#I must fix this because I'm not sure I could find it otherwise

[dabblersofnonsense]

A piece I did a while back of our dear RR princess and GEmerald host, Nia. I have so many stories I need to get back to </3

Kofi

[twilightcitysky]

Everything Is Meant (long S2 analysis, part 1)

I cannot figure out for the life of me how to make gifs so this will have to be a gif-less essay. If anyone more tech savvy than me wants to reblog with relevant media, please do!

I've seen a lot of people saying how Aziraphale's actions in the final ten minutes come out of left field and are OOC, and when I first watched the episode I felt the same, but now I think I couldn't have been more wrong. And I don't think Aziraphale is being controlled... I think the entire season showed us exactly what was going to happen.

On first watch, what struck me was the number of plot points that seemed disconnected. I couldn't figure out how Job related to the present, or the Victorian era, or the Nazi zombies (still at sea on the zombies part tbh). I didn't know where the Maggie/ Nina subplot was going, or why we were bothering with it. Then I put my "psych hat" on and it was like seeing one of those 3D pictures come into focus. It's a psychological networking rather than a plot-driven one, which is what Neil told us to expect.

Detailed analysis under the cut, with spoilers:

I went back through the season in my head and started asking myself: why is this element there? What does it contribute?

1. Start with scene one. Why include it? Does it matter for the climax that Az knew Crowley as an angel? YES. It's actually huge. Angel Crowley was joyful, he was bursting with delight at creation, he was idealistic. He wanted to be a part of everything rather than run away from it, and that's still how Aziraphale feels. He loves being a part of things. He's a joiner. He's a landlord. He dances at clubs and he makes human friends and he learns magic. Crowley the demon doesn't seem to want any of that, and I think that's hard for Az. He wants Crowley to be free of the cynicism he thinks prevents him from enjoying life now. At some level, I think he senses that Crowley is depressed (empathy's not his strong suit but I'm sure he's aware that Crowley's in a "what's the point of it all" kind of mood; see the eccles cakes scene). He wants to fix it. Aziraphale is a fixer. Metatron offers him a chance to do that.

Another thing is that Aziraphale knows Crowley ended up Falling just for asking questions that seemed innocent. That's not okay with him. He thinks that with the two of them in charge they can actually MAKE the changes that Crowley wanted to see way back at the beginning, starting with a suggestion box.

2. Okay, now Jim. Obviously Gabriel/ Jim is the central mystery, but why does he matter? First and foremost: he's there to show Aziraphale that angels can CHANGE. Gabriel terrorized and threatened Aziraphale. Az has been terrified of him. He ordered Aziraphale's execution. And now here he is, drinking hot chocolate, doing noble self-sacrificing things, with morals that suddenly align with Aziraphale's. What an absolute game-changer that must have been! He thought Heaven was unfixable, but here's Gabriel in his shop for weeks, slowly convincing him otherwise.

Then two other things happen. First, they find out that this all happened to Gabriel essentially because he fell in love. He was fired and his memories were stolen and the only reason he recovered was because Beelzebub happened to give him the one thing that could save him. That must have seemed like incredible luck. Now, how does Aziraphale feel about memories? He lives in a bookshop that is stuffed to bursting with the records of all of human history, essentially. His memories of his time with Crowley are incredibly precious. He sees, there at the end, that everything he is can be taken from him as a punishment for falling in love. Aziraphale doesn't have a magic fly container. He'd be forever robbed of Crowley, his life, himself. It's a very real threat in his mind when Metatron intervenes.

Which brings us to the second thing. Metatron saves Gabriel. Not only that, he prevents him from being punished for loving Beelzebub and lets them both go. What better way to win currency with Aziraphale? HE doesn't want to go off to Alpha Centauri, he never has, but suddenly he sees that Metatron might protect his relationship. And he's probably the only entity with the power to do so.

So we come to two conclusions: Aziraphale, when he goes off to talk with Metatron, is feeling like maybe it's not intrinsically bad to be an angel. He believed all the angels sucked, and only God was good... but now he sees that even Gabriel can change. He met Muriel, and he likes them. (He also had a huge crush on angel Crowley, which is neither here nor there but he loves Crowley in all his forms.) So if Crowley became an angel again, would that really be so bad? In his mind, it wouldn't change who Crowley is. It would just make them both safer and allow them to be together. (He's wrong! And Crowley doesn't see it that way! But this is a key miscommunication. Aziraphale doesn't really believe that becoming a demon changed Crowley. Back to the first scene, which Aziraphale references during the Job minisode. In his eyes, Crowley is the same person (just more cynical because of what's happened to him)-- so why would it matter if he's an angel again? I truly don't think he was trying to save Crowley, or saying that Crowley would be Better as an angel. To him, it doesn't matter what Crowley is. Which is reductive and harmful, but not the same as thinking Crowley needs rescuing from himself.)

Second conclusion: he sees that an angel and demon can be in love, but they have to run away to be together. Gabe and Beelz couldn't go home again. Earth is Aziraphale's home, but after the attack on the bookshop he learned that without Heaven's protection he can't really keep them safe there. Metatron says: "Come with me, do this thing, and you can have guaranteed safety AND be with the love of your life". Poor Aziraphale wants this with every fiber of his being. All he's ever wanted was for Crowley to be safe. He's never been able to offer it. Over the past four years, he thought they were safe, but he's just learned that he was wrong.

This is getting long. Continued in Part Two!

[ineffablesuffering]

There Must Be an Angel (Aziraphale x reader)

I'd like to thank @avocado-writing for the inspo for this fic. They recommended I add this song to my 80s playlist (because I totally forgot this song existed) and this fic was born! I think this is classed as a songfic? I'm not too sure, anyway enjoy! <3

Pairing: Aziraphale x Reader

Warnings: unorganised bookshelves

Word count: 948 (short and sweet, might write a part 2?)

Masterlist

--------------------------------------

“Aziraphale?” you called as you walked through the door of the bookshop, the familiar comforting scent of dust, tea and incense filled your nostrils.

“Ah, Y/N! I was wondering when you would get here,” he said appearing from the back room. “How are you, my dear?” he asked, embracing you.

You gladly returned his embrace “I’m good thank you, how are you?”

“Much better now that you’re here,” he smiled “Shall we get started?”

You had agreed to help Aziraphale organise his books after Jim/Gabriel (you never were sure what to call him) had attempted to sort them in his own unique way. It had been driving him up the wall as he could never find what he was looking for. You were more than happy to help out a friend in need, besides, you enjoyed his company. You nodded and let him show you where he wanted you to start.

“It’s been so frustrating trying to find anything since,” he stopped and sighed “I’m not even going to mention it because it just annoys me. If you want to start here with whatever this is, I’ll start over there,” he pointed to a bookshelf on the other side of the room.

“Sure!” you said cheerfully, “you don’t mind if I listen to some music while I work, do you? Helps me concentrate.”

“Not at all my dear,” he said with a smile, “whatever helps you.” He gave your shoulder a pat before walking off to where he would be working.

You smiled at him as he walked off, pulling your headphones out of your bag and connecting them to your phone. You selected a playlist and got started. The shelves were a disaster zone but at least they were all of the same genre otherwise it would have taken all day to fix whatever was going on. You began by gently taking off all the books from the shelves and placing them on a table nearby before deciding that it would be best to alphabetise by author. Getting stuck in, you bopped along to the music playing on your headphones, singing quietly to yourself every so often. The time passed rather quickly and soon you were on to a new section.

You decided to take the section next to the one where you had started and repeated the process. Taking books of the shelf, placing them on a table and reorganising them. You changed your playlist to an 80’s one and continued to sing along quietly. The smooth sounds of Eurythmics played through your ears. You smiled and continued to work. “I walk into an empty room, and suddenly my heart goes boom, it’s an orchestra of angels and they’re playing with my heart,” you sang.

Aziraphale stopped in the middle of putting a book back on the shelf a few aisles away. He could hear you singing softly to yourself almost as if you didn’t think anyone could hear you. You weren’t singing loudly but it was definitely loud enough for him to hear. He tilted his head slightly, not recognising the song but the fact that you were singing about angels definitely caught his attention. He peaked out from the bookshelf that he was organising and walked around to where you were working.

“I must be hallucinating watching angels celebrating,” you continued to sing.

He stopped when he reached you and stood and watched as you continued to sing softly, not noticing he was standing there. He watched with a soft smile on his lips, you seemed so content organising and singing. You continued to place book by book back on the shelf in an organised manner and he just watched. You started to sing what he assumed to be a different song.

“I hear your voice, it’s like an angel sighing, I have no choice, I hear your voice feels like flying,” you sang.

Aziraphale leans slightly against the bookshelf just watching you. His eyes danced across your figure as you worked, he felt like he could watch you all day. You turned around ready to start on a new set of shelves and jump at the sight of Aziraphale watching you.

“Jesus Christ!” you said, getting a fright “I didn’t hear you come up behind me, is everything okay?” you laughed taking off your headphones.

Aziraphale chuckled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just heard you singing, you’ve got a lovely voice.”

You blushed and bashfully dropped your gaze to the ground. You hadn’t realised that you were singing loud enough for him to hear you. “Thanks,” you mumbled. Aziraphale stepped closer to you, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him.

“There’s no need to be shy my dear,” he smiles moving his hand from your chin to brush a finger across your cheek, almost appreciating the blush. “It was quite beautiful. Almost angelic.” You stood there, gaping at him. You didn’t know what to say or how to react. “What were you singing darling?” he asked softly, snapping you out of your trance.

“Oh! Um what song?” you asked

“The last two just there.”

“Ah, so that was There Must Be an Angel and then the second one was called Like a Prayer.”  

“Hmm, I see,” he started “fitting do you not think?” Again, you were at a loss for words. What is going on? You thought to yourself. Aziraphale smiled at you, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Tea?” he asked. You didn’t say a word as you found yourself staring at him as he walked away.

[sablegear0]

I was having a little think about Kenjaku's relationship with Mahito and I think I may have hit upon something...

