#was the title originally. but i think a title is not needed for this one. it felt odd with a title

[ao3commentoftheday]

i've seen you (or i'm pretty sure it was you) give people advice that boils down to like. just write the scenes you WANT to write, basically, and skip the rest. which i think i want to try to do more because i do NOT have the bandwidth for long or complex stories right now. but i'm wondering if there are good ways to contextualize snapshots like that? like would you suggest adding more context to the metadata/tags/author's notes? or even in the text itself, like do you have suggestions for how to establish or distill a larger AU or story into like. an introductory paragraph?

(also your blog is great, and also you do good work, and i'm sorry if i'm mixing up who said this specific thing. i might have mentioned that i don't have any bandwidth for things lmfao)

I'm forever telling people to skip the boring parts and just write what's fun. There are probably folks out there who wish I'd shut up about it 🤣

I tend to do most of my context-setting in my tags and summary, but author's notes can be useful too if you want to go that route.

To do that, you need to have a clear idea of what it is that you're actually going to write and then you also have to know what your readers need to know in order dive right in with you. But I want to put the emphasis on need to know there. you don't have to get into all of the nitty gritty details first.

If you're writing something smutty in the context of the characters being in a relationship - even though they've never met in canon - then you can tag your fic with established relationship and put in whatever tags related to smut you want, then write a simple summary of the set up. "A and B shower together - and not just to save water."

The reader doesn't need to know how they met or why they got together or when this is happening. They just want to see their ship have shower sex.

If your characters are usually in the Star Trek universe but you want to write them into a period romance, tag your work with regency AU or Bridgerton AU and then give a summary snapshot of what they'll be doing in that setting. "Janeway and Chakotay chaperone Nelix's ball, but rather than simply watching the younger people court, they find themselves the recipients of a matchmaking attempt."

Your readers already know the characters, and they can understand the setting from your tags and summary, so you're ready to get started.

The more you do it, the better you'll get at distilling your idea down into a 1-3 sentence summary.

Characters are in place doing thing and issue arises.

Villain takes action and now our heroes need to fix that

A and B are in current relationship status but inciting incident changes that

In a world where X is true, characters need to do a thing. Unfortunately, Y happens and now they are left doing something else instead. Will they be able to achieve their goal?

One of the shortest fics I've ever posted to AO3 is 37 words. It's an Original Work, so people are coming into it with no information. And yet, between my title, my tags, my summary, and the series it's a part of it is 100% intelligible to anyone in any fandom. [link] I had a joke that I wanted to tell, and I think I landed it pretty well.

Readers will fill in the blanks that you've left empty. All you have to do is give them enough information to fill in whatever you don't provide.

[twost3ps]

This boy has been in the drafts for like a month

I'm feeling like I want an Adam sandwich with two slices of Morningstar brothers so you guys are going to hear me out on my LucifurxAdamxMicheal au (and I mean it in a they both share Adam in the end :3 ) In general I'm calling the ship ✨️GuitarStars✨️ boooyaaa I feel like there might be a better name for it but idk

(Also I’ve noticed there is complaint for guitarhero in the adamsapple tag. I'm tagging this post as adamsapple this once of it but post related to this with both brothers will be counted as #guitarstars.

I also completely agree with the complaints. There is a problem with the tagging so this is a very quick reminder to please tag properly!!! Ik it's not meant to be harmful bcz most guitarhero shippers are also adamsapple as well. But i will admit there has been a lot of unecessary tagging (i am guilty of this im so sorry qwq) so please be mindful!!!! Ik this post might go agaisnt that but its just this post i swear sorrryyyy)

ANYWAYS The actual au:

For now I'm calling the au- Angels on My Shoulder (I can't think of a good title rn grrr)

quick sketchs so you get the idea

General prompt:

Adam respawns as a human with all his memories. He lives a normal happy life until he turns 21 when two angels (Micheal and Lucifer) appear on his shoulders with a mission: try convince him into making certain decisions so that he ensures a spot in heaven or hell.

That doesn’t work out very well because adam hates how theyre forcing their ideals onto him one way or another. He doesnt really want to think about heaven or hell anytime soon. Heaven or hell seems like complete torture to him. The fact that he didn't like either of them before he respawned doesn't help.

A revelation happens and both brothers realize it's not gonna work on their terms so they're gonna have to earn his favor first before trying anything. One of the ways is talking it out beacuse adam had expressed several times over that, while at first it was funny, their bickering needs to die because it's getting annoying.

They talk it out. They make up. It takes a whole but they become close again. They try to earn adams favor in the meantime and between time. Everything is at peace. As time goes on though, the wooing is no longer for just adams favor, its now romantic. Both develop feelings for Adam. And since now they made up both made up they are very willing to share him.

The og goal is completely lost. Gone with the dirt and dust. And now what was once a competition to get Adam into heaven or hell has spiraled into heaven and hell trying to get into Adam. If you catch my drift.

Do they get in there?

God bless they do

(Ps they start off as small little mascots but then later grow into their normal form and an added human form. Adam Prefers the small mascots though)

My in-depth of the au that is very subject to change I just wanted to rant is under the cut o3o

So when Adam had died, he respawned onto earth. Born into a normal family and all that jazz. He lives life as normal and has comes to terms with it. He actually loves his life. He doesn’t have to walk on eggshells anymore and lives as normal. He’s not insanely good or insanely bad, he’s just a guy.

