#And by the ones I do take I mean the ones for expression/palette challenges and such.

[shima-draws]

All right since u didn't draw the Evangelyne Bill Cipher fusion (which I don't mind at all btw) instead I'll ask, if they were fused together what would the fusion's personality be like?

Anon respectfully WHAT are you talking about

[awwkie-dot-jar]

I think we don't talk enough about the implications of Val Velocity's main color being white. So I'm writing a short essay about it.

About Val Velocity's character design

I need to start this off with a brief rundown of the narrative of Danger Days. Danger Days is centered around themes of self expression, anti-conformism and anti-corporation. The killjoys are rebels who are fighting BL/ind, an evil company that seeks to control every aspect of an individuals' life. The Killjoys fight with their appearance just as much as they do with guns. They use their flamboyant, eccentric and colorful clothing as a way to challenge the sanitized, conformist society that BL/ind is promoting. The mask, which in other media is typically used to indicate hiding one's true self, in the context of Danger Days takes the opposite meaning: the Killjoys' customized masks are the ultimate tool of self-expression. Each member of the Fabulous Four, the original gang of Killjoys, has a color distinctive to them, which matches the color of their gun.

In the context of Danger Days, whites and greys are used to symbolize lack of identity and conformism. This is evident if we compare the original Killjoys to BL/ind agents.

Now we get to Val Velocity as a character. His story takes place several years after the Fabulous Four, have been killed. Val is the leader of a group called the Ultra Vs, and he's trying to continue the legacy of the Fabulous Four. We learn that he particularly looks up to their leader, Party Poison. This is reinforced by the fact that his own gun is yellow just like theirs. However, Val is fundamentally different than the former Killjoys. He's arrogant, and he fights because he craves violence and glory, rather than to actually stand up for what is right.

His design and attitude conveys this quite well in my opinion:

His palette is almost completely monochromatic. Hell, if he was placed amongst the BL/ind henchmen instead of the Killjoys in the pic below I wouldn't even bat an eye.

Val does not understand what the Fabulous Four standed for. He's not fighting BL/ind to protect people, or for the sake of freedom of self expression, or to fight conformism. In fact, Val's own sense of identity is shaky, as he's trying to follow the footsteps of someone else. Most of his identity revolves around trying to emulate Poison: even his own gun, which is almost as important as the mask to a Killjoy, is the same color as theirs. And the gun, something he has assimilated from someone else's identity, is one of the few things differentiating him from the BL/ind agents as far as color schemes go.

Val is not fighting for ideals, he's fighting because he craves violence. We see him hurting others with no remorse, often deliberately harming those who are weaker than him for the sake of it. In which way is his violence any better than BL/ind's?

The necklace with vampire fangs, arguably his most iconic design element, also plays into this. The Killjoys are fighting the Dracs, BL/ind agents who wear a mask with vampire fangs. In the context of Danger Days, his necklace is an open threat to the Dracs. His most prominent design element is a symbol of violence.

His palette being mostly white, in an universe where color is a synonym of resistence and self expression, is very telling. One would naturally assume that if he were to add color to his appearance during the story, it would be a sign of character growth. But the ttlotfk comics subvert that expectation, because when that moment comes it has exactly the opposite meaning:

Val, after spiraling into paranoia and mania, dyes his hair "Poison red" in an attempt to appropriate Poison's legacy. This is the ultimate act of lack of self identity. The first time Val has tried to add color to his appearance, what should have been an act of self-expression, is him attempting to "take" someone else's color. But he cannot be Poison, or overshadow his legacy. Val is only a caricature of who Poison was: aside from the gun, and the bright red hair, he has nothing in common with them. He doesn't have the morals, nor he fights for the same ideals.

I think Val, as a character, is meant to be a testament to how in every rebellion there will be people looking for an outlet for violence rather than fighting for a right cause.

[grimoirey]

A Walk with Sagittarius:

A Journey

♐♐♐♐♐

As the first rays of sunlight break over the horizon, you find yourself standing at the entrance of a vibrant, open field, the air alive with possibility. There, with a twinkle in their eye and an adventurous spirit, stands Sagittarius, ready to lead you on a day filled with exploration and discovery. With an infectious smile, they extend their hand, inviting you to embrace the freedom of the journey ahead.

🏹 The Meadow of Curiosity

Your adventure begins in a vast meadow, flowers blooming in wild abundance, colors swirling like a painter’s palette under the expansive blue sky. Sagittarius bounds ahead, their energy palpable. “Welcome to the Meadow of Curiosity!” they exclaim, laughter ringing like music. “Here, we ask questions and seek answers, leaving no stone unturned!”

As you roam through the meadow, Sagittarius stops to examine an unusual flower. “What do you think it represents?” they challenge, their eyes sparkling with mischief. You discuss the meanings behind different flowers, realizing that Sagittarius thrives on exploration and learning, embodying the spirit of a seeker. They remind you that every encounter holds a lesson, every experience a chance for growth. “Life is an adventure,” they say, grinning widely. “Let’s embrace the unknown!”

🏹 The Canyon of Freedom

Next, you find yourself at the edge of a breathtaking canyon, the sheer cliffs plunging into a vast valley below. The wind whistles through the air, carrying the scent of earth and freedom. Sagittarius grins as they look out over the expansive view. “This is the Canyon of Freedom,” they declare, stretching their arms wide as if to embrace the whole world. “Feel the exhilaration of possibility!”

You embark on a hike along the canyon’s rim, Sagittarius leading the way with a light-hearted spirit. They share tales of their own travels—stories of exotic lands, cultural encounters, and spontaneous adventures. “Every journey shapes who we are,” they explain, their enthusiasm infectious. Yet, amidst their joy, you sense an underlying restlessness; they crave exploration and new horizons. “I can’t stay in one place for too long,” they admit, a hint of longing in their voice. This realization underscores their free spirit, highlighting the tension between a love for adventure and the need for deeper connections.

🏹 The Market of Ideas

As the sun climbs higher, Sagittarius takes you to a bustling market filled with vibrant colors, sounds, and a rich tapestry of cultures. “Welcome to the Market of Ideas!” they announce, their eyes wide with excitement. “This is where thoughts and philosophies come alive!”

Wandering through stalls filled with books, art, and artifacts, you engage in animated discussions with local vendors about everything from philosophy to the mysteries of the universe. Sagittarius thrives in this environment, effortlessly connecting with people, drawing out their stories and wisdom. “There’s so much to learn from everyone!” they exclaim, their enthusiasm lighting up the space. Yet, amidst their curiosity, they also showcase a touch of impatience. When a conversation lingers too long on mundane details, you see them glance around, eager for the next discovery. “Let’s keep moving!” they urge, ready to chase the next intriguing idea.

🏹 The Campfire of Connection

As twilight descends, Sagittarius leads you to a secluded campsite where a warm fire crackles under a blanket of stars. “This is the Campfire of Connection,” they say, inviting you to settle down on a log. The warmth of the flames flickers against the night sky, illuminating Sagittarius’s face as they share their deeper reflections.

With the stars overhead, they open up about their philosophy on life—how they seek to live authentically, embracing the highs and lows of existence. “I believe in living boldly and with purpose,” they say earnestly, their eyes shining. They express their love for freedom and adventure, but also a desire for meaningful connections. “I’m searching for kindred spirits who understand the journey,” they admit, revealing a more vulnerable side. As you share stories under the stars, you feel the profound bonds of friendship form, a reminder of the importance of connection even in a life of adventure.

In this intimate setting, Sagittarius also speaks candidly about love. They describe their passionate approach to relationships, filled with excitement and spontaneity. “When I’m in love, it’s like an adventure,” they say, a spark in their eyes. “But I fear being tied down, losing my freedom.” You sense the dichotomy within them—the desire for deep connections and the instinct to roam. Their laughter fades for a moment as they admit to the challenges of heartbreak. “Sometimes, the fear of getting hurt makes me run,” they confess, acknowledging the shadows that come with their bright spirit.

🏹 The Horizon of Dreams

Finally, Sagittarius guides you to a hilltop where the vast horizon stretches before you, the sun setting in a blaze of colors—golden, orange, and deep purple. “This is the Horizon of Dreams,” they say, taking a deep breath of the fresh evening air. “Here, we reflect on our hopes and aspirations.”

As you both stand in awe of the beauty before you, Sagittarius speaks about their dreams—traveling to distant lands, experiencing new cultures, and pursuing knowledge that transcends boundaries. “I want to understand the world, to explore every corner of it,” they say, their voice filled with passion. Yet, you also see a flicker of uncertainty; the fear of being untethered or drifting through life without direction. “I want to make my mark,” they reflect, a hint of seriousness in their tone. In this moment, you realize how their adventurous spirit is balanced by a yearning for purpose and meaning.

🏹 The Journey Home

As the stars begin to twinkle in the night sky, Sagittarius walks you back to the edge of the meadow, the day’s adventures still pulsing in your veins. “Thank you for sharing this incredible journey with me,” they say, their spirit vibrant and alive. “Remember, life is an adventure waiting to unfold. Embrace the unknown and seek out new experiences!”

With a final embrace, you step back into your world, carrying with you the wisdom and excitement gleaned from your day with Sagittarius. Their unquenchable thirst for exploration and connection lingers in your heart, encouraging you to approach life with an open mind and a spirit of adventure. You leave with a newfound understanding of their personality—both the joy of their freedom and the depth of their yearning for meaning—ready to seek your own horizons and embrace the journey ahead.

♐♐♐♐♐♐♐♐

[inklores]

miguel o'hara── a study in security

it's really funny how most of my finals this quarter have me reading so many pieces that relate with the fics i'm writing and the characters i have brainrot over. i'm reading chapter 6 of eva illouz's book, "why love hurts," and the section about how love and security can't always co-exist hit me... because that is exactly how miguel o'hara regulates his life and shapes his influence within the spider-society.

"Security is often seen as incompatible with passion, or even as leading to its demise. But I would argue that this need for “security” and/or for “adventure” is not an invariant constituent of the psyche; or if it is, then security and adventure take on changing shapes in different cultural structures. They are also outcomes of the social organization of the psyche. Security derives from the capacity to control and to predict one’s environment; adventure, by contrast, derives from feeling challenged, either in one’s social identity or in the ways in which one knows how to do things." (Illouz, 219).

rewatching atsv and i notice just how locked and authoritative miguel runs his facility. micromanaged down to the knick-knacks hobie swipes. the differences in lighting and color theory with how miles & the gang associate with different spider-people, being lit in white and warm shades... then we meet miguel and he is in pitch dark with reddish and deep blue undertones. his character design is similar to the spot, where the sketch design is still visible amidst the rendering and coloring. this color palette carries with him and it sucks all his interactions in with it. from berating gwen after miles escapes to watching archival footage of his daughter, it's so deeply rooted that breaking out of that sphere will quite literally destroy what little he already has left and what he managed to preserve.

the man is STRESSED. we see that from his design to his dialogue. he believes he is single-handedly keeping the multiverse together and he expresses it multiple times. he thinks he can't have comfort and duty at the same time, believing that is what it means to be spider-man. it takes away his humor too, pointed out by peter b. when he says all spider-men are supposed to be funny. the only time he really shows any sort of wit is when he interacts with lyla and maybe jess, but even then, it's so dry and sarcastic. (save his interaction with baby mayday bc that man is also a father.)

but he's "okay" with this great responsibility. this is his security because it's what he's able to control when once, he wasn't able to control anything and it left him so badly wounded that it isolated any possibility of change or evolution for the order of things. when miles left, he shouted, "ALL HE HAD TO DO WAS LISTEN!" and then a softer, almost baffled and frustrated, "why didn't he listen...?"

illouz talks about how visual stimulations or even the presence of something we can hear or see can shape or crush the way we look at ourselves.

Research on the impact of media images on how individuals perceive their bodies suggests that images of perfect bodies have negative effects on self-esteem and self-concept because watching these images suggests to people both that others can achieve them more easily (competitiveness) and that others view them as important (normative legitimacy). Media images thus become a source of disappointment through the implicit mediation of what we think they say about others’ expectations of us and about their achievements compared to ours. Widespread images of love may instill ideas that others achieve love when we do not, and that achieving love is normatively important for successful life. (Illouz, 220).

hobie mentioned it before we officially meet miguel. he says miles seemingly has it alright with his parents and stable family life. and someone like miguel, who keeps a watchful eye over everything that goes on with spidermen, knows that. and he's jealous of it, i would argue. he believes as spider-man, there is a required sacrifice or weight of loss to carry.

while it is a very recurring trope with every iteration of spider-man that's been watched or read, miles has felt loss and loneliness. but he hasn't felt it in the way miguel has because what miguel went through is so singular and unique to him. the only ones who may understand what that would feel like would be gwen or even pav, seeing their dimension and/or livelihood beginning to crumble.

but miles has everything... and is also spider-man and i just know that burns miguel. it's not what he believes should be the order of the "spider-man journey," even though happiness and responsibility can and has worked together. example, peter b. and his daughter.

it's inconceivable for miguel to think something or someone can deny him or run the other way. because everyone is primed to understand that it's his way or quite literally, the destruction of everything. nobody can suggest another way. nobody can say no. aside from the doomsday vibes, miguel is also objectively scary when he’s genuinely angry. not even irritated or annoyed. irate. he’s also colossal. he’s mr. property damage. this need for control and this ability to maintain it under his thumb fuels his antagonistic relationship with anomalies or things he sees as a threat to his security. he doesn't like to be challenged, he likes to be listened to because he knows how the multiverse works and what can come out of it if even a single spider-person has a foot out of line.

and with all the hints left over at the end of the film of how miguel may be wrong, that there is a way to fix the multiverse while protecting the people they love, there will be some serious fractures to his security and everything will open up once again.

