#I AM NOT A GOOD SEWING CREATURE

[leadendeath]

the plushie i've been trying to make has been through hell already, and it's not even completed. to make him rounded and squishy, i've tried:

gusset (sewing an extra strip between the back and front to make more 3D??),

darts (cutting a line at certain points along the seams and then re-sewing those to, again, achieve more/better three dimensionality),

just simply sewing most of the two sides of fleece together roughly and without those^ extra features and half-stuffing him to see how that'd turn out (this is actually the first method i tried; thinking "oh fleece isn't a stiff fabric, it's stretchy, he'll become the right shape by himself :) WRONG!!)

same fabric each try. i don't quit and start over ever i just keep crying into the same pieces

[vaimetanyx]

Made these creatures in between cleaning the house today. I still have so much material left over from Skinhe, who knows how many more skin creatures I will make in the future. Certainly not me that's for sure!

[minminambus]

Ohhh!!! Almost done! Almost done and I’ll never have to go to this school again! One more assignment and I’m done!!!

[giantkillerjack]

Junji Ito makeup test #1

OR

Figuring out what I need in order to create a music video parody of the song "Gloria" by Laura Branigan, but make it about Tomie. I will be playing the part of a 1980s pop disco singer in the style of Junji Ito. This is high art in progress, people! 😘😂😅

photos of first test:

additional digital notes made using Clip Studio:

main takeaways:

So first off, where the fuck did my stage makeup go??? I had no idea it was missing until today!! I ended up using the makeup from when I used to perform as a mime. (Not a joke, but in a larger, cosmic sense, kind of a joke. 😆 I'll probably do it again sometime. I was adorable as a little soft butch gay mime!)

I now remember why I stopped using the dry cake face paint and switched to wet paint in a tube BUT I CANNOT FIND THE TUBESSS

I'm out of eyeliner in general, but for this, I need some kind of extra thin/fine eyeliner and preferably more than a thimble-full of paint for it.

Maybe I can thin out some matte black face paint and also get like a really nice fine brush? I guess it depends on if the paint is water-soluble.

I should probably check to see if I already have these materials, which would be SO MUCH EASIER IF I COULD FIND MY FUCKING STAGE MAKEUP--

Either way the lines need to be super thin, straight, clean, and parallel to each other. Or I could look at the rougher cross-hatching Ito sometimes uses, but I suspect tidier lines will look best with makeup.

Luckily, I already have an entire burlesque/drag act where I make myself look like a character from a black and white film. Between that and the mime thing, I theoretically have all the white gloves I will ever need lol. I guess I'm going to need white leggings, since the light gray ones won't work for this. Junji Ito is not generally greyscale as much as literally black and white.

Do I own makeup primer? I feel like yes. It definitely sounds like a good idea.

I KNOW FOR A FACT I DIDN'T THROW OUT MY STAGE MAKEUP because I had quality skin-safe glitter in basically every color, and only a FOOL would throw that out!!!!

Gloria is a song from 1983 with disco balls in the music video. Do I want to incorporate more style choices from 1983? Should I buy a wig? Something with shoulder pads maybe?? I guess that means I can keep the thick eyebrows...

Actually upon further research, I do need a sequinned shirt for this. Possibly a sequin leotard with a shiny belt. And leg warmers. OH! And a jacket with just the biggest shoulder pads I can find! Or at least the closest thing I can find to this outfit in one trip to a thrift store

Every 1980s music videos seems to have a person with their hair and clothing flowing in the wind. Now, I could buy a fan. But much funnier and cheaper would be a shot of my hair blowing in the wind that then pans to a friend furiously fanning me with a piece of cardboard or something. (Which means I'd need either two people helping with this shot, or I just have to accept that the shot's going to look kind of blurry by doing the zoom-out in post. Oh gods, I would have to write a proper shot list ahhhhhh--)

Honestly, blurry footage seems fine in some parts. I'm probably going to add some dreamy soft filters anyway to make it look like pre-digital 35mm film from an 80s vid.

I'm going to need some fake blood to splatter at me in the middle of the video. Obviously. So I guess that bit will need to be filmed outside.

The good news is the fact that the nearest easiest filming location for me is a alley full of dumpsters is actually really appropriate for this video. XD

Should I do the distressed eyebrows that a lot of Junji Ito characters have? Note to try that in the next test along with a The Crow-like smile. (My go-to high school Halloween costume. Damn, I have been painting my already pasty-pale face even whiter for a while now! 😅)

Other progress made on this project today:

I recorded myself singing a voice memo along to the rhythm of the karaoke version of Gloria that's on YouTube, but in it, I'm singing in the key that is appropriate to my voice. (A couple half-steps down, I think.)

Next step will be to load that clip onto my computer and adjust the karaoke version to match its pitch. And then like, practice the song with my new personalized backing track.

If i actually finish this, I'll have to re-record the backup vocals to say the right name.

Also the next step will be to see if my interest in this lasts long enough to at least get me to find my frickin' stage makeup.

Additional notes:

The original music video for Holding Out for a Hero is exactly the right energy for this, and now I absolutely need shots of me in front of (badly green-screened) flames, on my knees while singing passionately and directly at the camera and presumably wearing kneepads tbh

Omg what if I included a little "photoshoot" sequence and really fucked with the photos to make them all blurry-body-horror nasty as they flash by real quick?? Get like, a glitch effect in the mix hell yeah 😎😎😎

Edit: Omg i just remembered I have these short-shorts with a reanimator quote on the ass! ("Blasphemy? Before what god?") i know what shorts to wear for this now!!

Oh! Another idea! What if the video starts with me reading Tomie and then closing the book and picking up the nearest microphone-shaped thing and using that to start singing - and every 30 seconds or so of footage, it quietly changes to a different item (one of which is absolute the black wand vibrator that I have XD)

Note: I can easily shorten the song if I only have funny shots planned for like 2/3 of the song length. No need to get too repetitive.

[ineffablehubbys]

This is the high quality content that I would only expect from tumblr

I know we generally characterize the spectrum of David Tennant characters from “Living Embodiment of Depression” to “Flamboyant Gay Slut” with various shades in between, but I think we’re overlooking the OTHER spectrum he operates on, which is like. “ The Single Most Sopping Wet Autism Creature In Existence” to “Guy Who Kills and Tortures For Fun.”

[cryobabiess]

girldad!geta pleeease!

Filia Divina

Pairing: Emperor Geta x Wife!reader

Tags: childbirth, pregnancy, miscarriage mentioned, implied infanticide, soft!geta (if you squint), historically accurate practices, NOT BETA READ SO IF YOU SEE SOMETHING WONKY NO YOU DIDN’T, good ole fashioned misogyny

AN: Tollere Liberos is in reference to an ancient Roman tradition where a father decides whether or not to accept a newborn as their child. Rejected children were abandoned via ‘expositus’ (aka dead ass just leaving a baby out in the wilderness). So basically girldad!geta but historically accurate lol. Enjoy!

It had only been an hour since you birthed her—a sweet little creature with curls the color of honey and supple skin like the flesh of a ripe plum. With a mighty wail fit to be heard across an empire, she came into the world. Your goddess, Juno, generously granted her the health and strength you prayed for. You rejoiced, though your joy was not shared.

The midwives cleaned your daughter in grave silence, save for the whispers of the politic-men gathered to witness the birth of Rome’s divine son. They huddled together in the far corner of the chamber as your girl laid against her mother’s chest for the first time.

“It cannot be true—look again!” Geta frantically commands the weary doctor. He paces across the marble floor in a state of distress. A litany of expressions troubles his face; disbelief, panic, betrayal.

“My lord, it is not what was desired, but I assure you—the child is female. You have my greatest sorrows.” The doctor mournfully bows his head, knowing better than to look the short tempered prince in the eye.

Geta was persistent, diligently sewing his seed in your womb since your holy union. You passed two of his children as blood, and he held you as you suffered through the pain. He watched your body grow when his efforts succeeded, massaged your taut skin with olive oil, and fed you bread soaked in sweet wine when you felt ill. He even kneeled at Jupiter’s alter to call for the safe delivery of his first son and the health of his wife—All these precautions only to be cruelly slighted.

“The gods have punished me, yet I’ve done nothing but bend to their will.” Geta holds his head in disbelief, his devastation made evident by a deep scowl.

Senator Gracchus tentatively approaches your distraught husband, resting a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

“My lord, we must atone for our offenses, whatever they may be. It is a grave misfortune indeed, but your bride—“

Rage ignites across Geta’s face as he pulls away from his constituent’s touch.

“Speak tactfully of your empress if you wish to keep your tongue, Senator.” He seethes through a tight jaw. Gracchus relents, his tone softening considerably. He continues slowly and with caution.

“Two winters have passed since your union, and she has yet to bring forth an heir of Rome. Her body has proved inhospitable. The gods have sent a message, and it would be foolish to turn a cheek—you must heed this omen! ”

Geta takes a moment, carefully considering the senator’s plea for reason. He looks back to you, Obsidian eyes gazing down at the linen sheet that obscures your sleeping child.

“I am a conduit of their will. Tollere Liberos will prevail and the gods will decide through me.” Geta turns to you fully. Your heart becomes heavy in your chest as you search your husband’s face for tenderness, but see nothing but solid stone.

In your dreams, you imagined the day Geta approached his first heir as sweet—that he might kiss your reddened cheeks and proudly claim his child. Never did you think the sight of him would cause you to tighten your grip and cower away. He looms over the bed where you lay, exhausted and perspiring, like a holy monument.

“Show me the child.”

“My love, I beg you—“

“Your emperor commands it.” Geta callously interrupts.

You unwrap your daughter in your arms, trembling hands moving as gingerly as possible. She shifts in her sleep, curling her precious limbs toward her delicate body, but does not wake. Geta’s eyes widen at the sight of her.

“So it is true. My faithful wife’s womb has betrayed me.” His gaze softens. Something stirs behind it, but you are not sure what.

“If you wish to return her life, then be merciful and do the same with mine.” Your heart twists and aches, your love for your emperor becoming a knife in your rib.

To your shock, Geta reaches out to his daughter, takes her tiny fist in his palm, and runs a thumb over her blushing knuckles. She wraps her hand around her father’s finger with a mighty yawn.

You have seldom seen your restless husband become so still.

“She bears your resemblance.” Geta’s voice is but a whisper. His gaze doesn’t stray from her. It appears his heart aches the same as yours.

“And a head of golden hair.” You can only offer an exhausted smile.

Geta takes his daughter into his arms for the first time.

“The gods have spoken!” He declares to the small gathering of senators. Your emperor raises his girl above the laurels atop his head. Some look on with horror, and others with pride.

“She will have my name! It is done.”

As your daughter’s first weeks pass, Geta’s tenderness only grows. In the lavender hours of dawn, you wake to find him cradling her in the crook of his arm. He speaks to her softly.

“Poor girl, you have wounded your father’s pride. My, what tragedy.”

You smile at the sound of her gentle crooning as your husband assuages her back to sleep.

“A son would belong to Rome—but you, dear Septima, will belong to me.”

[catsteeth]

Cold Steel Hot Skin

Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem Stark Reader 

+:✿ Request ✿:+ : part 2 - part 3

Request: “Jacaerys and FemStark!Reader have been betrothed during the whole war. Team Black wins the war and Rhaenyra is crowned queen. After Jace and the Reader are married, the night is filled with celebration. Reader pulls Jace away and gives him head while he's sitting on the throne. Sub!Jace with lots of praise and reassurance.”  CW: MDNI, SMUT, oral sex (m rec), afab reader, arranged marriage, NSFW themes, misogyny, mention of death, praise, sub jace, dom reader, mention of parental death.

