#Harlequin 'verse

[signedandsealed]

Pierrot The Seducer:

~<>~<>~<>~

Genie bottle decanter;

A rising crystal spout;

Garnished with stop—

Stop of cut glass—

And lapidary geometrics.

A billowing base

Of crystal, folded pleats.

Louched contents:

Silken, waxen, milky.

Valetaille circling

The Lucullan banquet,

Pouring libations

At behest of the Host.

Gourmandizing revelers

Turn interrupted

To the symposiarch's toast,

Rendered in verse

Of lines decked in motley.

A fool at the table

Has dropped the ladle

And surrended his power

Before behemoth encroachment

Of fast-swelling sadness,

And nacreous teardrops

Break on the floorboards,

Fallen from a head

Defeated and hung.

Gathering his garb

And long-hanging sleeves,

He begs his pardon

And takes his leave

To the parterre,

With light of the moon

Flooding the hedgerows

Like lunar monsoons;

There to breathe...

Lungs drawing fully

The crystalline air

And now assuming

A curious stare

With eyes magnetized

To the light-giving beacon,

He flies in his mind

Through capers unreasoned;

Polyamorous playbooks.

Spellbroken and leering,

He returns to the party,

Brimming w/ glee

At returning thus tardy.

Discordant ripples

He pulls of a quiver,

Espying at nipples,

And young fleshly slivers;

The skipper charts course.

And one chanteuse—

A socialite dame—

Lofty and gorgeous,

He'll rob of her name,

With gallantry feigned

Or impassioned blame,

His design's executions

Are the end of his aim;

Lunar ecstasy.

(FINIS)

[silent-scribbs]

Harley has a sister :3

And they're both whores <3

I'm not quite sure on the name but for rn it's Hime, may stay that way the more attached I get to it She got them Mettaton legs lmao (it's just leggings with them thigh high booties lol)

[chaosmultiverse]

[ guard ] for your muse to step between my muse and danger. ( Harley from Pamela/Poison Ivy. )

Harley was normally very careful around Ivy's plants, she knew that they could be dangerous and she didn't want to risk damaging them. But... one of her hyenas had gotten into the garden, so Harley was trying to pull them out of there.

It was as she was doing that that she noticed that one of the plants seemed like it was it was recoiling back for snapping at her.

She prepared for it, shutting her eyes and shielding her pet but before anything else unfolded she heard someone step in, she opened her eyes and saw Ivy.

"Hi Red, didn't mean to be in here so long by myself." she gave a sheepish smile.

[harryssyndrome]

Kiwi baby! | h.s 🥝

Summery: Harry’s wife surprises him during Kiwi with the best news ever.

Word count: 3.2k || Masterlist 🍉🍓❤️

The gif and the ai image are both mine! Don’t you dare steal it! I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO USE EITHER OF THEM OR STEAL MY WORK!!!

On a kind note, I hope you enjoy reading!!! I love this one-shot sm <333 I couldn’t wait to write it the whole night ever since I got the idea. This is probably my most favorite piece of work ever. I guess I’ll make this a part of ‘Our Little World: Documentary series’. REQUEST ARE OPEN! 🌊

Posted on: November 24th, 2024. (IST)

Tag-list: @angeldavis777 @fruity-harry || TAGLIST OPEN 💌

The evening sky above the stadium was painted in deep shades of purple, and the crowd beneath it surged with energy, every soul gathered to see him perform. Harry Styles was in his element, bathed in bright lights, his smile as wide as the stage itself, his voice carrying through the open air. The music was loud, vibrant, and electric—Kiwi blasting through the speakers as Harry moved across the stage, every step laced with the confidence and excitement that only live performances could stir.

His outfit tonight was nothing short of breathtaking—a red and black Gucci harlequin-patterned suit that shimmered under the lights, accentuating his every movement. The slickness of his hair, now a little longer than usual, fell just enough to brush his forehead as he swung his body to the rhythm of the song. Fans were ecstatic, their voices harmonizing with his in perfect unity, shouting the words to Kiwi as if their very existence depended on it.

The crowd threw water at him, a playful and typical reaction to the intense heat of the show. Harry, ever the entertainer, caught one of the bottles and used it to douse them back with a mischievous grin. The energy was alive in a way only concerts could make him feel. He laughed along with his fans, feeling that familiar thrill that had kept him addicted to this life—the adoration of strangers, the pulse of the music, and the sheer joy of performing.

But amidst the buzz of lights, the sweat dripping from his skin, and the joy in the air, there was a quiet thought that kept tugging at him. YN. His wife. She wasn’t in the VIP stand like usual. He could always rely on her to be there, her smile always radiating at him from the crowd, her presence a constant comfort. But tonight, the spot where she always stood was empty. The concern he tried to shake off kept creeping into his mind, distracting him in the back of his head, even as his heart continued to race with excitement from the show.

He couldn’t help but glance over to the section where she usually sat, hoping to catch a glimpse of her face, knowing it would soothe the small, gnawing worry he felt. But the space remained empty.

His foot tapped the beat of the song beneath him, trying to focus on the crowd once more. He tossed the water bottle at the fans, his fingers brushing the cold plastic. The adrenaline kept him high, kept him in the moment, but his gaze drifted again.

Where was she?

YN had been a little quieter than usual in the past few days. He hadn’t pushed for any answers, but now he found himself wondering if something was wrong. Maybe she was feeling unwell. Maybe she just wanted to have a quiet night in. Still, the thought of not seeing her there tonight gnawed at him.

His voice still rang out with the words of the song, but his mind was divided between the stage and the empty stand. He kept looking—one eye on the crowd, the other scanning for her. And just as his next verse was coming up, he saw it.

