#and also i just don’t have access to comics

[damnianalghulnotwayne]

we need more runs with damian and his friends. and don’t say teen titans- not team, his actual friends. all the other batbros have gotten HUNDREDS of comics featured around them and their friends- why can’t we let damian have his friends back and let them interact? just have fun adventures and live like in the other batbros’ stories?? i just think it would be such a fun concept and that the writers r missing out by giving damian angst and forcing him into relationships and forcing him to make friends all over again. i would just like a run were damian has fun with his pre-established friends. is that so much to ask for?

[turtleblogatlast]

Question to everyone

I ask because I realized that with the short eight pager coming out I haven’t actually read any of the other comics beyond a few spreads. I still wanna read all of them eventually, but this question came to me and I wanted to see what others thought.

[diltonsstrangescience]

This is the worst security I’ve seen in my entire life.

[infohazardouz]

DEMON WALLY DESIGNS! im still working out his design but here’s a general vibe hehehahe as well as some thought provoking sketches... HUUUGE infodump about the design & demon wally au below!

below i explain my choice of representing hindu designs as opposed to christian ones! if you want to skip to the relevant information pertaining to the actual au, jump to the big bold JUMP HERE paragraph!

alright, to address the elephant in the room: no, this isn’t the typical demon/devil design you may be used to! i was originally going to keep within the red-horned pointed tail kind of mythos that generally stems from christianity/christianity aligned concepts, but then i realized i honestly don’t know much about that stuff and don’t really feel qualified to handle it in a narrative. i also know that, especially within the welcome home fandom itself, a lot of people have religious trauma that generally tends to be from various branches of christianity, so i thought this would be an interesting solution: seeing as i know a fair amount about hinduism, wally’s design is inspired by concepts about demons in hindusim in general! that way, it’s easy to write and hopefully refreshing/non-triggering to the audience! also it’s fun!

JUMP HERE: Wally’s design in the demon AU is inspired by Asura in hindu mythology! That’s why he’s got like a billion hands- I’m looking at adding jewellery/a tail/other stuff, but it’ll fall in that general theme. in terms of lore relevancy: asura in hindusim were not strictly evil, which you will find reflected in my story. wally isn’t evil per say; the neighbourhood is his turf, and he will protect it from outside threats. that being said- he is generally self-serving for now and may not always have the best intentions for his fellow neighbours. what his overarching goal is and who exactly his enemy is (as well as Home’s relevancy to the story) is being left to you to discover as the comic goes on! themes of puppetry, where wally darling ends and the asura begins, and stuff like that is left ambiguous for now! puppetry will also play a role in the story, as well as self-awareness and meta themes. hinduism and religion WILL NOT play a role in the story itself. anything i think might need contextualizing will be contextualized in the description of every update; honestly im just pulling the asura elements for Wally’s design and part of his character! this will still be a very accessible comic to people of all backgrounds. if you have any questions or concerns please don’t hesitate to send them to my askbox or leave them in the comments!

[proxycrit]

I love your au!!! I love how the hylian duo look like gremlins, I LOVE the expressions and sass constantly and the changes to the lore, the worldbuilding and also the emotions (OUCH). I love their relationship with purah and each other and the new champions. I love the depth you gave Yona and her relationship with Sidon and Mipha. I love how link feels comfortable talking to sidon in addition to sign, I don't know if he does that with anyone else but Zelda unless its absolutely necessary (eg: just launched out a cannon and is paragliding down, so hands are busy) (side note: i love how much of an adrenalin junky/gremlin he is!!)

I do got a few questions! Will the pair get the sheikah slate again (so say link has the slate and zelda the pad), and can both slates do the warping and item storage (food, ingredients, armor, weapons, etc) (if so: no WONDER link was so upset! His collection!)

Does link have access to the ultrahand abilities (ik you said not The ultrahand, but what about fuse or ascend or rewind etc?) Where is the mastersword??

Does Link still have the champions' abilities, or did he lose those when their spirits moved on at the end of botw?

I know these are a lot of questions but I can't stop thinking about it!! The last few updates sent me back rereading the whole au and now its just vibrating in my head and giving me no piece

This is long and rambly, just know I am very much enjoying this au! Its silly and fun and touching and cute. Thank you for working on it!!

Oo some notes (also ty for circling my au haha im glad other people fixate like i do)

(Prewarning— i did not finish totk despite putting triple hours in it, so a lot of this story is being written while playing, though i know the big broad strokes thanks to cultural osmosis and video essays. A lot of Familiar Familiar builds from my playthrough with BOTW over TOTK, so the sheikah influence is significantly stronger and I will always choose botw characterization over totk characterization as a result.)

That aside

1. Sheikah slate’s dead. Rest in pieces, link’s rare collectable korok poop. Purah’s extracting as much data as she can to put on the purah pad but you can see the dread in her eyes whenever she has to tell link resurrection is not possible.

2. No idea about the zonai arm powers yet— im thinking about ascend, but the longer i go through this story the less likely ill hand it to him just due to immersion breakage. He and zelda will be getting sheikah gadgets from purah though! Maybe ill have a scene of him wandering through the sky island shrines, but without zelda warning rauru he and sonia wouldnt have prepared anything for the hero of the future. (But i DO love ascension and fuse. Lowkey dislike the building mechanics from a concept art pov because the green glue makes me want to cry, but it’s FINE i GUESS)

2b. Master sword’s chilling in korok forest. Link put it back in this au because of Reasons (part of his and zelda’s characterization in this au is to discard their past roles and embrace the present, not as knight and princess but as hero and researcher. They both have to face the reality those roles aren’t dead, but it’s a work in progress. I may also never address it. This “one off hehe lemme draw some guys” idea quickly spiraled into a web comic series so apologies for the vagueness, because i too am watching them adventure with dread and awe and i don’t know where they’ll go with it. They literally write themselves.

3. Rip champions, their ghosts are Gone (but their influence remains. You go mipha, keep haunting the narrative girl, i love you)

I know that some of these story notes don’t quite match up to what totk states is stone cold canon, but that’s the joy of fan work! Anyways sorry for folks who i have NOT answered asks of— i have a lot of them and I’m much better at the drawing and writing part then the socialization aspect (please feel free to peak in to my zoo enclosure ever so often though. I need the enrichment)

[palmerzy]

giggles and jumps up and down

so i saw that you have bruce wayne in who you write for 😍😍. and i was wondering if i cpuld ask for bruce as batman fucking catwoman!reader after she robbed another jewwlry store...like hes tried to wip fuck her into shape

hi anon!! thank you dearly for requesting bruce because i’ve been dying to write for him <3 i always write/perceive him as a dom bc usually i envision either comic!bruce or bale!bruce but if you want any sub stuff deffo lmk :) or just any more bruce stuff hehe

you can picture this drabble with any bruce you want ofc!!

NSFW! - explicit sexual themes.

bruce wayne immediately knows it’s you again when the radio in the batmobile crackles to life and speaks of a jewellery heist just a few blocks down, and before he knows it he’s turning the car around in an instant, muttering something to himself about ‘the brat not knowing when to give up.’

he knows for sure that it’s you the second he arrives to the scene and sees no obvious signs of a break in, because you’re stealthy, and you’re only here for one reason. the single piece of jewellery to have been swiped is a cat-eye pendant, and he notices it dangling around your neck once you turn the corner, a wicked grin gracing your lips, crinkling your eyes beneath the domino mask. your body is graced in a skin-tight leather suit, one he’s come to know his way around all too well, and a cutesy pair of cat ears adorn your head, making you seem more innocent than he knows you to be, especially when you greet him: “hey, batty, come to play with me?”

bruce is aware of what you’re doing, he’s fully aware of your tactical manipulation - setting up an entire heist just because you know he’ll eventually end up fucking you in the back, having his way with you before the cops arrive, under the guise of teaching you a lesson.

the first time it had happened wasn’t intentional, but the way you’ve both adjusted your suits for easy access conveys the intention now lurking behind every act, every movement. the sounds of sirens in the distance has him pouncing, and before you know it he’s got you bent over a glass jewellery case, his hands roaming the tight leather covering your ass whilst his cock plunges into your welcoming depths at a speed you’re sure the flash even couldn’t rival with.

you’ve done this plenty of times by now, and bruce knows how to have you mewling for him, how to have your back arched perfectly, giving him a reason to tease you about just how catty you really are. he’s not gentle, either, - why would he be? you’re a criminal, and he’s going to treat you like one. one of his hands is in your hair, twirling it around before tugging harshly, watching the cat ears jostle from the movement, and his teeth peek beneath his rosy lips in a smirk. “how many times are y’gonna make me do this? huh?” “always need me to fuck you silly so you understand properly, don’t you?” “can’t keep stealin’, can’t keep makin’ me set you straight like this.”

bruce is also fully aware that the more he fucks you, the more you’ll come back. he can feel it in the way your walls tighten around him when his pulsing tip smacks against that silky spot inside of you with every. single. thrust. he doesn’t care that his method is doing the exact opposite of what he’s telling you. he wants you to come back. he needs you to come back.

it’s bad, he knows that, he knows he shouldn’t enjoy the thrill of trying to make you come before authorities arrive on the scene and his cop buddy gordon sees him stuffing you to the brim. that definitely wouldn’t give him any better of a reputation than he’s already got. ‘bat shamelessly engages sexually with criminal cat lady’ isn’t a headline he wants to see. but god, he can’t stop himself. not when he can hear your claws scratching against the glass beneath you, and he can see the way your tits are squashed up against it, stretching your leather suit.

never in his life has he gotten so hard for someone so quickly, he knows that now. every time he sees you, he’s hard. your face in the paper, on wanted posters around gotham, in his mind as his hand wraps around his cock in the early hours of the morning, all of it makes him achingly hard, thinking of when he’ll get you take you again.

yet, nothing in the world compares to how he feels like this, the adrenaline rush he gets from drilling into you at one of your crime scenes. “nothing more than a criminal and a whore f’me,”he’d grit into your ear, large palm smacking down onto your backside, watching your skin ripple beneath the material covering it. “not gonna stop, are you?” “gonna make me come ‘n’ find you every week just to fill this perfect little cunt,” “can’t get enough, kitty, can’t ever get enough of me,” he grunts and he groans, loudly, and you’re sure he enjoys this as much as you do.

nobody has ever fucked you the way batman fucks you, so never in a million years would you stop coming back. he can call you whatever names he wants, but deep down you know he wants this too, he needs the release of slamming into your pliant body, of holding you with a bruising grip as you squeal and whine for him.

the sirens are closer now, and he’s snapped back to reality, whilst his hips snap back into you. the coil in his stomach is tightening all too fast, his load ready to shoot into your stretched hole and mark you as property of the bat, whether gotham approves or not. he’s learned that if he doesn’t make you come from his cock, you’ll return to him sooner, and he enjoys that. he enjoys knowing you need him, you need to be fucked into oblivion and need him to make you squelch around his cock, especially as the kevlar of his suit slams against your clit.

this time, he’s not letting you come. “pulling me away from people who actually need me just because you can’t go a week without my cock? pathetic,” he groans, feeling sweat pool on his skin, smudging his eyepaint when he finally spills into you, long ropes of his release spanning your aching pussy. in all honesty, he doesn’t really give a fuck if you suffer the consequences of him coming inside of you. he’s sure you’re on a contraceptive, but if you’re not, he deems it as you just being desperate to carry a piece of the bat with you forever, and he’s perfectly content with that.

he’s pulling out in an instant and zipping you back up before his come can spill out of you, leaving you stretched and empty, a whine slipping through your pouted lips. “get outta here before i hand you over to the cops,” “i’m sure they’d love to have you up in arkham, mm, seein’ your pretty little kitty up in a cell.” “you don’t want that, d’you? no? get out,” he’d command all in all, delivering a final smack to your pussy over your suit when he sees you rolling your eyes, and soon enough you’re dashing out of the building.

sure, he thinks he’s in charge, but you know how tightly the bat is wrapped around your little finger. you know he needs your body just as much as you need his, and he’s not as good at hiding his willingness to abide by your calls whenever he arrives on scene, just minutes after you do. the bat is positively pussy drunk, and it’s evident.

i hope you enjoyed <3 requests are open!

