#narrator voice : she was in fact lying

[grapecaseschoices]

look what i can do now! should i ever learn to gif it's over for you hoes.

[dismaltouch]

closed starter ♡ @housefircs muse : jocelyn gordon

"i mean it this time... this is the last time."

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 A Heart Matter.

Spencer Reid x Prentiss!reader

Series masterlist | ONE | TWO | THREE |

Summary: A few months after you left, Spencer thinks he sees you walking down the street, and his whole world is turned upside down.

Words: 3,2k.

TW: mentions of crime, trauma, death, pain and violence (normal warnings in the series). so much spoilers for s6 and s7. the events narrated occur after emily's "death". so much angst. read the dates carefully, especially the years, because there are some backward time frames that can confuse you if you don't pay attention!. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I'm so sorry, that's all I can say now.

Also, I thought about making this a series, but I'm not sure because I've never done one before and I've really only been writing here for about a month??? I'm trying hard.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

July 18th, 2011

The steady ticking of the wall clock echoed in Spencer's head as a reminder that his time in the session was ticking away, robbing him of the chance to express himself without sounding like a complete lunatic.

“I saw her.” He had to repeat it aloud after receiving a puzzled look from his therapist.

The woman pursed her lips. “In a dream? Are you having nightmares again?”

The lump in the agent's throat felt tighter and more suffocating, causing him to shift in his seat to hide it. He wanted to appear sane and focused, however much his next words were anything but.

“No.”

The therapist's intrigued look and the fact that she stopped writing in her notebook to give him her full attention made his hands tremble and his heart pound as he spoke again.

“I mean, I still have the same nightmares...but this, this is different.” Reid tried to explain hesitantly.

Since the day he found you lying in a pool of blood outside your sister's apartment, his mind had been tormented by the image and the guilt it caused him. The nightmares of seeing you again and losing you were a constant every night. Every time he managed to fall asleep, he woke up agitated, feeling again the emptiness of not having you by his side. And that was something his therapist knew better than anyone, because she forced him to write down every nightmare and tell her all of them.

Those bad dreams were supposed to be over, or so he had claimed for the past three weeks.

“How?”

“I wasn't asleep when I saw her.” Spencer finally blurted out in a slightly shaky voice. He had rehearsed the same conversation several times and always ended up feeling like a deranged man seeing ghosts. “I was on the street.”

That sentence instantly changed the tone of the conversation.

“It was after work, I went to buy some food because the case ended earlier than I thought. Her favorite Chinese restaurant is a few blocks from my apartment, we really liked to eat there...I bought some and when I came out, I saw her.” He paused for a minute, trying to mentally return to the moment that was relentlessly replaying in his mind. “She was across the street, buying flowers.”

He had to be quiet for a second, pausing to calm his own breathing. It was ridiculous, but the thought of you buying flowers again made him smile slightly.

You had always loved flowers and now he was supposed to bring them to your grave.

“I ran across the street as soon as I saw her, but I lost sight of her when a bus came across.” He said, struggling to finish his story.

“Spencer, listen to me.” The woman's tone alone let him know that she didn't agree with him at all. “It's normal to think we see someone we lost, it happens to several people. Maybe it was just someone who looked like her, and being near a place the two of you frequented contributed to the confusion.”

That was impossible because he would recognize you anywhere and there was no one else like you.

“You know the truth.”

Of course he knew.

He had been trying to live for six months knowing that you were already dead.

Six months of him trying to deal with your ghost. Six months of him on his knees begging for this to be just another nightmare. Six months of reliving the last time he held you in his arms. Six months of being dead in life.

“Yes, but she looked different.” He explained, receiving a puzzled look that prompted him to provide further clarification. “Her hair was shorter, much shorter. And if I were hallucinating her ghost, I'd see her the same way I saw her the last time, or maybe the time before that. It wouldn't be so different from the way I remember her.”

“You lost two important people on the same day, it's not about logic.”

From her reaction when he concluded his session, it was evident that she considered his perspective to be irrational and clouded by the effects of grief.

And maybe it was.

July 30th, 2011

A few days of missing therapies and locking himself up at work already had consequences.

It was the second time a case had ended earlier than expected and Spencer had to go back to his lonely apartment and find excuses to leave without feeling sorry for himself. It was hard for him to be in his own home without you, surrounded by the photos you always insisted on taking and framing to preserve moments that were now torture. So the best solution was to make unnecessary purchases or lock himself in the nearest library.

Anything was better than being locked in a room with himself, so he decided to read in a room full of strangers who provided the company he so desperately needed.

The bad news was that the library's closing time had come earlier than expected for unknown reasons, and life seemed to force him to face his reality on the busy streets of Virginia, taking every possible alternate route to delay his arrival home. He didn't want to have to open the door knowing that no one would be waiting for him, that you wouldn't be there asleep on the couch after watching a marathon of your favorite movies, or just trying to read one of his books so you could discuss it with him.

His mind was still hazy and his eyes were wandering through the shops of the city when a familiar and unmistakable figure appeared before his eyes, just a few meters away, coming out of one of the shops on the next street.

It was you again. Unmistakably you.

He started running without a second thought, but the streets were so crowded that it was hard for him to move through the mass of people. His heartbeat was out of control and probably everyone could hear him, but he didn't care about looking crazy, he just needed to get a little closer to talk and make sure it was you.

The city's public transportation seemed to be against him, because just as he was about to cross the street, not caring that the light was red, another bus crossed the street and almost ran him over. Just a few inches and the story would have been very different for him. Everyone on the street was whispering, car horns were honking and every now and then someone would ask him if he was okay or look at him like he was a psychiatric patient. But nothing mattered to him, there was only your image in his mind and the possibility of finding out if he was really going crazy or if your ghost was haunting him.

When he managed to cross the street, there was no sign of you, and his therapist's words echoed in his mind as a symbol of temporary insanity brought on by pain. Try as he might to ignore his conscience, there was no way to find you in the sea of people, and he had no choice but to enter the store where he thought he saw you coming out.

“A woman bought something here a few minutes ago, she had a bag slung over her shoulder.” Spencer spoke quickly as soon as he walked in and approached the local salesman. He paused only when the man nodded in confusion at his attitude. “Do you know her name? Where she's from? Does she come here often?”

The man's lips were sealed, he just waved his hand to let him know he would only talk for money. He didn't even flinch when Reid pulled out his badge and repeated that he was FBI. Anyway, the thirty dollars was the master key to get the information and the security camera footage, which was barely visible because of the poor quality.

“I don't know who she is, it's the first time I've seen her. There aren't many customers on my shift, and not everyone buys that many books.” He began to speak under Spencer's curious gaze. “She paid cash and bought a bunch of classics. And she had a limp.”

“Are you sure? Which leg was it?”

There was a short silence, which the salesman used to remind himself, and Spencer's nerves got even more out of control.

“I don't remember which leg it was but I was definitely limping. I noticed that when she climbed the ladder, I had to help her.”

January 11th, 2010

“Can we eat here?” You asked after reading the sign that said the restaurant's elevator was under repair. “There are a few tables.”

Spencer couldn't help but frown and let go of your hand to stand in front of you. His eyes searched for yours. “I thought you wanted to come up, the view is your favorite thing here.”

You two were at your favorite restaurant, a Chinese food paradise with the best view in city, according to your expert opinion. It wasn't the first time the two of you had been there, so you had already more than booked a table, and this one was on the third floor. Your favorite part of going there was seeing the moon.

And of course, Dr. Reid was the kind of guy who always paid attention to the little details. He remembered everything, and could probably tell what you were thinking just by looking into your eyes for a few seconds.

“Let me take you upstairs, please.”

His puppy-dog eyes and a single phrase were enough to get you to let him take you by the arm and lead you up the stairs at a slow pace. By the time you got to the second floor, he offered to carry you like a princess. You had no choice but to accept, especially since it had already taken you more than ten minutes to climb a single floor. The pitying looks from the other diners were starting to make you uncomfortable.

“Thank you, Spencer.” You mumbled as you reached the table and he pulled up a chair for you.

He smiled. He loved how you said his name and wanted to hear it for hours.

After you both sat down and made your requests, you spoke again. “Aren't you going to ask why I can't climb a ladder?”

“I won't ask you anything you don't want to answer.” He said simply.