We know Kenny hijacked Suguru's body shortly after Suguru's death on the Jujutsu Tech campus. Whatever Satoru did with his body after that is left ambiguous but we know it wasn't disposed of in the standard fashion (cremated) so Kenjaku was able to get access to it. Unless someone tried to find what was left of the arm Suguru lost in his fight with Yuta & Rika and patch it back onto him before he was left somewhere (let's assume buried or stacked in a cairn in the woods somewhere, left otherwise intact and relatively accessible), Kenny would have taken control of a body with a missing limb.

Following this, "Suguru Geto" returns to his congregation of curse users, bloody but unbowed, minus one arm and probably nursing an understandable grudge over his loss on the campus. It's roughly a year before the Shibuya plan is put into motion but Kenjaku has been planning for ages, and most of the pieces are already in place. He just wants a few more good cards in hand before he sets things in motion. I like to think actual Suguru knew of Jogo, Hanami, and Dagon, though he may not have encountered them directly or didn't know quite what to do with them yet. Given his status and technique, it's hard to imagine he wasn't aware of them unless they kept themselves well hidden until the year Kenjaku presumably approached them with a plan. The Mountain, Forest, and Ocean curses were good allies and good fuel for Kenjaku's borrowed technique, and he easily sold them on a modified version of Suguru's "annihilate all humans" plan.

The unexpected bonus was Mahito, who came into being during that interim year. The Humanoid curse was young but cunning, and came with a very unexpected power. By manipulating the soul of a living being, Mahito could freely alter its physiology. Naturally an easy test of this utility would have been talking Mahito into growing the missing arm back on Kenny's borrowed body, which I'm sure Mahito was more than happy to do to prove himself to his new powerful allies.

Now this is where things get interesting. Because Kenny's vessel is Suguru Geto's body, did Mahito manipulate Suguru Geto's soul to grow that arm back? My guess is yes, because of a brief little instance during the Shibuya incident where Kenjaku loses control of his vessel. When he reveals himself to taunt Satoru Gojo, which arm snaps up to to try choke him? The right one. Probably Suguru's dominant hand, sure, but also the one he lost in his fight with Yuta & Rika. The one Mahito had to grow back by tapping into that body's soul.

Now I'm not saying the whole of what remains of the real Suguru is stashed away in that arm. But I am saying that when Mahito touched the real Suguru's soul with his technique and got it moving, he woke it up a bit, just enough for it to know it was still there. I know a common interpretation of this little event is that protecting Satoru was as natural as muscle-memory for Suguru, and the motion was basically automatic. But what if when Satoru spoke to Kenjaku in Shibuya, Suguru's soul was the part that was awake enough to listen, to try to resist, to prove it was still in there.

So for all you wonderful fix-it fic writers, there's a new angle for you if you hadn't considered it. From speaking with Nanami and Yuji, Satoru must be aware of what Mahito is capable of. Perhaps Mahito's technique could be the key to recovering the real Suguru from within that stolen body...

[astarionancuninslittlelove]

BG3 Companions as The Tortured Poets Department Songs:

Wyll•Gale•Astarion•Karlach•Lae’zel•

Shadowheart Headcanon

Wyll 🗡️: "Fresh Out the Slammer"

"Years of labor, locks, and ceilings/

In the shade of how he was feeling/

But it's gonna be alright./

I did my time.

Now pretty baby I'm runnin back home to you"

I am not sure why this just reminds me of Wyll getting out of Mizora's pact and out from under the disapproving eyes of his father and being free. From there, he is free to do as he pleases. Also, I think Wyll to be a certified lover boy, so once he is free of all of this, he is free to really get into it with Tav.

Gale 🔮: "The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived"

"And I don't even want you back/

I just want to know/

If rusting my sparkling summer was the goal/

And I don't miss what we had/

But could someone give/

A message to the smallest man who ever lived"

~

"And you'll confess why you did it/

And I'll say, "Good riddance"/

Cause it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden/

I would've died for your sins/

Instead I just died inside/

And you deserve prison,/

But you won't get time."

Immediately reminded me of Gale and Mystra. The whole time, Gale didn't know that what she was doing was so wrong, and once he came to that realization after she essentially cast him out to die, he realized. As the loyal king that he is, I really believe he would have done anything for her. And Mystra, when I find you Mystra...you do deserve prison!!!!

Astarion 🦇: "I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)"

"They shake their heads/

Saying, "God help her," when I/

Tell 'em he's my man/

But your good Lord doesn't need to lift a finger

I can fix him/

No, really I can.

This reminded me more of Tav x Astarion's relationship rather than Astarion himself. In the beginning when you pair up with Astarion, it is almost like the air is thick with some sort of confusion or disapproval with the companions at camp (not confirmed, just vibes) because (good aligned) Tav and Astarion is such an unlikely pair. They eventually learn to love it.

Karlach 🔥: "Florida!!!"

"And my friends all smell like weed or little babies/

And the city reeks of driving myself crazy"

~

"Your home's really a town/

You're just a guest in"

The first part reminded me of how after Gortash's death, Karlach has dialogue with Tav about how they get to go about living their lives meanwhile she has a death sentence. The second part reminds me of how much she loves Baldur's Gate, but she cannot be there as much as she would want to--She must return to Avernus otherwise her heart will go into overdrive. Also in the epilogue she mentions to Tav how she is going to come back to Baldur's Gate eventually; she PROMISES in fact. She is going to find a way.

Lae'zel ⚔️: "Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?"

"I just want to snarl and show you/

Just how disturbed this has made me/

You wouldn't last an hour/

In the asylum where they raised me"

~

"I was tame, I was gentle/

Til the circus life made me mean/

Don't you worry folks, we took out all her teeth"

This song got me thinking about how her entire upbringing, she was told to worship Vlaakith and how she would do anything in her name. Upon finding out of Vlaakith's ulterior motives, she is stripped of everything that she knew her entire life.

Shadowheart 🖤: "I Hate It Here"

"You see I was a debutant in another life but/

Now I seem to be scared to go outside/

If comfort is a construct/

I don't believe in good luck/

Now that I know what's what.

~

"I hate it here so I will go to/

Secret gardens in my mind/

People need a key to get to/

The only one is mine/

I read about it in a book when I was a precocious child/

No mid-sized city hopes and small town fears/

I'm there most of the year/

Cause I hate it here"

I had a harder time finding a song that fit her, but this one stuck out the most because there are parts of her that she doesn't remember, and throughout the beginning of the game, she is incredibly secretive as a self-preservation tactic.

[squishylemonbubbles]

kiryu autism thoughts

because i say sooooo.

grew up with a lot of trouble figuring out and naming his feelings, and that came with people floundering and not being sure how to help. he learned aggression was a quick fix, unfortunately! compound that with toxic ideals like "boys never cry", which speaking of:

sure he was a boy, but it was hard feeling like one of the boys, you know? because of his problems understanding and following social rules, there were plenty of times he was cast out from bonding and games, and the girls usually wouldn't let him in on theirs either.

probably somewhat of a delinquent in school, not on purpose but see the above, no sense of emotional control that doesn't eventually involve beatdowns. relied on nishiki a fair bit to pull him away.

also probably either didn't finish, or finished with the bare minimum. never got along well with schoolwork, not that he's entirely clueless about how things work, but the structure failed him.

very strong sense of justice, which is what leads him to being self-sacrificial. again compounded by toxic ideals, that men are the ultimate protectors, it becomes a rule in his mind that he must help and he must let people use him (or otherwise put himself in trouble) if the cause is noble.

bad at reading people and their intentions, he tends to think "well, i wouldn't lie about something like that" and it doesn't always register that other people don't all share his thoughts. though, see above as well: even if he feels like someone's intentions are bad, sometimes he feels obligated to help just in case they aren't.

entirely too much eye contact, coupled with his resting face, intimidates people. he doesn't understand why. no seriously:

he does try to be expressive, but it's often either too subtle or too obviously forced. (tbh even in my fics, i do write him with expression but i picture most of them subtly which i find hard to convey sometimes lol)

he really zeroes in when he's focussed, to the point of forgetting about basic care, or the people and situation around him.

not overstimulated especially easily, but it hits really hard when he is - usually from lack of sleep or other self neglect. completely loses his speech, single mindedly just tries to get the fuck out. (one of the reasons i picture kiryu knows, and still occasionally uses, some JSL.)

prison giving him a lot of time to think and "improve himself" meant he sort of found ways to keep his feelings under control, and more importantly to figure them out and be open at least within himself, but externalising is still a massive struggle that takes time to get through, with ups and downs.

uhh i'm sure i could think of more to say but my brain's shot now so i'm leaving it here

[breakerrhexis]

03. THE LIGHT IN DARK PLACES ❤︎‬

TW: GORE AND BLOOD Also link to the fic here!

You and Clive. Clive and you. The teddy bear and the human trapped in a video game against the world. You could see why Karlach cherished the damn thing so much - it provided comfort. Like an anchor comforts a ship amidst tumultuous waters, promising to never let go. You were surprised when she offered you her beloved bear.

Still, a gaping wound existed within you Clive couldn't fix but the question was: to whom did it belong? You or Adin? You felt fear, sure. Who wouldn't in your situation? But why did it feel like you were drowning? Why was there so much pain in your heart? Fire in your lungs. Bugs crawling under your skin. Rotten, rotten, rotten, rotten, rotten-

Clive's matted fur looked wet. His black beady eyes stared at you, sheen with hot tears. Unfamiliar fingers - slender, calloused, and trembling - ran over his face. "What's wrong with me?" You asked softly. "With him?"

Alas, he couldn't answer. Only the tortured echoes of the land did.

Adin's friends - the companions - sat and chatted around a campfire. Shadowheart shooed everyone away to give you space, but you were the kind of person who appreciated company in dire times. You didn't ask them to stay though, as much as you wanted to. They were technically strangers. You knew so much about them and they knew so little of you (as Adin or otherwise) in return.

You stared at them with a sad frown, still twisted in Shadowheart's blankets. You had to tell them. Soon. Not telling them wasn't an option. It wasn't right. But the notion was terrifying - what would they do once you told them? Kill you?

You looked at Clive. "How fucked am I? Be honest."

If Clive could talk, he would've surely said: "So unbelievably fucked."

As much as you didn't want to, camp packed up an hour later and everyone was set to go. With a backpack heavier than your woes and daggers strapped to your side, you were also hesitantly set. But the unease in your gut was not.

