#in reading this back over... i think the sheer volume of other things i compare the series to is kind of funny

[starlit-mansion]

okokok. i am not entirely sure i have ever seen you talk about this and how dividing the books all are is fascinating to me so... what's the opinion on the novel trilogy, or even frights/tales if you're willing to touch that w/ a ten foot pole --scrappedbaby

I feel like this is a pretty controversial take but I think the Silver Eyes itself is… fine. Okay, I tried to actually read it once and I couldn't get more than a couple pages in, because it read like when someone posts their homework assignment that was secretly fanfiction on fanfiction dot net. I have a little bit of a soft spot for the graphic novel, actually, due to it being bad in an interesting way rather than blandly decent like the other 2, which I've only flipped through. (Also the shitty saturated coloring fucked over the inks. Setting aside any opinions of the artist as a person, i think her style has character and added something to the series that is still present in other parts I like much better, like the glamrock concepts. And the muted test pages that someone scrounged up from a trade show copy or whatever would have probably done wonders for the atmosphere.)

As for the story of TSE itself… Idk, I think it's kind of funny that it's Stephen King's IT for fourth graders. Also, because it's aimed at that demographic, they had to conjure a young protagonist from somewhere, and I think the concept is pretty solid, and Charlie's a good character, and I'm also fond of what a little freak Dave-era William is. That's really my favorite concept of the villain motivation in the series, actually: creating this twisted little dollhouse to go sit in and pretend to be a robot. The immortality/mad science/lich/trancendance from the flesh thing is… it's fine. I made my peace with it. But it's a little too Herbert West for my tastes. (Also like… this is why I like Glitchtrap. He's kind of doing the same thing, making is little diorama and reliving his glory days.) All in all, for what it is, a solid 7/10, imo.

As for the rest of the trilogy……. ah, it's not for me. Like I said, I've flipped through the graphic novels a bit, and own them secondhand as curiosity pieces/weird little relics, but it seems like it gets up its own ass to cater to people who like lore (a separate but related demographic as people who like the horror part of the games, in my 100% honest opinion). I hear about the illusion disks and I am austin walker's iconic "do you ever see a take so bad you immediately have to go to sleep?' tweet.

As for Fazbear Frights: I'm not gonna lie, i think it's pretty good. I feel so fondly about the ghostwritten chapterbooks of my youth (I was a Babysitter's Club and Animorphs girlie, and weirdly… not an inaccurate cross-section for Fazbear's Frights), and I think it's perfectly fine to play around in the universe and create a bunch of AUs and related concepts. Is there criticism to be had of the stories themselves? SURE. They're very weak on diversity, QUITE fatphobic at times, and some of them are unnecessarily ghoulish, though there's only so much disgust I can muster for undeserved child death in the child death series… NONE of them deserve it, even the ones that are mean to their siblings or too vain or whatever, and the fact that it's equally likely for any given story to end in brutal death or "wow I really learned my lesson!" is actually pretty fun. Reminds me of Goosebumps a bit (though I was never a huge fan. Too easily creeped. That was my brother's preferred ghostwritten series though, so I sampled here and there. I also somehow had my hands on a novelization of one of the Tales from the Crypt movies too, and that made a big impression).

I don't love that FF takes every fan theory and milks it, and I'm sure the process for actual production has some ethical problems based on everything I know about the industry. But I do firmly believe that a little body horror is good for the youths, and just making it a multiverse rather than sticking to any one canonical thread lets you have your animatronic rabbit and wear it too, as it were. I also kind of like the lower middle class vibe that the series has… There's very frequently a sense of economic desperation and cheap escapism that resonates so well with the games, and reminds me of how going to Chuck E Cheese truly was the marquee birthday activity of my youth (though I liked the arcade more than the animatronics as a wee millenial).

Part of my fondness for FF is just that I had 2 months during late quarantine where I would buy a copy of the next one I hadn't read while I was doing my weekly grocery/target run and ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ELSE OUTSIDE OF MY HOME, and I would read these very unchallenging short stories and be like "I liked that one! …I did NOT care for that one" and it was a little pumpkin full of meat to chew on in my cage. I stopped it pretty abruptly when the proof of Scott's Republican political donations came out (I mostly do not buy any new fnaf items now, though I have ended up doing it here and there, and I mostly class it on the scale of like, buying Overwatch microtransactions even though activision blizzard is a shitty abusive company or smth. Not a moral good, but not on a "funding a person actively involved in politically crushing trans people" level of problematic).

As for the stories themselves, I liked Into The Pit (it really reads like a reused movie script, but in a good way), Count The Ways (a friend of mine, iirc, did NOT like the two non-title stories in vol 1, but I have a soft spot for Funtime Freddy's villain era in that one, and Millie's safe and self-inflicted teenage self pity reads as an affectionate self-callout to me), Out of Stock (this one's just so CLASSIC kiddie horror and also a really good use of an otherwise forgettable part of canon), Room for One More (another good use of forgettable parts of canon, i think the series really shines when it clicks into stuff like that), Coming Home (the jewel of the series, and gets me in the Sixth Sense nostalgia too), Bunny Call (mostly forgettable obvious moral lesson story with a surprising twist of poignency in the middle and an iconic antagonist), The Man in Room 1280 (I wish this was better utilized in the game series, it feels like Security Breach juked around this concept for a much worse and dumber version, and also Andrew is my special little bastard child), and The Real Jake (a sweet, if maybe a bit maudlin, exporation of the deeper concepts in the lore that is solidly a cut above the average FF story, and i like the stitchwraith parts of the books too).

There's none that I have a huge hate-on for, though I thought 1:35 am in particular was VERY bad (I skimmed the last half). While it's notorious, to me, In The Flesh is just dorky, particularly fatphobic and I don't know how everyone is getting MatPat from it. Mat's persona is kind of smug, but not cruel and hateful towards women or a shitty friend (if anything, his peers speak SO warmly of him that makes me give him more credit than he deserves as a cc), and you'd think a real hit piece on him would involve... a theory. A G A M E theory. Okay, I did it the legally required time.

I stopped at Book #6 and i'm not sure if i'll ever go back. I just got a library card so maybe I'll get around to it the next time i'm sucked into the franchise, but for the most part, I'm dormant except for things I really adore about the series (Springtrap, the Funtimes, Afton Family Drama in general, nostalgia for the first few games, etc), so I can't muster up too many more opinions on middle reader books as a 34-year-old. Tales has no appeal to me even as a future "maybe if the fixation hits hard" option, because a bunch of satellite stories around a setting that couldn't muster a third act in the tentpole game is just. Sad.

[veliseraptor]

December Reading Recap

Burning Girls and Other Stories by Veronica Schanoes. As is typical with me and short story collections, I really liked some of the stories in this one and found myself less impressed with several of the others. I did really appreciate the explicit Jewishness of the collection as a whole, and I feel like I'm going to be watching this author to see what she does in the future. I think my favorite story was the titular one ("Burning Girls"); some of the others got a little abstract for me. I did also like what she did with "Emma Goldman Takes Tea with the Baba Yaga" - in general I think Schanoes's strength is in the interweaving of folklore and history, and that's what I enjoyed most in her stories.

Heaven Official's Blessing: vol. 8 by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu. It's over!! by which I mean my, what, fourth reread of this book? This time in a new translation, so I guess that kind of makes it different (?). This was my first time reading a lot of the extras, specifically the amnesia one, which was both very good and rather upsetting. My only critique about it was that it could've been even more upsetting. No surprises here, of course (again, fourth reread) but it was a good reminder how much I love this one.

Children of Memory by Adrian Tchaikovsky. Adrian Tchaikovsky's imaginative worldbuilding and sheer creativity continues to blow me away. This is probably my least favorite of the three Children of Time books, corvids notwithstanding, but that's sort of like saying that The Hobbit is my least favorite Tolkien book. It's a ranking, but it's not actually a negative. And again, corvids, and what Tchaikovsky does with a society of corvids is as compelling as what he did with a society of octopuses, or spiders.

I think you have to have a certain amount of faith in Tchaikovsky for this one because, at least for me, I spent a lot of it not knowing what was going on and just trusting that it would make sense in the end, but by the time you get to this point in the series I feel like he's earned that faith.

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun: vol. 4 by Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou. I wonder if this is going to be the horniest single volume of this translation, because truly the arc it covers is one of the horniest arcs of the whole novel (at least, in my recollection). It's not my favorite section but it's a lot of fun, and Chu Wanning's desperation to be defiled alongside Mo Ran's desperation to be a good disciple is very entertaining. And meanwhile they're both incredibly horny for each other. I just happen to be here for the angst more than anything else, and there's less of the angst in this arc than there will be to come.

I genuinely wonder how they decide where to divide these volumes, by the by. It seems kind of random.

Die: vol. 4 by Kieron Gillen and Stephanie Hans. I liked the front half of this series better than the back half, and I felt like the conclusion was weaker than I would've expected from a usually incredibly strong storyteller. It continued to be breathtakingly beautiful throughout (thanks, Stephanie Hans!) but I felt like thematically and in terms of narrative it lagged a little toward the end compared to how it began.

The Odyssey trans. by Emily Wilson. I haven't read the Odyssey in many, many years (since my freshman year of college) and it was really fun to go back and reread it with fresh eyes and in fresh language. I don't have a whole lot of intelligent commentary to make, but I loved reading Wilson's introduction and translator's notes - definitely brought out new angles to me and made me alert to different things than I might have been otherwise. I was particularly a fan of the choice to translate in relatively plain language but in iambic pentameter. Also deeply impressed by the choice to translate in iambic pentameter, because boy does that seem like it'd be a challenge. Excited to read Wilson's translation of the Iliad when it comes out in paperback.

The Underworld: Journeys to the Depths of the Ocean by Susan Casey. I wanted this book to be a little more about the depths of the ocean and a little less about deep ocean exploration/the author's personal journey toward deep ocean exploration, but it was still an enjoyable read. I liked her other book (about rogue waves/surfing) more, despite the fact that this is a subject I find generally fascinating, but again, still pretty readable. Which I recognize is damning with faint praise but, like, if you're interested in the subject I wouldn't say you shouldn't check it out.

The chapter about deep sea mining was profoundly depressing, though. In an important-feeling kind of way.

Indigenous Continent: The Epic Contest for North America by Pekka Hamalainen. This book was such a good study on the way that teleological approaches to history can obscure/miss a lot of things, in terms of how it takes the common narrative of Native "loss" over the course of colonization and shows how in fact the story was a lot more complicated and uneven than that - that a lot of colonial "victories" were in fact rearguard actions, and for much of the 17th-19th centuries, despite colonial maps, North America remained a continent controlled by Native Americans. Really well done on the whole and I learned a hell of a lot. I'd generally recommend it for anyone looking for a solid broad-spectrum Indigenous history of North America.

At the same time sometimes the author was hammering so hard on his point that it started to annoy me. Annoying me isn't a crime, exactly, but sometimes when I feel like an author is straying into polemic I start to get suspicious of their scholarship - which I'm not, in this case, I actually trust that Hamaleinen did the work and the research, but it is something that comes up for me sometimes when I'm reading books that have a clear ideological motivation, even one I agree with.

The Carrow Haunt by Darcy Coates. After a couple big wins, my last couple Darcy Coates have been a little more disappointing. Still good, still satisfyingly spooky, but less stand-out "would recommend broadly" horror novels. Or maybe I've just gotten pickier, that's also possible. On the other hand, I still read this one in a day, so I can't be that critical.

Mistakenly Saving the Villain by Feng Yu Nie. This one was a bit of a disappointment to me, alas. I enjoyed it, still, but I think I wanted it to be more fucked up than it was. The twist at the end did genuinely surprise me, though, so it gets points for that.

--

I'm currently reading Conspirituality: How New Age Conspiracies Became a Health Threat by Derek Beres, Matthew Remski, and Julian Walker, alongside Faraway Wanderers by priest.

As far as what comes next when I finish one/both of those, I have a long list of want-to-reads I'm kind of jumbling around in deciding on. Among the likely candidates are Lords of Uncreation by Adrian Tchaikovsky, Some Desperate Glory by Emily Tesh, and Too Like the Lightning by Ada Palmer. On the nonfiction side I'm looking at In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado, An Intellectual History of Cannibalism by Cătălin Avramescu, and Spin Dictators by Sergei Guriev and Daniel Treisman.

[seiya-starsniper]

Shipper Tag Game

Tagged by the wonderful @4typercent 💖💖💖

What ship were you completely obsessed with as a teenager, but now you don't care about anymore?

Sasuke x Naruto lol. I absolutely LOVED this ship, wrote fic about, got into shipping wars, I was the absolutely worst kind of teenage obsessed with them ahahaha. I even met one of my longterm best friends though a Yahoo Groups ship forum for them aosidjaiod.

Now? I could care less lmaooooo. But I still hold fondness for the ship regardless.

Which ship would you consider your first one?

My first ship was definitely Mamoru x Usagi in Sailor Moon! I still love them to this day 💖

Your first fanfic was about which couple?

Yami x Yugi was the first ship I wrote for. I think. It may have also been Lena x Cloud from Zoids New Century, I am UNCLEAR on the details and my ff.net account is lost to time lmao.

The first one I ready was something Sailor Moon related I believe.

Do you remember the first couple you saw fan art of?

Usagi x Mamoru from Sailor Moon, definitely.

Have you ever gotten into ship discourse?

SO. DAMN. MUCH. AOSiasjdasidaiodasoidasdjiasdjs. I've almost never gone looking for it, it just found me. The last bout I ended up in I actually ended up actually went okay though! Way better of an experience than any other ship discourse I've gotten into by far.

Did you use to have any NOTP or have one currently?

I have plenty of NOTPs, none in my current fandom though! I just...there are some ships whose fandoms have ruined the ship for me, so I try very hard to avoid and/or block. Liberally.

Who were the last couple in the last fanfic you read?

Dreamling! My beloved pet ship that I've written over 100k words (200k+ across all my Sandman ships) for and counting! 💖

Currently, do you have any OTPs?

I mean...not really? I've always been a multi-shipper at heart, you are going to be hard pressed to find me a ship where that particular combination is the only one I'll accept. I love the idea of an OTP, I just don't have one lmao.

Is there any couple that, to this day, that you are extremely mad about not getting into?

Not really, no. There's some fandoms I WISH I could get into, but either I didn't like the source material (sorry good omens fans, I tried twice D:) or I didn't really like the quality of fic in the fandom just due to characterization differences. But nothing I'm like upset I didn't get into before lol.

Is there any ship you used to dislike but now you think they're kind of interesting?

Hmmmmm, can't think of one no.

Do you have any ship that, in the past, would have been considered normal but now you would be cancelled over?

Oh lord, yeah probably. Cannot think of any off the top of my head, but there were some weird ships back in the day.

What is your favourite crack ship?

Ooooooo! Great question. I'm currently trying to think of the most outlandish thing and all I can think of now is that Tony the Tiger x The Grinch fanfic! 🤣

What is the couple you read the most fanfics about?

Probably Dreamling right now! That's mostly due to sheer volume compared to other Sandman ships though.

What do most of your ships have in common?

Feral 4 Feral, and/or Soft Idiots in Love. Sometimes both!

What do you absolutely hate in a ship?

In a ship dynamic? When miscommunication is treated as something romantic, instead of something that needs to be worked on. Also when crossing clearly set boundaries is considered romantic.

In a ship fandom? There's too much to list, but I think the big one is when a ship fandom considers their ship "better" than the other ships in the fandom. Even the canon ship lmao. It just takes away the fun of shipping!

tagging: @softest-punk @bazzybelle @rriavian @aisalynn @five-and-dimes @kydrogendragon @athymelyreply @tj-dragonblade

[abrasife]

@unladielike * ✶ ❪ cont. from here┊☓ ❫

Prepared to turn around and leave since he had picked up Rachael's manga, Keith was pretty much ready to put this conversation to a close, especially since it seemed his apology fell on deaf ears for a good few (too long) seconds. If anything, he was quite resigned to have yet another attempt at forming friendships go down the drain. When would the pattern change anyway? He'd muck it up the moment he slipped out of being overly cautious and apprehensive about what he chose to share. Being honest hardly ever went in his favor. He was getting tired of the feeling of having to constantly apologize for nearly every outburst like this.

Then, Vivian finally broke the silence, accepting his apology with a sigh. Visibly baffled, the boy froze in his tracks like a deer in headlights as the girl browsed the shelf of shoujo titles. Breaking out of his disbelief, Keith tucked his book underneath his arm. He didn't think... he'd get this far. What was he even supposed to say to recovery from the sheer awkwardness that was salvaging a conversation like this?

❝ If it helps, I do this to almost everyone, siblings and family included, ❞ Keith replied in a low volume, unsure if the comment would actually make her feel better.

He turned his attention to the row of books in front of him, hoping that the art and the act of browsing would relief him of his apprehension. Was there a series he'd want to study the art of? Even if he wasn't super fond of the writing, the art was something to admire in ways with how detailed and cute it looked. It never hurt to expand his artistic horizons after all. It might make it easier to gain more clients as he dabbled more into digital art, considering many were into the anime and manga art styles.

At her question, he looked towards her with confusion on his face, only for his expression to shift immediately when he realized the misunderstanding, ❝ Oh, uh, both my sisters are older than me, ❞ he corrected her, ❝ and like I said before, Rachael likes these sorts of things—helps her feel happy. ❞

Noticing a thick volume of manga—an omnibus edition—that had an appealing title, Keith carefully pulled it off the shelf, flipping it over to the back side to read the summary—a cute cooking manga featuring a youthful female protagonist looking for the owner of a special spoon at a prestigious academy. As he opened the back pages, he saw a small collection of cooking recipes, igniting his interest immensely. Okay, he had to grab this one!

Keith scanned the shelves for the other volumes in the series, but it seemed that he would be unlucky in that regard. Maybe it was luck that he stumbled upon this considering how much older it was compared to these new releases on the shelf.

❝ I didn't realize there was cooking series like this, but I got to find the other volumes in this one and try out all the recipes. , ❞ he spoke aloud, not really sure how else to streamline his thoughts into the conversation. He briefly glanced back at Vivian, unsure if he should really ask her considering how she had mentioned shoujo wasn't her thing, ❝ Err, do you know of any other places I could potentially find the rest of this— ❞ Keith flipped the omnibus manga to the front cover to confirm the title, ❝ —'Kitchen Princess' series? ❞ If it wasn't obvious, he wasn't exactly a manga or book buyer connoisseur.

