#Maybe not colored but still. Its a background comic explaining how they were friends as kiddos

[citrus-sours]

Sniffles, I'm really attached 2 weird kid bffs Honenuki nd Fujimi, sob sob

[meruz]

once again i am answering asks in a big compilation post. included is... gotham, patrick stump, tips about drawing backgrounds, tips about drawing in general, links to my faq, and infinity train

like.... the tv series? No... I’ve drawn dc comics fanart before, though. But it’s been years since I’ve been really into it. I like jumped ship like 10 years ago when the New 52 happened LOL.

AFJHDSLKGH I’m sorry I (probably) won’t do it again??

Actually full disclosure I have a truly cringe amount of p stump drawings/photo studies in my sketchbook right now LOL. He’s just fun to draw... hats, glasses, guitar, a good shape... but I don’t think I’ll rly post those until I can hide them in another big sketchbook pdf.. probably Jan 2022. Stay tuned........ (ominous) 

(ominous preview)

These are all sort of related to backgrounds/painting so I grouped them together even though they’re pretty much entirely separate questions.... ANYWAYS

a) How is it working as a BG artist? Is it hard? What show are you drawing for?

I think you’re the first person to ever ask me about my job! Being a background artist is great. It’s definitely labor intensive but I think that could describe pretty much any art job (If something were rote or easy to automate, you wouldn’t hire an artist to do it) and I hesitate to say whether its harder or easier than any other role in the animation pipeline. Plus, so much of what truly makes a job difficult varies from one production to the next, schedule, working environment, co-workers etc. But I will say that I think while BGs are generally a lot of work on the upfront, I think they’re subject to less scrutiny/revisions than something like character/props/effects design and you don’t have to pitch them to a room like boards. So I guess it’s good if you don’t like to talk to people? LOL

A lot of my previous projects + the show I’ve worked on the longest aren’t public yet so I can’t talk about em (but I assure you if/when the news does break I won’t shut up about it). But I’m currently working on Archer Season 12 LOL. I’m like 90% sure I’m allowed to say that.

b) ~~~THANK YOU!! ~~~

c) What exactly do you like to draw most [in a background]?

@kaitomiury​ Lots of stuff! I really like to draw clutter! Because it’s a great opportunity for environmental storytelling and also you can be kind of messy with it because the sheer mass will supersede any details LOL. 

I like to draw clouds... I like to draw grass but not trees lol,,, I like to draw anything that sells perspective really easily like tiled floors and ceilings, shelves, lamp posts on a street etc.

d) Do you have any tips on how to paint (observational)?

god there’s so much to say. painting is really a whole ass discipline like someone can paint their whole life and still discover new things about it. I guess if you’re really just starting out my best advice is that habit is more important than product. especially with traditional plein air painting, I find that the procedure of going outside and setting up your paints is almost harder than the actual painting. There’s a lot of artists who say “I want to do plein air sometime!!” and then never actually get around to doing it. A lot of people just end up working from google streetview or photos on their computer.

But going outside to paint is a really good challenge because it forces you to make and commit to lighting and composition decisions really quickly. And to work through your mistakes instead of against them via undo button.

My last tip is to check out James Gurney’s youtube channel because hes probably the best and most consistent resource on observational painting out there rn. There’s lots other artists doing the same thing (off the top of my head I know a lot of the Warrior Painters group has people regularly posting plein air stuff and lightbox expo had a Jesse Schmidt lecture abt it last year) but Gurney’s probably the most prolific poster and one of the best at explaining the more technical stuff - his books are great too.

e) Do you have tips for drawing cleanly on heavypaint?

@marigoldfool​ UMM LOL I LIKE ONLY USE THE FILL TOOL so maybe use the fill tool? Fill and rectangle are good for edge control as opposed to the rest of the heavy paint tools which can get sort of muddles. And also I use a stylus so maybe if you’re using your finger, find a stylus that works with your device instead. That’s all I’ve got, frankly I don’t think my drawings are particularly clean lol.

f) Tips on improving backgrounds/scenes making them more dynamic practicing etc?

Ive given some tips about backgrounds/scenes before so I’m not gonna re-tread those but here’s another thing that might be helpful...

I think a good way to approach backgrounds is to think of the specific story or even mood you want to convey with the background first. Thinking “I just need to put something behind this character” is going to lead you to drawing like... a green screen tourist photo backdrop. But if you think “I need this bg to make the characters feel small” or “I need this bg to make the world feel colorful” then it gives you requirements and cues to work off of.

If I know a character needs to feel overwhelmed and small, then I know I need to create environment elements that will cage them in and corner them. If a character needs to feel triumphant/on top of the world then I know I need to let the environment open up around them. etc. If I know my focal point/ where I want to draw attention, I can build the background around that.

Also, backgrounds like figure compositions will have focal points of their own and you can draw attention to it/ the relationship the characters have with the bg element via scale or directionality or color, any number of cues. I think of it almost as a second/third character in a scene.

Not every composition is gonna have something so obvious like this but it helps me to think about these because then the characters feel connected and integrated with the environment.

Some more general art questions

a) Do you have any process/tips to start drawing character/bodies/heads?

I tried to kind of draw something to answer this but honestly this is difficult for me to answer because I don’t think I’m that great at drawing characters LOL. Ok, I think I have two tips.

1) flip your canvas often. A lot about what makes human bodies look correct and believable is symmetry and balance. Even if someone has asymmetrical features, the body will often pull and push in a way to counterbalance it. we often have inherent biases to one side or another like dominant hands dominant eyes etc. you know how right-handed artists will often favor drawing characters facing 45 degrees facing (the artist’s) left? that’s part of it. so viewing your drawing flipped even just to evaluate it helps compensate for that bias and makes you more aware of balance.

2) draw the whole figure often. I feel like a lot of beginner artists (myself included for a long time) defer to just drawing headshots or busts because it’s easier, you dont have to think about posing limbs etc. But drawing a full body allows you to better gauge proportion, perspective, body language, everything that makes a character look believable and grounded.

Like if you (me) have that issue where you draw the head too big and then have to resize it to fit the proportions of the rest of the body, it’s probably because you (I) drew the head first and are treating the body as an afterthought/attachment. Sketching out the whole figure first or even just quick drawing guides for it will help you think of it more holistically. I learned this figure drawing in charcoal at art school LOL.

oh. third mini tip - try to draw people from life often! its the best study. if you can get into a figure drawing/nude drawing class EVEN BETTER and if you have a local college/art space/museum that hosts those for free TREASURE IT AND TAKE ADVANTAGE OF IT, that’s a huge boon that a lot of artists (me again) wish they had. though if youre not so lucky and youre sitting in a park trying to creeper draw people and they keep moving.. don’t let that stop you! that’s good practice because it’s forcing you to work fast to get the important stuff down LOL. its a challenge!

b) I’ve been pretty out of energy and have had no inspiration to draw but I have the desire to. Any advice?

Dude, take a walk or something.... Or a nap? Low energy is going to effect everything else so you gotta hit that problem at its source.

If you’re looking for inspiration though, I’d recommend stuff like watching a movie, reading a book, playing video games etc. Fill up your idea bank with content and then give yourself time/space to gestate it into new concepts. Sometimes looking at other art works but sometimes it can work against you because it’s too close. 

Also something that helps me is remembering that art doesn’t always have to be groundbreaking... like it’s okay to make something shitty and stupid that you don’t post online and only show to your friend. That’s all part of the process imo. If you want to hit a home run you gotta warm up first, right? Sports.

I should probably compile everytime i give tips on stuff like this but that’s getting dangerously close to being a social media artist who makes stupid boiled down art tutorials for clout which is the last thing i want to be... the thing I want to stress is that art is a whole visual language and there are widely agreed upon rules and customs but they exist in large part to be broken. Like there's an infinite number of ways to reach an infinite number of solutions and that’s actually what makes it really cool and personal for both the artist and the viewer. So when you make work you like or you find someone else’s work you like, take a step back and ask yourself what about it speaks for you, what about it works for you, what makes it effective, how to recreate that effect and how to break that effect completely, etc. And have a good time with it or else what’s the point.

for the first 2, I direct you to my FAQ

For the last one, I don’t actually believe I’ve ever addressed artwork as insp for stories/rp but I’ll say here and now yeah go ahead! As long as you’re not making profit or taking credit for my work then I’m normally ok with it. Especially anything thats private and purely recreational, that’s generally 100% green light go. I only ask that if you post it anywhere public that you please credit me.

(and I reserve the right to ask you to take it down if I see it and don’t approve of it’s use but I think that case is pretty rare.)

a) @lemuelzero101 Thank you!!! I haven’t played Life is Strange but actually  that series’ vis dev artist Edouard Caplain is one of my bigger art inspirations lately so that’s a really high compliment lol. And yeah I hope we get 5-8 too...!

b) Thank you for sticking around! I’ve been thinking about Digimon and Infinity Train in tandem lately, actually. They’re a little similar? Enter a dangerous alternate world and have wacky adventures with monsters/inanimate objects that have weird powers... there’s like weird engineers and mechanisms behind the scenes... also frontier literally starts with them getting on a train. Anyways if anyone else followed me for digimon... maybe you’d like Infinity Train? LOL

c) @king-wens-king I’M GLAD MY ART JUST HAS PINOY VIBES LOL I hope you are having a good day too :^)

a, b, c, d) yessss my Watch Infinity Train agenda is working....

e) aw thank you!! i think you should watch infinity train :)

[ikroah]

Whiskey river, take my mind, don't let her memory torture me. Whiskey river, don't run dry, you're all I got, take care of me. —“Whiskey River,” Shotgun Willie (1973)

It Keeps Right On a-Hurtin’ #15 - Vegas Outskirts

Collaborative Issue! Guest Colorist: @malpaislegate​ / @socksual-innuendos​

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Notes / Original Pencils / Transcript:

Notes:

MAN that’s gotta hurt!! Volume 2 kicks off with a bang, literally if you count the gunshot and honorifically if you count Socks’ knockout color job on this issue. Look at those lovingly rendered bullet wounds!! Muah!!!

It’s been a relief having a month off from the comic as I handled a bunch of other things but there’s a lot to look forward to in Volume 2, as you can probably tell from that very forboding fist clench at the end there. Will Agnes and Cass get the revenge they’re looking for? Can they make it big in Vegas? Will it keep right on a-hurtin’? Find out next ish as Cass leads Agnes to meet the first of their new “friends.”

Original Pencils:

The pencils for this issue are like an autopsy report of all the things that can go wrong with your art if you don’t plan ahead and pay attention. Listen, friend, to my tale of woe, and learn from my mistakes so they don’t become yours!

First, you can see a lot of places where there’s floating objects, empty backgrounds, and incomplete heads. Part of this is because I always intended to just copy and paste repeated elements across each panel instead of drawing them multiple times, but other times I was forced to just because of my lack of planning. The top three panels on page two, for example, required me to draw the background I’d use for them on a separate page.

Second, you can probably tell that I actually had to flip the two raiders around in the final lineart because I forgot to keep the hands their were holding their guns in consistent—and since I couldn’t flip the middle panel on the second page without ruining the composition, I decided to flip all of their other appearances so that they’d be lefties. I doubt you even can seamlessly wield those particular guns left-handed.

Third, the size of the cart that Agnes and Cass are kneeling behind changes CONSTANTLY and is dramatically oversized from the third page onward. After inking these pages, it took a lot of work to correct the inks and shrink that cart in each panel, but fortunately it came out looking good.

And finally, I completely redrew the second panel on the fifth page because it wasn’t until I had already handed he pages off to my colorist that I realized having a second profile shot of Cass so soon after a first one was just...redundant and lazy-looking. So I went back to my sketchbook and whipped up a much more unique, striking angle (I also just wasn’t satisfied with the quality of my art on that panel, so I’m very glad I redrew it). But again, my failure to plan ahead bit me in the ass and my redraw attempt wound up taking up a lot more space than I thought it would, so after inking it I had to basically surgically remove it from the other inks.

I’ll be honest with you folks: part of the reason that I work in such simple, thick, high-contrast lineart is because it’s very easy to make corrections and adjustments with stuff you could technically color in Microsoft Paint.

Transcript:

EXT. SOMEWHERE IN THE MOJAVE, morning. AGNES SANDS and ROSE OF SHARON CASSIDY stand over the wreckage of a caravan, scattered over a dirt road.

CASS: Hell.

EXT. SOMEWHERE ELSE IN THE MOJAVE, midday. Looking over a second wrecked caravan, at the bottom of a ditch.

CASS: Fuck.

EXT. PRE-WAR HIGHWAY OUTSIDE OF VEGAS, mid-afternoon. AGNES and CASS survey a third wrecked caravan.

CASS: Shit. The proof is in the pudding. Or the pile of ash, rather. These attacks were done with Van Graff guns for Crimson Caravan caps. I'm sure of it.

As CASS explains her theory to AGNES, a short distance from the caravan two RAIDERS peer at the two of them from inside a barn at a ruined farmstead. They have snake-bite tattoos on the sides of their shaved heads and are holding rifles.

CASS: The scorchmarks and residue in the wreckages? That's energy weapon shit. Plasma and laser. Silver Rush special. Not like it'd be the Brotherhood. And Crimson Caravan must have bankrolled this fucked-up little hunting trip themselves.

The RAIDERS move out from the barn, sneaking up on two passers-by who’ve stopped at the caravan wreckage.

CASS: That explains why they bought me out...they needed the last loose end to saddle up back west with a tidy sum.

(NOTE: *Agnes delivered it and Cass signed it in IKROAH #7—Lou.)

CASS: It's a racket, Agnes: torch the local competition and it's win-win for both the f—

SFX: KRAK

A gunshot rips out from one of the RAIDERS’ rifles and sears across CASS’ shoulder.

CASS (gasping): —uckers.

CASS slumps down beneath the overturned caravan wagon on the road, clutching her shot shoulder.

CASS: —Aaggghghhhhhhh.

AGNES: Cass! Are you—

CASS: Fuck! Agnes, get down you moron!

AGNES ducks behind the cover of the wooden caravan wagon just as another gunshot splinters the top lip of it.

SFX: DTHWAK!

The RAIDERS advance on CASS and AGNES’ position, firing at them from off the road.

SFX: KRAK

AGNES leans over the top of the wagon with her pistol, returning fire.

SFX: BTAK BTAK BTAK

AGNES lands a shot right in one of the RAIDERS’ guts, and she drops her weapon and falls down.

SFX: SPLUT

CASS, leaning out the side of the wagon, takes as careful of aim as she can with her shotgun by holding it with her good arm. Trembling, she fires, connecting with the other RAIDER.

SFX: KBLAM

The would-have-been RAIDERS are dead.

AGNES: ...were those the Van Graffs?

CASS: No. Just some vultures.

CASS leans back behind cover to sit against the bottom of the overturned wagon again, wincing from her shoulder injury.

CASS: Ugghhn.

AGNES (slipping off duffel bag): Cass, your shoulder—

CASS: Yeah, it's been shot. I'm pretty fucking aware.

AGNES (unzipping bag): Quick, can you take your shirt off—

CASS: What!?

AGNES: —so I can dress the wound, Cass!

CASS: Oh! Good! So you weren't coming onto me on what remains of Griffin Wares Caravan.

CASS starts removing her shirt while AGNES produces a bottle of something from her duffel bag, and dampens a rag with its contents.

CASS: And since when are you a fucking field medic, anyway?

AGNES: 2269. NCR Certified.

CASS: What?

AGES: Yeah. I've been one kind of doctor or another since I was six.

CASS: What?

AGNES: Now hold still, this is antiseptic.

CASS: Since you were six!? I...shit, wait, hang on, Agnes—

AGNES pressess the rag onto CASS’ shoulder wound, and CASS winces instinctively. But, confusingly, there isn’t any pain.

CASS: ...isn't this supposed to sting like hell?

AGNES: No, not really. It's an acetic acid solution. Vinegar, basically.

AGNES begins cleaning the wound with the rag.

CASS: I thought you put alcohol on wounds to clean them.

AGNES: That's...a common misconception. It's good for tools, maybe, but too strong for skin. And it can complicate healing if you apply it directly.

CASS: So you're telling me, all my years, I've been wasting good whiskey only making my boo-boos worse?

AGNES: I mean...it's better than nothing in a pinch, but...

CASS: Well, then. Thanks for the lecture, doc. Can you just pass the whiskey anyway? Shoulder still hurts like hell regar—

AGNES hands her the whiskey bottle. She’d already gotten it out.

CASS: —dless. Oh. Thanks.

AGNES unspools a roll of bandages in her hands, then begins wrapping it over CASS’ shoulder and across her chest..

AGNES: So. It's a relatively minor wound, more of a deep graze than a real gunshot.

CASS: You'd know all about real gunshots, huh?

AGNES (unfazed): Uh-huh. I can suture it if necessary, but for now, these bandages will be fine. Just hold still. How do you feel?

CASS: I feel fucking pissed, Agnes!

AGNES recoils, taken aback slightly.

CASS: As I was saying before I got shot in the shoulder—which, however "minor" the wound, is real fucking close to my head, Agnes—this wasn't some random attack. These caravans, my caravan, got hit by the Van Graffs and Crimson Caravan. It ain't just some tragedy anymore. Now I've got names. Places. Faces.

AGNES resumes bandaging CASS.

CASS: I told you—ow! Don't pinch my tit, dammit—

AGNES: I said hold still.

CASS: —I told you, when you told me about this guy who shot you...when I let you drag me out of that fucking outpost...and when we went to Boulder City...that I would do the exact same thing in your shoes. Now, it is the exact same thing. This fucker shoots your eye out, these fuckers ash my caravan...these same fuckers I sold my own goddamn name to on a piece of paper. I mean...what else are we doing out here, Agnes? Getting shot at by Khans and Raiders just for kicks? Are we just fucking around?

AGNES finishes bandaging CASS, then leans back, pensive.

AGNES: No...no, I really guess we’re not.

CASS: That's what I thought. Your friend in Vegas can wait. Help me get mine, and we can get that shitheel together, and that's a prom—

CASS raises her arm  to shake her fist as she speaks, straining her shoulder injury.

CASS: —mmmmmmghhhh. Ooww, oww, oww, oww...

CASS grabs her shoulder in pain while AGNES looks off in the distance and stands up. She looks out towards the horizon—towards VEGAS, and the pre-war casinos and hotels that still gleam and glitter in blinding sunlight.

Her fist clenches. Her brow furrows. Her body tenses, all over, staring at that city, that place.

The caravan wreckage remains alone on the highway, brahmin bones long picked clean by scavengers.

AGNES SANDS IN: IT KEEPS RIGHT ON A HURTIN’

VOLUME 2: MAKE IT BIG IN VEGAS

[doomarchives]

David Annandale’s The Harrowing Of Doom: An In-Depth Review

So, I was kindly offered an advance reviewer’s copy of The Harrowing of Doom by David Annandale for the Marvel Untold series, a new prose line revolving around Marvel’s villains. Although I’m not personally familiar, the author’s prior written work and academic scholarship indicated a strong background in fantasy, science fiction, as well as horror film and literature - all essential elements of Doom himself honestly, whether in his character, design, or formative influences. A promising start from the outset! 

To no one’s surprise, I was especially excited for this one. Doctor Doom is both my favorite Marvel character and area of nerdy comics expertise, and Annandale sounded like the perfect candidate to tackle him. 

The Harrowing of Doom centers around a conflict familiar to those who know the character. Taking place fifteen years after his ascension to the throne, Victor von Doom is still hellbent on rescuing the soul of his mother, Cynthia, trapped in hell by the demon Mephisto. His yearly attempts to save her have been fruitless thus far, but he believes he can really do it this time, enlisting the help of a new character, Maria von Helm, and some of his lesser known subjects (also new characters) to accomplish the task, by building a machine called The Harrower. The noble scheme is further complicated by the reappearance of Prince Rudolfo Fortunov, son of the monarch deposed and murdered by Doom years prior, who is equally determined to take back what he believes is his birthright by any means necessary. The novel is a relatively dense and detailed one, and as a true blue Doom enthusiast, I have a dense and detailed review to match.

The first thing that I personally take note of in any material involving Doom is the author’s perspective on the truth of Latveria’s “benevolent dictatorship.” It immediately speaks volumes about a writer’s perception of Doom’s accountability and sense of morality; it kind of ends up coloring his entire characterization. That being said, I was really pleased by the evenhandedness with which Annandale treats Doom’s Latveria and his influence upon his subjects. It slots in neatly with some of the greats, Lee & Kirby, Jonathan Hickman, Roger Stern, etc with the acknowledgement that Doom is indeed a despot with an iron fist and a will absolute, but one who cares for the wellbeing of his country. Through dialogue from his subjects like the skittish Father Grigori Zargo and diehard loyal Captain Kariana Verlak, the reader gets the sense that Doom’s rule may be the best leadership Latveria has ever known. (A brief aside: another great strength of The Harrowing of Doom that has to be mentioned is the fleshing out of these different original characters. Maria von Helm was a particularly welcome addition, as a close friend of Doom’s mother and a far more empathetic magic user compared to him.)

Verlak is openly married to Dr. Elsa Orloff, a trans woman and neurosurgeon of international renown. Both of them had experienced the Fortunov rule that predated Doom’s, with Orloff even having fled Fortunov’s Latveria when she first come out as transgender, in fear of his tyrannical rule and the dangerously transphobic legislature he enforced called “The Laws of the Person.” It is apparent that Doom exists in obvious juxtaposition to the prior ruler’s bigotry. Beyond the total erasure of all previous discrimination and state-enforced bigotry, he has Verlak appointed in a role of great prominence, gave Orloff the tools she needed to succeed in her field, and even shares an exchange with her where he remarks that he knows her from her publications in the Lancet Neurology and that he appreciates them for their “speculative” approach. In an excellent exchange between Father Zargo and the rebel Prince Fortunov, the priest, who is by far Doom’s number one fan, explains Doom’s mesmerizing hold on the populace and the benefits they reap from his rule, despite it being a despotic one:

“I’ll be explicit, all the same,” said Zargo. “Doom is a sun king, even more fully than Louis XIV ever was. Latveria is a world power. How? Because of Doom and only because of Doom. Latveria’s strength and its wealth come from his inventions. And the beams of his sun touch every citizen. Universal basic income, free healthcare, free schooling, free universities, free training to the highest level of your calling - all of these things flow from Doom.”

