#no idea what the context was for this i think i blacked out during half of that preshow space

[dandp]

okay

[mossy-rock-in-a-field]

Several weeks ago, my retirement-age mother requested that I play Baldur’s Gate 3 for her because she has trouble with controllers/keyboards and wanted “to see what all the fuss is about with that cute wizard boy.” For context, my mother and I have done this sort of thing in the past with certain RPGs (dragon age, mass effect, etc.), but it’s been a few years since she’s personally requested a game like this. Basically, I control her Tav but let her make all the choices so she can determine how the story plays out without worrying about mechanics. She treats it like a choose-your-own-adventure book.

Anyway, here is a list of some of the things my mother has said and/or chosen to do throughout the course of BG3 in no particular order:

She is (obviously) romancing Gale. She is quite smitten with him and his passion for books and learning; she also thinks he’s polite and qualifies as “relationship material.” She also REALLY likes the things he’s said about his cat so far (my mom is a cat lady), so I know she’s gonna flip shit when we meet Tara in Act III.

She’s playing a normal druid Tav with a generally good alignment. Her favorite spell is Spike Growth because she thinks it’s hilarious whenever enemies walk into the AOE and die. I usually end up having to cast it at least once per battle per her request. Sometimes twice.

Contrary to her alignment, my mother tasks me with robbing every single chest, crate, barrel, and burlap sack we come across; this also includes people and their pockets. The party is always at max carrying capacity. ALWAYS. She doesn’t like selling things because “what if I need them.” The camp stash is in literal shambles. There is no hope of organizing it. She’s got like fifty seven sets of rags and a billion pieces of random silverware.

She MUST talk to every animal and corpse in the game. I think five hours of her total playtime so far (47ish) has been spent speaking to animals as many times as humanly possible. Like, I was thorough in my own playthroughs, but this is on a whole other level.

She did NOT get Volo’s lobotomy, but she did let Auntie Ethel take her eye in hopes of a cure for the tadpole. I did not understand the logic then. I still do not understand it now.

She is far more interested in fashion than equipment stats. Do you have any idea how much gold I’ve had to spend on dyes just to make things match? SO much. Same vibe as that “please someone help me balance my finances my family is starving” tweet but instead of candles it’s thirty thousand fucking bottles of black and furnace red dye.

We broke the prisoners out of Moonrise, but they got on the boat too early and bugged the fight by leaving Astarion and Karlach behind. Wulbren Bongle somehow got stuck in combat mode even after engaging the cutscene on the docks below Last Light; he he kept trying to run ALL THE WAY BACK TO MOONRISE nine fucking meters at a time while I frantically tried to finish the fight with the Warden, otherwise Wulbren would have run straight into the shadow curse. (I would’ve let him go; fuck Wulbren Bongle, all my homies hate Wulbren Bongle. But my mom didn’t know that, and she wanted to keep him safe. So.)

She had me reload a save like eighteen times to save the giant eagles on top of Rosymorn Monastery. Wouldn’t even let me do non-lethal damage just to get past things. I think getting that warhammer for the dawnmaster puzzle took us like an hour and a half alone. (Yes, I know you can use any warhammer, but SHE didn’t.)

She’s started keeping an irl notebook to keep track of her quests between play sessions. She writes down ideas and strategies when she thinks of them during the week, then brings them to her next game session at my house. I think she wrote about three pages on possible approaches to the goblin fortress alone.

She insists that I pet Scratch and the owlbear cub before every single long rest, no exceptions. Sometimes I have to do it multiple times until she is absolutely sure that the animals know exactly how much she loves and cherishes them. She has also commissioned a crocheted owlbear plush from a friend of hers and is very excited.

I’m sure there’s a bunch of stuff I’m forgetting, but those are some fun things I thought of. She’s enjoying the game and is telling all of her retired friends to get it and play it for themselves. She asked me “what is Discord” yesterday and I think my life flashed before my eyes.

anyway shout out to my mom for being neat

Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5

[yayll]

Hiii i hope you're feeling better soon :(( I was wondering if I could request a Dazai x reader fic where the reader has PTSD? Specifically, the beginning of autumn kind of triggers her (sorry if it's a confusing i dunno how to word it lol) Could it be fluff/comfort? Btw I love your writing style so badly so pls tweak the idea if you think it would work better! And no worries if you'd rather pass :33

hii angel i genuinely am sorry that this took me a while! (work and life happened a little more than usual, GOT SICK and barely had time to sit down and write.) it was so ivover but i am fine now thank u so much bub!

i REALLY hope you like this and that it's what u wanted, i've never written someone w PTSD before and i was just rlly hoping i didn't mess this characterization up for ur request ahhh. i had such a nice time writing it and i rlly wanted to explore the impact it could have around reader and dazai and him going out of his way even if it could be a little goofy and sappy to make u feel at least a little better even if u can't talk abt it.

i love uuuu thank u again! <3

~ a little something about Dazai noticing harmful patterns and loving you through them ~

He's been watching you sit by the window for the past half hour as you stare at what seems like the beginning of the new season outside. You were quieter than usual, more withdrawn and jumpy, which could only mean that you weren't sharing something with him- or rather having trouble processing something to the point where you didn't realize he could tell something inside you was on high alert.

Dazai would rather die than see you in such a state, especially during what's supposed to be such an exciting time of the year that's full of the things you usually love to do. Whatever is impeding you from enjoying the leaves falling has to be dealt with the most delicate of methods, but especially with love. If you taught him anything about the past haunting you to the point of mental distress, something he suffered bouts of every now and then when memories made days grow dark, it's that all you need is one person to truly witness you. Just like how you've seen the ugliest parts of him time and time again yet you still look at him with all the stars in the sky, stars he consumes like a black hole waiting to be filled.

Luckily for you, he has an arsenal of things he can try to soothe you with, because he wouldn't be a good detective AND boyfriend if he didn't keep all those context clues in his pocket for a bad day. Mainly though, he was just completely attuned to your every need. You are his happiness, and your wellness isn't up for debate: It's mandatory. He stands up from the loveseat with a deep exhale as he walks over to you, his lips curled in a lazy smile as he tests the waters to see what you could need from him without asking.

"You know, if you stay any more still I could probably paint you like one of those fancy paintings. What do you say, be my model?"

You look over at him from the window, and he can visibly tell you haven't been at ease lately. He suddenly realizes he's just fallen even more in love with you. That there is nothing in this world that could ever let him see you as anything but his heart.

You murmur, a faint smile decorating your serene face.

"Mm, I'm not sure. I don't think I could pose for that long, you know? It would probably be hard to catch my likeness, heh."

He clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes with a playful smirk. Oh how he wants to lean in and worship your likeness with his loving touch, but he decides to take it easy on the physical affection for now, not until he knows you're feeling up for it. He can be a good boy, something he usually isn't.

"Well, I wouldn't mind being the brave young knight who tries~ Shall we take this outside for better lighting?"

You instantly don't give him a good reaction to that. You shrug, seeming conflicted and unsure of yourself, but unable to really bring yourself to explain with words, something uncharacteristic of you.

No problem! Dazai thinks to himself. If you don't want to go outside, he can bring outside to you in the comfort of home. He'll enhance your safe space, and tailor it to just what you need. He hums, tapping his temple in an exaggerated manner as if he were thinking really hard and when he sees that it gets a small giggle out of you, he knows he's on the right track.

"Hm, I know what we should do instead. Wait here, angel.~"

He disappears into the hallway and you sit there as the sound of cabinets opening and rummaging around fills the air. You smile to yourself, and shake your head at the mental image of Dazai becoming a tornado to find whatever he's looking for right now, hoping he doesn't make too much of a mess. You fidget with your hair, twirling it in between your fingers as you take a deep grounding breath while you wait.

A moment later, he comes back with what seems like art supplies and a ton of mini candlesticks.

He knows you're intrigued when you tilt your head in confusion, but then again that's probably just the confusion... Dazai sets down two canvases along with the candles, flashing you a mischievous grin. If you couldn't process your feelings through words, art was always there! You look over the activities he's laid out for you both, awaiting his silver tongued explanation.

"You know when I want to be the little spoon but I don't say anything?"

You laugh softly, and nod.

"Mhm, you get all moody and weird."

He nods back, a half smile on his face as he rests his hands on his hips. He wants to tell you that the only reason he even knew such intimate luxuries is because you showed him that he's worthy of it, of being loved, but he doesn't say anything. He lets the sweet memories between you swim through his mind as fuel for the day he's trying to create for you. His voice sounds more like he's talking out loud now, lost in a thought..

"You make me moody and weird. You also make me want to grab your soft little face and just..."

He then snaps back to the moment, and his tone picks up.

"... But alas, there is no time to waste! Come, sit, I'll get the other things ready.~"

He zooms off to the kitchen, and your heart softens at how much he fusses over you, though you also hope you aren't being too much. You know he'd hate to hear that, so you simply sit down and look over the supplies you had honestly forgotten you had.

Dazai makes tea, because he knows it helps with your fidgeting and you like how the mug feels in your hands, he also begins to set the candle sticks all over the living room, lighting them one by one. You flash him a look of faint concern.

"Feels like Dracula's castle. You sure this is safe, Osamu?"

He simply grins impishly.

"It's called 'mood lighting', cutie. There is an atmosphere to be created!"

"Yeah, and possibly a wildfire."

"Boo, you're no fun. Besides, that sounds like a problem for future us. We live in the moment."

Dazai would never risk your safety and you know that, which is why you don't push the topic any further.

You two settle in, the candles illuminating you both with a warm flame that feels more comforting than you'd like to admit, you feel yourself becoming more immersed in the random little doodles and brush strokes you create as you both talk for hours about literally nothing while sipping on your tea. Nothing feels nice, for once and Dazai can see it in the way you slowly become less and less tense. So mindful, so beautiful.

After you fill your canvas, you set it down, and peer over at Dazai's.

"What'd you paint?"

He smiles sheepishly, and hides his.

"Not finished yet. No peeking!"

He stands up and in one swift motion, runs outside, while leaving you bewildered at the spontaneity of the situation. A few moments later, he runs back inside, huffing with his arms behind his back. He sits back down on the floor with you, criss crossed. He grabs his canvas, and puts something on it as he slowly unveils his work to you.

It's a single crisp leaf he must have plucked from the grass when it fell, the orange and reddish hue placed on the canvas that shows a cartoonishly painted tree as well. He murmurs, eyes trained lovingly on you but with that familiar playful tone.

"I wanted you to get a little air. It's good for one's mood, you know."

You slowly take the leaf, and twiddle it in your thumb as you begin to smile to yourself. You mutter back.

"The weather changes, moods change, it's so overwhelming sometimes..."

He slowly leans in a little closer and places a hand on the small of your back, inching you closer to him too. He wants to distract you from those thoughts affecting you, but it's getting harder when all he can think about is how much you affect him. He whispers.

"My mood never changes, you're the most precious thing I have ever seen all year round."

You look up at him, your eyes communicating what you feel, and he picks up on it with a silent confirmation. You hold each other's gaze for a long quiet moment and when you feel ready you lean into his chest, nuzzling into him. He envelops you in a hug that feels like the remedy you've been searching for this whole time, and it almost brings you to tears. You don't know it also does the same to him. He gives you a soft squeeze and leans down to your ear, his warm breath feeling like the way life is supposed to feel. You mumble, your voice slightly muffled against him.

"Thank you, Osamu. Love you."

He smiles at that. To be something so soothing to you, to be of use for once in his life, it's a feeling that he could never describe. He'll have to find the words when he covers you in kisses from head to toe later, when he makes sure you feel the full extent of his devotion to you through thick and thin. He exhales deeply.

"Change of season, change of mind... It doesn't matter to me. It's still you. It will always be you."

[k-daydreams]

The pursuit of Feeling Alive: I. Intro

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader, PLATONIC!IC x reader

Synopsis: cousin to Rhysand and Morrigan, y/n was once her family’s golden child. Faced with trials and tribulations her whole life, she needed reprieve— a distraction. Until a surprise homecoming opens Pandora’s box, and gives y/n a reality check. Especially facing her once close friend Azriel. Friends to Enemies to lovers trope.

Warnings: trauma, swearing, pining, angst?

