#I am very skilled at becoming unhinged about things

[deadmountaindaughter]

it. it what

@junk-thrillz I am BEGGING you to confirm or deny this for me

[amarynthian-chronicles]

Tip the Scales Chapter 1

Prosecutor Sun, Prosecutor Moon, Judge Eclipse x Defense Lawyer (Devil's Advocate) Reader

(You are a charismatic defense lawyer in a constant competition with two ruthless prosecutors that do not understand your ideals about criminals deserving a second chance. You are also housemates with a certain bitter and retired judge, who has a habit of operating at night as a cloaked figure known as the Judge of the Damned. Things get complicated when your old friend Monty gets accused of a murder he claims to not have committed willingly. Will you balance the scales once more?)

Warnings: suggestive themes, possessive behaviour, mentions of violence

There was a particular universal truth that court employees would never dare to admit about court proceedings: not a single one of them actually wanted to be there. Those that did enjoy being present during a session were either lying to themselves or were being paid obscene amounts of cash to pretend to care. In other extreme cases, it was all a part of unhinged ambition sprinkled with a dash of insanity.

Normally the whole process was a dreary affair, varying from sordid and depressing, all the way to showing what an administrative inferno the whole institution had become over time. True to the Dickensian fashion of describing things, one could say that the gloomy and omnipresent fog that had consumed the city with the arrival of Fall was equally present in the courtroom itself, both metaphorically and literally, entering every pore and chilling everyone to the bone.

However, in our specific situation things were getting quite heated. The cold September fog had been rudely pushed aside by the steam of intense and fiery debate you were having with prosecuting attorney Sun.

A bitter rivalry existed between you and the celestial-themed animatronic, but over the past year it seemed to have bloomed into obsessive fascination on Sun's part. We could classifiy it as another universal truth that one was bound to eventually become infatuated and captivated by their “nemesis“.

Placing you two in the same room was a very bad idea. Or a very good idea, it honestly depended on who you asked. For instance, the general public that had come to listen to your long nonsensical argument had arrived there for the sole purpose of finding out whether you two would passionately kiss somewhere in the middle of the whole discussion.

The suspense was maddening, the tension was more than palpable. One of the clerks was fanning himself with a folder, wondering whether or not he had taken his heart medication earlier.

“Could somebody open a window, please?“

There had always been an unusually thin line between love and hatred, enemies and lovers, but somehow it seemed oddly fitting for you and Sun to combine both at the same time with no problem.

After a well crafted comeback, believing himself to be the victor, Sun winked at you, triumphant and his grin wide and sinister.

“Was that as good for you as it was for me?“

“My dear sir, I cannot say, I hardly even felt anything.“

“I was under the impression that we have long abandoned this little “playing hard to get“ scenario.“

“Goodness, that sounds serious, delusions could be a sign of a system malfunction, you should get that checked, Sun.“

“Don't be so high and mighty. You will lose today, both the case and the little bet we made.“

“Oh, my, so ominous. I sure am devastated on the inside, inconsolable, I shall probably never recover.“

You were driving him insane. Healthy competition was usually highly encouraged, but this was beyond ridiculous. No matter how eloquent and skillful he was in the art of rhetoric, you refused to yield. You were still a relatively young jurist, having passed the bar examination barely two years prior, but your legal reasoning was unusually innovative and your application of creative solutions to impossible problems was astounding. There wasn't a single thing that Sun could throw at you without you catching it and throwing it ten times harder right back at him.

The judge, an elderly man that was diligently counting down the days till it was socially acceptable to retire from what was regularly a life tenure, was listening to the two of you bicker as if it were the latest installment of his favourite picture show series. He wondered if he should simply let you silly lovebirds borrow his chambers for a minute or two. Or thirty, wherever the feeling takes you. He was very supportive.

He was also the only judge in the building willing to tolerate the nonsense that you and the Celestial Prosecutors kept pulling off in the courtroom. It was free entertainment and he needed some amusement in his old age. The rest of the judicial assembly would have to pull straws each time a new case had to be assigned.

He remembered how different things had been a few years prior.

It was an open secret that the judicial assembly missed the old days when the esteemed Judge Eclipse had still been in office, before his abrupt retirement under unusual circumstances. Eclipse would always volunteer to do all the work, snatching case files from everybody's hands and closing himself in his chambers, leaving the possibility for the rest of the assembly to simply enjoy their coffee and gossip in the conference room.

Intense and immensely dedicated to his work, unyielding, unforgiving and merciless, Eclipse had been akin to a dark deity of the afterlife, deciding the fate of souls that had succumbed to corruption. His golden eyes had held nothing but pure contempt for evildoers, his mechanical heart perpetually hungry for the suffering of the wicked. Court sessions under his administrations had been a thing of horror for some and an example of a job well-done for others. Deranged and disproportionate punishments had made Eclipse quite unpopular in the criminal milieu, and there had been quite a few attempts on his life that would usually end up with the assassins themselves having their spines twisted into a pretty pretzel.

Self-defense, clear-cut, no questions asked, nobody left to mourn a few dismembered rulebreakers.

The euphoria had been too intoxicating, the flesh of Evil too delicious, the screams of the damned a symphony unmatched.

One thing had lead to another, interfering into interrogations, conflict of interest, violating every possible rule of criminal procedure, prisoners being found dead in their cells, acquitted individuals dying under suspicious circumstances mere days after their release.

The courthouse and law enforcement would always turn a blind eye. Whispers in the corridors, silent gasps in the archive rooms, everybody knew of Eclipse's tendencies, his desire to play god. Nobody had dared to make a fuss about the whole situation, not even when a few fellow judges that had been accused of bribery had one day "mysteriously" disappeared. It was all a silent approval. Crime statistics had been fixing themselves, who would dare interfere?

Deciding to return to topics less grim and vile, the current judge smiled fondly at the prosecutors and the sly defense lawyer before him. Such a sweet change, whimsy and passion reigning supreme, banishing the sepulchral dread of olden times.

Contrary to custom, Sun was working with his brother Moon by his side. It was definitely unusual for two prosecutors to work together on same cases and appear in court as a team, but nobody had ever complained about it and regulations had no explicit rule against it. It was Moon's duty to make a thorough research and keep Sun informed of any new facts or legal acts in order for Sun to prepare a proper presentation to enthrall everyone in the courtroom or ask for appropriate actions.

They used all of their individual strengths and skills to achieve the best results. Reminiscent of their older brother's inclinations, their methods and ruthless determination in the pursuit of their version of justice at all costs had become notorious, eventually making the general public refer to them as the Grand Inquisitors.

All of that aside, the two of them still had to make sure that each investigation went perfectly by the books and that there were no irregularities made by law enforcement in the initial stages of each investigation. Being a prosecutor was akin to being a sea captain that constantly kept hoping that his crew was sober. One single mistake meant that the other party would pounce on it like a feral animal.

And pounce you did.

For instance, you were easily capable of rendering a whole confession useless by claiming it was inadmissible evidence obtained through coercion. It was no trouble for you to stage a whole scene.

You had pulled off such a stunt a few times in the past and the results would always follow a hilarious pattern: the confused police officers would simply blink and question their general reality on whether they had truly applied excessive force, the public audience would try not to snack too loudly on the popcorn they had brought, the defendant would do his best to keep crying and keeping his story straight about how absolutely devastated and tortured he was, the judge would hope that no reporters would come crawling in the courtroom and asking about human rights violations. Again.

The celestial twins were unused to such audacity and blows to their pride. Sun and Moon had always been a powerful force that had never known the meaning of failure, the playing field had been theirs to dominate and it was pure madness to even think that anyone could place an end to that. And then you showed up and suddenly the courtroom was a circus, you were the ringmaster and you turned the two of them into the lead jesters of the whole show.

They were furious with you for making a mockery of their act. How dare you?

Moon did his best to remain subtle with his temper, even if his pencils did audibly snap in half from time to time. He had to keep an appearance a patient man, someone courteous and polite. It was of great importance to keep that thick layer of ice above the boiling madness that stirred deep within.

Oh, how you tested his patience still. It all kept accumulating, over and over, cracking the ice bit by bit.

He could write a masterpiece of scholarly analysis and a seemingly perfect reconstruction of events, and you would destroy all of that effort simply by telling him he wrote a date wrong, messing up the entire chronology and all further conclusions, rendering the whole thing useless. You always tripped him with the little things, formalities, so many tidbits that made the whole construction fall apart.

The devil was in the details, after all.

Speaking of which, since the majority of your clients were desperate people that had strayed from the morals of society into a life of crime for mere survival, you had earned yourself the title of Devil's Advocate among your colleagues. The world of your clients, however, was quite grateful for your services and assistance, all of them calling you their Fairy Godparent.

You got them out of trouble, you found them alternatives and new respectful jobs, you gave and gave, granting wishes and making them all happily dance to your music. If anyone had issues or needed help, they knew who to come to. You were waiting with good life advice, cupcakes, a hot cup of coffee and assurance that you would solve all of their problems. In many cases, you were the last angel before the gates of Hell for them, grasping their hand and pulling them back to safety.

After all, placing their fate in your hands was a far better alternative than sinking deeper into darkness and one day being inevitably visited in the middle of the night by the Judge of the Damned, having their life taken as the midnight bells rang.

Because of this looming threat, you did your best to save each soul you came across.

In this particular case, it was a young man that had gotten himself in some serious trouble after associating with a dangerous faction of drug dealers. Such business always came with its risks and there was no true loyalty nor help if someone got caught. Moreover, it was common practice to silence the person from revealing the others by simply ordering their assassination in prison. The young man had gotten way in over his head, too ambitious and too confident in his own abilities, intoxicated with the romantic ideas of what he had seen in movies.

His older brothers had approached you for help after his arrest and you had accepted, of course. You would get the boy out of trouble, free of charge, under the condition that he dedicated himself to getting his life back on track and you would be making sure things stayed that way.