"So, what's the plan?" Shadowheart asked you.

You blinked at her. "What?"

"Yes, Adin. What now? You told us to rest and we'd leave later. Where are we going? Are you still unwell?"

"No, no! I'm fine!" You waved her concern off. "I think we..." You racked your brain - where in the hell were you and where did that fall in Act Two? There was no inn in sight or moonrise towers. Were they in the very beginning?

"There's an inn somewhere around here. We'll find help there. Come on!" You marched onward, torch in hand before Shadowheart could ask further questions. You did a meticulous job avoiding the cleric and her questioning gaze.

If there was one notable trait about you, it had to be your amazing memory. Adin had all the brawn but you - you had all the brain. Of course, all of that "brain" was because you played the game before. Still, credit must be given where it was due. You remembered most of the details!

You, however, seemed to have forgotten the teeny tiny detail of Kar'niss and his convoy.

Flying arrows, bottles exploding in massive fires, and a drider striding towards you at an alarming rate of speed - it wasn't what you had in mind. Granted, you had nothing in mind. But it definitely was not that.

From a rooftop Astarion magically appeared on, an arrow landed in one of Kar'niss's eight legs and the Drider roared. "Move!" Astarion yelled from above and you scrambled out of the road into the destroyed house.

Harpers eyed you but otherwise paid you no mind, focused on destroying the convoy first.

You peeked an eye over a windowless square in the wall, watching Halsin's bear form tear an orc's head off. The brutal sight of Halsin spitting out its head like it was gum and blood sputtering from where it was once attached left you sick, bile rising in your throat. You slid back down the wall.

It was a sight you'd never forget.

"Adin, you pathetic worm!" Lae'zel yelled as she ran into the shack where she found you hugging your knees to your chest. "Get up, istik! Come-"

A goblin snuck up behind her, aiming his spear at her head, and your body reacted faster than your mind. In mere seconds, you found yourself where the githyanki had once been - a dagger lodged deep in the goblin's right eye. You blinked as the fog in your brain lifted, your mouth falling open in shock. The goblin, just as surprised, touched the dagger.

Then it wailed, spear clattering to the ground.

You froze, stunned, staring at him as you tried to wrap your head around what happened. What you'd done. But you hadn't meant to. You weren't even thinking about it. You weren't fast enough to do all that - never swift enough to dodge balls even in dodgeball.

Karlach finished the job with a swing of her axe, warm blood splattering across your face in the process. Its head rolled off its shoulders and Karlach stopped it with her foot. She reached down and wretched your dagger free from the goblin's face, taking its eye out in the process.

"Ohh, squishy."

You puked.

Kar'niss was the hardest one to kill, but as his team fell one by one, he stood no chance against twelve people. Even as formidable as the drider was, he succumbed to the throws of death as a Harper ended his life with some sort of spell - drawing his life essence out like a vampire. He crumbled, spider legs falling flat, moonlantern tumbling to the ground.

The Harpers were on you in seconds.

"Who are you?" One of them asked, distrust perceivable in their eyes. "Why’d you help us? It makes no sense."

As the ever-so eloquent one, you responded with a lame, "Uh..." Their fingers danced with green mist and floating leaves. "We're looking for an inn! And a way to Baldur's Gate. We mean no harm!"

Halsin popped up beside you, back in his elven form. His warm voice carried a hint of authority, commanding attention, and respect. "What my friend says here is true. We're indeed looking for a way to the city and the cultist's base of operation. I heard it was here."

The Harpers looked at each other. "Fine, come on. The inn's this way."

You watched as a Harper picked up the lantern. A tiny little voice, unbeknownst to those not looking, pleaded for help. You had almost forgotten about the little pixie, still lost in the memories of blood and daggers.

You yelled, "Wait!" The Harper holding the lantern stepped back, hand on his sword. "There's something inside... Look."

The silver light emitting from the lantern fluttered like a lightbulb blinking on and off.

"Get me out of here! Please! Please! I'll do anything!" A high-pitched voice pleaded. The Harpers glanced at each other.

"You're right..." The one that’d been questioning you nodded. "But we need the lantern. I'm sorry."

"No! Please, let me out!"

"There must be another way," you insisted. "Can I try?"

The Harper narrowed their eyes at you. Halsin, the gentle giant he was, placed his hand on your shoulder. "You can trust him. We won't do anything to jeopardize your mission."

Reluctantly, the man passed you the lantern and you offered a thankful smile in return. 

Inside the lantern, a pixie fluttered about. Her tiny hands wrapped themselves around the iron bars, shaking herself back and forth. "Let me out! Let me out! I will die in here!"

"I'll let you out, don't worry," you whispered, reassuring the poor thing. You unlatched the iron door and yelped as the fairy raced out. The Harpers cursed you out. Halsin's hand on your shoulder tightened.

"FINALLY! Been trapped in that coffin with no one but a mad drider and my own farts for company," the pixie complained, her iridescent wings fluttering like a hummingbird. You laughed much like you did went you first heard that line. "Did me a good turn there, didn't you. What do I owe you?"

"We need to get through this curse. Can you help?"

She hummed, tapping her chin in thought. For a moment, you worried she’d refuse your request, which wouldn’t make a lick of sense considering that never happened in the game. Alas, she nodded. Your shoulders relaxed.

"Here. Give this bell a shake, speak the magic words, and you'll get what you earned. Protection from the shadow curse - what more could a dingus want?"

A bell materialized in the palm of your hand and as the pixie flew off, she shouted over her shoulder, "Your welcome!"

━━━━━✁┈┈┈┈┈┈

Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long to upload this chapter! Life's been a little crazy lately. I know it's TMI but this is the happiest decision I've made in a while despite the pain its caused me. (TW FOR THE FOLKS THAT NEED IT) I broke off my three year relationship for one important reason: a breach of respect and consent. I didn't realize there was some trauma there. It's almost like my brain fogged up those memories, but you know I realized now rather than later. You don't have to stay until things get worse - a lesson I didn't know I needed until now. There's happiness in this solace I feel now - writing and sipping coffee with my sister. The bad outweighed all the good he'd done, and there was some good but it didn't clear how unsafe he made me feel in the end. No amount of promises, tears, and flowers can erase certain mistakes. But all is good now! I put myself first and fought, so I can't be any happier :) Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'll add and edit and fix if need be

━☆・*。

　　・゜

　 °。+ * 。

　　　　　.・゜

　　　　　゜｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ。

　　　　　　ﾟ。　 　｡ﾟ

　　　　　　　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

[mistress-of-malevolence]

📖 its me again 😈 do u mayhaps have any more ideas,,,

Sure do!~ here's a few more!

1: (Untitled) A Red Son x Reader LMK arranged marriage/rivals to lovers where Princess Iron fan and DBK are unconfident in their son's ability to do anything right- including finding a spouse worthy of carrying on their great family line. so, they pick one for him. you are the finest soldier in the demon bull corps; smart, strong, capable- you have never failed an assignment, and that's not about to change anytime soon. they assign you to their son's side so that you can grow closer under the guise of you being his aid in attempting to retrieve the monkey king's staff- killing two birds with one stone. Unfortunately, you aren't exactly Red Son's biggest fan, finding his haughty attitude beyond irritating. this wasn't fair to either of you, like hell you would let it go forward. Since Iron fan and DBK hadn't told their son what they were up to or straight-up forced him to tie the knot with you, you guessed that they wanted him to choose you of his own free will- something you are certain would never happen. Your plan was to put everything you had into getting that staff back and absolutly nothing into getting red son to like you. Of course youll have to fake some sort of repour when prying eyes are watching otherwise the jig is up and your bosses will find out your disobeying orders. But it should be fine, your confident that you can manage. You can beat up one measely deleviery boy. You can tollerate Red son for as long as you need to. You can get him to cooperate with the neritive without clueing him in. You wont lose.

2:(Untitled) A Micheal Afton x OC FNAF. Riley moves in with her grandparents after getting kicked out of her old school for getting into a bad fight with the principals daughter. she hates it. she liked her old school and her old friends just fine, most of all she liked her old house. but she doesn't have must of a choice in the matter, her mom cant drop everything to drive her two hours every morning with her hospital jobs hours, so moving in with her grand parents who live within walking distance of her new school is the next best thing. her first night in town, she goes boarding and accidentally knocks some guy off a bike. they don't make a great first impression on each other, but they'll have to learn to get along as long as they're classmates. the more time they spend together, the more they begrudgingly realize they have in common. this leads to a lot of rivalry, fighting and an unrealized awkward tension between them. also, they meet right before Even/CC dies so... yeah :) angst. :)

3:(The Right Path) a Laard Nar x Navigator Invader Zim fic where Nav saves the massive from sailing into the Florpus at the last second by going against the Tallest's command. everyone lived! however, the tallest we not too pleased with his disobedience. so, they had him thrown in a holding cell and scheduled for a Pak wipe. of course, having literally been born to pilot the massive, he knew the ship like the back of his hand. he escaped to a random planet on a stolen voot cruiser. on that planet he wanders, until he comes upon Resisty HQ by complete coincidence.

BONUS! 4: (All Hail Queen Bee!) a Miraculous Ladybug Re-write/Fix-it where Chloe gets to keep the bee miraculous and her character development because I'm bitter & petty. i... i could give a run down about it but there's just so much and yet not nearly enough to talk about. if i tried, id just end up ranting, it honestly needs its own post but i just wanted to let ya know it exists in my brain.

[mercurygray]

Hi Merc! For the sleepover meme - What do you think happens to Doris after the war? Does she go back to Chicago? Marry a boy from the neighborhood? Or does life have other plans for her?

You know, Jess, I'm so glad you asked, because this reminded me that I still needed to post the epilogue of The Darkening Sky. I have just done so - and I wish everyone joy of reading it.

I think Doris likes the world that's opened up to her since being in the Army. She's met a lot of people who are very different from her, and made a lot of friends she wouldn't have otherwise ever met. Home is important, and she'll get there...eventually. But there are still places she wants to see.

Since the earliest days of TDS, I've had someone in mind for Doris - and I'm happy I can finally share this piece I've had sitting in my drafts since 2021 about it.

