passage to remorse, That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between Th’ effect and it! Come to my woman’s breasts, And take my milk for gall, your murd’ring ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature’s mischief!"

(Macbeth, Act I, Scene V, lines 45-55; I’ve bolded the lines Sophie recites)

Note where Sophie trips up: she loses the word "cruelty" from "of direst cruelty" first, and then she hesitates on the lines "stop up the access and passage to remorse / that no compunctious visitings of nature / shake my fell purpose". If the latter line is gobbledygook to you, it basically means "stop me from feeling guilty so my guilt can't get in the way of my awful plans."

So where is Sophie hesitating? On the maliciousness of Lady Macbeth, and on her desire to feel no remorse. And what do we know about Sophie? That she is a) still inherently kind, and b) that she does feel remorse for the pain she's caused—or at least that she learns to feel it over the course of the show.

By the way, it's interesting that Lady Macbeth's bit about "take my milk for gall" is excluded too, because it's sort of like her saying "turn any motherly feelings/kindness I feel into cruelty." Compare that against Sophie's maternal attitude. It's probably not massively significant, given that there wasn’t a need for more than a couple lines for the writing of the show, but I find it interesting.

Now, compare this to Sophie's performance in The Long Goodbye Job:

"Sophie (wonderfully): Come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts, fill me from the crown to the toe, top-full of direst cruelty. Make thick my blood. Stop up the access and passage to remorse."

(transcript)

She's completely on-point. I'd say this is both because she's doing it for a con and doesn't feel internal conflict over it, but also because the marks deserve no mercy. The Black Book is full of people who have done awful things in the name of greed. Why should she feel guilt over dethroning them?

TL;DR: Sophie plays a character who simultaneously parallels and contradicts her. Lady Macbeth is manipulative and ambitious, much like Sophie, but also cruel and malicious, which is not very Sophie-like. Yet Lady Macbeth does eventually go crazy from guilt and remorse—and Sophie also has to learn how to deal with her guilt.

This is why Sophie struggles so much in her first performance: she’s questioning her identity in relationship to her similarities with Lady Macbeth. At the end, however, she’s become confident in who she is. She’s also learned to use her skills to destroy those who take advantage of their power to hurt others, rather than good men like King Duncan.

In fact, she’s dethroning people who are greedy for power… people who are not so dissimilar to Macbeth and Lady Macbeth themselves. Sophie has become their antithesis.

Damn, but this show is good.