[roscgcld]

HEADCANONS + GOJO SATORU || onii-chan

note: this was a few ideas given to me by my beloved 🌸Anon - a bunch of new gojotwins!au headcanons c: this one is a little different compared to my other story, so this is a stand alone one. might turn it into a series if it gets enough love, but we’ll see~ you can read the original ask here!

pronouns: she/her

note: mentions of blood and death and spoilers for volume 8 & 9 of the manga. SUPER LONG by the way lol

gojotwins!au masterlist

twins have always been viewed as a bad omen for the parents - there are high chances of both twins developing no Cursed Technique at all, or have a Cursed Technique that is not desirable. So there had been no hope when one of the wives from the main family of the gojo clan was pregnant, and from what they can tell with twins at that

so it was a huge surprise to not only the elders but the entire jujutsu world when not one, but both of the twins were born with the coveted Six Eyes - something that had never happened in the history of the gojo clan. it was a moment to be celebrated!

if only they knew just what was lies ahead

much to the delight of the elders, the older one of the twins was the boy, satoru, while the girl was born 20 minutes after - it wouldn’t have mattered if it was the other way around, but just having the young boy being the one born first was definitely the icing on the cake

both of you were an absolute headache to deal with, causing so much chaos and mayhem that the elders had wondered if they should have celebrated at the idea of having two Six Eyes users under the same house was a good thing

the both of you trained together throughout your younger years, with satoru becoming super overprotective even though you were twins - he understood from a young age that the both of you were starting at different levels of footing because of your gender

yes, you are a girl - but at 7 years old you had exorcise a Grade-Two Curse by yourself with no more than an annoyed click of your tongue and a snap of your fingers, walking away whilst whining about how it got your favourite dress dirty

with that being said though, he loves to tease you are still the younger one between the both of you, and had teased you about how you should refer to him as ‘onii-chan’ instead of his first name

“come on, Y/N~ it’s a sign of respect~”

“i am going to spend you to outer space one of these days.”

the two of you were already known about the jujutsu world way before you even became old enough to enroll in Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College - you two were even allowed to enter without an interview with the then principal of the school

who would want to waste their time interviewing two highly over qualified teenagers anyway?

the first time you met geto and shoko, they were both intimidated by your sheer presence. the both of them have heard talks about the gojo twins entering their year as a pair

so when they had first met you, standing there in your uniform with your bright blue eyes hiding behind a pair of blacked out sunglasses and an indifferent look on your face - they definitely felt a shiver go through their bodies

however, when they saw your twin brother appearing behind you with the biggest grin, hugging you from behind whilst you scowled and tried to push his head away - they were definitely less intimidated now

“now, now, Y/N-chan, stop being so scary~”

“nii-chan, i am giving you three seconds to let go of me.”

the two of you quite the duo, especially when you two are always pinned against one another with more difficult and more challenging missions compared to when you were under the care of the gojo clan 

geto felt less pressure to match up to his friend, since satoru and Y/N are always at each other’s throat - wanting to outmatch the other and one up the other with silly things like Curse head counts and how difficult its level is

with that being said, satoru is very protective of you - if any so much as speaks poorly of you, he would not hesitate to put them in their place

“oya? what makes you think you can speak of my baby sister like that?” satoru had hummed towards the small group of men, who were commenting on how beautiful the young woman was followed by a lot of unsavoury comments. 

satoru still sported his casual smile, yet there was a certain air around him that made them shut their mouths up real fast. “mind repeating that? just want to make sure that i have a good enough reason to put your lazy asses six feet underground..”

after that specific incident by the way, satoru had you and your friends out on a little excursion around tokyo - where they just did a bunch of stupid things together to calm down

you can read him like the back of a book though, so when both of your friends went away to browse through some shelves in a video game store, you just wrapped your arms around your brother with a smile. “you know, nii-chan, you don’t need to go about protect my honour. i’m a big girl now.”

he’d just blink down at you before giving you a soft but genuine smile, petting the top of your head with one of his hand while the other was resting inside of his pocket. “if i don’t protect you, who am i going to protect?”

that statement was proven during your second year - a cursed user had overpowered you and shoko and had taken the both of you hostage. the curse user had practically beaten you into a pulp, knowing that you were the stronger one between the two

shoko had been tied up and beaten as well, but you were definitely taking the brunt of his anger - along with being forced to listen about how he was going to sell you to some low life family that had been trying to get you to marry their sorry excuse of a son. 

you don’t even remember meeting the father of the boy, who had claimed to visit the gojo clan home a few times now

“you gonna be a good girl for me?” the man had gripped as he gripped your hair in his hands, giving you a smirk whilst you scowled over at him in annoyance, blinking the blood out of your eyes from the wound on the top of your head. 

before you can give another snarky answer in reply that will get you another beating, the sound of someone kicking the door in. before either one of you can move, the man suddenly let go of your hair with a pained gasp as someone grabbed his hair and forced his head back, looking up into a pair of glowing blue eyes

“get your filthy hands off my baby sister.”

geto was in charge of taking care of the both of you, leaving the room with a simple reminder to satoru that they needed to bring the man back alive

both of you spending most of your time trying to unlock the many secrets of the Limitless, and how to control it better

during the entire star plasma vessel fiasco, you had stayed by geto’s side. and while you didn’t manage to save rika from being murdered, you had, like gojo, managed to touch the core of cursed energy

toji had ‘killed you’ before he went after geto, yet like satoru, he did not decapitate your head; so you had slowly started to use the reverse curse technique to heal your wounds

so you couldn’t believe satoru’s belief when he found you using reverse cursed technique to heal geto, wrapping you up in his arms while you just smile and hold him as well

the three of you plus shoko had turned to one another for comfort, because along the way you four have grown close to the young girl, and her death really affected all of you

but if there is something bright that came out from this, is that you and your brother had really elevated yourselves to become the strongest duo of the new generation - both pretty much an entire chest above the current active sorcerers

after satoru had calmed down, he had told you about what toji had said to him before his death - about how he has a son that he had planned to sell of to the zen’ins

the two of you went to visit the young boy, discovering that he had an older sister as well; and without hesitation you had taken the both of them under your wing, pulling a few strings behind the scenes while also trying to provide him with as normal as a life as you two could

megumi had viewed you as a mother figure, someone who looked out for him and tsumiki, teaching the two of them life skills like sewing and cooking, making sure they always have warm meals. 

you never miss their birthdays either - always making sure to get them either a cake or a small cupcake with a candle on the top to blow out just for the sake of tradition

sure, satoru loves to spoil them too, but he acted more like their chilled older brother - he definitely relies on you more as a parental figure he had lacked for quite a huge part of his childhood

he had remembered how once, when you had made him his favourite curry and rice after a long week, he just sighed and said, “thanks mum,” before he started to eat his meal 

at first you froze in shock, and  megumi did too - but before the blushing teen can apologise, you had already wrapped him up in your arms as you just cried your heart out

satoru had teasingly asked him if megumi can call him ‘dad’, to which megumi just scowled and sent his divine dogs after your brother

satoru loves to introduce you two as the ‘strongest duo’ by the way - which makes you super awkward and you hate it with a passion. he wasn’t wrong, but it’s still awkward

“we’re the Gojos - the strongest duo out there.”

“please stop calling us that.”

feel like because you’re there, geto might still be on the path to the light lmao - like mans will be a teacher in school and you three will be dub the ‘idiot trinity’ or some bullshit nickname lol - the three biggest troublemakers in the jujutsu world

yet the three most capable ones as well - absolutely drive the higher ups of the jujutsu world insane

with that being said though - the three of you definitely hashed a plan to change the jujutsu world together. even shoko agrees that there should be some change to the old ways of the jujutsu world; so the four of you decided to sign up to work as teachers at Jujutsu High 

the first group of students you took under your wing was the then first years - maki, toge, panda, and eventually yuta when he joined your little class

you are the mother for the students while geto is the responsible dad; satoru is the crazy uncle that is not allowed to supervise the students alone, and shoko is the cool aunt who lets you skip class in her office if you want

all the students have, at one point, just referred to you as ‘mum’ and you had always just accepted that with a soft smile and a pat on the top of their head

even if they are taller than you, they will willingly bend down to your height so you can pet them on the head - even megumi lets you get away with it

when itadori and nobara came into the picture, you had taken them un as your own as well - but you did spend a good 5 minutes laughing with geto at the idea that yuji manages to control sukuna like he is just an annoying imaginary friend in the back of his head that refuses to shut up

you had tried to give them some form of normality and comforts as teenagers, even if many times they were forced into very uncomfortable situations

all in all - it was utter chaos the moment both you and satoru were born. yet it was a miracle nonetheless. many times you prove to the world that your bond is stronger than people think it is, and that you two will go through anything to make sure the other is safe. 

you are the younger one, but the more responsible one too. the motherly figure that everyone turned to, even your friends and brother, who needs comfort and a warm meal. yet if provoked, you can become deadly and kill with no hesitation. it’s because of this, both you and your brother are considered as quite the deadly duo; the strongest ones around. 

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[alfredosauce50]

The anatomy of the obsessed artist [2p! Italy x reader]

Synopsis: You have the golden opportunity to display your art at a newly opened gallery. Nobody stops to look at your work until an eccentric connoisseur praises it, even asking you if he can buy it. Touched and fascinated by his personality, you agree to meet him over coffee. Now that he’s no stranger, he keeps inviting you over to his lavish estate until he realizes it’s not the art he’s so obsessed with. It’s the artist. Wordcount: 3, 686 The reader is referred to as she/her. “Nihilism represented a crude form of positivism and materialism, a revolt against the established social order; it negated all authority exercised by the state, by the church, or by the family.” - Encyclopedia of Britannica

“It's hideous.” He murmured, his eyes narrowed with contempt. They were a hot magenta hue, quick-moving and critical of everything they fixed on. How much he wished to say he was standing back to admire a masterpiece. Tossing his paintbrush into the kitchen sink with a sigh, he sauntered to the couch and plummeted down on it.

A loud clang was heard, but it never fazed his companion, who barely dodged the trajectory of the brush. “Oh, really?” They snorted. “It looks the same as every other painting you've done.”

He whipped his head to him and glared.

“Like you'd have an eye for these things, Lutz.”

Said man gave a shrug. This was probably the hundredth time they had this conversation, so he could practically predict what Luciano was about to say—and how he would wind up listening unwillingly to his passionate spiels.

“Just listen to me speak for once.”

Lutz scoffed and poured himself a hot cup of coffee. “Here we go again...” He grumbled with a distinct droop to his features.

Rolling his head back to the pristine, white ceiling, Luciano threw his hands up in emphasis. “It's the only damn thing that gives this room some color. I need to do better, Lutz. Otherwise, I'll tear this whole place down!” Even then, his animated movements were minuscule compared to the tall walls that surrounded him.

The other sipped on his mug. “If you're so stuck—” He smacked his lips. “—how about going to the new art gallery downtown? Anything to get you to shut up.” Lutz grinned at that, half-expecting him to launch a few throwing knives his way. But he never did. Instead, he jumped up and extended an index to point at him accusingly.

“You think you're so smart, huh, cazzo? Well, I might just go. Just to prove you wrong.” Grabbing his coat hanging over the couch, he threw it on and marched downstairs. As the echoes of his footsteps faded, he gave one final reckoning. “You can't rush art, dumbass! I'll turn the place upside down, and I still won't find anything worth my time.”

The volume of his thoughts had never been so loud. It was the only thing he heard in this quiet institution during its downtime. Nobody was around, save for him, but that allowed him to ramble to himself--whatever he was staring at, it was everything he had been looking for.

“This was definitely worth my time.” He muttered with a pistol grip on his chin. As he scanned over the canvas to take in the brushstrokes, he shook his head. “I hate to think he said something smart for once.” They were so violent, yet so gentle. A unique balance of nihilism and faith. Reaching up to his dark maroon hair, he dug through it and laughed in awe. “This is magnificent. Bellisima!”

“I hope you mean what you say, sir. That means a lot to me.” He turned to the voice ended up gawking at a woman. As he processed the words, he was at a loss for his own.

“Oddio--you don't mean you painted this, do you, signorina?”

She nodded coyly, much to his delight.

“Mhm. The name on the label is mine.”

At the sound of that, he gleamed and took both her hands into his own. “How much?”

She blinked, unsure of whether she heard him correctly. Was he offering to buy her work? “Sorry?”

“How much do you want for your painting? I'll pay you handsomely. One grand. Ten grand. However much you desire! I just need this in my living room. Whatever you ask for, it's a done deal!”

In your short career, you never imagined capturing someone's attention so passionately with your work. Your initial impression of the man was a rich art collector of some kind--an eccentric enthusiast--and not a connoisseur by any means. He even dressed the part, having adorned himself in a loose, silky blouse with a coat tied around his waist. His fashion was flashy and exuded confidence, though nothing else could have suited his personality.

As you talked to him over a coffee, however, it became clear to you he was much more than that.

“I've never seen somebody use color like that! You must've done lots of practice to get that good, eh?” He mused, watching you light up at his praise. There was no denying the sincerity in his voice, so you couldn't help being drawn to him and his zeal. “I'll be honest with you, bella. I'm not letting you run off before we settle on something.”

He could tell from the way you leaned in so subtly, never once breaking your eye contact as you listened to him. And knowing this did wonders--he slowly found himself drawn to you.

“Thank you, Luciano. I'm really flattered, but I can't just sell it to you. It's part of the gallery now.” You smiled gently, curling your fingers around the cup handle. Even as you sipped on your beverage, your gaze on him never faltered. And before you could catch any disappointment on his part, you waved your hands at him.

“I don't mean anything by it, honestly. I'm glad that you understand what I'm trying to say--like, you could've interpreted it completely differently. I wouldn't be able to stop you, either. But the fact that you didn't...” He followed you attentively with those sharp and mysterious orbs, but you were strangely comfortable under his scrutiny.

“Maybe we have similar minds.”

The man had been studying you as you spoke. While he did, this one, singular thought occurred to him. There was nothing in the world he loved more in the world than being heard.

“Hearing you talk is the same as being listened to,” Luciano admitted with a small laugh. Deep inside, he knew Lutz always listened. Unwillingly, that was. But being heard and understood was another story. “You take the words right out of my mouth, bella. I don't know how you do it, but you have to stop reading my mind. It's invasive.” He darted his eyes over your expression that morphed into dumbfoundedness--which served as a prelude for embarrassment.

So he couldn't help but smile flirtatiously. “Take me out to dinner first. Only then will I let you finish my sentences.”

You furrowed your brows together, but his smile was far too contagious to be staved off. The end result was an endearingly stupid face that was a cross between a frown and a grin. “Does lunch count then, you impossible little man? I mean, it's around noon.”

He shook his head, amused. Luciano expected you to pull away, but it seemed like he bit off more than he could chew. You were a handful. He was never a fan of handfuls or really anything that required his energy, but he'd be damned if this was the last time he saw you.

“But seriously, (F/N). I need your paintings. And it doesn't have to be something you've already painted.” Standing up at that, he neared your side lowered himself to your level. He settled a hand on your shoulder, much to your surprise. But you never tried to pull away. “I want you to paint for me at my place. I'll do whatever it takes. I'll drink my weight in this mediocre coffee if I have to.”

With his intoxicating personality, all he needed was a few more espressos to do the convincing.

“I can tell from your taste that you're pretty nihilistic.” You commented with a hint of disbelief. “But this is just crazy! What do you even do for a living?” All the expensive decor and extravagance of his stupidly large mansion must have costed a fortune! Lifting your head to take in the sheer size and height of his living room, you then shot him an incredulous look. “Well? I'm curious.”

Luciano leaned against the couch and folded his arms. “Oh, you don't want to know, trust me.” He grinned devilishly.

“What, are you in the mafia or something?” You joked.

He craned his head from right to left.

“Eh. Something like that.”

You blinked, not expecting him to be so frank. Then, you laughed sheepishly, suddenly feeling as if you've walked right into a trap. “... Are you serious?” The man sensed your uneasiness and walked over promptly. Before you could react, he held your arm, but it was much too gentle to stir any panic.

“Don't worry. Nobody would go after an artist I hired.” He leaned in to keep you hostage to his piercing eyes. The close proximity only heightened the tension you didn't know existed. What he said next, however, would have you blushing like a bride. “To have a target on your head means you're a liability. So unless we were an item--”

He smiled contently at the sight of your reddening cheeks. “--nothing will happen.”

Fortunately, your mortification was short-lived as you remembered your circumstances. Giving him a light shove, you walked off to his hallway. While your back was turned to him, he bit back a sharp grin, but to no avail. Man, were you feisty.

“Stop being such a womanizer and show me your studio, Luciano.” You mused, pausing in the doorway to glance at him over your shoulder. Was that playfulness he saw in your eyes?

“It isn't very professional.”

He hung his head and threw his hands up. Being scolded and ordered around was his worst pet peeve. But when you did it, he was only more compelled to misbehave.

“Mi dispiace. But I was only kidding. If I was part of the mob, my windows wouldn't be this big. Nor this abundant.” Making his way to your side, he walked with you to the said studio.

“And Luciano is a bit of a mouthful, no? You call me Luci.”

Unbeknownst to the two of you, someone else had entered the kitchen to pour themselves a drink. And boy, were they in for a show.

“You got it, boss. You call the shots.” A voice spoke in a gravely-exaggerated mobster accent.

“You're milking it...”

“I'm just joking, Luci. Let me have this moment.”

“Fine. Maybe I should've kept pretending. That'll get you to be a little more obedient.”

“And where's the fun in that?”

“Hmph.”

Lutz narrowed his eyes once the voices faded into silence. And he thought he hated being called Luci.

A mischievous smirk plastered across his face.

“Looks like somebody's found their inspiration.”

A few hours later, he appeared in the studio with a canned beer in hand. Even in such a lavish estate, no form of entertainment could beat pestering an old friend. Waltzing inside like he owned the place, he grinned toothily at what he saw. You and Luciano were busy working on a painting. But rather than using brushes, you both used your fingers.

“Hey.”

Luciano glanced at him and immediately felt the beginnings of anger simmer inside. “What do you want?”

Lutz laughed breathily. “Heh. No knives today?”

“If you don't get out, there will be!” The other whisper-shouted.

You stopped painting and turned to the newcomer with nothing short of curiosity. “... Hi. Are you Luci's henchman?” The joke was probably long dead, but you couldn't resist. Not when the stranger was built on six feet of pure muscle. “Nice to meet you.”

So this was the mysterious artist who managed to tame the bastard, huh? Lutz flattened his lips thoughtfully. “... In a way.”

“No, he's not. Now, get out. Your presence is ruining the mood... And killing my brain cells.” At the sound of that, you exploded into a burst of hearty laughter. Seeing Luciano push him out and leave colorful handprints on his tank only intensified those laughs. Once he managed to get his henchman out of the room, he whipped his head to you with a flustered glare.

“What's so funny?” He frowned. For one, he was rather taken aback at how he wasn't annoyed at you. At all. If someone like Lutz pushed their luck by teasing him, there would be more than one scar marring that punchable face of his.

“Nothing, nothing. I just thought... Maybe we could ask for his top and sell it. That was definitely a masterpiece.” You sighed, catching him off guard yet again. “It's the best work you've done today...”

The blush on his face deepened. A comment like that should've ticked him off, but he only found himself thoroughly infatuated. But that was preposterous! He was only letting this slide because you weren't that German bastard of a bum. That had to be it. But no matter what you did, he didn't have a single mean bone in his body for you. And he was about to test that theory.

“If you thought that was a masterpiece, I'll make you some more.” Marching over and undoing your apron, he wiped his fingers all over your once crisp white shirt. Looking down with a gasp, you weren't prepared for him to clap your cheeks and leave two brown handprints.

“You bitch!”

In his whole life surrounded by the worst potty-mouths, himself included, he'd never heard somebody cuss with so much sincerity. So the most logical reaction was to return the favor, if not be a little annoyed. But even as you ruined his blouse, which happened to be more expensive than everything in the room, he was cackling hysterically.

By the time you both calmed down, he had settled his chin atop your head and wrapped two arms around your neck. The paint on his face was drying up, but he was in no hurry to wash it off. Giving you a squeeze, he leaned down and pressed his cheek to yours. “You're coming tomorrow, aren't you?”