He was thinking about John, happy enough drinking boilermakers in a Melbourne bar and complaining through the champagne they'd made him and Lena drink at their wedding luncheon. "It's for sissies," he'd repeated, over and over until he was nearly red, but Lena wouldn't take no for an answer, and he'd finally relented, downing one glass like a shot and getting a face full of fizz for his trouble. "Lena, where'd you find an Italian who doesn't like wine?" all her friends had asked, and Lena had only laughed, his hand wrapped around hers like he'd never let go.

No one else could have made him drink the stuff but her - but that was part of what he loved about her, wasn't it? That she was an unstoppable force who would not be refused. He'd remembered thinking, watching them at that table in the hotel over lunch, that John had all the luck, a medal, a commission, this beautiful woman to love him. They'd thrown away the mold when they'd made Lena, he was sure of it, because he'd yet to meet a woman before or since who could match her for smiles and spark and sheer determination to see a thing done. (There was a reason she'd joined the Marines, and married one to boot.)

It had been a long time since JP had seen her - longer still since he'd written. He should fix that.

But thinking of her was making him glance across the room at the woman from earlier, with the jump wings and the neat row of ribbons on her jacket. She was still holding a table on the other side of the bar, alone. 

"Ask her to dance!" He could still hear Lena's voice, urging him to ask one of her friends out onto the dance floor at her reception. "Or is a big strong Marine like you afraid of a couple of strong women?" 

He and John had joked enough about what a female leatherneck must have looked like, when they'd first shipped out to the Canal - but John had never joked about the Reserve after he'd married Lena.

He looked at the beer and the shot across the table, and could almost see the man himself, giving him one of those long, unamused glances that said, in no uncertain terms, what he really thought of JP and whatever decision he'd just made. You know, if you'd hadn't been such a jackass...

 "You're really giving me that, aren't you?" he mumbled to the glass and the empty chair. But his memory of John just kept on smirking. She really is kinda cute - and marine or no, she wasn't taking any of your crap. It was pretty hot.  "Oh, fine." He sighed, finished his beer, and took John's from the other side of the table, downing the shot and pressing through the bar to her table, clearing his throat and waiting for her to make eye contact. 

"Seems I, ah, might owe you an apology. I was out of line, earlier, and I'm sorry, for being such a heel about it."

She studied him for a moment, obviously debating whether to take him seriously or not. "Apology accepted." 

"You, um, waiting for someone?" He asked, indicating the undrunk beer on the table across from her.

"Not unless Saint Peter's giving 24 hour passes," she replied, still a little sharp, her hands wrapped around her own pint glass in an almost thoughtful manner. She was cute, all dark eyes and dark hair, shorter and filling every inch of her uniform in a way that he found, on further review, that he found quite attractive. (John could keep the tall, skinny ones - a guy liked something to hold onto, once in a while, something that felt real.)

"Friend?" No sooner were the words out than he found himself adding Please don't say boyfriend.

She nodded - a relief. "A couple of ‘em."

"Me, too." She looked up, mildly interested. "Did this once with a buddy, in Melbourne," he said, holding up the beer. "Went out and got loaded on account of another friend of ours. Now I'm ...drinking for both of 'em and thinking I got no one to drag my sorry ass home when it's over."

"They'd be the ones dragging me home, too," she responded, still a little cagey, but thoughtfully so, and, finally, unwrapped her hands from her beer and held one out to shake. "Sergeant Doris Russo, 506th Parachute Infantry." Her grip was firm and her palm calloused - a hard-working hand, one that had seen some things and done some things in the last two years.

"Sergeant JP Morgan, Seventh Marines."

She indicated the beer and the empty seat in front of her with a sweep of her eyes. "Tell me yours and I'll tell you mine," she said with a patient smile, letting him arrange himself on the chair (and carefully move the undrunk beer out of the way) while she flagged down a waiter for a refill.

--

Doris Russo, uneager to return to Chicago, took a short assignment with the Army at the Presidio, in San Francisco, where she met her future husband, a Marine returning from the Pacific. She received no end of teasing about this at later Easy Company reunions. They have four children, and Doris was very active in her childrens’ education, serving on the school board.

[ayaz--ates]

I'LL MISS YOU FOR ALL THE DAYS:

Same as part one. I'm sorry I did this to you, my man. You are and will always be one of my most beloved characters. ♥ Date: March 16th, 2024. Warnings: Drug use, overdose, implied prostitution, character death, sad times, both Kate and Ayaz having a mental breakdown.

‘The place in Wood Green we had to shake down last week. He’s there.’ ‘You’re sure?’ ‘I wouldn’t have said anything otherwise.’

“Imagine being this much of a fucking disappointment…”

As he restarted the engine of his Aston Martin—cautious about idling this long anywhere in Haringey lest he end up on bricks—the man muttered away angrily to himself. Tossing his phone into the front passenger seat in frustration, Ayaz quickly pulled out into the sparse, late-evening traffic.

It was like babysitting a grown fucking adult.

In fact, that was precisely what it was.

Rumours had been circling around Haringey in the weeks since Valentine’s Day—unfortunately, he spent more than enough time there these days to have picked up on it—and he’d heard all about Berat’s fight with Kerem over Nevra. Speaking of fucking disappointments. The apparent year-long relationship was something he’d bring up with her another time, but her ex-fiancé had evidently made his feelings on the matter known. Even if a conversation with Giordana regarding their date had set his mind at ease about Berat’s mental state, Ayaz was still concerned.

In the blink of an eye, that man could and would spiral…

The few Rutherfords he trusted with the task asked why he cared enough to have people keeping an eye out for a Turk at all, let alone reporting in when they thought he might’ve been gearing up for his next fix. A waste of manpower, someone had the gall to suggest. Ayaz must have missed the part where he’d asked for their opinion on how he chose to conduct business in his borough.

His thumb tapped impatiently against his steering wheel as he hit a red light.

How the fuck was Berat still sinking this low?

How could he put Nevra through this if she really meant that much to him?

When Ayaz had beat the shit out of him the first time—punch after punch to a face that ended up so mangled it was almost unrecognisable—it’d been for Ceren. Partly for himself, too, he supposed. The man had been so fucking blasted on heroin and whatever else, he hadn’t even managed to keep it together long enough to make it to her funeral. Hadn’t even said goodbye. And the truth was, as soft a spot as he would always have for Berat, Ayaz would never be able to forgive him for that. Not when he knew the waste of space was his cousin’s whole world.

This was for her, too, he assured himself.

Not for himself.

Not for the memories he still clung to of looking out for him when he was a tragic kid trying to find his way in a new country. Not because he’d once seen him as a little brother, and that kind of bond never really went away completely no matter how much bad blood was spilled between sides. Because it’d never really been Berat that’d turned on him or his family. Ayaz recalled vividly a moment after they’d been cast from Haringey when he’d dared come back to visit his cousins, and whilst everyone else circled like predators, ready to be the ones who got to claim an Ateş, Berat had been the only one to defend him. It’d ended up violent, but Berat had stayed with him.

No doubt he’d paid for that. Maybe Ayaz would pay for this one day, too.

Getting to the run down club had taken a lot less time than he’d been expecting, Allah'a şükür. Maybe he’d be able to make it inside before he even had chance to get a needle.

Ayaz was going to drag him the fuck out of there and give him the hiding of his life.

If being with Nevra was what he wanted, if a relationship with Leyla was what he wanted, he was going to stop fucking up, because they deserved better.

The car had barely stopped before he was in the street.

It truly was an awful area to find oneself; a shit stain on the borough in its entirety, which was saying something when Haringey was exactly that to London. There were scantily clad women gathered around the doorway, cocaine at their noses, drinks in their hands, a sway to the hips that said come inside. There was shattered glass. Boarded up windows. Even the sign overheard was missing a letter. It looked exactly the type of place where you could slip into the basement and shoot up.

They didn’t even try to hide it.

When the security guard outside caught sight of Ayaz, he looked petrified.

“Berat Yalaz, is he here?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, he went insi—”

Ayaz didn’t give him the courtesy of finishing because it was all the confirmation he needed. The Rutherford weaved through the Saturday night crowd, ignoring people who recognised him, ignoring the people heckling him, and focusing solely on the staircase across the room that he knew took anybody who wanted it right into the pits of hell.

The man guarding the top of the stairs had tried to stop him until Ayaz had put a gun in his face.

He’d been less confrontational after that.

“It’s almost like you ignored our little talk entirely, Deniz. So are you deaf or fucking stupid, because I very specifically remember telling you not—”

—to sell to Berat Yalaz.

The women were so pale and grey, one could’ve been fooled into thinking they were translucent. They were skin and bones and sunken in eyes and gaunt faces with shadows that made them look twenty years older than he was sure they were. The room smelt of damp and piss and reminded him a bit of the tube but without a coherent crowd, and if it hadn’t been for Berat, he would have been quite literally anywhere else. These people deserved to be subservient when they lived like animals and his disdain was radiating.

“You need to leave right now, Ateş. You are not welcome here.”

“I don’t remember asking for permission.”

There were two men passed out against a wall, but neither were the one he was looking for.

Someone was getting their dick sucked. Another ghostly woman cried in the corner.

They’d been so sure he was here, and yet…

There was a commotion coming from behind one of the curtains that sectioned off the room into semi-private areas for those who’d pay more. Checking them had been his next priority, but now that his attention had been drawn to the sound of muffled crying and something rustling just ahead, he knew where he was going to start.

“Ayaz,” Deniz continued, angry now as he limped after the Rutherford lieutenant. “No!”

The man dared grab for the shoulder of his jacket with his grubby fucking hands and absolute fucking audacity. The action was timed perfectly with Ayaz reaching out for the dank curtain and tossing it aside, and even though Deniz had tried to yank him back, the old man’s frailty betrayed him. It might’ve taken a moment for Ayaz to register precisely what he was looking at, but it would’ve taken much longer to be removed from the situation before he could.

And that was unfortunate for everybody in the room.

The rustling was coming from a comically large, cloudy sheet of plastic.

The crying was coming from the girls attempting to use it to roll up a lifeless body.

And for a moment, he felt himself falter.