“Free?” Fortunov snarled.

“The price is obedience, yes,” said Zargo, “And yes, Doom is feared.” Zargo stopped himself from saying Vladimir was feared and hated. [...] “Even though Doom is feared, he also is Latveria in every sense that matters.”

What I really appreciated was the author’s ability to walk the tightrope of acknowledging how beneficial Doom is for the country and his protectiveness over his domain, whilst also acknowledging Doom’s intense paternalism that ultimately favors his own goals. Doom, as well-read comic fans would know, is heralded as one of Marvel’s master manipulators. It’s a great strength of this novel to see him exerting his willpower and the strength of his personality to manipulate and sometimes, fully overpower that of his subjects. Father Zargo is definitely the most profound victim of this, a man with ties to both the church and the occult. Through the novel, Doom insistently pushes him towards the latter, his priorities made clear in one sentence: “The work was what mattered. Zargo’s soul was not Doom’s concern.” An especially interesting scene occurs later in the novel. Without too much elaboration, Doom performs an experiment where he uses the old Latverian nobility as guinea pigs.  This was something I immensely liked, corroborating one of my own personal perceptions of Doom. It’s always made sense to me that Doom would continue to hold a certain amount of disdain for Latverian high society, even after he went from low class Romani boy to monarch himself. 

(“The Fantastic Origin of Doctor Doom,” Fantastic Four Annual #2.)

Afterwards his partner, Maria von Helm, muses aloud that she always wondered why Doom let vestiges of the old regime remain, to which Doom responds: “Now you know. The aristocracy has its uses, and the advantages of being disposable.” It’s maybe my favorite example in the book of the exceptions to Doom’s purported benevolence. He does want the country to flourish and for his subjects to prosper, but this intent can be superseded by his innately ambitious nature and his own personal biases. It’s clear at several points in the book that Annandale is obviously well-read on Doom himself, but it was especially in the capturing of this nuance that it really stuck out to me in a big way. (As well as the fun reference to Doom’s brief jaunt in the French Riviera in Supervillain Team-Up!)

Outside of this core aspect of his characterization, I really enjoyed how the novel not only built up Doom’s cult of personality, but emphasized the sheer magnetism of Doom himself, in person. Constantly, characters find themselves buffeted by strength of his will, craving his approval or cowering and scrambling to avoid his displeasure. It’s a great true-to-character depiction of interactions between Doom and Latverian citizens, dynamics that were only touched upon briefly in the periphery of most comics involving Doom. I think, ironically, this is also perhaps the source of one of the novel’s few weaknesses. By keeping the book very Latveria-focused, Annandale does an excellent job of adding world-building on every level, from expounding on Latverian national holidays to the layouts of Doomstadt to the country’s storied history with witches predating Doom and his mother. But the fact that Doom mostly interacts with those beneath him or those who work for him gives the reader a bit of a myopic, overtly flattering perspective of him as almost too certain, too powerful, too unfeeling. I suppose it serves the scope of the novel for Doom to be more an obelisk of a man than fully well-rounded, but I contest that one of the best things about his character is that his indomitable exterior hides a deep well of pain and uncertainty. 

(“In The Clutches of Doctor Doom,” Fantastic Four #17.)

(“Oath of Fealty,” Doctor Doom #7.)

The novel obviously perceives Doom as Byronic, there’s even excerpts from Manfred interspersed between chapters that I greatly enjoyed, but I did find the heart of the Byronic character a little lacking here. Where Manfred bares his soul alone in monologue or to others, Doom, for the most part, does not. There are definitely brief allusions to the trials he’s faced, but he seems rarely prone to doubt or vulnerability until the very end. (For example, the central task is the attempt to rescue Cynthia von Doom’s soul, but little time is spent dwelling on this very human connection between mother and son.) Or even self-admitted imperfection! Interestingly, I only ever caught one mention of his scars in the entire novel. 

The Harrowing of Doom seems to prescribe to the line of thought that the mask is the only true face of Doom’s that matters, but I think with that philosophy, it stays firmly within the character’s own comfort zone. And his psyche never feels truly challenged, because there’s no worthy challenger. Doom knows without a doubt that he is Fortunov’s superior, so there’s no real interpersonal friction there. It left me keenly interested in seeing how the author would write Doom in the presence of someone like Reed Richards, an opponent who has historically brought out Doom’s baser instincts and invoked his self-doubt, drawing out his flaws and humanity in the process. Hopefully Marvel approves a sequel!

Doubtlessly, it’s still a strong entry into Marvel’s Doom canon and an excellent read for anyone who enjoys the character and is familiar with his history. The novel gives a sprawling, detailed look at Latveria and fleshes out both country and countrymen with aplomb. I took real delight at the indirect peeks at Doom’s personality through other characters’s observations or simple exposition. Some notable examples include Doom’s occult librarian wondering if he had been appointed out of spite of his witch-hunter ancestry, Zargo noting the west wing of Werner Academy was dedicated to clinical research in a nod to Werner von Doom’s work as a healer, and my favorite: the paintings within Castle Doom being impressionistic depictions of Doom’s ancestors, “people long buried, long forgotten, and in their lifetimes ignored or worse.”  

The conflict also moves at an engaging, brisk pace and smartly takes advantage of the widely known fact that Doom is preoccupied every Midsummer Night and turns that into an opening to be exploited by Fortunov, who also is well characterized throughout the novel and even experiences his own personal growth.

(“Though Some Call It Magic!”, Astonishing Tales #8)

Essentially, the product is a great novel about Doctor Doom influenced by strong comic lore knowledge, Gothic and Romance literature, horror cinema (According to the author, Doom’s lab is modeled after the lab from The Bride of Frankenstein!), and fantasy. If that sounds like something up your alley, definitely check it out. It gets a wholehearted recommendation from me. 

About Marvel Entertainment

Marvel Entertainment, LLC, a wholly-owned subsidiary of The Walt Disney Company, is one of the world’s most prominent character-based entertainment companies, built on a proven library of more than 8,000 characters featured in a variety of media for over eighty years. Marvel utilizes its character franchises in entertainment, licensing, publishing, games, and digital media.

For more information visit marvel.com. © 2020 MARVEL

[youngbugandtonystank]

how would you rewrite spideychelle in ffh and/or hoco?

I’ll answer this one with this ask:

I was reading your answers and... why is zendaya not mary jane w?? when you said it i never really thought about this because i was more excited about infinity war and the avengers but now... its the last spiderman movie and we know nothing about her character? i thought she was supposed to be something new and big like z said? whats going on??? 

Well, first of all, I would give Zendaya the original title of Mary-Jane Watson, I still believe it was racist not to give her this position. From what I understand, there was a rumor going around (2016) that the reason they didn’t give her the MJ title is because Stan Lee had it contracted that they couldn't race swap Mary Jane or Peter Parker, so they changed her name to Michelle Jones and made a different character while treating her as their version of what is supposed to be a homage to the comic character. The thing is, Marvel fought Sony really hard to get Peter into the MCU (in their own terms), so why not offer the lead lady the same treatment? I’m pretty sure they would do it for Gwyneth or Elizabeth Olsen. Also, the rumor doesn’t make sense because Stan Lee himself said this about the situation: ‘If she is as good an actress as I hear she is, I think it’ll be absolutely wonderful’

Gwyneth Paltrow is Pepper Potts and her character is called Pepper Potts. Scarlett Johansson is Natasha Romanoff and she’s called Natasha or Black Widow. Natalie Portman is Jane Foster and the character is called Jane Foster. Why change Zendaya’s character? 

‘She's not Mary Jane Watson. She never was Mary Jane Watson. She was always this new high school character, Michelle, who we know there's an 'M' in Michelle and an 'M' in Mary.’ - Kevin Feige.

‘She’s not Mary Jane, she’s this weird girl.’ - Tom Holland. 

In every interview, I feel second-hand embarrassment for her when the interviewers ask about character development for Michelle and she has to make mental gymnastics to answer and every time the convo comes back to romance and Peter; how Peter makes her feel, how she behaves around Peter, how Peter’s life is, how her character revolves around him. Even if Zendaya wanted to play the ‘I’m not like the other girls’ quirky loner girl, she could’ve been Mary Jane with that personality too. And what I’m going to share next is just my opinion and nothing is confirmed (just making sure because some people lack common sense lmao) I believe they fooled Zendaya and told her she created this original revolutionary character for girls, where Zendaya in almost all interviews states that ‘it’s ok to be weird, to not be like the other people and it’s fine to be’ etc, etc. But the thing is, that individualism and character traits she’s putting into the character don’t really matter because her character was treated as a love interest only. She couldn’t explore that individual part of her character because she’s written as ‘Peter’s observant’ friend and that is not a trait. Look at what they actually made her believe:

"My character is not romantic," Zendaya replied when asked if she would romance Peter on-screen. "My character is, like, very dry. Awkward. Intellectual. And because she's so smart, she just feels like she doesn't need to talk to people."

"I was lucky because they already kind of wanted to re-create the character and turn her into a new version of what I think maybe the original Mary Jane character represented, and just do it in our own way in this Marvel Cinematic Universe." - Zendaya. (Well, the MCU also has their own version of Peter Parker and they don’t call him Perkin Park; a homage to Peter Parker lmaoooo)

She went there thinking she would have a badass intellectual female character only to end up being the love interest without background, development or storyline. Let’s for a moment compare her to one of the extra characters, like Betty (no offence lmao) or some other decathlon kid; what’s the real difference between her and them? An intellectual is a person who engages in critical thinking; Betty and the other kids are like that too given the kind of school they attend. Awkward? All kids are like that. Smart? lmaooo same as before, they’re in a school full of smart people. She knew Peter was Spider-Man and that makes her special? She said she wasn’t even 100% sure about it and was surprised when Peter confirmed LMAO Betty was suspecting this in FFH, some of his classmates knew something was going on with him to the point one of them thought he was a male escort. There’s no real difference except that she’s playing Peter’s girlfriend. 

And I happen to think all of this is because fans don’t care about that development or the fact that a black character could be a lead lady with an interesting plot (just like they did with Tessa Thompson in Thor, Natalie Portman, Gwyneth Paltrow, Scarlett Johansson, Elizabeth Olsen, etc). She’s been playing this character for 4 years and Michelle has 0 character development, no storyline, no background. How is that something they could use as a way to bring depth into the character? They can’t, because they didn’t actually care about the things Zendaya mentioned, they wanted her stardom and popularity to boost the movie. The fact that people started shipping her with Tom Holland helped to that reputation and promotion.

how would you rewrite spideychelle in ffh and/or hoco?

I would do exactly this: MCU’s what if’s + Michelle Jones is Nick Fury’s niece. Now, THIS is an interesting storyline, where a teenage girl is Fury’s niece, not exactly an agent but someone with a vast knowledge of espionage. This would explain why she was stalking Peter without taking away the fact that she might have a little crush on him and this line;

MJ: I don’t really have much luck when it comes to getting close to people. Um… so I lied. I wasn’t just watching you ‘cause I thought you were Spider-Man.

would’ve been more interesting with that plot in mind. This with the fact that Fury is probably training her to be an agent or to be the next director of SHIELD in the future, not only this allows her to form a much deeper connection with Peter (who is Spider-Man and struggles with a double life and responsibilities) but it would give her character depth, and a particular insight that the other spider-man girls didn’t have (this would attribute to the ‘not like the other girls’). This could’ve been done without removing the personality traits Zendaya wanted in Michelle.

Fury was involved in the second movie and this would allow their weird contract to keep someone from the avengers or related to them in the movies without having to make Happy or any others participate in them. If they wanted an original character they would’ve given her a better position in it but they didn’t, the real reason they changed her name is because dudebros and extreme comic fans couldn’t stand the thought of having a black girl as a female lead in a Spider-Man movie. They wouldn’t dare to ruin their perfect comic book MJ image, which, btw, Zendaya could’ve pulled off as well. 

As Kevin said;

‘And then I think it leaked that she would be playing MJ and then it became a whole headache for Zendaya to have to navigate. It was never a big, 'Oh my God, it's a big reveal!' There are big reveals in the movie. That's not one of them’ - Kevin.

Why should it be a headache for her? Why didn’t they fight for her character instead of avoiding the real problem? lmaoo this is clearly Marvel having fear of a big backlash that shouldn’t exist in the first place. Her skin color shouldn't be a big thing that she has to deal with or navigate through.

This could even allow her character to have a disney+ series to explore more about her and Fury’s family. I hope that No Way Home gives her character more screen time in terms of her independent development but as I’ve said before, I highly doubt this is possible if NWH is the last standalone spiderman movie in the MCU. 

You have Zendaya wishing to see a black Mary Jane; 

Zendaya would love to see a black Mary Jane, even if she doesn't play her. "People are going to react over anything, but of course there's going to be outrage over that because for some reason some people just aren't ready." 

You see this, along with Laura Harrier thinking that she was afraid Disney wouldn’t allow her to be in the same movie as Zendaya because she believed Disney would never handle two black girls in the same movie and still think there’s nothing wrong with the way they handled things? Only because of the typical opinion: ‘these are high school sweethearts, she’s only there to be a cute character and they already have too much diversity in the cast, it’s not that deep’ lmao 

Btw, read this, it’s worth reading: Michelle Jones: A Disrespect to Zendaya And The Mary Jane Character?

[bulgariansumo]

The Messy Relationship Between Sonic and Localization

Ask any Sonic fan and they’ll tell you that the fandom is one of the most fractured things to ever exist. It’s a miracle whenever we can all agree, and that usually comes from us collectively hating something (Sonic Movie’s original design, Ken Penders, etc.)--and even then, there’s a dedicated few who disagree. Many of us have such differing opinions on what the series “should” be, that satisfying all--or even a majority--of Sonic fans is next to impossible. How did it get this way? I think it has a lot to do with localization.

Classic Era

The 1990’s wasn’t the best decade when it came to localizing anything, especially not video games. Often, some creative liberties would be taken when adapting a source from Japanese to English.  The Sonic franchise was no exception to this. The first split comes from the game manuals. Me and @rontufox​ already made a post discussing this, but the Japanese manuals gave a little background info on the series’ lore and worldbuilding. The English versions gave a bare-bones description of the premise of each game, but that’s about it. There were no mentions of an apocalypse caused by people misusing the Chaos Emeralds, of Sonic finding the ring that would foreshadow Knuckles Chaotix, or of Knuckles thinking the Death Egg was a ‘Dragon’s Egg’ described in ancient legends. Sonic went to a bunch of colorful zones, beat up Dr. Robotnik, collected some magic stones, and maybe a new character or two would tag along, but there was nothing else to it. There was no dialogue and few cutscenes in the games at this time, so the English localizers could get away with this.

Since there wasn’t much to go on games-wise, English fans at the time got their perception of Sonic and his world from various comic and cartoon adaptations. The American-produced ones portrayed Sonic as an in-your-face smart aleck who was almost completely full of himself. The UK-produced Sonic the Comic starred Sonic as a self-described “cool guy” who cared little about the people around him, including friends. Whatever worldbuilding these adaptations had either didn’t exist or diverged completely from the games, because the writers, even if they did care, didn’t have much to go on. There also weren’t a lot of Japanese Sonic adaptations at the time, and the only one that got localized was Sonic the Hedgehog: The Movie (aka Sonic OVA). To English-speaking fans, Sonic was an arrogant but funny hedgehog who despite everything, got the job done. Aside from Dr. Robotnik, other characters were an afterthought and could be replaced as needed.  

Adventure Era

Sonic Adventure released in 1998 with fully voice-acted cutscenes, and localization differences started catching up. Some things were easy to fix, such as Dr. Eggman (Robotnik’s name in Japanese) being a nickname for Dr. Robotnik. Other things weren’t that simple. For instance, some of those little things mentioned in the Japanese manuals started showing up again, specifically the apocalypse caused by people misusing the Chaos Emeralds. Sonic Adventure was a soft-reboot, where most previous characters and worldbuilding are still there, but some details are left behind so that newcomers have an easier time entering the series. There also might be changes in the series’ tone. For example, Sonic Adventure was somewhat more serious than previous games could be, but still overall lighthearted. This was also the first of many mainline games during this time to have an ensemble cast. Instead of just playing as Sonic, or maybe Tails and Knuckles, you were required to play all three of them plus other characters, with different stories and gameplay styles. This was a tall task, but these games pulled it off well enough to be very popular at the time. Themes of friendship became very prominent in the games around this time, and to further cement it, Sonic X, a Japanese-produced anime came out and got localized in the United States. Sonic was still a little cocky in English dubs of the games and anime, but he was also free-spirited and very supportive of his friends instead of being preoccupied with being the coolest person in the group. For the most part, his English and Japanese portrayals were nearly indistinguishable. Other characters also got more screentime and focus on their personalities, and popular new characters like Shadow and Rouge were introduced to the cast. All was going great.

Then 2006 came around. Shadow the Hedgehog and Sonic the Hedgehog (aka Sonic 06) came out, ushering in a period of very poorly received Sonic games, the latter being seen as a contender for the worst game of all time. Shadow the Hedgehog was an attempt at explaining why the titular character was alive after apparently being killed off Sonic Adventure 2, but the gritty and somewhat melodramatic tone was seen as ill-fitting for the Sonic franchise. The gameplay was also lacking, in part due to other characters tagging along with Shadow and repeatedly telling him hints and mission objectives. The problem of characters talking a lot mid-gameplay was present in Sonic Heroes, but the gameplay itself was passable enough that the game didn’t completely suffer for it. Shadow the Hedgehog tied up the last plot threads the Sonic Adventure series left behind, so the series had to go somewhere different. Sonic 06 was another soft-reboot, so that newcomers wouldn’t have to study up on the games from Sonic Adventure to Shadow the Hedgehog. Because the game was rushed for the holiday season, it was glitchy, didn’t feel good to play, and the writing was… very flawed. The game’s tone was slightly lighter than Shadow the Hedgehog, but still a little too melodramatic for most fans.

With all of these changes in mind, further splits in the English-speaking fandom occurred. Many vocal Classic fans were thrown off by the series being heavier on plot, worldbuilding, and Sonic’s friends. They wanted to go back to a time when none of that existed, and when Sonic was just an arrogant jokester--a time that only existed in 90’s US and UK. Newer, Adventure-era fans grew up with these new changes and loved them, though many of them were also not happy with Shadow the Hedgehog and subsequent games’s handling of these things. Because of Shadow the Hedgehog and Sonic 06’s spectacular failure in handling different characters’ gameplay, one sentiment was repeatedly echoed--that only Sonic should be playable. Since then, with very few exceptions, only Sonic has been playable in mainline Sonic games. This still wasn’t enough to save the games. Games after Sonic 06 often had a core gimmick to them, many of which weren’t received well, and the ones that were got replaced by the next game. The writing had the same feeling to it, though. It shied away from the melodrama of the most hated entries, but still retained the sincerity of entries like Sonic Adventure.

Modern Era

That changed in 2011 with Sonic Colors. Instead of Sonic Team writing the games, they hired Ken Pontac and Warren Graff, two American writers known for working on Happy Tree Friends. Neither had much knowledge of the previous games’ characters, worldbuilding, or stories, but this was intentional. Sonic games sell less in Japan, so Sega probably wanted to put more focus into pleasing audiences in America and Europe. The two went off some basics about the characters and setting, and what little they knew previously. There is some supervision by Takeshi Iizuka, a longtime Sonic Team member who is currently the head of the series after creator Yuji Naka left in the mid-2000’s, but he is interested in the series going in a new direction. Sonic Colors was another soft reboot of the series, but because of the writer’s lack of knowledge about the series a lot more details were lost and changes made than in any of the previous ones. The writing is lighthearted, but most of the sincerity has been traded for attempts at comedy, which tend to be hit and miss. Sonic as a character retains his free spirit and some kindness towards his friends, but some of the self-importance of his English interpretation is making a comeback. Many of the characters from previous games make returns, but they’re written oddly (“Y’got this, Sssonic!” - Shadow, Sonic Generations (2011)) and the writers don’t quite know how to integrate them. Sonic Colors was well-received for its gameplay, and even the writing was praised at the time, but most subsequent games have middling reception. None are considered outright bad (except Sonic Boom, but that was a spinoff that Sega contracted a different company to do) or outright good (except Sonic Mania, which Sega contracted a team of fans to do.)

Conclusion

As it stands now, the Sonic franchise is a strange hybrid of the Japanese and English interpretations of Sonic. A lot of the Adventure Era fans are old enough to start noticing the changes in the writing in the Modern Era, and some aren’t big fans. Some are, though. Some of the Classic fans are satisfied with these changes, others aren’t impressed either preferring the Classic or even Adventure Era. Some people like the Classic Era, but not the English interpretations of the series. There are likely Modern fans who grew up with this version of the Sonic franchise and love it, but there may be ones that have seen previous iterations and prefer those better. There are many differing opinions and few can agree on what would be good for Sonic. Would things have been different if localization had been handled differently in the 90’s? Who can say? All we have to go by are ripples from the errors of the past.

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

Communication Issues (AT:TTSIMBCMEOAYSFIL)- Chapter Three

Ao3,   MasterPost,   Chap.1,   Chap.2

Relationships: Eventual Romantic Analogince, Romantic Prinxiety, implied background Moceit

Warnings: Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Self-isolation, Arguments, Unintentional Emotional Repression, Body Horror (in the form of Remus being Remus!), swearing, some small descriptions of pain, self-deprecations. There’s some fluff in the middle cuz I’m not pure evil, but this is pretty angsty :3 (I promise it’ll have a happy ending u just gotta wait ok). Remus uses it/its here, and is also aromantic.

Word Count: 8,167

Now, dramatism isn’t one of your functions, so you like to think that you’re being entirely  reasonable when you say that you’d rather die than inform your closest friends that you’ve grown to love them a bit more than platonically. 

