#i think i looked up vague reference for the dress and then said fuck it

[turcott3]

after dark

luca fantilli x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, protected sex, oral m receiving, kissing, fluff

masterlist

-

you saw your best friend disappear up the stairs as you sat in luca’s lap on the couch. you were proud that she finally grew the balls to talk to mark, let alone fuck him. you shifted in his lap to a more comfortable positions, his arms wrapping around you snuggly as he pressed a light kiss to your shoulder.

you and luca had never shown this much affection in front of so many people. it had been a couple months but you weren’t together, or at least weren’t officially together, but this seemed to be a hint at him wanting more. just like you had been dreaming about for the last few weeks. you were becoming less friend-like and more girlfriend-like.

“baby, do you wanna go somewhere?” he whispers in your ear over the loud music, his thumb rubbing back and forth on your thigh.

“where?”

“you wanna go find that place mark told us about?” he replies smirking and you nod quickly. if there was anything you loved about him, it was how good he made you feel when he fucked you, and you couldn’t wait to add the potential risk of getting caught onto that.

you stood up off his lap, intertwining your fingers as he guided you out the doors into the crisp air of ann arbor.

“he said it was off in the woods.” he replies, his grip on your hand tightening a comfortable amount.

“oh yeah, that’s not terrifying at all.”

“nope.” he giggles in reply, opening his car door for you. he pulled up vaguely directions, arriving to a random empty home, placed conveniently next to a blocked off trail.

“think we found it?” you giggle as he turns the car off.

“i’d say we did.” he replies as he grabs a blanket from his backseat before you both exit the car. you meet him at the front of the car, quickly grabbing onto his hand, the full moon dimly lighting the area enough to see each other clearly.

“it shouldn’t be too far back here.” he states, in a tone you can’t quite place.

“man i hope so. im getting cold.”

“you won’t be cold for long, don’t worry.” he replies, you could hear the smirk on his face as the words rolled off his tongue.

“oh okay.” you reply briefly, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. after a few short minutes, you finally approached the large abandoned outdoor theater.

“wow.” you say, taking in the scene. it was a lot bigger than you thought it would be, wondering why you had never heard of it ever existing. luca moves ahead of you, up a couple of rows of bleachers.

“HA nice.” he laughs.

“what?” you reply, your head snapping up toward the brunette.

“mark ditched a condom here.” he continues as you meet him, looking at the used latex on the ground.

“wow he really did.” you giggle.

“doesn’t shock me, he’s a bit careless sometimes.”

“speaking of, you brought one right?” you ask as he pulls you to him.

“of course i did, i know that’s important to you, so it’s important to me too.” he says leaning down to press a kiss to your lips as your heart fluttered. you take the blanket from his hands, covering the cold metal bleachers with it.

“i don’t know how to do this.” you giggle, not even knowing where to begin with such limited space.

“just relax, i got you baby.” he smiles giggling lightly, attaching your lips, tugging your unzipped jacket off of you. you knew you would end up here with him at some point, so you tended to wear short skirts and dresses to parties, not knowing which day he would’ve selected. it gave him easy access.

“i dressed just for you.” you smile as he gets a look at your outfit. the way his eyes scanned your body soaked your lace panties in an instant.

“fucking god.” he mutters.

“i can lose the top if you want.” you say, referring to the top that rested your tits perfectly.

“oh we’re getting there don’t worry. come here pretty girl.” he says sitting down on the blanket, beckoning you over to him. you climbed into his lap, straddling his hips as you reconnected your lips. his hand slipped under you, grazing your soaked core.

“so wet for me huh?” he says and you nod, “we can get right to it then, you make it so easy for me.”

he says locking eyes with your lust filled ones. you tossed your jacket to the ground, getting down onto your knees. you took the packaged condom out of his hand, carefully tearing it open with your teeth, not once losing eye contact. you unzipped his pants, pulling his throbbing cock out of his pants stroking him a few times.

“christ.” he grunts, looking up at the sky, “been waiting all night for this.”

“me too.” you smile, spitting on his leaking tip, taking him quickly into your mouth. you used your free hand to help you push him along, gagging on his thick cock a moment before pulling him out and jerking him off, pulling the condom out of the package. quickly you rolled the latex onto him, pressing a short kiss to his tip before standing up off your knees. he reaches out, wrapping a hand behind your neck, pulling your lips to his anxiously. you climbed back onto the bench, straddling his thick cock as you sunk onto it, a moan pulling from your throat before your head crashed onto his shoulder.

“fuck, so tight for me.” he says as he grips onto your ass, bouncing you up and down at a steady pace. you moaned as his tip brushed the soft spot inside you. he slowed down as your reached back to unzip your top, freeing your tits from their constraint.

“my fucking god, look at them” he says. quickly, he takes one into his mouth as you grind back and forth on his cock. you whimpered as his swollen cock stretched you out like never before. he was always good but was it EVER like this? not that you could remember.

“god you’re so big.” you whimper, your head nuzzled on the side of his neck. his hands return their grip on your ass, assisting your movements as you started to grow tired. he bounces you quickly up and down on his cock.

“look you pretty like this baby.” he says between his quick breaths, attaching your lips to his as you lifted your head from under his chin.

“lu, i think im getting close.” he says and lifts you lightly off his lap, snapping his hips into you, a yelp leaving your mouth involuntarily. he pounded into you quickly, hitting deeper than before.

“fuck.” you moaned loudly as your grew impossibly closer to your orgasm.

“oh i’m cumming, fuck.” he grunts as his hips stutter, spilling his climax into the condom as your own orgasm washed over you quickly.

“holy fuck.” you sigh out, your head crashing back into his shoulder.

“let’s see how many of these we can leave behind this summer yeah?” he smirks as both of your chests rose and fell heavily. you giggles at his remark, sitting up and locking eyes with him.

“you’re so fucking gorgeous y/n.” he says, a sparkle in his eye a bit brighter than usual.

“thank you handsome.” you say smiling, pressing a loving kiss to his lips. you sat up off his lap, pulling him out of you, yanking the condom off of his slowly softening cock. you tossed it to the ground, starting your own pile on the ground of the row behind you. you put your clothes back on as he tucked himself away. you straddled his lap once again, more innocently this time.

“i think i love you.” you whisper into his jawline as you peppered it with light kisses.

“what’d you say baby?” he says, pulling away, a hopefully gleam in his eyes.

“i said i thi-,” you pause as your heart pounds in your chest, “i- i love you luca.”

he remains silent for a moment as a smile grows on his face. he places a gentle hand in the hair on the back of your neck, pulling your lips to his. this kiss was much more passionate than the many you had shared before. he pulled away slowly, with a wide smile on his face.

“and i love you.” you replies before you hug onto him, never wanting to let go. this moment confirmed everything you had second thoughts about, and now it wasn’t a question as to the status of your relationship.

“we need to go back sweet girl, we gotta go meet mark and see how that went,” he says pressing kisses to your cheek.

“yes let’s go.” you say giggling as you gathered you jacket and walked back to the car, his arm snuggly wrapped around your shoulder. you climb back into the car leaning over the console to kiss him again.

“i can’t believe i get to love you.” he smiles as you slowly pull away.

“says you.” you giggle smacking his chest as he giggles, putting the car in reverse, driving back towards the party, just as busy as you left it.

-

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Plot Bunny behind the cut; "Clark panic-adopts his teenage clones (yes, including the supervillain one)". (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Um,” Thirteen says, glancing at the box warily. “So like, you want us to . . . wear that? Like, your, uh–your old . . .” 

“Better fit for the farm, like I said,” Superman says. Match does not understand how Superman thinks either of them is any kind of “fit” for this environment no matter how he dresses. “If nothing else, Lara’s going to need civilian clothes, so if these fit him alright that’ll mean we don’t have to find him a whole wardrobe all at once.” 

“Uh,” Thirteen says, looking–uncomfortable. Match stares blankly at Superman and attempts to reconcile literally a single thing in this conversation, but is mostly stuck on: 

a) is Superman expecting him to regularly wear civilian clothes? 

and 

b) is Superman under the impression that Thirteen owns civilian clothes? 

“Also means you don’t have to loan him half your wardrobe,” Superman adds wryly. Match cannot believe that he’s been stolen by an idiot that rivals Thirteen, but no wonder the Agenda had to modify his DNA to keep him from being an idiot. 

“Uh–right,” Thirteen says, looking uncomfortable. Match vaguely despises all of existence, but specifically the existence of every idiot whose unaccompanied DNA ever wound up in a petri dish and made him have to put up with existing himself. 

“Thirteen doesn’t own civilian clothes,” he says flatly. 

“I own clothes, asshole,” Thirteen says, bristling a little. 

“Are you referring to the abandoned beachwear on the floor of your closet or the collection of mismatched socks founding a civilization under your bed?” Match asks dryly. Thirteen turns red and bristles a lot. 

“I–fuck you!” he sputters, visibly embarrassed. “And stop fucking creeping around my bunk, Christ!” 

“Maybe you should be more worried about your employers who run a cloning lab being stupid enough to just let any familiar face walk in through the front door with no questions asked,” Match points out still more dryly. “Just in terms of things you can affect and should be concerned about.” 

“You’re such a fucking shithead,” Thirteen snaps, glowering at him, then looks briefly even more embarrassed and glances at Superman’s parents with a wince. “Uh . . . I mean . . .” 

“. . . Kon,” Superman says with a strange expression. “Do you actually not–” 

Superman cuts himself off, and Thirteen turns red, half-cringing in on himself for a moment before visibly forcing himself to straighten up in his seat and draw himself up to take up space again. 

Stupid, Match thinks, entirely unsurprised by said stupidity. 

“I mean, why would I, man? Not like I really do undercover or whatever,” Thirteen replies with a casual shrug, which fully reinforces the “stupid” assessment, as ever. Thirteen has mastered living down to expectations, in Match’s experience. “Usually Rob just digs something up for me if we gotta go someplace under the radar.”

Superman looks very strange.

[vamphorica]

How would a female Mello, matt, and Near be?

absolutely wonderful question, anon, thank you so much. if you've been on my blog for any length of time, it is probably not surprising that i've given this a lot of thought and, putting aside my intricate transgender speculations for the time being, let's gender swap the wammy's creatures, and consider how that could impact their narratives within death note.

note: i will still be referring to all three using he/him pronouns, but this is not intended to be intentionally contrary. feel free to substitute whatever pronouns your heart desires throughout.

♀ mello -> mihaela may be a little bit obvious, haha, but if mihael is a croatian name that means 'who is like god', and we need to retain the letter 'm' for obvious reasons, i think it works well as a feminine alternative name. mello is relatively androgynous as an alias, if not slightly masculine, but i think it is fine given what i'm about to talk about.

mello's canonical gender expression is already nonconformative, so it is interesting to speculate what he would he look like if he were a girl. one of my absolute favourite genderbent depictions of mello is this piece by thekatzone because it still retains mello's visual ambiguity but in the opposite direction. i do think he would dress more masculine as a woman not only because his subversive appearance is a very significant aspect to his character, but also because of how it might relate to his position in the mafia.

mello spends a significant amount of time in the manga and anime in hypermasculine environments despite his presentation, and i think it is important to retain this idea even if he were to be genderbent. i do think mello would have had a much harder time, if it was at all possible, in attaining a leadership position within the mafia as a woman. the women who frequent the base are implied to be sex workers, and so i'm genuinely curious as to whether mello would have felt able to approach the organisation as a masculine presenting woman, or whether he'd seek out a different group. in which case, what would that group be? would he have been able to effectively carry out his insane plans in the same capacity?

i have very little doubt mello would still have been ambitious, but i actually don't think that he would have been able to pursue his goal to catch kira before near as he went about it in the series. certainly light would not have taken him seriously if the voice he heard down the phone was higher pitched, and that alone could have greatly impacted how sayu's kidnapping played out, as underestimating mello could have easily resulted in her death.