“Mhm.”

“And the day after that?”

“I don't see why not.”

“Then what about the day after that?”

You faced him and pinched his cheek affectionately, but he never complained. “If I was, what's the point of leaving, hm? I have something on that day, but I'll update you.”

Standing up at that, you felt his arms slide off of your shoulders. Luciano pulled away reluctantly, and as you left his studio, he found himself trailing after you against his own will. As quiet as he was, inside, he was tearing himself apart, torn between asking you to stay in the guest room and driving you home. But in the end, he got in the car.

Once he arrived outside your house, his body acted out unexpectedly when he shot his hand out to grab yours. The sudden contact startled you, though you could only gleam at his paint-smeared face that stifled back a thousand words. “What, do you miss me that much already?” You chuckled, much to his pleasure.

“You're just missing me too less.” He closed his eyes for a satisfied look. When he opened them again, he added this. “I'll pick you up here. Same spot. 9 am. If you don't show up in five minutes, I'll break inside and pull you out of bed.” Only then did he let you go.

“You got it, boss.”

With that said, you waved at him and made your way inside. Once the door clicked shut, he returned his gaze to the dashboard and shook his head with a defeated smile. “Oh my god.”

When he climbed the flight of stairs to appear next to the kitchen, the hiss of an espresso machine was heard. Rolling his head to it absently, he dropped his keys on the island and dug his hands through his sticky hair. Without addressing the blonde, who took an obvious interest in his disheveled appearance, he sauntered to the couch and flopped down on it.

“... Luciano.”

“What do you want?” He muffled his voice into the cushion.

Lutz walked over with a mug in hand and sipped it. Pointing to his own face, he swirled his index in circles. “You have a little something there.” When the other rolled his head to him, so did their colorful face.

The next two days saw steady progress in the project he paid you to do. While the painting moved closer to completion, he cared less and less about the finished product. At the same time, his eagerness for you to come grew exponentially. He could never admit it, but that didn't mean Lutz couldn't see right through him.

A single glance at him working in the studio was more than enough to deduce the conclusion that he was hopelessly head over heels for you. For one, it wasn't right to say he was even working anymore. Instead, he was staring at you, and sometimes, for twenty minutes or more if you were particularly immersed in your art.

This was only confirmed in due time.

Trotting downstairs to the cellar, he discovered that over ten bottles of wine had disappeared. And the culprit promptly made an appearance when he returned to the living room. Luciano was holding an empty bottle when they bumped into each other, the contact on his shoulder causing him to drop it. When it shattered on the marble floor, so did his patience.

“What the fu--watch where you're going, you fucking idiot!” He hissed, giving the other a strong shove back.

Beer fizzed out of the can and splashed onto his white tank. Lutz couldn't care less about ruining his clothes, but wasting beer? He pulled back with a growl. “I could say the same for you. I'm not the stumbling drunk here cuz' I can actually hold my weight.”

Luciano rolled his eyes and inhaled a deep breath.

“You know what, just leave me alone.” He huffed, kicking the shards on the ground. Once he scattered the glass all over the hall, he stormed off to his studio. Letting out a frustrated string of colorful words, he tore through more canvases than he cared to count. Punching a hole in one, then using another as target practice, half of the artwork was completely destroyed by the time Lutz showed up.

“I don't get it! Why am I so angry? Why can't I paint something like this?” Luciano exasperated, gesturing forcefully to the painting you were working on. Then, he marched up to the man and gripped the front of his tank. “Am I just that shit? But that can't be!”

At this point, Lutz was done with arguing.

“... You know what I'm about to say.”

Luciano threw his hands up as they chorused the same line simultaneously. “It looks the same as every other painting you've done--yeah, I know! I didn't really expect you to give me any useful advice. I just wanted you to listen to me.”

“Don't I always listen to you?”

“No--”

“Wasn't it me who suggested for you to go to that art gallery?”

“Yeah, but it's not like--it's not like you knew she was gonna show up! (F/N) being there only happened once in a blue moon. You were just lucky, so don't think you're a genius or anything, ha!”

Lutz scoffed, but his unimpressed expression quickly morphed into a shrewd one. “Accept it, liebling. You're down bad. Down astronomically. Just invite her over, and when she comes, you'll know what I mean. It's not the paintings you're making a fuss over.” He watched Luciano's hair spike up like a cat, then him light up like a Christmas tree. That little man was many things, but an honest person was not one of them.

“You think you're so smart, huh, cazzo?” Luciano pointed at him accusingly. “Well, I might just do it. Just to prove you wrong.”

When he left, Lutz clicked his tongue with raised brows.

“That's what you said last time...”

And invite you over he did. When he spotted a silhouette on the other side of the blurry glass, he sprung up from the couch and swung open the door with great gusto. There you were, as effortlessly charming as he remembered, and a little startled. You never had the chance to knock, nor process his scruffy appearance.

“Luci--hey! You look... A little more tired than I remember.”

Without a shred of hesitation, he grabbed your hand and pulled you to his bedroom. Yet again, his body was acting against his will, but perhaps, this was what he wanted in the first place. He just never admitted it. As he slowly came to terms with it, his eyes widened to dinner plates, and his heart pounded obnoxiously in his chest.

“Hey, what're you--”

He pointed wordlessly to the bed.

You shook your head, unable to figure out what he meant. “What do you want me to do?”

Luciano glowered at you, but it served as a stark contrast to the softness in his voice. “I'll pay you. As much as you want. Just stay there.” Seeing that you had yet to go along with his requests, he marched over to you and laid you down. Before you could object, he threw the blanket over you and tucked you in.

Sliding himself in from the other side, he scooted in and coiled his arms around your stomach. “Now, sleep.”

Breathing out a soft sigh, you rolled to him and brushed his mussy bangs back. “For someone so straightforward, you're not very honest, are you?” Sitting up to unzip your jacket, you proceeded to take your shirt off. When you stripped down, blood rushed to flush his cheeks as he came to realize he was completely love-struck.

“... Holy shit.”

Climbing onto his lap, you laughed over his lips and squeezed his neck. “You're really bad at hiding things. But like you said, I can read your mind.”

Luciano knitted his brows together. Then, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your mouth. “And it's very invasive. Please stop it.”

“Only if you promise to pay me in the morning.”

“... You're not a prostitute.”

“Oh, but you are one too. We're all whores, if you think about it. We just sell different parts of ourselves.”

“Go to sleep, idiota.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

[kbsd]

not sure if you’ve answered this before, but what’s your process look like when you make an amv? i’m just curious and in constant awe of ppl who can make videos like you do :)

hello all!!! i have answered this before and i have a vid help tag with other asks i’ve gotten about stuff like this! but i’ve gotten several more messages along these lines so i’m just going to answer a bunch of them together (under a cut since i love to ramble about editing lol). i do just wanna say i’m definitely not the authority on video editing and obv everyone has their own techniques!

edit: i just finished typing all this up and it’s SO long so sorry in advance LMAO god bless anyone who reads this entire thing

so i work in news tv and we have a very specific workflow for writing scripts, sourcing video, producing, and editing. i’ve just applied that to making amvs! for every video i make, i copy the song lyrics into a google doc and adjust them to match the song i’ve cut (i often will trim songs for time and/or content purposes). then i start planning! i’ll mark down what clip i want to use for each lyric next to that line, and any sound bites i want to use (with episode numbers!). i’ll color code between video and sound bites and lyrics, so my scripts end up looking something like this (for my honeybee amv):

doing the planning ahead of time makes everything much easier when it’s a video that spans the whole show or involves a lot of sourcing, like honeybee or sports analogies. that way when i get to the actual editing process, i already know what i’m going to do and have a game plan. for videos like happy ending or believe it or not, where i’m mainly just pulling from a few episodes, i can just plan it in my head as opposed to writing it all down, and produce as i edit. obviously i do make in-the-moment decisions while editing—sometimes a shot doesn’t work the way i thought it would, or i go where the video takes me—but planning ahead definitely helps. i know some people use spreadsheets as well, with columns for lyrics, video clips, and sound bites if applicable. once you find a system that works, it actually goes pretty quickly.

as for sourcing clips themselves/finding clips within episodes, i talked about that here and kind of here. the short version is that transcripts are a must, and the supernatural wiki is hugely helpful by cataloguing all the hugs, prayers, phone calls, etc. in the show. gifmakers that tag episode numbers on their posts are your friends. it gets easier the more video you make—that’s another huge reason i make the google docs for each video (even the ones i plan in my head, i end up going back and making a loose script with episode notes just for reference). if i can’t remember where something is but i know i used it in another video, i can easily reference past scripts!

i also cut all my videos in the same project in premiere pro, so i can flip between them easily. instead of checking a past script, i can just go to the video sequence itself and copy the clip i’m looking for! this was especially helpful when i match cut together the 5x18 and 4x22 wall slam shots for my bestie video, and then stole it from myself for honeybee hahaha. at any given time i have at least 8 sequences open:

because of the sheer volume of videos i make, it’s worth it for me to download the entire show—i have all 327 episodes in HD, plus deleted scenes. if you think you’re only going to make a few videos, i’d start with scene packs. you can usually just google “destiel [or whatever ship/character you’re looking for] scene packs” and there will be any number of ones you can download. if you need other specific scenes, you can always download/torrent individual episodes or screen record netflix (that’s what i did before i got HD download links). i’m happy to share my links if you DM, but be warned it’s a lot of disk space (about 500GB on my hard drive). someone also compiled every destiel scene, downloadable here.

having every episode already loaded in premiere for all my projects also makes it a lot easier to source clips. once i use a clip in a video, i’ll put a marker on the episode file, so that after a while i have most of the important scenes/lines marked to easily find them. to give you an idea, this is my episode file in premiere for 12x10 lily sunder has some regrets (markers at destiel scenes, the car fight, hot girl cas, etc.). markers are the green tabs along the bottom:

premiere also lets you color code and name markers, so ONE DAY i will go back and color code them all. the ones above are all the same color, but in a perfect world, i’d have a myraid—for destiel shots like hugs, touches, looks; for important pieces of dialogue; for action shots; etc. but for now this works ok for me, so that’s a project for another time!

between detailed scripts, one giant premiere project, markers, the wiki, and my own memory, i have so many points of reference that i can usually find any clip i need in about 2 minutes max. sound bites are often harder to start out, or tiny specific shots i haven’t used before, and that’s when i turn to tumblr gifsets or beloved mutuals to crowdsource. but if you’re as obsessive about marking/keeping neat scripts as i am, it gets easier and easier with every video you make. that’s part of why i’m able to cut videos together so quickly. (also i want to stress i do this for a living and have to produce/edit a new piece for my show every day so i’m used to it. and compared to constantly updating content/sources and news that changes every day, 327 highly documented episodes that never change are much easier to handle hahaha)

this is all great for me since i make so many videos and plan to continue doing so, but if you’re only making a few, this level of work isn’t worth it imo. really it’s all about developing a system that works for you. whatever you do with episodes/sourcing, though, i cannot recommend planning things out in a script ahead of time enough. 

everything i just mentioned is producing, though. for the editing process, i usually do it in this order:

music first. any parts i want to cut, i make sure it all sounds smooth

then soundbites. i usually try to weave them into the lyrics—i have characters talk in breaks between lines or instrumental sections as much as possible. i’ll sometimes go so far as looped/extending an intsrumental part to make room for the soundbite i want there lol. if i do have dialogue over a line, i do the sound mixing/levels at this point as well to make sure everything is audible/one doesn’t overpower the other. (also i always include the video that goes with these bites when i drop them in, and decide later if i want to show the character speaking or have other clips cover the dialogue)

once i have all the audio locked in, then i bring in all my other video clips. sometimes i edit completely chronologically, sometimes jumping from section to section—it depends on the song or how i’m feeling

double check sound mixing. i usually listen to my videos through a few times, with headphones and without to make sure it’ll sound good no matter how people watch it

once i have picture and audio lock, i go through and color correct my clips. i’m basic and just use lumetri color in premiere, and usually just play with brightness, saturation, temperature, and tint until i like it

render and export! :)

i always have several audio tracks, but i try to keep my video tracks condensed. i’ll drop clips on a V2 level, and edit a section there, and drop the whole chunk down to V1 so i know it’s finished. that way when i leave and come back i can know where i left off/what’s done/etc. to give you an idea, this is the timeline for my what the hell video:

i always render as H.264 with high bitrate, and make sure to check “render at maximum depth” and “use maximum render quality” for the best quality. i’m sorry, but i don’t know what the equivalent options are in final cut, imovie, kdenlive, etc. i post on youtube mostly so i don’t have to sacrifice quality, but usually just using a lower bitrate will get you under the tumblr file size limit and it’ll still look good.

as for the anon who asked about “polishing”: first of all, thank you!! second of all, it’s in the details. all of this is a matter of taste and my own insanity, but here are some little things i always try to do:

after i color correct, i blur out any credits from the starts of episodes. i use gaussian blur for this, but really any blur tool works

as much as possible, i avoid clips where we see a character’s mouth move but don’t hear the words. in tv/film we call it “lip flap” and i just think it looks messy. also i’m trained to avoid it at all costs at work hahaha. it’s more for serious videos that this matters a lot to me (e.g. i think i did a really good job eliminating lip flap in my happy ending amv)—for comedy videos i don’t sweat it as much

i put audio fades on the start and end of every single audio clip i use, even if i don’t think i need it, to make sure everything sounds smooth

i use markers for timing, especially in action-y videos like what the hell. i’ll put a marker on the clip i’m using at the exact moment a punch lands, and in the song on the beat. if i have the magnet/snap in timeline tool on i can just easily snap them together instead of having to spend time finagling it

this is such a small thing but i dip/cut to black for a tiny bit at the start and end of every video. this way if i post with tumblr video player, there’s black between the loops, and it gives you a beat before the video restarts. i do this even on videos i post on youtube, just because i think it looks nicer/more professional

this is 1,500 words so i’m going to stop myself before i pull something. if you have follow-up questions feel free to ask and i’ll continue to add them to the vid help tag, but any more questions about sourcing clips or my process in general i’ll just link this post going forward. anyone who made it this far, i am sending to a telepathic kiss. thank you for reading and happy editing!

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 1-16: 命运的拐点 Destiny’s Turning Point Translation

“Destiny is like a gust of wind… Red leaves flutter, flying away in the face of it.  And it is when the winds pick up ― That you meet once more…”

“Rather than daydreaming all day, thinking about how you can soar higher, perhaps you’d be better off first learning how to walk.”

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

I failed. And right when I was just a step away from becoming the champion too.

I felt an odd sense of heaviness overwhelm me during the long time it took for the curtain call to end, something that I’d never felt before. It was sort of a mixture of both an inexplicable sense of dissatisfaction and suspicion.

I don’t know how or when I got myself off the stage.

Sariel’s words echoed in my mind. He said that I’d completely disregarded the essence of what it means to be a Fashion Designer… But what exactly does he mean by that?

All the contestants walking in front of me were relieved beyond measure that it was all over now, but the more I thought about it, the more confused I got. I walked towards a quieter place alone.

The courtyard garden at the foot of the corridor appeared serene and mysterious at night. The bright moonlight filtered down, shining upon the flowers and leaves alike. The night breeze carried along with it the faint fragrance of flowers.

❖☆———————————★❖

I lowered my head and glanced at the potted plant by my feet. It was a flower yet to fully bloom, with many smaller flower buds hidden beneath its wide leaves, which were gently rubbing against my ankle.

It was akin to a small pet that was showing affection to its owner in a bid to comfort them.

Despite knowing that the notion of comfort was merely an illusion caused by the night breeze, I still couldn’t help but feel my heart warm.

MC: Thanks…

It was then that I heard the squeak of the glass doors opening to admit another.

Illuminated under the moonlight, the lanky figure gradually walked closer

❖☆———————————★❖

A crisp white suit and a pair of icy eyes.

MC: Sariel…

He looked a little appalled to see me here, but that flicker of emotion was soon concealed.

Sariel didn’t speak. He directed his gaze past me, staring at the plants within the garden. His eyes reflected the faint moonlight, appearing as beautiful as coloured glass.

He looked surprisingly serene here, compared to the frostiness he’d displayed back up on stage earlier.

However, the cold comment he’d given me immediately flashed back in my mind just as I was musing about this.

❖☆———————————★❖

Sariel: You absolutely do not understand the meaning of your given theme at all.

❖☆———————————★❖

My head had been in a mess back then, so I totally missed the chance to enquire further about it.

Perhaps his being here right now was fate’s way of giving me another chance to do so.

MC: M-Mr. Sariel…!

Sariel silently turned his gaze over. His eyes were as calm as ever, the only difference was his slightly furrowed eyebrows.

MC: I’m (Y/n), one of the participating Fashion Designers of the contest today.

Sariel: I know.

MC: I really like your works, and I’ve always seen you as my role model.

Sariel: So?

MC: So…

★Night Choice: Read his body language and remain silent. 

I lapsed into silence the moment I met his gaze.

That look on his face spoke volumes. He didn't even bother hiding the fact that anything I said would fall upon deaf ears.

Sariel: Are you presuming that I'll understand just what it is you're trying to express in your work if I give you a chance to explain yourself?

I looked at him in surprise, nodding.

The sides of his lips immediately curled up into a sneer.

Sariel: The organizer prepared hundreds upon hundreds of material choices. You clearly had the choice of choosing a more suitable material, yet you still used the most unfitting material: 80 twist Black Chiffon.

MC: That's because I wanted to express the tenacity of "Fashion Designers".

Sariel: You're only creating this to realize your idea.

Sariel: Be it high twist Black Chiffon, or those blasphemous roses that clash so terribly bad that it leaves people speechless...

Sariel: Everything merely falls under your own "Design Ideas", with no consideration whatsoever about whether this is the right way to go about making it into an actual product.

☆Light Choice: Explain your design choice

MC: So, I want to know why you think I don’t understand the theme. I hope I can explain just what the ideas that went into my design are.

I originally thought that he’d outright refuse me, but he never interrupted me, and neither did he leave. He’d only watched me calmly as I rattled off. Does this mean that he acquiescences with me?

I mustered up my courage and started rattling off my explanation.

MC: I chose to use Black Chiffon with the highest twist available, 80 twists high, not just because it can attain and support the design I wanted to go for.

MC: It was also because I felt that it was a good representation of the tenacity of Fashion Designers.

MC: And as for the rose ornaments… I chose it because it represents why I initially wanted to become a Fashion Designer.

MC: I don’t know others will go about interpreting what the term “Fashion Designer” means, but to me, I feel that…

MC: There is no one answer to this, and there’s also no way one can take it too far in any whichever direction.

After hearing me out, the sides of Sariel’s lips curled into a blatant sneer.

Sariel: So, you think that the problem here lies with the way you think, and hence, your idea. That’s why you’re trying so hard to explain and make it clear to me, am I right?

MC: …Is it not?

Sariel: Your sheer lack of understanding is astounding.

Sariel: 80 twist Black Chiffon might be able to support and display the design you wish for it to. But for something that’s being made into a top hat, this high twist amount is the most unsuitable for the task.

Sariel: You’ve chucked the elegance aside, completely disregarded the volume it is supposed to have, and most importantly, it is utterly uncomfortable to wear.