Word Count: 4.8k

Author note: this is my first acotar fic! It was originally going to be a singular self indulgent azriel fic, but I can’t ever get to the point and I got too many ideas. Definitely not very canon with the timeline of series I think lol, just going to throw that out there. I’ve already rough drafted another chapter and thought I’d share the work on here. Feel free to share your thoughts! If you’d like to be added to a tag list let me know!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

Internally, you teetered on the edge of a nervous breakdown, ready to tear yourself apart from within. Externally, you wore a mask of cold calculation, hoping no one could detect your distress and near senility. Earlier in the day, your cousin Mor had mentioned that her high lord and your other dear cousin, Rhysand, had matters to discuss with your high lord, Helion. The reason for their meeting was of no concern to Mor to bother filling you in.

Your heart thumped against your chest, unsure of what to expect. It had been over fifty years since the Day Court and Night Court had engaged in official business since the end of Amarantha's reign of terror. You had seen Rhysand during the time under the mountain, where you spent nearly half a century with him until Feyre saved Prythian. Still holding visits with him after to report to him along with Mor, thanks to her frequent visits to Helion. However, the rest of the court, especially those you hadn't met since after Amarantha and Hybern, remained a mystery, with only Mor's updates for context.

Following your time under the mountain, you chose to reside in the Day Court under Helion's rule as an emissary between the two Solar Courts. It served as a means to shield yourself from feeling too deeply, allowing you to focus on healing from the traumatic events you endured during those fifty years. There were other matters you had yet to confront and come to terms with, voluntarily choosing to ignore them. By hiding away and conducting your business mainly with Mor and Rhys, you could maintain a sense of avoidance of your once home.

Now, in the dining hall of the palace where Helion and his inner court resided—including yourself—you found yourself on edge. Regardless of the pressing matters at hand, your high lord insisted on hosting a dinner for his court and other high fae to publicly display the alliance between the Night Court and the Day Court. Standing next to Helion's chair in the center of the room, you observed the lively chatter among the gathered individuals.

Your hands were clasped tightly in front of you, nervously inspecting your gown for nonexistent dirt, attempting to conceal your jitters. The gown itself could remind anyone of the place you resided and wanted to consider your new home. It was an off-the-shoulder nude gown with gossamer sleeves cascading around your arms. The bodice, nearly transparent, accentuated your bust, adorned with soft gold crystals intricately arranged over your body. The long skirts consisted of layers of gossamer, featuring two long slits up the front that revealed your legs. You appeared ethereal and angelic.

"You seem on edge," Helion called out to you, pulling you out of your internal thoughts. Your eyes scanned the room, observing every movement, before turning your attention to the main entrance. He gently traced his finger beneath the dainty black diamond bracelet adorning your wrist, bringing your attention back. This bracelet, along with matching pieces around your neck and ears, showed your affiliation with the visiting court. You wore them out of respect for your older cousins, never daring to show your true affection openly—a facade to conceal your true self. You knew they would appreciate it if they noticed.

"The Night Court was your home, was it not?" He questioned, his tone casual, as he glanced over his shoulder at the other members of the inner court to make sure they weren’t listening. Adjusting his shirt cuffs to his well-matched button-down very similar color to yours, he exuded regality from head to toe.

You mumbled stoically, "Was." Clearing your throat tentatively, your eyes returned to the main doors. "This is my home now, serving under your rule. I can't afford to be anything but cautious when the Night Court wishes to discuss an unknown matter."

You didn’t miss the way his eyes rolled. "Always playing this game, aren't you?" Helion scolded playfully. “There's no need to keep up the act. Rhys's actions beneath the mountain spoke volumes for our court."

You thought to yourself, 'But my actions don't, and I'd rather keep it that way.' Aloud, you replied smoothly, "One can't appear too soft when the Night Court steps through that door." The lie slipped easily from your lips.

"Are we referring to the whole court now or the spymaster we both have eyes for?" Helion hummed, reclining slightly in his chair as he took a sip of fae wine from his chalice-like glass. Damn him.

"I have no eyes for any man, particularly not a brute Illyrian man. And especially not one I've been watching wrestle with my cousin since we were young children," you retorted, feeling a surge of unease and clenching your jaw at the assumption.

"That's a match I would give up all my powers to witness," the handsome, dark-skinned lord purred, his words aimed at you.

You wanted to snap at him, your patience wearing thin at the mere mention of the tall Illyrian warrior. However, you managed to keep your composure in check. "It's hardly a match; Rhys won every time."

As if on cue, you felt the energy of several individuals entering the palace. Rhysand always loved a dramatic entrance. "Excellent, our guests have arrived," you murmured, straightening your shoulders as best as you could.

Helion followed suit, sitting more upright in his chair at the center of the hall. The rest of the inner court took their positions standing.

The sentries opened the doors for the guests. Morrigan was the first to enter, her golden hair elegantly curled, and she delightedly took you in before blinking a few times, returning to her sultry expression. Her red gown fitted her perfectly: a strapless piece that flowed around her as she walked. Following her was a sight you hadn't expected since hearing the gossip from Mor—Lucien Vanserra, adorned in deep autumnal colors that complemented his complexion and long, tidy red hair. He was an old confidant of yours when you had stayed in the spring court. You couldn't help but find it amusing, but you maintained a composed demeanor, concealing your bemusement at how out of place in the night court he seemed.

After Lucien came two beautiful high fae women. The younger one on the left wore a flowing champagne pink gown that accentuated her slim waist and showcased her porcelain fair skin. Her light brown hair was adorned with crystals and flowers, and she wore dainty opal teardrop earrings that complimented her brown eyes. On the right stood another woman in a form-fitting navy dress that subtly shimmered with every movement. The gown highlighted her curves and bust, while a sapphire-like sciphon necklace adorned her neck. Her darker brown hair was elegantly pinned up with a silver circlet. These must have been the High Lady's sisters, Elain and Nesta, whom you had heard so much about. Nesta's eyes had a hint of danger and coldness, while Elain's were filled with awe as they observed the dining hall.

Cassian followed the two women, and you discreetly coughed to suppress a snort. He appeared cleaned up, wearing a navy tunic and dark linen pants, with his hair slicked back and neatly tied. This was a different version of him from the rugged general you were accustomed to, not dressed in his usual fighting leathers to a formal affair. His siphons were cleverly disguised as jewelry pieces, and he had politely tucked back his larger wings. He seemed out of place as much as Lucien, but his mischievous eyes locked with yours, indicating he might have had similar thoughts about you.

Before you could even see her, you sensed Amren's piercing gaze from behind Cassian's towering figure. Her glowing silver eyes held an inscrutable expression, and her lips formed a slight grimace. She wore her usual grey color in a slip gown that elegantly draped down in the front. Though not dressed as extravagantly as the others, her presence demanded attention. A touch of red lipstick and a slightly tousled hairstyle were enough to enhance her beauty. You could see the rest of Helion’s inner court murmur from your peripheral, the usual whispers about the millennia’s old creature stalking towards them.

Rhysand made his entrance with the high lady from beside him, exuding confidence and power. He wore his customary dark attire that accentuated his commanding presence. His violet eyes locked with yours for a fleeting moment before he turned his attention to Helion. Feyre held her head high, a diadem hanging on the crown of her head, and her hair half up half down in loose waves. Her dress off the shoulder shone in sapphire crystals making it look like stars had been entwined on the gown. She was gorgeous as a mortal even when she was malnourished when you saw her under the mountain, but as a high fae she was even more devastating.

Last of the group, you spotted Azriel, his shadows swirling subtly around him, and your breath caught in your throat. His shadows slinked up his dark tunic clad shoulder seeming to whisper in his ear. He looked over at you making eye contact discreetly. His features were hard but something unreadable in his eyes as he observed you. You didn’t miss the slight bob of his throat as he looked quickly away to a distant corner in the room acting stoic. His hair was pushed back showing his sharp jawline, and you could see his tattoos peeking out his shirt. His silent and brooding presence always managed to unnerve you, unable to get a good read on what could’ve been going through his head. You refused to let your guard down, not wanting to think about the shadowsinger that stood mere feet away. This had been the first time you have seen each other in person since you were able to leave under the mountain.

The Night Court all stood in front of Helion, and he bowed his head in greeting. You did the same along with the rest of the inner court. The introductions began, and the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. Helion gracefully welcomed his guests, exchanging pleasantries and acknowledging the significance of the meeting. You observed the interactions, keeping a blank face despite the tumultuous emotions swirling within you. It felt like you were looking into your old life from the outside watching the inner circle, and your heart ached for a second.

Eventually, it was time for you to step forward and join the introductions. As you approached Rhysand, his gaze never wavered from yours. His lips curved into a knowing smile, a silent acknowledgment of the past. You stood before him, your heart pounding, but your expression remained composed.

"High Lord Rhysand," you greeted him, keeping your tone neutral and titles formal. "It has been a while."

His voice was smooth as he responded, “Y/n, always a pleasure. Allow me to introduce my wife and High Lady, Feyre.”

You bowed respectfully to the High Lady. “I am in awe, Feyre Cursebreaker. What an honor to have you grace the Day Court with your presence.”

A smile graced her lips in response. “Thank you for the warm welcome. I have heard so much about you, Y/n.” She took your hands in hers, and you were taken aback by the warm informal gesture. Your gaze fell upon the intricate tattoo adorning her hand and forearm, and in that moment, your heart swelled with joy for your cousin, and you dared to steal a glance at Rhys. His eyes were already fixed on you, and you couldn’t help but notice the subtle hints of tenderness and anticipation shining within them. You were so happy for him.

The formalities continued, and you exchanged polite words with Lucien, Elain, and Nesta. You longed for a chance to sit down and talk with them, to hear about their experiences since being freed from the cauldron. Your gaze wandered momentarily to Lucien, who stood near Morrigan, his amber eyes briefly glancing in your direction. A flicker of recognition passed between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of shared history. You had both suffered under the rule of the Spring Court, and it was a trauma you preferred to keep buried for now. But you couldn’t deny that you treasured the moments the young emissary had kept you sane within the trauma.

You stood next to Helion along with another Day Court emissary as Rhys, Amren, and Helion discussed some political topics. Deep down, you yearned for a moment alone with the inner circle, away from the prying eyes and expectations. But for now, you had to focus on the diplomatic matters at hand and navigate the complexities of the gathering. As the conversations flowed around you, you remained attentive, gathering information and assessing the dynamics between the courts.

Throughout the evening, conversations flowed, alliances were strengthened, and unspoken words hung heavy in the air. You played your part, engaging in polite conversation and maintaining the facade of an emissary, all the while battling the internal storm raging within you. It was beginning to wear on you though. Watching from afar at how Mor mingled with Nesta and Cassian. The Illyrian man had his arm around the oldest Archeon sister as they nodded and chuckled at Mor, and you wanted to smile. You had never expected Cassian finding a mate before you, but here you were.

A lot has changed since you had left indeed, and the longing you felt came back.

“You’re not my prisoner, you know. Feel free to mingle,” Helion’s voice chimed from behind, breaking through your thoughts.

“Isn’t that a bit informal?” you responded, sipping your glass of wine.

He arched an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “To talk at a party?” He snatched your wine from your hand.

You turned to face him, reaching for your half-filled glass that he held teasingly away from you. “Ah, don’t you think it’s a bit informal for an emissary to get drunk?” He added a playful spark in his eyes.

“To drink at a party?” You volleyed back, grinning mischievously as you continued your playful struggle for the glass.

“Why don’t you practice the talking part with Rhysand?” Helion suggested, his eyes glinting with amusement. “It seems like he’s eager to have a word with his dear cousin.” He gestured subtly behind you, and amidst the revelry and banter, Rhysand and Feyre made their way toward you both. However, before you could react, your gaze caught Azriel’s intense hazel eyes from their table behind the approaching couple, where he sat next to Elain. His massive wings appeared tense and uncomfortably confined by the chair. Elain chatted with him, but it seemed his attention was elsewhere, fixated on you. His shadows still whispered in his ear as one crept across the table.You resisted the urge to shudder, maintaining your composure, and quickly turned your attention back to Helion, whose grin remained firmly in place.

“Helion, may we borrow Y/n for a moment?” Rhysand inquired, one eyebrow raised, his gaze flickering between you and Helion.

Helion practically pushed you into Feyre’s arms. “Go ahead, I was just informing her that she’s free from her duties until later!” he announced with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The tips of your ears burned with embarrassment as you realized his intent to encourage your mingling.

“Thank you, My Lord,” you replied, bowing your head with a touch of sarcasm. Rhysand extended his arm, and you looped yours through it, allowing him to guide you towards their table. A nervous gulp betrayed your anticipation.