There she was.

Right in the front row—so close to the barricade, she was almost on the stage.

His breath caught in his throat.

She wasn’t in the VIP section. No, she was right there. In the heart of the crowd. The waves of people parted like the Red Sea for her, and there she stood—holding a sign. Her figure illuminated by the stage lights, her long hair falling in waves over her shoulders, a look of pure joy and love in her eyes.

For a moment, everything else fell away—the music, the fans, the lights—all of it was distant. Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of her. The sign she held was simple, but to him, it was everything.

“I’m having your baby” it read, scrawled across a bright poster board in bold, handwritten letters.

He froze. His heart nearly stopped.

She’s pregnant.

He blinked, thinking he must be imagining it, but no—she was smiling at him now, holding up the sign for him to see, her eyes locked on his. There was no mistaking it. YN—his wife—was carrying their baby.

Harry’s pulse raced as the flood of emotions hit him. His heart thudded against his chest like it wanted to burst free. The happiness, the disbelief, the excitement—it all rushed through him like a tidal wave, and for a moment, the world seemed to tilt beneath his feet.

He had wanted this. He had dreamed of this. Of being a father. Of having a child with YN. They had talked about it before, casually, in quiet moments after dinner, while walking through the park, in bed at night. But it had never been a “right now” kind of conversation. They had agreed that when it happened, it happened. And now… it had happened.

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and his throat tightened. The emotions, overwhelming and beautiful, blurred his vision, but all he could do was stand there on the stage, dumbstruck by the sight of his wife, her belly now holding the future they had always dreamed of.

In a rush of pure joy, Harry stumbled forward, intent on reaching her, to hold her, to kiss her, to tell her how much he loved her. But as he took a step toward her, he didn’t see the puddle of water gathering at the edge of the stage, a result of the fans tossing their bottles earlier.

And then, it happened.

His foot slipped.

There was a split second of disbelief before Harry lost his footing completely, crashing down to the stage in an ungraceful heap. The crowd gasped collectively, their moment of joy paused in shock. But Harry, ever the professional, couldn’t help but laugh at himself. His laughter echoed through the microphone as he quickly scrambled to his feet, dusting himself off.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, still chuckling as he shook off the fall. The fans laughed along with him, the tension breaking as they cheered even louder, impressed by his quick recovery. Harry took a deep breath, regaining his balance and composure. He grabbed the microphone again, still laughing, and gave the crowd a playful wink.

“You okay, Harry?” someone from the crew called out, teasing him from the side.

“Yeah, I’m good! Just a little slippery, that’s all!” Harry replied, still grinning.

His gaze immediately returned to YN. She was still standing at the barricade, her sign still held high, her face alight with joy, her smile as radiant as the sun. It was in that moment that Harry realized he couldn’t wait any longer. The song was still playing behind him, the familiar rhythm pulsing through his body, but he couldn’t focus on the lyrics anymore. Not with the overwhelming emotions flooding his heart.

He took a step forward, slowly walking toward the edge of the stage, his eyes still locked on YN, who was holding his gaze with the same intensity. With each step, his heart pounded harder in his chest.

And before he even knew it, his knees buckled beneath him, and Harry collapsed to the stage once more, but this time, it was with pure emotion.

He covered his face with his hands, unable to contain the tears that had begun to fall freely down his cheeks. After a few moments, Harry wiped his eyes, clearing the tears away as he stood up once more. His voice was thick with emotion when he spoke into the mic, his words trembling with happiness:

“My wife is having my baby!” he shouted, his voice trembling. “It’s all my business!”

The crowd erupted in pure, ecstatic noise, the roar of the fans filling the stadium as Harry remained on his knees, the overwhelming weight of the moment too much to bear. His chest was heaving, his body shaking as the reality of the news consumed him.

“Is that real?” a fan shouted.

“Yes, it’s real!” Harry replied, laughing through his tears. “I’m going to be a dad! A dad!” He repeated the words as if he needed to hear them again, the joy overwhelming every part of him.

The fans roared in approval, the noise a chaotic symphony of celebration. But Harry didn’t care about any of that now. He didn’t care about the performance or the crowd or the cameras recording every moment. All he could think about was YN.

His mind was consumed by thoughts of the future—the life they would build together, the family they would raise. He quickly stood to his feet, wiping his eyes, and glanced once more at YN.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Harry dropped the mic to the stage and sprinted toward the barricade, his heart pounding with anticipation.

Harry could feel the heat of the stage lights burning against his skin, but they didn’t matter. The noise of the crowd was deafening, but it was like a distant hum. His heart was the loudest thing he could hear, thrumming in his chest, pumping through his veins with an almost frantic rhythm. His legs carried him toward YN like they had a mind of their own. He was driven by a force he couldn’t describe, propelled by the overwhelming joy of the moment.

Fans parted for him as he made his way to the front of the stage, their cheers rising to a fever pitch as they realized what was happening. Harry didn’t hear their excitement—he only heard the steady beat of his heart, louder now than the music, than anything else in the world.

YN. His wife. The love of his life. The mother of his child.

As he approached the barricades, YN’s smile never wavered. She was grinning from ear to ear, her eyes shining with excitement, her hand placed lovingly over her flat belly. As soon as Harry reached her, he lifted her into his arms, spinning her around in a joyous embrace, laughing like a child. The crowd cheered even louder, their love for Harry and YN growing with every passing second.

She had always known that he wanted this more than anything. They both had. But now it was real. She was carrying their baby, and everything about their lives was about to change.