A guy who is very happy with himself. After graduating he becomes a national park ranger.

Heaven and hell both know of adams soul, but contant cant be initiated till he turns 21 (It was recognized because I wanna say 21 would be the age Adam technically was in his creation during Eden, and thats when he can process divinity without his body tweaking as if he were any other mortal. Souls grow along with age and all that drama, adams soul in eden was strong enough to stand the sheer power of a seraphims presence) both sides made it their immediate duty to guide him to their path.

Sera wanted Adam in heaven to clear her mind- to have heaven back to perfection with the original perfection creation (also to have her son back, but she's not ready to unpack that for herself.)

Lucifur wanted adam as he could punish him directly for hurting Charlie and her friends. A little tiny part of him also really wants Adam all for himself grrryrvgrvsgrs

So both heaven and hell spawn a representative guide for Adam to follow once his soul is ready to guide. Lucifur nominated himself and Sera nominated Micheal who agreed.

For some reason (probably amix of earth and god or sumn), Adam's presence nulls the powers of both angels and devils. So the first time they appear, Micheal and lucifur appear as small tiny mascots on Adam’s shoulder.

(Adam has flicked both of them away several times and they can't really do anything about it other than fly back and try again)

Both sides had the same idea and Adam connects the dots very fast on why they are here without them telling him. And he's pissed.

His normal life is now ruined.

Adam actually really hates both Lucifur and Micheal. Lucifur for obvious reasons and Micheal because he's just so nitpickey. Micheal had trained Adam in the past and that guy was brutal. Adam understood part of it was with Lucifurs falling and their brother thing and whatever but god daymn bro needed to chill. If Sera was on him like a hawk Micheal had been on him like a spy camera from space monitored by the secret service. In a way, both devalued adams emotions to some capacity so Adam hated both of them equally. Nothing Adam could do about it though because he was human.

In the beginning, both micheal and lucifur kept it really formal between them. Its strained but neither brother imposes on what the other one advises. That doesn’t stay for too long. The formalities between Lucifur and Micheal die pretty quickly. Under 2 months tops. While both are very old and very much adults, they are, first and foremost, SIBLINGS.

Both begin talking over eachother, butting in, shoving eachother. It's like pre eden all over again between the two on who is better. Most of the time they argue about the most random topics forgetting their og purpose.

After one year of enduring both of their bs, Adam feels like he has a dog and a cat rather than two otherworldly gaurdians monitoring his every move.

He doesn't complain though. After a while he's learned to tune them out. He also finds it incredibly entertaining watching the literal devil fight with the a high angel while being incredibly small. And with no powers it resorts to petty slapping. He's gotten pretty used to it....

Except when it comes to them making him choose what actions he takes.

They're always on him about everything. It sucks so much ass. Everything Adam tries to do something good, Lucifur tells him that it's stupid, that he should be more selfish and blocks Adam. He keeps on telling him that deep down adam really isnt all that, and why should he try and do good when everyone knows that hes not really that. Micheal does the same thing in reverse. When Adam does something considered bad, Micheal raves on how he'll go to hell. That Adam was made in perfection and must reach that perfection. That heaven is waiting for him and is available only if he keeps on doing good.

It makes Adam so mad when they remember what they're trying to do.

Adam doesn’t listen to either angel because after living part of his life as just a normal person, he’s come to realize he doesn’t want to think about living life wondering if he’s going to heaven or hell. Adam does not want to face eternal punishment or be in hell. He still really hates sinners, and while the blood hungry killer part of him died with his second life, he still thinks that the majority of those sinners are disgusting to say the least. But he doesn’t want to walk eggshells to be virtuous enough to enter heaven. Heaven, for all its greatness got tiring after 1000s of years. He's grown tired- already hated hell and grew to hate heaven. He doesn’t want to think about either, he doesn’t want those ideas to deter him from choosing what he wants to do. He wants to make both good and bad decisions without an angel watching over him. He wants to be able to make both good and bad decisions. He makes this very clear after a breakdown.

It becomes less of a competition over making Adam choose and more of getting into Adam’s favor after that because their first tactic is clearly not working.

So both agree that they will have to earn adams favor before making him do anything.

But in order to get adams favor both have to learn to get along because it had become one of Adam's biggest gripes. Funny at first, but the bickering and arguments got tiring after the course of a few years.

So they do attempt to make up. Genuinely. It's hard and its tough. Theres a lot there to unpack. But both jnkw that if they don't do this Adam is not going to listen to either of them because getting along has go go both ways.

And they do make up.

By the time Adam is in his early 30s, the close proximity and a lot of Adam yelling to sort it out, allowed for some slow but needed time to talk it out. They would do it infront of Adam who was the mediator, but they mostly would talk when Adam falls asleep as both watch over his dreams (creepos imo). They begin talking about their decision and their lives. Both brothers do acknowledge that they miss each other and that they have committed several wrongs with each other. And soon the fighting turns to light banter and life is good. They still try to earn adams favor but it's a lot more calmer. Everything's more calm.