Feyre looked at you with concern. “Are you alright?” she asked, her tone gentle and caring.

“May we speak on the balcony?” you requested, your voice filled with meekness.

“Of course, it’s getting a bit warm in here,” Rhysand agreed, leading the three of you towards the balcony bathed in soft faelight.

You all leaned casually against the balcony railing, observing the lively feast taking place inside.

"How's the Day Court treating you?" he asked in a relaxed tone, as if to put you at ease. Away from prying eyes, you felt your shoulders relax. It felt good to be with your cousin where you both didn’t have to wear a mask.

"Well," you replied, "the Day Court doesn't quite compare to the beauty of the Night Court, but the days are undeniably bright." You struggled to find a suitable comparison for the Day Court's allure to the Night Court.

Rhys and Feyre almost snorted out their wine, their amusement evident. "I wonder why," Rhys sarcastically murmured.

Choosing to ignore your cousin's comment, you continued, "I've been making progress translating some texts for the court, and delving into a lot of reading.”

It seemed as though the High Lord and Lady expected to hear more and urged you to continue, but they realized you had nothing more to share.

Rhys cleared his throat. "Wow, that sounds like quite a lot," he remarked. You could tell he wanted to throw a snide remark, but a warning look from his mate kept him at bay. Where was Feyre centuries ago when you always found to be the butt of your cousin's jokes?

You shrugged. "Keeps me distracted." From your vantage point, you had a perfect view of the inner circle's table. Mor, Amren, Azriel, Lucien, Nesta, and Cassian were all seated there, drinking and picking at their food. Helion even made sure Amren had a chalice of beast's blood. You missed being a part of that group, laughing and sharing moments with them. The only person in the Day Court you truly felt comfortable with was Helion, and even that remained behind closed doors.

"Come home," the words made your shoulders tense. It wasn't your cousin who had spoken, but Feyre. You looked at her, finding understanding in her eyes, as if she knew what you were going through.

Your gaze wandered back to the inner circle. Your eyes fell on Azriel, who was listening with a ghost of a smile on his lips, as Cassian animatedly spoke, his wings flaring about and nearly knocking over Lucien's wine glass. The group tried to hide their laughter while Amren scolded them. Azriel's shadows discreetly moved the glass out of Cassian's wingspan, hiding his amusement.

"They miss you," Rhys genuinely expressed. "I miss you, and even the House misses you." Tears welled up, tightening your throat. "He won’t say it out loud, but he misses you too."

You didn't need to be told who he was. You knew.

"I didn't even say goodbye," you spoke with a heavy heart, guilt washing over you.

"That was over fifty years ago, Y/n," Rhys reminded you gently.

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "We have texts for you to translate if it’s a means to keep you busy, we could even have you train with Madja. Want an apartment on the opposite side of town from the House of Wind? Consider it done. Desire a cottage in the middle of nowhere? It's yours. Just please, stop running away," Rhys pleaded.

You felt tears welling up, but you willed them away. "I... I just can't leave," you stammered. You could feel your heart torn.

"You can," Feyre said sympathetically, holding your hands. "Helion asked us to come and talk to you."

"We won't force you, but he mentioned that you've changed in the last few years," Rhys added. Feyre's grip on your hands tightened.

"Please talk to them maybe and think about it?" she requested. You knew she meant the inner circle.

Biting your lip, you contemplated. "I'll find you in a bit. I need some time alone."

With a nod, Rhysand and Feyre understood your need for solitude. They exchanged a brief glance before making their way back inside, leaving you alone on the balcony.

Leaning against the railing, you let the cool evening breeze brush against your skin, smell of wildflower and honey in the air, the quietness of the moment allowing your thoughts to swirl. Images of your past, the friendships you had forged and the bonds you had left behind, filled your mind. The longing in your heart grew stronger with each passing second your family stood in the same room as you. A longing you pushed deep down when you were still under the mountain, uncertain of seeing your loved ones again.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, trying to not let tears slip. It was true that you had changed over the years, that the weight of your experiences had shaped you into someone different. But running away had only prolonged the pain, and you knew it was time to confront it. If your cousins had endured the pain, you were sure you could too.

Slowly, you pushed yourself away from the railing, determination igniting within you. You couldn't stay on the sidelines any longer. The inner circle had always been your family, even if circumstances had driven you apart. And now, as you stood on the cusp of a decision, you realized that it was time to bridge that gap.

Stepping back inside, you navigated through the crowd, searching for the familiar faces you had missed dearly. You found them at their table, still engaged in their playful banter, laughter filling the air. Taking a deep breath, you approached, your footsteps faltering only slightly.

As you reached the table, a hush fell over the group, their gazes turning towards you. Azriel's eyes locked with yours, and the shadows around him seemed to ripple, as though mirroring the tumultuous emotions within you.

"Can I join you?" you asked softly, your voice carrying a blend of trepidation and hope.

The response was immediate and overwhelming. Cassian's boisterous laughter echoed as he clapped you on the back, nearly knocking the breath out of you. Nesta's sharp gaze softened for a brief moment, Elain offered a warm but wary smile, and Lucien's amber eyes held surprise. Morrigan's voice was a welcoming melody as she pulled out a chair for you, and Amren, in her own enigmatic way, nodded approvingly.

Taking your seat among them, you couldn't help but feel a sense of homecoming. And as you settled into the comfort of their presence, you could feel your frozen heart just dethaw slightly.

“Y/n, I knew you were always shy, but around us?” Mor teased you endearingly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You look so beautiful tonight!” She gushed, her words filled with genuine admiration as she played with a strand of your hair. “The dress would be better in a darker color though.” She whispered the last part so only you and the inner circle could hear, her voice laced with a conspiratorial tone.

“The gown color does wash you out,” Amren chimed in, her bored expression not fully hiding a hint of amusement.

A laugh bubbled out of your chest, surprising even yourself. "Not the first thing I thought I would hear from you in years," you quipped, a playful smile tugging at your lips. Amren raise her glass to you before taking a sip of the thick liquid in the cup.

“Better than that raggedy spring court piece you came back in, though," Rhysand interjected, his voice filled with playful banter as he and Feyre settled into the extra seats at the table. The original inner circle chuckled at the memory.

Despite that being one of the worst days of your life, you couldn't help but smile too. The shared laughter brought a warmth to the air, softening the edges of past wounds.

“You should’ve seen the dress I came to the Night Court in," Feyre chimed in, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Another monstrosity by Ianthe," Lucien muttered into his glass before taking a sip, his voice tinged with a touch of disdain. Your eyes widened at the snide comment, but the group erupted into laughter, momentarily forgetting the weight of your burdens.

As the night wore on, Helion raised his glass, signaling a toast to the alliance between the two courts. The hall fell silent, and you raised your glass as well, a faint smile playing at the corner of your lips. The toast created a joyous noise as everyone in attendance drank, and the music started playing. Mor instantly beamed and grabbed Feyre’s hand, followed by Elain, leading them to the dance floor. Rhysand and Lucien joined them, their steps filled with a carefree grace. Cassian took Nesta’s hand, and they followed suit. Amren excused herself to converse with the emissary from the Day Court with a request of Azriel to accompany her.

You turned to Mor, insisting you would join them shortly, as you wished to find Helion. She nodded understandingly, giving you a knowing smile as she disappeared into the swirling crowd. You made your way toward Helion, feeling the warmth of the night and the drinks starting to loosen your tongue and heart.

“Do you wish to get rid of me so easily?” you feigned offense, walking up to his side. The merriment of the evening had given you a newfound boldness. Your body hadn’t felt this light in ages. Your gaze met his, and a flicker of understanding passed between you.

Helion shook his head, a gentle smile gracing his features. “No, darling, never. I just think your heart belongs somewhere else.” His words were filled with gentle encouragement. He patted the arm of his chair, offering you a seat upon the rest. With an eye roll and a smile, you accepted, settling into the plush chair arm.

"Your presence is lovely, your duty is commendable, but I couldn't sit here watching you turn to stone any longer," Helion continued, his voice filled with genuine concern. His finger absentmindedly found the wrist under your bracelet, his touch a feather-light brush against your skin. A wave of warmth washed over you, and the faint scent of wildflowers drifted through the air.

"Besides, maybe it's time you face a certain Illyrian man," he whispered discreetly, his words carrying a hint of suggestion.

You looked at him, confusion swirling within you. His eyes subtly glanced over to the corner, and you followed his gaze. Azriel stood behind Amren, his intense gaze fixed on Helion and you. His jaw was clenched, and his wings were taut with tension, as if holding back an impending storm. The sight of him sent a jolt of both excitement and apprehension through your veins.

"I can't ignore those ravenous stares, knowing he wants to rip me to shreds, and not in the way I like," he added, teasingly toying with your bracelet as if oblivious to Azriel's presence. The Day Court High Lord knew exactly what he was doing it seemed. Azriel couldn’t have been glaring at Helion; it had to be you. Memories of your past argument with Azriel flashed through your mind, the intensity of the argument still fresh. You had both nearly destroyed each other. You hadn’t ever heard you two speak so many volatile and vulgar things— especially at each other.

"I could never forgive him for what he said," you sighed. "What's even worse is that I can't forgive myself for what I did, not only to him, but to my family. I feel responsible for my ex-husband's actions towards them." You admitted, realizing that you had never spoken those words aloud before.

Beside you, the lord sucked his teeth in retort. "You can't blame yourself for what your father put you through by selling you to that pretty little beast." He sat up straighter and looked at you earnestly. "Nobody blames you, Y/n." You found yourself unabashedly staring back at Azriel as he was still looking at the interaction between you and the high lord.

“We all carry burdens from our past, but we mustn't let them define our future," he said gently. "You were caught in a web spun by others, but you have the strength to break free. It's time to forgive yourself and embrace the healing you deserve."

You nodded nimbly, biting your lip in contemplation. You would always hold gratitude for Helion. His kindness you’ve experienced for the last several years was more than what you deserved and needed, but he still provided it. If you returned to the night court you wouldn’t have known where you stood in the court. What your rank would be, what your friends thought of you, and where to even pick back up in your life. You just knew you haven’t felt this alive in awhile, and you craved the feeling.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

[x] next chapter

Let me know your thoughts, and feel free to like and reblog! I might change the title but that’s tbd.

[mxtxfanatic]

So @fireandgrimstone and I once had a discussion about how mxtx handles Xie Lian’s crossdressing in tgcf, the gist of which was whether or not it was falling into a gender essentialist trope ("you can always tell when a man is pretending to be a woman!") despite how much of the story tackles a kind of gender fluidity amongst other characters. I said I’d return to it once I reread it again to see how I felt reading those bits in context, so here I am!

The first instance of Xie Lian cross-dressing in the story is during the very first mission: the ghost bride. In order to find out who is kidnapping brides in the area, Xie Lian dresses like a bride to act as bait. When he first gets dressed, this is how he is described:

If you asked anyone to come and see, they would be able to tell with a glance that this was a young boy with a gentle and handsome looking face.

—Chapt. 6: The Ghost Holds a Wedding, The Crown Prince Climbs Onto the Marriage Sedan (Part 1)

You can "tell" that he is still a man, even as he wears the wedding outfit, we are told. However, later on, Little Ying comes and helps fix up Xie Lian so that he looks more like a bride. When next the others see his face, this is how he is described:

How could Xie Lian have known that a girl’s skill in make-up created legendary and mystifying results? Little Ying had only taught him how to fix his eyebrows by drawing them elegantly, how to powder his face with some white powder and how to dot his lips with deep, red rouge. However, if he didn’t speak, Xie Lian looked exactly like a gentle, soft and beautiful young lady.

—Chapt. 9: The Mountain’s Locked Ancient Temple, The Forest of Hanging Corpses (Part One)

A little bit of makeup and reshaping his outfit has transformed Xie Lian from someone you could tell was a man "from a glance" to someone who "looked exactly like a gentle, soft, and beautiful young lady." Even the crowd of men acting as "guards" could not tell Xie Lian was a man, and at no stage in this entire arc is Xie Lian uncomfortable with the act of cross-dressing, at being honestly mistake for being a woman, or Mu Qing and Feng Xin's negative reactions. He is indifferent to it all.

The next major moment we see him cross-dressing is when he is running away from the group of cultivators hunting Hua Cheng:

Behind the curtains sat a woman, her long raven hair hung a loose bun, her neck slender and white with a black choker and a thin silver chain circled around. Her robe was half stripped, revealing her snow white shoulder and a small bit of her back, looking to drape and fall, making one’s face burn and heart race.

