#rather than a complete™ piece

[solidcarbon]

old stuff too. got too emotional about lotus after the end of new war

[youryurigoddess]

A. Z. Fell & Co. bookshop and its statues

To start off, you have to be warned that the former set was almost completely destroyed in the S1 bookshop fire and whatever wasn’t important enough to be salvaged before the shooting had to be replaced afterwards. Which means that a few memorable and already identified pieces aren’t there anymore, for better or worse.

This is going to be another long analysis, and certainly not a full one — I’ll describe only the big picture and the most important props. A continuation focusing on the decorations in the less prominent parts of the bookshop will follow here.

Right at the entrance we can see twin tables with the Marly Horses by Guillaume Coustou the Elder. The sculptures showing two rearing horses with their groom were originally commissioned by Louis XV of France for the entrance to château de Marly, a royal residence near Versailles.

In S2 Crowley is shown consistently using one of the horses, partially out of convenience, partially in line with a returning throughout the season dark horse theme. Ironically, the symbolic harnessing of a wild animal mirrors the supposed domestication of the demon by his angel, as seen in the transformation of the statue to the right from the entrance into an altar of his submission.

After all, there’s nothing more vulnerable to Crowley than losing the usual protection of his shades, and using a horse sculpture as a stand for his sunglasses speaks volumes about his natural aptitude towards uncertain and liminal states. He thrives in stress situations, dangles his feet while hopping onto a curb, and assumes the form of a non-Euclidean fluid when asked to sit down in a chair. Stability isn’t exactly what he’s most comfortable with. So what for Aziraphale signifies the power over his (theirs?) own domain and ultimate safe space, for Crowley means a challenge.

It makes sense that this particular spot near the exit is where the demon feels most secure in the bookshop, his favorite place in the world. That’s where he stood after crossing its threshold in 1941 too.

The statue in the middle, right on top of the central bookstand, was replaced after the S1 fire. It’s still clearly a Cupid, but in a different pose and without his weapons — instead of shooting an arrow, now he’s holding his left hand over his head, pointing up towards Heaven or God. Quite a change. This is the most similar copy made after Ernest Rancoulet. The butterfly-like wings (similar to the ones Rancoulet used in his La Nuit Tout Repose, At Night Everything Rests) on the copy in the bookshop have visible screws, so they were probably added either by the previous owner or the Good Omens art department.

What’s especially important from the analytic point of view is that similarly to S1, the Cupid in question still appears in the frame facing Crowley, but not targeting him anymore, like it used to, but rather mirroring. The most memorable example appears during the Final Fifteen™ when the demon points up with left hand to highlight his “No nightingales” line.

This one will be fun! Everyone, meet George Maxim’s bronze allegory of Music in her full glory. Angels like music in general, right? And Aziraphale is a known audiophile, which was asserted in the very first episode of the new season. But there’s another link to music in his angelic roots. A rather apocalyptic one — the Archangel Raphael is believed to blow the trumpet from a holy rock in Jerusalem to announce the Second Coming (the Day of Resurrection), and Israfil, its Islamic counterpart, Qiyamah (the Day of Judgment).

Staying in the very same context, let’s read the ballad Israfel by Edgar Allen Poe, which was obviously inspired by the titular Archangel.

Nothing on Earth lasts forever — but that’s exactly the reason why we should use it for inspiration, savor this momentary bliss, and hold it in our hearts. The ballad shares the same sentiment about all creation being temporary and only the passions of angels (i.e., Aziraphale’s and Crowley’s feelings) staying eternally unchanging as Aziraphale’s “Nothing lasts forever”. His line was intended as an affirmation of his feelings, similar to “You go too fast for me, Crowley”.

And just like the Cupid is mirroring Crowley in the “No nightingales” line, Music is targeting Aziraphale with her harp in the following frame.

On the counter there’s a smaller bronze statue, which original unfortunately remains unidentified, but I was able to track some similar designs. A woman coming back from the harvest with crops — either a representation of Autumn or the Greek goddess Demeter bringing a blessing of a plentiful harvest. In the Bible, the harvest is a metaphor for both spiritual fruitfulness and judgment. Our productivity in God’s kingdom is supposedly tied to our faith and obedience. And the most popular verses repeat an even older saying, how one reaps what they sow:

Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap. For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life. (Galatians 6:7-8)

And another angel came out of the temple, calling with a loud voice to him who sat on the cloud, “Put in your sickle, and reap, for the hour to reap has come, for the harvest of the earth is fully ripe.” (Revelation 14:15)

The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved. (Jeremiah 8:20)

If you read The summer that was never supposed to end meta, you’ll interpret the figure itself as a rather ominous sign. Now let’s add to it positioning right next to the gigantic Victorian cash register one cannot possibly overlook and the recurring theme of payment. And the fact that it conveniently disappears at some point in The Ball (S02E05) episode, never to be seen again. Is the payment reminder not needed anymore, because its day just came?

For some reason ever since S1 this one was often interpreted as a bust of Alexander the Great by the fandom. The proper name is the Head of a Victorious Athlete, also known as Benevento Head. As this suggests, the originally bronze sculpture represents a victorious athlete wearing an olive crown and was found near Benevento in Italy, in the remnants of the ancient town Herculaneum, wiped off from the face of the earth together with Pompeii in a tragic volcanic eruption (which was conveniently used later on as a more modern example of the story of Sodom and Gomorrah). It’s an obviously Roman copy of a Greek sculpture and dates back to 50 AD, less than a decade after Aziraphale and Crowley met in Rome in 41 AD— who knows, maybe they were still around at the time? This would make an interesting connection to the statue Crowley brought back to his apartment in 1941.

And no, in the HD quality and especially en face it doesn’t appear similar to Crowley. In fact, there seems to be a very good reason why most photographers choose another, more flattering angle for this particular artwork. But aesthetics aside, the white bust seems more like a mirror for Aziraphale and his self-constructed (and self-imposed) idealized image, based on a specific set of virtues. The presented athlete is victorious because he’s the epitome of the Platonic Triad of higher Forms: Truth, Beauty, and Excellence, understood in the wider context of the Greek Aretē.

To highlight this point, in S1 the head was literally used as a designated display place of the medal Aziraphale got as a commendation for his 6000 years on Earth in the 1800 cut scene. As a free agent not affiliated with Heaven in S2 he doesn’t hang it there anymore, but the medal is still in the bookshop, visible on his desk. You can see it in detail and read the description of its provenance in the last bookshop meta.

Daedalus and Icarus are a very popular motif in the history of art, but certainly not in this overtly masculine, military style. Icarus was too ambitious for his own good and ignored explicit instructions, which constitutes both the sin of pride and that of disobedience to one's parents (or one’s Creator?).

Interestingly, there’s also a version of the myth in which Icarus fashioned himself greater than Helios, the Sun himself, and the god himself punished him for it with the fall — which resonates very strongly with my vision of Crowley both in relation to his Fall and potential S3 development.

But back to Aziraphale. If the medal in question was given to him as a commendation he from the Supreme Archangel himself, it also serves as a warning for him to not get too arrogant or comfortable with his accomplishment (i.e., life on Earth) or it might lead to his fall (or, in this case, Fall).

Foreshadowing much?

[comikadraws]

Hello. I really like your analysis of the political stuff in naruto, and I just read your latest one in regard to Hashirama's odd neutrality towards 'the curse of hatred™'. But I kind of want to know now: could you say the same about Kishimoto himself? Does he agree with the 'curse' in a simular vein as H.? Or is H. a deliberately flawed character rather than something that the narrative primarily sides with? (because that's the impression I've got but it's been a while, so idk, I didn't really get the nuance of the plot in the way that you explore when I first watched it)

Authorial Intent and the Curse of Hatred

Okay, so I've got like ten other Naruto asks in my inbox but I will prioritize this one real quick because it is actually very central to a lot of my posts. I already went a little bit into this mess when I analyzed the "Curse of Hatred", but I feel like this topic deserves a post of its own.

This particular part of the discussion leaves the confines of Naruto as a fictional universe entirely and instead delves into the realms of authorial intent analysis and criticism.

My TL;DR is Kishimoto very much intended for the "Curse of Hatred" to be real and the narrative sides with Hashirama and Tobirama (and that is problematic). In the longer version, I am particularly focusing on Tobirama as he is the founder of the Uchiha Clan Genetic Theories™.

I also apologize in advance because pointing out Kishimoto's shortsighted writing is something I have gotten harassed over in the past. Hence I believe some theoretic knowledge is needed.

<Analysis under the cut>

Note: As always, blue links are external links or other people's posts. Red links are my own posts that add context to my thought process.

The problem with Kishimoto's intent is that the guy almost never explains the intention of his writing. This is why discussions like "Was Itachi retconned" or "Does Kishimoto hate Sakura" persist to this day. The only thing we are left with is to instead infer the meaning from other sources (such as the manga itself or minor remarks from interviews).

My conclusion is influenced mainly by four things: The social and political context behind Naruto, Kishimoto's usual treatment of sensitive topics, the narrative of the manga itself, and fantasy genre conventions.

But before all that, here's a little info dump.

Death of the Author

In opposition to the idea that the "Curse of Hatred" is real in canon stands the idea that it was just Tobirama's racist propaganda piece - and this is actually a fairly widespread thought. Not necessarily a misconception, however, as it depends on your school of thought when it comes to engaging with fictional text - Extreme intentionalism (full submission to the author's intent), Anti-intentionalism (complete disregard of the author's intent), or anything in between. While extreme intentionalism can probably be considered the "truest to canon" (as opposed to anti-intentionalism, which is more like a subjective interpretation or "headcanon") it is also incredibly limiting to our fandom experience.

Before I continue this, I need people to understand that both approaches are valid. Especially in instances in which the author's intent translates very poorly into our contemporary understanding of the world, as is the case with the "Curse of Hatred". Both authorial intent and the audience's interpretation are vital puzzle pieces when engaging with a piece of media critically.