Word Count: 5k

You were prepared to marry a high-born son, you were prepared for it all your life. You were taught how to make a man happy. Watch your tongue, speak little, and never your mind. Do whatever your husband commands of you, give no resistance. Smile and stay amenable. Only you were not your mother's idea of a perfect wife by nature. 

No, you were raised alongside your brothers. You favored horse riding to sewing, archery to singing, and hunting to practicing your courtesies. 

However as the threat of war drew closer, the need for the North’s strength grew more desperate. The house of the dragon did not know whose head ruled it. Aegon the drunken prince or Rhaenyra the king's firstborn. Both the greens and the blacks came to your brother, Cregan Stark who now ruled as warden of the north. They wanted the North's strength to earn their power. 

Cregan only bent his knee to Rhaenyra after he spoke with Prince Jacaerys. The men were similar in age and he felt the Prince would be better suited to the throne than his uncle. 

Though armies and power are not handed to anyone for free, in return for the North’s support, Cregan asked that his sisters be considered for one of the Queen's sons to wed, or perhaps one of his brothers for one of her nieces. 

You hoped desperately that you would be spared from this fate. You never had any interest in men or marriage. Your septa’s always told you to obey your husband. That if you didn’t perhaps he would hit you, or take you by force. Honestly, you feared a husband, they sounded like horrid creatures.

It took time to hear back, but soon a raven arrived. It said what you feared it might. The crowned prince himself would take the north’s eldest daughter to wed. 

You practiced holding your tongue and putting on a smile. You found it easy not to speak, speaking would do you no good anyway. But forcing a smile was a difficulty. 

You fidgeted with the beaded embellishments of the embroidery on your dress. Biting your cheek you stood by the door of your house's great hall. Listening to your brother and the prince speaking. “My prince, my sister Lady Stark.”

You looked at the prince cautiously. Though he was not as frightful as you thought he might be. He was quite handsome. But that did not mean he was kind. You curtseyed as you were taught to do hundreds of times. “I hope I do not disappoint you, my prince.” You spoke in a higher and softer tone than you did naturally. 

Jace took your hand, kissing your knuckles gently, “You could never, my Lady.”

He seemed gentle, and kind. 

Your fears did not rest, however. He was kind in front of you brother, a large and imposing man. That did not mean he would be kind when away from peering eyes. 

The ride in the carriage felt uncomfortable. You were frightened by him in honesty. You knew that you would wed a high-born man but never did you think you’d marry a prince, and never did you think you would become a queen.

You were unsure of him, unsure of what he was like. Would he hit you? Would he yell? He was to be the king, surely he could do whatever he liked. 

Your unease only worsened when your eyes fell back onto him, noticing that he was still looking at you. 

As soon as he noticed your uneasy gaze, he smiled to himself and looked down “I apologize I am staring.” he said shaking his head. 

You shrugged, “That’s alright. I am to be yours by law, you may stare at me if you wish to.” You were trained for this moment, this was your first willing submission.

Jace’s eyes looked up at you, his gaze narrowed at you in confusion, “I do not own you, my Lady.” He leaned forward towards you, “If I do something to displease you I wish to know.”

You felt surprised, not only was this man willing for you to be your own person but he encouraged it. He wanted you to be a participant in his life and this marriage. 

You took a breath, then dropped your doe-like expression. Replacing it with your natural stern demeanor, common in the North. “Why are you staring at me?” You asked plainly now in your natural tone. It made Jace smile. “If I do truly disappoint I have other sisters-” 

“You do not. I did not lie.” Jace interrupted you, it almost made you flinch. Perhaps you were too bold with your words. Though his eyes softened towards you, letting you relax in the warmth of his gaze. “I do not want your sisters or any other woman.” Once again he surprised you. How could he say such a thing when he did not know you? Even if he believed you to be the most beautiful woman in the world, for all he knew you could have been the most cruel woman alive. “I am staring because I am taken by you.” He finished with a soft grin.

You blushed slightly. Feeling a grin beginning to tug at the corners of your mouth, you looked away from him. “You do not know me.” You said, shaking your head.

Jace chuckled to himself, “You are skeptical. I know that now.” 

You smiled slightly at his amusement, “People should be.” you said with a raised brow. 

He smiled as he bit his lip, “And now I know you are intelligent.” he said with a nod. 

You could not hide your smile this time. You scoffed a laugh as you looked outside your carriage, noticing the large green beast in the sky flying above you. “I thought you would be on your dragon.” You said looking towards Vermax in the sky. 

“I wanted time to speak plainly with you, and Vermax is not yet big enough for two,” Jace said earnestly. You felt yourself beginning to relax in his presence. 

You looked back to Jace, “Not sure how I would fare on a dragon's back.” you said with a stifled laugh. 

“I think you’ll do fine considering you’re a skilled horse rider,” Jace said with a smirk as your eyes widened. 

Once again this prince had surprised you. You narrowed your eyes at him and leaned in forward, “You do know about me.” 

Jace smiled, stifling a laugh as he looked down, “I confess I might have read quite a bit about your family before coming here.” He looked back at you, “And then I found that I was reading quite a bit about you.” He said as if he were admitting a great secret. 

He was not lying either. When prompted with the offer of marriage, Jace was hesitant. He even suggested wedding his little brother Joffrey to one of your younger sisters. But once he began to read of your family, he found himself wanting to know more and more about you. He found himself fascinated by you, and once there was nothing left to read about you he decided he’d rather marry you. 

You felt heat dash across your cheeks as your blush revealed how much he’d flattered you. “A dull read for a Prince, I am sure.” 

He shook his head, “Far from it.” He said earnestly, his eyes looking at you as if you were a beautiful and extravagant painting. 

You and he talked the entire ride to the ship to Dragonstone. He continued to ask you questions about yourself throughout the ride. You did not ask him any in return. You did not know what to ask, what could you ever have in common with a prince? 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Once at Dragonstone, most of your days were spent completing errands for the queen, or if you were lucky, sharing a thought or opinion at the small council. She thought it was important for you to participate as you were to be queen one day.

You also spent much of your time avoiding the prince. You caught him staring at you many times, and his gaze lingered on you as you walked through a room. 

But you hardly had a moment alone to yourself. You had nary a moment to ride a horse, practice your swordplay, or even read. So once you were able to be alone, you decided to practice your archery. Although you did not know that the prince also shared that desire. 

At The top of a tall hill, was a training field. It had tall wooden targets made specifically for practicing your arrow's aim. As you made your way up the steep path to the top, you were caught off guard by the sound of an arrow hitting a wooden target that stood mere inches from where the path ended. 

You continued up the path, peering behind the wooden target to see Jace pointing his crossbow at that same target. “My prince.” You said calmly despite his aim. 

“My Lady!” Jace said surprised, and pointing the crossbow away from you, “My apologies.”

“No need.” You shrugged, “I am not maimed.”

He stifled a laugh, “I should hope not.”

You approached the wooden target, looking at the arrow that had pierced it with clear ferocity as the wood splintered and broke from the impact, “That’s quite the shot.” You said as your fingers trailed along the arrow.

“Thank you-”

You leaned against the wooden target, “Whom did you imagine it to be?” you asked looking back toward Jace.

Jace hesitated unsure if he should say, “A green.” You could tell by his tone he was holding back the truth.

“Liar.” You said with a grin. Jace looked at you surprised, never had anyone dared question him other than his family. It was refreshing to have you challenge him, “I am sure it was a green but it was more personal than that.” You said pushing yourself off of the wooden target and walking towards Jace.

“Aemond Targaryen.” He said almost immediately. You stopped your steps, feeling somewhat guilty you forced him to divulge such a personal matter. You knew of what happened to his brother. 

You looked at him gently, “Aemond should be frightened.” You said earnestly. 

“They all should be.” He said, attempting to direct his attention towards anything else, “My mother's armies are fierce and unrelenting.” 

“As are you.” You said softly as you continued to walk closer toward him, “Grief is a powerful thing, the want for vengeance even more so.”

Jace felt emotion getting the better of him. But seeing as he was to marry you, he might as well feel able to confide in you, “I miss him.” Jace said weakly.

You were silent for a moment. Unsure of how you could comfort him. But soon you spoke, “I lost mine own sister.” Jace looked at you, “She too was younger than I.” You said with a nod stepping towards him, “I am sure you read about it. It was the cold that took her. The cold wind brings sickness. It makes us northerners stronger, we suffer each sickness so that we never suffer them again.” You stopped speaking for a moment, unsure of how you could continue your story, “But for those who are too weak, too small, too fragile… The cold wind kills them.” You looked at Jace with understanding, another name for love, “I spent years angry at any gust of cold air I felt. I cannot imagine how you feel. To have a face and a name to place that anger.” Jace only looked at you, he never had someone who could understand him so well. He didn’t have the words. But you didn’t need them. You approached him, getting close to his side as you adjusted his grip on his crossbow. “You should hold the stock closer to your shoulder.” you said pushing it to the correct position for him. 

Jace looked over his shoulder to you, “I think I am in love with you.” He spoke earnestly, and softly. 

You looked back at him, “I know you are.” you spoke as earnestly as he did. 

Jace dropped his crossbow. He put your face into his hands, cupping your jaw gently. He looked at you for just a moment. He was going to ask for your permission to kiss you but you pressed your lips to his before he could. “I don’t know how I was ever frightened by you.” You smiled as he stifled a laugh and kissed you again.

You and he from that moment forth, were nearly inseparable. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

After the war was fought and over, the Blacks were victorious in their goal to retake Rhaeynra’s rightful throne. Blood was shed of course, but now that it was done with it was time for celebration. And what better way to celebrate than for a royal wedding? 

Your gown was heavy, and although you had little regard for fashions even you could appreciate how beautiful it was. 

You never thought you’d feel so proud to wear another man's cloak, adorned with the symbol and colors of his house. But you wore the black and red three-headed dragon on your shoulders with great pride and honor. 

Your pride did not subside the whole evening. After your vows and kiss were performed, you and your now husband danced in the great hall as the rest of the guests ate, sang, and danced about the room.

Jace held you closely as you danced slowly. Your eyes locked onto his, and both of you were simply dazed with happiness and love. “My husband, the dragon.” You said sweetly with your forehead pressed against his. 

Jace’s hand ran over your hair gently, careful not to disturb your intricately braided hair, “My wife, the wolf.” He said with a proud and love-drunk smile. 

Your eyes roamed the room, you could see each high-born girl looking at you with jealous eyes. It made you grin, “I think I have made every girl in the seven kingdoms green with envy.” you said leaning into Jace, your eyes still scanning the room. 

“And I have driven every man to a jealous rage.” He said with an amused smile as his eyes roamed the room as well.

“Because you’ll be king over them all.” You said gently as you closed your eyes, laying your head against his shoulder. 

He leaned in closer to your ear, “Because I’ve married the most beautiful, intelligent, and fierce woman in the known world.” He said sweetly. 

You raised your head from his shoulder, looking into his eyes. You could see the love he had for you just by his look. You did not care if it would be considered polite or not, your lips pressed against his own. He did not care either. His hand held you at the nape of your neck. 

“Daughter,” A voice called out, it startled you slightly. Daughter was a title you had not been called in years now with your parent’s cold in the crypt. You looked over to see the Queen herself. Rhaenyra looked towards her son, still holding tightly onto you. “Might I have a moment, Jace?” Jace nodded and gave you a small kiss on your temple before leaving you and your mother to speak. 