[neptunes-sol-angel]

Pick the picture(s) that you're drawn to the most, then scroll down for its corresponding message about the pov of your spirit guides and their message to you

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Pile One

I feel like your relationship with your guides is like “hide and seek”. They have an old presence in your life. Even if you are just now beginning your spiritual journey or are just now having the urge to seek out more about them and who they are, it seems as if they have always been in your life, and already have a connection or have had close contact with you. Specifically when you were a kid. Perhaps you’ve had “imaginary friends”, repetitive encounters with the same person or entity in your dreams, or have parents who recall you being distracted and smiling a lot at what appears to be mundane things as a baby. I call this hide and seek, because it’s like a lot of your occultic knowledge or experience psychic gifts were things that you’ve already learned as a child, but were conditioned to move away from for whatever reason. Your stunted relationship with your guides could appear in interests that you also had to separate from, like studying mythology, an interest in plants but also marine animals, gaming, drawing comic book characters, collecting items for yourself but stopping because someone considered that as not intellectual or important, and even crafting things yourself, regardless of how good you were at it, but because it gave you peace and happiness. Your guides see you as their family, they protect you like they are your parents, because their love for you is like having a child. They love it when you’re being silly and they love to sneak in silly things for you, to let you know that they’re here and when something is going to be ok. Maybe you use dark humor frequently as a way to cope with something that you’re struggling with or when you think about the ways that you’ve been let down in the past. You joke that way because you feel that it’s the only way to have some control in a situation that you predetermined will go down hill and be the end of you. You could talk to yourself or talk about your life in a way that is self-loathing and impeded, but your guides work and send you messages meant to bring you back up whenever you’re losing your determination to keep going. They’ll joke with you, but not in a way that encourages you to lose hope or to fail in seeing the good in yourself. It’s more like instead of showing you to laugh at yourself, you laugh at your mistakes, or you laugh at how crazy other people can be when they displace their negative inner feelings onto other people to show that it has nothing to do with who you are, what you do, or what you look like. Money is strong in this pile. This could be a message saying that you won’t have to fear about money forever and that a financial breakthrough is going to happen for you and you’re going to be financially stable doing something that you love or are currently building to support your living situation. However, mainly, I’m getting that in your spirit guides’ eyes, they’ve watched you grow up feeling less than because you didn’t grow up with a certain luxury, maybe you grew up in poverty, felt insecure about the things that seemed so easily accessible to everyone but you, or don’t know what it’s like to have a loving parent, but your guides have always seen you as a rich person and it has nothing to do with material items. They see you as brilliant, you work so hard for what you have and you’ll see the results multiply in the future, even if you struggle to find the right words for yourself–You always know what to say to others about stuff that they struggle to see within their own lives.

Pile Two

Your strongest clair could be clairaudience. If not, then it feels like you guys are good with picking up things by what people or say, or you have a strong intuition for what isn’t visible or said, but you have a poor time going forward with your intuition. When you get “right”, you tend to go left, then regret what you find out because you didn’t listen to what was initially divinely given to you. Your guides are nature beings, you can connect with them through plants but also relics or shrines. I keep getting inanimate objects, so you could have a few deities that govern planets, like moon goddesses watching over you. I feel that the connection that you have with your guides is like Yue from Avatar: The Last Airbender. You mirror each other and embody dark feminine energy. They’re gentle, ancient, and wise. People think that all spirit guides are like that, but no. Guides have personalities of their own, and not all are good. They see you as loving, maybe too loving, meaning you love without boundaries which could cause you some pain and a lot of repressed anger. You may not like to be perceived or put on a pedestal, but they do, because they truly see what’s in your heart. You just need guidance. They accept you for your good and bad traits, but it doesn’t mean they don’t lead you into improvement and learning to take accountability. You can be sweet, but you can also be bitter. They feel hurt when they see that you’re hurting, but they don’t want you to hold on to bitterness because people that harmed you will see that again and it’s not your business as to when. I will say that this isn’t to mistake them as peace and turn the other cheek, because they are not. They are wrathful behind the scenes towards people who hurt you or even think about hurting you. They’re very protective over your life, but there are some things you have to do to look after yourself since you guys are from two different worlds. This pile feels extremely hazy. They say that you are so smart, beautiful, and talented, but you have trouble seeing this and it pains them. You have potent manifesting abilities that range from making things happen yourself with your skills to knowing how to conjure with spirituality. It’s like you can create and create, but that’s still not enough for you, even when you are likely to top the latest thing you achieved. You need to learn how to rest and also be okay with yourself. There’s this habit of working and studying a lot for credentials, but still feeling less confident, leading you to give your power away to people who are boastful. This is a problem if you are psychic and are trying to find your way in spiritual communities or communicating with other spiritual people. Stop falling for words that convince you that someone knows more occultic knowledge than you or about your own personal journey and intuition. This is also a message for people to stop shying away from making content or starting a business in the occult because you fear that other people are better than you when that isn’t true, and stay away from people who influence you to think like that because they are not your friends or someone to trust.

Pile Three

You guys could have a lot of ancestral type spirits in your team and are probably reincarnations of ancestors in your past bloodline. You guys are cycle breakers and reapers of work and good karma that’s been gained in the spiritual world, meaning lots of inheritances, especially if you have passed down closed spiritual practices. This pile reminds me of the 4h-10h axis in astrology, each house rules over many different things but what sticks out that relates to this reading is the fourth house dealing with ancestors and the 10th house dealing with your public reputation. A lot of celebrities are famous because they have strong ties with their ancestors who are well respected spirits. People in this pile are destined for blazing success and fame. This can reveal itself in different professions, that could be but are not limited to, writers, actors, singers, entrepreneurship or something related to public speaking. Even though I feel practitioners and believers of spirituality in this pile, especially since this is a tarot reading, there’s a lot of skepticism here. There’s not enough trust or belief and this could be upsetting to your guides, they’re able to see things beyond your present reality which could make them patient, you could even be an impatient person, but it seems like both of you need to allow time to do its thing. Your guides see what you’re capable of, and before you are finally able to see it if you don’t already, they don’t want you to become arrogant and feel like potential is enough to back you up. They believe in putting in the work. They also see that you’re traditional even though you don’t want to be. You guys could be raised around a religion where witchcraft is shunned upon, and speaking about ancestors is discouraged which could explain the impatience. This could also be interpreted as you seeing this success but frustration over how far away it feels or how impossible it could be, and it’s like they see you as being dramatic or frantic about things that are going to inevitably work out. There was a message that I channeled for pile one and didn’t mention but I’m receiving it strongly here instead. It’s like things could be taking their time because you have to learn self-control. They don’t want you to let money and social climbing get into your head and make you forget where you come from, humility, and being in community with others. The fame and success isn’t given for you to hoard, but so that you can continue spreading the blessings to others, especially in your family.

[indigo-flowers09]

Here have some mama roba doodles for me to rant under :]

big fat RANT under the cut. just wanted an excuse to post it by posting doodles

its about why i haven’t been posting as much and a bit about the c!overtale comic ( >vo) ~*

So. i have not been posting as much as i used to. and i definitely have not been updating c!overtale as much as i want to.

I get that as i get further and further into the school year i’m gonna have more work and it gonna get harder, but i’m still making good grades so i just haven’t had as much time or energy to work on c!overtale or digital art as i want.

First off, i’ve been drawing traditionally a lot more. i don’t post it often because it just doesn’t do as well on here compared to digital art. it’s what’s accessible to me at school and just. easier. right now.

i’m not the only person who gets into a cycle of (good at digital > bad at digital > good at traditional > bad at traditional > good at digital) right??? i’m just in a bad at digital swing right now

Second, C!overtale. I’ve REALLY been wanting to talk about it. just another reason i haven’t been posting as much.

so far, of what i haven’t posted, i have 2 pages completely finished, five more inked, and at LEAST 30 to 40 more thumbnailed. i’m planning on having the next update be seven pages total, and i’ve been working on them little by little for over a month now.

this is really taking a lot longer than i wanted but i know the quality of work i’m capable of producing and i want to achieve it. i don’t want to half ass something i’m so passionate about just for the likes or to satisfy my social anxiety telling me people already forgot about it.

Expect that update by the end of the month. i’m gonna try to wrap it up over thanksgiving break. i really am sorry it’s taking so long, i’ve been working on that and school and, shivers, self care ewww like healthier habits and all the doodling in the world. i doodle when life gets uncontrollably political. i hate politics.

if you actually read all the way through this, thank you and why????? have some more mama roba for your inconvenience. she’s giving clover a bubble bath :3

Also im working on a drawing that’s shaping up to be pretty good. hope y’all like yuri 😼

[kuj0goth]

Hi I don’t know if I’m onto something here or just crazy but I just noticed that Ford’s eyes seem to be slightly triangle shaped a lot of the time in your blind eye ford au art, specifically when Ford is doing something Fidds doesn’t like? So I guess I’ll also take the opportunity to ask what Bill is doing in the au since you mentioned he would play a role. (Love this au so much btw you are so cool for making it. I need my Fucked Up Fidds content fix and you are providing)

Hello! I would first like to congratulate you on being an ideal Gravity Falls fan. This is a fandom that thrives on people looking for details and connecting dots.

Unfortunately, any resemblance to triangles in Ford’s eyes was purely coincidental, but I love where your mind is going with this! Im incredibly touched that you took the time to analyze my artwork :] I will reward you with some information about Bill’s role in the au! Do keep in mind that nothing is set in stone and any of this could later change.

Bill Cipher took a personal offense in Fiddleford’s actions. She erased Ford’s memory partially so the progress on the portal would be halted, and also to render Bill’s deal with Ford is null, and lock him out of Ford’s head.

Now that portal plans are in ruin and Bill is unable to possess Ford, it would make sense for him to move on and find some other victim to build the portal for him. Or he could find somebody else, try out the cult thing again, et cetera. The fatal flaw in Bill’s plan is that he didn’t expect to get so attached to Ford, and now he is determined to finish what they started together. Additionally, he feels that his toy was taken from him, and wants to get back at Fiddleford for messing everything up. He no longer has access to the physical world and thus has to influence people through dreams.

He does have to tread lightly, however, as Ford’s delicate mental state makes everything 10x more complicated. Throw Stanley into the mix and you have the the au; a confusing psychological jumble of characters competing and strategizing to have things their way.

Comically confusing relationship chart to help, or perhaps only confuse you more!

[bigfatbreak]

Hey I was wondering if you would do a post about how you make your feralnette au? I really like how you color it and was curious about your process.

Yes this is absolutely for plagiarism purposes /j

(I want to incorporate something similar on a smaller scale within my artwork, I don’t plan on posting anything but I can run the art past you if your worried about me actually stealing your style)

sure! as a note I'm not a pro or anything, this is just how I render my comic for ease of access

as a general note I draw everything in black and white first

I use a LOT of texture heavy brushes for effects, and specifically because I render with gradient maps a lot. people ask me why I do AU's in different styles - usually anything outside of feralnette is done in color - but that's because the rendering process is different.

for instance in the dad villain au, I do basic linework and chunky colors. if I was to do Feralnette in the same style, the gradient maps wouldn't nearly have the same effect, as you can see up there ^

when a gradient map is applied I can fiddle with the color values to set a Tone for the update I'm going for, while also making it really pretty, bc textures can really bloom the subtle colors in a gradient map. I get a lot from the CSP page itself, but I also MAKE a lot too. this specific map I made by color picking off of a neuron map from a brain scan I thought was pretty~

I don't do the feralnette AU in full color because generally, anything IN full color will have significance - either to show that a scene is important character development,

is a flash back,

or to put emphasis on something supernatural happening.

with Feralnette, when something is colored purposefully, its to emphasize it, whether that be to highlight character moments, or to stress that something eldritched and unnatural could be occurring, as its colors that do not exist in the pre-existing gradient map. Color out of space, yknow?

((SOMETIMES I put gradient maps on my colored chunky stuff, but once again, for the purpose of creating a tonal shift, like when papa Tom shows up in the dad villain AU!))

anyway I hope that helped!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Do you know if Riddle, or Tray, ever stands up to his mother? I think i saw it in a Pinterest post once of teen Riddle being slapped by his mom and Tray taking him away.

His background is sadder than Shoto Todoroki from BNHA

We don’t really get to hear about how things are going back home with Mrs. Rosehearts outside of one brief instance. In 4-3, Riddle is leaving for winter break and mentions he intends on speaking with his mother, though he isn’t optimistic about her listening.