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Love In Trouble [Part Four]

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician, RPF

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Original Female Character, Austin Butler x Original Female Character

Characters: Characters: Elvis Presley, Original Female Character, Austin Butler, Red West, Sonny West, Jerry Schilling Colonel Tom Parker, Minnie Presley, Vernon Presley, Dee Presley, Joanie Esposito, Joe Esposito, Pat West

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3699

Summary: Lori Presley lives the high life. She has a lovely home, a elegant wardrobe and her parties are the most sought after ticket in town. Not to mention her husband is the King of Memphis. But what if she no longer wants to be the Queen?

Tags/Warnings: This is a mafia au with detective austin butler entering the chat, Memphis Mafia, Detective Austin Butler, Adultery, Infidelity, Love, Angst, Unhappy Marriage, Murder, Court Room Drama in the loosest possible way, AU, Set in the 70s

Notes: ngl the logistics of this one are hammering me but we're trying here

LINK TO ALL PARTS // LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST

Detective Butler’s apartment was nice. The stonework was a rustic red colour and the gardens that adjoined the sidewalk out front were kept neat and tidy. Even the parking lot out back looked respectable with newish vehicles in every spot and an electric gate that hinted at the smell of the inhabitants being more well off than others in the surrounding neighbourhoods. Still money or not it was a far cry from the homes she was used to. The winding driveways up to bleached brickwork. Ornate stained glass that coloured the sunshine as it shone through onto a thick shag pile.

Still Lori didn’t think that the difference in architectural design was the reason for her feeling so out of place. It wasn’t the reason she’d come when she was sure Elvis wouldn’t notice her absence. It wasn’t why she’d lied and told him she’d been roped into some church event whilst he went to the club. It wasn’t the reason she scurried inside hoping no one saw or recognised her even opting to wear something casual in the hopes she wouldn't draw attention to herself.

Thankfully she didn’t pass anyone on the way up to his apartment and when she got there the door was open meaning she didn’t have to do anything more than check it was him at the door before she darted inside, allowing him to close it softly behind her.

‘You’re late,’ he said as he watched her look around, pushing her oversized sunglasses up onto her elegantly styled hairdo before she looked back at him. Her expression was cold, all the emotion and care wiped from it, and it made him falter, clearing his throat nervously as he added, ‘I er, I thought you weren’t coming.’

‘Yeah well I’m here aren’t I?’ she challenged, ‘this apartment building isn’t exactly easy to find.’

‘Well we could’ve done it at the station,’ he replied, making her jaw tighten and her arms cross across her body. Austin cleared his throat and moved towards the kitchen trying to resist pushing her for fear she’d spook and flee taking whatever leads he had with her.

‘Drink?’ he asked, ducking behind the wall that sectioned his kitchen/diner off from the living room. He could hear her moving around, no doubt assessing his entire life or at least what he’d bothered to unpack yet, but he decided to let her.

‘Water’s fine,’ she called.

Lori could hear him moving about, the faucet coming on and the clink of glasses, but she ignored it moving around the room as she assessed him.  She didn’t know what she'd been expecting from this straightlaced, hard edged cop. The one that had accosted her at the church function felt stiff and unyielding. She’d expected his apartment to be all dark panelling and chrome but it was soft. Neutral palettes against soft furnishings. At first she’d thought it was the choice of the landlord, a uniform that allowed them to rent on a whim, but there were personal touches that hinted it may be more his taste than some faceless home owner. A movie poster of an art nouveau film she had never heard of. A potted plant that was thriving despite the position it held within the room. A picture of a young blond boy and what looked like his mom, the pair beaming.

When he re-emerged and placed her drink on the coffee table he could feel her eyeing him, her blue eyes sweeping up and down his lean frame with curiosity. Austin said nothing but straightened up looking her dead in the eye as if signalling he wasn’t put off by the scrutiny. Then he gestured to the sofa allowing her to sit down which did so gracefully before he took his own seat in his armchair, his finger brushing underneath his chin as he watched her.

She’d taken to looking around his apartment again and he took the time to observe her whilst she was distracted. She looked different again today. Not a chic nightclub attendee, not a cutesy woman of the church but a blend of the two with her outfit of choice being a pair of tight bell bottoms that maintained modesty and a waif of fabric that knotted against her chest as if bragging about being just enough material to be called a shirt. Again her hair was perfectly styled but her makeup was neutral, enough that she could be deemed as making an effort but not so much it supported the idea she was to impress him.

When she looked back and found him watching her she busied herself with her drink, taking a long swig as if she was determined to prolong being the one to initiate conversation. And though he liked making her squirm he decided to be merciful and said, ‘so.’

‘So?’ she scoffed, placing the glass down on a coaster as she raised her brow, ‘that’s all you have to say?’

‘What am I supposed to say?’ Austin shrugged, leaning back in his chair casually as if he was unbothered about the outcome of this rendezvous.

‘Just so?’ she baulked.

‘Well you called me,’ he mused, ‘and insisted on meeting face to face. I assumed whatever it was you were going to be doing the explaining. I mean I don’t suppose you’d come all the way down here to tell me what I already know. Or to parrot out the official company line.’

‘Which is?’ she pressed.

‘That Tony Bowen had nothing to do with Kings. Or you for that matter,’ he challenged. Lori shifted, crossing and uncrossing her legs as she grabbed her glass of water once more if only to have something to mess with.

Of course that was why she was here. She was here because he was the only person who might possibly believe what she had been thinking these past few days. He might believe her or possibly tell her that what she had been thinking was ludicrous. That the evidence didn’t lend itself to the notions she had been having. But to get there it seemed he was determined to make her utter those notions out loud.

‘Okay,’ she said, her throat thick with a spittle she swallowed down as she tried to get the words out, ‘okay so we had an affair.’

‘And?’ Austin replied, watching as she fell quiet, her gaze flitting to her lap. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him but he was sick of people pussyfooting around the issue when a man was dead and so he pressed, ‘and what does that have to do with his death?’

‘I don't know,’ she lied, swallowing thickly though to her surprise the familiar sting of tears had not presented themselves. Austin sighed.

‘Then why are you here?’

‘Because,’ she said looking at him, his blue eyes wide and expectant which lowered her tone to something barely audible, ‘because I think my husband might have something to do with it.’

‘Why do you think that?’ he asked in the most forgiving tone he’d summoned since meeting her.

‘Because no one crosses Elvis Presley,’ she said quietly.

The sentiment hung in the air for a moment, the pair of them watching one another until she became too shy to look at him, her gaze turning to her glass once more as she chugged the icy cold water down allowing it to wash the tears and bile from her throat from finally having spoken the words aloud.

She hadn't wanted to believe it. Of course she was not naïve to the types of things her husband and his entourage got up to in the name of work but it had never been any of her business. She did not have a hand in it. The wheels were greased enough that trouble rarely arose from it and if it did it was swiftly dealt with.

But this, Tony's death, hadn't been something she could ignore. Because Elvis had made sure it wasn’t. Even as they danced around the topic of why he would be involved or why she might care about some bus boy she had known that this was not something simple. This was personal. He had made it personal. He had killed Tony because he knew it would hurt her. Punish her for daring to find solace in the arms of another man like he had never done the same. It was a reminder that at the end of the day she was his. A reflection on him and if she was going to misbehave he would too but worse.

Austin was still watching her when he cleared his throat, sad blue eyes flitting back to his face as he probed gently, ‘okay…but do you really think he’d kill someone over an affair?’

‘It’s an embarrassment,’ she reasoned.

‘Okay sure,’ he said hesitantly, ‘but killing the guy? I mean what if he got caught surely the motive coming out is just as embarrassing. I mean no offence but he'd be just as well killin’ you-’

‘Killing me wouldn’t be a punishment though would it?’ she challenged, ‘no one knows why Tony's dead apart from me and him. I can't even mourn him or challenge him about it because that would be admitting fault. I get to sit in grief whilst he gets away with murder. It’s a solid punishment.’

‘Why not just divorce you?’ Austin challenged, again longing for the golden hue of California where there seemed to be less scrutiny over honour and shame. After all, it was hard to talk about morals and respect when everyone in tinsel town was screwing someone they shouldn’t.

‘And risk a scandal? Risk the humiliation of being left for a younger man, please,’ she scoffed, shaking her head and looking away from him as if listening to his ridiculous theories would make her stupider. Austin sighed and leaned forward weighing up his case.

‘Okay say he did kill the guy,’ Austin started, ‘I haven’t got much to go on other than your word. He has an alibi for one.’

‘Yeah he said he left the club at one and was home in good time but he didn’t get to the house until well after two thirty,’ she reasoned.

‘But no one could corroborate that other than you. His boys are adamant they got him home on time,’ Austin said, recalling the way his questions had gone down like a lead balloon when he’d broached the boss’ departure time on the night in question.

‘Our security system might be able to,’ she said, praying that the tape had not been pre-emptively wiped.

‘Okay so he wasn’t at home,’ Austin shrugged.

‘And he was shot right? Elvis has guns and I bet you could match one of them to whatever killed Tony,’ she continued. She could see his reluctance and because of it she could feel her heart breaking as the only person who was willing to believe Tony had come to foul play no longer seeing the way it could've happened.

‘It’s flimsy,’ he said.

‘It’s all I got,’ she breathed.

Austin pondered that for a moment trying to find how he could work the scarce evidence into something workable. It wasn’t a great fit and considering the rift it would cause he couldn’t imagine it'd be easy to push through for an arrest let alone a trial but there was something to her that tugged at his heart strings. Like the old lady crying down the phone to him and his own sense of justice, her being willing to take the risk felt well big.

And yet he wasn’t sure he could trust her. Not yet anyway.

But without her he had nothing. Without a testimony or hint at where to find more evidence the case would collapse around him. So he pressed, the stoic, sceptical cop returning to replace the one that had tried to ease her out of her shell.

‘Why do you want to help anyway? I mean you didn’t seem too bothered before,’ he challenged.

‘I loved Tony,’ she said truthfully.

‘Do you love him?’ he asked, not saying his name yet they both felt the weight of his presence. When she dropped her gaze to her empty glass he snorted, making her head snap back up as he asked, ‘if you love him why are you here? You are aware this could ruin his life.’

‘I’m aware,’ she snapped, ‘but it’s my fault Tony’s dead. And I suppose he deserves justice.’

‘And that’s your husband in prison?’ he challenged, ‘why not just leave him? Humiliate him.’

‘It’s not as simple as packing a bag and leaving,’ she retorted.

‘Oh,’ he chuckled, ‘this is your way out without the blame laying at your feet right?’

‘Oh I’m plenty to blame,’ she smiled mirthlessly, ‘but I figure the blood of a dead man on my hands and a jailed husband might go some way in repentance.’

Austin could see her point but in his eyes her worldview was still skewed as if she would come out of this with only secret shame. A point he dared to make as he said, ‘you know if we go through with this there may not be any saving you. We will have to tell them everything and despite whatever evidence we can cobble together it might all come down to your testimony.’

‘I understand,’ she said quietly. Austin hesitated but decided to ask anyway. He already had his hopes up at the chance at pushing this case to where it needed to be.

‘So you’re in?’ he asked, ‘because I’m not going to go through with this only for you to change your mind-‘

‘I won't,’ she affirmed.

‘How can I trust that?’ he asked sceptically.

‘You can't,’ she smiled sadly, making his heart flip flop, ‘but I loved Tony and I know you think I can do the right thing.’

‘But you love him.’

‘I did but right now I'm not sure I’ll be able to again not knowing what he did,’ she said. Austin nodded and weighed his options up once more.

It was almost foolhardy to think he could trust her, the wife of a wannabe mobster. And if he did trust her and it all went south he'd only have himself to blame. He would not have a chance at staying in the precinct or the county for that matter. He’d probably have to move again. But there was something in her eyes he couldn’t ignore. A tugging at his heart strings. She was one of the most famous women in Memphis and yet here in his small apartment she felt helpless. The rock on her left hand and the designer shades perched on her coiffed hairdo were nothing more than façade. Because what true riches did she have in her life?

Her husband hadn't even noticed her affair until it was over. The love she had for Tony was tucked away never to be mentioned in the light of day. A plethora of people moved in and out of her home every day and yet no one had noticed she was here. Apart from smoke and mirrors what substance did her life have? To him it appeared very little.

Then again he supposed his own life favoured that at the moment. Without his work he wasn’t much of anything these days which was probably why he put so much stock in solving this case. He supposed they’d just have to help one another.

‘Fine,’ he nodded, ‘let me speak to the DA.’

✵✵✵

Robert Johnson was a short, plump man with a hairline that receded far past his ears even if he had trimmed it down to hide the rate at which it had disappeared. It also struck Austin that the man might do well to size up in pants, his belt creating a distinct overhang of stomach that wasn’t hidden as he’d removed his suit jacket and stood up as he entered, offering a hand to Austin as he came towards him.

Nevertheless he was polite, offering him a drink which Austin politely declined, too eager to thrust his newly constructed case file under his nose. He had known it was a risk bypassing his commanding officer but he had wanted to get more impartial eyes on the thing before he was given an outright no. And by all accounts Johnson was far more amenable than his Captain even if he was pouring over every sheet in the manila folder with a sceptical brow and a wince. As he let out another sigh Austin couldn’t help himself and leant in trying to skim the bit he was reading upside down as he said, ‘I know what you’re going to say.’

‘You do?’ the man asked cautiously.

‘It’s barely a case,’ Austin replied.

‘It’s shit quite frankly,’ he replied, throwing the flap closed as he relaxed back in his chair. His tone took Austin off guard. Because it wasn’t unfriendly. It wasn’t a flat-out refusal but it spoke the truth which didn’t beg much hope for what he was intending.