Rhaenyra took you by the arm, walking around the ballroom. “Well, I know your mother could not be here today and I suppose I wanted to give you a word of motherly advice. Political marriage can be a difficult thing to adjust to.” She said with a sigh, “Though it seems my son has had no difficulty in that regard, nor you.” She finished as she looked at you with a warm smile.

You smile back at her, though feeling somewhat embarrassed, “Your son is an honorable man, and I am honored to be his wife.” You said with a nod.

She rubbed your arm gently with her hand, “I have no doubts you will serve our house well.”

“I can only hope so. Your house has been most gracious-”

“Your house.” She corrected you, “It is your house now, my dear.” 

You did not know what to say, you’d not felt a motherly touch in so long. “Thank you, your grace.” You said with a smile and respectful nod.

“Seven blessings to you, my dear.” She said smiling, before leaving you. 

Afterward, you tried your best to reunite with your new husband, only he was nowhere to be found. As you walked around the great hall you were approached by many guests, all high-born lords and ladies who never paid you any mind before today. They all congratulated you with great respect and spoke oh so highly of you and your family. No doubt attempting to gain favor in the eyes of their future queen. Between this sudden overbearing attention, you now could not help but notice how grand this wedding was. It was far more extravagant than any wedding in the north had ever been. 

You drowned your nerves with wine. But you wouldn’t feel any better until you found Jace again. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─

Once the party was dying out like an exhausted candle, you were determined to find Jace once again.

Somewhat angry and somewhat concerned you attempted to hunt down the prince without causing concern. Soon you were pushing open the large heavy doors to the throne room.

Pushing the door open just enough to look in, you signed as you saw your husband standing in the room staring at the throne.

“I thought you ran away.” You said pushing the doors to the Throne room open. 

Jace looked over his shoulder at you and held out his hand towards you, “From the festivities. Not from you.” 

You grabbed hold of his hand, “I was quite miserable without you.” You said in annoyance with a pout as he pulled you into his side. 

His hand trailed up and down over your back soothingly, “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have left you, I won’t again, I swear it to you.” He said as his hand then snaked around your waist holding you even closer.

You nodded in agreement, “The celebration was generous, far more generous than I am used to.” You said trying not to sound ungrateful. Your fingers trailed over the lavish embroidery of dragons and fire on Jace’s overcoat. “I was happy to hear there would be no bedding ceremony,” you said casually just to tease him, your eyes still following your finger as it traced the intricate stitching of his coat.

Jace’s eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed, “You think that I would allow that?” He said with a slightly aggressive tone as he held you by your chin forcing you to look at him, “Allowing men to paw at you?” 

You couldn’t keep up your facade and your grin gave away your intentions. Jace let your chin go as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Such a protective husband you are proving to be.” You said as you kissed the corner of his mouth, “Still even if there is no ceremony-” You kissed the sensitive bit between his jawline and his neck, making him hiss, “I was rather excited for what comes after the wedding.” you said with a luscious gaze.

Jace couldn’t help but widely grin as he stifled a chuckle, “No one is more eager than I am.” He said caressing your cheek, “I just,” He sighed, “I find myself overwhelmed.”

“The war is over, and won.” You said softly, “You should be happy.” 

“I am happy.” He said assertively, not wanting you to think otherwise. Then he sighed as he looked towards the throne, “The burden is a heavy one.”

You looked towards the throne as well, “The crown was never meant to be light.” Your eyes then went back to Jace, “Those who are best fit for it proceed it in caution, not enthusiasm.” You already spoke with the wisdom of a queen.

“Are you so comfortable to assume the position of queen?” Jace asked defensively, he did not always like being proven wrong.

You were not upset by his question, “No. Quite the opposite.” You said with a shake of your head, “I always valued my privacy. Never liked having eyes on me, never liked people talking about me.” 

“Perhaps you would have been happier to marry a different man.” He sulked.

You narrowed your brows, “Is that how you feel?” You questioned him assertively, sick of his self-pity. 

His demeanor changed, becoming softer, “No.” He said holding your jaw gently, “I do not want anyone else.” 

You placed a hand on his that held your face, “I know this marriage was arranged but I am happier for it. You are an honorable man, who will make a great king.” You spoke gently.

Jace shook his head, “I have no doubt you will be a beloved queen. You are wise and caring. Born of a noble house.” He said looking at you with admiration.

“As are you.“ You said, wanting him to see himself worthy of his inheritance. 

Jace shook his head and looked down as if he were ashamed, “You know what I am.”

You rolled your eyes, “I care not for such trivial matters. You are the son of the rightful queen.” 

“And a bastard.” He said frustrated  

“And I thank the gods for it.” You said stoically, “I have a taste for men with dark hair.” Your hand combed through his dark curls.

“Funny.” He said without amusement, “But what will people think of a bastard as their king? What will they think of our children-”

“When you take the throne you will no longer be a Velaryon. You will be a Targaryen. That is not a lie. Our children will be Targaryens, that is not a lie.” You interrupted him, already defensive over your future children, “You are a dragon rider, a brave and… handsome man.” You said, trailing off in the end as your eyes admired his features, “I think you just need to get adjusted to the role is all.” You said as you took Jace’s hand, pulling him towards the Throne. “Sit.” You commanded, and be obeyed, 

Jace sat on the throne, and you were overcome with desire. He looked so powerful, and he fit in it so perfectly. There was no one else better suited to it. 

Jace however did not share your feelings, “This is foolish-” He began about to push himself out of the throne.

“Wait,” You said, placing a hand on his chest, pushing him back onto the throne. You smirked at him as you stepped closer towards him, now standing between his legs, “I quite like the look of you in this chair.” You said as you ran your hand through his hair somewhat roughly, making him look up to you. 

Jace grinned, “I quite like the look of you in this gown.” He said as his eyes trailed over your body in the ivory gown.

“Do you like it like this?” You asked as your fingers pulled at the laces of your gown, making it loosen around your shoulders, “Or like this?” You asked as your bare shoulders became exposed and you hiked up your skirts and straddled Jace’s lap.

Overcome by desire, Jace’s hands roamed your body with an untamable want, and his lips found yours with a deep hunger. Since your time in the training yard, you and Jace had kissed many, many, many times. But this was desperate, this was longing. His tongue found your own, and you never knew the warmth that would come with it. This kind of kiss was new. 

You moved your mouth to his neck, kissing down until you were unbuttoning his shirt desperate for more skin to kiss. 

He could not help but lean into your affections. His hands grasped harder onto your sides, his lips found your exposed skin. The pleasure sent a chill through your spine. You felt a candle light between your legs. Desperate for more, you began to grind your clothed cunt against his mounting excitement.

You smirked as you heard Jace gasp at your bold movements, “We can’t, not in here-” He said breathlessly.

“Why not? You’re the king.” You said softly with a gentle kiss to his neck, “My king.” You smirked at him as you opened his overcoat and blouse, admiring his body that was new to you. “You’ve kissed me before have you not? You are to fuck me tonight are you not? Why can I not sample you?” You asked sweetly, but darkly as you kissed down his chest, over his stomach, until you were kneeling in front of him between his knees as he sat on the throne. 

As your hand gently grazed over his thighs, he cupped your cheek gently. “You make me weak. I can’t contain my urges.” He said with a weak smile, too love-drunk to think.

You shook your head, “I don’t want them contained.” You said as you kissed the bulge his throbbing cock was creating beneath his constricting trousers. 

Jace tried but failed to conceal his moan of pleasure, “I’ll do whatever my queen commands of me.” he spoke breathlessly, his eyes already begging to roll back in ecstasy though he tried to maintain his composure. 

You rested your head against his thigh, teasingly close to his cock. Your eyes were that of a siren of the sea as you looked up at him, “I only wish to serve…” Your hand began to trail over toward the silk laces of his trousers, “My king.” you said as you began to free him from the confines of his clothing.

He gasped again as he watched you, “Gods be good.” 

You pulled the expensive fabric of his wedding attire down and his cock eagerly sprung out. You smirked as you looked at it, “Fit for a king.” You said with a smirk, reaching for his length, but stopping just inches before you could touch him, “Can I?” You wanted to be certain before you did it, and he eagerly and desperately nodded. As you took him in your hand he groaned in pleasure. You stroked it slowly, almost painfully slow. With each stroke, you were fixated on the noises you were drawing out of him. Desperate for more, You licked up his shaft before taking him in your mouth, or as much of him as you could take. Sucking slowly and gently, his moans and the lewd sounds from your mouth echoed throughout the empty throne room. As you released him from your mouth desperate for air, you continued to stroke him, “You taste so good.” You said breathlessly. 

Jace mewled, and took a deep breath, trying his best not to finish right then and there, “You feel so good, your mouth feels so so good.” He whined beautifully, throwing his head back against the cold steel of the throne.

You began to kiss the tip of his cock, savoring the taste of his precum as it leaked from him, “You like it?” You asked teasingly innocent. 

“Y-yes.” He stammered as he groaned

You suddenly stopped your movements, ceasing all attention you were giving him, it was enough to drive him mad as he groaned in agony, “Have you ever had a woman touch you like this?” You asked leaning your head against his thigh, as if you were completely unaware of the torture you were putting him through. 

He shook his head eagerly, “N-no, only you.”

You smirked as you took him back in your hand, “You truly are an honorable man.” You gave his cock a final kiss before you turned your attention towards his balls, taking one in your mouth. You were unfamiliar with what you were doing but somehow it came naturally. Your desire drove you in the right direction. Sucking on him as you stroked his cock.

This sensation was all too new for Jace, he threw his head back and moaned erratically, “F-f-f” he stammered

You released him, followed by a lewd noise, “You can curse.” You told him, knowing what he wanted to do. 

“Fuck…” He said as if he had resurfaced after being drowned, He looked down at you longingly, “Can I touch you?” He asked desperately. 

You couldn’t help but smile at his sweetness, “Of course, my king.” you said with a nod, taking him back in your mouth again.

His hands went to your head, petting your hair sweetly, being sure to keep your hair out of your face. His moaning only got louder, “Awh, thank you- thank you.” He whined, “You’re so beautiful.” He said as he watched you lovingly stroke and suck on his throbbing length. You squeezed him in a particular way that made his muscles twitch, “Awh! I love you-” He said, his mind empty, but meaning every word. 

You released him for just a moment to breathe, “Say it again.” you commanded before taking in your mouth again. 

You could feel his grip on your hair tightening, “I love-” He nodded, and you began to stroke fast, suck harder, “Awh!” he moaned out in pleasure as your moments picked up, “I love you, with everything I have.” He spoke breathlessly, “My wife, my queen.” 

You could feel his body tensing underneath your touch, you could feel his cock throbbing when harder, his breath and moans more erratic. You knew what was coming, so you did what he hoped to all the Gods that you wouldn’t do, and you stopped. You released him from your mouth and your touch. “Uh-uh.” You said standing up, and pulling your gown back up around your shoulders.

Jace looked at you with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows, “You tease me?” he asked desperately, attempting to catch his breath. 

You smirked at the sight in front of you, he sprawled out on the throne nearly fully exposed, “I want you to spill inside me. How else am I to give you children?” You said in a teasing tone. 

Jace huffed but smirked, knowing his release was going to be something he earned. He pushed himself back into his trousers and stood. 

He smirked at you as he began to rush you out of the throne room, no doubt towards your now shared chambers. Stopping for a moment to push you against the throne room doors to kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue. 

As your kiss was released you smiled at him, “I love you, you know?” you spoke gently.

He stifled a laugh and nodded, “I know you do.” he said before kissing you once more before pushing you out of the room and chasing you toward your chambers. 