When the curtains were pulled, the figure of that woman trembled, covering her face with her sleeves, and whimpered softly, as if she was shocked and terrified by such a sudden and brutish act. Heaven’s Eye instantly dropped the curtains, “I-I-I-I-I-I’M SORRY!!!”

The band of monks and cultivators who followed after Heaven’s Eye all screamed too, “WHAT A SIN, WHAT A SIN!” And they all covered their own eyes. Using this chance, that ‘woman’ whipped around -- who else could it be but Xie Lian? Hua Cheng was sitting in his arms and was only blocked from view by Xie Lian’s body. Although Xie Lian was a man and his shoulders were wider than the average woman, but he only pulled down half of his robe to expose the best angle, creating the perfect effect.

—Chapt. 137: Upon Barren Hills; Rioting the Black Hearted Inn (Part One)

Just as with the makeup and reshaping of the bride outfit, wearing a woman's robe, stripping to show off some skin at an angle, and whimpering a little was enough to trick this group of men into thinking he was a woman. The cultivators are so embarrassed, they run away, but even the passerbies who catch a glimpse of Xie Lian fleeing later in that same outfit have the vague idea that it is a "woman" they're seeing running with a child. Then, in the same outfit, Xie Lian enters an inn and we get this hilarious interaction:

A moment later, the door opened, and several attendants came forward to greet, their faces full of smiles, “Good si...”

They had wanted to say ;good sir’, but seeing the person before them was wearing women’s robes, they changed, “Mis...”

Before the word left their lips, Xie Lian emerged fully from the darkness with Hua Cheng in hand. If there’s a child, then it wasn’t an unmarried lady, so they changed again, “Mada...”

‘Madam’ was still half on their lips and Xie Lian’s face was fully illuminated by the light within the inn. Although this person was dressed in women’s robes and had a gentle countenance, if they must be honest, no matter how they looked it was the face of a man. The attendants all became mute, and it was a good moment before they went back to their original greeting, “Good sir, please come inside.”

—Chapt. 137: Upon Barren Hills; Rioting the Black Hearted Inn (Part One)

None of the attendants are able to tell Xie Lian's gender just from a glance. They rely on context clues (his clothes, the fact that he's with a child, then finally, his bare face) to finally decide that he is a man. Xie Lian is not discomforted by this either, not even to correct them. In fact, the narrative says that he feels no mental or physical discomfort as he is. Mind you, in this world, it is established that gods can and do change their physical forms to match a certain gender, but despite having the power to do so, not only does Xie Lian not take this route but he is still able to successfully appear as a cis woman to both strangers and his closest friends with only the minimalist of effort. Neither he nor the narrative place any expectations on how he "should" feel being man mistaken for a woman, nor do they waste time trying to explain to other characters why he is dressed as one like what one would usually see with this trope. Xie Lian simply exists in the form most comfortable to him and changes minor appearances to produce the aesthetic that he needs when he needs it. No more explanation is needed.

The thing about Xie Lian, too, is that while he is assured in his own gender, this does not translate into him being adverse to either weaponizing gender to reach a certain goal (such as being bait in a mission or hiding from enemies or just finding a dangerous object) or others doing as they please. Shi Qingxuan repeatedly attempts to wheedle Xie Lian into transforming into a female form with him, but though Xie Lian refuses for himself, he never shows disgust that Shi Qingxuan prefers his female form, unlike other gods.

Due to all of this, I don't see the repeated mentions of Xie Lian's maleness within these cross-dressing scenes as meant to reinscribe the gender binary but, instead, to impress upon readers how simple it is to throw gender into question. Gender is just that malleable and its perception so easily manipulated that even one of the most manliest men in the story can be viewed without a shadow of a doubt as a woman. Xie Lian is proof.

[novantinuum]

Pink Onyx AU- An Analysis and Theory Post, Part 2

[Part 1] | [Part 2- You are here!] | [Part 3] | [Part 4] | [Part 5]

~

Welcome back, folks! This is part 2 of my analysis series on the excellent @pink-onyx-au comic made by @ceephorsshitshow. And for those who are tuning in fresh just now, please check out the first part- linked above- for more information on what these posts are all about. A lot of this analysis will build on what came previously.

We’re jumping right back into it.

__

Question Two: What is Pink Steven’s whole deal in this comic, anyways?

Fans of this comic have long pointed out the oozing pink looming at the corner of many of the earlier comic panels when Steven and Jasper are fused, and the strong resistance Steven’s own gem seems to have to being Onyx at all.

(Episode 1: Pages 17 & 18)

In some small way, even if he never states it any more bluntly than he does in the panels above, even Steven himself recognizes what’s going on. The reason their first fusion attempt doesn’t take is because half of him doesn’t want anything to do with Jasper at all.

And with the way Jasper speaks of fusion like it’s a tool to conquer, it’s not very hard to glean one of the reasons why.

(Episode 2: Page 17)

Pink Steven, probably: And That Was My Cue To Say Yikes™

So, yeah. If you’ve read the comic, you know what happens after this. Steven allows Jasper to front for a while completely unhindered, genuinely curious about what she thinks he should be using his powers for. 

(Episode 4: Page 3)

This decision isn’t inherently a wrong one- in fact, from one angle I think it shows a lot of mature openness to go to such lengths to try and understand someone you feel you don’t have much in common with. However, it IS a decision that Steven himself doesn’t seem to be in consensus over. And we know this because of how he physically responds to Jasper’s violent use of these powers, and what the speech bubble styles (there’s a lot of that scribbly pink lettering throughout this scene) can tell us about his mental state.

(Episode 3: Page 7)

Like, just look at the top set of eyes while Jasper’s taking this fused body on a destructive spin around the woods while abusing his powers. They are alert, they are pink, and they are fucking ANGRY.

Not only that, but this part of Steven almost seems to be feeling a bit vindictive towards Jasper for the harm she’s caused him in the past, because he takes a minor bit of control for just a moment to summon that damned death barrier again, in a move that feels intensely like a silent threat to me.

(Episode 3: Page 9)

Jasper confirms herself in Episode 4 that she did NOT consciously summon this barrier. So, it was Steven, then. Or at least… It was a part of Steven.

(Episode 3: Page 10)

I feel like many readers contextualize this moment as Steven’s Gem half chastising Jasper for abusing his powers, but I personally read it as him calling out Steven himself- Steven as a whole- for allowing her to have full reign when he knew deep down he was in conflict over the idea of this whole fusion to begin with. The panels with the visualization of Steven’s human half struggling to crawl his way through this gummed up, frothy pink fusion mindscape while his other half takes the reigns immediately calls to mind the shot of Jasper struggling for control in Malachite’s mindscape in the season 2 episode "Chille Tid." 

Not only that, but take a close look at human Steven’s eyes in that previous panel…

They’re dulled, not drawn with full black irises like they usually are. 

(Episode 3: Page 13)

And guess how full hybrid Steven is drawn just a few panels later, right after Pink Steven pulls away his power (“But you’re starting over just like I did!”) and Onyx splits? Those same, concerningly dulled eyes. Reminds me a lot of how he looked during both the cliffhanger of Change Your Mind and when his gem was glitching out in the movie. Given the context of the scene and the internal instability he was facing, I take this to mean that even his gem powers have briefly been nerfed, rendering him just as weak at this moment as he’d be without that gem at all. Hell, this whole page basically reads as him outright bargaining with this part of himself to summon one last panel to break Jasper’s fall.

“No. She can’t… She can’t… Please. She didn’t… didn’t… mean…”

So yeah, this episode in particular is the best glimpse we’ve gotten at the blatant opinions and feelings of this part of Steven so far… but quite frankly, I think the visual motif of the ominous pink goop oozing in at the edges of panels continues to be a powerful reminder of his constant presence. He’s watching things closely. I think the last thing he wants right now is for Steven as a whole to end up hurt by this again.

Basically, in my head, the ooze is Pink Steven’s “Mmmm don’t like that” signifier, lol.

__

Question Three: What is up with Onyx’s fusion dream?

The beginning of Episode 7 starts with Onyx caught in the middle of a strange dream.

(Episode 7: Page 1)

In my mind, this is absolutely one of those strange mixed-up fusion dreams- the subject and presentation influenced by the thoughts and memories of the individuals involved in said fusion. I think this dream is a combo of the memories from Rose that Steven can access through his gem and Jasper’s own fears/insecurities.

You have a visualization of the corruption blast, an event that Rose experienced firsthand- thus, exists as dormant memory within Steven’s gem… and then I think Jasper’s component of this is the perspective, and how it compares to her experience in being struck down by a diamond attacking from the sky in much a similar way. Only, unlike Rose… she didn’t have a shield to hide behind.

Part of me kind of wonders if the emergence of this dream means Jasper’s den is IN the same place where Rose shielded her friends from the corruption blast- since usually, these memory related dreams that Steven and his fusions have are drawn out by being in the exact locations the memories took place. It’s kinda hard to say, though. In the one shot we have of Rose facing the corruption blast, the environment looks entirely different (way flatter, not reddened + weapons on the ground) than the environment in Onyx’s dream. In fact, the environment in Onyx’s dream looks far closer to this:

The context given in the episode "A Single Pale Rose" shows that this is the Strawberry Battlefield right after the corruption blast itself. (An earlier shot shows the floating islands unique to this area.) You get the reddened soil and the weapons, like we see with what Onyx is dreaming, and the hills. 

So, I think our most likely possibilities are as follows: 

Rose defending the Crystal Gems from the corruption blast DID take place in this location, and the actual shot of her pulling up the shield is just colored a lot differently… perhaps to account for the intense glow of the Diamonds’ power.

The location visualized in Onyx’s dream is actually related to a Jasper-specific memory of the war, which is merely getting mixed up with the ambient memory of Rose seeing the corruption blast careening down at her.

No matter which of the two is true, the major crux of this dream is how it parallels Jasper’s experience of seeing Steven let loose his shattering strike from the sky. This is important, because it is yet another piece of evidence that she is truly, DEEPLY bothered by this moment, even if she often acts otherwise.

When Steven bluntly asks her why she’s not bothered by him shattering her, she deflects…

(Episode 1: Page 7) 

…completely brushing over any and all feelings she may harbor over the matter to comment on how shattering is a completely normal thing for the old eras of Gemkind. However, later on, she admits that she felt upset when a part of Steven summoned that spiked barrier again while fused as Onyx.

(Episode 4: Page 4)

This signals to me that processing this event is going to be a large part of Jasper’s arc in this comic. This is the capital ‘B’ Big Trauma that she is burying under all her false bravado and her tough exterior.

I think it is also important to note that we see a visualization of the battlefield from this dream once more, when Onyx’s own personality finally comes to the forefront for the first time. We’ll delve into this matter in the next discussion section.

__

Look out for the next post in this series at 7am PST tomorrow. Farewell!

[eroscomet]

Echoes of the Past

Chapter one- The Unexpected Hour

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Paring: Wednesday Addams X Fem!OC

Context: During her winter break, Wednesday Addams notices a strange girl entering the empty house next door, claiming it as her own. Intrigued, Wednesday confronts her, only to uncover eerie inconsistencies in the girl's story that hint at something far beyond the ordinary. As the girl’s strange familiarity with the house clashes with Wednesday’s reality, a chilling mystery unfolds, leaving Wednesday to question what forces might be at play.

Warnings: None that I can think of.

Word count: 2.3k+

A/N: Hey lovelies, it has been a while since I have been active. I made a different post somewhat explaining why. I am back though and ready to write! While I was gone, I got more ideas of different stories! Let me know what you guys think! This will definitely be a series and I hope you guys like where this one goes. I think this will be a bit of a slow burn.

Not proof read

╰┈➤Series Masterlist

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Nevermore had gone on their Christmas break, meaning Wednesday was back home in the Addams' manor with her family. The original Addams manor was known to be alone atop a hill, secluded from all those who were anywhere near normal. Alas, Gomez and Morticia felt that it was time for a scenery change, so they had moved when Wednesday was about ten years old, long before she had been sent to Nevermore.

This manor was just as brooding and perfect for the family. They had accommodated to the home quickly as their last. They familiarized themselves with their neighbors, though they wanted nothing to do with the strange family. All but their neighbors next door, the Walters. They were an old couple who didn't know much about what was going on around them half of the time. This made them almost as strange to the neighborhood as the Addams. The Addams were most friendly to the Walters over the years as they had been just as kind to them since the beginning. 