To clarify, I do not support Kishimoto's writing decisions in this. I am not pushing an anti-Uchiha clan agenda. What I am going for is analyzing Kishimoto's intended canon. As I have already pointed out, it is a canon that is problematic and nobody should be forced to submit to.

With that out of the way, back to the main topic.

Social and Political Context of Naruto

Personally, I believe it is possible that Kishimoto intended to portray themes of prejudice in his story. Mostly in the sense in which people get defined for their worst character traits (as we can see when comparing Tobirama's and Hashirama's characterization of the Uchiha Clan) or for their affiliations (as is also the case with Jinchuriki). I do not believe, however, that he was aiming for racism specifically - and definitely not for scientific racism, let alone eugenic ideologies. And this has a lot to do with Japan's lack of sensitivity when it comes to racism.

For starters, Japan has a very ethnically homogenous society with about 98% of its population being ethnically Japanese and therefore having one of the lowest diversity scores in the world. On top of that, Japan has no national human rights institutions or laws against racial discrimination. The Japanese population is rather unsensitized to themes of racism.

To not turn this into a fallacy of composition, a different user pointed out that Naruto (as a story) was possibly influenced by Japan's reactionary right-wing movement (possibly revealing Kishimoto's own political standing). The movement responded to an increase in anti-Japanese sentiment across Asia. Said sentiment was sparked by a controversy in which Japan omitted its war crimes (which is a well-known pattern in Japanese politics).

At the very least, it is correct that Naruto is very pro-state in its way of protecting the state's reputation by hiding its crimes from the public consciousness. Kishimoto himself demonstrates an incomplete understanding of Japan's war history by unintentionally paralleling WW2 crimes in his story or claiming that the war was the result of mere grudges when, in reality, it was racism and imperialist ideologies.

While this is just my hypothesis, Kishimoto's lack of political and social awareness could easily influence his perception of social injustices, such as racism. Insensitivity, meanwhile, might reduce any motivation to engage with such themes.

Inadequate Realization of Sensitive Storylines

So about insensitivity... This might actually be less of a hypothesis when we look at Kishimoto's repeated failure to address sensitive topics in his writing with dignity and/or a critical lens. I've also ranted about this in an older post.

We are talking about child soldiers and death matches between children (Chunin Exams), slavery (Hyuga Clan), human experimentation (Orochimaru), human trafficking (Kushina and maybe Mito) genocide (Uchiha Massacre), and the invasion of neutral territory (Amegakure). In all of these cases, crimes are not further acknowledged than a brief admittance of "damage was done" before the plot forgets about them entirely.

Chunin exams? Never talked about again.

Slavery? Naruto promised to change the Hyuga clan but never mentions it again.

Human experimentation? Orochimaru is welcomed back after his exile.

Human trafficking? The Jinchurikis got stockholmed, so everything's good!

Genocide? Addressing that might tarnish the Uchiha Clan's reputation. So we don't.

Invasion of neutral territory? We never see Amegakure again after Konan's passing.

It is a larger pattern in which social injustice is primarily introduced to add flavor in the form of "tragic backstories" but not actually to resolve it. We are supposed to condemn those tragedies, to feel sympathetic - but we are not supposed to criticize Konoha as a main perpetrator, enabler, or apologist.

To me, it doesn't seem like Kishimoto ever truly cared about those social issues. He knows they are bad, yes, but they were never the focus of the story and Kishimoto barely even stops to consider the implications.

The Manga's Narrative

The story does not engage critically with itself. And frankly, it also does not demand such critical thinking from its readers either.

In the manga, we are often presented with incorrect or incomplete exposition from unreliable narrators. Obito lies all the time, Madara gets the wrong story from Zetsu, Itachi gets the wrong story from who-knows-where, and Sasuke doesn't know what's going on half the time. The interesting part is how the truth behind those lies is usually uncovered.

Usually, we do not know that any of them are perpetuating a lie until said lie gets corrected by another character. Said character is usually a "source" in the sense that they have personally experienced the (until then) falsified events.

It is very rare that the audience gets to pick up on little clues to realize that a character is lying. One such instance is when Obito directly contradicts Itachi in his rendition of the story. But even then, the conflict between their two renditions gets resolved by a "source" character in the form of Kushina retelling the events from sixteen years ago.

Now, let's compare this to the "Curse of Hatred".

I have already mentioned this in another post (where I analyzed the curse and its contents), but the "Curse of Hatred" is first officially introduced by Obito. He focuses on the Uchiha's war-torn history and how that influenced its members. Tobirama more or less builds on that, adding his hypothesis about the Uchiha Clan's Sharingan and its effect on the user. Then Hagoromo adds some things about the reincarnation cycle that might play into this. In the end, Zetsu wraps it all up by revealing that he manipulated the Uchiha Clan for centuries.

The problem is that not one of these puzzle pieces directly contradicts the other and instead, they appear to complement each other. Therefore, no lie gets officially "disproven" in the story itself. Tobirama's Theories are treated as though they were perfectly fine fact that does not require revision.

We can further infer Tobirama's credibility on the matter by judging the present characters' reactions.

Hashirama, as explained in my previous post, tolerates if not accepts Tobirama's ideas. Orochimaru shows himself hostile toward Tobirama but does not take the chance to contradict him. Sasuke, who is an Uchiha and has personal experience with the Sharingan, shows no signs of protest. Skepticism, yes, but it slowly fades away until he seemingly accepts Tobirama's words as truth. He does not even attempt to argue against it.

Add to that that Tobirama is generally presented as a truthful character, described as "rational" and "principled" in the databook. He regularly criticizes or insults other characters without the bat of an eye, seemingly having no problem with tarnishing his own reputation, unconcerned with keeping up false appearances. He is not the type of character to lie.

Yes, Tobirama comes off as a bigot regardless, but that's because he's essentially an asshole and not because he is actually intended to be racist. Even in the event that what he says is non-factual, he fully believes it is. But also, the possibility that Tobirama is talking nonsense is not even hinted at (again, he is described as "rational" and no character seems to disapprove of the Uchiha Clan Genetic Theory TM).

Fantasy Fiction Conventions

In fantasy writing, none of what Tobirama says is actually uncommon. In fact, if anything, his theories concerning the Sharingan resemble popular fantasy tropes.

In Anime, many powers are awakened through trauma. This is called "Traumatic Superpower Awakening". The Sharingan is just one of many offenders, even in the story of Naruto. This reflects Tobirama's idea that the Sharingan is triggered through great emotional pain.

It is also a common trope that characters who gain too much power eventually go insane. This is called the "With Great Power Comes Great Insanity" trope and reflects the Uchihas' to essentially take away psychic damage alongside each newly awakened Sharingan power. Kishimoto just specifically linked that insanity or pain to the Sharingan (which represents the power of the Uchiha).

Yet another trope is the "Personality Powers" trope. This one can be seen in the Uchiha Clan's tendency to feel deep love and hate - at least one of which is essential for the awakening of a Mangekyo Sharingan (and, depending on the circumstances, a regular Sharingan). Hence Tobirama calls it "the eyes that reflect the heart". In other words, the personality facilitates the power.

Last but not least, we've got the fantasy races trope. The author invents a race and then assigns it distinct characteristics (both physiology and behavior-wise).

In its most extreme cases, this can be used to create an "enemy race" (such as orcs, vampires, demons, etc.) for the good guys to fight. It usually removes complexity from the story by dumbing down the enemy to simply just being "born evil".

Now, notice how the Uchiha Clan's Hatred could be considered a personification of Kishimoto's idea that wars are caused by grudges? Furthermore, Kishimoto makes that comment at a point in time (February 2012) when all three main antagonists of the story are Uchihas (Madara is revived in chapter 559, which was released October 2011), and then releases Tobirama's theory a year later (February 2013).

This one, unlike the other three, is particularly controversial as fantasy races often get conflated with real-life ethnicities. This is not always the intention of the author, however, as they often never intended to portray racial stereotypes. For two particularly popular examples, take a look at Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" or Itagaki's "Beastars".

On one hand of this debate, you have that fantasy races are unlike human ethnicities and do not necessarily reflect reality, simply because the author decides what is real in canon or not and because fantasy is always a lie from a real-world perspective. Hence the Curse of Hatred, or rather, Tobirama's Theory is canon.

On the other, fiction does not exist in a vacuum and it is impossible not to apply our contemporary understanding of racism and ignore what are otherwise screaming red flags of racist ideology. Hence we recognize Tobirama's explanation as racism and wish to reject the Curse of Hatred as a concept.

But these two ideas can coexist.

The problem is just that Kishimoto likely only accounted for one thing and not the other. His intention translated very poorly into our contemporary understanding of the world, making Tobirama (and therefore, Hashirama as well) the victims of short-sighted writing.

Who cares anyway?

In the beginning, I explained that regardless of what Kishimoto intended for his story, any interpretation is valid. So why should we care about what the author thinks?

In my analyses (which are separate from my headcanons), I will usually take an "Extreme Intentionalism" approach in which I prioritize the author's intent over the reader's interpretation. Not because I am opposed to the idea that the reader's interpretation is relevant to the meaning of a text but because readers' interpretations are unique to the individual. Focusing on such an individual interpretation can easily alienate those who don't share it. Hence I like to focus on something that is more informative, almost objective in nature, such as the author's likely intended canon - which people can then mould into whatever suits their headcanon best.

I have also noticed that, sometimes, anti-intentionalist takes will devolve into full-blown lies (sometimes with the purposeful intention of omitting canon). This lie can then be upheld in an attempt to condemn or rather bully those with intentionalist interpretations. This unwittingly protects the writer (as well as problematic writing conventions) from criticism.

