#all things adrienne

[archer-kacey]

On the Bendy books not being canon: this might be a good thing??? Because at least Adrienne Kress can keep doing what she’s doing without having to work around BATDR. With the ink clone concept (is everybody an ink clone? What actually did happen?) and Joey’s intentions for the cycle (from making living cartoons to torturing ink Henry?), it feels…unclear what is canon anymore. I mean BATIM is stated to be cannon but in what regards? The cycle happens but what about the audio logs? Are we even sure of who died and how anymore? There’s just a lot of things left open enough for the meatley to softly retcon things while not technically contradicting BATIM. And while BATIM is vague enough to fit BATDR’s changes…what about the books? What are we supposed to make of Joey “murders teens” Drew from the books being the same Joey in BATDR who’s being painted in a goodish light at the end of BATDR and in the archives? Hell, Tom’s characterization in BATIM has already been pointed out as inconsistent with the books.

It just strikes me that the meatley always told stories installment to installment, throwing out a flashy twist and vague storytelling. And this is coming from someone who likes BATDR. While Adrienne Kress, as a novelist, has to tell a complete and satisfying story within each book. And like you mentioned, a lot of what she gave us in those books were what people loved about the characters. At least those versions of those characters get to be preserved in someway?

I'll try to address as much of this as possible lol!

I have a lot of thoughts about this ask, and there are some points where I flat out disagree, but I do see where you're coming from! I do agree that the books not being canon leaves things more open-ended, which is a strength in some aspects and a weakness in others.

"...at least Adrienne Kress can keep doing what she’s doing without having to work around BATDR."

I agree in the sense that BATDR is messy. I don't think she had much trouble working around it, though? I mean, we see Wilson in Fade to Black, so I don't think she's afraid of bringing up BATDR.

"(is everybody an ink clone? What actually did happen?)"

Henry at the very least is an ink clone, expressly made for the purpose of Joey having a Henry-shaped stress ball to kill at his convenience (as stated in BATDR.)

If we look at the novels and games, there are three main ways to end up in Cartoon Hell: First, just be created there, like Ink Henry. Second, you can basically be teleported in via the Gent glasses, as shown in Fade to Black. Thirdly, you can just Die In Ink, like Audrey in BATDR. These technically don't contradict each other, but holy hell that's a lot of ways to end up on the wrong side of a Gent Pipe.

"Are we even sure of who died and how anymore?"

Yes, for the most part. We have letters from Allison (who also mentions Thomas), and Wally Franks. We also have confirmation that Henry left to go live with his wife. And we see Joey himself at the end of BATIM.

As for the rest of the cast, we have to think of Henry's Cycle as an imperfect reflection of real events.

The audio logs in particular do line up with things that really happened, and usually we can rely on them. Take Shawn, for example. In BATDR he mentions that he's leaving the studio. Notice that there's no coffin in BATIM with his name on it. In BATIM, Susie mentions that Joey has a proposition for her. Notice that she does have a coffin, and the outcome of her inferred death is...well, Alice Angel. (The details of how she and Sammy ended up in Cartoon Hell are a little fuzzy, but that's a whole other discussion entirely.)

"What are we supposed to make of Joey “murders teens” Drew from the books being the same Joey in BATDR who’s being painted in a goodish light at the end of BATDR and in the archives?"

Oh boy. If you want my opinion, BATDR really shits all over Joey Drew's victims, regardless of his kill count in the books.

Let's pretend the books don't exist for a minute. Joey still manipulated a woman with the end goal of getting her killed for his own selfish gain. He almost worked his best friend and business partner to death and kept him from seeing his wife for days on end. His accountant died in a horrible and unspecified manner on studio premises. Norman, Bertrum, and Lacie all died as a result of working at JDS as well. Not only did Joey kill real people, but he made an artificial world in which basically all creatures suffer. Don't even get me started on the Lost Ones in Chapter 4 (which include children, by the way.)

It's also confirmed by Grant in BATDR that Gent was "pouring in some funds", and while you could argue it's just for research without killing anyone...they still made the Ink Demon. Nobody's gonna sit here and tell me that A. the Ink Demon never escaped, and B. His kill count was 0. No way.

I get really sussed out at BATDR saying "Well, Joey kind of raised a kid so he's paid his just desserts!" In short, that's not a Bendy book issue, it's a BATDR issue.

"...a lot of what she (Adrienne) gave us in those books were what people loved about the characters."

I'm not gonna lie...I really wish she was a writer for the actual games. Lol.

[halfusek]

Irt you post about the archives- Have you read any of the novels? I feel like some of them, like Joey's autobiography, help give a bit more insight to these characters, at least a little.

As for Nathan, I think it's supposed to represent that, unlike Joey, he really was a self made man with good intentions, and that highlights that Wilson was trying to live up to the shadow of his father and instead of being the kind of man his father would have raised, Wilson chose to be as vile as he is.

Memory Joey on the other hand, really is just a representation of this flawed idea people had of the man, only the good parts of Joey that he chose to show. The idealized version of himself that he saw, rather than who he really is. It makes sense to have that contrast there, but he really is just a plot device rather than his own character and it's a shame.

I can't say much for the others, because they feel very lacking. They have a lot of good moments, like the "I'm beautiful." "Always were." scene for example, but outside these moments they feel somewhat empty.

It's unfortunate, because if they had the time, team, and resources, they could have had an incredible story to tell, but limitations with money and staff because of the irl studios layoffs and TheMeatly & Mike Mood making really, really bad choices with their business caused the game to fall short of what it could have been.

we must have read different books because it felt to me like batdr completely ignores book lore

honestly i just feel like the books have been made irrelevant and theyre just kind of telling us stories about these random characters? like adrienne is doing her best to describe these characters but im not gonna lie, as there was some potential to them batdr has been a huge turn off for me for reading anymore (plus that upcoming book is gonna have a yet another completely new character as the main protagonist and im just... bruh how about yall expand upon the characters you already have because this universe is just becoming very messy and full of shallow characters instead of having fewer but interesting ones?? im not against new characters being introduced but they just keep on adding then and then it feels like what we're reading doesn't even matter in the grand scheme of things, that sucks)

sure we get an insight to joey... the only character that actually HAS a lot of complexity and screentime in the games so like yea i like joey and i enjoyed his book but again it felt more like an extra rather than anything that helped expanding the story or the world, i dont really understand their strategy for these...

nathan's and wilson's relation is just uninteresting and shallows wilson's character in my opinion, like what he says to you in game makes out nathan to have been some sort of a horrible father and that'd be kinda interesting and would make wilson a morally grey character

but no he's just a spoiled brat or whatever his archetype is supposed to be and we can throw away the entire symbolism about nathan and bockswell lotsabucks (that cartoon cat from the comics) and the fact that there is supposed to be nathan arch junior and senior making it clear that they changed their minds about the plot just to surprise people (even worse, they ADMIT to doing that in the interview that recently came out... as if it was a good thing ToT) but by doing so they just contradicted clues that existed there before that we could have gotten away from the damn books! like this just makes me not wanna buy any other books anymore because its a clear message that it doesnt fucking matter if we read them, theyre just there to tell us stories about random characters that also wont even appear in the games anyways but we will get 200 more audiologs from other randos we wont care for

again i gotta be sorry for being so negative but im just SO disappointed with batdr and with what the archives had to say

like whatever they are telling their story, its not a sin to be bad and scummy at writing (scummy as in not understanding that youre baiting people into buying extra things for understanding the lore and then making sure you surprise people anyway)

so basically

there is no use for theorising because the message is that they just want to surprise us so if we guess where theyre going they will just change the story no matter how much its gonna suck and contradict what happened before

i cannot comprehend how meatly sees that as a good thing but i guess thats how he wants to tell his stories and whatever makes them happy man

but i find it incredibly shady when you advertise your game as a mystery to be solved and personally this kills my enjoyment of the franchise

[scare-ard--sleigh]

what should be my real housewives of beverly hills replacement once i catch up? keep in mind that this is to fill a reality tv specific hole in me and i watch that show bc i love Mess !!

[ms-march]

Btw I will be posting something far more unhinged than I normally would ever post for turnsgiving today. Just. Btw.

[superfluouskeys]

Ship meme: Amon? Or Estinien?

(sorry my phone is just NOT loading your OC information for some reason so these are total shots in the dark based on your url)

OMG you are fine friend! I don't really post that much about my ffxiv OC on here so who even KNOWS if she gets tagged consistently--thank you for indulging me regardless!!

Adrienne/Amon

Hmmmmmm I had to think long and hard abt this LOL, because the way EW is structured we really don't get to understand what tf is going on with Amon until after it has already gone on, you feel me?

Adrienne is the type of person who is very understanding of people UNLESS she doesn't get where they're coming from, in which case she can be quite judgmental. So I think because she doesn't understand Amon at all she would just be like ????? lol. I think she'd be much more likely to connect with Hermes and understand his struggle even if she doesn't entirely agree, and would have a harder time with what Amon becomes especially without the previous context of why he is Like That, so it would be hard for them to form any kind of connection.

Adrienne/Estinien

Similar to above, Adrienne had a hard time understanding Estinien at first (and she was a lot less open-minded earlier in her personal arc) and so she strongly disliked him until post-Heavensward, when she suddenly felt she had judged him much too harshly. I think because they are similarly self-isolating and tend to be more of the "distancers" in relationships, they probably wouldn't work long-term, but I could see them maybe having a brief fling and it working out amicably LOL.

send me a ship with one of my ocs :)

[ocaledonia]

lately i've been doing a lot of thinking about why women are the main supporters of transgenderism, and i think i've boiled it down to three main elements

1. women are socialised to be more accommodating and accepting of uncomfortable situations than men are. this has been discussed at length in the radical feminist tradition and the gender critical movement, but it bears reiterating. women are taught from early childhood to disbelieve their feelings of fear, anger and humiliation for the benefit of men.

2. i'd argue that the description of physical dysphoria is one that almost all women empathise with, because of how alienated women are from their bodies by society, in a way most men are not. even women who would say they are comfortable with their bodies have complicated feelings about having a female body in our society, even if they don't have the framework to express it. therefore, when women are confronted with men who make claims about sex dysphoria, they relate and empathise and some can draw conclusions that this distress aligns them with femaleness (i would argue that all women experience sex dysphoria in a misogynist society like ours but i digress). i think there many women also find solace in the idea that someone else could possibly have their physical distress alleviated and want to believe it is possible to find a solution to it.