You felt like you could tell him anything, even your darkest thoughts. Your sister had already talked about it. Either it was the Reid effect, or you were just madly in love with him. Both were quite similar in your view.

“I hurt myself while I was practicing ballet. I made a really bad move.” You spoke up after a few minutes of silence. He frowned when he heard you. He had no idea you played the sport. “I was supposed to have quit, so I didn't tell anyone. Only Emily knew. I didn't treat it until the injury got worse when I went out in the field on a case. That's how I retired from the FBI. My mom freaked out, and my left ankle was screwed up for my whole life.”

Before you turned your attention back to Spencer, you prepared yourself mentally for the sympathy he would undoubtedly show. The curious thing was that in his eyes, there was nothing but interest and gratitude for having allowed him to know more about you. That was what kept you talking.

“There's an operation to try to fix it, but recovery takes quite some time. I'd rather always take the elevator and avoid the stairs as much as possible than have to rely on Emily to take care of me for three whole months. She has work to do and would go crazy having to be my maid.”

“I would.” He said without hesitation. When you looked curious, he elaborated. “I'd take care of you.”

“For three whole months?” You asked, sounding rather incredulous and as if you thought maybe he was just being extra nice.

“For the rest of my life, if you let me.”

September 5th, 2011

“There's no way you could have seen her, Spence.”

JJ's eyes fell on his friend's not-so-shaky ones, and a part of her churned inside, not knowing what else to say to him. It was eleven o'clock at night, the first time in several days that Spencer had shown up at her house to try to find comfort and perhaps understanding.

“I know, I know it shouldn't be possible.” He replied and went back to pacing the room, trying not to make a sound. The last thing he wanted was to wake up his godson or his friend's husband. “But it was so real...maybe I'm crazy.”

“You're not.” She said firmly, getting up from her seat to give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

At the time, even he didn't know for sure, and that made him fear that he had lost his mind. He was hungry for a love that he would never have again.

“You just miss her.”

No, missing was nothing compared to his feelings.

“It's more than that, much more. I haven't been able to catch my breath since she left.” He admitted, running his hands through his hair as tears formed. “I miss Emily, too, and I don't see her walking down the street.”

Silence fell over the room because no one had anything to say. There weren't enough words to describe the situation. The only sound that could be heard was the man's sobbing on Jennifer's shoulder, trying to be encouraged with words.

“It's going to be all right, Spence.”

He didn't say it out loud, but he thought he'd never get anything right in his life if all he wanted was you.

March 14th, 2010

The coffee he was carrying kept him warm as he made his way through the chilly FBI offices. Spencer wondered if the air conditioning had broken down when he reached the technical analyst's office and a conversation stopped him in his tracks.

“My take? She looks like she'll be Mrs. Reid one day.” Penelope's voice was heard after several loose sentences that the boy couldn't understand from the other side of the door. He figured they were talking about him and his relationship with you.

“I hadn't thought about Reid being legally part of my family until now.” Emily spoke next, letting out a few chuckles. “I'm going to have mini geniuses for nephews.”

“Stop it, we're just dating.” You spoke with some nervousness, still reeling from the implications. “It's not like we're getting married tomorrow.”

As he leaned against the wall by the door to hear better, Spencer couldn't help but feel a bit guilty about what he was doing. He knew it wasn't right to overhear other people's conversations, especially if they were about him. But he had a feeling he needed to know what you were saying about him when he wasn't around. It wouldn't hurt to just hear a little bit.

“Don't pretend you don't talk about future names for your babies, I heard you two.” Garcia spoke again.

“It was a random conversation.”

“About baby names?” She gave a little smile and raised an eyebrow.

“What I mean is that bringing things forward is not good.” You began to speak, completely ignoring the previous point. You were trying to be the voice of reason in the midst of their ridicule. “But I'd like him to be the one.”

“I think I'll shed a tear or two because you've grown up so fast.” Your sister commented in a teasing tone that hid quite a bit of truth. She gave your hand a quick squeeze and looked at you for a few seconds before speaking again. “What's up with that look on your face?”

You frowned. Spencer's heart seemed to stop beating for a moment. “What look?”

“You know which one I mean—the one you put on when the coffee runs out.”

Reid's hands began to sweat. He felt like a teenager trying to figure out what the girl he liked really thought of him. Did you ever have doubts about your relationship? Did you ever picture yourself with him in the future? Was he really the one for you?

“The scariest thing about love is getting hurt.” You said, trying to initiate the idea. Unfortunately, Penelope beat you to it and spoke up.

“I'm sure he wouldn't hurt you.”

“I know, I don't care about that.” You spoke up again after a few seconds, looking around the room as if lost in thought. “What if I do it? What if I break his heart?”

Oh, that was certainly not something Spencer was expecting to hear.

“How would you break his heart? Not answering his calls for five minutes and seven seconds?” Interjected Emily with a teasing tone to try to lighten the mood and get a smile out of you. “I don't think either of you would consciously hurt the other.”

And right after that, the protagonist of the discussion entered the room, causing the three of you to remain silent and pretend that nothing was going on. You could only smile when your boyfriend came in with a hot coffee for you and you saw the tender looks the two women gave you.

“Thank you.” You said.

“It's nothing.” He replied, pulling you close to surprise you with a hug that brought him close enough to your ear to whisper. “You could never break my heart.”

September 21st, 2011

Ian Doyle was only a couple of meters away.

Spencer's fist throbbed and burned, still stained with the blood of the man who had taken everything from him seven months ago. He knew he had done wrong, that he had promised everyone that he would only talk to the terrorist, and that he had done much more than that. The team had barely been able to get him out of the interrogation room because he was out of control with rage.

He wanted to make him feel a lot of pain and a minimum of what you and Emily probably felt that night.

“You need to calm down.” JJ came out of the meeting room to stop him before he could go in.

“I'm calm.” He replied, still trying to regulate his breathing. He could see his friend raise an eyebrow, and he decided to speak up again to avoid upsetting her. “This is about as calm as I can get right now.”

As soon as he was done speaking, Reid tried to keep going to the room, but the woman was in his way again and stopped him from opening the door.

“You have to be calm for what Hotch has to tell you. I mean it.” Jennifer said, after receiving a confused look. “What you're going to see now...”

“I'll be fine.”

Without giving her a chance to say anything else, he opened the door to the room. Spencer thought he'd find photos of the crime scene that ruined his life, maybe some testimony he didn't know about, or even the killer there. But none of that was true, and it made his heart stop.

“Hi.”

You certainly broke his heart this time.

[meo-eiru]

MERU😭😭😭 i finally had a free moment to relax and the first thing i wanted to do was play hold your tongues and i've spent the last few hours pouring over how absolutely beautiful of a piece it is in storytelling and visuals. i genuinely have so much to gush over and idk where i should be doing it so into your inbox it goes. i apologise in advance, you also don't have to respond to this bc 1) i am aware it's gonna get vv long and 2) spoilers will definitely be mentioned

i hope sel knows what an absolute gem of a writer she is for executing all of this bc i am fucking gobsmacked by how well certain ideas and concepts were interwoven throughout the entire piece. maybe a lot of the things following are just my interpretations, but that's another thing i really really love — there's enough ambiguity in the prose to be able to infer it in so many different ways

first to the namesake of the game, ‘hold your tongues’ and the many connotations of tongues that are explored throughout; as symbols of liberation and entrapment that intermingle so so well. i feel like the game really delves into the struggles that women face in society, in relationships, just in general and i like how since it's done so through maelyn's own perspective, we're privy to a more complex and raw display of how deeply emotionally scarring it can be.

eric is a little bitch imo (i won't retract that statement ever) but the ever judgmental, taunting and superior tone he has as the ‘voice’ in maelyn's head speaks volumes of the character he possessed and the lasting impact it had on her. giving her dress to another man makes her ‘unfaithful’, the fact that it's emphasised that these are only ‘remains’ of a dress too — bc eric left her with shreds, physically, mentally. 

if we take the dress to act as a metaphor for maelyn herself, he left her in shreds.

in response to this, maelyn bites her tongue, so hard that it bleeds. it's restraint, quite literally biting back your anger and the feeling of being wronged. grounding yourself again to the harsh reality of it all, and it brings her back to the present moment when starling points it out.