‘Bobby,’ Austin sighed, ‘he did it. I know it. You know it. God the whole precinct knows it-’

‘And that don’t make a case,’ Bobby sighed, leaning forward and interlacing his fingers when he noted the downtrodden look on the detective’s face, ‘look I want him locked up believe me I do. He ain't exactly good for the city but I don’t see how it’s feasible. Not with that you’ve got. I mean fingerprints? A missing gun that matches the make of one of his and no alibi except his friends word-’

‘What about the fact the dead guy was banging his wife,’ Austin pressed.

‘It’s motive but he’ll just say he didn’t do it and your evidence doesn’t back it up that he didn’t. Besides you can't prove there definitely was an affair. A picture don’t mean nothing, not really. And even if you could all it’d take would be for her to deny it or him to say he never knew about it,’ Bobby reasoned.

‘What about if she’s willing to testify?’ Austin rebutted, making the older man sit up in his chair with intrigue, ‘she knows he did it Bob. He did it to punish her and she's willing to testify to that.’

‘Well a jury would lap that up,’ Bobby smiled, ‘get her in to make a statement…what?’ he asked, seeing the way Austin’s smile dimmed.

‘We can't.’

‘You’re shitting me,’ Bobby scoffed.

‘We can't include her,’ he replied, leaning forward to press the folder onto the desk as his colleague tried to hand it back, feeling the case dissolve. With the blonde's insistence he hesitated, ‘not forever just not yet. We need to build the case around our evidence. Pick his side of the story apart one by one and then by the time he’s on the stand there’ll be enough circumstantial evidence surrounding him that slapping a motive on top of it will make it clear as day.’

‘And if she backs out?’ Bobby challenged.

‘She won't,’ Austin affirmed though the gaze on him remained hesitant, ‘I saw the look in her eyes Bob. She won’t back out.’

‘Oh yeah and how do you know? What’d she do whisper sweet promises in your ear like she did the dead guy,’ Robert said drily. Austin fought the urge to roll his eyes as he said, ‘she told me the truth.’

‘And you trust her?’ he asked, raising a sceptical eyebrow.

‘I do,’ Austin replied truthfully. After all what other choice did he have?

When the doubt in the other man’s eyes didn’t fade he sighed and took the manila folder from him, placing it on his lap as he leaned closer, begging him to see his point of view as he said, ‘look I know it’s risky. I know the case will rely on her and she’s not the kinda witness you want to back but from what I can tell she’s for real about this thing. She knows that this is her only way out. She knows without us she’s trapped which is why we have to play this right. It’s why we can’t expose her sooner than needed. Anything before that would ruin her situation heck it might even wind up with her dead. She has to trust us to the finish line.’

‘And that’s the stand?’ Robert probed.

‘Hopefully,’ Austin said, praying his case would hold enough water to even get to trial.

‘It’ll need more circumstantial,’ Robert said.

‘Definitely,’ Austin agreed.

‘And we need to pick apart whatever they spin,’ he added.

‘I’m sure we could get one of them to break form,’ Austin promised, ‘and if we get all that and then hit ‘em with an affair narrative it’ll swing a jury.’

‘You might be right,’ the other man said, rubbing his hand along his stubbled skin as he pondered it before he looked at Austin, uttering his declarations, ‘we’re gonna need concretes. Circumstantial too but something that’s undeniable. Something a hotshot defence attorney can’t pick apart.’

‘I’m sure once we have a comparison the finger prints will match. And I’ll find out more about the gun,’ Austin assured.

‘Then it’s a case of looking at the night in question. You’ll need to have his entourage in at the same time mind, see if their stories align before they can speak to one another. Probably the whole staff,’ he sighed. Austin didn’t notice his lack lustre orders because he was so happy that someone was finally listening to him. That the boys at the precinct would have to help on something they had deemed an impossible feat. That he’d been right to trust his gut on this one.

His happiness only faded as he reached the door ready to head back to work and heard his name called. He paused, not closing the door he was holding in the hopes Robert wouldn’t want to keep him much longer. He had work to do after all.

‘Sir?’ he asked, hoping respecting authority would make the exasperated look on the man’s face fade.

‘I’ll back you on this but don’t think I don’t know that this is a powder keg ready to go off,’ he warned.

‘I know sir,’ Austin nodded, ‘thank you.’

‘Don’t thank me,’ Robert snorted.

‘Why not?’ Austin asked.

‘Because I’m not doin’ it for nothing,’ he said rolling his eyes as Austin’s brow furrowed, ‘don’t worry I ain’t dirty. In fact I’m one of the ones that’s not searching for a reason to look the other way.’

‘I’m not sure I follow,’ Austin chuckled weakly.

‘You said to do this we’re gonna have to help the wife right?’ he asked.

‘Yeah,’ Austin hesitated.

‘Fine. I’ll help the wife but if we’re gonna poke the bear I want something in return,’ he said.

‘What?’ Austin asked curiously, pushing the door just so it clicked onto the latch. It wasn’t fully closed, one gust of wind from the open window would no doubt blow it gently open but it was enough that their voices didn’t travel into the corridor. Whatever the man was going to proposition him for his ears only.

‘Tip offs.’

‘Tip offs?’ Austin questioned.

‘If we’re gunnin’ for Presley we might as well aim for the entire structure. He won’t crumble without his friends goin’ first. Believe me I and many before me have tried,’ Robert said but Austin wasn’t sure he understood.

‘Sir?’ was all he asked.

‘Keep her close and make sure she’s willing to talk about more than just this Tony guy. He’s our in but by god if I ain’t gonna make sure we bring them all down.’

ELVIS TAGS

@girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley @18lkpeters @velvetelvis @jaqueline19997 @elvispresleyxoxo @amydarcimarie @everythingelvispresley @elvispresleywife @lillypink @richardslady121 @louisejoy86 @ccab @i-r-i-n-a-a @lettersfromvenus @artlesson8892 @presleyenterprise

AUSTIN TAGS

@purejasmine@caitlin1996

[extreme-deals-of-the-day]

Revamp Your Look: Men's Trending Styles This Season

Picture this: You're strolling down the street, your confidence level skyrocketing, as passersby can't help but take a second glance.

Why? Because you've just revamped your look with the season's trending styles for men. It's not just about throwing on what you first grab from your wardrobe; it's about making a statement, expressing your unique identity, and feeling utterly invincible in your skin.

Let's dive into the heart of men's fashion this season, where being ordinary is the only faux pas. The fashion runway has spoken, and the streets are its echo chamber, reverberating with bold patterns, a revival of classic cuts, and a daring mix of textures that challenge the mundane.

We're seeing a renaissance of the '90s vibe intertwined with futuristic minimalism, creating a paradoxical harmony that somehow makes perfect sense.

First off, oversized everything. And I mean, everything. From tees that drape like togas of the modern urban warrior to blazers that whisper "I borrowed this from a giant and rocked it better." It's a nod to comfort without sacrificing style, making a statement that you're too cool to be confined by traditional fits.

Then, there's the triumphant return of the pastel palette. Think lavender, mint green, and soft peach making their way onto jackets, trousers, and even sneakers.

These aren't just colors; they're a rebellion against the grey monotony of corporate drones. Pairing these with neutral shades can elevate a look from "I guess he dresses okay" to "Who's his stylist, and how do I book them?"

But wait, let's talk about accessories because they're not just an afterthought. They're the exclamation points of your outfit. Bucket hats in abstract prints, chunky sneakers that look like they could defy gravity, and ladies purses that say, "Yes, I carry my life around, but make it fashion." It's about finding that perfect balance between utility and aesthetics.

Now, for a twist that's been turning heads: the resurgence of leather, but not as you know it. We're seeing leather shirts, shorts, and even vests that redefine rugged elegance. It's as if the material has been given a second life, softer, more versatile, and definitely more breathable, making it a surprisingly practical choice for those looking to add a bit of edge to their ensemble.

Layering is another art form that's been perfected this season. It's not just about staying warm; it's about creating a visual interest, a depth to your outfit that invites onlookers to take a moment to appreciate the complexity.

A mesh shirt under a crisp suit jacket, a lightweight trench over a hoodie, the possibilities are endless, and the rulebook? Non-existent.

Footwear has also taken a leap into the limelight with bold choices that can make or break an outfit.

We're seeing a departure from the safe confines of traditional leather shoes to more adventurous options like high-top sneakers in neon colors, suede loafers in unexpected hues, and even sandals paired with formal wear for those daring enough to tread the line between casual and dressy.

In the realm of men's fashion this season, it's evident that the only rule is there are no rules. It's about experimenting, pushing boundaries, and most importantly, having fun with your wardrobe.

Fashion is, after all, an extension of your personality, and what better way to showcase the multifaceted masterpiece that is you than through your attire?

So go ahead, revamp your look. Embrace the trends, mix them with your signature style, and watch as the world becomes your runway.

Remember, in the grand theater of life, you're the protagonist, and your style is the script that keeps everyone captivated. Let's make this season one for the books, not just in fashion, but in making bold choices that reflect the unique individuals we are.

Discover trending clothes Extreme Deals Of The Day

[mystiika]

@freezegirl — continued from here.

❝ i'm not into labels. ❞

honestly, khione commends warren for not breaking out in hives the moment he stepped through the front door.

(or, you know, straight up turning around and walking away. this is still gwen grayson's neighborhood, after all.)

while khione's parents call their home 'classic, yet modest', khione herself knows damn well that the goossens house is big. bigger than most.

not everyone comes equipped with the ability or the energy to deal with the opulence.

(her parents would have a conniption if they knew about this but last she heard from them, dad was in the azures and mom was in dubai. and, really, this is a study session: medulla's given them a documentary to watch on mad science.)

"cool, pun not intended this time around." khione's laying upside down on the couch. feet in the air, head hanging off the side. very unbecoming, because a goossens is a goossens inside and outside the house. very pippi longstockings. "i think it takes a lot of strength and mental fortitude to do that."

khione doesn't have such strength. at least, she doesn't think so.

"i've always leaned into the labels people gave me: the perfect daughter, a strong cryo user, the ice princess. it's always been easier to just go along with it instead of pushing back to challenge them."

that, and khione's always been a people pleaser.

"do you maybe want to stay for dinner? i could go for some indian food, to be honest. i mean, you know, the documentary was terrible but i like to think that my selection of movies isn't."

he'll admit, when he received the invite he hadn't expected the scale of her place. he'd recognised her last name from the start, but it's difficult to really picture what that actually entails. not that it bothered him, his expression calm as it gets, though it was still hard not to stare around him. his mother's family was better off than most people realise but his mother hated the idea of an oversized home so he'd only ever been in a grandiose house because of his maternal grandparents. & even then, they never cared for him ( or rather more accurately by extension of his father ) so he could count on one hand the number of times he'd been over. 

still, if they were going to pair up for school work he'd much rather go to kie's place than his own — something about inviting someone over felt a little too uncomfortable.

❝ people stick the labels they want on me no matter what i do, ❞ albeit they were more negative than those khione's, but they were ones he'd been given regardless. ❝ people are fucking stupid, it's not worth the effort. ❞ he hates the labels, good or bad. the sins of the father will be passed on to his children, he thinks to himself. but he's always been quick to anger which only fed into things. he wouldn't call it strength, it's just what was necessary for him.

❝ sure, ❞ he's confident his mom would have no issues with him staying out longer. he hadn't mentioned it was a girl's home but that was more to avoid annoying, pointed questions than it was out of worry she wouldn't allow it. she wasn't a helicopter mom exactly but rather just a bit too nosy for his liking. ❝ i'll eat anything spicy. ❞ besides, the idea of an actually decent movie as a palette cleanser sounded pretty good right about now. ❝ i'll do anything but romance. i've never seen the notebook & kind of want to keep it that way. ❞ not that he expected khione to suggest one, but he figured he may as well rule it out now. ❝ —what do you usually go for? ❞

[charliepipedesigner]

Contemporary Research into Competitor Brands - Major Project

Thinking about subcultures that could associate with my concept, I found a pair of headphones that have been advertised towards snowboarding. Skullcandy collaborated with Burton (a snowboard manufacturing company) to provide a product that challenges the traditional appearance of headphones within a specific environment in order to stand out and to make the design speak for itself.

One ear cup was designed to look like a generic pair of headphones, whilst on the other side there's a cool cheetah spots design with a pink gradient and orange cushion. This concept is based on the idea of being outside in the wild as a motivational experience for the target audience. Even the family of products have the same theme across each head devices. It pushes the boundaries of product design with a unique conceptual meaning to connect the headphones with those who are prepared to take the next step further in outside activities. This is also an example of a pair of headphones where you can listen to music whilst doing an outdoor activity, and remaining aware of the surroundings. Having this subcultural focus group works for the messaging strategy and branding off the product that's been applied here. However, whilst it may be attractive to this audience, for the regular headphone user it may be too attractive if your intentions are to buy a device that has a good audio quality and other functional options. If there was an option to change the colour palette, style (animal print), or even having the headphones fully covered in the art work or none at all, it would appeal to a wider audience. I can take advantage of this by allowing my target audience to choose whatever visual element they want through a service (most likely an app).

The web page promoting the product has also featured the cheetah pattern in the background to make the headphones stand out whilst displaying headers and information about the functional aspects. There are some nice dark background with tropical plantation illustrations to represent the wildness of the headphones, and to contrast with the vibrant gradient.

There is even an influencer partnerships to expand the reach and connection with their target audience. For instance, they used an Olympic gold medalist in Anna Gasser to represent the consumer within the subculture by modelling her with the product.

In conclusion to this contemporary research, this competitor brand and product has helped me to understand how to resonate with a target audience and their values to convey individual expressiveness. The tone of the brand will determine the feel of the product/service, with support of an ad campaign.