“We didn’t know, Ateş. It was a bad batch, or maybe it was laced with fentanyl or—”

The words were wasted when all of a sudden everything seemed to go very quiet. Deniz might’ve been attempting to explain himself to avoid meeting a similar fate, and yet all Ayaz could hear were the whimpers of the women who seemed to think themselves to blame as opposed to the piece of shit behind him. An unfocused gaze dropped down to Berat’s face; eyes opened but empty, vomit very obviously starting to dry around his face and neck and at his shirt and…

“Look, maybe Kerem will be okay with this after everything that happened…”

Whilst he might not have heard the excuses, Ayaz had sure fucking heard that.

What?

Until that fleeting moment, it’d been his intention to drag Deniz out into the streets of Haringey and make an example of him like he fucking deserved. A reminder that when he said something, demanded it, he expected people to listen. But, as if he no longer possessed control of his body at all, the very same gun he’d used to scare the guard just upstairs unloaded two piercingly loud shots right into Deniz’s terrified fucking face without so much as a hint of what was to come.

Let’s see how much he’d have to say after that, huh?

And he was shaking now as the body hit the floor. Not like the women who had retreated in fear that they might be next, but enough that he’d almost lost the weapon in his hand.

Almost stumbled into the wall beside him.

Ayaz had expected to come here and scream obscenities at him. Tell him how much of a waste it was that he’d lived whilst Ceren had died and how he wished every day that’d been different. Maybe throw a few punches to bring him back to reality, and maybe a few because he wanted to, and perhaps, in a worst case scenario, get him back to Tottenham so he could sober up before he could do any of those things…but this?

Suddenly, he felt ill.

“Is he dead?”

It seemed stupid to ask when he hadn’t moved an inch since he’d gotten there. No breathing, no blinking, no choking…

“We tried—we tried to help him but—”

“Why didn’t anybody call for help?”

“Sir, we’re not allowed to call for help.”

Ayaz reached a hand up to his mouth. It’d been out of exasperation, shock, and yet he found himself using it to stifle a sob he hadn’t even known was building. As if it was the first step in a chain reaction, his vision went blurry with tears, and he dropped to a crouching position beside his old friend as if it might once again afford him the ability to breathe.

When he reached out to feel for a pulse, he already knew it was in vain, but what if they were wrong? What if they’d assumed the worse in haste, and…

“I’m sorry.”

The woman didn’t dare reach out to him, but the pain behind her eyes was so sincere when she muttered the words, he couldn’t help but wonder how many times she’d been in a situation like this before tonight.

Berat was dead.

Berat was dead, and he decidedly couldn’t fucking breathe.

‘Look after him once I’m gone, won’t you? We’ve never been away from each other before, and I think it’s going to hurt him…’

Ceren’s words echoed in his head, mocking his abject failure, and he’d never been horrified to recall any part of her until that moment.

How little would she think of him now?

When his cousin had pleaded with him to keep an eye out for Berat in spite of the fact they’d chosen different sides, she’d meant because she was headed to Porto Velho with her Rutherford boyfriend. It’d all seemed less serious, less important. And then she was gone, and suddenly a mild concern sounded more like a dying wish. If only she’d known how much he’d end up hurting, maybe she wouldn’t have asked something so monumental…

Ayaz pinched at the bridge of his nose, damp from tears.

Took a deep breath as his eyes once more focused on Berat.

The realisation he’d never speak with him again weighed heavy.

That he’d likely never see him again, more so.

As he pulled out his phone to call one of people, his voice was so thick the first few words of his statement had been lost entirely:

“I need a couple of cars here now. Deniz is dead. I want these girls out of here.”

“Is…what’s going on? Are you good? Did you find Berat?”

“Just send the fucking cars, Greg.”

[skaruresonic]

My question about remakes and their faithfulness was also about remakes of bad games, not just classics

It's easy to say that a remake should remain faithful when it's adapting a game that was already highly regarded, but what about when the source material is genuinely very flawed?

Of course throwing everything into the trash can and making something wholly different is a copout even then, but being too faithful in this case might result in a remake repeating the original's mistakes, which defeats the purpose of the original

Easy example, I know, but think about something like Sonic 06: if you were tasked with remaking a game of that level how faithful could you really be? Think of the art style: it's one of that game's biggest flaws, in some ways replacing it with something more in line with Sonic's general aesthetics would be an objective improvement yet by doing so you would effectively eliminate a core aspect of the game's identity, yet if the identity itself is so flawed is it worth preserving in its entirety?

What about the story? You can't leave it as it is, character motivations and characters like Elise are fine, but stuff like the time travel mechanic and characters acting dumber than rocks breaks the narrative, should it be redone mostly from scratch even at the cost of the original vision?

I ask this because the biggest issue with modern remake culture I think is the focus on remaking old classics due to the ensured success they bring, rather than bad or mediocre which you'd think would be more in need of a second wind

Personally I'm someone who, on average, would prefer a remake to keep itself anchored to the original vision as much as possible, but if I find that a remake does something (like a gameplay mechanic) better than the original, even if in a way that is not faithful to the original vision, then I can't bring myself to ignore that on principle alone.

I guess that at the end of the day I have a rather simplistic mindset about it: outside of some egregious example I'll mostly gravitate what I'll find the most fun within the context of what's being offered to me

It's easy to say that a remake should remain faithful when it's adapting a game that was already highly regarded, but what about when the source material is genuinely very flawed?

Why does even "flawed" source material need to be remade? Can't bad art be allowed to exist without necessitating that it be improved?

Sometimes bad art can be bad from the very premise, and there's no amount of polish that can turn a turd into a masterpiece. Nobody's going to turn Sharknado into a Martin Scorsese film with a billion-dollar budget. It's just not happening.

For another thing, how bad must something be to warrant a remake? Mid? Terrible? So bad, it's good? What about boring works? What about obscure works? What about works that appeal to no one? What about works that are technically sound, but otherwise too weird and niche to sell? What about works that are almost good but not quite? What metric do we use to determine which works deserve revamping, who will enforce those standards, and how?

For a third thing, what if the adaptation winds up fucking up something it should have improved? Will we need an adaptation to fix the adaptation?

I think we need to start making original art again, and if it turns out bad, oh well, we'll do better next time, instead of implying each work deserves a certain number of do-overs. Because then that lets creators off the hook for creating something of sufficient quality the first time around.

---

Of course throwing everything into the trash can and making something wholly different is a copout even then, but being too faithful in this case might result in a remake repeating the original's mistakes, which defeats the purpose of the original

I don't really know about this. Bad art is worth studying in what it did poorly, and scrubbing away the flaws also risks erasing learning opportunities.

Not sure if bad games ought to be remade so much as given the black-box treatment.

---

Easy example, I know, but think about something like Sonic 06: if you were tasked with remaking a game of that level how faithful could you really be? Think of the art style: it's one of that game's biggest flaws, in some ways replacing it with something more in line with Sonic's general aesthetics would be an objective improvement yet by doing so you would effectively eliminate a core aspect of the game's identity, yet if the identity itself is so flawed is it worth preserving in its entirety?

Maybe I'm too reductionist but I would rather let '06 be.

It's not just that the gameplay was soul-suckingly terrible, it's also that the story itself was so forgettable I have to question whether it is indeed worth it. Especially given how it erases itself from continuity.

---

I ask this because the biggest issue with modern remake culture I think is the focus on remaking old classics due to the ensured success they bring, rather than bad or mediocre which you'd think would be more in need of a second wind

Okay, they could remake bad games too. But they don't. They don't because money. Even if they thought remaking bad games to be lucrative business - which it won't be since it's too much financial risk - that still doesn't solve the problem of treating games as expendable.

To be clear, I don't take issue with the platonic concept of remakes; I take umbrage with remake culture generated by corporate quest for profit, which influences the public to treat games as expendable and not a "real" art form in need of preservation.

Besides, it doesn't really matter whether big publishers remake good or bad games if the underlying idea they're still trying to peddle to you is that games, period, have an expiration date. Even the bad ones, but especially the masterpieces. Nothing is exempt.

It won't matter if you, the AAA studio, publish a dud, because in five years' time you'll just "fix" it in post with a remake, and people will throw their cash money at you. Future game devs have no reason to learn from your mistakes. Nothing progresses.

---

Personally I'm someone who, on average, would prefer a remake to keep itself anchored to the original vision as much as possible, but if I find that a remake does something (like a gameplay mechanic) better than the original, even if in a way that is not faithful to the original vision, then I can't bring myself to ignore that on principle alone.

I guess I'm biased because I tend to find older games more solid in terms of gameplay mechanics, even if they are "clunky" and annoying in parts. They're a lot less hand-holdy. And what are games for, if not challenge?

When you're developing a game, you won't know whether a remake improves the original's mechanics until the horse has bolted from the stable. There's always the possibility the change turns out neither better nor worse than the original, just different.

This is what Takayoshi Sato was talking about when he said art direction accomplishes what technology alone cannot. Shiny tech isn't everything; you need to involve skill and craft as well. You can't just assume something will be better simply for being new.

---

I guess that at the end of the day I have a rather simplistic mindset about it: outside of some egregious example I'll mostly gravitate what I'll find the most fun within the context of what's being offered to me

I mean, that's valid. But at the risk of sounding pretentious, Silent Hill 2 is one of those games where people on both sides of the fence are a little wrong. SH2 cannot be anything other than a video game, and furthermore cannot work as anything other than a PS2 video game with PS2-era sensibilities.

The way it was designed is too deeply baked into the grain for a remake to even hope to be "faithful" to its idiosyncrasies. Not unless the PS5 has some ultra-awesome transparent fog tech we've not heard of yet, but even then.

The game parts matter more than the "play for the story, not the game" crowd will have you believe, because the game experience is the story. Your choices, the UI elements, the memos, the puzzles - they all are too carefully designed to not be deliberate.

This is a game where its... game-ness... was incorporated into the design in inextricable ways, down to the fact that saving represents lifing blocks from James' mind, so selling it as a game you play for story and nothing else discredits it.

More linear mediums would force one ending upon you, whereas being a video game means SH2 retains moral vagary with multiple, equally ambiguous, endings. You, the player, form just as much a part of James' character study as anything else; remove that interactive element, and a significant source of thematic resonance is lost.