Sun was still waiting for you to speak, and the rest of the room was wondering whether or not you were truly speechless this time or if you were simply preparing something spectacular. Of course, it was the latter. You had pulled a lot of strings and cashed in a few favours, but it was all for a good cause. You heard Sun's impatient voice:

“Ready to admit defeat? There is no conceivable way for you to counter any of this evidence, it is over.“

“Only for those that lack the imagination to do so. I call in question the credibility and the competence of your toxicology expert. You cannot claim that my client was in possession or consuming a certain substance, if its chemical components do no even match what you claim it to be.“

“Pure cocaine was found on his person. He has been known to associate himself with dangerous smugglers of forbidden narcotics.“

“A second analysis, that I took the liberty of ordering from another expert, proved that it was mere flour.“

“Excuse me?“

“He is a baker's apprentice. Poor boy, he is just keeping all of that secret out of shame, which is why we did not mention this earlier, by the way. Alas, I cannot keep this silence anymore, for I must act in his best interest. You see, ever since he was a small lad, it was his dream to make fine Danish pastries, but everyone in his general vicinity was obsessed with the whole “dashing gangster“ persona that is so popular right now, so no wonder that this sad young man, just look at his eyes, this poor innocent child tried to emulate all of that simply to get some respect from his cruel peers. So, he walked around with flour and pretended that it was cocaine. It is all because of societal pressure.“

Had Sun been gifted with a detachable jaw, it would have fallen on the floor by now. It was madness. Your claim was pure madness. He wasn't certain, but he did feel as if all of his systems were about to crash down in a sad attempt at self-preservation. Moon's crimson eyes had turned black and he seemed as if he were silently rebooting himself. It was best for everyone to have him unconscious for a bit, otherwise he would have probably gotten violent. The stenographer stopped typing and blinked at you in a very “what the actual hell“ manner and the old judge took his glasses off emphatically as people normally do in such situations for no specific reason other than dramatic effect.

“God, I haven't felt this much excitement since my last divorce.“

The defendant was very much surprised to hear this as well. He gestured for you to come closer and whispered to you:

“I am a baker's apprentice?“

“You are now. Be the role, become the role, make the rolls. Also, you start next Monday at five in the morning, I got everything already arranged with the baker on main street. This whole process should by over by then.“

“What? The only dough I know how to roll is the monetary one.“

“You learn while you live.“

The poor man looked at you with the expression of someone that would really rather just go to prison than go through such blood pressure oscillations.

His brothers, three friendly chaps in dashing suits, homburg hats and leather gloves, were all smiling and holding a thumbs up in encouragement. He turned around to look at them with a genuinely desperate expression. Listening to this nonsense was punishment enough, regardless if he did the crime or not. They had assured him that you were the best, but nobody ever said that your methods were the sanest.

You cleared your throat and spoke up again:

“In light of this and to support these claims, I enclose all the necessary documents and I am prepared to call the relevant new witnesses if you agree, Your Honour.“

“I can adjourn, I personally got no problem with continuing this on a later day of the week. I have to tell you, you kids are keeping me young, I always thought that my later years in life would be boring. Boy, I sure was wrong.“

A partially drunk man from the spectator area began to clap.

“Bravo!“

The bailiff looked over at him.

“What are you clapping for?“

“I thought this was the theatre.“

“It's a courtroom, is what it is.“

“What's the difference?“

Just as you were about to sit down, Moon was suddenly by your side, having miraculously finished his little reboot session and feeling more energized than ever. It was rather concerning, since he was capable of pulling such a stunt within mere seconds, changing location so fast before you could even register it. You had a theory that he was probably capable of some type of flight or teleportation.

You made a little squeak of surprise as you felt his hands on your shoulders, pulling you close to his face plate, crimson eyes trying to cut your soul to shreds. Nevertheless, you refused to lose your decorum and you kept up an air of aristocratic disinterest.

“May I help you, sir?“

“Don't give me that. You know exactly what you are doing. I am not letting you humiliate us like this again.“

“And you are going to make things better for yourself by intimidating me in public like this? I really want to know what the plan is, I'm curious now.“

“Curiosity will kill you one day, little devil fairy.“

“I am certain that satisfaction will bring me back. What exactly do you want from me?“

He squeezed your shoulders and began to lightly massage them. It was oddly pleasurable, since you were tense and tired. Moon's voice was low, raspy, almost a whisper, akin to that of a nocturnal demon that haunted the shadows and ruled over nightmares.

“What goes around comes around and one day I will humiliate you, as well. I will tear those fairy wings apart.“

“Do you think I am afraid of you?“

“You should be. But, yes, I do have an additional request. Meet us in the conference room as soon as we are done here. We wish to talk.“

For a moment it seemed as if the two of you had forgotten that you were in an oddly compromising embrace in front of the entire courtroom. The same man from the spectator area whispered to the bailiff:

“Is this when the smooching starts? I could have sworn I read it somewhere in the play synopsis.“

“This is not the theatre!“

“Listen, Shakespeare once said that the whole world is a stage. He also said that we should kill all the lawyers, though, but I vote that we keep these three here, I need to know what happens next.“

A normal person would refuse to accept Moon's request after his little outburst, but you wished to talk to him and Sun, as well. Perhaps the old saying of “keep your friends close and your enemies closer“ had some wisdom to it, but you also genuinely wished to somewhat make peace with them. Maybe even explain your perspective and your ideas of justice to them. If things got really wild, possibly even form some fragile bond of friendship.

“Alright, I will be there, I just need some time to get my things first and I will also fetch a cup of coffee.“

You pushed him away and he allowed you to do so. However, his gaze was still on you even as everyone had risen and prepared to leave for the day. He watched you as you cheerfully talked with your client and his family, so warm, so caring. They gave you presents to show their appreciation, bags full of chocolates, teddy bears and a ridiculously large plush rabbit. Such whimsical things, childish and ridiculous, and yet your eyes almost had sparkles from how happy you were.

You were considered a beauty by many, but you were not coquettish, ignoring any amorous comments with your usual aristocratic disdain. Your hair was long and soft, well taken care of, but there were always a few little disobedient tufts that almost appeared like tiny and cute devil horns. It was impossible to straighten them out and you simply let them be.

You had a penchant for black pinstripe suits. However, the professional sterness was mitigated by the presence of a star-shaped pink diamond brooch pinned to the striped bow on your chest area. Moon found it conveniently suitable for your “fairy godparent“ aesthetic. The diamond would catch even the faintest amounts of light, reflecting it on surrounding walls to signify that you were approaching. You were wondrous, gentle hues of pink always heralding your arrival.

Sun spoke to him as the two of them made their way to the conference room, distracting him from his reveries:

“They are so cold to us and yet so warm to them. Did you see that smile?“

“Our fairy sees value in miscreants and mongrels. It is only a matter of time before those strays bite the hand that feeds them and then the little fool will come crying to us.“

“It would be cruel of us to refuse them a warm embrace, brother.“

Moon pondered the thought, the potential image of you in a disheveled state, disappointed and heartbroken. There was something wonderfully poetic about the idea of your rose garden withering away. It was a fair trade for all the times you kept trying to ruin their own view of the world. He and Sun were the righteous hands of justice and not even you could protect your little army of demons forever, shielding them with your dark angel wings till one day their final feather crumbles to dust. A misguided fallen little seraph had to have limits.

Sun and Moon waited for good while for you to arrive. Getting coffee was serious business, after all.

The windows in the conference room were covered with Venetian blinds, creating a game of light and shadow, giving it an air of mystery and melancholy. However, the moment you entered, your diamond brooch cast little sparkles of warm pink all over the walls.

You were carrying the bags with gifts and also balancing your coffee cup. It was honestly a miracle you did not spill everything yet. You set it all on the large table and for a moment you almost seemed to have forgotten the two animatronics even existed as you were fiddling with the little treats you had received.

“These chocolates are my favourite. It is a shame you two can't eat, you are missing pure heaven. Now, what exactly did you two want to talk about?“

Sun was very straightforward and went right down to business.

“You cheated, lied and manipulated facts today.“

“Me? I can only aspire to be that productive in one single afternoon.“

“Furthermore, you shamelessly tried to avoid the consequences of losing our little bet.“

“Tell me something: are you more upset about the case or the bet? It seems to me as if the latter is tormenting you more than the former.“

“I am not answering that.“

“If you wanted a date, all you had to do was ask like a sensible man, we don't need these convoluted schemes for something that simple.“

“Would you, then?“

“No.“

“See, this is why we need the schemes.“

“Such a tragedy your problems are, Sun.“

You opened another box of chocolates and you were wondering whether to try the one with dark ganache filling or the one with hazelnut cream. You were rudely interrupted when Moon lifted your chin up to look at him.

“You are no longer going to prance around acting as if the justice system is your own personal circus. If we expose what you did today, you will be kicked out of the Lawyers' Association and you will lose your license to practice.“

“That sounds so depressing when you put it that way.“

“I personally can appreciate what you were trying to do for all those people in the past year or so, but enough is enough. We could have offered you a plea bargain, had you only asked us. We are more than happy to settle if those puppies of yours mean that much to you, but they will need to serve time, whether you like it or not.“

“When they get in the system, it's over, it will haunt them and follow them for the rest of their lives, from getting employment all the way to daily life and relationships.“

“None of that is your concern, Y/N. You cannot save everyone.“

“With all due respect, Moon, you have no right to tell me what to do. I do not hate you, but I will not tolerate you being in my way either. Do not be fooled by my kind nature, you have no idea who you are playing with. Dreams can become Nightmares fairly quickly.“

“I am saying all of this because I do not want you to share the same unfortunate fate that keeps repeating itself in your family. Always best friends with the wrong lot. You need to stop fraternizing with criminals, for your own good.“

Moon expected a specific reaction from you with that statement, foolishly assuming that he would hit the right spot, that he would cause fear, pain, uncertainty and a need to run somewhere for some emotional safety. Even Sun knew that he had gone too far with that topic.

You were not having it. Yes, you were a regal and delicate flower. However, that flower was also poisonous and with plenty of thorns. You huffed at him.

