#-was less relevant but I wanted to keep it and it also didn’t fit anywhere else grammatically or within the train of thought and I didn’t-

[fictionalxreader-interactions]

Mobius x Reader (feat. Jealous!Mobius!) 

First and foremost...you couldn’t believe Renslayer allowed it. You were aware of how fond Renslayer was of Mobius, so it shouldn’t be too surprising. It may make you feel certain emotions you have to fight down because it wasn’t fitting of a TVA agent and far more of what you see in Variants. 

Second, you didn’t think it would go well. On one hand, you could see the logic after Mobius explained it a few times. But you still thought it too risky. Any given Loki was dangerous when facing in the field. Bringing the God of Mischief in a place whose sole purpose was to maintain order? That was asking for trouble. 

You spent plenty of hours trying to fathom all the reasons Renslayer gave to Mobius about why she wanted and should refuse his request. But more so trying to figure out the argument Mobius used to win. 

Seeing them in action...you kind of got it. 

Or at least became even more curious about this Variant. The amount of faith Mobius had in him made you worry. If anything went too wrong, what would happen to Mobius should the Time Keepers be too upset or become unamused by Loki’s mischief? 

Which is why and how you latched on to their cases. To help keep Mobius anchored before he sunk with that Loki’s troubles. 

Except...the Loki Variant was almost pleasant. Yes, he was everything his file said he was, but there was more to him as well. The less relevant facts that don’t make it onto the reports. The way his mind works is fascinating and you begin to see how and why Mobius managed it! 

Both you and Loki understand that Mobius is in charge. Loki also understands that you have more rank than him. So rather and always go to Mobius with an idea or theory, he begins to come to you first. Maybe he’s hoping you’re a little easier to manipulate, which you don’t put past him. But you’re very adamant that if it requires going anywhere or trying anything, you’ll be reporting to at least Mobius or Hunter B-15. He complies. 

Loki asks you questions. You answer in turn for stories about Asgard. Sure, you know of it, you’ve even visited a few times. But it was for a case and like many other places, it just blends in with the rest of the time line. You never really admired it’s beauty until you get lost in the stories Loki would tell about his childhood there. The moments that didn’t make it into the reel. Moments that mattered or impacted him in ways that the Time Keepers didn’t really care about. 

You begin to stick up for Loki more. It’s no longer just Mobius nearly pleading for everyone else to humor him. You do see the scared little boy Mobius did and you feel protective now. It still surprises you how much faith you have in Loki now, and you would love to bond about it with Mobius...if he wasn’t suddenly acting weird. 

It starts off small. With little comments you brush off at first. But it quickly escalates to him ditching you and not telling you about attempts to get the Variants killing the Minute Men. 

You could wait and see if it’ll fix itself...or you could confront Mobius. 

There really wasn’t much of a choice.

---

“What’s got your TimePad in a fritz?” You asked, crossing your arms and taking your stance.  “I don’t know what yo-” Mobius begins, trying to deny anything being the matter. You’re not sure if it was the look in your eye or whatever’s been eating him up winning after all. Rather than deny anything, he himself takes a stand and crosses his arms too. “You’ve never told me about (Insert you Jet Ski Equivalent Here ) before.” “Well...you never asked.” You reply with a small shrug. There’s a pause as you get lost for a moment, as if you had a thought on the tip of your tongue, but it flees just before you can recognize it. That feeling has been more present lately. Absentmindedly you add, “And I’ve never really given it much thought...”

“Until Loki?”  You nod, “He asks questions.” 

“I ask questions.” He commented. 

“You do. It’s how you got to your ranking, I’m sure. But it’s always been about the job...which is...what there is. What’s the point of me bringing up my interests in a moment on the timeline I can’t be a part of other than admiring it from far away?” You inquire. 

“The point is...you told Loki before telling me!” 

“Don’t you like Loki?” You asked with a raised, confused eyebrow.

“Do you like him?” He counters.

“I asked first.” 

“I ask..” He pauses to think of something to answer with, “with authority!” 

You scoff and roll your eyes, not completely believing you’re even having this conversation. You’re about to rebuttal, until it hits you. You pause and eye Mobius up and down before asking, “Are you jealous?”

His scoff came out with a fake laugh as he tried to play it off. You weren’t buying it anymore though, as all the moments of him behaving weirdly in the past couple of days now began to make more sense. 

“I...am just...worried!” 

“Worried?” You echo. 

“Yes! That Loki...has...manipulated you. Got into your head. That’s all.” He tries so hard to be nonchalant about it. 

“He hasn’t,” You assure him. You see his shoulders relax, and if he had been a bit more mature about this, maybe you wouldn’t have said your next line. But you did anyway, “I just let him into my bed.” 

As Mobius sputtered and struggled to get a response, you try to decide what happens next. 

You decide to put him out of his misery, and perhaps stop Loki from getting pruned, by saying, “I’m kidding! I doubt he could keep his mouth shut about it and I’d never live down B-15 or Renslayer’s look of ‘you could do so much better’.”

That seemed to quell him, if only slightly. He tries to readjust his tie but you’re sure Loki had already done so earlier in the morning. He asks, “How about you and I get together off of duty? Talk about Jet skis and (Insert Your Jet Ski Equivalent)?” 

“So you could manipulate yourself into my bed?” You ask with a playful smirk. 

He doesn’t deny it, instead he matches your smirk and says, “I’d rather call it wooing.”  

“Wooing?” You repeat, but smiling at him nonetheless.

“Yeah...unless you wanna invite Loki.” He chimes in childishly. 

“Let me see if your wooing’s any good before we get adventurous. You can ask him for tips if our first date is a complete disaster.” 

“Date? Like a date-date?”

“Make me regret it and I’ll shamelessly flirt with him the next mission.” You ‘threaten’. 

“His ego doesn’t need the boost and mine doesn’t need the hit.”

“There you two are! Enough love bird chitchat, I’ve got a new idea!” Loki declared as he found them. 

[sister-dear]

Sentence Structure and Flow

Someone on discord asked me about how I structure sentences and how I learned to write. I’m going to do my best to answer! Hopefully it’s useful. It got long, so I made it a Tumblr post.

On learning to write:

Sky_squido, the author of “What Hyrule Hadn’t Seen” made this presentation and there were several points in it that I found incredibly helpful.

The two main ideas that I found most beneficial:

It’s about the ~vibes. Every story or scene has some kind of overall theme or emotion. Once you’re far enough into your story to have found what that is, edit your word choice to match. If a word technically works but doesn’t fit the mood, replace it with something else. The actual definition of a word is sometimes less important than the emotion that word conveys.

Verbs are incredibly important. If you’re having trouble with your sentence structure - if your story seems boring or like the prose drags - look at your verbs. I tend to use “is” as a verb far too often (or “was” for those of you who write past tense), so a lot of my editing comes down to reworking some sentences to make the stronger, more interesting words be the action words. So instead of “Legend was walking,” the sentence would be “Legend walked.” Or, even better, “Legend strolled/stalked/slouched along.” We’ve gone from a passive sentence to something that tells us, in engaging fashion, not just what Legend’s doing but how he’s doing it and maybe even a little about how he’s feeling.

Filter Words

Another post I found incredibly helpful: examples of how to cut out ‘filter words.’ It’s great for adding urgency, establishing tone, and introducing strong descriptions into your writing. Basically, this is how to put ‘show, don’t tell,’ into practice at a sentence-structure level. I use this approach a lot when it comes to conveying character emotion.

A couple other points

Variation is your friend.

Repeating things draws attention.

Description slows things down.

1. Variation is your friend.

For most writing, it’s a good idea to vary your sentence structure and length. Dialogue with no tags is rapid. Same with short sentences. Short and choppy reads disjointed and fast. This also applies to paragraph lengths! Longer sentences and paragraphs read slower, and in turn cause your reader to linger; sometimes maybe even linger too much. A combination keeps things interesting.

Too many long sections in a row - be they sentences or paragraphs - causes reader fatigue. Don’t be afraid to break those up. Let your readers take a breather.

If all your sentences start the same way, rework some of them. Lead with the action in one sentence and the subject in the next.

Starting a new paragraph gets a reader’s attention. You can use this for punch.

You should have one topic, or one person speaking, per paragraph.

Important things go at the start of the paragraph. Readers won’t tend to remember as much stuff from the middle or ends. Speed readers might not read those sections at all. The above note about one topic per paragraph? This is why.

2. Repeating things draws attention.

This applies to everything from individual words to overall themes to something like a series of sentences all with the same structure. It can work for you or against you.

A lot of my editing winds up being me reworking sentences to avoid using the same word too closely in succession. I’m not talking basic words here, like ‘he’ and ‘said.’ Those are non-words. If you have enough strong words around them, they disappear. They’re fine. But to use a snippet from a current work in progress:

...(Legend) bares his teeth, river water dripping off his hair and sticking his tunic to his legs. He braces his legs, wet muck squelching over the sides of his boots.

I wound up changing to “sticking his tunic to his thighs” to avoid the repeated word “legs.” I didn’t want to draw attention to his legs themselves, but the state of them. “He braces his feet,” would also work, or I could just cut the sentence down. “He braces,” does the trick just as well, and might be what I go with for the final draft. If the sentence makes sense without the word, then you can let the unneeded word go and your writing will often be stronger for it.

This can be much harder to do with nouns than verbs. Sometimes you just need to call a sword a sword. That’s usually where I start to alternate between a small group of words. “Sword,” “blade,” and “weapon” can all be alternated between to try to avoid using the same word too close together. You might also be able to get around using the problem word at all, as in the example above.

Another note on non-words. Names and pronouns qualify! You can use them over and over again and readers won’t notice. In fact, trying not to use these words can actually draw more attention than just using them!

For example, referring to Hyrule as “the Traveler.” Is it relevant, in the context of what I am writing, that Hyrule travels a lot? Or am I just trying to avoid using his name too much? If the answer is the latter, either don’t bother or change your sentence structure to remove the name entirely. If you have a solid action word, the name will disappear in favor of the action.

Using ‘Traveler’ in this context draws attention away from whatever Hyrule’s doing to what he is. That may not be the best thing to draw attention to. If what you are writing is a story about Hyrule finally getting a safe place of his own to call a home, you could use it for contrast. In which case, save it. Use it once, so it has impact. But if I'm writing about Hyrule teasing Legend, referring to him in that way can disrupt the flow of the story. It draws attention away from Hyrule's personality and his interaction with Legend to his background.

The point is to do it deliberately! It’s okay to use names and pronouns a lot. ‘Traveller’ is a title. Titles stand out.

3. Description slows things down.

Anywhere you want to linger or draw attention is where your descriptions should be going.

The middle of a fast paced action scene where your character is concentrating on the fight might not be the best spot to go into deep detail about the surroundings or what the enemy looks like. Convey those details in bursts that are worked into the action: “Time nearly rolls his ankle on the rocky ground.” Be very sparing. What makes an action scene interesting is how the character feels about what’s happening. You only need enough information on what the surroundings look like for a reader to follow along, and you can probably do most of that setup in a brief paragraph before the actual action starts.

On the other hand, if your character takes a shocking injury in said fight and you really want to dwell on that moment? Or if they’ve got a really cool, flashy move that they unleash in one single exciting burst of fighting prowess? That’s the spot to let your inner poet shine. Slow those spots down and let the reader really enjoy what you’re doing by using your detailed descriptions there.

This applies to all action, not just fighting. Walking through a busy marketplace? Action. A conversation? Can be approached as action. The best spots to use lots of description will be the spots you want to linger on: the first glimpse of a long-lost friend through the crowd, that last hug as they say goodbye.

Description slows things down. Use it accordingly.

Most everything else I can think of is less to do with flow and structure and more to do with other aspects of writing, so I'll stop here.

[yeolmae-s]

a chanbaek analysis from a veteran exo-l

before anything else there are a few disclaimers i'd like to make:

i am writing this analysis right now because as a non exo stan i'm not into chanbaek that much anymore. of course i like them to some degree since i'm writing this and all but it's nothing in comparison to the way i felt about them two years ago. so i feel like it's easier to keep a less clouded (?) state of mind being where i'm at right now, mentally, in regards to them. i feel like i can look at things more objectively, which is why i decided to write this and share it with you all.

for all the smart asses out there, this is a ship analysis. yes, i’m reading too much into everything. that’s what an analysis is.

all translation credits goes to @/fyeah-chanyeol

i'm a chanyeol stan. this analysis will, most likely, have more information about him in comparison to baekhyun. this is simply because i consumed more content about him since he's my bias (such as magazine interviews, fancams).

i don't stan exo anymore, but it's not because of anything they did. i liked them for a long time and made a lot of different friends because of this fandom, therefore i experienced a lot of hurt, scandals, fights and didn't deal very well with many things, so i decided to leave. this didn't happen because of exo themselves and neither did it happen because of the fandom itself. it happened because of the relationships i had.

that being said, i haven't been following them closely for the past year and a half, but i still keep up with stuff a bit, although not chanbaek related stuff since i gotta dive in kinda deeper for that lmao. so this analysis is mostly in depth for 2012-2018. if anything that you perceive as significant happened after 2018 i'm more than willing to hear your opinions about it.

so, let's get started!!

MAMA ERA

I have always felt like Chanyeol and Baekhyun's relationship was strange. I started shipping them when they debuted and more specifically because of the 130128 ISAC. When I was younger I didn't see a lot to discuss in their ISAC interactions besides it being cute and shippy, but I've started to look at it differently now.

I think everyone knows how ISAC is known for being basically a stage for fanservice. The whole "dating ground for idols" issue aside, judging from the amount of attention they direct towards the fans who manage to attend the event, idols are clearly instructed to perform fanservice. EXO's first ISAC had to be full of it, obviously, and they did give fans a lot to be happy about, content we still get giddy about to this day, and I'm sure they were instructed to act like this to please us. I don't believe that fanservice equals "false interactions": if two individuals are talking, touching each other, they are interacting, even if it is a carefully planned setting made specifically for pleasing fans. They still get reactions out of one another through these interactions, it is still relevant to the way these people's relationship will develop; even though these acts are done with the intent of pleasing a crowd.

Don't get me wrong, though. I don't think the 2013 ISAC fanservice changed anything in Chanbaek's relationship. In fact, I just want to use it as a way to illustrate something I will explain later on.

To be remembered in an industry you must have an image. You won't be getting anywhere without a carefully constructed visual image. Marilyn Monroe is always used as an example of this: she's someone you can easily make a costume of and people will instantly recognize it as her. She's basically a concept by now: blonde hair, red lips and white hair. These aspects take our mind back to her instantly. Of course, most celebrities don't achieve this type of icon status, but it is still important to cling to a specific concept/image of what you want your celebrity self to be perceived as. Without this, you'll be forgotten as soon as your career ends.

When Chanyeol debuted, he clung to the first trait they gave him: being a happy person, a.k.a "happy virus". If you were not an EXO fan back in 2013 then it's likely you're not even aware of this nickname that was given to him, but it's basically just what it sounds like (lol). He was bright, energetic, had a "teeth rich" smile (another nickname that was given to him back then), was able to give 10/10 laughter reactions to MCs and to his members jokes, was always enthusiastic to interact and smile towards fans. He even introduced himself as "happy virus Chanyeol" in interviews (and later on that changed to "EXO's voice Chanyeol" or "EXO's rapper Chanyeol").

I feel like Chanyeol was very much aware of this "must have" that I mentioned, this need to have an image pasted into yourself and have that image be what people will remember you as. We're all complex and multifaceted individuals, but the general public needs something simple to grab on to, something easy to remember. That happy guy from EXO? I know who he is! I'm sure this is the path Chanyeol chose, back when he debuted: to pick a trait given to you by the public and make it a huge part of your image.

However, that image of him didn't last very long. It certainly became tiring to worry so much about how he was being perceived, to carefully construct something so his career would last, specially when his group had so many scandals and went through a sudden burst of popularity that changed their lives completely. By 2017, Chanyeol already had a change of mind in relation to his career, these changes being mostly due to how he felt about music and what he wanted to do with it.

He recognized himself as having always being impatient, which might be the reason why he clung to a specific image so fast right after debuting:

From Fall Magazine in 2017

"At the moment I just want to enjoy myself with the music as it comes, without feeling as though I have to do something. It isn’t a greed from impatience, I could call it more of a greed to do better."

"When I first debuted I thought I was very optimistic, but as time has passed I think a more reserved side of me is showing."

"I think I've grown in many ways. Maybe it’s because it’s as though I perform everyday, but the stage has become comfortable for me. Shall we say I’ve become more calm and composed? [...] I think I’ve become more mature."

He matured. He's still bright and energetic but he's also more reserved. He managed to keep up the fanservice that his fans adore in a way that is more fitting to his actual personality. It still is an image, but an image that's not as exhausting as his previous one, with its strict demands to act in a certain way all the time. I remember specific interview with MCs demanding him to smile (although jokingly, of course) saying things like "Aren't you EXO's happy virus?", so I'm sure he felt pressured.

This is interesting to think about when put side by side with his relationship with Baekhyun. Back when they debuted, Chanyeol and Baekhyun were close friends that clearly felt comfortable with each other, and it isn't surprising to think that Baekhyun would be Chanyeol's first pick when he thought about doing fanservice with someone. Of course, I can't exactly pinpoint their first fanservice moment since I'm not a walking EXO encyclopedia anymore, but I can say with certainty that both of them felt like it worked as soon as they first tried it with the fans, and that's the reason why they kept doing it. Conveniently, they were both good friends, so all was good.

Until well, it wasn't.

At some point, Chanyeol's interactions with Baekhyun seemed too eager for Baekhyun himself. There are various moments where this is visible, such as this one:

Why are you grabbing my wrist out of nowhere young man........

Or...

That one pic where Jongdae, who was in front of them, looked so damn uncomfortable I can't even bring myself to google it

Of course, they had some over the top fanservice that did work out pretty well, such as this one, both of them imitating Jonghyun's and Taemin's Internet War stage, which seems a little scripted now that I look at it properly, with Baekhyun seemingly expecting Chanyeol to do whatever it is that he did on that day. (Can you imagine this: both of them backstage, watching Jonghyun's and Taemin's performance in silence, and one of them just blurts out "We should do that too!". What the fuck was going on)

By the way, if you have never seen the original Internet War performance, you can watch it here.

This is what they were imitating.

Tumblr won’t let me upload the gifs for this moment for some reason, so here and here.

You can't tell me Baekhyun wasn't expecting it already, lol.

Now, know what this moment reminds me of? ISAC. On their Internet War imitation moment, Baekhyun seemed fine, playful, even, agreeing. During ISAC, however, doing basically the same thing again (this time on a lighter way even; since they weren't, you know. Imitating a strong performance such as Internet War.), he appears reluctant. It's a bit painful to watch.

What changed? The ISAC event happened a few months after the SMTOWN concert where they did the Internet War thing, so what made things become so different?

If this has enough likes I’ll make a second part!

[reidswritings]

I’ll Fight For You

authors note; uhhh happy new year! this is just a little something i wrote when i was feeling sad and wishing i had a spencer. i am in NO WAY trying to romanticize depression lol also this is kinda based on the song moonlight by future islands (this isnt edited so if you saw a mistake, no you didnt)

word count; 2.5k

warnings; depression and anxiety

Heavy. So, so heavy. That’s how she felt. She felt like the whole world had its ties on her and they were dragging her down, down, down. It felt like the darkness had finally caught up with her. She felt as though she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. It was all too much— too much of an effort, too much of a task, too much to even get her body to sit up. 

She had been fine the night before— that’s what she was trying to convince herself. 

She hadn’t been.

No, instead she had been declining and everyone who knew her could see it. They could see it on her face, they could see it when her usually contagious smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. They saw it in the way she apologized one too many times. They saw it in the way she constantly zoned out. They saw it get worse and worse and worse every day. 