we see a similar occurrence later on when maelyn relays her tongue ‘longing for a taste, was to be kept down.' so again, she stops herself (and i think the wording here is particularly interesting, that it was to be kept, so intrinsically this too may also link to how women are commonly taught to be submissive and forced to fit to certain standards). 

in both contexts, the act of biting the tongue can be taken as a suppression of some sort of desire — the first is the desire to be mad, and the second is the desire of lust. both which women have been criticised for through the ages.

i also like to think that the tongue is a representation of freedom. starling is very much making wings to fly out of them, and taking them away from ppl has ‘forever deprived of their ability to lie’ (in which case lying = freedom, i won't expand on this too much bc it'll be another whole essay😭) so going back to maelyn, her biting hers can also be seen as her freedom being hurt, prevented.

another thing is, the line just before ‘he never ran out of tongues’, we can take this as starling never having his freedom threatened. and it poses further questions. is this because of his strength? is it because he has the ocean ‘wholly’? is it because he's a ‘man’?

on my first run through, one of the most prominent questions i came away w/ was what was it that attracted maelyn to starling? to the concept of these monsters of the sea that had surpassed human constraints that had her waiting out all those hours to catch a glimpse of one to begin with. what was it that kept her coming back? time and time again, day after day when she could've not gone back to that shore after leaving.

the text narrates a couple of things that i think contributed, there's a sense of warring humanity and animosity in the repetitive motifs of dirt and uncleanliness, in her noting that starling looked ‘half a man’ and that one half could've ‘consumed’ the other. maelyn has an envy that's touched upon frequently. does maelyn want to be closer to a monster so that no one can hurt her? or does she feel like a monster is all she can be now?

then there's a dynamic with power that was honestly done so well. again, my praise to sel for how well thought out it all was. that part where she put her hand into his guts and he made sounds he was ‘unable to control’, another when she tells him ‘cut’ and he does so without question — she recognises she holds the reins in that moment, acknowledges, ‘in control, I breathed.’ 

starling listens to her for the most part, it's a reoccuring theme. even when making his wings, he's following her instructions although it's made clear that he learns quick and is capable. perhaps this gives her comfortability.

but we see this turn on its head when things start to go left, starling begins to do as he pleases and maelyn is taken back into her trauma, back to feeling ‘disgusting’ and ‘unclean’, she even apologises and promises to do better.

leashes are mentioned a few times, maelyn first describes them as a sort of ‘necklace’ — perhaps this is tribute to the way a woman's submission is often beautified and normalised. the ‘leash’ starling puts on her in one of the ends is made of pearls, he keeps it in his mouth before this. could this be a reference to eric's sweet words that bound maelyn before he revealed himself? starling ties it somewhat loosely ‘so she could breathe’ yet that doesn't take away the fact that it's still there. it has a sort of your cage is not small, but that doesn't mean you're not locked in it kinda feel.

there's so much more i could say but i think ive alr said too much😭 i didnt even get to touch on the cuddle ending which was my favourite, or the symbolism of losing fingers, the significance of the numbers two, three and four to the story. I DIDN'T EVEN TALK MUCH ABT THE ART😭😭 MERU SORRY I GOT DISTRACTED BUT THE ART WAS PHENOMENAL❗️❗️❗️❗️

maelyn is super pretty and i love how her and starling contrast each other in design so nicely. starling's expressions were stellar ++ the bgs and cgs were beautiful (you're right, if you didn't clarify it i would think you were behind the chest one haha). also the body horror aspect was really brought to life with the visuals and ik it definitely mustn't have been easy drawing all those organs, thank you for your service meruuuu

i'll shut up here before i write another 3k, but both you and sel did such a great job w/ this. the two of you deserve a nice break to rest so pls make sure to take things easy and take care of yourselves!! drink water and sleep when you can, and know that you've made a masterpiece♥️

OH MY GOD THIS ASK IS MAKING ME GO FERAL

It's so well written??? You did such a good job picking up the details hidden behind their lines??? I fish you continued writing because I for sure did not want to finish it and please do send the other thoughts you had if you can, I love this so much

I'm sure @celerifleuri will too so I'll tag her

You already mentioned the spoilers at the start but I'll also note it down here for people who haven't played the game yet. I'm sure sel will do a much better job answering your story analyses but I'll also say you're completely right with most things you've said.

The story takes place in 1800s with dated gender roles we unfortunately can still relate to. Maelyn is a curious woman who wants to study and experiment, but is being held back by society and even people who she thought she could trust, but again Sel will do a better job explaining those.

I'll talk about the art a bit. One thing I really enjoyed that was kinda unintentional on my part was the use of night and day.

The story starts at night time, the first ever cg we get of Maelyn is her jumping down the cliff, with the moon's reflection on her left and the waves giving an illusion of wings as she looks up, in that very moment she is free.

On the other hand the first ever cg of Starling is day time. The sun is shining brightly from his left, almost blindingly, as he looks down. His hair covering the screen like spider webs.

To contrast these, it's night time in the wood ending. Just like the first cg of Maelyn, we can see the soft moonight shining upon them but not quite reaching Starling's face. Maelyn is alive.

Meanwhile in the bone ending, even though they are underwater we can tell it's day time, just like the first Starling cg. We get to see a glimpse of them through the seaweeds covering our view, the sunlight showering them gently. Starling is alive.

For the character designs too, a bit of a reverse but I'd say Maelyn resembles the sun, meanwhile Starling is like the moon.

They both share green eyes, although quite different shades. Maelyn has bright red hair that contrasts Starling's red tongue tail.

I also like that Maelyn's hair, albeit a bit loosely, is braided and kept tidy. Meanwhile Starling's hair is usually all over the place and quite messy.

[salty-an-disco]

Original Chapter 2 concept:

When you enter the cabin, you keep Narrator's words about the princess lying and cheating in mind and make sure to interrogate and prod at her every statement in the basement.

The princess gets visibly distressed and irritated at this, feeling even more trapped under your interrogation and getting more angry the more you doubt her words ("I don't know! I just don't know! What else do you want me to say?"). Hero suggests that maybe you should lay off a bit, and Narrator shows irritation at the fact that you keep questioning instead of slaying.

If you keep up the interrogation, getting closer so that now the princess is also physically cornered, the princess will snap at you and use her chains to trap and strangle you, screaming like a trapped animal.

Everything goes dark and you die.

Chapter II: The Weaver

You're accompanied by Voice of the Interrogator, and go to the cabin to find a moist stone building with walls covered in a silky thread. In the basement, there's a regular-looking princess waiting for you, tho you can't quite make out her face from this distance. She screams at you to help her, that there's a monster nearby and to please save her soon.

If you do, you'll find yourself getting dangled in webs, and that the 'princess' was just a decoy set up by the real princess, who was waiting for you on the ceiling.

[best-iwtv-scene]

ROUND 1B, MATCH 3

Descriptions/Propaganda under the cut:

Daniel vampire reveal (2x08)

An unspecified amount of time after the conclusion of the interview, Daniel is promoting his best-selling book, 'Interview With The Vampire', on Channel 4 News. No longer wearing the comfortable t-shirts and flannels from Dubai, Daniel is wearing a black leather jacket and sunglasses, a style that would not have been out of place on his 1973 self. He clearly does not care for his reputation as he berates the reporter for not reading his book and brags that he has sold millions of copies. The segment concludes with Daniel telling the reporter "blow me", which is bleeped out, and it cuts to Louis in the Dubai flat. Amongst the voices of angry vampires who have read the book, Daniel's travels to Louis. It is slowly revealed that Daniel is now a vampire, his nails sharpened and his eyes the same bright orange as Armand's, as he hunts a man outside the broadcaster's building. Louis reveals that Daniel was "burdened out of spite" by Armand after Louis left Dubai, a fact that has greatly intrigued viewers. It is also clear that Daniel cares for Louis and is worried about the backlash his friend is receiving following the publishing of his book, hinting towards a friendship in the next season.

Propaganda:

No propaganda was submitted for this scene.