Atleast that's what adam thought at first.

While bonding and stuff, they both come to the mutual agreement that they could share Adam. So they both freak it and try to woo Adam together.

And then now it's a matter of Adam freaking out because while before, both his little shoulder angels used to argue, they their bickering distracted them enough that Adam could chill and leave.

Now they're both bothering him and helping eachother try to get in adams pants. They're tag teaming him now.

It doesn't take long for their combined forces to make Adam cave.

The og goal is kinda gone. They still put their input but adams become more open it because they're less demanding and he feels like their goals are more aligned to his wants than theirs. Lucifur and Micheal also come to kinda realize that where Adam ends is where Adam ends. They're going to have to just suck it up when the time comes but they'll enjoy sharing while it lasts.

It gets pretty domestic and slice of life here. So the years following is a mix of sibling bonding and having ✨️the rizz✨️ on Adam.

Lucifur talks about hell and Charlie. Micheal talks about heaven and lucifur and his siblings. (Both Micheal and Lucifur arent permannt shoulder angels, they can actually pop away if they wanted to) Adam talks about his life and stuff.

When Adam eventually dies, his soul is neither here or there (because getting absolutely boned by twin morningstars does not make you virtuous or sinful it just makes you a bad bitch) his soul spawns in limbo. He’s deprived from salvation but doesn’t endure the horrors of hell. It’s basically a decent sided garden with a basic house in the middle where the garden ends is white space. On opposite ends of the garden are two doors, one goes to hell and the other to heaven. Turns out, the doors are connected to Micheal and Lucifer’s homes, but only appeared in them once Adam died. He’s allowed outside limbo into heaven or hell of his choosing for a limited amount of time and visites Micheal and Lucifer when he can. On the flip side Micheal and Lucifer can freely walk in and out of the place. I don’t want Adam to be lonely once he enters limbo so Cain and Abel are there because they died before heaven was ready and when he’ll just started.

So that’s pretty much it :3 kinda

incomplete but doesn't have everything I wanna say

Also

I will reiterate what I said at the beginning. I love you my guitarhero ppl but they are right in the tagging. It comes from a place of love so just be mindful!! Also, this is from me, sometimes the adamsapple vs guitarhero thing gets repetitive. It's a very common post ive seen. And I mean in general not just leaking into the adamsapple tag. That might just be me, but I do see it pretty often. Love it but that with the tagging does get a bit old. Really, the problem is a mix of incorrect tagging and the same trope. There's a lot more to the ship, especially with Micheal being free reign rn, so there is a lot of opportunity to show their relationship besides comparing it to Adamsapple.

I feel like somone who ships guitarhero also had to say something so yeyeye

Again, no offense to anyone guitarhero isbmy love but just please be mindful guys o3o

If you read all that thank you lol

[sourpatchsquids]

I NEED TO TALK ABOUT IN STARS AND TIME FOR A SECOND

Okay i just finished watching my girlfriend play ISAT and I felt the urge to dig into the music a little bit and lost a whole day to it. So i think i have to post about it. General spoilers below, read at your own risk.

Ok so Im gonna talk about the title theme and one other song here, which is a secret for later. (This part took like 2 hours to cobble together ill post the other one tomorrow)

In the first statement of the melody, we have a very bog standard i -> III -> IV -> Cadential 6/4 moti-- wait a second.

With where these lines intersect, the A in the middle voice actually dips below the bass voice for the statement of this chord, which means that the chord lands in a second inversion. You wouldn't normally put a i6/4 just after a cadential 6/4 unless you were actively trying to make the resolution feel weaker for some reason. As if you intentionally wanted the listener to not feel a strong sense of returning to the tonic.

When the strings come in we are treated to lush root position 7th and 9th chords to really feel magical and detached from ourselves. Just as well, that cadential 6/4 turns into an entire tonicization for A major! I adore the way the strings milked the motion down from D to C# to C, its a perfect suspension of the old tonic into the tonicized dominant :>. The themes of not feeling at home continue from here. We get the briefest glimpse of a happy A major chord in measure 8 before we lose any sight of an A that feels at home in the harmony. Measure 10's A in the melody is completely unsupported by the G major chord underneath, and the only A's to play in measure 11 are in the bass and the frenetic synth line bouncing between left and right panning, as the upper string descend to a G and the melody completely skips over the A in otherwise stepwise line. I wonder why home is so hard to latch onto in this piece? You're only ever able to grab onto it for a little bit at a time, when you even know what you're listening for.

As we approach the end of the phrase, we finally get a reasonable resolution to the tonic! We made it! However, it is nowhere near as harmonically pleasing as it should sound. Even with the faster pulse flipping back and forth between the ears and the actual stepwise enclosure of the tonic, when a tonic chord finally rings it quickly darts back, and what we get is empty. The 3rd of the tonic is played for the length of a eighth note and is quickly kicked out of our aural memory by the staccato E in the same instrument. And then all previous accompaniment leaves, save for the strings, as the piano enters to play one last statement of the B theme. The title theme makes very clear, we are allowed to approach home, but we are not allowed to linger. As quickly as a taste of it comes about, we realize how much it tastes like nothing.