This is why I think even Anti-Intentionalists should inform themselves of an author's intention. This is, more or less, an aspect of media literacy as it allows us to identify biased or manipulative narratives and take purposeful action. In our case, this involves questioning and criticizing Kishimoto as an individual, raising awareness about his writing's shortcomings, and learning from his mistakes.

[aziraphales-library]

Hi! This is the first time I'm asking something here. This library is fantastic and it's really useful! I've found some of my favourite stories here! ❤️ Thanks for the work you are doing ❤️ I wanted to ask if it's possible to have recommended stories by their length or word count. I usually read one-shots or stories that have a word count of maximum 3000 words. Thanks in advance if you can do that. I also don't really care about the tropes, tags or rating, i will read anything short. ❤️❤️❤️

Hello and you're welcome! We have a few posts on our #short fic tag. Length is also a very easy thing to filter for on AO3, here is a search for completed English language Aziraphale/Crowley fics up to 3000 words. And here is but a small selection...

Angel Wiggles™ by his_infinitevariety (G)

Crowley wants to make Aziraphale happy enough to wiggle.

Two Beds by wackylittlegal (G)

It feels weird to go back to normal after the Apocalypse That Wasn't. Too much has happened that *wasn't* normal. In need of a break from their respective places, Crowley and Aziraphale go on a bit of a trip and are so cute about it.

All the Anguish You Suppressed by EdosianOrchids901 (T)

Aziraphale has been acting strange, and Crowley is worried. When he mentions the odd behavior, Aziraphale reveals that he’s been feeling homesick. Can Crowley help him work through his conflicted feelings about Heaven?

Sweet Dreams by NeamhMoonstar_eng (G)

There's a reason Aziraphale doesn't sleep, and it dates back to the dawn of time - actually, much earlier than that.

In the (Second) Beginning by cherryfeather (M)

As their lunch stretches on Aziraphale slowly comes to realize that Crowley is—enjoying him. Enjoying Aziraphale’s conversation, and company, far more openly than he has in most of Aziraphale’s memory. And Aziraphale knows that he himself is just chattering on, letting conversational tangents carry him along, and—it’s definitely relief, for him, knowing for the first time in a long time that they aren’t being watched, that no one is keeping score for now. - Aziraphale realizes that Crowley's been saying something rather loudly for a week.

You Deserve Love by boredom (G)

Aziraphale has never felt loved. At least, not in the way he wants. After the apocalypse, things come to a head and Crowley is left to pick up the pieces.

- Mod D

[versegm]

Berserker is laser-focused as they set the building blocks on top of another. The tower is nothing fancy- batches of three blocks set on top of one another- but the result is getting rather tall. It reaches Rin’s hip now, and Berserker shows no sign of stopping.

Which begs the question: “What are you doing.”

Berserker barely spares her a glance. “It’s Jenga! I found it in your basement.”

“Jenga?” The word sounds foreign on her tongue.

“It’s a game.” They explain. “You build a tower, then everyone takes a block out, one by one. The one who makes the tower collapse loses.”

Ah, this does ring a bell, yes. Fuzzy memories of playing as a child float in Rin’s head. She stopped being a child a long time ago, though. “Aren’t you a bit old for such games?”

“There’s no age to play around and have fun!” Berserker nods to themselves. “You can’t be serious all the time. Even if everything is on fire and the world is crumbling away, you need to be a little silly at times. There’s no way you’ll be able to stay sane otherwise.”

“I am not taking advice on sanity from you.” She states plainly. “And it’s still embarrassing to see a grown adult-” She pauses. “… wait, how old are you again?” The scars make them look ancient, but their body itself doesn’t seem much older than her.

“I am older than nineteen.”

She narrows her eyes. “That’s a weird way to say it.”

“I don’t have any answer more specific than that.”

Oooh boy. It’s a Berserker Moment™. Rin hates when that happens. Why must they always make the simplest things needlessly complicated? “What year were you born in?”

“1999.”

“And what year did you die in?”

“2026.”

“So you’re twenty-seven.” A decade older than her, then. That’s plenty old-

“Not really. There were a lot of years between 1999 and 2026.”

… “Yes. Twenty-seven of them. That’s how time works.” Do they… not… know? How to do math? They’re a modern-day servant, they shouldn’t have any problem doing basic additions.

They snort. “Maybe for you. Time is a river you’re floating in. Meanwhile I left on the shore and I got completely lost.”

Wow. The metaphor was so clear it looped right back to being confusing. “This is stupid and makes no sense.” She says plainly.

Berserker hums, then turns back to their work. “This tower. It’s linear, isn’t it? It goes in only one direction, from bottom to top.”

The subject change is so sudden Rin doesn’t know how to react. “…Yes?”

“This piece,” they point at a darker block towards the top “is after this one down there. This is an immutable fact of this tower. So long as you perceive the tower like a tower, this block will come after this one.”

“Are you actually going somewhere with this, or?”

Berserker sideeyes her. “You’re terrible at listening, aren’t you? I know you’re prideful in your way of life, but if you try to force that worldview on everyone else, you will only alienate yourself from others.”

“I’m sorry?” What the fuck. That came out of nowhere?! “Need I remind you who you Master is? You can’t just- ”

 “Time is like Jenga.” They continue, blatantly ignoring her. “To you, it’s a tower. It’s linear. It’s coherent. There are twenty-seven years between 1999 and 2026. My death happened after I was born. Nothing can exist prior to being created.”

Their tone is even and casual. Their shoulders are relaxed. Their behavior is calm and collected. Nothing about them indicates violence.

She doesn’t even see them swipe. One moment, the tower is there, and the next the building blocks are flying across the room.

“But,” they continue, standing among the scattered remains of time, “this is what time is to me.”

[sibillascribbles08]

Jasonnie week Day 4 - Past/Future

Lil fic for this one! And just a quick cw it opens with a nightmare with Kendra being Shitty™

It was a common occurrence, or a typical Friday night he supposed. Kendra talked about plans for the weekend while picking up whatever she wanted off his desk. Her nails picked apart a model he hadn’t glued together yet. She gave out a horribly fake, “oops,” as she dropped the tiniest piece onto the carpet. She’d knock whatever drink he had toward his keyboard—he started making sure they were all capped bottles now. She’d close a project without saving it. She’d take whatever pen he might be flipping between his fingers and chuck it in the trash.

And she just kept talking, as if her word were law. Whatever she says goes. 

Jason typically didn’t retaliate. He just sat there and listened, waiting and praying for her to get bored and leave. Let him get back to work. 

“You know, that is a silver lining, isn’t it?” She asked, putting the remains of his figure back on the desk.

He tried not to glare. “What?”

“Well, since Travis broke up with you, now you’re free this weekend.” She grinned at him. 

That made rage snap in his chest, because that was all her fault. He didn’t even know how he knew that, but he did. She must have started a rumor, or lied to him, or pulled some other stunt to convince Travis that Jase was talking shit behind his back. It wasn’t even true. 

In a very untypical fashion, Jason lashed out.

He swung a punch as he stood, aimed right for her. But it didn’t hit. Kendra just wasn’t there anymore. He blinked and glanced around. Why was his room suddenly darker? Why were there so many shelves? And boxes? 

His breathing came to a halt when he recognized it. He tried to sprint for the door.

And there Kendra stood, lit from behind as she glared at him. 

“I wish those aliens had killed you.” She spat before slamming the door shut.

Jason crashed into it, desperately trying to undo the lock only to fail. Then something clawed at it, followed by a sharp bark. Jason stumbled back and hit the floor, barely able to breathe. His stomach clenched and twisted. His throat felt impossibly dry. He gasped for air but it felt more like he was swallowing it.

“Jase?”

Whose voice was that? He could barely hear it through the violent barks and growls as the claws started to rip into the door.

“Jase!”

Something grabbed his shoulders and the darkness vanished. No, not completely vanished. The room he found himself in was still dark but not in the same way. The faintest of blue outlines lined the walls and the doors. 

Jason reached up to touch the hand on his shoulder. Donnie’s hand. In an instant his fingers curled around the turtle’s calloused palms, letting the sensation ground him. 

He was here. In their room. In their apartment. On the top floor of the building that Donnie renovated for all kinds of mutants to live in. 

He breathed in through his nose and out of his mouth as he forced his heart to slow down. 

“Nightmare?” Donnie’s breath brushed against his hair. 

Jason nodded, squeezing his hand tighter.

“The usual?”

“Nah,” he sighed. “Kendra was there, actually.” 

Donnie moved his hand so his arm wrapped around Jase, tugging him close. 

Jason let himself curl up against his fiancé. Even if the turtle’s plastron wasn’t the softest thing, it felt sturdy and safe. 

“Feeling sick?” Donnie rubbed his back.

“Nah, I’m alright. Dream didn’t get far enough for that.” Thanks to being woken up. But rather than verbalize that he tilted his head to plant a brief kiss on Donnie’s shoulder. 

“Feels strange.” He kept going, though he spoke quietly in case Donnie dozed off. “Dream felt so real for a while there. Like just another day during high school. Then I wake up here.” 

Donnie only hummed in response, confirmation that he was listening. 

“If you went back in time and told my high school self that I’d end up with pretty much anything I have now, I don’t think he’d believe you.” 

His fiancé huffed out a laugh. “I’m not sure I would either. I mean. Imagine if my future self said ‘oh yeah by the way you’re going to fall madly in love with the guy from the Purple Dragons.’” 

Jason lightly jabbed Donnie in the hip in response to that. “Sure, but that’s not exactly what I mean.” 

“Elaborate.”

“Well it’s like… being free from Kendra. Being in a steady relationship at all. Being away from my mom and fixing things with my dad. Heck, now I have an additional two parents? I’m a co-owner of a major tech company?” He curled up even tighter against his fiancé’s chest. “Just… being surrounded by people who love me in general. Sometimes it’s hard to believe this happened to me.” 