♀ matt -> apparently mail as a name means 'pleasant', and that is very funny to me. i quite like the name maille, which is irish, so fits nicely with a vague headcanon i haven't fully developed. i also learnt it is the name for a brand of mustard, and i think he would appreciate that. matt as a pseudonym might have to be changed to matilda, or martha.

while i am under no illusion that matt would be the kind of girl to give a shit about their appearance, i do think in another life, he would have made an excellent e-girl twitch streamer. i can imagine him wearing cat ear headphones and miniskirts, and referring to "chat" every five seconds. rest in peace, mail, you would have loved twitch subs.

regarding matt's gender identity in the canon series, i think that it worth considering how he might have responded differently to surveying others as a woman rather than as a man. i think matt's approach to watching others is very informed by his own personal biases, which I think are definitively masculine. The most clear example of this is how he describes misa as "an awfully cute japanese girl" which, while isn't necessarily the worst thing said about a woman in this godforsaken series, demonstrates that matt's perspective on women is superficial at best. this isn't helped either by the fact that he completely fucks up when guessing misa's age, even going so far as referring to her as a "child".

i think a female matt would probably feel the most overwhelmed of the three by societal expectations of women, and may even distance himself away from femininity. i'm not trying to suggest here that matt's comments imply he's misogynistic, but i actually think matt is the most masculine of the wammy's kids, which may be controversial, i don't know. i believe that he retains his masculine personality in this genderbent scenario.

♀ near -> i love the japanese pronunciation of near's name, nia, as a girl's name that he could use as an alias. natania has the same meaning as nate – 'gift of god' – which does not match his character at all, haha, but that is what i managed to come up with.

near is the easiest to consider gender swapping because to me, he's a girl anyway. you can point to his female voice actors in the anime, or his long hair in the 2020 manga one-shot, but he is also so clearly coded as a feminine character, a contrast from not only mello's aggressive impulsivity, but the masculine environment of law enforcement. with halle as a notable exception (who herself is very masculine, but another post, perhaps), near is markedly different from every other character in the series. some might say he resembles his predecessor, but i think they are very distinct from one another as characters.

my personal opinion relating to mello and near's gender identities (which you may disagree with) is that mello expresses his gender ambiguity externally whereas near does so internally. essentially, if we interpret them both as androgynous, mello's appearance is far more expressive of this, whereas near's behaviour is his more nonconformative trait. this can be a slightly tricky area to navigate as it's important not to dive headfirst into gender essentialism, but i think near's mannerisms can, and should, be explored here.

girl near would still be able to work as head of the spk, without the disadvantages girl mello would face to become head of the mafia. i really don't think there would be much in the way of significant plot deviance if near was female, other than maybe light freaking out over the fact he was caught by a woman, which would be very funny. in the one shot, near's internal androgyny has manifested itself as a more external expression, and i really like that decision.

to conclude, i do love the concept of the wammy's girls, and i think it invites some interesting discussions relating to how femininity is often dismissed in death note. there's a lot of creativity in genderbending characters. mello, matt and near each have complex and interesting traits that are very fun to explore when thinking about them from this perspective.

[yandere-yearnings]

HEAVENCALL (??? x Fem!Reader)

feat. Cecilia Romano

♡ oneshot, approx. 1k words

♡ post-specific warnings: NSFW, sub + bottom afab reader, fingering (reader receiving), 'good girl' used on reader, depictions of gore and violence, masochism & sadism, Stockholm syndrome, abuse, collaring, blood play, (extreme) knife play, implied mind break, implied imprisonment, vaguely implied reference to cannibalism, extreme toxicity, DDDNE

♡ a/n: most important thing to anyone reading this is to pls be mindful of the content warnings above and to not read if you think it could be triggering for you. this is vv dark fiction and i legit cannot stress that enough. a lighter christmas fic will be posted soon, which can be viewed alternatively.

this is @unhappy-last-resort's gift for our secret santa fic exchange!! unhappy i'm gonna need you to forgive me for how shitty this turned out lmao. i lied when i said it would be my last rewrite and got wasted so i could churn smth out before today. i'm burnt out to all fuck and too tired to fix the medical inaccuracies drunk me did not consider so pls pretend that the femoral artery does not exist and the bleeding is venous otherwise our reader is technically dead and not just passed out💀 this is purely a work of fiction. yandere behaviour in real life is a cause of concern. proofread, unedited.

♡♡♡

It was because you hadn’t seen light in days. Chained up to this wall, waiting like a dog for your angel to come down to you — sensitive eyes, slithers of blinding white around her silhouette looking like a luminous halo. Deaf to her footsteps, blind to the blood on her dress or the stench of it, all you knew was her when she put her hands on you. Learning to treasure it, since it would only be you here grieving every touch you were deprived of when she left.  

“Miserable thing,” fingers smoothing out in your hair turn violent, she tugs, “feel special yet?”

When she chokes you, you do. You think the collar might just cut into your flesh from the force as Cecilia pulls on it. Lips meeting hers, you are whole again with the way her nails dig into your cheek, like she wants to rip the skin right off. Bringing the claim she has on each corner of your soul right to the surface, the sole thing that has become easy for you to understand is that you are ruined for this world.

“Please…” you beg, and you remain unaware of what for. There is something pulsating inside of you, blood beating bones from depths in which a consuming rot grows ugly. Cecilia’s scalpel shows an animal starved, and you recognise that it’s you. The spit and drool come like magic, she wets your dry throat easy with just a few fingers in your mouth — you are hungry. Her knees hit the ground for you, in turn your heart wants to come right up as penance for your unworthiness.

Thin gown bunched up into the crease of your groin, too light to feel any warmth from it — and you are too taken by the coldness of the blade on your thigh to care. Aching for the push, so your body could give way and you could feel the sharpness nestle inside of you, to wrap around something, to bury it in the grave of an open wound. Cecilia keeps a distance your cuffed wrists cannot close, and your desire drips from you with nothing to hide, nor cling to.

Spine lined with explosives, the first graze has the pleasure spark seriatim; the release of pressure you had been neck-deep in brutalises you, and you are delirious on the feel of being ripped apart without the motions. Each score burns. New layers of you are uncovered and exposed to this world and Cecilia wrenches your head down to watch. 

Mouth agape, your drool parts a translucent line over the pooling sangria. “More,” pleading for it, despite how muffled it came out. You want her to rip this chunk of you right off. You want to be between her teeth and down her throat. You want, and it’s butchering. “Deeper,” the tears come with your chest squeezing, come with the choked up moan when her digits bear down on your tongue harder. Your mistake is clear to you the moment you see the wash of those baby blues lock on you, the reverie of bringing the sky down to your prison and the vastness as you lost your mind to it has your breath hitching.

Ringing in your ears dulled to the scattering greys when Cecilia hits you, cheekbone smashing against the wall, sending the vibrations all throughout your skull. Ecstasy takes on the taste of metal. Sure enough, the savage inside of you is unsettled, is not yet satisfied.

“When have I ever let you command me?” Her knife edge twists, makes ribbons of your tissues — makes you writhe deliciously. “Do you think you have a will?”

“No.” The answer needs no contemplation, it has been ingrained in you. “‘M sorry,” your vision spots when you crane your neck, you’ve been putting more and more of your weight into the bricks, your shackles sting. “Was so good I went dumb, ‘m sorry. I won’t do it again,” you sniffle, “p-please…”

Acutely aware of the moment the surgical steel leaves you; biting your lip to suppress your whimper when the air hits. “That’s better,” and you are sure this is a punishment until Cecilia takes your face, “see, you know how to be a good girl, don’t you?”

Something hot floods your guts, you’re nodding before you even have a chance to rub your thighs together — not that you’d be allowed to. Her palm is pressing right to the laceration, she keeps you splayed apart like that, and her nails are mere millimetres away from showing you a supernova. Red tracks streak a trail all the way to your core, the fabric in contact with it is damp, is threading clear strings to a place that’s throbbing with need to be desecrated.

All your nerves fray when she sinks in, and just like that, the ability to latch onto her human caress is wasted on you. Only remembering how to stay agape, how to curl your toes and tear from your bottom lip to hold back your moans. Your walls are sopping for her, they slobber just as much as you do for the euphoria Cecilia imposes into you. Gasping her name, flashes of a world outside you no longer want to return to, legs trembling when her thumb comes up. She plays you so well, makes a mess — makes a masterpiece out of all your misery and mortality alike.

Whispering, “you were my best decision,” — and like a blessing, your undoing lays rest to you. Pink slick and pain, everything becomes sweet in this swarming black. Angels. Her laughter, a hymn. Singing. Heavencall.

[mirror-imaged]

okay i finished nirvana initiative + the extra route and i kind of have a lot to say. umm. lots and lots of spoiler discussion under the readmore! i'm also gonna do some zero escape spoiler talk as well in case that's something you want to avoid because i really think it helps me illustrate my feelings, but yeah. you have been warned!

so i liked it overall but i feel like i (like many other people i've seen online while searching for other people's opinions) am constantly kind of frustrated with it. i'm left with a focus on What Could Have Been over what actually happened in the story. i'm gonna just. make a list to get my main gripes off my mind before i get to the deeper stuff.

1) the timeline plot twist feels extremely pointless because the characters are not impacted by it at all, save ryuki (i'll come back to this later)

2) there are too many elements of the story that are either not explained well or are explained with in-game text in the appendix etc. (why did they wait until the epilogue to explain uru somezuki being another of so sejima's bastard children? why did they keep the prototype psync machine just there and untouched but modified in order to not require the removal of the left eye, like wouldn't they not want that thing lying around in the abandoned chemical plant? did they ever explain why gen was in tokiko's somnium besides a vague reference to him having been from horadori's lab? so on and so forth.)

3) the final act feels way too contrived and there are too many things that would have to conveniently line up in order for it to make any sense at all. (why does mizuki kuranushi conveniently dress the exact same as mizuki date will six years in the future? how does nobody in mizuki date's life at all ever mention that there's another girl who looks and sounds exactly like her that they know? how did renju and shoko conveniently never mention that mizuki is adopted to date, you know, one of their closest friends reportedly?)

4) continuing off of that, all of the returning characters that had serious character development in the first game feel extremely flanderized or like their development was ignored. (mizuki having THE MOST parent-related trauma and being formally adopted by date right before he just fucks off for six years and not having anything to say about that? date is extremely flat and barely a character in this game beyond being a pervert, and like, i don't want to say he's not a pervert. he's definitely a pervert. but he also really stuck out to me as a character with real emotional depth and a lot of intelligence where it counts and i don't like that they made him kinda nothing in this. etc.)

5) the way they handled ryuki in this was almost good but honestly, i think a reddit user i saw discussing this put it best when they said that 99% of ryuki's screentime is showing him at his lowest and the story doesn't really let him have a moment to get himself back together. the protagonist screentime split does not work at all and mizuki kuranushi and mizuki date might as well just be exchangeable, and that same user pointed out that it leaves mizuki date as an extremely underdeveloped character in this story.

okay, well, what else do i have to say? returning to the ryuki thing so i can discuss it in more detail, it feels like they really fumbled the unreliable narrator thing with him. he had so much potential to be explored in a deeper way with his constant self-sabotaging behaviors and showing that his mental illness was the whole reason the story is experienced out of order, and i love the idea of the story being out of order if it's executed well. but it wasn't! the fact that mizuki's perspective is also added in that way makes it so that it's really difficult to use ryuki's own status as an unreliable narrator to make that twist work, because, like... the mizukis are both reliable narrators. they're not lying to the audience. it's just that the audience doesn't see what happens leading up to things and your impression gives you an idea that isn't the truth.

overall, i feel really frustrated about the way the final act was handled. ryuki's entire half of the story was pretty good and i liked that, i like a lot of things about this story in THEORY. in fact, i do want to be positive about things i did like before i bring ZE into the equation, so i want to mention something i noted and appreciated: the disability representation!

i am a disabled person myself in multiple ways and - i want to stress i do not say this as any sort of personal attack on his character or as a #problematic kind of thing, it's just something i have noticed over time - i have consistently had an issue with kotaro uchikoshi's writing of disabled characters; not for the fact that i think they're written in malicious or particularly ableist ways, but moreso for the fact that their disabilities do not impact them at all until it's relevant to the plot. i've gotten about 11-12 hours into remember11 and their portrayal of DID is a mess. snake from 999 is not affected by his blindness and infact is portrayed as nearly superhuman until it's relevant to the plot (not that i wanted him to be written as incapable or anything, it's just that it doesn't feel like it has any particular impact on him until it comes to things like braille or his hearing). sigma from vlr doesn't notice he has prosthetic limbs until extremely late into the story, but i guess i can let that one slide because they're on the moon. saito sejima is.... ugh. the thing that sort of saves saito for me is that date is proof that he could have turned out 100% fine if it weren't for his father's neglect, but it's still a pretty thoughtless portrayal of a character with a brain disorder.