Bit by bit they watched as the disease clawed its way from the depths of whatever cave it lived in and did its very best to drag her back down into the darkness with it. 

They saw it all. They were just too polite to say anything. Too polite, too uncaring, too preoccupied. Too whatever. A part of her wished they hadn’t been too whatever. A part of her wished they cared enough to reach out. 

Though, she thought, maybe it was a good thing they hadn’t. Maybe it was a good thing they let her be. Maybe it was a good thing— it gave her the opportunity to get over whatever this was by herself, in peace. 

The Tired Girl wasn’t kidding anyone. They all knew what this was. This wasn’t some funk she’d get over. This wasn’t just a bad day. This was just her life. This was just how she had to live. This was her condition rearing its ugly head—her depression. It always happened to her at the worst times. It happened when she first fell in love. It happened when everything was going well at work. It happened when nothing was wrong in her life. It happened when her life was absolute shit. It always happened when she least expected it. 

It just always happened.

Beside her, she felt the comforter pull. It pulled away from under her chin, letting in the cold air. Letting in the bad thoughts. Letting in the intrusive thoughts. Letting in everything she desperately wanted to keep out. She felt him move from the bed, his hand patting her back. He leaned down, fingers tangling themselves in her knotted hair, kissing her head so softly she wanted to cry. She heard him grunt as he stood, bones cracking alongside the stretch he gave— she listened as he did the same thing he did every single morning. 

She heard him gulp down the glass of water from the night prior, she heard him walk into the bathroom connected to their room and she heard him hum to himself as he started his day. She listened as he twisted open the cap to his contacts, then his glasses case. She heard him opened the face wash and then the toothpaste. She heard it all, stuck in the bed like she was chained to it. Stuck in the bed like she was prisoner to it. 

She heard him do all these things and once again, like clockwork, she began to feel her body seize up. She felt her blood boil, she felt herself become so angry she could hardly stand it. 

She wished she could move. She wished she could get up to be with him. She wished she could partake in their morning kiss. She wished they could laugh together in the bathroom mirror, toothbrushes in hand and toothpaste falling down their lips and chins. She wished she could share a cup of coffee with him. She wished and wished and wished. She wished she wasn’t so angry at the world, at herself, at everything. 

Oh, how she wished she could just be there. 

Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. Time wasn’t relevant to her anymore. Her unfocused eyes were watching the curtains. They were pulled closed, dark and depressing— much like herself. She remembered when they bought the stupid drapes. 

The had bought the blackout ones, hopeful not to be woken up by the sun raising. She liked it at the time, she thought it was a good idea. . . at the time. Now, the goddamn curtains were hurting her soul. She wanted to pull them open. She just had no energy. She just couldn’t move.

So, she sat, staring blankly at the god awful blackout curtains. Until he blocked her view. Her eyes focused, meeting the beautiful hazel eyes she fell in love with. His mouth was moving but her ears hadn’t caught up yet. She could tell that he was sighing, defeated. She blinked, unmoving. She felt bad, she felt so fucking horrible. She felt horrible for her, for him, for everything. Still, she couldn’t find it in herself to move— to make it better. To fix things. 

She watched his hand reach out, slowly, settling on her covered arm. She could feel the warmth through her shirt and that made things a little better. Not much, but when you’re that sick, anything helped. No matter how big or small. 

She wanted to smile, thank him for being there for her. She wanted to kiss him like her life depended on it. She wanted to give him all the things he deserved— but still, she was unmoving, frozen.

Everything hit her at once, she could throw up. She could cry, she could scream, she could throw a fucking fit. She wanted to be left alone, she couldn’t handle anything. He was talking, she was catching the tail end of it. “—ou alright?”

Thick with sleep, with sadness, with morning haziness, her voice was loud, “Huh?’’

He spoke again, “I said, are you alright?” She could feel his thumb rubbing against her arm and it hurt. It hurt. Everything hurt. She shook her head, eyes closing again. She felt her face scrunch up, in annoyance, in pain, in sadness, in everything she wished she wasn’t. 

He moved his hand, the one that was just too soft, to her cheek. She wished it was soothing, she wished she could lean into his touch. The Worried Boy nodded, “Okay, okay. What can I do? How can I help?’’

The girl shrugged. She was sighing, heavy, it carrying everything that she had bottled up the past weeks. She knew what she needed, but she was too afraid to ask. Too afraid to voice her thought, too afraid she’d be too much. Too afraid that this would be the one thing that he deemed to be too much. 

He pulled the blanket back up to her chin, hands hovering. His mind was moving a mile a minute, trying, thinking of anything that might help his Pretty Girl. Her mind was creating lies, telling her that she was worthless, that he hated her, that she was nothing. 

It was a whirlwind— her mind. She willed it to stop, unsuccessfully, she curled further into her dark position. She felt his hands leave her, finally. A breath of fresh air rushed through her lungs, comfort and calm filling her veins. She could finally breathe— until she couldn't again. Her mind began again, throwing the nasty at her. It told her he didn't love her, it told her he didn't want to touch her. It told her she was too much. It told her all the things she didn't want to hear. 

It told her all the things he tried too hard to make her forget on the good days. 

"Hey." his voice cut through the fog, loud and strong. It was her light at the end of her dark tunnel, "Stop that."

He let out a breath, it fanned on her face, she welcomed the heat that followed. “I’m sorry.”

He was shaking his head, sad and feeling all the feelings for her. He wished away her bad thoughts, he wanted her to return to the usually bubbly girl she was. 

 Her world was suddenly shifting again and her mind becoming no less clouded, heavy as ever. The boy who she loved with her entire being, pulled her arms to her chest, sliding in bed behind her. His lips were moving against her ear, words brushing her skin. 

Her ears were picking up on the sweet nothings her pretty boy was murmuring, but her mind was on a different path. Her mind was fogged. It was like she was watching, listening, through a fogged up piece of glass. 

She could feel his arms on her body, it was comforting. And before she knew what was happening to her, her mind was swirling again. It was sharp. She found her voice, strong in the disappointment that was her illness. “Spence— Spencer, I-I.”

She stopped, depression kicking her in the ass. Spencer’s voice was louder. “Don’t, don’t stop. Keep going, push through, Y/N/N.”

“I’m so tired. I feel like. . . everything is just so hard right now, Spence.”

He sighed, she did too, eyes heavy and lethargic. She was so fucking tired, she felt like she could pass out any second. She felt like she hadn’t slept in ages. Her head fell back on to his shoulder, his hands bursting away the knotted hair away. If she wasn’t in this funk, she knew her heart would’ve skipped a beat at the simple gesture. Breath heavy on her lungs, on her body, on her mind and soul, she exhaled.

Her boy nodded, squeezing her just a little extra. “That’s it. Let it out.”

His hands were moving again, brushing against her cheeks. He was wiping, lingering. Her eyes caught his hand when he finally took it away, it was wet, glistening in the small amount of light that illuminated the two. 

“I’m sorry. . .” The broken girl breathed. She wasn’t sure why she did so. All she knew was that it was second nature. Saying those words was up there with the need to breathe, pressing and dire. 

“. . .Why?” It was just as quiet as her cries— the ones that she barely had a clue were happening. 

Despite the ignorance, she cried harder, eyes and face scrunched up tighter than Spencer had ever seen. Her breath had caught, faster than they both wanted. Her heart seized up, sad and lonely— despite the pretty boy beside her. She wanted to be anywhere other than where she was. She was tired— tired of feeling the way she did. Tired of feeling like she wasn’t enough for him. Tired of feeling like she was more a burden than a blessing. She was just so, so fucking tired. 

She knew she could talk to him. She knew that. Of course she did, it was Spencer— she could tell him anything and he’d never, ever, in a millions years, judge her or make her feel like less for having her own thoughts and opinions.

So, it was usually easy to talk to him. It was easy because she loved him. She loved the way he responded, she love the way he would light up every time she sat him down and told him everything. It was easy because he would get this look on his face that she rarely ever saw. He would get this look that she loved more than anything in the whole world. More than chocolate, more than her favorite movie, more than her friends, more than everything. 

Y/N’s most favorite thing in the whole world was the look that crossed his beauty whenever she talked to him. When it happened, it was like the whole world had stopped. To, Spencer, it was like everything in his world had become. . . secondary. Like, nothing else mattered to the pale boy except the words that were leaving his pretty girl. His eyes would grow all wide and innocent and it warmed Y/N’s heart every damn time. 

She quickly learned that to see her favorite look, she had to talk. To him. About everything. Even the ugly. Even her deepest darkest secrets. And she did, quite often too. So, when the broken girl cried out in-between sobs and choppy breathes a very heart-wrenching, “I don’t know!” Spencer knew something was amiss. 

His hands were back in her hair, pulling it away from her eyes, her forehead, opening up the girl to the light he so desperately wanted to share with her. “Hey, just breathe.”

Cries still there, just not as present, she sat up. Looking at her boy through the blurry vision that were her tears, she said, “You don’t deserve this.”

He didn’t answer, he only raised his hand, to place on her shoulder, probably. She flinched away and hurt crossed his features before he placed his hand back down onto his own leg. She continued, head shaking, “You know that, don’t you? You deserve someone who can get up with you in the morning. You should have someone who doesn’t wallow in their own pity and despair. You deserve more than me, Spence.”

“I don’t think you understand, Y/N.” His voice had a bite of sadness to it. Y/N could tell. His eyes were far away, though maintaining eye contact. 

“Understand?” Her breath stilled finally. She was perplexed with her beautiful boy. An action that happened quite often. 

His beautiful eyes returned, he shook his head slightly. His mouth turned up at the side and he let out the smallest of chuckles. “Y/N, I-I— You mean everything to me.”

The boy cleared his throat, probably to flush away the tears that threatened to show through his voice. Then he continued, looking at his pretty girl. “I will tell you until the end of time. I’ll tell you until it gets through that thick skull of yours.” He chuckled at that, a finger tapping against her temple. 

“Spencer, I’m just so, so tired. Tired of everything.”

Her boy sighed, sad again. “ We fight for each other. You fought to clear my name, you fought to get me clean. . . again. We fight for each other, Y/N/N. And right now, I’m asking for you to make the choice to stay, because I cant do this without you, Y/N. I’m gonna fight for you. I’ll fight for you, until I don’t have to anymore.”

And for once, 

For once,

For once, she realized, she wasn’t quite as alone as she had thought. She wasn’t the only one that experience this kind of sadness. She realized that her once small, dark world was no longer small and dark. 

Not with Spencer Reid pulling her through the dark, never ending tunnel. Now, she wasn’t cured, not by any means, of course. But, it hurt just a little less knowing he was right there with her. 

Knowing he was her light in the dark storm of life. And that was all she needed. 

[magical-girl-hell]

A Fan-%#&#$-tastically Good Story

A Reading Guide to Marvel Comics’ Loki

This is an updated version of an old post that was getting a little unwieldy to edit. Same caveat as the original post: this isn’t every appearance of Loki in the last fifteen years, but it’s pretty dang close! I’ve tried to focus on trade paperbacks with the most commonly listed author, to make it easy for people to find them.

Part 1: 2007-2015

Thor by J. Michael Straczynski (volumes 1-3)

Thor, now king of Asgard and wielding the Odinforce, is returned from the void after Ragnarok. He decides to bring back the rest of the Asgardians and establish a new Asgard floating above Broxton, Oklahoma, but Loki has plans of his own –  or rather, her own.

There’s a lot in these, but particularly there’s a good amount of time devoted to Loki’s origin and how he came to be adopted by Odin. I highly recommend these! They’re quite good, and if you’re new to the Marvel Comics universe (if you’re coming from the cinematic universe, for example) it’ll give you a good idea of who the characters are and how they fit into this world.

Thor by Kieron Gillen (Complete Collection) and Siege by Brian Michael Bendis

With the help of Norman Osborn’s Dark Avengers, Loki works to bring new Asgard crashing down – but the heroes bring chaos that not even Loki is prepared for.

Thor: The World Eaters by Matt Fraction

In the wake of the siege of Asgard, Thor misses his brother. Oh, and Galactus wants to eat Earth or something.

These are transitional, and there’s a lot less focus on Loki overall, but I still recommend them. Siege is a big Avengers crossover event, Gillen’s book and Siege contain the end of Old Loki, and World Eaters contains the beginning of Kid Loki. If you want to skip them, the next entry in this series will recap them.

Journey Into Mystery by Kieron Gillen

The complete(ish) adventures of Kid Loki. The old Loki is dead and in his place is a new Loki: a child with no memories of his predecessor’s evil. But Asgard doesn’t trust him, and old Loki left behind plenty of schemes. Some crimes can never be forgiven.

If you want these in paperback and you can afford it, there is a pair of lovely and sadly out-of-print omnibus books, but for the rest of us peasants, there are five volumes to keep track of:

Journey Into Mystery: Fear Itself

Journey Into Mystery: Fear Itself Fallout

Journey Into Mystery: The Terrorism Myth

Journey Into Mystery: The Manchester Gods

The Mighty Thor / Journey Into Mystery: Everything Burns

Tie-ins:

The Mighty Thor by Matt Fraction (volumes 1-3) -- While Loki and Leah are doing their own thing in Journey into Mystery, Loki’s having some adventures with Thor on the side, as well. If you want to read about them, this is where to find them.

Young Avengers by Kieron Gillen

Loki schemes to manipulate a bunch of teenage superheroes into helping him regain his full power as the group is pursued across the multiverse by the sinister Mother: an extradimensional entity invisible to adults, who manifests as murderous doppelgangers of the teenagers’ parents.

At least digitally, these are available now as a single collection: Young Avengers by Gillen & Mckelvie: The Complete Collection (But one comic didn’t look that great so... enjoy the original three trade paperbacks -- the full collection has the same cover as the last volume, sans volume title.)

Tie-ins:

A+X 005 (collected in Marvel A+X TPB: Equals Awesome) -- Directly before the events of Young Avengers, Loki appears in issue 5 of Marvel’s one-shot crossover series A+X, in a teamup (of sorts) with Mister Sinister. I can’t find the trade paperback anywhere, but it’s just a one-shot side story and he only appears in the one issue, so unless you’re really invested in finding out the fate of Doom’s Loki clones from Siege or you want to read the rest of the Avengers/X-men teamups in the book, you can skip this.

Loki: Agent of Asgard by Al Ewing

Loki makes a deal with the All-Mother of Asgard: for every mission he takes on for them, they will strike one of old Loki’s crimes from the books. Since the old Loki was reborn when Thor called the Asgardians back from the void, he has been scheming and struggling against the vicious cycles of his past. Loki has done terrible things to become the god he is today -- and now he is determined to wrest back control of his destiny and write his own story at last.

Or die trying... again.

Original Sin: Thor & Loki -- The Tenth Realm by Jason Aaron and Al Ewing

Loki takes a break from dealing with the All-Mother’s missions to accompany Thor on a mission to the sealed-off tenth realm to find their long-lost sister.

These are available as a single complete collection digitally (Loki: Agent Of Asgard - The Complete Collection), and I highly recommend it, as it also contains the relevant parts of the elusive Marvel Now! Point One 001 one-shot prequel comic (without which, the beginning of Agent of Asgard is rather abrupt.) Otherwise, if you want the three original volumes, don’t skip Original Sin -- it’s not recapped in Agent of Asgard, and without it the transition from volume 1 to 2 is very confusing. Think of it as volume 1.5.

Tie-ins:

Ms. Marvel 012 (Collected in Ms. Marvel Vol. 3: Crushed by G. Willow Wilson) -- (Takes place before Original Sin.) Loki makes some mischief in Kamala’s neighborhood -- and her love life! -- in the Valentine’s Day issue of Ms. Marvel. One-shot, can be safely skipped.

Avengers & X-Men: Axis by Rick Rumender -- The full Axis alignment-swap event. Relevant parts are included in the trade paperbacks for Agent of Asgard, but there’s more Loki content in the full event! It can be safely skipped.

Angela: Asgard’s Assassin (Collected in Angela: Asgard's Assassin Vol. 1: Priceless by Kieron Gillen) -- Loki has a brief part trying to help Thor hunt down their sisters when Angela steals Odin and Freyja’s new baby daughter, Laussa. Recommended if you liked Angela from Original Sin and/or if you’ve enjoyed the rest of Kieron Gillen’s work so far. If you’re just here for Loki, you can safely skip it, he ducks out of the adventure pretty early.

The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl 007-008 (Collected in The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl Volume 2: Squirrel You Know It’s True by Ryan North) -- Somewhere between the end of Axis and the end of Agent of Asgard, Loki helps Squirrel Girl trap Ratatoskr, the wicked squirrel-god of gossip – never mind that he’s kind of the one that let her out to begin with! While you can skip this one, I actually really recommend reading it unless you’re super not into SG. Loki gets a fair few more little teamups with her (including some that span multiple issues), Thors appear (in both Worthy and Unworthy flavors), and Ratatoskr stays relevant. It’s pretty easy to find single issues digitally if you don’t want the whole tbp. (Loki appears in the second half, in issue #8)

Honorable mention:

Thor and Loki: Blood Brothers by Robert Rodi and Esad Ribic -- In an alternate universe, Loki has waged war on Asgard and won, and now he must decide what to do with his new crown and his captured enemies. To secure victory for all time, all he must do now is execute Thor -- so why does he hesitate?

A heavy deep dive into Loki’s character, his past, and his relationships that, while not canon to the 616 comic universe, has greatly informed both the comics and cinematic adaptations of Loki. A piece of Loki history, and the source of a lot of common fanon.

-

I’ll link to part 2 when it’s finished. Until then, enjoy this updated guide!

I don’t know that I remember some of these well enough to give good content warnings for them, but I definitely remember Siege in particular having some brief but surprisingly extreme gore, so you might want to skip it if that’s gonna bother you. (And maybe World Eaters, if that contains the dream arc?) Tenth Realm and Asgard’s Assassin also both contain babies in mortal peril.

[whenisitenoughtrees]

to be honest, capable (of holding you) (part 1/3)

He walks forward, crouching over the snake, and when it doesn’t stir at all, he works up his courage and pokes it, just a little. Its scales are warm and smooth under his fingertip, and he resists the urge to stroke them. He doubts he could get away with that.

“Janus?” he asks, trying to keep the somewhat hysterical laughter from his voice. “That you?”

Thomas didn't know that Janus could turn into an actual snake, but he's glad to hang out with him regardless. More than glad; ecstatic, even, because he's been trying to figure out how to befriend him for ages, and this seems like a good first step. What he can't figure out is why human-Janus is being so weird about it.

(Alternatively: Janus doesn't trust easily. He wishes he could stop trusting Thomas— it would be so much less terrifying.)

Chapter Warnings: brief fear of strangulation (no actual strangulation occurs)

Chapter Word Count: 2,926

Pairing: platonic Thomceit

(part 2) (part 3)

(masterpost w/ ao3 links)

It starts with the snake in the sunshine.

Thomas supposes that’s not entirely right, because in order to be truly accurate, he would have to acknowledge that ‘it’ started a long, long time ago, when he was a kid, or perhaps even when he was a baby. He’s not certain; he’s never thought to ask any of the sides when, exactly, they developed. And he’s also not certain when they became… the way that they are, instead of just being regular, non-sentient parts of his personality like literally everyone else on the planet is made up of, when his heart became someone called Patton, his logic someone called Logan, and so on. But he doesn’t think that any of that is particularly relevant for this specific situation, so for all intents and purposes: it starts with the snake in the sunshine.

He spots it when he’s coming down the stairs, and promptly stops up short on the third to last step, because, snake. In his apartment. And he knows that things like this happen in Florida, knows that wildlife has a tendency to encroach on human settlements (and he has heard enough horror stories about alligators in people’s backyards to last a lifetime, thank you), but it’s never happened to him before, and he’s not sure what to do about it.