And yet, here they are. Sitting on your couch, in your cluttered room, staring up at you with expectation in their eyes. They’re waiting, Logan. You didn’t actually expect to avoid this forever, did you?

Maybe you did, but it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been wrong.

But you digress: you owe them the explanation they came here for. And as you open your mouth to speak, your voice is not nearly as measured as you’d like it to be. 

“As I said before, It was never my intention for you to think I did not want to see you- that is to say, it simply wasn’t feasible, given- well- there were certain complications, you see…”

Virgil narrows his eyes, bemusedly, from his contorted position across the arm and top cushion of your couch. 

“What kind of complications?”

You look at the carpet, but it doesn’t offer much visual stimuli. You look up at the ceiling, but the angle makes your neck ache. You settle your eyes on your bookshelf instead, studying the multi-colored covers of novels that span the length of the entire opposite wall. 

“...Complicated ones.”

Virgil snorts, a sound that usually has you thinking about just how adorable he can be, but the sound is devoid of humor in its current form. 

“Care to elaborate, Teach?” Roman inquires, his legs folded comfortably under himself as he watches you. He’s managed to keep himself pretty still and quiet, though you aren’t sure if that’s attributed to his current restraint or the effects of your room.

  You push your glasses up on your nose. They fall back to their original position. You repeat this action almost compulsively. 

“It’s foolish- Very foolish. I know this is somewhat hypocritical of me, but I believe it is for the best that I do not burden you with it.”

“You aren’t a burden!” Roman squawks indignantly, in conjunction with Virgil snipping: “We’re well past that, buddy.”

You feel your face heat, embarrassingly enough. You aren’t sure why, but their instant and vehement defensiveness for you is a bit motivating. They… they won’t hate you for it. They might even understand, if you’re willing to be optimistic about this. 

“You could call it. Jealousy, I suppose.”

“Jealousy?” Roman scrunches his nose, uncomprehending.

“Yes- I know it isn’t exactly fair of me to feel this way, but it’s the unfortunate truth. I have noticed that the two of you have become much… closer, than you once were,” you see the two of them flush in embarrassment, which only serves to prove your point. “Rest assured, I’m very happy for the both of you and your bond. It’s just that I’ve realized that I have become essentially irrelevant, which I find to be… upsetting. And I know you both are far too kind and non-communicative to outright tell me this, thus I decided that I would take matters into my own hands by giving the two of you your much-needed space willingly.” 

You do not add that you’re also avoiding them because you can barely stomach being around their PDA. It seems unnecessary, and maybe a tad pathetic.

Virgil recovers from his embarrassment at your calling him out quickly enough, his abashment being engulfed by indignation. Oh, wonderful. They really can’t let up without a fight.

“What the hell are you talking about?” His anger is clear, but all three of you know that he’s only upset at the situation. 

“I would love to remain as your friends, of course, I only meant that it would be best if I didn’t interrupt you two-”

“Interrupt us?!” He’s very near shouting, leaping up from his seat and stalking towards you. He stops less than a foot away, and you try desperately not to recoil from him. 

“Yes,” you sound meek, don’t you? “It only made sense-”

He stares at you as though you’re an idiot. It’s a despicable look, but when you turn your attention to Roman for a reprieve, his expression is no different.

And then they- oh, what they do next brings you more pain than any expression ever could. It starts quiet, like they’re trying to hold it at bay, but their resolves crack and crumble. 

They laugh. They’re laughing at you. 

You shouldn’t have let them in- not into your room, not into your head, not into your life at all. You should have known that when your genuine emotions came to light, they’d only find it humorous in the end. Because you, Logan- Logic, your ‘feelings’- they’re hilarious. They are nonsensical and hardly befitting a being such as yourself, yet you have them! And you actually began to speak about them! What a comedic situation. You’re a fool in every sense of the word- both a jester and an idiot. 

They aren’t even laughing that hard, but to you each small sound reads as a raucous, villainous cackle that tears apart your skin and leaves you raw. Roman’s head is tipped back and he appears to be shaking with amusement; Virgil is trying to press his lips together and stifle his chuckling, but he’s doing a poor job of it.

Something writhes in you, much uglier than your shame or guilt. It squirms beneath the layers of your skin and runs up and down your spine, tensing your muscles with its electricity. It’s fury, burning nearly as bright as your face surely must be with this humiliation. 

How could they, tricking you into caring for them, convincing you to help them and support them, only to then heckle you when you hand them your trust. It was such a fragile thing already- which you know is preposterous, trust isn’t tangible, but in this moment it feels quite like a cracked window finally shattering to useless shards.

“Out.”

Virgil is startled into silence immediately; Roman makes a strangled sort of sound as he stops laughing.

“What?” They chorus, both looking ready to contradict you with drawn out and over-emotional arguments. 

You won’t give them that satisfaction.

“Get. Out. Of my. Room,” your shaking speech is blanketed in monotone; it’s like a towel thrown over a forest fire; it won’t last long.

Their eyes widen comically. They speak all over each other, clamoring to explain or excuse their actions, but to you the pleading is naught but white noise. 

You gave them a chance to leave of their own volition, but if they’re so keen on remaining a nuisance, then fine. You huff a sigh, turning your back to Roman and Virgil. With a snap, their chatter cuts off unceremoniously, and you are left cold and lonely. 

When you turn around, they’re gone.

<<<???>>><<<???>>><<<???>>>

You don’t get a chance to react before you’re thrown upwards through the floor of your bedroom. You land in an unceremonious heap, half-on and half-off of your bed, losing your balance almost immediately and toppling to the floor. Rising up makes you dizzy enough as it is, but being forced away from somewhere makes you want to vomit. 

You pull yourself up from the ground, holding your head in your hands until the world stops spinning. As soon as your brain gets working again, you can hear thunderous footfalls out in the hall. They stomp right past your door and down the hall. There’s a series of loud thumps, rattles, and shouts, before whoever it is retraces their steps.

You walk to your door as if on autopilot, opening it just as Roman was about to knock. He’s panting, distressed. 

“We fucked up,” he says.

“Yeah,” you pull him inside, slamming the door behind him, “We did.”

“I didn’t mean to, you know that right? I wasn’t laughing at him, I wouldn’t, alright?” Roman spirals, “He thinks I did! It was just ridiculous, was all! To think that we don’t want him around- to think-”

He curls into himself. You catch his hand before he can press it against his chest, unfolding him. You hold his wrist and rub little patterns into the back of his hand.

“Ro, hey.”

He glances up at you, wild-eyed. Eyeshadow is already creeping its way down his face.

“Why don’t we talk about this in your room instead, hm?” 

He nods, shaking, with a small mutter of ‘right, right’. You nod back, holding onto him just tight enough that your claws don’t quite dig in. 

You materialize in Roman’s room, dragging him along with you. Almost immediately a fierce pulse of energy overwhelms you. You stagger in shock, but Roman doesn’t even blink at the force. He pulls away from you and falls upon his massive, plush, circular canopy bed with a despairing whine. You can’t really blame him. 

The Creative power of this room takes its effects on you faster than any other side’s abilities could- you really wonder how Roman is so used to it. You sit on the bed beside him, intending to comfort him as he buries himself further into his hoard of pillows. But then, you can’t. You can’t sit down. Far too much troubled excitement is pooling in your stomach; far too many ideas and thoughts are running through your head, and the loudest of them are desperate appeals to start fixing this mess.

Anxiety and Creativity wouldn’t theoretically mix well, but that’s just the thing about theories. They’re often wrong, so very wrong or crackpot or conspiratorial. The truth of it is Creativity and Anxiety work together wonderfully, both as concepts and as actual, metaphysical creatures. You’ve known this, even if you won’t admit it, since you were all teenagers. But only now does it hit you just how much Roman’s abilities can do for you. It takes all of your energy, all that pent-up fear and frustration from what’s just happened, and it gives you the tools to actually use it for something.

It also makes you, ya know. Just a little recklessly confident.

“Alright, Princey, get up.”

He whines again, shifting his head just enough to glare at you.

“I’m wallowing in self-pity! For the reason that one of my dearest friends thinks me a- a bully! How are you not freaking out about this?”

“Honestly?” You wrap your hands around his wrist again, pulling him into a ragdoll-ish sitting position, “I’ve got no idea. Mentally I think I’m in the fifth dimension or some shit, so we gotta work this out quick before I come back down and really lose my mind.”

He grumbles, but you see him biting back an amused smile. Flopping his legs over the edge of the bed and making no movement to stand, Roman narrows his eyes up at you. 

“Alright, alright. We need to give that conversation another go, I know that, but we should give Logan some space first. He’s unlikely to hear us out now. You know how headstrong he is when he gets… like this.”

You nod, vacantly, because you're already three steps ahead of where he is in the conversation. 

“Yeah, good point. More time.”

“Right,” Roman draws the word out, looking at you strangely, “So why aren’t you moping with me?”

You pull the reins of your practically palpable energy enough to sit down, right next to him.

“We obviously have to work out this-” you gesture between yourself and Roman, “-before we can really talk to Logan,” once the sentence is out of your mouth you wish you could swallow back the ‘obviously’, because Roman is usually slow on the uptake and you’d never intentionally make fun of that. But he does nothing more than scrunch his face up in exaggerated confusion, the pink tint to his face giving away that he must have at least some idea what you’re implying. 

“What- what do you mean by that? The two of us already get along famously!”

“I think you know that’s not what I meant. You’re using your stage voice. You always do that when you lie.”

“Who are you- Janus?” He cough-laughs awkwardly, breaking eye-contact with you. You’re surprised that you’re holding up any better than him, but your strongest reaction at the moment is a mild blush and some prickling at your skin. 

It is for these reasons that you both love and hate Creative-Mode Virgil. He is a very productive and efficient version of you, but his propensity for acting bold and impulsive makes you want to strangle him. Him being you, of course.

“Look, Logan was wrong to think that he was a third wheel, or whatever, but I’m pretty sure he was right about the… closeness with us, I guess.”

Roman’s staring at you with wide eyes, a deep red flushing him from his ears right across his nose and cheeks. He’s clearly trying to smile, but it’s coming out awkwardly strained, almost twisted sideways. There’s a second when the anxiety rushes back to you in a wave of oh no you misread this so fucking bad of course he doesn’t feel that way about you you’re his best friend whatthehellwereyouthinkingVirgil- and it almost wins you over, but you’re in Roman’s Room. And that doesn’t just mean motivation and creativity. 

Your paranoid thoughts could never beat what’s ingrained into you as a fact. You can feel the romantic tension, almost like it’s a physical presence in the room. Maybe it is. A part of you- most of you, in fact- still wants to convince you that you’re doing something wrong. But it’s getting harder and harder to believe the longer you sit here, knowing that these emotions you feel aren't entirely your own. 

“Virgil,” he breathes, and you can feel it on your skin- when did you get so close?

“We don’t have to do anything about this,” you start to backpedal, but you don’t move away from him, “Not if you don’t want to, yet. I just… we had to talk about it, I think.”

“So you…?”

The hesitance in his voice destroys your resolve. You reach out, tucking up both of his hands in your own. 

They’re warm. 

“Yeah, I- yeah.”

He surveys you for far too long; it’s hard not to squirm. You let him watch you, though, just so he can find whatever it is he’s looking for in your expression. When he does, it only draws him in nearer.

“You and Logan are right. I love you, V.” 

You try not to smile. It doesn’t work. 

“I figured.”

He huffs at you, shoving you, but he’s grinning widely. You roll your eyes at him. You don’t speak for a while, holding your tongue for as long as you can- but you really need to say it. Just so he knows.

“I love you back, though. Or- something like that, I don’t know…”

Roman laughs outright at that, tossing his head back. You can already feel the energy you were given twisting into an entirely contradictory exhaustion. Because of that, you don’t even try to pretend to be annoyed; you just watch, fondly. 

When he’s settled, that amused look turns sharply to worry. 

“So now what?”

You pause, running your thumb over his knuckles as you think the question over. 

“Logan?” 

“Yeah, that.”

“Well, like you said, we give him some space.”

“And then?”

You glance up at Roman for confirmation, but you don’t need to. Like you said, you can feel it; his room is a pretty big snitch. 

“We tell him we love him.” 

 You let yourself forget about what happened, just for the afternoon. It’s hard, but what choice do you have? It’s out of your hands for now. And, while usually that makes you even more nervous, you manage to force yourself into the shape of something vaguely undaunted. After all, if you can’t tell Logan just how much you care about him, you can still remind Roman. 

In your own way, of course. 

“Hey,” you mutter, for what must be the millionth time that evening. Roman turns his attention away from the vent-art he’s working on, glancing at you.

“Yes, Knightmare?” He asks, but the tired and affectionate smile on his face says that he already knows your game. Damn, and here you were thinking you were subtle. (not.)

“Mmh,” you press your face into the side of his neck, leaving a few miniscule kisses to the skin there. Your arms are twined around his waist, a position that bordered on- oh, who are you kidding, it’s exceptionally clingy.

The embarrassment that you feel from so openly displaying such sappy, disgusting affection is overturned, however slightly, by the quiet laugh and kiss to the top of your head that Roman returns to you for your efforts. You hide your smile in the crook of his neck.

You continue to shower Roman with attention for a minute or so, covering his face with little pecks and pressing yourself against him, before leaning back a few inches. You sigh. He resumes his work, resting his back against your chest as he does so. 

You will let him continue to draw for ten or so minutes. You will ask for his attention again, and he’ll give it to you with a slightly wider smile than the last time you did it- that smile grows exponentially, but only by tiny increments.

You’ll kiss him all up his neck and the side of his face, hug him even tighter, listening to him laugh in a much too relieved voice before you let up once more.

And he’ll be a little more sure of you each time. A little more sure that you two can do this together. 

<<<???>>><<<???>>><<<???>>>

You are not a patient entity when it comes to the things you want. You are, in the best of cases, the exact opposite. This gets about One Million Billion times worse when the one thing that you want is to declare your love for someone, and said someone hasn’t left his room even once in six days.

Virgil, Patton, and Janus (once you’d relayed the situation to the latter two) have essentially been keeping you on a leash at all times of the day- or night- to make absolutely sure that you don’t break Logan’s door down. Which- to be fair- you wouldn’t put it past yourself to do that, but still. 

But even with the distraction of a new boyfriend (boyfriend!!!!) and those two overbearingly caring friends of yours, you are still Physically Unable to Not Do Anything currently. And, you suppose if you can’t break Logan’s door down, you might as well try that idea out on someone who wouldn’t bat an eye at such an, ah, intrusion seems to be the fitting word. 

“Uurghhhhh!”

You drop yourself face first onto Remus’ bed in your usual melodramatic fashion, immediately regretting it because fuck that smells horrid. When was the last time it washed its sheets?

Probably never, actually. You sit up.

Your sibling is sitting cross-legged on its desk, working on something that’s got a good deal of goop and limbs. It looks up at you blankly. 

“Ro? What the hell are you doing in here?” It doesn’t sound angry, just very, very surprised. 

“My life is ending.”

“Fun! Does that mean I get full creative control?”

“No! And it’s not fun, you animal!” 

It scrutinizes you, setting its strange arthropodic creation down on the desk. You lean back when it leans forwards.

“Wow, shit must be really bad if you’ve decided to come here!”

You nod, miserably. 

“Okay,” it claps its hands together, standing up only to fall against the bed beside you. It’s half-sitting, half-laying; the way it twists all its limbs up can not be comfortable. “What’s going on?”

You glare at it, but you aren’t sure why. Probably just because it is there and you need something to glare at while you talk. 

“It’s Logan…” You trail off, waiting for Remus to catch on. It takes its time thinking, even more expressionless than before. 

“You know why he hasn’t left his room in days? I tried to check on him but he barely told me anything. Just said he was tired, and ‘thanks for the concern’,” it says at last, catching you off-guard.

“You mean you haven’t heard? I would’ve thought Patton or Janus might have told you.”

It taps its claw to its chin a couple of times, thoughtful. The implication clicks just a second later, apparently, because it lets out a whining groan and drags its hands down its face.

“Oh, not that. I can’t do anything if it’s that!” It exclaims, “Yeah, they did mention it, but I guess I just tune that kind of thing out,” it pauses, “...It’s because you and Vee are fucking now, right?”

You flush, embarrassment and indignation welling up at the back of your throat. You bat Remus’ shoulder, bristly as a thornbush.

“No, we aren’t- I mean, not yet- I mean, that’s none of your business!”

“You did kinda come to me for help, though, so it actually is.”

You glower, refusing to justify that with a response. It rolls its eyes at you, turning over so that it’s flat on its back with its upper half hanging off the bed.

“It’s your bad to come to me for romance advice. You couldn’t have asked literally anyone else- yourself, for example?” It fusses with its talons as it rants, snapping off a couple of nails absentmindedly, “It’s not even the fun kind of gross.”

You can’t believe you’re considering saying it. You won’t! You shouldn’t! You refuse!

“...Please?” Oh fuck, you’ve done it now.

Remus pulls its head up slightly, a very smug grin across its face. Its teeth are horrendously crooked and yellow-stained, looking much too big and sharp to fit into its mouth. 

“Awww, you’re begging? God, you’re so desperate.”

It’s very difficult to resist the urge to push it off the bed. But you are a pillar of restraint today, because it’s not entirely wrong about that, and you still need it to help you.

“Look, it’s too personal to my own life for my abilities to do me any good. And Virgil can’t talk about it- he’s way too frazzled to even think about it, the poor thing. Plus, Patton and Janus aren’t… great… at things,” that’s a very soft way of putting: the former gets much too emotionally invested and the latter is entirely snarky and unhelpful. “So I came here. I think a more, erm, detached point of view could help.”

Remus hums at that. 

“I guess there’s nothing more detached from romantic issues than someone who’s never had any- you’ve come to the right place in that case.”

“So you’ll help?” 

Remus slides slowly forward until it’s landing in a heap on the ground, various crunching noises resulting from the impact. It huffs, lifts itself up to rest its chin on the edge of the bed, and stares at you unblinkingly.

“You’re not allowed to tangent about how pretty his eyes are or how much you love his voice, or anything like that, got it? Otherwise, I will puke, and probably into your mouth just to shut you up.”

You gag, perhaps a bit exaggeratedly.

“That’s vile!”

“Thank you! Now, bitch to me about your problems before I get bored.”

You look down to your lap, winding and unwinding your fingers repetitiously. You think about the past couple of days; in many aspects, it’s been wonderful. Virgil actually wants to be your boyfriend! And that’s what he is now! Of course, you both are just as cuddly as ever, but now you don’t have to worry about holding back. That’s been an amazing relief.

But there’s always that little thing missing, holding you back from being content completely. You want to give Logan his space, truly you do, but every day you feel a little more distant from him. A little further from being able to fix things. It’s familiar in all the worst ways.

You blink rapidly, remembering where you are before the emotions overcome you. With a shaky breath, you begin to speak. It’s just a summary at first, but then you can’t help but give Remus your most detailed accounts of, well, everything. 

You gauge its reaction intensely, but it’s as inscrutable as ever. You finish the tale hurriedly, expectant for some sort of response from the creature across from you.

There is an intolerable silence as you practically see the gears turning in Remus’ brain, which is funny because you thought Octopuses were supposed to have nine of them. You have no idea what it’s using all the other ones for, if that’s the case.

“You laughed at him,” it smirks when it speaks, sounding out the words slowly. You scoff.

“We were laughing at the situation! We didn’t mean it to seem that way. It was just bad timing! ”

It cackles at you, sitting back on its legs and tossing its head back. It sounds like a shrieking kettle.

“No wonder he’s so pissed! He thinks you think his feelings are a joke! His whole deal is not wanting to be that. That’s, like, his big thing.”

You’d… sort of figured that’s what happened, but hearing it out loud still stings. To think you’d done that to him. He was getting so much better with his feelings, but you had to go and ruin it. 

“I already know that I- we-” mental filtering, Roman, “We caused the issue. I wanted to know how to fix it.”

Remus stops laughing as suddenly as it’d started, looking at you with all the sincerity of, perhaps, someone capable of being serious. 

“Corner him,” it answers simply.

“Excuse me?”

“Corner him. Your first mistake was that you went to him in his room, which meant he could just throw you out of there. He’s stubborn, right? Plus, he thinks you were making fun of him. He’s not gonna come out to have a civilized conversation on his own, cuz he’s a dumbass, so I don’t think more space is gonna help you out here. Lure him out! Tie him up, if it’ll make him listen!” Remus pauses thoughtfully, “Orrrrr you could try amputating his legs entirely, but he’ll probably grow them back. He’s annoying like that.”

You choose to ignore the last suggestion, focusing instead on its main point. 

“Are you sure that won’t make things worse?”

“Define ‘worse’ for me, in terms of right now, currently, in here on this day.”

“Good point.”

Remus nods to itself, standing up from the floor and stretching its arms above its head. Its shoulders dislocate, but it pops them back into their sockets once its done. This almost feels like the conclusion of the conversation, but you get the impression that it’s taking its time to piece together a sentence with a little more finality.

“He was obviously crazy about you two before, which means he probably still is. He’s also a sad little shit, though.”

You move to stand as well, curling your fingers against themselves again.

“You really think so?”

“Oh, I have no idea. That’s your department, remember? Now, get out of my room; no alloromantics allowed after-” it checks the time, clearly making the rule up on the spot, “Five twenty-six P.M.” 

“Fine, fine, I can take a hint,” you place your hands on your hips, feeling just a little more confident in the wake of this talk.

“‘Hint’? I explicitly told you to leave.”

You grumble at Remus, but make your way to the door nonetheless. It turns back to its desk, grabbing for a jar that seems to be filled with insect legs. It’s immediately refocused into whatever strange creatures it was working on, pulling them apart and shoving them back together. You let the affronted look fall from your face, replaced by a small, fond smile.

“Thanks, Re.”

It glances back at you, briefly.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s nothing…” it pauses, its hands stilling. “Good luck.”

“Thank you,” you say, earnestly.

You leave, letting it get back to its work. 