“Oh, so we are playing that card now? While we are on the subject of family tradition and dubious practices, I am well aware of the person that gets rid of the truly bad people. Did he ever come for any of my current and recent clients? No. Therefore I don't see why you are so determined to lecture me about helping those that only do crime out of necessity, not evil. If anything, this is just petty revenge because you hate losing and because you are a manipulative jerk with no empathy for the misfortunate, Moon. If you wish to punish someone, start with yourself.“

That certainly did hit a nerve.

Moon went over to the window, pulling the blinds shut and letting the room bathe in darkness, the pink light disappearing. You blinked to adjust your eyes.

“Is this really necessary?

Moon's voice was unusually low, almost a whisper:

"Is darkness not a familiar thing to you, little devil fairy? You certainly seem to linger in the shadows, refusing to see the light, you are blind and unable to grasp reality as it is."

You sighed and shrugged.

"That is still better than believing in blind justice. Also, at least I got the comfort of knowing that Sun over here cannot see anything right now, either.“

The daylight animatronic made a huff at your words.

“I still know the basic layout of the room, thank you very much.“

Sun then leaned over to you and whispered:

“Now, why did you have to tell him all that? He is very touchy on that subject.“

“Well, he started it.“

“And you had to continue it?“

“Yes. I too am allowed to be petty.“

Moon's crimson optics were the only light left and they were getting closer, wicked and menacing. Their glow suddenly disappeared and all that was heard was Moon's malicious cackling. Even with Sun present, you knew you were pretty much screwed and that it was best if you made your merry way in the opposite direction.

An interesting chain of events followed that led to even more interesting consequences. You reached for the nearby bag that had the giant bunny plushie in it, throwing it in the general direction of Moon's laughter, hoping that it would hit him and buy you enough time to run out of the room. However, you miscalculated while waving your hand, accidentally hitting Sun in the face instead. In your defense, you could barely see a damn thing in the dark.

As this happened, Sun stepped backwards out of sheer instinct, bumping right into Moon as he was trying to elegantly sneak up. This caused Moon to lose balance and fall on the floor. As he tried to catch onto the table to pull himself back up, his hand landed directly on the coffee cup and the whole contents spilled over the edge right onto him, ruining his coat, vest and shirt.

Needless to say how much noise you three idiots had made in the process.

You reached for another bag, and you began to swing it around without a care in the world.

“Stay back, both of you, I am armed with plushies and I am not afraid to use them.“

Sun's face kept being caught in the collateral damage, of course. With a swift motion, he managed to catch you and pick you up, placing you on the table and pinning your wrists to it to stop you from further attacking him with such a deadly weapon. Meanwhile, Moon was removing his coffee-stained coat and vest, lamenting how the whole fabric was ruined now.

“This is not how I envisioned this meeting to transpire.“

The whole scene was then interrupted when a clerk opened the door, seeing the two celestial animatronics looming over you while you were lying on the table, Sun holding your wrists and Moon having half his clothes off.

The man blinked a few times, before clapping in joy.

“Oh, my god, finally. I have been placing my bets on the three of you for months. I have to tell the others that they owe me money. They said you three would get together by December, but I was a visionary and I said somewhere in Fall. Ah, passion! Such a fantastic thing. Have fun, you crazy lovebirds, you! I'll tell the group of people that is standing right outside not to disturb you for the next few hours, okay? Okay, take care.“

He closed the door and left, leaving the room in darkness again. A few moments passed and you burst out laughing, unable to control yourself. The situation was absurd and you were starting to love every minute of it.

“I must say, this madness is better than some boring date. We should do it again sometime.“

AO3 Link

[naamahdarling]

Do you have a favorite musical?

If so, what are your favorite lyrics from it, and why?

ALW's CATS.

Is it a surreal mess? Yes! But I love it before everything else.

The lyrics are silly but very clever. Most are at least partly by TS Eliot, drawn from a wonderfully nonsensical book of poems.

I think my favorite song is the Invitation to the Jellicle Ball, neck and neck with Mr Mistoffelees.

My favorite cat is Mistoffelees by a lot, followed by the Rum Tum Tugger. They are in love.

But the part that makes me feel the most in my heart is Grizabella. The only cat I relate to is Grizabella.

Memory is the big number that everyone knows and I do absolutely love it, it's one of my favorite songs and probably the best in the musical as it was before CATS 2019 introduced a new song, but I feel that out of context it simply doesn't have punch. It gets trotted out to showcase a singer's skill, as a bit of a tearjerker if you're a sentimental person. It is so much more than that.

I didn't understand Grizabella properly until I was well and truly an adult and had taken in multiple cats off the street, and lived near a colony, and watched my own cats become frail, which are all painful things in many ways; AND until I had begun to really feel the weight of my marginalization as a disabled person and an ill person, which means confronting almost daily the fact that I am unlikely to come to the sort of end I would like.

Hold on because I'm going to be unhinged about this cat for a minute.

Grizabella is an aged stray, once welcomed, now abandoned and unloved, considered ugly even by others like her (who are shown to supposedly accept differences and value, or at least respect, most everyone...but not her).

She lives in a haunted, lonely state unacknowledged by anyone except to be driven away. She can no longer care for herself, she is filthy and matted and scarred and probably in a lot of pain, she is starving, and she has nothing but her memories of better times, and every single dawn is both a gift and a miserable curse. She gets to remember. She has to remember.

If you watch, Grizabella is onstage a LOT, she's just off in the background, usually poorly lit, where she tries to mirror the dances happening on the main part of the stage, dances she knows because that was once her, there in the spotlight, shining. But now she's in too much pain to dance and her body isn't working right anymore. I have no doubt Grizabella is dying. The question is whether she will get to do that well, comforted and with dignity, or do it badly and alone.

I cannot HANDLE Grizabella.

If you have even the tiniest inkling of love for cats, if you believe every cat's life is worth something, her story should destroy you.

The legendary Jennifer Hudson's performance in the movie brought a really angry and confrontational turn to her, and it was flat out amazing. A rebuke of a performance. It really hurts to watch but it's what the role has always needed. She isn't just weak and sad, she clings to the tatters of her dignity and is angry that the others don't see her as a whole person. Just a miserable shadow to be avoided. A cautionary tale. We are never told what terrible thing she did to deserve her fall, and given that most of the Jellicles are young, I don't know that any of them really remember.

I will physically fight anyone who says she should not have been selected to ascend to a new life. She was the only choice. Even Gus. Even him. He can have his turn next year. Grizabella does not have another year in her.

And I'm going to make some folks mad but I love the 2019 movie (it's bad) and the new song, Beautiful Ghosts, is amazing, and I DO prefer Taylor Swift's version as the movie version is a little more timid (fitting the role and musical way better) but TS fucking BELTS IT and I get chills every time.

The lyrics are incredible and the song is gorgeous, gorgeous. And strung together with Grizabella's song, it finishes the musical in a way that it was a bit unfinished before. It uses an actual full song to connect Grizabella to the Ball and the Choice more directly than any choreography ever did or could:

Victoria, the White Cat and viewpoint character, still almost a kitten, has been dumped in the street and into a terrifying and beautiful new life.

After being swept up into its wonder, she sees Grizabella, utterly rejected, hissed at, made fun of, despised, and aches with the injustice of it -- Victoria was snatched right up by the other cats the instant her paws hit the ground, but nobody will take in Grizabella. Not even her own kind.

Victoria sees how strangely similar they are and feels a kinship that has no pity in it at all, but wonder and respect.

So Victoria sings this new song expressing the first admiration Grizabella has heard in god alone knows how long, reminding her she has had an amazing life worth envy and renown, and she pulls this horrible decrepit old mess of a cat into the Jellicle Ball, where she is FINALLY relieved of her pain.

Like? I'm crying right now?

It isn't a serious musical, but Grizabella's story runs through it like a cold current, something real and terrible, surrounded by absolute ridiculousness. Her numbers are deadly serious, never played for laughs. And ultimately it is her story that turns out to be the most important one, the truest one, and it is dark, and it is hopeful but only in only the most painful and grief-stricken way. She isn't brought back into a comfortable life with other cats to be happy and surrounded by love. She essentially...dies and goes to cat heaven. She embodies hope itself to the others, and her ascension represents a deeply humbling lesson in humility and grace. Her suffering and her ascent represent the possible future of every one of them, and now they have to confront that, and their treatment of her. She was rewarded, and for all their beauty and charm they were not.

Anyway I'm not normal about it.

The lyrics from Beautiful Ghosts that I love are:

Perilous night, their voices calling. A flicker of light, before the dawning. Out here the wild ones are taming the fear within me. Scared to call them my friends and be broken again. Is this hope just a mystical dream?

and

And so maybe my home Isn't what I had known, what I thought it would be. But I feel so alive With these phantoms of night, and I know that this life isn't safe but it's wild and it's free!

Like, come on. It's a lovely song and it took my breath away in the theater.

Ugh this musical touched me as a feral cat girl of 10 and it touches me again as a sad catguy in their 40s. Truly a very stupid work of weirdly meaningful art and one for the ages.

There are much better musicals, but none of them are part of me.

[sleeplesssmoll]

The Timekeeper and the Warden (Reverse 1999 AU)

I know I said I was studying but this is all @blehhhhhsthings fault! They keep making me brainstorm (thank you but also what have you done lol)

I was inspired by their Mask Tk au, but I put my own twist on it since I am a twisted individual. This is the scenario:

Vertin and Sonetto never make up after the break-away event because instead of Madam Z reaching Smoltin, Manus does first. They were waiting for her because they heard rumors about a child with Storm Immunity from their inside sources. Finding Vertin as the only child left confirmed those rumors.

Sonetto never gets over Vertin. She thinks about the way she treated Smoltin and blames herself for Vertin's Reversal.

Years later, Sonetto graduates as the top of her class and becomes a field Investigator so she can witness the outside world Vertin longed for. Two years after her graduation (roughly 6 years after break-away), a Manus Vindictae Renegade waltzes through the Foundation's front door. Sonetto pins her to the ground but falters when she realizes they have silver hair. However, she can't see her face because of her mask. The voice is both unfamiliar and nostalgic (because Smoltin is grown up now) but she doesn't have time to dwell on it. The deserter doesn't resist and claims they want to stop Manus more than they hate the Foundation. She's seen the way they treats arcanists who aren't purebloods and the unnecessary violence. She wanted to escape long ago and waited for the perfect opportunity.