Yet there's not much denying that playing on anything other than native hardware means you're not getting the full experience; James' motions map to pressure-sensitive buttons, and people playing on emulator frequently complain about the combat being "unresponsive" due to the emulator's inability to mimic pressure sensitivity.

Furthermore, I don't think SH2 is meant to be A Video Game(tm) in the sense that it's particularly fun to play. But that's kind of the point; what's fun about murder, trauma, mental illness, and suicide?

And yet, despite being disappointing in regard to traditional video game expectations, plenty of people have gleaned enjoyment from the experience SH2 offers. It's fun exploring the town, searching every nook and cranny for things you missed.

[kenziedrawz]

Malfunction.

- A Ruikasa g/t fic - cross posted on AO3 -

fic underneath the cut. - 2,106 words

Rui quickly locked the bathroom door behind him, muttering an apology to whatever students who would want to do their business or whatever. Thankfully it was empty when he went inside, otherwise he didn't know what he'd do. He placed a collar shaped device onto the counter, how had it broken? He was sure that it worked fine this morning. So there should have been no issues! But, either way, his regulator had broken. And that was very bad, because without it he couldn't control his abilities.

His body already felt tight, he knew that he should try to calm down but he just couldn't right now.

But when did it break? Why did it break? He didn't know, but he had to fix it as soon as possible. He dug through his pockets to try and find a tool, any tool, but his rapid search turned up fruitless as he realized he left his tools on the rooftop. On the rooftop, with Tsukasa. Tsukasa, who surely must be very confused because he just bolted out of the roof top.

He felt sorry for suddenly ditching the blond with no explanation, but this was an emergency. One so grave that if he didn't fix the problem he might destroy the school, or be seen as a gigantic monster by everyone he knows. He stared down at the faulty latch of the collar, he was fucked.

Either he miraculously found a screwdriver in his pocket or he had to keep a grip on his form long enough to go back up to the roof top to get the one he left on the rooftop. And that meant he had to confront Tsukasa. But what would Tsukasa think? Would he call him a monster? Would he kick him out of Wonderlands x Showtime? Would he just simply not believe him?

God, he needed to calm down. the counter was already drifting away from him.

Unfortunately, he didn't find a screwdriver.

He was screwed.

His head hit the ceiling, reminding him of his current problem. Right, he just needs to calm down... but how could he when his secret, his very big secret, was in danger of being revealed? He just couldn't, but maybe he could keep calm enough to not destroy the bathroom? Yeah, yeah he could probably do that. He took a deep breath, held it, and then let it out slowly.

There was a knock on the door, was it a teacher? No, it was much worse. " Rui? Are you alright?" Tsukasa's voice rang from the other side of the bathroom door, concern in the blond's tone. He should have known that Tsukasa would eventually follow him, he must have seen Rui enter the bathroom. Crap, this was bad.

" I- I'm fine, Tsukasa-kun." Rui replied, quieting his voice so it would sound normal. Tsukasa must have picked up on the anxious strain in his voice as the blond didn't leave. Damn it, why was his star so stubborn?

" You don't sound fine, Rui." Tsukasa replied, Rui could just imagine Tsukasa's puffed cheeks and stern hands on hips pose. The thought made him internally chuckle, it was cute, but he still didn't shrink. " Do you need help? Can I come in?"

" No- I mean- I'm fine, I can handle this by myself." Rui hastily answered, hoping that Tsukasa would take the hint and hopefully give him some time alone to calm down. But unfortunately, He didn't hear Tsukasa walk away. Maybe Rui could retreat to the SEKAI if things got bad? No, Tsukasa could still follow him there and find out.

Wait, did he even have his phone on him? If he didn't... Well, then he was even more screwed. He couldn't call his parents or text Nene to bring him a screwdriver.

The door was opening, he forgot that this bathroom's main door was easy to get open even if it was locked. Tsukasa was going to see him, fuck, no no no no no no no-

" Rui, I'm coming in to help you whether you want my help or not!-" Tsukasa froze as he stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. The blond stared up to meet Rui's panicked gaze, his amber eyes slightly widened. Rui was prepared for him to scream, to try and run away, to faint dramatically. But he really wasn't prepared for what Tsukasa actually did.

The blond took a deep breath, holding his hands in front of his face in a prayer motion before he lowered them with an exhale. " Okay, this isn't the weirdest thing I've seen." The blond muttered under his breath before looking back up at Rui. " So, how'd this happen?" Tsukasa asked.

" You... aren't afraid?" Rui asked, staring down at Tsukasa with confusion and curiosity. 

" Well, this isn't the weirdest thing I've ever seen." Tsukasa said with a shrug. " Considering that we've been stranded on an island before, and the whole world made from my feelings that exists this isn't actually the strangest thing that could have happened." He explained. Rui let out a sigh of relief, thanking whatever gods there were that Tsukasa didn't seem to be afraid of him.

Silence hung between them, whether it was comfortable or not is debatable. It was almost peaceful until Tsukasa spoke up again, inching closer to the gigantic director. " So, to restate my question from earlier, how exactly did this happen Rui?" The blond asked, staring up at the other man.

This made Rui panic a little, what would he do? would he tell Tsukasa the truth? Or would he lie to the troupe leader? Would Tsukasa be scared of him if he told him the truth? Or would he be accepting? These questions swirled in Rui's mind like an endless whirlpool of anxiety, one that only calmed when he felt Tsukasa's tiny hand brush against his knuckles. God, Tsukasa was so tiny compared to him, one wrong move could send him flying through a wall or worse.

So Rui did the best thing he thought he could do in this situation, avoid the question. 

" Nevermind that Tsukasa-kun,  I'll tell you later." Rui lied, or well, it was more of a half lie. Rui still didn't know if he wanted yo tell Rui the truth yet, he honestly hoped that the blond would forget that Rui was supposed to tell him later. " But for now, could you help me a bit?" He asked.

Tsukasa looked up at him, their height difference bigger than it had ever been before as the small blond nodded. Tsukasa's hand was still on his knuckle, hell, he'd even began stroking his knuckle as if he were petting a dog. Rui's heart fluttered at the sight and he swore that he shrunk down a bit. No, he definitely shrunk down a bit. " Rui! You're- You're shrinking now?" Tsukasa said with a surprised gasp, it must have been a significant size change then.

" It- It's a side effect." Rui lied again, the fear of Tsukasa running away ever present in his tone. He felt the urge to hold onto Tsukasa to prevent the blond from running away if he decided to, but that would make them both panic. And not to even mention how he could accidentally hurt Tsukasa. It was a bad idea all in all. He looked down again, seeing the concern in Tsukasa's eyes as the blond gazed up at him. Oh- right, and he was still caressing his knuckle ever so gently. The actions of the blond were still somehow strangely calming, as if he was a flower of lavender being held close to him. Then again Tsukasa isn't purple.

Wait. He was supposed to be doing something, right? Oh yeah, his regulator.

" Tsukasa-kun, you didn't happen to bring down any of my screwdrivers, did you?" He asked the blond, who was still much smaller than him. You wouldn't believe the sigh of relief he let out when Tsukasa nodded. " Could you hand it to me? I know that it might seem that I'd be clumsy with these large hands of mine, but I have a precise hand, fufu~" Rui smiled when Tsukasa handed him the screwdriver, he held it in his fingers for a few seconds in order to get the best possible grip on it before he plucked the collar from the counter. He eyed the latch carefully as he brought the screwdriver to it. He got to work on the latch. And if the author knew how to write about Rui fixing the latch, then they would absolutely do that, but they don't.

After Rui had fixed the latch, he stared down at the collar in his hand. He just needed to shrink down in order to put it on. But he was still nervous. So with a sigh he placed the device back onto the countertop, to Tsukasa's confusion. " Rui?" The blond asked, having found a nice spot to wait against Rui's ankle. Tsukasa had now moved from this position and had come closer to Rui himself. " Is something wrong?"

" Sorry, it's just... I won't be able to put it on unless I'm, y'know, regular sized again..." Rui explained, looking away from the blond. His attention was soon called back to Tsukasa however when he felt a tug on his cardigan, soon finding Tsukasa attempting the climb up the article of clothing. It was a cute sight to see, one that made Rui's heart swoon once more. It was like the little blond was climbing up a mountain, a mountain that could change size at any moment but still.

Soon, Tsukasa stood upon Rui's stomach, with Rui having to adjust himself slightly so Tsukasa wouldn't fall off. " Not to worry Rui! I will help you in anyway possible in order to restore your regular height!" Tsukasa proclaimed, it was a miracle that nobody had heard them. How thick were the bathroom walls anyways? Hopefully thick enough to conceal both their voices. He gave the blond boy a soft smile, already feeling a lot better.

And then he shrunk again, thus proven from a yelp by Tsukasa as the two fell to the floor. Tsukasa landed on top of the formerly gigantic director, who now only stood at around nine feet tall, almost knocking the wind out of the poor purple haired boy. " Are you alright Tsukasa-kun?" Rui asked, helping Tsukasa to a kneeling position on the ground by holding his shoulders. For a moment, Tsukasa's eyes looked like rapidly spinning yo-yo's before the blond shook his head to regain his focus.

" I'm fine!" Tsukasa replied, looking up at Rui. Rui hummed in reply, pulling the shorter in for a hug. The blond squeaked in surprise before reciprocating the cuddle semi-awkwardly before falling into it. It felt nice to be able to hold Tsukasa like this, with almost no worries. The tight feeling in his body had cooled down significantly, as it was no longer over taking each of his senses.

Of course, Rui Kamishiro can never have nice things since five seconds later he heard banging on the door. The first thought that came to his mind was to immediately hide. So he let go of the hug with Tsukasa, grabbing onto the blond's blazer pocket with one hand before instantly shrinking down enough to hide inside it. This of course, was a surprise to the blond who immediately gawked at Rui's sudden actions, of course, before Tsukasa could protest the teacher who'd been banging on the door moment's prior called out for them. Thus leaving Tsukasa to quickly scramble together a lie and hope that the teacher would believe it. Rui didn't really bother to listen to what the teacher and Tsukasa were saying, he was more focused on the comfort of Tsukasa's pocket.