In other words, “The body has been made so problematic for women that it has often seemed easier to shrug it off and travel as a disembodied spirit.” - Adrienne Rich

3. women want to believe that male oppression and men aren't really that bad. to comprehend the scale of women's oppression, and to fully understand that the men you know and love are as complicit in it as any other, feels like balancing on the brink of madness. women are desperate for evidence that things aren't as bad as they suspect.

Andrea Dworkin says it best: ��Many women, I think, resist feminism because it is an agony to be fully conscious of the brutal misogyny which permeates culture, society, and all personal relationships.”

that is part of the allure of the trans movement for these women in denial. breaking down the categories of male and female, and denying the social dynamics therein, means they don't have to grapple with the ugliness of misogyny.

anyone else have thoughts on this? i'd be keen to hear if others on radblr think

[samandcheesewinchesterr]

just remembered that at some point last night when i was very drunk i ended up crying literal tears over john leguizamo

[reasonsforhope]

Article Link

"Minnetonka first started selling its “Thunderbird” moccasins in 1965. Now, for the first time, they’ve been redesigned by a Native American designer.

It’s one step in the company’s larger work to deal with its history of cultural appropriation. The Minneapolis-based company launched in the 1940s as a small business making souvenirs for roadside gift shops in the region—including Native American-inspired moccasins, though the business wasn’t started or run by Native Americans. The moccasins soon became its biggest seller.

[Photo: Minnetonka]

Adrienne Benjamin, an Anishanaabe artist and community activist who became the company’s “reconciliation advisor,” was initially reluctant when a tribal elder approached her about meeting with the company. Other activists had dismissed the idea that the company would do the work to truly transform. But Benjamin agreed to the meeting, and the conversation convinced her to move forward.

“I sensed a genuine commitment to positive change,” she says. “They had really done their homework as far as understanding and acknowledging the wrong and the appropriation. I think they knew for a long time that things needed to get better, and they just weren’t sure what a first step was.”

Pictured: Lucie Skjefte and son Animikii [Photo: Minnetonka]

In 2020, Minnetonka publicly apologized “for having benefited from selling Native-inspired designs without directly honoring Native culture or communities.” It also said that it was actively recruiting Native Americans to work at the company, reexamining its branding, looking for Native-owned businesses to partner with, continuing to support Native American nonprofits, and that it planned to collaborate with Native American artists and designers.

Benjamin partnered with the company on the first collaboration, a collection of hand-beaded hats, and then recruited the Minneapolis-based designer Lucie Skjefte, a citizen of the Red Lake Nation, who designed the beadwork for another moccasin style and a pair of slippers for the brand. Skjefte says that she felt comfortable working with the company knowing that it had already done work with Benjamin on reconciliation. And she wasn’t a stranger to the brand. “Our grandmothers and our mothers would always look for moccasins in a clutch kind of situation where they didn’t have a pair ready and available to make on their own—then they would buy Minnetonka mocs and walk into a traditional pow wow and wear them,” she says. Her mother, she says, who passed away in 2019, would have been “immensely proud” that Skjefte’s design work was part of the moccasins—and on the new version of the Thunderbird moccasin, one of the company’s top-selling styles.

[Photo: Minnetonka]

“I started thinking about all of those stories, and what resonated with me visually,” Skjefte says. The redesign, she says, is much more detailed and authentic than the previous version. “Through the redesign and beading process, we are actively reclaiming and reconnecting our Animikii or Thunderbird motif with its Indigenous roots,” she says. Skjefte will earn royalties for the design, and Minnetonka will also separately donate a portion of the sale of each shoe to Mni Sota Fund, a nonprofit that helps Native Americans in Minnesota get training and capital for home ownership and entrepreneurship.

Some companies go a step farther—Manitobah Mukluks, based in Canada, has an Indigenous founder and more than half Indigenous staff. (While Minnetonka is actively recruiting more Native American workers, the company says that employees self-report race and it can’t share any data about its current number of Indigenous employees.) Beyond its own line of products, Manitobah also has an online Indigenous Market that features artists who earn 100% of the profit for their work.

White Bear Moccasins, a Native-owned-and-made brand in Montana, makes moccasins from bison hide. Each custom pair can take six to eight hours to make; the shoes cost hundreds of dollars, though they can also be repaired and last as long as a lifetime, says owner Shauna White Bear. In interviews, White Bear has said that she wants “to take our craft back,” from companies like Minnetonka. But she also told Fast Company that she doesn’t think that Minnetonka, as a family-owned business, should have to lose its livelihood now and stop making moccasins.

The situation is arguably different for other fashion brands that might use a Native American symbol—or rip off a Native American design completely—on a single product that could easily be taken off the market. Benjamin says that she has also worked with other companies that have discontinued products.

She sees five steps in the process of reconciliation. First, the person or company who did wrong has to acknowledge the wrong. Then they need to publicly apologize, begin to change behavior, start to rebuild trust, and then, eventually, the wronged party might take the step of forgiveness. Right now, she says, Minnetonka is in the third phase of behavior change. The brand plans to continue to collaborate with Native American designers.

The company can be an example to others on how to listen and build true relationships, Benjamin says. “I think that’s the only way that these relationships are going to get any better—people have to sit down and talk about it,” she says. “People have to be real. People have to apologize. They have to want to reconcile with people.”

The leadership at Minnetonka can also be allies in pushing other companies to do better. “My voice is important at the table as an Indigenous woman,” Benjamin says. “Lucie’s voice is important. But at tables where there’s a majority of people that aren’t Indigenous, sometimes those allies’ voices are more powerful in those spaces, because that means that they’ve signed on to what we’re saying. The power has signed on to moving forward and we agree with ‘Yes, this was wrong.’ That’s the stuff that’s going to change [things] right there.”"

-via FastCompany, February 7, 2024

[felikatze]

QoL as Kindness: ISAT's diagetic tutorials

This is the hopefully first of a series of posts I'll be doing reinterpreting ISAT's Loop through the lens of START AGAIN: a prologue's context. As such....

Major spoilers for both ISAT (all acts, including optional content) and SASASAP (all endings).

One of the biggest differences between ISAT and SASASAP is it’s QoL – it’s Quality of Life. QoL refers to all the little things that make a game just that little bit more playable; quick to navigate menus, quicksaving… tutorials.

It’s not really a surprise that SASASAP is as RPGmaker as RPGmaker gets. This isn’t a criticism, just an observation, and also a compliment to how much Adrienne’s skills with the engine improved between releases. Still, there’s some things that ISAT has over SASASAP.

ISAT’s QoL is absolutely essential to making it bearable. Anyone ever watch an ISAT playthrough where the player sighed in relief as the tutorial on picking where you loop came up?

SASASAP lacks a lot of ISAT’s QoL because it’s an earlier project without a studio backing it, but what impresses me is how this change ties into narrative.

Because the greatest chunk of ISAT’s greatest QoL is provided by Loop.

Even before you ever meet them, they’re already over your shoulder. Loop is the tutorial, speaking to you inside your brain. It’s genius, in that no player is ever going to question this. Hell, SASASAP’s movement tutorial is the exact same thing with less flavoring

This reframes what the QoL is – it’s not just a convenience to the player, it’s a convenience to Siffrin, too. It’s diegetic. It’s not something the game is giving you, it’s something Loop is giving you. Let’s look at what Loop gives you, and more importantly, why.

Zone Out

The first of the QoL features I want to talk about is the Zone Out function, the absolute bread and butter of not making this game a total slog.

The Zone Out feature as is did not exist in SASASAP (because Adrienne didn’t know how to do it yet) – instead, some doubled scenes let you just skip them entirely outright. There’s only two extremes: listen to all of it again, or none of it.

ISAT’s zone out system is much more dynamic, since it fast forwards dialogue line by line, letting you zone in whenever you’d like, and forcing you to zone in whenever a) something notably new happens, or b) whenever Siffrin speaks.

The way this feature is introced by Loop is kind of genius. Because Loop’s tutorial is about one thing – it’s okay to skip.

“You might miss what your party is saying, but who cares, right? If you make them mad, you can always loop back and they'll have forgotten all about it!”

It’s a cruel joke, or at least it seems that way on the surface. It’s also genuine advice. And a cruel joke at the same time. For Siffrin, freshly starting the loops, this is scandalous, but for Loop, who’s long since desensitized, it’s the same old same old.

What Loop’s doing here, by joking about Siffrin not listening to the party, is alliviate Siffrin’s guilt when they inevitably take Loop up on the offer. Because, even though Loop loves their party members…

From SASASAP, when sitting outside the bathroom:

(Will you get farther this time?) (Will you live this time?) (Or are you stuck listening to the same lines forever?) (…) (Stars, you’re so tired.)

Loop knows intimately well that Siffrin is going to drive themself insane trying to be a people pleaser every single loop, so this joke is telling the outright – don’t bother.

At first, Siffrin (and the player) still might. I really enjoyed reading the same conversations five times minimum because they’re fun and I’m deranged, but at some point I did start skipping them. And it was a relief to know there wouldn’t be anything new.

Siffrin: “Should I check everything again?” Loop: “You mean, should you check the same barrels, the same closets, the same objects on tables every loop?” Loop: “I mean, you can, but… You know things won’t change, right?” Loop: “If you really want to get a certain item again, or listen to your friends repeat something funny, you should!” Loop: “I personally would only check two or three things every loop, and ignore the rest.” Loop: “It will just make you crazy to expect something to change, when nothing will.” Loop: “All that might change is your reaction to it!”

The game is telling you, Loop is telling Siffrin, don’t drive yourself insane playing, please. The characters aren’t going to remember if you skipped something.

In the course of my script wizard activities, I’ve gotten an in-depth view of just how much that actually holds up. Pretty much all major differences are by Act, unrelated of how often you’ve done something. Minor variations apply for other things, but… those variations are minor.

And this also points out what all those variations are. Siffrin’s reactions!

Loop’s pre-empting Siffrin’s guilt, cuz they probably felt it themself. Hell, we do know they felt the pressure to perform and make sure nobody notices anything’s wrong, in SASASAP! Right up until the finale, Loop was driving themself up the wall.

(You have to act, you can't crack, you have to fake it and play it exactly as you did the first time for the whole way through so your friends don't find out anything is wrong) (You don't want to know what would happen if they knew their quest was in vain) (If they knew their quest for justice and change always ends in stillness and death!)