Constantine decides to interrogate her further, especially once she sees the special umbrella the renegade brought with her. She must be one of Arcana's pets.

Later, the renegade becomes the Foundation's Timekeeper, and Sonetto is her Warden. While the Timekeeper has flexibility within the Foundation due to her rare Storm Immunity, it's Sonetto's job to keep her in line.

The Foundation also sealed off the Timekeeper's ability to communicate by branding an arcane skill (a curse really) around her throat. She can only speak with her Warden's permission and even if she tries to be sneaky by writing or something, the markings burn red and are incredibly painful (they're triggered by intent, like the bangles on the Island that Arcana and Vertin wore in the real story). Sonetto thinks it's cruel but Constantine informs her its for everyone's safety. This deserter has a silver tongue and she plants dangerous ideas in people's heads. By limiting how much she can say and forcing her to have Sonetto nearby in order to speak, they reduce her opportunities of betrayal. Besides, she's already betrayed Manus. Who's to say she won't turn her back on them next and return with their secrets? Sonetto's whole thing is loyalty and devotion so she starts off very cold with the Timekeeper.

The Timekeeper no longer wears a Manus Hand Mask, but a monochrome Foundation mask that covers her upper face (as much coverage as Bessmert's blindfolds or 2B's mask from Nier so it covers her freckles but leaves her mouth open to eat and make smug smiles with). It completely hides her eyes but she can see better than the average person through it since it has the same enchantment as the other Investigators (the ones that completely cover their face like in the prologue).

The Masked Timekeeper does the sort of the same thing as the Timekeeper we know. She shelters "unhinged" arcanists and takes on the most dangerous missions since her people are considered dangerous and disposable. She is very protective of her crew.

However, she and Sonetto are painfully awkward.

Vertin has no idea how to interact with her former deskmate. In her mind, Sonetto was always nice enough to put up with her but actually couldn't stand her. She doesn't blame Sonetto either because she was...difficult. While Vertin is a touchy and affectionate person, she hesitates with Sonetto or changes her mind last minute.

Meanwhile, Sonetto hates this game of hot and cold she ends up in every time they interact. As much as she hates to admit it, the TK grew on her. She's kind, sincere, and never treats Sonetto like her Warden but as part of her beloved crew. They argue at times but Sonetto never uses her status as Warden to silence her. There is an odd understanding between them even if they never seem to get one another.

This Vertin was raised by Arcana instead of Madam Z. She's a smooth talker and a skilled fighter outside of her crappy arcanum. Instead of a stoic face, she smiles (like Arcana but a smug smile instead of Arcana's creepy "I dare you" one.)

As much as she says she despises Arcana, she kept the Umbrella she gave her. The Umbrella is infused with Arcana's slime and can shape-shift into many things: a shield, a sword, a cane, heck even a fishing pole (she did this to piss Arcana off but her leader found it amusing and creative). This Vertin is also completely shameless when it comes to manipulating others as a means to an end.

She finds out what you desire most and uses that against you. It's one of the reasons Constantine branded her.

"You deserve more. They can't give you that, but I can," type of persuasion. She also frustrates Sonetto by talking around her instead of answering her questions or telling her what's on her mind.

Eventually Sonetto opens up to the Timekeeper about a friend she lost long ago. She's afraid one day she'll forget her.

Vertin has no idea she's talking about her because she didn't think Sonetto thought of her as a friend, just a deskmate she was stuck with. She assumed her friend fell in battle. Lots of people were reversed too so she still doesn't connect the dots until Sonetto specifically brings up the break-away event.

Vertin's name was added to the Forbidden List and you'd be punished for saying it (like the word "Storm" before it was public knowledge). This is one of the reasons the Timekeeper took so long to put together Sonetto's still grieving for her. She's not sure how to deal with this but she doesn't know how to make Sonetto happy. All these years later and she's still a burden on her deskmate.

Some things never change.

Aaaaand that's where I decided to start writing my story from. Although, I could sprinkle this background information throughout...if I knew what I was doing anyway. Reverse did it with AS while Vertin was in a coma so I decided on a dream route.

Sonetto is so scared she'll forget Vertin, she uses AS to see her again. However, she can never remember the color of her eyes. Smoltin would lower them when she spoke to her or avoid her gaze after she found out Sonetto asked the Instructor if she could switch deskmates. That's why it was the first thing she forgot. This makes her panic!

I also want to put Yeni in this fic. She's sooo much like Sonetto but more direct and sarcastic. Essentially, what she and the TK develop is what Sonetto and the TK could have been.

Sonetto tells herself she doesn't care. She's only worried about remembering Vertin and nothing else matters–

But how come she's never seen the TK's face but Yen has!? Unfair. She's known her longer.

Sonetto hasn't realized the others have seen Vertin's face. Constantine only dictated she wear the mask on missions to represent the Foundation, but doesn't care about what Vertin does in her free time once she realizes it's THAT VERTIN. Not many people recall what Smoltin looked like since she was never in the Spotlight due to her awful grades and she was tiny. Just harder to notice in general, especially when everyone's looking down to see her. The school did their best to cover up her past since she had no family to fight for her anyway. They were her "family" since she was a month old.

Vertin finds it hard to face Sonetto so she doesn't take it off in front of her. It's easier this way. She's also still figuring things out.

Constantine's happy her little pawn returned as a more powerful piece to play with. Madam Z cries a bit when she see Vertin, the child she failed to save.

Idk what to call this au or even if it's worth naming if I don't actually do anything with it but I'm open to opinions!

[highladyluck]

AU thought: Nynaeve is born in Seanchan and raised from childhood as a damane

Immediate first thought (besides ‘why did you choose violence’) is that she’d probably be the best, still. She’s making it onto Tuon’s entourage. I am in pain thinking about it.

This is my AU, so I’m going to solve a personal mystery and say that her dad is Ajimbura & she’s from the Kaensada Hills. Let’s say her mom still died early from illness & dad still taught her how to hunt & track before she was tested. In fact, Ajimbura treated Nyneave as his son because he had seen her channeling at an unusually early age & was hoping declaring her his son could protect her from being made damane.

The Kaensada Hills are rural and unassimilated enough that this was not quite as useless an idea as it might seem, and let’s say they also had very functional ideas of gender roles- if someone does Man Things, they are A Man for all intents and purposes, or vice versa.

Spoiler: It doesn’t work, the sul’dam do eventually get around to testing even there and if there’s a saidar channeler, they’re gonna grab her. Nyneave becomes damane around 13. She still has that Talent for Healing, but because most Seanchan don’t want a damane working on them in that way, she’s only allowed to practice on other damane. It’s a Talent and not something that can be taught very well, which also dampens people’s enthusiasm about it since it’s not super replicable.

She’s still ridiculously powerful even with this somewhat problematic skill, though, and so she sees a lot of use in combat situations. Nyneave comes to Tuon’s attention when Nyneave’s sul’dam makes a judgement call & lets her bring one of Tuon’s favorite damane back from the brink of death after a combat injury. Tuon’s like ‘mine now’ and Nyneave joins the favorites squad.

Nyneave’s been with Tuon for ~6 years by the WH timeline. Once Ajimbura finds out where she is (since she’s higher-profile now that she’s with Tuon), he’s like ‘I must kill the Daughter of the Nine Moons’s father to avenge the loss of my son’ but her father is dead already (of ‘a bad wager’ in this timeline too) so he decides that as male captain of her bodyguard, Furyk Karede stands in loco parentis to Tuon, and therefore he must be killed.

After 3 failed revenge murder attempts, by the custom of his people, the debt rebounds upon Ajimbura and now he must become like Furyk Karede’s son and follow his trade.

This is the mechanism that Ajimbura’s people, distant descendants of the AoL Aiel, devised to stop blood feuds. If you try to revenge murder the same person three times & you can’t hack it, you have to join your enemy’s family instead and act in their interests. Most people don’t want to take that risk, or pick easier-to-kill enemies, so there’s a lot of trophy-hunting instead, kind of like how the Aiel have implemented complex prisoner of war rules so less people die.

So that’s why Ajimbura is Karede’s unhinged manservant in THIS universe. Still wish I knew why he’s there in canon!

Because I do not want Nyneave to suffer unduly, let’s say she comes with Tuon instead of Mylen (whose battlefield-medicine-descended-Healing is less impressive when compared to Nyneave’s Talent). Nyneave also represents Seanchan supremacy in a homegrown ‘we’re better than you’ way rather than a ‘we’ll brainwash you all’ way. Slightly different message, similar outcome.

She gets captured by our heroes at some point & basically has some of Alivia’s arc after that, but because she worked with Tuon and has insider info on her, she’s got more to do in Rand’s inner circle than just make people uncomfortable & lay out his outfit for the rest of his life. Actually, you know what, let’s full-circle this, the former Wisdom of Emond’s Field is Alivia Al’Meara & she’s the one who makes the call to uncollar Nyneave when she asks for it.

Also, Nyneave becomes friends with Aviendha because Avi meets her once and is like ‘forgive me but you’re the spitting image of my second-sister’s first-daughter’ (or whatever) and then they figure out that the Kaensada Hills tribes are also descended from AoL Aiel, and this connection becomes very important later on when the Kaensada Hills tribes strike out for independence in the aftermath of the entire Imperial family being murdered & the civil wars in mainland Seanchan.