Claudia end-of-episode monologue (1x04)

Lying in her coffin after Lestat forced her to watch the body of Charlie burn, still wearing her blood-stained clothes, Claudia listens to her parents fight. We then follow Claudia as she breaks down in her coffin, her face cutting between a variety of emotions ranging from manic laughter to hysterical crying. Over the top of this, Claudia narrates, through her diary, describing the pain she feels at this eternal existence, not fitting with either humans or the vampires she knows. She walks through the house and slowly steps up onto the piano, extending her arm into the beam of light and screaming as it burns her skin, just as the episode ends. The scene is scored by 'The Fantasy of Happiness' by Daniel Hart, the short string motifs layering and increasing in volume as she approaches the sunlight, highlighting the instability Claudia feels. "Well, let me tell you something, you stuck-up, flower-covered, three-dollar fancy fucking paper diary, I'm doin' just fine. And how do I know that? Cos the first man I killed called me the devil, and the last boy I killed, the last boy I'll ever love in this world, called me an angel."

Propaganda:

No propaganda was submitted for this scene.

[lipstickchainsaw]

Ohhhh and what about the narrator😈‼️😈

The Narrator has an interesting role to play, and a very careful balance to strike when he first talks to the Protagonist. It's a crafted opener, as each instance of the Narrator repeats it, and in at least one Chapter 3, he comments that he'd prepared it beforehand. From this, we can assume the overarching Narrator came up with it, maybe even as the Creator, before even starting things up.

"You're on a path in the woods. And at the end of that path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin is a princess.

"You're here to slay her. If you don't, it will be the end of the world."

Each of those sentences is very important in setting up the Protagonist's expectations, and even when you start realising he's been lying to you, he still manages to achieve what he wants to achieve.

Because you simply don't know to ask the right questions.

Every Narrator we meet is an instance of the Narrator, who, in turn, is an echo of the Creator of both the Shifting Mound and Long Quiet, as well as the Construct that traps them. The purpose of this is to have the Long Quiet kill/'slay' the Shifting Mound and end death in the wider world.

So the Long Quiet, as an entity, exists within the Construct, but is essentially everything within it, which means everything inside it is a result of the Long Quiet's perception, and this is where the Narrator steps in:

"You're on a path in the woods" establishes a location, and a person separate from that location, which allows the Long Quiet to instantiate itself as the Protagonist.

"And at the end of that path is a cabin." This establishes a goal to go to, and, I think, allows the Protagonist to conceptualise the Construct itself, and, very importantly, makes the Protagonist buy into the Construct as a the prison for both the Shifting Mound and the Long Quiet. After all, it's not like either of them can get out once you're inside.

"And in the basement of that cabin is a princess." This establishes the form the Shifting Mound takes within this story being told. People have commented before on how important it is that she is a princess: harmless but potentially powerful later on, and also establishing that she's trapped here to some extent.

"You're here to slay her." This is self-explanatory, but the word 'slay' is important. One usually 'slays' a monster, so using that term here is very much depersonalising the Princess in question, preparing the Protagonist to kill someone.

"If you don't, it will be the end of the world." And then he establishes the stakes, but I think he fucks up here. It makes the stakes too high and invites too many questions that he can't answer, because he can't communicate how dangerous the [Shifting Mound] is.

The rest of it is genuinely clever, though, because even as you figure out that the Narrator is lying to you and gaslighting the fuck out of you, the assumptions those sentences have implanted in you stick around. It takes until the end of the game for the Protagonist to realise that he is the Long Quiet, and does not exist separate from it.

The only hint you get to that is from the Wild (and things already tend to slip out of the Narrator's control by the time you get to a Chapter 3), where the Princess and Protagonist are one. Here the Wild tells you that you are a path in the woods, with the Narrator peeking it to try to pry you apart.

And similarly, even the more sensible voices (notably, the Skeptic), when they start to ask questions, they still ask them from the position of the Protagonist existing as a separate person, because they still don't question those basic assumptions (the Skeptic gets close by doubting there even is a world to save, but the Skeptic's questions are a different subject entirely).

And you may disagree with the Narrator's objective, but the fact is that you give him a lot of bullshit to juggle once things get off the rails in later chapters, and he does an impressive job keeping you on track despite it all.

Fundamentally, however, the Narrator is all smoke and mirrors (haha). He doesn't have any real power. The actual power lies with the Princess and the Protagonist, and all he can do is manipulate you into giving it to him. He describes what happens, but even that he can only do insofar as you think to buy into it.

As the Wraith says, should you choose to give into her and he tries to stop her from reaching the door: "You cannot describe me into submission."

Once you ignore him he stops having power, so it's pretty impressive how much he gets you to play along even after you're hostile to him.

[blackjackkent]

OK, into the basement of Danthelon's Dancing Axe.

Rakha is mildly curious to meet the Harpers of Baldur's Gate; the ones at Last Light seemed, by and large, like sturdy fighters, and she expects these to be no different. She's also acutely aware that Jaheira is deeply stressed out on her account, and that going to see the Harpers seems to have brightened her mood a little, which seems important.

It is, however, a rather unprepossessing group that they find in the Dancing Axe's basement, fronted by an extremely young and nervous-looking half-elf with dark hair who approaches as soon as he sees them enter.

"High Harper!" he says nervously, stopping in front of Jaheira and inclining his head. "May Selune's Tears shine on this meeting!"

Jaheira goes still. The brief moment of open good humor vanishes from her face instantly; her eyes narrow and do a rapid flick-flick around the room, taking in the four other Harpers watching them, the two levels of the room, the open loading-dock balcony that opens onto a cliffside beyond.

"...A very formal greeting, Geraldus," she says neutrally, one eyebrow lifting very slightly. "You are well?"

Rakha registers the change in her bearing and is immediately on guard herself. One of her hands slips behind her, settling on the straps holding her quarterstaves to her back.

"Y- yes, High Harper," Geraldus stammers anxiously. "Standing beneath Selune's Tears." He leans extra emphasis on the words this time.

"The lad's a little nervous, Jaheira," one of the other Harpers - an older halfling woman - says smoothly, sidling up next to Geraldus and smiling blandly up at Jaheira. "We heard of your great victory against Ketheric."

Jaheira doesn't relax at this reassurance - and neither does Rakha. Her initial confusion fades rapidly to disquieting certainty as facts start clicking into place.

Narrator: [INSIGHT] Geraldus isn't nervous. He's terrified. And he's using 'Selune's Tears' as some sort of code.

Jaheira seems to have come to the same conclusion. She settles onto the balls of her feet, her hands hooked behind her. Rakha hears the subtle click as she releases the clasp holding her scimitars in place.

"I understand, Geraldus," she says - and there is a gentle note in her voice despite the sudden rigidity of her bearing. "Take a moment."

She turns her head to look at the halfling and raises an eyebrow pensively.

"And you, Harper..." she says. "There is something familiar about you." She tilts her head slowly to one side, then glances at Rakha with a sudden cheerful smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

"Doesn't she remind you of our old friend Marcus?"

Behind Rakha's back, the Weave begins to swirl in tight loops around one of her fists.

Narrator: Jaheira's meaning is clear. Marcus was a traitor, laying a trap. The same, it seems, is happening here.

The beast purrs hungrily in Rakha's head; it's been awake at a low rumble ever since her conversation with Gortash and is becoming desperate for the next burst of chaos. Traitors. Kill them. Kill. Kill. Killkillkillkillkillkill.

Perhaps, were she fully in control of herself, she might make the same decision - that if these are traitors to Jaheira, they must be dealt with summarily. There is, after all, purpose in killing a traitor... But she would be lying if she said it was such clear thoughts driving her now.

Strike while Jaheira has them distracted.

Her fist rockets forward, carrying with it a burst of thunderous energy that sends two of the Harpers flying out of the open dock wall into the air beyond.

(A/N: I took way too long getting these screenshots but I kind of love them. XD )

The whole battle takes less than a minute. As soon as Rakha starts moving, the others swing into action behind her; perhaps they were expecting something like this from the moment Jaheira dropped the hint. Lae'zel's sword cleaves sharply through another of the Harpers; Jaheira thornwhips the remaining one down from the upper level, at which point Wyll and Minthara make short work of him.

And Rakha's blood runs cold to see the corpses they leave behind.

"More of Orin's doppelgangers," she mutters, feeling a prickle of fear run up and down her spine that all but blots out any satisfaction she got from the kills. "How many has she brought to Bhaal's side, I wonder..."