It was nice, warm, and he could hear Tsukasa's heartbeat. It was also pretty dark though. He could hear Tsukasa getting scolded by the teacher for 'accidentally locking himself in the bathroom', poor Tsukasa, he'd certainly have to make it up to him later. Perhaps he could treat him some way? Take him on a date- friendly outing? Ah, right, he could only hope that Tsukasa took his regulator with him out of the bathroom as well. He could tell that by now they had left the bathroom because he could literally feel the vibrations that came with each of Tsukasa's steps. He could probably just fall asleep in here, Tsukasa wouldn't mind, right? The blond's blazer pocket simply had the downside of being too comfortable to resist the temptation. Tsukasa would probably wake him up for class...

probably.

[whatsthekink]

Hi! A gal I've been fooling around with has a knifeplay kink and I keep procrastinating when researching it to make sure I'm not doing anything dangerous, so I figured I'd ask if you have any resources to throw my way in case I continue to procrastinate. For the record, the few times we've had a knife in bed it's been a dull pocket knife and I've been pointing the sharp side away from anything vital when it's nearby, figured those were the base safety things I should do.

oh boy, knifeplay is a whole bag of beans if you want resources it's generally never a bad idea to just punch "[kink] resources" or "[kink] guide" into your search engine of choice you will probably find a blog or two with valuable articles on the topic you're looking for you'll likely also find some helpful discussions on forums or reddit posts

would be better if you did that quickly, knife play is one of the spicier kinks and can get fairly dangerous if you handle it poorly (get it, handle?) i'll give you a list of my personal safety tips so you know what to look out for but remember that being informed is vital to BDSM, especially with the riskier kinks i mean it, inform yourself well

anyway, here's the list:

as a beginner, it's better to use something knife-like rather than a real knife so you can get a feel on how to handle such a scene first

if you really want to use an actual knife, make sure you use either a fixed blade (preferably a full tang knife so the blade can't wobble) or if you use a folding knife it absolutely must lock in place

if the blade doesn't lock it can hurt you and your partner unexpectedly

do NOT use a serrated or jagged blade, even an improperly dulled blade can be jagged and cause mean tissue damage if you use cuts during knifeplay/bloodplay

if you dull a knife you should know what you're doing, reason stated above

the shorter the blade the more control you have over it, so better go for a smaller knife (but also don't ever use a karambit or similar curved blades)

daggers or other double edged blades are dangerous and not worth the risk

ensure you are not in a compromised position when handling a knife. if one of you tumbles, slips or falls you risk having an accident

make sure you communicate how both of you act when a blade is involved first. if the bottom in the scene thrashes around too hard it could also cause issues

it's not a toy, don't wave it around

if you cut your partner out of their clothing, point the blade away from them (and watch your hands and face while doing so)

the knife should be dry when handled so make sure it's not covered in lube or bodily fluids. also make sure your hands aren't too sweaty to interfere with your grip

put the knife in a safe spot, preferably sheathed or otherwise covered, when it's not in use

you have to know how to treat both smaller wounds as well as larger/deeper ones and have all necessary materials for treatment at hand (doing a first aid course is always a good idea)

rule above is for both aftercare and in case of an accident, because: accidents can always happen. knifeplay with a real knife is never 100% safe

and finally: know when to seek medical attention

very deep wounds, jagged wounds, continuous bleeding after applying pressure for a while, any gaping wounds need proper treatment or you will regret it

wounds on head, face, hands, joints and genitals should be at least closely monitored if you don't seek professional aid immediately

stay safe, friend! -steve

[aoibhinnslater04]

SOC x ACOTAR

Chapter 8: Hiding in the shadows

Word count: 2352

Trigger warnings: mind control, kidnapping

Next chapter I'm planning is the parley, and then gonna have an interlude where I reveal the villains- any guesses?

Nina wasn’t happy. First, Kaz woke her up an hour earlier than she planned on getting up, so he already wasn’t off to a good start. Second, he was now late to the very meeting he had demanded she attended. 

But most of the time he understood the consequences for disturbing her sleep, so she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt before she nailed his balls to his bed so, one way or another, he wouldn’t wake her again in a hurry. And who knows, that sleep deprived bastard could probably do with being stuck to the bed for a bit. 

Just as she was imagining this, the smell of waffles and chocolate drifted over to her. She sniffed the air, her nose high, before she heard, deadpan, “figures you would have your own secret power, Zenik. Only you would smell breakfast before I get here.”

Nina gave a half hearted shrug. “Figures you wouldn’t dare disturb me this early without breakfast, Brekker.”

Jesper nudged her gently. “No one with sense would wake you up without having breakfast, love, if they value their lives. But considering I happen to know both you and Wylan were up late with Kaz, maybe we should get this over with as soon as Inej gets here, hm?”

He directed this last part at Kaz, but Kaz shook his head instantly. “No. No Inej. I think… I think she’s being controlled by Rhysand.”

A few things happened directly after this statement. Nina sunk into the couch behind her, her chewing slowing down, her eyes going wide. Wylan and Matthias started arguing with Kaz, no WAY would Inej be taken over, they would have realised if she had been and fixed it, he’s made a mistake. But Jesper… he just stood there. His face turned pale, and Nina realised, with sudden alarm and a quick check of his pulse, that he was about to have a panic attack and he didn’t even realise it. So she put down her waffles, grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the room as his breathing quickened, pulling him into her room and pushing him down on her bed before his legs gave out first.

She then squatted before him, bracing against his legs and started exaggerating her breathing so he would start to follow. At first, she wasn’t sure he would be able to, as he looked like he was struggling to inhale at all. But she persevered, squeezing his legs gently to get him to look at her. And then they sat there, silently, until Jesper’s breathing matched Nina’s tempo, and they had both stopped shaking.

~~~~~

Azriel was pissed. He really did not want to go with Inej to find out information on this new couple. Rhys had seemed to find it curious that Brekker had such an interest in them, especially with all that was going on between both gangs currently. They must appear a risk, then. The only reason he was tolerating Inej right now was because Rhys told her to obey Azriel, and she would. 

Otherwise it would make him feel ill, working with a Crow. Everything they had done to his family since they arrived, taking Nyx, taking Truth-Teller, it was all too much. Which reminded him-”When you go back to the Crow Club tonight,” he said, turning to whisper to Inej, “make sure to grab the dagger you stole and bring it back to us tonight.”

The girl nodded, her face calm and blank. Azriel reckoned she was hardly taking in anything, and sighed inwardly before turning back to the house. Great. What was the use in her being here when she was this useless to him? 

But he didn’t have time to think about it right now- they needed to get inside and get as much information as possible before he had to make sure Inej got back ok to the Crow Club and that she knew what she could say without giving too much information.

As soon as he was positive that the guards had passed for their rotational shift, he hissed at Inej to follow him and ran. He hated being exposed, amongst ash trees of all things. He couldn’t help a little shudder of dread, although he doubted it meant anything. The only people who probably recognised they were Fae yet were the Crows, and there was practically no information out on what hurt Fae, no matter what was found on the Court of Dreams themselves. It was all oh, iron! Or, Fae can’t lie! The only thing possibly true they could find would be on ash trees, but unless they wanted to go hacking down trees in this garden they would struggle to find ash. And considering they wanted to learn about these people he doubted they would draw attention to themselves.

He told Inej to focus on the downstairs, while he flew up to a balcony and picked the lock on the door. As soon as he got inside he started feeling funny. No doubt a delayed reaction to the ash, he told himself, as he forced his legs to move forward. All he had to do was get information, get Inej, and get out.But when he sank to the ground, he got the strange sense that it mightn’t be that easy after all.

~~~~~

Wylan didn’t know what to expect when he saw the incoming call from Inej. He figured Rhysand had told her to call one of the Crows who mightn’t know her as well, and while he and Inej had a good friendship, it would never be close to what she had with Nina or Jesper, and he doubted anyone would ever know her quite as well as Kaz. So that left her with either Wylan or Matthias, and Matthias was far too suspicious. He was sure Inej knew it too, so that left her with Wylan. The gullible one. Well, she probably wouldn’t phrase it like that, she was too kind, but Wylan was the obvious choice. He called the other Crows into the room quickly, before picking up.

They could hear Inej breathing before anything else, as though she was out of breath. “Wylan?” she said quietly. Wylan gulped when the other Crows looked at him expectantly. “Heyyy Inej,” he choked out, suddenly nervous. “What’s up…girlfriend?” He saw Kaz glower at him, Jesper put his head in his hands, Nina looked away with a hint of laughter on her face. Matthias stood over him, stoic as always.

Well, if she didn’t think they suspected anything, she likely did now. Wylan could act. He knew he could. It had worked at the auction last month. But everything was different without Inej, or a solid plan. They’ve never had to work against her before, and she knew them. If Rhysand decided to get her opinion on anything, it could end really badly. Hopefully he wasn’t the trusting type.

“Wylan I need you to listen, I don’t know how long I have,” she whispered. They all tensed, leaning towards the phone. She didn’t sound possessed. 

“I’m being controlled by Rhysand. He got me the other night, when I was going to spy on the new house. I’m here now. Azriel is upstairs, he could come down any second. I need help. I don’t think I will stay free when I leave. So I need you, “she cuts off for a minute with a small sob, before continuing, voice shaking, “I need you to find some way to fix this properly. Nothing feels real anymore. I don’t even know if I’m actually talking to you or if this is a trick to see what I would do. I’m so, so scared.” And here she properly started to cry, each sob making Kaz flinch. Wylan spoke up, the others too in shock to say anything. “We’ve got you Inej, don’t worry. We’ll fix this. One way or another.”