anyway! point is, usually it feels like the disabilities characters have in his writing are thought about as wrinkles to the mystery before being things that really truly impact the characters lives, and i didn't feel that issue here as much. kizuna is allowed to have complicated feelings about her own body and is supported by those she cares about, mizuki kuranushi is stopped multiple times when it's inconvenient for her because her chronic illness is flaring up, ryuki is shown to be a danger to himself and others due to his struggle to hold onto reality in a way i think is a lot more realistic for mental disorders than what happened with saito, etc. it's something i think i've witnessed over the years of his work become more thoughtful and it's also obvious based on the things mizuki date says at the end of the story + the things he says on twitter that uchikoshi himself does seem to genuinely care about being kind in those sorts of ways.

aside from that: back to nirvana initiative.

for previous context, let me bring up zero escape. i think it has a lot of parallels to the way aitsf+aini are written. 999 is a very (ultimately) small-scale and human story with an extremely compelling emotional center. vlr, naturally, must raise the stakes in some ways- so they bring in world-ending threats and elevate the drama. however, it also retcons some things about 999 that i think were kind of unnecessary, like hongou being a member of free the soul. but there are also things i like about vlr, which is that it can't be anything but a sequel to 999. it brings in characters from the previous game, it incorporates the established canon and world in a way that naturally builds on the twist of the first game, it cuts the bullshit and gets into exploring the implications of the morphogenetic field far earlier and incorporates new twists and storytelling into that such as phi experiencing the timelines at a different pace than you (which is a better version of aini's twist, imo.)

aitsf has that same hook as 999. it's ultimately a small-scale story about a few characters with well-written characterization and focus on their stories and emotions. aini, however, takes the lows of vlr and drops all of the highs. there are more moving pieces and none of them feel organized, the final twist doesn't really impact anything except for solving the murder to the player (it doesn't solve the murder to the characters, because they're experiencing something entirely different!) and it feels like it only exists to say there was a big Gotcha! moment at the end of the game. and, what i think is just absolutely a huge disappointment, they completely left aitsf in the dust and didn't allow aini to be a true sequel because they were too worried about spoilers or whatever. they wanted to have their cake and eat it too, i think.

it's a real shame. vlr is, for all its faults, a conversation with 999. aini doesn't even want to answer the phone.

[a-murmur-of-a-prayer]

Rambles On Femininity And Gender

(Wow this turned out longer than I thought. I guess you're getting some prose/vaguely poetry-esque writing tonight. WARNING: it's all pretty mild, but I do bring up derogatory terms for women, as well as vague references to sex, sexual assault and suicidal ideation.)

*clears throat*

My relationship with my body, and with the idea of being a woman, is so fascinating to me - because for years I did feel like a girl, but when I turned 18 I couldn't call myself a woman. It felt weird. I still can't call myself a woman. But I don't remotely feel like a man, either. I also don't feel comfortable thinking of myself as non-binary or genderfluid. For a long time, I haven't really known what I am.

Lately, I've started to play with the idea of that, and why I feel that way. I was allowed to be a tomboy when I was a kid, to relate to male characters, to help my dad with physical chores since I didn't have brothers - then the moment I turned 13, I needed to wear make-up and act like a lady. But I couldn't draw sexual attention; I had to wear modest clothes, to be gentle enough, to be polite enough, to be the exact right balance of everything.

"Oh, don't wear that," I'd hear, "you don't want to look like...well, never mind." There was an invisible word there that I wasn't old enough to know. I learned it when I went to high school; the word was slut, or some variation of it. And how do you deal with growing up as a girl, when you like playing in the dirt and pretending to be an action hero, but deep down you're also dreaming of being loved? What do you do when the only way to be loved is to abandon all the things you like in service of some person everyone else wants you to be? What do you do when you want to talk to boys, but your friends tell you stories about being sexually assaulted by their boyfriends? What do you do when old men whistle at you, and when the boys you sit in class with say vulgar things about the girls they want to fuck? What do you do when all the adults in your life tell you to look like a lady but not to dress a certain way, not to even think about sex...and on the other side, most girls in your town lose their virginity by age 15?

You are given a choice, essentially, between being fuckable and having autonomy. It sickens me that I even put it into such black and white terms; removed from the environment, I realize how horrible it was that I thought that was so normal. I chose to have autonomy, partially because it seemed safer at the time but also because I had squashed down every ounce of thoughts about sex I'd ever had. It wasn't a woman's job to be interested in sex; it was your job to be interested in having children. But obviously, I wasn't going to even have that, because I'd made painstaking effort to not draw the wrong type of attention. That meant that when I actually drew the right type of attention, when a boy was interested in me, I couldn't recognize it.

When I turned 18, they said "you're a woman now!" Outwardly, I looked like one. But inwardly, I didn't recognize that. I knew what my body was, but that body wasn't a woman.

Eventually, once I got out of that town, I started to change. Sometimes for the better (I made friends who were comfortable with whatever version of me existed, with whom I could embrace whatever side of gender I felt like), and sometimes for the worse (I craved a relationship, so the replacement for that was toxic people that gave me extreme depression to the point of suicidal ideation). And then, after that all passed, it started to hit me that I hadn't kissed or had sex with anyone and I was in my twenties, an old maid by my hometown's standards, so I started going out to bars, putting on a performance, finding a guy here and there to flirt with, and sometimes more than that...but the more men I kissed, the emptier I felt. So I didn't know what to do.

Now, I'm starting to enjoy things I never thought I would. I wear make-up every day, because I like it. I cut my hair short because I wanted to, and now I'm starting to grow it out in a way I think I'll enjoy. I write smut fics, and I enjoy it; it channels something I haven't historically thought about. I like dancing at bars with my friends. I wear things that sometimes show a little too much, that maybe make me look like a slut. I've learned to experience things for my own pleasure. I've learned to watch movies and say, out loud, that guy's hot, and not feel like a shallow teenager for saying it. This might seem really weird to the rest of you; but that's something I've struggled with for my entire life, and even saying that little bit feels like a huge victory. Scratch that, to think about sex at all is a victory.

And the thing about it is that I enjoy it when I'm doing it for myself. I might not have found a boyfriend yet; a depressing part of me thinks that maybe I never will, that I'll just drift through life craving touch and connection and love and not be able to get it. But I do know that when I do those little things, I feel just a bit happier. I like myself just a little bit more, because it helps me to tell myself - I deserve love, I deserve happiness, I deserve to feel pleasure, I deserve to look pretty. I want to be soft, and I don't want to lead all the time, and none of that is going to put me in danger if I find the right person. And it's okay to want it.

If 14-year-old me could see me right now, she'd be betrayed. She'd think, how could you? Don't you still want to be like Indiana Jones? Don't you want to have your own job? And the answer is yes, I do. But maybe I would've liked doing feminine things too, wearing lacy lingerie and low-cut tops and make-up, and flirting with boys, if I hadn't been pressured to do it for someone else's idea of a woman.

I still don't think I can call myself a woman, though. I'm not upset about it in the slightest; it's just probably something that's never going to change.

Now, I don't know if this is a unique experience, or something anyone else can relate to; this is the most personal, in-depth post I've written about myself, but I wrote it partially in the hope that, if this resonates with anyone, it makes you feel seen. Or maybe this really is a completely original experience, and I've just lived a weird, insane life. Either way, it really does help to own up to how I feel and write it out - usually I channel that in fanfiction, but this has been cathartic in a way I never could have imagined.

(Could this have been way shorter? Yes. However, I'm not a concise person, so I don't really care.)

[alitgblog]

s9 vol 6: oh fuck I was joking last time but am i.. is this gonna be a Hamish route for me??? 😳

i guess first of all, the kelly/kat drama. I know it's yet again Finn and Kat but I'm happy they're dealing with it in a different way (although if S5 is Suresh's island, I can't help but think S9 is Kat's island 🙄). The thing that annoyed me the most is MC not being able to say anything? Like Kelly brought up the note, I feel like MC and Finn should've said something.

however we do get this, which, as someone with a friend whose name starts with K going through relationship troubles with a Korean man, actually I'm offended they took my joke and made it less funny,

but snog marry pie! Most of the girls (my MC included) choosing to kiss Hamish? It's like we all forget how bad a kisser he was in S6 like what happened. however, uhhh kinda worth it like I was initially intrigued about a Finn or Stefan route but Hamish is really coming in as a dark horse with chat like this (especially considering how sassy MC can be this season)

and the thing too is even though hes clearly changed bc they're making him a serious LI this season, there are several moments where I'm like yeah that's the same guy that had the audacity to ask S6 MC to run away with him at the end of S6

Then I played by rules like Chen, and chose a different person to snog, a different person to marry, a different person to pie. And then Hamish gets his little moment kissing and marrying MC, which kind of undermines the big moment which is his speech where he pies himself? like the talk on the terrace later this volume is great and I love the flirty banter between him and MC but he's so wishy washy about Natasha and it just doesn't really get addressed?

Kat's partner (in my game, Jude) is a whole mess. Like it'd be one thing if he's gonna be like "hey I'm sorry I was just defending Chen because I misinterpreted some stuff I thought you did" but it's another to do all that meanwhile he was also being shady about flirting with Melissa???

Then they call the incident Melgate bc... fusebox struck gold with Cherrygate and has been trying to recreate it ever since and has always failed. I never clicked the gem scene that would prompt Kat to tell you this story, and so I was so confused until they explained it in the next episode and that was so annoying. Then they do the thing (again!) where they like shame you for not being a friend (Kat's like "I tried to tell you"). this is worse than when you had an ugly dress and the girls were like God you look awful.

Jude being vague during the game was annoying bc i know theyre just stretching it out but also absolutely I could see that happening on the show where he's like "you know what you did. we'lltalk about it later" and it cuts to MC in the beach hut being like "judes being a real bitch. of course I know what I did but which time are you referring to"

Chen being constantly voted the sweetest during the challenge and then awards night is great but also just reminds me that his character is gonna be so vague from now on bc he's sharing a personality with three other guys. like its gonna hurt to break him but also he's not getting the care from the writing team that they've been giving the other routes so unfortunately he's boring rn 😬. doesn't even have the audacity to be mad just has to go away and think. And Chen just keeps taking L's too with MC (at least in my game) flirting with everyone and Jude in his ear saying MC can't be trusted. like if he twists in casa I'm not even sure if the audience would blame him (they would bc they love MC but ya knowww)

God don't remind me I'm missing not only missing actual litg season 2 but also what I have instead is Kat and Finn season 2

anyway MC being able to say never have I ever had a steamy shower with someone? she's so messy

also with Natasha explaining more of what she did in casa on her original season has me making things up in my head bc you gotta be a pretty memorable casa girl for the game to pretend you're an all star but she didn't even make it to the actual villa so that's even harder to imagine, but I'm going to pretend she flirted with one of the guys while also sneaking behind his back with Roxy and people ate that up. then he tells her he wants to bring her to the villa and she rides off into the sunset with Roxy instead (or Roxy breaks her heart goes in the villa with a guy idk)

I'm starting to think Kat's gonna end up either with Finn or if MC is with Finn, then single but then we get a reunion episode and she reveals she's dating Finn's brother bc she has a TYPE (also wouldn't be out of the ordinary for fusebox bc of the grace/ozzy/marshall thing but it's still icky to me lol)

then lastly for brunch we got the first of TWO prompts this volume to lay to learn about your own backstory?? I mean no question I'm upset about paying for information but your OWN character??

I had no problem saying no though like I feel like there's enough context about Sarah Ann for me to guess (side note, if anyone from Casa comes back with Sarah Ann I'm throwing hands)

OK but awards now. I feel like awards night is usually an end of season thing when the producers of the show have not much drama left bc the couples are solid and they want to throw in drama for the last week, but seeing as this is a game and they can just write in the finale whenever, I guess here is alright. (I wonder if that means no movie night then though?)

the clip they showed of Natasha? honestly, I respect her more for it. like idk she just seems more real than this perfect character flirting with MC all the time if she's venting to Hamish about also being sick of Kat and Finn or small things like Kelly taking long to get ready.