[archon-maenad]

wake up babe new thought exercise just dropped! if worm characters became protagonists of slay the princess how would each of them shape said princess with their thought patterns?

this could be done with characters from any fandom really, but I came up with the idea from imagining taylor hebert reacting to being told that "there's a world ending threat in the basement over there can you please kill it thanks!" with absolutely no evidence to back it up.

girlie would be suspicious as hell about everything, from the situation to the narrator to the voice of the hero. but she wouldn't dip from this premise because she's taylor hebert (don't think I need to elaborate on that point).

she'd take the knife because better to have and not need and all, and would come face-to-face in that basement with a cynical manipulative bitch. the narrator's warning about the princess' scheming nature ironically enough ensured she'd be someone tay would never underestimate, since the blend of "pretty primadonna at the top of a hierarchy" and "prone to lying to get her way without a care for who gets hurt" obviously reminds her of emma.

the narrator is very happy that his protagonist refuses to trust the princess. the narrator is very unhappy that his protagonist believes the princess to be the most insidious kind of dangerous.

I think taylor would end up on the adversary route. she fully believes herself able to defeat the princess because tay knows she is ruthless and strong enough, but without her bugs or even armor her mortality is stark in her mind. so when she decides to kill the princess it ends up with both of them dead after an actual fight.

meanwhile lisa, and rachel, and a lot of characters probably, would end up on the stranger route by nopeing right the fuck outta the situation and continuing even after the narrator turns them back around towards the princess. lisa because she can tell it's making the narrator annoyed even as he tries to hide it, and rachel because she's plain stubborn. since you only need to turn around three times they wouldn't give up before going to the next chapter.

since the stranger is a railroaded path (the cheev you get from completing it literally references "the illusion of choice" lol) both of their following actions, while different, would still end up in the same place.

does anyone else have enough context for more interesting explorations of this concept? I'm caught up on the fact that pretty much every character from worm would take the blade, cause they come from a world where not carrying a weapon even if you don't plan to use it is a dumbass decision. and that cuts off half the paths available, admittedly making this less interesting.

[puffyducks]

DCRC Week #9 (Part 1)

There is a fungus among us....

Sorry I have nothing better to say. We're reading PKNA #6: Spore! (or I guess sometimes I've heard it called "Spores" plural idk)

Listen, I know we LITERALLY just read Dangerous Disguise and I already said this, but it will never not be scary to just have like human people walking around in the Duckverse!! LIKE THAT IS JUST A HUMAN MAN!!! And don't even @ me with the like "oh it's a dog person that just LOOKS really human" cause he doesn't even have a black nose. That's just a guy.

Now THAT'S a dog.

Guys do you think Xadhoom is doing well after her encounter on the Evronian star base cause idk if she's doing that well. can we get a wellness check on her maybe.

SNOOZEEERRRRRRR 🛌😴🌙

Donald we TRIED telling you to just leave Angus Fangus to be harvested for infinite energy but noOoOoOO you had to SAVE HIM because it's the "right thing to do" or whatever. I'm just saying nobody would even be mad if he mysteriously disappeared.

The art in the issue is already CRAZAYYYY idk how to describe it but I'm really liking the vibe. It feels really jiggly wiggly, like all the characters look really bendy and active and there's just a lot of detail packed into these panels. It's not something I'm used to making or even seeing but I'm really enjoying the eye candy!

How many times is Donald gonna poke his nose into government business before he learns his lesson

Sorry Don I think she's busy having serious PTSD over her entire race being enslaved, you're on your own for this one bud

I'm serious about that wellness check you guys she's just lying fetal position on the floor now

DEPARTMENT..... SIGMA??!?!?!?!

Donald is so short they barely even put him in this panel 😭 it's just his forehead man

These two poses are driving me insane. This is what I look like when I'm in distress 💃

??!?!?!??!?!?!?! THAT'S A PENI-

*Narrator voice* Little did he know, it could, in fact, get much worse.

Dude I'm putting those fabric folds in my mouth and chewing on them so fucking hard holy shit... the cross hatching ououghh.... he does NOT deserve to have a cape that badass

Donaaaald don't look around like that..... YOU'D BETTER NOT-

NOOOOOOO FUCK

NEVERMIND KILL

bro she is crumpled up like a fucking paper bag be NICE

that's probably bad. right?

Anyways woah ending on not one but TWO cliffhangers? Wowie zowie! I'm sure PK and Xadhoom are gonna have a very civilized and normal conversation and we'll totally find out what they talked about at the start of next chapter and they DEFINITELY won't just jump into a chapter about Angus Fangus. RIGHT???

Now to read Ducks on the Road which is apparently like 170 pages good god-

[mediums-georg]

Stanley Parable/Hello from the Hallowoods crossover - written for the prompt "camping"

“Stanley had made many questionable decisions in his life, but they paled in comparison to how he had gotten fooled by a trap in the woods. As such, he was now about to be sacrificed to a giant fish by a group of froglins.

“As the froglins crowded around him, Stanley reflected on the fact that if he had listened to me, he wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Stanley wrested one of his hands out of the grasp of the froglins and raised his middle finger into the air.

“Come on, Stanley. You know I’m right.”

“But Stanley didn’t have time to argue before the froglins trapped him in a cage, and then pushed it into the lake.”

THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END

“This is the story of a woman named Mariella. Mariella was tasked with finding Stanley by his brother, Jim. According to Jim, Stanley had come to visit him, but suddenly went missing without a trace or a goodbye.

“Mariella found Stanley lying unconscious by the lake. She knew CPR and tried to resuscitate him, but she was too late. Stanley was already dead.

“But all was not lost, as she soon heard footsteps. She looked up and saw Stanley, perfectly fine. She looked down again at his body, which was still dead.”

“Are you a sleeper or something?” Mariella asked.

Stanley shook his head.

“They didn’t have time to talk before they heard the war cries of the froglins, who had discovered them. “‘Lolgmalolg! Lolgmalolg! Lolgmalolg!’” they chanted.”

Maybe if you could have stayed quiet, they wouldn't have noticed us, Stanley thought.

Meanwhile, Nikignik rolled his many, many eyes, and not just because of the mention of Lolgmalolg. “Dreamers, we have yet another interruption to our broadcast. I wonder if he is also going to try marketing things to us. I can’t say I’m excited to find out.”

“Excuse me?” The Narrator said. “This is my story. You’re the one interrupting, if anything.”

“Your story? This is my domain and my broadcast, and you have no business trying to take it from me.”

Stanley might have stopped to wonder why the Narrator was arguing with no one, but he was too busy running for his life with Mariella.

“After too long, the chants of ‘Lolgmalolg’ faded into nothing, and Stanley and Mariella decided it was safe to set up camp,” the Narrator said.

“They made a campfire and ate food that Mariella had packed, relieved that they had made it out alive.”

“Who’s that? Are they a ghost or something?” Mariella asked Stanley.

The voice had started talking to him when the black rain fell, and never offered much details about his life before it. Stanley wasn’t really sure who or what he was, so he just shrugged.

“Fair enough,” said Mariella. “I’ve seen weirder things in these woods.”

[swift-creates]

@chrumblr-whumblr day 17: touch starved and day 18: shaking hands

wc: 2272 | warnings: mentions of minor violence, injuries, mention of alcohol, strike trying to delude herself | characters: Strike (OC) (pov), Rex, Fives, Echo, '94 / Mikaere Dunn (OC), Omega

more batfam au!!! somewhat of a sequel to this

Rex - Batman Fives and Echo - Nightwing Strike - Red Hood '94/Mika - Red Robin Omega - Robin

i spent so long on this fic and then procrastinated posting it even longer hahahaha (<- suffering) Fives and Echo both go by Nightwing to confuse the enemy. it works despite the fact that their domino masks do Not hide that one nightwing obviously has a goatee and tattoo and the other one doesn't.

Rex is really doing his absolute best to get his daughter back, Strike is just an unreliable narrator due to having abysmally low self-esteem and lying to herself a Lot and trying to convince herself that she hates the Family and they hate her (when they really want her to get to know her and she really wants to go home).

more things about Strike on AO3

It starts when she first returns to the Batcave. Red Hood got too deep into a tangle with some of Falcone's thugs and had to be rescued by Nightwing. Nightwing, of all people. He tried to make a joke about it, and she punched him in the nose. Now she watches him press a rag to the source of the blood, watches Rex fuss over him as Robin and Red Robin stare at her. This must be strange for them, unused to seeing her in the Batcave when to her, it had always been the only place she belonged.