He briefly considered what his father told him not long after that invasion. That he didn’t have to be successful or famous or rich or any of that. That if he just reached a point where he felt happy to be alive, that’d be enough. 

And he was. He was so glad he survived that invasion. Because doing so helped him survive a lot more than that. 

Donnie kissed his head, then his forehead, one hand moving to brush against the side of his face. 

But then the turtle must have found the stubble on his cheeks because suddenly Donnie pressed his palm down against the skin and rubbed it way too hard.

“Donnie.” Jason shoved his fiancé away, or the best he could manage at least. “Do not. We’re supposed to be sleeping.” He rolled over to look at the digital clock that sat on the nightstand. He had to squint without his glasses, but he could still make out the date and time. Not even half past 3 AM? He was about to groan but then his eyes fixed on the date. Something in his brain kept clicking together before it finally snapped into place.

“Oh my god.” He mumbled, hands still pressed against Donnie’s shoulder. “It's our wedding day.” 

Donnie took his hand. “Yup.” 

Jason turned to look at his fiancé. Difficult to do in the low light, but his silhouette was visible from the light coming in the window. “We’re getting married.”

“Yeah.” Donnie wrapped his arms around him again, holding him close. 

It’s not like Jason didn’t know about this. They’d been planning it for months. The venues, the decorations, their clothes, every aspect of it. He knew it before they went to bed, a giddiness sitting in his chest that wouldn’t leave. And there it was again and he wondered if he’d ever get back to sleep. 

He was getting married. To Donatello. This massive, genius turtle who one day out of the blue extended a peaceful hand and Jason decided to take it.

And now they were here. 

He had no idea what was going through Donnie’s head in the silence, but the turtle squeezed him tighter. “I love you.” 

Jason couldn’t really return the gesture, being practically trapped, but he at least reached up to squeeze Donnie’s arm in response. “I love you too.” 

And then he drifted back to sleep.

[7grandmel]

Rip of the week: 29/07/2024

W.E. Are Number One?

Season 8 Featured on: The Joke-Explainer 7000™'s Highest Quality Rips: Sunrise

Ripped by Birdator

Tentative rip name: V.NR. One Was Four?

As SiIvaGunner grows, its bound to tackle more and more out-there and experimental ideas, to continue to raise the bar of quality higher than the season prior did. You'll see this be done through rips of less prominent games, such as with Last Freight-train Night and Owner of a Mahjong Board, or through rips incorporating long-though-dead jokes in all-new ways like with Satin PantE's - and, of course, the outright madness of rips like my rip :). Yet on the opposite side of that coin lies the other method of evolution, of refinement. In other words, to simply do that which has been done before on a level never before thought possible. Yep: With W.E. Are Number One?, it's once again time to cover a "Surprised this hadn't been done yet!" rip.

If you follow the channel on any sort of level, it's likely that you've seen responses such as the one quoted floating about in the SiIvaGunner comments sections. They're of course not meant to be taken as demeaning or insulting, but rather that they identify the rip as using a concept so brilliant and simple that you'd think it would've been done back in the channel's early years, the "lowest hanging fruit" concepts, if you will. For as much as I love the earliest years of SiIvaGunner, many of its rips were indeed simply taking the expected concept and...doing it. That is of course what gave us all-time legendary rips like Athletic Doctor, Mt. Dedede (extended) and many more, but even within Season 1 you could see the team noticing this pattern of people expecting what the rip was going to be way ahead of time and thus worked to find ways to subvert expectations. Yet, as we'd find out many times over across the channel's life, through events like The Disappearance of Super Mario and Your Best Nightmario, sometimes the greatest form of subversion is to simply accomplish the set-out goal to a degree so far above the viewer's expectations, to where they'll have no choice to be amazed.

Indeed, the Touhou series is bursting at the seams with music that has completely infiltrated all corners of VGM culture. Even as a non-fan myself it's been impossible to ignore the franchise's impact on online circles, and how it led to incredible rips like Imperial Touwer and Beautiful Dreamer - and even as a non-fan, every time I see U.N. Owen Was Her? in my recommendations, I'm desperately compelled to relisten to it just one more time. By that same token, We Are Number One endures as perhaps the most timeless and eternally-quality meme source on SiIvaGunner: This post will mark the 7th time I've covered a rip that's just a WANO rearrangement, succeeding the likes of Robbie's Rotten Mine, Chillin' Like A Villain, and so many more. To take a popular song from internet culture, or a popular source frequently used on SiIva, and rearrange it with We Are Number One's legendary meme-ska instrumentation - it is, again, like low-hanging fruit, not necessarily anything bad, but exactly something you'd expect to see done at some point. With W.E. Are Number One?, the task put upon ripper Birdator was thus to find a way to make this concept interesting.

Yet really, after you get past the initial shock of "two pieces of music I recognize, what an easy joke!" - that hook is already present from the word go. Compared to so many other sources on the channel and so many other pieces of viral online music, U.N. Owen Was Her? is a DEVIOUSLY layered track, a steady 4/4 time signature and percussion, yet with a lead melody that feels as if it's ping-ponging between hyperactivity, tension-building and full-on drama, like three different stages of an argument that the track somehow back and fourth between. How do you translate such a seemingly complex song into instrumentation as, in some ways, one-note as that of We Are Number One? Simple - you get creative within your limitations. For example, one of my favorite uses of the source in question is within Ska Cha Cha (Rotten Mix), where the funky vocal-sample driven sound of Hideki Naganuma's music is recreated through excellent sampling of Robbie Rotten's "HA-HA-HA"'s and other such vocal mannerisms. W.E. Are Number One? takes a page right out of this book and, for large parts of its runtime, ignores the We Are Number One lyrics, delegating them to a specific section of the song and instead relying on use of the saxophone, percussion, and - of course - the aforementioned voice clips throughout large sections of the track. Even without those lyrics, it is unmistakeably WANO, however, down to the absolutely insane touch of having the instrumentation add flourishes completely unrelated to U.N. Owen Was Her?, but instead calling back specifically to We Are Number One's saxophone melody. Althewhile using WANO's own percussion as the backing, WANO's vocals playing to the rhythm of WANO itself but playing alongside sections arranging the original Touhou music...

It comes together in a package that's so polished and well-rounded, to where I almost struggle to find the words to describe it. Birdator achieved making one of those rips that some deep-in-the-trenches losers like myself have been subconsciously dreaming of in their minds for years, and pulled it off so effortlessly that it feels as if that dream was just posted right onto the SiIvaGunner channel. Hearing the We Are Number One saxophone play shit as insane as the opening riff of U.N. Owen Was Her? is a magical experience, yet the rip continues to just go with the flow from there, never content in just being a novelty or single fun gimmick like a number of rips of the channel's early days did. With W.E. Are Number One?, Birdator pushed beyond what I thought would be possible for a rip of this concept - and shows, yet again, that one can never truly know what to expect from SiIvaGunner's dastardly rippers. Even when you get the expected, you can never be safe.

[venusdebotticelli]

I just wrote a monster of a reply on this post by @girlbossblackbeard, but I wanted to post this part on its own as well, because this epiphany just completely obliterated all my theories about the possible first reunion between Ed and Stede! (I do think they're gonna have tons of reunions throughout the season, as Stede keeps chasing after Ed and Ed keeps avoiding him and telling him to get lost.)

In their op, they pointed this out:

"the BTS production still of ed with his "trust no one" tattoo also features what i believe is the treasure chest we see jim carrying off the ship in the shot where fang is smashing two dudes' heads together!"

And in response, I noticed many many more things about that particular ship's crew, and what it says about who might be present:

I agree that the chest in Ed's quarters looks like the one they're carrying off that ship, but if I may add even more details...

The guy Stede successfully punches is dressed like the crew from that same ship where Ed is dressed like the Vampire Clown Blackbeard version, still with the Kraken makeup on, and shooting at something¿? (I don't think whatever he's shooting at is actually Stede, because you can see Frenchie and Jim's heads on the bottom left of that shot, and they don't seem all that interested in whatever Blackbeard is currently doing, they're just focused on their loot/corpses/whatever. And idk how I feel about the theory that Izzy loses his leg because Ed shoots it, rather than just gangrene, but if we were to go with that one: what if Izzy and Stede have been collaborating in secret, and this raid is when Ed finds out? I don't want or particularly expect that prediction to actually be right, but just putting it out there *shrug emoji* It could then also lead to Ed's "very rough night" and recruiting Frenchie to help with cleaning up his act the next morning?)

Also, when Stede does his swirly bit with the coat he's very much aboard the Revenge, because that's what the internal doors look like on the ship:

But I have no idea how that fits in the timeline. I think there may be a gap between when he first finds the coat, until the moment he gets to actually put on the whole suit with the matching pants¿? Or maybe not¿? Maybe all of that is happening in eps 1-2, which is an insane amount of information¿?¿??¿¿? 🔥🙌🔥

Also, I just realised this after I wrote all of that, I think this might be Jim going in behind Stede into the "I did a punch!" room¿? What's going on?¿?¿¿?¿?¿?¿? 😭

Tl;dr, I am losing my whole mind trying to piece a timeline with this scene 🔥🙌🔥 The Reunion™ could be as soon as ep1 going by this?¿?¿¿? While Ed is still in Kraken mode?¿¿?¿??

Edit: I also have no idea how Izzy/Jim's makeup or lack thereoff fits in with this timeline. Maybe they raid the same ship twice, at two separate points in time? Or it's a fleet with a strict uniform code, maybe a different navy, other than the English?

The Spanish Navy grunts from s1 dressed like this:

which is actually a very similar look, so maybe it really is just two different ships from the Spanish navy. It also explains all the catholic imagery and paraphernalia in the room where Stede finds the red & gold suit (the same colours as the ones the Spanish officers have).