Here's where I did wish there was more branching like I think if you didn't do anything with Finn you should get a nice award, like about being loyal, while the clip still showed Finn being sneaky. like I don't doubt that if this were real, the producers of the show WOULD show the note and then getting cut off before MC realizing it's Finn and not her partner, but it's irritating to get blamed for that and even worse, MC does not get a real chance to defend herself, we just listen to everyone else's reactions.

anyway in my game MC should've been shown pieing off Finn at the pool and then Jude apologizing realizing he didn't understand what he saw. and then subsequently after show the clip of MC trying to kiss Finn at the shower and him rejecting her bc I personally loved that moment and I actually gasped when I thought they were gonna show it instead of cutting it off (bc again, not enough branching)

I did spend the gems on the second MC lore thing bc I was like ehh why not it's the end of the volume and like wow I get why I like s9 mc now, she's so Bobby coded 🤣

once again, I do appreciate the effort going into Hamish's route rn bc he has actual consequences and regrets for hooking up with Melissa and it getting exposed. OK maybe not actual consequences bc I think the game will just continue to pair up him and Natasha but the fact that there are some repercussions at all AND he gets to talk out his feelings and regrets about it with MC on the terrace after? And then he continues to show interest in MC and explain his reasons for not being with her and also the whole hi trying to look for validation from his dad? sorry Finn and Chen, the writers are playing favorites

I did not think we were getting casa lmao. there's no casa in the actual love island all stars and love island games so I was surprised but I'm curious about who the other boys are, if they're all gonna be international or are we gonna see at least one more UK islander? if Cassius is coming in during casa it feels like he's gonna be overshadowed and his route is probably merged with some international guys, which I guess makes enough sense like we didn't know him during season 7 anyway but I'm just curious.

oh yeah and this guy

late to the party like I know the game keeps reminding me of him, but the more they did the interested I was, but I could be brought back

OK fingers crossed they don't dump single islanders post casa

[quibbs126]

Oh yeah, so does anyone remember that one Professor Layton OC I made back during my Layton phase?

Not Eileen, I’m talking about this guy here. The character who was unnamed but was part of an idea I had for a Layton story (and also an ex of Descole’s)

Well, I actually named him ages ago, as well as gave him a bit more stuff (not a lot, just a bit), and about 2 hours ago I just randomly decided to draw/redesign him again. For no particular reason, I just did it

If I’m being honest, I don’t think the redesign turned out half bad. I didn’t do much, just changed up his hair and outfit a little, but I think it works. Ironically I was using Ace Attorney characters as more of my reference here than Layton. Maybe not the best but it works

Also I know his cane arm looks weird, but shh

I wrote most of the stuff about him up there, but his name is now Claude di Adone, for reasons I don’t remember. I do remember where Claude came from though, it was @notllorstel’s Twisted Fates AU Descole that was Layton. And also that his name was supposed to sound both vaguely French and Italian

As I recall, the hypothetical plot centers a good deal on parts of Descole’s past (though not a lot on Descole’s character development), where Layton and co come to this town where at least in public, everyone dresses similar to Descole. Not necessarily because of him, but rather because it was based on the bauta masks and the fact that apparently people in Venice once commonly wore these outfits and that sounded cool

Actually I think I remember the name of the story now, I believe it was City of Masks or something like that

Edit: I found the original post, it was Town of Masks

Anyways, Claude was the one who called Layton here, as he wanted him to solve some mystery going around the town that I never really figured out, and had done so after learning of his reputation

However, there’s more to Claude as he actually once knew Desmond Sycamore when they were younger. The image says “friend” because they weren’t just friends, they were actually dating, but Claude might not make that fully known. There are hints prior to this revelation that Claude knows a bit more than he should about Layton from the papers, or at least on a level that he shouldn’t for a complete stranger, like trying to call Layton by his first name. This is because Claude has been fully aware of the Hershel twist for years as this was before Desmond got super secretive about his former life and considered Claude someone he could trust. So from Claude’s perspective he’s meeting the famed younger brother of an old friend/ex of his that he’s never fully gotten over his feelings for, and he occasionally forgets that Layton probably doesn’t know that

But not only does Claude have a past with Desmond/Descole, but Descole himself happens to be in the town as well, albeit with a bout of amnesia. Note that this is supposed to take place sometime after the prequels. Claude is well aware of this, and this is the second secret reason he called Layton, as he knows Layton has a past with both Desmond and Descole, and hopes that Layton will be able to jog his memory, especially as Claude himself has been struggling with that due to the large gap in time from when they last met

Also, there’s the matter of his cane. Originally I said that he used one due to an injury in the past, but now I’ve decided he’s just always had weak legs, and has been using a cane pretty much his whole life. His cane does still secretly have a sword though

Claude is a nice guy, and can be rather generous, such as letting Layton and his friends stay in his house for their time here, since he’s rich with a big house and lives alone aside from some servants, so there’s plenty of room, and he does ultimately have good intentions, but he can also be shady as fuck sometimes and you probably don’t know him as well as you think

And yeah, I just felt like sharing that. Don’t know if anyone cares but I did

[adzeisval]

Holding Back Tears

Izzy reunites with Ed. Also on AO3.

Izzy knew he was alive, he was thirsty and hungry, his bones ached from being tossed in the storm all night, but nothing that had happened after made any sense. The people he was with should be dead, he’d seen most of them die. 

Izzy felt even more alive once he had eaten and gotten dressed. He went out and felt the sea breeze on his face and smelled the briny ocean. It was real, it was familiar. Izzy watched the crew for a bit, they seemed a bit new but close knit and the morale was good. 

Most of the crew had come up to him and told Izzy they were glad he was there and introduced themselves. Some Izzy vaguely remembered from Bonnet’s crew, others were new to him. He found himself in a world where Bonnet wasn’t dead and his crew lived on. More importantly Ed was alive. Izzy stomach twisted. None of this could be real but every sense told him it was. It was the imperfection that made it all the more real. If he were dreaming or something else Ivan would be there but he was gone in both places. 

“Doesn’t make any fucking sense,” Izzy muttered and sighed. He decided the best course of action was to go about things like they were normal. He walked around the ship and made sure that everything was correct and in working order. The routine felt good. Doing simple things felt good. Tie a rope here, tighten a knot there, point out a bit of sail to be repaired. All good. 

Izzy was peering over the edge of the ship checking for barnacles when he noticed the name. The crew had referred to the ship as the Revenge, Bonnet's old ship, but the name had been changed. 

Izzy’s Revenge. 

He’d had a home here, a life, and enough of an impact that they honored him by naming the ship after him. Or perhaps they just wanted to use his name to instil fear into their enemies which he wouldn’t blame them for doing. Yet…it was the way they were looking at him that made him think the former was more true than the latter. 

But there were so, so many pieces missing to the puzzle, aside from how the fuck he found himself where he was. They were keeping details sparse, only answering the questions Izzy specifically had. Hiding something. He wished he could focus and figure it all out but his head was too filled with the idea that he might see Eddie alive again. 

Izzy tried to push the memory of watching Ed die out of his mind but it came in even stronger. Izzy had made it to the fort just in time to see Fang drop, the noose snapping his neck as he fell. It was quick, thankfully but it was horrible nonetheless. 

Then Ed. He had looked almost relieved as they got to him. He was so…blank, emotionless as they read out the charges. Izzy had desperately looked around to try to figure out how to save Ed but he couldn’t move and couldn't think the panic overwhelmed him. 

Ed smiled just before they pulled the trapdoor and Izzy didn’t think he would ever forget the manic smile on his face or the sound of his neck snapping.

That had been real, yet here he was in a place that felt just as real where Edward Teach was still alive. 

“We should be getting to the Inn tomorrow morning,” Jim said. 

“Good,” Izzy said. He couldn’t help but notice that Jim wore a single glove on their right hand, and the vest they were wearing was almost the same as Izzy’s, another sign that he had been well liked by this crew.

“Will Ed be glad to see me?” 

“Yes, he was devastated when you died,” Jim said. 

“Was he there?” 

“We all were, he was holding you,” Jim said. 

“I feel like I’m missing things,” Izzy said. 

“It was rough for a bit, you and Ed were…not in a good place. You hurt each other.” 

“Oh.”

“Just…he’s a lot more open emotionally now so he’ll probably cry when he sees you and he’s given up the whole Blackbeard thing and…” 

“I don’t want to hurt him,” Izzy said. He didn’t understand why Ed would leave, for Stede Bonnet? Really, that useless bastard? Give up what they had built over a lifetime? It was fucking confusing but…Ed was alive in this world. Whatever changes had happened in this world meant, however much Izzy didn’t understand or didn’t like them, that Ed was alive because of them. 

“This is all just so fucking weird,” Jim said and Izzy snorted. 

When they got to the Inn, Izzy stayed on the ship and waited for either Ed to come to him or for Ed to be ready. He agreed that it would probably be a bad idea for him to just rush in without preface. He wasn’t the Izzy Ed was used to and this wasn’t quite his Ed but they were close enough that it should work. The connection should be there. 

The love. 

It had taken the heartbreak of losing Eddie to realize it but it was love he felt for the man and he thought there was a chance Ed might have loved him a bit too. His version of Ed at least though would this one be that different? 

Jim came back a half hour later and looked tired. 

“Did it not go well?” 

“It was very weird but he wants to see you,” Jim said. Izzy got in the dinghy and helped row ashore. He steeled himself for a possible negative reaction. He was an interloper, not the same as the man who had died in this world. He wouldn’t cry. Ed being alive was good enough. 

Halfway to the Inn Ed came out on the porch and Izzy had to stop and he gasped because it was true, there was Ed alive. Izzy tried desperately to keep himself from crying. Izzy forced himself to keep moving though his legs felt weak and he thought he might faint from the emotion running through him. 

“Izzy?” 

His voice, Izzy hadn’t thought he’d ever hear Eddie speak again. Izzy managed a few steps more then Ed started toward him. 

“Eddie…” Izzy didn’t know quite what to say but he didn’t have to say anything. Ed got to him and wrapped his arms around Izzy and Izzy hugged him back and he only lasted a few more seconds holding his tears back before they flowed freely. 

Ed was crying as well as they held each other. Izzy knew they were being watched, that it probably wasn’t a good idea to be so emotional out in the open but…this place was different and Izzy found that he really didn’t give a fuck.

[tssdresses]

The dress of Io

@tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors (hi please let me know about any pronoun mess ups and I'll edit the post, I think I got them right, but... just to be safe)

There have been a few iterations of designs for Io’s dress— all of which have very flowery inspirations. I sent Violet an ask and the first thing bay said was “something vaguely gauzy with a petal skirt,’ so that’s been a heavy part of all the deign ideas thus far. 

So, over various asks and time and fics, the needed elements are:

Colors: Reds and deep purples, like mulberry fruit, and white and cream, like mulberry flowers. Greens as needed. I'm thinking mostly a pinky-red. If you look at the first image below, there are three mulberries in a line at the top left-- look at the one in the middle and/or the one under it (not in the line of three) for a good color reference.

Thigh holster: Knife. Hot. Io needs a knife under ly skirt because it’s what lu deserves. I'm thinking either a faux leather, because that's what I use for part of Remus's dress, or strap made of several green fabrics woven together, to give it a homemade vibe, like Io made it laself. And it will be accessible via... :

Skirt shape: Petals. The first idea I had was a petunia, to make a solid skirt with five panels, each which would have a scalloped edge to create the shape of the flower, like these:

Skirt, cont.: But after realizing that lu would need access to a thigh holster for ly knife, I started to think about how to access that in skirt form. One idea is to make the skirt of separate, finished panels that can be easily reached between. One construction idea for the original paneled skirt idea was to make it as several strips with a waistband that tied around. So now the idea is to use that method, but with deconstructed panels to give a very open skirt but keep with the theme of easily removable. Also imagine all the different panels flaring out when you spin!