[heartbellamy]

hello my darlings! it’s that time of year again, where everything is pink and fluffy and heart-shaped. last year i did a countdown series of some of my favorite ships, which was challenging but fun! but this year i thought i might do something a little more interactive. that’s where you come in!

this celebration is a little mix of a follow forever and a creator game. the part where you come in is down below! it’s a mix of popular content creator memes and some extra goodies i threw in for fun, and all you have to do is pick whatever one calls to you and send me an ask with the mentioned information, and voila, you’ll get a custom fanwork! how fun is that? not only is it a way to give back to my little community, but it also strengthens my creativity, so i think that’s a win-win, no? plus there’s options for both visual and written content, woo! ✨

take a look below and then send something in here!

color palette meme: send me 🎨 + a color palette and a character, ship, show, movie, etc. and you’ll get a gifset inspired by it timestamp roulette: send me ⏱ + an episode or movie and you’ll get a gifset of random moments make me choose: send me 👯 + two (or more) characters, ships, episodes, shows, movies, etc. and you’ll get a gifset of my fave! wardrobe meme: send me 👗 + a character, movie, or show and you’ll get a gifset of my favorite outfit superlative meme: send me 📚 + a superlative (best smile, cutest couple, etc.) and you’ll get a gifset of who i think best fits the theme writing prompt: send me 🖋 + a prompt for a one-shot fic! can be as detailed as you want, as long as you include the ship, character, fandom, etc.

as for the follow forever part of this post, i suspect this might get a little long, so i’ll be putting it underneath the cut! but don’t worry, i love you all imensely and am so happy you’re here. i might get mushy, but hey, valentine’s is a good excuse right?

love fest aka follow forever is down below!

@togetherkru my darling stef! or as i call you in my head, my partner in crime clarke. first of all, i’m so thankful and lucky to have you over at @dailyclarkegriffin, i really had no idea what i was getting myself into and i really can’t thank you enough for the help! secondly, i honestly can’t imagine being in this community without someone as wonderful and positive and supportive as you. i’m sure i’ve said it before but you really are such a light in this community and i hope you know how much we appreciate you! a sunflower for a sunflower 🌻💛✨

@bellamyblake iva, i can’t express how grateful i am for the support you’ve given me from the start. whether it’s my own creations or bcso or just a chat now and then, you’ve always been around to support me and even offer me kind words when i wasn’t at my best, and i hope you know that truly means a lot to me! as someone who came back to the t100 fandom later on, it could feel a bit like being the new kid coming in during the middle of the semester, but your support has and continues to make me feel included 💙

@klarkegriffin lynn, obviously everything i said about dcg goes for you too, the love and support i got when opening the doors was so lovely and my little clarke partners are just two wonderful people honestly. on top of that, i wanna talk about what you’ve done in the community. i know you do a lot and keep up a steady flow of ways to keep the creativity in the community alive, and i hope you know that it is greatly appreciated. i don’t have to tell you that this fandom can be tough, but the projects you’re involved with have done so much! you’re a wonderful part of the community and i’m glad we have you 💞

@queen-of-the-wallflowers15 i don’t think we’ve actually talked here on tumblr! but it felt silly not to mention you when all the work you and lynn do has helped me and my writing process so tremendously. i honestly don’t know where the bellarke writing community would be if not for you two. bellarke hub has been an absolute godsend for me and my writing process, even when i feel like i’m in a total rut, seeing the prompts and the microfics and everything are really so inspiring and have helped me when i thought i couldn’t even write a single sentence. plus i love all the writing you do yourself! basically this is a big thank you 📚💜

@infp-with-all-the-feelings @carrieeve @spacebell @ninappon @igotbellarkeforthat @bookwormforalways @moreflowersthanweeds @pendragaryen @natassakar my sunflower kru! this is getting long even under the read more so i just wanna mention the bellarke gang that keeps this fandom alive and together, you’re all grand and thanks for including me even though i don’t always show up 😂💗 (sorry if i forgot anyone! i went by my mentions but just know i love and appreciate you all!)

HONORABLE MENTION TO ALL THESE BABES 😍☀️🌻💛✨

@agentsofoakenshiield @andromedabennet @astridandoddsandends @aucelu @behlamy @bellamyblakru @bellamysgriffin @damn-salvatore @divinepairings @emziess @excuseyouclarke @fandomscraziness22 @fearingdark @frecklesandfanfics @gansxythethird @harpermiller @helloeurydice @hey-there-juliet @iheartbookbran @imcristinayang @immortalpramheda @isweartobreathe @izloveshorses @jeanie205 @kateemcintyre @kombellarke @lee-em-dee @loveforbobandeliza @luminouswriter @nakey-cats-take-bathsss @nathanmillers @ohtwilight @pawprinterfanfic @searamour @soulintheskies @sparklyfairymira @star-kovs  @starkzmalik @starsinyourskyes @stealing-jasons-job @superficialseer @travllingbunny @userlexi @whateverthehellhewants @who-needs-reality-anyways @writetheniteaway @xxawalkinwonderlandxx

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

An Emo-pression

Virgil gives Roman an acting challenge. Roman rises to the occasion.

Word Count: 1,235

(Read it on A03!)

-

The mood was light in the living room. Virgil and Roman were chatting, reflecting on some of the work done by the group throughout the previous year. In the middle of it all, the running gag of everyone else doing their best ‘FALSEHOOD’ came up.

“I still think mine was the best,” Roman insisted, tilting his glass toward Virgil for emphasis. “In fact, I’d say I’m one of the best impressionists that don’t feel they have to disguise themselves.”

“I don’t know about that, Princey. Any impression you’ve done of anyone else has been overly flamboyant. If anything, you approach it like you were cast to play them in some crappy spin-off.” Knowing Roman well enough meant that Virgil could wag his finger to time precisely when Roman would react with a horrified gasp at the accusation.

“How DARE you! I’m the ac-tor of the group. My skills are not to be belittled! I merely choose to give my characters a little more energy when I play them, that’s all. And besides! The ‘falsehoods’ were our spin on it, so that can hardly count!”

“Then prove your worth as an actor. Give your best impression of me and prove I could cast you in a movie of my life. High-energy is an instant fail.” The challenge hung in the air for a few moments, allowing Virgil a chance to sip at his own drink in peace. It was a risky move to challenge Roman’s bravado, but he couldn’t help the curiosity of seeing what Roman was genuinely capable of as an actor. The prince’s eyes were on his drink, focused as he weighed his options.

“I’ll do it.”

-

Roman paced in a small circle in the living room, flapping his hands to try and shake off any extra energy building in him. Though it was nothing more than a small dare, he wanted to take it as seriously as an audition. It would be as good as - no, better! - than any other acting role he had taken on lately. If he were to play an emo, he’d play the broodiest emo of them all! He glanced at Virgil, who had perched on the arm of the couch. Even if the other looked relaxed, Roman knew he was being watched closely.

“Well?”

“Give me a second. I’m nearly ready. I need to be sure I can be the most miserable of emos.” Roman stopped with his back to Virgil. A long, slow breath was taken to steady himself. He turned, white jacket shifting into a generic, black hoodie. The body language flipped instantly as Roman slouched. A hand quickly moved to undo part of his hair and let it fall over one eye before he folded his arms. This was a challenge Roman was rising to, letting the ‘role’ shine in every aspect of his presentation. Nowhere was this clearer than when Virgil looked Roman in the eye.

Roman was normally animated in his facial expressions - second only to Thomas himself. Right now, there was no trace of that. Instead, his eyebrows were low, his eyes half-lidded as though exhausted. A frown pulled the corner of his lips down in a slight pout that conveyed his distaste with the world and everything that had colour in it. He even had conjured black eyeshadow to add to the part. He almost looked like he spent too much time in the darker corner of Thomas’ mind again, only less panicked.

Virgil had to hand it to Roman - he was impressed.

“Hey, look at that. The prince can be sullen for once in his life. There might be hope for you yet.” Virgil, realising he had sat forward in interest, forced himself to fall back against the couch again.

“I have to change my mindset to channel my inner turmoil,” Roman answered in a low, monotonous tone, “And that includes having three key phrases in my head at all times: ‘angst’, ‘no one can understand me’, and ‘this eyeshadow isn’t dark enough to reflect the darkness of my soul’. ” There was a twitch in Roman’s lips, one Virgil realised was an attempt to not break character with the smugness of a compliment. It was a cliché impression, but what was Virgil himself if not an emo stereotype?

“You’ve nearly got the part, but you can’t make your eyeshadow purple. So I think I’ll have to skip over you. Sorry, princey.” A flimsy excuse given by Virgil to try and backpedal. He wasn’t used to showing how he cared for Roman or dropping his guard like this. A compliment was on the tip of his tongue about how having his hair out in a loose style really suited the prince. He had to stop himself before it got out of hand. It was better to give a rejection and let Roman sulk instead of having to deal with that.

However, Roman had other ideas.

The emo look remained as he broke character. An eyeshadow palette dropped neatly on his hand following a flick of the wrist. It was well-used, leading Virgil to believe it was one from Roman’s personal collection. He popped it open and showed it to Virgil to show the reds, oranges, yellows and purples of the sunset-inspired set.

“TRY ME, BRENDON UREEK!”

The outburst took Virgil by such surprise, he burst out laughing. A hand clamped over his mouth to try and stifle them, but it was to no avail.

“What’s the matter? I think ‘Purple Bitchberry’ would be an excellent shade! Much more fitting than ‘You’ve Got to Pink A Blossom or Two’ if you ask me. Or I could go wild! Experiment with a shade I’ve never used called ‘Night at the Mauve-soleum’ -”

“Oh my God stop, these are terrible!” Virgil tried to counter in a serious manner, only for another round of giggles to knock that plan out the window. His laughs only grew in strength, his own eyeshadow began to glimmer into a dark purple. Nothing as vivid as the time after the mall encounter, but Roman thought it to be like the last sparkle of purple in the night sky. So caught up in a round of laughter was Virgil, he missed the way Roman stopped the teasing and looked on with admiration and a smile.

“Yeah, you’re right. I should try and come up with better names. But if there was to be a movie of your life, you should play the lead role. No one can be you better than you, I think.” Virgil’s eyes shot open in time to see Roman give a light shrug. “Maybe you could check if purple eyeshadow suits me sometime. I’m sure I could better look the part of an emo with the right guidance.” Roman gave a half-bow, allowing his look to return to normal.

“You - you’d wanna do that?” Virgil’s question was met with a firm nod from Roman. “And no hidden conditions for me to do something stupid?”

“As much as I’d love to get you properly fitted in royal attire, I know that’s not something you’d want to do. I don’t mind taking a day’s break from my princely looks and duties if it means I get to do so with you.”

Virgil smiled, that purple under his eyes turned a few shades brighter, and Roman knew he was on to something good.

[killian-spey]

Death Would Be Kinder [Ch. 2]

Prev. Ch.

[Drusilla/Spike/Calendar!Reader]

Words: 2276

Fic Concept: Jenny Calendar’s sister spends some “quality time” with the Season 2 Vampire Squad. This chapter takes place during [BtVS S2:E15]

TW/CW: violence, kidnapping, chains?

AN: Idea came from @prose-for-hire ‘s submission to the fic title game. Taglist is at the bottom, let me know if you want to be added!

You’d been sitting silently, watching Spike wheel himself back and forth across the factory. If you didn’t know better he looked like he was pacing. In reality, he was probably checking behind the pillars and corners of the factory for any sign of your friends. It seems the vampires were expecting Buffy to come looking for you. As the time dragged on, your suspicions became reality; Buffy had prioritized the threat of the Judge over saving you. You had to admit, it stung a little, but it was only logical.

Spike peeked his head into each doorway adjoining the main factory floor. You could tell he was getting restless. You contemplated your odds carefully before you decided on taking a calculated risk.

“You lose a sock?” you yelled.

“Did I what?” Spike wheeled back into the room, an odd expression on his face.

“I asked if you lost a sock.” You paused, his intense glare caught you off-guard. “You know… Because of all the pacing. And popping your head in and out of every room in the place. Somebody’s going to think you lost a sock.”

“Well, I didn’t.” He chuckled a bit before going quiet again and stalking around the factory in his wheelchair. You nodded to yourself, deciding to quit while you were ahead. After that, the only sounds left in the factory were the spinning of wheels and an occasional bumping of door frames and frustrated curses.

It had only been a couple hours of his pseudo-pacing before Angelus and Drusilla stumbled their way into the factory. Spike took one look at the state Angelus was in and hid a smirk under his hand by scratching his nose.

“Well, you’re home early. Slayer hasn’t even tried swiping the girl yet.”

Spike’s good mood vanished as he watched them come down the steps. Drusilla was beside herself, and for a moment you found yourself feeling bad for her. Then Angelus opened his big fat mouth and you remembered who these people were.

“Yeah, well things didn’t go exactly according to plan, Spikey.” He prowled the room, circling like a big cat before he gravitated towards you. Your nerves peaked and you swear you saw a glint of pride behind Angelus’ eyes as he heard your heart pick up. He stepped within arms’ reach of you and sneered.

“What I can’t figure out is, why would she abandon you like this?”

“Where’s your big blue friend?” You swallowed your anxiety and stared up at him in challenge, you weren’t going to tell him a goddamn thing. Might as well give yourself a fighting chance. If he figured it out, you were dead already. You were going to be careful, of course, but that didn’t mean you were going to let him win.

Angelus roared, grabbing your face by the jaw. He was suddenly wearing his game face front and center. ‘Buffy really rattled him, huh?’ You remained stoic, as statuesque as you could muster. If you had misjudged his mood, this might be one of your last moments alive.

Drusilla had floated her way over, leaning into Angelus and hugging his arm to her side. Your staring contest interrupted, Angelus pulled away from you. You took the free moment away from the spotlight to run your fingers against the grain of the armrests, trying to ground yourself in the feeling of the wood underneath you. Your panic was bubbling to the surface, tension and pressure building in your ribcage. You caught Spike’s knowing glance towards you as your eyes flickered between the vampires. You dropped your eyes to the floor, frozen as Drusilla subtly coaxed Angelus away from you. Before long, Angelus had stormed out of the factory again, mumbling about sending Buffy a message.