They all looked at each other, coming to some silent agreement. This cat-and-mouse game they had going was at an end. Time for a parley. Let’s see what Rhysand and his gang wanted once and for all.

~~~~~

Inej gave herself a minute to cry before standing up after her phone call with Wylan. And, she assumed, the other Crows. She thought Kaz knew her too well to miss whatever Rhysand had her do, or say. But honestly, at this point, she was just ready to give up. She couldn’t stay here forever, although the thought of leaving and possibly being put under his spell again made her knees buckle in fear. She took in a few breaths, remembering, at least she got through to the Crows. They would help. They wouldn’t leave her with them. But… maybe they would? Maybe it, she, was too much hassle to spend their time on? 

No.

That was Rhysand talking, it had to be. 

Maybe she was broken. Maybe he had taken what was left of her heart and tore it to shreds, as well as her mind. But she needed to believe in them. She wasn’t sure she could believe in herself anymore.

She heard a soft voice, singing to a crying baby, as well as a few men muttering. More guards, probably. She hadn’t heard anything about them having a baby, she was sure. But clearly the people of the house were close, and she couldn’t let them catch her. Rhysand hadn’t hurt her physically, yet, at least. She wasn’t sure which was the lesser of the two evils yet, but she would rather stick with the devil she knew. Hopefully he wouldn’t realise she had broken free, so she wouldn’t need to tell him. Although she couldn’t deny how much her head and heart were aching, right now. Maybe it would be best… She didn’t hurt so much when he was in control. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand it.

As she was thinking this, disgusted with herself, she was making her way upstairs. Hopefully Azriel didn’t overhear her conversation. Either way…

She gasped before covering her mouth. Azriel was on the floor, his face pale and feverish, his chest hardly moving. She knelt before him, checking his temperature, before pulling off his top. She could see he was awake, but he was really struggling to open his eyes. She didn’t understand what had happened in the ten minutes they had been apart, but she didn’t want to leave him here. Something in here was sickening him, she didn’t know what, and despite their…issues… she couldn’t bring herself to leave him to die. She grabbed his muscular body and heaved, dragging him with her. It was almost impossible, but she persevered, wiping the sweat from her brow. She lugged him to the balcony, barely pausing to consider before she hauled him over it. It wasn’t too far, he would survive, if with a few bruises, she reckoned. 

Luckily, by the time she had climbed down a pipe beside it, his eyes were opening and he was conscious. She paused to help him up, about to help him across the lawn, before he put out a hand to stop her. She froze, watching as the shadows came towards them, before Azriel was pulling her against the wall. A second later, two guards rounded a far off corner, guns in hand. Had they gone when she tried to go, they would both have been shot. Once they passed, they both staggered to the gap in the hedge across the garden with trees and through it. 

Azriel looked at her, his brain not seeming to comprehend the last few minutes. “You… you shouldn’t have been able to do that. Not without me telling you to. Not that I’m complaining, you saved my ass, but...”

Inej started shaking, she didn’t know what to say, but luckily a wave of calmness came over her then, and she breathed out while she waited for Rhysand to take over. He would explain.

~~~~~

Rhys dragged a hand through his unruly hair. Nothing had worked out during Azriel and Inej’s job today. And, it looked like he couldn’t send either of them back too, because Az blacked out and Inej called her friends for help. So…shit.

He had looked through her mind, but nothing stuck out to him, bar the woman singing to the child. He had no idea what might have affected Az like that either, The ash wouldn’t affect him from inside the house, and the damn thing would have had to be built with Faebane to have such a strong effect. He couldn’t see any of the blue stones either in her memory, and they would have known if there was so much Faebane here anyway. But…

“Feyre!” He called to his mate. She came into the room where he was with Inej, a half finished smoke bomb in her hand. “What Rhys, I’m busy,” she replied, not even looking at Inej. He noticed she had struggled to look towards the girl ever since she had learned about her past, but he ignored it right now. “I’ve looked at her memories from today, but did you hear anything about these women having a child?”

Mor, who happened to be walking past, stuck her head in. “What do you mean? It’s a house with two women, and a shit ton of security. No child. Me or Amren would have discovered it by now.”

“Then I want to show you both what I saw,” he responded. They paused while he showed them Inej’s memory. And Feyre began to sob. “That’s Nyx,” she whispered. “I feel like I know that other voice too, but…That is definitely Nyx’s cry.”

Mor reached forward to hold Feyre’s hand, tears in her own eyes too. “What do you want us to do, Rhys,” she said, her voice cracking a little.

Rhys paused for a second. Inej’s cover had been blown. It was only a matter of time…

“Call Kaz Brekker. Let’s see if we can come to some sort of agreement.”

[geometricalien]

As the next (and only) heir of the Rakuzan kingdom, Seijūrō must find a bride before his upcoming 25th birthday, where he'll be officially crowned as the new King - otherwise he'd be considered ineligible. So when he visits a local diner belonging to the neighboring country of Seirin and meets a plain-looking brown-haired waiter who, for some reason, catches Seijūrō's attention, he might finally have a chance to qualify.

Kōki is a waiter at a small diner in the country of Seirin. For him, his current life is just fine...or at least that's what he keeps telling himself. But after he serves a customer who wishes to maintain their anonymity, Kōki finds his life is turning upside down. The unexpected part? He gets thrown into the lavish, glittering, and glamorous world of the royal Akashi family, where millions of people are now watching his every move. In order to survive, he must learn how to fit in and act like royalty because not everyone who smiles at him has the best of intentions and will stand by his side to support him.

Will the pressure of long-time tradition get to them and crumble their spirits? Or will they rise to the throne as Rakuzan's first two Kings in history and rewrite the laws?

I love a royalty au!!!

Okay, uh, this is my fault but what era are we talking about? Is this like classic nobility/medieval/european? Is this like modern? Slightly futuristic? Because it changes the vibe so much!

Medieval - Akashi coming into a tavern, cloak pulled high to hide the royal red hair which has become synonymous with the crown, his hands just a little too clean (a fact Furi notices when refilling his mug).

Modern (which from the word diner got me wondering about this in the first place) - Akashi's wearing sunglasses (indoors!? Only blind people and assholes wear sunglasses indoors! Excuse the spn reference agshhs) a cap pulled low- yes Akashi soooo inconspicuous 🙄. The low light in the diner at 1 am as Furi pours him coffee, a partly stained half apron around his waist, the flash of his teeth when he smiles like he genuinely cares about his customers??? , the slim slenderness of his wrists. When he sees Akashi rubbing his eyes in frustration and exhaustion he sidles over and asks what his favorite pie/cake is and gives it to him, "on the house", says he is "paying forward kindness" and "I can tell from your accent that are a long way from home." AND THEN THE MEDIA!!! GOD THE WAY I WANT THE MEDIA TO RIP INTO FURIHATA, DIVING INTO HIS PAST, TEAR HIM TO PIECES- WHO IS HE TO HAVE WON THE LOVE AND ATTENTION OF THE MOST ELIGIBLE BACHELOR IN RAKUZAN? HOW WILL PARLAMENT/THE SENATE REACT TO AKASHI'S CHOICE OF SPOUSE!?

Futuristic - god... the possibilities with this one.... like. The diner could be one of the last diners with actual waiters/waitresses and just- imagine Akashi going in with the latest technological device that projects a digital mask infront of his face?? The flickering of an old television blurring his facial characteristics, microcosmically shifting the projected blue- now green- black eyes- Furihata stopping in hesitation before his table "uh... are you here to rob us?" "No, my apologies. My device seems to have malfunctioned" please don't ask him to take it off, please don't ask him to take it off "oh- alright. Sorry about that. Hopefully you can get it fixed soon." And when they move in together I'm just imagining that the palace has all these cameras around constantly recording them and spreading their "happily married bliss" as national patriotic propaganda and Furihata isn't sure if Akashi means it when he kisses him or says I love you gahhhhhh

Which did you have in mind?

[maxverstepponme]

If they were actually as happy as she claims they are, she wouldn’t be trying to rub it on everyone’s faces. // They're one of the worst couples I've ever seen. If K's fans really cared about her they would tell her to snap out of this bad relationship and find a man who truly loves her and that she doesn't have to pretend for better engagement on IG that he's the best partner in the world, cuz Max is not that man for her and I'm sure of that after the interview where he said he "hopes" she's the one. If even after 2 years of living together he isn't sure, it's because she isn't. Max stays in this relationship for convenience and to not being alone, as he doesn't need to do anything but spend some money cuz he knows K will cope with his coldness and won't leave him. As another anon said here when he ignored her during the celebrations in Japan, no woman who's truly in a relationship for love would bear the cold way Max treats her. K does that cuz she's there for the fame, which is a sad thing for both sides. I'm sure she didn't post anything about the days they spent in Dubai after the Abu Dhabi GP and the welcoming party at his apartment cuz he must have spent the whole time with his friends and forgot she existed. When Max is happy, he doesn't celebrates with K. Just watch the many videos of them at parties. Max is always having fun with other people or on his own and ignoring K, and K herself has more fun when he's not around. At the beginning of the relationship they seemed to have genuinely happy moments together, but after summer '21, their relationship started to get more and more awkward and most of the times they don't even look like a couple anymore. I doubt they even have anything to chat at home, as Max is all about racing and video games, while K, even being the obnoxious person she is, has traveled the world, has a degree, and before turning being a wag her current "career", she worked on different jobs, from fashion to FE. I wouldn't be surprised that when Max gets tired of this relationship he will "pull a Charles" on her, in the sense of getting involved with another girl while he's committed and breaking up when he's ready to show the new girl like Charles did in the Giada-Charlotte drama, cuz both of these guys can't be alone. Max has also said in that interview that K comes from a racing family, therefore she understands his schedule, and that she has been to a lot of races in 2022, showing that by now, he's comfortable with their routine, so he's not going to change the way he treats her. Their relationship will last as long as he wants it to, and just consisting of him doing the minimum and K ignoring his cold behavior and being there when he wants it, so he's not alone, she can maintain her lifestyle and get a few moments of fame. I don't like K, she's a shitty person, but I hope she can find a nice guy who truly loves her, maybe that could help her to become a better person. I wish the same for Max. This relationship has no future. They are just using each othe for fame/company. Genuine happiness should be more important to K than fame (she could still find a man who can give her the fame and at least pretend he cares about her), just as Max should go to therapy to get his mommy/daddy issues fixed, so he can understand what true love really is, finally stop thinking that he can't be alone and that he has to "buy" the affection of others with wins and money. I will reinforce that this relationship will only end when he wants it just because K gets advantages from dating him, otherwise SHE would have dumped him a long time ago. I don't know how to explain, but for most of 2022 I've had the feeling that K is tired of him, and that it's been a "huge effort" for her to pretend that she cares about Max and she tries to cover this by cutely overposting him on IG and trying to look "supportive" when seen at the races, but everything looks fake. If he wasn't the reigning F1 champion, she would be gone by now

Damn nonnie