Fabric: After Mulberry was posted, we learned more about how Io dresses (or, uh, doesn't), so I started thinking more about the fabric type. I want to balance the surreal (shiny fabrics making a less natural looking appearance, nodding to fae) and the mundane (Io being a less powerful nymph, as opposed to powerful gentry). I'm a little at an impasse for what fabric to use. I love organzas (even though they're mean to me) (it's fine, everything's fine), and I think using a mix of organza and a very light-grade tulle would make an interesting texture for this dress.

Sleeves: Again, this depends on the fabric type, but imagine big billowing sleeves of a transparent mesh fabric with discrete embroidery of mulberry themed elements. Thinking the sleeves will be completely off the shoulder, maybe made with casing and a ribbon tie to keep them at the top of the arm.

Bodice: Also going back to Io's tendency to dress less, using a knit fabric which matches skin tone is one option for the body potion, OR, hear me out, a gentle mesh (that doesn't set off sensory hell!) with exposed boning to make a corset-like top! Then, referencing this post, flower or similar motifs sewn into to chest piece. Another part I'll add is an open back element, with some sort of lacing. This works great for me, because zippers and I are reluctant allies at best.

Overall vibes: Basically, I want this to look like a flower nymph ballet costume, because how fucking cool would that be? Here are some images with elements of the silhouette I'm thinking of:

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Code Words

Read on Ao3

Warnings: references to relapsing, nothing explicit

Pairings: platonic roceit

Word Count: 5184

For several years, Roman Prince has been tasked with taking down a prominent member of the Agency's rival, an underground gang member known only as Deceit. Many sleepless nights, many painful memories, but it would be worth it, right? To take him down?

Well, after bursting into a high-level Agency meeting to see him sitting there, an undercover agent this whole time, nothing seems simple anymore.

What is he supposed to trust now? The Agency that lied to him, or the man whose alias has been deception for as long as Roman's known him?

Roman curls up tighter as he feels tears begin to slip down his face, clinging with razor-blade focus to his red cheeks. Humiliation burns up his throat, his hands aching where his nails are digging into his palms.

A trick.

A trick.

This was all a trick.

He'd been briefed about a villain he needed to stop. He spent years working to bring them down—years of sleepless nights and violence and scars that'll never fully heal—only for the Agency to reveal that it was all a plan, a set-up. A way to get information and the villain was actually working for them the whole time. That Roman was just fucking set dressing.

And how did they find out about this? Oh, only because someone made an off-hand comment about the villain being there and he burst in on a meeting only for everyone to laugh.

They laughed at him.

Didn't help that the supervisors had the most patronizing tone ever as they finally explained. Didn't help that the villain just sat there looking vaguely amused. Didn't help that he was disregarded as soon as he wasn't useful anymore.

So. Here he is. Mortified, humiliated, stupid, stupid.

There's a quiet knock at the door.

"What is it?"

"Hey," comes their voice—hell fucking no— "can I come in?"

"Go away!"

"Remember that favor you owe me from the docks?" The door handle jiggles. "I'm calling it in."

I made that deal with someone who wasn't a liar. That's not true. I made that deal when I thought you were a villain and now that you've humiliated me I don't want to owe you anything anymore. That is true. That's not what comes out of his mouth.

"…fine."

Janus opens the door. It's jarring to see him dressed down, open, vulnerable. Roman glares as hard as he can and it seems to just bounce off.

"I wanted to check on you," he says like it's acceptable, "you…left kind of quickly."

Ran away, he hears and he glares harder. "What do you want?"

"I just said: I wanted to check on you."

"I'm fine. Now go away."

"You've been crying," Janus points out in what's probably supposed to be a kind way, but just makes Roman so much angrier. He whirls around, back to him, fists clenching.

"It's fine."

He hears a sigh. "It's okay that you didn't win, you know."

His teeth grind together. That's what he thinks this is about?

"I know first-hero missions are a lot," he continues, coming closer, "and it can feel like, I don't know, you have to prove your worth or something. But it's okay, you know. You don't have to be ashamed or embarrassed about losing. I've been doing this for a lot longer than you."

Roman hunches his shoulders. Janus is still coming closer.

"I don't know what they told you about me—"

"Nothing."

"Hm?"

"They didn't tell me anything," Roman bites out, "I didn't find out about you—anything until five fucking minutes ago."

"Language."

The fuse that had been burning since he'd been so thoroughly humiliated downstairs runs out. He whips around so fast it sends the papers on his desk scattering, glaring hard enough to melt a hole through steel.

"Don't fucking talk to me about my fucking language," he growls, spittle flying from his lips but he doesn't care, "you don't get to do that. You don't get to act like I'm being unreasonable right now."

He stabs a finger at the door.

"I just fucking found out that the thing I've been doing for years, the person I've been trying to stop for actual fucking years is a goddamn liar and in on some big thing that I didn't fucking know about! I just got fucking humiliated in front of everyone for trying to do the right thing because I was fucking scared!"

His hands are still shaking from the moment he heard that Janus was in the building. He grips his hair to try and stop it.

"Fuck," and his voice starts to crack, "do you even—you fucking hurt me. You tortured me. I couldn't sleep because of you, I fucking relapsed because of you, so you—you do not get to stand there and do that."

He shakes himself, still glaring.

"Maybe you're right, I'm not fucking fine, but that's your fucking fault for doing that to me and everyone else's fucking fault for not telling me shit." He's out of breath by the end of his shouting. "So take your fucking pity and your fucking condescension, and your smug fucking face and get the fuck out."

Janus stands there, expression unreadable, until: "…they didn't tell you?"

Roman's shoulders slump. All of the anger drains out of him and he tries to feebly claw it back. "No. No, they didn't."

Janus inhales sharply. "That's—so that's—so you couldn't—fuck."

"Language," he bites out as Janus pinches the bridge of his nose, eyeing him warily.

"I thought you were a good actor," he mutters after a moment, "but you were just scared. You were actually scared because you thought I would hurt you."

"You did hurt me."

"I know, sweetie, I know, but—" he cuts himself off, taking a deep breath. "Sorry, I'm just—I'm very upset for you right now."

Upset…for him? Not at him?

"There are supposed to be safeguards," Janus explains carefully, "things that prevent situations from escalating and people from getting hurt."

"But only if I know about them."

"But only if you know about them."

And wasn't that just the goddamn hole in the fence.

Roman wraps his arms around himself, trying—and failing, he's sure—to pass it off as crossing his arms angrily. He tries to glare at the floor but his face protests, swollen and strained from crying.

The ache washes over him slowly, building with a patient hopelessness. His head pounds from crying, his eyes are exhausted and swollen, his neck feels like it's made of rebar and the phantom pains tingle all over his body.

And the humiliation still hasn't gone away.

"Can," Janus asks, startling him, "can I hug you?"

Roman blinks. "Can you what?"

Janus opens his arms slowly, exposing his chest, his torso, everything, looking at him with a…a soft expression. "Can I give you a hug?"

Part of Roman screams that this is a trap. He flicks his gaze out to check for syringes, knives, other weapons that are just waiting for a piece of him. A part of him that crawls at the thought of being so close to him again.

The rest of him is just so tired.

Unmistakable relief crosses Janus's expression as he nods, patiently waiting until he's closer to tuck him into his arms. He cradles his head with one hand, pressing it gently into the crook of his neck. Roman can feel his pulse jumping right next to his cheek and he has to swallow the urge to bite. Then Janus's other arm wraps around his shoulders and—

"Hey, hey," Janus murmurs as Roman stiffens, trying not to sniffle too audibly, "it's okay, sweetie. You can cry, it's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."

A sob escapes. An ugly, messy sob and Janus just tucks his head up against Roman's. His breath warms the top of his ear and cheek.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," he whispers, "I'm so sorry. It's going to be okay, I promise."

He doesn't know how long he stands there, blubbering like a baby into Janus's chest. Janus doesn't pull away, still cupping the back of his head and murmuring comforts each time the sobs reach a crescendo.

When they do finally taper off, Roman is drained. He would feel embarrassed about it, but at this point there's nothing left for him to do. He doesn't even have the strength to pull away.

"It's funny," Janus says softly, "I've always wanted to do this."

Roman swallows. "What?"

"This." He gives him a gentle squeeze. "Hug you. You…well, you were always so scared. But you were always trying so hard to be brave and you used to be so small…"

He knows he doesn't imagine the way Janus's grip tightens slightly.

"I wanted to give you a hug," he confesses, his voice a little thick too, "and tell you it was okay. That everything would be okay."

Roman squeezes his eyes shut. He wants to ask more, did Janus know what was going on? Did Janus mean anything he said? But before he can convince his throat to cooperate, his legs start to wobble.

"Here," Janus says, quickly yet gently guiding him to sit, "can I get you a glass of water?"

Roman makes a non-committal noise and Janus disappears into the bathroom, coming back with a glass. He regards it with skepticism as Janus sits.

"Here," Janus says, taking a sip, "see? Just water, I promise."

Roman takes the glass and silently drinks half of it.

"Good job, sweetie." He leans forward, elbows on his knees. "I…understand if you'd rather not be near me right now, but…can we talk?"

"If I say no, will you leave?"

"You reserve the right to throw me out of this room at any moment."

"How many times did I tell you to get the fuck out and you didn't?"

Janus winces. "I know. I'm sorry, I didn't—I didn't know what was going on."

The urge to tell him to get the fuck out, then is strong. Cruel and sharp words rise to the tip of his tongue that he wants to spit out too, make Janus hurt like he's been hurting for years, but he doesn't.

"…if I tell you to leave now, do you promise to?"

"Yes."

He shifts, pulling his leg up a little more. "Then we can talk."

"Thank you," Janus says quietly, "thank you, sweetie."

He sits up a little, still braced on one arm.

"What did they tell you?"

Roman takes another drink. "That you were a new member of the gang. That you needed to be stopped before—before something bad happened."

"But nothing about me being undercover?" Roman shakes his head. Janus's jaw clenches for a moment. "What about the codes?"

"…codes?"

"Code phrases, yes. Ones that would've meant that you were compromised, or I was compromised, or…"

Something dark flickers across his expression for a minute before he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

"…or if it's getting to be too much."

Oh.

Oh.

"I-I was—" Roman swallows— "I was supposed to have a way out?"

"Yes, sweetie," Janus says softly with quiet devastation, "you were supposed to have a way out. I—I never had to use any of them and I guess I…I assumed that you didn't either. But you didn't know them."

"No."

He nods, jaw clenching again. "And you…you said you relapsed?"

Shaking hands, shaky breath, it's dark. It's quiet. It hurts and it won't stop—

"Stay with me, sweetie." He indicates the glass. "Drink a bit more, you're still dehydrated."

He gulps down the water on autopilot. The glass is still cool to the touch. He takes a deep breath. "Yes. I relapsed. It was bad."

Janus closes his eyes for a minute, head bowing. For long seconds, neither of them move.

A cloud passes over the window. Footsteps and the low murmur of conversation pass by in the hall.

Janus slowly raises his head. "Who briefed you?"

"What?"

"The name," he says firmly and Roman flinches.

He's back in that warehouse. He's bleeding—it's so cold—

"Shit," he hears distantly. Janus scrubs a hand over his face. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm not mad at you, sweetie, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm—I want to get this sorted out. I didn't mean to scare you."

Roman swallows. "I know."

"I can be gentle with you," he continues, smiling slightly when Roman fails to hide the hope that crosses his face, "I've just spent too long being a mean, unrepentant asshole, I'm very much looking forward to not having to anymore."

"…yeah?"

"Yes, sweetie."

He might…he might be okay with that.

"The reason I asked who briefed you is because I'm going to go talk to them after this. They need to be held responsible for not telling you. This could've been so much worse and it's already bad enough."

Roman shuffles, almost curling into a ball. "They're not going to like that."

"I don't like my partner getting traumatized and terrified to the point of relapse either, so they're just going to have to deal with it."

"…partner?"

"Yes, sweetie." He smiles again. "We were assigned to the same mission, that makes us partners."

"…oh." Roman nods toward his desk. "Their name is over there."

Janus gets up and he hears him shuffle a few papers around before the chair creaks as he sits down again.