[bookshelfdreams]

I know it's been half a year and I don't feel like digging up the original post rn but I finally got started ooooonnnnn

✨The American Duchess Wrap Cape✨

Carol Kimball made a printable version of the pattern which she generously shares for free on her blog along with instructions for alterations and assembly (PLUS pockets! And a hood!). This is what I'll be working with.

I forgot to take a picture, but I'm using a grey-green (sage? I'd call this sage) boiled wool as top fabric, and dark blue flannel for the lining. Because I am an idiot, and also due to my general hubris, I have forgone the mockup. Instead, i decided to try on every pattern piece as I go along and see what alterations it needs. I am sure I will not regret this.

(I do have a lot of fabric, so there's room for error. When I bought it earlier this year I thought I would do the hood, but I have since decided against it - with the colour, a hood would make me look like some twee forest creature. Not that that wouldn't be an amazing fashion concept. Unfortunately, hoods don't work great with scarves and shawls, so no hood this time.)

First (after printing and taping together the pattern pieces) was extending the shoulder seam. The original pattern has tiny shoulders, which might work fine for some (although, tbh, even the og pictures of AD's reconstruction seem to fit the model kinda awkwardly), but for me, too small. Kimball recommends making a sort of bulge on the front piece so it actually goes over the bust, which I did; I freehanded it and figured I would cut it out, sew in the darts and then check if it fits.

I wasn't sure how to mark where to put the darts without cutting up the pattern. In the end, I just put a little bit of white thread through the start and end points, pulled off the paper and tied them off loosely. That worked really well, and it made folding the darts easier, too.

Anyway, the front piece seemed to fit! So I used it to adjust the pattern for the lining, cut out the two front pieces, and put in the darts there. Then I cut open the darts, finished the seams that needed finishing, and pressed all my seams, as if I knew what I was doing and wasn't a chaotic craft gremlin.

Next, I cut out the back piece (the pattern prints only one half, but I mirrored it and then taped the two halves together, so I wouldn't have to fumble around trying to cut it on the fold. That would not have ended well) in both top and lining, sewed them together with the according front pieces at the shoulders, and pressed the seams again.

Then I ran out of blue sewing thread. But since it's 20:00 anyway, and my sewing machine is very loud, I'll be a considerate neighbour and stop with the noise-heavy activities. Tomorrow I'll have to go to the inferior craft store (the good one is closed on tuesdays) to get some fusible interfacing for the collar and pockets (up next!). Also blue thread.

(The cat was helping, as always)

[thenightfolknetwork]

Hello. I'm, um, not entirely sure how to talk about this. I hope it's okay if I misspeak. I'm a human, right, so I think that needs to be clear more than anything, but I've been very involved in the creature community for years now. I live by a great big lake and I always liked to walk down the shore late at night or early in the morning, you know, just to try and get out of my own head, and one night ages ago I accidentally tripped over someone's jacket and twisted my ankle. It was a gorgeous fur jacket, too, not like any kind of fur I'd seen in a jacket before, but just stunningly soft and thick as Hell.

Now, of course I didn't take it, that'd be awful, but also I had just hurt myself in kind of a nasty way and so it wasn't like I had anything else to do but sit by the shore next to the jacket and waited, and yeah, a few hours later one of the lake seals popped its head out of the water, looked at me for a good long while, and then...well, I mean, you know how the rest of the story goes, I'm sure.

Anyway, it's been a few years now and I've become really close to this family. I didn't really know anyone in my town before meeting them and I'm not on speaking terms with my own folks, so in a lot of ways these people have become my family, and it's an honor that they trust me to keep guard of their cloaks and such when they go out. But I've got this problem, right, and it's just...over the years it's felt less and less like I fit in with other humans. All my friends are nightfolk now, my family hates me even more because they're bigots--in this night and age, can you fucking believe it--and it's just like every night I get further and further away from the shore.

I'm just scared because...I don't *want* to stop drifting away. I've had dreams of joining them down there in the lake, practically every night for months on end. I've tried doing research into methods of joining the community but I don't want to become a vampire, I don't fancy any lunar-aligned nonsense, nothing has felt right except selkies, but I can't decide if I'm just self aware enough that I need a push from an outside viewer to try and accept something I already know full well...or if no, actually, that little voice in my stupid head that won't go away that keeps calling me a fraud, an invader, an appropriator--what if the reason it's not going away is because it's right and I really don't belong?

Just...please be honest with me. Am I a complete asshole for spending hours every day trying not to just outright beg my family--sorry, chosen family--to help me sew myself a cloak, or is there something to this?

First of all, reader, please rest assured. As long as you are speaking from a place of kindness and a willingness to learn, you don't need to worry about using all the correct terminology. I always try to listen generously when people come to me in need, and I encourage our followers to do the same.

Unfortunately I can well believe that bigots like your biological relatives still exist. I'm glad you've been able to extract yourself from their hateful society, and have found comfort, support and kinship among the nightfolk.

You say there is a little voice in your head calling you a fraud, casting doubt on the validity of your feelings. As much as you might want to push it away and stop your ears, I want you to listen to that voice, just for a little while. Pay attention to the language it uses and what ideas it seems to have about the world.

And then ask yourself: is this my voice? Does that sound like me? Or does this sound like a last, desperate, wriggling remnant of the people I've worked so hard to distance myself from?

Every one of us is raised with a narrative, a story about the world and our place in it, and how we should treat the people around us. We're told that story by our parents, by our teachers and schoolmates, by television and books and a million other sources. The story is so vast and so all-encompassing, it takes an enormous effort to be able to see any single part of it clearly.

Imagine, then, how hard we have to work to realise some of that story is untrue, or harmful, fed by hatred and fear. To start untangling ourselves from the rotting, strangling roots of the story we've known all our lives, and start planting something new and fresh and honest.

It sounds to me like this little voice is one of those lingering strands of the story you were raised with – one where liminality is nothing to admire or strive for, and where you cannot be trusted to know your own mind, and your own needs. It's time to tell yourself a better story.

You've found people who honour you with their trust and who make you feel supported and loved, as you deserve. You admire them, and want to be like them. None of this sounds “stupid” to me.

This is not a decision to be taken lightly. By all means, take your time, and talk your feelings through with your family. But I think you already know what story you want for yourself, reader – and for what it's worth, I think the world will be better for its telling.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

[notnights]

your gangle cosplay is really cool, do you have any tips for someone trying to make their own?

Thank you! I appreciate it. And it depends on what you're going for with it! I've seen a lot of different Gangle cosplayers with different interpretations which are creative and fun to make I imagine! So I can't really advise any specifics on crafting etc since I don't know what you're going for.

For me when I cosplay I want to get as "accurate" as I can with the character design. I unfortunately am not very good at sewing and shaping and stuff but you can see that didn't stop me, I made it as well as I could. And Gangle is obviously one of the more difficult characters I've ever decided to cosplay so wasn't ever going to be accurate with her unless I did like... a puppet method or something. (From my understanding this falls under the "creature" cosplay category?)

Idk if these will help at all, but it's good to start with visualizing ideas you want to try for before hand:

Ideas for a Navi, Bill Cipher and Gir from Invader ZIM cosplays that went no where.

Thinking outside the box also helps in the sense of, other forms of crafting, skills or items, you wouldn't think to use might help with what you're making!

Examples:

I used fursuit methods to help build my NiGHTS cosplay, I also used quilting methods to help make Gangle's ribbon limbs.

When making Circus Baby I wanted an exhaust fan that actually spun, turns out there are plenty of tutorials on how to make your own fidget spinners so used that method to make a light weight one out of cardboard and pennies for that piece! When making Gangle 2.0 to keep the shape I wanted to infuse wire into the edges of the ribbon limbs. The best method for this would have been to hand sew floral wire to an extra piece of fabric with fishing wire, then sew that one in with the edges of the the limbs. I however was only 1 and a half week away from a con and still had a ton of pieces to finish so I got a bunch of cheap wired ribbon, and infused those inside the limbs. (Kept the shape well enough but I'm at the point where I want to remake them again lol.)

Instead of using traditional adhesives like hot glue, maybe something like silicon adhesive can be used and other more hardware based unities can be used. Hardware stuff in general helps. Similar stuff they sell at craft stores can often be found cheaper at hardware stores. I've had the benefit that my father is a handyman so I grew up with a lot of that tool usage, and loved going to hardware stores with him because sometimes I'd find something that would make me be like "WAIT I CAN USE THIS For that art project I've been trying to do."

This admittedly also comes from my doll customization hobby, which believe it or not, has a lot of power tool usage to make those pretty little dolls! Some of these things I used for my Gangle. Making cute ribbon outfits or bows for dolls, you have to burn the edges of the ribbon you've cut, least it fray (in Gangle 1.0. each ribbon you see has been lovely burnt by candle LOL) when Gangle 2.0's ribbon fabric it would run after getting snagged on stuff, I made a "sealer" I'd use for making doll wigs. Watered down glue (this case Modge podge because its already watery) and painted it over any places that would receive a lot of friction as the solution admitted made the satin a tiny bit duller so didn't want to paint the whole thing with it.

Sometimes you can use the methods/shapes from existing clothing to help you make what you want. When I made my NiGHTS cosplay I found a little decorative halloween jester hat which I used as a reference to make a pattern for NiGHTS' hat/horns.

Speaking of, and also in relation to that hardware thing. Thrift shops are a great way to find random pieces of stuff you think can help with your project especially if they're going to be items you cut up/modify anyways. I wanted the illusion of floating when making my NiGHTS and musing about a Tatsumaki cosplay so wanted to use tacky clear platform heels to make it happen lol. And thrift shops have a ton of used shoes. I only needed the platform part and remove the straps so didn't need anything brand new. While I didn't find clear ones at the time I did find other platforms that helped with my NiGHTS, the feet were so big on the costume it shadowed the heels anyways and kept the illusion. (bonus concept of that Tatsumaki idea)

When I needed a squeaker for a cosplay piece I just bought a 99 cent dog toy and disemboweled it for one. In the same kind of "cheat" I just got a wielding mask, removed the mask part, and attached my Gangle mask to it to make a way method to take it on and off.

Anyways that was a lot of examples, but they're times when my dumb dumb brain was like "wait!!! I don't have to do this the hard way and get what I'm looking for!!" and it saved me from said hard way of getting what I wanted.

[puppetmaster13u]

What's Outside WIP

Oh hey a work in progress for the next story in the series, what'dya know lol. Have more good dad Bruce, this time with lil Damian :>

🦇🐦🦇🐦🦇🐦🦇🐦🦇🐦🦇🐦🦇🐦🦇🐦🦇🐦🦇🐦🦇🐦

   “Am I to… die?” 

   Bruce stilled from where he was stress-sewing, looking up from the blanket he had been working on at Damian’s words. The small (too small, far too small) child was staring down at the floor, hands clenched in the pajama pants. 

   He didn’t stop the distressed whine from escaping his throat, setting his project to the side and crouching in front of Damian. “No baby bird, oh no no no,” he gently picked up tiny hands, scarred and worn from holding weapons, running his thumbs over the backs of them. “Never, ever think that.” 

   Bright green eyes were wide, body tense as he hugged his son- fuck he still couldn’t help the jolt of utter panic at the thought. He loved Damian, he loved all of his children, blood or not, but he wished- he wished he’d had a say on the creation of him. 

   It was a minor miracle that the league hadn’t been aware of the fact that they had the blood of Bruce Wayne, and not some sort of unholy creature from down below. But the fact that a child suffered because of that made him feel ill. 

   “You’re one of us, kiddo,” he pet messy dark hair, so very similar to his own. “Never think otherwise- it doesn’t matter if you mess up or don’t succeed, you’re still a part of our family no matter what.” 