It’s lying in the sunlight slanting through the window, coiled tightly, unmoving. It is white, with dappled yellow patterns all across its back, though there appears to be some kind of black marking on its head. It’s fairly large, too, far larger than any snakes he’s seen outside of a zoo, and he briefly entertains the notion that this might be a zoo escapee, though he’s not certain of how that would have happened. Or of how it got into his apartment in the first place. He definitely would have noticed it sneaking through the door, right?

He manages to overcome his initial fear, carefully dismounting the last few steps and approaching cautiously, sure to stay out of striking range. He doesn’t know much about snakes, doesn’t know how to tell if this is a venomous one or not, and he’s not taking any chances. Though, isn’t it something to do with the shape of their heads? Don’t venomous snakes have pointed heads? That sounds right. And this snake’s head doesn’t look particularly angular, so perhaps he’s safe, though he still doesn’t want to get bitten, venomous or not. The next step should probably be to call animal control and let them handle this.

Something about it seems off, though. Something in its markings, perhaps, that particular shade of yellow, or that odd blot on its head—

Wait. That can’t be right.

He stops. Takes a few steps forward, squinting. Goes so far as to rub his eyes, because perhaps there is a spot in his vision, fooling him into seeing something that doesn’t exist.

But no, it’s still there.

The black spot on its head isn’t a natural marking at all. He’s still not entirely sure his eyes can be trusted, but for all the world, it appears as though there is a tiny black bowler hat perched between this snake’s eyes.

And just like that, everything clicks. All the fear rushes out of him at once, leaving him breathless with relief. He can’t say that there is no apprehension about this new set of circumstances, and a healthy dose of confusion is steadily building, but this is far better than there being an actual, real snake in his apartment.

He walks forward, crouching over the snake, and when it doesn’t stir at all, he works up his courage and pokes it, just a little. Its scales are warm and smooth under his fingertip, and he resists the urge to stroke them. He doubts he could get away with that.

“Janus?” he asks, trying to keep the somewhat hysterical laughter from his voice. “That you?”

Slowly, the snake lifts its head, looking up at him with slightly glassy eyes. For a few seconds, they both participate in what has to be the strangest staring contest of Thomas’ life. Thomas loses, because the snake that is probably-almost-definitely-Janus doesn’t seem to blink.

Snakes don’t have facial expressions. Thomas is fairly certain of that. And yet, he gets the distinct impression that Janus is waiting for something; it’s in the gleam of his eyes, the slight tilt of his head, almost like he’s issuing a challenge.

“It’s totally cool if it is,” he clarifies, raising his hands. “Uh, you can feel free to stay there as long as you want. But uh, I just wanted to make sure that it was you and not some random snake.” He smiles, casting about in his mind for something to say. He’s not yet sure how to talk to Janus, not sure how to interact with him now that he’s offered up his acceptance, but he’s certainly going to try his best. He wants to get to know him, wants to understand him better. He deserves nothing less. “There’s only room for one snake in this apartment.”

Janus stares at him for a while longer, and then nods, a fluid, intelligent motion that is slightly disturbing coming from something that looks like an animal, but Thomas can deal. If his sides can shapeshift into his friends, and puppets, and giant frog monsters with abs, he can cope with his snake-like side becoming an actual snake. It’s hardly the weirdest thing he’s ever seen.

Janus returns to his coiled up position, apparently intent on taking a nap, and frankly, Thomas can’t blame him at all. A nap sounds great right about now. He’s not entirely sure why Janus has chosen to do so here, rather than in the mindscape; he’s certainly never seen any of the other sides sleep in his apartment. But he’s hardly about to make Janus leave, even if he’s bemused and a bit discomfited, so he wanders off to grab a snack and get back to editing, leaving Janus to sleep in the sunlight.

He’s gone by evening, and Thomas isn’t entirely sure when he left. It’s a few days before he shows up again, in the exact same spot, in the exact same sunbeam, and Thomas greets him but otherwise leaves him be.

From then on, it sort of becomes a thing. On cloudless days, Janus pops up as a snake to sun himself in the living room. Sometimes Thomas will chat with him, making idle conversation that he’s not sure is listened to, and sometimes he stays silent, content to do his own thing while Janus does his. It turns into a comfortable habit, on his end, at least, and he hopes that Janus is comfortable with it too. He thinks he is; at least, he never gives any indication otherwise.

He’s still not sure why exactly this is happening, but he hardly feels the need to complain.

But then, Thomas walks downstairs one day to find Janus staring directly at him.

He pauses, thrown by the change to their routine. Most of Janus’ body is curled in on itself, like usual, but his head is reared, and as Thomas watches, he sways back and forth slightly, a constant, seemingly automatic motion. His tongue flickers in the air, but he makes no sound, neither hissing nor speech, and though Thomas isn’t sure that he’s capable of talking while he’s like this, he’s heard him hiss a few times, so this silence is unnerving.

“Hey,” he says uneasily. He gives a half-hearted little wave, which he regrets almost instantly, feeling like an idiot. “Uh, is something the matter?”

Janus looks pointedly to the window behind him, and then back to Thomas again. It only takes Thomas a few seconds after that to realize what the issue is.

It’s raining.

And not a light rain, either, not the kind that casts grey shadows over the world and taps gentle, soothing rhythms against the windowpane. This is a storm, dark and furious, wind whipping and tearing into the trees and sending gust after gust of the torrential downpour against the glass. It is late afternoon, but it may as well be night for how dark the sky is. There is certainly no trace of sun poking through, and thus, no light for Janus to lie in.

He walks closer, though hesitantly. “I’m not sure what to tell you, buddy.” He winces as soon as he says it; ‘buddy’ doesn’t fit Janus at all, feels too presumptuous, like he’s assuming a closeness that doesn’t yet exist. He’ll keep trying. “I can’t control the weather.” He pauses, looking back to the snake, who has drawn up slightly, his head now almost level with Thomas’ waist. “Um, is there not anywhere in the mindscape that you could find some sun?”

Janus hisses, loud and sharp, opening his mouth to flash some fang. Instinctively, Thomas takes a step back.

He’ll take that as a no.

He rubs the back of his neck. “Well, I’m not sure what to do, then,” he says. “It’s supposed to be like this all day.”

Snakes cannot look disappointed. They cannot glare. They are literally incapable of those facial expressions. So how Janus is managing to convey angry dejection is absolutely beyond him. And he doesn’t know how to comfort him, doesn’t know if comfort would even be welcome; in a way, Janus is a lot like Virgil, not that he would ever dare to speak that opinion out loud. They present themselves entirely differently, but at their core, they are both proud, stubborn and guarded, if in varying ways. Thomas has learned Virgil fairly well by now, knows how to slip past his walls, but Janus is a different story.

But still, seeing him so disappointed doesn’t sit right with him. So he reaches out on instinct, running a finger down the scales just past his head in an attempt to offer comfort through touch, and he doesn’t realize that this may have been a mistake until Janus stiffens, going completely rigid and still. He pulls his hand back hastily.

“Sorry!” he says. “I should’ve asked first, I’m sorry.” He frowns, glancing from Janus to his finger and back again. “You’re really cold. Is that normal?”

Snakes are cold-blooded. He does know that much, knows that they rely on external factors in order to maintain their body temperatures. He just never thought that such a restriction would apply to Janus, considering that he is, in fact, an imaginary snake and not a real one. But if he’s wrong, if Janus truly does need an outside source of heat in order to stay warm himself, then that would explain his distress.

Janus hisses at him again and ducks back down, curling into himself until he resembles a convoluted knot, his head nowhere to be seen. It’s almost upsettingly cute, not that Thomas would risk voicing such a thought. He crouches down instead, considering his options. Would Janus accept his help, if he offered it?

There’s only one way to find out.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Um, look, I can’t turn on the sun for you, but you look super uncomfortable, so if you wanted, you could… wrap around my arm, or something? Body heat would help, right?” He hesitates; Janus is fairly long, probably about five feet, possibly a bit longer, so the logistics might be a bit tricky. But he’s sure they could figure it out, if Janus would be amenable. Slowly, he stretches a hand out again, placing two fingers on Janus’ scales and stroking them with a feather-light touch. He really does feel cold.

Janus uncoils himself, hissing loudly, but he leans into the contact in a way that almost seems like desperation, like he’s trying to steal all the warmth he can from Thomas’ fingertips. And after a moment, the hissing stops, and he regards Thomas with an almost wild stare.

“Really,” he presses, unsure of what Janus is thinking. “I wouldn’t mind. Unless it’s not something you’re comfortable with, in which case, that’s fine, we could figure out something else. I… might have a heated blanket?” He casts back in his mind, trying to figure out if he does, in fact, possess a heated blanket, or if he just used to have one and is remembering incorrectly. If he doesn’t still have it, he’s not sure that he owns anything else that would help; snakes like heat lamps, he thinks, but he definitely doesn’t have one of those. Could he turn on the oven and set Janus in front of it? Would that work?

He is jolted out of his thoughts by the sensation of Janus’ head rubbing into his hand, like a cat seeking attention. He freezes, and so does Janus, and for a long moment, they have another one of those staring contests. Then, Janus sets his head primly on the back of his hand, still staring, as if asking for permission. Something bright and warm blooms in Thomas’ chest, and with his free hand, he gestures to his arm, trying to suppress the grin that wants to spread across his face.

Janus hesitates for a second longer. Then, he slithers up and around Thomas’ arm, and Thomas shivers at the sensation of frigid scales sliding across his skin. At first, it seems as though this won’t work, that Janus is simply too big to settle comfortably, but Thomas watches in fascination as Janus begins to shrink, landing on a much smaller size, perhaps two feet long, a length that can wrap around his arm with ease. Somehow, throughout the process, the tiny bowler hat remains perfectly balanced.

And just like that, there is a snake looped around Thomas’ arm.

“Alright,” he says, trying not to sound as giddy as he feels, because this is the closest he feels like he’s gotten to making a personal connection to Janus in months. “Okay, cool. Um, I was planning on getting some more editing done, so you can just hang out while I do that, I guess. Feel free to hiss at me or something if you get uncomfortable.”

Janus remains silent, which he will take as a good sign. In fact, he remains silent for the better part of an hour, lazily regarding the computer screen as Thomas attempts to wrangle his filmed material into something worth posting. He ends up doing most of the work with one arm so as to disturb Janus as little as possible, but he finds that he doesn’t mind. After a time, he almost forgets that Janus is there at all, becomes accustomed to the chilly weight of his scales on his arm, the slight movements as he shifts in place every now and again.

But then, those slight movements become bigger movements, and Thomas stills, tensing as Janus uncoils and begins to slither his way up his arm and under his shirtsleeve. His breath catches, and chills shoot down his spine; Janus is warmer than before, but still cool, and the sensation as Janus moves across his shoulder and emerges from his shirt’s collar is odd, unfamiliar. He exhales shakily as Janus continues to move, looping himself around his neck several times, just tight enough that Thomas is very aware of his presence, of the fact that there is a snake coiled around his neck, and as much as he knows that Janus will not physically harm him (and probably couldn’t, even if he tried), there is an element in his hindbrain that is gibbering at him, insisting that everything about this situation is a very bad idea, and that he needs to remove the threat.

God, he hopes Virgil isn’t paying attention to this. Except, judging from the way he’s feeling right now, judging from the almost audible oh god oh god get him off get him off, he definitely is, and Thomas is very surprised that he’s held back from showing up in person.

And then, Janus lets out a whistling breath and tucks his head between the coils and Thomas’ neck, and all the tension leaks from Thomas’ body as his rational thinking catches up to the situation. The way Janus is gripping him is nowhere near tight enough to cut off his airflow, and it never was, even though he seems to be pressing up as close to his skin as possible. But why--?

Was his arm not warm enough?

“You good there, Janus?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He receives no response, neither a hiss nor any additional motion, so he tries again. “Are you, uh, asleep?”

Again, no reply, so it’s probably safe to assume. He smiles, wide and unrestrained, and powers down his laptop. The storm outside has calmed to a softer rainfall, pattering against the windows, and other than that, the world seems quiet and still. It’s earlier than Thomas usually goes to bed, but he actually feels like he might manage to fall asleep if he tries, and a little bit of extra rest never hurt anyone. He’s been working in bed already, thankfully, so while he can’t lie all the way down without dislodging Janus in some way, Logan won’t lecture him too much if he falls asleep where he sits.

He reaches over to the lamp at his bedside and turns off the light.

“Goodnight, Janus,” he murmurs. Predictably, he receives no response, but Janus’ scales still press against him in the dark, a comforting presence as he drifts off.

------

General Taglist: @just-perhaps @the-real-comically-insane @jerrysicle-tree @glitchybina @psodtqueer @mrbubbajones @snek-boii @severelylackinginquality @aceawkwardunicorn @gayerplease @elizabutgayer @dwbh888 @thatoneloudowl @sanderssides-angst @gayboopnoodle @wildfire5157 @ldavmp4 @a-ghostlight-for-roman @sammy-is-obsessed @imlovethomassanders

As a note, I am willing to have a separate taglist for this fic if you just want to be tagged for the other two chapters. So if you want to be added to the taglist, feel free to ask! But please do specify which taglist you would like to be added to.

[dabidagoose]

What's your fave video game sountrack(s)? =^o

Ok that is a very loaded question so this is gonna be a long ass response, I hope you're prepared for what you've done.

(ok there's a tl;dr at the end if you want it sorry for this lmao)

FIRST POINT my immediate thought was the Ikenfell soundtrack (actually my immediate thought is I can't fuckin' choose they're all amazing but. then ikenfell). On the personal side, I was pretty much obsessed with the game for like three months straight, and i fuckin' love aivi and surasshu's music. I am also a simp for chiptune so jot that down. Moving past what may very well just be personal preference there are some incredibly interesting musical choices and impeccable choices story-wise that hit just. SO fuckin hard. Like emotionally. I won't elaborate on to the context and why the song works so well but the final battle theme is absolutely SPECTACULAR. (I could elaborate though so. ask if you will and i'll write another spiel on why it breaks my heart and soul). But also to reference a less-plot relevant piece I'm gonna bring up Alchemy is for Everyone. The squish bass sounds at the beginning are SUCH a fun environmental sound, it is really just NOT a sound I hear often which makes the track really stand out. And it fits SO perfectly for all the slimes and just. It's so WET. I love it. Makes me wanna wriggle. Which ok is probably also personal preference on reflection because my friend hates a wet song that I love but. Ok it's GOOD. Anyways continuing to the melody the fuckin PITCH bends. This is digital music at it's peak. We get the fun sounds. We get the fuckin pitch bends. Which are so fun because having slightly out of tune notes is such a fun feeling. It's a little off kilter, it's a little different. It's just SO funky and sounds so awesome to bend those pitches just a little bit, take full advantage of the medium and play around with it. Now I'm gonna talk a bit about why I love aivi & surasshu's music so much which. Ok so I believe(?) they coined the term "digital fusion" where you're mixing all these fun fresh digital sounds with real instruments/more traditional sounds and it can work SO fuckin well (for extra musical literature on this subject I'd like to suggest Yoann Turpin and specifically Chip Ship). Which we already get a taste of that where the pitch bends are playing on piano but it really kicks in when the violin takes over the melody and it's SUCH a graceful instrument in comparison to all this funky/awkward stuff we've had. The dichotomy is fuckin awesome. The violin is like a graceful victorian socialite ballroom dancing in after these pitch bends just pinned their arms to their sides and wiggled their hips around. We then get a third spacey instrument (I. have no idea what it is.) and it is. SUCH a switch. We have moved from awkward and stilted to almost too perfect and graceful (I forgot to write before but the high piano at the violin adds so much) to a moment of awe and discovery. We are now exploring the universe, the world of science and alchemy, and it is fantastic. The song almost seems to have it's own little narrative, and this is just a backing track for exploring one of the buildings!!!! This is within the first couple hours of gameplay, it is incredibly non-plot-relevant but SUCH a piece of art. I am absolutely in a slime ball watching amazing science happen so precisely and it is. so fuckin cool. And I could probably go off about every single other song, but in the interest of keeping away spoilers and finishing this post before 2 am, I will not. (Addendums because I can: this is less wet than the one my friend hates, and also this song is MOIST. I would also like to mention It's Showtime and Between the Lines as other song favorites but if I went into them I would never sleep.)

Okokokok. So. So SECOND point (I'm. so sorry.) I looked at my video game music soundtrack (I have two main soundtracks one for just every music but I didn't want to overwhelm it with VG music so I made one just for that that has ENTIRE soundtracks from almost every game I've played which. oops.) and I found two other contenders based mostly on I Really Liked The Games. The Oneshot soundtrack and the Night in the Woods soundtrack. Ok I'm gonna talk about Night in the Woods first cause HOLY shit. holy shit. The fucking astral songs. Those are fucking masterpieces. Such a simple ensemble but it creates such an INTENSE atmosphere. I really love instrumental music can you tell. I specifically want you listening to Astral Train for this one (played it for my senior recital and even though I had to play the violin part on clarinet I maintain it was one of the best choices I've ever made), but we the way the layers blend together is a fucking masterpiece. Since this song had to be designed so that any layer could play alone and each one could join in any order, each part of the quartet has to be interesting, but they still all must blend together and so they each get melody moments but the harmony/bass lines have to be interesting as well and. They ARE. This is such a hard task and it's accomplished SO. INCREDIBLY. WELL. (Side note: also makes for a good ensemble piece for, say, your and your friends' senior recitals, so everyone gets fun parts, a chance in the limelight, and a chance to rest, haha totally irrelevant note right there definitely no connection to my real life). With Astral Train we really get this cool ghostly train feel and through all the Astral pieces we REALLY feel the absolute intensity of Mae's dreams and the music creates such an immaculate vibe. It is unmatched. The rest of the soundtrack contains plenty of bops in a variety of genres too, where the bass songs have to be both playable and fun (Die Anywhere Else my beloved), and we get nostalgic and mischievous music fit for this ragtag team. This is the feeling I've had hanging out with my teenage friends at 10 PM in a parking lot. It is absolutely perfect for this video game. The music is SUCH a bop and really emotionally connects to me cause the game is such a bop of a plot. It is truly fantastic. (Addendum: Ok listening to Gregg rn and. Holy shit bop. I love him. I love this)

Ok now onto Oneshot, which, admittedly, does not have as strong a holding on the podium as these other two do, but curse me for having been emotionally destroyed by the video game because now I am emotionally attached to the music too. But, again, ATMOSPHERE. I am once again gonna be speaking in the interest of spoilers here, so I hope anyone who's finished the game will forgive what I'm not saying, but the entire landscape of this desolate planet is just SO much. The world is so simple and empty, and yet awe is often mixed with this feeling of despair. This is incredibly fitting for Niko, for the hopeful little pal they are, and creates an incredible effect. (I included specific song reccs for the last but I don't quite for this - so I'll just say now that I'm listening to On Little Cat Feet). The visuals are fairly simple, the map small, and just looking at the game the world feels incredibly small. But the music makes it all seem so vast. We really get put into Niko's shoes (or their little cat feet I suppose), and get to see this world for the vast, terrifying, but incredible place it is. The music makes you feel like that child seeing a new world for the first time, (this isn't spoilers past the first chapter but I'm warning you anyways) even though you are meant to be a god, you are still made to feel small and the world still large. The music does so much of this work, and it's incredible. Throughout the soundtrack the underlying angst, the despair, remains present, and the game has so much more impact for the music. No game is incomplete without it's music, and Nightmargin does a fantastic job creating this music for Oneshot. I haven't analyzed the actual music instruments/structure so much, but it's those instrumental sounds again tearing at my heart strings again. I would also like to recommend this game beyond the soundtrack, since it is an incredible story, with some puzzling gameplay, and it has made me feel how no other game has. It is a masterpiece of a game, and I implore everyone to play it through. Get hints if you need to, or play alone, just make it to the Ending. You'll know when you're there. (Addendum: I think I'm very repetitive here but I refuse to edit it so you have to live with this. Anyways gonna say it again: Play Oneshot!!)