"Hey." Roman looks up. "I don't expect you to suddenly be fine with me. I hurt you and nothing I do or say will change that. You are entitled to deal with your trauma and cope with it as best you can. I'm not going to be upset if it takes you some time to be okay with me, alright?"

"…okay."

"I'll go be mad and scary at the people who deserve it, not you."

"You are scary."

Janus chuckles. "I know, sweetie. But I'll try my best not to be scary to you anymore, okay?"

"Okay."

He hesitates for a moment before sighing. "I have to ask…was there any point, at all over these past years where you thought that maybe I was—that I wasn't just the bad guy?"

…one.

***

    "Oh, Janus! I didn't know you were going to be around here for the holidays! Are you going to be in the area for a while? How are you? Please, come in, come in, you must meet Roman!"

In the other room, Roman froze. His heart stuttered. After all his careful planning, with everything going on, it couldn't…

He surged to his feet, reaching the hall just in time to see the villain offer his mother a friendly smile and a hug. Relatives flocked to greet him, happy, all warm curiosity and questions, as if this were normal.

His mother turned, her face lighting up as she saw him. "Ah, there you are! Come here, there's someone I want you to meet—"

Roman gaped. What—how…?

"Actually," the villain broke in softly, "we've already met."

"You know each other?"

"In a manner of speaking," the villain said, smiling slightly, "Roman's a friend from work."

Friend, Roman wanted to scoff, but his throat worked against the word and he swallowed. "What," he managed to gasp out, "are you doing here?"

"Dinner," his mother was saying, "you absolutely must stay for dinner."

"Yes," one of the other relatives began to clamor, soon the whole room joining them, "stay, stay!"

"If you insist," the villain demurred, the picture of propriety, "as long as it's not an imposition."

"Never."

"At least let me help—"

"Absolutely not," his mother said, "I forbid it. In fact, why don't you go for a walk around the neighborhood? It's so pretty with all the snow…yes, that's what you'll do. Roman, you show him around."

The villain looked up and the two locked eyes. He raised an eyebrow and gestured toward the door, smile sharpening as his mother watched expectantly.

Roman swallows. "…sure."

And that was how he finds himself outside in the now, walking around the neighborhood with the villain like some ordinary people showing each other around at the eve of the holidays.

"This is a really nice neighborhood," the villain remarked as they strolled, "did you grow up here?"

Roman didn't say anything. The villain knocked their elbows together.

"Roman?"

"What are you doing here," Roman ground out, "what do you want?"

"So frosty," the villain mused, "maybe you should go back inside if it's too cold for you."

Roman snarled, whirling on him but before he could do anything, the villain grabbed his wrist, twisted it away, and had a hand around his throat. He gasped as the grip tightened slightly.

"None of that, now," the villain said lowly, "we don't want to make a scene, do we?"

"How did you find me," Roman rasped out, "how did you find out about my family?"

"I know everything about you," the villain said softly, turning Roman's head back and forth like he was examining an interesting piece of art, "I know where you live, I know your parents, and I know about the secrets you've tried so hard to keep buried."

Roman's eyes widened. He held his breath. The villain looked at him a moment longer before he snorted.

"I'm teasing," he chuckled, "I met your mother at the grocery store the other day while she was shopping. She asked me to help her carry things to her car."

Roman's face contorted and he tried to lunge forward but the hand on his throat stopped him.

"Shh, now," the villain murmured, "we can be done now. You're very threatening and you've done a lovely job, I'm very impressed, but let's be done for now."

"Oh, you two look lovely!"

Roman's head whipped around as his neighbor smiled at him, adjusting her glasses as the villain's hand smoothly adjusted to fix his scarf instead. He forced a smile.

"You two look like a postcard," the old woman says, "have a good walk!"

"Thank you," Roman said, quickly grabbing the villain's arm and starting to walk down the street, "you too."

The villain watched, bemused, as Roman guided them down the street. He glanced down and cocked a brow.

"You're welcome," Roman grumbled.

"Why didn't you say anything," he asked, "you could've called for help."

And you could've killed them, Roman didn't say, so he shrugged. As long as he could keep the villain out of his house, away from his family…

"Sweetie," the villain chuckled, "you are about as subtle as a freight train."

Roman hunched his shoulders. "You've never been interrogated by her."

"Oh?"

"Now that's torture."

"I'll take your word for it."

They walked on. Roman couldn't help but sneak glances at the villain. He did look good, the long black coat, the blood-red scarf…it suited him. He looked like he could be in a magazine campaign or something.

"You're staring," came the villain's soft voice. Roman glanced up to see him smirking and he looked away, cheeks burning as the villain chuckled.

He kept his gaze on the ground as they walked, trying to pretend that this was just a walk. Just a walk, in the snow, at his home. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Just a walk. Just a walk.

The neighborhood really was beautiful. Snow on the pine trees, fairy lights glittering in the soft afternoon. Red and green, blue and yellow, pink and purple. Silver and gold edging along the eaves, snow drifting down from the great empty sky.

A camera clicked behind him.

He turned, mouth open in surprise. The villain stood a few paces back, phone aimed at him as he took another picture.

"Your neighbor was right," he said, walking closer and holding out the phone, "you really do look like a postcard."

Roman's hands trembled as he took the phone. His eyes widened as he looked.

He—he did. He looked like he was on some photoshoot. His hair blew in the wind, his coat looked perfect against the snow. His expression as he looked over his shoulder looked like he was waiting for a partner to catch up. The moment was…perfect.

"I think your mother might want a copy," the villain said softly, "don't you?"

It was too much.

Tears brimmed in his eyes as the emotion welled up, his throat closed. His vision grew cloudy and he glared up at the villain, wondering how he could be so cruel.

But he wasn't cruel. He looked at Roman as if in shock, mouth open, eyes wide. He started toward him.

"R-Roman—"

"Shame on you," another voice said as the old neighbor from further down the street neared them, "for making your nephew cry."

He pointed a stern finger at the villain.

"You make this right with them, sonny," he ordered in a voice that would have been funny had Roman not been crying, "it's bad luck to spend your holidays crying, you hear."

Roman closed his eyes as the crunch of the old neighbor's footsteps passed by. "Let's just keep going."

He hadn't expected the phone to be carefully replaced with a tissue, nor did he expect the villain to carefully cup his shoulders.

"I'm sorry," the villain murmured, sounding genuinely regretful, "I didn't mean to make you cry."

The old man can still hear us. He's just playing the role of a guilty partner. He blew his nose with a despondent honk.

"I didn't even know she was your mother," he continued, "not until she…"

Roman dabbed at his face, huffing a laugh. "I don't think I look much like a postcard anymore."

A gentle hand under his chin. "It looks alright to me," the villain said, "just that you've been out in the cold for a little too long. Still a pretty postcard."

"You think?"

"Yeah," the villain said softly, "I do."

He blinked, suddenly realizing the intimate position they were in. HE pulled back, balling up the tissue and stuffing it into his pocket.

"Um, thanks," he mumbled, "for the tissue."

"Sure."

"Here," he offered, thrusting his hand out for the villain's phone, "let me return the favor."

The villain raised an eyebrow. "You…want to take my picture?"

"Can't just have one postcard."

He blinked, fumbling to get his phone back out and handing it over. "How do you want me?"

"I—um—"

The villain chuckled as Roman glanced around. He spotted a bench that had only a little snow on it.

"Over there."

"The bench?"

"Mhm." The villain walked over, tucking his coat up to sit comfortably. "Yeah, just there."

Roman held up the phone, taking a few pictures as the villain adjusted. When he'd finished making himself comfortable, he folded his hands and leaned forward.

"Should I pose?"

"Just stay like that." He snapped a shot. "Perfect."

"You should be a photographer," he laughed as Roman crouched down to get a better angle.

"I don't think I have the patience for it."

"You seem to be doing pretty well right now."

Roman was about to reply when he caught sight of the villain's soft smile on the screen. The sort of smile he'd seen in movies, or ad campaigns, or anywhere except the villain's face.

He swallowed and took the picture before his hands started to shake.

"Here," he muttered, passing back the phone, "have a look."

The villain took it and whistled lowly, scrolling through the photos. "This is how you see me?"

"It's how the camera saw you."

He huffed. "I've never been this photogenic before."

"Really?" He bit his lip when the villain looked up, raising an eyebrow. "You seemed like you knew what you were doing."

The villain glanced around. "Maybe it's the neighborhood. Makes everything look like a Hallmark movie or something."

A laugh escapes before Roman can stop it. "Maybe they should film one up here. Do some cliche plot that checks off all the marketing boxes and makes all those studio executives and holiday movie-goers happy."

"Yeah," the villain said quietly, "something like that."

Roman looked back, his breath caught in his throat.

The villain was smiling at him again, but he didn't have the camera between them this time. The face that had only ever smirked and grinned at him across gnashing teeth and biting remarks was smiling, as though he was…happy. To be here, with…with Roman.

Like he wanted to be.

In the midst of his pondering, however, he missed the mischief that flickered across the villain's expression before he reached out and pulled Roman onto the bench.

"Whoa—hey!"

Roman tumbled forward, arms flying out to catch himself as he almost fell into the villain's lap. The villain laughed at his undignified sprawl, the camera shutter clicking again just as Roman looked up, making him freeze, still halfway across the bench.

"Did you just—"

The villain lowered the phone, showing them the photo. "Now that's the postcard."

They looked. The villain smiled cheekily at the camera, his arm around Roman to hold him on the bench. He looked like a child too pleased with himself for getting away with something. Roman's face was a breathless smile too, looking up just as he fell. He looked…happy, a child-like wonder he hadn't seen in years shining in his eyes.

He was still pressed against the villain, he realized. The villain's arm was heavy and warm and snug around him, keeping him from falling off the bench. His chest was solid and firm against his side, close enough that he could feel the way it moved as the villain breathed. If he just looked up, he could feel his breath on his face.

He didn't realize his head was moving until he was staring at the villain's profile. The snow drifted down and around them, landing in his hair, on his cheeks, on his collar. It looked soft. He looked…soft.

"See," the villain said quietly, indicating the photo, "it just looks like you've been out in the cold for a while and you've got a cute little red nose."

He looked over at Roman. Their eyes met.

"What do you think?"

They stared at each other for a moment. They were so close.

Abruptly, Roman pulled away, glancing at the photo one more time. He tugged his coat tighter around himself. "We should get back. Dinner's probably almost ready."

Without waiting for a response, he started walking back toward the house. After a few moments, he heard the footsteps and turned to see the villain out of the corner of his eye. They walked in silence for a while.

"…did you really not know it was my mother?"

The villain glanced at him. "No, I didn't."

When they arrived at the front of the house, the villain pulled him to a stop. He reached out and fiddled with Roman's scarf, adjusting it to put it back in place. When he finished, he looked up.

"Do you want me to go," he asked quietly, "I don't…you should…I want the dinner to be nice."

Roman glanced up at the house. "I think Mom would throw a fit if you didn't come in."

His mother loved the photos. She clamored for copies, saying it was a shame they didn't give them in time to be holiday cards. The dinner was…nice. Surreal, yes, strange, but nice.

He walked the villain out afterward. It was dark as they stepped outside, light snow still falling. The villain paused as they turned on the stoop.

"Thank you for dinner."

"Thank Mom," Roman mumbled, "I think she likes you more than me."

"I'm sure that's not true."

Roman hugged himself tighter, missing the way the villain's expression twitched.

"But I do have to thank you," they said, stepping closer, "because I know if you really didn't want me there, you would've kicked my ass."

"If you had tried to hurt my mom or my family, I would have," Roman said, even though it didn't sound like a threat.

The villain smiled. "I know."

They stood in silence for a moment, the snow creating a hushed bubble of intimacy. The villain glanced around as a slight gust of wind blew snowflakes toward them.

"Really is like a Hallmark movie, huh?"

"Mhm." Roman looked at him, standing there on the porch. An odd rush of lightness opened his mouth again. "Get home…okay."

He turned to go back inside before this got any weirder when a hand caught his wrist. He looked back as—

The villain leaned close and kissed his cheek, perfectly chaste, lingering for just a moment as warm breath fanned across his face.

"Happy holidays, little hero," the villain whispered before turning and walking down the street.