   “You’ll always be my son, Damian, just like Jason and Dick, and TIm, and Duke, no matter what, alright?” he ignored the small blade poking at his side, continuing to simply hug his kid. When was the last time Damian had gotten a hug, he couldn’t help but wonder. Or even simply held without the intent of a test, of injury? 

   “But-” Damian seemed lost, a panicked uncertainty crossing a too-thin face. “I am a failure, a failed experiment- I was supposed to be heir but failed-” 

   “Shh, shh, habibi,” oh how Bruce wanted to make an accident happen to the Al Ghuls, to make sure all of Ra’s league disappeared forever, a soft crooning noise echoing from his throat. “You’re not a failure, you’re my child, that’s what matters.” 

[hexagonalhavoc]

Forrest Family 

Platonic Leshy + Subordinates 

Reader is always gn unless stated otherwise 

[Author’s Note: I totally forgot I had this blog 😭 basically in this au Leshy and all of his subordinates exist in the real world. Y/n gets two loving families in this and I am considering making several parts of this au because you don’t meet everyone in this oneshot]

[⚠️Small mentions of death but no one actually dies, reader almost drowns but is okay in the end]

     No one could ignore the sound of a crying baby, not even the strange entities that resided within the woods. 

The Trader was the one who found you wedged between a car seat and pieces of dented metal. The car must have fell from the mountain roads. Miraculously, there was not a single scratch on your tiny body. There were two figures in the front row seats but The Trader could hardly see them through the rubble. 

The only thing she can see is the fussy baby strapped in a car seat. The car seat had a name sewed onto the top of the fabric. “Y/n…” She mumbles tentatively.

Assuming that your parents didn’t survive the crash, she scooped you up into her arms and took you to the heart of the forest where the Scrybe of Beasts lived along with his subordinates. The entities in this forest had questionable morals but even they knew that a baby couldn’t be left to die. They couldn’t leave the forest and there were no campsites to drop you off safely so the only option they had was to raise you. 

Not everyone was open to the idea but you ended up winning their hearts quickly. 

What they didn’t know was that your parents were alive, simply knocked out from the harsh collision. They were lucky enough to have cellphone service and were able to call for help. They were fine with injuries that could easily be treated. The worse wounds your parents suffered was when they found out their child wasn’t in the backseat. Your car seat was found unbuckled but you were too young to know how to free yourself and even if you did you wouldn’t be able to go very far with your limited mobility. 

A mystery like this was all over the news as the grieving parents dealt with interviews and interrogations that only rubbed salt in the wound. Despite this tragedy, your parents were able to work through it and stay together. 

Seven years later you were found by an explorer in the woods who found you feeding seeds to the small creatures of the woodlands. Seeing this child alone and away from civilization, they left the woods with you and called the police. That day you were safely returned to your biological family but your forest family had lost you. They knew that this was a good thing and that is why they let you go despite being close enough to see what was happening.

As much as they loved you, you needed to be with people, with your original family. That night the woods was quiet. It was void of any joyful giggles and the little pitter patter of you running around playing games.

When you were found no one expected you to be in such good condition. The clothes on your back kept you warm and your nails were neatly clipped. You even knew how to read, write, speak, and do some simple math. Everyone was grateful that you were safe and sound but everyone was curious as to how a child could be in such good condition despite being in the woods for seven years. 

You couldn’t have gotten this way by yourself meaning that someone took care of you. When you were asked about who you were with in this woods you told people everything. 

You told them about your three uncles: The goofy one who had a cute dog and was always looking for gold, the one who always fished and taught you not to be scared of the water, and the one who frequently set up traps in the forest that would hum melodies that lulled you to sleep. Then you told them about your aunt who had a peculiar hairstyle who loved card games. You even told them about your two older siblings, Luke and Kaycee who resembled two people who went missing in the same forest you spent your years in. 

The last person they heard about was your Forest Father who you described to be a man with animal legs covered in twigs and leaves. He watched over everyone and loved to play games in his cabin.

Despite being unnerved, most people brushed it off as you having an active imagination. These people had to exist but surely they didn’t have the inhuman features you spoke of. The people who raised you were a mystery to everyone but with you found safe the case was closed and you were now going to live a normal life with the family you should have always been with. 

You ended up living in a good home and reconnecting with your parents as well as making friends. Then you grew up into a healthy adult with a job and a small place. 

Yet you still remembered your forest family, that’s why you were here. 

You knew if you told anyone, especially your family they would freak out so this was something you did without telling anyone. You aren’t sure why but lately the mystery behind your forest family happened to be eating away at you. You wondered if they truly looked so strange or if you just didn’t remember things correctly because you were a child. 

You needed answers for yourself and thus you’re in the forest where you spent a chunk of your childhood. Despite it being so long ago, you still knew how to walk these trails. The smell of the dirt and ferns was comforting to you. Even if you didn’t find the people you were looking for it was still nice to be here. The family you remember might not even be in the woods anymore.

Then you spotted something that made you freeze. You took a step back and then crouched down to look at it. It almost looked like a statue of a frog made with metal and screws. You tapped its head and its shape suddenly changed into a bear trap which you made stumble back in alarm. Dirt coated the trap and there wasn’t a single speck of rust which means that this trap has to be new! And if it is that means that your forest family was still here! You remember how your uncle Trapper would make these strange looking frog traps to lure in animals.

With a newfound sense of determination you continued onward. You wondered how your forrest family would react when they saw you again. You hope that they’re as nice as you remember them being. You hope they want to see you. 

It wasn’t very long until you faced another obstacle in your path, a body of water that stretched out across the land. It would take too long to find where the water stops. If you wanted to continue on your best bet would be to cross the water. You looked down into the water but you couldn’t gage how deep it was, the water was too murky. You would just have to take a chance, you were a strong swimmer though so you should be okay if the water is deep. 

You walk to the edge, looking at your own reflection as you tried to hype yourself up. You had gone so far that there was no point in turning back. It was just a little bit of water. 

One foot cautiously dips into the water. It doesn’t seem that deep! With more confidence, your other foot submerges itself in the water and sinks slightly under the mud. You begin to wade in the water, taking things one step at a time. At least the current isn’t very strong. 

You’re halfway across but with your next step, the ground seemingly disappears under you. In an instant, your head is swept beneath the water. You don’t have enough time to take a breath and your limbs flail around as you try to swim but your backpack weights you down. In your panic the only thing you do is thrash around like an animal as the dirty water gets in your nose and eyes. You don’t even consider that your backpack is the one keeping you trapped within the water.

Just when you think it’s hopeless, you feel something tugging you up by your shirt and in a flash you’re back above the water. You let out a few coughs as you rubbed the dirt out of your eyes. When your vision cleared you looked up at the one who had saved you. It was a large man with a fishing rod in his with a comically large fishing hook on it. You look at the man’s green tinted skin and the fins on his head with disbelief. He looked exactly how you remembered. 

“Uncle Angler!” You were the first to break the little staring match you two were having. Despite being cold and tired you stood up and hugged him. “Y/n Fish.” His voice lacked any inflection but you still knew how to read him even after all these years and you knew he was happy to see you too given the way his arms engulfed you. It was a strange hug but he made you feel safe and secure. 

After a few moments both of you take a step back but you’re still looking up at him with a smile. “I’m so glad to see you! Do you know where the others are?” 

“We’re close. I can lead.” He says as he picks up a few buckets of fish to take with him. You go to grab one in order to help you out but he gives you a look. The Angler doesn’t want you carrying such a heavy bucket after going through so much. His pace is slow which makes him easier to keep up with. He’s as big as you remember but also just as gentle. You don’t mind walking back with him in silence. The Angler had always been a man of few words and as a kid you two would sit together and fish in silence which taught you remarkable of patience. 

The walk isn’t too long but you’re still exhausted. It was a long drive to get here, and then a long walk, and then almost becoming a meal for The Angler’s great whites. But it’s all worth it, especially when you see the figure in the clearing. Some would find him scary. He’s a tall figure whose body is adorned with plant life. A deer-like leg kicks at the dirt behind him. He holds an old fashioned camera in his hands. 

As you and The Angler approach he looks over at the direction where he hears the snapping of twigs and dry leaves. Both of you stare each other. His eyes becoming luminous orange spirals as he comprehends what he’s seeing. And in a moment, both of you run at each other. Your backpack is discarded to the ground without another thought and whatever Leshy was going to take a picture of is long forgotten. 

His limbs are lanky but incredibly strong. You feel like a child again being held like this. You rest your head against his shoulder and inhale the familiar scent of greenery that never withered or decayed. 

“You came back.” He whispers those words faintly but you still hear them. You knew that this might be emotional and yet you’re overwhelmed by your feelings in the best way possible. 

“Of course I did.” Your breathing is shaking but you still let out a small laugh. “You’re all my family too and I’ll always want you guys to be apart of my life.” You wipe your nose on your sleeve and sniffle. 

This feels like the greatest thing that could ever happen, to have two families who love and care for you even if it’s in different ways. 

It’s saddening that you can’t allow your biological family to meet your forrest family but you’re happy to have them both. You’re happy to live a boring, technology filled civilian life as well an exciting one in the woods filled with magic and mystery. 

You have the best of both worlds.

[pants-magic-pants]

✧⊹JARETH BALLROOM COAT⊹✧

[This post is part of a series about constructing Jareth's entire masquerade ball costume. Visit the master post here.]

Fabric Selection [Part 2 of 2] The Drama of the Lining

Hello all you fine goblins, goblinettes, masqueraders, bog creatures(?)... I'm back to ramble a lot, and unless you are really into sewing or want to make this coat, this post will probably bore the hell out of you but by all means here it is.

Firstly I want to say that I'm part of a Labyrinth cosplay group now, have a beautiful Sarah waiting for me in just a state above, a masquerade dancer who is already my good friend, and we'd love to do a dreamy photoshoot for everyone at a ballroom or wedding venue somewhere between us. However, I'm financially strained. I'm working extra shifts, offering commissions, etc, but it's only doing so much. If you've made it this far and have been appreciating any of my content, please consider tipping the blog. All the posts have a button that looks like this ($). Please help us unite. Please please, throw a dollar into my guitar case, won't you?

ANYHOO! I'm not good at lining, as I think I've mentioned. There's a lot more I need to learn to get it looking good and structured, and in this case there was so much gravity working against it too. I also am sure you notice that there are ghastly black stitches across the middle of the pleats on the inside... had thought that wouldn't be showing... whoops.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆ ・・・・

We’ll start with the creamy, slightly sparkly, crimped(?) fabric that lines the tail first. It doesn’t appear to be lurex/foiled silk or satin, as it seems to be even lighter weight than those fabrics. That’s the first thing that I would say is important about picking this lining: it needs to be something SUPER LIGHTWEIGHT.

The reason being that, at least for the way I did the pleats, there was as much of it needed as the velvet, as it all got folded together. Even if you didn't do it this way, you would only want to add the least amount of extra weight as possible, using something that is still durable and isn't going to blow every which way.

That made the search pretty limiting, as did the fact that it needed to be opaque, flowy, and non-stretchy. Originally when I began searching, I was looking for things like organza or chiffon with crimps/ridges, which looked very pretty, but they were too sheer unless layered, and layering would have made them too stiff. 