[threestripeslider]

The peepaw multiverse is so funny to me because like, how did this happen? Why are they all together? Why is their immediate answer to everything to either band together to protect thier children using thier collective skills and battle strategies or just to simply Cain instinct the hell out of it? Most importantly, why do Leonardo and Leon constantly attempt to kill each other? What provokes them so much about each other than any of the others? I have so many questions and not enough answers

oh boy is it already time for a history lesson SKJDJKDHFKJ–

OKAY! let’s see if i get this right – disclaimer; i am pretty sure i got the whole thing rolling but i am obviously not the sole contributor or uhh idk. the CEO of the Peepaw Multiverse? whatever, i dont hold a monopoly over it KJDBKDHB.

so. obviously a bunch of F!Leo fics started popping up and everyone was just doing their own thing. as i wrote odd man out, i was partially inspired by MNMC – Mutant Ninja Midlife Crisis through which i met CJ. we get to talking and basically just kind of pick each other’s brains a lot when it came to our fics lmao so we started joking about the differences and similarities between Leonardo (OMO) and Leon (MNMC) to which i started making silly little doodles bc those two should actually never meet; they would make each other worse (or better), they are Worsties, they are Besties etc etc etc

anyway. i start posting these doodles just to be a little clown and ppl kind of picked up on it – artists who are fans of either or both fics started contributing to the fun. obviously not all iterations are super accurate, which is pretty fine since honestly? the Peepaw Multiverse is just a fun little separate thing as a kind of reprieve from the emotions the fics might give you LMAO yknow, just kind of a breather.

now, honestly, we have no idea why our Peepaws are the way they are together but idk what do you actually expect from a bunch of traumatized middle-aged men who are suddenly in charge of way too many kids and are now meeting several other version of themselves. in my mind, i think they all just loosen up a lot when it’s just them – without trying to put up a front for the kids, they just. idk. they all just become a lil unhinged i guess LMAO some just want their peace & quiet bc god knows if they can ever get it in a house full of teenagers at their height of puberty, some just want to hang out with guys who actually understand what’s bothering them. they could do group therapy or, yknow, make each other worse, idk you choose i guess, whichever is more entertaining RIP.

as to Leonardo and Leon specifically...in short; Leonardo is annoying with his Fake Smiley Bastard attitude doing the whole Conceal, Don’t Feel bit, so Leon just kind of tolerates him. unfortunately Leonardo kind of just never leaves and starts to grown on Leon like mold HJASDJHB all in all they have a very Cain Instinct-induced friendship in which Leon would sell Leonardo to Satan for one corn chip, but also if anyone other than him bullies Leonardo, Leon will kill you probably.

[felikatze]

I forgot did I ever ask for chrom facts? I remember asking for Roy and Marth facts. Anyways If I already have then tell me facts for a character of your choosing

This one is surprisingly more difficult as i've made so much unhinged Chrom content that i need to remember what is blatantly my five layers of headcanons and what isnt. uhm.

Chrom's base Falchion (legendary sword passed down for generations) has the same might as an iron sword. It's an unbreakable iron sword.

Despite Robin being the literal self insert, Chrom is the only character force-deployed on every map, and the only character with convoy access

Chrom (and male Robin) is the only dad in awakening to have a child associated with him. All other kids are associated with the mother instead.

Chrom is very clumsy. When he was a kid, he smashed a wall while training, and it never got fixed, so he and Lissa presumably covered the incident up by moving shrubbery over the hole.

This smashed wall is a legitimate plot point as it allows Lucina to inflitrate Ylisstol Castle and stop Chrom from being permanently wounded by an assassin

Speaking of Lucina, he really like. Post timeskip he's like, 25 MAX, and father of an Infant, so when a like, 18yr old girl shows up and says he's her dad. He's just like. Ok. My daughter now. Truly dad of the year. All his shortcomings as a father are External Circumstances he had no influence over ok

Literally all Chrom seasonal units are so mad to be seasonal units. Chrom hates wearing anything besides his stupid onesie. My respect tbh. I get it.

I'm a firm believer he has resting bitch face. The Autism Stare

I fear if i say more I'm going to get into deranged headcanon territory. I've written enough fanfic abt him tbh.

My fav thing abt his characterization is that he sees himself as a tool of violence yet deeply admires pacifism. It's like. He loves peace in theory. When its personified by his sister. But he just. doesn't know how to put it into practice.

This is especially notable in his first meeting with Gangrel, where Gangrel has a hostage and is demanding Emmeryn negotiate. And Chrom just immediately gets aggressive amd escalates the situation into a fight. Yeah sure he was being goaded, but the guy has a surprisingly short temper!

It's a very inch resting dualism and I am a total sucker for everytime fanworks do more with that than the game does. Bcuz most FE protags. Love peace obviously. But they see violence as the means to the end, they still see themselves as holier than thou, whereas Chrom really doesn't. Death is death. Gives him flavor.

It's blatantly obvious in his behavior and skills that he was NOT meant to be the leader. Most FE protags had their parents die to become king, but he had his SISTER die. He would've been behind any of HER heirs (if she had any) in the line of succession and probably only ran a militia because he never expected to be king at all. He can't negotiate for shit on a political level, only convince people on a personal one. He's very blunt and honest (...autism swag...), and not cut out for intrigue, as well as easily manipulated.

For real he would he fucked without Robin.

Can you tell I love him and think about him a normal amount. Chrom my wife

[morgana-ren]

Honestly, Lore Mom, I am curious about what sort of people Bhaal attracts. Like it seems his worshippers would be pretty limited to either his own spawn or the few people who become addicted to killing. Maybe it's different in a high fantasy setting but my understanding is most murderers don't kill for the fun of it, they do it to achieve an end (like Banites). I'm curious if Bhaal has an issue with maintaining followers. [Also sorry I can't write a short ask to save my life]

Well, people associated with death, for starters.

Assassins, common street killers, ritualized murderers, anybody who might benefit from a patron that encourages such behavior. His ultimate domain is slaughter, blood, and death, so people operating where that is their wheelhouse are far more likely to turn to Bhaal than any other lord. Especially in the situation that there isn't much else regarding an ulterior motive, and it's the pure, undiluted love of the slaughter that drives them.

The kill is the point.

Banites kill because they are chasing a goal. They do the things they do not as the ultimate point of their actions, but to meet those ultimate points. For Bhaalists, the murder is the point, if that makes sense.

You'll obviously get people who aren't 'right' in the head (like Dolor-- which means pain by the way lmao) but you'll also get more cold, calculated killers that have some kind of life that revolves around the cycle of death and ending life itself.

That's why it's referred more to as a cult than an actual religion. Bhaals cultists are tools to meet his ends. It doesn't really revolve around points and end goals like power or dominion or whatever else have you most of the time. It's slaughter. Don't get me wrong, obviously in BG3, there is very much an end goal (which... is the literal death of everyone in the world a la 'the world ending in blood') but again, the death is the point. Blood. Murder. Death. Slaughter. Rinse (or don't) and repeat. He is capable of forming plans, but those plans always revolve around death death death.

Bhaal's chosen is a bit unhinged. Uncontrolled, unhinged murder. Having to fight for control and her need to destroy kill destroy at every fucking turn. Sometimes, they're a bit smarter and more patient (like Sarevok) but again, they're just holding off temporarily to meet their ultimate end, which still revolves death and blood and sacrifice.

The thing about Bhaal is that there are always going to be people who turn to him. People who want to kill for one reason or another. People whose lives revolve around death and blood. People who are just angry and hateful and want to see the world suffer. Weak people hoping for favor from the strong and willing to kill to do it (people too weak to serve a God like Bane of their own initiative or skill.) Every time one dies, a new one is born somewhere, and will inevitably make their way there, same as every other evil God.

I'm sure that his follower count wanes and waxes depending on the times. During more troubled epochs, it might inspire more violence and a sort of comfort in a God who has dominion over violent death. During more peaceful times, you'll get rabblerousers who are always looking to upset the balance.

Truthfully, it really just depends. I'm sure it reaches lows and highs depending, but since you cannot kill an idea, and Bhaal has a form of control over an idea (blood and death) you would have trouble killing it off entirely, and even if you managed, it would create a power vacuum and something else would step in to fill that role-- much like Bhaal himself did.

He is technically a quasi-deity as of right now, same as the others. Thanks to some crazy bullshit that happened, they are all not technically Gods in the same way that they once were, though they are damn sure trying to crawl their way back into it. Still, as you can see, that isn't exactly stopping them.

Bhaal will keep acting like an edgy shithead, and there are always edgy shitheads attracted to that. Not to talk shit on him, I love the idea of him, but he is absolutely the edgiest shithead of the edgy shithead three.

[fruit-sy]

jjk s1 and s2 spoilers

caught up to the jjk anime this week and damn, hits hard

Animation is stellar, the characters are really fun, there's themes that really hit me hard and godamn the ending of jjk 0 actually made me cry, like tears were shed. I understood why my brother loved the movie lmao

but rn there's one man on my mind. Gojo fucking satoru

Gojo Satoru is just, wow, what hasn't been said about him? He's certainly a showstopper alright, I know Itadori's the protagonist but my eyes were on Gojo the entire time, season 2 personally was even more exciting with that in mind.

I haven't really had the time to do a deep dive on him, but I do have some thoughts... First, yeah he's hot asf I'll give him that (those eyes of his are on my mind and they won't leave me alone, also props to the english dub for the absolutely feral lines)

but the progression of him as a person is also really fun to see. I'm especially interested in him maturing from this arrogant and individualistic person at the beginning of season 2 to... well, still being that but also becoming a mentor to other people.

Like, that's such a huge step for me because contrary to what his pride tells him, he's come to realize he can't do it alone (I mean, he can at the moment but it's more realistic to try and personally raise these youth with potential so that they may bring about a powerful new generation)

The line about education really hit me and I kept thinking about it these last couple of days. He wants to bring change, but if he's the only one humanity has to rely on, he'll run himself ragged. And so, he takes the time and patience to grow these little seedlings, watch them get more powerful but also watch as they may fail along the journey. Even though he's become a teacher, he's not soft on them at all. It's a fact that if they're unable to keep up with him, they will get left behind. Whether that be in skill, or death.

Other than to raise more powerful sorcerers, I can't help but feel this also comes from a place of loneliness, because Geto left him.

I wonder, how much it will hurt to see his students fall? Because although they are improving at a fast rate, can they really keep up with The Gojo Satoru? Or will they against all odds, with his full support, be able to carry on when he's gone? Despite the uncertainty, he continues to teach.