So nvm, I've just convinced myself they're two separate instances, and I'm back to thinking the first reunion might be the headbutt 😅

Still interesting to point out, I think :D

(Also wondering about the significance of red neckties this season, which the Spanish grunts were missing in s1 but now all have, and Spanish Jackie's, and obviously, Stede's... 😁)

[crime-wives]

13, 26, 27, please!

thank you for the ask!

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

oh wow, starting off with a tough one lol. hmm ok, i have a few fics dealing with self-harm, a topic incredibly personal to me. it's very difficult for me to write about, but simultaneously easy. i think the hard part about it is feeling like i need to be in a certain headspace when i'm writing about topics like that. and that headspace is often harmful for me. however, it's also easy to write about because i know how it feels so it kinda brings me a lot of catharsis. for example, in my most recent fic, my sky's not blue (it's violent rain) (absolutely shameless self-promo, heed the tags!) i struggled a lot with actually finishing it. my lovely friend @emily-prentits let me rant in their dms about it :)

26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

to get into a character's head i constantly ask myself "what would they do if this happened?" i also try and think about where they are in the story and how they act. for example, s1 regina mills is completely different from s4 regina mills. so it really helps to contextualize where i want them to be in their arc. getting out is usually pretty easy because i tend to write in short, sporadic burst, rather than well-planned thought-out writing sessions. usually after i write, i'll read fic for a bit to transition away from writing mode™. sometimes i do regret going there, especially for my heavier fics, because of the headspace i have to be in to write those. but i find ways to deal with it.

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

i would say either regina mills or addison montgomery.

addison is SO complex, she has so many different facets that a writer can choose to explore and it's really interesting to see how these often contradictory pieces fit together. an example of this is her cheating, she knows what she did was wrong, she regrets it, but she also tries to justify it. she's stressful to write because i always think i'm going to mess up her characterization.

regina is also stressful to write because she is like twenty different people in one. she's regina mills: mayor of a small cursed town in maine, fierce and unwilling to back down and also kind of a bitch. she's the evil queen: sadistic and vengeful and she doesn't care for anyone or anything. she young regina: tormented and abused, yet still and idealist at heart. seeking love and watching it crumble to pieces. she's leopold's wife: a child bride forced to mother a girl only a few years younger than herself. she's angry and trapped and so very alone. finally, she's henry's mom: caring and protective and loving with her whole heart. so it's really interesting to see how all these versions of regina affect her. which parts of her are which? when writing regina, all of these things are present, lurking in her subconscious. so it's extremely difficult to capture all of it without it coming off as too much or heavy handed.

anyway, i am so sorry for how long this got, i got a little carried away lol :)

[papa-evershed]

Hey! If you’re interested in doing so For Science or something, I could go a run down on your favourite moments from the Act On interviews. I really feel like Rob is so comfortable and engaged in those, they’re a delight.

I can definitely do this! This is right up my alley because I completely agree, I feel like the Act On This interviews are when we get the best glimpse of him just being him because it isn't press related. And quite frankly, him just being himself is more interesting to me than watching someone answer the same five questions over and over again on a press tour. (Not that I'd complain if he did do more press. I'll take whatever I can get, I'm not fussy.)

I'm going to apologize ahead of time for the length and because this will most likely be a very unorganized list. I considered doing video clips but Tumblr just makes that too much of a pain in the ass. 😩

(* I decided to really only do the most recent Act On This because otherwise I'd be here all damn week trying to make a list and ain't no one got time to read that. 😂)

First off, it's not exactly a moment but like previously mentioned—just the general vibe of these interviews. It's so much more laid back and less professional (in a good way) so we get to see The Hot Mess Express™ in all of his glory and who wouldn't appreciate that small glimpse into his unfiltered chaos? These gifs literally happened within seconds of each other. Between him dropping his phone, struggling to set it right, then immediately breaking into dance, I get whiplash just watching.

2. I won't gif this one because he's so understandably private about his kids, but the moment when one of them bursts in not long after the above moment. And honestly, there isn't anything there to gif (again, not that I ever would) because boy was quick as lightning to turn that camera to protect his kid's privacy. 100/10. For all of his goofing off, Dad was quick to Dad™. And even with that distraction and the speed with which he remedied it—he still kept up with what Ross was asking and saying to him. For all the talk of how much of a class clown he is, it appears he can still handle his shit without missing a beat when it really matters and this was a prime example of that.

3. When he pretty much just admitted to being drunk during the Christmas trivia. Keep it real, that's how we like it. 😎

4. This one may be considered a boring choice but another one of my favorite aspects of the Act On This interviews is hearing him get to speak so candidly about his acting process. It's not something most actors really get to discuss in great length with traditional press anymore unless they're the pretentious, insufferable, method sort that make headlines with their extremes. But hearing him discuss how he tried to find ways to bring warmth to the character in The Inheritance made me even more interested in seeing it—to see how much of it they kept, to see if the attempts were even successful. He talked about adding humor because otherwise the audience might grow tired of these fighting siblings and he's right. When he finally does settle down and get serious, he gives incredibly insightful answers and I feel like his approach to most characters is just spot on. So yeah, a thoughtful answer that also increased my interest in an upcoming project is a major win.

5. It's happened over the course of a few different Act On This interviews so it's a bit hard to gif or anything but when either he or Ross mentions how frugal he is. 😅😂 He's got a five year old IPhone (which shouldn't be remarkable but lbr), his laptop supposedly only works if it's plugged into the wall, he'd rather have the money than a make-up artist, and I'm almost positive there are examples I'm missing. Love me a frugal king. 👑

6. I wouldn't call this one a moment really, more so just another example of why I love Act On This—for little pieces of insight and perspective like this. I like learning how people cope with different things and what tools they use, this one is also just very relatable because it's something I find myself also doing as I get older too (although not in audition rooms, obviously).

7. Similar to the last one, whenever he talks about how he's found ways to deal with nerves. It's especially interesting to me because I feel like I've seen a lot of chatter among fans as to whether or not he gets nervous but he's pretty transparent about how his nerves have sabotaged him in the past. It's something else that's relatable, when he discusses finding methods that work for him (mindfulness really is slept on). It takes a certain level of vulnerability to admit when you've been actively searching for ways to cope and it's admirable to hear anyone not just admit it but to encourage others to do the same. Plus, don't we all watch these hoping for those honest moments?

8. Because I'm a trash person and I wouldn't be me without admitting it...every single moment when he has the audacity to just exist looking like this. 🤷‍♀️ He was 🔥🔥and I'm honest enough to admit that the eye candy is certainly a perk of any Act On This interview.

Honestly, I could keep going but I will spare us all.

Of course there's the obvious mentions too, like whenever he breaks into song and/or dance. The Christmas trivia was a pleasure. And like most people, I also enjoy just any little personal tidbit he's chosen to share throughout the years, even something as simple as what beer he wants to drink or his love of house plants.

Overall, I appreciate these interviews because like you said, they're just so comfortable and engaging. Once he gets the wiggles out there's usually some really great advice or tidbits shared so I really watch these always waiting on those moments and anything else is just icing on the cake.

Hopefully this was somewhat of a satisfactory answer and bless anyone that's read this far. 😳

[sideblogofawriter]

This is an old topic, but one that will never die... unlike [REDACTED].

In the aftermath of og Lesson 16™, there's about a million ways things could go. Besides the lack of closure on the casually written and basically never mentioned again death, the more interesting part to me is the casually written and basically never mentioned again relationship to Lilith. I mean, yeah, it's probably the reason MC has more hidden power than Solomon, but the story doesn't ever focus on it. It's a plot device meant to tie the arc up neatly with a bow, not something we're supposed to dwell on... presumably because it can get potentially weird and uncomfortable if you do.

So naturally, imagining the possibilities and potential implications is one of my favorite things to do.

To that end, two of my favorite scenarios/plot bunnies/i-make-it-worse-before-i-fix-its that have spawned from this are (long blocks of text incoming):

MC (like me) either knew or had a very good idea they were related to Lilith by the time Barbatos and Diavolo showed up and spilled the beans... so they don't let them, for fear it would change their relationship with the brothers. At a subtle shake of the head, Diavolo understands and flips the story to "Barbatos has traced Lilith’s lineage all the way to the modern day, and discovered she has (at least) one surviving descendant." No names are named, Belphegor is convinced enough that his sister lead a happy life to let go of his grudge against humans, life should be good... except the brothers develop an obsession with finding Lilith’s descendant. Barbatos won't share any information for some reason, so they set to investigating themselves. And they NEVER stop talking about it. All the things they want to do with Lilith’s descendant, favorite places they want to go, things they want to show them... MC bites their tongue and smiles, saying they're sure Lilith’s descendant will love the new café. Privately, they're more certain than ever they made the right decision: without even having met Lilith’s descendant (or so they think), the brothers are acting as though their sister herself has come back from the dead, already making preparations based on her own likes and dislikes as if they're the same person. And more than that, isn't it rather hypocritical of the demons - who were acting so apathetic or even disdainful toward humans until just recently - to be putting one they've never met on a pedestal? Even Lucifer, who already knew Lilith survived, is thoroughly involved in the investigations now that his brothers are so invested. And then it slips, somehow, not that MC is Lilith’s descendant, but that MC has known who Lilith’s descendant was all this time they've been searching. All this time MC has been "helping" them search. And isn't that just a rock and a hard place.