 The hallway smells like a fucking Macy’s compared to Remus’ room. Jesus Christ, it’s a relief. 

You shut the door behind you with a soft click, leaning back against it with a deep, shuddering sigh. It’s been a long week. 

Ah, and just on time, as if to prove your point, there’s a gravelly shout and a thump from downstairs. You draw yourself to attention, shaking the slump from your shoulders. You flit through the narrow hall to the top of the stairs, listening carefully for an issue to resolve or an unseemly beast to slay. A prince must protect his subjects, after all.

For a few seconds, all you can hear below is frantic whispering. You set a foot on the top step, but you don’t get the chance to descend.

Virgil is there like a flash of lightning, speeding up the stairs and heading right for you. 

You startle, spiraling back to escape his path, but it’s futile. He catches you at the top, sending you both crashing into the opposite wall. Pain shoots up your back at the impact, as well as sparking in your shoulders where his claws are gripping you. You hiss, the sound dying when you meet his eyes. 

They’re bright. No, glowing. No, seeping- their color is seeping into the world around them, curling in little streaks of murky green and violet around Virgil’s face. 

He speaks, but it’s without distortion. It’s clear and crisp. It isn’t quite anxiety that’s consuming him this way, no, it’s something much more powerful.

“Roman,” he takes your hand in a fervent grip, “Ro, it’s Logan.”

You blink, and before you really know what you’re doing, you're already halfway downstairs.

<<<???>>><<<???>>><<<???>>

Light, sparse taps are turned out against the solid wood door. The sounds, however small, echo throughout this packed little room.

Your fingers stall above the laptop’s keyboard, and for a fraction of a second frustration overcomes you. It’s gone as soon as it comes, replaced unceremoniously by numbness. This is a minor inconvenience to your work, but not much else. Thankfully, you are not one to dwell on it; after all this time, you are finally in complete control of your faculties and your emotions. 

The knock returns, more sure of itself as it hits against the surface. Bemusedly, you wonder why on earth they’re still bothering- but, that isn’t them, it belatedly occurs to you. The rhythm isn’t that of some showtune or another, nor is it harsh and pounding.

You aren’t sure how many days it’s been since you’ve heard that particular sound. You aren’t sure… What day is it?

Well, regardless, you’ve been jarred from your work. You could ignore it and continue on- you’d likely forget it soon enough- but the fact that you recognize the presence specifically as Patton stops that idea in its tracks. He’s sensitive, an overthinker to an extreme degree. He could entirely misconstrue it as a dislike of his company if you were to not respond, unlike a flippant Remus or a collected Janus. And, well…

You’re over it. You’ve been over what Roman and Virgil did to you. But even though you very much are, it’s still perfectly reasonable to not want to be near them. There would be nothing to gain from talking to them, and you’d like to spare yourself the headache. But, you digress; Patton was not a part of what transpired. He would not do that to you, and therefore he is not an impediment to your work. Looking at it rationally, he is in fact a great source of comfo- help, for you. 

With this in mind you stand, making your way across the room. You stagger when you walk, like something’s pulling you in different directions. Odd. The feeling is somewhere in your head, sinking down your vertebrae, insisting that you need to remain in the sanctity of your room. If you leave, the pull suggests, then all your carefully built clarity of mind should become disrupted. How strange for such a convincing conviction to be so seemingly baseless, you reflect.

The knock returns, and that is of course a much more pressing issue. There’s a pull coming from there as well, only one much fiercer and easier to place. It’s the strongest thing you’ve experienced in some time, like someone’s arm around your waist, guiding you forwards (even if there isn’t anyone there, really). 

“Good afternoon,” you intone, drawing the door open with excessive force. Strange, again; maybe you had just forgotten how heavy it was. 

Patton stands across from you, shock written across his features with his fist still poised in the air, as though to knock again. He drops the hand quickly, reaching out instead with both arms while a grin consumes his face. But the limbs spasm concerningly, and stop. He sweeps his arms back and presses his balled hands tightly against his chest, still smiling at you, only a little more strained. His eyes are big, murky pools of color and emotion, raging and contradictory and impossible to make sense of. Even looking into them is overwhelming. 

“Hi, buddy,” he says it so quietly, but the actual words don’t matter. He says it with force, like perhaps he’s localized every emotion he’s ever felt entirely into his tone of voice.

You blink at him, an undefined question on your lips before that pull behind you turns into a sharp push, and before you know it you’re slumping forward into the hallway and out of your room. As you’re forced out, you narrowly avoid hitting the carpet. That’s thanks to Patton, who rushes forwards with a yelp, hauling you up into his sturdy arms with very little effort. 

The confusion you’d felt leaves you in a great big rush, replaced by fire. Your skin is consumed by burns at your friend’s touch- or at least it feels that way, but logically it cannot possibly be actual flame- but fuck logic because you’re on fucking fire.

It’s an all-consuming heat, but that’s hardly all it is. It’s breathing. Like you’d been holding your breath to the point of mad deliria and only now are you gasping in great, relieved breaths of clear air as some great and stifling weight is lifted from your lungs. It also feels like moving from an ice bath to a sauna all too quickly, giving you the greatest relief in conjunction with horrific pain. 

Oh. You’re crying. 

“Shh,” Patton whispers, as though this isn’t anything out of the ordinary, “It’s okay, it’s alright.”

You hold onto him hesitantly. Are you sitting? You think you must be, judging from this position.

“Do you need me to let go? Is it too much?”

You open your mouth to speak, and your voice is in perfect, frightening monotone.

“Yes, please.”

Patton draws back gently, just far enough so that you’re not touching. Big, crocodile tears crawl down your face still, but they begin to die down after a moment. You get your breathing under control, even if just barely.

“I didn’t want you to fall and get hurt,” Patton explains, “But I realize that making you touch a living vessel for emotion might’ve hurt, too, after- well, after that,” he gestures vaguely to your room, and then to yourself. You tilt your head in confusion.

“What-?” You look down at your arms, and the question dies on your lips.

It’s lifeless; corpse-like. The cold, slate-gray painted up your arms and probably across your whole body. The color looks sucked out of you, leaving only emptiness in its wake. The only sign that you’re a living being and not a husk, a shell, a piece of shed skin- other than the tremble of your frame- is the shocks of electric blue running up your body. They could be veins, if not for the fact that the lines were perfectly straight and geometrically cornered.

Patton reaches out, pensively, and presses a cautious finger against the back of your hand. At his touch, the spot bursts into life like watercolor on wet paper. Lively, peachy skin with cool undertones appears, before fading back to gray as Patton removes his finger. And it stings. 

You jump to your feet with a struggle, hardly registering when Patton follows your lead. You spin on your heel, staring through the open door and into your room. You can’t imagine entering it- just the feeling of being near it shortens your breath. It’s frigid, it’s hard and unshakeable and dark. It is completely and entirely devoid of emotion or life, and you hadn’t left that frozen hellscape in days.

It’s a wonder you can feel anything at all, after what you’ve done to yourself.

A shaking gasp rips out of your throat, and before you can think another panicked thought you jolt forward and wrench the door shut. You back away from it until your back hits the opposite wall.

“I- I didn’t realize I was doing it,” your words sound like pleas, falling from your mouth without your consent.

“I know,” Patton stands beside you, close enough to feel but not to burn.

“I didn’t mean to, I just-”

“I know.”

“I was doing better. I was doing so well, I was happy.”

He nods solemnly. 

You’ve been aware of the existence of your emotions, and relatively accepting of it, for a good deal of time. Hypocrisy is unsustainable. You can’t very well preach the negatives of repression on a weekly basis and then go on to practice it indefinitely. 

But what you are… everything that you encompass, everything that encompasses you, it makes it much too easy to slip up. To force out every pesky feeling in favor of more ‘important’ things. What it really is is a pitiful defense mechanism, unfortunately built deep into you by the purpose of your being. And it seems that your room can even do it without your knowledge.

“Logan?”

You look up, unsure if he can even see how miserable you are. Can you emote anymore? You try to frown, but your muscles are stuck like plastic.

“Why don’t we get you somewhere else and see if we can get some of the feeling back into ya, okay?”

You adjust your glasses once, then twice.

“Not your room, I would hope?”

“Oh, goodness,” he lets out a startled laugh, “Of course not, that would be way too much! I was thinking somewhere a little more, uhm, neutral?”

You perk up at that implication. You could just go to the common room, of course, but that’s hardly the only unaffected area in the Mindpalace. Your world isn’t quite real- and even if it is it’s extremely fluid and easy to influence- meaning you can make about just as many locations as any of you would like. Which includes structures ‘outside’ of your ‘house’.

An ill-defined existence like that might irk you, if you were in a philosophical mood. Thankfully, the only mood you’re in right now is sad. 

“Yes, I think a change of setting could be beneficial.”

Patton chirps happily, much like a tree frog, and makes to lead you downstairs. You follow close behind him, chasing that emotional high but still nervous of the pain that it could cause you. 

You’re on edge for reasons enough already. The idea that you could run into them is a prominent one that you’d rather not focus on. 

For a split second you think you might have to, though, because there’s someone sitting on the couch when you step down from the landing. Your breath catches in your throat, but then he looks up at you, heterochromic eyes wide with surprise, and you exhale steadily. 

“Hello, Janus.”

His eyebrows arch up at your greeting, perplexion in his smile. Appraisingly, he observes you, offering only a small wave. He addresses Patton when he speaks. 

“Well, Dear, it seems you were right to be concerned about him.”

Patton mutters something that you can’t quite make out, looking disconcerted. 

You’d be flushing indignantly, if you had the ability to. Your shoulders hunch up as you glance between your friends.

“You’ve been talking about me?” 

They both look acutely uncomfortable, exchanging looks. That’s answer enough for you, though. 

Oh, just look at yourself. You’re a spectacle now, aren’t you? Poor Logan, getting his metaphorical metaphysical heart broken, only for it to become the talk of the MindPalace for days on end as he relapses into repression. Isn’t it such a lovely thing for you to be? A piece of gossip. Entertainment.

Janus’ worry grows on his face, and soon he’s up from his spot and hastening towards you. You step back from him, trying to remember what glaring is meant to look like. He doesn’t invade your space again, but he just… stares at you. 

“Would you like to talk about it?” He asks. You can almost laugh at the question. 

“I’m sure you already know all about it, though, don’t you?”

Both of them are taken aback by your snapping. You regret it immediately; they haven’t done anything wrong, not really. They’re trying to help you, it isn’t their fault that they got caught up in your ‘tragic tale’. But your frustration is difficult to push down. You get the feeling that you can’t push anything down, without worrying that something will snap; it’s almost like an overworked muscle. 

“Whatever you think has been happening out here,” Janus speaks, even and slow, “It’s not that bad, alright?”

Patton nods along with him, and reaches towards you. He falters, eventually opting to hook a finger through the band of your watch instead. Your skin prickles, but there’s no pain. 

“C’mon, I was thinking we could try heading to the Clubhouse.”

That settles your anger, microscopically. You think Janus is being truthful, and Patton is nothing but consoling. And, of course, there’s the clubhouse…

You might not ever admit how much you like it. It’s been around since before you were around, back in the days of just Anxiety (the oldest), Creativities (tied for second), and a very newly formed Morality. Back when it was first made, it really was just a little child’s clubhouse, made primarily by Roman, with some disruptions by Remus, and small additions by a tiny Patton. It was probably the first neutral structure made up by the sides, as they had just begun to figure out their powers and the ‘world’ that they inhabited. Of course no one had the heart to get rid of it after that.

You give Patton a nod, angling your face so that it maybe looks like you’re smiling. He lets go of you, smiling back as he turns on his heel and heads for the door. You trail behind him, knowing that it must look very silly that you’re basically tailgating him. Janus follows you in turn, a few feet behind. He watches over the both of you protectively. 

You step out onto the lawn, hearing grass crunch beneath your shoes. The wind is particularly biting, and the sky above threatens a storm. You’re sure that the weather in the real world isn’t this chaotic, so someone in the mindscape must be sulking. You don’t mind; it’ll only make the warmth of the Clubhouse all the more pleasant. 

The Clubhouse has changed so much over the years that it’s unrecognizable as its original iteration. What once was a little stick-and-stone glorified fairy house is now a cottage-like building, one story high with a thickly thatched roof. Beside the door on either side are big bay windows, each made into little reading nooks. It’s essentially one big room, the outside painted with such vibrant pastels that it easily stands out against its surroundings.

The doors creak when Patton opens them, but not in a way that denotes damage or wear. It’s an old and comforting sound, one that comes from familiarity and consistent use. You step through the threshold, and affection floods your chest.

It isn’t large, but it’s well-equipped. There are ancient oaken tables stacked up with crafts materials, squashy bean bag chairs, and a bright rug or two thrown over the rustic hardwood floors. The nooks have pillows and blankets piled in them, looking like nests. There are bookshelves, art supplies, vinyl records (complete with a record player)- even some new-looking wall displays of preserved bugs and butterflies for decoration. To top it all off, fairy lights were strung across all the walls, making it all seem quite mystic. 

You find yourself taking another step inwards; the amenities are incredibly inviting. Everything here is inviting, and homey, and lived-in. The house itself almost feels alive, nonsensical as that is.

It’s no wonder this is everyone’s favorite.

Patton watches you patiently, his hand resting on the door handle. You take a deep breath, but you aren’t sure why you need it. You make your way to the perfume-y, floral print sofa against the wall to your right, treating everything around you rather reverently. When you sit, you sink down into the couch.

Patton sits a respectful distance from you. Janus strolls right after him, knocking the door shut with the back of his boot before settling in an armchair on the left of the couch.

There’s a comfortable silence, and you start to feel your numbness abate. With a contented sigh, your head falls back against the cushion and your eyes fall shut. Not in an effort to sleep. You’re just… resting. You breathe deeply, letting the atmosphere envelop you.

The corners of your mouth twitch up.

“Logan!” Patton squeaks, “Look!”

Your eyes blink open, mildly startled at the outburst. Patton’s gaze on you is intense, first focused on your face and then moving down your arms. You follow the look, to see your...

Your perfectly normal, flesh-colored arms. Your human-ish, mildly tan, average arms. You feel what you can now recognize as a smile grow wider on your face. 

“Well,” Janus chimes, “It seems you just needed a little break.”

“Maybe so,” your voice creaks from lack of use. You hadn’t even realized you’d been nonverbal since you’d last snapped at them. Neither had drawn attention to it, which you silently thank them for (they, after all, were all too familiar with the experience). 

“Do you feel good enough to talk about what’s been upsetting you?” Patton gently asks you. And you… don’t have an answer.

“What is there to talk about?” You tilt your head bemusedly. 

“I think he means, are you ready to talk to who’s been upsetting you?” Janus explains. Patton hesitates before nodding his agreement.

“I- what?” Your serenity leaves in a rush, replaced by astonishment and outrage, “You expect me to- to talk to them?”

You give them approximately three seconds to respond before plowing forwards with your rant.

“I’m talking to you both, isn’t that enough? You’ve done nothing to wrong me, of course. What does it matter if I don’t speak to those- those- those-”

Janus’ eyes expand to circles, the pupils shrinking to anxious slits.

“Those?” He prompts.

“Tricksters, betrayers, playactors, wolves- whatever you want to call them!” Where were vocab cards when you needed them? All your synonyms can’t carry the punch that you need them to. Insults aren’t much good if you have to explain them after. 

“No!” Patton practically screams, out of absolutely nowhere. You glance at him, stunned, to see him looking like a kicked puppy- er, froggy. He’s on the verge of tears, leaning towards you precariously, with devastation swirling in his big eyes. “This is why you need to talk to them, please, Logan.”

You are so very bewildered, you barely notice that Janus is standing from his chair until he’s already across the room. 

“As I said earlier: whatever you think happened, didn't. I can prove it, too,” he mutters, standing by the door.

“You weren't there, Janus,” you snap, "I tried to tell them how I felt and they- they laughed at me.”

“They didn't!” Patton squeaks. You shake your head frantically, still reeling.

“It was- it was awful, you can’t-”

“No,” Patton interrupts, “I meant that literally. They didn’t do that.”

This interaction is making your head spin with indignation. You are capable of immense patience when it comes to Patton- and Janus, for that matter- but this has become ridiculous. 

“I’m so tired of being made a mockery of, Patton. I won’t stand for it any longer, even if you’re just trying to help.”

He breathes in sharply, about to argue, but then his gaze catches on something behind you. His mouth stays open, but he’s soundless. You jump to your feet, spinning around to see just what he’s looking at.

The door is open. Janus is gone.

There's a shout from the main house.

Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @glitter-skeleton-uwu @intruxiety @thefivecalls 

(Lemme know if you wanna be added or removed :3)

[arecomicsevengood]

TOP TEN OLDER MAINSTREAM COMICS I READ THIS YEAR

I kept track of all the comics I read this year, and not all of them were new. I have no idea who this will help or benefit but at least the circumstances of me only listing the completely arbitrary older work I read for the first time this year will deter anyone from arguing with me. However, for the sake of possibly being contentious, let me mention two comics that fall outside the top ten, because they’re bad:

Trencher by Keith Giffen. David King did a comic strip about Keith Giffen’s art style on this book in issue 2 of But Is It... Comic Aht that everybody loved, and made me be like, ok, I’ll check it out. But it’s basically just a retread of Lobo in terms of its tone and approach, but without Simon Bisley. I don’t really know why anyone wouldn’t think Bisley is the better cartoonist. Also, those comics are terrible. Thumbs down.

The Green Lantern by Grant Morrison, Liam Sharp, and Steve Oliff. I bought the first year of these comics for a dollar each off a dude doing a sidewalk sale. Found them sort of incoherent? I haven’t liked a new Grant Morrison comic in ages, with All-Star Superman being really the only outlier since like We3. This is clearly modeled off of European comics like Druillet or something, and would maybe benefit from being printed larger, I really dislike the modeled color too. But also it’s just aggressively fast-paced, with issues ending in ways that feel like cliffhangers but aren’t, and no real characters of interest.

As for the top ten list itself, for those who’ve looked at my Letterboxd page, slots 10-8 are approximately “3 stars,” 7-4 are 3 1/2 stars, slots 3 and 2 are 4 stars, with number one being a 4 1/2 star comic. The comics I’m listing on my “Best Of The Year” list that’ll run at the Comics Journal alongside a bunch of people are all 4 1/2 or 5 star comics. This is INSANELY NERDY and pedantic to note, and I eschew star ratings half the time anyway, because assignations of numeric value to art are absurd except within the specific framework of how strong a recommendation is, and on Letterboxd I feel like I’m speaking to a very small and self-selecting group of people whose tastes I generally know. (And I generally would not recommend joining Letterboxd to people!) But what I mean by all of this is just that there is a whole world of work I value more than this stuff, and I’ll recommend the truly outstanding shit to interested readers in good time.

10. Justice Society Of America by Len Strazewski and Mike Parobeck. Did some quarantine regressing and bought these comics, a few of which were some of the first comics I ever read, but I didn’t read the whole thing regularly as a kid. Parobeck’s a fun cartoonist, this stuff is readable. It’s faintly generic/baseline competent but there’s a cheap and readable quality to this stuff that modern comics lack. Interestingly, the letters column is made up of old people who remember the characters and feel like it’s marketed towards them, and since that wasn’t profitable, when the book was canceled, Parobeck went over to drawing The Batman Adventures, which was actively marketed towards kids. It’s funny that him and Ty Templeton were basically viewed as “normal” mainline DC Comics for a few years there and then became relegated to this specific subset of cartooning language, which everyone likes and thought was good but didn’t fit inside the corporate self-image, which has basically no aesthetic values.

9. The Shadow 18 & 19 by Andy Helfer and Kyle Baker. I’d been grabbing issues of this run of comics for years and am only now finishing it. Kyle Baker’s art is swell but Helfer writes a demanding script, these are slow reads that cause the eye to glaze over a bit.

8. The Jam 3-8 by Bernie Mireault. I made a post where I suggested Mireault’s The Jam might be one of the better Slave Labor comics. Probably not true but what I ended up getting are some colored reprints Tundra did, and some black and white issues published by Dark Horse after that. Mireault’s art style is kinda like Roger Langridge. After these, he did a crossover with Mike Allred’s Madman and then did a series of backups in those comics, it makes sense to group them together, along with Jay Stephens’ Atomic City Tales and Paul Grist’s Jack Staff, or Mike Mignola’s Hellboy, as this stream that runs parallel to Image Comics but is basically better, a little more readable, but still feeling closer to something commercial in intention as opposed to self-expression. Although it also IS self-expression, just the expression of a self that has internalized a lot of tropes and interests in superhero comics. If you have also read a lot of superhero comics, but also a lot of alternative comics, stuff like this basically reads like nothing. It’s comfort food on the same level of mashed potatoes: I love it when it’s well-done but there’s also a passable version that can be made when depressed and uninspired. But drawing like Roger Langridge is definitely not bad!

7. WildC.A.T.S by Alan Moore, Travis Charest, et al. I wrote a post about these comics a few months ago, but let me reiterate the salient points: There’s two collections, the first one is much better than the second, and the first is incredibly dumbed-down in its nineties Image Comics style but also feels like the best version of that possible, when Charest is doing art. Also, these collections are out of print now, a friend of mine pointed out maybe they can’t be reprinted because they involve characters owned by Todd McFarlane but Wildstorm is owned wholly by DC now.

6. Haywire by Michael Fleischer and Vince Giarrano. I made a post about this comic when I first read a few issues right around the time Michael Fleischer died a few years ago, but didn’t read all of it then. This feels way more deliberately structured than most action comics, with its limited cast and lack of ties to any broader universe, but it’s also dumb and sleazy and fast moving, and feels related to what were the popular movies of the day, splitting its influences evenly between erotic thrillers about yuppies and Stallone-starring action movies. The erotic thriller element is mostly just “a villain in bondage gear” which is sort of standard superhero comics bullshit but it’s also a little bit deeper than that. The first three issues, inked by Kyle Baker, look the best.