Trey states in the same part of the story that he isn’t allowed at Riddle’s house (because Mrs. Rosehearts has banned him). However, Riddle is still invited to visit him and Chenya at the Clover family bakery (though it’s very unlikely Riddle would be able to, since he hasn’t canonically seen Chenya again since the unbirthday party of book 1).

We never get a follow-up on how the conversation between Riddle and his mother went. It’s never touched upon again, and his mom isn’t really brought up beyond this case. (I did happen to write a short piece about Trey, Riddle, and Mrs. Rosehearts interacting though, if you were interested in seeing my own interpretation of this idea.)

Riddle spends most of his time at NRC since it’s a boarding school, meaning there are few opportunities for him to directly interact with his mother. Even if Mrs. Rosehearts were readily accessible to him, I highly doubt we would get to witness Riddle or Trey doing much to talk back to her. As we see in book 4, Riddle is still quite meek and uncertain when it comes to speaking with his mom. Trey, meanwhile, is generally very non-confrontational and may still be dealing with his own complicated feelings about interfering with what are family matters. (Recall that the last time he encouraged Riddle to be adventurous, it resulted in his friend being severely punished and Trey may harbor guilt over this occurrence.) I feel that neither of them would realistically develop the courage to talk back to Mrs. Rosehearts when only like half a year has passed since Riddle’s OB incident as opposed to like seventeen years of Riddle living under her rules.

***CONTENT WARNING: I will be discussing abuse at length under the cut, so please be advised to avoid reading further if the topic makes you uncomfortable.***

Regarding the comic you saw on Pinterest, it is fan art. That is in no way canonical; Mrs. Rosehearts may be very stern and have a temper, but she has never slapped or otherwise put a hand on Riddle. The closest thing we get to a slap is this panel from the manga adaptation, which isn’t even a slap. You can tell from the movement lines and the FWP sfx that Mrs. Rosehearts is just quickly pulling her arm away since Riddle is trying to latch onto it in an attempt to get her to listen to his protests. There is also no mark on Riddle or harsh slap sfx to indicate contact was made.

Now then 💦 There's something very serious and relevant to this ask I'd actually like to discuss, so I hope you'll stick around to hear me out on this.

I know none of us really like Mrs. Rosehearts (which is fair, she has done a lot of terrible things to her son). However, I think it's dangerous for us to speak about her as though she's a total monster and nothing more than a monster. I'm NOT going to stand here and advocate that she has done nothing wrong (she definitely has committed many wrongs). What I'm saying is that I don't agree with her being treated like "just" an abuser.

Let's say we do demonize Mrs. Rosehearts. We see only her negative traits and allow those to define her entire character. This creates a scenario in which she is alienated and dehumanized, left as a caricature of a woman that is solely known for hurting her child. But the thing is, this ISN’T how abuse really works. Few abusers are completely wicked people through and through. Part of the reason why it is so difficult for victims to leave their abusers is because abusers almost never start off abusive. They usually act totally normal, and the abuse often doesn’t come until later or specific situations arise. It creeps up on you in an almost insidious manner, and you don’t expect it coming. I’d also like to mention that abusers often don’t act with the intentional thought of, “Yeah, what I’m doing/saying is abusive”. Abusers typically justify their actions or convince themselves they are acting out of goodness. They don’t do bad things “because they’re bad people”, they do bad things because they think they’re GOOD people. Some abusers may even be victims themselves.

By painting abusers (even fictional ones) as cartoonishly evil, irredeemable, or always cruel, it makes it harder for us to believe the very real danger that we, whom we see as “good” people, could become “bad” ourselves. It makes it harder to believe victims when they report abuse because “oh, the abuse isn’t THAT bad”. It erases the idea that abusers are also human, and that humans have the capacity to be awful sometimes or to perpetuate hurt. It makes it so much harder to identify abuse because we’d only be looking for the most extreme examples of it rather than noticing the small, subtle signs. By “othering” abusers, it’s inadvertently denying so many nuances of abuse... which ultimately is counterproductive.

I would like to point out that even in the example provided of another abusive parent, Endeavor is portrayed with some nuance. He physically and verbally abused his wife, neglected the children he deemed worthless, and pushed the child he deemed to be his successor to the brink. However, Endeavor is also shown to remember a detail as small as his (arranged) wife’s favorite flower when she only told him about it once. He is notably much more lenient when training his first son, who didn’t have the ideal Quirk he sought. Endeavor at one point even confesses to pursuing being a hero in order to avoid the demands of fatherhood, which demonstrates a realistic insecurity and vulnerability… his humanity.

The same could be true for Mrs. Rosehearts. We only assume he is “just an abuser” because we see her in such a limited scope. There are valid reasons to believe why she is a “good” person outside of how we see her acting in Riddle’s recollections, and this may help to explain why Riddle feels so hesitant to “stand up” to her. I would really recommend reading this post, which goes a lot more in-depth about the complications surrounding Riddle’s relationship with his mother. Again, I am in NO WAY defending Mrs. Rosehearts; I am only pointing out that abusers—no matter how horrible their actions—have identities beyond the label of “abuser” that should be acknowledged.

[alparlaboratories]

Yuri Game Jam 2024 - Retrospective, thoughts and five recommendations.

As my favorite yearly pre-holidays tradition, the Yuri Game Jam has once again come and gone, giving us a staggering 110 games, comics, zines and pieces of writing to gnaw on for the remainder of the year. The timing is, as always, on point. A 2-month period where I’m given the task to make something is just what I need to keep the stress of the dying year at bay and avoid losing my mind, and I’m sure it’s the same for a lot of us.

And though the Yuri Game Jam has been going strong for nearly ten years and I’ve only been part of the last two, I’m amazed by how much it’s grown. Not just in the amount of entries, but in the scope and craft of the games themselves. I always strive to play every single entry from a jam I’m part of to the best of my ability, and though I haven’t gone back yet and played the submissions for the eight yuri jams I’ve missed (like with everything, I just gotta find the time) just comparing last year to this one gives me a lot of appreciation for the people who put so much work into it, especially those I recognized from 2023’s jam, whose craft has definitely evolved. And some others making their debut who absolutely blew my socks off with their entries. More on that soon.

Regardless, hi. My current online moniker is Inyssa; I’m an Argentinian creature who’s very new to the world of Original English Visual Novels, and someone new to VNs in general, but who’s fallen in love with the genre and wants to learn all about it. I’ve made two VNs so far (Don’t Die Digging and Blunt Soul Trauma) both for Yuri jams, though I still feel like I have a lot to learn, which is why I try to play as many OEVNs as possible, and also read/watch what inspired them.

I’m not in the habit of writing long pieces like this one, but I just had a lot of thoughts bouncing off after playing a good chunk of the entries for this year, and I had to get them out somehow. So here we are.

First off, a shoutout and big thanks to nadia nova and SabrinaTVBand, the organizers of the jam and two amazing creators in their own right.

So here’s my idea. I’ll give a small introduction to my thoughts on this year’s jam after this, and then I’ll recommend five (maybe a few more) recommendations from this jam for you to play. Except a top-5 would be, I fear, a little repetitive. I know what I like in terms of VNs, and if I just listed my five favorites there’d be a bunch of the same type of VN, which is not my intention. I want a little variety.

As such, I’ll list out five different types of games, five categories decided completely arbitrarily by me, and assign a ‘best game’ to each of them. Because while I went through these entries, there were times I saved the heavy ones for when I was in the right headspace, and some of the softer ones for when I needed a break. So hopefully there’ll be a little something here for everyone.

Yeah? Yeah.

Some barely-connected thoughts about this jam, and my impressions so far.

Again, I’m speaking as someone who’s only been here for the past two jams, so I’m not sure how much insight I can give here. It’s just my thoughts and my impressions.

What caught my attention the most about this year’s jam, what pleasantly surprised me, was the variety of submissions. And I don’t mean that in genre or themes. Though there is a very healthy mix of those, but it’s more the types of stories, the way they were told and crafted, the skill that went behind them, that was so nice to see. And not to say it wasn’t good last year. I was just as impressed in 2023, playing game after game the likes of which I didn’t know I could have access to before.

And it’s not until I had this year to compare it to, I think, that I noticed how much more diverse the jam has gotten. And less streamlined, more blurry in a good way when it comes to intent, craft and themes in a way that kind of feels like a genre’s growth into something like negative capability, though that’s maybe too much to speculate for someone so new to it.

To put it more plainly, looking back I see a lot of what seem like similar through-lines, similar family trees you could say in the way a good number of the games were made, in what they reminded me of. You could tell there were some convergent inspirations. Which is common when it comes to artists and writers who know each other, and who surely recommend other works to each other that they’re particular to. Vonnegut, Nabokov, Mishima, Joseph Heller, Dennis Cooper, Dostoevsky and a pinch and a dash of Mark L. Danielewski; those are a few of the authors I kept thinking back on in retrospect as I re-visited last year’s games. And while they are fantastic inspirations, there’s a lot of intersecting lines in between them. A cultural and geographical quirk/fascination for a type of individualistic apathy that’s to be expected in a mostly English-speaking jam, and certainly not something that made me enjoy it or those games any less, but a scope I’m very happy to see widen in 2024’s set of submissions.

It’s just nice to have variety, you know? Also a bigger pool of myth re-imaginings and re-tellings, which I’m so happy to see this year. One of my favorite parts of any game jam is to play/read something and then immediately go experience whatever it was inspired by, and that this year’s jam gave me that opportunity many more times shows its growth alone, in my opinion.

And now I’ll give some examples. Not all of the categories will be about what I wrote above; there’ll still be a good amount of that goodness reminiscent of last year that made me fall in love with the jam in the first place. But there’ll be more of it than last time for sure.

In any case, here’s my five recommendations (plus a couple more) of games to play from this jam, each with an accompanying song of my choosing, most/all from my own country. We make good music, what do you want me to say?

Without further ado:

5 - “Porque no hay tiempo de amargarse ni llorar por un pasar mejor (Because there's no time to cry and feel bitter about what might’ve been).”

(Or: Psychosexual capitalist hellscape games)

Accompanying song: Cartonero by Ataque 77

This is, I’m sure, what many know the Yuri Game Jam best for, its bread and butter. And for good reason. You go to your favorite neighborhood food joint for the sandwich that reminds you of home, and you go to this particular game jam for the sopping wet pathetic girlthings being ground into paste by the masticating gears of capitalism. 

This year’s crop didn’t disappoint on that front. It was actually hell to decide a best for this category.

But ultimately, I think the spot has to go to Heatwave by deaddeaddeath.

Content warnings: Dehumanization, self-harm, blood and violence, religious and sexual abuse, and more. Carefully look over the CWs in the game page before playing.

As I said before, this was so, so difficult. I knew that Heatwave deserved a recommendation as soon as I played it; one of the first games I played from the jam, actually. And then I played so many more that were just as good in that regard. Games that could’ve just as easily taken this spot… but none who reached this level of excellence, if only by a hair’s width.

One of those games is EasyXShot, which could’ve been the one chosen had I written this list some other day. It really was that close (if this were a straight-up top five, EasyxShot would be up there) and it’s a game that deserves to be played as long as you read the CWs beforehand. It has an immaculate dynamic between its two main characters, which is all you need to build a story really, but this one goes above and beyond. Another is No Dogs Under Heaven, which isn’t as much about capitalism, but definitely about grinding and crushing. Though it’s unfinished as of the time of me writing this, it made someone like me who has zero religious trauma deeply, deeply uncomfortable in a way I look for in these types of games, and also deserves a recommendation.

Anyway, onto Heatwave.

Catgirl suffers in capitalist hellscape

…is the main tag for the game, and it’s accurate. Angel (it/its) is a young cat hybrid who is in a not thoroughly explained and dubiously-consensual relationship with an older woman who runs a bar, living upstairs and helping her with whatever it can, whether it be its body or its skills. Unfortunately, even this isn’t enough for Angel to earn a living, and her caretaker needs money to keep it at her side. Left with no other choices, Angel applies to be a guide for the Heatwave, an impossibly vast and physics-defying space in between spots in the world where a blisteringly hot suburban landscape stretches into infinity, sapping the will and sanity of all who enter without being able to navigate it, which Angel seems to have an aptitude for. What follows is one of the best visual novels I’ve ever played.

Above, I said that I appreciate games that spark in me the curiosity to go and experience what they were based on, and Heatwave did that twice for me. Once with Roadside Picnic, and once for Not I (although that one isn’t as tied to the game per se).

But beyond that, I picked Heatwave for this spot because I genuinely think every part of it just works. 