"Honestly? I kind of deserved that." Fives pulls the rag away from his face, winces, and puts it back. Echo scowls. "No, you didn't. Strike overreacted." It's surreal, seeing her name come out of his mouth. It's surreal seeing him at all. He belongs in pictures on Rex's desk, in old newspaper clippings, on a gravestone.

Her ribs and leg ache, but she refuses to ask them for one of the first-aid kits she knows are kept inside a drawer just a few feet away. (Or the bottle of whiskey in the one below.) They probably wouldn't give it to her, anyway.

"Strike?" Rex turns and finally notices her standing there. She gives him a flippant wave with her free hand, the other buried beneath her jacket. "Hey, old man. Worried I'll swoop in and steal your chance to clean up the streets of Gotham?" He doesn't say anything in reply, steps toward her instead. She resists the urge to ask, Is there blood on my face? because she already knows there is and braces for blows, yelling, anything.

He wraps his arms around her, and she freezes.

What? Out of everything she'd expected, a hug had not been one of them. (But this hug is so warm, so comforting, and so safe. It reminds her of when she was a kid, and she thought his embrace could keep out every single bad thing in Gotham, from villains and goons to rough concrete and grazed knees. She hasn't had this kind of hug in years. All she wants to do is melt into her dad and confess all the sins she's ever committed, collapse in his arms and beg for forgiveness.)

"Come home."

I will. The words almost leave her mouth, dance on her lips, the tip of her tongue.

But then she remembers who she is, and she remembers who he is, and she pushes him away.

"They had more backup than I thought. The birds brought me back here. I'm not staying." She avoids looking him in the eyes, knows they'll be round and pained and longing for someone who doesn't exist anymore. "Sure you won't let anyone patch you up?" His voice is hushed. "I can take care of myself," she snarls, turning towards the lifts. Her legs have gotten too used to standing still, and her first step lurches embarrassingly before she catches herself and limps the rest of the way, ignoring the stares that must be pinned on her from behind.

The doors close her off from the rest, and then she turns and leans against the back wall, catching a breath, it seems for the first time that night. Her leg is screaming by now, and her ribs are even worse, twinging every time she takes a breath.

She limps out into the manor, and realises it's the first time she's been back there since dying. Everything looks roughly the same, save for more of… everything. More shoes and boots by the door, more framed pictures hanging on the walls. There's a drawing beside the nearest doorway, and she doesn't know what makes her stop to look at it.

It's hers.

It's the family-as-animals picture she'd drawn when she was 12. Her as a robin, obviously. Rex as a large bat. Two more birds on faraway branches in the background representing Fives and Echo. And somehow 12-year-old Strike had never been outed as Robin. Wonders never cease.

But why would he frame this up? It isn't even that good.

She shakes her head, chalks it up to sentimentality (summoning up less contempt than she would have liked), and keeps walking. If memory serves right, Fives and Echo store their old motorbikes in the aboveground garage. She'd grab one for the ride back to her safe houses; if they wanted it back, they'd come after her themselves. They have other vehicles now anyway, they won't need those old things-

"Strik'ika?"

She freezes again. (She seems to be doing that a lot tonight.)

"99?" The old steward looks shocked to see her there, coming right up to her in a sharp contrast to Rex's wary approach and sudden hug. (Did he even know she'd been back? Had he still thought she was dead, up till right now?) "Ad'ika…" He reaches out, his old fingers brush her chin, and she resists the urge to lean into the contact. "You've grown so tall now."

Strike can feel the tears bubbling up inside her chest. She chokes them down and doesn't dare to speak. Like the manor itself, 99 looks practically unchanged, but on closer inspection, his hands are rougher than she remembers, and all the lines on his face engraved deeper — the smiling ones too, not just the worry furrows.

They make him happy.

She doesn't know why the revelation feels like a knife through her bruised ribs.

Does he think she's back for good? That his little one, his ad'ika is home to stay.

Better lower his expectations.

"I'm not staying." She pulls away from him like she pulled away from Rex, like she pulls away from the idea of coming home. Except she doesn't, does she? Her heart longs for the halls, the cave, the sparring mats. Have they updated the dojo in the last four years? Does the kitchen still have the same ceramic tiles, subtle blue floral patterns on bright unstained white? Is her room still hers, or have they given that to the Replacement, too?

But she doesn't care. About the Bat, about the manor, about the baby birds. Not even the pictures of various kids she can see scattered all over Rex's office. So she acts like it, turns away from him as the traitorous tears burn in her eyes.

"You won't even stay for tea?" If she says yes, the first thing he'll do is fetch a pot and bags of earl grey, and then he'll insist she take cookies with her cup, and then Rex will walk in and look at them with that wistful look in his eyes like he knows just how much she wants to go back to the days when it was just the three of them a family a team and then it will never end. So she doesn't. "I… I have to go." She swallows back the truth, limps away from him and out the door.

Trying to convince herself that their family is dead, and so is the little girl in the Robin costume, beaming up at her from the picture on Rex's desk.

~

It really starts the night in the library.

She's staring at the fireplace as the birds squawk behind her, flocking around the focal point that is their father sitting contentedly in the middle of the couch. Omega is curled up under his arm, reading a book Strike saw it was Grimm's Fairy Tales when she took it off the shelf earlier and occasionally grumbling at her siblings when they disturb her. Mika is play-struggling with Fives, and Echo has his prosthetic feet crossed ankle-over-ankle and propped on their little brother's lap; not an unimpressive feat given how much the other two boys are wriggling. Every so often his eyes flick up to Strike, and she moves her gaze back to the fire, pretends she hasn't been watching her family actually be a family. Without her.

So what if all she wants is to move closer, to press up against Rex's side in his space formed by his arm braced on the back of the couch? No one has asked her to join them; she shouldn't even be there, anyway. The only reason she'd followed them back to the 'cave in the first place was because she'd been promised 99's baking, which had been provided almost an hour ago. She should leave now, ride back to her apartment before it gets too light and people notice a single motorbike leaving Wayne Manor.

But she doesn't. Instead, she stares at the flames and pretends everything she's ever wanted isn't sitting three feet away, giggling and wrestling and being alive, alive, alive.

They go silent at some point, and she sneaks a look to see them all asleep. Omega has a finger stuck in her book, marking where she'd stopped, and Mika's head leans against hers, black on blonde, as Fives and Echo snore in tandem beside him. Rex's eyes are closed; he looks more relaxed than she remembers seeing him in the last few years. She thinks about the hug she'd spurned, and her heart aches.

Her eyes burn again. Traitorous, traitorous feelings.

Is it those very same that make her crawl across the couch and curl up against him? That close her eyes as she settles all too quickly into the familiar rhythm of breathing with him, and drag her down into sleep?

(She shouldn't be here they don't want her here why isn't she running for the hills why does she want to stay with people who don't want her-)

(But she wants them. Maybe that's all that matters right now.)

~

When she wakes up, she takes a moment to realise where she is. Her head is resting in the crook of his neck, and his arm rests around her shoulders, making it near impossible for her to wriggle away without him noticing. Not that she wants to. He must have moved sometime during the night.

It's warm and comforting in this hold. He starts to stir, and she quickly closes her eyes again, feigning uninterrupted sleep. There's the sound of a soft sigh, then: "I know you’re awake, Strik'ika." She resists the urge to wince.

Reluctantly she opens her eyes and sits up, pulling away from that warm hug she's not likely to get again, and forces her expression to blankness. "Morning."

"Morning." His gaze is level as it meets hers, even as it flicks down to her shoulder where his arm has just been resting. "Sleep well?"

She does her best to shrug noncommittally, but she's never been good at pretending not to care. Not when she always cares too much.

A brittle blanket of silence settles over them like that night on the rooftop, the night when he put a hand on her shoulder and she flinched. At the same time she wants it to shatter into a billion pieces and wants to hold her breath so it will never break.

"Strike?" His voice practically begs her to look at him, hushed and almost hopeful. She can't. Not when her eyes are already brimming with tears, blurring the pattern of the couch into a smudge of colour.

"Ad'ika?"

That is what truly breaks their standoff, in the end.