You were grateful and more than a little stunned. Drusilla saved your life. In her own, subtle way she’d dismantled Angelus’ rage and directed it somewhere else. She’d spun him out of the factory towards Buffy with little more than a subtle flirtatious gesture. You practically gawked at her as she made her way into Spike’s lap. She had these men wrapped around her finger and they didn’t even know it.

Well, maybe Spike knew, but he certainly didn’t mind. He was running his fingers through Drusilla’s hair, comforting her as he spoke.

“If you like the hostage so much, maybe you should have a little fun, Ducks.” He wrapped an arm around Drusilla’s waist to steady her as he wheeled towards you, continuing. “She was supposed to be the distraction for the Slayer, after all. That is what went wrong with the plan, wasn’t it?”

Drusilla lifted her head, gears turning as she looked between Spike and you. Your mind rushed with your fears of what she was contemplating. You didn’t put it past them for ‘playing’ to mean something rather unpleasant for you. Drusilla hummed under her breath excitedly, springing from Spike’s lap and practically skipping out of the room. Spike nodded at you, raising his eyebrows as if to say “Hey look, I fixed it!” and wheeled himself into a good position to watch from, a smug grin on his face.

Drusilla returned with two fistfuls of chains and your heart dropped. She fussed with them somewhere behind you and left the rest in a pile as she ducked off again to the other room. Spike flicked his eyes between the chains and his girl curiously, but said nothing as she flurried about the factory. When she returned, she was holding a long carrying case and a small over-the-shoulder bookbag. She dropped them beside the chains and left again without a word.

“Ducks, what is all this stuff?”

Spike called out to her and wheeled over to the bags. He unzipped one when she didn’t answer. You couldn’t see into the bag from your position and Spike’s exasperated reaction didn’t help you either.

Drusilla returned one final time, holding a large blank canvas in each hand. The left was maybe a 20”x24” and the right was maybe a 24” square. (50cmx60cm or 60cm square).

“Which one does the artist like best?”

You paused, unsure if there was a right answer. After a couple moments you pointed weakly to the left canvas. Drusilla smiled at you and put the square canvas down. Spike scoffed as Drusilla set up an easel from the carrying case and put the bookbag on a table beside it.

She dragged the chains over to your chair and kneeled, carefully untying the knots around your right leg. You studied her face; she bit her tongue lightly as she worked, pulling at the ropes with deft, perfectly manicured fingers. After she’d untied your legs and shackled them, she let your arms off the armrests.

She took your hands in hers and pulled you up to stand for the first time in almost a day. You scanned her expression and glanced backwards towards the easel, then back to her with trepidation. She glided you in front of the daunting white canvas and left you, sinking backwards and sitting in Spike’s lap.

You stood, dumbfounded at the prospect of Drusilla wanting you to paint, of all things. She seemed unimpressed by your inaction after a few moments, and had begun whispering into Spike's ear. He'd leaned into her, pulling her closer and snickered at what must have been a rather amusing comment. He flicked his eyes at you through his lashes, a predatory glint flashing behind his eyes as his smirk grew. He straightened in his seat with satisfaction, head held high.

“Paint for the lady or get eaten. Your choice.”

Drusilla’s eyes wandered back to you and provided no comfort, but then again, why should it? You turned back to the canvas, feeling both their eyes staring at you. A calming breath later, you assessed the materials on the table.

The canvas bag she'd brought had a full set of oil paints- far nicer than you'd ever been able to afford. You didn't dare think of the poor shopkeeper she'd probably killed for them. A person just like your Uncle. He was just another obstacle in these people’s way, and for that he was murdered. You shoved the paints to one side of the small table and began assessing the tools. A somewhat rudimentary selection of spatulas and brushes. You could make do just fine with these.

You set up a palette with some blue, red, white, and black to start. A color palette often was the first thought you gave to a painting. This painting would be mostly blues, purples, and grays. Without turning your head, your eyes flicked towards the vampires just off your left shoulder in the periphery. You had never really let anyone sit and watch you paint. It was hard enough showing a finished piece to someone other than family.

You mixed a deep lilac and raised a palette knife to the canvas. You paused, unsure where to place the landscape. The creeping feeling of being watched was throwing you. The white snow canvas was taunting you, paralyzing you. But you weren't about to let it win. Any of them. You closed your eyes and just swiped the palette knife confidently in a bold first stroke. Now you had a puzzle. How does this fit into a landscape? There was no going back now, it had to work.

It was a mountain slope. The hue you used was suitable for a distant fixture seen from a twilit glade. You could lean into that, thinking on how to keep the morbid whimsy of the piece consistent as a theme. You blocked out the clearing and plotted out the forest behind and around it. It fell silent in the factory as you worked, only the scraping of palette knives and brush strokes echoing in the room. Pieces fell in place as you added gnarled willows at the tree line, white ghost pipes and fungi crawling on the foliage, and sickly green fireflies in the weeping branches and crooked thorn bushes. You didn't like how the overall feel of the piece was so damp and dreary. It felt too muted, too blue for what you'd envisioned. You added nettles to the glade in a redder purple, almost magenta, to tie the piece back into the mystical tone you wanted. A few more touches, a ray of silver moonlight here or there, and you stepped back. You contemplated the piece, for some reason feeling unfinished. The glade felt completely untouched, too alone by itself.

You almost jumped when you heard Drusilla shift off Spike’s lap behind you. You froze, dropping your gaze to the floor, unsure of her intentions. With three clicks of her heels against the concrete flooring, she stopped just behind you. So close you would have felt her breath on your neck if she were human. She leaned forward and pulled your hair behind your ear. She placed one hand on your shoulder and raised your head with a finger under your chin, guiding your eyes back to your work.

“Don’t you like it?”

“It’s not bad, actually.” Spike wheeled forward a pace or so to take a closer look at it. Drusilla still seemed to be waiting for your own answer. You studied it again silently.

It did feel telling, in an odd sort of way. It was invisibly and indescribably alive, despite the darkness and isolation. Could be a good metaphor for vampires... Alive and free only after their own deaths. Sure, they may not exactly live up to society’s expectation of a good neighbor, but you couldn’t say they let being dead keep them from living.

Still, the painting felt unsatisfactory, felt incomplete. You shook your head and pondered. You drew up a couple new colors, a ghostly blue and a red-brown clay. You loaded a palette knife with the clay tone and hovered over the painting, indecisive. The central piece as of now was a large, twisting willow on a small inclined mound of earth. The whole painting felt like background to an invisible subject. Nothing tied the eye to the painting, there was nothing to follow. No movement in a living place.

Drusilla took the palette knife from your hand and set it down. She pulled you lightly to step away from the painting, lightly petting your hair.

“Let it rest, you’ll do more later. With a clear mind,”

You let a heavy sigh escape your lungs. She was right. If you kept going now, at the end of your rope, you’d risk doing something that detracted from the painting entirely. You jerked your head up at a loud scraping sound from above you. Angelus had swung the door open on the mezzanine of the factory. He had a vicious grin and a playful look in his eyes, leaning on the guardrail and looking down at the three of you.

“Did you have fun with the Slayer, then?” Spike called up to him.

“Oh, she makes it so easy!” Angelus threw himself at the spiral staircase and rushed down them with glee.

“I barely had to lift a finger to throw a wrench in her little puppy problem.”

Drusilla twitched her head and glided towards him. She was staring at his face, fixated on something you didn’t pick up on. She swiped her thumb across the corner of his mouth and brought it to her own lips.

“Did you bring any home, Angel? I taste a young one on you.”

“Not today, darlin’. Besides, you have that one.” Angelus gestured to you and sauntered off, calling back as he left. “She wasn’t really any use anyway.”

[Next Chapter Soon!]

Tags: @prose-for-hire @soggy-enchilada @misselsbells06

[feralphoenix]

NO ONE IS HAPPY WITH THIS: Leitmotif & Sound Palette In “Sealed Vessel”

whats UP hk fandom i am back with—“more picante takes?” WOW YES HOW DID YOU KNOW!!!

CONTENT WARNING FOR TONIGHTS PROGRAM: today we are discussing the hollow knight boss fight, and all that entails for all the characters involved. relatedly this post does not have anything nice to say about the pale king, so if you’re very protective of his character, you may want to skip it.

FURTHERMORE, i would like to iterate that this essay is working from a place of compassion for ghost, hollow, radiance, AND hornet, because every single one of them is miserable at this point in the game and doesn’t want the events of this boss fight to be happening at all. this post is not an appropriate place to dunk on ANY of them. if you want to do that, please do it elsewhere.

thanks for your understanding.

ALSO, AS USUAL: if youre from a christian cultural upbringing (whether currently practicing, agnostic/secular, or atheist now), understand that some of what i’m discussing here may challenge you. if thinking thru the implications of radiance and the moth tribe’s backstory is distressing for you, PLEASE only approach this essay when youre in a safe mindset & open to listening, and ask the help of a therapist or anti-racism teacher/mentor to help you process your thoughts & feelings. just like keep in mind that youre listening to an ethnoreligiously marginalized person and please be respectful here or wherever else youre discussing this dang essay, ty

NO ONE IS HAPPY WITH THIS: Leitmotif & Sound Palette In “Sealed Vessel”

A while back @grimmradiance​ made a lovely essay about comparing and contrasting Hollow’s moveset in their Hollow Knight and Pure Vessel boss fights and using what can be gleaned from the differences to speculate about their psychology. (This essay is currently their pinned, but I’ll attach a link in a reblog.) It is extremely good, and it made me want to look at the Hollow Knight boss fight my own self through one of my own areas of expertise, meaning music!

As we are all well aware, Christopher Larkin's soundtrack to Hollow Knight rules ass. There are two specific ways in which it rules ass that are relevant to this essay: Leitmotif, and sound palette.

Quick rundown for folks who aren’t familiar with these terms: A leitmotif is a melody associated with a character or event or mood that's incorporated into songs in different ways based on what's happening in the story. Undertale is an example of a game with an incredibly strong use of leitmotif that’s really only possible because Toby Fox is both the composer and the game creator, so he can synchronize the subtleties of the writing with music and scene scripting too.

The phrase “sound palette” can have a lot of meanings, but in this case I’m using it to refer to specific instruments or groups of instruments that are associated with certain characters. If you’ve watched Steven Universe and seen interviews/production commentary by its composer team Aivi & Surasshu, you’ll hear them talking about part of their approach to scoring episodes being how each main character is represented by certain instruments: Steven with the triangle wave, Pearl with jazz piano, and so on.

Hollow Knight is a small team project rather than a one-person show, so Christopher Larkin can’t go quite AS over-the-top with leitmotif integration as Toby Fox can on simple virtue of Team Cherry having to communicate what they want to him. But Larkin is Hollow Knight's sound designer as well as its composer, so he folds leitmotif and character sound palette together with striking use of stems to create a very immersive and cinematic musical experience that enhances HK’s story and gameplay.

This brings us back to the track Sealed Vessel, which has EXTREMELY tight and cinematic sound design and uses leitmotif and sound palette to not just sock players in the feelings during a charged and dramatic boss fight, but also tell us a lot about what Hollow and Radiance are experiencing emotionally, especially with the gameplay in mind.

So, let’s play the soundtrack version of Sealed Vessel (and some other stuff) and talk about what’s going on in the game during it!

You may want to get out your copy of the OST or visit Christopher Larkin’s Bandcamp page so that you can listen along.

LEITMOTIF & SOUND PALETTE

Before we actually get into analyzing Sealed Vessel, let’s talk about the involved characters’ leitmotifs/sound palettes so we know what we’re listening for.

Both of these things are easiest to identify when characters have a distinct theme song. Ghost does not. However, the main theme of Hollow Knight (see: the title track, Hollow Knight) is used as a leitmotif for the vessels as a whole. Most pieces involved with a vessel character include this leitmotif somewhere. For instance, you can find this leitmotif and variations on it in Broken Vessel’s boss theme. The Vessel leitmotif is led by a cello solo here, so we can identify that the cello is the central part of Broken Vessel’s personal sound palette.

When the Vessel theme is associated with Ghost in specific, it tends to be performed by viola and/or piano, as it is on the title track and in other places like the opening cinematic.

Moving on to Hollow, their specific sound palette is established not in Sealed Vessel but in Pure Vessel, their pantheon boss theme. (Sealed Vessel was composed first, since the Godmaster DLC didn’t drop until over a year after HK’s initial release, meaning Pure Vessel was reverse-engineered/extrapolated from relevant parts of Sealed Vessel. But we’ll get into that later!)

The major instrumental fixtures in Pure Vessel are choir and tubular bells (i.e., those dramatic vertical fellas that sound like church bells or a carillon), with some soft background instrumentation: bass drum, woodwinds (appropriately led by flute in the main melody’s “falling motion” - flute is the centerpiece of TPK’s sound palette), strings, and high/mid brass. Hollow’s overall sound palette has a very Christian choir-esque sound (in the Pure Vessel theme this is very idealized and saintly: soft and slow and tragic) and the beginning of their leitmotif has a very distinctive climbing melody that mirrors their ascent from the Abyss. The Unbearable Vesselness Of Being leitmotif is absent from the Pure Vessel track.

Meanwhile, Radiance’s boss theme is a very fun expression of her character upon which Larkin evidently went ham. Her sound palette is expressed through full orchestra (plus choir and pipe organ) that has a special emphasis on the bass part of the brass section, which does not see much use in the HK soundtrack. Her leitmotif has also got cute and distinctive touches: It’s full of triplets to match her tiara-looking antennae, and also has a repeated “fluttery” pattern of background sixteenth notes as countermelody, often spiraling downwards.