Sariel: There are better ways you could represent “Roses” if you so wished. You shouldn’t have forcibly added this artefact that clashes with the whole outlook of the piece to your work.

Sariel: Only mediocre people will wish to attain recognition through their explanations.

Sariel: Everyone out there will only be able to grasp what it is you’re trying to convey through your work.

Sariel: In your work… That’s if we can even call that a piece of work…

Sariel: I don’t know why you have placed so much sentiment into it. So much, that it has totally lost its purpose as a hat.

He was surprisingly serious when it came to talking about design itself, much unlike the arrogance and iciness he’d displayed back on stage.

Sariel: Designers ought to know just what the product is being created for.

Sariel: You do not yet hold the qualities of what it takes to be a good Designer.

Sariel: Rather than daydreaming all day, thinking about how you can soar higher, perhaps you’d be better off first learning how to walk.

His words were like a bullet, piercing me right through the heart. I stared at him, stunned and unable to form a single word.

He was absolutely right. I’d always gone straight for the concept. Whilst my heart wanted to explore new concepts within the given theme, it’d also ignored the most important thing.

I bowed to him in utter seriousness.

MC: I understand. I will do my best to correct that. Thank you.

Sariel: … What you intend to do from now on is none of my concern.

It was as if he’d reverted back into the judge, atop a pedestal and far out of reach. A completely different person from the one who’d been seriously discussing my design with me just moments earlier.

Watching his retreating figure, I felt nothing short of conflicted.

It was almost as if I’d gotten the answer to the question that had been nagging at the back of my mind for some time now in this unpleasant exchange of ours.

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 1-14) | Next Part: (Chapter 1-19 Light) / (Chapter 1-19 Night)

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Amity”

Welcome back, everyone! I hated this episode.

As in, I’m nominating “Amity” for the Most Stupid Episode of RWBY award. Was there some cool action? Yes. Good Penny development? Mm hmm. Some surprise cameos in the Maya Engine? You know it. Was all of it almost entirely undermined by the sheer number of times I went, “Wait, what?” over the course of twenty minutes?

Sadly, yes.

But let��s start at the beginning.

We get a gorgeous opening shot of Amity Tower and, aesthetics aside, my first thought was, “There’s no one around to protect it?” I mean, this was Ironwood’s super secret project. Watts just tried to sabotage it a few hours ago. Prior to the reveal that Amity wasn’t finished (cough), Team RWBY was trying to convince Ironwood to give calling others a chance, but you’re telling me after all that there’s not a single guard there? Pietro, Maria, and Penny just waltzed up without any problems? The only reason it might be abandoned—yes, even with a grimm attack looming—is if it was useless. Because remember, it was supposed to be useless. Unfinished. Not worth protecting in its current state because its current state is non-operational. That would have explained why Ironwood would leave it undefended, yet as we’ve known since the premiere, Amity was apparently finished by magic at some point, leaving the question of why it’s unguarded (or why Ironwood wouldn’t want to use it himself for something) up in the air. Pun not intended. 

So these three have free rein to do whatever they want and what they want to do is, apparently, blow up the dust mine. Love that we spent an entire volume worrying about dwindling resources! I’d find the sacrifice justifiable under the circumstances if this Amity plan weren’t so foolish. Also, I’m not going to pretend that I know anything about explosives and whether providing that kind of “thrust” would actually work, but in this case I think RWBY’s sci-fi/fantasy status gives it a pass.

Penny, however, isn’t so sure. “Dad? This… does not seem like a very good idea.” Yeah. Pietro gives a short speech about good ideas not necessarily being best ideas, which would have been a great perspective to adopt for the series’ massive Ironwood arc, not a three minute solution to a problem I didn’t even know existed until now.

Pietro also weirdly teleports during this scene? He’s talking to Penny outside of the tower, tinkering with things, and then the next sentence he’s suddenly deep inside it. I mean, based on the dialogue this sentence could have come later, but it doesn’t read that way given that they were just chatting. It feels like a continuous conversation. He was outside one second, now he’s not. 

During all this Maria is doing… something with a mech. That she got from who knows where. I really don’t know what the point of this was besides a very brief airship fight, but I’m just happy Maria is doing something. In fact, she’ll do far more later in the episode—we’ll get to that—so congratulations, RWBY, we can officially ignore half of your Maria square on the bingo card. Keep her alive for the next nine episodes and you’re golden. 

Our trio has the message ready to go which they recorded… when? Sometime before everyone split based on the fact that Ruby is standing in the Happy Huntress’ hideout. This episode throws out a LOT of information that seems to come out of nowhere and doesn’t hold up well in terms of timing. Or, you know, general sense. Take, for example, the next exchange between Penny and Pietro. She wants to stay here in case no one is able to come help Atlas and Pietro panics about her staying with them, heavily implying that they’re leaving leaving. Once they go up they can’t come back down because otherwise… why not just send out the message, land, and then Penny goes off again to help? Later in the episode landing seems inevitable and then it seems planned for—what, are Pietro and Maria just going to hang up there forever? So what’s the conflict here?

Specifically, what’s the conflict for Penny? Amity should just be a quick side mission she completes before heading back into battle. Why does she care about doing what’s essentially an errand while Ruby nurses Nora back to health? She’s not missing anything. I’m having a hard time understanding why she’s acting like getting the message out means she’s removed from the fight indefinitely. Pietro, however, makes a little more sense if we read it simply as him not wanting Penny to be involved in the fight, period. As we see later, he fears for her safety and will do everything he can to keep her here with him, safe: “I’m your father. I’m telling you, you belong on Amity.”

Penny gives a sad “Yes, sir” and Maria chides Pietro with, “Don’t you think Penny has had enough people telling her what to do?”

Oh boy. There’s so much wrong with this line. The general demonization of ever following orders, even when those orders are sound. The comparison between Ironwood’s new villainy/his “bootlickers” (“Yes, sir”) and a father’s justifiable fear. Ignoring that Ruby has also been giving orders and no one is reminding her that Penny is an autonomous person capable of deciding things for herself. Where was this sort of chiding when she took away Penny’s scroll and spoke for her to Ironwood?

So Penny, of course, flies up and I guess provides them with the launch sequence or something? She sort of perks up and makes tech noises, then the tower is ready to go. Just like that. 

Pietro makes a joke about not having time to install seatbelts.

Funny, shouldn’t there be safety measures for the people operating the tower? If the tower was finished and ready to go? 🙃

Everything is going to plan until Cinder shows up, melting a giant hole while Neo pilots the airship through it. So she came! Too bad she’s not going to achieve anything. Despite the stowaways, the bomb Penny left goes off and the dust mine explodes in a massive cloud of color, sending Amity up into the sky. This pops up on Ironwood’s feed and he gives an ominous “It’s time.”

For the first minute or so no one can move due to the pressure and Cinder takes the time to taunt Penny some, saying she expected her friends to be here and, since they’re not, she’s just “a tool to be used.” While she lashes verbally she also summons a massive number of swords. When they’re able to fight Penny is briefly overwhelmed…

…Until Maria comes to her aid!

“Get away from her, you bitch!”

That was great. If anyone other than Tyrian was going to curse, you know it had to be our snarky grandma. So I’m cheering, watching Maria make use of her (acquired off screen) tech to help, despite the fact that she’s too old to fight anymore and—

Wait.

Okay, here’s my problem with this battle. First of all, Cinder’s group should have decimated them. This is an experienced Maiden (see: Raven fight) with a grimm arm vs. a girl who only got the powers a few hours ago. I know a few weeks back I mentioned how insanely powerful Penny is in theory, but that was before she was nearly taken out by the Ace Ops. You know, the group who was all knocked unconscious by a bunch of half-trained, exhausted teenagers. So the comparisons here don’t make Penny look too good. More importantly—because Cinder doesn’t have a great track record anymore either—she’s backed by ‘I was kicking a Maiden’s ass before she whipped out her magic’ Neo and ‘I can make anyone see anything and I just mentioned last episode that I’ve been working on this semblance’ Emerald. They are a power team. Who is Penny backed by? A non-combat scientist and a woman who stopped fighting years ago.

Right?

I have no problem with Maria being powerful. In fact, after her Grimm Reaper reveal I had hoped we’d see her fight, both to give the group a power to aspire to—here’s what a fully trained huntress with experience looks like. This is what our personal inspiration and a huntress beloved by the world looks like—and to have an older fighter providing diversity. Sure, there’s Ozpin, but he reincarnates into young bodies. Maria is a Mexican coded, disabled, old as balls fighter and that’s AWESOME. Problem is… she never fought. She hobbles around with her cane, using it in a way Ozpin never used his, implying that she really needs it. She’s not spry anymore. Every time there’s a battle she’s in an airship or other tech, providing help through the use of an assistive device. She never offers to train anyone. We never see her accompanying a group—like JNOR—to provide extra protection. During the grimm attack Maria exchanges a fearful look with Pietro and then presumably hides in his shop off screen. Why has the story been ignoring Maria when she can fight like this? How can she fight like this when we haven’t seen her throw so much as a punch since we met her? 

I mean, this is Neo! Neo. One of the most powerful, non-Maiden fighters we’ve seen to date. She took out Jaune, Nora, Ren, and Oscar without breaking a sweat, but a few minutes with Maria has her collapsed on the ground?

Something is very wrong with this fight. Either the writing nerfed Neo to allow Maria to win, or the writing has been pushing one of the most powerful characters off screen, relegating her to comic relief. Maria should be insanely powerful given her Grimm Reaper status. I had come to accept that she was powerful and, like people in real life, simply lost that with age. Now, the story suddenly reveals that this was never the case.

During all this Emerald helps Neo one (1) time, despite presumably standing there watching the entire fight. Before it begins Neo randomly decides to turn into Ruby, but then has dropped the illusion by the time we return. Maria is laughing like a loon for the first half of the battle. The only reason she (briefly) looses is because she gets distracted. Then Penny K.O.’s Neo’s aura with a single blast.

See, this is why I rarely enjoy the fights anymore. Beyond that fact that I thought some of it was rather lackluster compared to our Penny vs. Ace Ops fight, it just doesn’t make sense. There’s moment after moment that has me scratching my head and if you’re going, “Huh?” at the screen the whole time, it’s pretty hard to get immersed in the story.

During all this they reach the necessary altitude to broadcast, but it won’t go through because of a “stabilizer fail.” You mean the giant hole that Cinder blew in the side of the tower? 

Never mind that everyone except Penny should be dead by now. How are they breathing up there? It’s like if someone blew a hole in your airplane and everyone just went about their tasks as usual. 

You’ve gotta input the code, Penny.

I joke, but Pietro does start desperately typing. I guess because stabilizers might be fixed with a code or something? Anything is possible in this show.

It’s the Penny vs. Cinder fight that I’m bored with though. At least before Cinder manages to nearly the powers. I think part of it is because we already got this fight last volume, partly because they don’t do much that we haven’t seen from them both before: Penny flies around a lot, Cinder tosses variously summoned weapons, etc. Details I did appreciate though were the return of Cinder’s arrows and the fact that she didn’t let Penny lead her from Amity for long. Look at our villain making a smart decision!! Love that.

Cinder starts destroying the tower instead and Penny asks why she’d want to serve Salem. “I don’t serve anyone and you wouldn’t either if you weren’t built that way!” Penny looks sadly down at Pietro and for one horrible moment I thought the story would actually have her buy into that nonsense, but then Penny rallies and announces that she chooses when to fight because she wants to protect those she loves.

Penny has some really great moments here. What’s less great is the setup for them. I mean… why is Pietro in danger? Penny is clearly trying to keep the top portion of the tower from collapsing after Cinder’s attack, but you’re telling me the tech-obsessed scientist hasn’t put flight capabilities into his chair? That’s not how he got way up high on the outside of the tower, it was just a random hatch or something? When every piece of tech in RWBY serves triple-duty, the Atlas tech mastermind hasn’t included the one thing in his massive chair that would save him here? It’s all very… “Really?” Especially when Cinder is smart enough to realize that Penny cares about the tower, but not realize she cares more about her dad. Just grab Pietro and threaten him, demanding that Penny stand down so Cinder can grab the powers. Penny, horrified by her father’s potential death (and ambivalent about having this responsibility in the first place) lets her. Something other than this weird setup of destroying the platform itself. 

Penny’s scream though is fantastic. Kudos to Taylor for that moment. So yeah, Cinder starts taking the power—did she get a bit then, like with Amber?—before Penny rallies and knocks her off. From then on Cinder doesn’t stand a chance. Emerald reappears to provide assistance in the form of an illusion, except that Penny’s tech allows her to see through it with ease. The real Cinder is marked with ‘Danger’ and Penny takes her out easily once Cinder doesn’t think she needs to dodge anymore.

I should be feeling something considering that Penny just won a battle against the woman who orchestrated her murder volumes back, in the exact same place where she died… but I’m not. Penny’s resurrection was shrugged off. Amity was used for joke license parties. I’m endlessly confused about what message RT is aiming for in regards to Penny’s autonomy (a real girl, but hackable) and this fight has been a collection of power ups, power downs, or skills just conveniently not working. What improvements has Emerald made to her semblance? This is everything we’ve seen from her before. When did we establish that Penny’s android nature makes her immune to techniques of this nature? I don’t mind that she is immune—in fact, it’s a cool skill to give her—I just wish this sort of stuff didn’t suddenly appear in the story only when the plot most needs it to. Or, to be more charitable, it would be a cool reveal if the rest of the fight held up better. I don’t mind a, “Hell yeah, Penny had the trump card she needed to win!” if the whole scene wasn’t Team Cinder being oddly weak the whole time. The most they manage to do is escape via Emerald threatening to fill the tower with holes from her gun… after the tower has had a hole blown through it, shot with flaming arrows, and had two of the beams keeping it in place melted. The most Cinder accomplishes here is unintentionally putting Penny in a position where she falls when she’s hacked. That’s it.

The villains should have won. Not just because of the team dynamics making victory a very likely outcome, but because allowing the group to successfully get their message out was one of the worst things RWBY has done to date. 

Gimme just a moment to get there. 

Amity is drifting back down, out of the range they need to send the broadcast, so Penny offers to “hold Amity in place” until the message is done. Pietro freaks out… why? He starts to say “Even just the temperature out there—” implying that the cold and altitude can kill Penny, except she fought Cinder outside no problem. Literally minutes ago. Hell, Cinder was fine outside and she’s not an android. 

There’s that massive hole letting the atmosphere in too. I’m so confused by these conflicts that randomly appear and, as such, I can’t take the emotion attached to them seriously. How can I be invested in Pietro’s worry about this killing Penny and Penny offering to sacrifice herself when I don’t understand why it’s dangerous to begin with? 

And it is treated like a sacrifice. Penny tells him that she’s trying to “live her life,” kisses Pietro as a sort of goodbye, and spends a few moments enjoying the beauty of the night sky. 

She’s acting like she’s about to die and yet none of this comes across as particularly dangerous. Indeed, Penny pushes Amity for as long as Ruby’s message needs her to and then, presumably, would have come back inside, a-okay, if she hadn’t been hacked. This is like that Parks and Rec moment:

Except it’s treated seriously. Penny is doing something mundane based on what we’ve seen her do before and the fact that this cold/pressure isn’t negatively impacting anyone else who experiences it, let alone the android. So why is the story trying to convince me that this is a death sentence?

Combine this with Penny’s origins: she was built to “save the world.” That’s why Pietro created her, to fight these exact sort of battles. So why is he so resistant to her doing just that? I’m not saying he can’t change his mind and grow to love her as more than a tool—in fact, their relationship is one of the few things I’m enjoying about this volume—I just wish we’d seen how that came about. When did Pietro move from building Ironwood a weapon to having a daughter? Back in Volume 3 he was on Ironwood’s side about Penny not having friends or going out because it was too dangerous for someone like her. She has secrets to maintain and responsibilities to prep for because she was, first and foremost, created for a specific task. We get an inkling through is admission that he can’t bear to see her die again that Penny’s first destruction really changed his view of her, but all of that happened off screen. We had a whole volume with Pietro prior to this where we might have watched him struggle with his new understanding of Penny as his child, rather than dumping this on us literal seconds before she engages in this non-sacrifice. We know almost nothing about Pietro except what tiny scraps we’ve been told, so dramatic lines like, “I don’t care about the big picture, I care about my daughter!”—while wonderful—appear to come out of nowhere in regards to his development. It’s jarring. Early RWBY presented Pietro as a morally ambiguous scientist aligned with Ironwood, then he suddenly became a scientist who loved his creation in Volume 7, the scientist who betrayed Ironwood, then Volume 8 has Penny dropping “Dad” left and right and Pietro willing to throw away helping a kingdom for her sake. When did all these changes happen? Where’s the progression?

Also, I hope people understand that this is why the world needs someone like Ironwood. Is it heartwarming that Pietro wants to ditch their plan at the last second for the sake of his daughter? Hell yeah. Is that good for the millions of other people who would like their own family members to survive this war too? Nope. “I don’t care about the big picture,” while human and great characterization, is dangerous when the rest of the world depends on you. Whoever runs this show doesn’t have the luxury of saving their preferred, individual life at the expense of everyone else.

So Penny goes out and gets Amity high enough for Ruby’s recording to start, complete with her acting funny-awkward for the first few seconds.

The cameos we get throughout this? Excellent. The speech itself? Rather horrifying. So the good: we get glimpses of everyone else in this show that the story has essentially left behind. Saphron, Terra, and Whitley start things off. 

(Interesting that Whitely went to his father’s office rather than his room...) 

Sun and Neptune (even though that “Dude” again messes with tone).

Ilia getting a call from Ghira.

The group sitting with a recovering Nora while Ruby watches her own words with the most ridiculous expression.

Tai, desperate not to lose the one link to his daughters he’s seen in years. (Side note: I’m not interested in any of the Tai hate. He’s still at home because the writers don’t know what to do with him and because Ruby literally ran away. Are people made at Ghira and Kali for not running after their daughter too? No, because they’re minor characters that the story needed to sideline.)

Tyrian, sitting beside a very pleased looking Salem... 

(Love that she’s petting him.)

Even the shop dude!

Oh yeah, and MOTHERFUCKING GLYNDA.

I’m thrilled to see her. In the sense that I love getting her in the new engine, but I’m salty that she’s unlikely to become an important part of the story again. In fact, there are so many characters at this point that she shouldn’t be re-incorporated, just because that would bloat the cast even more. That… and did they really have to give her massive cleavage? The darker glasses are fine—even if I personally found them a bit distracting compared to her original lenses—but seriously, why does a woman always reappear with even bigger breasts?

At this point everything in RWBY has a sour taste attached to it because it’s been handled so badly for so many years. It’s only now, watching them do many of the things I wanted them to do volumes ago, that I realize how badly they’ve played themselves. RT messed up so many core aspects that when they re-appear they can’t hope to provide the same sort of enjoyment we would have gotten if they’d never been dropped and/or messed up to begin with.

Case in point: Ruby’s speech. I’m not going to cover the stupidity of telling the world about Salem because I’ve already talked about that to death on my blog, but I do want to add that Ruby managed to accomplish that dubious task in the absolute worst way possible. I need a list for this one.