Roman watched him go, his silhouette fading in the streetlights, one hand on his face to feel where the kiss had been mere moments ago.

***

    "…when you came for dinner," he mumbles, staring at the floor.

Janus makes a noise of recognition. "Your mother is a truly amazing cook."

"Thanks."

Another moment passes.

"It makes sense why you were so scared," he continues, still speaking softly, "and why…well."

"Why what?"

"Why you looked so shocked when I wasn't hurting you."

"Well, yeah. And then you fucking kissed me."

Janus winces. "Sorry about that."

"Why did you do that, exactly?"

He sighs. "Because, sweetie, you were very scared that day and you finally relaxed."

"That doesn't mean you fucking kiss me."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Also I don't believe you."

He frowns. "About what?"

"That that's why you kissed me."

"Sweetie—"

"No," Roman growls, trying not to look too much like a wounded animal and probably failing, "you owe me the truth."

"I do," Janus says quietly, looking away for a moment before taking a deep breath. "You didn't really acknowledge…this," he says, gesturing between them, "and I wanted—this wasn't long after I'd—"

Roman tenses and he backs off immediately.

"Right, after that, and I—I wanted to apologize for it in some way. But you weren't bringing it up and I didn't want to cross that line, not with your family right there, not with the holidays so close, and so…I had to find a different way."

"So you kissed me."

"So I kissed you."

"Was it actually a code?"

"No." Janus shakes his head. "No code, no nothing, just…just me."

Roman's quiet for a while. Then: "you're really going to go and yell at the person who didn't brief me properly?"

"Ideally, I want to bring the agency down on their head, but yes, I'm going to go yell at them."

"I-if you do decide to do…more, can you…will you warn me first?"

"Sweetie, I'm not going to do anything unless you want it too. If it were up to me, I'd have whoever this is locked up for life, but it didn't just happen to me, it happened to you too, and that means you get as much of a say as I do. More, even, because it hurt you worse than it hurt me."

"Okay."

"Yeah?"

Roman nods, watching as Janus gets up. He glances over his shoulder just as he leaves.

"And if anyone, and I mean anyone, tries to give you a hard time about what happened," he says, "will you come and tell me right away?"

"Will you be scary at them?"

"If that's what you want."

"…okay. I will."

Janus smiles and closes the door softly behind him. He rests against it for just a moment, giving himself one last second to be sorry he couldn't protect Roman from all of this, before he takes out his phone.

"Logan? Hey, yeah. I need your help."

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[a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire]

Alright, holidays are over and Im regularly taking the bus again so its time to read A Court of Mist and Fury. I've made through the prologue and the first three chapters and I feel like I already have a lot of thoughts so Im splitting them into two posts. This one is just gonna be random silly bullshit that I wanted to mention but dont have any deep thoughts on, the next one is gonna be my thoughts about the character development that happened between the books

why does Sarah J Maas always seem to use the vaguely pagan (?) moon and moon cycle imagery when theres like, an all-woman religious institution in her books. Like, Ianthe has that tattoo on her forehead and shes dressed in blue robes and wears a lot of silver and it reminded me of that one random aside in Crescent City where we hear about those priestesses that worship the goddess Luna, like with the robes and headbands and stuff, when theyre first initiated they get a headband with a waxing crescent moon, then when theyre at their peak they get one with a full moon and when they get older they get one with a waning crescent. Like, obviously I know that the moon is associated with with witchcraft and feminine magic and whatnot so it makes sense in a doylist sense, but like, whats the in-universe explanation

You know what, maybe I do have deep thoughts about some of this stuff, what the hell is up with the High Priestesses? Theres twelve of them ?? for some reason?? Theyre said to be the advisors of the high lords on top of their religious duties, so if there were gonna be more than seven, I would think there would be 14, two for each court. But they actually appear to be wholly seperate, like they just dont belong to any particular court. And thats weird to me, but Prythian is technically one united kingdom (get it, cuz the map looks like fucking great britain for some reason) despite some of their inter-court tension so maybe that makes sense. But then WHY do they have such a Night Court-core aesthetic, wearing dark blue (night sky) and silver (stars) with tattoos. If they were an institution thats completely seperate from the courts, I feel like they should use imagery/an aesthetic thats not already kinda taken by another court. Like, idk, rainbows maybe, thats the only thing I can think of rn and it could also make them a symbol of Prythian's unity or something

This is only tangentially related, but how come the Night Court doesnt seem to have any moon imagery associated with it? I say seem to because I havent actually seen it yet, but from the fanart and from what I can remember from cari can read's summary, its all stars and darkness and dreams but not the moon??? which is the thing I personally associate most with night but okay

I was not expecting a sex scene in the first three chapters and I was especially not expecting Feyre to describe her having an orgasm as "I passed away". Granted, that might just be the german translation being weird, I dont have access to the original english but still. Then again, I guess they dont call it the little death for nothing

Speaking of the sex scene, I thought the people saying this were joking but no, she was literally asking him about the political implications of their marriage on some random ass night while they were getting it on, thats hilarious. And then she got TURNED OFF when Tamlin told her there werent any high ladies this series shouldve been a comedy

Last thing I wanted to mention is the use of the formal and informal yous in the translation, which is still really good. As a reminder, du/dir = informal you; Sie/Ihnen = formal you; Euch/Ihren = the most formal you, usually reserved for nobility. Feyre used Euch/Ihren for all the high fae in the first book (atleast for the first half, I havent really kept track of the pronoun usuage), Tamlin and Lucien used du/dir for Feyre, Alis used Euch/Ihren for Feyre. In this book, all the servants still refer to her by Euch/Ihren but Feyre, Tamlin and Lucien are all on a du/dir basis with each other now. Also, Feyre uses Euch/Ihren for Ianthe and honestly, that alone says so much about how important she is within the court, I feel like I didnt even need an explanation of what exactly she does, but this book was written in english qhere they dont have that so I get it

[adultswim2021]

Tim and Eric Awesome Show Great Job #17: “Robin” | January 7, 2008 - 12:15AM | S02E07

This could be my least favorite episode of the series so far, which is really too bad. The Robin wraparound, in which Eric buys Tim his own Robin Williams, is funny and quite memorable. Everything else is sorta middling for various reasons. In that wraparound, Robin is played by David Born, who is a noted Robin Williams impersonator. He has a pretty legit career as a character and voice actor. Recently some friends and I spotted him in the Chuck Norris/Jonathan Brandis film Sidekicks, which featured him in a minor role. We all thought he looked familiar and looked him up, shocked to see that he was the titular Robin from this episode. 

Tim and Eric’s comedy is sorta interesting in that it seems like it’s fairly good at not relying on specific cultural references almost at all. But they also love bad celebrity impersonators, which indirectly is a cultural reference in of itself. Some people might be too young to know who Robin Williams is at all. It’s important to know that Robin was often derided by other comics but they’d usually take it all back after meeting him; by all accounts he was one of the nicest guys in the world.

The annoying hyperactive persona on display here is pretty accurate. But the ending (featuring a cameo from Keith Crawford, I think?) where Robin shows up to give Tim & Eric a thumbs up for reuniting and doing their thing on stage is also very accurate; he was indeed a fan of comedy, and sought out things that were cutting-edge. I do believe that he liked Tim & Eric and I vaguely recall Tim talking about meeting him and having a very positive experience.

Going further back, if you watch Bob Odenkirk and David Cross’ sketches on Comic Relief, they are notably a cut above what anyone else was doing on that show. But Billy Crystal and Whoopi Goldberg would furrow their brow and act like what they did was too weird too be funny. I remember Whoopi shaking her head after their sketch and saying “I must be getting old.” Robin was the outlier in being supportive of those guys, and was clearly a fan.

When I saw the Comedians of Comedy Show in San Francisco, I was hanging out in line with some friends. While driving in, I did what my mom always does, which is point to the hillside where Robin Williams house was. “You know Robin Williams lives over there” I said, mocking my mother unnecessarily. Naturally, Robin became a running topic on that trip. For some reason I started reminiscing about a particular ad advertising Burger King toys for the film Jumanji. This involved me imitating the ad, which cried the name of the movie over and over. As I was doing this, Robin fucking Williams speed-walked past me and got in line for the show. He was just there to be a comedy fan, and some dipshit is screaming the name of one his movies, completely gratuitously. A hilarious coincidence, sure. But man, I felt like a schmuck. I ain’t trying to make Robin Williams feel weird about attending the same show I am!

As for the rest of this episode: we got Dressed to Impress, which is a decent Dougpound bit. We got Dunngeon, which features Richard Dunn in a mesh shirt interviewing Dave Navarro. Dave plays his part pretty straight, and you almost wanna believe that when he gets up and leaves in the middle of the sketch that it’s a genuine moment. The outtakes on the DVD show him giggling during the shooting, so I wouldn’t take it too seriously. Tim & Eric play a German goth band. It’s not very strong; in fact I forgot these characters ever existed.

There’s Demons, which is a hidden camera prank thing that sorta devolves to a point where it didn’t really need to be a hidden camera prank. Tim & Eric hold auditions for a fake horror movie and over-laugh at a mild gaffe and then share an awkward group hug with, I believe, Stephanie Courtney, acting as another producer. This bit isn’t very satisfying. I remember promos making use of this footage in a more effective way, featuring footage of the actors acting scary that wasn’t in the actual episode. They end it with a clip of Will Forte from season one gently saying “I’m a demon”, a line I was never super fond of. Brandon please don’t put that on our discord soundboard. Please. 

Noted wad Rainn Wilson appears in a sketch about an Encyclopedia that just lists numbers. Honestly, this is an okay sketch. But my aversion to Rainn Wilson is just too strong. I don’t want misery inflicted on anyone, but I would experience significant schadenfreude if he were to ever be found out to be a despicable human being. I envision white supremacist compound for him, with maybe a smattering of sex trafficking. I’m not saying I’ve heard anything; I’m unfairly profiling him based on finding his personality abrasive in interviews. I remember growing to despise him while listening to The Office DVD commentary tracks. Why the fuck was I listening to The Office DVD commentary tracks, anyway? I believe both Rainn Wilson and the Dunngeon set (I’ll be surer when I see the episode again) gets reused in Tim & Eric Nite Live.

Pound for pound, this might be the weakest episode yet. But it’s far from worthless.

EPHEMERA CORNER

New Year’s First on the First (January 1, 2008)

On January 1st, Adult Swim did a cool marathon where they played the first episode of each of their shows in reverse chronological order of when they aired. This included a rebroadcast of the original Brak Show pilot “Leave It to Brak”, which was later reworked into “Mr. Bawk Ba Gawk”. The pilot version had drawn backgrounds instead of photo-realistic ones. This was the first time they aired this pilot on Adult Swim proper. It’s original airing was a stealth showing on Cartoon Network, before Adult Swim was a thing.

Notably, they sometimes swapped the first-aired episode for the first-produced episode. Also I can pick out a few things where they didn’t seem to always go by strict reverse chronological order, at least not by air date. Here’s the schedule (as always, thank you swimpedia):

11:00 Fat Guy Stuck in Internet: Threshold

11:15 The Drinky Crow Show: Mermaid

11:30 Superjail!: Bunny Love

11:45 That Crook'd 'Sipp: That Tree of Strife

12:00 Xavier: Renegade Angel: What Life D-D-Doth

12:15 Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job!: Dads

12:30 Saul of the Mole Men: A New Friend

12:45 Assy McGee: Murder by the Docks

1:00 Frisky Dingo: Meet Killface

1:15 Metalocalypse: The Curse of Dethklok

1:30 Moral Orel: The Lord's Greatest Gift

1:45 Minoriteam: Operation Blackout!