The majority of the piece is loud and bombastic and in a minor key to play up the “resplendent and terrible” wrathful aspect of herself Radi is pushing during this section of gameplay, a very quintessentially moth intimidation tactic: Try to look as scary as possible to keep your enemies from messing with you, since you’re not built for fighting. These blasts of intensity from the brass section match Radiance’s strategy of Overwhelm You With Bullet Hell Spam To Make Up For Lack Of Battle Experience/Poor Aim. But in between said intensity spikes you can hear traces of softer instrumentation and major key, little glimpses of a gentle warmth we can otherwise only infer from her backstory and the implications of Moth Tribe lore.

0:00 - 0:41 - OPENING AMBIANCE

The Sealed Vessel track begins with the ambiance of the Black Egg Temple’s interior: The faint tones of the glowing seals we hear when we pass by them, the only light in a pitch-black world besides the floor lighting up under Ghost’s feet.

Then a slow string tremolo fades in, slowly growing louder. In the track new notes join the tremolo progressively, while in-game a violin joins the anticipatory chord every time you snap one of Hollow’s chains. Which, may I say: A+++++++ sound design!!!!!! Rules ass!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The tremolo reaches a peak in dynamics - all three characters present are extremely tense - and then cuts off to allow for Hollow’s boss battle opening, i.e. Radiance screaming. Team Cherry kindly demarcates each phase of the battle with a Radi yell.

0:43 - 1:39 - PHASE 1: HOLLOW ON AUTOPILOT

Phase 1 opens immediately with Hollow’s leitmotif in bells, but with brass, piano, and percussion backing them up; grand and tragic. In the background the bass section of the orchestra's strings flutter in a repetitive pattern of 16th notes, i.e. Panicky Radi Noises. The violins harmonize with Hollow's leitmotif as it climbs, but then join the rest of the string section in fluttering 16th notes, transmuting what in Pure Vessel is the flute leading Hollow back down (8th notes) to a slightly louder “a” from the backseat.

In actual gameplay, the only attacks Hollow uses are their basic nail skills. Building on grimmradiance’s analysis of the window their attacks provide to their psychology, and pairing that with the Pure Vessel leitmotif booming over the metaphorical loudspeakers, we can tell that this is Hollow reacting automatically to a threat the way that their father trained them to. Their conscious mind might still be making dialup noises at Ghost’s sudden reappearance jumpscaring them with murky childhood guilt and trauma, but that’s only let muscle memory take over. Slash, parry, charge and thrust. Their time spent at bee bootcamp (which we can assume because Hornet was trained at the Hive and Hollow’s form while nail fighting is identical to hers on their shared moves) has served them well.

Radiance, meanwhile, has frozen completely for this combat phase, and contributes nothing here except the anxiety of the string section.

As the strings continue to go “a” the piano (Ghost) and woodwinds harmonize on something between Hollow’s personal leitmotif and the Vessel leitmotif in the backdrop.

However at around 1:29ish, the key changes, building into an overall color change for the Sealed Vessel piece.

1:39 - 2:15 - PHASE 2: SHE’S AS SCARED OF YOU AS YOU ARE OF HER

In actual gameplay, the part of Sealed Vessel used for phases 1 and 2 of the Hollow Knight fight is the Entirety of 0:43 - 2:15, possibly because there’s no easy transition spot like there is between phase 2 and phase 3. But the changes to Hollow’s moveset are clearly tied to this specific part of the piece.

Phase 2 is where Radiance pushes herself past her freeze response and starts trying to hit Ghost. Hollow gains two attacks here, which we can tell are Radi because they’re often accompanied by her crying (a softer and more abbreviated sound than her full scream): These two attacks are the Infection blob blast and the Light/Void pillar attack that hits for a full 2 masks damage (which appear to be Radi’s take on Hollow’s Pure Vessel-exclusive moves, their grabby tentacles & silver knife pillars respectively).

In the Sealed Vessel track, this part of the piece is almost entirely Radiance’s fluttering. The strings start by following the descending motion of Hollow’s leitmotif but in 16th notes, then ratchet up to start spiraling down again while straying further from Hollow’s leitmotif. This section ends in a back and forth between hard blasts in a one-two-(rest)-one-two-three pattern and gasps of fluttering between, with piano and low brass building behind it. Eventually the nervous fluttering of the strings becomes less frequent between the blasts: Radiance is inexperienced with fighting and very very afraid, but she’s also FUCKING PISSED and prepared to defend herself.

The OST version of the piece punctuates the break between the first half of the piece and the second with Radiance’s scream.

2:16 - 4:04 - PHASE 3: “I’M HELPING! :)” SAID HOLLOW; “HOLY SHIT PLEASE DON’T,” SAID LITERALLY EVERYONE

Phase 3 opens with Hollow stabbing themself repeatedly, a movement pattern they repeat throughout the phase. It is shocking the first time you see it, and never stops being horrible and sad no matter how many times you do this part of the fight.

Here, Hollow’s mind has finally come back online after their own freeze response, and they choose to destroy themself and bequeath the duty of sealing Radiance to Ghost. Even if they can’t be the one to make their father proud, they can still make sure their directive gets carried out.

Radiance knows exactly what they’re up to and why, and she reacts to this by completely losing her head and mashing buttons in a panic. This is something we see out of her at the ends of her boss fights too, where she’s feeling too threatened and afraid to do anything but spam optic blasts. In the Hollow Knight boss fight this manifests in two horrifying-looking but easy-to-avoid new attacks: The Infection blob sprinkler and the ragdoll.

Ghost does not react visibly because we're in gameplay, but their horror and grief at their sibling’s choice is echoed in the BGM. The Sealed Vessel piece goes soft and sad, with Ghost’s associated viola leading the bass strings in the Unbearable Vesselness of Being leitmotif. At 2:51 the violin comes in with Hollow’s leitmotif, and gradually the choir appears in the backdrop. The ensemble’s overall dynamics build in a slow crescendo, and at the very end of this segment the other instruments begin to join in.

This segment of the piece is also used in phase 4, which occurs if you don't have Hornet’s help or miss your cue to Dream Nail Hollow. Phase 3 ends when Hollow reaches 0 HP; in phase 4 they are for all purposes already dead. But Radiance manifests an extra 250 HP out of terrified, unadulterated FUCK YOU FUCK THIS!!! even though all she can do is get Hollow to fall on their face trying to slash and ragdoll them around. The BGM continues to play as Ghost absorbs Radiance from Hollow and Hollow’s body loses its shape and dissolves into liquid Void.

And there’s one other place in gameplay Sealed Vessel (Unbearable Vesselness of Being) is used: The Path of Pain, the completely evil kaizo-level obstacle course which presumably featured in Hollow’s childhood training, and behind which the Pale King has hidden his last and most terrible secret—that he had realized on some level that Hollow was a kid with feelings who loved him and wanted to make him proud, and condemned them to death despite it all by using them to imprison and torture Radiance as he’d always planned.

The OST version of Sealed Vessel includes the music for both normal ending cinematics, so we’ll be looking at them too.

4:05 - 4:35: ENDINGS 1/2: NO ONE IS HAPPY WITH THIS

In the BGM for The Hollow Knight and Sealed Siblings endings, the Vessel leitmotif is played by violin, viola, and choir while the cellos and contrabasses—and then the brass bass section too—play a slower version of Radiance’s downward spiral. But once Ghost is pierced by the Black Egg’s chains and Radiance’s struggle to free herself ends in failure, the soprano and bass sections harmonize. The animation zooms out of the temple and the seal reforms. They are stuck together now until the end of Ghost’s life. Hooray.

The OST version of the track immediately segues into the BGM for Dream No More.

4:36 - 5:45: ENDING 3: THANKS, I HATE IT

Here, Hornet’s associated instrument, the violin, plays one long sustained note with a few notes of Ghost’s piano alongside as she wakes up.

TPK’s goddamn flute comes in at 5:00 with his leitmotif overpowering the backdrop Vessel leitmotif on piano while Hornet surveys the carnage: The temple has been destroyed, Radiance is dead, and what’s left of Ghost’s corpse is smeared across the floor. The Void may have taken umbrage with his horseshit and unceremoniously vored him, but the motherfucker still got what he wanted in the end; the Pale King has ended the Infection by completing his genocide of the moths, using the children he abused and abandoned as his proxies, and wasting two of their lives. Can I get a hearty THIS SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! in the chat.

Given that Hornet herself is canonically unsure if bringing the fight to Radiance is really a just course of action, one can only imagine how she must feel when she sees the cost of that decision.

Our only real moment of catharsis is in this shit situation comes in at 5:13, where the flute gives way to a solo from Ghost’s associated viola, playing the Vessel leitmotif as the Siblings curl up and sink back into the mountain of their corpses. Goodnight, kiddos. You deserved better, and so did literally everyone involved in this whole stupid boss fight.

This is where the OST version of Sealed Vessel ends. Even without the gameplay and story context it slaps, but now that we’ve taken a look at how this 5:45 piece is wall to wall misery and fear on the part of literally every involved character, hopefully it will have even more impact!

[writingindulgence]

Painting Nails with Gojo Satoru (x reader)

Pairings: Gojo Satoru x (unspecified-gender) reader

Genre: Good friends with some mutual pining, a bit of fluff and a bit of uncertainty, reader has their mind in the gutter for a split second 

Lmao, how long can someone write about painting nails T.T 2800+ words

When you recently mentioned that you had no free time to refresh your nails due to the influx of odd jobs here and there, you didn’t think that it would lead to your long time friend, Gojo Satoru, sneaking into your room at the Tech with a bag full of nail polish.

He was in the middle of laying them out haphazardly onto the coffee table. Colours ranging from neon bright to the darkest of shades stood before your very own eyes on full display. Their shapes were as varied as the palette. Standard round, rectangle shapes, funky stars and fragile butterflies just to name a few. 

The shock of what was transpiring had yet to register in your mind, a dumbfounded look creeping onto your face.

It wasn’t even the first time that this has occurred. Once in a while you would come back from a mission in another city, ready to fall down onto your bed in the one place that you could call home, only to have this excuse for a friend barge in on your time of relaxation. Sometimes, you didn’t inform anyone when you would be back in the hopes of being left alone but he always seemed to find out the best time to annoy you. When you were tired. 

“What the actual fuck are you doing in my room Gojo-san?”, you drop your tattered bag onto the ground before closing the door. 

The feeling of his incoming whines and guaranteed pout had become something of a sixth sense to you now. You thought that maybe he would grow out of it after his teenage years but the gods weren’t as merciful as you once believed them to be. 

“(Y/n)-channnn, why are you so mean to me? I haven’t done anything for you to call me that”, he dramatically groaned out before flopping onto your bed. 

Glancing at the table, you notice that his sudden movement knocked over some of the bottles.  

You also know what he meant by that. You only ever call him ‘Gojo-san’ when he screws up or when you are both in the presence of his students. 

As much as he likes to tease you in front of important people, you aren’t that unprofessional as to disrespect him as an educator in front of the students that he teaches. The kids already make fun of him and if you were to join in at the same time then you would begin pitying the man. 

You walk over to the sprawled lamp post of a human and indicate with your hand to scoot over before proceeding to throw yourself down beside him. 

“What is this about, Toru-kun?”, your eyes lazily scan over the nail polish. Of course you know what is going on but Gojo Satoru is a man that enjoys being humoured. 

Poor Ijichi-kun ends up as the victim of a lot of his whims when you’re away. Scratch that, even when you are around the unfortunate fellow gets bullied like a kindergartner at a playground.

“So~ I’ve noticed that your nails-,”

“I mentioned it.”

“.. have been looking rather-,”

“I mentioned it.”

“..duller than usual so-”,

“I-”, 

His body flew up from the lying position and a hand suddenly came into your view. Before you could do anything, Gojo clamped it over your mouth, an unseen eye-roll definitely going off under his blindfold. 

He wasn’t really irritated but you took it as a win for all the times he irked you in the past month.

“I NOTICED YOUR NAILS LOOKING DULLER THAN USUAL SO I WENT OUT OF MY HUMBLE WAY TO BUY THESE,” he finally lets you go after finishing what he wanted to say.

The sheets under you have become disheveled, your thrashing around to get away and shut his loud mouth in case Principal Yaga hears brought about no results. There was no rule against being in the same room, you weren’t some silly teenagers and even if you were, the Tech wasn’t that strict anyway, but the thought of his disappointing gaze burning into your soul…

Your thoughts are disrupted when Gojo throws two pillows onto the floor. Knowing that there is no escaping this, you dust down your clothes and gracefully sit down. 

Who knows? This may actually turn out to be relaxing. Even if you’re wrong then spending time with friends is precious, no matter the activity. Especially in this line of work. There is no telling when one might hear the news of their comrades’ death. 

Gojo sits on the other free pillow and smiles. “Any colour pulling you in? If not then I would love to recommend, you know, I’m sort of an expert at this.”

You laugh slightly at his confidence before agreeing to his proposal. As long as it’s not too ugly then you really don’t mind what he ends up picking. 

In fact, you trust his judgement when it comes to fashion. His casual outfits always end up taking your breath away. You’re forever glad when he forces you to go along with him to the shopping district. You know your style and what you’re comfortable with but Gojo presents you with something unique every time.

“Hmmmm...then, what about this one?”, the hand that was under his chin as he was contemplating leaves its position and he quickly picks up a (f/c) nail polish. 

The container is cute too, a glass cat face. Though how did he figure out what colour this was with that blindfold? Only Gojo knows. 

You reach out for the item but he leans back and pulls it to his chest. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion. 

“(Y/n), (Y/n), (Y/n)...,” he creates an X with his arms before continuing, “Bzzzt! Did you really think I would be so rude as to leave you alone with that tedious job? Who do you take me for?”. 