Writing, first and foremost. The prose is raw and evocative, a gut punch through words for every one there is textually within the story, and it reads so beautifully on top of that. ‘...wait until its shrapnel thoughts caltrop picasso’, as another reviewer commented, is one hell of a descriptive phrase. It’s the kind of prose that makes the eyes stick to every word.

The sound design and the use of sound assets is perfect for the setting. The visuals and the way they’re programmed, the sharp, static-y cut-ins and the PC-98 reminiscent decorative boxes around the game and around the character portraits are beautiful, and so are the portraits themselves. The expressions, the little facial animations, everything makes me want to learn how to do it myself.

Not to mention Del and Angel’s relationship, which is like watching a train speed full-steam ahead onto a concrete wall, and being unable to do anything about it. Angel’s struggles, its quirks and triggers and everything else about it is so well-thought out, and it’s all integrated into the setting of the game itself, into the Heatwave in a way that tells a story on top of another story without words.

Heatwave is an incredible piece of art, and it’s what I hope to see every time I play one of these games.

4 - “Los viejos reyes vendrán con la tempestad (The old kings will come riding atop the storm).”

(Or: Re-imaginings of myths and folklore.)

Accompanying song: El Reino Olvidado by Rata Blanca.

I couldn’t be happier that we’re spoiled for choice here, difficult though it makes choosing a best one amongst all these games. Though it’s not specifically mythological stories I wanted more of. It’s more the subtle differences like fingerprints that you can sometimes see in works made by non primarily English-speaking teams or developers, even if I’m not sure all the ones mentioned here count for that. Still, part of the reason I’ve been toying with the idea of launching a Global South game jam is to bring a little more spotlight to these kinds of stories, and to have them for myself so I can experience them, of course.

There were four games vying for this spot. First there’s Lanú, who I almost made the winner mostly because it’s a promising demo with an ambiance and a setting that really appeals to me, also being a Spanish-speaker, and the fact it’s also available in that language is a huge bonus. 

Second is Night on the Bayou, a hilarious and very competently-made game about a Lousiana deadwoman rising from her grave as all specters do at the same time of year, and going on a quest to marry to her beloved before her time is up and she has to go back to the bayou. The art and the sprites are gorgeous, and it was also this close to winning the spot.

Third is Prisoner of the Mist, a beautiful T4T re-imagining of a few Scottish and Gaelic myths with a lot of love and originality thrown in. Very moving, very gay. I’d definitely recommend trying it out if any of that appeals to you.

But yeah, in the end it is Larut that takes the cake.

Fuck, the art of this game is gorgeous.

And not just the spritework, though that’s flawless on its own, but the whole presentation of the game, almost like reading an illustrated book of an old myth, the kind I used to read as a kid to give myself nightmares. Not to say that the game falls squarely in the horror category. It leans more psychological on that front, and there’s a good deal of intrigue and godly politicking going on that makes you want to know more.

Larut is a re-telling of the Indonesian myth of Nyi Roro Kidul, the godly Queen of the Southern Sea, a figure as enigmatic as she is regally charming, and who sees fit to take a young woman under her fins after she’s lost everything at the hand of her abusive family, making her into her lady-in-waiting. Said woman, Kandita, becomes grateful and infatuated with Nyi Noro Kidul in equal measures, to worrying degrees.

To what extent is this within the queen’s expectations, however, is not clear.

Despite being a re-telling of an already existing myth, the care and meticulous detail that went into every aspect of this game is easily on par with the best of myth adaptations. As I said before, I could see this being sold as an illustrated book in a library and I wouldn’t bat an eye. It’s clear the developers, artists and writers were not only on the same page, but knew exactly what they were doing, exactly what they wanted to make from this myth.

And they succeeded with flying colors. Do yourself a favor and give it a try; it’s not every day you get the chance to learn about mythology in such a beautiful way.

3 - “Quiero besarla hasta sentir dolor (I want to kiss her until it hurts.)”

(Or: So, how ‘bout that yuri?)

Accompanying song: Enamorada by Miranda.

Picking the best yuri out of the whole of the biggest Yuri Game Jam so far is as much of a tall order as I imagined, but at least the other four categories were able to take some games to themselves, because otherwise this would be impossible.

In terms of queer relationships, character dynamics and just the vibes of the yuri, there’s going to be a lot of room for debate. I’m not judging any of these in terms of real-life relationships. Nor am I trying to find the coolest, most interesting character dynamic; you could say this is a spot for something softer, a break from the intensity and trauma of the other categories.

It’s about girls kissing, is what I’m trying to communicate.

But it is also about vibes, about what game I enjoyed the most while being mostly invested in the main couple, if that makes sense. If not, sorry. I just want to talk about this specific handful of stories. First come the honorable mentions, though:

Gap Moe Mob Boss is exactly what it says on the tin; a harsh, commanding dog-girl mob boss comes back from prison to find another gang trying to encroach in her territory, and she must balance her role as a mafioso with her desire to spend all her time in the café where her bunny-girl crush works. It’s sweet, it’s nice to play and it has more research into organized crime than you’d think. Then there’s The Delicate Hearts of Sincerely Affectionate Girls, a hand-drawn and colored comic about someone coming to terms with her identity and the way in which she sees love, different from those around her. It’s hard to find good non-traditional romance, and this one is very realistic and sweet on top of that, so give it a try. Finally there’s Mechanical Relations, straight from the creator of my favorite entry for this year’s Menhera game jam; a short, adorable RPG about a robot girl and her girlfriend crashing into a scrap planet and having sex while waiting to be rescued. Simple, but effective.

The spot, though, ultimately goes to Signal Strength because I think it deserves the spotlight.

This is a videotome game about a small group of lesbians who work at an agricultural research station and a radio communications center in some far-off moon away from Earth, with little to do every day except talk to each other online or riding tractors. Ming, who works at the former, is bored out of her mind. With little else to do, she comes up with the idea of filming a home-made children’s show for her little sibling, using what little resources she and her friends can gather and roping them into acting and filming roles, including her ex and radio operator, who is very awkward around her.

Signal Strength might be the shortest of the games mentioned for this category, but there’s just something about it. It’s a simple game, but everything feels on point. The videotome aspect and vibes of the whole thing are immaculate; it feels as though you’re watching it all through a cheap video camera, and the ambient rural sounds are very well picked and utilized.

Though it’s the setting and how the characters react to that made me fall in love with it. It really feels like watching a group of young queer people stuck in a rural area who have to come up with their own entertainment, and there’s something so charming about it. Not to mention that the main relationship of the game is as realistically painful as these things usually are, especially when everyone knows each other where you live.

Also I thought the ending was very cute and appropriate.

It really is a nice, bite-sized gem of yuri, and that’s exactly what I wanted for this category, so go play Signal Strength. I doubt you’ll be disappointed.

2 - “I don’t actually have lyrics for this one.”

(Or: The best executed concept/well put together game).

Accompanying song: Fine, a small break from Argentinian rock. Go listen to the opening song for the 90’s anime adaptation of B’t X, it fucks.  

I wanted a category where I could talk about the games I thought worked well from front to end, the ones that had a concept and executed it perfectly or those that were really nicely crafted, though I’m not talking about production values.

Basically, the games where I didn’t have anything I would’ve personally fixed about it. The ones I looked at and thought ‘Yep, everything’s perfectly in place, what a tight narrative, it’s exactly what it needs to be’. Believe it or not, it’s hell to do that on purpose. 

And how wonderful that there were enough of these that I had trouble deciding, but also how stressful. These are the honorable mentions.

I feel bad I couldn’t give the spot to Monstrous Deep Blue, so you should go play it. The concept is simple; what if a tokusatsu episode but with sad trans girls who are terrible at expressing their emotions and being honest with each other? And it’s so well-executed. The story is exactly as long and as well-written as any of the best tokusatsu eps. and the spritework is adorable, not to mention the characters themselves. It’s a good one.

Then there’s Meat Girl! I loved this one. A short RPG about a girl who goes to the forest in search of her girlfriend who vanished months ago, but whom she couldn’t search for before because she was too numb and depressed. And in the meantime, it seems, said girlfriend has made friends with an angel who seems to want something from her. Also meat. Also mycelium networks. It’s short but quite punchy, definitely give it a try.

Anyway, I think the most impressive game of this jam is Bridgewater Deepwood Access Radio.

I would kill for Zinnia Braxton.

But anyway, this was the latest entry out of any of the ones in this list, but as soon as I finished playing I knew it deserved a mention. Even though it’s just a demo, it’s the game I enjoyed playing/reading the most, and I was really impressed all throughout by the care and polish that went into every little detail, big or insignificant.

Bridgewater Deepwood Access Radio is about a pair of lesbian coworkers who do a late-night paranormal radio show together, taking calls and listening to people’s supposed paranormal stories, injecting their own thoughts and theories in between. Reb is the romantic out of the romantic/detective dichotomy, maybe not fully buying every story but doing her best to let people be heard, while Zinnia is very much on the opposite camp, a stubborn and sometimes rude skeptic that can barely wait for people to finish telling their stories before shooting ten different holes into them.

The dynamic is really well-written, first of all. Skeptic/believer is a classic for a reason, one of my favorites, and adding Reb and Zinnia’s wildly different personalities and the way they’re both obviously into each other yet only one seems aware is very entertaining to read. Also they’re funny. This game is really funny, which is something that’s hard to do on purpose.

Then there’s the framing of the story. Though six (or more) are planned for the full release, the demo counts with four callers, each one with their own paranormal story to tell, each written and illustrated by a different person, to give the whole thing a bigger ‘anthology’ feel. And it’s hard to overstate just how much that helps the concept.

Though there were four of them, I couldn’t pick a favorite out of the callers/stories told in the demo. Each is unsettling in a very different way. Each draws you in as much as it does Reb and Zinnia, until the latter has a harder and harder time denying something weird is going on. Not to mention the music and the illustrations that every separate artist/composer provide adds to its own tale wonderfully.

Then there’s the honestly beautiful UI work. You look at the girls as though from behind a producer booth, complete with a multitude of buttons and switches and little doodads you can stim with while you experience each of the stories, each one with their own distinct and satisfying click-y sound. And it’s not just the outline. Every visual and audio touch to the UI transitions, to the main menu, even to the transitions of the scenes themselves is so polished and satisfying to experience.

I can’t imagine how much work from so many different people must’ve gone into this. A real team effort. And after playing it, I had to give it a topping spot on this list just on that alone, even if there’s many more reasons why I think it deserves it.

Not the least of which being that out of all the unfinished games on this jam, this is the one I want to see continued the most. I remain on the edge of my seat.

1 - “Pero no detendrán la primavera (But you won’t stop Spring from coming.)”

(Or: A shield of love and a spear of pure spite against the onslaught of fascism)

(Or: “You can’t all be posting on twitter, some of you fuckers gotta help your community”)

Accompanying song: Primavera by La Mancha de Rolando.

This might be the least populated, least complicated of the five categories, but it’s the one that matters to me the most. And while there are a handful of games that could fit here if I stretched the definition a little, there’s only one I feel really deserves both the mention and the spot, and I want to jump straight into it because I have a lot to say here.

She Was Swallowed by the Sun is my favorite game of this year’s Yuri Game Jam. Which doesn’t surprise me, as the people who made it, Snek (writer), Blood Machine (artist) and CØL (music) are also responsible for another one of my favorites from last year’s jam, and I am obsessed with everything they make together. 

Content Warnings: Bloody yet consensual sex scenes, state violence and sexual assault, unrelenting and suffocating fascism, gore, body horror and a lot more. Please read the game’s CWs written in the Main Menu and consider them before playing.

Previously I talked about how glad I was for the widening scope of this year’s crop of games in terms of themes and apparent inspirations, and while maybe running similar paths to some of those I mentioned, She Was Swallowed by the Sun veers in a completely different direction, in a good way. I’ll explain with a bit of a tangent before getting into the game proper:

Many of the transgressive fiction I’ve played on itch.io since developing an interest in OEVNs have done a very good job at depicting the realities of being queer, of being part of any minority while living under capitalism or fascism, probably far better than I could, and that’s part of what keeps me coming back to certain authors in the sphere. But there’s sometimes aspects of said games that fail to resonate with me fully. The… to put it unfairly, somewhat apathetic and individualistic view of one’s fate when living under these conditions does resonate, it’s true and raw and something I’m always happy to see, but there’s something about the flavor, the way it’s written that clashes with my own experiences having grown up where I have.