Though the goal is daunting, seeing him wake up to his students and smiling brought such a warm feeling to my chest, it was so sweet.

Also love how unhinged he can get, like characters who do the manic smile thing never ceases to make me giggle excitedly (Nobara and Fushiguro also knocked it out of the park in that aspect, extremely hyped when they went completely off the hinge and kicked ass).

However, there's one scene that absolutely left me in awe. A beautiful mixture of music and imagery that sent shivers up my body every time I watch it. A scene in which he's shown being a mixture of unhinged, yet so at "peace". The juxtaposition is absolutely beautiful to see.

Fighting against toji, where he was high off his epiphany, he had an inner monologue so quiet, so relaxed and detached from how he usually is, coupled with the same piano tune that accompanied the scenes with him, Riko and Geto in the background. My breath was taken away, my eyes were glued to the screen in awe as the music crescendo-ed, and I couldn't help but think "he's beautiful" splattered in blood, bathed in sunlight and eyes glowing with the most vibrant blue.

After the dust had settled, the three of them lost something that day. Riko lost her life, Gojo started to lose his best friend, and Geto started to lose his moral compass and ideals.

The piano music was called "一緒なら" or "If I am with you/together". I wonder why? Perhaps the first time, it was from Riko's POV, as she, Gojo, Geto and Kuroi were sightseeing for the very last time.

The second time, although Gojo seemed detached from Riko's death, perhaps he genuinely cared for her, so much that he'd mourn in his own way.

The arc started with Gojo carrying Riko in his arms

The arc ended with Gojo holding Riko's dead body as the crowd celebrated her death.

He started to lose it, even asking Geto if he should kill all of them. Funny how the tables have turned.

[anruraiocht]

Abatina and carnation

botanical headcanons (no longer accepting)

abatina :   is there anything in life your muse has changed their mind about over time   ( due to becoming more educated on the topic ,   certain experiences  ,   etc .) , or that they   would   change their mind about under certain circumstances ?

ABATINA: THE EVER LOOMING SHADOW OF LEIF FARIS CLAUS

Smiles thinly.

Look. Look. I'm sorry for the feminism loss as well, but it is so hard to talk about Miranda without talking about Leif. Ten years of projecting all of your issues on a guy will do that to you.

When we first meet Miranda, she seems entirely adamant that she blames Leif for everything that has happened to her. The little blame game she tries to play is extremely emotionally driven (literally what was Leif, age 2, supposed to do girl) and falls apart under scrutiny.

like ok. let's walk through this for a second.

"it's leif's fault" > finn is the one who brought him there > finn only brought him because leonster fell > leonster fell because thracia attacked and ulster didn't step in until the end > (dominoes) (THE ENTIRE HISTORY OF NORTHERN THRACIA VS SOUTHERN THRACIA THAT BROUGHT US TO US POINT)

So. Obviously through the events of FE5 and experiencing the war firsthand, Miranda's opinion on Leif changes. She already knows, deep down, that it isn't actually Leif's fault, but it isn't until she is forced to contend with the reality of the situation that she is able to admit it.

carnation :   what is your muse’s relationship with their gender ? how do they express or not express this relationship ?

CARNATION: JUGDRALI MISOGYNY HITS DIFFERENT

(it gets long here)

Okay so let's get one thing straight: if Miranda was a man, she would be dead. Full stop. When you're taking over a kingdom, the last thing you want is to leave a male heir alive. A male heir, left alive, can eventually take back their kingdom and become king, but a female heir cannot. She, however, can be used as a hostage. And she is! For ~ten years! Before we even learn her name, Miranda's agency is stolen from her.

The moment Miranda gets agency (and her kingdom) back, her advisors tell her that she needs to marry Leif to tie Ulster to Leonster. It's no secret that the Munster District is doing. Uh. Bad. As in, Miranda and Leif are the only heirs left alive by the end of Thracia 776. It makes sense, strategically, to have the only two heirs left alive get married and merge their kingdoms and both of them understand this. Doesn't mean they have to like it, though!

Leif: "...And Ulster was successfully liberated by Lord Seliph, so the people should be happy that their princess was safe.”

Miranda: “Well, yes, but… The people want more than that. My advisors are urging me to marry you so that we can unite with Leonster. They think they can just tell me what to do because I’m a girl…” Leif: “Well, you and I are the only heirs that survived this turmoil. What your advisors are saying only makes sense. But I’m not sure…”

We're not gonna get into Leif's little unhinged moment that happens right after this btw. The important part here is that Miranda is frustrated. Obviously. Miranda has been living in the basement of a Loptr monastery for a year and it's not enough that she made it back alive. Well, yes, your highness, it's all well and good that you survived, but there's not much you can do for us as a princess... would you mind getting married? As soon as possible? To the guy you've projected all of your problems and issues on for the last decade? Thanks!

Jesus fucking Christ!!!!!!!!

When they pulled this line for one of Miranda's skill activation quotes in FEH (albeit shortened from 女だと思ってバカにしてるわ to 女だと思って…！), it has been translated as:

I am a girl, not a fool!

Which I think is very evocative of the way Miranda thinks of herself. She does not resent existing as a girl, but she does resent the way she is looked down upon for being a girl.

And while we're on the topic of how Miranda talks (the most inelegant segue in the world)...!

It's not as noticeable in English, nor is it especially noticeable when you first meet her and she's hissing and spitting at Leif, but Miranda uses feminine speech (女性語) when she speaks! This is a style of speaking in Japanese that is considered "ladylike" and formal, using more polite terms. Traditionally speaking, it's a style of speech associated with upper class ladies.

This is more noticeable in her Conomor recruitment dialogue...

コノモール もうおやめなさい！ ... それなのに あなたは何をしているの！

As well as her conversation with Leif in the last chapter...

リーフ王子 少しいいかしら ... 私・・・ あなたに謝らなければ ならないことがあるわ

I've bolded the relevant parts here. Miranda affixes the polite o- prefix to yamenasai and ends some of her sentences with the more traditionally feminine ending particles of no, wa, and kashira.

It's... a little hard to explain in English but the way she speaks is very princess-like haha.

There is also the Genderisms of Miranda's promoted class: Mage Knight. In FE4, Mage Knight is a male only class (as a promotion for Azelle and Arthur + enemy units). In FE5, we get our first female Mage Knights through Olwen and Miranda, but the rest of the Mage Knights in the game are male. We can say that Olwen is following in her brother Reinhardt's footsteps, but Miranda doesn't have that same connection. Would she be better served as a sage, considering her 70% magic growth and fucking 5% strength growth? Absolutely! However, she saw that sages get staff access and said oh no thank you. i'm here to kill and maim.

And she deserves it.

That last part isn't exactly related to genderisms (or is it? Every other girl capable of wielding magic in FE5 besides Miranda and Olwen gets staff access... :thonking: ) I just think it's very funny characterization through gameplay. her ass is NOT healing.

tl;dr: Miranda is a character that is defined by her status as a princess and as a girl.

[momo-t-daye]

Hi!! For the ask game (if you're doing it) what about 1, 6, 23 and 26? :D

Snape for the character ask game I assume!

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

Severus Snape is such an asshole and I think he’s hilarious—

Really the range between his revealed heroic virtues and his observable petty vices/actions makes him so interesting to me when he’s on the page; he isn’t a nice person, he’s mean and tries to get into verbal sparring matches with children (…and he can and will lose that fight even if he scores more points overall (even if only because he got himself into that fight in the first place)…) but he does the right thing (in the shadows) and plays a vital role in the triumph of the narrative good over evil, he was the catalyst for the events that led to Harry Potter becoming “The Boy Who Lived” and the protagonist of the narrative, he fucked up and, while people may quibble over whether he was redeemed or not, he dedicated himself to atoning (redemption and atonement aren’t quite the same, are they?). He’s talented and brilliant and competent and powerful and skilled etc. etc. but he’s not “Cool TM”, and I love that (…if a character is not at least partially responsible for their own disasters and a little bit unhinged then what is the point of seeing what they’ll do next?)

6. What's something you have in common with this character?

Um… maybe not a great deal? I suppose I was bullied a bit as a kid for being an intense weirdo with a dramatic flair (…I mean, I still am very much am…) but I was usually able to walk/wander away and I liked walking more than waiting for a bus and no one was that invested in making me suffer and I had a sufficient support network, so, yeah, I was lucky and don’t really have much in common with Severus Snape.

23. Favorite picture of this character?

This is a very tough question!  There are so many excellent Snape-artists and pictures…

I am going to make this easier on myself and say that my favorite picture(s) of Severus Snape that I have personally drawn is the three panel sequence in “It’s not easy being green” when Sirius and James make him realize the flaw in his plan to photosynthesize rather than waste time eating food— I’m still very happy with how those expressions turned out.

26. FREEBIE QUESTION!!

What is the Freebie question?  Um… how about a random headcanon?

Severus Snape knows all sorts of fun facts about different parasites and at least one of his jars is full of specimens of fish with Cymothoa exigua, and he has a box of arthropod victims of assorted parasitic fungi; he speaks wistfully of wanting a tank of Candiru for study purposes and either proving or disproving the semi-legendary traits of that little fish.  This has not made him a popular dining companion (and he knows it)

[ooc-miqojak]

It's actually incredibly nice to interact with someone who is capable of having a challenging talk when there's a miscommunication, or crossed wires, or hurt feelings. And especially since recently...I've had to deal with some real beyond-belief human beings who went out of their way to privately message me with presumptuous statements and incredibly below-the-belt insults... instead of just trying to talk like adults, and understand what was actually going on in the situations they were making assumptions about.