He grasps the fabric where his heart is located and fakely sniffles. Oh, so he wants to paint them for you. Figuring out that you may as well indulge in a little care, you extend your hand for him to hold. 

Gojo twists the nail brush open and dips it into the bottle a few times. His tongue is poking out as he tests how much of the liquid is on the brush. You don’t even question how he will paint your nails without seeing properly. Understanding his infinite capabilities has become second nature to you. 

Instead, you focus on the feeling of his hand when it grasps yours. 

It’s bigger and somewhat rougher, though not uncomfortable. Really, it feels secure to have around your own.

Jerking back at your line of thinking, you can feel the heat growing on your face by the second. Calm down there, no need to get ahead of yourself. You’ve held hands many times in the city before so that you don’t get ‘lost’, how is this any different?

“Hey now!,” Gojo grips your hand more firmly than before. 

“Sorry, sorry. I had an itch,” you come up with an excuse and double down when you scratch your shoulder with a free hand. 

He doesn’t say anything in return, there are none of his usual comebacks. That’s suspicious, he always needs to have the last word in no matter what. 

Instead he applies the first stroke of nail polish on one of your nails. 

His movements are steady, no shaking, and he doesn’t miss any spots. The process is...pleasant, being attended to by another. 

He moves on to your second finger, repeating the action from the previous one, applying just as much attention. 

Now that you are sitting still, barely breathing as you look on, his hold has become almost airy. Unless you focused purely on the skin to skin contact, it was as if your hand was levitating. 

Ah, technically he could be using ‘Infinity’ and keeping your hand away but...it made you feel weirdly unhappy. Your mouth tugged down in dissatisfaction unconsciously.

At the same moment, Gojo grasped the next finger on the list, the sudden feeling coming as a surprise. You barely held in the shocked gasp, tingles travelling up your arm. 

He didn’t say anything and continued the procedure. 

You peeked at his face to see if you could read him but there was nothing at all to go off on. No smile, smirk, pout or frown. 

Sheer concentration. 

It wasn’t unwelcome, in fact it was peaceful without the usual banter. And it wasn’t unbearably serious either. If you had to put a word on it then it felt...intimate.‘Wow, what the hell? Chill, he’s only a friend and this is simple nail painting’.

The clock in your room ticked continuously until eventually your fingernails were all finished. It took extra long because Gojo insisted that the proper way to do it was to paint two layers. So in the end you had to sit through another few minutes that honestly felt like an eternity. 

You hoped that you hadn't sweated with how warm it had gotten on your end.

“Alright! It’s your turn (Y/n)-chan,” he made finger guns and pointed them at your bewildered expression. 

“It isn’t fair if only you get this spa worthy treatment, no?”.

“Satoru, I think you overestimate my ability to paint nails. Of course, I do a fantastic job on myself but I am hopeless when it comes to others,” you explain. 

You may have over exaggerated a bit but if this goes on then your thoughts will enter dangerous territory, not that they haven’t already.

Distractions aren’t helpful when you are a jujutsu sorcerer, particularly in the romantic scene. 

Have you daydreamed about such scenarios? Yes. 

Would you like to experience them? Definitely. 

However, what you want and what you can have are at odds with each other.

“Don’t be a bore, come on, come on,” he sticks out his own hand before thinking up something and reaching towards his blindfold. “Let’s make it a challenge. I had such a difficult time so you have to suffer too”. 

He frees his eyesight and stands up. You’re about to follow but he shakes his head and kneels behind you. 

The smooth fabric covers your eyes and the pressure as he tightens the blindfold rubs against the back of your head. This feels like the beginning of a dirty situation-

A resounding smack travels in the enclosed room as you slap your cheeks simultaneously. This isn’t the time nor place.

“I’m accepting my resolve,” you throw out before Gojo can ask you why you hit yourself in the face. 

You hear him shuffle back to the pillow as well as glass tapping against glass. A nail polish bottle is shoved into your unprepared self. “I’m in your hands now,” he laughs stupidly to himself at his own pun. You can’t help cracking a small smile too.

Blindly, you fiddle around in front of you, wanting to start this. Clicking your tongue, you’re about to give out but Gojo finally decides to stop being a prick and gives you his hand. His shakes from laughter make themselves known but you ignore him. 

Unscrewing the bottle cap, you get to work. 

Only, you have to feel around for his fingernail. It’s impossible to hit the target without searching around first. 

You become overwhelmingly aware of the close proximity yet again and your heart skips a beat. The fact that you can’t see anything makes it far worse as your sense of touch becomes more sensitive. Your shaking hand dabs the point where you think the nail polish goes and you begin painting. 

Gojo’s amusement must have stopped too since you don’t hear him chuckling anymore. Is he looking at you? Or is he looking at his poor skin whenever you miss the fingernail? He doesn’t have his blindfold on so his eyes have to be focused on something. 

But what?

The silence becomes unmanageable and the constant skin against skin friction twists your insides. Is it just you? Or does he also think the same way?

“You know, you have pretty eyes. If you start an Instagram page with photos of them then you’ll get a following in no time,” you offhandedly mention to start a conversation. Knowing Gojo he’ll take the compliment, tease you a bit and move on. You shift around in the pillow before progressing onto the other hand, having speedrun the first, before he starts talking.

“That’s not a bad idea. You can do the eyeshadow and we can make some money,” he hums in agreement. The sound of extra cash nearly makes you drool but then a realisation hits you, like a truck an isekai protagonist. If you were to do the eyeshadow then you will no doubt have to be very close to his face. No way.

“On second thought, I don’t think we have the time,” you laugh it off. 

His disagreement comes soon after. 

“Haaaaaaah?! Then why did you mention it?”. His muscles tense, about to pull back to cross his arms but he remembers that you’re in the middle of painting his nails. 

After that, you both fall silent again. 

In the end, you get through the last finger and close the nail polish bottle. You tried your best, having taken your time despite it making you feel a certain way whenever you had to touch him longer than is necessary. 

You get up and reach out to unhook the blindfold but larger hands stop you in your tracks from behind. They pull yours away and drop them at your sides. 

“Allow the amazing gentleman, Gojo Satoru,” he gently takes it off as you stand unmoving. 

When light from the window hits your face, you scrunch your eyelids shut, waiting to adjust to the bright atmosphere. A hand patting down your hair makes them shoot open and you turn around to complain. 

Whatever you were going to say gets caught in your throat as you look up into his light blue eyes. His expression is serene, free of any worries but his eyes seem to be trying to speak a thousand words. 

They too look composed but you get the feeling that he’s trying to communicate something to you.

Swallowing, you clench your hand (conscious of the recently dry nail polish), and place it over your chest. “Satoru..um,” you pause, not fully comprehending what you want to say, or rather, how you want to say it.

Your eyes widen when you notice his hand traveling towards yours. 

Clumsily spinning around, you head for the pillows and shake off the dust that accumulated on them. 

“Thanks for today. I’ll have a nap, since I’m still tired from the flight.” 

You show your gratitude but hide the words your heart wanted to really express. 

You don’t turn around to see his expression. The sound of his blindfold going over his eyes is what you hear first. Then, 

“Don’t worry your sleepy head over it! Sweet dreams, (Y/n)”.

The door opens and closes gently behind you. 

Once you’re sure that he is far down the hallway, you throw yourself onto your bed, put the pillow over your face and scream. Feeling a little foolish, you stop and look over your nails. 

He really did a great job.

-Next Day-

The sun is shining brightly therefore there is no better time to take a walk. Which is why you aren’t surprised when you stumble upon Sukuna’s vessel, Itadori Yuuji. 

The teenager has a tub of ice cream with him. Maybe you should get some too? Gojo is bound to have some in his mini freezer.

“Ah! Hello, (L/n)-san,” the boy waves his hand in greeting and jogs over. 

“Itadori-kun, is it alright for you to be outside like this?,” you ask with concern. 

There are only a few people that know about his current state of being alive. When you heard that he died, you came as fast as possible to comfort Gojo. 

“It’s fine! Everyone is gone and Ijichi-san is on the lookout at the front gate. He’s meant to give me a ring you see”. He looks down.

“Oh! You’ve got some nice nails there,” he points out as he takes a bite out of the dessert. “You match with Gojo-sensei,” he adds after a second.

You pause your appreciative smile at his compliment. Excuse me? 

“Excuse me? Match?,” you prod him to elaborate.

The teenager scratches his cheek. 

“Ehh, but he said the plan was to match all along. Though they don't exactly look the same”.

Your eyes tear up in embarrassment at the turn of events. You’re matching nails? You thought for definite that he would wash them off when he gets back to his room. Not only that but putting the blindfold over your eyes must have been his sly way of making sure that you don't notice they're the same colour. 

Itadori shakes his hands in front of him before bowing. “I-I’m sorry (L/n)-san! I did not mean to insult the way you painted Gojo-sensei’s nails. They are a bit tactless compared to yours but that’s okay,” he apologises profusely, mistaking the root of your shame.

‘That dumbass Gojo Satoru’

[the-starryknight]

ART + DRARRY RECS: ARTIST!DRACO

In many of these fics, Draco’s art practice is a vehicle for his redemption and his healing. It’s also often a symbol of his (growing or established) connection with Harry. He’s often a painter, but this list also includes Draco as a graffiti artist and a burgeoning knitter. I hope you’ll enjoy!

[Fic] Painted Bodies, Painted Minds by Lomonaaren 2008 | M | 3k

Harry keeps interrupting Draco at work, and Draco is getting tired of it.

★ Sexy and funny all wrapped into one, this fic was written by the incomparable Lomonaaren.  Draco being incredible competent at his job was a delight, and Harry’s obvious eagerness made this fic such a treat to read. ★ 

[Fic] Paint It Red by @dictacontrion 2014 | E | 5k

Draco's a graffiti artist with a bone to pick. Harry's the P.I. tasked with catching him. Or, apparently, stalking him all over town, asking a lot of questions, and showing surprising artistic talent.

★ Dicta_Contrion has written some of my favorite Drarry fics, and so it was no surprise that this fic had all of the hot intensity between these two. With snappy dialogue, tension that will keep you on the edge of your seat, and an incredibly creative plot, it’s amazing what Dicta has packed into 5k. ★

[Fic + Podfic] Exposure to Morning Light by Geneva, podfic by create_serenity 2015 | M | 4k, 25 minutes

Harry's taken up photography. Landscapes are great, but his muse beckons.

★ Evidently I was asleep when I made the Artist!Harry list because I slept on this brilliant one! Nearly all the eighth year students are artists in this fic, including Draco and Harry.  And wow, the dynamic between these two is incredible! Geneva has created such vivid images I feel I’m gazing on Harry’s photos myself, and Sivany’s voice brings gorgeous life to this fic. ★    

[Fic + Fic Rec] The Destiny You Sold 🔒 by @tryslora, rec by @dewitty1 2015 | E | 59k

In which Draco knits, Harry makes wands, and things get very tangled up between them.

★ This fic is dripping with shared desire between Draco and Harry, spoken, felt, and needed between them. Their constant negotiation is one of the biggest draws of this accidental bonding fic.  Plus, there’s an incredible stream of creative yarn names, wand lore, and an excellently written cast of side characters that make Tryslora’s world feel vast and beautiful. Check out Dewitty’s thoughts and excerpts too! ★

[Rec List] Drarry + Career: Artist by @dragontamerdame​ 2016 | 12 fics 

★ Though Ash is no longer doing rec lists (and instead is making stunning art), this list is chock full of great fics (some of which I haven’t yet read!). I highly recommend you check it out if you’re still thirsting for artist-centric fics after this list, including both Artist!Harry and Artist!Draco. ★

[Fic] Borrowing Courage by @xxthedarklordxx 2018 | E | 70k

After years of being a Magical Artist and painting for other people, Draco decides it’s time to paint for himself for once. The secrets pile up as he tries to unravel the mystery of his relatives but the only thing he didn’t count on was having to go to Potter of all people for approval.

★ A poignant, intimate exploration of Draco’s redemption, this fic is full of incredible magical portrait theory, a deep character study of Draco and his portrait sitter, and so many soft moments shared.  Though Harry does not appear until almost half way through the fic, he is unmistakably present.  This is not a fic to miss! ★

[Fic] All Your Stars In View by @alpha-exodus 2019 | M | 18k

Life after the war is difficult for Harry, especially when the only thing that makes him feel better is, oddly enough, being around Malfoy. So when Malfoy asks to paint his portrait, Harry can't refuse, even if it means baring himself in more ways than one. 

★ This is a truly unusual take on the eighth year trope, and I absolutely loved it.  Alpha_exodus has created a gorgeous story of these two growing closer over the deep intimacy of having one’s portrait painted, made more poignant by the challenges between Draco and Harry. ★

[Art] [Draco Painting Harry] by @mad1492​ 2020 | G | Illustration

After the war Draco gets  home confinement for a year. Being at home almost alone gives him time to thing about things he suppressed before and figuring out certain feelings.

★ I have adored this illustration since the first time it came across my dash! The dynamism of Draco’s hand holding the palette, the expression on Harry’s face, the open window (a nod towards Draco’s soon to come freedom, perhaps?). It’s stunning! ★

[Fic] Prepare The Brush For Me (I'm Craving With This Need) by @ladderofyears 2020 | E | 3k

Harry Potter is feeling artistic. Draco is his canvas.

★ Did I mention the edible paint? This fic is a sweet treat of an established relationship + flirting + paint.  I love the dynamic between these two as they seduce each other through the tactile and visual deliciousness of a little tube of green paint. ★

[Fic] Potter's Portrait by @ariz0nababy​ 2020 | M | 50k

After the war, Draco spends his days at Malfoy Manor, curtains drawn, paint brush in hand. When Harry Potter requests a portrait, Draco scoffs. However, Pansy has other plans for Draco. 