After doing further research post-completion of the coat, viscose seems like it would have looked and behaved correctly, since it's soft, light, non-stretchy and not sheer, but apparently it isn't the most environmentally friendly fabric, so it’s something to consider. There's also cupro, though I've never gotten my hands on either of these so it's hard to say that definitively. It’s supposed to have a similar appearance and drape as silk, but it's not quite as shiny. It's opaque, and unless it's mixed with elastane or rayon it's not supposed to be very stretchy either, which leads me to…

What not to use: a stretchy fabric, like for any lining on any project. I already made that clear, but did I follow my own advice? Not this time. I got fed up with fabric drama and settled for a very pretty but stretchy foiled fabric, hell if I know what it was because it was late one evening at Jo-Ann Fabric, and I was Over That Shit™ and suffered a lapse in judgment. The result was slight warping from over-handling, and the entire seam between it and the inner facing was bubbly. I’m still kicking myself. Shoulda’ gone home. Shoulda’ said “no, Jo-Ann.”

Here's what I used. Yeah, it's pretty right? But that's all it is.

Another thing to note is that there are subtle ridges in the bottom lining. Not pleats, but like, crimping? It’s a very similar texture to Sarah’s dress. Searching for terms related to ridges would help find something similar, and as for colors, I searched for mainly creams, or borderline beige. Sometimes “champagne” also yielded good results. It’s definitely not white or even ivory, as white will turn the color scheme of the coat way too cold, stark, and sterile. Ivory (while warm-toned) may have the same effect. 

It helped me to look at a color wheel and decide the most complimentary combination based on the exact shade of blue that my velvet was. The ballroom coat’s actual shade of blue may seem to vary based on the photograph, but after seeing a lot of reference photos, I started to be able to tell which ones had been, em, tweaked, enhanced, etc. and that tended to be the ones that presented it as electric blue or leaning towards turquoise. The true shade seems to be like one shade cooler than true-blue. Am I making sense?

Given that, the lining’s shade of cream would need to be basically a pure cream color, not leaning towards rosy/orange NOR towards green on the color wheel, in order to be complimentary. However, for anyone who’s making the coat who wants to use a warmer shade of blue for the velvet, this is perfectly fine, it just will change just about every other color choice that you make, down to the color of the jewels and buttons. You may find that all your other blues need to be warmer shades, and that a rosier cream lining (champagne) looks best. 

Before moving on to the top lining, I want to mention that there is - strangely – a piece of cream colored tulle in the back? Not sure how that looks if you were to open the coat and look in, and since I couldn’t think of a way to make that look good, I didn’t include it. 

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆ ・・・・

The top lining! We can’t see what’s in there, so this comes down to intuition and preference. I wanted a fully lined coat that looked good and had an aesthetically pleasing transition from one fabric to another, so I pretty much lined the top as if it was its own mini jacket, and I chose satin in a slightly lighter shade of cool blue. A little too light to be called navy but I’m sure people still would call it that.

I wouldn’t recommend using the same fabric used on the tail for the top because the fabric for the tail seems too textured to be smooth enough to get in and out of without issues. Best to stick with classic lining: silk or satin, in blue or a neutral that would match something else on the coat. Black, cream, maybe even dark/metallic grey or silver? The extra challenge of using a shade of blue is that you’d have to be very discerning about whether or not it matched. I had to take the velvet with me everywhere when making my decisions.

Almost nothing featured here is what I used, but here's me being diligant and bringing my swatches everywhere.

Not only did the color have to match, but the texture and amount of shimmer also mattered. Super matte silks/satins seemed to anchor down the splendor of the sparkling velvet too much. The really shiny fabrics looked best. I settled for something a little more subdued, but okay. It was okayyyy. Again, I was Over It™. 

Well, was that super interesting, or what?

[peachyanime]

appears looking at you with autism creature eyes. hello @sangerie your vs bros fankids (one of which i had a hand in making bc. glances at the reblogs/notes in @loopyarts post. i have confessed there fskakfafsga) are really really neat .u.

SPEAKING of loopyarts ty for allowing me to take inspo for nijis kids raid suit fit!! i really liked the softer yellow and the thicker lightning bolts on his pants you gave him so tysm for letting me yoink it <3

uh uhh individual pieces and also design/character rants under the cut bc. i wanna.

RAID SUIT RAMBLING TIME bc i spent the most time on those. also you might be asking 'why is only their hair rendered in those pieces?' well the answer is because i am Lazy. moving on . (/HJHJ i AM lazy but also rendering it further would mess up the colors and i didn't wanna do that lmao. carrying on..)

Ichiji's daughter i am so SO proud of her fit. i did not look up a reference or even inspo ideas at all, that all came from the ole noggin baybeee. anyways she is obviously based off a magical girl(s) fit bc she wants and DESERVES to be. also since Reiju doesn't have any kids of her own (based wine aunt) i also decided to let Little Red have some of her motifs instead of just purely Ichiji's!! primarily the 66 on her pants but also all the pink on her instead of just red :) and obviously she has her dads number and while she DOES have a (white? bc like daddy shes a special little princess /aff) cape i didn't include it here bc it looked reallly bad lmao. but she does have one tucked into the bow probably!! there she is, Sparkling Red Neo!!! (get it.. sparkling instead of sparking... bc magical girl.... im funny i think.) onto Little Ocean Boy

OKAY LET ME TALK ABOUT THE MOST MINISCULE YET MOST IMPORTANT DETAIL TO ME AND ME ALONE FIRST. that being the symbol on the brats belt. it was actually inspired/based off of this post which really stuck with me with me after reading it which i later realized was bc the "that something has been completely reversed" REMINDED ME OF THIS POST OF YOURS. i don't think im especially good at theory crafting but. idk i think there could be Something about how after judge came and turned germa into mercenaries their symbol turned from what once symbolized 'purity' into the skull of war mongers and then BACK to purity after 0124 get germa on the right path... poetry or smthn. ANYWAYS yah shoe shiners got a pretty basic fit bc like i said in the og ask, hes a sora warrior of the sea fan, once he saw the raidsuits irl methinks he'd want to stay pretty close to the og design. HOWEVER he refuses to drop the hat (much to Niji's dismay) and i came up with a reason besides 'its one piece and therefore there's GOTTA be a kid with a weird hat that they're attached to': and that is the fact that it hides his eyebrows. Little Red has the curly brows, all of Yonji's cabbage patch does too, and the brats the only one without. even if literally no one else notices or cares, he wants to hide the fact that he doesn't have em because it Separates him. and he doesn't want that. at all. he really, Really wants to be a part of this family (oh no i made it. angsty). ANYWAYS UHH YAYYY HE HAS A TWO ON HIS HAT (that he sewed on himself which is why i made sure you can see the stitch-lines) BC NIJIS HIS DAD WAHOO YIPPEE :D:D:D Dengeki Blue Neo: little shoe shiner edition!!

UHH second image is just a refined piece of that first doodle i sent you. with lineart and a better color pallet and all. actually looking at it again now i realize i forgot little brats freckles and i am now punching the air bc its too late to fix. just act like they're there. please :,,,) edit: nvm its the next morning i fixed that kjahsdah

i don't even have much to say about the last two because i Think i am Rightgksfjgasjkfa but for the third i think the brats a bad influence on Little Red especially. ALSO FOR THE FOURTH NO I DIDNT FORGET ICHIJIS TATTOO. I AM JUST LAZY. (and I also forgot his tattoo :]) ANOTHER edit: i also. fixed this :]

CHRIST i am incapable of contacting you on Tumblr via any way that includes anything less than 250 words i am so sorry sangerie.. i hope you like these tho cause i really do tbh :3 (PS you have to take literally NONE of what I said here [mostly about shoe shiner] as like.. canon about them?? these are YOUR ocs obvi so please, change Little Red's raidsuit design if you find it unappealing!! make shoe shiner have a backstory of your own!!! i hope that isnt weird or rude to say, i just thought it was important too bc i threw sm at you so strongly ^^' okay thats all tysm for reading this it means to world to me byebye <3)

[himehikoshrine]

Mary Jane and Frankenstein 

In honor of Spooky Month and the imminent arrival of Mary Jane Day, I have done the scariest thing imaginable, returned to tumblr dot com to write a meta/analysis post.

[image description: images side by side of the top of the Mary Jane poster, showing Mary looking down sewing Jacob, next to the 1831 edition front panel illustration of Frankenstein, showing Victor looking down on his creature in horror]

This is a mostly informal attempt to collect my thoughts on the fact that Neji’s little spooktacular, in addition to being a very pointed exploration, as all of his plays are, of art and theater, the school, himself and his classmates (without their permission, the menace) and just, a lot of fun, is perhaps one of the best piece of Frankenstein related media I have EVER seen in relation to the original novel. 

This is pulling a lot of things from the Stage Script rather than the in game version, which summarizes a lot of the things I'm mentioning specifically. You can find the full Stage Script in the game menu, or

[ here ]

because I love this play so much that I needed a searchable version.

Caveat Emptor here is that it’s been a long time since I’ve read the novel in its entirety. If this game gets me to read it again, I may have to revamp things. But again, largely informal. But very long, somehow.

Oooops.

If you're curious about anything in here and want to expand on it more, or hear my thoughts on it, please feel free to reblog, send an ask, or message. Or ask me elsewhere if we're already connected there. There's a lot I glossed over, especially at the end of this. I have a lot to say, and if we're back to writing metas on tumblr dot com the chances of stopping at one are slim.

Mary as Frankenstein, Mary as Mother

Mary’s name is acting as several allusions at once. I mean, there are at least 3 Mary’s in the bible one could point to - Mary, Mother of Jesus is absolutely at play. But Lazarus’s sister is also a Mary. And while technically Mary Magdalene is often misrepresented and amalgamated with other characters in retellings, the idea of “purifying” her has canon precedent - having had seven demons driven out of her.

Of course, Neji’s twisting all of it, in his Neji way.

(Interestingly enough, these are the Three Marys of the Quem Quaeritis - widely considered a point of "rebirth" of theatre in Europe during the middle ages.)

But Mary is also the name of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, author of Frankenstein. And this, this is a Frankenstein story. It is, in fact, a beautiful inversion of so much about the book that gets left out in most far more serious attempts at a Frankenstein story. 

The original book is about motherhood and its inversion. Much could be said about when during her life she wrote it, or her own mother’s death shortly after she was born, or any number of things that have been hashed and rehashed a thousand times from AP English to the ivoriest of towers. But, fan of Death of the Author that I am, I posit you don’t need any of that to see in the text.

Victor creates a person with science, rather than by ‘nature’. It is an unnatural birth. And Victor is just about the shittiest possible parent. The Creature spends a good deal of time explaining to him, when they meet up again, that Victor is his father, and that he was literally abandoned as a newborn, and maybe that was kind of the worst possible thing he could have done. It’s not a mantle Victor has any desire to take up, the role of a parent. He wanted to create life, but he didn’t want to be a parent. But that’s what it means to create life. 

By gender swapping the role, you’re already inverting the inversion - but Mary’s creation is no more “natural” than Victors. But it is different. Neji, ever witch-coded himself, has Mary put one of her own hairs into every doll. It’s returning the shared body to the act of bringing these creations into being.

But even without that. Mary considers herself a mother. She considers herself a mother despite having no memory of one herself - Mary knows lots of things she shouldn’t, and doesn’t know many things she should. But she calls herself a mother. Even before any of the dolls move, she is their mother. A motherhood she wants to desperately share with others. She considers the act of selling a doll a kind of ‘adoption’. These are her children. And they know it. It’s stitched into every stitch in their doll bodies. They know Mary is their mother. And they know she loves them.

[image description: screenshot of Mary in her workshop. The text shows Mary's line saying "I'm back, dear dolls. Mommy's home."]

The Creature comes to think of Victor as a father - an absentee one at that, and craves that love, a love he is never shown. Mary averts this spectacularly. She creates out of love. 