So, about RWBY ruining core parts of its story? We had a whole volume about how horrifying learning about Salem’s immortality was, something we never resolved because the cast randomly went from thinking they’d entered a doomed war to being #confident about how they’ll win. But at the very least they’ll be careful and considerate when they tell others that very demoralizing info, right? Ha. Ruby never even uses the term “immortal.” She mentions Salem being around for “centuries”—which, remember, was info the group also had but never put two and two together—and then says that “Just because she can’t be destroyed doesn’t mean she can’t be beaten.” What does that mean to people who have never heard of Salem before now? Ruby doesn’t even explain who she is! What’s a “force” in this context? A person? An entity? Endless grimm? She gives the people nothing here.

Alongside just casually dropping that Salem has been around for “centuries,” Ruby says that she is “a force we’ve faced before,” as if the world has ever had to deal with an outright attack from her. No, Ruby. They haven’t faced this before. That’s the point.

“I know the idea of Maidens and Relics seems crazy”—does she even mention them before this?? I don’t think she does. Ruby just name dropped two things and never bothered to explain wtf they were.

Also, great job telling the whole world, filled with bad guys not already aligned with Salem, that there are two powerful, mystery things out there that they can now start hunting down. That’s why Ozpin decided to keep the Maidens quiet in the first place. He says in Volume 3 that people were killing them when they knew they existed.

She tells everyone that Glynda and Theodore can vouch for all this information, just casually dropping that responsibility into their lap. I mean, can you even IMAGINE being Glynda right now? This kid you taught for one year heads back home after your school falls, you lose touch with the inner circle after Ozpin dies, and then said kid suddenly appears on every scroll and TV in Remnant, telling the entire world that YOU, personally, can explain to them the things you’ve helped keep hidden for a good portion of your adult life. You are one of two people they can now turn to for answers. If I were Glynda I would be furious.

She also says that Theodore and Glynda “might even be able to organize a way to fight back” RUBY. WHAT DO YOU THINK THE INNER CIRCLE WAS? A KNITTING CLUB? WHAT ELSE HAS OZPIN BEEN DOING FOR A THOUSAND YEARS EXCEPT “ORGANIZING A WAY TO FIGHT BACK”? 

“But, sadly, General Ironwood can no longer be trusted.” Wow. That’s one hell of a simplified take to give to a world already working under the incorrect assumption that Atlas caused the Fall of Beacon, an assumption Ruby admitted was wrong to Cordovin. So let’s unite the world except for this one leader, right? So much for practicing what you preach. 

“If she was really unstoppable she wouldn’t have acted with such caution before now.” Oh boy, that’s risking a lot on Ruby’s interpretation of Salem’s motives. After eight years even we, the audience, don’t know why Salem didn’t attack until now, so where did Ruby get the idea that it must be because she fears them? That’s not the real explanation based on how happy Salem looks while hearing the message. When did Ruby even think about this? Outside of Nora’s realization that maybe someone other than Ozpin could beat her, we haven’t seen the group discuss Salem at all, but now Ruby thinks she has everything figured out? I honestly want her to explain her thought process here. Does she think Ozpin was mistaken about the immortality business and if he’d just had the guts to unite everyone and attack her, Salem would have been defeated lifetimes ago? 

(Funny how that was Ironwood’s plan...) 

Ruby ends with another call to band together because “That’s how we’ll win!” complete with smiling energy.

With the exception of the cameos I hated every moment of this. The unclear reason why Ruby thinks bringing the world together is the answer in the face of how badly that’s gone each and every time others have done it, Amity magically becoming available for them to use, her dropping in random beliefs we’ve never seen her express before, turning the whole world against Ironwood, failing to actually explain any of this… I mean, imagine you’re in Remnant’s place for a second:

This child (looking entirely unprepared) suddenly hacks every device and tells you that the most powerful kingdom in the world is under attack. Who is attacking it? It’s someone you’re familiar with! But not really. It’s Salem. Who’s Salem? I won’t say, but she’s responsible for every bad thing from the White Fang to the grimm themselves. Those Relics and Maidens, those are real crazy sounding, huh? Oh, I forgot to say what they are? Nm that’s not important. Talk to my old teacher and someone I’ve never met if you’re confused. What is important is that we all come together. Except Ironwood. I don’t trust him. But I expect you all to trust everyone else, including me! Because we can totally win against this “force” I haven’t defined. You should help us. In whatever non-specific way you choose. Should you come to Atlas and save us all from the confusingly explained attack we’re under? Fight an immortal enemy somehow, with the forces you don’t have, cross who knows how many miles in under a day? I don’t know. You all can figure the preparations part out :) 

If I were watching I would, at best, think this was a prank. At worst I’d be panicking over a whole lot of scary information, none of which I understand. Which in this world brings grimm.

Ruby should, in an internally consistent story, have just caused a massive number of attacks across the globe. She should be responsible for the biggest mass grimm death Remnant has ever seen. In fact, that’s my final hope for the series. I want the world to lose its mind at this confusing, terrifying announcement, from rioting in the streets to grimm swarming major cities. Ruby is left dumbfounded at the destruction she’s caused. No one can—or will—come to assist Atlas. The Kingdom falls, taking plenty of civilians with it. Ozpin escapes and is finally allowed his anger, wanting to know how the safety measures he spent lifetimes building were undone by her in one profoundly stupid move. Ironwood (if he’s still alive) coldly tells them that they could have left and saved who and what they had at the time. Ren is proven right.

I need this story to decimate our heroes, humble them, and then let them rebuild. Teach Ruby something and let her grow from it, making up for her mistakes as she goes. Because for two and a half seasons now we’ve watched this girl commit one horrible act after another—whether it’s attacking allies or unintentionally giving the world the most damaging message possible—and something needs to come out of all that.

Can’t say I’m too hopeful of seeing that though :/ 

The rest of the episode isn’t any better. Ironwood continues his stupidity streak by trusting Watts to do the hack himself. I really can’t believe this is what his character has been reduced to. Granted, it appears as if Watts really did do what he was asked, it’s just that none of them could have known Penny would be outside of Amity and at the height of an airplane when her systems went offline. That trust does, however, allow Watts to nab Ironwood’s crushed scroll before he’s taken back to his cell. Because, you know, at this point Ironwood is so stupid he just chucks personal tech at a villain and thinks nothing of it. 

Also... all this happens before the jail scene last episode when Watts was returned, but after Ruby’s group gets to the Schnee manor. The bingo board is getting another check.

Ironwood says that “It seems Polendina’s proxy trick worked.” So Pietro deliberately built Penny with this kill switch (for lack of a better word) embedded? In this villain!Ironwood world, is the story ever going to acknowledge that Pietro is far from innocent, having helped to create and support all the things people hate about how Ironwood (supposedly) interacts with Penny? 

Penny’s hack doesn’t take until Ruby’s message is complete, because of course it doesn’t. 

Yang’s group is all excited—“That was the broadcast!”—despite not having a signal last episode. If they can use their scrolls at the outpost, why didn’t they call for help?

Penny then says “I love you” to Pietro before she—maybe?—falls to her second death. I don’t know. This absolutely deserves a longer rant because either Penny was resurrected for a brief, narratively meaningless existence before dying again, or we’re expected to believe that she’s falling far and fast enough to become a meteor, but will turn out just fine. Perhaps the show will forget that Pietro said he couldn’t rebuild her again. I pretty much expect it at this point. 

(Either that, or Pietro will sacrifice himself for Penny. Coming at it from a father-daughter relationship, I like the idea. As a black man dying for his white daughter in a show notorious for how it has handled its race allegory... ehhhh.) 

Then, we end this episode with “a river of grimm.”

????????????????????

What?

Seriously, am I the only one who laughed during that moment? It sounds ridiculous. What does that even mean, “a river of grimm”? Did Salem expand her territory somehow? Is this the same grimm soup she makes them out of? What, can she just cover the whole world with grimm making goo now? Out of everything that could have been coming out of the ice, THAT’S what we end on? 

I think this episode may have broken me lol. There was so much that I knew I was meant to be invested in, so many moments trying their hardest to be emotionally compelling… and only the tinniest slivers of it worked. I want to care about Penny falling. I want to care (more) about an unexpected Glynda appearance. I want to be cheering for Ruby’s message getting out, but it’s all just so badly done. I ended this episode feeling like I had watched a RWBY parody rather than an episode. Like for funsies someone had pulled together the most ridiculous ideas they could think of, like:

The villains come and then immediately leave again, like in Fury Road except in this case that’s not the point of the story.

Super powerful fighter gets her ass kicked by laughing grandma.

Nonsensical sacrifice going on but give it just a hint of ~real~ emotion.

Huge reveal for the rest of the world but the message with be near incomprehensible.

Toss in random characters we haven’t seen in years, people love that.

End the episode with grimm soup flowing towards the kingdom.

It honestly feels like someone set out to write an absurd episode, but then gave it just enough artistry that the viewer finishing the vid goes, “Why am I actually invested in this omg lol.” Except when that’s your canon we’ve got a problem.

I don’t know. At this point RWBY is so broken I can’t even articulate everything that’s continually going wrong when we get an episode like this one. For anyone who may have missed it, we’ve got two more episodes before a six week hiatus and frankly I’m glad. Mostly because I obviously want our crew to have the time they need to keep their sanity intact during the hell that is 2020 and the likely hell that will be 2021, also because that will give them time to spruce up the second half of the volume… but there’s also a part of me that’s just glad for a break. There are still pieces in RWBY I enjoy (like the Hound, or dad!Pietro, always Ozpin) and I love writing these recaps, but it says a lot about the writing that I hear we won’t get RWBY for two solid months and I am, at best, indifferent. Can’t mess up what you don’t air, right? 😂

Man, this bingo card… it’s getting three marks today. “Two day timeline wreaks havoc on continuity,” “Needless episode cliffhanger” (grimm river??), and “The team gets Amity up and running.” Yet we somehow STILL don’t have a bingo. Amazing.

Alright, I’m done. If you enjoyed this episode, bless you. I’m really glad. Please enjoy it for the both of us. And pray for us all over the next two weeks 💜

[Ko-Fi]

[artyblogs]

Best Wingman Ever

Read on Ao3

Summary: For @caruliaweek. Prompt: Surprise. After the fight in the pyramid, Julia doesn’t feel so hot, so she checks into a hospital. Carmen finds out and has concerns, so she goes to see her.

---

The longer the press conference goes on, the more discomfort Julia feels. It started in the pyramid, after Countess Cleo pushed her into that godforsaken pit, and she managed to catch the edge with her elbows. Her legs swung under her and something in her torso tore. Or broke. It certainly seemed like something snapped judging by the searing pain that lanced through her chest.

She was able to ignore the pain for the rest of the time they were in the pyramid, half because of the adrenaline coursing through her system, half because…well, it seemed pittance in the face of certain death. But now, in front of all these reporters, with the adrenaline draining from her body, the ache grows and grows until she sweats under her collar from the exertion of standing upright.

Every breath Julia takes is fire.

Either the reporters don’t notice what is happening, or they attribute Julia’s flush to the strong Egyptian sun, because they don’t ask what is wrong. They ask her if she will be heading the effort to catalogue all of these artifacts (she won’t be; all this treasure is technically on Egyptian soil, so it is up to the Egyptian government to come up with a plan), or if she will be working with Egyptologists and other archaeologists to catalogue them (again, that’s technically the jurisdiction of the Egyptian government. If invited, she’d help, but she needs to be invited).

Eventually, they have enough information for their segments, and Julia and Chase end the press conference and slink off towards the parking lot. Julia waits until they are out of earshot of the reporters, and far away enough to be indiscernible by the cameras, before she runs a cautious hand over her ribs.

It doesn’t seem like anything’s broken, but a simple swipe of her palm induces agony. Julia sinks to her knees.

“Miss Argent? What’s wrong?” Chase kneels next to her, his hands hovering, but not descending. He’s probably afraid of making things worse.

It feels like her chest is imploding. Julia tries to catch her breath, but cannot get any words out. Chase takes out his cell phone and dials a number.

“‘Allo? Please send an ambulance, there is an injured woman who needs help.”

---

Julia had hoped that she would be able to tough it out until she got back to the UK because at least there, she would have all of her identification. Here in this private hospital in Cairo, she has nothing. Besides the press conference and Chase, no one knows that she is here. The fact that a whole person could be disappeared like that, that she could be misplaced, is disquieting.

The walls of the hospital room muffle the car horns and loud voices in the street. If Julia closes her eyes, she can imagine that she is slowly sinking into sand, like so many forgotten baubles in the desert.

CLICK.

The door to her hospital room opens to reveal Chase, who carries a grease-stained paper bag and a cardboard drink tray with two paper cups.

“Miss Argent?”

“Agent Devineaux!” Julia tosses the thin, hospital blanket aside and—very, very carefully—sits up and unfolds her legs over the side of the hospital bed. In the back of her left hand there is taped an IV line, and she lightly pushes the IV rack a little to make room for him.

Chase gently closes the door behind him, then he takes the back of a visitor’s chair and drags it to her bedside. He places the tray of drinks on the side table next to a prescription bag, and holds out the greasy paper bag for Julia to open up.

Julia delves into it and finds two shawarma wraps carefully bundled in foil. “Which one is mine?”

“They are the same.”

Julia takes one of the wraps and opens it up, the foil shredding between her hands, and bites into it. The shawarma is a mess of sliced lamb and garlic and spices. Still hot. Smothered in yogurt and lemon juice. She had a similar shawarma years ago when she first visited Egypt during a field archaeology class, and she has been searching for a comparable place ever since.

Nothing has even come close. Julia licks a stray drop of yogurt from her thumb and takes another bite.

“They didn’t feed you, did they?”

Are her table manners that bad? Julia hesitates, then slowly shakes her head to agree. Chase frowns and unwraps his own shawarma. They eat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the muted noon adhan ring out across the city. Eventually, the food is done, and they crumple the foil into balls and toss them into the paper bag, and Chase holds out one of the drinks to Julia.

“Where is the medicine?” He asks.

“On the table. Can you get it?”

Chase opens the prescription bag and blanches. “Miss Argent, this is…eh….”

“It’s just one of each.” Julia chews on the straw and holds out her hand. “Do you mind?”

Thus begins an absurd process: Chase takes out a pill bottle, twists it open, and shakes a pill into Julia’s hand. Julia claps it into her mouth and takes a swig of water while Chase recaps the bottle and sets it aside on the side table.

They do this five times.

At last, Chase sets the empty bag next to the bottles and stares at the display ruefully. “Miss Argent?”

“Hmm?”

“What did they do to you?” He’s unusually subdued.

Julia’s ribs twinge. “I am an ancient historian, and VILE needed to decode ancient languages.”

Chase’s frown deepens. “I have taken similar pills for what I assume are similar kinds of injuries, Miss Argent. Please.”

“They were not nice people,” Julia finally says. She doesn’t…she cannot describe what happened, because to do so would require her to travel there in her mind.

“Miss Argent,” Chase says, now truly alarmed. It’s funny, in a way. A year ago, he would have probably given anything to shut her up and today, he can’t get her to say anything.

“I can describe what they looked like,” Julia says. She can do that, at least. Chase reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out his cell phone, which he unlocks and gives to her.

The screen is cracked. Julia gingerly taps and swipes to navigate to a specific face-generating app, and uses sliding scales to change the different attributes.

“How are you getting back to Oxford?” Chase asks.

“There’s a British embassy down the street; I’ll go there first thing tomorrow,’ Julia says.

“Not today?”

“The doctor wants to keep me here overnight for observation.”

Another pause. Chase’s nose wrinkles as he scowls.

“It’ll keep, Agent Devineaux.” Julia takes a screenshot and refreshes the app to create another face.

Chase makes a noise as he sinks in his chair. “I shall go with you to the embassy tomorrow.”

Julia looks up. “Really?”

“You should not be alone. We do not know where VILE escaped to. They could still be here in Egypt.”

Julia is legitimately moved. She didn’t think it was possible for him to act this way. “Thank you, Agent.”

“Pas de problème.” Chase stares moodily out the window, so Julia returns to the app.

The minutes pass, but somehow it’s not as bad as before. Julia is in the middle of creating the last face when the screen blacks out for a call. She hands the phone back to Chase.

“Zari is calling you.”

“Eh?” Chase looks quizzically down at the phone, then takes the call. “‘Allo? Ah, Agent Zari. I will not be back for another forty-eight hours at least. What?” He pauses to listen. “Wait, now? But Miss Argent needs a security detail!” Chase tries to say more, but the voice on the other end rises in volume. Eventually, Chase’s shoulders slump in defeat. “Yes, yes, I’ll be on the next flight.” The call ends.

He turns to her and he might look as miserable as Julia feels. “Miss Argent, I, er.”

“Duty calls.” She says despite the sinking feeling in her gut. “You have three of the four faces at least. I’ll go to the embassy tomorrow, and you’ll visit me in Oxford when this is all over.”

“But VILE.”

“Aside from you, no one knows…no one knows I’m here. That anonymity will shield me.”

Chase’s jaw clenches, and he nods. “Until then, Miss Argent.”

“Goodbye, Agent Devineaux.”

He turns and leaves the hospital room.

---

Carmen does one more sweep of the hotel room before she zips her duffle for the final time. She doesn’t usually pack a lot on capers, but it pays to be vigilant.

“How is Jules getting back to the UK? Is Devineaux arranging that for her?”

Player absently hums as he types. “Oh yeah. She wouldn’t have any passport or anything, huh? Because she was kidnapped?”

“I want to make sure she isn’t stranded in Egypt.”

“I’ll take a look. And I could whip something up for her if Devineaux doesn’t have anything in place. How does sharing a plane with your favorite Oxford professor sound to you?”

“Ha ha.” Carmen throws a phone charger into the duffel and zips it closed. “Being close to Jules might not be such a good idea. VILE kidnapped her because of me.”

“VILE knows and now ACME knows too. You might as well go for broke, Red.”

“Go for broke doing what, exactly?” Carmen asks. “Don’t say, ‘Jules.’”

Player laughs. “I’m trying to be a good wingman here!”

“Jules has students, and bills, and maybe even a cat, or something. She has a life outside of all of this and I ruined that when I went to see her.”

“How dare you say that to me when I heard what she said when you guys talked in her office. What was it she called you? One of her ‘two key interests?’”

The sheer audacity. “Player.”

“Carmen.” But Player gasps and whispers a curse.

“What is it?”

“Uh.” More typing. “Julia isn’t going anywhere. She’s—uh. She’s checked into a hospital.”

All the hair whooshes out of Carmen’s lungs. When she last saw Julia, she was awake. She was responsive. She was standing unaided. She was…she was in VILE’s custody for at least twenty-four hours at that point, that’s what she was. Julia walking around in the pyramid this morning? Seemingly bright-eyed and bushy tailed? That doesn’t mean a thing if she’s in the hospital now.

BEEP. Carmen’s phone receives notifications as Player pushes an update to it. Address, map, and a plane ticket for the rescheduled flight back to Seattle. She pulls the duffle strap over her head and strides out of the hotel room.

---

In case of emergency, Player allegedly has a list of hospitals that he will trust with the safety of Team Red. Allegedly, because Carmen’s never seen Player’s desktop. When he tells her that Julia’s been admitted to one of those hospitals, it does little to ease the raging unease within her. Carmen gently opens the door to the hospital room and peers inside.

The blinds are drawn against the afternoon sun. A privacy screen is pulled halfway across the room, obscuring the single bed in the room. There is no television monitor, and instead a oscillating fan sweeps back and forth on low.