Now I have chosen three game soundtracks that had a story that incredibly connected with me, and music to bolster that story and those emotions in incredibly meaningful ways. But there are so many others with great music, but that didn't necessarily connect on such an emotional level. Portal and Portal 2 have fantastic soundtracks, Celeste has beautiful music, Underhero has some funky and spectacular beats, Undertale and Deltarune are famously incredible (although I also did emotionally connect with them... but they're already talked about enough. Lancer beloved.), Clam Man is just. Fun., Oxenfree is also incredibly atmospheric and spectacular, Sewer Rave just has nice beats, and Minecraft is nostalgic as all hell. There are so many games to choose from, that from the moment I saw your question I knew I would be writing a far too long Tumblr post to answer you, because it feels an injustice to just answer one without reasoning, or without bringing to light all of the other amazing sounds I've discovered.

To finally answer your question, I think Ikenfell deserves the top spot in my heart. My instinct was right, there's fresh sounds, great musical structure (see: Between the Lines that I didn't elaborate on), incredibly emotional sounds, and fantastic storytelling within the soundtrack. But I love all of these other soundtracks, so I must bring them up. For they also have spots in my heart.

TL;DR - Ikenfell wins but I also love Oneshot and Night in the Woods and many others so I don't know what to say chief (lies i have too much to say)

[paullicino]

On the Internet

Taken from, and thus generously funded by, my Patreon. The above image via ExtraFabulousComics.

Do you have a flashlight nearby? A lamp, or other light source? Keep it to hand, it might become relevant for something, something I’d like to demonstrate later. The demonstration is simple and entirely voluntary, the flashlight is not essential. It works just as well as a thought experiment in your head.

Meanwhile, I’m going to write about the internet on the internet. Because that’s what we all do these days, isn’t it?

---

I still remember the excitement of our first explorations online. It was a kind of hidden, secret space of unknown dimensions when we found it as young adults. A weird sort of Narnia. A modem meant you could open this door to an entirely different place full of entirely different people obeying entirely different rules. You had to find ways of telling one another about what you’d found this week, either the next time you were together in person, via an email or, God forbid, by printing out a webpage. Twenty-five years ago, the internet was a collection of imperfect search engines (crawlers) taking you to out-of-the-way websites that were as likely to have been made by someone just like you as they were to belong to some major company or organisation. Its mess was egalitarian. It was a decentralised place full of curious corners and sudden surprises. It wasn’t somewhere we logged on to with an expectation of finding the familiar. It was a place of discovery.

It wasn’t simply that the tech wasn’t as good as it is nowadays. That much is obvious. It was the fumbling newness of the place. It was a primordial soup, we were all blobs and we blobbed around together, testing out the water.

It was a tremendously international space. It was easy to stumble across websites in other languages, to find places that weren’t for you, that were never created with you in mind, and at the very edges of these places their owners and their users might just blend together. Spill over, even. Everyone was from everywhere and they were all mingling, uncontrolled. It was liberating. It was mind-expanding.

The internet was exciting, it was new, it was unfamiliar. It was a place to learn. It was a place without an agenda.

It was also a place to be different. Niche interests found their audiences and young people could be united by what they enjoyed, not marginalised. There was no need to fit in when the place didn’t even fit together properly. For those of us bullied, bored, or worse in tiny homogenous hometowns, isolated or upset by the toxic social dynamics and popularity contests that school can create, it offered little judgement about what you should want or who you should be. It was a place to be genuine. 

I still remember the end of the 1990s, too. It was a decade of growth and change not just for a young generation, but for the wider world we were learning about. There was a peace deal in Northern Ireland, there was optimism in the media and there was a coming millennium that was supposed to be defined by technology and communication, the internet at its forefront. I was not a young man who could identify with very much of this optimism, but I was at least a young man looking forward to change, who could be accepted as who I was on the internet and who could be excited about what it represented. I’d never tried to be anyone else, even though being different rarely works out when you’re young, but now I knew for sure that I didn’t need to.

As my friends and I grew, so did the internet, and it became a place where we could share more about ourselves, where we could play together and where we found a bunch of ways of keeping in touch whenever we were apart. It became a tool to help me work, that kickstarted my career as a writer, as well as an ever-widening window on the world. It wasn’t yet too corporate, its websites and its tools not yet too monolithic.

I remember some of that early sharing. I remember talking to total strangers, a world away, about some part of my life or theirs. I remember talking to one internet friend of many years, who I never met, about British and American spelling. And about spelling in general. I remember they told me they weren’t sure how to spell a particular word and I said they could look it up in but a moment, since they were online there and then. “I can’t be bothered,” they replied, and that frustrated me so much.

The 90s passed and on September 11th 2001 whatever vision there was for the coming century was erased. The course of world events shifted immediately and dramatically. Never before had mass murder been so visible and so immediate. I remember talking not about how different the world was going to be, but that we had no idea how big a difference this would even make. In a very short space of time, it felt as if the world became not only so much more cruel and so much more cynical, but also so much more divided. I remember the weeks and months after those terror attacks as being my first experience of seeing people sharply divided in their politics, divided enough to be extremely angry, extremely offended, by the many suggestions of what should be done next. It set the scene.

As the decade continued, technology and communication certainly did change us. More of us were using the internet not only to talk, but for more and more of our everyday tasks. We were also sharing ourselves, too, in ways more personal and profound, and there was so much to know. I read a blog post by a Black woman from the American South describing the ways she had to bring up her son to interact with the wider world, how angry he was about it, how unfair it all was. I read updates from those caught in the civil war in Myanmar, talking about what they claimed the news didn’t show. I read about the realities of the rapid growth in Dubai, the working conditions and pollution. I read diary entries by people surviving the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, weeks without power and wondering when help would come. I read about the world in a way I’d never been able to before.

More than ever, the internet was a library of lives.

The first trip overseas I took by myself was all planned, booked and executed with the help of the internet. I flew to Chicago, in the United States, and I stayed in the most average hotel in the most average neighbourhood and it was wonderful. I heard real cicadas for the first time and walked through concrete valleys between towering skyscrapers that my tiny mind couldn’t process. In the evenings, I watched a plethora of American news, which was only ever about America, and that frustrated me so much.

The first interview I ever conducted with someone who wasn’t making a video game was with the writer Mil Millington. The interviews I really wanted to do were about people, their experiences, what they liked and why they do the things they do. Mil Millington was the perfect subject because we had both written about games, we both understood the reach of the internet and we were both interested in what the future of this medium would be. He had recently scored a book deal and written his first novel, Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About, based on his semi-autobiographical, tongue-in-cheek blog of the same name, listing comic domestic disagreements. I asked him what it was like to share all of his personal life online and he told me that, actually, he didn’t:

“I'm, honestly, almost obsessively private. It's just the way I write that, for some reason, if I say, 'Margret won't let me watch a film in peace,' causes people to think, 'My God! Mil's laying his whole life bare!'”

And then I realised that he had, of course, chosen to share all the things that he had. And carefully. It didn’t mean that those things were less honest, less real or less interesting, but he had been doing what all of us writers do: picking his words and his moments. We should all get to share on our own terms.

I liked his honesty. He wasn’t trying to prop up any persona.

---

A little after this time, I was asked on a date by a conservative American woman who I met in my first year at university in London. We saw each other a few times and stayed in touch when she returned to California. A couple of years later, the American Vice Presidential candidate Sarah Palin spoke about “death panels” run by Britain’s National Health Service. Online, I expressed my annoyance and anger both at Palin just making things up, as well as at the volume of people who seemed to simply accept her words. My former date said that Palin was allowed to “express her opinion” and I didn’t know how to begin to explain, to an adult in her mid 20s, the difference between fact and opinion, or that she could check such things in a moment, since she was online. That frustrated me so much.

This discussion played out over a relatively new website called Facebook, which had become an invaluable way to connect with my fellow students. I had feared being alone at university, lost in a big city, but the opposite had happened. As soon as we all finished our first year of studies and were hurried out of our student residences, we scattered across the capital and the closeness I had taken for granted was suddenly lost. But Facebook became a directory of friendship, another library of lives. In its early days, I made jokes about people oversharing, or using the site to attract attention, but this wasn’t any different to how some of us might behave anywhere else. It wasn’t such a big deal. That’s just humans.

And anyway, I like to share. My whole life, I’ve enjoyed sharing things I think are important because I feel like it helps me make genuine connections, express myself and feel useful. I saw the internet becoming another way of doing this, another way to be genuine. The younger me had played in bands and held dreams of reaching other people through music, in awe of those moments when an audience sings an artist’s lyrics back to them. I still wanted that, that connection, or some version of it.

On the ever-growing internet, we could all share ourselves more. It could become a new medium for acceptance and understanding. What a glorious future it promised.

---

In time, I adopted all of the social media platforms that I use because I enjoy human connection and I think one of the fundamental traits of people is that they can be so interesting. They do stuff, they make things, they go places, they inspire and they pull humour out of the most difficult of situations like a conjurer tugging an elephant from a beanie. I’d like to be able to do those things. Some days I can barely make a pancake.

Social media allowed me to make and share even more, and now I was sharing things with two people at dinner, ten people at a party or a hundred people online. The number mattered less than the creation’s ability to connect, because it all helped me figure people out and it helped me figure myself out. It helped me figure everything out so that, perhaps one day, I might also learn the trick that lets you tug an elephant out of a beanie. I would be able to say to people “Ah yes, you start with the trunk,” or “Surprisingly, you pull from the tail.” Then they could pass that on. Social media seemed particularly good for this, a way for us to all enrich one another.

In 2008, a series of devastating terrorist attacks erupted across Mumbai. Many of the events were documented in real-time by both journalists and locals using Twitter, which made the site seem to me to be an invaluable new perspective on current events. By the start of the next decade, the Arab Spring saw a broad uprising across North Africa, with thousands of people united in protest by the unifying power of social media. It felt like these tools could change our world forever.

Some other things happened as that decade wound down.

A woman on Twitter made a poor joke about AIDS and Africa before boarding a flight, only to find that, by the time she had landed, her words had been shared around the world many millions of times. A woman in England was caught on camera putting a cat in a bin, the footage of which went viral and received such an overwhelmingly furious reaction that one national newspaper asked, only half-joking, if she was the most evil woman in Britain. These events were shared, discussed and dissected with a comparable passion and level of investment as the terrorist attacks and the Arab Spring. On the internet, a cat in a bin was becoming as important as terrorists in a hotel.

I flexed some cynical opinions. We all had opinions by then (though still not the same as facts), because it was increasingly difficult not to get swept up in things like these as and when they happened. They were everywhere, echoed and repeated, with a kind of mentality of momentum. Countless people changed their profile pictures to something green in support of protesters in Iran, or added a flag to support victims of terror in France. They signed internet petitions demanding Something Be Done, though it wasn’t always clear where these petitions would be delivered or how they would compel someone to act. None of these protesters or victims were in any way saved, protected or enabled by a person on the other side of the planet clicking their mouse like this, but if a million other people did it, those metrics created a validity of their own.

I think I remember the late 2000s as the time that I really began to feel different about these things. But by then, I was too bought in. It had already gone from a habit to a dependency.

Year by year, the internet had become less egalitarian. Monolithic sites and spaces were increasingly the center of the experience, whether hubs like MSN and Yahoo, social media sites like Facebook or Twitter, or popular news outlets. We found ourselves in the same places, over and over, and we relied on these for our new discoveries. While social media in particular pitched itself as something that put us all on the same level, behind the scenes levers were already being pulled to shape and to manipulate what was shown and shared.

(That’s okay, people told me. Turn on this feature, or adjust these options, and you get to pull your own levers. That’ll undo everything. You still get to share on your own terms.)

These sites had swelled to envelop us, going from making themselves exciting to making themselves essential. We no longer went online, we were online, always, and we left more and more of ourselves there even when we were away from our screens. Social media allowed you to collect everything together, becoming a place where you could simultaneously read updates from your friends, your parents, Leonardo Di Caprio, the Prime Minister, your favourite newspaper and your favourite sports team. All in a moment and all competing for your attention. Sites like Google and YouTube started to track and understand the preferences of their users, delivering to them more of what they wanted, working hard to grab and to keep their attention. You liked that dog, that topic, that politician? Here’s another.

Here’s another, again.

I was pulling levers all the time, frantically now, like someone operating locks and gates to try and dam an ever more overwhelming flow. My social media sites had changed from something that I used to something I had to manage. Not only were we all carefully curating who we broadcast to and when, lest we offend an employer or shock a relative, we also found ourselves trying to coordinate and customise them, because if we didn’t they would do this for us. They began to choose what to show us, based on what they believed we cared about, they began to offer us things, based on who they believed we were. They even began to mess with time, giving us information and updates out of chronological order. All of these were changes we often had to undo or at least be mindful of, if we even knew about them. If we wanted to. And if we knew how.

If we didn’t, our reality might shift.

---

I still remember the excitement of our first explorations online. My first favourite website was Snopes, which was then a collection of myths and urban legends, most of them debunked. In the late 90s, bullshit chainletter emails would bounce around the internet with stories about how some Russian scientists had drilled their way to hell, or how a new computer virus had come out, or how Coca Cola dissolved human teeth. Sometimes, the strangest of stories really were true, or at least partially so, but most of them were trash. Thanks to Snopes, you could check such things in a moment. I loved that about the internet.

On September 11th 2001, almost twenty years ago now, it was difficult to disagree about what we saw happening right in front of our eyes. Nevertheless, there were a few people afterward who insisted that a plane had not hit the Pentagon, that the towers had been deliberately demolished, that some more mysterious sequence of events had transpired. They lurked in the darkest corners of the internet, much as they had always existed on any other margins in any other mediums. The rest of us could get on with our lives.

I grew up playing games and then, later, I became someone who analysed, critiqued and even designed them. One of the most powerful and important things I learned through games is that so much in life is based around systems and the longer a system is around for, the better we become at manipulating it. When a game has been around for a long time, we find many different ways to play it and sometimes we have to adjust the rules of the game to account for this. The rules for chess that we have today have seen many adjustments and revisions. The same is true for football. It is also true for our laws and for our systems of government. We have to modify these things in part because times change, but also in part because they are being abused and exploited, subverted in ways their designers never imagined.

Or simply used as optimally as possible.

It’s 2021 and the internet monoliths that we have begun to take for granted, that have surged like the rising oceans to engulf our lives and to carry us along their currents, are constantly being used in ways their designers never imagined. Two years ago, we thought the biggest problem we had with social media and internet monoliths was their subversion to manipulate elections, with great armies of bots and fake profiles being created and directed faster than the people who owned social media sites being able to prevent this. This presence could bring amplification and validity to anyone or to anything. “Learn the algorithm,” was the key to success online. Use a site or social media platform in a particular way and it will elevate you further. Elevate your work. Or your truth. Or just you.

Now, more than a year and a half into a pandemic that defines our generation, the areas of the internet with which we’ve become most familiar and most comfortable, those which we began to pour our lives and identity into, are not only places where elections were subverted, they’re places where the difference between life and death are considered a matter of opinion, where science and fact can be openly ridiculed, where conspiracies about September 11th are tiny in comparison. For some time now they’ve already been well-worn battlefields, public arenas within which opinion and force of will often carry more weight than evidence and reason, but now the consequences of doubling down on a belief are undeniably the difference between living and dying.

More important, for some people, is the difference between right and wrong. Not so much being right, but being seen being right, can give you validity, clout, value. I think we’ve reached the point where dying while being seen as right can matter more than living and admitting a mistake.

The flow of the internet, all those locks and gates opened by algorithms or AI or other people’s decisions that may simply have been motivated by a desire to give us what we like, have made it more difficult than ever to find things that go against the current, or to grasp something we can be sure is objective or straightforward.

One part of me believes that we can no longer look things up in a moment any more, because we have to second-guess every other thing we find. As a journalist and researcher, I never feel secure with what I find on the internet now and I dig, I verify and I compare, still coming away unsure, often worried I will publish something glaringly incorrect. A different part of me, a more dramatic part, sometimes wonders which things are even real.

I suppose anything is real if you can get away with it. If nobody ever notices.

---

There’s another aspect to all this, the aspect that makes me the most uncomfortable. The aspect I least enjoy discussing, but which I have to if I can fully explain myself.

Living alongside the internet, I’ve watched as some of us pull all those levers simply to control the flow as best we can, to keep ourselves afloat, but others have viewed this experience differently. They’ve seen it as a challenge, as another system they can manipulate. It’s an opportunity for them to choose how they present themselves. The more levers they pull, the greater their ability to do so. The more time they invest, the greater the result.

If you take your flashlight, lamp or light source and point it toward an object, you can easily affect the size and the shape of the shadows it will cast. Under your control, those shadows can lengthen or deepen, they can sweep and distort. A light up close can cast a gigantic shadow across a far wall, perhaps a sharp one or perhaps one fuzzy and undefined. Try it. See what you can make. The more you do it, the more tricks you can learn.

All of us try to present our best selves and all of us have our different selves, too. Forty years before I ever went online, the sociologist Erving Goffman published The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life, a book about how we behave differently in different contexts. It’s natural for us to speak to our family in a different way to how we speak to our best friend, or to our colleagues, or to a crowd we might be addressing in a speech. It’s not necessarily disingenuous, it’s merely a part of the human experience. But impression management, as Goffman called it, is also a matter of degrees. Some people are more invested than others. If given the tools to perform more effective impression management, more levers they can pull, they will engage even further.

I have flexed a few cynical opinions in my life (at least as many as three, the stats suggest) but, at the same time, I think I have to admit that I have also been very naïve about people. I tend to take many of them on face value and assume they are genuine. Many of us are, perhaps even most of us. But I’ve come to know both that this isn’t always the case and that, given the opportunity, some people will use every tool at their disposal to shape a false version of themselves. We’ve found ourselves in an era where this is more possible than ever. It’s no longer simply within the purview of politicians and PR firms, it’s within reach of every one of us and all we need to do is put in the time and energy. The reward can be ever greater popularity, ever more validation

And I’m so tired of seeing this.

Over the past half decade or so, I have seen the internet and its many systems gamed more than ever. Gamed for political gain, gamed for personal gain and gamed to create images, personalities and that god-awful golem of hollow and lifeless artifice that is brand. Now a person can be a product, a new kind of commodity in this ever more opaque ecosystem.

The nausea and unhappiness I feel from all this is more than the simple declaration that I’m not a brand, I’m a person. It’s the discovery that other people, sometimes people I’ve known, really are a brand now. Their time, their energy, their life is now invested in shaping and maintaining that image, that brand, perhaps even at the expense of other pursuits. And with the right manipulations, the right tugging of the correct levers, they can perpetuate that, build that and further gain the affirmations and validations they need to prove to themselves that what they have created is as solid and as true and as real as anything else. And how would we know any different?

The ocean is not so far from my home. It’s not unusual to walk the beach or the seawall and see people engaged in impromptu photoshoots, dressed in their very best, expertly presented and shot with long lenses. A friend told me that most of these shoots are for the purpose of enriching dating profiles, that there’s an increasing feeling of expectation, a sense that everyone must present their very best selves, simply because everyone else now does so. To be on a dating site is to feel engaged in an ever-escalating competition for time and attention, to need to package oneself as the best possible product.

I don’t at all object to the idea of dating sites, but I could never get comfortable with them and I used to feel like I was browsing a human meat market, that it was all too easy for me to make judgements about people I didn’t know and then cast them aside. I felt, again, like people had become products and this was a system and a process I did not want to be part of. You can game it, people tried to tell me. There are ways to make it work better for you, it just takes a little time. I didn’t want to know.

The more time you spend trying to engage with things that aren’t genuine, the less you have for what is real.