“YNN…” Harry’s voice caught in his throat as he reached her. He placed her back on the ground, eyes never leaving hers. She was glowing—absolutely radiant in the soft light of the stage, and he couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh as his arms reached out to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. The crowd cheered louder, but Harry only had eyes for YN, holding her close, feeling the warmth of her body against his.

“I love you,” Harry whispered into her ear, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you so much. I can’t believe we’re going to be parents.”

YN pulled back slightly to look at him, her hand resting on his chest, feeling the erratic beat of his heart under her fingers. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, her smile wide and full of joy, matching his own. “I know. I can’t believe it either,” she whispered, voice trembling just slightly. “I wanted to tell you in the cutest way possible, but you’ve already made it the most unforgettable moment of my life.”

Harry’s breath caught again, a lump forming in his throat as he looked down at her belly, still so small but already holding the life they had created together. His hands rested gently on her sides as he crouched down slightly, his eyes never leaving her. He placed his lips softly on her stomach, his kiss a promise—a vow. The fans around them cheered again, but this time, it was just background noise to Harry.

“I’m going to be the best dad for you,” Harry muttered against her belly, his voice filled with awe. “I promise.”

YN’s fingers threaded through his hair as she smiled down at him, her heart swelling with love. “I know you will be. I’ve always known,” she whispered, her voice full of faith and affection.

“You’re going to be the best dad our baby could ever ask for.”

As Harry pulled back from the kiss, he stood to his full height and stared at YN, his hands still resting on her waist, his expression filled with wonder. His lips curled into a grin, and he couldn’t resist pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before meeting her eyes once more.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be a dad,” he repeated, his voice thick with emotion, as if the words didn’t fully make sense to him yet. But the more he said them, the more real it became. “You and me. We’re going to have a little baby.”

YN’s eyes sparkled, the tears now freely falling down her cheeks. She looked at him with a mix of love, gratitude, and joy. She reached up to touch his face, her thumb brushing gently against the stubble on his jaw. “It’s happening, Harry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s happening.”

Harry smiled wider, and without thinking, he reached down, cupping her face with both hands. He kissed her then—slow, gentle, tender—a kiss that held all of his joy, his love, his gratitude, his hope for their future. This was more than a kiss; it was a promise, a symbol of everything they were about to become. Harry pulled away slowly, his forehead resting against hers as they both tried to catch their breath.

“I can’t wait,” Harry murmured, his lips still grazing hers as he spoke. “I can’t wait to hold our baby. To be there for you. For everything.”

The love in his voice was enough to make YN’s heart swell to bursting. He kissed her again, softer this time, and then looked back at the crowd.

Harry wrapped her in a tight hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around again as he laughed.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

YN laughed, her fingers threading through his damp curls. “I love you too. Always.”

Harry set her down gently, his hands never leaving her as he looked into her eyes. “You’re my everything, YNN. You and this baby—you’re everything.”

Tears slid down YN’s cheeks, and she nodded, her heart full. “And you’re ours.”

Harry dropped to his knees once more, pressing his lips to her stomach in a gesture so tender it made YN’s breath catch.

“Thank you for making my life so much beautiful,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “I’ll love this baby with everything I’ve got. And I’ll love you even more.”

YN’s hands rested on his shoulders, her fingers squeezing gently. “You already are, Harry.”

The evening continued around them, but for Harry and YN, time seemed to slow. The music had become a distant hum, the chatter of the fans a soft murmur in the background. All that mattered was each other.

As they stood at the barricades, Harry reached up to take YN’s hand in his, squeezing it gently. He leaned in once more, pressing a kiss to her lips, soft and slow, as if savoring every moment, every sensation. His heart felt full to bursting. He had everything he had ever wanted—YN, their love, and now, the promise of their baby.

He felt as if his entire life had led up to this point—this single, beautiful moment. The rush of emotions from earlier hadn’t yet subsided, but now there was a calmness in him, a peace. He smiled as he looked down at YN’s hand in his, then back into her eyes.

“I know we’ve been through so much already,” Harry said quietly, his voice full of emotion. “But I feel like the best part of our journey is just beginning.”

YN nodded, her smile soft and full of love. “I feel the same way.”

Harry squeezed her hand once more, then stepped back slightly, turning his attention back to the crowd. “I’m going to be a dad,” he said out loud, his voice full of awe and happiness. He turned to face the audience, the microphone still lying on the stage. “Everyone, this is the best moment of my life,” he said, his voice carrying the emotion of the words. “My wife, YN, is having my baby.”

The moment was surreal. The fans were still screaming, the cameras still rolling, but none of it mattered. For Harry, nothing would ever top this moment. It wasn’t just another performance or another stage—it was the night his greatest dream began to come true.

As they stood there together, the crowd began to chant, “Baby Styles! Baby Styles!”

Harry threw his head back in laughter, turning to wave at the audience. “You lot are mad!” he called out, but his face said it all—he was over the moon.

The crowd continued on cheering wildly, but Harry’s focus was on the woman in front of him. She was glowing, every inch of her radiating love and joy, and he couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man alive.

He leaned in to kiss her once more, this time a gentle, loving kiss on her lips. He felt everything he had ever hoped for in that kiss—his future, his family, and the love of his life, all wrapped up in one perfect moment.

As the kiss ended, he pulled back, his forehead resting against hers. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“I love you too,” YN whispered back.

They stood there for a moment longer, the world around them continuing on, but nothing mattered now but each other, and the new life they were about to bring into the world. Together.

The fans’ cheers faded into the background as Harry held YN’s hand tightly, the two of them standing side by side, facing the future with all the love and hope that their hearts could hold.