MC is revealed to be Lilith’s descendant at the usual time and place. In the weeks that follow, however, between Belphegor’s cuddling up to them and the others' general merriment considering the death that just occurred, it starts to weigh on MC mentally that maybe they're so thrilled to have a piece of their sister back that nothing else matters to them. If only MC could do it all again... or could they? Sensing that things are not headed in a good direction right now, Barbatos agrees to send MC back in time again. But it's different this time: instead of having to avoid their past self, they are their past self, restarting the year as if everything up till now has just been a bad dream. It's a completely blank slate, with only MC's mind intact so they can avoid making the same mistakes. And it goes great... until MC learns that in this timeline, Barbatos is in jail, powers sealed, for messing with time without first consulting Diavolo. And moreover, for some reason, he refuses to share with the prince exactly what he did. So not only are any deaths permanent this time, but there's an ongoing investigation into conspiracies against the throne and student council during this crucial time of the exchange program. It's not long before both MC and the brothers discover - at the same time - that they already have pacts. Pacts that powerful demons have no recollection of making with an oddly knowledgeable human they barely know. And isn't that just a rock and a hard place.

[unlikely-cherry-blossom]

The post you made about the ketil supporters? I'm shooketh. I don't follow fandoms much but this was like... just what the hell. What kind of shit is this?

Good question: I'm just as shocked as you.

I mean, I maybe understand not liking a character even without a reason. Your choice, and everything.

What strikes me though, is the blatant mysoginy end even slave advocating. The notion that a person has to settle down with a derogatory title for their whole life just because treated "better" than others, because their owner is "nicer" than others.

Manga

Anime.

Does this look like a happy woman? Does this look like a satisfied and fulfilled person?

Ketil was nice? Yes. But that was that. It was rather clear that he was possessive of her and wouldn't have given her the possibility of freedom, it was even explicitly stated at one point. Unlike Thorfinn and Einar, she couldn't have her freedom back. He must have loved her veeeeeery much, for sure. Unlike Einar, that cared about her happiness and was happy if she was happy.

Because Ketil is Nice™

Poor rich Ketil, poor manly man Ketil who doesn't have a damn a damn bone and prefers to beat children instead of appearing "weak" on a bunch of people WHO HE PAYS TO WORK AND DEPEND COMPLETELY ON HIM ECONOMICALLY SPEAKING. And can't even protect the woman he supposedly loves from his wife and cannot even stand up for himself. What he could do? Have sex of HOW terrible his life is, on his SLAVE's lap.

"But she was happy to have his child-"

Do I have to remember WHAT happened to her child with her husband? Do I?

Is disgusting too how they had to bring up her status as a sex slave, as if she applied for it.

"But Askeladd/Thorfinn did worse, she killed four people with her stupidity-"

What a balancing indeed. Four pieces of shit on earth died (sorry, not sorry Snake I don't care about your feelings here) who years prior wanted to kill Einar and Thorfinn. Because they were slaves.

Poor Snake :(

Poor man, he must have suffered for his piece of shit bros, they sure have been pure angels that now are part of God's angels for how good they were

Just say you hate her for being a woman who dared to have sex with more men (only two I guess) instead of faux reasons.

Believe me, I hate using the word "mysoginy" on fandom discourse because of sjws around, but how can I describe this even? And defending SLAVERY too, just the cherry on the top. And they literally justify EVERY MAN, NAMED AND UNNAMED that casually is A MAN.

Sorry for this grammatical horror if a rant, kinda got boiled here. And now, Rize out.

[frankensteinical]

Forty Days of Frankenstein, Bits and Pieces: So, after I get to day Forty, I like to fill out the remaining days till Hallowe’en with Frankenstein images I found this year, but too late to squeeze into the sequence. And this one, well, it may not look like much, but to me it’s a veritable White Whale. Up until this year, I had been completely unable to find a Frankenstein image produced in the year 1956. There wasn’t a film, a comic book, a boardgame, a book cover, a TV teleplay, an advertisement, nothing. And I’ve been seriously following the Frankensteins for over a decade. This year, though, I finally found this. It’s a one panel cartoon, taken from a 1956 issue of a satirical newspaper called Lúdas Matyi (literally “Mattie the Goose-Boy,” a Hungarian folk hero whose story is told in an epic poem). The newspaper, a product of Communist Hungary, pokes fun at decadent Western capitalist values, as in this cartoon, in which beautiful women fawn over the unattractive Frankenstein Monster, because he’s a famous movie star. Note, the term behind the Monster is “művészbejáró,” which, as far as I can determine means “actors’ entrance,” in context. I love the fact that, in this reality, as is often the case in cartoons of the era, it’s the actual Monster himself, rather than some actor playing the Monster, who’s the Hollywood star. Note, also, that the Monster works at “Horror Film Studios.” Alas, no such studio exists. Also worth noting, the Monster’s usual Pretty Good Sport Coat™ is, in this depiction, a Pretty Good Suit. I cannot tell you how excited I was to find this cartoon—as far as I have discovered so far, the only piece of Frankenstein media produced in all of 1956.

[msfcatlover]

@fatwithoutkatsudon

Thank you so much for your patience, things in my life kinda got crazy! Going through all my saved Red Hood!Steph fics (and several I bookmarked and have been meaning to get to for a while), I’ll admit I was a little disappointed to realize the majority of fics where we get to see her going Absolutely Off The Chain(TM) are not, in fact, Reverse!Robins fics, just slight role-shuffle fics. All the same, I compiled my favorites, and I hope you enjoy them!

.

Starting with what you specifically asked for, the Reverse!Robins fics.

archiveofourown.org/works/43121650   This fic is more a series of vignettes than anything else. Plenty of other things are different from your standard Reverse!Robins fic—Cass is Oracle, the Robin Steph has beef with is actually Duke, they gave Steph Jason’s entire arc, etc.—so it’s a very interesting verse to explore, even only for a little while. (Personally, not my favorite? I prefer my role-swap AUs to find ways to fit canon stories into the new format, rather than just hand certain characters entirely different backstories. It’s also a very fandom-standard take on UtRH, if that makes sense. But if you’re looking for a verse with lots of fun concepts & Steph being positively unhinged, it really delivers!)

 archiveofourown.org/works/39577671   A collection of the major events in every one of the kids’ live, told in timestamped vignettes.

archiveofourown.org/works/23653387   From death to peace, in a series of timestamped scenes: Stephanie Brown.

archiveofourown.org/series/2747734   The 2nd fic in this series is Steph dropping by to talk with Tim, apparently mid-UtRH. It’s short, and not really violent, but it’s got the vibe (if that makes sense.)

archiveofourown.org/series/1686565   Okay, so this series skips around a lot, it’s mostly slice of life stuff, it’s almost entirely set post-“Red Hood reunites with the Batfam,” and there isn’t really any unhingedness to be found. But! It is a lot of fun, and Steph’s costume design is rad.

archiveofourown.org/works/43507033   More slice of life/post-reunion stuff. So far, just a oneshot of Dick being a brat, and Steph being an obnoxious older sister.

archiveofourown.org/series/2828071   Sadly, there is no Steph in this verse; at least not directly. The 2 fics there are focused on Damian’s relationships instead. But, theoretically, there may someday be RH!Steph.    (I’m so sorry. I have my eye on this one and I want to rec it, but it does not actually meet the criteria.)

archiveofourown.org/works/38750607   Jason drops by the alley to say hi to some working girls he was friends with before his adoption. Steph catches him, misunderstands, and becomes incensed at the idea of Bruce sending a kid to do that sort of undercover work. (Probably the weirdest rec on this list, and I completely get it if it’s not your thing. Platonic!ABO, which is to say set in a world with the social/biological rules of any other A/B/O setting but without any sex or romance, just characters going about their lives. Even with those additional changes in place, this manages to check most of my boxes for what I love to see in a RH!Steph piece.) [WARNING: Mentioned past underage prostitution.]

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These ones aren’t technically Reverse Robin stories, but Steph still very much takes up a Red Hood-esque role in their stories.

archiveofourown.org/series/852580  Steph wakes up in her grave, but doesn’t have to dig her way out because Jason was already in the middle of digging her up. He takes her back to his apartment to patch her up, and the rest of what’s there so far is just them bonding. (This author is clear Steph’s not going full anti-hero—much to my disappointment—but she’s still planning to help Jason out in some capacity, so I’m including it on this list.) [WARNING: UNFINISHED WIP]

archiveofourown.org/series/2749570  A verse in which Red Hood rolls up into town with his own sidekick, Red Rider. (I’ll admit, I’m not exactly in love with the author’s formatting choices, but that’s a purely aesthetic taste. It also focuses pretty heavily on Steph/Cass, and as I’ve said before, shipping isn’t the catharsis I come to Batfam fics for. So it’s not my personal favorite, but I completely understand if it is someone else’s.) [WARNING: UNFINISHED WIP]

archiveofourown.org/works/43744603   If you want more of Steph being RH!Jason’s sidekick, here you go. This Steph never worked with the Bats before Jason’s return, as far as I can tell, and Jay’s still on pretty foul terms with the rest of the family.

 archiveofourown.org/works/43206345   Jason Todd did not die as scheduled. Stephanie Brown did. A very angry Robin still clawed their way back from the grave, ready to tear down everything to prove a point. (This is, like, my ideal Red Hood!Steph. She’s furious, she’s brilliant, she’s brutally efficient, she’s shot up like a tree & piled on muscle mass like it’s going out of style, she hit Tim with a brick, and her plan is focused on taking down Black Mask as much or even more than it is taunting the Bats. I mean, if your RH!Steph can’t pick Tim up by the throat single-handed, are you really doing her justice?)

archiveofourown.org/series/322115   Another where Steph died and Jason didn’t. A really interesting exploration of how that might’ve happened, and how certain plots would go differently thanks to both Steph’s actions & how other people would react to her being the one making them, and, of course, what kind of person being the Red Hood would make Steph into. (Fair warning: I have not read the last entry in this one. This verse has a very particular tone it’s hard to put words to, and while I fully trust this author to do justice to how creepy a good Court of Owls arc can be, I just haven’t been in the mood for that blend. Overall, though, while I don’t 100% agree with their interpretation of RH!Steph, this is a damn fine series of fics.)