"Stop calling me that. I'm not a kid anymore," she snarls, and her own heart screams against the acid in her voice, even as she thinks he'll finally, for once in his life, stop and not push. "Why did you stay last night?" he asks instead. "You usually leave." It's all she can do not to look at him and see if his eyes are as pained as she thinks they are. "99 was baking." "No. Why did you stay?" His voice trembles so slightly, no one would catch it but his daughter.

"Because-" Because I want to find excuses to stay with you. Because I miss the family we were and the family we could have been and the family that you are without me. Because I want you to stop wanting me back. Because the kid you loved is dead and there's a weapon in her skin. "Because-"

Because because because. Because everything, because nothing, because of you, because of me.

Because the tears are warm as they spill down her cheeks, and she can't stop them. Can't stop her hands from shaking as she wipes them desperately off. And then his are there, folding her fingers in his own as he wraps her in his arms again and gently dries her face.

"I'm here. I'm here, kid. I've got you." Words she hates, words she needs, words she never thought she'd hear again.

"I'm sorry." I'm sorry imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry-

"Shhh. I know. Me too."

Her eyes are squeezed shut as he pulls her tightly against his chest, and nothing can hurt her when her buir is there to protect her, when he has her back, when they're Batman and Robin again- no, not Batman and Robin, but something new, something different. But he will always be her father, and she will always be his daughter. This is what she whispers between wracking sobs, clinging to him like she's 12 and waking up from a nightmare again. He presses a kiss to her forehead and holds her tighter.

The nightmare is over. This is what he whispers back, when she's all cried out and the pain on her face finally eases. You are safe here, and you are loved, and you are alive.

And maybe that's all that matters, right now.

[auxiliarydetective]

OHC Day Fourteen: Musical AU

Some Unconventional Musicals

For this day, I once again had a lot of options. And I couldn't choose because I honestly thought multiple of these were too cool not to share, so you're getting multiple again.

Featuring: Ezori, Shimotsuki Kaede, Lindewen, Ofelia Marenzi

Your Inner Song, starring Ezori

In this sci-fi musical, Ezori is the protagonist. But, hear me out, she doesn't sing. Other characters very much do – hell, even T'Pol might be heard singing at least once – but Ezori herself stays quiet. After all, she doesn't talk either, so she also will not sign. The most you'll hear over her throughout the musical would be humming, whistling, but never actual words.

This musical would definitely have to be a musical film instead of a stage production because the ENT jumpsuits don't really make for good stage costumes. Characters would be very hard to differentiate.

As for the plot, I don't really have much of a concept for it, but I'm very sure that the finale would take place inside some sort of mindspace. This is the first and only time where we hear Ezori sign, after not even hearing her voice for the entire runtime. Her singing appears as this seemingly disembodied voice, with nobody knowing who it belongs to. But then it's her. Chills~

The Squirrel-Tailed Thief, starring Shimotsuki Kaede

The plot is fairly simple. It's Kaede's youth before the events of the Wano Arc, living as a poor kimono dyer and woodworker by day and the eponymous thief by night. Expect some shenanigans, blatant lying, Robin Hood vibes...

But here's the twist.

This musical has heavy kabuki elements. Kabuki pieces often comment on political events, so it's the perfect genre for Kaede's story, and Wano is based on Edo-period Japan, so that's perfect too! The costumes would feature heavy makeup, there would be stagehands dressed in all black doing the practical effects (maybe even with the classic twist of Kaede hiding among them and then shrouding her disguise and appearing onstage like a true hidden thief), the movements and acting would be noticeably inspired by kabuki... And yes, of course the music is dominated by traditional Japanese instruments like the shamisen, koto, shakuhachi, tsuzumi etc. Hyoshigi are used to indicate beats of the story, the changing of scenes and the like. Kaede's leitmotif is played with the koto.

The Tales of Linda Seasong, starring Lindewen

This is a story where the characters themselves don't really sing. Instead, the focus is on Lindewen, under her alias of Linda Seasong, who acts as the narrator of this collection of many tales. She travels from town to town as a bard, telling these stories, which is the frame in which the musical takes place. Tonight, she's performing in the venue that the musical is being performed in that night, the next she'll be in the next, she says.

Lindewen sits on a pedestal at the back of the stage, illuminated by dim lights as a thin fog covers the stage. In front of her, the stories she narrates take place. In every story, there's one character who looks like her, but she never confirms nor denies that it is in fact her. Still, the costumes seem to suggest it, as the characters in question share her color scheme. Also, unlike other characters from her stories, these doppelgängers are never named.

The music is in tune with the plot of her being a travelling bard. I can't really describe it, I think it's been described as pagan folk, but I mean a very specific type of song, so I'll just show you:

This is Lindewen's character playlist, and it's full of songs like these. (This playlist might change over time, but the songs by Faun are the ones I mean.)

Flying 40s, starring Ofelia Marenzi

Listen, I haven't watched Masters of the Air yet, so I can't tell you a specific plot, but I shall give you vibes:

Imagine with me a war movie. But the protagonist who you're following isn't actively participating in the fighting. You know that it's happening, but you're not there yourself. Ofelia is our protagonist and we know that she's a flight nurse and that her male friends are mostly pilots and crew of bombers, fighters and the like, but we never see either of them on a plane. We just see the consequences. The cast dwindling in numbers, new people arriving, others disappearing.

Instead, the focus is on Ofelia's other job as a singer. As such, the music is jazzy, with lots of songs also sounding straight from an Andrews Sisters album. As the musical goes on and the songs become a little distorted, with the lyrics and music starting to reflect the darkness behind the scenes. The final number has none of that darkness though, it's about celebrating the end of the war, the euphoria of it. But then, after the number is over, everyone clears off the stage except for Ofelia... And the final final number is something like this:

This is actually Ofelia's faceclaim, by the way

There is no encore.

General Taglist: @starcrossedjedis @oneirataxia-girl @daughter-of-melpomene @bravelittleflower @box-of-bats

@eddysocs

Star Trek Taglist: @enterprise-come-in

One Piece Taglist: @supermarine-silvally

Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

[lover-of-mine]

I guess I overthink the pattern of the use of different colors with Buck now and I NEED to talk about the use of the orange range of the color wheel in his wardrobe.

Because like, it's the therapy color, is the color he's wearing when we find out he's seeing Dr. Copeland (on 4x02). (Go back to therapy Buck)

But looking for all the colors he wears, I noticed he's wearing a darker shade of it when he first talks to Mackey which is the thing that starts the lawsuit which is interesting when you look at the way Buck's loneliness makes him do stupid shit and yes, the lawsuit happens before the therapy, but the therapy session is literally where he talks about hiding "his true feelings" so the use of the same color he's wearing here is interesting (on 3x04)

Because he turns loneliness into resentment leading to the whole mess with the lawsuit and it all starts in fucking burnt orange. And it's also the color he's wearing in the situation that ends the lawsuit mess, so nice little full-circle moment where he thinks he's not enough without the uniform but saves 2 people without it (on 3x06).

But what are other moments baby boy is in this color?

When he's at madney's apartment stress baby proofing it before he tells Maddie about the therapy but is also very vague about why he needs therapy. And also when he tells Maddie about how she called him sad and lonely and how he's fine but just wants to be "finer" which, you know, doesn't really feel like he's being completely honest. (on 4x03)

Also when he finds out about Daniel and we all know he represses the shit out of that information. And the thing about the scene where he finds out about him is that he's making light of what Maddie's baby box means to him then he gets hit in the face with a 30-year-long lie and he just walks away (on 4x04 and 4x05).

Also when he's lying to Chim about not knowing about why Maddie left. A lighter more yellow shade, but still in the same range.

And outside the family drama, we have the first time we see him and Taylor in what could be interpreted as a date. They're grabbing lunch, no hookups in the bathroom or leaving him with his pants down in a parking lot, just them talking, hanging out. Buck is talking around his point because he needs something from Taylor, I wouldn't say he's hiding true feelings here unless we want to discuss how soon after we see them reconnect, Buck decided he wanted more with her and the hiding thing is him saying she's just a friend, but it's a possibility (on 4x11)

But it is interesting when you pair that with the fact that he was also wearing that color on his first date with Natalia because if we want to talk about Buck hiding his true feelings, that boy being all bashful about his death is definitely high up on the list (on 6x15).