Imagine you're enjoying your morning - watching birds, playing with your cats, shopping for a beginner's embroidery kit because you want to learn a new skill and be creative, and you're enjoying the first real sunshine in about 9 months...you're delighted that your seasonal depression might be lifting at last! And two complete strangers start making assumptions about you, and saying the world's most cruel, and unhinged shit in your DMs, and you have no idea who one of them even is! One of them tries to claim 'you just hate everything' because you confided in said person that they said something that was frustrating and hurtful to you - but enjoying your day, and everything about it except the condescending remark they made... means 'you hate everything,' apparently. Now imagine the refreshing delight of, a day later, someone else you barely know coming to you in your DMs... in good faith to clear the air about a misunderstanding! You're allowed to see where they were coming from, and you're allowed to explain your POV and why you did what you did, and there's a chance for understanding, growth, and kindness! There's no one I respect more than a person capable of having those kinds of difficult/challenging discussions, because they're the hard ones. It's a lot easier to point the finger, and assume one side of a discussion or argument is correct... that one is 'good/right,' and one is 'evil/wrong' - but that's not life. There's two sides to every story, and the only way for us to grow as people is to discuss what happened, and learn from it. I'm glad I got to see this person's POV, and I'm glad I got to apologize for assuming they were doing something hurtful at the time. I couldn't have known where they were coming from, if they didn't explain it to me, though! And similarly, they may have thought I was acting out of malice, if I'd never gotten to speak on how I viewed things on my end!

I love it when people are mature enough to sit through a challenging talk, and understand the other person - it takes courage, and it takes maturity. And my ND means that I appreciate people being very direct and honest - and so I am, as well. (I actually really struggle to lie about anything...ever. It's like a physical discomfort. And deeply, deeply upsetting if I'm the one lied to, or about.) Some people are intimidated by that, I guess, but you can't understand the other person, nor what went wrong... if you aren't direct and honest! PLUS...there's always the chance that you become BETTER friends after a hard talk, because it gives you insight and understanding of one another that you lacked before! Difficult talks don't have to be a bad thing just because they're challenging, or intimidating to go into.

[shegoesbyjoy]

i've been thinking a lot about why Disco Elysium in particular has touched the core of my being in a way no other piece of media has and i think there are several factors at play here. this is half a review and half me dumping my various thoughts on this game ever since i finished it a couple months ago.

AS A VIDEO GAME ITSELF—i've been trying to identify what exactly it is about certain games that causes them to rise above all the rest that i've played, and i have come to the realization that in all of them, combat is usually one of the least consequential things on that list. i love Hades, have dumped 160+ hrs into it, but despite it being a very combat-heavy game with extremely tight controls that i do find truly satisfying, that is not what kept me playing. it's the characters, the art, the story, the world-building, the music...

similarly, while the combat in Horizon Zero Dawn is really quite fun, what really charmed me about it was its spunky, badass protagonist and fascinating mechanical creature designs, in addition to the story set in a world that captivated me from beginning to end. Night in the Woods took my breath away with its emotional & poignant writing told through a unique & delightful art style. i didn't even finish The Last of Us, but Ellie's moment with the giraffes is ingrained in my brain—and of course i went ahead and watched someone else play through to the end so i could enjoy the rest of the story without having to slog through zombie fights myself. so while i always appreciate well-executed combat in games (and have given up on games that do it too poorly), it's never what keeps my interest.

SO. what happens when you take combat out of a game entirely, and absolutely excel at everything else? you see where this is going.

THE CHOICE OF MEDIUM—the fact that DE's story was told through a video game (as opposed to a book, a show, a movie, etc.) is absolutely crucial, because of your active role in the consumption of said story. i think that's what gives some of its scenes such devastating emotional impact. watching this train wreck of a character that you happen to be playing blurt out the most unhinged responses despite your best attempt to salvage the situation, coming to terms with the awful reality of what's in front of you at the same time Harry does, seeing the immediate results of your choices as well as slowly realizing how your choices affect the story long-term as the pieces start coming together... all of this creates an immersive experience that is unparalleled. the game doesn't take self-insert so seriously that the protagonist ~can be anyone~ (Harry's characterization is, in fact, very strong and well-established) but there's absolutely no way a Disco Elysium book or show would have the same impact as me having to progress the story by fucking around and finding out.

GAME SPOILERS AHEAD—combining these two aspects of DE helps to explain what made the tribunal the MOST TENSE i've ever felt playing a video game. this is essentially as close to combat as you'll get in this game. you've just spent the last 20-30 hours becoming very familiar with the mechanics of the game with regards to the dice rolls. you become accustomed to the fact that most skill checks are white so you can come back to them, and that red checks are comparatively rare. enter the tribunal: suddenly you have several very high stakes red checks in a row. you can't leave. you can't try an individual check again if you fail. the story itself has been alluding to this very moment throughout the game. people are DYING, and the lives of those that remain, including your own, are on the line. your earlier decisions have come to a head.

it was 3 am when i got to this point in the game, and the reality of the situation i found myself in shook off every bit of sleepiness i'd been feeling up to this point—my eyes were wide open and my heart was pounding.

i know many people who play video games derive a lot of satisfaction from perfecting mechanics, learning patterns, or deducing the weaknesses of a difficult boss. for me, this satisfaction gets dwarfed by the frustration of having to spend far too long dealing with it in the first place. triggering a boss battle oddly takes me out of the story, because it feels like a very marked switch from "being the protagonist in the game's world" to "sitting on my couch playing a Video Game", where the same repetitive action of "killing the enemy" becomes my goal, no matter what the game is.

by contrast, the tribunal was very much a continuation of the story with each skill check having immediate results on how that story plays out. no other moment in the game was quite like it, and i had no idea how this sequence of events was going to go, so every action felt extremely fraught. i was on the edge of my seat in a way no other game has gotten me to feel, because the weight of this encounter felt monumental in DE. and of course, this is where you come across an iconic skill check where you find out exactly how much your previous choices matter...

i was so damn nervous during this check i probably would've cried if i failed it lmao

FUCK YOUR EXPECTATIONS—this leads me to the other thing that's got me smitten with this game: the subversion of expectations. dialogue options are never written so transparently as to have a "correct" answer, and trying to stay neutral with my answers got me a well-deserved smack in the head in the form of a brutal burn about the dangers of centrism. we have 3-dimensional characters that make you growl in frustration one moment and your heart swell in the next, descriptions that make you marvel at both the beauty and ugliness of humanity, situations where you feel crushed by sadness and dread then want to cry tears of happiness because despite all of it, there is still magic left in the world. it's also so goddamn funny. this game is fucking hilarious—and what is comedy, what is a punch line but the subversion of an audience's expectations established during the setup?

Disco Elysium is a game that far exceeds the sum of its parts. it excels in its storytelling, its voice acting brings incredible life to said phenomenal writing, its gorgeous painterly art style is visually compelling, its music is flawlessly incorporated to full effect, it's intellectually stimulating and fascinating philosophically, and as a murder mystery (oh yeah that's what this game's premise is, right?) it's just plain fun to reveal clue after clue while pondering theories as to what the heck is going on. these individual components come together to create a multi-dimensional piece of media that's deeply human, yet fantastical and absurd. it's uncomfortably relatable while inspiring empathy for even the most unfamiliar of experiences.

for instance, i have no personal experience with alcoholism or addiction, but boy do i sure know what it's like to have a compulsion to apologize at every opportunity for simply existing—to want to cease existing, period. i don't know what it's like to grow up and live in a post-soviet country yet the experience in-game felt as vivid as ever, inextricable from the story's identity. i felt a pang of pained recognition in Kim's complicated relationship with his race as diaspora, and found myself wishing i had the ability to respond even half as effectively as he did with the Racist Lorry Driver during my own past run-ins with racist assholes. this game has caused me to think more deeply about my own politics, my relationships, the world around me, the power of art, the role of capitalism, beauty, hope... even what it means to be alive.

A CHANGED PERSON—a realization i came to a while ago while talking to a friend was that almost all of the media i had enjoyed up to that point shared a theme of escapism in one way or another. there have been many moments in my life where i wished to be somewhere else. to be someone else. i immersed myself in stories where the fantasy of it seemed so much better than the reality of my own life. this game forced me to reckon with where i am, who i am. and not only that, it encouraged me to be accepting and loving of the here and now, despite every single flaw i seemed to be obsessed with pointing out. it made it abundantly clear that constantly running away was not a viable way of living, and that flaws were not a reason to give up. "something beautiful is going to happen"—i should very damn well let it.

it's not an exaggeration to say this game has changed me irrevocably, and the fact that this impossible piece of art even exists in this world feels like a miracle. i'm so grateful that i got to experience it.

[rodolfoparras]

Nah it's ok, I just have crippling addiction to twinks and I'm weak for pretty boys who look like elven and angelic. I swear... a pretty thing bats his eyes at me and I'm fucking goner. ANYWAYS-

Acheron is old D&D character that went through quite a bit of development and he will always be one of my favourite characters I ever created hence why I made him into my Tav. He was originally female character for a brief while just because drow society is matriarchal and I intended for him to start out as royalty and threat to his aunt's power. Buuuut I quickly decided that I want him to be man after all so he's canonically trans now.

I don't want to prattle on about drow history and politics even though I could but essentially men are seen as slaves and toys and have no worth in the society and drows are notorious for turning on each other and killing one other constantly. Acheron's older brother wasn't like that at all and he was super sweet and him and Acheron were very close. Acheron was child prodigy and quickly gained favour of their matriarch and head priestesses and became champion of Lolth and his entire goal was to become head matriarch so he could build better life for his brother. That's also the reason why he repressed his real self and only his brother knew that he was trans.

Acheron was noticed and chosen by Raven Queen who sensed his grief and sorrow even while he as young child and she became mother figure to him while he secretly prayed to her. He got infused with shadow magic through the sword she sent down to him and she became his patron goddess. When he was still young man, his aunt (fearing his influence and the influence of his mother), slaughtered his entire family and Acheron only survived because his brother manage to hide him and his goddess kept him safe. That event broke something in him that was never able to be repaired.

Acheron fought his way out of Underdark and escaped to surface where he saved by young druid who would become his best friend (who is actually my bestie's D&D character). He only had locket with his brother's picture, lock of his hair and his ring to remember his brother by and he treasures it deeply. Also since hexblades (weapon he received) are kind of semi sentient and can talk to their wielders, Acheron believes his brother's soul is in the blade and he talks to it regularly.