Harry stood up and kissed her again, his heart still racing, his mind still in a daze, but in the best way possible. His dream of being a dad was coming true, and no matter what came next, he knew he had everything he ever needed right here, in this moment. He knew one thing for sure: their love was only just beginning

And with that, Harry Styles was no longer just a rock star on stage—he was going to be a dad, and that was the greatest role he’d ever play.

[mothmans-side-ho]

Armand called Lestat a clown in the most round about way

s2e3 hot wired the two passions in my brain into this info dump, however seeing as a central theme of this episode (and the season) is power, status, and their subversions, it seems relevant. for context, I have 2 degrees in theatre, specifically theatre history and how trends effect form. (I am in no way an expert though, and this is very simplified). long story short, I'm relishing in being a big ol nerd about this entire season

FINALLY, we got to see Lestat (a version of) strutting his stuff on stage in a scene with peak commedia dell'arte shenanigans. Commedia dell'arte is/was an originally Italian form of theatre which was defined by lazzi (comedic bits), improv, and stock characters. these stock characters have been around from Roman times and are still super familiar to us today - the young lovers, the pervy old rich man, the soldier with bravado, etc. It's been seen as a somewhat formulaic form of theatre which relied on quickly identifiable characters and situations so audiences can sit back and enjoy the butt jokes and servant beatings.

In the book - specifically The Vampire Lestat - our beloved Lestat RELISHES in playing a character called Lelio, one of the young lovers. It is in playing Lelio that he "found a tongue for verses and wit [he]'d never had in life" (TVL pg 31). It is in playing Lelio that Lestat first gets a taste of the person he can become, and it is in Lelio that we see the first glimpses of the Lestat which so fully seduces Louis. In short, Lestat casts himself as the suave and handsome romantic protagonist, here to sweep people off their feet. The young lovers are also notably some of the only roles portrayed without masks, to emphasize their youth and natural beauty.

SO IMAGINE MY SURPRISE WHEN LESTAT SHOWS UP IN S2E3 DRESSED LIKE THIS:

He has a half mask! He's wearing all sorts of colors! He's clearly acting as a go between between two other characters who seem to be of a higher status than him! As I said before, commedia dell'arte can be very formulaic (especially by the late 1700s when it is being codified away from being improv focused to being cemented into scripts). From all of these visual and characterization clues, Lestat is not playing Lelio the young lover, he's playing a Harlequin! And his costume seems to be heavily based off of this Harlequin (Arlecchino, Arlecino, etc.) which is literally the wikipedia image of a Harlequin.

(note, if you give a fuck, this image is depicting an Arlechino from 1671, roughly 125 years before Lestat on stage. in my mind, this accounts for the changes in silhouette, styling, why Lestat doesn't wear the mask for the entirety of the performance, etc. Also, just while we're talking about costuming, I believe the late 18th Century was still a time in which actors would have been expected to provide their own costumes, which would explain why Lestat's version is made with expensive fabrics and includes cunty little details like the bow in his hair. At the very least, I can see him making looking good a priority as the owner of the theater and as...well...Lestat.)

Okay, okay, okay. Why does this matter?

Harlequins are not characters of any social status. They're servants who are quick witted enough to get into antics but stupid enough to be commanded by animalistic instincts (lust, food, you name it). The Harlequin being beaten by their master was ENORMOUSLY funny, and is the origin of the term "slapstick comedy". They a memorable iteration of clown.

In this scene, which I'm willing to bet was inspired by (if not outright) Carlo Goldoni's A Servant of Two Masters, Lestat plays a servant who interacts with two characters. One appears to be a young woman in a breeches part - another common trope of commedia performance. The other appears to be the young male lover! We see Lestat prancing between the two, seemingly facilitating some romance plot, being paid for his compliance, and doing a good ol fashioned butt lazzi. (Could he be presenting his ass for beating? Maybe.)

So why is Lestat not the young valiant lover, but instead A LITERAL CLOWN? Three potential, not conflicting, reasons. By the time Lestat is performing (mid to late 1790s, based off Armand's earlier comment about Robespierre's 1794 execution), the Harlequin characters were the most sought after roles! At this time, we are seeing the emergence of "Celebrity Culture" where audiences sought out actors for their off-stage personalities as much as their on-stage ones. This is an extremely fitting position for Lestat to fall into. Yay a semblance of historical accuracy!

Secondly, Lestat's ENTIRE ROLE in season two is to come between this season's new pair of young(ish) lovers: Louis & Armand. Lestat's function is to repeatedly detract and distract from their relationship through Dreamstat's antics (appearing at the piano calling Louis a whore, having Louis re-kill him, etc.). Additionally, simply put, Lestat (and Sam Reid as Lestat) is a lot of fun to watch. He is absolutely a stand out (if not THE stand out) of the show! His constant ability to serve cunt is often what your eye is drawn to, he pulls focus to himself, and often undercuts the more subdued, philosophical, and morose nature of others. Both on-stage and on-screen, Lestat continuously upstages his screen partners. He does kinda function as a Harlequin. But in the end, the Harlequin's antics are also what ultimately drive the young lovers together. If not for Lestat's actions, Louis and Armand would have never met nor bonded over knowing this fucked up brat prince.

But we also have to remember! This portion of the episode is presented by Armand the mind fuckery master. It is absolutely in his best interests to paint Lestat as some sort of ridiculous, lesser being driven by animalistic nature. Especially if - by extension of the metaphor - this frames he and Louis as the virtuous and optimistic young lovers, striving to cling to each other in a world of chaos. I would be EXTREMELY interested to see if, when recollected by someone else, Lestat appears in a different role or characterized differently.