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I do have a lot of RH!Steph being unhinged in my own Reverse!Robins AU, but considering it’s currently just fractured notes, I can’t really rec it to you. If I ever splice enough of it together into a cohesive narrative & post it anywhere, I promise to let you know.

[szollibisz]

please explain your catholic owen ideas i am interested

Basically I think he was raised in a very proper, fancy religious and wealthy household, but he's always been at odds with his faith.

Catholicism was an important part of his life yes, but the pieces just didn't fit together for him like they did for his parents and sister. Basically he was weird about god ever since he was a kid.

He was always unsettled by the idea of a higher power rather than comforted by it, and growing up in London during ww2 only made it worse. All the bombings and drafts made him question why he should feel eternally thankful for god and guilty for worldly enjoyments when horrible things like war are supposedly an all-good all-knowing god's will who'll feel no remorse for it.

He more and more started resenting his faith, but the fact that he couldn't just cut it out of his life and his subconscious stubborn attachment to it made things even more complicated.

Besides ww2 the other thing that made his faith absolute hell during his teenage years was realising he was gay. Keeping it a secret from everyone he knew was one thing, but completely shutting off that part of himself for a god who has never once answered his prayers was ridiculous to him. (Ofc that doesn't mean that many of his early experiences weren't ruined for him by it)

As he moved away from his family and started training to be a spy™ he engaged with his religion less and less. He likes to think he has completely ripped it out by its roots but that's very much not true.

His mercilessness, fucked up view of relationships, abandonment issues, deep deep seated anger, views on governments and surveillance and of course god complex are all things that in one way or another stem for his religious trauma. And as much as he very strongly resents feeling guilty, he will often find himself wallowing in guilt, which then makes him so mad it quite literally cancels the guilt out.

Sometimes when things get really horrible in life he'll still visit a church to brood or to get so angry he throws up (normal behaviour), even though he swears he's not religious anymore. He very much is, he does believe in god, a very catholic interpretation of him at that, he just thinks he's better than god and therefore he can just try and ignore him.

Anyways yeah i could explain more but I'm very tired so <3

Bear in mind this is not my personal opinion on catholicism or religion in general, this is purely how i think it would affect an already very fucked up fictional character's life ok disclaimer over!

[scriveyner]

oh christmas lights, keep shining on

oh christmas lights, keep shining on | bungou stray dogs | 👿🐯 | ~3400 words

Atsushi turned his head slightly and frowned at the window. He’d caught a flash of movement from the corner of his eye, he thought—but it was dark outside, and the bright festivities behind him were reflected instead—so he was probably just seeing things. Kyouka-chan, however, noticed his distraction. “Is everything alright?”

Continue on ao3 or:

“Yeah,” Atsushi said, and smiled brightly. “I think I’m just tired, it’s getting late.” Kyouka gave him a suspicious look, but Atsushi didn’t give her the chance to press him further, slipping away when Kenji turned to her and asked a question.

What was supposed to be a simple office Christmas party had somehow been hijacked into, ostensibly, a Job™—but Atsushi rather suspected that Dazai-san had played around with his connections in the right configuration to get them, instead, a very nice, very swank party in a penthouse that they would have never been able to afford otherwise.

The “job” portion of the evening had been babysitting some celebrities on a movie press tour that had gotten a threat from an ability user—which mysteriously never materialized—and now their regular security detail had arrived to relieve them of duty, leaving the Agency to it at a party with an open bad and more expensive food than Atsushi had ever seen laid out on a table ripe for the picking.

“I think Dazai phoned in the threat himself,” Ranpo said, perched on a chair with a plate balanced on his knees, stacked high with sweets that seemed to be ignoring all known laws of physics.

“You think, or you know?” Atsushi asked, and Ranpo raised an eyebrow behind his glasses. Atsushi sighed, because, well, Dazai-san. “Kunikida-san isn’t going to be very happy about that.”

“Are you going to tell him? Because I’m not planning on it.” Ranpo swiftly devoured a small piece of cake. He was giving Atsushi that same long, measured look that Kyouka-chan did sometimes, and he hated it because it felt like he was being read like a book. “Is there something wrong, Atsushi-kun?”

“No, why does everyone keep asking me that?” Atsushi looked down at himself. The suit he was wearing for the evening was in one piece and fit him well; he had a drink in his hand, and otherwise couldn’t figure out why he was being subjected to the third degree by every person he talked to. “Do I look like there’s something wrong?”

“You look like you’re on edge,” Naomi said as she plonked herself into their conversation, dragging Tanizaki behind her. “Did something happen with your boyfriend?”

Tanizaki opened his mouth to cut her off but didn’t make it in time, his face comically frozen. Ranpo looked from Naomi to Atsushi, clearly very interested now, and Atsushi stared at Naomi.

“My…my what?”

“Oops,” she delicately covered her mouth with her hand. “Did I say too much? ‘niisan, I think I need another drink!” She swung right around Ranpo, still dragging a completely abashed Tanizaki and headed straight toward the bar. Atsushi watched them go, completely baffled, and then looked at Ranpo.

“My what?” he repeated, weakly, and Ranpo immediately crammed an entire Christmas cookie in his mouth, crunching loudly. “What was she talking about, Ranpo-san?”

Ranpo apologetically pointed to his full mouth and crunched, if possible, louder.

“Atsushi~kyun~!” Dazai’s voice sang threateningly through the crowd, and Atsushi sighed, already distracted and turning in Dazai’s direction. He was on edge, he could admit that much, although he didn’t entirely know why. It was no one’s fault that was present tonight, and it was Christmas, so he should do his best to enjoy the evening and not make trouble for his friends.

“What is it, Dazai-san?” Atsushi asked when he finally located Dazai, seated on the floor, gangly legs sprawled out in front of him and an enormous pout on his face. He’d already been into the open bar, which shouldn’t be an issue because he’d seen Dazai knock out an entire bottle of whiskey without twitching an eyelid, so he was clearly putting on a show for someone’s benefit tonight.

Dazai tugged on his trouser leg. “Mommy-san is being mean,” he said, and gestured to Kunikida, unwinding a noose from the tree proudly displayed as the centerpiece in the room. Atsushi stared at the noose, and then at Dazai, who beamed up at him. After a moment Atsushi sighed again and extracted himself from Dazai’s faux-drunken grip.

“Dazai-san, did you need some water? You’ve drunk quite a bit tonight.” He could play this game.

“Yes, please! An entire bowl big enough for my head, if you can!”

Atsushi went to fetch him a bottle of water from the bar. The party was far from just the Agency, as the celebrities were still here, along with their assorted hangers-on; Atsushi hadn’t paid any of them much mind as they’d been promoting some action movie release and were only now allowed to unwind without press present. That meant that quite a few of them were clustered around said bar, and it took Atsushi longer than he thought to get close enough to obtain water and retreat.

To get back around the crowd he had to go the long way, which took him close to the wall of windows that overlooked the bay. He paused a moment, looking at the bright city lights in his own reflection, twinkling merrily, and his mouth quirked. Something was missing, and, for the life of him, he couldn’t pinpoint what.

Just as he was about to turn away from the window, Akutagawa’s scowling face appeared, upside-down, outside the window.

Atsushi yelped and jumped back into the person behind him; they went over in a flurry of limbs, together.

“Oi!” the guy said as Atsushi scrambled to his feet, stumbling over his apology as he helped his unintended victim up as well. “Watch where you’re going next time!”

“Oh, don’t make a fuss, Gotou-san,” the other guy who helped them both up said. “It was an accident, you’re fine.”

Atsushi bowed again in apology and darted back to the window, but now there was no sign of anyone there on the outside, least of all Akutagawa. Consigning it to nerves, he edged carefully around the group, trying to ignore the stink eye from the person he’d knocked over, and headed for the elevators.

There was no one in the elevator lobby, which was a relief. Atsushi gathered himself, folding his arms and tucking his chin to his chest, taking a few deep breaths to center himself. There was no way Akutagawa was hanging around outside the whatever-eth-story this penthouse was on; he wouldn’t have the first clue where Atsushi was tonight and even if he did, he wouldn’t be performing jump-scares, he’d just come through the window at him to engage like usual.

Okay, maybe not “like usual.” They were capable of existing in the same space without bloodshed these days. Atsushi groaned; the weird feeling in his chest was tightening again, and there was no way he was going back to the party now. He needed some air.

The rooftop access wasn’t locked, which Atsushi felt was a massive security risk of some kind, especially on a building as tall as this one, but it suited his purposes for the moment so he wasn’t actually complaining. He shivered just outside the door, it was cold outside, and he hadn’t noticed when looking out the window, but it was snowing somewhat, the occasional big fat flakes that would coast by on the wind.

A sharp breeze caught his suitcoat and tugged it, and Atsushi shivered again. Okay, that was enough air. He’d head back inside, maybe eat some of that meat he’d been quietly salivating over but trying not to gorge himself on, and they’d leave after the day turned over and he wouldn’t have to think about—

Akutagawa, standing across the roof from him, in the lee of another rooftop access and staring at him silently, Rashomon rippling off his shoulders and tinged in red.

Atsushi stared right back at him, arms folded, and shivering, and said, “don’t tell me you were the called-in threat, because if you are, you’re late.”

Whatever Akutagawa expected to come out of his mouth it clearly was not that. His mouth twisted into a sneer that Atsushi could see from here. “Foolish weretiger,” he sniffed. “I am never late.”

“Are you kidding me?” Atsushi rubbed his nose with his hand, and announced, “I am going back inside. It is way too cold out here to deal with you right now.” He started to turn to do precisely that, when a Rashomon tendril wrapped securely around his waist. “Hey! I am wearing nice clothes, don’t make me—!”

The rest of his sentence was lost into the wind, as suddenly he was flying dizzyingly through the air, flipping around like a ragdoll with Rashomon his only tether. The air was a frigid blast against his face, but he managed to keep his eyes open, watching the building go by sideways, and then another building, and then he lost count because he was spinning around like a carnival ride and couldn’t keep himself oriented until Akutagawa deposited him feet-first on a gravel rooftop several blocks from the building where the party was still going on.