Finally, we are rewarded with another cluster of A's and E's to leave us feeling empty and full of ennui. Truly we are meant to interpret this piece as Siffrin feeling lost and alone, no home to return to, nowhere to truly rest. That about wraps up my analysi-- hey wait a fucking second.

HEY WHAT THE FUCK.

If you listen at the very end, the strings jump back up to a D chord at the very end of the piece. D, the key we originally thought we were in. This single chord completely recontextualizes the entire piece and im not kidding in the slightest. If everything that happened while we thought A was the home key was actually just elaborating the dominant, then what does it actually mean? And more importantly, why is it so quiet? What is the purpose of the final D chord, the actual end chord of the piece, when it is so removed from what feels like the real ending of the piece. It's as though it's being intentionally kept at bay, as if we as listeners are actively pushing it away. It's like song itself doesn't want to really end.

Oh.

Studio Thumpy Puppy, if any of you ever read this, please know that I am in absolute awe of your ability to bake in the themes of the story into 42 seconds of music.

Not only does the title theme convey Siffrin's emotional pain from not being able to remember his home country, it manages to tell the listener the crux of the plot before a single line of exposition hits the screen. Siffrin doesn't want his party to leave him alone, he doesn't want their journey to end. He is so desperate to prevent his party from returning home without him that he breaks the structure of the piece, hides the final chord, from his own god damn opening theme. To stop the journey from ending.

If you've gotten this far, please support the artists behind this amazing game. If you haven't bought and played ISAT yet, go do it, and while you're here, also buy the soundtrack. Give these people money!! They're really good at what they do!

Next up: We're With You! Look forward to it, it's also amazing.

[raiiny-bay]

the kids released a new album

[alilbatflies]

Had this on my mind for a while before I managed to put it into words somehow. something something the devotion of a guardian angel to their human...

... ... ...

I have a guardian angel.

It gives me advice. It guides my way.

It’s not malicious, like a demon would be. I hear its voice at all times. It speaks softly to me.

I’ll keep you safe, is what its words mean.

There is a bug on my wall. I do not want it there. I reach for something to squish it with, some death easy for it to bear.

Don’t kill the bug, my angel whispers.

“But it scares me.”

It scoops the bug up on a piece of paper and moves it outside, away from me.

There is an Inconvenience at my doorstep.

How do I make it go away? It doesn't want to leave. Like a bug crawling up the wall.

I shoo at it, tell it to leave.

Much to my surprise, it listens to me.

It walks away. I watch it leave. My angel watches with me.

I watch other people. Many of them walk the world without a guardian. I wonder sometimes…

“Why did their angel leave?”

They have sinned.

It is human, I think. The path is narrow and oftentimes bumpy. The ride of life can get out of hand quite easily.

I wonder what it must be like, for an angel to leave. I wonder if those without an angel know their shadow is their only shield.

“Will you leave me, should I misstep?”

You will not.

“You can’t know that.”

I will not let you.

I cannot imagine seeing that through. And yet, my guardian angel sounds so sure of me.

I’ll keep you safe.

Sometimes, I wonder: Would my angel choose me?

There’s a Problem at my doorstep.

How do I make it go away? It doesn’t want to leave. If words aren’t enough, do I stain my hands with its blood, until it’s scared and running for shelter? Do I fight it away?

Violence should never be your answer.

I talk to the Problem. It does not listen to me at first. I talk some more and more until it finally turns. It leaves slowly, checking for an opportunity to be bothersome again.

I feel better now that the Problem is gone.

I am exhausted. It took a lot.

I fear the day my strength will be futile against the Bad Thing at my door. I doubt my guardian angel’s words will help then, at all.

I have a guardian angel.

It gives me advice, it guides my way, making sure I don’t wander astray.

It always follows behind me. I only catch an occasional glimpse of its glow in the corner of my eyes. The glow of a halo, I think. It is too faint to make its shape out properly.

You do not need to see me, my angel says. Listening is enough.

Perhaps those who have lost their angels have heard, but not listened.

I’ll keep you safe, it reassures me.

There is a Danger at my doorstep.

How do I make it go away? It doesn’t want to leave.

I assess the Danger, it terrifies me. My hands are shaking. It’s too heavy for me. Do I attempt to fight it? It will rip me to shreds. It will overwhelm me.

How do I defend myself from something so out of my league?

The Danger gets worse the longer I let it be. I have no resolve to face it.

Violence should never be your answer.

I wouldn’t win, anyway.

I turn away and hide my face as the Danger moves towards me.

I keep my eyes closed. I cover my ears. I feel myself crying unwanted tears.

Somehow, I feel no pain.

From behind me, the sounds of a fight. Bones snap and it occurs to me, my guardian angel whispered just as the Danger leaped my way.

I’ll keep you safe, it reminded me.

The sounds fade away.

I blink my tears away. When I look up, the Danger has gone.

From behind me I hear a thunk. It sounds like a heavy string snapped. In the corners of my blurred vision, I see a shadow.

Two horns where my angel’s halo used to be.

I have a guardian demon.

It gives me advice. It guides my way.

It is not malicious, like many think a demon to be. I hear its voice at all times. It speaks softly to me.