He completely buried his old life, transitioned and made a name for himself, eventually being known as The Scourge of Underdark and he and very chaotic but mostly decent person. He had quite a few other tragic things happen to him that kind of shaped him into being cold and ruthless and no-nonsense person. And side note but he actually has genuinely good relationship with his patron and she does genuinely love him as sees him as her son.

Every other companion in bg3 has horrible and abusive relationship with their goddesses and Acheron is there all like 😶😶 "Mmm skill issue ig, imma go tell mom about my day and ask for new spells"

And his story fits so well with bg3 story and I even headcanon Minthara, female drow that can become your companion, as his cousin and her mother to be the aunt that slaughtered his family. And Astarion is like.... second person Acheron had genuinely romantic feelings for ever probably and his companions are one of few people he grew to care about. And Acheron is very much ready to do whatever it takes for his friends and especially for Astarion.

He doesn't care about power or influence or anything, he just wants to keep Astarion safe because he can't risk losing the most important person in his life again. That's why I hc that after the events of the game he goes back to Underdark and kills his aunt and everyone loyal to her and he makes it clear that unless he and his loved ones are left alone, he will not hesitate to wipe them all out. He's a little unhinged but ordinary people know him as a hero, albeit very scary one.

-🔮

Sugar!!! I am genuinely amazed how in depth this is it felt like I was watching a movie reading this!!’ First of all I’ll always be a sucker for good healthy sibling relationship and the fact that their bond still remains in some ways is why I’m not sad despite everything tragic that happened to him also Im so glad he has a best friend by his side to love and support him because it can’t be easy having gone through all that trauma and continue life on your own also astarion being all starry eyed over him, to him it’s like seeing a sweet puppy flash its teeth but he absolutely loves it feels himself get all warm and light 🥹 this is genuinely a beautiful story and I’m throughly impressed with how thought out every step is

[dreamlandforever]

The Devil You Know

(Sterek | Teen and Up | 13k)

AO3 link

I wrote my first Sterek for the "'What‘s a Stiles?" Sterek April event, based on the Prompt "Unhinged Stiles" and "Derek gets kidnapped", I hope you like it!

Summary:

“When was the last time you spoke to Derek?”

He was not expecting that question.

When was the last time he spoke to Derek? They spoke every day. They have spoken every day for six years. Sometimes Stiles calls, sometimes Derek does. But it happens daily, even if it is only for a few minutes.

But the thing is, Stiles doesn’t know what day it is. This case has been the entirety of his focus lately.

“What day is today?”

She doesn’t hesitate, too used to Stiles being…Stiles. “Tuesday”.

Fuck. Stiles missed work.

Wait. If it was Tuesday…

“Lydia.” He speaks as calmly and clearly as he is able to, which is not much. “Where. Is. Derek?.”

1

Tuesday.

There are a lot of things that Stiles prides himself in. Granted, most of them are illegal and kind of frown upon by the FBI, but he still knew how to get the job done. Research is one of them, and, fortunately for him, is also a skill very much appreciated by the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Especially because they didn’t know what Stiles’ preferred methods were, exactly.

The red yarn strewn all over his shoe-box apartment seems to belong to another lifetime. The only thing keeping him kind of in the present is the whiteboard he got for cheap on eBay, which also happens to double as the divider between his kitchenette and living room. FBI Stiles did not have to cover his walls in tacks, no, sir. FBI Stiles had a slightly better set up. Also, his landlord is not very fond of holes in the wall. Stiles may or may not have a little issue trying to hang a picture a few weeks after he moved in.

If he took a deep breath, he could really see himself transported back to his room in Beacon Hills. The coffee he was brewing was the same brand he had always used, the feel of the yarn was all too familiar to his hands, the pain on his lower back and the headache caused by sleep deprivation felt just like home. He wasn’t sure when was the last time he slept, but he knew he wouldn’t like the answer. From the state of the table and the marks on his cheek, he had fallen asleep at some point, so good for him. He let himself be transported back to his room, when he himself was a kid, and had to fight the Big Bad of the week, and not an FBI man who had to stop a fucking human from killing children, on top of thinking of the next Big Bad.

Which is why, it took a while for Stiles to realize that the buzzing wasn’t in his head, and he wasn’t just hallucinating it. He looked around his kitchen table, slowly blinking himself into reality. He can’t even tell how long he has been working, but it has been long enough for his blinking to actually hurt, and the pounding of his head has become more constant. With a sigh he finally finds his phone under a bunch of folders he isn’t sure he was even allowed to bring home.

Without even looking at the caller, he answers as fast as he can before the call can go to voicemail. “Hey, Der. I was just about to have dinner, don’t worry. Did you manage to fix that leaking sink? I cannot sleep with that thing, dude, and I am less than a week away from visiting.” He crosses his fingers, hoping he did not miss calls before. Derek does not enjoy when Stiles doesn’t answer his phone.

He is met with only silence. He flinches slightly.

“Breakfast? Was I about to have breakfast?” So maybe he did miss a few calls. And a lot more hours than he originally thought.

“Stiles, I am not Derek.” Lydia’s voice. She is calm and collected. And Lydia is one of Stiles’ comfort people, as well as one of his other regular calls, so he knows that voice.

“What happened?” He never quite mastered Lydia’s ability to remain in control. His voice sounded panicked even to his own ears. He stands up, no longer able to remain on the call while sitting down. His apartment is much too small to really walk away his nerves, but walking in circles will have to do. Was Derek in trouble?

“When was the last time you spoke to Derek?”

He was not expecting that question.

When was the last time he spoke to Derek? They spoke every day. They have spoken every day for six years. Sometimes Stiles calls, sometimes Derek does. But it happens daily, even if it is only for a few minutes.

But the thing is, Stiles doesn’t know what day it is. This case has been the entirety of his focus lately.

“What day is today?”

She doesn’t hesitate, too used to Stiles being…Stiles. “Tuesday”.

Fuck. Stiles missed work.

Wait. If it was Tuesday…

“Lydia.” He speaks as calmly and clearly as he is able to, which is not much. “Where. Is. Derek?.”

“When was the last time you spoke to him?” She asked again, the stress finally showing on her voice.

“Saturday.” His voice came out so soft he wasn’t sure she had even heard him.

He hadn’t spoken to Derek in almost three days. They speak daily. He knows what she is going to say before the words leave her mouth.

“Stiles, Derek is missing.”

The words still feel like lead at the bottom of his stomach. The headache is rapidly turning into a migraine, and it is becoming harder for him to focus.

Derek. His Derek. Gone.

“Since when?” He knows his voice is shaky, but he can’t stop it.

Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone.

There is a pause on the other side of the line, but Stiles doesn’t even notice. His head is going a mile a minute, and he cannot focus enough to comprehend simple facts, such as the passage of time. His entire body seems to have gone into panic mode, in a way it hasn’t for years. He is a man now, he is control of himself.

All bets are off the window when whatever is happening involves Derek, apparently.

“Sunday.”

He could hear ringing in his ears. He wasn’t sure if it was his mind dissociating or if his heart was beating so hard it was deafening. Either way, he didn’t have time for that, so he ignored it.

He knows today is Tuesday.

Derek went missing on Sunday.

And Stiles didn’t notice.

“Why hasn’t anyone called?” But as soon as the questions leaves his mouth, he knows the answer. Suddenly, he needs to hear it. He needs confirmation. Anger is so much easier to control than panic. Stiles wants to be angry. He wants to break something, he wants to take a swing of someone. And he knows just who.

“He said he would handle it. He benched all of us. And Derek usually keeps to himself, but Stiles it has been two days. He isn’t telling us anything.”

Stiles sees red.

[riemmetric]

The fear, the idea and the lack of patience

I've been thinking lately about a story I want to write and don't know how.

In 2023 I've attended five international conferences. Much like every piece of media I consume, every single thing I personally experience inspires me to construct a story based on it and every single face I see inspires me to fashion a character based on it. Sometime in June, while listening to Nick Cave on the way back from the mountains of Switzerland, my mind started spinning the tale of a handful of mathematicians. In its most accomplished form, this would a be a 500 pages novel, following a cast of characters throughout a decade of their lives, as they meet every once in a while at a conference and become part of of each other's histories. The worst case scenario is that I never write it.

Here are the problems I was instantly faced with:

I am a mathematician who goes to conferences and meets people every once in a while. I have constructed a cast of characters for this story and I have been very careful to make sure none of them were directly based on anybody I know in real life, including myself, but I'm afraid that if I ever release this story to the public, the public won't be able to stop themselves from finding the connections between it and my personal life.

One of the reasons I gave The Secret History by Dona Tartt 3 stars when I read it last March, was the fact that for a dark academia novel it featured surprisingly little scenes in a genuine academic setting. The main conflict of the book revolves around the class differences between the characters and their various romantic entanglements, there were not enough academic discussions for my tastes. The university was nothing more than a backdrop for the characters to be unhinged against. I want my story to focus heavily on the maths, because without it it's just a soap opera, but the job of research mathematicians is to publish new maths. I'm doing my small part in that world, as a phd student, but it's impossible for me to describe in detail maths that a researcher might study in the future and be correct about it. Unreal. And i'm not sure how ethical/legal it would be for me to browse arxiv/mathematical journals and pull research from there. Arxiv is a great resource, but those articles are not peer-reviewed and I don't know how people feel about their work being used in fiction. I have access to research journal through my university, but if something is paywalled, isn't taking it and pretending my made-up people have written it a form of copyright infringement? Much to think about.

Despite all this, I have a few scenes drafted in my head and I have metaphorically penciled some characters to fit the story. I was thinking about writing these things down in the most informal way possible, ie as short stories posted on this tumblr blog. It would be a good way for me to stay creative, exercise my hobby and grow my skill. I have a fantasy of putting little effort in the chronology of these scenes and people falling in love with the characters anyway. We'll see. If I chicken out and don't start this project this month, I'll delete this post and pretend it never existed.