I guess it feels like it lacks some bite, compared to what I grew up reading? Which is no fault of the writing itself; not every story, not even this type, needs that kind of bite and I don’t want to imply that it makes those stories lesser in any way. I’m just describing the feeling of welcomed surprise that comes when you go to a restaurant in a foreign country and they make food exactly how you’re used to eating it back home. 

To put it bluntly, and not to toot my own horn but more that of those who came before me, our works of the same genre tend to skew more hopeful and defiant than the Anglo/Euro/American literature I’ve been catching up on these past few years. I guess having been the first Latin-American country to put its CIA-backed dictators to trial, and to force the man responsible for the death and disappearance of over 30.000 of our most vulnerable to die cold and alone in a cell, shitting himself to death, does give you a bit of an ego when it comes to standing up fascism. 

And right now, with those who would gladly follow in his footsteps, who would gladly throw our culture and history away and and gag on America’s cock currently in charge of our country, with our most vulnerable at risk again… Hopefully you can understand why I’d appreciate a game like She Was Swallowed by the Sun so much. A game about willing to put a bullet in your own head if it comes out the other end and goes into a fascist’s skull as well.

Anyway, enough about that. Watch Argentina 1985 if you wanna learn more, but now let’s get back to the game.

She Was Swallowed by the Sun stars One, a woman who was sent to prison for the supposed crime of trying to grow a Godseed, a dubious artifact that if fed by One’s body and the right amount of ‘shrines’ in specific locations, has the power to ‘call the sun’. To say more on that front would be spoilers. After spending a long time in prison, hiding the Godseed from the state within her own body, she returns to her old home where Anhedonia, her girlfriend and the one who’s been slipping her drugs that allowed her to halt the Godseed’s growth inside her, is waiting for her.

What follows is nearly 30k words of One and Anhedonia’s daily life as they continue their revolutionary work, using One’s body to feed the Godseed -which causes her indescribable pain- and putting in place all the necessary shrines for the day of reckoning, the only chance anyone might have to deal a fatal blow to the fascist state they live under.

And in the meantime, knowing full well that their deaths are swiftly approaching, One and Anhedonia live their lives. They cook stuff for each other, they go out on dates, they have bloody sex on multiple occasions and they hang out with their only friend now and then, being adorable gay dorks.

If that contrast sounds as interesting to you as it did to me, you might get why I love this game so much. Of course that balance can’t last forever. Of course things deteriorate. The Godseed continually feasts on One’s insides, sprouting eyes all over her that give her a near-divine cognizance that’s too much to bear, and the price she and Anhedonia have to pay in order to make it to the end is more than either of them can mentally or physically stand, and yet they do it anyway. To say more would, again, be spoilers, but the rounding third of the game is a series of scenes that feel like a knife is being twisted inside your gut continuously.

And yet One and Anhedonia never stop being cute, gay dorks in love with each other.

It’s not just the unfathomable acts of love they perform for each other, it’s not just the determination to die for their cause or the unfairness of it all. It’s the feeling that this is something that must have happened in the real world, multiple times.

She Was Swallowed by the Sun does not pull its punches. Its setting might have some fantastical elements, but the pain and oppressive hold of fascism are very real. And that, combined with the way the story itself is resolved, feels almost like a love story to those who have died maybe not for the righteous wish for a better tomorrow, but simply because they can’t live unless they push back.

The way self-sacrifice is shown in the game is refreshing. It’s often not a decision taken in the heat of the moment but a series of decisions taken deliberately over the course of months if not years. It’s sitting alongside the people you love and every day choosing to further a plan that you know will kill you, or them, or all of you, because you just have to. Those around you wouldn’t love you if you chose to do anything else.

And the way that is shown, brought to a boil and then a post-conflagration simmer deserves all the praise I can give. I love this shit. I love this game. If you can stomach the content warnings, I’d say give it a chance to make you love it too.

Closing thoughts

Hard to believe that a couple people working together to organize an event like this, plus all the support and encouragement from the other jammers in the Discord server, is all it takes to bring over a hundred yuri games into the world.

It boggles the mind to see a niche like this grow so much year after year, and it makes me very excited to see what 2025’s gonna bring on that front. Personally, I wouldn’t mind seeing some shonen yuri VNs. Nadia nova has done some good work there already, but there can always be more.

And again, big thanks to nadia and SabrinaTVBand for making this all possible and for moderating the community out of the goodness in their hearts. This jam means a lot to me, and a lot of people, and without it we wouldn’t have so many incredible games.

Until next year then, and do try to give these reccs a try. I’d bet you’re not gonna be disappointed.

[xshimaeraxx]

DISCLAIMER: I HAVE NOT PROPERLY READ THE LIL LUCIFER AU. I AM WORKING PURELY OFF OF WHAT CC HAS SHOWN US AND WHAT I’VE LEARNED AB GABRIEL’S CHARACTER WHILE DIGGING THRU BRIGHTGOAT’S VARIOUS BLOG(S) & SKIMMING LL. U’VE BEEN WARNED.

i feel like we dont acknowledge just how menacing the character of gabriel truly is. for all us purely cc viewers, we know next to nothing about him other then he’s one: quite obviously the Archangel Gabriel (also mugs you IDIOT how can you not see that PLEASE /silly), two: weirdly fixated on mugman & mugman alone (we have not seen him interact meaningfully with ANY OTHER MAIN CAST CHARACTER in cc other then mugman except for once when he introduced himself to cups), and three: he does not mean mugsy well.

now, ik some of y’all’re gonna argue with me on that last point, but i feel like it’s pretty clear?? he baited mugs with the encohian, he has this menacing/condescending look on his face a good 40-50% of the time (ALL WHILE AROUND MUGS, MAY I ADD) and i think it’s quite obvious he’s behind the statue(?) disappearing in the recent comics.

and remember, we don’t even know WHY he turned up in the first place. the obvious/easy answer is that he/the archangels/only-God-knows-who (quite literally) noticed that mugsy was getting too close to “going rogue” when it came to wanting immortality, but the thing is, that just seems too easy.

1: Mortals who want immortality/fear death enough to do something… rash are, i’d bet, practically a dime a dozen, ESPECIALLY in the isles where immortal beings (devil, all the other lords of hell, the calix animi, etc. etc.) are, if not exactly the norm, then at least vaguely known of; so i doubt that ANY of the archangels’d “waste” one minute on some random mortal or another going insane with their want for immortality (like mugman seems to be on the path of.)

2: now, one COULD make the point that due to the fact that cuphead & mugman are both a: the last descendants of the Calix Animi, and b: people who’ve been revived over 100 times makes them “special cases” in the eyes of the Heavens Above - but that begs the question of why didn’t the archangels/heaven/God stop the Calix Animi from reviving people? revival is a form of immortality, after all, even if an unreliable one, and if them wanting to STOP mortals from accessing immortality was the reason Gabe approached mugs, then the whole Calix Animi would likely not have ever even existed. so it’s that’s not the reason

3: pointing a big fat thumb back at my earlier point of “why did Gabriel even become AWARE of Mugsy’s immortality problem in the first place”, i propose this: something happened. something Big. something that we did not see. cc’s pulled the missing scene trick before, after all, with the Mortal Blues comic strip, and so i propose that cc is pulling that trick AGAIN and that Mugman did Something Big to trigger getting an archangel’s (potentially multiple) attention(s) on him. what the hell did Mugman do, i don’t actually know, and nor do i have any concrete guesses, but i’m betting he did something, and that THAT something is what got Gabriel to approach him.

anyways, all this to say is I Do Not Like Nor Trust Gabriel (and neither should you), and am very scared indeed for what Camodiel has planned for my bbg mugsy :cri:

[etherealising]

chapter eight | to see a friend, to see a ghost

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: a secret you’ve been keeping from carmen finally comes to light.

warning(s): grief | death | loss | substance abuse recovery | substance abuse | addiction | miscarriage described as a health scare | miscarriage described as being sick | suicidal thoughts | suicidal ideation | hurt | comfort | crying | make-up | rekindling an old friendship | mutual pining | denial of desires | maturity | mature decisions | carmy finally putting baby’s wellbeing before his own | unresolved romantic tension | re-learning your person | angst | suffering | self-deprecating talk | please let me know if i missed anything!

wc: 8.9k

song inspo: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 (highly recommend to add to the heartbreak!)

If it was any later and the sky was any darker, you might have been startled by the figure waiting on your porch. But as you approached, arms occupied with bags full of decorations, you recognized that patch color jacket, and the baseball cap not doing nearly enough to disguise his features.

Stopping before your steps you just looked at the person for a minute, the man was obviously zoned out if he hadn’t already been alerted to your presence from the sound of your car arriving and now the slap of your boots against the pavement.

When you left that voicemail earlier, you hadn’t expected Carmy to take immediate action, it wasn’t like him. You also didn’t expect him to show up unannounced but maybe you should’ve waited before sending your address in that group text.

You made your way up the steps, the jingling keys in your hand finally drew the man’s attention, and the speed at which he flew off the chair situated on your porch was almost comical. Your eyes darted to his, taking in what you could see of his figure that wasn’t hidden behind his jacket or hat. He held two paper bags in one hand and the package you had been expecting in the other, sure the delivery driver just left it with him.

The silence stretched between the two of you. You could see Carmen begin to fidget in your peripheral vision; good he deserved to be uncomfortable for a minute or two.

Finally unlocking the door you pushed through, pausing to take your shoes off. The man behind you hesitated, not sure if he should move forward to follow behind you or not. He took a minute before stepping forward, your eyes meeting his as you stood between his only entrance.

“I don’t remember inviting you in,” it was harsh, but it was also the truth.

He stopped for a moment, cheeks flushing pink as he cleared his throat, “Can I uh, is it okay if I come in?”

It would have been easy to deny him access, leave him out here on your porch, or even allow him to squirm more. But you could hear Pete’s words playing in your mind as you thought of all the petty things you wanted to do at that moment.

You let out an exasperated sigh the constant back and forth between the two of you was finally catching up. You nodded before heading to your living room to drop the bags off on the couch, the open door an invitation for the man on your porch. The bags were safely deposited on your couch as you moved to head into your kitchen, stopping short as you spotted Carmy still standing in your foyer.

A chuckle escaped your lips at the awkward man. You made your way to him, stopping in front of him and taking the package from his hand and the two grocery bags. “You can leave your shoes and jacket out here.” You left him standing alone in the foyer, confident he would find his way to you eventually.

Carmen watched as you disappeared further into your house, the man quickly shedding his shoes and accessories, stopping at the mirror by the coat rack to tame his messy hat hair. He felt like a teenager all over again, fussing over how he would present himself to you. Carmy moved in the direction you had gone in, steps slowing as he tried to take in everything he could about your abode, from the decorations to the colors swatched on your walls. It all reminded him of things he missed out on with you, would you have gushed to him about the prospect of owning a home? Would you have asked his opinion on design choices?

The two of you had once gone to each other for everything, and because he was afraid of being completely vulnerable to his feelings for you, he felt like a stranger on the outside looking in.

He found you in the kitchen, eyes locked on the bottle of wine in your hands he brought with him, “You uh…talked about how much you loved it back in New York so I-I thought it might be nice to have it again.”

Your index finger traced the label of the bottle in your hand, memories of that weekend flooding through you, but that’s just what they were; memories. It was the present day now and no matter the itch you felt to let the red wine warm your mouth, drink enough of it to dull your senses, you wouldn’t allow yourself to.

“What are we doing Carmen?” The bottle of red was gently placed on your island as you looked at the man standing in the space just between your kitchen and living room.

Seeing him in a space that had been wholly your own felt a little weird, you didn’t want to think about the times you imagined what it would’ve been like to share such a space with him as you watched him stand in your house like he was meant to be there; like he belonged.

“I got your voicemail,” you leaned your elbows on the counter propping your head up as you listened. “This is me accepting your olive branch, I just…wanna make things right between us..” The explanation pulled a sigh from your lips, fingers tracing patterns into the marble island beneath you. You left the voicemail with the assumption that it would take Carmen a bit to get back to you, he had never been adamant about fixing your relationship before.

“You also have something I need,” Carmen watched as you raised your eyebrows, eyes leaving the spot you were tracing.

“And what would that be?” The scar between your eyebrows felt tight as your face pulled into a frown, your brain wandering to figure out what you could possibly have that Carmen would need.