I’ll keep you safe.

No matter the cost, no matter what it takes.

It’s not always what I want it to be.

I didn’t choose it. My guardian chose me.

There is a bug on my wall. I do not look as my demon scoops it up and takes it outside.

Things are as they’re meant to be.

My guardian stays by me.

My hands are clean.

A path of bloody steps marks my way. It trails after the sinner that protects me.

I have a guardian demon.

My angel fell for me.

[luluwquidprocrow]

like a row of captured ghosts

kit snicket

teen

2,568 words

Kit Snicket visits a house in the city.

for @asouefanworkevent's woevember day 2, the baudelaire mansion! featuring my enduring headcanon that the baudelaire mansion was previously the snicket mansion, and b+b get it when they marry lemony. i am 100% willing to admit it is Unlikely, however let us not forget kit saying “our families have always been close”, so, yknow

title from welcome home by radical face

Kit could get in if she wanted. She’d been given lockpicks expressly for the purpose, because the locks on the house were special, but she didn’t need them. She knew the statue in the back of the garden had a hairline crack in one of the hands – she didn’t remember which one, but it wasn’t as if there were many options – that, when pressure was applied, opened a brick in the patio. Under the brick was a lever. If one were to pull the lever, the little window in the hidden attic opened, roof shingles shifting out of the way, and one could wiggle themselves in, with enough effort. Her grandfather had put a number of clever little secrets in the house, and Kit had gone looking for them when she was very, very young, so she knew a decent amount of them. Few others did. 

(The lockpicks confirmed that. If they thought that was the only way someone could get into the house, Kit was not going to correct them. And there were worse things, weren’t there, than simple theft, things for which no real defense existed.) 

Night air bit at her ankles, her fingers, her neck. She wasn’t dressed nearly warm enough for November, having grabbed her blue spring jacket in her hurry, but the cold was of little concern to her. The mansion stood across the street, set back from the road, with that winding brick path up to the front doors, the maple trees scattering their leaves around the yard. It was in the heart of the city but in a place one would never know unless explicitly looked for – a turn off an erroneously marked dead end, then another, to an old avenue along a river with more trees than houses. Her grandparents had picked it on purpose. Presumably safe, but close enough. 

They had added to the windows. Neat, decorative ironwork, curled into hearts and vines. 

Kit put her hands in her pockets and crossed the street, her footsteps the only noise. 

The fence out front had been replaced as well. Kit’s grandmother had done most of the architecture, and Bernadette Snicket had favored a simplistic, practical style in her work, but the new fence matched the intricacy of the window grates. That just-too-big space in the bars a person could slide themselves through if they desired, that Kit had, years ago, when she’d – that was gone. Kit walked the length of the fence twice, considering. She couldn’t linger long. There was a light on in a downstairs window, glowing soft behind the drawn curtains. Kit could not put it past them to eventually see her. She walked down the sidewalk one more time, picking up her pace. There was no way around the fence. Climbing over it didn’t seem like an option. The points at the top of each iron bar looked sharp, glinting in a stray hit of light from the streetlamp over near Kit’s car. 

(Kit wondered how much was a choice – how much was a needed decision – how much was meant to erase. She couldn’t judge Beatrice and Bertrand for that. Not without damning herself, which Kit was not, overall, in the habit of doing.) 

Of course there was a sewer grate nearby, and of course Kit pushed it up soundlessly and slipped down inside. 

Her grandfather had three boxes – one Kit had already taken some years ago and given to Bertrand, for reasons better left unsaid. One had been given to Lemony. The third was still in the house and held a very specific map of the city. Headquarters wanted it, among other things. And if Kit came across one of those other things, she was at her liberty to take them. 

(She and Beatrice had argued, Kit remembered. The sewer was dark and icy, and Kit shivered hard, grinding her teeth together. They’d argued about those other things, and Kit had not been able to give Beatrice, or herself, a satisfactory answer. It was one of the last conversations they had, if not the last. Most likely the last, if Kit was honest. Beatrice had made it clear where she and Bertrand stood, and where Kit stood, and that it was no longer in the same place. And it never would be. 

Kit told herself over and over that she would never do it. There would always be another option, as long as Beatrice and Bertrand were alive to emphatically refuse. Right now, there was this option – Kit was going into the house. She was taking the box back. Nothing else. And the box wasn’t even going to headquarters. There were other plans for that box.) 

The box would be in the downstairs office, under a floorboard. Probably Bertrand’s office. The windows were one of the ones her grandmother had put the stained glass in, and shards of blue fell over the green floor when the sun sat just right in the sky. It was a good room for thinking, and Bertrand likely did a great deal of it there. Kit swallowed and hurried further through the sewers, past the names that didn’t matter, and started scanning the curved ceiling. If one knew where to look, there was a sloped hatch up there that led up into the passage between the house and 667 Dark Avenue. Kit would open the hatch, get inside, go into the house, and then leave the same way. And there it was. Tucked in a shadow, just waiting for her. Kit reached up for the wheel, ready to heave the door open. It was going to stick with so little use. 

The wheel turned easy under her hands. 