When I use the internet these days it’s with an increasing sense of discomfort and disquiet. I find myself already on the lookout for the artificial. I second-guess people as much as I do information. I’m all too aware of the constructed persona and the deliberate framing, of that angling of a light to cast a particular shadow. In a few cases, this isn’t an abstract concern and social media in particular can be a place where I watch people I know are starkly different to the image they project be celebrated for the false façade they maintain, a façade that can be further reinforced by popularity and prominence. I see harmful and unhealthy people championed even in spite of their actions, because they have managed to engineer support and validation, or using the popularity and affirmation they have gained to push opinion over fact. The disingenuous and the distorted tie together like a greasy braid, each one reinforcing the other, and it’s no wonder falsehoods can spread so far, whether false representations or false information. I would say that sometimes I almost feel like I’m back at school, amongst the same gossip and garbage, but this is far worse than any of the toxic social dynamics and popularity contests that school ever created, and now it comes with measurable metrics in the form of likes, follows, retweets or subscriptions.

I’m sure, at this point, this is a common experience and common concern for most of us, and we are each finding our own ways to handle it.

Or not. For me, the experience is deeply unpleasant.

While drafting this I idly wondered if we could somehow develop a new version of Snopes for human beings. A demystifier of people, something that reveals each person’s private Picture of Dorian Gray, which grows ever more warped as they reinforce their persona ever more. But I’m sure even that would be gamed and subverted before too long.

I'm so, so tired of trying to work out who is real.

---

The internet monoliths I move between in my daily life all have one thing in common. Google, Twitch, Twitter, Instagram, YouTube, Tumblr, Facebook, Patreon and so many others are all based in the same place: the United States. They are towering. They overwhelm the rest of the internet. The levers that many of these pull, controlling currents and flow, are being operated in the United States. The politics, existential crises and cultural interests of that country are disproportionately represented and, while I care very much about the United States, I also want to hear about the rest of the world. I want to hear about where I live, and yet even that feels like it comes second. Yes, I am pulling all the levers that are supposed to make this happen. No, it isn’t entirely successful. I am using a paddle against a tsunami.

Once the bias is there, the snowball effect perpetuates. So often, whether I choose to or not, I am in that motel room watching a plethora of American news again, or its modern equivalent. It frustrates me so much. Most of us Westerners essentially live in America some of the time now, if we spend any period online. That’s where our presence and our attention are pointed.

Before publishing this essay, I changed every mention of “torch” to “flashlight” because I felt I had to cater to an internet that sees the first word only as a burning chunk of wood, not as a British battery-powered light source.

The internet doesn’t feel like the world any more. It hasn’t for a long time.

---

I can’t abandon the internet of today. I need it for work. I need it to promote the things I create. I need it to keep in touch with people. I’m not different or special, only someone too bought in as well, my use also going from a habit to a dependency. But it has almost entirely stopped being a place of delight and discovery. It has lost any sense of being egalitarian. So much less is new, so much less is unfamiliar. So much more has an agenda.

Algorithms, metrics and social media have quantified and gamified everything, encouraging competitiveness and narcissism. Public spaces have become arenas and arenas encourage performance. In an attention economy, the outrageous and the overblown mean a cat in a bin can have the same profile and presence as terrorists in a hotel. In spaces that now mix our friends, our parents, Leonardo Di Caprio, the Prime Minister, our favourite newspapers and our favourite sports teams, people we know and love are elevated or relegated according to how interesting an algorithm has decided they are, pushing them to the fore or pulling them from your view. “People on Twitter are the first to know,” says the social network that prides itself on immediacy more than integrity or fact-checking. Misinformation abounds. As the line between person and brand has smudged between all recognition, corporations insert themselves into and between everything else we try to examine. Surrounded by banner ads, the conflicts of polarised culture generate enormous revenue for monolithic American tech companies. As we fight, push our narratives, construct our personas or compete in the race to prove we are the most woke, we all make @Jack richer, or provide Zuck with more of our personal data.

I also find myself reminded of what Octavia Butler called “simple peck-order bullying,” the hierarchical behaviour where people want to, and now can, elevate themselves above others, according to identities they've built for themselves, to push their ideas, push their image, push their sense of superiority or push their opinions so hard that they can reshape them into facts. Anything is possible with enough pulling of enough levers. And now more people have more of those levers. And some of them love to pull and then push, pull and then push.

I don’t like what the internet has turned into, nor what it has turned people into.

So what now?

---

This was an essay inspired by an essay, inspired by an essay, which is always how it goes. Creativity is theft and anyone who says otherwise is only trying to distract you as they secretly shake you down. The eternal question that writers (or anyone creative) is supposed to dread is “Where do you get your ideas?” Because we aren’t supposed to know. But we do know. We get them from everyone else. We thieve them.

Ideas are pickpocketed from the people we pass in twisting evening alleyways, during the briefest moments of darkness and distraction. They’re caught with nets as they flutter with all the freedom of sweet springtime naivete. They’re spied upon from tremendous distances through the jealous lenses of sparkling telescopes. Nothing is truly ours and anyone wringing their words into a desperate defence of some unique capacity for originality ex nihilo is either deceptive or deluded.

(Avoid them. You’re likely their next target.)

This essay was heavily inspired by Lucy Bellwood reflecting on Nicole Brinkley. Both have written nuanced examinations of social media (focusing on Twitter) that I think you should make the time to read, but I’ll try and sum up the main thing I have taken from their writing in one line:

Social media is extremely bad, in a multitude of ways and for many complex reasons, and it is okay to leave it.

This is in so small part my interpretation, coloured by a particular belief I hold, that being that social media is extremely bad, in a multitude of ways and for many complex reasons, and it is okay to leave it. You can probably see why I approve.

There’s more to it than that. Brinkley talks about Twitter essentially breaking the way the Young Adult literature scene works, which to me is one facet of a dangerously seductive diamond that repeats many different stories of damage done by how we’ve used and gamed the internet. Her wonderful conclusion is that “These days it’s okay to not be sure what Twitter is for. We can stop going there until we figure it out.” And I so desperately wish I could stop going on the internet until I could figure out what it is for now, too. I wish it wasn’t essential. But it is, broken as it may be, breaking things as it may be.

While I don’t think leaving it is an option for me, I am using so much of it less. I have to. Social media, a place where I am shown arguments and controversy over the lives of people I care about, has become somewhere for me to hurriedly hurl out a quick update or two before I flee, escaping before I come across something, or even someone, that will make me sad. Any search box is a cause for scepticism, prompting me to analyse the results it gives and try a dozen different ways to find the same thing, just in case. Even Snopes is now a running commentary on the (American) news cycle. The best I can do whenever I think something fundamental to our society is unhealthy is to participate in that thing as little as possible. I know this limits my reach, limits my relevance and limits my success, but I also know that this makes me less unhappy and allows me to continue to feel genuine. Like I am still myself. Like I am still real. It may be apparent that my mental health has taken a few hits over the last couple of years. It doesn’t need to take any more.

I am not only unsure what Twitter is for, I am unsure what the whole internet is for.

---

There is no conclusion to this essay. It is supposed to be six thousand words of open-ended reflection. The past year or so has sometimes been a huge struggle for me and it really is true that some days I can barely make a pancake. Work has been difficult, writing has been difficult and maintaining regular Patreon updates has been difficult, with this piece being a huge challenge to finish. I think I’ve tried to make the best of things, as well as present an honest but still positive face to the world. I have piles of tasks to get through and I tackle what I can, with what feels like so much competing for my attention. At the same time, I can’t opt out of the systems I live and work inside of, much as I can’t stop paying rent or putting food in my mouth, because individuals can't kick a habit society has become dependent upon. I think the best thing I can do right now is be truthful about all that, try to remain as genuine as I can and continue to step away from what makes me uncomfortable, giving myself some distance from the things that make me unhappy.

That doesn’t mean I’m disappearing (I’m still checking in on social media, streaming on Twitch and so on), nor does it mean this change or this philosophy is forever, nor does it mean that things can’t improve. But it does mean I’m changing a few things about myself, my habits and my preferences. And it does mean I have a working, temporary, if unsatisfactory answer to the question “So what now?”

It is: “We’ll see.”

---

A big thanks to my Patreon community for the links I’m adding here, post-publication.

The first is How sex censorship killed the internet we love, on Endgadget, about controlling the internet in all sorts of ways and about what might be considered explicit (apparently a condom might be explicit).

Then there’s The internet Is Rotting, from the Atlantic, about bits of the internet that are disappearing and the loss of information that comes with it, as well as information that is overwritten and altered. We are keeping less than you might think.

Finally, The web began dying in 2014, here’s how, by André Staltz, talks about the growing prominence of big corporations (all American), what their priorities are, and what online things (services) they may bring to you.

[szivtalan]

character ask: kagami, momoi, alex and himuro 👀👀👀

!!! omg thank u Ceru! u might be one of my favorite mutuals <33 (putting this under a read more just so I can speak at lengths about each individual character)

Why I like Kagami: this is where I sarcastically ask “why DON’T i like him” but that’s literally the next question so; he’s everything i want to be and more. He has the determination and the willpower to make his own dreams come true, he’s gay as shit, he’s tall and buff and well-adjusted, mature enough to live on his own at an annoyingly young age, he’s funny and dumb and a total himbo as well as an excellent advisor bc of how grounded he is.

Why I don’t: I’m... not really good with explosive people. Violent men with loud voices especially scare me, and I’d think I’d flinch around him a lot and that would make me rlly anxious.

Favorite episode: it’s a toss-up between the Seirin fam visiting his place for the first time (is it where Kuroko confesses his love to him and then passes out in his arms? idk), and the onsen episode. I also loved all his plays against Kise and Aomine. AND the training camp w him running a lot in the sand.

Favorite season/movie: season 2 probably because he’s not a jerk anymore, but he’s still on his way to shed off any asshole behavior stuck to him. And I actually liked Last Game?

Favorite line: “There’s no such thing as useless effort.” and “This is our drama and we write the plot.” because he’s so ridiculous.

Favorite outfit: all of his casual fits... comfy but manly is my Jam

OTP: AoKaga....they’re truly soulmates, star-crossed lovers, canonically brought together by fate.

Brotp/otp no. 2: KagaKuro, I love them

Head Canon: I have several collections because I think too much about this boy, but here’s something I think about his family: he doesn’t know what happened to his mom. He never asked, because it wasn’t relevant, and he didn’t want to inconvenience his dad by questioning him. Occasionally, as a kid he felt like he was missing out on something (seeing other kids with their moms, feeling like they’re being treated with much more gentle care because they have moms), but as he grew older he realized that nurturing behavior shouldn’t have been limited to only a mother, and that he was just straight up neglected without any regards to missing a parent in his life.

Unpopular opinion: I never realized this was an unpopular opinion but I’m glad he went back to America at the end of Last Game. Obviously, it’s sad that he had to separate from the others, but I felt like Japanese basketball has always been just a stepping point to him, and now that he’d beat the best of them, it was time to move on. And it also warms my heart that him getting scouted in the US gave Aomine hope to aim big, too. I felt like both of them would’ve felt trapped in Japan with their skill sets.

A wish: I want him to be happy and gay and to confront Himuro and tell him how hurt he was by how he treated him and probably do the same to his dad too

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: ....whatever I’d say Shinsun has probably written it/will write it, but I don’t want him to forget about the GoM just because he becomes a world-famous athlete.

5 words to best describe them: sweet child with anger issues

My nickname for them: not mine (it’s Sypha’s) but “Kags”, Kagami, Tigerboy, Kagababe, Baby

Why I like Momoi: she is SO nurturing and sweet and she cares so much about her boys!! I’m sorry it always turns into “how they remind me of myself” but actually I get feeling like a background character and being the moral/emotional/physical support of those who are more talented or in any way better than you. I feel a strange kind of kinship with her and also,,, feminine girls make my heart stop, and it doesn’t get more feminine than Momoi. Added: Aomine aside, the Touou team wouldn’t worth shit without her skills tbh, and she’s not in any way less than the GoM. Also, I appreciate her being the one person to try to keep their friend group together.

Why I don’t: Analytical People Scare me like!! how do u know stuff people are Unknowable!! I usually am also irked by her pointing out Riko’s breast size but I can just pretend that’s in a gay way (maybe Momoi likes girls with small boobs and she’s just bad at flirting) (also I don’t exactly liked her calling Aomine a “ganguro” but I have too little knowledge on the use of this word to say exactly why)

Favorite episode (scene if movie): uh the one where Aomine made her cry? It really came through how much love she actually has for her friends at that one.

Favorite season/movie: she was great in all of them!!

Favorite line: I can’t remember the exact quote and Google isn’t really helpful either but the one where she made Kuroko promise they’ll always play together or something? Or that they’re gonna beat Aomine?? idk?

Favorite outfit: I like all of them but mostly I just appreciate her wearing so many hoodies, she looks so cute in them

OTP / Brotp: it’s both AoMomo. I feel like the have the most special and strongest bond in the entire series.

Head Canon: She’s never been shown to do, but I feel like she wears Aomine’s clothes a Lot. Also, they definitely have sleepovers To This Day.

Unpopular opinion: Momoi is good at basketball and she loves playing!!! But try being successful in it when ur opponents are Giants and Way More Buff than you are

A wish: I wish people appreciated her more!! Both in fandom and in canon. She’s an amazing person and she has her own skills and strengths that are rarely explored or even mentioned anywhere.

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: her falling out with her boys ;-; I do not want that

5 words to best describe them: strawberry sweetheart to steal ur heart

My nickname for them: Satsuki :> I feel like it’s a little too much to call characters on their first names sometimes but hers is so cute I can’t

Why I like Alex: yet again another woman with an extensive skill set. I love her persistence and again I appreciate getting disillusioned and finding your way back to the thing you love. Also it’s just sweet that she did that by teaching (again, something I can relate to)

Why I don’t: the whole “kissing children” thing rubbed me the wrong way but again, just like Momoi’s obsession with comparing breast sizes, it’s just bad/sexist writing from Fujimaki probably

Favorite episode (scene if movie): adshg any and all where she expressed that Himuro and Kagami are equally important to her <33 that shit makes my heart burst

Favorite season/movie: she only appears towards the end of s2 and in s3 so... I guess s3?

Favorite line: its so Bad that u literally can’t find the iconic quotes of these iconic ladies anywhere but... her story on finding her passion again through teaching kids, and anytime she mentions her fondness of Kagami and Himuro.

Favorite outfit: her iconic olive green coat with the short red shorts... wtf was that I loved it.

OTP: she doesn’t really interact with people her age but I’ve heard she’s shipped with Masako Araki and I’ve seen some seriously good fanarts and like... Yes Good I’d Love To See It

Brotp: I feel like her and Himuro would be that sassy pair that Kagami tries and fails to contain and they get into all sorts of weird, absurd situations asdjs what I’m trying to say is Kagami has to bail them out of jail from time to time

Head Canon: fck me if I’m wrong but she’s the lesbian single mom of the two gay kids she reluctantly adopted from the streets

Unpopular opinion: it’s more like another headcanon, but she can dunk and she taught Kagami how to do it.

A wish: I’d love her to coach the Seirin fam more!! Pls let her be part of her children’s lives (she could also judge streetball games between the goms it would be fun)

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: anything about her being romantically involved with her pupils makes me.................no

5 words to best describe them: Beautiful Beach Blonde Basketball....goddess

My nickname for them: Alex!! sometimes An Icon

Why I like Himuro: em dash Asdgsdj I’m joking, I’m becoming more and more fond of the boy. Once I realized that he shouldn’t have been the “bigger person” in that situation and one year doesn’t really mean much when you’re that young and that hurt, I realized he’s actually a good and hard-working kid and I’m sorry for giving him so much shade. Also I really like his snark and sass, but that might not even be canon at this point tbh

Why I don’t: I’m still sort of irked by him beating down on Kagami because he was envious/mad, but I realized the aspect of that situation that Really got to me was how devoted Kagami still was to him after all that. That devotion was what felt toxic, nothing that Himuro actually did to him.

Favorite episode (scene if movie): the time they met up w Kagami just to exchange a dramatic socially distancing bro fist and a few encouraging words.... gays be Like That

Favorite season/movie: I really didn’t mind s3 Himuro

Favorite line: apparently he’s said some iconic stuff that I don’t remember (and my sources don’t seem really legit) but I’m gonna say “let’s see you become number 1, bro” because again, that’s just so ridiculous and endearing. On one hand he really went from loathing Kagami to rooting for him and wanting him to reach his full potential and on the other, honey ur  like 17 stop speaking like That

Favorite outfit: his knitted V-neck sweaters and the black coat with the white fur.... boy’s got all the fashion sense that’s missing from Kagami

OTP: can I say.....AoHimu asdfh I ship 3/4 of these characters with Aomine what does that say about me

Brotp: KagaHimu. They can be sweet, but I’ve only ever seen Jake write them really well

Head Canon: I’ve been entertaining the idea of....trans Himuro.....

Unpopular opinion: everyone thinks that Kagami is the violent kid and Himuro is the chill, sweet child who’s somehow wound up with this mess of a fiery tiger, but it’s actually Himuro who taught Kagami how to fight and Kagami learned quite a lot of aggression from him

A wish: I feel like Himuro should’ve gotten a separate episode to explore his thoughts, feelings and past. He had so much potential as a character Is2g

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: him quitting basketball would fucking destroy me. I’d be devastated for others too, but it would really pull on my heartstrings if he just dropped the only thing he’s been so passionate about.

5 words to best describe them: gender-non-conforming emo child

My nickname for them: Himu, Tatsuya, Tatsu

[autumnblogs]

Day 43: Openbound

We’ll principally be doing Act 6 Intermission 3 today, so expect lots of pictures in this one!

Believe it or not, I initially didn’t like Openbound very much; I felt like it kind of dragged on my first readthrough, and generally had a pretty hard time getting myself to care about the Dancestors. They’re a pretty unsympathetic bunch.

Then again, lots of Homestuck characters are pretty unsympathetic! I’ve been really feeling that in the second half, as retrospect allows me to view a lot of secondary characters through the lens that we’re not intended to get attached to them.

That said, Openbound is actually pretty key to helping us understand the second half of the comic, I think, and makes explicit a lot of the themes that it explores, and how it builds upon the first half.

I think that the theme of Openbound as a self-contained work within Homestuck that we can use as a tool to decode Homestuck can be concisely stated like this; “Nostalgia and a desire for unity with the past causes toxic stagnation.”

So, aside from the introduction that we’ve already gotten to Meenah through the short conversation she had with the other kids, this is our first real opportunity to get to know her! Boy is she obsessed with money.

Money, like Cake, is a symbol that is associated with the Aspect of Life. As an aspect principally associated with Raw Power - the power to do what you want, unfettered by the stringent restrictions that are associated with Doom - it’s natural that Life would be associated with money.

The origin of money in history is pretty nebulous; it precedes the invention of writing, so any theory concerning its invention is ultimately conjecture. What I think is interesting about money is that the move toward a monetary economy in history mostly (but not always) happens as a result of the fact that it is way more efficient to collect taxes; the state mints standard coins, only accepts taxes in the form of standard coins, and propagates them into the economy by buying goods and services from the market.

It’s a tool of government, and even though Meenah may abrogate her inheritance, the Princess can’t escape her birthright. Money offers control, security... and power. What makes all of this extra interesting is that money is effectively worthless in the afterlife. Here, there’s actually nothing for her to really buy or spend it on; anyone can dream up whatever they want with ease.

It’s a nice bit of callback humor that Meenah has the same reaction to discovering the Thorns of Oglogoth that Rose does, but unlike Rose, Meenah actually does destroy them on the spot.

For being so headstrong and dangerous, there are ways in which Meenah is really pretty surprisingly sensible.