Carmen sent a small smile your way, “Let’s cook and we’ll talk about it after.” You watched as the man joined you on the opposite side of your island reaching to remove the rest of the food from their bags.

The genuine laugh that bubbled out of your chest filled Carmy with warmth, “Do you always walk into people's houses and try and negotiate?”

Carmy did his best to control the warm fluttery feeling in his chest, the weeks without you were hard and the fact that your laugh could ease his full body ache was enough for him to realize just how much he wanted you as a constant in his life. “I didn’t think I’d make it this far.”

A silence lapsed between the two of you as you helped unpack the rest of the food. This whole situation felt like a bad idea, you definitely weren’t over Carmen’s stunt or the previous incidents where he let you down. But you had been skating through this year on borrowed time, and the time apart helped to calm your anger, you felt like you were in a much more level headed place to finally figure out what the hell this thing was between the two of you. And Pete’s words at lunch helped to give you a new perspective on the whole situation.

“What the hell are we even making?” Baking was your preferred form of cooking, so as you looked at all the ingredients laid out it was a bit confusing to piece the meal together.

The sound of your voice warmed Carmen’s senses, the silky tone danced through his ears buzzing against his brain. “Chicken Marsala.”

You nodded, declining a glass of wine with dinner was one thing, but now looking at the new bottle of Marsala that would be in your meal, you’d have to decline the whole dinner.

“That sounds so fucking delicious but I…I actually can’t eat it.”

Carmen stopped his ministrations with the ingredients, “No you’re good I uh I didn’t get anything you’re allergic to.” His eyes darted across the ingredients double checking that he hadn’t bought any compromising ingredients.

“Thank you, Carm, your consideration is thoughtful.” The extra measure made your heart rate speed up.

It was crazy really how the same man standing in your kitchen swearing up and down he didn’t buy any foods you were allergic to, could also be the same man who came across as uncaring.

“I appreciate the effort I do but…” Your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest. How could you admit to your best friend, the person who once knew you most, that almost a year ago you were staring at blank hospital walls as some doctor explained to both you and Natalie just how close to death you were? “Carmy I-”

The hand resting on your elbow helped to calm your breathing, it wasn’t like you weren’t ready to admit your overdose to Carmy, you were just worried about the aftermath. “Baby hey, you with me?” You felt the hand skate down your arm, Carmy’s thumb soothingly caressing your pulse point.

You turned to face Carmen searching his eyes, doing your best to memorize the way he looked at you, unsure if you’d ever be graced with this intimate gaze again. “Carmen I…I’ve been sober for 7 months.”

The silence in your kitchen was loud, You needed Carmy to say something to you, yell at you, call you a hypocrite for blowing up on him all those weeks ago when you had been the one lying to him this whole time. It would be easier if the blank wide-eyed look on his face morphed into one of disgust, hatred, hell any emotion would’ve been welcome. “You fuckin’ with me right?” The apprehension in his voice was the result of not knowing if he could bear to hear the idea that something so heinous could plague you.

The wobble of your bottom lip was enough, Carmen’s eyes skated across your face landing on the three prominent features that had been added to your appearance; the tiny scar on your upper lip, the one between your brows, and the jagged raised one stretching the length of your jaw.

The breath in your throat hitched as his finger slowly traced the long scar, the touch sent shivers through you. Your eyes watched him as he watched you, finger deliberately taking in the pattern on your jaw, his hand unconsciously moved to cup your face in the way he liked, forefinger pressed into your hidden tattoo as his thumb began caressing the corner of your lips.

“What the fuck happened to you, Baby?”

The shower you just finished was much needed, Carmy volunteering to pick up different ingredients while you relaxed before the two of you began this search for the truth. He didn’t say it but you knew he needed some time to internalize the small piece of truth you told him, to rationalize just how much you had gone through in your time apart.

You could hear Carmen shuffling around in your kitchen as you stepped out of the bathroom, steam following you out. Grabbing your moisturizer you moved to sit on the edge of your bed, mind racing to figure out what you were even doing putting yourself in this situation.

These past three weeks without Carmen felt needed, you were thankful for the time apart to focus on yourself and your wellbeing. But it always felt like there was a piece of you missing, it felt like that every time the two of you parted ways. The difference was instead of spending the time apart worrying over Carmy every minute you had finally put yourself first, and began living for yourself just like Tina had advised all those years ago.

And while a part of you wanted to continue this childish charade of ignoring Carmy, only showing up at the restaurant when Richie assured you he wouldn’t be there; you couldn’t. It took too much energy to live your life around Carmen’s especially since the two of you were so much more involved with each other than you had been in a while. Even without Pete’s words of advice, you could see the toll it was taking on the people around you. Natalie was too scared to even mention her brother for fear you’d have a meltdown. Richie’s anger for your situation souring his relationship with Carmen. And Carmen himself, he who had become a haggard sunken-in version of himself, the time apart affected him the worst his patience nowhere to be seen from the few times Richie had offhandedly mentioned him in your presence.

The two of you had been in each other's lives for longer than you could remember and you didn’t want to lose that friendship over your pride. During your time away from Carmen, you had come to the decision that you would be fine if all that was fated to be between you two was a friendship.

More recently you had decided that maybe it was for the best, maybe the two of you were never meant for anything more, anything good. Maybe it was naive to think you deserved anything good with all the hurt your selfish choices caused. Maybe it was best not to take any time and attention away from your recovery. This friendship was just a whole bunch of fucking ‘maybes’ recently.

But one could say that ‘friendship’ went out the window when the two of you crossed that blurred line a year ago.

You paused as your hand reached for the old crew neck you’d usually sleep in, as much as you loved the garment you couldn’t allow yourself to give Carmen any false hope about what would come from this. Walking into your closet you quickly grabbed your oversized ‘The Beef’ crew neck, slipping it over your head before stepping into your sleep shorts and a pair of fuzzy socks.

Exiting your bedroom you stopped by your record player, buying yourself time before you’d have to face Carmen and all the truth that would be exposed in this one conversation alone. You flicked through your vinyl selection before picking your favorite one, needing something comforting for everything that was bound to transpire.

You entered your kitchen seeing Carmy’s back at your stove sent an ache through you. The man cooking in your kitchen was a vision you had more than once, it was almost right, the only thing missing was the small figure you imagined standing in a chair next to Carmy watching from over his shoulder.

“Smells delicious Carm,” you sent a tired smile his way as he looked over his shoulder at you, eyes falling just above his own, no courage left in you to take in the look he was giving you. “What did you end up cooking?” Carmen’s eyes were stuck to you, your words falling on deaf ears, you fidgeted in your spot, the insecurity of being judged by the one person you didn’t think you could handle it from, weighed heavy on you.

Carmen cleared his throat as he watched you sink into yourself. He hadn’t meant to make you feel any type of way with his stare, he was just having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that things had been so bad for you and he had no idea because of his selfish inclinations. “It’s uh Chicken Alfredo, I thought it was safest.”

The air in the kitchen was tense, neither of you knowing how to be around the other at this moment, and you hadn’t even gotten down to the harsh truth of everything yet. “Can you…uh what do you mean you’re sober? I-I know what it means jus-I,” you watched as Carmy closed his eyes, a huff escaping him as he couldn’t articulate what he wanted to say. “Baby, help me understand. Please?”

You could hear the thickness in Carmy’s voice, the two of you watching each other with matching glazed stares. You stood frozen for a minute, your fight or flight instincts kicking in and it took everything in you not to leave the conversation as it was. A sigh escaped you before you nodded your head and hopped to sit on the island, fingers picking at the stray threads on your shorts.

Carmy turned the fire on the stove down before turning to lean against the counter next to your stove, the two of you now facing each other. The distance between you felt like it stretched on for miles, and maybe it did, the two of you didn’t know each other like you once used to. You and Carmy weren’t the same teenagers who shared everything, even the smiles you shared at this point in life held a different meaning.

You never knew where to start this story, was it better to ease the person in, or was it better to just rip the band-aid off all at once? “Now that I’m better I don’t think any reason was good enough for what I did to myself…what I did to the people I love. But uh, Mikey’s death was definitely a catalyst for everything.” You looked up to see Carmy watching you intensely, arms crossed over his chest, you can’t remember a time you’d ever seen him look so serious.

“I was alone, and maybe that’s just an excuse. We…we just buried Mikey, and I was scared to believe he was really gone, it didn’t feel right. I didn’t want it to be true.” You sucked in a deep breath trying to gather your thoughts. “I stayed in Chicago for a long time after that, your mom…gosh she was a mess and I understood why her grief was valid, but I…I just knew Nat couldn’t, didn’t deserve to fix things alone, so I just kept extending my stay.” The small sigh Carmen breathed was lost as you settled more and more into your explanation.

“An-And Richie was doing his fucking best to keep The Beef open but I could tell it was taking a toll on him. Tiff had filed for divorce just months ago and then he was dealing with Mikey’s passing. And I think, I thought if I just helped everyone get better I wouldn’t need to grieve, because I was surrounded by all the people I loved, and their wellbeing mattered most to me.” Carmen’s eyes stayed on your figure allowing your words to settle into him, it hurt knowing how much slack you had to pick up because he couldn’t bring himself to face the music.

Quiet sniffles came from where you sat atop the island. “Carm, you weren’t there…and I promise I’m not blaming you for the decisions I made, none of that is on you. But I just wanted my best friend, and I just needed to know you were okay. And when you weren’t at the funeral my mind went to the worst thoughts first. But then I…I just showed up in New York and you acted like your world wasn’t ending and then I just felt selfish because how was it that your brother just died and I was the one acting like I’d lost the person I looked up to most.” Carmy could feel his chest tighten, your words becoming less and less easy to swallow the more you spoke.

“And for a moment it was like the world stopped screaming like all I needed was your presence to assure me that everything would be okay,” a small sad smile rose to your lips as you thought about your time spent with Carmy in New York. “It-it was blissful and everything I wanted but I knew it was ending, we both knew it was ending you didn’t see a future with me.” You had to stop yourself, a sob sure to be ripped out if you didn’t give yourself a minute, “And I accepted your decision, it was for the best.”

You hugged your knees to your chest, barely beginning to scratch the surface of the worst of what you’d done. The new position provided you the comfort and protection you felt you needed. “I got back to Chicago, and I was only supposed to be here for a few more weeks but then…then I-I got sick and Rich-.” You clasped your hands over your mouth unsure if you could lay all your indiscretions on Carmy at once, unsure if you could mentally handle the toll the two confessions you desperately needed to make would take on you.

Rough palms enclosed your cheeks, moving your head so that you were face to face with Carmy. You could see the unshed tears in his doe-blue eyes, but other than that he didn’t seem to be affected. “Take your time, yeah?” He nodded his head waiting for you to nod along with him so you knew it was okay. The left side of his lips ticked up in a half smile, you let him lean in and place a delicate kiss on your forehead before he moved out of your space. “I’m here okay, I’ll listen for as long as you let me.”

Carmen was making this harder than it needed to be, how could you justify telling him one secret and not the other when he was being so understanding? Carmy made to move back to his original position, your grip on his hand stopping him, a quiet sigh escaping his lips at how fragile you looked. “Lemme turn off the stove okay?” You reluctantly let go of his hand, scared that at the loss of contact, he would take his chance to flee from you.

You watched as he turned the stove off, moving the food he had been cooking to the back burners, you felt bad that he had cooked for the two of you and neither of you would be enjoying it. He moved around the kitchen fear spiking in you as you thought for sure he was going to leave, to wipe his hands of you. He returned to you with a glass of water that he delicately placed in your hands before replacing your legs to their original position and taking his spot between them. Carmy’s finger tapped the glass in your hands “Drink up.” A small nod was your only response as you did as told you before setting the glass down beside you.

Carmy returned his hand to your grasp nodding to let you know he was ready to continue if you were, you took one last deep breath mind made up on how you would handle the rest of this conversation. “He uh Richie, he found me in the walk-in. You know that moment when you know something is wrong but you don’t know how you know. It was kind of like that, like Richie and I both knew I had done something wrong and Carmy,” your voice quivered as your eyes met his, the tears falling at a faster pace as he looked at you so earnestly, hanging onto every word you said. “I’m so sorry.”