Kit jerked back, her whole body seizing up. Someone had been here. Someone who was not her. Someone who wasn’t just checking. Kit spun the wheel frantically and the hatch fell open. 

(She’d brought Olaf here. Her grandparents hadn’t cared who knew the location of their house, but their generation had been different, and Kit’s parents had stressed, when they could, the importance of keeping this secret. Her associates thought it was a safehouse, one they could never quite find the location of, and wrote off as another ruse. She’d driven Olaf, pointing out landmarks the whole way, because she’d thought – 

Kit was not foolish enough to think she’d get married. But Olaf was important to her, and she was foolish enough to think he’d stay important, and that when Lemony inevitably married Beatrice and they took the house, Olaf would be there too.

They crept in through the fence. Olaf chased her around the maple trees. Kit took him into the house through the font doors and showed him what her grandparents built. And he understood what the Snicket mansion meant, in the way he had to understand what the Count’s mansion meant. Some time later, Kit realized he had not. 

Olaf’s memory was shit, except where it mattered. Except in the things she wanted him to forget. He’d remember where this house was and it was only a matter of time before he – before anyone – got their hands on the Baudelaires.)

Kit hoisted herself up into the passageway. She tugged the hatch closed behind her, then felt around in the black for the dip in the center. Her fingers kept slipping, shaking, pushing into metal that wasn’t right, nicking her nails, her heart thudding faster and faster in her chest and rising to a crash in her ears – where was it? There. She found the button and jammed her thumb into it. The metal hissed as it sealed from the inside. It wasn’t enough, Kit knew. Nothing would ever be enough now. But it would have to do. 

She ran along the passageway, keeping one hand on the wall. It came to an abrupt end, and Kit had her hand ready to pull open the trap door into the office when her mouth went dry. She swallowed, and then did it again. Once more. She let the trap door fall open and climbed into the Baudelaire mansion. 

The office was dark, as expected. Bertrand kept his desk by the windows, because of course he would. Not because Kit’s grandfather had, but because Bertrand would obviously like the view. The bookcases still lined the walls, but the books must surely be different. Kit wondered what he kept there, but there was no time to get into it. She could see the strip of light hovering under the door. It was poetry, probably. He probably kept poetry. Fairy tales he read to his children. The chair at his desk was different than the one her grandfather had there, perfect for sitting in and telling stories. She turned and faced the wall.

The floorboard was in the far left corner, at the front of the room. Kit moved slowly, quietly, barely breathing. Bertrand had covered the whole floor with a thick, heavy carpet, so at least that was in her favor. She bent down, tugging the corner of the carpet up, and lifted the single loose floorboard. 

(She always wound up doing this, she thought, in a voice that sounded stunningly like Lemony’s, wry as he ever was. Sneaking into someplace to steal something important. At least now she had experience.) 

There it was. Just as it had always been, another secret waiting for its time. The small, jeweled box with the complicated lock with the code her grandfather had taught all three of them. Kit tucked it inside her jacket and replaced the floorboard. 

It hit her like a shot, her breath catching in her throat. The sewer hatch locked only from the inside. She couldn’t go back that way. She whirled around, clutching the lump in her jacket to her chest. The best way to leave – the closest way out – that was through the library, two rooms down, through the passageway in the wall and up to the hidden attic. But that meant leaving the room. Standing in the hallway. Walking to the library, unseen. 

(She did not have experience. That voice sounded like Jacques, if Jacques had ever been so straightforward in his disappointment. She had to get out of this house before she kept thinking.)

Kit waited. Listened. She couldn’t hear anything from here in the office. She went through the map of the ground floor in her head, the foyer at the front, into the parlor, the living room to the left, the kitchen to the back, the dining room to the right – the hallway behind the kitchen, with the office, the billiard room, the library. The left wall in the library, where the hidden door was. Conceivably, it was easy. Wasn’t it? 

She turned the door handle and left the office. 

The hallway was half-lit from the living room at the end of the hall. Now she could hear the phonograph, playing a jazz record she didn’t recognize. Beatrice and Bertrand had to be in there, and it was right across from the library. Unless they were in the library. Unless they were – Kit gave herself a shake. She wouldn’t know anything until she moved. She just had to move. She just had to move. Kit just had to move. 

She couldn’t see the green floors. Beatrice and Bertrand had rugs everywhere, in elegant red and ivory. Kit tiptoed over it, hesitating. Paintings hung in groups down the hallway, flowers and little portraits and framed children’s drawings, scribbles of the garden hung with the same care as the art. They must be Violet’s. The jazz record kept going. Kit’s grandmother had liked oil paintings of flowers. She’d had a few in the hallway herself in her time. 

(Katherine, Bernadette Snicket had said. 

No, Kit insisted. How old was she then? Four? Just Kit. And her grandmother had looked pleased, like Kit had passed a test. Everything was a test and always had been, tests she’d completed perfectly, and why did it hurt? How far had Kit gone down the hall? The box sat against her ribs like another heart, heavy. Everything ached, especially her jaw, clenched shut like her life depended on it. And it did. This life around her she wasn’t a part of anymore, this family, this safety, Kit’s life existing outside of this place, everything depended on Kit, on her walking out of here alone, back to her apartment. The whole series of events spooled out in front of her as a nightmare unraveling. Was she crying? Why was she crying?)