Acting everything out perfectly is one of the ending paths for SASASAP, which results in… complete and utter failure. Obviously.

(You acted perfectly normally, didn't you?) (Nothing out of place, nothing weird, every line the same as it might've been the first time?) (Ah…That was your mistake, wasn't it…?) (Because… Didn't your very first time… end exactly like this?) (The King throws the Housemaiden's body onto the floor again.)

Zoning out for too many conversations actually awards weird points in SASASAP, locking you out of the Perfect Ending. On the other hand, acting “perfectly” in ISAT… has no awards whatsoever. No special scene or or optional event or anything at all. You get nothing for paying attention!!!

So spare yourself the pain already, m’kay?

(On that note: I don’t think Loop not being sarcastic about it would’ve like… worked. At the start of ACT 2, Siffrin isn’t going to believe Loop when they say “Stop forcing yourself to relive the same thing over and over because you’ll start seeing your friends as disposable actors and lose touch with reality.” That all comes later, when Siffrin can look back on Loop’s words and see how right they were.)

Loop Back

The second biggest sigh of relief in any given ISAT playthrough is probably this specific tutorial.

Loop graciously shows you that you don’t need to loop back all the way to the beginning every single time. You can pick and choose where to go, even going forward by paying up with Memories of Skirmish.

This is a feature SASASAP does not possess, for the reason that it is much, much shorter, only covering about as much as one floor of ISAT’s three floor House.

But… since this is a character showing this to you, Loop showing this to you, we can ask… when did Loop learn this? After all, START AGAIN, Loop’s loops, do not have this feature.

“It'll save you time, so it's important, so listen up!”

This feature not existing in SASASAP means this is a thing that Loop did not know exists during their own time as Siffrin.

And that’s just the thing, isn’t it? SASASAP’s Siffrin does not know how to do this. They cannot pick and choose where they end up, as demonstrated wonderfully by SASASAP’s True Ending. There’s an even more wonderful implication, though –

On SASASAP’s Perfect End path, when exiting the final room before the King, Isabeau says this:

Isabeau: “…I'm glad you're feeling better, though!” Siffrin: (…?) “What do you mean…?” Isabeau: “Oh!!! Um, you were…” Isabeau: “Well! You were acting a little weird when we were way closer to the Castle's entrance……” Isabeau: “You weren't really listening to us, you were kinda smiling the way you do when you're actually not happy…” Isabeau: “…and you like, almost acted like you knew exactly where you were going?” Isabeau: “But clearly you're feeling better now! You're acting just like normal!!!”

SASASAP’s Siffrin knew how to do this, somehow managed to lock themself into the House’s last floor… and then forgot how to get back. By making this tutorial, Loop is ensuring that Siffrin never will.

“What can I do next?” – SASASAP’s greatest flaw

So, if you’ve had the pleasure of playing START AGAIN START AGAIN START AGAIN: a prologue yourself (as you should), then you’ve probably faced this scenario, or some variation of it:

I got to the end, I died to the King, but… what do I do next? The game tells me to go for the extremes, but how do I do that?

(edit: apparently some of yall just managed to speedrun sasasap in two loops. You're gonna need to stay with me here, please. Suspend your disbelief a bit, because a lot of people [including me] were dumbasses about it)

Maybe you try another loop, but just get the same ending again (or a differnet one, depending on a coinflip). You’re getting frustrated. Getting the Perfect Ending demands pinpoint precision to avoid everything weird, the True Ending demands good memorization of every single damn key in the game, and the order you do everything in. (Though, to be fair, the requirements on that one are actually more merciful than one might expect.)

Point is, in SASASAP, it’s incredibly easy to get stuck in that endless loop of “What the fuck do I do now?” It’s not uncommon to think you got it right only to get the same result anyways. What does one do in this situation?

They consult a guide, obviously.

START AGAIN’s ending requirements are frustrating. They are. When I tried to go for either the Perfect or the True Ending, I saved inside every single room, just so I could get right back to it when I inevitably fucked up five times minimum. This is both criticism… and praise. Because Loop is the major reason that ISAT does not suffer from this same problem.

Whenever you’re stuck in ISAT, Loop is just a single loop or call away at any times. And besides that, no plot requirement in ISAT demands nearly as many moving pieces all at once as SASASAP does – the “Sus Route” has been relegated to an optional ACT 4 exclusive event, instead of the game’s True Ending.

Instead of consulting an external guide on how to progress, you have one right there in the game, always ready with the next tip. They’re not infallible, mind you – enough time in Isatcord’s #game-help proves that, but Loop solved all of the moments I got stuck and frustrated in ISAT for me.

(Primarily that one time you need to figure out that a photo is similar to being stuck in time. That moment in particular is actually commendable, as you need to ask Loop about it twice before they tell you, leaving you a last shot to try and figure it out on your own.) Loop is a feature that nullifies SASASAP’s greatest flaw in its successor, and they choose to do so.

Memory of Keys

In my humble opinion, Loop does this because… they do not want Siffrin to suffer as they did. They want Siffrin to escape. And there is no greater example of their kindness than how Loop treats keys.

First of all, all keys in the game have a sparkling effect on them if you’ve picked them up at least once before, making it immediately clear where in the room they are. This means you don’t need to search every single room top to bottom for them, as you had to do for any keys and Star Crests in SASASAP. It’s some nice QoL that just means you don’t have to re-search the same area if you happened to forget which specific cupboard the key was in.

Key point being: SASASAP did not have this feature. In SASASAP, you did have to memorize where all the keys are, and doing so is expected if you want the True Ending.

Loop does not want Siffrin to have to do this. Because…

From SASASAP’s True End:

(The torch in the infirmary? That’s important!) (The key in the book? Soooo important.) (The names of your friends, that have been by your side throughout this entire adventure?) (Not worth remembering.)

Compared to ISAT’s ACT 2:

Siffrin: “How come I can see where the keys are?” Loop: “Whaaaaat? You caaaaaan? How can that beeeeeee?” Siffrin: “Is it thanks to you?” Loop: “Maybe.” Loop: “I figured you'd have other things to worry about than where a stupid key is.” Loop: “No need to thank me.”

To Loop, that they memorized the House’s layout over their friends’ names is a defining moment to their own failures. After all, in all likelihood, the True End of SASASAP is the last loop before they called it quits. It’s a traumatic experience from them, one that came from having to remember all the dumb fucking keys.

They do not want Siffrin to experience this. They do not want Siffrin to have to memorize the House, to push away what actually matters in favor of efficiency. So Loop is directly, personally, giving them a boon, so that Siffrin does not have to.

Conclusion

There’s probably more tutorial things I could talk about, but I feel like you’re seeing the pattern now, even if I don’t bring up saving level ups or keeping equipment or the “You’re stuck” signifier, least of all cuz they don’t have direct points of comparison with SASASAP like my other examples do (SASASAP has no changeable equipment, and saving levels doesn’t matter if you only have one floor, and you can’t softlock either.). So.

Loop’s tutorials all belie a fundamental kindness to their character. Everything that made their own experience trapped in the timeloop just that bit worse, they’re choosing to do away with it for Siffrin. They are choosing to make Siffrin’s time here easier.

Zoning out too much lead to them never paying attention to their friends, forgetting their names, so they make sure that Siffrin can still zone back in whenever something new happens.

Loop trapped themself for years on the final floor, locking themself out of progress that might lie further back, so they’re ensuring Siffrin knows exactly how to loop forwards and backwards so it doesn’t happen again.

Loop lets Siffrin keep equipment across loops to cut down on time spent doing the exact same thing over and over.

They are saving Siffrin time, and they are giving Siffrin comfort. At every single turn, Loop is saving Siffrin from the same pitfalls they fell into without anyone to guide them out.

It's honestly incredible to transform an increase in skill into an actual narrative element. Yes, SASASAP sucks more to play. But ISAT sucks less, because Loop wants it to. It's the perfect marriage of real world circumstance and storytelling. I could... probably pull another comparison here, saying it's like a game and its remake - overhauled graphics, expanded story, and loads and loads of QoL, because the makers of the remake realized something. They love the original, but parts of it do suck, and there's so much that can be done to make a new player's experience smoother. Metanarrative commentary,,,, woah,,,,,

Every single one of these QoL elements I’ve mentioned function as a crutch for a player’s failing memory, but also Siffrin’s (similar to what I talked about in my previous essay on ISAT’s ludonarrative - the player and Siffrin are always in sync, even in how tutorials benefit them). Loop doesn’t know the player exists though (only the Change God does), so they do everything for Siffrin.

To keep Siffrin from forgetting. To help Siffrin focus on what’s important. To make Siffrin’s journey just a little bit less miserable. Loop directly improves ISAT’s QoL. For you. For Siffrin.

From Loop’s introduction:

Loop: “See, I’m useful! I’m very useful! That’s why I’m here, helpful Loop.” Siffrin: “Why are you helping me?” Loop: “…” Loop: “Because I think you should be helped.” Loop: “I won’t always have the answers, but… I think having someone on your side to talk to is better than dealing with this alone.” Loop: “Right?”

From Loop’s hangout:

“But it’s fine.” “Whether you believe me or not, I’m here to help you.” “So you can escape this loop.”

And finally, from the start of ACT 3:

Siffrin: “Are you really here to help me?” Loop: “Stardust…” Loop: “…” Loop: “Yes.” Loop: “If you can believe anything, believe that.” Loop: “I asked to be here, so I could help you.”

And I do believe them. Loop’s feelings on Siffrin are… complex, to say the least. They love Siffrin, and they hate him in equal measure. They’re jealous, and spiteful, but underneath everything…

In SASASAP, if you die to a Sadness thrice, you get this monologue:

(Sometimes, when you loop back here…) (In the corner of your eye, you can sometimes see someone that looks just like you.) (Is it a you from another loop? Remnants of your past failures?) (Are you going crazy?) (May they succeed where you cannot.)

[codacheetah]

Tell me your opinions on the stuff. Any stuff.

Grins. Smiles, even

I'm using you as an excuse to infodump my theory about the Island because I've had no in to do that, and my theory is pure opinion. Anyways:

THE ISLAND IS STUCK IN THE FUCKING FUTURE

(SCARE CHORD)

Hi so you might ask me. What the fuck do you mean by that. Well. Let's start with what we know about the Island, the King, and Wish Craft. (long ass post under cut. sorry)

The Island was redacted from the perception of outside world, via Wish Craft.