Carmen’s brows furrowed, eyes widening as you collapsed against him incoherent apologies addressed to him spewing from your lips. His head came to rest atop of yours as you shoved your face into his chest your words turned to messy babbling as you tried to choke out words through your sobs. For all his social ineptitude Carmy knew there was something you weren’t telling him, something you weren’t being entirely honest about, and he wasn’t sure how it tied into your sobriety. But the way you were apologizing to him made him feel like he was partly responsible.

Your cries were beginning to grow in volume and Carmy was at a loss for what to do. He’d seen you cry before, hell he’d caused most of it but he couldn’t recognize you at this moment. The sobs that escaped you were echoing through the quietude of your house, you had never been an audible crier, usually a few tears escaping your eyes were the most Carmen had gotten. But these cries wracked your entire body, Carmy could feel them rattling his rib cage each sob breaking his exterior down more and more.

He wrapped his arms around you letting your tears soak his shirt, his tears beginning to run down his cheeks. The grip he had on you tightened ever so slightly as you sobbed your throat raw. Carmen needed to know what could’ve caused this reaction, he needed to know what you could ever have to apologize to him for. He felt you moving to get out of his grip, but he held you there as his tears dripped into the crown of your head, quickly wiping his eyes before he pulled back from you allowing you a fresh breath of oxygen.

“Carmy?” Your voice was scratchy as you played with his fingers avoiding any form of eye contact, you raised his knuckles to your lips kissing the ‘ou’ on his middle and ring finger. “Could you hold me for a little bit?” You raised your head to Carmy’s doing your best to send him a reassuring smile, to let him know everything would be okay.

Carmen frowned, he knew that smile anywhere. Even when you were so obviously going through something he couldn’t quite yet understand you would put his feelings before your own. He let out an exasperated sigh your need to put others well being before your own a habit he swore to himself he’d break.

The hand you kissed raised to your face, a light grip on your chin as his thumb caressed the space beneath your lower lip. Carmy leaned forward placing a soft lingering kiss on the scar between your eyebrows, “Let’s take a break yeah?” Carmy watched your body deflate.

He took a step back as you hopped off of the island, the two of you moving to your L-shaped couch. Carmy laid down opening his arms to hold you like the two of you had done hundreds of times while growing up. He knew the gesture would pull a smile out of you, a soft chuckle leaving him as you easily snuggled into him. Your face reverting to its home in his chest, his chin once again resting against the top of your head.

The light atmosphere was short-lived as you relaxed into Carmy, all of your words finally beginning to sink into him. He was happy for the intermission the time would help him to understand what you had told him thus far, to figure out how he could ever make up for the way he constantly held the door open and let you walk out of his life. The way he essentially cut you out of his life because he was afraid to admit to himself that what he felt for you for all these years wasn’t just lust and longing, but love.

Carmy’s fingers had been gently rubbing your scalp for the past forty-five minutes, the position the two of you were in reminiscent of a scene from New York when you visited. Now it was being translated in your own home, Carmy was laying on the couch one arm settled behind his head to prop it up, looking down on you to make sure you were okay. You were settled between his legs, your upper body pressed into his stomach as your head rested on his sternum.

“Baby?” Carmy did his best to whisper, not wanting to disturb you in case you had fallen asleep.

“Hmm?” Your response was so quiet it was easy to miss, Carmy was unsure if you had let out a quiet hum or if you were making noises in your sleep.

He stopped his ministrations on your scalp, his lips ticking up at the soft whine you let out “You asleep?” The question was followed by his fingertips resuming their massage.

“No, your heartbeat is just soothing.” You snuggled your face deeper into Carmen’s stomach, the movement raising goosebumps on his exposed arms. “Carm?” Your quiet voice drew his attention the apprehension clear on his features as he prepared himself for the words soon to leave your mouth. “There’s something that I need to tell you…something that you deserve to know. B-but I don’t think I can do it tonight. And I know that’s not fair to you but I think for my own sake I need to be in a better space mentally.” You shuffled around again turning to lie facedown, one of your cheeks rested against Carmy’s stomach so you could comfortably look up at him.

The confusion in his eyes was evident, whatever it was you couldn’t tell him was making him beyond nervous. It was hard because you had never kept a secret from him unless you absolutely needed to, and when you did it was never for anything more serious than a gift you were getting for him. But he knew he couldn’t force whatever truth you had to tell out of you, a part of him felt a bit relaxed, not knowing how much bad news he could take in the span of one night.

Carmy’s hand reached out palming the side of your face, thumb grazing back and forth in the space just beneath your eye, “You can share it with me when you’re ready m’kay? I’ll wait as long as you need me to.” He pushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear, watching as your eyes closed, a slight grimace on your face as you leaned into his palm more.

“You’re going to hate me, Carmen.” The words left your mouth with so much conviction all Carmy could do was frown, the idea of ever hating you would have never crossed his mind. He wanted to reassure you but lost his chance as you abruptly sat up, the movement caused him to sit up as well, the two of you only inches apart now facing each other. You forced a smile as your side relaxed on the couch, head propped against it as your eyes wandered around Carmy’s features. “Let’s just get through tonight and then we’ll worry about everything else.” You were exhausted. Carmy could tell by the way your blinking slowed, he wanted you to stop, to get some sleep, to put your needs before whatever made you feel like you owed him any explanation.

“Bab-,”

“I was in the hospital for a bit because I…I was sick. But after they discharged me I had been gone from my own life for so long I was so close to not having anything to return to. So I came home and forced the past month into a literal box in my closet, pretended none of it happened.” You were running on fumes at this point, with no regard for whether Carmy was even still listening to you, just this force within you driving you to finish the story.

“There was uh one thing that I couldn’t force myself to get rid of-,”

“The voicemail.” Your eyes shot to Carmy's, his silence easily making you forget he was even still here, that you were recounting these memories for a reason. You nodded eyes unfocused as you looked past him, would there ever be a time you could remember that part of your life without flinching every time you thought about it?

“It started slow, I was just getting back into the swing of things remembering what it was like to be alone after being in Chicago surrounded by people who actually cared about me. I would go out with my co-workers after a shift, drink just enough that I could get myself home, but not enough for anyone to worry about me.” A sardonic laugh left your lips, you were sure nobody would care about you, and you hardly had any strong ties to the West Coast.

“It helped…until it didn’t until I was drinking so much it was almost like my body was immune to the effects. But who needs their liver am I right?” The pinch to your thigh jolted you. Carmy wasn’t welcoming your self-deprecating jokes.

You raised your hands in defense, a humorless chuckle leaving you. “If I’m being honest, I don’t even remember getting that first prescription…not even the ones after it.”

“Wait,” Carmy moved so his feet were firmly planted on the floor, legs spread as he rested his elbows on his thighs. “What the fuck does a prescription have to do with this? Baby?” Carmy wasn’t stupid, he didn’t need you to spell it out for him but the sliver of hope in him was dwindling as the minutes of silence continued to tick by.

You shrugged, moving to sit crisscross applesauce staring blankly at Carmy’s side profile, one of his legs bouncing up and down. “You know they really should make those warnings bigger. About not mixing drugs and alcohol, the font is so tiny how cou-,”

“Stop!” You didn’t even flinch at the loud volume of Carmy’s voice, eyes following his figure as he flew up from the couch. The man was now pacing in front of you, one hand settled on his hip as the other furiously swiped across his forehead. “Why do you…do you…fuck!” The vein on his neck protruded with his frustration. “How do you just sit there and make fucking jokes about this shit Baby! Why the fuck is any of this funny to you?”

The urge to defend yourself was surging through you, in a way you knew Carmy’s reaction was valid. But it wasn’t like there was a handbook on the proper way to deal with your trauma, and you wouldn’t allow him to tell you right from wrong.

“What the fuck do you want from me, Carmen! I did it okay! I drank and I took the fucking drugs and when that shit stopped working on its own I thought hmm why the fuck not mix them because what the fuck could possibly be worse than living. In some fucked up way did I think it would help me understand Mikey? Maybe. It’s not like I fucking planned this shit! I didn’t plan to become addicted okay, that wasn’t supposed to happen I had a system…I had a fucking system.” It was like everything was becoming clearer the moment those last words left your mouth, you may not have planned the beginning, but as you thought back to what could’ve been your last moments you were almost certain some still sane part of you knew what you were doing.

Soft laughter left your lips as the pieces were starting to fit together in your head, the sound only growing in volume as you realized just how fucked up you were. Your eyes were unfocused as your gaze flew to Carmy, the whisper of ‘Baby’ lost in your internal revelation.

“I threw myself through that glass door, not on purpose I can’t even remember why the fuck I wanted to get outside so bad. But I-I remember swallowing those two extra pills and thinking what the fucks gonna happen to me huh, I’ve lasted this long.” Carmen couldn’t recognize you, the tears had started again but he was certain you couldn’t even tell, you looked possessed, your eyes flashing all around the room a wicked smile painted your lips as you spoke to no one in particular.

“Barely made it past the threshold before my body gave out, I wish I could remember, even if only for a second. What it felt like to have your body want something more than your brain did. But you know what the fuck happened Carmen?” Your eyes finally shot to his, you looked like a skittish animal ready to fight Carmy to the death if he encroached on your territory.

A sardonic laugh left your lips, your tongue swiping across them, the saltiness of your tears a shock to you. “I woke up and there Natalie was, right beside me. And you know my first thought wasn’t what happened to me or-or what the hell is Nat even doing here? I didn’t even pay her any attention the whole first two hours, and you wanna know what I was thinking Carmen?”

“Don’t.” The plea escaped his lips in a whisper your heart clenched at how desolate he looked.

“I laid in that hospital bed, and I looked at those stupid fucking fluorescent lights and I thought; Mikey got it right the first time, why couldn’t I.”

Carmen felt numb, like his whole body had been submerged in an ice bath and no matter how hard he fought to get out, it was like his body and mind were on two different wavelengths. He’d seen that stare before, in the eyes of his brother, the same way Mikey looked at Lee at Christmas dinner all those years ago was the same way you were looking at him now in your living room.

He wasn’t sure if there was a proper reaction to the truth you had just dropped. Mikey was dead, that made things easier, but here you were alive and well from what he could tell and he would have his time to mend things with you if that’s what he wanted. But he wasn’t sure he could stand in such proximity as you at that moment, wasn’t sure if he could even look at you. You had been the second closest person to Mikey, presumably knew he was doing drugs, knew he was spiraling out of control, and followed right after him.

Was there anything Carmy could have done to alter your path? Maybe if he had stayed by your side that night after Christmas you wouldn’t be standing here now talking to him about how badly you wanted to end it all.

Carmy drew in a sharp breath a small sob following it as he tried to control his emotions, he began taking small steps in your direction not sure of what he was going to do, but needing you to know his silence wasn’t because he was disgusted or disappointed in you; but in himself. How easy it would’ve been to keep in contact with you after high school graduation, how easy it would’ve been to just let himself love you and take care of you, be there for you. And as much as he wanted to believe you knowing how he felt would’ve changed much, he knew it was naïve, addiction was an illness and even if Carmen had fought harder to keep you in his life there’s no promise that he wouldn’t have been the one to find you floating in the space between life and death.

He slowly reached out to you, hands carefully grasping your cheeks in his eyes, committing your face to memory, mind racing with all the times he took being able to see it daily for granted. “Ba-baby, tell me you don’t mean that,” he waited, eyes rapidly flicking back and forth from yours. His grip on your face was just loose enough for you to send him the saddest smile he’d ever had the chance to see, “Please?” The broken whisper floated between the two of you before your head softly nodded up and down to confirm that indeed he was almost forced to live without you.

And this time it wasn’t his choice.

Carmy sat on the floor in front of your couch, back resting against it, head tipped back to rest on the cushion face pointed toward the ceiling. All he could hear were the soft breaths escaping you and his thudding heart in his ears. It took a while before you had finally calmed down, Carmy held you in his arms on the floor as the two of you cried. Your sounds lashing against his heart over and over again. He was exhausted, more than he usually was, the night far from what he hoped it would be. He was so overwhelmed by all that you had been willing to reveal to him, that the instinct to do something with his hands as you slept took over, the man dutifully cleaned your kitchen and stored the uneaten food away for you to eat at a later date.

And now here he was, back at your side finally coming to terms with everything he learned. Carmy felt like a fool he had prided himself on his friendship with you, always made it a big deal that you were his friend first, his friend by choice. But it had been almost 10 years since he decided to shut you out of his life with no reason, no explanation why and it was selfish of him. Selfish that he had so blindly pushed you away without a thought to how it would make you feel. Selfish of him to always expect your acceptance and open arms when it was convenient for him to re-enter your life.