And the second date too, where he's all this is the real Evan Buckley but we can hear the narrator's voice going "this was not the real Evan Buckley" (rip math powers :/) (on 6x17)

He's also wearing it after the blackout when he lets Eddie walk away after he pretty much told him to break up with Ana and Eddie tells him he's doing it and when we see him alone in the loft after (on 5x03).

This particular interpretation of this particular chain of events can absolutely be called a stretch, but, how excited Buck looks asking Eddie if Chris already knows he's going home and the way he walks into the loft looking defeated and the way he says "hey honey I'm home" to the ceiling can absolutely be seen as "this is not the home I want to be in" considering the way Buck is bad with being alone, he just spent 5 days at the station with most of the people he loves and the first thing he does when he notices Eddie in the locker room is to ask about Chris, maybe he was waiting for an invitation from Eddie? Feels plausible to me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

He's also wearing it when Taylor kisses him and consequentially when he goes to see Eddie after he wakes up. Because when he's talking to Taylor he's making light of the way he went up that crane and when he's talking to Eddie he's severely downplaying how affected he is about the situation so Eddie won't worry about him (all of the below are on 4x14).

And there's the major I'm hiding how I'm truly feeling moment that he's wearing this color, because he's wearing it during the will reveal.

Because let's be real, Buck is not saying anything about how he's really feeling in this scene, Eddie completely shifts his worldview in 5 minutes but he doesn't say it. He just accepts it.

And that leading to him standing by the door, not going in, watching Eddie and Christopher? Come on.

(Side note, he's wearing this burnt orange/ochre color in every major conversation he has in this episode, except for when he's talking to Carla about how it's all affecting Chris, where he's wearing grey, and when Taylor comes back and they get together, where he's wearing black, so neutral colors in a sense, there's also the uniform but the uniform doesn't count, I think the uniform counts as neutral, except for when he's telling Christopher about what happened when he's wearing red and honestly, I think it's the only bit of the episode that he's being honest about how he feels about the situation which is interesting with the use of color with him)

I'm gonna tell you it's also the color of the couch his mother picked for no reason really I just noticed and felt like sharing lol

I can't think of any other uses of this color so I think this is all for now.

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog 13: Episode 8, Pandala's Chichala

A very interesting episode for Joris's characterization, and the question of how much we can even trust Kerubim's stories.

On one hand this thing really is impressive, on but on the other... Simone will be so mad when the giant sexy card sculpture falls apart, and she has to clean this up.

(Guy who reads into this show as if it were the bible voice) Do you think Joris is frustrated that he, as a 7yo boy has to do so much around the home? Do you think he has to answer the door a lot? Did Joris ever try to clean the dishes himself before Simone came around and fixed their home for them, — and if so, did Luis or Kerubim reprimand him for trying to make things better? Or did they not care? No wonder that in the movie, he says that Kerubim is a wreck and that their home is a prison, and that he h— [I am forcefully dragged away from the microphone and sedated]

Yay use your son for word-combat with potential customers.

She deserves better pay, between all the dishes and the cards.

Also, for our obligatory "pointing out food" moment: They are eating fish. That's all.

Kerubim shit parent moment 999: Keeping all the evil potions, poisons, and alcohol on the lowest possible shelf, as god intended 🥰💕

12-14yo Joris, after Kerubim has died and turned into a kitten (hes meowing sadly, unable to stop Joris): I hauve to become an alcoholic. I can't do this shit anymore. Where can I—— THE LOWEST SHELF.

Really, this household is a nightmare, as I've pointed out in the previous episodes.

Joris has definitely, before the show, almost died multiple times (just like he will, yet again, almost die in the future episodes,) due to the random dangerous, poisonous, venomous, sharp and cursed shit Keke leaves lying around in places Joris can reach.

Keke simply saying "no" isn't going to like, fix how bad things are, to me. This is the bare minimum of parenting.

It must hurt, to be treated like a kid all of a sudden — when Kerubim's main parenting tactic in day to day life is "we are Equals, and you are my most important person in the world, and I will tell you aaaall my secrets and gruesome stories (totally not censored because I don't want to traumatize you)."

Probably feels like rejection, or like being gatekept from something that would usually be okay to do (trying something that Papycha was just hyping up a second ago.)

As I've said, his parenting tactic is just... "I trust you sooo much. We are Equals."

Which is good in some ways, but inevitably leads to some heartbreak along the way.

Considering the fact that Kerubim later says that he was looking for ecaflip city to become rich and propose to Lou... Man he can't stop thinking with his cock even on his romantic quest for marriage. 💀

(This is an edit from future me: it is also just as likely that he has been searching for Ecaflip city for most of his life, — and that he started looking for it again, and more actively after deciding to marry Lou. This is the more charitable interpretation.)

One of the not-so-many times in the series that Kerubim is around someone who can call out whenever he's lying.

As I've said, unless there is sufficient reason, one should take the events Kerubim presents as what happened, but, by god do we have a big gran of salt that we need to take into account.

Kerubim's main reasons for lying in this show are, of course: 1. Being embarrassed 2. Censoring things that make him upset. 3. Censoring things that would make Joris uncomfortable, or that are age-inappropriate. All are very understandable, but still make him a very unreliable narrator.

One of the more fascinating micro-character arcs that are present in this show, is Joris's questioning of Kerubim's stories, and beginning to look at him as a person, instead of putting him on a pedestal, as he was doing in the first episodes.

This episode is its beginning. Until now, Joris didn't really know anyone who would question what Kerubim was saying.

Anyway,

There's no fucking way he actually said that. I refuse to believe that.

Aaand one last hit of that "Kerubim Crepin is a LIAR who LIES" weed that drives me insane.

He probably has a lot to think about, regarding his papycha.

Welcome to the club, Joris.

[rabbitindisguise]

hi! 🔥📚 for the fic writer ask meme?

Oh hey! Ty for the ask :D

📚: What are some of the favorite things you've learned while doing research?

I think the stuff I learned about barrel making is my favorite, but tbh I'm not a huge researcher? I find it just procrastinates the process (like picking fonts/names/etc). Sometimes I'll do it if it's important to the character, but otherwise it doesn't really compel me these days. I think of it as a problem to fix in edits. Then again I read something that included lots of epic world building I really liked, so maybe I should do it more . . .

🔥: What's a piece of writing advice you consider bad advice?

Oh man. I think show don't tell is the big one ^^'

Before I'm pelted with tomatoes, I think there's a couple reasons why this fails people:

It depends on the narrator, which can be a character that would more naturally talk about things in a specific way that showing hinders. I think writing advice should never get in the way of what sounds correct. If it works it works and if it doesn't it doesn't.

It leaves little room for contradictions between objective facts+character bias+character interpretation+narrator interpretation and bias+characterization/"localization"+multiple cultural interpretation+memory issues+lying. If a character says one thing, the reader observes another, and later there's a key piece of backstory that gives greater context for why the character made the wrong assumption, and on top of that there's multiple ways a statement can be interpreted in a fictional culture. . . telling is extremely important. Without it it's incredibly hard to pull off that arc in a single paragraph (which can be done).

It's helpful for like, first graders, who still say things like "sue cried a lot. She was sad." but for most people who are reading writing advice columns it's more confusing than not. It's more helpful to say what you specifically mean by show don't tell. Do you mean include more examples of world building like having lots of swords in every living room depicted rather than having the reader trust you when you say it's a war obsessed culture? Do you mean that characters often don't notice specific emotions in themselves and that physical signals are more appropriate? Do you mean that saying characters are friends is more flat than describing interactions that are friendly? Then saying that is more helpful. That way the writer can decide to exclude the swords because it's lies, contradict stated emotions with physical signals, make it flat to show an uneasy relationship between characters, etc etc.

It's sort of seen as this silver bullet of writing, when what people need to work on sometimes is totally unrelated. Like: consistency? World building? Character development? Strong side characters? These are all really important things that can't just include showing instead of telling. Sometimes having a bigger vocabulary, more examples of archetypes, deeper understandings of story structure, etc are the things that help. Emphasis on more examples. Mostly I think people need to read more, and break down texts with a highlighter to see what they like or don't like about it.

And this is why I don't usually say show don't tell u_u too much room for interpretation and doesn't fix everything by itself. I am someone who focuses on detailed characterization and creating unique voices though so maybe it's simply too redundant to think about though so your milage may vary with that one