Lord English can destroy ghosts - this has always been a pretty disturbing thought for me. I may have said something to this effect before, but if I haven’t I’m a free-thinking Theist - raised in the Church, and largely independent in terms of beliefs, but I’m still pretty convinced that there is some kind of life after death. It doesn’t bother me nearly as much in works that have final death as a general presupposition, but it always bothers me when some kind of eternal life after death exists in a setting, and can be arbitrarily denied by evil beings with some power or another, like how some Demons and Liches can destroy or devour a soul in Dungeons and Dragons.

In Homestuck though, it fits with the themes established by the ways in which everyone God Tiers - spiritual power can be pretty arbitrary, and generally signifies very little about the moral worth of the one who has it; it does not intrinsically elevate the one who has it. It fits with its general criticism of power and the powerful, whether that’s the Mayor’s hatred of Kings, or the associating of corporatism with the worst parts of Jane’s characterization and Crockercorp in general.

Lord English has the power to destroy ghosts and end the lives of immortals not because he has attained to any kind of heightened spiritual awareness. He’s just some douchebag who through cosmic serendipity was in the right place at the right time to become basically all-powerful.

I adore Meenah’s spark. Who gives a fuck if Lord English is invincible? She knows exactly what she’s going to do when she gets her hands on him, and she’s got a plan from the outset. I think it’s also interesting the way that even though Meenah is absolutely taken by the spectacle of power, it isn’t sufficient to make her want to join up with English. Only soft power works on Meenah Peixes; emotional intimacy, friendship... keeping her entertained. All of these are the actual way to moderate her violent and dangerous personality.

While neither Rose nor Meenah is a parallel character to either Gendo or Rei from Neon Genesis Evangelion (I think, actually, that Dirk is the character who most strongly parallels both of them), this bit reminds me of the way that Ritsuko describes both of them;

Rose says of herself and Meenah, “You’re not very good at this, are you? ... talking to people.”

Ritsuko says of Gendo and Rei, “They’re not very adept (at)... living, I suppose.”

The same can really be said of a lot of characters in Homestuck, particularly the ones who primarily find their identity in some form of power-seeking. Whether it’s Rose, or Dirk, or Meenah, or even someone as innocuous as Jake, none of them is particularly adept at living.

Rose is pretty conciliatory with Meenah; given her attraction to danger and darkness, it’s probably not surprising that she makes such an obvious pass at Meenah in spite of the fact that she probably knows what their relationship was in another life.

Further evidence that Rose is the horniest Homestuck character.

“you know how it is with ancestors

they just kind of hold this inexplicable power over you”

Dave continues to progress down the path of not giving a shit, as did Sollux before him.

He’s not quite to the level of reluctance that he eventually adopts, of choosing to just not engage with English at all.

Gods are, to some extent, aware of the various narrative forces that govern their existence.

About the only thing this piece of nasty trash has in common with Karkat is the extent to which they both blabber, and he helps create contrast with the other, somewhat more likable dancestors. Kankri is pretty much openly contemptible, and really in the worst way. I’m almost inclined to call him a concern troll because of the extent to which his verbal essays exist purely to make him feel better about himself. Any time it comes time for him to listen to people who historically actually suffered from the systems they were involved in, Kankri shows his true colors, slut-shaming and misogynistic.

Unsurprisingly, The Other Thief is also the vector for English’s ideology in her session, “turning us against each other to make us stronger.” While Kurloz may be a worshipper of English, and Damara may have thrown in her lot with the demon because of her nihilistic despair, Meenah (rather like Dirk!) is clearly driven toward a life of violence, and restless action for its own sake.

Now we’re starting to get some insight into Feferi’s style of rulership, which in turn, probably gives us some insight into Jane. For Feferi, leadership means taking power away from the people you’re leading if it seems like they have the potential to hurt themselves (or to be a drain on society if left to their own devices). It represents a violation of agency, perhaps not so severe as the kind that Vriska perpetrates usually.

Feferi and Jane are the sort of people, I think, who want to create a perfect world - but it’s important to them that they’re the one who’s creating that world, and less important that the world is perfect for anyone in particular. Just perfect.

https://homestuck.com/story/5288

John’s whole self-conception, and especially his conception of himself as a man, and someone who might be growing up to take on the same roles as his Father, is tied up in the icons of dadliness and masculinity in the movies that he likes.

So we should expect that his disillusionment with his past will change the way that he thinks about his future, and what he’s going to do with it. It’s a shame that this line of questioning never goes anywhere in Homestuck proper, but I’ll use it as evidence in the “John/June Egbert is trans” folder. Reminds me of how my decisive lack of affinity for the Boy Scouts serves as a nice little retrospective bit of evidence in my own trans narrative.

Based on the number of trans Eagle Scouts I know, I feel like there’s a certain extent to which it be like, a fast-track to figuring that out about yourself, like, you tried all the boy stuff and just decided, nope! Not for me.

https://homestuck.com/story/5290

Man, especially if we continue to read this section of Homestuck as conflating the characters and the audience, this whole section reads as John not just having a meltdown about Con Air, but also generally having a meltdown about his own story so far - everything he’s done in Sburb, etc. It just all feels lame and shitty in retrospect, when it was something that was kind of exciting at the time, at least up until the point where his loved ones all dropped dead there at the end.

It turns out that there was nothing particularly edifying about John’s suffering.

https://homestuck.com/story/5300

Teens can be such monsters. It’s the anniversary of Bro’s Death too. Davesprite is probably as broken up about that as John is about Dad, but it’s hard for boys/men to talk about that kind of thing with each other.

Cronus is even more of an incel than Eridan. He may be the most singularly contemptible character in Paradox Space. Do I hate anyone more than Cronus? No, I think I do not.

I won’t have a lot to say about the middle leg of Openbound; it’s relatively empty of substance, and not much that happens in it is ever relevant again compared to the first and second legs.

I like to think that this leg of the journey is, more than anything, a chance to ruminate on some joke characters who were already parodies; parodies of parodies, a joke made at the expense of an existing joke. The kind of thing Dirk Strider would write, basically.

Hey check it out, the Year of Our Lord 2012, and Andrew was starting to show some mild sensitivity in his choice of words. Just mild enough to have the lowest character in the story show a tiny bit of sensitivity himself.

This leg of the adventure does give us some more insight into Meenah’s character. Just like Vriska, she’s all about being a hardass super-murder, until she starts causing problems for the people she actually cares about.

Being Evil Sucks.

This is a really weird sentiment for Karkat to have in light of like, everything else about the latter half of the comic. I mean, he hasn’t exactly had the epiphany yet that the ideas that he has about being a leader are kind of awful and shitty, so it’s possible that he’s talking the Condesce up to avoid thinking about that. IDK.

He also immediately claims he’ll leave behind the meteor to go and join Meenah’s army, so maybe Karkat is just in a pretty low place in general? That tracks.

Karkat’s little conversation with Terezi explains at the two thirds mark of Openbound exactly what this whole thing is about.

Almost the entire second half of the comic is about examining the character’s guardians, and their relationships with them. The Guardians - Grandpa and Bro especially - are hyped up to be these outrageous badasses, both in-and-out of universe, and their ambivalent relationship with their kids creates this ambiguity throughout the comic about whether the kids are worthy, whether they’re living up to their parents’ legacy - and it’s the kind of thing that plagues them throughout.

But the thing is, Ancestors can be lame, or even terrible. They’re not really anything to aspire to, and the image of success that they project onto the world is one of learned confidence, and usually that only if they’ve really managed to make it.

Even the best parents are flawed, and instead of trying to measure up to them, growing up healthy usually means learning what those flaws are, and committing not to reproduce them.

Parents don’t suck; they can be awesome, and generally speaking, for a long part of our life, they’re all we’ve got. It’s hard not to love them. But we shouldn’t turn them into idols.

(On another note, it’s one hundred percent fitting for Terezi’s Ancestor to be an outrageous coolgirl. Terezi is perpetually anxious about being cool enough, the sort of person who is breathlessly fun to be around, who commands the attention of everyone around her, and she’s surrounded by them wherever she goes.)

https://homestuck.com/story/5340

John’s distress leads him to dream about his dead Dad, and boy is he angry. He spends a lot of the second half of the comic seething in rage directed at whomever is responsible for all the suffering he and his friends endure, dishing out beatdowns toward those responsible, but I’ve never gotten the impression that these little outbursts of his are particularly rewarding for him.

https://homestuck.com/story/5358

That was quite a blow. He knocked out like a tenth of Jack’s health bar.

https://homestuck.com/story/5387

Depending on where you’re standing some really totally different things can matter to different people. From Vriska’s point of view, the things that happened back when she was alive totally don’t matter at all anymore - only the matter of Cosmic importance that is fighting Lord English.

But the stuff that matters to the people she left behind, and the suffering she’s responsible for - especially for putting Terezi in a position where she had to slay her - all of that still matters very much to the people who are alive, which is what makes her self-conception as someone who is on the side of the angels now really... not sit well.

She clearly hasn’t changed all that much. She just thinks, as usual, that now that things are even, now that the score is settled, things can go back to the way they were before.

https://homestuck.com/story/5388

Tavros and Vriska are really bad for each other in general. Like, it’s not good for her to be around someone as pliable as Tavros is, and it’s plain to everybody that it’s not good for him to be around her either; whenever he’s around her, he apes her bogus inflated self-esteem in all the worst ways.

https://homestuck.com/story/5397

Tavros’ explanation of what Vriska does suggests that storytelling has become kind of a ritual for her - a means by which she is attempting to connect with her Ancestor, by performing the same actions she is, miming her - still the same old Vriska.

That’ll be all for now. Cam signing off for now - join me for the thrilling conclusion to Openbound tomorrow, Same Cam Time, Same Cam Channel.

[ellaofoakhill]

My Thoughts on Boxes

Something has kinda been bugging me the last little while, that I like to think a lot of people can relate to. We live in a society that, generally speaking, likes putting things into boxes; we like analyzing and sorting and organizing. And there’s nothing really wrong with that in and of itself--frankly, I could stand to do a lot more of it in the more practical aspects of my life--but such a system only really works with things that easily fit into discreet categories, and the things that aren’t or can’t be easily sorted are either forced into a box where they don’t fit, or left adrift without any real place to be.

In particular, I’m talking about fiction. You have numerous genres that multiply by the day, and the age categories that stories within those genres are deemed suitable for. And don’t get me wrong, there are lots of practical reasons for those categories; they make advertising and the organization of bookstores and libraries dramatically easier, and for most stories, this system works great, with each finding the audience most likely to derive benefit from reading it.

But--again, solely my opinion here--this may have produced stories that are a lot flatter than stories written in previous eras (which had their own problems, I will NOT get into that today). By flat, I don’t mean boring, or a failure of the story. I mean that the story feels like it was changed to fit into the category it most closely matched. In the most egregious examples, I feel like things were either added to a story that did nothing for it besides make it fit its box better, or taken out that were either integral to the story or added a depth and breadth to it that improved the work overall, even if that made it harder to sort.

This makes me think of the Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch quote, “Murder your darlings”, but completely opposite to what he was getting at. The general interpretation is “Even if you like a given piece of writing/painting/sculpture/etc., if it does more bad than good for your work, you need to remove it for the sake of the art.” What I feel is happening is “You need to change your story so it fits the target demographic, no matter what it looks like at the end.” The former serves the story and its spirit; the latter sacrifices the story for... I don’t know, ease of advertising, perhaps? Certainly financial gain is involved there.

So my first argument against this jaded, greedy way of thinking runs thus. Look at the stories that are now considered classics of Western literature: look at Wuthering Heights and Pride and Prejudice; look at White Fang and Call of the Wild; look at Dracula and Frankenstein; look at The Lord of the Rings and The Chronicles of Narnia (no, I couldn’t resist throwing in two classic fantasy titles, and no, I won’t apologize for it). If you haven’t read these stories, you probably should. Yes, they have problems that mark them as products of their time, but every last one of them has one thing in common: none of them were written with a box in mind. We’ve thought of lotr as a fantasy staple for so long that we’ve forgotten that, prior to its popularity, fantasy as a genre wasn’t really a thing. There were fairy-tales, yes, and stories with fantastical elements, but a genre of story with precise conventions? Not really.

Let’s zoom in on Tolkien’s work, for a moment. Look at his world and its origins, and it draws heavy inspiration from Old English and Scandinavian myths and legends. Look at his characters, in particular his four hobbits, and he drew from his love of the English countryside, his respect for the common working man (Sam, the gardener, literally carries Frodo, the wellbred young gentleman, on his shoulders in the final leg of their gruelling journey to the Cracks of Doom), and his horrific experiences in the First World War. Hilariously enough, a big part of the reason he wrote the stories was as a self-justification for his indulgence in and lifelong love affair with language invention (look at the huge appendices at the back of The Return of the King and tell me I’m lying!). Read his work and any and all interviews with him, and a “genre box” seems clearly to have never crossed his mind.

Putting aside the genre box for a moment, let’s talk age categories. The Hobbit was a story he invented for his children, and it does show. Look at the Lord of the Rings, and it is clearly at a higher level of reading comprehension, and written for a more mature audience; there’s less silliness, though he keeps the wonder at this wild, magical world. But where to put it? The hobbits run a spectrum from basically teenagers (Pippin) to almost middle age (Frodo is in his fifties when he embarks on his journey to Rivendell), yet they’re clearly his protagonists, though we also see some narration revolving around Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli, all of whom are adults, though the latter two are somewhat younger for their respective races, whereas Aragorn is in his eighties (this being offset somewhat by the fact that he lives to over two hundred, but I digress...). We’re told today (falsely; VERY falsely) that the main character(s) should match the age of their target audience. Where does lotr fit, then, in terms of age category?

The answer you’re looking for is: not really very well anywhere; at least, not according to modern convention. As for my personal experience, I could and did read both The Lord of the Rings and The Silmarillion at age thirteen. I consider myself a fairly intelligent young man, but I was varying degrees of lost when I read those. When I re-read them as an adult I was fine, but that isn’t to imply that teens shouldn’t be reading lotr, far from it. There’s nothing in them content-wise one wouldn’t reasonably expect a teenager to handle, and there’s a lot of good, powerful story and commentary in there that’s relevant to this day.

My point is, the age category doesn’t really matter. If I may shamelessly plug my own work for a moment, when I was first writing tftem, and even as I’m editing and publishing it now, I wondered and still wonder about this age category business. There is nothing in these stories I’d consider inappropriate for kids, and anyone above the age of about 8, with perhaps a slight stretch to their vocabulary, could comfortably read every story beginning to end. Further complicating matters, my beta readers ranged from 8 to almost 80, and most of the spectrum in between. They all liked it; whether they liked it for the same reasons is moot.

Which leads me into my second argument against boxing and categorizing stories. The boxes aren’t very reliable. If I may change media for a moment, cultural convention says, as an adult, there is only a narrow sleazy strip of cartoon entertainment I should be watching and enjoying. That tiny slice of the cartoon pie is the only slice I avoid like the plague. Yes, there are stories that don’t appeal to me because they’re too simplistic, or are problematic in ways that I find repellent, or just aren’t executed very well, but aside from things aimed at toddlers and the aforementioned “adult” cartoons, any cartoon is fair game. Give me an interesting concept, or a fascinating character, or hell just give me a good laugh or line of dialogue or beautiful fight scene, and I’ll give it a try.

My point is (yes I had one, and no, believe it or not I didn’t forget it), don’t write or draw or create with a box in mind. You will murder the spirit of your darlings. The box does not exist to define what you, the writer, are allowed to do, or what you should do. At best, the box exists in hindsight, once the work is done, to tell your prospective audience whether your story was written for them. And even then, lots of fantastic stories don’t sit well in boxes. Some of them actively rip the boxes to pieces. Lotr is a story that transcends boxes, and as a result has many layers and rabbit-holes and nuances that you can pick up when you’re ready to appreciate them, however old you are. In many ways, it’s ageless.

I didn’t write tftem to emulate Tolkien, nor even as an homage to him, or C.S. Lewis, or anyone else. But I did want to write a similarly ageless story, a story that could be read and appreciated a hundred years from now, by an audience of eight-year-olds or octogenarians. Why did we ever start moving away from stories like this? They were the foundation of stories for as long as stories have existed on Earth. People are still reading and marvelling at The Epic of Bloody Gilgamesh!

Tl;dr: don’t try to force your stories into boxes; they suffocate. Write what you enjoy writing; chances are it’ll live longer.

[swordmaid]

Hi! I really value your insight into Brienne, and I would love to pick your thoughts. So I noticed that in response to the parts of the fandom that downplays Brienne gentle, romantic side, Brienne fans have really been emphasising that part of her. However, I feel that it almost gone too far in the other direction, and now there is this attitude that Brienne would have chosen the life of a traditional lady with few, if any, regrets, if she had been beautiful. Here is where I struggle.

Brienne has been alienated from the role of lady due to her looks and size, but her decision to become a knight would have faced no more positive reinforcement. If anything, she would have faced more hostility. Westeros is a patriarchal, militant culture where strength is inherently linked to martial power. In becoming a knight, Brienne challenged masculine power, inciting not just ridicule, but disgust and revulsion, and violence born of anger. Therefore, the school of thought that

Brienne only became a knight because she felt she couldn't be a lady doesn't work because she would have been made to feel equally unfit to be a knight due to her gender. That she fought against these views to be a knight shows she feels a clear affinity for the role. Her match with Wagstaff, where she overcame her shyness to fight for her right to continue baring arms, speaks of that true desire.

So becoming a knight as a consolation prize does not fit Brienne's character, or Westeros as we know it. She truly wants both. Family and romance and music, but also to bear arms and fight for justice. As she feels that in becoming a knight she has lost the chance to be a lady, her sadness over that is more poignant, but her desire to be a knight is evident in her actually living that life, despite the roadblocks in her way. Sorry for the ramble! Would love to hear your thoughts. :)

OH thank you so much for sending! I love any chance where I can talk about Brienne lol. Brienne IS about the duality of being both the knight and the lady first and foremost. Even with imagery behind her: the pink and the blue, sun and the moon--hell, even with the castles in Tarth--Evenfall and Morne--it’s all about  duality co-existing in one space. That is the epitome of Brienne’s character communicated through imagery. She is both the lady and the knight and I believe her personal story is about achieving that imagery because so far she jumps on one side of the spectrum and never anywhere near the middle. 

Rest under the cut because it gets a bit long!

Though I believe that she chose to be a knight because she thought her body would be more fitting for it, there is this quote in her AFFC chapter: ‘[...] but a rose was no good, a rose could not keep her safe. It was a sword she wanted. Oathkeeper’ that I always found rather interesting and if anything, indicates WHY she chose to pursue to leave behind the life of being a lady and pursue being a knight. Brienne is powerless as a lady. She’s already deemed a failure from the start: she’s too big, too ugly, too clumsy, she stumbles over her words, she’s graceless, etc. etc. Society had already deemed her a failure because she fails to live up to the expectation of what a highborn female should look like, and she’s deemed a failure even more when she can’t perform like one. Her encounter with Ronnet and his rose is basically society indicating what happens if she tries to perform that role: after she gets judged for her appearance and mannerisms, she WILL get mocked and humiliated because they already decided from the start that she doesn’t fit that role. And I think Brienne realized that if she can’t be the lady then she’ll be the knight in the songs instead. Hence her training with Goodwin and her using her body for what it’s good for. So the next time around when Wagstaff came along and tried to humiliate her the way Ronnet did, she had something to defend herself with instead of just standing there and accepting their mockery.

I think that’s the biggest point as well, and that’s the difference between her choosing to be the knight than the lady. Because when she’s a knight---even if she gets mocked or ridiculed, she is able to defend and protect herself. The playing field evens out a little bit. When her maidenhood gets turned into a bet, she beats up all those men who played a part in it in the melee. She can defend for herself when she gets thrown into a bear pit, she can defend for herself when she meets the man who captured her before and threatened her with rape. When she was still a lady, she could do none of that; only stand there and accept the humiliation they were giving her.