Wednesday found that winter break was the perfect time to catch up on her writing, especially since her family knows not to bother her during this writing time. She spends her time in her room using her typewriter to finish her novel. Feeling like she could never finish it at Nevermore due to Enid's constant need to express herself on the form. Whether it be music, talking, inviting people over to their dorm, or gossiping, Wednesday had found it exceedingly difficult to focus on her work.

Again, like any other day, she was writing. She always had her desk in front of her window to peer out every once in a while. As she was typing away on her typewriter today, something had caught her eye. A girl? Wearing odd clothing that seemed far too old-fashioned for these times. Wearing a white collared shirt that seemed to be a button-up shirt, a black tie with a v-neck dark green colored jumper, a pair of black pleated pants, accompanied by a pair of black boots, and a black leather jacket. 

The girl wiped her hands on her trousers as if she had just jumped the fence that guarded Walter's home. Her boots made a trail of shoe prints in the snow, almost as if she had come out of the woods behind the home. Wednesday, never in her time in the neighborhood, had seen or heard of the Walters having a daughter. They had only ever said they never had children and couldn't have them even if they wanted. Given that, the Walters were out on a Christmas vacation, and they had been for over a week now. 

They don't have any pets that need tending to... Then who was this? A vandal? A thief? Is someone coming to rob the poor old couple's home? Wednesday's thoughts were cut off by the girl reaching the opening in the backdoor that seemingly was left unlocked by the couple. Just then, the girl had disappeared into the home, out of visible sight from Wednesday's window.

Her curiosity had been piqued, who was this girl? More than that, what was her purpose in breaking into her family's dear friend's home? Wednesday stopped her writing, closing the lid to her typewriter. Taking another glance out the window to the new 'character' in Walter's residence, narrowing her gaze as she did her best to get a good look at the girl.She glared out the window with her arms crossed while she debated whether or not she ought to investigate.

Her curiosity had gotten the better of her in the end, and after a good moment of thought, she decided to pay the girl a 'visit' next door. Grabbing a coat and slipping out of her bedroom as well as out the manor's back door. As she walked across the snowy grass and swiftly exited the Addam's family manor's backyard through the gate. Her footprints followed behind her on the snow as she followed the girl's footsteps past Walter's back gate. 

"This better be good.." Wednesday had grumbled under her breath as she neared the backdoor of Walter's home.

Surprisingly, when she had turned the knob. The door opened without a hitch. She didn't waste any more time as she walked right in, closing the door behind her. The girl was in the kitchen, back turned from the backdoor, which she didn't realize she left unlocked when she entered. The footprints of her boots on the door's mat. Her eyes had been scanning the kitchen, brows knitted together in a confused state.

"Quite the trespasser, aren't you?" Wednesday's voice broke through the silence of the house. She had taken slow and measured steps toward the girl, a smirk on her face.

The girl had acted quickly, as she heard Wednesday speak up, her hand reaching to grab a knife that was slid inside ofthe rack. She turned around quickly to face Wednesday.

"No, what are you doing in my home?" She said defensively as she pointed the knife towards Wednesday's direction, her eyes scanning over the brooding girl's figure.

Wednesday's eyes flickered down to the knife in the mysterious girl's hand, but she didn't make any effort to back away. Instead, she leaned against the nearest counter, folding her arms over her chest and tilting her head to the side with her usually daunting smirk,

"Your home? Don't be ridiculous, you're a burglar."

"This is my home! I just came back from a walk through the woods!" She had said back defensively as she shook her head.

"Look, my other pair of shoes are right by the door!" The hand that held the knife pointed at the kitchen's doorway, nothing there. Her eyes had been trained on Wednesday, not noticing that her shoes weren't there.

"I'm not sure what you're trying to pull, but they're not there. Do you expect me to believe you somehow teleported into your own home, unannounced? No, you're a thief," The Addam's girl said as she pushed herself off the counter, taking a step closer.

The other girl's expression hardened as she looked over by the kitchen doorway, realizing that her shoes weren't there.

"What the..? They were just here!" She said in confusion as she stared at where she knew her shoes had once been.

Wednesday couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as she continued to watch the girl look around the kitchen in confusion.

"So... What? Are you claiming that that just vanished into thin air? That's impossible, you and I both know it."

"I live here, I'm telling you!" She replied as she shook her head, putting the knife back into the rack before speaking again,

"Look, if this isn't my house, then how would I know that the living room has a dark green rug and black leather furniture?" She crossed her arms, leaving the kitchen and entering the living room where the rug was instead a red and gold color with an old design, along with brown furniture that wasn't leather.

"What..?" She said in confusion as she looked at the living room. She slowly stepped forward, looking at the living room in utter confusion and shock.

Wednesday, who had followed her into the living room, not far behind her with her arms folded across her chest. A dry laugh that sounded almost like a scoff escaped Wednesday, her suspicions slowly being confirmed.

"I knew it. You're a trespasser, and you're a very bad one at that. No good thief would make such a stupid mistake."

"What the..." The girl had muttered out breathlessly, unable to focus on the words leaving Wednesday's mouth. All she could focus on was the living room that had drastically changed for her. Her eyes searched every inch of the living room.

"Where's my mom's lamp and painting? It was just...here....and so was my father's wrenches that my mom begged for him to put away.." She said as she eyed the coffee table and the room. Her eyes landed on the flat-screened television in the home.

"What the hell is this?" Her hand reached out and continuously pressed on the screen as if something was going tohappen.

The Addam's girl only watched quietly as the girl paced the room, more amused with every second that passed. As the girl looked at the television and tried to interact with it, Wednesday had to bite back a chuckle.

"That's a television... Surely even you know what a television is. What, are from the 1800's?"

"What? Where's the RCA CTC-11? My dad worked overtime just to afford it for the family.." The mysterious girl said as she ran her hand across the television's screen, watching as her hand left a trail across the screen. Her eyebrows only knitted together further into confusion.

"We could never afford something like this.."

"RCA? The television you speak of is very outdated, especially when we have this." Wednesday replied. The girl's confusion was a bit strange, and Wednesday was growing more curious by the second. She could hear the slight hint of disbelief in the girl's voice as her hand had retracted from the television.

"What? How could the RCA be outdated when it's 1964 and the television just came out in 61'? That doesn't make any sense." She said so confidently as if it were true, looking at Wednesday as if she were in the wrong.

Wednesday's eyes had slightly widened for a brief moment, her mouth agape in disbelief. 1964? No, something was wrong with this girl, and the more she spoke, the more Wednesday was beginning to understand. She paused for a moment as if processing the information she just received.

"..1964? You're sure of that?"

"Yes!" The girl exclaimed, looking at Wednesday as if she were crazy, "I was just here! My family was just here!"

"And what year were you born in?" She asked as her eyes darted over the girl's face, searching for any sign of deceit or a hint that she may be lying. But there was nothing. The girl was confused, and she firmly believed what she was saying. Wednesday's curiosity peaked again.

"1947? Why?" The mysterious girl had said in confusion, "Are you the new neighbors or what?" 

"No, I'm not a recent neighbor. We've been living right next door for quite some time now.."

"What? Surely I would have known of you?" Her eyes scanned the brooding girl's figure before returning to her face, "This feels like someone is pulling on my leg. Where did everything go then"

"This is going to sound like a strange question, but just humor me for a minute," Wednesday said as she followed the girl into the kitchen, keeping a few feet of distance between them. "What's your name?"

"Alex Davis- Well, Alexandra, but I always hate when people call me my full name. My family bought this house in 1951." Alex muttered as her hands ran over the new counters, she was utterly confused.

"Alex Davis.." Wednesday repeated to herself as she searched her mind for any remembrance of the name but nothing came to mind, "How old are you, currently?"

"I'm seventeen?" Alex said as she looked out the kitchen window over to the Addams' manor, eyeing it for a moment. "Huh, someone painted the witch's nest. Looks newer than before.."

"I was only gone for a couple of hours." She added as she continued to look at the manor. Wednesday's eyes darted across the girl's body and clothing, taking in every detail. She couldn't recall a time when she had seen someone around here wearing anything like this, let alone someone her age. It was outdated and began to confirm her thoughts.

"A couple of hours. How much time do you usually take on your walks?"

"I don't. I had an argument with my parents and ran out from the back gate and into the woods. Just to cool off for a couple of hours..and now I come back and everything is...gone, replaced.." Alex muttered her eyes darting down at the sink, trying to wrap her head around everything.

"Everything has been replaced?" The Addam's girl repeated as her mind began racing with potential answers for the situation: time travel, magic, a dream. It all sounded unreal but she knew that one thing was for sure, Alex was being genuine.

"This is my house, but everything is just...replaced." Walking back over to the living room once again, reaching down to grab the photo frame on the coffee table. The photo consisted of an old couple, The Walter's, but she hadn't recognized them.

"You're certain you don't know them...? You sure you didn't just run into a different house?" Wednesday asked, her voice still monotone now with a more serious tone to her voice. 

"This is my house!" Alex said now more urgently as she shook her head, her hands now balling up into fists at her sides. 

She quickly began walking upstairs, walking down the hallway, and opening every door. She opened the door that once led to her little sister's room, which was once painted with pink walls, now has grey walls and is an empty guest room. Shaking her head, she angrily walked over to her parent's room, opening the door and only finding, once again, differently painted walls, and now the bedroom belonged to the old couple she saw in the picture downstairs. 

She shook her head again, walking further down the hall to the restroom and slamming the door open. It was also differently painted and looked as if it was an entirely different bathroom. She walked backward, her back hitting the hallway wall as her head began spinning. Her family was no longer there. 

Her mind raced with all kinds of thoughts: Where did they go? Did they leave her behind? Were her parents so upset with her and the argument that they left without saying a word? If so, then why is everything so different all of a sudden? How did these people buy her home and quickly renovate it?

┗━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━┛

[the-desolated-quill]

Okay. So here’s the problem I have with Aquaman And The Lost Kingdom.

It’s not a bad movie as such. It has its moments. There are things to like. The problem is that it pales in comparison to the first film. I LOVED Aquaman. I loved it way more than I thought I would. It was a well written, visually stunning fantasy epic. It was also a complete story with a beginning, middle and end. Which leaves us with a big problem with the sequel. Because the ending of the first film is so definitive, there isn’t actually anywhere for the second film to go. I mean they try. We see Black Manta continue with his quest for revenge, and we see Arthur try to reconnect with his half-brother Orm in the hopes of redeeming him, but it all feels kind of superfluous. Everything The Lost Kingdom does, the first film had already done and done better.

It also doesn’t help that this film came out at a time when Warner Bros was busy trying to suffocate the DC Universe with a pillow. Plus the extensive reshoots in order to erase Amber Heard from existence because Hollywood has the backbone of a chocolate eclair. And on top of that, the script’s environmental messaging is both clumsy and painfully on the nose. The villain, a dollar store Sauron, was imprisoned in Antarctica and now global warming is thawing him out. And the film ends with Arthur addressing the United Nations, lecturing humanity to look after the planet, which is not only a complete ripoff of the ending of Black Panther, minus the emotional payoff of a well executed character arc, it’s also unintentionally hilarious because Jason Momoa is doing his speech in his day-glow orange Aquaman suit. I’m sorry, but there’s a reason why Chadwick Boseman didn’t have his Black Panther suit on during his big speech, and that’s because it would be impossible to take him seriously if he was trying to tug at the heartstrings and promote international and intercultural unity while dressed in a giant cat costume. 🤣

And THEN there’s the racial allegory.

When the first film came out, I remember there was minor controversy because people were hoping DC would cast Polynesian actors as the Atlanteans. Instead they were all white, which was a shame… until you watched the film and you realised that all the human characters were played by people of colour, and you listened to the derogatory way Atlanteans talked about humans in the film, and you realise that, holy shit, this was deliberate. Atlantis is a metaphor for white supremacy. They view humans as ignorant, destructive, primitive, and savage. They even refer to Arthur as a mongrel at one point. I love this idea because I think it’s a clever way of tying Aquaman into the original myth of Atlantis, which people tend to forget was itself an anti-colonialist allegory. The Atlanteans conquered the world, enslaving other nations, and because of their hubris and greed, they fell out of favour with the gods, and so Atlantis sank into the sea without a trace. So using DC’s Atlantis as a metaphor for white supremacy is actually thematically appropriate and adds another layer to the film.

Unfortunately the racial allegory becomes very problematic in the second film.