Names

Mary takes great care in naming Jacob, and ends up doing so, though she doesn’t say it, after a biblical pun (Jacob, in the bible, is explicitly named such as a pun on the word “Heel”). But names are important to Mary, and she is sure to give one to Jacob as soon as he’s fully formed, even before she sees him wake up. Victor very particularly does not name his creature. Instead, he tends to throw around insults, many of which are demonic or satanic. When they finally meet again, the Creature says to him “I should have been thy Adam.” Mary averts this mistake, among so many others, spectacularly. Being called by her name is important to her, and she extends that offer to Jacob even before he’s fully “born.” Like a good mother.

[image description: a screenshot showing Fumi and Kai dressed as Mary and Jacob, as seen from the stage with the audience in the background. Kai is saying Jacob's line "I did, Mary. You are Mary Jane. My mother."]

Not only does she give him a nice biblical pun of a first name, she shares her last name with him, again before he’s even more than a doll. That’s her boy, that’s her best friend. That’s her family.

The song here, which is only sung and dance AFTER Mary has given him a name is called "A Friend Without A Name" Almost as if specifically calling attention to this fact. Mary is as much the friend without a name as Jacob, if not more. She is the one that has never heard another voice say her name, where as Jacob is called his before he's even awakened by the Island's magic and Mary's love.

[image description: the screen from just before A Friend Without A Name showing Mary and Jacob's CG of Mary Stitching Jacob.]

Mary as a Good Mother

Some of the weirder moments in the play actually make a lot more sense when you look at them through this light. Jacob randomly saying he hates Mary in a fit of jealousy? It’s because he’s a child. He’s a baby. That’s a baby boy. Mary, herself quite childish, forgetting so much of what’s important, as the Island is known for, reacts incorrectly, but understandably. This is her first friend - and far more of one than the others she thinks she’s made, in terms of mutual respect, compassion, and small acts of kindness. But this level of connection and emotional reciprocation is still new to her. She’s hurt. She runs.

And The Order of Shadow’s duo is quick to tell her that that’s just the nature of ghosts, telling themselves a little joke about how they have been lying to her from the start, and fully intend to stab her in the back, far more than any ghost. Victor’s instinct is to consider his creature a monster, a fiend, a demon. Mary is told by characters positioned as far more knowledgeable about the world than her that he must be exactly that.

And how does Mary react? She refuses to believe it. Even hurt as she was, even with someone who just said this is their entire expertise telling her it’s in his nature to be cruel, Mary refuses to accept it. She still loves him. She makes the right choice. That’s her best friend. That’s her family. That’s a (un)life she brought into this world, and she stands by him. No matter what. She would risk her life to rescue him. She will fight for him.

This is why that scene has to be there. Because she has to be given that temptation, that trial. And she passes spectacularly in a way Victor will not, to the end.

It’s also a thematic explanation for the garbage scene, which is probably there as much to be silly as anything. I mean, it’s also there to show many other things — Mary’s eccentricity is ingenious in its own quirky way — the islanders who hated her, who she didn’t understand, give her the tools to save Jacob and the others — Mary not even considering the same level of violence — it being a moment of empathy between Mary and the islanders who never showed her even a shred of it back — she understands that they couldn’t tell which food was rotten. She sees things from their point of view. And many more besides.

But, from the point of view of Mary as a Mother, Mary succeeding brilliantly where Victor failed… Mary is literally willing to coat herself in filth to rescue Jacob. Parenthood is messy. It involves a lot of gross things. Even Victor's, sanitized of the normal processes and cloaked in science, was made of corpse parts. But the play actually brings back a part of parenthood that Mary had been able to avoid thus far - the mess. Mary, once again, doesn’t hesitate. For Jacob? She’ll do anything.

Jacob is shown love and kindness, and he responds with the same. He has the same unnatural strength as Victor’s creature, but he’s only ever shown using it to rescue himself and others. When Mary asks for a handshake, he replies that he can’t, because such would be an invitation for a duel. And that they should hug, instead. Mary didn’t even know what that was. Far from disgusted by the lack of warmth she feels from his skin, she looks beyond that, to the emotional warmth and connection.

Frankenstein’s creature, famously, lashes out in violence. While Victor views this as his responsibility only in so far as he brought a demon into the world, he doesn’t understand, even when the Creature eloquently explains it, that the Creature was a being who had only known cruelty.

Jacob knows love. He knows kindness. He knows sadness and loneliness and pain. And refuses to engage in any form of touch that could even be considered violence. They hug.

Which is not to say Mary’s creatures can’t kill. But they do only to protect their mother, and only after Mary has risked everything to protect Jacob. They are Mary’s children, not Victor’s. Even their violence is an act of love. And in another inversion - they are the ones telling Mary to run. Something she does not want to do. She doesn't want to leave them behind. After all, they are her children. She departs from them only at Jacob's literal tug away, and with an apology and a thanks.

[Image description: screenshot of Fumi, dressed as Mary Jane, shown from stage view, with the audience behind, while a Doll's lines "Protect Mommy, let mommy run away." are shown below.]

Boats and Framing

But the parallels are not only in the most famous part of the novel - consider this - Frankenstein, the novel, is written as a series of nesting framing narratives. The bookend narrative, the one we open and close on, is a boat. Most Frankenstein adaptations cut the boat trip frame, but Mary Jane very specifically opens and closes on a boat at sea, and its ending is EXACTLY the reverse of Frankenstein’s. If for some reason you’re this far in and don’t want more spoilers for a 200 year old book, now’s the time to click away, I guess.

The boat is on a course to the Arctic. Victor is on board, telling his story, because his creature has fled there, away from humanity. Victor intends to pursue him endlessly, to kill him, fully aware that he is almost certainly going to die, frozen and alone, in the process. We don’t get to see this happen - the story ends merely with the certainty that this is what is coming. Victor, on a boat, intending to go to the ends of the earth alone to kill the Creature he brought into the world, treating it like some burden and punishment. 

[image description: a screenshot from Mary Jane, with the CG of Mary and the Ghosts on the ship, with the summary text overlayed on it reading "Friends together, fun forever."]

How does Mary Jane end? With Mary, and Jacob, and a cast of playful characters — her friends — sailing off for the ends of the world, together, in pursuit of life and happiness - even in death.

Ghost Party ends the play because its a triumph. Neji throwing out Horace’s Ode to Cleopatra in there because he can’t not do silly things like that — but Frankenstein famously contains many references to classics — many made by the Creature himself, who was forced to educate himself via books, lacking a parent to help him. 

Mary Jane takes a section of sheer joy out of a poem of complex mixed emotions, and says them repeatedly. This is a party. This is a triumph. Mary leaves on a boat for the ends of the world a success, a good mother, a friend. And a human.

Humanity, Connection, Isolation

The play deconstructs so wonderfully this question of humanity. Mary doesn’t find any joy in it, despite barely understanding it herself - until she is able to use it to help others. The first time in her life she’s been glad to be human - something she only really understands as “needing to eat food” - is when it gives her the ability to save her ghost friends. If that’s what humanity is, the ability to care for others, the ghosts of the chapel, the play is telling us, are far more human. 

One of my favorite exchanges in the play is after Charles and Figaro explain to Mary that the corpse parts used to make Jacob were their friends. Mary is not malicious in the least. She has no concept of this act as sacrilege or desecration. She is genuinely childishly innocent in most of what she does. And she can’t understand it.

Mary says “If you can love unmoving corpses so much… How can you not feel for living ghosts...?"

[image description: Mary in front of the burning town. She's saying "How can you not feel for living ghosts...?"]

Charles responds that she must be completely off her rocker. But she’s correct. Mary sees life in front of her, even undead life, and wants to protect it. Even the Islanders, who only ever treated her with distain, who only ever made her miserable — she doesn’t want them to die, even knowing they are already dead. 

Outside of Mary, her oddball eccentric self, in this play, the more human someone is, the crueler they are. Figaro and Charles are only ever here to mess with her before dragging her off to be killed. They have no willingness to even try to understand anything outside their world view. The Islanders, who think themselves human, revile Mary, and make up terrible rumors about her. 

Both of these groups do so, in part, for similar reasons. Because to have empathy would force a realization on them they cannot bear. The last thing Figaro realizes, before he’s dragged into the most poetic of justices, is that the dolls have SOULS. They are ALIVE. It’s a moment of anger and madness, but it’s a last minute realization that he’s been wrong now that it’s too late. Of course it’s not a revelation he’ll remember. You tend to forget what’s important on Kakuriyo Island.

If Mary averts all of Victor’s mistakes, Charles and Figaro make many of them. Seeing the Creature as a collection of corpses, as demonic, as an abomination against God. Reacting only in anger, in cruelty, in violence. Chasing something they view, wrongly, as an abomination to the ends of the earth, until it kills them. Mary has Victor’s role, but Victor’s actions and outlook are given to the antagonists. 

It’s fascinating to me, then, that there are two of them. In the version of the play that gets performed, they’re twins - doubles. Two halves of one whole, who egg each other along in their cruelty. But they also exist to show that even these two are capable of empathy and connection. They do in fact understand the thing they tease Mary with. They have the ability and understanding to extend that to Ghosts, or to Mary. They simply refuse to. Figaro really does love his brother - his grief at his death is genuine. It’s a clever way to show that.

In the book, Victor is extremely isolated, by his own choice. He withdraws from everyone in order to work on his creature, and after he runs from it, he keeps to himself just as much, now blaming the idea that he can tell no one what he’s done. Even when he’s surrounded by family, he is utterly alone. By choice. The Creature eventually lashes out and kills the woman Victor intended to marry. In Victor’s mind, he cares about this girl, but it is not in his actions. Like much else, she exists more as a creation of Victors mind than something in the world for him to interact with and care about. Until she dies. Then he’s furious. And decides to spend the rest of his life chasing down the Creature to kill him for it. 

This contradiction in Victor has always read as intentional to me. The book is calling out his hypocrisy here. He doesn’t actually desire connection - the connection his Creature eloquently explains his longing for. But if it is denied him, he acts like he’s been affronted, painted with a shallow layer of sanctimoniousness or justice. Murder is bad, of course, and the Creature shouldn’t have killed an innocent young woman to get at Victor, of course. But the discrepancy between the way Victor reacts to her in death and the way he does when she’s alive is intentional.

Victor has every chance for human connection. Time and time and time again he’s given that chance and refuses it. Even to the very end, on that boat. He could stay with the crew. Sail back home. Let it go. The Creature has run away from humanity which it has come to despise as much as its absentee father disdained it. There is no need to keep chasing. But Victor cannot let it go. 

The Creature longs for connection and is denied it. Victor disdains and refuses it, even when it’s available to him.

Mary as The Creature

Contrast this with Mary — It is Mary, rather than Jacob, that is in the Creature’s situation here. Mary is constantly chasing connection. Constantly trying to find something to reflect humanity (compassion, life, emotions — rather than the matter of blood and flesh that Figaro and Charles always talk about it as) back at her. And she can’t get it. She, like the Creature, hides in the bushes and watches it from afar. She, like the Creature, chases after it only for people to run away, to treat her with cruelty. Mary is Frankenstein, but she is also a reflection of the Creature. She is both in one, in this sense.

[image description: screenshot of summary text over the church and figures of the church ghosts. it reads "The friendless Mary dreamily watched the ghosts as they sang a happy song.]

Her costume specifically makes her look nearly as much the doll as the ones she makes - in the world of the story, because she's sewing both - but thematically, it ties her to them not only as their mother, but as a reflection of the Creature, herself.