Kit took another step, then another. The library was one foot away on the right, a mile away, mere inches, an eternity. The passthrough to the living room on her left gaped open.

Bertrand hummed a bar of the jazz record. And then – 

“What’ve you got there?”

Kit froze.

“I knew I left it somewhere in here – ha! That book I was looking for, for Violet and Klaus.”

“You really want to do the cob, don’t you?” The smile was clear in his voice, and Kit pictured Bertrand leaning forward in his chair, his hand on his chin, gazing at Beatrice and bursting with delight. 

“I absolutely do! I get to do a fake death scene and everything. How many kids books are going to give me that kind of opportunity, Bertrand?” 

They were alone. Their voices were far enough into the room that they shouldn’t see her at the doorway. They joked like she remembered, exactly like she remembered. Did they joke like that with their children? Would they have joked like that with Lemony, here, like they used to? With her? Would Olaf have – would her grandparents – wasn’t Kit supposed to be here too, not because it was hers, that wasn’t what mattered, what mattered was – 

Kit held her breath and didn’t let it out until she’d slipped into the library, until she’d rushed to the wall, until she’d nearly slammed her hand into the door hidden in the dark wallpaper, until she was safe in the narrow passageway. She wanted to run, to keep running. But they’d hear her in the wall. She took it step by step with her chest burning, traveling up two floors to the hidden attic. There was the little window in the roof, waiting for Kit to wiggle her way out. She did. The climb over the roof and down the trellis was harder, with her whole body trembling, but she made it. 

She stumbled through the garden, racing over the brick path back to the road, to the fence – she shoved her heels into the ironwork, scrambling over it, the tip of a bar slicing into her calf and her palms. She slipped on the way down the other side and her hip met the sidewalk, pain skittering through her leg and up her side. Get up. Get up, Kit. And Kit did, back to her car across the street, into the driver’s side. 

Kit took long and deep breaths. In and out, until her head was back on straight, with the plan set right in her thoughts, as it was supposed to be. Everything was as it should be. She set the box down gently on the passenger seat. She did not look at the Baudelaire mansion. She would patch herself up later, when she had time. She took another breath and put the key in the ignition. 

She had to go back home.

[afniel]

I have no self control. Like, at all. I told myself to give me at least a week off and I would not hear shit about it.

To be fair the entire contents are currently "Words go here" but still. That's three. Solid start.

Can you blame me though, the Vegas-Indy flight is so boring and I can get so much done during it.

[shidoukanae]

Did a study of a panel i like for a manga with absolutely my favorite female character i've seen yet and thought i'd post it here too in the hopes of eventually finding fans of this series when they inevitably, like me, look for more content of this story :'D

I could gush about this funny, lovestarved, absolutely downright sympathetic and villainous lady who absolutely deserves to be family with the protag for so many hours if you let me she is literally so perfect and everything I have ever wanted from female characters before.

I've gone from going "ooooo she's such a cool antagonist who is such a funny little mystery i LOVE her" to "yeah she's kind of on the insane spectrum but tbf who wouldn't be fucked up in her situation TwT" to "i WILL cry over her and she is completely in the right for doing what she's doing and i can't believe i ever believed she wasn't the heroine she's supposed to be :'D"

[kideternity]

Most important thing in the world to me is that IMO in order to be ant man you gotta be fucked up in the head*

[pyrriax]

HI TUMBLR late footnote posting before i go to bed (i took a nap today........ ate up most of my time)

not a lot to talk about with footnotes today since i was Busy and my brain wasnt working pfndkmlfd i blame seven hours of modded oneblock

[cthulhubert]

Catching the Record of Lodoss War OVAs on some channel's "animidnight" block was a formative experience for young me, and its design choices were scarred into my mind as the fundamental fantasy aesthetic. Which, uh, didn't exactly make me an odd one out anywhere because it hews closely to the ISO fantasy mold (and indeed helped make the mold).

"Record of Lodoss War" (I'm using quotes to indicate the literal phrase) is one of those odd-ball translation choices that ended up being iconic, just ever so slightly nonsensical, it stuck in the minds of kids like me that watched it young. A transliteration of the Japanese is Lodoss-tou Senki. -tou just means island; "senki" could credibly be translated as (and this may shock you) 'war record'. It's a specific term in Japanese that refers to the record an officer or attached scribe kept of the battles a military force took part in ("battle chronicle" is also a good translationand by metonymy is used for "military history"). As you might imagine, it's still popular in manga and novel names.

It started out as, not quite a novel, but a "RePlay", a record of the events of a table top RPG campaign, published in a magazine (Comptiq focused on computer games, but apparently content was content, and Lodoss got hugely popular). The mid-eighties predecessor to Critical Role, basically. It did really well, which makes sense, given that the dungeon master and the players were all published writers (the DM would publish what's called the first domestic Japanese high fantasy novels, Rune Soldier, in the same setting). It started out in D&D, but would also be played in Tunnels and Trolls and RuneQuest. In 1989, they ended up publishing their own set of rules, called Record of Lodoss War Companion, and later, Swordworld RPG (2.5edition came out in 2018!).