Carmen steps into the room and softly closes the door behind her. She lowers her duffel to the floor and creeps closer. While she didn’t see any local police, or any police-looking types staking out this hospital, and while she didn’t see any VILE operatives either, it helps to be cautious. When she peeks around the curtain, however, she only sees Julia.

Her glasses and suit jacket are gone, and a hospital blanket has been drawn up to her chest, but it is her. Carmen steps around the curtain to her, and she holds a hand a little ways from her mouth.

There’s a soft breath against her palm, and Carmen almost cries in relief.

“Red? Did you find her?” Player asks.

“She’s asleep,” Carmen whispers.

“Ah.” And Player falls silent.

She’s also alone. There are no guards, or orderlies, or nurses. Devineaux is nowhere to be found. If VILE found out that Julia was here, there would be nothing to stop them from taking her again. Carmen sinks down into the visitor’s chair.

Let them come. She will be enough to stop them.

Julia seems smaller in sleep. Her brow is smoothed free of complex thought, and her lips are slightly parted. A sunbeam falls across her face, highlighting the freckles dusting her cheeks. Julia’s dark hair is disheveled from the pillow, and her front fringe falls over her eyes. Carmen makes as it to smooth it away, but falters and instead, she pinches the hinges of Julia’s glasses and delicately lifts them from her face. She folds them, and starts looking for the rest of Julia’s things.

She finds pill bottles instead, lined up like soldiers at the back of the side table.

“Player?”

“Yeah?”

“When you found Jules’ file, it was bad, wasn’t it?” Carmen whispers.

“I didn’t look very long, because I didn’t want to snoop, but from what I did see? It wasn’t good.” He leans back from the mic and shouts something, then when he returns, he says, “I gotta go eat breakfast. Will you be okay for a minute?”

“Yeah. Go.” Carmen continues searching. She finds the rest of Julia’s things in a drawer in the side table. At the bottom are Julia’s shoes, over which is her suit jacket—carefully folded—and over that is her pendant. Carmen puts the glasses down beside the pendant and closes the drawer.

Julia wakes with a start. She gives a weak cry, and her feet kick out against the blanket. When she settles back down, she also puts a hand over her eyes.

“Jules?”

“Carmen?” Julia’s voice comes out strained and broken. Her hand cannot hide the furrow of her brow, nor can it hide the stuttering gasps she takes in a poor attempt to calm down.

“Surprise,” Carmen whispers. She holds her hand, the one with the IV line stuck into it, and Julia holds on tight. So tight that it might break her fingers and some dark part of Carmen thinks that she might deserve it. But it doesn’t last. Eventually, Julia’s breathing evens out, and her body relaxes against the bed, and her grip loosens, but she doesn’t let go. Julia drops her other hand to reveal red eyes.

She clears her throat. “How did you find me?”

It is so casual that it throws Carmen off. Are they really not going to discuss Julia’s state from not even a minute ago? But Julia looks at her expectantly, so she says, “Player found you. I was worried.”

“Thank you. I didn’t think….” Julia’s face screws up. “Thank you.”

“You shouldn’t. Jules, I am so sorry. VILE was never supposed to get a hold of you.”

“I’m not sorry,” Julia whispers. She winces as she eases up on the bed, and Carmen wants to help her, but doesn’t know how. Julia manages to sit upright anyway.

“You needed help. Was I supposed to say ’no?’” Julia asks. She even manages a half smile. “This was not your fault,” she says as she gestures to herself.

“They kidnapped you because of me.”

“Absurd. I mean, yes, they did. But that still wasn’t your fault. You might as well rage against an earthquake for bringing down a building, or at lightning for striking a tower. Criminal syndicates kidnap people; that’s just what they do. If not me, then it would have been some other poor sod.”

“Jules.”

“I mean it, Carmen. Don’t blame yourself for this.”

When Julia says it like that, Carmen might be able to believe it. “How bad is it? If you don’t mind me asking.”

The bridge of Julia’s nose wrinkles, so Carmen asks instead, “What happened?”

“I said ‘no.’ The taller woman—they called her ‘Countess Cleo’—she said that she would only ask for my services once. So I said ’no.’” Her brows furrow again and she bows her head, casting shadows on her face. “Those two men, Vlad and Boris, they were very persuasive. And I tried, I really, really tried. But I couldn’t.” Julia trails off and when she looks up again, her eyes are glassy. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

The idea that Julia should ever think of herself deficient in any way, that she could be convinced that that was the case, is so painful that Carmen’s heart could break. It is also equally vexing, because it is clearly untrue. The boldest lies that Carmen has ever heard.

“How could you apologize for being so brave?” Carmen asks.

“I’m supposed to be a former secret agent.”

“And? I don’t care about some arbitrary threshold of toughness. I’m just glad that you’re alive.”

Julia smiles and stares down at their clasped hands. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too. Not that I’m in a rush, but the longer you’re here, the more dangerous it is for you. When are you getting discharged?”

“Next morning at the earliest. The doctors want to keep me overnight for observation.”

“So it’s that bad.”

“Carmen….”

But Carmen gestures to the pill bottles. “Jules. Come on. How bad is it?”

Julia sighs. “Hairline fractures in my fibs, and some minor internal bleeding.”

She mumbles this last part, but Carmen catches it anyway. Cold horror washes through her body. “Internal bleeding?”

“Minor internal bleeding. Carmen, don’t feel bad, or we’ll be going in circles all day.”

On the contrary. Carmen’s horror ignites into hot, unbridled rage, and she leaps out of her chair and starts pacing up and down the tiny room.

“Carmen?”

“They are never touching you again. Never again.” Carmen pauses just long enough to say before she continues to pace. Julia face softens a bit.

The door creaks open, and Carmen whirls around and grabs an extra chair. It’s one of those mass-produced plastic and wire things, light enough to throw across the room if needed. Julia too, falls silent.

But an orderly pokes their head in. “Visiting hours are over,” they says in Arabic. “Miss Santa Rosa, you must leave now.”

“No, no, she can stay,” someone else says from behind him. It sounds like the nurse who was manning the reception desk. “She’s her fiance. It’s in the file.”

“Eh? Okay.” The orderly turns back to them. “Have a good night.”

The door closes again.

The chair slips from Carmen’s nerveless fingers. On the bed, Julia turns away, her face and ears a brilliant red.

“You understood that,” Carmen says. It isn’t a question.

Julia, unable to speak, nods her head.

“Player, did you do that?” Carmen asks. Her earrings crackle to life.

“Do what?”

“The fiance thing.”

He chuckles. Actually chuckles. “Best wingman ever.”

Oh no. Carmen is going to die. She is going to shrivel up from mortification. What must Julia think? At the very least, she must think that Carmen’s such a creep.

“Do you want me to change it back?”

“You’ve done enough.”

Player chuckles again, this time with a darker tone. “So that’s a ‘no.’”

“Goodnight, Player.” And with that, Carmen taps her earring to mute.

“You can leave if you need to. You must be terribly busy,” Julia says.

“Never too busy for you,” Carmen says, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she can think too much about it. Julia flushes all over again.

---

Julia gasps awake, the ache in her ribs stealing her breath. Her left hand is clasped tight in Carmen’s, a lifeline tethering her to this this plane of existence.

She fell asleep.

They were talking. About anything and everything. One of those meandering conversations that are pointless, yet profound. Carmen is endlessly fascinating, of course. Julia couldn’t help but hang on her every word. When it was her turn to share, she tried her best to be as interesting, but she couldn’t help but feel so incredibly mundane. Carmen’s rapt attention must have been a facade done out of politeness, because there is no way that she could be just as interested in Julia. Carmen was just being kind.

They were just talking, and then the meds took over and she fell asleep.

“I’m right here, Jules.” Carmen’s worried face swims into focus and the bed dips as she sits next to her. The room is dark, save for a single nightlight plugged into a nearby outlet.

“Was it a nightmare?” Carmen asks.

“The pain from my ribs must be tricking my mind. Every time I go to sleep, I go right back to that safe house,” Julia whispers.

“What about a distraction?” Carmen asks. “If you felt something else, would that help?”

They both look at their hands. They’re still holding onto each other, with Carmen’s thumb gently pressing against Julia’s pale knuckle.

“It does seem to help,” Julia says. Somehow, realigning herself with reality is easier with Carmen around. Carmen’s brow furrows in thought, then she nods, as if making a decision.

“Okay, scoot.”

It takes Julia a moment to understand what Carmen means to do, and when she finally does figure it out, she briefly considers saying ‘no’ before the thought is immediately smothered without mercy. Perhaps it’s because Julia almost died this morning, or perhaps it’s because of the heady cocktail of medications currently running through her system. At any rate, Julia doesn’t say ’no.’

She scoots.

It takes a little maneuvering—Julia’s IV line has enough slack, but they don’t want to pinch it shut—and they take care to not jab elbows and knees, and the bed is already so narrow, but they manage it in the end. They end up facing each other, with Julia’s head cradled between Carmen’s arms, and their legs tangled together. Julia’s fingers curl in the belt of Carmen’s romper.

Carmen runs hot. The heat of her arm thrums against Julia’s ear. Her gray eyes are also very close. The distance between them is so negligible that if Julia were to move just a couple inches forward….

Well.

“Go to sleep,” Carmen whispers, her breath ghosting against Julia’s face. “I’ll be here.”

Julia closes her eyes and goes to sleep.

---

“Red.”

Carmen’s earrings turn on, and Player’s voice cuts through the still night.

“Red, wake up.”

Julia is still asleep. Carmen’s arm is getting a little numb, but hell, Julia can have it. She rolls away a little, not enough to disturb Julia, but just enough so that she can talk to Player without speaking directly into her face.

“What time is it?” She whispers.

“About one AM your time.” Player also lowers his voice to match hers, even though he’s a little speaker in her ear. “The Seattle base got torched.”

“What?”

“VILE destroyed it. They burned everything. And then in Oxford, another team torched Julia’s apartment and blew up her car. They blew it up, Red!”

Beside her, Julia stirs. “Wusrong?” She slurs.

Carmen’s heart sinks. “I’m so sorry, Jules.”

“This again? We talked about this, Carmen.” Julia’s sleepy expression melts away when Carmen doesn’t answer.

Carmen gently removes her arm from under Julia’s head, then maneuvers so that she doesn’t crush her, but she’s able to brace herself over her and align her head over hers so that she can also hear.

“Player? Explain.”

He explains. Julia tenses beneath her, and her hands tighten in Carmen’s clothes the longer he goes on.

“VILE must have wanted to retaliate, but when they couldn’t find either of you, they did the next best thing,” Player says.

“Phone,” Carmen says. She rolls off the bed and goes to her duffel bag. She takes out her phone and swipes across the screen to answer Player’s call. He appears on the screen, and she tosses the phone onto the foot of the bed. Julia sits up and leans over the phone.

“Player?”

It must be early evening where Player is, but it’s always difficult to discern anything with how dark his room is. He must have blackout curtains or something.

“I’ve got Carmen’s plane ticket sorted out, and I was gonna get you on a plane to Oxford, Julia, but I’m not sure I should do that anymore.”

Carmen slips on her shoes and ties the laces. “Put us on the same plane.”

“What?” Player asks.

“You were right about VILE and ACME. Jules isn’t safe as a civilian anymore, so she’s coming with me.” Finished, Carmen stands up and regards Julia, who has her hands over her eyes again.

“Jules?”

“Jay?” Player asks, slightly muffled from the hospital blanket.

“I placed my students’ papers on the coffee table. They were just there in bundles, because I meant to grade them. And there were plant clippings on the windowsill…I was growing them in jam jars.” Julia’s hand moves to cover her mouth, and she stares into the distance. “Gone.”

Player looks down at his keyboard. Carmen’s heart sinks in her chest. She did this. Julia lost everything because of her. Because she asked for her help, and this is how she’s rewarded.

“I’ve only lived in Oxford for half a year, but that flat was mine, and I….” But Julia stops and turns to the side table. She pulls open the drawer and there, nestled in the folds of her suit jacket, is her pendant. It glitters in the low light, and she lifts it out, the chain draping between her fingers.

“I was wrong,” Julia whispers. She slips her glasses back on and she stares very hard at the pendant.

“Jules?”

“Everything I need is right here. Everything else is replaceable.”

Player’s jaw drops, and he and Carmen share a look. “Just like that?”

“Sometimes it really is that simple. Don’t mistake me; it will be awful to replace everything when the time comes, but the fact is that they can be replaced. And I have insurance. My class will be fine. My students will be fine.” Julia unclasps the chain and tries—and fails—to put it on. She looks up at Carmen. “Do you mind?”

Carmen takes the ends of the chain and carefully clips it around Julia’s neck. Her fingertips graze her nape as she pulls away, and Julia catches her wrist.

“I won��t be put in a safe house. If I’m coming, I’ll be useful,” Julia whispers.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Carmen says. Julia smiles up at her.

“Plane’ll be ready in an hour,” Player says. The call ends, and Carmen slips the phone into her pocket.

“Then we shouldn’t waste time.” Carmen unhooks Julia from the IV and helps her shrug on her jacket. Julia slips her shoes on, and after picking up the duffle and the meds, the both of them vanish into the night.

Show it some love on Ao3!

[docholligay]

State of the Baby Union

It’s been nearly two months since I had Jewlet, and there’s a number of things that I’ve observed, learned, or otherwise experienced since then. This exists, so I can share them with you: Is this going to be useful to anyone? What will this look like? I have no idea. 

The good: 

It’s remarkable how much of a help Jill is, and how much she’s stepped up to the plate in all this. It’s particularly striking to me when I’m on mom’s groups or talking to other women who are married to men, and realize the MAJORITY VAST VAST MAJORITY of men don’t take on hardly anything for the baby. They don’t get up at night with the baby, they don’t take on extra chores around the house, they believe it’s their god-given right to come home and have ‘leisure time” some of them even get JEALOUS of the attention the baby is getting. My wife works overnights. Every night she has off? What is technically her weekend? She gets up with the baby instead of me. Her ‘weekend’? Is my Monday and Tuesday. She takes the baby all day so I can work (Except today when she is volunteering at the zoo, doing a checkup on the wolverines) anyway I’m very lucky to have her, and I love watching her with the baby, she’s a wonderful mother. She’s so loving and sweet. Jill has always been far more maternal than I am, which is not to say I’m a bad mother, but simply that the sweet soft mommy thing is definitely her ahaha. I love her now more than I did before, even, and I know having a first child strains a lot of marriages but it’s made ours even stronger. 

Special shoutout to Teddy Nick, also, who has taken such an active role in Jewlet’s life. I expected help from her! This in itself was not a shock. But I have been so surprised by how much she has been willing and able to do, extra, stupid things that I don’t even need but are very well liked, such as sitting with Jewlet at night sometimes so I can take a bath. That kind of extra shit! I am spoiled immensely. She’s got Jewlet in the wrap right now for the simple reason that it’s easier for her to type with it on than it is for me (I am smol, and my setup doesn’t support a large amount of space between me and the desk). I never expected her to do THIS much, and I’m very very lucky. 

Jewlet is becoming a real person! She smiles at me, and laughs, and stretches so cute in the morning and it’s starting to feel more like interacting with someone rather than being acted upon. It’s made such a difference in my mood, just because she can realistically interact with me in a way she couldn’t before. Her little happy baby noises are so cute, and I can see her turning into Midge the person. It’s delightful every day to get to see how she’s coming along, the person she’s going to be and it’s exciting too! There’s so many things I want to show her and share with her, and as much as I love her now, every day lets me know we’re closer and closer to when I can show her and teach her things. 

JEWLET SLEEPS SO MUCH BETTER AT NIGHT THAN WE HAVE ANY RIGHT TO EXPECT. She can be a real pill during the day sometimes and that’s frustrating when I’m trying to get things done but she refuses to be put down, but at night? She’ll routinely, not every single night, but OFTEN, sleep from 9-3, which means I have my half hour to read at night and then also actually get some goddamn sleep. It’s miraculous. 

The bad: 

Holy shit is it difficult to get anything done. I started writing this post at 9:30 am, it’s now 12:30. I have cried so often over the raw frustration of trying to manage having an infant and pumping and doing my job and I am more stressed out than I have ever been in my life over the sheer volume of shit I CAN’T get done right now. I’m so used to being together and having my life in order and having time for things. It’s STARTING to get better, as we work out a routine, Jewlet gets SLIGHTLY more likely to let me put her down for five minutes, and Jetty and I start alternating our schedules so there’s always one of us to watch Jewlet. But it’s hard, it’s so hard. (On that note, if I owe you something, we’ll pick it up in the next few months, as things get worked out. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE) 

I don’t have time for things! I miss doing my little craft projects and art stuff, I want to start running and working out, and only recently have managed to carve time out to read. It’s really wearing, and I see how women can fall into making their baby their whole personality, because what else can you do? It’s so hard to keep any of the things you loved going, and I have a ton of help compared to other people. It feels so dehumanizing sometimes. 

Sometimes I just cried in the last six weeks because I couldn’t get her to stop crying, or I missed being able to simply clean the house, or I felt unappreciated for what I CAN do, or my feelings got hurt badly. Sometimes I feel everyone is better at juggling all this than I am, at being a mother and working and keeping a home. 

The ugly:

I had a REAL HARD post labor situation, and it took weeks to resolve at all. I still have some symptoms and difficulties and pain, and it’s annoying and it make things even harder for me emotionally, because I not only have the reality of struggling with my new time based reality, but also my physical reality, which I am utterly unwilling to accept as a long term thing and am going to keep working against. I desperately want the athletic, conditioned body I had back, which could do so much for so long with such balance and flexibility (and also fit all my motherfucking clothes). 

I think that’s generally the hardest part, is finding MYSELF in my new reality. I sound ungrateful, and I don’t mean to, but I think more than anyone in the family, I’ve had to drop a lot of balls lately, and it’s hard! I can’t wait till I’m back up to making all my cards, and writing, and cooking elaborate things, and all of those things that make me ME. I miss myself, in some ways, as dumb as that sounds.

[magioftheseas]

Boom Through Jabberwock!! Bang Bang!

Summary: An alternate/bonus scene spanning from Matsuda giving Ibuki a certain CD in Chapter 24 of Super Danganronpa 2: Matsuda Yasuke’s Battle of Despair and Wits.

Rating: PG

Warnings: None really.

Notes: It’s the yukata bonus scene but for SDR2 Protag Matsuda Yasuke. There’s a bunch more song references and extra banner. The yukata scene’s probably my favorite of the bonus events in sdr2, so it ended up being the longest. Hopefully that’s okay. It’s also much gayer. Because pride.

Read this fic among others HERE

Main story is HERE

Commission? Donate?

“If dealing with her is your way of dealing with guilt over Koizumi, then—I don’t think you could continue bothering.”

Mioda blinked again. Her mouth hung open, jaw slack before it began to tremble.

“Y-Yasuke-chan, that’s—way harsh! You’re making it sound like I don’t care about Hiyoko-chan at all!”

“It’s suffocating to have someone dote on you because they feel sorry for you,” he said. “It’s even worse when that person is floundering because then you feel bad for them.”

“Wah!”

“The fact that you approached me screams that you’re pulling your hair out over what to do about her.” Matsuda sighed, rubbing his nape. “That’s not remotely helpful. Gather your bearings first. Maybe...”