Wish Craft has the power to enable Time Craft. We see this primarily through Siffrin's timeloops, but also through the King's powers.

One of the King's powers is to show the saviors a "vision of the future."

...And this same attack is deflected back at the King by Mirabelle in ACT 5, in which the King is able to see the Island before being frozen in time.

...So. The King's "vision of the future." We're never told explicitly what this vision is. All we know is that it's apparently powerful enough to wipe the party in one hit, hearing it from a distance hurts your head, and that whatever Siffrin (and Loop) saw, they don't seem to actually be able to describe it. Even the King himself doesn't know what his vision entails.

We don't know whether the party all sees the same thing when struck by the vision, and Adrienne's answer to the question about it in the Reddit AMA is. vague? It's not a "no," and the specific wording makes me think the answer might be yes. But that's me reading into it.

Now. What do we know about the Island's redaction? The Island was affected by the wish recently, as in "like a decade ago" recently. We know that nobody in Vaugarde or the rest of the world is capable of thinking about the Island, anything closely tied to the Island's culture, or people on the Island for very long. When they do recall these things, they slip right out of reach. Particularly, the consequence for trying to think about the Island (or, more specifically, break the wish that forces the Island out of perception) is significant pain, localized in the head.

And that said pain is enough to become lethal, if pressed hard enough.

From here forward I'm running with the assumption that the King's "vision of the future" is not personalized to any individual, and is unchanging throughout the course of the whole story. Now. Remember the end of ACT 5, where the King gets hit with the deflected "vision of the future", and instead of dying, he recalls the Island and gets frozen in time? Very odd, yeah? Why wouldn't the King just die like everyone else does? He even does take 9999 damage when trying to say its name, like Siffrin does, and like the party does when they're hit by the attack.

Well. We know that he has a "true wish" that the ability to freeze Vaugarde in time grants. I don't think it's at all a stretch to guess that the King's "true wish" is to be able to remember the Island. My personal guess is that the King (and Siffrin) brought this "true wish" into effect via the "SAY ITS NAME" sequence- he even tries three times, a significant number in wishing.

The King (and Siffrin's) wish breaks, because it can't be fulfilled in this moment without breaking the wish to prevent the Island from being thought about. However. Consider the conditions at the end of ACT 5- the King sees the vision of the future reflected back to him, and what he sees is the Island. He remembers the Island, fulfilling his own wish, and is frozen in time. I consider this a compromise between his wish and the one binding the Island- the King gets to remember the Island, but nobody alive is able to think about it, because he's frozen in time; it's like the Universe is correcting itself (I WILL GET BACK TO THIS). The wish of all of Vaugarde to defeat the King is fulfilled, since he is no longer a threat, and Siffrin's wish wraps itself up soon after.

MY POINT BEING. The King's attack is a vision of the future. This "future" is of the Island, in some uncorrupted state. The saviors see it when he attacks them, and he sees it when it is deflected back to him.

The logical next question is "okay, so the Island exists in the future, but how do you know time shenanigans are even related to the Island?"

Recall a very odd series of interactions throughout the game, in which you try to interact with a piece of equipment that you already own.

The game rewinds slightly, before the item disappears, as the Universe corrects itself.

This is awfully similar to two particular events: looping back without seeing the death screen, and talking to the Daydreaming One about her sister. The latter is more interesting to me for the purposes of this theory.

In both instances, something is misaligned within the Universe (an item existing in two places, someone remembering something they're not supposed to) and it is corrected through some sort of rewind. Also compare the dialogue above to when you try to give Mirabelle the Stylish Bow when you already own it.

The world glitches, but Siffrin defuses the situation before the Universe has to intervene. Omitted from the screenshot is the fact that Mirabelle's portraits switch to happy from "catastrophically anxious" with no transition after Siffrin shows her where the bow is. Important to note is that when Mirabelle tries to recall receiving the bow, her head hurts, much like how trying to break the Island wish causes a headache.

The Universe leads you away from perception, and you can only follow.

My theory that I keep circling around is that through Wish Craft, the Island has been displaced temporally. The denizens of the Island, as well as the Island itself, still exist, but they are in the future. The Island is still loaded into the world, like how equipment is before you try to interact with it, and the Island cannot leave this quantum state, because it never actually went anywhere. The magnitude of the redaction event is so severe with the Island, because it is so much larger as an entity than a sword or a bow. There are of course things I don't really have pieced together, like why somebody would wish the Island into the future, how far into the future it is, or why equipment behaves this way. But it's the only Island theory I've seen that I have some level of confidence in, so I might as well lay out my cards for it.

[salpho]

(Reblog 1/2 this is the first time I've reached 30 tags PFFH)

Something I noticed is a lot of people who hated BATIM love BATDR and a lot of people fond of BATIM dislike BATDR. To me, this seems like a mechanics vs story issue. The actual game mechanics and aesthetic of BATDR disguise the lackluster characters and plot holes. However, BATIM still suffers those same issues.

This is a vague question, but what are your thoughts on BATIM vs BATDR story wise? Is either of them truly better? Or are they just flawed in different ways?

Sorry, this is long, but so are BATIM and BATDR :')

I think you hit the nail on the head in the sense that yes- BATDR has better gameplay and mechanics than BATIM, but BATIM by far has a much more compelling story that was able to capture and keep attention over the course of five chapter releases. And yes, BATIM is not without its flaws, for example it's mainly a walking simulator in terms of actual gameplay- the only thing saving it being the unique ability to suck the player in through the rich, stylistic environments.

In terms of story, here's my take for both of them-

BATIM is more solid overall, there are more connected plot points and there's a thread there to be followed from start to finish. It does suffer from some WTF plothole moments, the biggest one being Alice's 180 degree turn with suddenly using Boris as a killing machine rather than...what I can only assume was a plan to use his ink/body as some kind of reparative agent for the hole in her face (like thicc ink premium idk), or...some kind of spell...? It's honestly not very clear HOW she was going to use him, but bottom line she decided to entirely change her plan off-screen, which could have been remedied with something like a cutscene's worth of explanation, and more of a buildup to Brute Boris. The "reveal" in the haunted house didn't hold that much weight (at least to me,) just because we didn't even get a cookie crumb of a hint that Alice was going to mutilate him and use him as a drone instead of just axe him.

There are other nonsense details like Allison's ominous "I'm no Angel" line, which didn't make sense when Tom was the one to want to leave Henry. It was never explained WHY the Ink Demon walks around with a limp when he can shapeshift into a bigger and faster Beast version of himself (and apparently he was ALSO the hand in the ink river??? I guess???) And can we talk about how the cult Joey started was just never brought up again? Wally talks about how workers were encouraged (or mandated, idk) to put offerings in the break room to "appease the gods." What gods? Was Joey worshiping Bendy like a god? NONE OF THIS IS EXPLAINED EVER and honestly I think Micheal D. and Meatstick just Forgot that Joey was a cult leader in favor of Sammy's cult storyline.

But despite all of the plot holes, we still get a tale of a deteriorating studio, humans being used as literal skeletons for lifelike versions of cartoon characters, themes of life, death, cults, art, and more. Honestly, going deep into the plot of Bendy would take its own post to really do it justice.

I guess the main plot is this: Ex-co-founder of Joey Drew Studios, Henry, is trying to get the fuck home to his wife, learning along the way that through the power of a mysterious ink machine, his ex-business partner decided to coerce and persuade people to Literally Die so he could have the necessary materials to create living versions of his cartoons, thus making "his" characters (and more importantly, Bendy,) a reality. Once Henry does escape, he learns that Joey has sent him through this same hell before, still filled with hatred and spite, just in time for Joey to assumedly "reset" him and send him on a different version of the same journey, as we can guess from the storyboards on display in Joey's apartment. THAT on its own is an intriguing and layered tale, and that's not even including the other details, voices, and faces we run into in BATIM, AND the new info we learn in BATDR.

Now, BATDR...is something I've come to view as a mixed bag.

Story-wise, it weirdly wants to have its cake and eat it to. Henry's story is elaborated on, and part of Audrey's origins are also brought to light. This is helpful information concerning the plot of BATIM...but then we get assblasted with a ton of new characters and lore for a completely new Cycle under the reign of a completely new Random Old Man. I know he's Nathan's son, and he was mentioned in both Illusion and Fade to Black...but those were de-canonized, so it almost doesn't help context-wise...???? So...????

In a lot of ways, BATDR almost acts like it wants to be an AU branching from BATIM rather than a direct sequel, which it was marketed/confirmed as.

I think my biggest problem with BATDR is that some of the main characters are bafflingly like. Mishandled.

I'm gonna have the mildest take on earth and say I didn't like the new Ink Demon. Old design was better and more uncanny by far, the new design looks like Generic Satan or something straight out of Baldur's Gate. He was given a deep, guttural growling voice because....tumblr sexyman I guess. Even if they needed him to talk, it could've been something more breathy and raspy, true to the heavy breathing of the original Ink Demon. Also, his alternate form was made very childlike, and I'm just weirded out by the fact that you have this oddly "sexified" version of the Ink Demon on the flipside of Bendy the Child. I don't think any ill intent was meant by this, but it's more confusing than anything thematically. I'm also not sure why Bendy's abuse was brought up and then never touched on....? Like wasn't this guy locked up and called a monster his whole life? Are we going to...say something especially considering the moral of this story......?

Memory Joey is completely fine, but I just can't shake the feeling that the narrative is trying to paint IRL Joey as "UWU fixed now" when that's not the case. The most sympathy I can extend to IRL Joey is that he was a gay man who desired to have a family at a time when that was not only frowned upon but dangerous, not just socially speaking but in terms of his physical safety. But beyond that, this was a dude who locked people in a building to keep them working, coerced and possibly forced the deaths of many people to get what he wanted (the ink machine was a scientific advancement that could've had AMAZING implications for society but he Did Not Give a Shit about that), and was abusive towards Henry. If we trust the Bendy books, he also gaslit and killed his teenage staff. This motherfucker isn't a patron saint of anything, and even if Memory Joey can learn from IRL Joey's mistakes, IRL Joey was still a shitbag who just happened to raise a daughter.