Again, given the celebrity culture of the time and Lestat being himself, it is entirely believable that he would appear in the Harlequin role (Truffaldino, if this is Goldoni's Servant). However, I think it's extremely telling that in Armand's iteration of the story Lestat is not the dignified, refined, and sympathetic young romantic. He is instead a literal fucking clown.

[thescarletnargacuga]

DEFYING GRAVITY

A harlequin AU showtime songfic!

Harlequin AU credit: @tadc-harlequin-au @iamespecter

A quasi-sequel to chandelier

WARNING: alcohol

~~~

Pomni and Caine were in the dining room having the time of their life. They were an uncountable amount of bottles into their drunken shenanigans and were treating the former formal room to the greatest show on earth. Caine stood on the table, holding his cane like a microphone. Every unsteady step he took knocked something to the floor; plates, cutlery, candelabras. "Ladies and gentlemen! Puppets of all ages! Prepare to be amazed by the marvelous, high-flying acro-botic harlequin!"

He pointed to Pomni, sitting on a large mounted animal head, high above the floor. She stood and bowed, almost falling forward, but caught herself. She leapt from her perch, grabbed a chandelier like a trapeze and swung to a second chandelier over the table. She let go to grab the next but missed.

Caine almost fell over his own feet scrambling to catch her. He got her and gave her a cheeky smile. "Nice of you drop in."

Pomni was too drunk to care about his stupid joke. She laughed. "I missed."

"I know. Let's not do that again. How about a song? The stage is still ours!"

"Fuck yeah! Where's the music?"

"Bubble!" Caine called and the blimp butler puttered in.

"Yes?"

"We need music! Make it a catchy one!" Caine hiccuped.

"You got it, boss." Bubble played a random music track over his speaker.

"Wait! I know this song!" Pomni jumped out of Caine's arms and climbed a china cabinet, the fragile plateware inside clanked together. She stood proud and started belting the song. "Something has changed within me. Something is not the same. I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game! Too late for second guessing! Too late to go back to sleep! It's time to trust my instincts, close my eyes and leeeeeeap!"

She jumped from the cabinet, grabbed a banner hanging from the ceiling and swung around on it like an aerial silk. "It's time to try defying gravity! Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity! And you won't bring me dooown!"

Caine's eyes sparkled as he watched Pomni fly overhead. To see her so full of life made him feel like he was on top of the world. He posed and sang the next verse before Pomni could. "I'm through accepting limits cause someone says they're so. Some things I cannot change, but till I try I'll never know! Too long I've been afraid of losing love I guess I've lost. Well, if that's love, it comes at much too high a coooost!"

He leapt from the table, kicked off the wall and grabbed a banner. He swung freely across from Pomni. "I'd sooner buy defying gravity! I'd wake up high defying gravity! Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity! And you won't bring me dooown!"

They made eye contact, smiling as the song continued. The song felt so freeing to sing. Even if they didn't really know why. Maybe it was the booze. Maybe it was the feeling of swinging around on the ceiling. But this just felt right.

"Unlimited. My future is unlimited." Pomni sang. "And I just had a vision, almost like a prophecy." She looked longingly at Caine. He looked different... almost human. She blinked, and the vision cleared. "I know, it sounds truly crazy."

"And true, the vision's hazy." Caine swung closer, grabbed her banner and pushed her around the room.

"But I can see it!" Pomni sung at Caine.

"I can feel it!" Caine sang back.

"And so I'll be so hiiiigh!" Pomni held on with just her legs and held her arms up as she swung.

Caine joined her in singing the held word as their banners twisted together.

"Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" Pomni was bursting with real joy. She was practically in Caine's face as she sang. "So if you care to find me, look to the Western sky!"

Caine leaned in to her a little. "Has someone told you lately, everyone deserves the chance to flyyyy!" He swung around and untangled their banners, sending Pomni swinging on her own again.

"And if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free!"

Caine swung to kick off the wall. "To those who'd ground me, take a message back from meeeee! Yeah, yeah!" He swung out to Pomni and jumped to her banner, putting them both on the same one. He steadied himself putting an arm around her. She grabbed on to him, not protesting the closeness.

They sang together as the song crescendoed. "It's time to try defying gravity! I'm way up high, I'm defying gravity!" They locked eyes. "Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity! And you won't bring me, and you won't bring me dooooooown!"

They sang together so perfectly, they surprised themselves. All smiles and out of breath, Caine leaned close. "Pomni, you're incredible."

"I know." She giggled drunkenly. Her heart felt warm. The soul fragment within her hummed in response to Caine. It felt like her soul was literally trying to touch his. By the look on his face, he was experiencing the same thing. "Caine..?" She leaned in even closer.

"Pomni..." He moved in with the intent of kissing her, but millimeters before contact, a sudden jolt downward startled them. They looked up to see that their shared banner was tearing from the ceiling.

They looked back at each other and the banner ripped. They fell in a heap to the table below. Pomni sat up and pushed the heavy banner off of them. "Fuck...that could not have been worse timing." She pouted.

Caine sat up and gave her a look. "We could still-"

"Nope. Moment ruined." She pushed Caine away and he fell off the table.

"What is going on in here!?" Ragatha stormed in, holding a broom. "YOU TWO!" She pointed at Caine and Pomni. "Stop wrecking this manor room by room! SOMEONE HAS TO CLEAN IT!"

Pomni and Caine scattered like a couple of cockroaches, fleeing from Ragatha's wrath.

[smokingasters]

PP Novels Resources (for my fellow deranged fans)

As a deranged PP fan, who was starving for dopamine I discovered some novel sources for the characters we all love! All novels/summary is in Russian (can be easily translated to English through Google Translation of the website. Use a VPN if the sites do not load)