Like the first film, the Atlanteans (with the exception of Arthur) are portrayed by white people and the humans by people of colour, presumably in order to keep continuity with the first film. The problem is that the context of this film is very different. Think about it. What happens? Black Manta, a black man, wants revenge against Aquaman. Humans, played by people of colour, have caused global warming, melting Antarctica, and now Black Manta wants to speed the process up to resurrect dollar store Sauron in order to gain the power to destroy Atlantis, where the white people live. He fails, and the white Atlanteans decide to reveal themselves in order to share their superior wisdom, knowledge and technology with the natives in order to save the world.

Yikes. BIG yikes. 😰

The racial allegory is a double edged sword that cuts both ways. What was used as a way to examine and condemn white supremacy in the first film is now inadvertently reinforcing colonialist narratives and stereotypes in the second. In fairness, I don’t think this was intentional on the part of the filmmakers, but it’s still a MASSIVE oversight, and I’m amazed nobody picked up on it during production. To say it’s dodgy would be an understatement.

So yeah. Aquaman And The Lost Kingdom. Not a fan. 🤷🏻‍♂️😕

[a-student-out-of-time]

As there's a week to go until DRDT starts again, I just wanted to know - has anyone at all made a rebuttal against your switch theory that doesn't have a lot of holes in? I know people disagree with your theory, but I think I'm yet to see a an actual rebuttal that counteracts your points with a different explanation. (say, the hair length on the body during investigation)

//I've received some rebuttals over this past year and a half, but none are very good.

//Most have been based around the timing of the murder or how J could get away from Arturo to do all this. Some are based on misunderstandings about Rose and her memory, which shows they haven't studied this as deeply as I have.

//Others have taken to insulting the whole idea, insulting me as a person by insisting I'm just a "bad fanfic writer," or pulling quotes from the creators out of context and deciding it means I'm wrong. Bad argument tactics all around.

//Yet not a single person has actually addressed my other points, including:

Veronika asking about Teruko's apparent prosopagnosia, and more importantly, why it's been brought up now. We've established she only recognizes different eye color, hair color and clothes to differentiate people.

The wigs in the Dress-Up Room, which look a lot like Arei's and J's hair, being out of sight right just before and after the body discovery.

How Rose is the only one to not see the body and how that changes the dynamics from the first murder.

Some of J's weird behavior and dialogue after the body discovery, being a lot more vindictive, colorfully descriptive and yet still embarrassed about her name reveal days later. And again, why was that such a big deal if J hasn't really been a major character in the latter half of this chapter?

The inexplicable silent appearance of Arei in that one scene in the diner before Teruko dipped.

The rule that the person who was "most mastermind-y" in causing a death is the Blackened, not simply the person who dealt the fatal blow. That means we can't simply decide whoever did the killing is the one.

What was Teruko reminiscing about when she heard Arei crying after her massive breakdown, considering we just saw was a black screen with her dialogue?

Why did Charles bring up Childhood Amnesia?

MonoTV is a robot operating on basic programming, not a puppet like Monokuma. He has no knowledge of who the Mastermind even is.

//If you wanna see my complete thoughts or just refresh your memories on my theory, here's the doc where I discussed everything that came to mind. Again, I don't expect to be right, but there's so much I want to see addressed about this chapter and these were just my best guesses.

[5-7-9]

Did you ever find out who first wrote Joker as gay?

i have no idea why Neal Adams in 1973 thinks Joker was homosexual at all. I’m skimming through golden age and silver age and i don’t think there was anything to indicate Joker was originally queercoded. So he’s the first officially and subtextually.

I’ve read enough long Joker queercoded meta essays claiming Joker was always queer, but I’ve seen it for myself and I don’t agree. He’s at best started during the bronze age, but never the golden ages or silver ages. This is disappointing that a glaring assumption gets made before doing research hmmmmmm.

In fact, i haven’t even seen proof that a purple/lavender 💟 coloured outfit is evidence of queercoding? It’s been said before but most of the rouges had worn green and purple before (lex luthor and penguin and catwoman). I’ve talked about this before regarding Batman being more blue than black and his magenta robe, that printing ink is stupid to expense on so they’d probably use whatever they had? Then Joker’s ruby lipstick 💋💄 as queercoding, umh, has anyone SEEN a clown? 🤡 Red lips has always been a clown aesthetic too! These are really unfair to call queercoded when we already have the context that explains why it would seem that way.

If anything, all I think happened is that Neal Adams thought it fitting? Just by association or whatever, I don’t believe it was homophobic but Joker is a villain at the end of the day so there’s a representation argument... I think adaptations are fine though, it fit Joker’s characterization and barely changed him. (Unlike Frank Miller but that’s another topic).

Or he had a behind the scenes chat with Jerry Robinson (i doubt it tho, not because they wouldn’t interact, but because i’m not sure what you could say is queercoded about a wacky themed villain. You can say that about them all but I haven’t seen many people genuinely argue with sufficient evidence from comic book history that supports the theory that all of the rouges are literally queercoded).

So yeah, nothing wrong with Joker not being queercoded for the first half of his existence. Other people confused me tho, kinda misleading.

[luigisblueoveralls]

Carina

Luigi x GN! Reader

Requested by @andy-squirrel-and-friends

I know I already used a similar picture on one of my other works, shush I'm running out of pictures to use. Someone send me some plzz

Summary: Luigi has been down in the dumps lately and you find the perfect way to cheer him up.

Notes: Carina means cute, in a feminine context, in Italian, and I figured that would be perfect for this scenario. I also changed it a little of what you asked on accident and didn't realize it until I got really deep into writing it so I hope that's okay I apologize! No warnings for this one! Hope you enjoy it!

(H/L)=Hair Length

(H/C)=Hair Color

💚

The front door softly opened and then shut, indicating that your significant other was home from work.

"Hey Lui! How was today?" You called from the laundry room.

"Meh." Luigi mumbled as he walked upstairs to y'alls room.

You sighed to yourself hearing that. This was the third day in a row that Luigi was bummed out. You weren't sure why he was being this way, and when you ask what's wrong, he just says: "Don't worry about me. I'm alright." But you knew that was a damn lie. Normally, Luigi was excited and energetic and happy, but lately, he has been dull, monotone, and even depressed. You weren't sure why he was acting like this, but you were going to get to the bottom of this.

You quickly finished the laundry that you were doing and headed upstairs to the bedroom where Luigi was at.

"Hey." You announce as you knocked on the door, "Can I come in?"

It was silent for a few seconds.

"Sure."

You opened the door and walked into the bedroom to find Luigi top less in his boxers, looking for some lounge clothes to wear. You gazed at him. Luigi was so handsome to you that you loved gazing at him with whatever chance you got. Whether it be while he was cooking in the kitchen, asleep with drool coming out of his mouth, or during intimate times, you loved to gaze at him.

"What are you looking at?" Luigi asks you.

"Nothing, pretty boy." You joked, which made him do a half smile.

"What's been on your mind, Lui? Talk to me." You plead as you approached him.

Luigi shook his head at you.

"It's nothing. I promise, love." He reassures you.

You still weren't buying it.

"Lui, what is it?" You ask again.

Luigi leans in and kisses your temple.

"I promise I am okay. I'm just tired, is all." Luigi strokes your (H/L) (H/C), making you smile.

"I know, but I worry about you." You said, leaning onto Luigi's shoulder.

"You have nothing to worry about." Luigi reassures you, wrapping his arm around you.

You nod in response, but you still couldn't help but worry for Luigi. You needed a way to figure out how to lighten his mood, and you had an idea of how to do that.

~

"We have three available for adoption. It just depends on which one suits your need the best." The shelter worker lady informed you.

You gazed through the three glass shelters the cats were in. One cat was white, one was black, and then there was an orange tabby cat with white stripes all over his body with green eyes. Your eyes met with the orange cats. The orange cat stared right back into your eyes, and you couldn't help but feel drawn to the cat.

"Do you think you could tell me more about this orange one?" You ask the worker.

"Ah yes, she just arrived today, so we don't have a name for her yet, but she loves loves cuddles and to be loved on. She loves food and loves to play with her ball of yarn and gets attached to her person." The worker informed you.

This cat was a perfect match for Luigi. You just knew it. You had a gut feeling you were correct.

"I'll take her. She is perfect." You told the worker.

"Awesome. I'll fetch her crate for ya." The worker said as she walked off.

You pressed your hand up against the glass, and the cat pressed her paw against the glass where your hand was at. You giggled in an excited way. It was as if the cat knew she was gonna go to the perfect home.

~

It was a waiting game at this point. You had the cat in your lap with a little green bow tie on it, both of you waiting for Luigi to get home.

"He is going to love you." You spoke to the cat.

The cat rubbed her chin up against yours, and you chuckled in response. You still didn't really have a name for her, but you wanted Luigi to make that choice. It was his cat, after all. Suddenly, you heard the sound of his car engine pull up and park in front of the house. Your heart started racing rapidly. You couldn't wait till your wonderful significant other walked through the door and see your surprise you had for him.

"Relax (Y/N)." You told yourself.

You felt as if your heart was gonna burst out of your chest. You couldn't wait. You almost told Luigi the surprise as soon as you got the cat, but you figured it was best to wait till he got home. Luigi walked up to the front door, turned the door knob and opened the front door.

"Hey, Lui." You greet him with excitement.

You could tell by his gaze that he was tired. Extremely. He was so tired that all he noticed was you.

"Hey, (Y/N)." Luigi greets you as he tiredly walked to the couch.

"Are you okay?" You ask as you sat next to him, with the cat in your lap still.

"Y-Yeah, just-" Luigi was interrupted by the cat rubbing on him and crawling into his lap.

"Um..whose cat is this?" Luigi asks.

You leaned in close to him, placing a peck on his cheek.

"She's yours, Lui."

Luigi's eyes went wide in shock as he gazed at the orange tabby cat.

"R-Really?" Luigi asks in suprisement.

"Surprise!!" You exclaimed as you hugged the side of him.

Luigi chuckled as he started petting his cat. The cat would rub against his hand motions and even rub her up against his chin, as if she had already claimed Luigi as her owner.

"I just noticed you've been down lately and figured maybe having an animal companion might help." You inform him.

Luigi looked at you, his deep blue eyes staring into your (E/C) eyes. He felt so lucky to have you. You cared for him so much and wanted the best for him.

"Thank you." Luigi says as he kisses you.

You kissed back until he pulled away and turned his attention back to his cat.

"Carina. I think that's a perfect name for this one." Luigi comments.

"Yes. I agree." You agreed as you lean in close to Luigi, leaning your head onto his shoulder.

You had a feeling that living your life with Luigi and now Carina was gonna be the best years of your life. You just knew it.

💚

I hope you enjoy it!! Again I'm sorry for accidently changing what you wanted I didn't realize it until I was almost done with it but I hope you enjoy it!!

[queenofhearts-444]

Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov

"Lolita, light of my life, fire in my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta."

For starters... I started this book on Valentine's Day. *Ironic, right?*

ONE: Do I think this book is a love story? In the rawest and ugliest sense, yes, I do.

TWO: The entire idea is absolutely genius, whether people can admit that or not, it's the truth. I was enthralled from the first page. I have a special love for classic's to begin with, so this book will never get a negative opinion from me.

THREE: Something I'd like to note, is I understand how this has been and will be romantizised in the future. I have an excerpt for an example.

"My inncocent little visitor slowly sank to a half-sitting position upon my knee. Her adorable profile, parted lips, warm hair were three inches from my bared eyetooth; and I felt the heat of her limbs through her rough tomboy clothes. All at once I knew I could kiss her throat or the wick of her mouth with perfect impunity. I knew she would let me do so, and even close her eyes as Hollywood teaches. A double vanilla with hot fudge---hardly more unusal than that." Lolita By Vladimir Nabokov. Page 48, chapter 11.

That perfectly explains how he views her, and how it's told from his perspective leaves room for people to romanticize it all.

FOUR: You don't really see the odd obsession he has with young girls, or Nymphets as he calls them, until in chapter 13 with the following paragraph. *Context, he and Lolita are sitting on the couch together and she crawls over into his lap*

"I entered a plane of being where nothing mattered, save the infusion of joy brewed within my body. What had begun as a delicious distension of my innermost roots became a glowing tingle which now had reached that state of absolute security, confidence and reliance not found elsewhere in conscious life." EXCUSE ME? OVER A LITTLE GIRL SITTING IN YOUR LAP?!