Which leads me to Audrey. Some of Audrey's tale is explained- she was raised by Joey, forgot Joey was her father, and came to work at Archgate as an animator. Got to know Wilson, who works as a janitor at Archgate, and then he drags her into ink hell because....idk, she's his version of "A Perfect Boris" I guess. Fair enough. However, it's NEVER EXPLAINED how Audrey doesn't remember her father, or WHERE she went to live after his passing, or WHO she lived with. Remember, Joey was as old as a cave painting, so he clearly passed when she was very young. While you could argue she doesn't remember his name because she was little, SURELY she remembers his face or voice, or the fact that she HAD A FATHER??? Like, was there some huge trauma there? (Other than the fact that Joey was her dad?) It makes little sense to me that she would forget so easily. If I had to make a guess (and granted I'm no Mark Twain), I'd wager that Allison probably found Joey dead. Remember that Nathan hadn't talked to Joey in years, and Allison was the one who went out of her way in the first place to visit. At this point, Allison's gonna find a little girl running around by herself, and assumedly her and Thomas would've taken her in. If that's not the case, someone else found Joey dead, at which point Audrey would've possibly lived with Nathan and Tessa, considering how much Nathan cared about Joey. Either party has ties to Archgate. But all of that is just speculation, not confirmed, and even if any of that were true, Audrey makes no mention of it. And I'm sorry, Audrey's backstory makes me want to cry, because it's just NOT THERE and she has the personality of a depressed bucket.

Alice was alright...but she was kind of stupid? Which is like....the antithesis of everything cool about her? Instead of using traps and luring the main character from a distance, she knocks out Audrey (via unspecified drink), plays Diet Jigsaw with Audrey, and then gets pushed off a balcony. She was also a lot more...idk, suave and sultry in speech mannerisms in BATDR, which isn't bad, but her unhinged and clever nature seemed a bit watered down.

I don't really have notes on the rest of the main cast. Sammy was brought back to die immediately, which honestly was fine considering his death track record. We get some mentions of BATIM characters. Wilson and Betty were fine, and even some of the lore explaining how the timelines work made sense.

HOWEVER,

I've already said it a hundred times, but the old cast was shoved to the side for a bunch of new characters we had no time to connect with. A new butcher gang member was added when we still have Miss Twisted as a potential female-role filler (keep in mind the Projectionist is based on Camera Man and Brute Boris was based on The Brute.) The whole "Amok" thing was a REALLY roundabout way to get the Lost Ones to stop attacking Audrey.

Wilson's motivations are mostly consistent and I'd argue somewhat compelling, but I don't understand why he didn't do more to protect Audrey if he was going to need her for the endgame for Shipahoy Dudley? Like what's all this about letting her run around and get killed? Was he just aware that she'd revive?

The main message of BATDR was fine, but it didn't work super well for Audrey's character. She'd already forgotten Joey was her father, and was living in blissful ignorance of that fact until Memory Joey decided to infodump on her right away. Sure, the "just because you were born of darkness doesn't mean you have to be darkness" thing applies to her AFTER she learns Joey was her father, but...Audrey was never threatening to Become Evil, so it almost didn't need to be said and was kind of a flat message...? I would argue Memory Joey would benefit more from that message- as he's a literal copy of a Very Bad Dude. My guy was projecting this whole time.

I do think BATDR was worse story-wise, but I'm not going to sit here and pretend it didn't have certain disadvantages from the start. The Kindlybeast debacle happened, BADTR was trying to continue a story from an existing property, and there was a severe lack of Adrienne Kress. Okay, maybe the last one was a bit much, but still. That doesn't mean I hate BATDR overall, I can appreciate a lot of things about it, but strictly in the story department, it needs soooooo much work and makes me want to jump off a Minecraft cliff.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you're desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

Adrenaline buzzes in your ears and sears through your veins. You shouldn’t be here. Yet this place is no more treacherous than your home. Thing’s can’t get much worse so you may as well try to make them better. 

Or maybe you’re so desperate for it to end, that you don’t care how. 

You stand before the two men in their dark suits. They mutter as if you can’t hear them, “Warren’s girl.” 

“One of them,” the other intones. 

“Boss said not to bother.” 

You sway, your hands twined up behind your back. You expect to be turned away but you’re not ready for it. You chew the tip of your tongue. 

“I can wait,” you say. 

The don’t acknowledge you. They turn to block you out with their shoulders and lower their voices. One glances over his shoulder at you, Walker? Or something. 

“Your daddy send you?” He asks. 

You shake your head. You should probably lie but you’re no good at that. The throbbing in your swollen lip assures you of that. 

“So why should we let you in to see the boss? You out here at midnight looking like a tramp,” he challenges as he faces you again. 

“Hey, she looks like she’s had it bad enough. Don’t be a dick,” the other man reproaches. “Look, sweetheart,” he steps forward. “Man’s busy. With important business. Whatever you’re looking for, ask your daddy.” 

You could sob. Your father has no idea you’re there. If he did... if he knew why... 

Your shoulders slump and you hang your head in defeat. Why did you think this would work? It’s a fantasy. That same escapist wish you make every night when you cry yourself to sleep. 

You close your eyes and see Adrienne’s teary-eyes and Kitty’s helpless expression. You can’t let your sisters down. You can’t stand to see them suffer any longer. You can take it all, but it’s seeing him raise his hand to them that guts you. 

“I need to see him,” you raise your head. “I can wait.” 

You say you can but if your father realises you’re gone, if he finds out where you’ve gone, or even manages to guess why... 

Walker sighs. He elbows the other man. “Go tell him so can come back and tell her to scram on his orders.” 

The other man returns a dark look but goes inside. You hug yourself and shiver in the night air. You have only your quarter-zip sweater and a pair of silky pajama pants. You’re not surprised the men can barely keep from laughing at you. 

You wait. It takes longer than you expect. If anything, you would think they would only pretend to tell the boss. That’s what they all do. They lie. They ignore you. They just don’t care. So why are you here? Why would this go any other way? 

Before you can wave the white flag, the door opens. 

“In,” the man holds the door as he steps out.  

You flinch and Walker sneers at his partner in confusion. You’re just as surprised. The other man huffs. 

“Well, he said you got five minutes, so get.” 

You waver on your feet then scurry forward. You step inside the dark brick building, another man waiting just inside. He’s silent as he points you down the hall. He directs you with the terse gestures; upstairs, to the left, around another corner.  

You stop before a door with another duo standing vigil by the door posts. The left one knocks, tilts his head to listen, the opens it. You’re pointed inside.  

Your nerves flurry and wrap you up in a billowing storm. What are you doing? That question doesn’t matter. It’s too late. 

You drag your feet inside. The door slams at your back. The room is dim, lit only by a lamp with a glass shade on the large desk across from you. Behind that, sit a man. The man. Bucky Barnes. The boss. The king. 

He sits with his elbow bent over the armrest of his chair. He watches you calmly. You stand in silence by the door. He beckons you closer with two fingers. 

“Can’t see you back there, doll.” He says. 

You hold your breath and come forward. You gulp as you stop within a foot of the carved desk. Your eyes scour the vintage print of the wallpaper and the wooden paneling. This place is steeped in history. 

He raises his hand, cradling his face as he brings to fingers to his lips. He watches you patiently. Waiting. You stare back at him. You’ve never seen him this close. You don’t even know if your father has. 

“Why are you here?” He asks at last. 

Your eyes narrow on the gold sheen on his pinky. It’s the only safe place to look. You feel like you’ll melt in the blaze of his oceanic irises. You exhale. 

“I need someone dead.” 

He doesn’t answer. Your words dangle in the air as he mulls them. You purse your lips and wince at the pain in the split along the swollen flesh. 

“A man. The one who did that to you?” He sits up straight and points at you. You follow the glint of his ring. You nod. “Low life. Let me guess, daddy doesn’t know you been sneaking around.” 

You shake your head, “he doesn’t know I’m here. Or that I’m asking.” You take another breath as your eyes water. You bring your hand up to your cheek as it pulses. Your father’s knuckles left a nasty welt. “Because it’s him. He’s the one who did this. And I want him dead.” 

He scoffs, more amused than disbelieving. 

“Warren’s a soldier of mine. You're asking me to off him?” 

“I’m begging,” you finally make yourself look him in the eye. His is formidable man. Dark hair, dark beard, a touch of grey here and there. Even at this hour, he wears a nice suit and sits with authority. “Please, my sisters--” 

“And how are you and your sisters going to make up for his cut. He brings in money. What can you give me?” 

“You can take everything. We just want to be free,” you say. 

He clucks, “what he has now is nothing compared to a lifetime of what he can get.” 

You lower your lashes. That’s it. At least he didn’t laugh because you almost did when you said it out loud. Your father isn’t going to die. He’s so rancid, even death doesn’t want him. He’s not human, he’s a curse. And this man you’re asking for mercy, he’s the same kind. 

“Sorry for the bother,” you eke out. “I was mistaken.” 

“So you were,” he agrees. “Go home. Put some ice on it.” 

It’s like another punch in the face. You nod, “thank you, sir.” 

“You can go,” he dismisses. 

“Yes, sir.” You put your head down and drag your foot back. 

“Ah,” he tuts. 

Your eyes flick up. He extends his hand across the desk. Right. He is still who he is. You step closer as he holds his hand steady. You bow down and kiss the sigil on his ring. An outdated and demeaning gesture. 

Before you can stand straight, his large hand frames your chin. He pushes your head up as your eyes round. You stare at him as his gaze drifts down to your neck. The bruises by the zipper of your sweater tingle. 

“You were never here,” he lets you go. 

“Understood,” you retreat, “sorry again for wasting your time.” 