5. Dick Tracy by John Moore and Kyle Baker. These look even better! A little unclear which John Moore this is? There’s John Francis Moore, who worked with Howard Chaykin and was scripting TV around this time, but there’s another dude who was a cartoonist who did a miniseries for Piranha Press and then moved on to doing work for Disney on Darkwing Duck comics. Anyway, Kyle Baker colors these, they’re energetically cartooned, each issue is like 64 pages, with every page being close to a strip or scene in a movie. I’m impressed by them, and there’s a nice bulk that makes them a nice thing to keep a kid busy. (For the record, my favorite Kyle Baker solo comic is probably You Are Here.)

4. Chronos by John Francis Moore and Paul Guinan. I was moving on from DC comics by the late nineties, but Grant Morrison’s JLA was surely a positive influence on everyone, especially compared to the vibe there in the subsequent two decades. These are well-crafted. There’s a little stretch where it uses the whole “time-traveling protagonist” thing to do a run of issues which stand alone but fall in sequence too and it’s pretty smooth and smart. The art is strong enough to carry it, the sort of cartoony faces with detailed backgrounds it’s widely agreed works perfectly, but that you rarely see in mainstream comics. The coloring is done digitally, but not over-modeled enough to ruin it.

3. Martha Washington by Frank Miller and Dave Gibbons. A few miniseries, all of which sort of get weaker as they go, but all in one book it doesn’t feel like it’s becoming trash as it goes or anything. When Miller dumbed down his storytelling in the nineties it really was because he thought it made for better comics, the tension between his interest in manga and Gibbons’ British-comics classicism feels productive. I do kind of feel like the early computer coloring ruins this a little bit.

2. Xombi by John Rozum and JJ Birch. Got a handful of these on paper, read scans of the rest. This is pretty solid stuff, not really transcendent ever, but feels well-crafted on a month-in, month-out level. I read a handful of other Milestone comics, and a lot of them suffered from being so beholden to deadlines that there are fill-in issues constantly. This is the rare one that had the same creators for the entirety of its run. There was a revival with Frazer Irving art a decade ago but I prefer JJ Birch’s black line art with Noelle Giddings’ watercolors seen here. They’re doing an early Vertigo style “weirdness” but with a fun and goofy sense of humor about itself. I haven’t read Clive Barker but this feels pretty influenced by that as well. (The Deathwish miniseries is of roughly comparable quality. I read scans of the rest of that after I made my little post and, yeah, it does actually feel very personal for a genre work, and the JH Williams art with painted color is great.)

1. Tom Strong by Alan Moore, Chris Sprouse, etc. I got bored reading these as a teen but getting them all for cheap and reading them in a go was a pretty satisfying experience. It’s partly a speed-run through Moore’s coverage of the concept of a comic book multiverse seen in his Supreme run, minus the riffing on Mort Weisinger Superman comics, instead adding in a running theme of rehabilitating antagonists whose goals are different but aren’t necessarily evil. It’s more than just Moore in an optimistic or nostalgic mode, it also feels like he’s explaining his leftist morality to an audience that has internalized conflicts being resolved by violence as the genre standard.

[crampdown]

Hey y’all sorry but...

...I have to make a serious discussion regarding a case of possible racist depictions in my art work and as much as I dislike any sort of art related drama not approaching this topic would be highly irresponsible on my behalf and the last thing I wanted to accomplish with this story was to unintentionally harm people so here it goes:

It is about the story I’ve been working on this whole year for my art finals you know THIS ONE:

Now one of the people I showed the finished project to took some issue with one of the characters namely one of the three main characters, 11 year old Monty Taussky

He said that the depiction would “meet every racial stereotype regarding black characters with his big nose, ugly teeth and lips”. Okay before I adress the whole of it I think the last one is a bit uncalled for because I draw Monty completely without lips. 

There are multiple factors as of why his design might come across as off but I’ll have to explain how it could have come so far.

The man who voiced the critisism didn’t actually read the whole comic and only scooped through some pages so my guess is that he didn’t look too closely because what he was refering to as “ugly teeth” were Monty’s braces.

But this in retrospect is my own artistic fault because I drew his braces in a very unnaturalistic way wich alongside his big round nose is another result of my earlier character designs.

Remember this one? I posted it back in January 2020. Monty was alongside Peggy and Smilla one of the first characters I created for the story and back then I was aiming for a more cartoony style for the whole comic. As you can see all of them have very exaggerated facial features and the same goes for the background characters on the first few comic pages:

They’re all very caricaturesque. But as the story went on the whole thing grew slightly more serious than I originally planned for and with me taking multiple breaks in between chapters the art style for the story and the more prominent characters outside the three protagonists took on a more serious look.

okay none of them are drawn in a very realistic way but I think their look is just a little less “goofy”. And as a result my three protagonists with their more caricaturesque design just come across as...off

The thing with Monty is: He wasn’t originally meant to be a POC character. When I first drew him the only thing I had in mind was “Peggy’s 11 year old son”. I drew him with braces because many kids that age need one. His big round nose was meant to empathize his round facial features as a contrast to Peggy’s sharper ones. His face, nose, eyes, eyebrows, curls are all round to give him a softer more childlike appearance. And he always had them long before I decided to darken his skin color. 

I’ve written Peggy as a single mother and neither she nor Monty know who his father is. Back then I thought “Would it make any difference if Monty’s father had been of a different ethnicity? Would it change his character if he was biracial?” The answer for me was no. I tend to decide a character’s nationality/ethicity/sexuality/religion/identity etc. very late in order to avoid stereotypes. 

Of course that all falls flat if I’m accidentally reinforcing harmfull stereotypes with Monty’s appearance. 

Had Monty been the only POC character in this whole story I’d say the critic would be compelety justified. But he’s not.

I tried to give them all unique physionomy. But as you can see in this character comparison - again - Monty’s design looks off, too cartoony to be in synch with the rest of the depicted cast.

Now there hasn’t been any sort of offical release of my comic and the few copies I’ve printed were mostly sold to friends and family members. Meaning I can still change his design (plus due to the deadline I had to shorten the story immensly from it’s original script so I’m generally not pleased with its current version).

Maybe it would be better if I’d shrink his nose slightly and draw his braces just a little more naturalistically. Like this:

Does this look a little bit better? (Please let me know!!)

Ultimately I think wether his depiction is problematic or not is not for me to decide. I’m a white middle European but so is the guy who criticized Monty’s appearance. 

Please let me know your opinion.

In case it really is problematic then I’m deeply sorry for it. I honestly didn’t mean to reinforce any harmfull stereotypes and I promise I will do better research and improve my art style.

[chessdaze]

Three Wishes Institute - a TWST fanschool

I’ve been posting ALOT about three wishes character wise but I wanted to do a bit of a lore dump on the school itself, and then maybe make some separate posts for things like the dorm environments, uniforms, clubs, etc.

First off, as a concept, Three Wishes is a fanschool for twisted wonderland that involves characters that are considered ‘side’ or ‘background’ or even ‘comic relief’ characters from disney franchises. Right now I only have 6 dorms, and characters range from being on both ‘good’ and ‘bad’ sides of a story.

Here’s the lore rundown for the main school itself and a brief summary on the dorms and characters I will be designing for them. Under readmore cause this is HELLA long and I don’t want to make people scroll for forever:

The overall story of Three Wishes:

The Headmistress and Master, Amelia Bell and Reed Dearly (based on Anita and Roger from 101 dalmatians), only recently got the school property. Before them, the school was known to be really rundown, a failure, and pretty much on the verge of closing. While it was a school for magic, it was like all the magic was zapped out of the school itself. It was filled with delinquents and very few students who actually cared. Most dropped out if anything.

Amelia was a teacher at the school for a little over a year and the only teacher that students really respected and bothered showing up to class for. She hated seeing the school in the state it was in and tried pleading with the headmistress of the school to try and change things - however was constantly told it was too late and that the school would be closing. It did, and Amelia had to look for jobs elsewhere. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she could have done more and found herself drawn back to the crumbling school on more than one occasion. She decided to sneak in one day to see if she could find a hint of anything from the old headmistress - who had disappeared without a trace - to see if she could get in contact with her. This wasn’t her idea of course, but her (boyfriend at the time) Reed’s.

Eventually they did track down the headmistress and found her terribly ill. Amelia insisted that the two of them care for her, despite all that the headmistress had done to shun Amelia beforehand. They did, and during that time Amelia explained the hopes she had previously had for the school - she said how she wanted a school that anyone could feel welcome to apply, and not have some special ceremony for acceptance (like the carriages for NRC). She believed people could be equals and that as a magical community they should all help one another. The old headmistress was moved by Amelia’s words and when she back to health she revealed herself to be a powerful sorceress (the enchantress from Beauty and the Beast). She explained she had been looking for a worthy successor for the school and her magic but didn’t find Amelia fitting at the time, but saw the kindness in Amelia’s heart and offered her the deed to the school and the surrounding grounds. She wanted to see what Amelia would do with the school and was interested if she could really bring a community together like she explained. Then, she disappeared.

Amelia and Reed worked to renovate the school, taking nearly 2 years on the project. Amelia comes from a wealthy family, but even then funds were not endless, so a lot of fundraising was done to also raise awareness for the reopening school. At first there wasn’t much interest but it slowly got more and more traction. With donations and family money, they were able to complete the school. The two of them also got engaged during this time. Even with them rebuilding the mainschool and doing some maintenance on the dorms themselves, there are some secrets that even the two of them are still learning, as the sorceress took off before giving them the full details on the school itself.

The school’s aim is to not only teach its students magic, but the foundation of being a good person, being helpful and selfless. The school holds a lot of community and fundraising events, and there is even a mandatory volunteering class where students have to spend a certain amount of hours volunteering for a local community service. This school hopes to bridge the gap between the elite and average magic users, showing that deep down everyone is human and deserving of respect and a chance to grow.

This school doesn't have completely different areas for the dorms and it's all actually located on a large campus ground.The main school building is about 4 stories, there's a greenhouse and an auditorium in separate buildings.

The dorms are all two or three stories and are all relatively distant from each other, enough to give each dorm a good spot of land around it. Think a mansion with a large yard. When passing through the front gate for the dorm there's magic that makes it appear in a slightly different scenery - so the students don't always have the school looming in the background and can relax. The dorm's scenery is different between each dorm and it can change with each 'dorm representative'.

There aren't really dorm 'leaders' as there are representatives. Normally about two or three for each dorm - though can only be one if the person proves themselves to be capable / no one else is voted. Each dorm will have a meeting once a month to go over things that the dorm needs to address either internally or with the school or other dorms, and then the representatives bring those concerns to a meeting with the school's staff and other dorm representatives. Think more like a student council and class presidents.

The dorm reps can be split into the 'main' representative and a 'vice' but are pretty much on the same ground as far as their authority goes - the 'main' is just the one more available to perform duties or attend all the meetings while the 'vice' is kind of like a back up /fall back if the first can't make it. Normally it’s preferable if all representatives can make to meetings and events. The representatives make almost all decisions together. Reps are voted for each year within a dorm, and the voting is taken pretty seriously.

The dorm rep duties outside of the meetings is mostly just like a college RA. They make sure people are following the rules, help solve problems between students in their dorm, plan and hold events, etc.

The dorms:

This section I’ll be updating overtime as I list out the characters I want to design - most are still not designed yet as I’m kind of slow but I have concepts for all of them more or less it’s just a matter of getting time / energy to work on them.

While students are separated into dorms in this school, the headmaster and mistress try to stress the fact that they are all one community. Friendly rivalry is encouraged but ultimately the matter of dorms is just where the students end up living and placing them near people who can better help those around them. The two in charge don’t want the dorms to become too competitive or to alienated from one another - so there’s actually a lot of cross dorm events and even friends staying over at other friends dorms for days on end at times.

As a note, as long as it’s not inappropriate, students are encouraged to wear anything they want as their ‘dorm uniform’. Standard school uniforms are required on the main campus but as Headmaster Reed puts it - there’s no reason for them to tell the students what to wear in their own house. Plus, the school isn’t as well funded as most other private schools, so not having a lot of uniforms to keep up with is better for them in the long run. Most generally follow the general color coordination of their dorms (to be listed later), though there are exceptions.

* ‘s indicate that dorm’s representatives

Cinderella dorm: Nightingale Founded on the hard work and dedication of a princess’s companions, members of this dorm are no strangers to teamwork and getting the job done. It’s said that there’s no miracle students in this dorm can’t pull off in a short amount of time.

Characters:

Rue Meadows  *

Snow White: Diamanttobar Founded on the tradition and devotion of miners, members of this dorm specialize in working long hours and putting 100% into everything they do. Students here notice the smaller details in anything and are said to be able to craft nearly anything asked.

Characters:

Otto Bregmann*

Emil Bregmann

the other dwarves are going to be referenced as their younger siblings.

Aladdin: Wondrous Founded on the cleverness and protective instincts of a royal couple’s most trusted confidants, members of this dorm sometimes have questionable methods but overall have hearts of gold. Students in this dorm are proactive in calling out unfair rules and try to work for changes and reforms.

Characters:

Ram / Kunal *

Ozan Bell

Zeki Al-Asim

Mulan: Guardian Found on the honor and strength of dragons, students of this dorm are known to follow a code of honor and are very protective of one another. They are great with helping other student’s physical and mental well beings, acting as trainers and confidants.

Characters:

Long Lie Jie*

Xiao Mingyu*

AiW: Lapinhole Founded on the curiosity and madness of a queen’s subjects, members of this dorm are known to be eccentric and creative. A lot of students in this dorm are mysterious and have a strange method of helping others, but even through the confusion a lot of students rely on students from this dorm for a little more fun in their lives.

Characters:

Quinn Neander *

Beauty and the Beast: Servireu Founded on the faith and loyalty of a Beast prince’s servants, members of this dorm are known to be generous, not judgemental, and extremely helpful. A lot of these students are at the top of their classes and are known for being excellent tutors for others.

Characters:

TBA

[enbyleighlines]

Please please please can we have some nie huaisang for the modern mdzs au? I would especially love to see either their confession to Jiang Cheng or, if the two of them are friends in the au, them coming out to Meng Yao? Your writing is amazing by the way.

Of course, anonymous!! But why did you have to put two prompts in one??? Now I have to choose one or the other ;_;

I decided to go with option #1. Since you typed that one first, I’m assuming it was your preferred option?? Hopefully??? If not you can send in the second prompt again and I’ll fill that, too!

I hope you enjoy~

—

Weddings are meant to be happy occasions, a celebration of love and fidelity.

Nie Huaisang hates weddings. Or rather, they WANT to hate weddings, because they remind them of how unbearably single they still are, and will likely remain to be for the foreseeable future. But it’s hard to hate a good excuse to get all dolled up.

Nie Huaisang studies their reflection. They’ve always had a steady hand, and an aesthetic eye. Even so, Nie Huaisang thinks they may have outdone themself this time.

The look is understated, but beautiful. Nie Huaisang’s eyes pop, framed with dark lashes. It’s not overly feminine. The gloss on their lips is a neutral tone, and the blush is subtle, almost unnoticeable. The bronzer is giving their skin a healthy, sun-kissed glow. The warm tones are only highlighted with the contrast of Nie Huaisang’s dark olive outfit: a matching dress shirt and high-waisted, a-line skirt.

In short, Nie Huaisang looks good.

They’re in the woman’s bathroom, although Nie Huaisang doesn’t like it any more than the men’s bathroom. The bride, Jiang (soon to be Jin) Yanli had tried to find a venue with a gender-neutral option, but unfortunately, there were none. In any case, Nie Huaisang appreciates the gesture. But when a woman Nie Huaisang doesn’t know enters, Nie Huaisang quickly packs up the rest of their makeup and skitters out.

Nie Yuyan, Huaisang’s cousin, is waiting outside. She’s one of the bridesmaids, and the pale violet dress looks odd on her. She brightens when she sees them.

“Huaisang! Look at you!” Nie Yuyan says.

“I can still do your makeup, if you want,” Huaisang offers.

But Nie Yuyan shakes her head, as they knew she would. “I just can’t get used to the feeling if it on my skin,” she explains, “I don’t want to be rubbing at my face all through the ceremony. Imagine how unattractive that would be!” She laughs, the way she usually does, without any restraint or attempt to cover her mouth.

They’re opposites, the two of them, as different as Huaisang and Mingjue. Nie Yuyan grew up on a dairy farm. She is strong, big-boned, and simple. She does not second-guess her words or actions.

Nie Huaisang is not like her. They are slim, fragile, clumsy, and too often wrapped up in their own inner world.

But they understand each other. Both of them defy expectations. Nie Yuyan is loud when she’s supposed to be quiet and demure. Nie Huaisang is cowardly when they’re supposed to be fearless and manly, like their Dage, Mingjue.

And today, they are on a dual mission.

“Have you seen either of them yet?” Nie Huaisang asks, as the two of them head back outside.

The bride and groom are going to exchange their vows outside, in the garden, underneath the branches of trees dangling twinkling fairy lights like halos over their heads. But the actual ceremony is still a little over an hour away. For now, the guests are mingling amongst the flowers.

“Yes,” Nie Yuyan whispers. Or at least, it’s her best attempt at a whisper. “I saw yours by the chocolate fountain.”

“Don’t call him ‘mine’,” Nie Huaisang sighs. They look off towards the chocolate fountain, and breathe softly in relief to find that Jiang Cheng is still there.

The man looks like a dream, in his rich purple tux. He is one of the groomsmen, along with his Gege, Wei Wuxian, who is also at the chocolate fountain. Both are partaking of the cookies, though Nie Huaisang is pleased to note that only one of them has crumbs all over their mouth— and it isn’t Jiang Cheng.

Nie Yuyan clutches at Nie Huaisang’s arm. “Ah, I see him! I see Lan Xichen!” She points in a different direction.

Nie Yuyan’s crush is dressed in a pale blue suit. He is surrounded by many of his friends, including Nie Mingjue. The man is indeed handsome, Nie Huaisang can admit, though his beauty is rather... sterile. That’s the only word Nie Huaisang can think to describe it.

But Yuyan is beside herself with lovesickness. “Look at him,” she coos, “He hasn’t aged a day since I last saw him.”

Nie Huaisang hums. Their gaze has already shifted back to Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng’s sleeves are rolled up and out of the way for easier snacking. It exposes a bit of his muscular forearms. Back in high school, he used to play soccer, so most of his strength is in his legs, Huaisang knows. Still, Jiang Cheng’s arm muscles are no laughing matter.

Huaisang wants Jiang Cheng to hand-feed them chocolate-dipped strawberries. They allow themself just a minute to imagine it.

“Alright,” Nie Yuyan says, “Are you ready?”

Huaisang startles. “We’re going to confess now?” They ask, “Before the ceremony even starts?”

“Well, when did you want to confess?”

“At the reception,” Nie Huaisang answers, “towards the end of the night. That way, if things go wrong, we can just leave. If we confess now, we’ll just make things awkward.”

“That’s so far from now,” Nie Yuyan complains, pouting. But she doesn’t even try to argue.

Nie Huaisang shakes their head. They can understand their cousin’s enthusiasm; after all, Lan Xichen is a kind man, he’s straight, and even if he turns her down, he’s bound to do so gently.

Confessing to Jiang Cheng will be a whole other beast. Nie Huaisang fully expects to be turned down. After all, Jiang Cheng is also straight, and he already has a girlfriend. Or, rather, he has Wen Qing. In fact, Nie Huaisang isn’t confessing in the hopes of getting a date. They just want to make their feelings known, at last, after all these years.

Maybe then, Nie Huaisang’s heart will finally let them move on.

“Well,” Nie Yuyan says, “I’m at least going to go and talk to him. I haven’t seen him since last summer! You should go catch up with your friends.”

Then she gives them an encouraging pat on the back which slaps all the air out of their lungs.

Nie Huaisang stumbles forward, and turns back to give her a scowl.

But Nie Yuyan has already disappeared.

—

At the chocolate fountain, Nie Huaisang slowly inches their way into the conversation between the two brothers.

“...like a Chinese Gordon Ramsey,” Jiang Cheng is saying, “She desperately needs to retire, but you know how she is. Unless she manages to find a new hobby, she’ll be haunting the kitchen even after she dies.”

Nie Huaisang immediately recognizes that they’re talking about Madam Yu, Jiang Cheng’s Muqin. Ever since Jiang Cheng has begun working at Lotus Soup, his family’s restaurant, he and Madam Yu have been butting heads more than usual. They love each other, Nie Huaisang knows, but they’re also a little too similar.

“You mean, a hobby other than drinking wine and gossiping with the other suburban moms?” Wei Wuxian counters.

Nie Huaisang cannot help but chuckle.

The brothers turn to look at them. Wei Wuxian greets them first, with a friendly arm around the shoulders.

“Hey, Huaisang-xiong!” Wei Wuxian says, “You’re looking good!”

Nie Huaisang glances aside at Jiang Cheng, trying to check if he agrees. However, the man’s face is in its usual state of pensive anger. So Nie Huaisang returns their attention to Wei Wuxian. “Thank you, Wuxian-xiong,” they reply, “...Cheng-xiong.”

Jiang Cheng nods.

“How have you been?” Wei Wuxian asks, “How’s the photography?”

“Good,” Nie Huaisang answers, relaxing now that they have an easy topic to discuss, “You should see some of these shots I took the other day of this great blue heron. The sky in the background is this beautiful pale orange color— it’s absolutely gorgeous.”

From then, they continue to talk about their various arts; Nie Huaisang’s photography, Wei Wuxian’s comics, and Jiang Cheng’s gourmet cooking. It’s a well-worn conversation, but they still haven’t run out of things to say. Nie Huaisang listens with awe whenever Jiang Cheng flaunts his culinary prowess.

Nie Huaisang could listen to Jiang Cheng talk about food for hours— even if it makes them hungry.

Of course, Wei Wuxian has to monopolize the conversation. Nie Huaisang loves him, but man, the guy can talk. But all of Wei Wuxian’s mindless chatter gets Jiang Cheng to make the funniest expressions, so Nie Huaisang doesn’t complain.