It’s not that I’m obligated to help, but it would be to my benefit that she and Saionji get along.

“When you kick the gachapon enough times, you can get prizes,” he finds himself saying, digging around in his coat to pull something out. “I happened to get this.”

This being the debut single of the band, The Black Cherries. Summer Festivitrees.

He tossed it to Mioda, but it just smacked against her chest as she gaped and he hurriedly had to catch it before it fell to the ground and broke before even having a chance to play.

“Um,” Mioda uttered as Matsuda handed it to her a second time. She didn’t take the CD. “W... Wow, Yasuke-chan.”

“No good, huh,” he guessed, waving it in front of her. Somehow, that did not make the CD more enticing. “Guess this kind of thing isn’t your jam.”

“I was just thinking that you’re fearless,” she said. “I mean—coulda guessed that from you and Nagito-chan being a thing... But seriously, that you’d have the brass to show me this...”

Matsuda’s frown deepened. His brow furrowed for good measure. However, when he pondered about what the fuck this girl’s problem could be, he could scrounge up a few ideas.

“Rival band?” he guessed, looking at the back of the CD. All it listed, of course, was the songs and artists and some copyright. “Or was there some stupid band drama?”

“Rivals!” Mioda confirmed with a chirp. “Did you not hear about all the hype of boys versus girls?! The battle of the boy bands and the girl bands?! The epic showdown of chicks and di—!”

“...isn’t battle of the sexes so last decade?” Matsuda asked, raising an eyebrow. “Hell, wasn’t it more thing two decades ago? Talk about outdated.”

“It super is,” Mioda agreed. “But that was just the press for ya. Out of time, out of tune, out of touch! My old band’s ticket sales and concert attendance numbers still got compared with the Cherries’ all the time.” She perked right up. “But out with the old, in with the new! It doesn’t matter to me because it’s old news about my old band!!”

“I see...”

“Music shouldn’t be about sales anyway!” she exclaimed. “Down with capitalism! Eat the rich!” A pause. She groaned, pained. “Oogh, Byakuya-chan would have been so yummy and chewy... I miss him so much...”

What the hell am I supposed to say to that?

“The meeting’s about to start,” he reminded her. “And...about Saionji...”

“This lightbulb has now been lit!” Mioda went right back to shouting, undeterred even as Matsuda grimaced. She just looked at him with bright, sparkling eyes. “Yasuke-chan, can I have you for the night?”

“...” His grimace darkened. “...”

“If you’re that busy with Nagito-chan, I gueeeeeeess he can come too,” she says, huffing before outright whining. “But you gotta give me an answer! Even if it’s not the story that I planned, I gotta hear your answer! I wanna know the answer!”

Matsuda squeezed his eyes shut, sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

I really don’t want to, but...

“I guess I might as well go,” he grumbled.

“You should!” Mioda agreed happily. “GOOD answer! There wouldn’t have been much point in this bonus scene if you said no, Yasuke-chan!”

Matsuda stared.

“Ooh, so sharp! So cool! Cutting like the highest note!” she gushed. “Alright! The meeting time is two hours before the evening announcement! At the supermarket! No carts needed!”

Matsuda turned on his heel to hurry on ahead.

“Alright, then, guess that’s that.”

When she shouted some more, he didn’t look back. Only quickened his step.

--

After all the plot-relevant stuff of which the reader shouldn’t be concerned with right now, Matsuda did end up remembering the plans he made.

“Oh, right. It’s probably getting about whatever time that rocker girl wanted to meet up.”

“Oh, Matsuda-kun!” Komaeda exclaimed. “If you had already made arrangements with our Mioda-san, shouldn’t you have respected that first and foremost?”

“I had more important things going on,” Matsuda muttered. “Stuff more...relevant.”

“Geez, you’re such an asshole,” Hinata griped because he was here too for reasons. “Just hurry on. You shouldn’t keep Mioda waiting.”

“Eh.” He really shouldn’t. That said—“She said Komaeda can come, so I guess you should come, too.”

“H-Huh?! Why?!”

“Just...a feeling I have. Come on, you two.” Matsuda gestured for them to follow. “We’re heading to the supermarket.”

“Uwah, how exciting! Mioda-san’s kindness knows no bounds!” Komaeda gushed to which Hinata could only grumble.

“I feel like I’m just going to get pulled into extra work...”

Good news.

--

“O-nya-su-mi! O-nya-su-mi!” Mioda waved them over frantically from behind one of the aisles. “Ready for something to happen?!”

She gasped, gripping one of the cereal boxes with glee when she saw that Matsuda hadn’t arrived either alone or with just the resident crazy on the islands.

“Ooh, you brought Hajime-chan, too! I guess you do know the saying! Three’s a crowd, four’s a party!”

“Hey, Mioda,” Hinata greeted half-heartedly as she put the cereal back. Hinata strode up to her only to pause. What laid scattered before him was undeniable and he could only sigh at his fate. “Okay... What’s all this?”

When Matsuda got close enough for a look, he could see the piles upon piles of cardboard boxes. Komaeda, too, blinked at the sheer volume.

“Kaboom! Through summer!” Mioda exclaimed with a thunderous clap. “You can’t have a summer without fireworks!”

“I’ve had many of those,” Matsuda informed her without missing a beat.

“Loud noises make me a bit nervous,” Komaeda admitted before exclaiming, “How exciting!”

“Oh, right,” Hinata remembered. “Komaeda, on your student profile, it lists your dislikes as...”

“D-Don’t worry about it, Hinata-kun! It’s for the sake of hope!” Komaeda did in fact seem more nervous than excited. “Hope can come in loud, colorful bursts!”

“Eh...?”

“Filthy fireworks disappear into the sky!” Mioda sing-songs. “From Summer Festivitrees! Haven’t you heard it?”

“I don’t really listen to music that doesn’t play in anime,” Matsuda replied.

“Bang! Bang! There go my dreams!” Mioda gasped, but she recovered quickly. “Anyway!” With a salesperson grin, she gave a wide sweeping gesture towards the boxes. She even wiggled her hand while she was at it. “Boys, get those boxes! Let’s go! Set up!”

“Hah,” Matsuda huffed. “You could have gotten literally anyone to do grunt work.”

“Between the four of us, it won’t be too bad,” Hinata points out. “I mean...”

“Yeah, it’s a party!” Mioda agreed. “A super spicy party! Well—it’s a real party since I’ve already invited a few others! Chiaki-chan, Akane-chan, Mikan-chan, Sonia-chan—and did you know?! Hiyoko-chan’s gonna take pictures!”

...that’s good.

“Oh, and Nekomaru-chan juuuuust for Yasuke-chan!” she added, giving him a wink. “Everyone else already brought these fireworks in, so we’ll leave the rest to you! It’s Ibuki yukata time!”

“I suppose everyone else will be wearing yukatas as well?” Komaeda asked, to which she gleefully nodded.

“Yep! Sonia-chan’s gonna wear what she calls a Japanese yukata! So will Nekomaru-chan! Just for Yasuke-chan!”

“Great,” Matsuda griped, unenthusiastic. “What about us?”

“You want to wear yukatas too?!” Mioda yelped. “Unexpected! Aren’t the protagonists supposed to be the normies?! Or—wait! You want to see Nagito-chan in a yukata too, don’t you?! Sly dog! I should’ve known with my Ibuki sense!”

“W-What’s that mean?!” Hinata stammered. “I-I mean... Komaeda...!”

Komaeda blinked twice. His head tilted.

“I guess you’ll change into a yukata, too,” Matsuda told him. “I’ll look for some earplugs. Hinata will handle the boxes.”

“Wait why did I suddenly get saddled with all the work?! If Nidai’s here, he should help, too!”

“Nekomaru-chan helped during the day, Hajime-chan!” Mioda tutted. “Now, it’s your turn! Yasuke-chan has already asserted his dominance as top antenna!”

“What does that even mean?!” Hinata cried.

“Good luck, Hinata-kun!” Komaeda exclaimed. “Work your hardest so that your hope can shine your brightest! Oh, but, Matsuda-kun, please don’t feel obligated to...”

Aaaand Matsuda was already making his way down the aisle. No longer listening. A man single-focused on his mission. Mioda saluted him before marching on her merry way. Komaeda, too, left to go obediently change. Hinata, left alone, could only sigh.

Resigned to his fate, he began to move the boxes with only a mild grumble.

(Thankfully, once he found some earplugs, Matsuda did go back to help. He wasn’t that heartless.)

--

Thus, the night ended with a climactic series of colorful explosions in the starlit sky. Nidai whooped, Mioda cheered, and Sonia chattered excitedly.

Another burst. Nidai whooped again. Tsumiki was stammering in delight. Owari was happy, too.

The only one who wasn’t was...

“Pffft, so fucking lame,” Saionji muttered, but she snapped away with her camera. “It’s just because Mahiru-nee would’ve taken these pics...”

“The Ultimates are more radiant than any blossoming firework!” Komaeda exclaimed, voice uncomfortably loud as he likely couldn’t hear himself with the earplugs. “How wonderful! Sublime! Vibrant!”

Matsuda gave him a thumbs-up before gritting his teeth and adjusting the other’s yukata lest it be too revealing for this rather chilly evening.

Nidai whooped again, much to Nanami’s apparent confusion.

“Nidai-kun...keeps doing that...”

“It’s because when fireworks go up, you...whoop,” Hinata explained. He was looking away quite pointedly from a giggling Komaeda, his ears almost as red as a firework that just dyed the sky. Another whoop from Nidai as Nanami let out a curious hum.

“Girl power!” Sonia exclaimed.

“G-Go...burst...” Tsumiki stammered.

“Oh god, you two are so laaaaame,” Saionji groaned, to Tsumiki’s despair.

“E-Eep! I’m so sorry!”

“Oh! That’s a better face!” Saionji snapped with more enthusiasm. “Bwahaha! Pathetic weeping suits you waaaay more!”

“...Hiyoko-chan’s having a great time!” Mioda shouted. “Wahoo! Ibuki’s decisive victory!”

“W-What the hell are you talking about?!” the dancer shrieked.

“Lit ‘em up, Hajime-chan!” Mioda yelled, whooping with Nidai. “Do it, just DO IT!!”

“Got it, got it,” Hinata sighed, doing as he was told.

“After that one, we’ll trade off!” Nidai laughed. “You gotta enjoy these fireworks TOO, ya know!!”

Hinata did smile back, even warmer under another burst of color above.

“So lovely,” Komaeda cooed, and Matsuda didn’t care to ask if he specifically meant the fireworks.

Regarding everyone’s bright faces, made brighter by the fireworks, nothing else...really mattered.

The scent of summer enveloping the night. Goldfish fireworks trickling down, falling in drops,

Matsuda thought, remembering a song.

With eyes dazzled by the light, your gentle face was reflected for an instant.

When everyone parted, it was with a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. One could even think it contentment if not for the erratic stumbling of a few stray thoughts.

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[doomarchives]

David Annandale’s The Harrowing Of Doom: An In-Depth Review

So, I was kindly offered an advance reviewer’s copy of The Harrowing of Doom by David Annandale for the Marvel Untold series, a new prose line revolving around Marvel’s villains. Although I’m not personally familiar, the author’s prior written work and academic scholarship indicated a strong background in fantasy, science fiction, as well as horror film and literature - all essential elements of Doom himself honestly, whether in his character, design, or formative influences. A promising start from the outset! 

To no one’s surprise, I was especially excited for this one. Doctor Doom is both my favorite Marvel character and area of nerdy comics expertise, and Annandale sounded like the perfect candidate to tackle him. 

The Harrowing of Doom centers around a conflict familiar to those who know the character. Taking place fifteen years after his ascension to the throne, Victor von Doom is still hellbent on rescuing the soul of his mother, Cynthia, trapped in hell by the demon Mephisto. His yearly attempts to save her have been fruitless thus far, but he believes he can really do it this time, enlisting the help of a new character, Maria von Helm, and some of his lesser known subjects (also new characters) to accomplish the task, by building a machine called The Harrower. The noble scheme is further complicated by the reappearance of Prince Rudolfo Fortunov, son of the monarch deposed and murdered by Doom years prior, who is equally determined to take back what he believes is his birthright by any means necessary. The novel is a relatively dense and detailed one, and as a true blue Doom enthusiast, I have a dense and detailed review to match.

The first thing that I personally take note of in any material involving Doom is the author’s perspective on the truth of Latveria’s “benevolent dictatorship.” It immediately speaks volumes about a writer’s perception of Doom’s accountability and sense of morality; it kind of ends up coloring his entire characterization. That being said, I was really pleased by the evenhandedness with which Annandale treats Doom’s Latveria and his influence upon his subjects. It slots in neatly with some of the greats, Lee & Kirby, Jonathan Hickman, Roger Stern, etc with the acknowledgement that Doom is indeed a despot with an iron fist and a will absolute, but one who cares for the wellbeing of his country. Through dialogue from his subjects like the skittish Father Grigori Zargo and diehard loyal Captain Kariana Verlak, the reader gets the sense that Doom’s rule may be the best leadership Latveria has ever known. (A brief aside: another great strength of The Harrowing of Doom that has to be mentioned is the fleshing out of these different original characters. Maria von Helm was a particularly welcome addition, as a close friend of Doom’s mother and a far more empathetic magic user compared to him.)

Verlak is openly married to Dr. Elsa Orloff, a trans woman and neurosurgeon of international renown. Both of them had experienced the Fortunov rule that predated Doom’s, with Orloff even having fled Fortunov’s Latveria when she first come out as transgender, in fear of his tyrannical rule and the dangerously transphobic legislature he enforced called “The Laws of the Person.” It is apparent that Doom exists in obvious juxtaposition to the prior ruler’s bigotry. Beyond the total erasure of all previous discrimination and state-enforced bigotry, he has Verlak appointed in a role of great prominence, gave Orloff the tools she needed to succeed in her field, and even shares an exchange with her where he remarks that he knows her from her publications in the Lancet Neurology and that he appreciates them for their “speculative” approach. In an excellent exchange between Father Zargo and the rebel Prince Fortunov, the priest, who is by far Doom’s number one fan, explains Doom’s mesmerizing hold on the populace and the benefits they reap from his rule, despite it being a despotic one:

“I’ll be explicit, all the same,” said Zargo. “Doom is a sun king, even more fully than Louis XIV ever was. Latveria is a world power. How? Because of Doom and only because of Doom. Latveria’s strength and its wealth come from his inventions. And the beams of his sun touch every citizen. Universal basic income, free healthcare, free schooling, free universities, free training to the highest level of your calling - all of these things flow from Doom.”

“Free?” Fortunov snarled.

“The price is obedience, yes,” said Zargo, “And yes, Doom is feared.” Zargo stopped himself from saying Vladimir was feared and hated. [...] “Even though Doom is feared, he also is Latveria in every sense that matters.”

What I really appreciated was the author’s ability to walk the tightrope of acknowledging how beneficial Doom is for the country and his protectiveness over his domain, whilst also acknowledging Doom’s intense paternalism that ultimately favors his own goals. Doom, as well-read comic fans would know, is heralded as one of Marvel’s master manipulators. It’s a great strength of this novel to see him exerting his willpower and the strength of his personality to manipulate and sometimes, fully overpower that of his subjects. Father Zargo is definitely the most profound victim of this, a man with ties to both the church and the occult. Through the novel, Doom insistently pushes him towards the latter, his priorities made clear in one sentence: “The work was what mattered. Zargo’s soul was not Doom’s concern.” An especially interesting scene occurs later in the novel. Without too much elaboration, Doom performs an experiment where he uses the old Latverian nobility as guinea pigs.  This was something I immensely liked, corroborating one of my own personal perceptions of Doom. It’s always made sense to me that Doom would continue to hold a certain amount of disdain for Latverian high society, even after he went from low class Romani boy to monarch himself. 

(“The Fantastic Origin of Doctor Doom,” Fantastic Four Annual #2.)

Afterwards his partner, Maria von Helm, muses aloud that she always wondered why Doom let vestiges of the old regime remain, to which Doom responds: “Now you know. The aristocracy has its uses, and the advantages of being disposable.” It’s maybe my favorite example in the book of the exceptions to Doom’s purported benevolence. He does want the country to flourish and for his subjects to prosper, but this intent can be superseded by his innately ambitious nature and his own personal biases. It’s clear at several points in the book that Annandale is obviously well-read on Doom himself, but it was especially in the capturing of this nuance that it really stuck out to me in a big way. (As well as the fun reference to Doom’s brief jaunt in the French Riviera in Supervillain Team-Up!)

Outside of this core aspect of his characterization, I really enjoyed how the novel not only built up Doom’s cult of personality, but emphasized the sheer magnetism of Doom himself, in person. Constantly, characters find themselves buffeted by strength of his will, craving his approval or cowering and scrambling to avoid his displeasure. It’s a great true-to-character depiction of interactions between Doom and Latverian citizens, dynamics that were only touched upon briefly in the periphery of most comics involving Doom. I think, ironically, this is also perhaps the source of one of the novel’s few weaknesses. By keeping the book very Latveria-focused, Annandale does an excellent job of adding world-building on every level, from expounding on Latverian national holidays to the layouts of Doomstadt to the country’s storied history with witches predating Doom and his mother. But the fact that Doom mostly interacts with those beneath him or those who work for him gives the reader a bit of a myopic, overtly flattering perspective of him as almost too certain, too powerful, too unfeeling. I suppose it serves the scope of the novel for Doom to be more an obelisk of a man than fully well-rounded, but I contest that one of the best things about his character is that his indomitable exterior hides a deep well of pain and uncertainty. 

(“In The Clutches of Doctor Doom,” Fantastic Four #17.)

(“Oath of Fealty,” Doctor Doom #7.)

The novel obviously perceives Doom as Byronic, there’s even excerpts from Manfred interspersed between chapters that I greatly enjoyed, but I did find the heart of the Byronic character a little lacking here. Where Manfred bares his soul alone in monologue or to others, Doom, for the most part, does not. There are definitely brief allusions to the trials he’s faced, but he seems rarely prone to doubt or vulnerability until the very end. (For example, the central task is the attempt to rescue Cynthia von Doom’s soul, but little time is spent dwelling on this very human connection between mother and son.) Or even self-admitted imperfection! Interestingly, I only ever caught one mention of his scars in the entire novel. 

The Harrowing of Doom seems to prescribe to the line of thought that the mask is the only true face of Doom’s that matters, but I think with that philosophy, it stays firmly within the character’s own comfort zone. And his psyche never feels truly challenged, because there’s no worthy challenger. Doom knows without a doubt that he is Fortunov’s superior, so there’s no real interpersonal friction there. It left me keenly interested in seeing how the author would write Doom in the presence of someone like Reed Richards, an opponent who has historically brought out Doom’s baser instincts and invoked his self-doubt, drawing out his flaws and humanity in the process. Hopefully Marvel approves a sequel!

Doubtlessly, it’s still a strong entry into Marvel’s Doom canon and an excellent read for anyone who enjoys the character and is familiar with his history. The novel gives a sprawling, detailed look at Latveria and fleshes out both country and countrymen with aplomb. I took real delight at the indirect peeks at Doom’s personality through other characters’s observations or simple exposition. Some notable examples include Doom’s occult librarian wondering if he had been appointed out of spite of his witch-hunter ancestry, Zargo noting the west wing of Werner Academy was dedicated to clinical research in a nod to Werner von Doom’s work as a healer, and my favorite: the paintings within Castle Doom being impressionistic depictions of Doom’s ancestors, “people long buried, long forgotten, and in their lifetimes ignored or worse.”  