[dwindlinghaze]

helloo can i request a fic for introvert!reader with extrovert!remus lupin whos head over heels for her <3

yes u can darlin <3 🫧🫧 i sort of wrote this into a whole new story but i hope you like this one ☁️🌸🩷🤍

everytime

(remus lupin x reader)

contents : fem reader, toxic friendships, kissing, fluff !! not proofread

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

the door slammed open, revealing three young witches with their hands full of shopping bags. you knew they were going to hogsmeade together, but a part of you wished they had invited you.

they're your roomates and friends.

you couldn't go as far as calling them your true friends because they don't involve you much in their group activities.

they go on picnics together, shopping for pretty dresses in hogsmeade, having brunch dates, going to the movies.

a part of you wished you're there, being together with them and just fitting in. but the other part of you were thankful as for they're not inviting you because you would feel left out anyways.

it was better to be left out, and only you know it, rather than being left out with other people knowing.

maybe it wasn't their fault. elina is pretty, smart, bright and outgoing. adrienne is cheerful, energetic, and sociable. cassie is ambitious, intelligent, and talkative. you laughed bitterly to yourself, realising that they all have similar traits- all really easy to talk to and would always have an on going conversation.

you couldn't even hold a conversation for more than four minutes. it feels like your fault now.

you sit alone the morning after. you usually sit with your 'friends' for breakfast, but you were hurt from yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. it was tiring, you needed break.

which caught the attention of a young gryffindor boy, sitting at the opposite end of the table.

remus lupin always thought you're the most beautiful person he ever saw. you two never talked, there's no reason to.

only his longing stares are the closest thing to interaction.

he thought you're beautiful. not the kind of beauty in magazines or billboards, but the kind of beauty that spreads through a field of mystical flowers. a kind that shines golden in daylight and a night fairy at late.

he saw the way you chew on your breakfast gloomily. he wondered why. you weren't spotted with your usual friends. you were just there. alone.

you would think of yourself as pathetic, but remus doesn't. he would never. he saw an angel-like soul that nobody's good enough to know. nobody's smart enough to notice.

he frowned when he saw you wiping away a tear before you got up, exiting the packed hall.

"frowning moony is not a safe moony," james said, quirking his eyebrows up.

"it's y/n, isn't it?" sirius questioned. the handsome man noticed how remus has been distracted from reality lately. he noticed how remus basically looks at you with heart eyes everytime.

"she looks sad today," remus noted, feeling an overwhelming sense of worry flooding him. it was funny to think about actually, you two never spoke a word to each other yet remus is worrying as if you're his.

"talk to her," james urged. "it's been- what was it? years of pining, you should make a move first because we all know she won't."

"i can't- y'know, my condition," remus huffed.

"she won't mind."

"how'd you know?"

"because- she is her...?" sirius said. "give it a try moony, if she doesn't love you with your condition then she doesn't deserve you, but if she does, it's worth it."

"right..."

that evening you sat down staring at an open window, catching your breath. you had been crying. you don't know why you're being so sensitive lately especially since your friends are always like this. why are you taking it so personal now?

you let the wind hit your face, drying your tears up with the cold breeze.

remus was on his nightly patrol around the castle. he's a prefect. that's how he heard a sniffle down the hall, his vision met with the most enchanting sight.

he walked slowly towards you, not wanting to scare. "hey... you alright?"

you turned around abruptly, wiping away the tears on your eyelashes. "i'm sorry for being out late."

"i'm not going to report you to professor mcgonagal, are you alright?" he asked once more.

"yeah, i'll be heading back to my dorm now," you collected yourself. the quiet footsteps didn't go unheard by you. remus was following you to the dorms.

"don't want filch to get you, i'll walk you there," he smiled a generous smile.

then silence fell between the two of you, only for remus to break it. "i know we're not friends but you can talk to me about it if you want, you can trust me," remus took hold of your upper arm, caressing it gently.

"thanks," was the only reply. you cringed at how short it sounded and he probably thinks you're rude and cold which is the opposite of who you are. your words aren't the best representation of yourself.

remus knew you were an introvert, hiding away from crowded rooms whenever you can. you never go to the parties his friends held. he knew you prefer reading to revelling.

he understands, he was once just like you. but with the help and support of his friends, he feels more comfortable in expressing himself now.

"will i see you tomorrow?" remus asked once you were inside the gryffindor common room.

"yeah, thank you- for not turning me in," you sent him an awkward smile.

the next day, you weren't in a better state either. you found out that cassie was talking horrible things about you with some slytherins. you weren't surprised. it was just your nature to constantly be disrespected by them.

remus saw you again that very day. your eyes were watery and your fingers were shaking.

he quickly ran up to you, his heart breaking into a million pieces. how dare someone did this to you?

"honey, you okay?" remus said, looking at you with the fondest eyes.

you almost cried again, hearing how someone actually asked you if you were okay. you shook your head in response.

"talk to me, we're friends," remus said softly. in reality, you two aren't technically friends. you only met face to face twice.

"we're friends?" you asked, feeling unsure.

"we are. from now on. now tell me who did this to you?"

"oh remus i can't," you shook your head.

"okay... but you can talk to me about anything okay? it doesn't have to be important. that's what friends are for," he smiled.

and oh when you smiled back, was like heaven to him. you looked like an ethereal angel with that divine smile and that archangelic face. he might as well fall in love right then and there.

the sparkles in your eyes that hold such loneliness and hope is what he calls beauty. the way you smiles even when you're sad just to assure him that you will be okay is heart warming. to him you weren't just beautiful for something as temporary as your face. you're beauty hides beneath that broken heart of yours, that delicate soul you have.

you opened up after a while, you feel you can trust remus. he is a calm and caring person. the way he asks 'how are you' every morning since. he wrapped his arm around your shoulder because he doesn't want to lose you in the sea of students. he cuts your breakfast so you can eat them easier. he reads to you softly when you cried again because of your friends.

he didn't know how much this has helped you to be okay again. how much you adored him for everything he does, even the questionable ones. you didn't care.

"rem, want to talk to you," you spoke, breaking his gaze from his book.

"i'm all ears, darling," he replied.

"you wanna know why i keep on crying?," you sniffed, ready to open up for the first time. "it's because- cause cassie, elina, and adrienne. they keep saying bad things about me- that you probably heard already. i used to always think we're friends, maybe not the kind like- you and me. but just friends... i guess. they keep leaving me out. it's like they don't even want me there." you were wiping tears away now, feeling unsure of yourself.

you never spoke of your feelings like this. never to anyone. how can remus made it so easy for you to be transparent to him?

"oh angel, they don't deserve you. they're too full of themselves to see how worthy you are. i think- i think you're the perfect just how you are. forget about them yeah? we will start a new beginning. you can come and sit with me from now on. no need to care about them. i will never make you sad, promise."

he pulled you to his chest, embracing you in a warm hug.

he made a promise to himself that every week, he will give you gifts and such to remind you how important you are. how much he loves and cares about you.

he couldn't let you waste your tears for your past friendship. remus treats you like a princess. he wants to make you smile. seeing you happy is what matters most because a dream girl should live in a dreamworld. and he made it a mission to make a perfect world for you.

he remembered you saying how those girls never invited you to picnics so here he is, inviting you to join the picnic he has set just for you and him.

"oh rem, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done!" you sighed, sitting yourself down on the carpet.

"it's nothing! you deserve it," he smiled proudly, pouring you and himself a cup of chamomile tea. your favourite.

there's something sparkling in your wrist. the shine of it glimmering under the perfect weather. you were wearing a bracelet remus gave to you a few days ago. a pretty silver chain with a moon and angel wings intertwined together.

when he first saw the jewelery on the display, it immediately reminded him of you so he just had to buy two of them. a matching bracelet.

god, nobody has ever even given you a friendship bracelet before.

he saw you, picking up the fresh strawberries with your delicate hands. 'what a dreamy girl' he thought 'and to have an angel like her to call my own'

he wanted to kiss you right there. everything was perfect at the moment. the soft honey rays of the sunshine warms the air surrounding the two of you, there's no reason for remus to scoot over closer to your figure. but he did anyways.

"i like a girl, no i actually love her," he started.

your heart sank, you thought maybe-just maybe remus is the one. he pulled you right out of misery in the best way.

remus saw your crestfallen expression, though he continued, "she makes my heart jump. she's the girl i've been in love with for a long time, i wanna go wherever she goes."

you forced a smile at him, munching on your strawberry that suddenly turned sour.

"she gets sad often, but that doesn't stop her from taking care of the people around her, and herself. she's smart and wise. she inspires me actually. everytime we say goodnight, i go to bed and sleep happily. dreaming of happy thoughts because when she's around, there's no negativity."

"i love her- y/n," he said, hinting at the way he emphasised your name.

"can i know who she is?" you asked shyly.

"can you guess?"

"i don't know..."

"well, i see her everytime," remus said, a smile playing on his lips.

"you see a lot of people everyday," you replied.

"i said everytime not everyday," he chuckled.

"that's not possible!"

"it is actually. i could never get tired of her. anyone is crazy if they do," he shook his head. "okay.. she smells like the most cosiest bakery in town."

"i don't think i know anyone that smells like a bakery."

"of course you don't, darling," remus said, cupping your cheeks. "'cause it's you. i'm in love with you,"

"wha- me?" you knitted your brows. he caressed them away.

"yes you, it's obvious actually. i thought you knew," remus chucked. "i don't have matching bracelets with anyone else, i never go on picnics, i never crochet someone a sweater before, i could go on but i want to hear what you have to say."

"i love you too, it's inevitable," you said, rubbing your cheeks further on his palms.

"can i kiss you?" he asked. he always considered himself a gentleman and he will be the most gentlemanly when it comes to you.

you responded with a soft nod, then he pressed his lips against yours. slowly but surely, he felt you melting in the kiss and god does that feel way more magical than the daydreams he had about this. his tongue manoeuvred its way inside your mouth, meeting yours in a soft touch that sent shivers down your spine. he loves the way you taste, licking the remnants of strawberry juice in your mouth.

he placed his hand on the back of your head while the other wrapped itself around waist, making you impossibly closer to him.

you didn't know how long that lasted but when you pulled away, the both of your cheeks were bright red and the smiles couldn't be wiped away.

[vauxxy]

“wanna listen to the sound of you blinking, wanna listen to your hands soothe, listen to your heart beating, listen to the way you move”

a/n: quick luke drabble based on an adrienne lenker song ^_^ i’m very excited for the last episode! (no i’m not my heart is hurting)

warnings: minor spoilers for PJO! angst, angst. angst, fluff.

luke castellan is a quiet lover.

he likes the small things- the sound of your heart beating when he rests his head against your chest.

the sound your hands make when you scratch his scalp ever so gently.

the shaky breaths you take in between giggles.

he sits in silence and he listens. because he’s already memorised your face and the feeling of your hands on his arms and the taste of your neck and the smell of your hair.

now, he needs to memorise your voice, and your sniffles, and the nasally laugh you release from your lips when you’re pretending his jokes are funny.

he needs to memorise all of it.

because sooner rather than later, if he wants to hear the way your tongue clicks against your teeth after you say something sarcastic, or the humming noises you make in the middle of the night, or the melodic whimpers you let out when you’re trying to guilt trip him- he’ll only have his imagination to rely on.

sooner rather than later, he’ll have to learn how to think up your body next to him when he sleeps at night.

sooner rather than later, he’ll have to conjure up a version of you, alive only within his mind, if he desires the comfort and tranquility that you once brought him.

because luke left as quietly as he loved. the luke you knew, anyways.