It feels like being in high school again, funnily enough. Nie Huaisang smiles, and tries not to think about how much it’ll hurt when Jiang Cheng rejects them later.

—

The ceremony is beautiful. Nie Huaisang is still thinking about it as they pick at their plate of food. It’s been provided by the cooks at Lotus Soup. Perhaps Jiang Cheng has ever prepared some of it himself. Nie Huaisang would be savoring every last bite, if only their stomach wasn’t currently full of nervous butterflies.

Nearly everyone else is out on the dance floor. Nie Huaisang watches the newly wed Jin Zixuan and Yanli twirl and dig around each other. They look so, so happy.

Nie Yuyan leans closer to her cousin. “So... is now a good time?”

Nie Huaisang closes their eyes, and tries not to let the terror show on their face. But there’s no good reason to keep procrastinating, so they say, “Yeah... we might as well.”

Nie Yuyan jumps to her feet, nearly tipping her chair toppling down to the floor. “Whoops,” she laughs, as carefree as ever.

Nie Huaisang gets up much more carefully. They can feel their heart pounding in their throat.

The cousins then part ways, after one last shared look. Nie Huaisang heads off towards the back of the room, where Jiang Cheng is sitting at the table reserved for the bride’s family.

He’s by himself. Even Jiang Fengmian and Madam Yu are off dancing.

Nie Huaisang glances around, but they don’t see hide nor hair of Wen Qing. That doesn’t surprise them, though. Whatever strange relationship she and Jiang Cheng have, it mostly takes place behind closed doors.

As they approach, Jiang Cheng glances up over the rim of his champagne glass. He raises a single eyebrow inquisitively.

“May I sit?” Nie Huaisang asks, pointing to the seat beside Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng scowls, as if the formality of the question offends him. He lowers his cup and says, “Go right ahead. What’s up?”

Nie Huaisang tips their head slightly and sits down. They take their time smoothing out their skirt, hoping that someone or something will interrupt before Nie Huaisang is forced to say something that they can’t take back.

Unfortunately, nothing happens.

When Nie Huaisang doesn’t immediately reply, Jiang Cheng waves a hand in front of their face. “Hey, Huaisang-xiong? Did you need something?”

“Uh, not really,” Nie Huaisang says. They cough into their fist, just to give themself another second to stall. Their heart is hammering faster than Nie Huaisang thought humanly possible. “I... just wanted to say something.”

“Okay?” Jiang Cheng sounds bored.

Nie Huaisang’s heart plummets. They squeeze their eyes shut, and begin to explain, in a frenzied rush, “I have to tell you something, and I just want you to hear me out. Please... don’t interrupt me until I’m done. And... promise not to laugh.” And then they laugh themselves, nervously, into their wrist.

Jiang Cheng sits up straighter. “Okay,” he says, “I promise. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Nie Huaisang quickly clarifies, “It’s just... Ah, this is embarrassing!” They suddenly wish they had brought one of their folding fans, or maybe a wide-brimmed hat, to hide their face behind. “I want to share my feelings,” they finally say.

“Your feelings?” Jiang Cheng asks. It’s clear from his voice that he has no idea what that implies.

Nie Huaisang sighs. Really, must Jiang Cheng be such a lovable meathead? Even at a time like this? But Nie Huaisang takes pity on their crush and says, “My... romantic feelings.”

“Oh.” Jiang Cheng immediately relaxes. “Okay. I don’t know how much I can help, but sure. Who do you like?”

Really?! Nie Huaisang resists the urge to slap themself in the forehead. Instead, they ball up their fists, prepare for the absolute worst, and blurt out, “You!”

“Huh?” Jiang Cheng blinks. And then he blinks again. “Me?”

Nie Huaisang nods. “Yes, you,” they say, “I... I’ve liked you since high school. And my feelings aren’t going away on their own, so... I wanted to let you know. If you reject me, maybe... maybe I can finally let go of this silly crush.”

“Oh.” Jiang Cheng looks... shocked, but not mad, not disgusted. “Huaisang-xiong, you know I... I don’t like men? Or, uh...” He gestures to Nie Huaisang’s body. “Sorry, I don’t know the correct terminology.”

Nie Huaisang shakes their head. “I know,” they insist, dangerously close to tears. But this is what they need, this is why they confessed. They can’t cry now, not after getting what they wanted. “That’s why I expect to be rejected,” Nie Huaisang explains, “I just... I need you to tell me I don’t stand a chance.”

“O-oh.” Jiang Cheng’s face falls, understanding finally setting in. “I had no idea.”

“No duh!” Nie Huaisang wants to laugh. They want to cry. They don’t do either. “I’ve been keeping it a secret. Not even Wuxian-xiong knows.”

An awkward silence falls between them. Nie Huaisang waits for the guillotine to finally fall, but nothing happens.

“Cheng-xiong,” Nie Huaisang chokes, pleadingly, “Tell me...”

“Tell you... what?”

Nie Huaisang throws up their hands, exasperated beyond belief. “Tell me I don’t stand a chance with you! Break my heart so I can finally move on!”

Jiang Cheng stiffens, his face twisting in pain. “That... that sounds so fucking brutal, though,” he argues, “I don’t... I mean, you’re not exactly a girl, but you’re not exactly a guy, either. So I don’t think I can...”

“Don’t think you can what?” Nie Huaisang feels their chest constricting. They desperately want to flee and pretend they never tried to confess.

“I...” Jiang Cheng bites his lip. “Huaisang-xiong, I know this might seem cruel to you, but I don’t know what to think right now. Can you... give me some time? I can give you a proper answer later, after the wedding.”

A proper answer? What is Jiang Cheng talking about?

“Cheng-xiong?”

Jiang Cheng stands up abruptly. “After the wedding,” he repeats, “I’ll... I’ll call you, okay? I just need some time.”

Then he walks off, leaving Nie Huaisang to gape into the empty air.

—

The night ends, with Nie Yuyan and Lan Xichen sneaking off together. Nie Huaisang watches them, and tries not to let their pain and confusion show on their face. Instead, they flash Nie Yuyan a thumbs-up and a smile.

At least one of them got the man of their dreams.

And Jiang Cheng didn’t say no, Nie Huaisang reminds themself. Jiang Cheng didn’t say no, but why?

Nie Huaisang packs up to head back home alone, but that question keeps playing on repeat in the back of their mind. And in their heart, a dim but determined spark of hope continues to flicker.

[the-clocktower]

Hey, CW! I love your blog and personally apologize that you were forced into making it (I feel that on many levels), but, uh, quick question... how bad are you at web design because this design is awful and I'm sorry. The body text is a poor font choice for readability, the tag color is the same as the background, everything blends in FAR too much, there's no visuals whatsoever which is fine, maybe, if the colors differed, but you NEED a background of #4d0066 and an off-white text and also

Danny waited patiently after explaining his plan clearly and concisely, giving his friends the time that they needed to think everything over before deciding. He gave them twelve seconds, which, really, that was plenty of time. “So? C’mon, let’s get to work! CW is only gonna be distracted so long.”

“No, no, no, back up here. You stole their laptop- They have a laptop?” Tucker looked some mixture of delighted and confused, Danny feeling a surge of empathy for the same exact feelings he had gone through when discovering the laptop and subsequently the blog that CW had actually made (an event shortly followed by Danny being forced to sit down and finish his homework). “And you want to… what do you want to do?”

“Change their blog, duh. I mean, look- Here, let me show you what it looks like right now.” Danny, still in his ghost form, flew over to Sam’s large and ridiculously extravagant bed before letting himself fall and bounce a couple times before settling, making sure he was stable before pulling the borrowed laptop out of his backpack.

Sam and Tucker were quick to settle on either side of him, both of them making similar noises of disgust and horror once Danny brought up the correct blog, which, thank you, honestly. CW finally made a blog and apparently knew nothing about design.

“Jesus… I feel like I might actually cry over this- Did they use the same color for the text and background- What is this font- Danny. Danny, I can’t- I’m having an attack.” Tucker dramatically clutched his heart and fell backwards as he ‘died,’ Danny snorting as he turned to Sam.

“Well… it could definitely use some work,” Sam admitted, taking the laptop and getting to the customization screen in a few short clicks. “There, now if anything happens, they can blame me and you won’t have to go around pouting at being yelled at.”

“I don’t pout,” Danny muttered, leaning up against Sam as Tucker scrambled and moved to sit on Sam’s other side so she was now in the middle, laptop easily reachable by all of them. “Okay, so, that background color has got to go first. Like. Now.”

“No, no, we need a title for this blog first,” Tucker argued, leaning over to jab a finger at the screen. “Look at that empty space. It’s making me cry, Danny.”

“Boys, boys, settle down,” Sam made a clicking noise with her tongue, clicking around on the screen before bringing up a list of themes - free ones, Danny noticed. Honestly, disgustingly rich and she still searched for whatever was free or cheapest, which… fair. “We’re changing this blog theme, first. It’s disgusting.”

The three were silent as they scrolled through the choices, communicating in grunts, mutters, and disgusted noises. Danny was almost sure they wouldn’t actually get anywhere before he was jabbing the screen hard enough to move it, “There. That one. It’s perfect-”

“We are not giving him a Miraculous Ladybug themed blog, Danny,” Sam sighed, Danny offended at how Jazz the tone she used was. “We’re all better than that.”

“Speak for yourself,” Tucker snorted, finally shaking his head. “Forget it, colors and title first, then blog. At least with colors we’ll know what we’re looking for better, right?”

“Alright, alright,” Sam groaned. “Colors and title first. What should we use for a title? I don’t know enough about them to choose anything good.”

Danny blinked as the two turned to look at him, panicking for a moment before blurting out the first thing that came to mind. The looks only turned into confused frowns and baffled expressions, which, okay, fair, since Danny had spoken in Latin.

Clearing his throat, he spoke it more clearly, giving a shrug, “Pulvis et umbra sumus. It’s something I learned when they were helping me with Latin, it just means we are but dust and shadow.”

Sam and Tucker went quiet, shared a look, and then nodded together before Sam was typing it in with a quiet, “Fitting.” It really was, when Danny thought about it, so, there. That was one thing done. “Okay, next up is title font.”

Clicking open the options, Tucker was half-shouting at once, “Comic Sans! Sam, we gotta give him Comic Sans-”

“No, no, choose that Grumpy one, now that is perfect.” Plus CW’s reaction would be hilarious.

“What? No- Comic Sans!”

“But Tuck, c’mon, the pun-”

“Both of you shut up,” Sam snapped, glaring at the two of them almost at once which was actually impressive, if Danny had to admit to it. “We’re giving them 1785 Baskerville.”

Danny and Tucker were both quiet, sharing a long look before Tucker decided he wanted to become a ghost ahead of schedule, “Boo, you goth.” He was shoved off the bed for his troubles, something which Danny managed to not laugh at if only so he wasn’t shoved off as well.

Once Tucker crawled back onto the bed they got back to designing, arguing over colors (“Oh my God, it should not be taking this long to have a sample color just pick something!”), font choices (“No, screw you both, we’re going to use Google Fonts like a normal family we are not having another fight over this!”), and which theme they should go with (“You know what? Screw it- Screw it! We’re just going to use the Tumblr Official theme like heathens and edit that!”)

It was taking longer than Danny thought it would, but slowly and surely the blog was coming together, Tucker having firmly taken over once it got to the actual coding part of the website, which was how they ended up with transparent textures to go with their background color (“Aw, but, guys, c’mon, this texture looks like stars! How cool is that!”), a transparent texture for the posts themselves (“I know you like your stars, Danny, but it won’t work with the font color and look, the parchment fits, don’t you think?”), and even a cooler looking blog title (“You know what? Here, no, we’ll put a text-shadow command on the title- There. That looks pretty cool, don’t you think?”)

There were a few hiccups along the way in choices (“No, no, make his avatar shape a square, because… you know. He’s such a square.”), but at the end they had a nice blog that really had taken way too long and Danny was half-certain that CW was about to show up and yell at them any second.

“You know,” Sam said at the very end, “This is still kind of a boring looking blog, everything considered. We could have gone way more crazy with all of this.”

“I mean… yeah, I guess so,” Danny admitted, closing the laptop and carefully putting it back in his bag. “But I didn’t want to like, you know, really make something crazy, I guess. I mean… Their blog sucked, but it’s still their blog, you know?” Danny shrugged, floating off the bed and giving a light stretch. “Dunno, just figured I’d tweak it a little to fit them better instead of having them waste time on it. You know, show off that wise old mentor who cares and has everything together and stuff thing.”

Danny barely even finished before a pillow being thrown at his face, Tucker laughing as Sam booed him. “You’re too nice! Get that sickeningly sweet attitude out of my room!” She was grinning even as she ‘yelled’ at him, Danny rolling his eyes with a laugh as he did as told.

Not even half an hour later and Danny was back where he started, laptop returned to its proper place and back open and waiting.

It was the latest ask that he saw in the inbox that had him pausing, Danny reading through the ask and unable to help himself whatsoever as he snickered before clicking the ask to respond.

you know what asker? you’re absolutely right so lets try this out

-Danny

            [Story and blog re-design by ibelieveinahappilyeverafter.]

[mobius-prime]

116. Knuckles the Echidna #21

The Forbidden Zone (Part Three of Three): The Many Facets of the Truth

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Manny Galan Colors: Barry Grossman

Cold opening, go!

As Heavy and Bomb are being swept away in the current, Locke's aircraft arrives and catches everyone in some kind of antigravity beam, pulling them up into the craft's interior. At one point before they're caught by the beam, just before they go over a waterfall, Heavy complains that they're in "deep doo-doo," and Bomb acts like this is some crazy newfangled term he's never heard of before, prompting Heavy to explain that he hears Valdez say it all the time when he's called on by Geoffrey. I just love the idea that "doo-doo" is some secret swear word or something in this universe. I mean, can you imagine some grizzled freaking Secret Service member being irritated by something his commander tells him to do and muttering "Oh, doo-doo" under his breath? Because that's exactly what Valdez apparently does. Canon.

Meanwhile, back in Haven, the various members of the Brotherhood start chattering to each other immediately about how much of a disaster this is for Knuckles to have found his way into Haven, while Tobor-itori Rex sulks in the background realizing his plans have just fallen to pieces right before his eyes. Archimedes poofs in to try to reassure Knuckles that "things aren't what they seem," but Knuckles isn't having it and brushes him off (which, to be fair, I know that Archimedes is probably just as indoctrinated into this regime as everyone else, but Knuckles still has a point that he could have told him more about everything before and actively didn't). Finally the Brotherhood decide to start introducing themselves and let fate decide what happens next.

Oof. Knuckles, having no real choice, follows Moritori to the medbay, and is surprised to see Hawking in one of the beds. Moritori explains how he fell into a coma when he restored Echidnaopolis to its proper place on the Floating Island, and quietly fills a syringe behind Knuckles back. Frankly, if I were Knuckles I wouldn't have turned my back on him even for a moment knowing what I know, but eh, we already know he doesn't always make the smartest decisions.

Meanwhile on Locke's craft, Geoffrey asks for more information regarding Elias' survival on the island all these years. He recounts how after the crash, he and the rest of the Brotherhood searched the craft and discovered everyone dead except for baby Elias and Queen Alicia.

The Overlanders came demanding to inspect the craft, but the Brotherhood was able to use their existing precedent as a neutral party in the war to deny them access, lying that they found everyone aboard dead. They decided not to return Elias to the king, fearing the Overlanders would think they took sides in the war, and instead raised him within Haven until he was ten years old, whereupon they released him to wander the island as he saw fit. They also put the queen into a stasis chamber, as she was in a coma and they didn't have the necessary medical knowledge to be able to revive her. However, they'd actually missed one survivor of the crash - the Colonel, who had been thrown clear of the wreckage when the craft broke up, landing somewhere further away. When he awoke, he wandered and was eventually found by the king's search party, but in grief he refused to go back with them and exiled himself to the royal compound on the island where he remained ever since.

While Locke is telling this story, the craft has been approaching the entrance to Haven, concealed by the holographic projection of the wall of flame. As they enter, with Geoffrey expressing his wish to speak directly to Tobor since he was particularly instrumental in helping clean up the site of the crash, we get to see what Fake Tobor is up to in the medbay. As you might expect, it's no good!

Well now, I hardly think Knuckles is the self-centered one here, Moritori. After all, you're the one who replaced a man's entire life with your own, sabotaging every relationship he's ever had and forcing him into a shameful exile just to get an edge for your own selfish goals. They fight some more, and Moritori reveals that his eyepiece can actually shoot lasers, because sure man, lasers! As they continue to duke it out, Locke lands his craft in their docking bay just as alarms start to go off. He decides to simply drop everyone off except for Lara-Le, giving Elias the task to take everyone to Sabre and privately telling him to tell Knuckles "I'm sorry." Wow, maybe Lara-Le has actually gotten through to him somewhat after all. As Elias' entourage makes its way through the hallways they narrowly miss being sliced in half by Moritori's lasers like they’re in a Resident Evil movie, and Knuckles starts tackling him again. Suddenly some heavy-duty doors start closing off the part of the hallway, and Archimedes poofs in to encourage him to jump to safety, trapping Moritori inside.

Just so we're aware, I don't think it's been mentioned so far, but Spectre is Tobor's son, meaning that for all he knows, right now he just saw his own father turn traitor. Of course, they'll all find out there's more to what's going on soon enough. Knuckles and Elias' gang meet up in the hallways, and Knuckles mentions something about hating having to fight the Dark Legion. At that moment the rest of the Brotherhood (sans Locke) turn up, shocked to hear an accusation that Tobor might have been affiliated with them, and Spectre opens the blast doors only to find that Moritori is gone.

According to Spectre, "Shinginta" is an old word in an ancient echidna language meaning "you will make friends with death." I'm not sure if we're meant to assume Moritori just randomly had pen and paper on him, or if he carved it into the wall with his eye lasers, but I'm going with the second option because it's way more metal. Back in Locke's craft, he's finally allowing Lara-Le to try to discuss Knuckles with him, but gets defensive almost as soon as she begins to speak, asking her sarcastically if she wants him to explain the birds and the bees, because he already has. Kind of a hilarious thing to include considering we're literally talking about Locke sitting baby Knuckles down and teaching him the ins and outs of echidna sex, and maybe not a comment necessary to include in a kids' comic, but hey, at least we know Locke is a good enough parent to give his son a decent sex education instead of leaving him in the dark like a lot of modern parents do, eh? Although, on the other hand, there's the ever-looming fact that Guardians are expected to enter into little heterosexual marriages and produce heirs for the family line, so maybe not so great of him after all. He then finds Remington, his pilot, Julie-Su and Wynmacher still stuck in their downed craft outside of Haven, because remember, all this time they've just been stuck in there while Knuckles randomly disappeared into the wall of fire.

Boi, you better get over your old feelings for her quick. Wynmacher is honestly a very likable character compared to him; look how polite he is to someone he knows broke his fiancée's heart, how kind he's been to Knuckles all this time treating him like his own son, and how well he looks after Lara-Le's feelings. He's a way better partner to Lara-Le than Locke ever was, and she deserves him after all Locke put her through. But anyway, meanwhile back in Haven, we finally reach the third day of Geoffrey's time on the island, and Elias brings him and the rest of the Secret Service to the chamber where his mother is in stasis.

Geoffrey plans to take the queen's stasis pod back to Mobotropolis straightaway, and Elias decides he will come with, as he wishes to see his father now that he knows he's alive and well. Knuckles, however, plans to stay in Haven and get the answers he's always wished for, and frankly has earned the right to know.

[kelmcdonald]

Thank You for the Support Last Month

New Post has been published on https://kelmcdonald.com/news/thank-you-for-the-support-last-month/

Thank You for the Support Last Month

This is crossposted from my newsletter 

Firstly, I want to give a big thank you to everyone who backed my patreon or bought something from my store in March. Emerald City Comic was canceled roughly a week after I sent out my last newsletter and you all helped soften the blow of losing that income. Things are rough for a lot of people, so I do super appreciate you all helping me out. More and more cons are getting canceled, so I would appreciate it if ya’ll stuck around. But I understand if you can’t.

Because of the new patrons, my patreon made one of its goals. Right now, pencil versions of each finished page get posted a couple of days after the finished version. I also just added a new patreon reward level though. I was gonna add it in June. But an influx of new folks and few backing  more than the current higher level ($5 a month) made me decide to launch it early. So as of now folks who back at $10 a month will get to be in crowd scenes. This is a reward that won’t happen every month, but when I have a street scene or need some background people, I’ll check to see who is a backer at that level. Right now, the next thing I’m gonna draw is Murky Water, the next book for The City Between. 

Speaking of which, I finished scripting Murky Water and started to thumbnail it. Have look!

It’s a little longer than other City Between books. I was originally gonna kickstart it in June, but now I’m thinking September is a safer bet. Maybe I’ll do it in August. But not enough of it will be done in June for me to feel good about hitting go. Right now my work is still mostly management related stuff. Like I’m prepping Cautionary Fables and Fairytales: Oceania for its Iron Circus version to come out and I’m working on the beginning parts of organizing Cautionary Fables and Fairytales: North America. Oceania is getting rereleased next year and then North America is slated for the year after. It’s a lot of answering emails and organizing stuff. 

Once that is all set, I have some commission to do for folks that asked about them last month. If you are also interested, I charge $75 for a black and white character drawing. Add $25 per extra character. Backgrounds are extra and will depend on how complicated they are. I like drawing backgrounds, they just take a long time. And for color the price basically gets doubled. 

So once editing and commissions are all set, I’m gonna move on the drawing Murky Water. Once it’s all penciled, then I’ll start making the kickstarter. Which is why the outlook is looking like September. 

Besides stressing out about money and working on editing and writing, I did a couple of new things. My pal Alison Wilgus has been making mini podcasts on her patreon. She interviewed me about werewolves and had me explain why werewolves are great. You can give it a listen here. The short answer is they are the proletariat of urban fantasy creatures. 