If ya'll love the OG cast (Season 1), this is for you! I'm merely linking to the websites for your reading pleasure. I will try to link the ones that are complete, more under the cut.

*All due thanks to the dedicated translators who keep the fandom going* Psycho-Pass Zero

(Tumblr: Novel Translation *pending but I recommend reading this before the radio drama for plot coherence*) (Live Journal: Radio Drama Translation *complete*)

Content warning: Plastination case + Makishima is enough warning Timeline: Prequel to the Psycho-Pass S1 Kogami and Sasayama's bromance/outlines the gruesome murders in the Specimen case/follows the story of Touma Kozaburo and his obsession with Touko. Baby Kogami is so precious. Mitsuru Sasayama is the man, the legend. *sobs* Masaoka's whiskey persists + Ginoza the worrier.

Psycho-Pass Asylum: About A Girl (Live Journal: Detailed Summary *complete*) (Suggested Supplement: Yayoi/Shion Tidbits from PP Novel + Aoyanagi and Kozuki disaster)

Content warning: brutality against women, !pregnancy, !cultism, !infanticide. I'm not kidding when I mean it's brutal. Timeline: Post S1 with some flashbacks. Yayoi and Shion's relationship is the main focus. They investigate a case where pregnant minors are being sacrificed by a cult. Entirely from Yayoi's perspective, has many details about her past and how she and Shion feel about Division 1. I would encourage you to read this if you want a feminine/female perspective of the PP verse. Underlying themes of creativity, sex, romance, and hope + vital issues with the Sybil System. I added the supplement because it covers a bit more about Yayoi and Shion + explores the canon romantic relationships, I believe it is a good study of how PP handles canon relationships.

Psycho-Pass Asylum: Restaurant de Campagne Kagari Shuusei

(Live Journal: Detailed Summary *complete*)

Content warning: None, really. This one is quite wholesome as PP can be except for Sybil's shenanigans. Timeline: Prequel to S1 (Flashback) Kagari and Div 1 + 2 investigate a series of gastronomic malfunctions in Sybil's food preparation system caused by a criminal called 'Harlequin'. It involves a "natural food" supply company called Gusto and a restaurant owner. The novel explores Kagari's interest in cuisines and the impact of food in the PP world. Kagari's perspective is quite refreshing and light, compared to the complexity in other novels.

Psycho-Pass Asylum: Separation Ginoza Nobuchika (Live Journal: Detailed Summary *complete*)

Content warning: animal!cruelty, child!abuse, dogs. This one is a tearjerker. Timeline: Prequel to S1 + post S1 Inspector Ginoza, Kogami, and Sasayama investigate a case of rehabilitated animals/pets that are increasing the stress levels of Okutama, a remote place in the mountains. These pets were reintroduced and have gone feral. A doctor named Miyake was responsible for the reintroduction. Ginoza's calm yet poetic and wistful perspective is quite grounding. There's a sense of loss through this story, the theme of separation, and dogs being man's best friends. Any puns that made you think of Kogami are valid.

Psycho-Pass Asylum: Mungungwha Choe-Gu-Sung

(Live Journal: Detailed Summary *partial translation*)

Content warning: !torture, !mutilation, !castration, graphic, mentions of NK-orea. It's quite disturbing and angsty. MAJOR tearjerker. Timeline: Pre-S1 + follows the plot of S1. This follows the story of Choe-Gu Sung, Makishma's accomplice, and his entry and activities in Japan. Explores family life with his younger sister Suseon and his friend Guynthae. It covers a major portion of his backstory in N-K and his eventual friendship with Makishima. If you felt nothing for this guy in S1, believe me, you will be sobbing through this one. He deserved a better ending ftw.

That's all. If I find anything else, I'll add it in another post. Enjoy delving into the world of Psycho-Pass in-depth, and don't forget the words said by a certain Enforcer:

When it's all over, you can cry as much as you like.

[mortalhideout]

Omg my first post on this account! Recently i got into helluva verse so i decided to make an side acc for it! (most of my moots hate vivzie so this is the safer bet)

I saw that harlequin hat and i immediately knew i needed to put it on fizz ft some other clothes i thought go with it nicely

[yourfavsasdragondescriptions]

Can we get Dimentio from Super Paper Mario? He's one of my FAVOURITE lil shits out there

And bonus Super Dimentio for the kicks (the fucked up fusion between Dimentio, Luigi and the Chaos Heart)

Or as i like to call it sometimes, Soup (i just want to see what you'd write for dimentio normally, simply felt like attaching a bonus for the funsies)

just reawoke from hibernation but the no twofers rule still stands. so i will just do dimentio, but if i did super dimentio i would make him an eldritch horror

This entity appears to be made entirely of countless pieces of folded paper, essentially being a gigantic piece of origami that can move of its own accord. Most of the pieces of paper that comprise its body are black in color, and its 'hands' are not actually attached to its body but instead move alongside it. The pieces of paper on its body that aren't black in color are either glossy in appearance or covered in glitter and/or sequins. Its neck, wings and upper body are comprised of lavender and light yellow pieces of paper arranged in stripes, and from the back of its head sprouts a series of paper 'horns' that almost look like a jester's hat. Three of the 'horns' have small metal bells attached to them. It lacks eyes, a nose and a mouth, and in their place is a harlequin mask taped to the place where its nostrils should be.

When it moves, it does so with an almost ethereal grace. Despite being made entirely of paper, it is not as vulnerable to fire as one might think. Its breath weapon is a spray of high-velocity sequins that can tear a man to shreds at point-blank range. It is also highly versed in the magic arts, and it uses this skill to great effect both on the battlefield and out.

[tadc-harlequin-au]

Hi! Haven't asked anything in a while but if you had to asking a song from a musical to each character of the main cast, Able included, which would you choose?

Cause each one of your characters is giving Phantom of the Opera but they can't all be the Phantom...

(In the topic of musicals, do you like them? And if yes then which is your favorite and least favorite?)

(Wanted to ask something silly due to all the awful shit that has been flowing through your inbox, my condolences)