[laviaceae]

I had this vivid ISAT acrylic stand idea earlier this week and decided I had to draw it. Obviously this isn't/won't be an actual thing to respect Adrienne's merch guidelines but the thought seemed super cool to me, so... the confrontation against the King, forever immortalised in fake merch format!

The King & the BG, Siffrin, and the rest of the party are all on separate layers in my mind.

Design notes and alt versions below the cut, but there are Act 5 spoilers down there so beware!

You can have the original 2nd and 3rd layers for normal King fights, or solo Siffrin for the Act 5 King fight, or the party members plus the alternate 2nd layer for the party coming to back him up after Mal du Pays! Anything your silly little heart could picture for this like... imaginary concept art FBHDBHFBHDBHFB

Thanks for reading :)!

[ma1dita]

forever falling: luke castellan & his four great loves

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.3k

summary: (post-TLT) The one where he falls from grace and still thinks of you. (the four great loves of Luke Castellan’s life and how it will end up killing him) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: i held myself hostage in my car outside the gym until i got this right this morning — listened to forwards, beckon, rebound by adrienne lenker while writing this, thank you for your patience and happy september!

edited, doing taglist when i get back from the gym lmao

—

Falling to his death is taking a lot longer than Luke Castellan thought it would.

For a man with a multitude of regrets, he finds that he can count his biggest ones off the four bloodied fingers that stain his peripherals with every bump and tumble down the jagged rocks of Mount Tamalpais.

What a waste of a life.

Everything he’s ever tried to accomplish has come to this final, humiliating moment of being at someone else’s mercy. Life is so unfair, he thinks, to give everything for love and have it kick you off the side of a fucking mountain that reeks of eucalyptus and regret. Sure, it was wrong to steal the master bolt, to turn his back on camp, poison Thalia’s tree, have his little sister hold up the sky, try to kill Percy Jackson every so often, and cause all this chaos… (I mean you know how this goes) but the pros outweigh the cons here! Promise.

Luke was so sure that they would all see reason—that he was doing this all out of love, no matter how convoluted and backwards his way is compared to theirs, even if he’d never admit that. Change is supposed to be uncomfortable and war was never meant to be pretty. It wasn’t supposed to end like this, really. The gods weren’t meant to win.

But at the end of it all, love must be his greatest weakness. It has to be.

The Fates should be slicing through the fibers of his lifespan by now, ripping through the embroidered memories in his mind. Nothing of his is his own anymore—not his life, nor his love.

Love, if he’s learned anything in the two wretched decades that Hermes himself has cursed his existence with— hurts like a motherfucker. That, or Thalia was definitely wearing steel-toed boots when she kicked his ass off the cliff. He’s given his life for love, dedicating himself to the greater good of protecting his loved ones, and no one, not even the gods could stand in the way of that. A method to his madness or his undeniable naivety, he still can’t tell, but it's gotten him falling deep into an abyss at the hands of a bunch of kids who continually undo his plans to change the world.

Maybe love is little deaths then, and maybe Luke Castellan loves too hard.

There has never been a single moment in his life where he hasn’t gone down fighting—he never lets anything go, holding what’s important to him so close to his chest that it suffocates. Luke believes that after everything he’s been through, he was never meant for mediocrity—not even when it comes to love. Maybe his death would mean something then— maybe that is his glory. To love someone to death, even if it was wrong— if this is his end, maybe his death will bring peace he knows his love never could.

Four names run through his mind like most things do, intense and fleeting. His final thoughts as he plunges toward the earth are his last act of prayer. If the gods have never listened before, well, these thoughts are all he has to comfort him; they feel heavy behind his lips the further he falls.

Could the Fates be wrong?

His fatal flaw manifests itself into the names of four women he knows he could never deserve in this lifetime, but he’d die trying. He is, dying. This fall from grace is proof enough that he was never meant to be a hero. Excessive wrath bleeds from his being until all that’s left is love, and he’s ashamed of it.

Gods, he’s such a fucking loser.

Luke’s neck cracks against stone at the bottom of the cliff, white hot pain crawling up his spine with only one remaining thought clanging around in his brain—he should’ve never fucking come back to San Francisco.

And while we’re talking about regrets—Luke recognizes that the one thing he’s never had control of is love.

So he lets go, feeling the weight of his body crumple against the downhill slope of Mount Tamalpais like a puppet cut from its strings without a single cry of pain because Luke Castellan finally comes to accept the loves and losses of his life. His landing feels softer now, rolling to a stop like the waves on Westport Beach. Then he sinks into the earth with a bated sigh and it feels like gentle hands of loves that once believed in him.

Luke closes his eyes before his world spirals into black—because if these few moments are all he has left, he’d like to take this time to remember them.

MAY CASTELLAN [storgē - στοργή]

Luke Castellan was born into this world half-mortal, half-god, but 100% May Castellan’s son. From the moment he came into this world, he was fully her own. Hermes was a factor, yes—but the manifestation of a demigod is wholly that of the mortal parent in every aspect visible to the naked eye. Blood runs alongside ichor in his veins, but Luke is all hers in every way that matters—from the slope of his nose, his dark velvet curls, and the honey-molten warmth of his eyes. And they were happy together, once upon a time, even if it was mostly just the two of them.

The gods make their half-mortal children in the likeness and image of their human love since their own forms are ever changing. There is nothing permanent about being immortal—leaving their partners with babies that look like them but are vulnerable to the Mist. And when you love a god, the only tangible reminder left behind is one that goes where you cannot follow. Things most can’t understand— speedy baby steps padding down the hall, tiny hands unlocking the pantry door, and a motor mouth able to transmit meaning through toddler gibberish.

But before Luke even knew what love was, his mother made sure he knew hers was stuck to his being—like peanut butter and jelly on the roof of his mouth from all the sandwiches she made. His clothes used to smell like chamomile from her morning brew and his fingers were often stained blue from Kool-Aid powder. May would always let him mix, even if she had to pretend to not see him sipping from the big spoon in the pitcher. Loving a trickster meant she knew how to raise one.

His mother’s love was sugar sweet. It was in the cookies she baked, the kisses she’d press against his broken skin, and in the confectionery words she’d whisper to him before bedtime. As the years passed by, May would end up repeating herself and the ‘i love yous’ were more for her instead of him—like a mantra she needed to remind herself of who she was. But Luke always understood. When her voice would fail and tears would replace it, Luke learned to wipe away what his father left behind for him to take care of.

His identical chocolate irises watched hers turn to emerald, and it was then he knew that too much sugar could make everything rot.

THALIA GRACE [eros-ἔρως]

There was always this intensity whenever he was with Thalia Grace, the daughter of Zeus. And she made sure he always knew it—a static spark igniting between the two of them as soon as their eyes met in the streets of Charleston. Like him, Thalia always made sure to get what she wanted, two north poles of a magnet bullheading through life to get what they’re owed. By that same evening, they were elbow-deep in the golden dust of a dragon that had come home to find two bushy-browed little freaks with arrogance quadruple their size.

Luke and Thalia were a match made in hell—one always trying to outdo the other to get the upper hand when it comes to control. And at 12 years old, it was the first time Luke had ever had anyone fight by his side. But they were both short fuses and she always set him alight—a glint of her father rushing through her glare so hot that it burned blue. He would do anything to keep her attention on him since grabbing devotion by force is all he’s ever known. Moving quickly and being in her face was the only way to remind his mother of her affection so he assumed the same would go with her. That, and he couldn’t help being extra fidgety— being a son of Hermes meant he couldn’t sit still for long.

Though with Thalia’s growing annoyance of Luke, it was established that their dependence on each other was one of necessity to survive the odds stacked against them. She was repelled by what made them so similar, hubris that blinded them from wanting to figure out the difference between surviving and living. There was a poison of hate in their love for one another. A shame in wanting a love that understood the attraction that linked them so early on in life, however innocent.

Both were too alike and were burned the same.

They burned each other. A type of selflessness and selfishness that battled each other for balance, so close but so far away.

There was always something about Thalia that blistered at his confidence. A forbidden part of her he couldn’t bear. It’s why he spit words of acid instead of encouragement once he realized the Furies wanted her the most when they were running for their lives, Luke was always the fastest runner anyway—dragging little Annabeth up Half-Blood Hill and by the time he realized he’d left her for dead she became a hero (he admits now that he could’ve run circles and saved her too; he just didn’t want to).

Thalia Grace gave everything for this love. But she sure as hell never trusted him to do the same for her.

The spark they shared was snuffed out that day. And Luke continued to burn without her.

ANNABETH CHASE [philia- ϕιλία]

Luke Castellan had never been chosen for anything before. Growing up in the mortal world, he was used to watching families eat together through restaurant windows and children playing in parks that he would pass by, taking slower turns around the block so he could imagine what it felt like to be wanted. Luke was never once beckoned to take part, but he accepted long ago that he didn’t really belong anywhere.

It was nice to think about though.

The daughter of Athena doesn’t remember it anymore, something so trivial in that big brain of much more important thoughts—but when she reached her hand out to him instead of Thalia (after almost breaking his skull in with a rusty hammer), it meant everything to him. The kid thought he was a monster at first sight, and she still chose him after everything.

Annabeth Chase grew up idolizing him and he thrived because of it.

Like ambrosia, Luke was strengthened by her faith and it made him feel powerful. Having the daughter of Athena in his life was like being awarded a gold medal. He loved Annabeth like she was his biggest prize, gleaming on a shelf for him to admire when he was feeling down about himself. Both him and Thalia raised her with pride; with little to no material possessions, they learned to make something out of nothing—and they made it golden. He chased that feeling and it made him greedy for her affection—she announced his place in this world of cruelty. The harsh hands of fate were gilded by Midas himself as long as he had Annabeth. And she put him on a pedestal too—an unattainable goal in her mind that the highest form of glory was to be like her older brother and best friend.

Luke Castellan was finally good at something, and he had the proof to show for it in the shape of a small girl with inquisitive eyes. With her, all of his answers were right. To choose each other and be reciprocated with equal fervor helped him idealize what it felt like to win in life.