You can say this is euphoria he is experiencing, which changes nothing. I would also like to say, that people have very clearly done the work to try to understand WHY Humbert is the way he is. My research shows it's a result of his lack of parenthood during his childhood and the loss he experianced as a kid *Staying vague for spoilers*

Connection to that, in Nightfall By Penelope Douglas, the main character is reading Lolita for english class where the teacher says,

"We've all talked about Humbert being an enreliable narrator in the book. How we are all the righteuos heros of our own story if we're the ones telling it."

As well as,

"And how often a matter of right or wrong is just a matter of perspective. To a fox, the hound is the villain. To a hound, the wolf. The wolf, a human and so on." *Page 26-27*

So let's tie that in. When reading Lolita, the attraction Humbert has to Lolita might seem romantic, if not justifiable, but it is only a matter of perspective. *The main character in Nightfall even thinks, in response,

"Oh, please. Humbert Humbert was derailed. And a criminal. Fox, hound, wolf, whatever."

So we see her perspective, which is fair and true. Not everything is as black and white as it seems though, which she learns later.*

FIVE: Part of me thinks this book effected me mentally, on more levels than it's natural disturbing nature. I started to feel like I was running out of time, or like I'm in my 'prime' *Age not disclosed* I was absolutely on the verge of writing my will.

SIX: SPOILERS! SKIP. LO'S MOM?!?! Ugh. I also have to add that her dying was WILD. And so up to chance. I'm sure after Humbert stopped crying and drinking, he was very thankful she was out of the way.

SEVEN: As I read this, I rooted for Humbert, for storyline alone. I was playing along which made it much more enjoyable. At the end of the day, H.H. was a pedophile, and poor Dolores was the subject of it. Does that mean I enjoyed the novel any less? No! I loved it. I loved the idea, the writing, and the whole story. It was told so well and Nabokov did such a good job. Thanks for reading my book review/rant. I would love to add my thoughts for the movie but I want to get this review out! I appreciate all of you who read these and I hope to make more soon, I'm currently in a reading slump.

Tootles

[cocogrrrl]

rendezvous

a detective!kyle x gang leader!female!reader series

detective kyle broflovski is possibly the most determined member of the south park police force has ever seen. currently, he is tasked to solve a recent string of murders appearing all over south park. he believes the culprit is yn, leader of the black stones, so he goes undercover to collect more evidence.

you, however, already know what he's here for, and you want to see how far he's willing to go to get something, anything, out of you.

cws: crime, assault and violence, drinking + substance abuse, mental health, abusive parents, stalking, animal violence (tws will be updated as story goes on)

things to note!

the story isn't really in line with the actual ongoing story in south park. some characters have never dated each other (like red and kevin) or didn't grow up in south park at all (like kevin and red again 😭).

context about the lives of the characters growing up will be provided, but basically kyle grew up in south park with the same group of friends in the show, and other characters who did not grow up in south park in the story reside in the city now. (just to clear up any confusion, haha)

for reference, the characters are in their mid-to-late twenties when the story takes place!

the povs will be a lot more focused on kyle since the murder is definitely integral to the story.

while i did do some research, i still barely have any idea how police and gang systems work and all that jazz :'] so please forgive me if i get anything inaccurate or make some complete bullshit up LMAOO

any more questions? feel free to let me know in my asks :D

logbook (7)

Day 1

Tale of Two—The Black Stones : an introduction to one of our two leads, yn. (wc: 716)

Tale of Two—Detective Broflovski : a look into our other lead, kyle, and his motives. (wc: 773)

Rough Starts : the story kicks off as kyle and yn get a drink while the black stones also brews a fun idea in the process (wc: 2195)

May Lead to Rougher Journeys : brad and the black stones meet up with a borrower. (wc: 1479)

After Hours / I Think We Have the Guy : during the few hours after the meetup, kyle gets a troubled tip from a mysterious text and yn gets a name. (wc: 1739)

Day 4

Poorly Disguised Exposition : captain yates and kyle share a conversation. (wc: 1050)

Half-Doomed, Semi-Sweet : brad finds that a night in the club with ed (kevin) and the girls churns out a few interesting details. later, brad and yn are alone. (wc: 3162)

[skaruresonic]

On the topic of remakes, and as someone who's a fan of a series that has had at least two of them in the past and has already tackled one of them during my retrospective, what do you think constitutes a good remake? Can there be occasions where a remake is unfaithful to the original yet still good on its own merits?

I'm torn on this.

On the one hand, if games weren't treated as expendable pieces of media with an expiration date instead of pieces of art worth studying in their own right, maybe I wouldn't take as much issue with remake culture as I do.

For whatever reason, fandoms, generally speaking, are near-pathologically incapable of appreciating remakes without making up reasons to denigrate the original. Problems that weren't problems before suddenly become problems because now we have to reconcile some cognitive dissonance between "we have the original at home" and "new = better." I'd almost say it's sunk-cost fallacy: folks' way of trying to justify the cost of remakes to themselves. We wouldn't have a remake if the original didn't exist to be improved upon, after all.

People pretend the originals are obsolete when really, they're just basing their appreciation of the remake on an ad-hoc basis. This thing I like is being updated, therefore I must find reasons to like The New Version, therefore I must find fault with the original (so as to appear balanced and open-minded, not a "toxic fan" who's stuck in the past - that's the other half of the shit sausage). And if no fault can be found, I will invent some.

The way things are now, remake culture diminishes games as an art form. Nobody would call Citizen Kane a bad film for being shot in black-and-white, yet somehow we're expected to believe tank controls diminish Silent Hill 2's quality as a video game.

This mindset is exactly what leads to old games becoming abandonware. Companies have no reason or financial incentive to preserve old games for posterity. If even pioneers of genre like Silent Hill 2 are not exempt from corporate greed, I don't see how other games will fare much better.

On the other hand, I do think remakes can be done well if approached in good faith and intrude as little as possible on the core experience. A remake should enhance, not reinterpret. Heck, that's why the fan updated version of SH2 is called the "Enhanced" edition. They didn't toss the entire combat system out the window; they wanted to preserve the game as-is for future generations because Konami sure as hell aren't interested in doing that.

The most recent example of a remake done right that I can think of is the Paper Mario TTYD remake. Although there are flaws in the remake, such as the lower framerate and less vibrant visuals, by and large it preserves the core experience, and even adds extra features in ways that gel well with the main game.

The inclusion of a warp pipe room, for instance, as well as optional bosses that people wanted, were particularly good choices. They respected the fact that fans had certain expectations of "if it ain't broke, don't fix it." They didn't pull the games' guts out to do their own thing. They didn't go "TTYD is outdated" and turn it into an MMO instead. Yet the latter is more often than not the design mindset feeding into remakes; we must constantly "update" our sensibilities lest the game be considered old, and therefore worthless.

---

Can there be occasions where a remake is unfaithful to the original yet still good on its own merits?

I personally don't think so. In my mind, the two ideas are incompatible. And that's because a remake inherently requires familiarity with the source material in order to be comprehensible; it needs the player to understand context that it cannot provide on its own, so it can't exactly be taken as a standalone experience.

We're kind of straying into ship of Theseus territory here, but I do think there is a point where a remake's lack of faithfulness places it in this weird in-between where it cannot be considered a good game in terms of adaptation, but also lacks the groundwork necessary to be considered a good game on its own merits.

History has proven time and time again that adaptations that seek to do their own thing often wind up failing to be meritorious pieces of art even when taken on their own terms. There are a myriad of reasons for this, but most of them seem to boil down to fauxteurs thinking they can reinvent the wheel when they don't even understand the basics of art or storytelling.

People will disagree on what makes an unfaithful remake. The folks who played the SH2 remake's preview certainly believe it faithful to the spirit of the original game, although most of their praise is predicated on a misunderstanding of the quirks of the original.

I don't think it's faithful, based on what I've seen. The art direction is off. The character designs are off. The combat is off. Bloober disparaged the other three original Team Silent-directed games in order to single out 2 as the series' golden child, saying 2 has a personal bent that the others don't, which tells me they don't understand that all four games explore psychological themes. They fundamentally misunderstand Silent Hill. I don't think I should be lumped in with the anti-woke dudebros screaming about how Angela's design counts as "DEI" over this.

It all lacks that distinctly Silent Hill quality. I know that sounds pretentious, but you'd know Silent Hill if you saw it. It's just that we've gone for so many years enduring diluted knockoffs that even cloudy water must seem like a godsend in a desert.

The puzzles aren't supposed to be comprehensible. You're not meant to fight every enemy you see, and the "clunky" combat served to reinforce this. Pyramid Head is not meant to swing his sword with ease because the Great Knife represents the burden of desire for punishment. Having him chase James reverses the locus of control of the first boss encounter. Nixing fixed camera angles reduces the tension and forces Bloober to signpost their scares more blatantly, sacrificing the original's subtlety in the process. All of these elements add up to a dissonant experience that rings false to someone who's played the original.

[yridenergyridenergy]

Sukekiyo live report [2023/02/16]

Five years to the day since I last saw sukekiyo! 20+ hours on planes and back to Canada tomorrow, just to attend this special show; I just had to!

It is extremely difficult for me to remember what moment goes with what song. Had I attended more sukekiyo concerts more regularly, there might be more stuff that would have stuck out as being associated to a song, but it's only sparse details. All I remember in general is Kyo dancing in so many various ways, caressing his face, messing up his hair, etc.

Overall, it was literally a blast pop party, exactly like I wanted it! Epic from beginning to… almost the end, as the official setlist closed with 'aftermath', which I find boring to begin with but it really dampened the mood. The only thing I can say about 'aftermath' is propos to Kyo for the high chorus, but it also looks weird when you don't sing like the studio version and that the screen displays your younger self in the PV mouthing stuff differently.

Anyway! 'aftermath' aside, holy hell! For five years I have been simply blasting sukekiyo's songs in my car every other weekend, the hype building for each song as I sang along with them. So hearing those beloved melodies pouring from the stage was epic! I was super into each beat from the start, while the crowd stayed immobile for the first half. But I had checked the website and no rules were listed other than concerning the virus.

Everybody walked on stage and the crowd was dead silent. What also made it really awkward was that there seemed to be quite a long delay between each song of the set, and that was done in complete silence, no clapping even.

I was on the right side so I couldn't tell you much about Mika or UtA, but Yuchi was wearing a pullover (orange?) and he had very dark and thick lipstick. Takumi's braids were light coloured, so all the stage colours were reflected on his head. As for Kyo, he wore a long black dress with puffy long sleeves. He had a black collar/choker on top of that, unless the separated line was connected to the dress in the back. He had no tights underneath, as we could notice when he crouched with a leg spread in front of him during one of the songs, lingering there for a few seconds. Otherwise, what kind of struck me was that he had a black lacey glove on his left hand, whereas he tends to wear a glove on his right one with Dir en grey, because that's always where he holds the mic. It was kind of odd in that context to see Kyo's tattoos on his right hand, especially as it somewhat contrasts with the feminine outfit. Always wondering to what extent that was intended. And Kyo's haircut was similar to the one he had in Liquefacio, which I loooved!

Before the concert started, the background music was actually audio excerpts from some Japanese drama shows. Not sure if anime or live. It seemed like they were old, from the previous century, so I don't think that many in sukekiyo's fanbase knew what it was. One of the female characters sounded super distressed at some point, like she was getting violently victimized. Not that later segment, but the overall idea of the drama shows featuring mainly female characters is important for something later in the show.

Onto the detailed stuff!

The show started with Scarlet, but actually there was an instrumental prelude to it with a similar melody, just no drums I think. Because as you know, studio Scarlet starts with a BANG. In fact, quite a few songs had preludes to them, and in some cases the sounds were different enough that I wasn't sure what song would be coming up, or if it was a "session" even. But all in all, those new extended intros were always sweet and appreciated! Maybe it made up for how there was no smooth transition from one song to the next.

Kyo sang Scarlet with such passion. I remember him sensually sliding a finger from top to bottom along the rose lights on his mic stand, around the beginning of the concert as well as in a second song.

Then it was En, which was of course epic! Kyo struggled with some of the choruses sang in high notes though, but that seemed to improve in the second half of the show.

I can't remember much from 'kisses' other than having the certainty that Kyo danced a lot, most likely one of the sensual times. Oh, actually, I had made a mental note that for a song called 'kisses', Kyo did some huge hip sway twice amd that was the focus instead.