★ This fic is stunning, with such gorgeous dynamics between Draco and Harry as Draco completes the portrait (Draco looking at Harry while he paints? It’s the longing, baby). Plus, add in some wild happenings at the conclusion, this fic is not one to miss! ★

More Art + Drarry Lists: Artist!Harry | All 

[dylanconaghan]

I chose to reinterpret Barnett Newman’s Fourth Station piece. This painting is located in the National Gallery OF Art in Washington, DC. As a religious person myself, I chose to reinterpret this artist because I have always been intrigued by the story of Good Friday, and how it is pretty universally known step by step. So, this made sense to me to reinterpret this because I get to know more about this but in a very abstract way . I truly love the idea “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”, and I was very intrigued to see how Newman saw the Stations of the Cross in his own way.

 

I changed the painting to make it my own by adding texture swiggles and a color palette. Although I enjoyed the simplicity of Newman’s painting, I wanted to add in my own creative side to this. I feel like adding this in gave the painting a more innovative look in terms of color. Additionally, I felt that my painting created a more modern look in how this piece would be viewed. I feel that the original piece would seem too simplistic to people today, especially a younger audience. So, I decided to reinterpret by adding in a little more expressive view with a bolder color depiction of the piece. I do love this piece, but I am happy that I used this painting as a base to produce something more creative for the modern times.

 

One interesting thing I learned about Barnett Newman in doing this painting is that he was truly a Surrealist painter before developing his mature style of abstract expressionism. Also, I learned that Barnett’s work was never truly taken seriously until he died and people started to notice him. Sadly, it does take something tragic like this for people to notice the true beauty of one’s work. Additionally, I learned that Barnett wanted to be recognized as a philosopher before being a painter. This would make sense because he wanted people to truly understand the meaning behind his work since he was an abstract artist. I also learned that Newman wanted his work to be “pure” because he wanted to create something that meant so much to people in a creative way, especially after the tragedy of World War II. I learned that Barnett is recognized as the artist to develop the “zip”, which is a famous type of painting style that includes bands of vertical color with surrounding, bright colors.

One piece of work that I loved this semester was Rebecca Howe’s Mario Kart project. I thought this was interesting because of how she used energetic marks to emphasize the bright color makrs required to accurately portray this graphic. Additionally, I admired this painting because she truly tried to make the parts of color “full” so that the color is emphasized. I loved this because I loved playing Mario Kart as a kid, and I always admired the color schemes before I ever thought of someone painting it. Lastly, I admired this painting because Rebecca truly challenged herself to create something bright and beautiful when she could have made it simple. I truly admired her taking on the challenge and creating something “full” versus taking the easy road.

[alorenawrites]

On Words and Meaning

So I've been thinking a lot about how Loki is being discussed and the words used, particularly by Hiddleston, given his bent for using literary language in his descriptions. There are three words I want to touch on in this little post, one of them definitely rooted in his usage.

So the first I want to touch on is the term "romance." We've heard (often from Hiddleston), that Loki is, at heart, a romance. I think there's a dimension of the discussion missing in these conversations in that is important to consider.

To the layman, a romance is simply a love story, sometimes with a sexual undertone. But in the literary sense, a romance is a much deeper genre. I want to consider that this layer may also be present in Hiddleston's intent on using the term in describing the story arc. It certainly is in mine, as someone with a fascination with literary form and also with an English degree who has spent way too much time exploring genre.

So firstly, we need to define "romance." From literaryterms.net:

I. What is Romance?

In the strictest academic terms, a romance is a narrative genre in literature that involves a mysterious, adventurous, or spiritual story line where the focus is on a quest that involves bravery and strong values, not always a love interest. However, modern definitions of romance also include stories that have a relationship issue as the main focus.

II. Examples of Romance

In the academic sense, an example of a romance is a story in which the main character is a hero who must conquer various challenges as part of a quest. Each challenge could be its own story and can be taken out of the overall story without harming the plot.

Example 1

A knight who wishes to prove himself by recovering a stolen heirloom from an enemy may find himself attempting to make his way through a dangerous wood filled with thieves.

Once he has accomplished this challenge, he may find himself climbing a tall mountain on which a group of people are in trouble. He would save the group somehow, and then move on.

Then the final stage: the enemy’s kingdom. There may be a fair maiden whom he meets and somehow helps or rescues, or perhaps she helps him.

But the fair maiden is not the focus of the story – his quest is the focus. Each story can be taken out, yet each builds the hero’s strength to face his final quest. These stories tend to be serious rather than humorous and touch on strong values.

In considering this, I've thought about Loki's arc as a quest that does, indeed, involve the discovery and exploration of strong values with a three part quest, though I don't think the quests entirely stand on their own. The overarching theme is about Loki discovering his sense of self- his quest to become a full person, not just a trope for the universe to exploit so others can reach their better selves. I divide the show up in to three quests. The first, in episodes 1 and 2, is Loki finding a sense of purpose in the new world- his quest is to discover who this new variant is and where they are hiding. This is resolved by the end of that second episode. The second arc takes place in the next two episodes- Loki discovering his empathy for others is the continuation of the overarching personal development plot, while his quest is to discover Sylvie's goals and to uncover/share the truth behind the TVA. And in our third section, episodes 5 and 6, we get the culmination of the personal growth arc in his ultimate discovery of different facets of himself (illuminated by the different elements of self shown in the multitude of variant Lokis) while the quest is to uncover who is in control of the Sacred Timeline and why. The differences in colour palettes, settings, tones, etc. between the three episode pairings is a part of how I started to distinguish my thoughts on each. And regardless of the visual distinctions, I most definitely see the entire arc as exploring strong values and bravery, though the bravery is multi-layered, showing not only the visible bravery of facing down an apocalypse, Alioth, etc., but the internal bravery of challenging one's self and digging deep into discovering who one really is. This is a theme of queerness that I see lingering in this series- discovering who we are is a process, not an outcome.

I think that this definition of a romance, in the classical sense, is a little oversimplified, as there is often a theme of discovery of self or improvement of self along the way. In a Gothic romance, themes of "the people are the real monsters" come into play (Crimson Peak is an excellent example of this)- there may be elements of the supernatural, but the real thing of which the viewer/reader should be afraid is the person behind the curtain. Gothic romances also often do include a love story arc, but it is often deeply flawed on some level and often also includes some sort of sexual or romantic awakening, often by a female lead, that leads to the discovery of whatever darker is taking place (Crimson Peak turns this on its head in that it is Thomas' awakening with Edith that leads to his turning point and Edith's realization that the Sharpe siblings are the monsters, not the ghosts in the hall). The themes of discovery of self, or of the fortitude of moral values, or of the journey of a person's development, play into both a Gothic romance and its foundations in a classical romance.

So. There's part 1 of this ramble.

On to part 2!

The next word I want to examine is the term "relationship" and its companion, "love." Now, mind you, I come at this from a queer perspective as a demisexual, demiromantic individual, so these two words are ones I've spent a LOT of time pondering, in the quest to define my own identity.

We've heard the term "relationship" tossed around so often with only a romantic implication attached, but in truth, this word is so much more broad than this. You are in a relationship with your barber. You are in a relationship with your cat. You are in a relationship with a spiritual advisor, a professor, your best friend, your partner. Just because it is so heavily used in this way doesn't mean the relationship is only an intimate one (though intimate relationships are also not inherently sexual or romantic in nature, either, so let's remember this as well). Now if we break down what a relationship is, it's just a consistent interaction with someone based on some common interest or goal. It's a remarkably benign word. Its connotations, however, take it in a multitude of directions.

So let's look at it through the lens of an intimate relationship and add in the component of love. We'll start with just a blanket statement that love is not only one single thing. It isn't just romantic. It is our family, our friends, our pets, pie, the colour blue, that feeling of perfection when the waves of a warm lake brush over your calves...love is embedded in the experiences of these things. We love them. Love it as vast and broad as relationships. We love places, people, things, and experiences. We love ourselves (or we try to learn to).

In my world, through my particular brand of queerness, love changes in intimate relationships on a regular basis. I love my partner dearly. But on some days, that love is to my best friend, while other days, it is a romantic love and on others, sexual expression may be involved, but they may overlap in different ways. Sexual expression is independent of romantic attraction and the degree of each isn't tied together in any way. If we can separate these things, I think we can see the relationships in our everyday lives in different lights and with greater complexity.

I also think that looking at these things through the lens of diverse sexual and romantic experiences can inform how we interpret the Loki x Sylvie pairing and why some of us just aren't bothered by it (though certainly not the only reason people aren't).

We've been told Loki loves Sylvie. That much is beautifully clear. But love (and being in a relationship) doesn't automatically mean that 1) both parties are experiencing it in the same way, 2) both parties have the same approach or priorities, 3) the level of romance is necessarily the same between the people involved, 4) that sexual attraction exists at all.

Sometimes a kiss is a form of communication and not tied to the want to shag someone.

So this is where my interpretation of this particular pairing comes into play. I do see the story as a romance, in the classical sense, but also with a slight streak of the more modern sense involved. The focus is still on the quest, even when the love story emerges. And that is where I see the priorities of these characters and their definitions of the relationship differing and I analyze it through these different dimensions of love and relationship orientations.

Loki actually embodies one of the traits I've seen listed for demisexuals- we hold our friendships extremely close and because we hold our friendships the way we do, it isn't uncommon for us to end up with crushes on our best friends (and no, they don't generally develop into other forms of relationships, but they could). This is the phase in which I see Loki by episode 6. He has formed this intense bond, unlike any other it seems he's had, and his heart is breaking over the thought of losing her to her own rage. All he wants is for her to be OK, remember? This isn't a selfish action. But I think it is significant that while he tries to stop her, he's not the one who initiates the kiss. All his actions here are ones that a close friend would also do for their best friend. Like, I'd try to stop my besties from inadvertently destroying the universe. I'd even throw down over it. And for the exact same reasons- the risks are too great, we need to think, and I want them to be OK. Almost everything Loki does throughout his growing closeness to Sylvie is something I'd do for one of the people I've told I'd defend- as in, I literally told some of these people, "anybody messes with you, I'll cut a bitch- just tell me who and I'm there."

So because of all this, I don't see this relationship as sexual in any way. Romantic? Possibly. But not necessarily. Even being in love with one another doesn't mean a relationship has to have a sexual component.

Looking at Sylvie, I see her also as having found companionship with Loki, but her overriding goal is, ultimately, not to bond with someone- it's her mission. And she has sacrificed her entire life because of the TVA to this mission. She tells him repeatedly, in one way or another, that the mission comes first. Yes, she does care about him, but I don't think the way she cares about him is the same as the way he cares about her because they have differing priorities and needs (and hence why she feels betrayed by him when he tries to stop her). Or at least she hasn't allowed herself to express that. When she falls to the ground after she's killed He Who Remains, I think we get a glimpse of what Loki meant to her- she is alone, she grieves, and there is no meaning left to her story. She's done what she dedicated her entire life to and the person who could have given it other meaning is no longer beside her.

I still don't think that the first thing they would do upon seeing each other is suck face and have wild sex. Would that bother me? No, not really. I can headcanon something different than what actually happens, I'm fine with that (just look at all this glorious headcanoning happening right here!) I'd like it to stay a romantic friendship (queer platonic relationships for the win- they're squishes!) because I don't think we hardly ever see those types of relationships and queer platonic relationships are incredibly beautiful and powerful and yes, based on love and maybe even romance, in their own way. They are defined by the people in them, as are all relationships.

And now to address "but she kissed him!"

Yes, she did. And I've kissed my partner when there wasn't romance involved because I wanted to share a moment, to express something deeper than I had words for (yes, even on one of my aromantic leaning days), or just because it's fun. And it doesn't have to "match" up with how the other partner feels it, either, so long as the message itself is what comes across. This is how I read the Sylvie x Loki kiss. It was a message of worthiness. Loki's entire arc, including in that scene, is in discovering if he's anyone different than the monster he's made himself out to be (and encouraged others to see him as). He tells Sylvie that he can't be trusted, falling back on the habit of characterizing himself as the professional liar, the one who can't form those attachments which are built on trust. He also identifies her as someone incapable of trust in that moment, which I think is also a projection of how he sees himself. He tells Mobius he can only trust himself and the show slowly shows Loki coming to trust others, but in this moment in the Citadel, he's falling back on a different perception of himself.

This is where the kiss comes in, for me. Sylvie isn't trying to tell him she'd jump him right then and there, if things were different. Sylvie is trying to tell him that she does trust him, that he can be trusted, and that he is worthy of the affection of a friend, even if she can't have him in her way. She is prioritizing her mission, yes, but not without giving him some sort of reassurance, in her own way, that this rejection isn't personal. That he isn't too broken to be loved. It doesn't have to go into romance (not saying it couldn't, just saying it isn't a requirement). It doesn't have to go into sexual relationship territory.

Maybe I see this so vastly differently because of my experiences exploring gender, sexuality, and romantic orientation. Maybe I see this so differently because at this stage in my life, I would absolutely kiss a friend if I felt something so heavy was going to break them. I have a friend I say "I love you" to every time we talk on the phone or video chat- we've been together for 20 years. I've got photo proof of a snuggle pile of friends when I was a young adult. I've shared a bed with a friend with no reason other than that we didn't want to sleep on the floor and why not. I've had friendships that were awkward to start and intense once they got going that are absolutely still important in my life. I've had crushes on friends that have faded and just shown me another dimension of what it is to love someone. I've watched adults who struggle to make connections to other people discover those moments of awkward "how do I do friend mode?" and come out stronger for them, with that huge sense of victory hidden behind a small smile they don't want to share with anyone else quite yet.

I see so much possibility in how we interpret a television show reduced to "it's a romance and that's sick and incest and he wants to fuck himself!" and it just saddens me that so many people have such a limited understanding and experience of the depth and breadth of human relationships and of how people love one another.