However Annabeth was not just his best student, but a prodigy that learned to outplay the trickster. An intellect like hers was never meant to corrode in a dusty, dark corner.

YOU [agape- ἀγάπη]

Plato wrote that humans were once created whole— with four arms, four legs, and two faces fused back-to-back for the entirety of their mortal existence. They were at peace, and how could you not be?

With your soulmate at your side, you could face anything, even the gods. And eventually Zeus felt threatened by their power, in knowing that humans could be invincible against any pain, suffering, and doubt as long as their soul was physically and intimately tied with their other half. So he separated humans from their soulmates in a snap of a finger. It was just another thing that jealousy would take away from humankind by immortal beings that would never understand what it means to live with an ending.

There’s a misconception that love is being together in our original state until the gods took it away. But in fact, it was written to be that love is the desire to become whole with someone else, in addition to yourself. Love is the choice to spend your life trying to find your other half—as we are destined to roam until we have someone to share the rest of our time. Humans have long accepted that we don’t know when the end will come—but the act of searching for our person to share it with, that is love.

Love is the ultimate sacrifice to meet your partner wherever they’re at, to make a home out of the rubble of your past and still choose it anyway knowing that the both of you will go hand in hand into the future. It isn’t glory like he’d convinced himself in the past; it’s not accomplishing some heroic feat worth the recognition of the gods—he knows by now that he couldn’t give a single shit about them. The answer had always been right in front of him, unwavering against the test of time with fluttering amethyst eyes and laughter that renders him senseless.

Why go through all that trouble? one might ask. But that is also his answer.

Fate had never cut him loose— tumbling down Mount Tamalpais was one of the many proofs of that, and with nothing else to do, Luke comes to the conclusion that loving you is a lifelong commitment he made to make more time with you.

Shitty deal, he thinks, trying to beat Kronos at his own domain without anyone’s help must have been a waste for it all to end so pathetically.

But loving you was a choice he made every day, even in your absence. It’s his reminder and solemn vow that loving you could never be a waste. Luke laments not being able to take you to meet his mother, or giving you the white house with the big bay windows, but by giving up his life, honor, and whatever glory is still attached to the name Luke Castellan— it must be worth it as long as you’re living the life you deserve.

Even if it means he’s not part of it, he hopes you’re still searching for him too.

—

In the end, even as he falls to his death, he finds himself calling out to his father for the last time. His plea reaches deaf ears of course—but he isn’t begging anymore. Luke Castellan thanks his father for the first and last time in his life and embraces his losses if it meant that he mattered. If not to the gods, then to his mother. To Annabeth. Thalia, even for a short moment, and you.

Especially to you.

Unwavering and without question, to live to the fullest is to have been by your side walking through the woods of Camp Half-Blood and hearing the sound of your cackles through the air, sending animals scattering from something he said.

Because to be loved despite everything he has done, everything he will do— Luke thinks he must be the luckiest man to have ever lived.

Death blankets the weary traveler, and time is an unflinching hand pulling him through a rip in reality. He’s gone in the blink of an eye, falling in reverse to where he needs to be next.

Somewhere, Atropos raises her scissors away from the indelible strand of his life force as she takes a breath and sits back, her sisters unable to do anything else but watch. This boy was becoming more trouble than what even the gods knew he was worth.

Luke Castellan must be lucky, indeed.

—-

Ding.

450, 451, 452, 453…

A wet cough from a satyr next to you disrupts the silence in the elevator up to Olympus; you give him a sideways glance that makes him shift closer to the door with what you hope is a blush and not a fever. It’s warm and stuffy in this 3x4 crystalline box that shoots towards the heavens, and a bit crowded for a weeknight—though you suppose it is the Winter Solstice.

You haven’t been back here since your ex-boyfriend stole the master bolt.

There’s a moment where you wonder if the Fates have ever found your predicament funny, but then the satyr sneezes with a boom.

537, 538, 539, 540…

It’s almost dusk now as clouds roll through the night sky and into the distance. Frost lines the metal frame of the elevator shaft and if you’re flying at the speed of light, it doesn’t seem to be a problem. But this trip is taking much longer than you thought it would for a decision you made on a whim.

You still have a final to take in the morning, and Annabeth wasn’t answering your calls—then her location on Find My iPhone sprung from San Francisco to the middle of Manhattan from the span of your trip on the Long Island Railroad.

Something was up. The sense of something important trickled down your spine like second nature. Can’t this thing go any faster?

It was second nature for you by now to know when something was up, especially with the trio. You’d always make the time for them. Besides, your life has been a little too quiet lately. Being an adult demigod does that; there’s no monsters that bump in the night anymore, just the ones in your head and the ones that make you take finals three days before Christmas.

…600.

Ding.

Weaving through what seems to be a celebration fit for the gods, your glove-clad hands push through the sea of minor godlings, heroes, and Olympians. Aphrodite sends you a wink that makes you feel hot to the touch before you realize Hestia’s eyes are also on you, the both of them clearly whispering about your treacherous love life. You shove your gloves and scarf into your jacket pocket. Bowing your head lightly in greeting, you keep walking further into the grand hall.

It seemed you were always a hot topic up here on Olympus. Great.

The music is so loud you can feel it in your chest, thumping away to the accelerated beat of your heart and by the time you grab a glass of ambrosia-spiked champagne to help with the lump in your throat, you hear the sound of your name in the midst of all the chaos.

A gentle hand grasps your shoulder then, and it’s Percy Jackson adorning a cup of punch and brand new wispy white tendrils that hang across his face. There’s a story that should follow, but he gapes at you like a fish out of water. Looking up at him (this boy grows like a weed!), both of your confused faces mirror each other as you sidle out words he’s still able to hear over the music, “What’s the celebration for? And why have none of you been answering my calls?”

The son of Poseidon swallows hard, until the smell of salt and sea foam surrounds you and you find yourself staring at the god of the sea himself, standing alongside him. With a smile soft like rippling water, he gently says, “I’ll leave you two to it. And I’ll call your father and stepmother over. Good to see you,” Poseidon says your name as he takes his exit. You hoped it was a good thing then, that he knew you.

Percy wondered why he was always left to make the difficult decisions.

He almost sounds like his father when he speaks, calling for your attention again as he clears his throat.

“Listen, I need to tell you something, and I think we should…”

Shaking your head, your eyes are scanning across the room, meeting Annabeth’s as she drops the hand of the minor god she’s dancing with and makes her way over to you. From the other side of the room, Poseidon pushes your father in your direction as he juggles two golden goblets in each hand, led by his wife as they almost float towards you.

“Whatever it is, spit it out Perce. Your audience is growing by the minute.”

“Hey princess, whatcha doing here? Don’t you have a test tomorrow?” You dad grins, nudging your shoulder and handing you one of the goblets. Ariadne presses a kiss against your temple and you smile, taking a sip before hearing Annabeth’s converse squeak to a stop next to you.

“Someone better tell me what’s going on right now,” your eye twitches and then you see Annabeth’s new strands of silver that frame her face as she grabs your arm and nestles against it.

“I…um…” the sandy-haired boy begins, and then your dad groans and you elbow him hard, wine spilling from his lips as his wife giggles like the sound of tinkling bells and you’re about to strangle the teenager on the marble tile he’s planted on.

“Luke’s…”

“Dead.”

Percy’s worried voice intermingles with a new one you haven’t heard before, like a crackling sound that leaves a metallic taste in your mouth, and then a girl shows her face—black eyeliner and silver jewelry clinking against each other as she looks into your eyes and blue meets purple.

So you start laughing. Cackling even, as your head nods slightly, and after they’ve given you a moment to compose yourself you take a big gulp of the drink in your right hand to then chase it with the one on your left.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. He’s not dead,” you insist, and everyone looks at you like you’re insane, even your father, the god of insanity himself. Ariadne’s hand caresses the nape of your neck as she whispers, “Maybe we should take a seat outside, darling…”

“No…No! I mean it,” you say almost incredulously, a hiccup slipping past your lips when you take in too much air. “That motherfucker doesn’t have the audacity to die and if he did, I would know.”

“This is how we’re letting you know,” Annie murmurs, before Percy sighs and his shoulders fall heavy with what seems to be the weight of the world, “She’s right. He’s not dead.”

A myriad of responses blur in the space around you, all going hazy as you blink and stay focused on Percy.

“It’d be too easy…” you murmur, nodding again like you’re convincing yourself of the fact. Annabeth rubs circles into your forearm and you realize you haven’t breathed since the daughter of Zeus made her entrance, “I’d know if he was dead.”

Thalia Grace looks you up and down thoughtfully, “So you’re the collateral damage.”

“Thalia!”

Annabeth exclaims, her hand tightening around yours and you know deep down she’s rejoicing at the news of Luke’s survival. But for yourself, you were unsure if you felt the same, almost chuckling at the irony of almost all of Luke’s favorite people in the same room as the gods he swore to overthrow, “That’s me. You were a tree the last time I saw you.”

“That’s me. I kicked him off a cliff, thought it would’ve done the job, but he’s always been too stubborn.”

A smile spreads across both your faces. You think about Luke interrupting your date last month by barging into your apartment and how that was tough enough to explain to your roommate, much less if you tried to tell your parents and best friends in the middle of a Christmas party.

You make the choice to keep Luke’s visits a secret. It doesn’t come as difficult as you thought it would.

Hermes bumps into your little group, eyes focused on his caduceus as it pings with different messages. The rest of you go quiet, mirth dimming despite the smile on the messenger god’s face and the kids take that as their cue to exit.

“What’s happening? A group like this, and with you making an appearance,” he nods in your direction, “Must be something special.” He nudges your dad, and you’ve forgotten that they’ve been best friends for millenia.

“Your kid’s not dead. You’d know that if you were nosy in the right places,” Dionysus says through a gulp of wine, turning and walking away nonchalantly, making you smile. Hermes looks at you with his face a mix of shock and appreciation, though you’ve done nothing to earn it. He follows your father with a gust of wind billowing behind his traveling feet.

Those two are more trouble than you and Luke were.

Biting your cheek, you turn to Ariadne and scoff, “So…. Do you think I should tell my dad that the other campers snuck into the party half an hour ago?”

Your stepmother laughs, her eyes following her love across the ballroom, choosing to let everyone enjoy the Winter Solstice for once.

—

“When does a war end? When can I say your name and have it mean only your name and not what you left behind?” - Ocean Vuong