I'm not so well-versed in the musical scene, but I would like to say that Rewrite the stars from the Greatest Showman is lowkey Caine/Pomni core in a level that I and only ME can understand because I already have their story laid out inside my head and no one else knows about it except maybe one or two other persons that I infodump to like it is fucking insane I am going feral I cannot be contained LET ME OUT OF MY DAMN CAGE GRRRRRRRRRRR SET ME FREE FROM MY PRISON RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SHAKING THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE

Guys you are so not ready. You will not be ready for the insanity that is my fucking Harlequin AUwe gotta get through a multitude of pain first...... to find happiness....... AUGH shakoing and crying and choking on my seazt my mental illness for this au is so powerful

Also, again. Not really that well-versed into musicals, but... Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame........................ The Steven Universe Movie is also pretty good. erm

[adarkrainbow]

I found back a little excerpt about how Mother Goose arrived into the English literature despite originally being from France. It comes from "Le panorama illustré de la fantasy et du merveilleux" (a really good book). Loosely translated by yours truly

"Perrault's fairy tales influenced the Anglo-Saxon imagination in ways the French readers probably do not conceive: from the 18th century onward, the name of Mother Goose (translation of Mère l'Oye) became synonymous with fairy tales, then with poetry for children, and finally it became a major inspiration for pantomimes and puppet shows.

It was either the famous publisher John Newbery, or his successor Thomas Crana, who, around 1780, began a series of cheap publications derived from the French fairytales (which had been translated in English since 1729). The most ancient edition we have of the anthology "Mother Goose's Melody, or, Sonnets for the cradle" comes from 1784. Its popularity gave birth to stage-shows as early as 1806/1807 (Harlequin and Mother Goose: or, The Golden Egg). Sliding from the world of fairy tales to the one of childhood verses, the character of "Mother Goose" was envisioned as the author of the "nursery rhymes", those small poems learned by all children in England - hence why Mother Goose was a primary influence over what would become the literature of wonders and marvels of the 19th century, and even an influence over fantasy as a whole. Quite a career, for an invented name...

It is even said that Mother Goose was buried by London, in Saint Olaf's church. Unless it was in a cemetery of Boston.... And that despite the obvious fact that Mother Goose is immortal!"

[chaosmultiverse]

❛   read .   silently  read  a  book  alongside  my  muse . ( Harley from Pamela/Poison Ivy / okay I’m done haha. )

Harley did have her quiet moments, for as much as she liked to be loud and put on a performance of a identity she also valued her time spend without words.

Harley sat down next to Ivy, she was already reading the book, she had gotten it a few days ago and had really dug into it. As she sat down she rested her head on Ivy's shoulder, a common form of affection she would show to those she was close to.

[minicomics]

Pomni-Verse Doodles ^^

And Mini Comic

Full Page Also, the burger eats that bitty pom did was from @tadc-harlequin-au So please check them out as well ^^

[chaosmultiverse]

Harley went little wide eyed as she admired Ivy as she came to her rescue, she had seen Ivy use her powers plently of times before, but it still always left her in awe to see.

Harley let out a slightly nervous giggle when Ivy's attention turned to her "I sure do Red, lucky I have you around to get me outta it."

She brushed off dirt that wasn't there and started to get up off the floor "Yeah, I think I'm alright." She looked down to her hyena and saw it looked alright too.

continued.

Like the roots beneath the ground, she could sense that there was something wrong in her garden. That something unwelcome was present, and the plants were at unease.

Witnessing Harley with one of her hyenas, Ivy knew that she needed to disrupt what was about to happen before it could cause actual harm.

Glowing eyes faced the plant, a green aura surrounding her as she ensured that it stood down from its attacking nature, following her demand.

“You sure know how to get yourself into trouble,” she uttered, followed up by a soft sigh. Turning around to look at her, she extended a hand for Harley to take. “Are you all right?”

@chaosmultiverse

[djinnandtea]

so I got some interest on this post where I tossed out that I wanted to talk more about monster romance and race and gender. it's been really nice to see a few folks are also wanting to hear/talk about it! I'm not prepared to say anything at length [eta: this turned out to be kind of a lie] with any certainty or research to back me up, but I thought I could post a rough outline of sorts of what I'd want to research and explore further, just as a starting point for myself but also a jumping off point if anyone else has any thoughts or resources.

I guess I'll start with gender first. I'm new to the romance genre generally, but I don't think it's a surprise that the genre has always been dominated by discourse around who reads romance and the kind of gender dynamics presented in a lot of conventional romance books (which are generally heterosexual/heteronormative in a lot of problematic ways). I'm thinking of the harlequin romances my mom and grandma used to read, but also of the discussions around colleen hoover's work and then the dark romance sub-genre too.

this means that there's the obvi discussion to be had about content vs. context. who is writing the romance, what informs their writing, what messaging comes through via choices made by the author, as well as by the context the author is writing in. I'm sure if you've been reading romance--even fanfic--for a while, you're well versed in some of these conversations, even if just in a casual way.

after considering romance on a macro level, I think you'd then have to look at some of those more micro sub-genres. where are gender norms accentuated and exaggerated, and to what end? why is dark romance a thing, why do (usually) straight white women want to fantasize about being in that kind of relationship? what's the purpose being met? (this is all asked non-judgmentally, btw, as I also enjoy dark romance.)