Kisses ended and Kyo said: "Ai de gomen nasai", or at least it sounded like thar but the "gomen nasai" was kind of jumbled up into two syllables only, somehow. And then began Hakudaku. At this point in the show, people were still really immobile and quiet, so it was the whole band being passionate, especially Kyo, and me vigorously nodding my head to the beat.

Oh, and then my neck got no rest at all because beauty Mozaic Shoujo's notes began playing, but I think this was one of the songs where the introduction left you wondering if your favourite song (one of them anyway) was really going to be the one played next. The PV was projected in the background during it. During the chorus (Ano hito janakyaya, ato dore kurai), Kyo started vigorously pointing right, centre then left (from his perspective), bending his arm and extending it toward us with each word, not just to act the lyrics of "not the right person", but it seemed like a real wakeup call for the crowd. Like SLAP, Kyo wants you to gesture with him! Look alive! He was so into it.

After that, aoguroi hysteria came and for some reason, despite it not being a pop song, out of nowhere some fans raised their hand during the chorus. I can't remember them doing so in 2017 and 2018 when I last saw it performed.

Furesaseru, honestly I don't have any vivid memories from that song. The chorus is intense as it sounds, but other than the lyrics being projected, that's it. Maybe it was during this song that Kyo faked puffing a cigarette, gesturing and exhaling, while the screen showed slivers that could kind of be interpreted as smoke.

Oh but then, Aishita Shinzou! I think it was at the beginning of that song that Kyo was sighing sadly in the mic before the first notes were played. He (or the character he was acting) gave off this very "clingy" personality, due to the way he sang some of the lines. It sounded lyrical, romantically needy, and he went left and right on stage for both instances. To conclude the song, Kyo's last couple of syllables were uttered as a cry or a long, loud exasperation, bending backward as he did so. Then, it looked like he continued the motion of lowering his mic even though his body wouldn't bend any further backward, so from where I stood, it was like he shoved the mic in his mouth in disgust and finality. I wish I knew the lyrics, but they must have been relevant.

I don't recall for which songs specifically, but today's concert undid sukekiyo's reputation for impeccable music. I had known the band's musicians to sound just like the studio recording on stage, which made me really admire their professionalism and expertise. But tonight, it was definitely not just Kyo improvising, and sometimes that made the instrumentalization sound honestly off track.

Oooooh my beloved Valentina was next! I had never seen it live, even though it has existed for quite a while. Upon the first notes, those of us with the penlights pulled out our Valentina stick (although a couple fans took out the Candis one, which had been explicitly prohibited as they are different tints of pink too). I am so glad I bought them on the resale market, I would have felt so left out. It wasn't clear at first, as fans seemed shy and kept the pen light low until the chorus, but it seemed obvious after the first chorus that it could be left up the whole time! It's crazy how Kyo builds a connection with the crowd during this song. Is it just the pop-style gesture? He seemed to stare at us with wider eyes full of expectation, like he was concentrated only on this connection.

Dorothy was a cool pop song to prolong the mood. I was really into it, but I think most fans' arms were weak at this point. Was it in this song that Kyo was dancing left and right? There was also one song in which he did the Sustain the Untruth dance, but before he did that, he turned toward the left side of the stage and did kind of a Russian (?) dance, like crouching a bit and extending one leg, getting up and then alternating with the other leg? It looked a bit funny but Kyo was just doing whatever he wished.

Candis came, I think again with an extra intro, but we pulled out our Candis penlights (again, a couple of fans pulled out the wrong one, probably the same who had confused Valentina earlier). I guess there was a lot of dancing from Kyo, as the song demands!

Shiryou no ariana, I think there was a "session" at some point before, or after? In that improvisation, the band was playing music but Kyo faced the back of the stage and he said stuff as if he was answering someone on the phone. In my opinion, it sounded like the clingy girlfriend, as he was saying "hayakuuu" a few times near the end. I have a complete blank right now about the rest of the one-sided conversation, other than "Sou desu". Anyway, for Shiryou no ariana, the feed from the camera of the back platform was projected on the screen veil, but at first Kyo used his right-side mic so he was shown only on a third of the screen to people who were on the left. But he changed to the central one soon. It's always interesting to hear how Kyo screeches or sings the line that he then distorts and repeats for the rest of the song. From what the camera was showing, he was really focused.

Next was Sesshoku, and there were two special aspects about this song other than its traditional robot moves: Kyo sang the DOPE parts way not with a low pitch of voice, but mostly high-pitched at first, and I think he was shouting it in the second segment. And when Sesshoku ended, the projection displays rectangles like a piano's notes falling continuously while there were sounds like a horse's footsteps or something like that playing. And if I'm not confusing with a different song, it was then that Kyo pointed to lights in the projected video, which transformed into butterflies. And somehow, he knew when some butterflies would be animated to kind of break off or have a wing torn apart, as he seemed like he was pinching those rather than pointing. This went on for a while.

Honnou okotowari, it was less sensual than it had sounded to me, but judging by how I remember a lot of hands being up during this song, I guess it was then that Kyo started doing quite a lot of callouts for the remainder of the show. The traditional request to break our necks, the "Can you hear me?", etc. Oh, the calls for "Tobeee!" (jump) were very rocker. The "Cease to speak" and "shut down" were especially intense as well, with Yuchi's backup vocals. I have a vague recollection of Kyo pointing to us during those lines, maybe in reference to how we couldn't speak in the venue?

'Creeper' was full of fist pumping too! At this point, I'm not sure what song it was, but Sesshoku was over and yet Kyo danced into somewhat of a violinist position and he started swinging his left arm across his right to the notes of a certain string instrument, really mechanically and staring absent-mindedly somewhere in front of him on the ground.

Waizatsu then came on after a short break and by now, everybody knows how Kyo expects us to act during this song! It's been obvious since 2017 and at least the crowd responded accordingly. I don't know why, but the last Creepshow part was so intense. During the line about barfing, Kyo literally made a sound as though he expelled something from his mouth. He sang everything but the choruses way freeform, walking to each side of the stage with a crazy expression. It seemed so odd to see him super stoic behind the veil that showed the PV's shot of "Best of all time" or something similar with fireworks. Like dude, especially on your birthday, I want you to know that you deserve any award possible!

Next, Sharara! I think Kyo was more and more demanding by this point. It sounded like one of the high-pitched moments in the song was really a "sharara" rather than the increasing long note that it sounds like on the studio recording, just before the heavy part at the end. As far as I remember, Kyo was intensely headbanging around this song.

And then… Yeah, 'aftermath'. That whole atmosphere we had built, painstakingly in the case of Kyo re: fans not moving, came to a screeching halt real quick.

Kyo left while the song was not really finished, without saying his usual "Oyasumi", so we expected that it wasn't the real end. The other members finished 'aftermath', then Yuchi left and he was halfway out of the stage when finally we started clapping. On his way out, Takumi made exaggerated moves at the spot where Kyo stood, almost as if to mime that there was something/someone missing or that the spot was ready.

We clapped a lot, even though at first the announcer told us that it was over. But the guy with the big no-camera no-phone no-mic/recording sign wavef it in front of us again, so we kind of knew to stay, if there was still something not to record.

(I don't know when else to mention this, but I saw that UtA pointed at his part of the crowd a few times, as though to say that a person got it.)

Not too long after, the four musicians came back and we clapped even louder/more people joined in when Kyo walked back. He did a little MC at first, as though he wasn't sure what to do, but he thanked us, to which we responded by clapping even more vigorously. They played Kō mo Chigau Mono Nano ka, Yōsuru ni, and considering that I don't like the album remix, it honestly sounded more like the cleaner version of the demo? It was intense and everyone was into it, but as it finished, Kyo started saying something like something went wrong, that he hadn't done something, while passing a hand through his hair to mess it up more. So the band redid the last segment of the song, with Kyo screaming more intensely and moving more too. But once again the part ended and it was like he wasn't satisfied but played dumb wondering what was missing. Then the crowd actually broke the rule and people cheered, with one guy especially cheering on something Kyo said that made him reply teasingly (with fake offense/frown) that the guy was dumb, to which everyone laughed. And the last part of the song was played once more, Kyo being one notch more intense even, headbanging deeply. Before the last notes were played, he quickly turned, said "Bye bye" and dropped his mic on his way out of the stage unceremoniously. The other members finished with improvised rock to end the set with a bang. As Takumi later exited, he once again made wild movements at the spot where Kyo left his mic, as though offended for the poor little thing. All of them made gestures to their heart in appreciation for our energy tonight.

And with that, we were promptly kicked out of the venue by two staff members. That was truly it.

(And thank goodness there are larger parts at the tip of the penlights, because if I hadn't been gripping them hard, my intense swinging would have thrown them right at someone's head or even into the veil in front of the stage!)

[tobiasdrake]

Chapter Vivia! I half expect him to spend the entire chapter lounging in the fireplace, and the whole thing is just one long Spectral Projection sequence.

Y'know, I didn't anticipate that Vivia would start us out with a dissertation on his life philosophy, but I probably should have. That's on me.

Vivia is a man with one foot in the grave. He's spiritually sensitive and his Forte is astral projection, during which he may encounter the souls of the departed. He has a different relationship with mortality than the rest of us do.

This place looks fucking haunted. Are we in Silent Hill right now?

I've said it before, but Vivia would hate to be a homunculus. Never make a homunculus of this man. Why would you do that to him?

Honestly, that's on you for climbing into an elevator in what was clearly a haunted spooker building. Nobody lives here but the undea--

...

Actually, I don't know if I can make that distinction in Kanai Ward.

Nobody lives here but predatory undea--

...

Ghosts. I'm talking about ghosts. This is a ghost house.

Vivia's plan is to hang out until we die.

It feels weird to play as him because. Like. I wanna be like, "Hopefully the lady in red has a better plan" but 'better' by whose definition, exactly? If Vivia doesn't care about escaping then. I guess. We're fine, then?

I feel bad for red-coat lady already. Imagine being trapped in an elevator and your only company is saying shit like, "It's fine. Death is coming to get us. Be happy."

Who even are you, lady? How did we get here?

I love you, Viv, but this is not helpful.

You and me both, man. This is why protagonists are the characters I'm often most critical of. If you don't like the story's main character, it becomes that much harder to enjoy the rest of it.

Well, I guess we're both fucked, then. This elevator has nothing for us to read and no life for you to observe. Sorry you got stuck with the one man in Kanai Ward more haunted than the fucking homunculi.

Oh shit, you were a nurse? Are you familiar with a girl named Alessa Gillespie? No reason. Just the vibe I get.

I still have no idea why we're here, and especially no idea why she's here. What are the odds we're talking to a ghost right now?

I would say the value of a life differs depending on context, myself. But there is also a value difference, person to person.

For instance, would I support executing Yomi for his crimes? That depends on context. I think he should be removed from power but I support rehabilitative justice over punitive justice. Being made to live a civilian life, no better than anyone else, is better than killing him.

But if Halara had snapped his neck in the midst of the heated Peacekeepers vs. Nocturnal Agency battle during chapter four, would I be the slightest bit bothered? Nope. Fucker was trying to kill us. The consequence of violence are what they are. Once you start shooting, you don't get to complain if you get shot.

And if I had to choose between Kurumi's life and Yomi's, I wouldn't even hesitate. That is a piss-easy decision to make. Does that mean Kurumi's life has more value than Yomi's? I dunno. But it does certainly mean that I value it more. Value is, after all, ultimately subjective.

When you say you "look at people", are you talking about haunting? Do you haunt people and analyze their lives

Also, if you are a ghost, did you die before the Blank Week or were you eaten by homunculi? Can you give me a first-hand account of the homunculus massacre? I'd be super interested in that.

Well, whether you're a ghost or a homunculus, you are killing that red and black color scheme.

Oooo, Ryo. An etymological neighbor to Ryu or "Dragon". I like you already, Ghost Lady!

You can also put a -ko on it to make Ryuko or Ryoko, The -ko suffix is a popular add-on for girls' names. It literally means "child" but is generally used for female names, demonstrating in a literal sense the way femininity and childhood are conflated in Japanese culture.

It's kinda like how -ette is used in some Western names. Like Paulette or Claudette or Jeanette. Stick on -ette on the end of it and it's an unmistakably female name.

So Ryuko or Ryoko basically mean "Dragon Girl". I bet most people reasonably versed in anime can think of a Ryuko or a Ryoko that fits that bill.

But Ryo over here gets to be a grown-ass dragon woman. And possibly deceased. Good for her!

Flashback time. Hopefully now we'll get some context on how we got here. And hey, if we've met before, then that improves the odds of Ryo being alive!