The conflict also moves at an engaging, brisk pace and smartly takes advantage of the widely known fact that Doom is preoccupied every Midsummer Night and turns that into an opening to be exploited by Fortunov, who also is well characterized throughout the novel and even experiences his own personal growth.

(“Though Some Call It Magic!”, Astonishing Tales #8)

Essentially, the product is a great novel about Doctor Doom influenced by strong comic lore knowledge, Gothic and Romance literature, horror cinema (According to the author, Doom’s lab is modeled after the lab from The Bride of Frankenstein!), and fantasy. If that sounds like something up your alley, definitely check it out. It gets a wholehearted recommendation from me. 

About Marvel Entertainment

Marvel Entertainment, LLC, a wholly-owned subsidiary of The Walt Disney Company, is one of the world’s most prominent character-based entertainment companies, built on a proven library of more than 8,000 characters featured in a variety of media for over eighty years. Marvel utilizes its character franchises in entertainment, licensing, publishing, games, and digital media.

For more information visit marvel.com. © 2020 MARVEL

[yukiobeyme]

Would you be willing to do one of the NSFW alphabet headcannons for Beel? I just read your Levi one and it was good 💓

NSFW under the cut! Thank you for the request <3

Beelzebub NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Didn’t really know what aftercare was, just figured it was staying together and sleeping. You end up bringing up your needs or the idea of aftercare. Beelzebub then makes sure to keep extra snacks and drink for you; he even goes as far as finding the electrolyte drinks to make sure you stay hydrated.

He also adores giving you soft kisses on your back and shoulders, holding you close to him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his hands, Beelzebub is huge for a demon but compared to a human, even of average or above-average size, he is massive. He absolutely marvels at the sheer difference between the sizes.

He loves your mouth; he loves how your mouth makes him feel. But he also loves your hands and how small they are compared to his dick. He honestly overall loves everything about you, especially when it’s on him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

The first time you swallowed his cum, he was beyond shocked and turned on again. He let out a groan when he felt his dick twitch interested in the scene that was in front of him. If he ever comes on your chest you should expect him to finger feed you his cum until you are clean.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It’s not necessarily dirty but it’s probably one of the secrets he has kept from you. He likes how much bigger he is than you, he also knows the pure power he has over you as someone so much bigger as you and as a demon. But it’s something inside him snaps when you take charge and control. Something about seeing you smaller and weaker body on top of him, he is completely submissive and is practically putty in your hands.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Is surprisingly experienced? He is by no means easy but promises of breakfast in the morning definitely motivates him to give his best performance. But it’s only a handful of partners but treats every time as his first time. Not necessarily in a clumsy/awkward way but more in the sense of teasing and casually touching you, making sure you are doing okay before he completely devours you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary, he is a simple demon and he loves the closeness of it. Sure he is down for you to top him or even occasionally take you from behind, but something about watching you fall apart under him drives him wild.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Can be pretty goofy, sex is weird and awkward sometimes. And sometimes weird noises are made and he constantly reassuring you that it’s all good. But he also just loves your laugh and smile and bringing them behind closed doors and to an intimate moment just drives him wild. Very rarely is it super serious, those are reserved for times when you need to be reminded of how loved and precious you are.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The carpets do match the drapes, he is naturally not very hairy but he is well-groomed, something about his wrestling outfit. Out of season, it’s a toss-up, It is either well-groomed for a bit but he’ll let it grow for a while, getting annoyed at the length and then the cycle starts all over again.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Is more on the romantic aspect, there is always a date or something beforehand. He tries to woo and seduce you every time. Makes sure to worship you and praise your body. You would be covered with his kisses and love before being wrapped tightly in his arms.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Doesn’t jack off often, after meeting you, he would have more urges for sure. But Beel used to having food turning him on, so for you to turn him on he was equal parts confused and curious. After getting in a relationship he rather just message you he is hungry for you rather than food and forgoes jacking off alone.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Food Kink

It was your idea to bring food to the equation and Beel was more than eager to participate. Whip cream and strawberries are his favorites but there something about licking chocolate off you is amazing too. Likes to be one that gets to eat but will occasionally be allowed to be eaten off of.

Size Kink

It’s just something about how much bigger his is than you. How he can corner you and just tower over you. Your hand is so tiny in his and it drives him up the wall. While he isn’t into power play, he thinks his size kink influences his thoughts about how you could easily break when he towers over you. He also enjoys how much he can touch of you at once.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your room, he doesn’t want to risk having Belphie ruining the moment. Though your room isn’t much safer. Occasionally the shower/bath and there was even a wild incident in a random closet at RAD.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You. Purely seeing you and seeing you react to him and how he moves. Its intoxicating and makes him hungry in other ways. He is being honest when he wants to devour you. Teasing is always a good thing to get him going especially when you try to eat the most sexual foods innocently. Praising and moaning over the taste, he tells you he is the only one that can make you sound like that.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that can be considered dangerous and isn’t into BDSM. He just won’t do it, anything he is iffy on takes a lot of time and communication before he would consider it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving all the way, he takes eating you out to a whole other level. You know that recent video of the Hawaiian Papaya eating contest? That’s how he eats you out, he constantly going down only coming up when he needs air before diving start back in with enthusiasm.  

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual all the way. Very rarely is he fast and rough, only times when he thinks he was going to lost you or if you spent the whole day working him up. He rarely desperate enough to want it fast and rough, He thoroughly enjoys slowly take you apart. Starting with kissing all over you, ignoring your sensitive areas. Before he finds his way to your thighs, where he will nip and bit. Your hands will be threaded in his hair and voice hoarse with pleading with him to touch you before he finally gives in.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Doesn’t haven’t often, he just doesn’t like being quick with you. He wants to take you apart piece by piece. He doesn’t want you leaving him without feeling worn out but most important he doesn’t want left to feel unloved.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

With you he is willing to experiment, it makes it more fun. He is never too serious so any idea you have he won't shoot down and is willing to figuring it how to make it come true.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go 3-4 rounds; he considers rounds the amount of time you get off. He usually cums twice maybe a third time depending on the day. The first round is always focused on you feeling good without penetration, then focused on both of you with penetration, and the third is working you through another orgasm after you already felt spent. If you are up for another round, it a very slow and sinful round. Beel lasts way too long for your liking if that is even possible but he somehow manages his lust and desire perfectly.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Isn’t the biggest fan of using toys, unless if you express you would like to use toys, he wouldn’t even think about it. Doesn’t own any toys. Though he was a fan when you suggested edible lingerie

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Is very unfair and what makes it so unfair is he doesn’t mean to be. He just enjoys making you feel good and you spend all day worshipping your body. He loves all the noises you make, and it only encourages him, the amount of times you have been close to tears due to his teasing is unreal. You learned that tugging at his hair can usually get him to move on from the teasing but some days it seems like he wants to tease and work you up.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Isn’t very loud, he likes to only make noise when he is beside your ear. So you know exactly what noises you pull from him. Whenever he is receiving pleasure it isn’t a surprise to see him biting his lip or have a hand over his mouth to try and quiet himself.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

It took a long time before you were able to talk Beel into letting you wear a gag ball. He just hates not being able to hear you or communicate with you. But then again there was something seeing your mouth stretched around a red ball, like a roast pig, that sparked a fire instead of him. The sex was rough and desperate, as you had drool at the corner of your mouths and tears threaten to leak from your eyes.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Is HUNG, like damn. Like to the point, it is intimidating that first time you see it, but if you were to be split open… what a way to go. He knows he is huge too and makes sure to always be gentle and never pushes you or your body. The first time you saw it, or rather an outline was during a wrestling match and you were distracted and concern.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Is average for a demon, maybe a tad below average. But he would never turn down sex with you, especially because of the soft and intimate moments with you in the afterglow.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He isn’t going to sleep until he eats to restore his stamina and most times it’s a food coma that will knock him out after sex. But he always brings you water and some food too, encouraging you to at least eat something before he will pull you onto his chest.

[alienheartattack]

Hii! I am also a rivamika shipper and omG I love all of your fanfictions! They are so well written and I smile whenever i read one of them. From ur fics, Im guessing rivamika is ur OTP? But- I have been so inspired by ur fics that I want to write my own Rivamika fanfictions, but my writing is nowhere near as good as urs. Do you have any tips on how I can improve?

Thank you so much for your message! It makes me so happy to know that other people enjoy my fics. There's really nothing better when you're reading a story and the feels hit and you've just got this big grin on your face, so that's the feeling I try to go for when I write.

I would say strictly based on the sheer volume of fic I've written, Rivamika is definitely my OTP. I've had other OTPs in the past but I'd never published much fanfiction for them because I tended to join fandoms well past their peak, but there's a definite theme in all of my shipping adventures: a talented but difficult man and the equally talented woman who sees through his bullshit. (I was really into House/Cuddy from House MD back before the show made them canon and then sunk the ship into the Mariana fucking Trench in like 8 episodes. Everyone, please count your blessings that Rivamika isn't canon.)

As for improving your writing... I'm going to try not to write a novel about this because I have Many Feelings About Writing. First off I would caution you not to compare yourself to other writers, but rather look at them as sources of inspiration and emulation. (Mainly I just feel weird when younger fic writers compare themselves to me, since I have an extensive background in writing and editing, I've read a ton, I studied writing in college, and during my last fandom hiatus I got into live comedy and wrote multiple sketch and variety shows as well as a whole-ass play. One of the reasons why I'm as good as I am is because I've been doing this for so long.)

The very unsexy but true answer is that good writing is born from discipline and developing your own practice. Every creative writing teacher I've had has said something along the lines of, "I cannot teach you how to write. I can give you tools and the opportunity to workshop your writing, but you have to figure out the writing process that works best for you." Some people are more productive in the morning or at night; you might write longhand, on your phone, or on a computer; you might start writing with only inspiration to guide you or you might outline extensively before you start. You have to figure out which of these methods work best for you and figure out how to schedule time to write. (Personally, I write mostly at night, I outline extensively, and I take notes on my phone whenever inspiration strikes me because I know I'm going to lose the idea unless I write it down immediately. It's taken years of trial and error to get to this point. My process is still pretty haphazard but it's what works for me.)

To write well, you have to write a whole lot of shit first. It's just a fact; my first drafts are absolute trash and I hate them a lot of the time, but I try not to get discouraged because it's just a skeleton of the final product. You're probably not going to like what you write at first, but all that means is that your skill level doesn't match your taste level yet. If you let that piece of writing sit for a while and come back to it after you've done more reading and more writing days or weeks later, you'll be able to better identify what you don't like and be able to fix it. Ideally you want to do some kind of writing every day or close to it, whether that's writing down an idea in your notes app, scribbling in a notebook on your lunch break, dedicating yourself to a practice of morning pages, or something similar. Even spacing out and thinking about your story can be productive, but only if you write down what you come up with.

Aside from discipline, being a well-rounded writer boils down to developing several core skills:

Reading: You want to read everything you can get your hands on — and I mean everything. The goal is to train yourself to identify writing that you like and to be able to explain why you like it, then employ those devices and concepts in your own writing. Even if you're only planning on writing fiction, there's still amazing writing to be found in nonfiction. (Food writing and travel writing in particular tend to be very evocative in their descriptions.) I also take inspiration from poetry for its impactful use of language. The more you read, the more ideas and stories and references you'll be aware of, and you'll be able to pull inspiration from a wider breadth of resources. If you're still in school, learning critical reading in your literature classes applies here: being able to identify themes, character traits, tropes, rhetorical and literary devices, etc. will help you develop your own preferences and taste.

Researching: I use a dictionary and thesaurus whenever I write. I have a whole folder on my computer of writing resources I've compiled over the years. I google things all the time, even really dumb stuff or basic facts just so I'm certain that I got it right. I think the old adage of "write what you know" doesn't mean that you can only write based on your life experience; rather, you can teach yourself about all kinds of subjects and write about them with a degree of certainty without having directly experienced them yourself. For example, when I write fanfiction with a Rivamika baby, I figure out what I need the kid to do (walk, say cute things, etc.) and then research infant development to see how old the child needs to be in order for these things to be realistic. I once got some feedback on Inexorable that Hana was written like a real child, which made me feel amazing because at the time I was literally never around babies. However, I was able to draw on my limited past experiences with other people's kids and my own research to portray a young toddler somewhat accurately.

Editing: It is a massively helpful skill to be able to read your own writing and approach it with a distant, critical eye. I worked on my high school and college newspapers and learned how to edit other people's writing that way. (Beta reading is a good way to practice this skill.) Being edited at the paper also taught me to stop being possessive over my own writing, even when I thought it was brilliant. Writing is about conveying ideas to another person, usually a total stranger, which means clarity is ultimately more important than adding artistic flourishes. I've also recently started using the Grammarly plugin for basic grammar stuff that I tend to forget. This also ties in with reading; the more you read, the more you'll be able to identify and replicate more effective writing, and the easier time you'll have identifying deficiencies in your own writing.

I've written enough already (I wasn't kidding about the novel) so I'll close with one last tip that is universally helpful: read your writing out loud. Most of the time, you can figure out what you want to say simply by verbalizing it or you'll realize, "Oh, no one talks like this, I would have said X in this situation" and that'll help you write more clearly and realistically.

I love talking about writing (obviously), so feel free to inbox me if you have more questions!

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 1-16: 命运的拐点 Destiny’s Turning Point Translation [3rd Beta Test]

*Light and Night Master-list is under WIP *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Game is releasing in 10 days!!! *Beta Test’s main story tag will be #Dreams of Light and Night

I failed. And right when I was just a step away from becoming the champion too.

I felt an odd sense of heaviness overwhelm me during the long time it took for the curtain call to end, something that I’d never felt before. It was sort of a mixture of both an inexplicable sense of dissatisfaction and suspicion.

I don't know how or when I got myself off the stage.

Sariel’s words echoed in my mind. He said that I’d completely disregarded the essence of what it means to be a Fashion Designer… But what exactly does he mean by that?

All the contestants walking in front of me were relieved beyond measure that it was all over now, but the more I thought about it, the more confused I got. I walked towards a quieter place alone.

The courtyard garden at the foot of the corridor appeared serene and mysterious at night. The bright moonlight filtered down, shining upon the flowers and leaves alike. The night breeze carried along with it the faint fragrance of flowers.

❖☆———————————★❖

I lowered my head and glanced at the potted plant by my feet. It was a flower yet to fully bloom, with many smaller flower buds hidden beneath its wide leaves, which were gently rubbing against my ankle.

It was akin to a small pet that was showing affection to its owner in a bid to comfort them.

Despite knowing that the notion of comfort was merely an illusion caused by the night breeze, I still couldn’t help but feel my heart warm.

MC: Thanks…

It was then that I heard the squeak of the glass doors opening to admit another.

Illuminated under the moonlight, the lanky figure gradually walked closer

❖☆———————————★❖

A crisp white suit and a pair of icy eyes.

MC: Sariel…

He looked a little appalled to see me here, but that flicker of emotion was soon concealed.

Sariel didn’t speak. He directed his gaze past me, staring at the plants within the garden. His eyes reflected the faint moonlight, appearing as beautiful as coloured glass.

He looked surprisingly serene here, compared to the frostiness he’d displayed back up on stage earlier.

However, the cold comment he’d given me immediately flashed back in my mind just as I was musing about this.

❖☆———————————★❖

Sariel: You absolutely do not understand the meaning of your given theme at all.

❖☆———————————★❖

My head had been in a mess back then, so I totally missed the chance to enquire further about it.

Perhaps his being here right now was fate’s way of giving me another chance to do so.

MC: M-Mr. Sariel…!

Sariel silently turned his gaze over. His eyes were as calm as ever, the only difference was his slightly furrowed eyebrows.

MC: I'm (Y/n), one of the participating Fashion Designers of the contest today.

Sariel: I know.

MC: I really like your works, and I've always seen you as my role model.

Sariel: So?

MC: So…

★Night Choice: Read his body language and remain silent. (Didn’t choose)

☆Light Choice: Explain your design choice

MC: So, I want to know why you think I don't understand the theme. I hope I can explain just what the ideas that went into my design are.

I originally thought that he’d outright refuse me, but he never interrupted me, and neither did he leave. He’d only watched me calmly as I rattled off. Does this mean that he acquiescences with me?

I mustered up my courage and started rattling off my explanation.

MC: I chose to use Black Chiffon with the highest twist available, 80 twists high, not just because it can attain and support the design I wanted to go for.

MC: It was also because I felt that it was a good representation of the tenacity of Fashion Designers.

MC: And as for the rose ornaments… I chose it because it represents why I initially wanted to become a Fashion Designer.

MC: I don’t know others will go about interpreting what the term “Fashion Designer” means, but to me, I feel that…

MC: There is no one answer to this, and there’s also no way one can take it too far in any whichever direction.

After hearing me out, the sides of Sariel’s lips curled into a blatant sneer.

Sariel: So, you think that the problem here lies with the way you think, and hence, your idea. That’s why you’re trying so hard to explain and make it clear to me, am I right?

MC: ...Is it not?

Sariel: Your sheer lack of understanding is astounding.

Sariel: 80 twist Black Chiffon might be able to support and display the design you wish for it to. But for something that’s being made into a top hat, this high twist amount is the most unsuitable for the task.

Sariel: You’ve chucked the elegance aside, completely disregarded the volume it is supposed to have, and most importantly, it is utterly uncomfortable to wear.

Sariel: There are better ways you could represent “Roses” if you so wished. You shouldn’t have forcibly added this artefact that clashes with the whole outlook of the piece to your work.

Sariel: Only mediocre people will wish to attain recognition through their explanations.

Sariel: Everyone out there will only be able to grasp what it is you're trying to convey through your work.

Sariel: In your work… That's if we can even call that a piece of work...

Sariel: I don't know why you have placed so much sentiment into it. So much, that it has totally lost its purpose as a hat.

He was surprisingly serious when it came to talking about design itself, much unlike the arrogance and iciness he'd displayed back on stage.

Sariel: Designers ought to know just what the product is being created for.

Sariel: You do not yet hold the qualities of what it takes to be a good Designer.

Sariel: Rather than daydreaming all day, thinking about how you can soar higher, perhaps you'd be better off first learning how to walk.

His words were like a bullet, piercing me right through the heart. I stared at him, stunned and unable to form a single word.

He was absolutely right. I'd always gone straight for the concept. Whilst my heart wanted to explore new concepts within the given theme, it'd also ignored the most important thing.

I bowed to him in utter seriousness.

MC: I understand. I will do my best to correct that. Thank you.

Sariel: … What you intend to do from now on is none of my concern.

It was as if he'd reverted back into the judge, atop a pedestal and far out of reach. A completely different person from the one who'd been seriously discussing my design with me just moments earlier.

Watching his retreating figure, I felt nothing short of conflicted.

It was almost as if I’d gotten the answer to the question that had been nagging at the back of my mind for some time now in this unpleasant exchange of ours.

❖☆————— ⊹ Dreams of Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 1-14) | Next Part: (Chapter 1-19 Light) / (Chapter 1-19 Night)

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!