and maybe there are folks who would dislike my comparing of monster romance to dark romance, but I do think the two are related, especially based on a lot of posts I've seen since joining this corner of tumblr. I think there's a lot of interest in exploring ideas around control and dominance that dark romance and monster romance provide contained space for. if you watched my YouTube video, I touch on this a little bit more at the end as well.

I'm sure I'm missing a lot re: gender (like all the stories being told about lgbtq+ MCs), but this is just some initial thoughts at the fore of my brain.

as for race...........well. lol.

there's the very surface level question around what percentage of monster romance FMCs are white. I genuinely don't have this answer, and I know there are a lot of nonwhite FMCs too! but I'd be really curious to know the actual numbers here. why? well, bc diversity matters. but also because of the decades long narratives around white women as victims of men of color, and how that narrative has been used to weaponize whiteness and demonize blackness specifically, and non-whiteness more generally.

I am def not saying that all monster MMCs = depictions of non-whiteness, I'm just thinking about the connections between equating non-white people/bodies with monstrosity. I'm thinking of the historical framing of non-white people and communities as sub-human, as savages, as beastly. inhumane. monsters have kinda always been a metaphor for the other, including the non-white other, and I think it'd be naive of us to assume that vestiges of that brand of racism (which is still alive and well) never inform the ways creators engage with monster romance and monsterfucking, consciously AND unconsciously.

I'm also thinking about orientalism. I'm thinking of the exotification and classification of the east. the way westerners invaded the eastern world and began treating the people there like specimens. I'm thinking about how othering and abjecting and exotifying a culture or community or person can create a power-informed version of sexualizing that culture or community or person. like, othering/abjecting/exotifying can lead to creating a perverted sort of desiring. I have a special interest here because I'm arab, so this stuff feels particularly personal, but yeah. it makes my wheels turn.

there's also a dehumanizing element of turning an othered body into a piece of sexual meat. I'm thinking about the way monsters in these books are always excessive, the way their penises are always massive. we can't pretend that doesn't seem a little familiar to the degrading ways white people have also discussed black bodies, too. like. I'm not saying wanting our monsters to have big dicks is racist, I'm just saying there are some aspects of the genre that I think deserve to be ~unpacked~ and considered in a wider context that takes this kind of stuff into account. not as a confirmed given, but as an avenue worth approaching with curiosity, if only to point out the ways in which it's NOT a product of racism/anti-blackness.

obvi this post is not backed up at present with a single source because I'm just thinking out loud based on stuff I've read previously over the years that I definitely would need to revisit, so I totally get if you read this and think I'm being ridiculous. but if you saw my first post and were kinda wondering what I had in mind when making it, this is it.

[bitter-limelight]

Hello. So uh. I recently read The Vampire Armand, I've read a bunch of books after that, but there's this one thing in it I haven't been able to get out of my head and need to talk to someone about.

There's this one scene, before Armand becomes a vamp and he's with Marius. And Marius wants him to study or whatever, and Armand doesn't want that, and Marius like wips him. And it's described in great detail and Armand both dislikes it but also seems to enjoy it on some level.

And oh my god, it's obviously (BD)SM, right? And I don't think I've ever before read actual kink in an actual book. It was soo good.

And I felt so strongly that like this is written knowing that this is BDSM. It's written as someone intimately familiar with how impact play feels. And it made me feel seen.

And I also want to know if others also felt so strongly about this scene. If people thought about it like this when the book came out.

Anyway, thanks for being a target of my rant.

Hello!

You're in good company; many of us have a similair reaction to this scene and for good reason. Anne Rice wrote...a lot of kink. I haven't read her Sleeping Beauty books myself, or her Witching Hour books, but I know enough about what's in them, plus having read almost all of TVC, to know it's obvious that Anne is a kinky mofo at least on the page. And that's a good thing! Because books and art are a safe way to explore even the most taboo aspects of kink and sexuality.

Imo, Marius and Armand go through the dance of a recognizable romance novel BDSM or D/s dynamic. What I mean by this is a power exchange relationship run through the filter of a fantasy love story. People who was well versed in real life BDSM know all about consent, safe words, SSC, all that, but when it comes to fiction, we have a space where we can bend and play with those rules.

Marius is master, this is certain. He purchased Amadeo, he literally bought him. IRL we know this isn't an aspect of real BDSM but it plays well to represent the power imbalance on the page, same as Harlequin romance novels with Fabio on the cover as the pillaging Viking bringing back an unwilling war bride. This variety of forced marriage/relationship is a very old and common trope.

And we see that Amadeo takes to it well. He loves Marius. He welcomes the love Marius gives him. He loves him even as he's being disciplined. And that includes being whipped and punished. Punishment is a common aspect of a PE relationship, and this mirrors that concept in, again, the fantasy romance unfolding on the page. Antis like to point out that Amadeo isn't consenting to this and he's a victim, but once again that's why I'm reiterating that this is a *fantasy romance*, a historical one at that, and our real world ideas of what proper consent looks like don't apply here. This book is written for adults as an escapist fantasy, a rescue fantasy, just like people have been reading for decades.

As somebody who is in a type of PE relationship, who has always desired such a dynamic and who has been reading about practice and the community for 15+ years, I'm with you. M/A speaks to me, and it's kinky elements are a feature, not a bug.

INb4 someone tells me I'm promoting abuse, throws around the P word, insinuates I'm toxic and don't know what I'm talking about.