Speaking of werewolves being the proletariat, I rewatched The Order on Netflix. If you have not seen The Order, it’s about werewolves eating the rich. Well, not really. But that’s kinda what it’s about. Basically in it, there is a secret society of magic users called Order of the Blue Rose that recruits people via ivy league schools. It’s very Skull and Bones vibe to it. Main character wants to join for revenge reasons. One of the high up members of this society did something to his mom which isn’t explained in detail until late in the show. While on his revenge mission he is recruited by a secret group of werewolves that have been fighting the Order of the Blue Rose for basically forever. Since the magic users are very Skull and Bones mixed with the Illuminati, werewolf mission statement comes very close to basically being “eat the rich”. Just the magic rich. It’s not a good show per say. But it’s clumsily dealing with some interesting themes and worldbuilding. The last couple of episodes were a lot better than the rest of the season, so I hope that means season 2 will be legit good rather than clumsy but interesting. 

Also on the wolf front, I recommended Beastars last month. The anime got put on Netflix shortly after I got caught up on the manga and sent out my newsletter. I am basically obsessed with it now and have told multiple friends to watch it just so I could talk about it with them. This led to Jay Edidin replying to my text with “I will watch this vore romance cartoon. Because I love you.” It is very very good. Here is the opening credits. It has some very cool stop motion animation  

More wolves (sorta), I also got Animal Crossing. So like every cartoonist on twitter I’ve been building myself a nice island. My mission for the island is to fill it with wolves. The island is called Awooo. Also, I’m very good at fishing in the game. Not so good at catching bugs. 

Like last month, my Patreon is going to bills because all the conventions are getting canceled. 

[taesthetes]

the duality of man.

Once again, soft boys with pretty smiles—specifically one named Park Jimin—will surely be the death of you.

pairing: park jimin x reader genre: fluff type: college au word count: 4,632 words warnings: none author’s note: based on a true story — except he was my marketing project partner and not on the dance team but we’re great buds now lmao i’m never gonna let him live this down

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Group projects are the worst. You would rather shove a cactus up your behind or rip out a dry tampon than partake in one of those again. Hell has places designated for professors who assign those grade crushers. However, there is an even more special spot reserved for the heathens who assign random students to a group.

Because here you are, sitting in the library and tapping the end of your pen against your notebook absentmindedly, as you wait for your group members to show up. Your friends all said Basic Drawing was a good, fairly easy class to take to check off your lower division art requirement. What they did not tell you was that there was a group project focusing on frame by frame drawing animation with the minimum of one hundred frames that was worth forty percent of your grade.

You are quite certain Kim Taehyung is not going to show up, purely based on the fact that you saw him do several keg stands last night. Hungover is never a good look on anybody, and everyone on campus knows that Taehyung would not be caught dead looking like a two on a beauty scale of one to ten. As for the freshman in your group—Jeon Jungkook, was it? —you passed by him earlier today, and he gave you his sketchbook, mumbling something about drawing out some of his ideas in there and that he will not be able to make it to the meeting because of an impromptu football practice.

So, that really only leaves you with—

“Hey, ________.”

Park Jimin.

From what you know about him, he is a quiet one and is good friends with Taehyung but more on the wallflower side. Jimin greets you softly, and you give him a small smile in response. He slides into the chair across from you, pulling out his own drawing book and pencil.

“Tae can’t make it unfortunately,” Jimin says, and you nod in acknowledgement before replying, “Yeah, Jungkook gave me his notebook. He has football practice.”

You slide the notebook towards Jimin, who opens it and flips through the various drawings. “These are all really nice. Check out this hummingbird one.”

He flips the book towards you to give you a better look. “Oh, wow. That’s amazing.”

“You think we should do this one for the project?”

You hum quietly, contemplating. “Well, we can’t make Jungkook draw all one hundred frames of it, and it might be hard for the rest of us to replicate the bird. Maybe we can find each do separate animations with a connection?”

Jimin’s eyes light up as he nods enthusiastically. “That’s a good idea! I think Tae likes drawing nature best, so if Jungkook’s bird can fly around until it lands on a tree branch and we can zoom out from there to show a full landscape. Tae would be down for drawing that part.”

“But what about you? What do you want to draw?”

“Oh! Um...” Jimin is quiet, contemplating over his answer before answering quietly, cheeks reddening. “This might be a little weird, but... I like drawing mechanical things? Not just cars, but like old telephones and clocks and devices... and yeah...”

He trails off, and you give him a reassuring smile. “It’s not weird at all! That’s really cool! Those are always so detailed, and there are a lot of reflective surfaces, and those are never easy. You must be really good!”

Jimin brightens up, pulling out his own sketchbook. “Really? You think so? I’ve been drawing this toaster, and I thought it would be cool to do an animation of bread popping out of it, but Jungkook’s bird looks really pretty, and it’ll fit with Tae’s art better, too...”

“We can still include it!” Jimin gives you a curious look, and you quickly explain, “How about if the bread pops out from the toaster, but in a comical sort of way, like how in cartoons, the toaster looks like it’s being squeezed before the toast shoots out, and then a sunny side up egg is placed on the bread, but then we do a sort of rewind on the egg? The egg returns back into the cracked eggshells, which come together back into a solid egg, and then the egg cracks open, but a baby hummingbird pops out of it. I really like drawing food, so I can do the toast and egg part of it.”

Jimin is silent, mouth slightly agape, and you flush a little, rambling on. “I know it’s a little eccentric, but I think our professor will like it, and—”

“You’re a genius.”

Your cheeks warm up even more at his compliment. “I, uh, I—thank you?”

Jimin laughs, eyes turning into moon crescents, and your heart nearly jumps out of your chest. “You’re welcome, but really, that’s such a creative way to mix everyone’s strengths and just wow. Jungkook and Tae will love this.”

You smile widely. “You really think so?”

“Of course! And, um, since our parts of the animations are connected, do you want to work on them together?” Jimin shyly asks, fiddling with the ends of his scarf.

“Oh! Yes, of course, when are you free?”

“If you don’t have plans after this, we can work on them now?”

“Sounds great! I’m done with classes, so I’m free.”

You give him another smile, and he beams back at you brightly. Your heart skips a beat, and you internally chide yourself. Curse your heart for being so weak against soft boys with pretty smiles.

But you swear, something about this boy in particular makes you think that he will be the death of you.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You and Jimin manage to get through twenty of the frames needed that night and in the week’s class sessions, so he suggests meeting up in his and Taehyung’s shared dorm to work on the remaining ones on Thursday and Sunday evening. Taehyung would be busy with his play rehearsals around that time, so their room would be free. The two of you had already texted the group chat about the animation plans, and the others were quite enthusiastic about the idea. Taehyung had notified you all that he and Jungkook will work on their half of the project on Friday together.

You had finished all your Thursday classes for the day and made a stop at your dorm to collect your art supplies before making your way to Jimin’s dorm building. You are currently standing outside of the complex on the steps, texting Jimin to let you in. The sun was already beginning to set, and you can feel the weather getting chillier. You pull down the long sleeves of your shirt to cover your fingertips. You mentally chide yourself for not putting on an extra layer—Joy had warned you before you left your shared dorm, but you did not think it would be this cold.

“Hey, _______!” Jimin waves at you from the front door. You hurry over to him, the bag filled with art tools hitting against your side noisily, as the eighteen by twenty-four large drawing pad tucked clumsily under your arm nearly falls. Jimin quickly grabs the drawing pad, and you smile gratefully. “Thanks, Jimin.”

“No problem! Maybe next time, we should meet at your dorm—if that’s okay with you, I mean!” Jimin hurriedly adds, and you chuckle quietly. “That’s totally fine. My roommate won’t mind.”

“Great,” Jimin murmurs before stopping in front of an open door. “Well, uh, here’s my dorm. Feel free to sit anywhere! You can use Tae’s desk if you want—or mine! Either one is good!”

“Thanks, Jimin.” You set your items down carefully on the surface of Taehyung’s desk, which is surprisingly clean, compared to his art space you see every class. The two of you fall into a familiar groove as last time, one where Jimin draws his portions while you draw your solo frames of the eggs receding into the egg shells before cracking open once more. It may sound simple, but repeatedly drawing a realistic egg changing its position by a millimeter is tedious and quite frankly, a bit boring.

Last time, you and Jimin engaged in a game of twenty questions, but it ended up with thirty extra questions between the two of you. Amongst other things, you had learned that his favorite color was blue, he loves anything that is chocolate except for ice cream, he is a sucker for those Christmas Hallmark movies, and he still believes Candy Crush is the greatest game to ever exist, no matter what anyone says. He is a nursing major, hoping to become employed in the pediatric ward, and is minoring in studio arts with an emphasis in drawing, much like yourself. He also briefly mentioned being on the school’s dance team. You know your school has several dance teams, and although Jimin never specified, you can easily imagine him in ballet. You are not well versed in the types of dance, but from what you can remember when you saw The Nutcracker and Swan Lake as a child with your parents if that is anything to go by, Jimin would fit in with those elegant and graceful dancers.

“Do you mind if I put on some background music?” Jimin says, and you shake your head. “Go for it.”

The melodic, soothing notes of the piano fill the air before a lilting voice accompanies it. A couple minutes later, a softer voice is heard, and you are startled, peeking over to your project partner. Jimin’s gaze is concentrated on shading the corners of his subject as he quietly sings along. He looks over at you a few seconds later, flushing a pretty shade of pink.

“Sorry, I do that sometimes,” he apologizes, “Tae always complains about it when he’s studying. I’ll stop now.”

“No, it’s totally okay! Your voice is really nice,” you rush to say before wanting to smack yourself on the forehead. Your voice is really nice? That has to be the lamest compliment you can say. His voice is more than nice. It was absolutely wonderful and warm and—

“Really? You think so?” Jimin beams at you, and you lose your train of thought, flustered.

“Yeah, your singing is beautiful.”

“Thank you,” he shyly says. His smile becomes even brighter if that is even possible, and you feel that all too familiar rush of adrenaline to your heart as it pumps even faster.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence once more as you work on your drawings. An hour passes by quickly, and soon, the two of you finish your respective parts and start to work on the joint portions: the frames that incorporate the toaster and the bread. You and Jimin manage to complete four frames before you take notice of the time. The bright 9:48 p.m. stares back up at you on your phone when a message from Joy pops up, asking where you are. You quickly type back a response before hitting send.

“Hey, Jimin, it’s getting late. Do you mind if we stop here?”

“No, of course! It’s dark out, let me walk you back,” Jimin offers as he helps you put your art supplies back in your bag.

“Are you sure? It’s a bit far...”

Jimin frowns at you. “All the more reason to walk with you. It’s far, dark, and late. You shouldn’t go out alone like that.”

He slings your bag over his shoulder, shaking his head when you reach for the drawing pad tucked under his arm. “It’s okay, I’ll carry it! Did you bring a sweater? It’s a lot colder at night, too.”

“... No, I didn’t,” you say sheepishly, tugging your sleeves down. “But it’s fine! We’re walking, so the exercise will keep the heat circulating.”

His eyebrows furrow slightly before he goes to one of his drawers, rummaging through it and taking out a hooded sweater. “Here, put this on.”

“No, it’s fine, I—” You start to protest but he interrupts softly, “I don’t want you to get sick. Please put it on.”

Defeated and knowing he is right, you grab the sweater, quietly thanking him as you slip on the warm article. It smells faintly of laundry detergent along with a mix of something woodsy and citrusy. The hem is long, reaching mid-thigh, and the sleeves extend over your fingers, enveloping your hands entirely. Jimin smiles at you shyly, ducking his head, as the two of you begin to walk out of his dorm.

“You look really cute, _______.”

Your heart hammers loudly in your chest as you bring up your hand to cover your face, blood rushing to your cheeks and a silly smile making its way across your face. You murmur a quiet thank you to him, and crimson blooms on the apples of his cheeks.

Once again, soft boys with pretty smiles—specifically one named Park Jimin—will surely be the death of you.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

“Our baby is turning into an adult!”

It is Saturday night, and Jisoo is wailing, clutching onto you tightly, as the rest of your friends are scurrying around to hang up streamers and put up balloons around the sorority house. Rosé and Yeri are struggling to tape up the banner, and Eunha walks in with several bottles of sparkling pink lemonade. You had picked up the gorgeous cake decorated with loopy cursive saying “Happy Birthday, Lisa!” from the shop earlier, and it was stored safely in the bottom shelf of the refrigerator, which was also packed with drinks. Sooner or later, Lisa will walk in with Umji, who was trying to keep her preoccupied for the most part.

“She’s coming!” you hear Soyeon yell, and there are a few more screams before everyone finds their places just as the door opens.

“Happy Birthday, Lisa!” A chorus of voices exclaims as the grinning birthday girl walks in. A pink sash and crown is placed on her amid the cheers. Someone pops a bottle of champagne and turns on the music as the multicolor fairy lights blink on and off above your heads. The party has begun, and Yeri starts to hand out the pretty pink Jell-O shots made earlier. The party is in full swing, and Joy pulls you onto the dance floor among the other girls.

Several shots, a game of beer pong, and a slice of red velvet cake later, you may be more than a little bit tipsy, but you are having the time of your life. Jennie pulls you aside and away from the loud music, eyes sparkling with mischief, as she waves her phone in front of your face to show you a text from her boyfriend.

“The surprise is here.”

“What?” Your mind is slightly fuzzy as you try to concentrate and read the message. And as if on cue, when you reach the last word, the front door opens, and a group of boys come in. Your mind finally registers the connection between the text and your university’s hip hop dance team in front of you.

Oh, right. The surprise.

Sowon and Eunbi tugs Lisa forward to sit on a chair that has been placed in the center of the dance floor, and all the girls start to scream, raising their glasses, before quickly fumbling for their phones to videotape as the boys start to dance around the guest of honor. Shirts are thrown off, body rolls are done, and the birthday girl—scratch that, every girl in the room—seems to be highly enjoying it.

Jennie pulls you closer to the front. “C’mon, I need to get a good video of Jongin.”

“Why take a video when he’s going to give you a personal recap later tonight?” You hear yourself saying. Wow, your mind to mouth filter really takes a hit when alcohol comes into play.

She laughs, her cheeks turning a rosy shade, before she yells above the noise, “You’re right, but it doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the current show right now.”

Well, you cannot argue with that logic. And you deserve some eye candy after a stressful week filled with pop quizzes and semester paper deadlines. You reach for your phone, opening up the camera function, and start to film, focusing first on Lisa’s reaction. Grinning and cheering along with the rest of the girls, you zoom out to get the whole group dancing before your eye catches on one figure in particular.

Oh my god.

Your eyes widen and your mouth pops open in surprise as you drop your arm, phone loosely grasped in your hand. Your other hand comes up to cover your mouth in shock. You really had too much to drink because that cannot be—

Jimin makes eye contact with you, and he stops mid body roll.

You were right.

Jimin is going to be the death of you.

“I need another drink,” you shout to Jennie, quickly tearing your eyes away from him. She nods in acknowledgement, giving you a thumbs up before continuing to cheer on her boyfriend. You lightly push your way to the kitchen, making a beeline to the fridge. Taking out two bottles, you take two shots first without a chaser, ignoring the slight burn in your throat. You then mix vodka and soda into a red cup for yourself, chugging down half of it immediately afterwards. You really hope the effects of alcohol will come soon.

“Hey, can you pass me the vodka?”

“Yeah, here y—” You pause, turning over to face the familiar voice.

“Hi.” Jimin smiles at you sheepishly. His shirt hangs loose on him, unbuttoned still, with the sleeves rolled up. You try hard to concentrate on his face.

“H-hey, Jimin.” You take a sip of your drink. Maybe another sip, too, for good measure, you think to yourself before downing the rest of it. “So you’re a part of the hip hop dance team...”

“Uh, yeah, Jongin told us his girlfriend wanted us to, um, dance for a party.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Oh! Sorry, I’m probably making you uncomfortable, I should button this up.”

He reaches for the one of the middle buttons of his shirt, fumbling for a bit, and you cannot help but let a laugh bubble up from your throat. He halts, looking up with a questioning gaze.

“It’s just—you were literally out there, stripping and body rolling for everyone to see, and you’re worried about making me uncomfortable now?” You smile, the hazy feeling of alcohol making its way into your mind along with  the familiar skipping of your heartbeat all because of this all too endearing boy standing in front of you. “You’re really cute, you know that? Like not cute in the physical sense—I mean, you are, you have a cute face and cute butt but also wow, your body is like sculpted by the gods—but wait, I’m getting sidetracked, what was I saying again?”

Leaning against the counter, Jimin has an amused grin on his face now, and you are flustered, face warm from not just the alcohol. He laughs, reaching forward to tuck a loose strand of hair away behind your ear, and your face feels as if it is on fire. “You were calling me cute. But not in the physical sense, but also yes in the physical sense.”

“Oh! Right.” You find yourself nodding, and Jimin lets out another chuckle, smiling widely at you. “So as I was saying, you’re really cute, like your personality is adorable and soft and I have fun doing the art project with you and you make me hate group projects a lot less and you look really kissable, did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t know that, but thank you for telling me.”

Well, you hear no rejection in that, and the alcohol running through your veins gives you that boost of confidence to finally act on your feelings.

“So can I kiss you?”

Jimin is positively beaming at you, and you think his eyes look more sparkly than ever. He reaches over to softly grasp your hand and intertwine your fingers with his. You admire how soft his hand is, squeezing it lightly, before giggling to yourself when Jimin squeezes your hand back gently.

“How about this? How about you give me a kiss on the cheek now, and tomorrow, when you have had less to drink, if you still want to, you can kiss me?”

“Okay!”

Positively giddy, you lean over and press a kiss against his cheek. Jimin’s eyes crinkle as the corners of his lips upturn into another wide smile. He gazes at you tenderly as you stare at him with all the stars in your eyes.

Maybe, you think blissfully, you already died and went to heaven because you just kissed an angel.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You awake past five p.m. the next day, extremely glad that it was a Sunday. You are beyond grateful that you are experiencing no sort of hangover. You are briefly reminded of Irene telling you all to appreciate your youth because once you are out of university, your body just somehow knows and you will be suffering the worst kinds of morning hangovers after only a couple sake bombs the night before. Reaching for your phone, you flick through the mass of notifications, such as several Instagram ones for photos you were tagged in, no doubt from last night. Joy had texted you, saying she went to Sungjae’s place. You scroll back to the top, eyes widening when you read it.

[ 4:27 p.m. ] Jimin: hey, we’re still meeting up at your dorm to finish the art project? At 6?

Hurriedly, you swipe open his message and type out a response.

[ 5:13 p.m. ] you: yes! I’m so sorry I just saw this

Immediately, the three bubbles pop up, and a new message appears.

[ 5:13 p.m. ] Jimin: it’s cool, no worries!! I hope you’re feeling fine. See you soon!

You send back a quick confirmation text before throwing your phone aside with a groan. A rush of memories from last night hits you from your mortifying confession to Joy dragging you home soon after, and you just want to bury your face into your pillow and go back to sleep. Maybe last night was just a bad dream, and you did not make a complete and utter fool of yourself in front of your project partner.

Unfortunately, you are very much awake, and after laying there for thirty minutes, you pull yourself off your bed with a heavy sigh and start to get ready, brushing your teeth and washing your face. Embarrassed or not, you refuse to throw your grade out the window over a boy. You are going to get through this project no matter how painfully awkward it will be.

You change out of your pajamas and tug on a sweater and a pair of leggings that were thrown haphazardly on your desk chair. You finish just in time as the lighting up of your phone screen indicates another text from Jimin. When you check, it’s a short message saying he is at the front of the building. You respond, telling him you are coming down right away, before grabbing your room key, and going down to meet him. You take a few deep breaths in the elevator, hoping to calm down your racing mind and heart.

You see Jimin standing outside, drawing pad leaning against his leg and bag over his shoulder. Distracted, he taps away at his phone with one hand, while the other clutches onto what looks like a drink from the nearby coffee shop. You push open the door, greeting him nervously.

“Hey.”

He looks up at you, tucking his phone in his pocket, and seems startled for a millisecond before grinning happily. “Hey!”

He extends the drink towards you, and you hesitantly take it. “I figured some hot chocolate might help after all the drinking from last night. I wasn’t sure if you like coffee, but everyone likes hot chocolate, right?”

You smile gratefully at him, hands curling around the warm drink. “Thank you, Jimin. I love hot chocolate.”

“Yeah, of course! My friend works there, so I get a pretty good discount if you ever want to get another one. With me. Only if you want to!” He looks a little flustered as he follows you into the building and onto the elevator.

Your smile only grows wider as you begin to relax, taking a sip of the drink. “I’d love that. And I want to apologize if my drunken self made things super weird last night.”

“O-oh! Actually, I wanted to ask if you remembered what you said last night,” Jimin says and you nearly freeze in your steps as you get off the elevator. You would be lying if you said you had not hoped he would just accept your apology and move on.

“... Yeah, I do remember all the embarrassing things I said,” you mumble, unlocking your door and gesturing for him to come in. He walks in, carefully leaning his drawing pad against your desk and placing his bag alongside it. After closing the door, you carefully place the cup of hot chocolate on your nightstand before turning to face him.

“Were they all true?”

He stares at you, biting his bottom lip nervously, as you anxiously fiddle with the strings of the hooded sweater you pulled on, scared to answer. Taking a deep breath, he continues, “Because I think you’re really cute, you know that? But not just in the physical sense, but also yes in the physical sense. And you look really kissable, especially when you’re wearing my hoodie, did you know that?”

Shocked, you are frozen for a few seconds as your brain finally processes what he said. And then, you look down with a thudding heart and realize you are indeed wearing the sweater he lent you days ago.

“And,” Jimin speaks up, and your eyes meet his. He reaches over and takes your hand, interlocking your fingers once more. “My offer from Saturday still stands.”

His words from last night echo in your mind, and you can recall him gazing at you with the most tender smile. How about this? He says, how about you give me a kiss on the cheek now, and tomorrow, when you have had less to drink, if you still want to, you can kiss me?

And yes, you still very much want to.

So you do.