Atsushi swayed in place for about fifteen seconds, then turned and heaved.

“Pathetic,” Akutagawa said, gruffly, absolutely none the worse for wear, and Atsushi crouched and heaved again, but didn’t produce anything because, unlike his coworkers, he had not yet had the chance to pig out at the buffet.

“What,” Atsushi managed when he was done coughing, “the absolute fuck is wrong with you?” Not that he expected an answer from Akutagawa because this was something they’d rehashed at least three times, but still. “I was at work, you know! They’re going to come looking for me!”

“If you had simply responded to your messages in a timely manner I wouldn’t have had to come looking for you.”

He glared at Akutagawa and then pushed off his thighs, straightening. Atsushi felt his pockets, suddenly afraid he lost his phone with the acrobatics, but it was still safely in his trousers. He saw a half-dozen missed messages and a voicemail. “Did you leave me a voicemail?” Atsushi asked, halfway between amazed and afraid, because knowing Akutagawa there were even odds that it was either an annoyed grunt or a twenty-minute-long screed of everything Atsushi had done wrong in the past three months.

He skimmed the messages, and then looked at Akutagawa. “How did you even know where I was?” he asked, paused, and then said, very dangerously, “have you put a tracker on my phone?”

“Of course not,” Akutagawa said. “I am no stalker.”

They stared at each other silently, snow drifting between them, because they both knew that wasn’t true. Finally, Akutagawa admitted, “however, there are some who wish to know Dazai-san’s location at all times.”

He was going to let that one go because a Dazai tracker felt like a dream for a second and he could not allow himself to entertain the thought, but then Akutagawa continued, “and so, I figured you could not be that far behind.”

Okay, ouch. Dazai went off on his own all the time. Atsushi didn’t follow him around like a lost duckling. That much. Anymore. “Well, you found me,” he said, brushing snow off the shoulders of his suitcoat. “What was so important that you had to spam my phone with notifications and then show up when I didn’t respond?”

“It is Christmas Eve.”

“Yeah, for like another hour.” Atsushi finally looked back over to Akutagawa, and he was wearing a curious expression, staring at Atsushi silently, mouth pressed into a flat line. It all hit him suddenly like he’d wandered into the path of a train. “Did you…you wanted to spend Christmas Eve together?" A long, long pause. “With me?”

Akutagawa said, softly, “you are averse to the idea.”

He was dumbfounded, is what he was. “I had no clue.”

“Clearly.” Akutagawa gathered himself, that tension he carried himself with piling on—Atsushi hadn’t even noticed its absence until it returned. “I overstepped.” He turned and began to walk away, and Atsushi watched him start to disappear into the darkness between the rooftop fixtures.

Something seized in his throat, and before he could even think about unwinding it he said, “Akutagawa, wait.”

Akutagawa stopped walking and turned his head slightly to acknowledge he’d heard but didn’t turn around. Atsushi sighed and scruffed his hand through his hair, his other hand on his hip. “I guess-I mean, my evening has freed up, so if you wanted, I suppose we could hang out.”

“Hang out.”

Atsushi shrugged. “What else did you have planned?”

Now he turned entirely around and gave Atsushi a measured look before nodding as if he was satisfied with something. “Fine. Follow me.”

Atsushi shook his head once, both hands on his hips, and followed.

~

This late in the evening, most of the attractions along the street were closed. Atsushi looked up at the brilliant display of lights above the sidewalks as they walked together; the snow having grown even lighter than before, the occasional fat flake hurrying across the path but largely forgotten in the night. Atsushi wasn’t really certain what he was doing, he was probably already missed from the quote-unquote office party, but…whatever it was that had been keeping him on edge all night seemed to have evaporated, so he’d rather not go back to that.

Akutagawa, surprisingly, was not dressed in his usual clothes. Atsushi hadn’t noticed at first, likely due to his sudden travel accommodations vis-à-vis Rashomon, but Akutagawa was dressed in a blazer and a button-down, underneath a nice, heavy dark coat—not the torn and ragged garment Atsushi was most used to seeing him wear.

Atsushi stopped to watch the changing lights in some of the trees, the patterns dancing between branches and over their heads, and Akutagawa stopped as well, remaining patiently by his side. “So, what did you want to do?” Atsushi asked him, and when he looked over, he realized that Akutagawa was intently watching him. It made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. “Most everything is closed at this point, isn’t it?”

“I am enjoying looking at the lights with you.”

Oh. Atsushi hadn’t realized that was what they were doing. He wished suddenly for a scarf to touch his nose into because he was pretty sure he just blushed and didn’t like that one bit. He instead folded his arms and shivered again. “Maybe we should look for some light displays that might be indoors,” he suggested since he didn’t have a coat and he was cold, dammit.

Akutagawa inclined his head and then stepped closer. Before Atsushi could think to defend himself, Akutagawa hooked his arm through Atsushi’s and drew him into step—and then, suddenly, Atsushi felt warmth cascade down his shoulders and back. He startled and meant to draw back, but Akutagawa’s arm kept him in place. “Keep still,” Akutagawa ordered sharply, and Atsushi did, eyes wide, as Akutagawa concentrated.

He didn’t release Atsushi, but after a moment the weight of it lifted but the warmth remained, and Atsushi stared at Akutagawa. “Rashomon will keep us both warm,” Akutagawa said, and Atsushi looked down at the shimmering-red glow that lined the black cloak that Akutagawa had wrapped around them both.

“…okay,” Atsushi said weakly because what else was he supposed to say at this point? His head spun as they resumed walking, arm in arm now, underneath the trees drenched in light. He didn’t understand. He didn’t. What was going on here?”

“Akutagawa,” Atsushi said. “What is…what are we doing, right now? What is this?” He swallowed, suddenly remembering Naomi’s words. “Is this a…?” He couldn’t finish his thought.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to. Akutagawa didn’t look at him. “Weretiger,” he said, and his voice was soft but tight. “Please allow me this, tonight. We can be whatever you want us to be tomorrow, but…allow me this, tonight.”

Atsushi swallowed again, hard, but didn’t reply.

He thought Akutagawa’s arm would be cold, but where their elbows were linked, he was warm. He couldn’t think of a time they’d touched that hadn’t immediately led to actual bloodshed, and this…was nice. He could pretend for the moment that they weren’t mortal enemies. That maybe, they were friends.

There was an enormous Christmas tree in the warehouse district plaza; and even if the market was already shut down for the night it remained brilliantly lit. There were a few people around, coming and going, but hardly anyone lingered to enjoy it. Keeping his eyes on the tree, Atsushi squeezed Akutagawa’s arm and said, “I’m hungry. Think we could maybe find someplace still open?”

He was careful not to look at Akutagawa when he spoke, but Akutagawa’s voice sounded warm, for once. “I am certain that something can be arranged.”

~

The restaurant was far nicer than Atsushi expected; decorated fully for the holiday. He would have been content with a hole-in-the-wall izakaya, or even cart ramen, despite the cold—but Akutagawa steered them here, walking through the door with the confidence that they belonged there, and they were shown to a table with a view of the live music; a pianist playing slow and recognizable holiday music. The lights were low, letting the twinkling holiday decorations take center stage, and there was a lit candle in the center of every table.

“You planned this,” Atsushi accused and didn’t know what to feel about it. Akutagawa raised an eyebrow but took his menu from him and ordered for them both before Atsushi could even open his mouth to protest. “Akutagawa,” he said, aghast when the waiter returned with wine, and he ordered steak.

 “Indulge me,” Akutagawa said, eyes dark in the dim light, and Atsushi fiddled with the wine glass before sighing and relenting.

The wine made him warm and relaxed, and then the food came and that was all he thought about for a while. The pianist went on break and the chatter of the other patrons filled the empty space where the music had been before; when Atsushi looked up Akutagawa was watching him again, the corner of his mouth upturned into something like a smile.

The expression made him feel warm, like the wine, so he buried that thought in the bottom of the glass.

They walked again, arm in arm, Rashomon over their shoulders like a cloak—but this time it didn’t feel as awkward. It was comfortable beside Akutagawa, and maybe they were a little closer than arm in arm, Atsushi leaned comfortably against his side. A clock chimed, somewhere, and he realized they’d lost an hour easily while they were eating when it rang only a single chime. “Ah,” Atsushi said, surprised. “It’s Christmas.”

“So it is, weretiger.” They were nearing the building where the office party was. Atsushi’s gut twisted; he didn’t want this moment to end. “And I must—”

Atsushi wasn’t sure what Akutagawa was going to say, but it turned it out it didn’t really matter. He turned, their arms still linked, put his free hand on Akutagawa's face, and kissed him.

“Thank you for the meal,” Atsushi said. “Merry Christmas, Akutagawa.”

~

And where have you been?” Kunikida said as Atsushi slunk through the lobby, cheeks rushed a rosy red by the cold. “I could have used your assistance wrangling Dazai, thank goodness none of those windows actually open…”

Atsushi rubbed the back of his hand over his nose, distracted. “Ah, sorry, Kunikida-san,” he said, and wandered past. “I had a date.”

Kunikida watched him drift away and frowned. “A date…?” he repeated and looked over at Yosano, still sitting at the bar, heels on the floor and bare feet resting on the metal rail that ran the length of the bar.

“Oh, leave him alone, Kunikida,” Yosano said. “It’s Christmas. Have a drink with me.”

Somewhere outside, lost in the darkness, Akutagawa stared up at the building that Atsushi had vanished into. It started to snow again, and he coughed wetly, before touching his fingers to his lips. Then he sighed, tucking his hands into his pockets, the edge of a smile turning up the corner of his mouth as he turned and vanished into the night.