He let out a small sigh raising his head from its position on the couch, eyes latching onto the dated picture atop your mantle, your cheesy smile staring back at him as Richie and Mikey surrounded you. His eyes poured over the picture, taking in how happy the three of you looked, and how simple everything was when the two of you were teenagers. A quiet humorless laugh escaped his lips as he reminisced, he was lying to himself if he thought your time as teens was simple, but compared to the lives the two of you were leading it sure as hell did feel that way.

Carmy allowed himself a moment longer to enjoy the happiness the picture exuded. He gave it one last glance before he adjusted his position on the floor, turning slightly so his side was leaned into the couch, eyes landing on your face as you slept. It felt like his heart was constantly breaking whenever he looked at your face, it was evident you’d been crying, the puffiness of your eyes easily giving it away. He reached his hand out, hesitating for just a second before he pushed the hair out of your face palm resting on your cheek as he began to softly stroke in back and forth. Since the first time he saw you this year, this was the most peaceful you had looked, he was glad that sleep had been able to bring you that sense of tranquility, but he wanted that for you always, to feel at peace on any given day and as he watched you back moving up and down to signify the breaths your were taking, he promised himself he’d provide that for you; even if it was only as friends.

“What am I gonna do with you, Baby?” The hoarse words left him in a sigh, a small smile making its way to his lips as he watched your nose scrunch up at the sound of his voice, eyelids slightly twitching.

He watched as you turned to lay on your side, lips brushing across his pulse point a small kiss now decorated his veins. “Still be my best friend?” Carmy laughed at your small voice taking up the space between the two of you. Your eyes slowly fluttered open, thankful that Carmy had figured out how to dim the lights in your living room. “Do you remember that promise we made the summer before seventh grade?” Your voice was scratchy from all the sobbing and borderline screaming from earlier.

Carmen nodded his head, a small smile raised on his lips, hand moving from your cheek to cup the back of your neck. “Of course, I do,” the smile only lasted for so long as he was forced to remember a promise he broke with no regard. “That we’d be best friends no matter what, even though we didn’t want each other’s cooties.” Carmy was happy to hear the sound of your melodious laughter, he spent so much time listening to your broken cries he was afraid he’d never know anything else.

“I’m sorry Carmen, I…I didn’t mean to blow up on you. I think telling you about my overdose…it helped me come to terms with it myself.” Your eyes were lidded, all the crying made them feel heavy, if Carmy wasn’t here in front of you right now you were sure you would’ve been dead asleep.

A small content sigh escaped you as Carmy’s thumb ran back and forth across the side of your neck, “You have nothing to apologize for we-I know I haven’t been a great friend to you these past years. And for that I’m sorry. I wish…I wish I could explain to you why I pushed you away but Baby,” Carmy paused heart thudding in his chest, the words were there, maybe not in the way one would expect but it was you; you would know what he meant even if he was speaking in another language.

“I uh I can’t even explain it to myself. But..I would like for us to be friends again if you’ll have me?” Carmy sent a tight-lipped smile your way, he couldn’t do it. He felt selfish for even thinking now was the time to propose the initial idea in his mind. Maybe it was an excuse, maybe not, but he didn’t think it would be fair to put you in that position. You had just told him such a harrowing truth about yourself and if his first instinct after hearing such was to ask to be more than friends it would feel insincere. Carmy wasn’t even sure you would want a relationship with him, you were sober, and recovering and Carmy wouldn’t allow himself to mess that up for you with his presence having been such a soul-sucking and negative thing in your life these past few years.

“I think that’s just what I need right now…a friend.” It was silent for a moment between the two of you, Carmy had prepared himself for the worst on the drive over, and although he could feel a lump forming in his throat and the ache in his chest, he forced a small smile on his lips upon hearing your words. “You kept it on there?” His eyes found yours confusion marring both of your features, at his silence your hand reached out delicately tracing the pendant settled against his signature white shirt.

Of all the times you’d seen Carmy you knew he still wore his chain, it was a part of him. You had caught glimpses of the gold peeking out from his shirt, but you would have never thought he wore the pendant you’d impulsively bought before leaving New York. You remember regretting having left the newly added accessory on his chain when you left his apartment, sure it made you seem like some desperate lover who had never even actually been a lover, just some girl too naive to see all the signs she was being given.

Your eyes flicked between Carmy’s waiting for his response, his cheeks tinting pink the longer you looked at him for an answer. The hand that wasn’t settled against your skin reached up to rub at the back of his neck. “I nev-I… uh never leave home without it.” The admission made your skin tingle, Carmy’s finger subconsciously tracing the lone letter you carried everywhere with you. “It uh, reminds me of you…of us.”

“There were forget-me-nots in the bouquet Willie made me,” you sent Carmy a small smile, although temporary, the sight of that bouquet filled you with happiness the short time you did spend with it. “Also I know you didn’t have shit to do with the flowers Willie put in that bouquet.” Carmy let out a small laugh face warming at the memory of old man Willie’s meddling.

Your thumb on the pendant began tracing the engraved letter, “This was like my form of a forget me not, something that was permanent, would never wilt with time…I just wanted you to have something to remember me by.” Carmen watched your lips stretch into a small smile, he knew what your words meant, but after learning about all you’d gone through it felt like your final words had a double meaning like if things had gone as you wished them to, this would be the only piece he had left of you.

A part of you felt shy sharing the reasoning behind gifting Carmy the pendant, the two of you were barely friends as it was and the flowers had been so personal to you, that you weren’t sure you wanted to let Carmy into that piece of your world even though he played a huge part in it without even knowing.

“Is that what they signify? Remembrance?” Carmen’s thumb ran back and forth across the scar on your jaw, tapping it twice to pull your attention to his.

You gave the pendant one last longing look, dropping it before your eyes finally locked on his, “Something like that.” You shrugged having to swallow the urge to confide in Carmen one last time tonight.

The two of you stayed like that with Carmy’s hand holding onto the side of your face, thumb trying to imprint the jaggedness of your scar to its memory. Your eyes became heavier the longer Carmy delicately stroked your face. The man made no move to wake you as you slowly began drifting back into the world of dreams, the same look of peacefulness he saw earlier had easily returned, the ghost of your past so evidently marked into your skin in the shape of your scars. He felt like he was able to finally release the breath he’d been holding in, his eyes skated across your face; a face he always considered to be a work of art, one he could never perfectly capture on paper.

As he watched you sleep Carmen came to terms with exactly what was left between the two of you now. For all intents and purposes the two of you were friends again, or at least on friendly terms, and as much as he tried to convince himself he would be happy to keep you in his life in whatever capacity you allowed; he knew that was a lie. But the only person he could really lay blame on was himself, you had been ready and waiting for him before he even realized he loved you and now that he was finally ready to take that next step with you there was no longer space in your heart for him.

Carmen watched you for a moment longer, thumb lingering against your scar before he finally had enough restraint to pull himself away. There was a part of him that would’ve stayed planted in that spot all night just to watch over you, make sure the moment he turned his back you wouldn’t suddenly disappear never to be gazed upon by him again. He quietly stood up, careful not to make too much noise and wake you, hand grabbing the blanket lying atop the head of your couch before he gently draped it across you.

He lingered in front of you every fiber in his body, willing him to stay there by your side, to be there when you woke up. But moments like that were no longer his to take; they never had been. Carmy let out a sorrowful sigh before he bent down to your level placing a soft kiss full of love and longing to the indentation between your eyebrows. What could have been, what never was would always stick with him but he would set his wants and needs to the side, and he would appreciate having another moment with you still in his life.

The two of you had seemed to come to an understanding now, and that’s all he could ask for. You said you needed a friend and that’s what he’d be; your needs were his needs.

a/n: in honor of turning twenty-three i present thee with the gift of suffering 🤪, anyway not sure how i feel about this chapter but we shall see. also i know it seems like everything between baby and carmy may have been resolved rather quick, but i feel like everything is very not obviously resolved. happy readings! 🤍

also: huge shoutout to @mr-robot-x for her impeccable song recs when it comes to this fic and the losers i write about. asleep by the smith’s heavily inspired this chapter. (which you would all know if you took my song inspo seriously 😐) just kidding but seriously it genuinely helped me get through this chapter! 🤍

[pink-onyx-au]

Happy 5k!! A huge milestone!! Thank you all so much!

I wanted to mark the event with a new wallpaper but the one I had ready for 5k won’t be able to be shown until episode 11 is nearly complete due to spoilers. This story is growing faster than anticipated! So I’m going to give everyone a bonus thing to celebrate!

Thank you also to all of you who joined recently, especially those who were apart of a Blaze campaign I did out of curiosity. All of the likes and reblogs has brought about new people to come try the story out. Thank you for your support! You may see future Blaze campaigns for Episode 1’s hub post prior to other releases or big events. So, if you have come here because you spotted it in the wild, welcome!

In other news: comic translations? Curious to know what you thinks! I have a friend working on a translation for fun and while working on that I’ve become curious about what people would think about increasing language accessibility to the comic. I speak some Spanish, so that is likely to be among the first. Any others? Let me know!

English Transcripts will also be offered to the original posts coming soon. At the end of the day, I would like to at least get it so that people can Google Translate at the very least. Originals will be updated as time goes on. (Should have done that from the start but when you are doing a project for funsies I admit you don’t think of these things)

Here from YouTube? Welcome! All of you supporting the dub done by @the-real-phoenix-prime have been such an exciting new avenue for Onyx to meet new people.

Just checking in to say love you all! See you in a few weeks for Episode 11! 🧡💕 ❤️

[cripplecharacters]

Hello, I have a question. In one of my projects, set in a vaguely 1600s fantasy pirate setting, one of my characters starts out as a burn survivor, with a large burn on her cheek.

She wears a scarf initially to protect the burn from the salt air as well as some self esteem issues, however I don’t want to fall into the masked burn survivor trope, or have a self-hating disabled character.

If it helps, over the course of the story she gets access to hydrating salves and stops needing the scarf as she grows to accept her facial difference.

Thank you for your time, and for all the help you give to us!

Hey!

I think protecting a burn scar from salt is smart. It also could help with the sun-related issues. However, the scarf should be of an appropriate material - a rough texture would only irritate and scratch it, which causes even more problems. If you mention that, or show the process of her choosing something that works for her from that angle, I think it would be much more of a "medical device" and less of a "hiding disability".

It's important to discuss why she has the self-esteem issues. Don't make it into a "duh, obviously someone with a facial difference would have low self-esteem, just look at them" which I constantly see.

Was she bullied or harassed over being disabled?

Is she traumatized from experiencing abuse or aggression? Does she fear that being visibly disabled will make her a target for violence again?

Was there a particular person who made her feel that way, like a parent or a "friend" that influenced her view of herself?

Was society around her lacking examples of happy burn survivors, so she assumed that she can't be happy either?

Make it clear why she feels that way, and don't make the narrative frame her facial difference as the root problem. The problem should be the thing that caused her to feel insecure. It's the same as the fact that mobility aids aren't a problem, inaccessibility is - at least that's how I look at it as someone who has an FD and uses a mobility aid.

This is by no means disability-specific, but look out for tragedy porn. Even if she has had bad experiences, I guarantee you that she had happy ones as well. In her case, maybe she met the funniest girl ever at the 1600s fantasy pirate burn unit, maybe the doctor who treated her helped her discover a new hobby while she was stuck in bed. Her backstory shouldn't boil down to "happy (abled) life, then the Accident, then horrible (disabled) life". That'd be a very hurtful message to send.

I do appreciate that she gets character development around her facial difference. I will say that this internal change often comes from seeing other disabled people thrive, being proud, shown as beautiful and valuable, etc. Representation is important in stories, even in-universe. This was certainly the case for me, and is the reason why now I'm so loud about including happy and positive people with facial differences everywhere. This stuff doesn't exist in a vacuum, you're affecting how people see themselves. It also leads me to my last, probably comically predictable point, which is...

Add more burn survivors, or at least characters with other facial differences, into the story. Preferably ones that have the low self-esteem either far behind them or haven't struggled with it in general (we exist). They don't have to be major characters but even just mentioned; e.g. your character thinking about other survivors she met in the place that treated her burns, or her seeing people with visible facial differences out and about and it making her think about why she even hides hers, etc. In short - don't make shame seem like the default reaction to having a facial difference, because it isn't.

I hope this helps,

mod Sasza