2:00 Lucy, the Daughter of the Devil: He's Not the Messiah, He's a DJ

2:15 12 oz. Mouse: Hired

2:30 Squidbillies: This Show Is Called Squidbillies

2:45 Robot Chicken: The Deep End

3:00 Tom Goes to the Mayor: Bear Traps

3:15 Perfect Hair Forever: Perfect Hair Forever

3:30 Stroker & Hoop: C.A.R.R. Trouble (a.k.a. Feelin' Dirty)

4:00 The Venture Bros.: The Terrible Secret of Turtle Bay (Director's Cut)

4:30 Aqua Teen Hunger Force: Rabbot

4:45 Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law: Bannon Custody Battle

5:00 Sealab 2021: I, Robot

5:15 The Brak Show: Leave It to Brak*

5:30 Space Ghost Coast to Coast: Spanish Translation

5:45 Space Ghost Coast to Coast: Gilligan

[intrepidradish]

Ooooh hell let's talk about Grayza too. She's awful! I don't know which writer left the table for this character to escape containment without a single sympathetic angle. It's like a bunch of men brainstormed for 5 minutes on what an example of a fascist sexually liberated woman would look like and created a tits out woman with pencil thin brows. (Being that I know a few doms with pencil thin brows even twenty years after the 00s, that's the only accurate part of her portrayal and it does make my blood run cold. Nice work.)

But let's humor the concept for a moment, they didn't even commit to the bit. This is Farscape! The definition of committing to the bit. If Grayza is a dominant woman that seduces her underlings with the pheromone trope, than how come she doesn't have Meeklo in a speedo? How come everyone is fully clothed? If we're going to reference the raunchy, fear-of-powerful-woman, sci fi tropes here, how come she doesn't carry a whip? How come she's not attended to by sexually slaves? Literal zombies, yaknow?

They could have really taken it up a notch. She could have been a horse girl (references the female cop tropes too). Jim Henson alien horse puppets? The fucking balls of a woman to have a huge pet on a command carrier. She could've delivered her weird pheromone through a heel spur (foot fetish). She could've had her male slaves dressed for ponyplay. She could've seduced women too. She could've had like vacuum beds and kept her slaves organized for her whims. Like jeezus. Just commit to the bit.

But if we don't humor the idea of Grayza, what's her deal? Okay, so in the 60s when a lot of men were writing science fiction stories, rape and women were a pretty oft talked about phenomena. A lot of these stories theorized that in a sexually free society, where women stopped being so fucking frigid, rape simply wouldn't exist. MAGIC SPARKLES. Because, of course, in the minds of some dudes, sexual violence simply doesn't happen to men (wrong) and the issue with rape is not an issue of autonomy but an issue of culture (also wrong). We have rape in our society because we aren't free thinking enough about fucking everyone nasty. Uh-huh. Okay. Very wrong.

Right, so this is actually fun stuff to reference in modern sci fi because it is so laughably stupid. But Farscape doesn't really tackle it. It only introduces it, and then drops it entirely. In the first episode of season 4, Chiana finds Crichton on Elac, and admits that she tested her future sight by gambling, was caught, brutalized, and raped. Oh. That's terrible! Crichton doesn't really care. Okay. Hm. The only time this is referenced again is when Chiana is acting aggressive to others and Crichton is like "oh give her some space." ... Okay. Well, I find that vaguely disappointing of everyone.

This rolls into Arnessk, which is all about rape. Crichton is raped that's pretty clear. I've spoken a little about Scorpius's abuse too. I don't think people view Grayza's treatment of him as rape, but in the kink community, just because someone likes torture and pain doesn't mean they enjoy it from everyone. I think its pretty sad that Scorpius gets tortured, is like 'this is fine because I'm enjoying it', and then he gets all his motor controls taken away with drugs. I'm not sure I can call it rape, but it is a violation, and it can be considered a sexual one knowing that he often experiences pleasure from pain. I know the kink aspect gets confusing for some people, because 'well he said he liked it' but... I also think Scorpius makes do with terrible situations and has his entire life. Just because someone can manage trauma (can he? has he) doesn't mean he should continue to experience it.

Uuuh, so. Crichton also doesn't get any time to process his rape...at all...? He gets a drug from Noranti to forget about Aeryn, but... wouldn't it make more sense, from a storytelling point of view, to interweave that harrowing experience with Grayza into why he might be distant from Aeryn? Instead, maybe he's drugging himself to cope? Instead, it's just ignored, and the fear Crichton had for Scorpius (his abuses are numerous) is never the same fear he has for Grayza (always deferring to the fear of getting caught but never the fear of having his mind taken away).

We never get much insight into Scorpius, since he doesn't share feelings, but it's also a constant theme in this season that he exposes himself to pain, bad situations, death because he can handle it. Even when those situations do hurt him (and not in like a sexy fun way either). No one questions this. It is seen as pretty helpful...*narrows eyes*

In Twice Shy, a woman who is being sexually abused by traders is taken on Moya. It turns out she's another spider lady, and she's eating people. This is a weird one too. This is also the only time Chiana kisses another woman (do it more, you cowards). The sexual victim turned dangerous predator is another one of those old pulp fiction tropes. Just a disappointing episode when viewed in this transparent light. The spider dies, etc etc.

Throughout all of this, Grayza doesn't get any more depth. She's seen using Braca a few times. She doesn't even have sex with him, just lies that they did, but why? Why. Why. Why. Make her scary or something? Do anything with her. But no.

Lots of thoughts this morning.

[no-vamos]

Hiya guys

I’m confused and vaguely upset unfortunately

I have no actual proof that CB likes me back or likes me at all (not platonically, my bsf reassures me that we’re at least friends I suppose)

unfortunately for me i keep romanticizing him and hoping for interactions that could lead to something more

and they just don’t happen

and then i’m sad

but i’m trying to think of the good interactions

bc it’s not like i didn’t interact with him at all

what didn’t happen were interactions that he initiated

and that kinda hurts ngl

i mean he responded when i asked him questions and stuff

but nothing he said to me first without me prompting anything

so basically what happened today was it was an all day robotics day

which meant all the robotics kids got to skip all their classes and work on robotics projects in the shop (bc they’re all super behind)

i am not a robotics girlie, but he is and so are some of my friends

however i have 1 actually study hall and then a longish lunch period and then my last class of the day was an unofficial study hall bc my teacher left early bc she was feeling unwell

so i spent all three of those periods in the shop

originally i was just with my friends

i eventually migrated over to where CB was working at

there were other people there too so I also talked to them

but he’s just so

observant

he watches me with such intensity idk

there was this one moment where I forget what I said but he like half smiled and then some guys next to us ask him a question and his face dropped

and for some reason that made me giddy inside a bit

what made me particularly sad was I had anticipated him talking to me during art club bc he did last time i was out in the hallway working

but there were a lot more people in the hall today so he didn’t come over to me

i went over to him at one point but it was more interaction with a group of people that included him rather than 1 on 1

during my 1st block i made fun of the way my bsf bf gives me the stink eye whenever i vaguely refer or interact with CB

i think more out of exasperation with me rather than general concern for CB but idk

there’s also the whole, we’re going to be working on a sermon together with our youth pastor and we’re currently trying to organize a time to discuss the details and the entire time my brain is going “omg this is basically a date wtfffff” when no the fuck it isn’t but idk

i’ve decided tho that i’m not going to anticipate any more reactions

i’m not going to go out of my way to interact with him

if he’s where i am then i’ll interact

but i want him to approach me

mostly so i reassure myself i’m not going insane and completely hallucinating interactions that aren’t there

but idk i just want a sign

a sign i’m not going crazy and i’m not going to get hurt

i probably still will tho

oh what also sucks is that i’m missing my schools homecoming semi formal

i for some reason was under the impression that i would be home in time from a trip to still attend

like i turned in my permission form and everything

but nope

my flight is that night not the night prior

so i’m missing it

this is not CB related bc i can most definitely assure you he would not be there

he’s not really a people person

but i was really looking forward to this event to hang out with friends and get dressed up and the like

but idk my emotions are wack and i haven’t slept well all week so i’m kinda sad and drained and life is just a lot rn

[manslaught]

there's a reason mikayla wasn't planning on going to the reunion at all— she knew the type of questions they'd all get asked, the type of question she would get asked specifically. she knew how to handle it, how to remind all of them that they should still fear her, the same way they did back in high school. but it felt more satisfying watching taissa defend her, even if it caught her off guard, having not believed her when she told her that she did before— and maybe that's why she's not ridden with the same anger in her presence that she's felt the last few times. it's still there, of course, but it's weaker, less intense.

instinctually, mikayla glances down at her dress, as if she hadn't bought it intentionally to get some sort of reaction out of tai— and she hated herself for it, especially when she kept declining her wife's calls the entire time, ignoring every single text. “ just the dress? ” it feels like something she would have said when she was younger, desperate for any compliment from her specifically. “ you look good, too. just didn't think i was allowed to say it. ” good feels like an immense understatement, but she needs to be casual about it, like her heart isn't racing every time she so much as looks in tai's direction.

“ god, fuck no. ” mikayla knows tai means more than just the school, but she doesn't want to think about how hopeless she felt the last couple decades, convinced she'd never see tai again. she knows this is likely the end, because the blackmailer is dealt with, dead, which means mikayla's expected to put tai in her past all over again, as if it didn't kill her the first time. “ it's kind of weird, seeing you here and not having to pretend like i fucking hate you. ” but it still feels similar, because in high school, she had to hide her real feelings, act like she didn't want to be with taissa— and that's what she's doing now, twenty-five years later.

she figures that this is the end, feeling more certain about it than she had weeks ago in tai's car, so she wants to say something— a lot of things, really, ranging from asking her why her wife isn't here with her, a question she doesn't actually want to hear the answer to, to getting some kind of closure, finally. “ i wanted to say sorry. for, uh— convincing myself i never meant anything to you. it wasn't... fair, i guess. to you. and to— i don't know, the people we were back then. ” mikayla's not sure if she would have gotten there without being forced to look at photographs of them then, if she didn't spend all night seeing that taissa did still care, that she still remembered. “ i was just— confused. and hurt. and it was the most simple explanation i could come up with. ” most simple, but not the easiest, because it took years to accept it, only for her to realize now that it wasn't true at all.

“ we were just kids. so we were stupid. maybe you more than me, for once, ” she adds the last part with a sad smile, having to drop her gaze to the ground to keep her eyes from watering, her throat clearing. “ i know i don't actually owe you an apology, but... i owe it to them— ” mikayla gestures vaguely toward a picture of the team, clearly only referring to them, even if that's not entirely accurate, either, because the girls in that picture had no idea about everything that was about to happen to them, either.

░ she prepared for this to be a long day, but not because of the way it eventually turned out. her schedule was filled with press conferences and last minute efforts to meet the voters and secure her win — all of which was left behind with no real explanation immediately upon getting shauna's call. one dreadful situation had been handled, albeit messily — a dead body, an awkward conversation with the ex girlfriend she'd prepared to never see again, and one 6-foot hole later, this was not the place she wanted to spend her night after the day she had. she'd ignored every invitation to school reunions before, knowing exactly how they'd turn out: this was worse than the usual questions from strangers, because these are people who believed they knew them once, who were left behind in their absence. and they seem to have a lot to say now— none of which tai is interested in entertaining, especially when it comes to assumptions they've come up with for @warpainte.

she's not actually interested in a walk down memory lane --- she's just not all that interested in returning to an empty house, either, which is how she finds herself here, strolling the halls of her old high school just to pass the time. but when she sees a familiar figure at the end of the hall, she wonders if subconsciously, that's what she'd really been looking for — her. a small smile tugs at her lips, but as she approaches, she tries to wash it away, because even though she's not interested in another argument between them, she doesn't think that's the right way to greet her, either — as if it's casual, kind. she doesn't know where they stand now, preparing herself again for what might be the last time she sees her, so maybe, it's best to make it worth it.

❝  that's a beautiful dress, ❞ she says, a sigh following her words, like she's been holding that in all night ( and she has — because she nearly choked on the gasp she wanted to let out when she first walked in. ) of course, it reminds her of the last time she saw her in a dress, a night that she had mostly blocked out of her memory but hadn't forgotten mikayla's role in it. the thought nearly makes her smile again, no matter how it turned out, because back then, they were just dumb teenagers unaware of how to deal with their feelings. that was, strangely, a lot simpler than this. still, she's just as beautiful as ever. and as poised as tai usually is, she stands almost awkwardly now, one hand in her pocket and the other waving at her side. ❝  never thought we'd be back here, did you? ❞ not necessarily the school— but more than that, the two of them, alone, not over bloodstained floors or a masked man. together— for as long as they have, until they're once again apart for good, a bed tai has made herself.