And it’s just as you said: she’s not FIT to be a knight too, in a sense. Even if she’s a knight, she essentially longs for her home and wonders what her life would be like if she didn’t run off to Renly’s campaign. Even if she’s out there acting as a knight, she’s still very much the lady. Not to mention that her prowess, how she serves, the oaths she takes, etc. they don’t matter because Society still sees her as a woman. Jaime--one the best swordsman in the Seven Kingdom-- hails her as good when he was fighting her but Society doesn’t acknowledge that because her is what they see first. Even when she was in Renly’s campaign she had to WIN her chance of being a part of Renly’s campaign even though she proved that she was better than the knights there. Brienne as a knight has to constantly prove her worth to everyone she meets because her gender is an ever present shroud that clouds the judgement of others, which I find a really interesting contrast to Brienne being the lady who is INSTANTLY judged worthless because her appearance becomes said shroud. She’s not one or the other because Society tells her she doesn’t fit in those roles: She’s too freakish to be a lady, too woman to be a knight. And right now, Brienne is leaning on the ‘knight’ side of the spectrum but she essentially belongs in the middle and I think her personal story is about finding that balance.

Which is why I really like her with Jaime and why my favorite scenes with them is the Bear Pit and the White Tower in ASOS. I like the Bear Pit because it’s essentially boiled down fairy tale trope: lady is being attacked by a monster and the knight comes in to save her but it’s.....twisted and made crude and wrong. Brienne essentially becomes the lady in the songs except it’s made to be a mockery. She gets fitted into an ugly pink dress that doesn’t fit her---mildly unrelated but DON’T get me started on the way george ACTUALLY dressed them to fit the part. Brienne in a dress and Jaime in armor---which is SO significant because before Brienne had always been taking the role of the protector---essentially the knight-- to Jaime especially when they were captured by the Brotherhood. In those parts, Jaime was the lady that was distressed while Brienne was the knight who aids her. Jaime acknowledges her to be his protector, and it is shown in his Weirwood dream where he’s left alone in his doom with no one else but Brienne protecting him. But in the Bear Pit, the roles essentially gets switched--Brienne is the lady, Jaime is the knight who comes to save her but the fairy tale is all so WRONG and it’s so good lol. Jaime tries to defend her but Brienne is still defending him and in the end, they got saved by Steelshanks and his crossbow. On the opposite end with the White Tower Scene, here’s where they actually being the lady and the knight. Unlike the Bear Pit, it’s not made out to be crude or the mockery. It’s a knight and a lady, a sword and a quest. What’s interesting though is that the knight isn’t actively saving the lady, rather, giving her the tool so she’s able to save herself (and she DOES refer to Oathkeeper as sort of her safety blanket. The sword being the very thing that can protect her however it’s meaning gets twisted by the end of feast but I’ll talk about that in a different post because it’s not relevant lol) Jaime is not forcing her to be one or the other; he gives her the dress so she’s able to perform the part of being a lady without the ridicule she usually gets and he gives her the sword and the quest because she is that knight as well. Jaime acknowledges both sides of her and never makes her choose one or the other-- which is so important to her character because she’s always been forced to fill a role and when she does, it doesn’t fit her as well as she would’ve liked. 🥺🥺🥺

And as for the emphasis of Brienne’s more feminine side, I think that’s too contrast the all too familiar characterization of Brienne being just a knight/or just Sansa’s sworn sword. I do believe that if Brienne were--say, beautiful or someone that looks average (less freakish), I don’t think she would’ve pursued the life of a knight because the only reason she did is that she was able to defend herself. Her physique and size is more suited for battle and so she used it accordingly, and she turned out to be really good at it. But even with her prowess, she still has the desires to become a lady though she’s been pushing it away. There’s this part--I forgot which chapter it came from--but a scene where Brienne psyches herself up to ask these people and she mentions something along the lines of, ‘if she was too scared to talk to these people she might as well trade her sword for her knitting needles’. I think that indicates how much she TRIES to fit herself into this role of a knight, and tries to convince herself that the life of being a lady is unattainable because of how much she’s been judged and deemed as a failure by Society. 

I think it’s not really the fact that she wants to be a knight, rather, she wants to live a life where she’s able to defend herself and her own worth. She’s able to do that when she’s a knight but she doesn’t fit in that role exactly. Her ideals of what a true knight should be is very black and white, very based on the songs that she so wants to be a part of. I think her plot with Stoneheart and the reason WHY she’s the one who found out about Jaime’s kingslaying is meant to challenge those ideals but rather than turn her away from the role of the knight, it would allow her to actually understand what being a knight is thus letting her to fit herself on that role more fully because she actually understands what she’s signing up for. And with the presence of Jaime for their recent chapters, I hope the side of Brienne the lady gets explored and fleshed out too because currently it’s being repressed.

[toloveawarlord]

Ch. 2

Characters: Elaine, Arthur x Theo, Vincent

Pairing: Elaine x Isaac (eventually)

Tagging: @plumpblueberry​ @lady-moonbroch​

A/N: This chapter turned out nothing like the first draft XD Enjoy some Elaine spending time with her Uncle and she meets a boy!

Four days into her new job as Theo’s assistant, the mood in their home had drastically lifted. Elaine never complained and paid close attention to every task given to her, exceeding all expectations. She quoted things he’d said to her years ago and questioned smartly, craving the knowledge he had. Having her along had proved quite useful with prickly clients, smoothing over situations with a charming smile and sweet words, likely emulating Arthur. 

Theo enjoyed having time with her. In recent years, they’d grown strained. The teenager wanted more freedom and broke rules in place to protect her because she believed them unnecessary. Now, at nearly eighteen in only two days, she’d fought harder. Being able to keep an eye on her put the art dealer at little more at ease.

His daughter sat across from him, glancing at him out of the corner of her vision. Elaine hadn’t taken the news that she couldn’t accompany him today well. Instead of anger, she’d pouted silently all morning.

“I take it that you aren’t happy with today’s agenda,” Arthur piped up with an amused grin not quite hidden by his cup of steaming coffee. The previous night Theo had informed him of the impending unhappy teenager.

Elaine stuffed the fork full of pancakes into her mouth, enough to make her cheeks puff out to match her frown. She’d gotten up extra early and made pancakes and extra sweet coffee, but the answer remained unchanged. Now, she wanted to drown her sorrows in syrup and butter until she got sick.

“Vincent has asked for you to help him today while I’m gone.” Theo could easily see the motive behind his brother’s sudden request. He’d promised to make her do some work instead of spoiling her the entire day.

The teenager flinched at those words. She couldn’t very well turn down her uncle, as she adored him so much. Help isn’t the word she’d choose to describe what the day would entail. He’d likely ask her to do a small task or two, nothing that required much effort. “Fine. I guess I can do that.”

Working didn’t bother her. She assisted around the house with the chores without complaint. If Comte asked, she would readily agree. It irritated her that this client wouldn’t allow her entrance to his home, prompting this sour mood. No promises of being quiet or staying outside had swayed Theo. He couldn’t risk spooking the man.

“If you find yourself in need of something to do, I can have you proofread for me.” Her grimace only made the mystery writer chuckle again. Her disdain for that job well-known. Though she enjoyed his stories, playing editor didn’t appeal to her. A tedious thing.

Theo cracked a grin, rising from the table. “You better thank Vincent for saving you from that.” One check of his watch ended the conversation. He bid his family farewell before heading into town alone.

“Are you sure you don’t want to help your Papa with his work?” Arthur teased further. He had been a tad jealous that she eagerly wanted to assist Theo over the course of the week. Ah, but he was also grateful that the two were more understanding of each other.

Elaine stacked all the empty plates to carry them to the kitchen. “I love you but no.” Her curt reply still amusing. Setting the dishes in the sink, she licked the sticky syrup off her fingers.

“Off you go then. I’ll take care of the cleanup.”

The young vampire didn’t need to be told twice. Housework didn’t appeal to her either. She did her part, pitching in when needed, but if told she didn’t have to do it... the teenager bailed as quickly as she could.

Inside the mansion, the hallways were quiet and empty.  At this hour, everyone should be awake, except for Leonardo perhaps. Rapping her fist against Vincent’s door, she cast confused glances down the hallway.

“Goede morgen, Elaine,” Vincent greeted with a bright smile. He laughed softly at her confusion. Since Arthur and Theo had moved out of the mansion with her when she was only 4 years old, daily happenings didn’t reach their house as quickly as it spread through the mansion. “We’re the only ones here today.”

“I’m okay with that.” She flashed a disheartened smile, unable to shake the dark cloud hanging over her. Her normally mischievous and lively attitude disappeared. The others might have tried to make her understand. She understood perfectly fine.

That didn’t make it less saddening.

“Come here.” He’d barely open his arms and invited his niece to find comfort with him when the teenager stepped forward and accepted the warm hug. Vincent stroked his fingers through her copper hair. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but she reminded him so much of Theo when he was a child. “You know, he couldn’t stop talking about how wonderful you were on the job.”

“Really?”

It wasn’t that he hadn’t said so to her. Theo would give praise often, especially when she came up with new ideas. Telling the others about it, that was rarer.

Vincent hummed in response, a gentle smile on his lips as she peeked up at him. “I’d say he was outright bragging. I’m not surprised. You’re his daughter after all.” Placing a kiss on the top of her head, he laughed softly at her uplifted mood.

Elaine lingered a little longer before releasing him, soaking up his sunshine-like warmth. “I guess I could stop pouting about it.” Relenting her sad feelings, she sighed softly before questioning. “So, what was it you wanted my help with?”

“I finished the final painting and I thought I’d ask for your expert advice on where to put it in the gallery space. That is, if you want to.” His request was well-received with a glowing smile from his niece. Theo had mentioned that he’d given her the sole responsibility of choosing how to use the space to best showcase the art. The uncle looked forward to seeing what she’d done.

***********

The paintings on the wall were shrouded in black cloth, to hide the precious items from view until the day of the showing. Only a select few knew what was beneath, ones trusted by Theo to make this a success. Elaine had been gifted one of the only keys to venue, a testament to her importance.

“I believe I’m looking forward to this event more than any other,” Vincent commented, allowing the staff to hang the framed piece in its designated spot.

The heat in her cheeks caused the teenager to turn her gaze anywhere else. “It’s not much different from how Vader does it. I’ve been to more of these than any other event in the city.” The location changed but ever since she learned to walk, she’d been toddling around, observing, and learning how it works. Before she’d even realized, she’d begun understanding color theory and composition.

“It wasn’t too long ago that you were only a few years old and correcting patrons on the medium or style of the art. You always had this incredibly serious expression, much like Theo.”

“That was so long ago! I’m almost eighteen!”

Vincent chuckled with a loving smile. “Yes, I guess that’s right.”

The chime of the door timed perfectly with one of the staff calling to speak with Vincent. Elaine stepped away to investigate the newcomer. Violet eyes narrowed at the sight of a boy, likely no older than herself, attempting to take a peek at the portrait veiled by the black cloth. “Excuse me, but you can’t be in here.” Her tone less than polite, Elaine thrust her palms against his chest to push him away from the art piece.

“Oh, my apologies. I’ve been most curious about why there are staff entering but it’s never been open for business.” His emerald eyes filled with hidden intent that didn’t quite match the half smirk on his lips. The boy never resisted her pushing him back to the door and onto the street. “A secretive operation, I presume, miss?”

“Elaine and we don’t open for another two days.”

Her biggest fear was that he was a spy for le academia and all of her father’s hard work would go to waste if they were discovered. He didn’t fit the typical appearance of a high bred family, usually scrawny and uptight, and he wasn’t either of those things.

“I’ll have to pop in when you are open. My name is Leon Autry.” He flashed another brilliantly smug smile and winked. “Might I inquire your surname, should I have any future questions?” The reason lost on the recipient. He’d yet to ask anything relevant to the gallery.

Elaine turned on her heel to return inside. “It’s Doyle.” Even though she didn’t quite like the boy, she couldn’t risk turning away a potential buyer. Her cheeks were warm, and it wasn’t clear if it was from embarrassment or anger. The young pureblood didn’t have many friends her age, and that led to a bit of awkwardness when around humans her age.

“Ah, like the writer.”

The girl stilled, hand hovering above the door handle. Perhaps she’d heard him incorrectly.

“You might not know of him. He’s a British writer, mystery, I think.”

Or perhaps not.

“I believe it’s Arthur Conan Doyle. Any relation?” Leon asked as if he already knew the answer, like playing a game of truth or dare in order reveal a secret for confirmation.

Elaine relaxed her shoulders. Although she could hardly admit that she was indeed was the daughter of that very Arthur, albeit the vampire one, she wouldn’t allow him to glean that precious information from her. “No, but you aren’t the first to ask. But wouldn’t that be grand? Imagine being related to someone as talented as that.” Her dreamy smile fowled his for a moment.

“Imagine.” The façade of his grin had ghosted away for a split second, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Elaine, are you ready to head back?” A third party interrupted, much welcomed by the girl. Vincent approached the two, protectively a half step in front of his niece. The tension between the two children enough to worry him.

Her head bobbed once in response. “Yes, let’s go home.” The way Leon’s eyes followed her unsettled the girl. Elaine settled back on the seat in the carriage, mulling over the strange interaction. Was it so unusual for someone to draw a connection between her name and the human Arthur from this era?

Whatever the case, she now had a proper mystery on her hands.

[reveriesofawriter]

alright here we go: 4, 13, 16 (i may be baiting you slightly. or indulging depending how you take this), 30, 32 i love you very much xoxo bella

4. Link your three favorite fics right now.

you expect me to remember the titles of fics? (answering all the questions under a break bc I don’t know how to be concise)

not to be a copycat but daydream fic oh my god you know those songs that have such a specific and deliberate vibe that feel unbroachable because there’s no way to write something that fits it perfectly and it deserves nothing less than perfect? a daydream away is one of those songs and the tone of the song got stretched out to full story length like a warm quilt that just kept growing to the perfect size it’s so good

can I link a whole series? I think about sam’s bach au so much it lives in my head, I know so little about the actual bachelor universe but especially now that she’s kinda living her own fic it brings me so much joy and was also the first thing of sam’s I ever read I think, also it’s really funny how she accidentally wrote two jalexes without thinking about it

this fic that I never remember the name of but I think of as the dodie fic even tho peyton has written more than one fic with a dodie title, I read it before I knew peyton, back when they were one of bella’s anons, and I remember being so impressed and wondering why they didn’t want anyone to know who they were bc it was just so good and it’s so creative in the way it incorporates books into the story

13. Do you outline your fics? How much of a headache would someone get if they just looked at an outline of yours without reading the fic?

if they’re complete ideas that are longer than I think I can write in a day or two yes I will outline them, if they’re not complete ideas I’ll jot down a summary of the idea at the top of a doc and use it as a reference but those are usually not very helpful and rarely end up going anywhere. my current wip has a separate 8k outline doc that is pretty comprehensive, I think it would lead to a satisfying conclusion even without reading the story itself, tho the story is shaping up quite nicely I’m excited about it

16. Do you research for your fics? If so, how deep of a rabbit hole have you gone down by accident when researching?

I am interpreting this as bait thank you bella. is it still a rabbit hole if it’s productive and leads to plot breakthroughs? I currently have 3 tabs open on music, 2 on 90s tech, and 5 on lgbt movements/history :)) this wasn’t a result of a rabbit hole adventure but this https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Patch_(bar) is one of the best fun facts I know that is slightly relevant to the research I’m doing

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words.

no context but I am so proud of these two paragraphs

In the distance, at the edge of the yard where the dying lawn gave way to the wooden fence, fireflies floated up and down against the darkness. It had taken one mistake as a kid for Alex to learn that jars of fireflies need holes in the lid to keep them alive. He and Jack had spent hours catching them on summer nights like this when they were younger. Whoever caught the most before Jack had to go home was the winner and got to decide whether they kept the bugs in their jars or released them. Funnily enough, Alex had always been the one to want to let them go back then. Jack would hold tight to his jar until Alex told him he had to follow the rules and then they’d let them go all at once, watching the light show as the fireflies thanked their lucky stars that Jack had lost. When Jack won, Alex would keep his jar on his bedside table, watching the lights flicker and dance until his eyes drifted shut.

Alex thought from that to once when he was even younger, before he moved to this neighborhood, his grandma had told him to stay very still with the lightning bugs because if one of them landed on you, it would give you good luck. Alex could never quite stay still enough, but the luck must have found him anyway.

32. Copy and paste your top three favorite lines/jokes/sentences you’ve ever written. What fics do they come from?

this is hard because some of my favorite things I’ve written are just quippy exchanges and it’s hard to copy and paste full conversations here. this one from my jalex/malum one, idk why I like it so much it just feels natural but then I love most of their back and forth in this, they’re so easy to write and so fun

“Ah, yes, us. The experts on how to date your friends.”

“That’s us.” Jack wraps his arms around Alex’s waist and looks up at him. “We should get business cards made.”

can I say the entirety of starlight fic? my favorite part of it is the structure more than any one line but this just feels so 🥺

What he really wants is to pull Alex to the upper deck with a couple glasses of champagne and face the cool air head-on, to say yes he’s tired of pretending but it has nothing to do with all those other people and more to do with how easy it was to fall into a lie in front of them, and one lie in particular.

what if I threw one of sam’s lines in here from all too well fic? no one would know except her 👀

Jack can’t remember what he was talking about but he remembers Alex kissing the back of his hand, remembers looking over at Alex for half a second too long and hitting the brake a little too hard so he didn’t drive straight through a red light, remembers his heart pounding from a mix of his own bad driving and Alex’s guilty smile, still holding Jack’s hand, tighter than ever.

[bbq-hawks-wings]

I want to express an unpopular opinion. I hope for your understanding, because such things don't like to listen. Why does everyone think that Hawks is a bird? I couldn' fit my logical arguments into the askbox :( (about how he sits on a pole "like a bird", supposedly likes jewelry and so on). Even his quirk is called Fierce Wings, not a Hawk, not a Red Bird. Do you remember the names of the quirks of Hound Dog and Tsuyu-chan? We haven't evidence to believe that Hawks is behaves like a bird.

I do believe very much he’s a bird, and if you would let me friend, I would love to try and prove it to you because I think the evidence is overwhelming. I’ll make a TL;DR at the end but I’d really like to take the opportunity to perhaps teach others at least one method for literary analysis since it can be a really dry and boring subject to learn in school but is SO useful not only for getting good grades but getting into colleges as well as interpreting both entertainment and genuinely important information like the news, history, laws, and scientific papers. Using fiction - especially such a rich, engaging one like HeroAca - is a great way to try it out without the pressure of a grade. I don’t have the qualifications to teach in any formal capacity, but as a “peer” tutor I hope I can be helpful.

I’m going to put everything under the cut from here because this is going to get LONG, but I promise the TL;DR at the end will be very easy to read. If you liked this sort of unofficial tutorial please let me know. I’d love to help make “academic” skills like this more accessible for those who might benefit from it and enjoy it, but it doesn’t make sense to put in all that effort moving forward if I’m garbage at it.

Before we get too into things, I want to lay out a few notes to keep in mind as we go.

I will only be using the official translations from Viz’s Shonen Jump website when available. Fan translations are more than close enough to casually enjoy and follow the story, but professional translators are paid to know and get various nuances correct and some of the trickier cultural background behind certain phrases (for example, the phrase “where the rubber meets the road” might make zero sense in a foreign language if translated literally, so an equal cultural phrase should be used instead) that give more exact information. Rarely is this too important, but sometimes it helps, plus it supports the source material.

If you’ve followed my blog for a while you might know I’m very fond of doing this kind of thing in my spare time and that I’m a huge fan of YouTube channels like Game/Film Theory, Overly Sarcastic Productions, Extra Credits, and Wisecrack that do this kind of thing with popular media as well. If you like this sort of content, may I encourage you to check them out after this to see how else you can apply these kinds of analytical skills to things that aren’t homework.