A series that was inspired and distilled a lot of the concepts that were and would remain popular in high fantasy settings in both Japan and America and then probably inspired another generation of iterations when the anime came back to America.

Some day maybe I'll watch the anime again, it finally got an English Blu-Ray remaster in 2017. I've read the manga and some of the novelizations in the mean time and, to be honest, they were pretty middle of the road, nostalgia notwithstanding.

Thank you for reading my ramble that was intended to be a short introduction to a short video game review.

A 2D exploration platformer with RPG elements (levels, stats, different bows and weapons to equip).

Briefly: a beautiful game. No flaws, but nothing that stands out either.

This game is beautiful. If you like the pixel aesthetic at all, I think you'll also love it. Critical hit in my visual sensibilities. It looks like Symphony of the Night looks in my nostalgia painted memories. The only note: it doesn't exactly take any risks, design wise, but if it did, that wouldn't be very true to the source material would it?

The music works.

Combat is pretty fun, if a bit easy. There are seven elements, you get wind and fire options for your basic attacks, and spells and special bows for the rest. Swapping elements changes your resistances too. The different types of weapons (long sword, knife, two-handed, spear, and throwing) offer some variety, as do the attractive designs. That said, for a melee based game like this, I prefer slightly more technical and challenging combat. Hollow Knight's a good example of my sweet spot, and Blasphemous is also well in my strike zone.

Movement is basically okay. You have to feel like a badass when you leave an after image trailing behind you. The wind element comes with the ability to hover (move slowly in mid air at up to your maximum jump height above ground or water), and they do a couple fun things with that. Other than that, it's all pretty straight-forward, which is a little disappointing.

They do some fun occasional fun puzzles with the archery.

Individual room design was fun sometimes, but the overall map design was lackluster. Yet another victim of the trend where leadership says, "Adding metroidvania tag increases sales, so do it," and design can only respond, "If we take a linear game, fold the map up in a spiral, and occasionally make you back track, that makes a fun exploration experience right?" It's been done worse but it's still not great.

This sort of game tends not to have a lot of story, but what there was was pretty good. One of those cases where the writers have a "twist" in mind, but did not intend for the player to be confused about it at all, just the character. The dramatic irony still makes the pay off satisfying.

It took me about 12 hours to 100%. It's on PC for 20$, which might be worth it. The Switch and PS4 versions are full price games, which is faintly baffling for a game so short, no matter how pretty and nostalgic.

And that's why I've shared so many words with my dash over what's ultimately a decent game; because of the anchor its series dropped in my heart in childhood.

Thank you for reading.

[erythristicbones]

i don't feel like copying what i wrote, so take some screenshots of me having brainworms for the JDK villains again. primarily spurred by me going "hey wouldn't Nisha and Artemis and Apollo make cool rockstars instead"

[regallibellbright]

WIP Sunday! In the hopes that posting something about it forces me to get back to this one sooner rather than later.

—

“I suppose not,” Joshua says, back to his normal smirk. “And if I said ‘oh, that’s the only reason’ and left, what would you do then? You already knew about my ‘evil plan’ when you called me here.”

“I wanted to know what you wanted,” Shiki says. “That doesn’t mean I’d take any offer you made. Some things aren’t worth selling your soul for.”

“But apparently, some might be?” Joshua fiddles with his hair again. “We don’t actually do that, you know. It’d be a waste of a perfectly good soul.” Like Shiki cares? But Joshua just laughs and continues. “I admit, you have me curious. What kind of deal would you sell your soul for?”

She should tell him to knock it off. She should run. She should forget this whole stupid plan and tell Rhyme she was dumb for even considering it. (But Yamasaki’s Partner thought he should put the jacket back on. But even if it was cheating, it might be worth it, for Neku. But a favor for the evil plan just doesn’t feel right, after this many months.)

[thelooniemoonie]

"Good evening Fortuna City, this is your Narrator speaking..."

Haven't done a lot of OC art lately, figured I'd give my boy The Narrator some updated polish!

[quibbs126]

I’m listening to The Plagues from Prince of Egypt, and it’s tempting me to make a scenario somewhat similar to it in Cookie Run, in which in an ancient civilization, someone uses the Strawberry Jam Sword (or potentially any Soul Jam since we know they had a history before the Ancients. Just anything with potential incredible destructive power) in order to make the ruler stop whatever atrocities they’re committing, and doing so by bringing destruction upon their city with its power to try and force them into submitting, even though it’s reluctantly, as they don’t want to cause this. However this ruler refuses to submit, meaning more destruction. And possibly they’re also brothers?

I dunno, I don’t think I’m explaining myself well. Just like, something based on the song (though by this I mean just the song itself, since it’s been a while since I’ve watched the movie), but with “the plagues” being caused by the Strawberry Jam Sword (or again, whatever power’s being used). And maybe the thing the Moses stand in wants being different, but still ultimately wanting this ruler to stop something horrific they’re doing, even if in order to do so, they have to bring horrible things to their city, even though they have a personal attachment to it. A lesser evil sort of thing. Does that make sense? What I’m saying? I dunno, it’s the middle of the night

[oyasleepy]

littl mage guy ive been obsessed with