Like the Creature, Mary is an odd mix of naivety and childishness, with startling gaps in her knowledge, and extreme skill and adult abilities. She knows what she knows well. Like the Creature, Mary has no memory of kindness, of family, of parents. She has only ever seen it in the way the Islanders interact with each other. She is the Creature here - raising herself, learning of the world through watching it, being reviled for every attempt she makes to reach out.

One thing the Creature explains to Victor is that he didn’t even understand, at the time, why he was being treated this way. He had no awareness of his own nature and what he looked like in the eyes of others. Only that they ran in fear and chased him away, and reacted with violence.

Mary Jane inverts this. Mary is human, but the humans around her are something she cannot understand. Like the Creature, Mary doesn’t understand why people react this way. The book expects you to come to the same conclusion as the play - the fault lies not with the Creature anymore more than it does with Mary, at this point. It is those around him, those around her, that are at fault, that are a thing neither can understand. Human’s are cruel. Ghosts who think they’re humans are cruel. It is a disconnect between themselves and the world around them they don’t understand, and desperately try to bridge over and over.

Even Mary, as quirky and childlike as she is, is on the verge of giving up, of being consumed by the Lonely Darkness. We don't know what her fate would have been if the Order of Shadows had not come. Victor's Creature, far more morose than Mary, gives up on connection, as well. He is denied the most basic of needs, and eventually, he learns the violence and hatred being directed at him, and, newborn that he is, lashes out.

But, ultimately, companionship and connection are the Creature’s goals, and it is that that he requests of Victor, who refuses to provide it himself. Make for me a mate. Mary is the Creature, and she is Frankenstein. She makes a friend for herself. Her motivation in creating Jacob is not science, it is not in defiance of  death or God — very pointedly — it is out of loneliness - the same motivation that the Creature gives for his desire that Victor make him another like him. And when Mary does so, she’s a good mother, and a good friend.

Religion

Frankenstein’s full title is Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus - it is about forming people, but it is also about stealing fire from the Gods. The question of if creating life out of death the way Victor does is an affront to God is something that Victor himself thinks about, but the book is much more interested in exploring it as the way characters view it. Victor punishes himself, it is not the Divine that punishes him. The Divine acts not as a force, but as an idea. One that both Victor and the Creature end up grappling with and trying to find their place within.

So that Mary herself seemingly has no concept of it, is fascinating. She goes to watch a chapel every night, but I don’t know she knows what a chapel even is. She mentions God once herself, saying that the smell of the garbage would be enough to affect even God, but she also talks to the Moon as a companion and a friend. Her worldview is uniquely hers, in relation to all things. As I said, the idea that making the dolls the way she does, or using corpse parts to do it might be sacrilege does not even occur to her.

Rather than go the route of the novel, Mary Jane twists this around too. In the world of Mary Jane, religious objects hold not only the power of an idea but an actual force. And it is a force that is completely, within the world of the show, amoral and nonsensical. The blessed weapons and fire the Order of the Shadows use are “holy” as a property, but that gives it no moral weight within the world of the play. And the play is messing with it the whole time. Holy wood or water can destroy a ghost, but they live in a church. Something that Charles and Figaro comment on, but cannot interrogate in terms of what it means for their conviction. But they’re split on how to proceed - the fact that ghosts can live in it doesn’t shake their faith, though. Sister Ghost is there largely for this joke. A nun who is constantly evoking the divine, who would be killed by a consecrated item. 

[image description: the summary text over the chapel backdrop with the text of "the chapel where Jacob and the others were left behind was being filled with the scent of holy water.]

If I could add something to Mary Jane, I would have loved for Mary or Jacob to ask Sister Ghost what “God” means (this is a conversation that happens in bonus material for Tokyo Ghoul once, actually). I would have loved to have that brought up more explicitly. But it’s also very funny that it never is.

The first definitions for a God we get are them being applied to Mary herself, with plenty of ambiguity on if the Order’s faith itself has a mother figure at its center or not. And either way it’s a fascinating play on the idea, and the themes of the novel.

Closing Thoughts, Other Connections and Ideas "Beyond the Scope of this Essay"

Anyway, all of this while playing around with everything else going on in this play, Neji’s totally, without permission, commentary on Fumi, on Tsuki’s legacy (please read the stage script, somehow the game thought it was a good idea to cut that whole specific reference even when making Kisa pick between an “erase Tsuki” option) and on Kai. On himself as an artist. ("I am the one who is strange. With my changing moods, with my hobbies. That is why everyone thinks I'm strange and avoids me.”). As with several other plays, a commentary on authority, and on creation, and on isolation and friendship and connection. 

And, of course, what I’ve been holding back this whole little essay is that Mary Jane is, thematically, at its core, playing off the exact same situation as I Am Death. Like — both of these plays center around a woman pouring her emotions into an undead creature. I see you Neji. You can’t hide from me. Reading I Am Death as a Frankenstein Story remixed into an old Japanese mytho-history is a LOT of fun to do, but is, as the academics say, beyond the scope of this essay.

(and, I Am Death itself is about Neji and Chui, and the twisted, messy love-hate revenge drama they are acting out across all the routes in the game. Neji writes the plays that introduce Chui to the world. Then he runs. And spends the whole game trying to beat him (affectionate.). “Make me another like me” you say… 

Literally the only thing I’ve come up with to make the “bad end” CG more compelling to me, is that this is what it’s riffing on. I like my I Am Death costumes way weirder.)

Mary Jane is a Frankenstein Story, I Am Death is a Frankenstein Story, Jack Jeanne is a Frankenstein Story. The other, other thing I’m leaving out here is that the Order of the Shadows are OBVIOUSLY pulled from Tokyo Grand Guignol, aesthetically. And the most famous TGG play is Litchi Hikari Club, which is, say it with me, a Frankenstein Story. Also one that takes the themes of the novel (gender, love and sexuality, childhood, genius, violence, blind pursuit to the point of madness, god complexes) harder than most, but runs with it in nearly the exact opposite direction. But again, very much beyond the scope of this essay.

Also also also leaving out the fact that Tokyo Ghoul is... kind of ... not not a Frankenstein story. It certainly riffs on the motif quite a bit. Even if you've never read it, you've seen the mask design (an in universe riff on the joke.).

Even just one dimension of this play, and look how many words you've made me write Neji-senpai.

[image description: image from the bottom of the Mary Jane poster, with the cast list, showing the chapel ghosts with a focus on Ushinoko, Neji's character, looking towards the 'camera'.] Some little Halloween Spooktacular you’ve got there. Bravo.

[esther-dot]

Hello, hope you're having a pleasant day!

I've been meaning to ask you for a bit of professional jonsa opinion for a pretty long time about this little theory of mine - could that be a thing or am I being delusional jonsa (as I always do).

So in SoS, Sansa IV there is this moment in her period dream where she calls for people who could possibly protect her, her father and brothers are among this list. And it's seems like a normal thing to do - to call for her family - but, but, but, BUT! - she never calls for her mother. She never calls for arya. She calls for people (and Lady) who could theoretically actively protect her as she thinks (Dontos and Loras are here too)- so people are not there by default, her subconscious actively chooses people to call for.

And that raises one teeny tiny question. Why would she then be calling for Bran and Rikon? I can't imagine that Sansa who is old enough to see them as little boys crying in their cribs just a couple of years earlier would think of them as said brothers who can protect her/save her. Robb is understandable choice - but then who would be this at least one other brother?

So yeah, I've convinced myself that when she calls for her brothers to help she means Robb and Jon. Like, you know, all those hidden times characters think of other characters without "thinking" of them (I'm looking at you, Jon, with your little "willowy creature" and "sight so lovely" comments). Because it would be actually understandable thing - she may not be very close with boys in their childhood, but she would probably see them training or playing together or whatever noble boys do being boys. It would be enough for her to see them both as "strong brothers who could protect her in case of something bad happens" - consciously or subconsciously.

What do you think? Is it too far fetched? May be it's been discussed and I'm just unaware? I just wish we could have the level of "thinking but not actually thinking" from Sansa as we do with Jon.

Sorry, this ask came out way too long. Thank you for letting me share this thing!

Thank you! It has been A Day™ (...a week...a year….😅) Anyway, I haven't seen anyone point that out!

"No," she cried, "no, please, don't, don't," but no one paid her any heed. She shouted for Ser Dontos, for her brothers, for her dead father and her dead wolf, for gallant Ser Loras who had given her a red rose once, but none of them came. She called for the heroes from the songs, for Florian and Ser Ryam Redwyne and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, but no one heard. Women swarmed over her like weasels, pinching her legs and kicking her in the belly, and someone hit her in the face and she felt her teeth shatter. (ACOK, Sansa IV)

You know, I think you may be onto something because she is calling out to people who are in that "hero" role for her, it isn’t simply who she is close to (cuz you’re right, she doesn't call for her mother) and considering how she thinks of Bran and Rickon around that same time, it doesn't really fit her perception of them to think they're the ones she calls for?

"Sansa, did you hear? I'm to ride in the tourney today. Mother said I could." Tommen was all of eight. He reminded her of her own little brother, Bran. They were of an age. Bran was back at Winterfell, a cripple, yet safe. Sansa would have given anything to be with him. (ACOK, Sansa I) By now Arya was safe back in Winterfell, dancing and sewing, playing with Bran and baby Rickon,(ACOK, Sansa II)

As young as Robb is, she does view him as a hero who might avenge her as far back as AGOT,

After my name day feast, I'm going to raise a host and kill your brother myself. That's what I'll give you, Lady Sansa. Your brother's head." A kind of madness took over her then, and she heard herself say, "Maybe my brother will give me your head." (AGOT, Sansa VI)

and while we don't have a similar thought of Jon, we have good reason to think he might lurk as a hero figure too, considering how she romanticizes knights and thinks of the Watch:

In the songs, they were called the black knights of the Wall. (AGOT, Sansa III)

And, Jon is listed among her siblings in her next chapter, so he is in that "brother" grouping at this point in the story:

She sang for mercy, for the living and the dead alike, for Bran and Rickon and Robb, for her sister Arya and her bastard brother Jon Snow, away off on the Wall. (ACOK, Sansa V)

There's more of a distinction later, Jonsas have suggested Martin intentionally aims to create distance between her and Jon in ASOS where she seems to forget him:

But she had not forgotten his words, either. The heir to Winterfell, she would think as she lay abed at night. It's your claim they mean to wed. Sansa had grown up with three brothers. She never thought to have a claim, but with Bran and Rickon dead . . . It doesn't matter, there's still Robb, he's a man grown now, and soon he'll wed and have a son. (ASOS, Sansa II)

That exclusion might just be because she's thinking of who has a claim? It certainly heightens the "alone in the world" feeling she has in ASOS and AFFC until our favorite moment,

Oh, and the Night's Watch has a boy commander, some bastard son of Eddard Stark's." "Jon Snow?" she blurted out, surprised. "Snow? Yes, it would be Snow, I suppose." She had not thought of Jon in ages. He was only her half brother, but still . . . with Robb and Bran and Rickon dead, Jon Snow was the only brother that remained to her. I am a bastard too now, just like him. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again. But of course that could never be. Alayne Stone had no brothers, baseborn or otherwise. (AFFC, Alayne II)

Where he returns to being "brother." So no, I don't think this is far fetched at all, especially when Martin has designated Jon as her hero, a fun twist we don't get until ADWD and will truly play out in TWOW, so it makes sense to me that he wouldn't name Jon (to kinda, preserve the element of surprise), but that upon their reunion we will see that even though Jon and Sansa aren't close and Sansa will have this curious, brother and yet not quite, view of him, it's a positive light in which she sees him, a heroic light.

I buy it, anon! Thank you for sharing this theory. I fully support any and all Jonsa delusions! 🥰