My writing style tends to meander, but I do my best to cut out the fat and only include relevant information so even though there’s a lot of information here, please know that I’m trying to be thorough and explain things to the best of my ability. If I seem to go off on a tangent, I’m trying to set up or contextualize information to explain why it’s relevant and then come back to the point. In other words, please be patient and bear with me as I go.

Now, to start, I want to explain at least my method for analyzing a text/piece of media. There is a set order and number of steps to take, and it’s as follows:

Read the material all the way through.

Come up with a hypothesis about something you’ve noticed when reading it. (In this case, it’s “Is Hawks actually supposed to be a bird?”)

Collect as much relevant information as possible and test the evidence to see if it supports the hypothesis we’ve made.

Step back and look at everything again with those points in mind.

Determine if we were right or wrong with the evidence we have.

If we were wrong, go back to step 3 to figure out what fell apart and see if we need to go back to step 2.

If that sequence sounds familiar it’s because it’s the scientific method! Aha, didn’t think we’d be pulling science into all this, did you? Don’t worry, we won’t be putting numbers or formulas anywhere near this discussion - the scientific method is just a way we can observe something and test if what we thought about it is actually true; and it applies to almost everything we as humans can observe - from the laws of the universe, to arts and crafts, to philosophy and religion, and so on! When you think about it that way, whole new possibilities can open up for you when it comes to understanding how the world works.

So with that set let’s (finally) begin!

Steps 1 and 2 are already done. We’ve read the manga and want to prove that Hawks is a bird. (We’re going to try and prove he IS a bird because in the context of the series there’s a lot that *isn’t* a bird and less stuff that *is* which will make our job easier.) So now, we’re onto: 

Step 3 - collect data and see what conclusions we can get just from our evidence.

Now, to pause again (I know, bear with me!) there’s a few different kinds of information and considerations we have to keep in mind as we collect. There are four kinds of information that are important to know about in order to determine if it’s good data that will help us with the testing phase in Step 4. The kinds of information to keep in mind are:

Explicit information - this is information that is directly spelled out for us. For example, Hawks says, “I like my coffee sweet.” and his character sheet says “Hawk’s favorite food is chicken.” That’s all there is to it, and it’s pretty hard to argue with. This is the easiest type of info to find.

Implicit information - this is info that isn’t directly spelled out but is noticeable either in the background or as actions, patterns, or behaviors that can be observed. For example, Hawks has mentioned in at least three very different places his concerns over people getting hurt while he tries to get in with the League:

Chapter 191 when confronting Dabi about the Nomu he says, “You said you’d release it in the factory on the coast, not in the middle of the damn city!”

Chapter 191 again in a flashback with the Hero Commission he asks, “What about the people who might be hurt while I’m infiltrating the League?”

Chapter 240 when discovering how much influence and power the League has gained, “If someone had taken down the League sooner, all those good citizens wouldn’t have had to die!”

Hawks never says in so many words, “I never want innocent people to get hurt under any circumstances!” but the pattern of behavior and concern is consistent enough to form a pattern and clue us in that this is a key part of his character to keep in mind.

Peripheral information - this is information that isn’t directly to do with Hawks or maybe even the series as a whole but is still relevant to keep in mind for his character and the questions we’re asking. This may include extra content that isn’t the “series” proper, but is still an official source like interviews with Horikoshi, etc. but it can go even further. For example, while we try to prove that he’s a bird, we should have some knowledge about what makes a bird a bird, some specific and notable birdlike habits/behaviors/features, etc. This is just to show how wide-ranging we need to cast our informational net.

Contextual information - this will be important when we get to Step 4, but it’s good to keep in mind now. This is when we compare evidence against the broader scope of the series and consider the circumstances under which we find the information. For example, if I told you, “Harry kicked a dog.” you might think “What a jerk! What decent person kicks a dog?”; but if I said, “Harry kicked a dog while trying to keep it from biting his kid.” suddenly it re-frames the story. “Is the kid ok? Why was that dog attacking? Harry put himself in danger to keep his kid safe - what a great dad!”

I’ll go chronologically to make it easier to follow my evidence as I gather and give references as to where I found that information. I’ll go through the manga first, and then any peripheral sources that are either direct informational companions to the series (like character books or bonus character information sheets) and interviews with Horikoshi. Please note the categories these details fall into may vary based on opinion/interpretation, but I did my best to list them out for reference.

Chapter 185 - Explicit Type: Feathered wings - regardless of the specifics of his quirk it’s undeniable his wings are made up of feathers which is a distinctly birdlike quality. There are many mythical creatures and even dinosaurs that also have feathered wings, but this is our first big piece of evidence.

Chapter 186 - Peripheral Type: Large appetite - birds have an incredibly fast metabolism because flying takes so much energy. They’re constantly eating. Plenty of young men are big eaters, but it was specifically pointed out and works towards our hypothesis so we’ll keep it in our back pocket for now.

Chapter 186 - Implicit/Peripheral Type: Fantastic vision - Hawks senses the Nomu coming before the audience even is able to make out what’s headed their way. It could be implied his wings caught it first, which might be the case, but he looks directly at the Nomu and brings Endeavor’s attention to it. Birds have fantastic long-range vision, especially birds of prey that mainly swoop in from high in the air to ambush highly perceptive prey. Also good to add to the pile.

Chapter 192 + Volume 20 Cover - Implicit/Peripheral type: Wears jewelry and bright colors - birds are well documented to be drawn to bright colors and are known for decorating their nests with trinkets. Scientists actually have to be careful when tagging birds with tracking bracelets because they can accidentally make him VASTLY more popular with the ladies by giving him a brightly colored band to the point they can’t resist him! Male birds are also known for having bright, colorful displays for attracting and wooing mates. While Hawks isn’t the only male character to wear jewelry in the series, he’s the only one (to my recollection) that wears as MUCH jewelry so often both during and outside of work. It may not be obvious, but the illustration on Volume 20 is actually an advertisement for his line of (presumably) luxury jewelry. In other words, Hawks on some level is synonymous with style and flair to the point he can make money by selling jewelry with his name on it.

Chapter 20 Volume Cover - Explicit Type: Hawk emblem on the watch face - If the name “Hawks” didn’t give it away, he’s very clearly trying to align himself with more avian qualities if his merch has bird motifs. In other words Hawk = “Hero Hawks” and “Hero Hawks” = bird.

Chapter 192, 244, clear file illustration - Peripheral Type: birdlike posture. Chapter 244 isn’t quite released yet on the official site as of writing this, but when Hawks swoops in and beats the kids to the punch apprehending the criminals trying to subdue Endeavor, his hands are clenched in a very talon-like manner similar to a swooping eagle. When walking with Endeavor in 192, he holds his resting hand in a similar fashion. On the clear file illustration he’s not only perched on his tippy toes in a pose that has been famously called “owling” (remember that trend/meme, y’all?) but his wings are slightly outstretched to catch the breeze to keep from falling over which a lot of birds can be seen doing when they don’t have great purchase on a surface in a place that’s a little windy. The fact that he seems to gravitate to high places like birds are often seen doing might also be a noteworthy indication.

Extra sources:

Hawks Shifuku: Horikoshi describes Hawks as a “bird person” and says that his initial design was based off of Takahiro from his old manga. 

Takahiro’s design:

Current character design: The banner image on my blog was commissioned from a friend of mine who doesn’t follow the series. When I showed her reference images of Hawks, you know what she said? “Oh! His hair is feathers!” Even his eyebrows have that fluffy/scruffy texture to them that his hair has. The markings on his eyes can also be seen on him as a young child in Chapter 191 which means it isn’t makeup meant to tie in a theme or look. He has those dark, pointed eye markings like many birds do. So on some genetic level he resembles a bird.

Step 4: Testing our hypothesis with the gathered evidence.

There’s already a lot of compelling evidence that already closely aligns him to birds which is promising. However, to really prove our point we should try to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt he is a bird. To do that this time around I’m going to see how the series treats people with animal-based quirks and see if it’s consistent with the way Hawks is portrayed.

You bring up Hound Dog and Tsuyu, and they’re fantastic examples. Let’s start with Hound.

He’s pretty straight forward - he’s like a dog. He has a dog face, has dog-like tendencies, and dog-like abilities. Superpower: dog.

And in Tsuyu’s case - quirk: frog, just frog. She’s stated explicitly to have frog-like features, frog-like tendencies, have frog-like abilities, and even comes from a “froggy family.”

So with these two very explicitly animal-like characters the common theme seems to be “If they’re considered to be like a specific animal, they have to physically resemble that animal, act like that animal at times, and have abilities like that animal.” Let’s see if another animal-quirk character matches up and then put Hawks to the test.

Spinner’s quirk is Gecko. Based on our criteria, is he a gecko?

Does he look like a gecko, even vaguely? 

Yes, he’s covered head to toe in scales, and his face is very lizard-like.

Does he occasionally act like a gecko? 

Unclear. We haven’t really seen any evidence of this, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t. For the sake of our argument, we’ll just say no and move on.

Does he have gecko-like abilities?

 Yes! Though most of his abilities are limited to things like being able to stick to walls, it’s still gecko-like in origin and qualifies.

Spinner hits clearly hits ⅔ criteria and our standards seem pretty consistent, so let’s see how Hawks stands up.

Does he look like a bird? 

Not all of his features may explicitly scream “avian” at first, but upon closer observation and with his clear previous inspiration this is a resounding yes.

Does he act like a bird? 

Many of the mannerisms and behaviors he displays can just be chalked up to him being a little eccentric, but with the sheer number of them that also parallel birds in some way this is also a pretty convincing yes.

Does he have bird-like abilities? 

While most of the emphasis is on his wings and what they can do, it does seem that he not only possesses things like heightened senses which could be attributed to avian abilities but he also very much possess high intelligence and incredibly fast reaction times which birds are also known for.

Even if we only gave Hawks a “maybe/half a point” for those last two, he still meets the 2⁄3 that Spinner did. So we have another question to ask: Does a character have to have an explicitly named “animal” quirk to be considered to be/resemble a specific animal? Let’s look at Ojirou and Tokoyami for reference.

Ojirou’s quirk is just “tail,” but he’s been described by his peers and classmates as a monkey and does seem to share some more monkey-like features. It isn’t lumped in with his quirk because the only notable monkey-like quality he possesses is a tail. He doesn’t have fangs or an opposable toe - he just has a tail. For quirk classification as far as hero work goes, that’s the only important thing to note.

Tokoyami, on the other hand has an entire literal bird head, but nothing else. He has a beak, feathers, and even in illustrations of him as a baby he had fluffier feathers on his head. Even with only those details, he just screams “bird!” However, his quirk is classified as “Dark Shadow” because that’s what sets him apart for hero work.

Back at Hawks we see his quirk classified as “fierce wings” but like Ojirou and especially like Tokoyami, the emphasis on his wings is what sets his abilities as a hero apart. Otherwise, he’s just a guy who looks and acts a LOT like a bird.

But astute observers may have noticed I’ve left out a detail that’s more or less a nail in the coffin on the whole matter, so let me ask a question: Tsuyu in particular has something else of note that solidifies in our minds that she is, indeed, a frog - she explicitly calls herself a frog. Could we say the same about Hawks?

Chapter 199 - Explicit Type

Bingo. Hawks has known himself for as long as he’s been alive. He knows his habits, his impulses, his family/genes, and so on. If he calls himself a bird, are we going to call him a liar? In fact, he calls himself a bird not once, but twice!

That’s pretty much it. With the evidence stacked to that degree, I’d be hard pressed to NOT believe he’s a bird.

That was a long amount of text to get through, so if you’re here at the end thank you for sticking out with me to this point. I really appreciate it. This is more or less the process I use when analyzing anything and everything whether it be HeroAca related or not. Maybe it’ll help you if you’ve struggled with literary analysis, or at the very least I hope you got some enjoyment out of it.

TL;DR If Hawks looks like a bird, walks (acts) like a bird, is based on a bird (character), and calls himself a bird, he’s probably a bird.

[modestmuses-a]

the positive & negative :    mun & muse  /  fill out & repost .

EKKO

MY MUSE IS :    canon  /  oc  /  au  /  slightly canon - divergent / fandomless / complicated 

i try to stay mostly close to ekko’s canon but i also have a fuckton of aus for him including some real self-indulgent bullshit that isn’t even on his verses page. if you want me to make a new au for ekko to fit him into a different skin line or something, i’ll probably do it tbh.

IS YOUR CHARACTER POPULAR IN THE FANDOM ?    YES  /  NO / I DON’T KNOW 

IS YOUR CHARACTER CONSIDERED HOT™ IN THE FANDOM ?  YES /  NO  /  IDK

for better or worse. when “giants” first came out, i had more ekko smut on my dash than i ever cared to see.

IS YOUR CHARACTER CONSIDERED STRONG IN THE FANDOM ? YES  /  NO  /  IDK

i can tell you what i think of ekko’s strength, and i can tell you that... it isn’t much. he’s not the most adept fighter in the series, and most of the time, he wins fights by cheesing them with time travel. in my thread with @uncaged-bloodhunter​ ekko would be DEAD four times over by now if not for the zero drive.

however, i haven’t seen much fandom opinion about his strength? i’m going to go out on a limb and say most people probably don’t find him very strong bc? i don’t see a lot of people saying that but. who knows.

ARE THEY UNDERRATED ?   YES  /  NO  /  IDK

canon-wise, fandom-wise, and on this blog, ekko gets a lot of attention, which i’m not complaining about. he’s a fav.

WERE THEY RELEVANT FOR THE MAIN STORY ? YES  /  NO  /  IDK

he is important around zaun, but considering he won’t LEAVE that place, i doubt we’ll see him achieve much relevance in the bigger overarching conflicts in the league universe anytime soon.

WERE THEY RELEVANT FOR THE MAIN CHARACTER ? YES /  NO  /  IDK

if league did have a main character, i’m sure he would never meet them unless they were from piltover or zaun lol

ARE THEY WIDELY KNOWN IN THEIR WORLD ?   YES  /  NO  /  IDK

around piltover/zaun, all the academics are trying to get him to sit down with them, but overall? nah. if he went anywhere other than piltover or zaun, they would have no fucking idea who he was.

HOW’S THEIR REPUTATION ?    GOOD  /  BAD  /  NEUTRAL

pilties HATE him! click to find out why!

no, but in seriousness, around zaun, his reputation is quite good as one of the few decent souls in the city. but in piltover, he’s just another thuggish troublemaker on a spree of petty crimes, as if zaun doesn’t already have enough of those...

HOW STRICTLY DO YOU FOLLOW CANON ?

shrugs. i don’t actively think about adhering to canon with every thread i write, of course, but i do think i have a pretty good handle on his character so.

SELL YOUR MUSE !( try to list everything that makes your muse interesting to make them spicy for your mutuals ) 

he is a nice sweet boy who WILL adopt every single child and will go out of his way to help those in need. he also has plenty of spunk and a real get-up-and-go kind of personality, he’s not the kind of person who likes just “hanging around” so he’s a perfect companion for someone who likes to get out and adventure as long as you don’t go outside of piltover/zaun. he’s very loyal and will stick up for his friends, even when it would be more convenient to sell them out. and of course, he’s willing to call authority figures out on their bullshit and doesn’t sit back and passively watch injustices happen.

NOW THE OPPOSITE !(  list everything why your muse could not be so interesting . even if you may not agree. what does the fandom perhaps think ?  )

he’s got abandonment issues up to HERE, and because of that, he is c l i n g y. if he gets attached to you in any way, he will NOT let you go. he will NOT get over you. he will probably keep trying to worm his way back into your life for months or YEARS because he just doesn’t know how to deal with being left.

furthermore, he represses every negative emotion he has ever felt because he feels like his problems are trivial compared to other people’s so he bottles that shit right on up like cheap cough-syrup-tastin’ whiskey. he holds onto a LOT of resentment - at piltover, at the chembarons, at himself, at the world - and because he doesn’t allow himself to DO anything with said resentment, he’s a ticking time bomb (pun fully intended). i do have... timelines... where all that internalized hostility blows up in a really messy way. and by messy, i mean bloody.

WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO RP YOUR MUSE ? 

around the time i first started getting into league, a bitch was going through it. we were pretty destitute and received an eviction notice, and i had to work my ass off to keep us from losing our apartment. it was a very depressing time for everyone involved. but then i found ekko, this boy who had even less than i did but made the most of it, who always found some way to make the day better. writing him became very cathartic for me because it allowed me to take something positive away from what was one of the worst years of my life.

WHAT KEEPS YOUR INSPIRATION GOING ? 

punk rock music, haha! especially that of billy talent. their whole dead silence album is pretty ekko, but they have a lot of bangers that remind me of him scattered across all their albums. we deserved punk rock ekko and instead we got fucking true damage because riot didn’t wanna get political, i guess. smh.

some more personal questions for the mun . give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters , which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not .

DO YOU THINK YOU GIVE YOUR CHARACTER JUSTICE ?   YES  /  NO  /  IDK                      

DO YOU FREQUENTLY WRITE HEADCANONS ? YES /  NO  /  IDK

i kind of only address headcanons as they come up. very occasionally i will drop a few for a new muse just so that people get a better feel for who they are before writing them but... yeah written headcanons are pretty few and far between here. it’s really not even worth me having a headcanon banner lmao

DO YOU SOMETIMES WRITE DRABBLES ?    YES  /  NO  /  IDK

i would like to, but writing my replies here kind of sucks up most of my time!

DO YOU THINK A LOT ABOUT YOUR MUSE DURING THE DAY ? YES /  NO  /  IDK

ARE YOU CONFIDENT IN YOUR PORTRAYAL ? YES  /  NO  /  IDK

too confident some might say, but those people would be silly fools

ARE YOU CONFIDENT IN YOUR WRITING ?   YES  /  NO  /  IDK  

ARE YOU A SENSITIVE PERSON ?   YES /  NO  /  IDK

sometimes i get anxiety about stupid shit but i try and often fail to be secure

DO YOU ACCEPT CRITICISM WELL ABOUT YOUR PORTRAYAL ?

nope, i ain’t changing a thing. i’m the best ekko on this site, and you are free to disagree with that because everyone is entitled to their wrong opinion, but my askbox is closed to those kinds of complaints. :)

DO YOU LIKE QUESTIONS , WHICH HELP YOU TO EXPLORE YOUR CHARACTER ?

yeah, sure, although i understand why people don’t send them because i often draw blanks on what to send without somebody reblogging a headcanon meme or something. if you just reblog “send my character questions on anon!” i’m probably not gonna do it bc i have no idea what kinds of questions would even be relevant or helpful for you.

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES TO A HEADCANON OF YOURS , DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY

nah, everyone can do what they want. i usually won’t follow people if i don’t agree with their headcanons, but i’m not about to get all up in somebody’s business about it.

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES WITH YOUR PORTRAYAL , HOW WOULD YOU TAKE IT ?

again, wrong opinion, but you’re allowed to have it and you’re also allowed to SMASH that unfollow button.

IF SOMEONE REALLY HATES YOUR CHARACTER , HOW DO YOU TAKE IT ?

who hates ekko of all people, first of all? but second of all, i don’t care. just don’t get in my dms about it ‘cause i’ll block you. i’m not really interested in somebody bashing one of my muses to my face.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH PEOPLE POINTING OUT YOUR GRAMMATICAL ERRORS ?

shrugs. yeah, i guess. i usually leave other people’s grammatical errors alone as long as i can read their stuff.

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE EASY GOING AS A MUN ?

yeah i think so. i try to be, anyway. i like to make ooc friendships bc i find it way more satisfying and easy to write with friends. although i sound a little bitchy in parts of this, it’s mostly jokes for exaggeration effects.

tagged by: @bikmui

tagging: @storiestotell (akutagawa), @bystcrdust, @dimensionaljumper (for eliza ‘cause i always send stuff for scribe lol)