Jimin’s lips are soft and gentle, pressing against yours delicately, as his hands cup your face and your eyes flutter close. You can feel his heart thudding rapidly inside his chest, and you know yours is as well. Your fingers curl as they tug on the ends of his scarf, bringing him even closer to you.

When you finally pull away, Jimin places a small kiss on the tip of your nose, causing you to adorably scrunch your nose up before burying your face in the crook of his neck. He laughs, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you tightly. You are absolutely too cute and too soft for him.

He swears, you are going to be the death of him someday.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You all receive an A on the completed animation. And you will have to thank Taehyung and Jungkook one day for not coming to the first group meeting. Who knew having group members who don’t show up would pay off for once?

[semi-imaginary-place]

fe3h blogging 6 because organizational skills are for losers

oh hey yuri get to join chess club[3:24 PM]balthus DID go to the officers academy twice I’ve been trying to reconcile the route differences... it should be that everything that happens in a different route is also possible in the route you are looking at which ever one that may be. Now all there is is figuring out why those differences exist. or alternately to come up with a probability model to explain those differences. Let’s take the major difference of CF vs VW, AM, and SS. In CF unlike the other routes, Rhea is not captured, she organizes the knights and joins with Faerghus. In CF unlike other routes Byleth chooses to side with Edelgard and Rhea attacks them in the Holy Tomb, this is the only difference. Rhea is incredibly entitled when it comes to Byleth and so takes Byleth’s choice as a deep betrayal as the one who was supposed to be on her side chose not to be. In the battle of Garreg Mach, Rhea then also doesn’t entrust the Church to Byleth. Now how does this connect to Rhea avoiding capture in the battle? It could be she was more on guard after the Holy Tomb in BE, it could be that overall Rhea is likely captured but there is a chance she isn’t. Either way because she isn’t captured, she is there to rally and organize the knight’s of Seiros. In the other routes why didn’t Seteth do it? idk man. The Knights and Faerhgus together are better able to fend off the Empire and with the added security, keep Cornelia, the Agarthans, and Edelgard from framing Dimitri with assassination. Thus in CF Faerghus is in a more unified and powerful position with Rhea running the show. Never quite got why Garreg Mach was abandoned by all the sides given how much the characters talk about its strategic location etc. etc. In SS Rhea degenerates and causes the church to become a rampaging hivemind. Rhea is assumedly also in the palace in AM, but we do meet her in VW. This leads to a few possibilities, either she also dragon degenerated in those routes but the credits roll before we get to see that or she doesn’t. Either way she hold the potential to do so. This is probably the strongest probability argument in the game as we are shown no reason why she does in SS but does not in VW. Rhea is like a ticking time bomb. Maybe they should have blood minstrated like half the church. And then the Agarthans, are they just chilling around underground in AM? yeah, probably. They’re probably back to biding their time just like they have the past 1000 years.

I would like to talk about the three categories by which I evaluate how much I like a character in a series. 1. Personal preference: how much does the character's personality appeal to me on a personal level. Would I want to be friends with this person in real life. Do I just really wish they were real and want them in my life? 2.  Character writing: how well written is the character. How good is their character arc? What is the grade of execution? 3. Role in the story: what do they bring to the series as a whole. If they are a villain, are they a good villain? Comic relief. The Bro character. No matter the archetype, how well is it done. What is their narrative and thematic significance.

Let's look at the 3 Lords of Fire Emblem: Three Houses. Please note that due to the branching story line and the ability of the player to choose the cast, I will not be focusing on a character's role in story as much as I usually do. Edelgard Personal preference: low. Her personality clashes with mine Character writing: high. Three Houses characters in general are well written. Edelgard feels like a person, her behavior is internally consistent, she's always herself. One of her main flaws explored in the game is how Edelgard will tunnel-vision and double down on a decision, a path even when it is no longer the best option. Role: high. In Crimson Flowers and to a lesser extent Silver Snow Edelgard acts as the central character, she drives the story. As the villain in 3/4 routes, Edelgard is incredibly interesting, acting as a counter point to the other Lords as well as to Byleth in Silver Snow.

Dimitri Personal preference: low. At first I didn't care, and then he was just annoying. He was solidly #2 on my to-punch-list in Azure Moon after Gilbert. Character writing: high. Dimitri has the easiest to notice character arc in the game as it is the main focus of Azure Moon. As such the most time is spent on his arc and it is very strong. The journey Dimitri goes on as he struggles with himself and his trauma is well written, its only weakness being that it hinges on the player (me) caring about him (which I do not). Role is the story: medium high. the overarching story of the rightful king reclaiming his throne nicely parallels the story of Dimitri reclaiming himself. Thus the external journey mirrors the internal one. Azure Moon most strongly brings the human element to Three Houses and this is both a strength and a weakness.

Claude Personal preference: very high. I wish I had a Claude in my life. His personality meshes well with mine and my life would be enhanced with the addition of his company. When I say Claude is my favorite, this is the category I am usually talking about. Character writing: high. Claude has the subtlest characterization and character arc of the Lords, this is further obscured due to mischaracterization by the English localization team and English voice actor. The characters in Three Houses in general are brilliant and Claude is no exception. He's complex and multifaceted as any real person is, and seeing him grow in to his own in Verdant Wind is a beautiful thing. Role in story: high. Claude's role in the Three Houses is also very interesting, his objectives especially in White Clouds turns the game into a mystery thriller which is breaking edge for a Fire Emblem Game. Claude's background is also a bit different from the others and so following along his story, you are able to gain perspective and see all of Fodlan for what it really is.

Jeralt personal preference: meh writing: good role: dad

wait. wait. so are the 4 apostles are called saints in the intro, but were they also children of the goddess?  so i can see indech and macuil dipping after the war of heroes and cethalenn went into a regenerative coma so that takes her and cihol out of the picture, but where were the 4 apostles during the war?  and why does balthus' pants have a specially colored patch for his crotch.  ... did balthus go to the academy twice?  dimitri really went “i’d be nice to just sink into the earth you know” huh. i just started cindered shadows so i can't really comment but... the whole "abyss is necessary for garreg mach" is such horse shit. like oooohhhhh we must have an oppressed underclass to maintain our standard of living.  why do the ashen wolves even exist. its not like there's a school down there and yet a bunch of people have uniforms.  its not like they took some of the officer's academy uniforms either. why waste resources making custom uniforms? oh hey yuri get to joisn chess club. balthus DID go to the officers academy twice. I wonder what happened to Constance. Also hello??? Intsys you have a kidnapping and torture as backstory problem, especially when its happening to female characters. Hapi get’s kidnapped, tortured and then imprisoned, no wonder the life has left her eyes. Also I don’t trust this Aelfric dude. He set up the ashen wolves “house”, but wouldn’t those resources be better spent on food and medicine. nepotism ho! your parent were good so you must be too

anyone else find Jeralt and Sitri's relationship a little weird. Hundreds of years old dude romances incredibly sheltered 19 year old with little life experience. and she and alfric idolized Jeralt when they were young. sitri was born in 1139 and died 1159 from childbirth.  I mean yeah Sitri's an adult and totally consenting and loving, and the relationship is pretty cute and sweet, but.... its kinda weird.... Like when you hear about a 30 year old dating a 60 year old, everyone's well into adulthood, they're consenting adults who can do whatever they want,  i have no objections,... but its still kinda weird. WHAT'S WORSE IS THAT THEY DEVS HAD LITERALLY NO REASON TO DO THIS they could have made her any age they wanted to. She could have been 35. but nooooo they didn't do that

the part that bothered me about maneula's writing. Is how the writers talk down on her for having emotions. You see this strongly in the hanneman+manuela paralogue. Where they make her do something impulsive which has negative consequences, which is fair. But then the game punishes her for being too emotional. "being too emotional" now where have i heard that critique before. This is especially in contrast to the game praising hanneman's intellectual rationality. how do i say this... whenever hanneman and manuela argue the game always takes hanneman's side and is overly harsh on manuela.  Oh hanneman is right that she should not have run off after a rumor about the death knight like that, but its the framing of the scene that bothers me.

the way people talk about the abyss reminds me of the goldfish bowl metaphor. the abyss provides sanctuary, but in it thye are also trapped. huh so edelgard doesn’t recognize dimitri. people sure do like aelfric, reminds me of a cult of personality, but it seems so genuine... A great rhea’s golems are back. they talk!! I was just joking about people’s souls being bound in there!!! aelfric is one of the cardinals!!!!! I've been trying to find these dude for months!!!!! you hear these lines going on and on about the cardinals. oh. he’s part of the seiros hivemind then. hey kids. if he’s a cardinal than the church probably already knows. this don’t tell the church stuff sounds like a trap. that letter is suspicious af. yuri clearly wants something, but what is he up to,,,

Yeah.. it really sounds like the 4 apostles were nabateans, but if that were so are constance, hapi, balthus, and yuri really descended from them? the 4 saints bloodlines in adrestia are from those gifted blood by the saints. yet i do believe the 4 apostles fled to different corners of fodlan, what remains in question is only if there in their new homes they gave blood (like rhea did to save jeralt), or actually did have kids.

i cant believe balthus got put on the bus via giant bird. ah so aelfric and yuri are cooperating with the agarthans. thats what they were up to. wow yuri really is fandom claude, i can still hear those idiots complaining that claude wasn’t up to anything and that he didn’t betray byleth. huh so yuri is struggling with split loyalty and the solution he came up with was to help aelfric but give byleth hints. 

constance calling the holy mausoleum a wretch hovel in on par with sylvain calling the dining hall filthy. huh so that was what yuri was planning. wasn’t expecting the double agent ploy.

so this does not take away from aelfric's decisions, but if rhea hadn't been a coward and just buried sitri instead of keeping her is storage where anyone could find her, this never would have happened. who know's maybe aelfric would have still made horrible decisions, but not this one horrible decision.

wait wait wait. rhea, what happened last time you used the chalice to try and resurrect sothis. what beast was created then? wait wait. nemesis dies and sothis’ heat and bones were retrieved in 91. the blood chalice ritual happened in 185. That’s enough time for rhea to have conducted her first experiment implanting the creststone into someone and having them live out their full life.

 prior to cindered shadows i thought claude had 2 given names much like many real world people of dual identity do (multiracial people, chinese americans, japanese americans, etc.), so claude is his name but he also has an almyran name. now though I am leaning towards the idea that claude is a name he took up upon entering fodlan given what he says to balthus at first and the presence of a claudia riegan in the past. from the feast of decadence: where is boramas? and i hope the bit about watching northern swordsmen ripped apart by wild animals at dinner was a play or something. why do books end up in the abyss anyways. why not burn them throughly. rhea certainly knows people have been living down there.  i wonder who built abyss. its older than garreg mach for sure.  real ironic how the blue lions idolize loog when he was an agarthan pawn not unlike edelgard.  rhea's choice contributed to the power imbalance between sreng and duscur compared to faerghus chevalier became village elder and gave everyone blood during wars. half got crests half turned into demonic beasts. that solves that. 1/4 down

i can’t believe aubin almost died in a ditch before yuri’s mom saved them. well that’s one more person with a really long life span

balthus: describing "bashbros" me: its called a life partner. "Balthus became son-in-law to the great commander, Nader" ... what. also why is the balthus yuri pairen ending the only one balthus ends up broke and on the street in. also where's my holst supports. scratch that. WHERE IS HOLST. oh yeah and you all were crying about byleth potentially outliving everyone, well yuri does too

ashen wolves supports that should have happened. Balthus: Manuela. Yuri: Mercedes. Hapi: Ignatz, Petra, Claude. Constance: Lorenz

Also let judith be a playable character. Claude and balthus already have like half a support with her.

why do feel like yuri and sylvain would be a disaster. and disaster in that they'd hurt each other's feelings

claude whenever balthus opens his mouth: shut up shut up shut up. shut up and go away. goddess. please. no. i enjoy seeing claude annoyed more than i probably should

me taking the fe3h developers by the shoulders and shaking them furiously: WHY DON'T CLAUDE AND HAPI GET A SUPPORT. THEY EVEN BOTH HAVE CELESTIAL MOTIFS!  claude would also empathize with hapi as an outsider of sorts, as well as both sharing a desire to explore the world.  i think the riegan crest and timotheus crest got mixed up in development. in tarot readings the moon is associated with darkness, an unclear mind, madness, creativity etc. it suits "dark dragon" far more than "star dragon". but that doesn't explain why claude gets the unique combat art Fallen Star me one again taking the fe3h developers by the shoulders and shaking them furiously: WHY DON'T YURI AND ASHE HAVE A SUPPORT!! THE APPARENTLY ALREADY KNOW EACH OTHER. THEY HAVE SIMILAR BACKGROUNDS. THEY'RE BOTH FROM FAERGHUS. THEIR BATTLE DIALOG SAYS MEANS THEY WANT TO BE FRIENDS

No bathus/manuela support either LET THEM MAKE POOR LIFE CHOICES TOGETHER. Balthus can have a little milf, as treat

...  yuri is very pretty in part 2

Edelgards biggest flaws are her desire for control and her stubborness or the way she will double down on a decision and refuse to budge. Claude's biggest flaws are his inability to trust, and showing his hand too late. A bit more on that last part. A large part of Claude's strategies involve downplaying his side and biding his time. This strategy is especially weak though to an aggressive opponent like Edelgard who can bulldoze him before he has time to play out his plan. Part of the problem is that Claude is very reactive but not very proactive (its one of the reasons I like pairing him with Edelgard and Petra). He won't just go for something the way Edelgard does, he's wait for the right opportunity. This difference you can also see in how the deal with the Church. Edelgard declares war on them because she thinks they are the root of Fodlan's social problems and need to be taken down. She makes a decision she believes in and readies herself for the consequences. Claude actually believes much of the same (The Church is the root of Fodlan's problems) but would much rather avoid those consequences (fall out with the Church). You see in Verdant Wind he will make use of the Church because the are useful. He's even willing to spout Church rhetoric and propaganda (Byleth as a Church symbol) if it suits his end goal of transferring power to an individual who will shape Fodlan's future to his liking (he does have an altruistic and humanitarian goal much like Edelgard). However in doing so he risks empowering the Church even more. In short Claude will put up a facade that he doesn't agree with on an ideals level and so is always in danger of that facade becoming real and failing his goals. yeah so claude character development has him learning to trust and being more proactive in his goals. so i like pairing him with characters that put him on a similar growth trajectory

wait how are the Fetters of Dromi (Aubin) and Vajra-Mushi (Chevalier) around simultaneously with Aubin and Chevalier. Aubin was last seen 20 years ago and the tales of elder giving blood don’t seem ancient, so were they recently killed?

ok if the vajra-mushi is a replica, what’s it a replica of? that implies an original. and its still able to turn people into demonic beasts. how????

unpopular opinion: I hate seteth. his face pisses me off and every time he opens his mouth I want to punch him. please die.

You know... i'd expected someone to have written a modern au of felix and sylvain being roommates with unresolved sexual tension.... but no its been 9 months and I haven't seen anything. Oh I've seen roommates where its like the new and uncomfortable experience of sharing space with someone you dont know and I've seen modern au where they are childhood friends. But i seriously have not seen the specific scenario where they are childhood friends AND roommates. Like... uuugh its just sylvain. But also uuggh its just sylvain?!? Maybe I'll just have to do it myself... but im no good at writing... 

What if glenn was 160cm but the kids never noticed (except sylvain) because they're so much younger

I want a spin off fighting game starring ferdinand and caspar. Honestly i just wanted to see ferdinand get into a fistfight with someone like in his support

On a fandom level I think the golden deer are the least popular for a number of reasons:

1. some of the characters only reveal their depth in supports and paralogues. Or in other words you must seek out these character to get to know them. Ex: Lorenz, Leonie, Ignatz. I mean without doing their supports you'd never know that Ignatz is the smoothest out of the Golden Deer the the most likely to get a date. If Sylvain is a poser, Ignatz is the real deal 2. Related to the above the writing sometimes relies too heavily on a character gimmick. Ex: Raphael, and Lysithea to a degree 3. Compared to other houses there are less established dynamics. Other characters (Linhardt and Caspar, BL childhood friend squad, etc.) can play off of each other and this can make them more emotionally accessible to a player. In the beginning especially the golden deer act more like co-workers than friends, they are the least cohesive as a house (which means their growth is that much more delicious). 4. the golden deer route in general is less popular and some characters don't appear in other routes so the sheer amount of exposure these characters get is less than other houses. a lot of people in the "fandom" have only played one or 2 routes and those usually include either azure moon or crimson flower/silver snow. people will also just delete or add things to characters.

OK Jp audio thoughts: tiny grandma sothis Alois is gravelier and yells a lot  I've been replaying the line where claude giggles in the jp audiio. How do i record audio ignatz is such a BABY in the japanese version. Like a small bunny Edelgard sounds more princessy Claude is more light hearted, less sassy more... boyish? like that one old school boy character trope that used to be a main character thing and is now more a side character thing eng dimitri more yell-y and feral.  jp dimitri is a lot more subdued and dead inside. but the delivery of the lines makes what he is saying all the more disturbing. dissonant serenity.

your path lies across my grave is such a raw line

Why did yuri get a different part 2 sprite.  he should age the same rate jeralt did. And in his paired ending with byleth? He apparently looks about the same after decades

Hilda and catherine would be EXCELLENT war masters if the devs weren't sexist

So almyra's big. We don't know how big. Fodlan is 2/3 of europe and almyra is bigger so i imagine there's a diverdity of biomes. I imagine the south coast is mediterranian. But that hinges on how subtropical adrestia is. Medditerranian climates are most common at 30-40 lattitude. The map of almyra we can see on the map is the same lattitude as faerhgus. This could be the greenest part of Almyra. I imagine almyra has both hot and cold deserts with a large plain covering the center. The rest would be scrubland/chaperral. All we know is that claude grew up somewhere with no big trees. I imagine that almyran government is more meriocratic than fodlan but that may vary region to region. I have an idea for both a centralized and decentralized almyra. Each regions leader is like the strongest most organized person around. A bit of nepotism may be involved. The exception would be the coast region which is more sedentary (some parts of almyra are semi nomadic) and may have a republic. Decentralized almyra would work kinda like the eu or us with seperate nations and a mediator for when almyra needs to act as a whole. That mediator aids negotions between regions and keeps things together. Mediator would be a council/appointed position. In a centralized almyra there still wouldn't be a monarachy. The king would choose a sucessor. So the king's kid would have a better chance than anyone but its no garuntee. I like the idea that like the 30 closeat relatives has a last one standing system as part of the selection system. This would allow for a dynastic style if ruling where there's a ruling clan but not direct line of descent 

Everyone keeps drawing older felix with long hair but I'm half convinced that 3 years post game he just lops,it off one day or gets a buzzcut

So a lot of people including me have long suspected Claude had an Almyran name and the validation right now just feels so great. Khalid!  Given his dialog in cindered shadows I think its more likely Khalid is the name his parents gave him and Claude is the name he took up upon coming to Fodlan

Things have never been easy for Claude, he says in his s support that he's going, to do it (the whole game/war) all over again. It's heavily implied that things to not end well for Claude outside of VW. i don't think the Almyrans would value a surrender to a fodlander tho. Claude in VW proves his competence as a military commander and leader by controlling all of fodlan. Its stated in some of his paired endings that the current king has some say in who the next king is as Claude had to earn his father's approval to ascend the throne. Don't forget that the general Almyran populace hates Claude. He has to prove himself by their standards before any respect is given and in SS/CF/AM he doesn't do that. Remember that the Fodland stereotype is of cowards and that Almyra values spectacles of strength/fighting prowess over tactical efficiency (invading fodlan's throat isn't for the purpose of gaining land/etc. its for the warriors to show off how strong they are), so they wouldn't value strategically weakening your nation (leicester) to stave off imperial invasion, to them that just looks like cowardice and incompetance. not only that he endangered and wasted Almyran soldiers in fighting a foreign war. Remember that no one really knows about Claude's plans outside of VW, he keeps his cards (too) close to his chest, and in non-VW routes the facade of weakness becomes a reality and all his schemes crumble. and he has little to show for his time in fodlan. Claude is less likely to experience character growth outside of VW, but I think there is potential for Claude's character growth outside of VW. One reason for this I'm just not a fan of Byleth's dating sim powers where everyone just falls head over heels for them. For every character and especially the lords, Byleth acts as a catalyst for the character's growth, but Claude (of the lords) is the least dependent on Byleth so I do believe he could have found some of the connections seen in VW if not to that extent. (also I'm a sucker for found family)[4:22 PM]But Byleth does act as the heart and glue of the golden deer so things wouldn't be that great for Claude and co 

So we cam see both turkic and persian influences in almyra but I've always wondered at the balance. From the turkic side we have the warrior culture and horse riding. This is also where my speculations on a nomadic society and non monarchy forms of government come from. Also note turkic (central asia, like the mongols) and not turkish (one of the turkic ethnicities). On the other side is ancient persia which was a center of science, technology and learning, a materially wealthy empire with imperial dynasties. These are very different and so balancing headcanons has always been challenging to honor both sides. You can see people are all over the spectrum in fandom.

Me shaking dorothea by the shoulders: YOU ARE VALID. I AM PROUD OF WHAT YOU HAVE ACCOMPLISHED. EAT THE RICH

im a caught between the dual desires of seeing sylvain succeed at something and be really cool, and seeing sylvain publicly make a fool of himself. sylvain miserable for mundane reasons is such a good look. I pin Sylvain in a headlock and force 2 gallons of respect women juice down his throat

In any universe. Claude's weekly schedule would fill me with terror.

Leonie and dorothea both have "I know a guy" vibes

A while ago I complained that the fodlan calendar doesn’t make sense. Why does the year begin on month 4? Well I recently got around to reading through the abyss library and it confirms that fodlan used to be on the gregorian calendar with months 1-12 lining up with our january-december which in a lot of countries are just month/moon 1-12 and then seiros and the church brought in a new calendar system (imperial year and "___ Moon" naming system). so combined with the other hints from the agarthans (un symbol, ICBMs, etc.), pretty much confirms that fodlan is indeed a post apocalyptic modern world. So the weird calendar system DOES have an in universe justification!