#really interesting things to think about though!

[adeptune01]

I have to resurrect my tumblr from the dead for my thoughts on the new Superman movie:

THIS WAS AN AMAZING MOVIE. THAT WAS SUPERMAN.

He’s corny, he’s midwestern, he’s a nerd and everyone kind of bullies him for it. He says things like “what the hay dude” or “I’m punk rock- I’m totally punk” completely seriously. He takes several extra precious seconds to save a squirrel. He’s ready to fly headfirst into danger to save his dog because the dog’s probably “scared and all alone” even though it’s not a particularly good dog all the time. He loves his parents. He has bad band posters hanging in his childhood bedroom. He takes the time to calm a lady on a rooftop in the middle of a fight. He cares. 

As for the actual plot- it’s really difficult to make a Superman movie feel high stakes, especially while trying to keep it real. In the comics Superman gets into situations it would be nearly impossible to show on screen, like fighting in front of a black hole, but somehow this movie makes it work. James Gunn tapped into his experience making Guardians of the Galaxy and it shows in the best way possible. You find yourself wondering how in the world Superman is going to win- and that’s what makes this such an amazing superhero movie.

Superman’s true weakness isn’t kryptonite, it’s thinking and planning ahead. All the villains that beat him in the comics match his brawn, but have the brains to get an edge and have better fight strategy. All superman knows is that “people were going to die” and since he’s such an unbelievably GOOD guy, that’s all that matters to him. We saw it when the “justice gang” was helping him fight the alien monster and we saw it in Louis’s interview. When you have a superhero with barely any weaknesses, you need something more than the threat of losing a fight to make him interesting. 

Now for Lex- no notes. He was brilliantly written. It can be difficult to take his character seriously, but that speech at the end where he was screaming to be recognized because, to him, humanity’s ability to overcome odds and achieve through innovation is critical and Superman’s existence risks overshadowing that? That was deadly serious. 

Last serious note- I’m glad they kept it political. The United States government being scared of an alien and the threat of invasion despite the fact that Superman has done nothing but help them? A billionaire approaching the government to encourage foreign intervention because it will allow him to profit? A foreign power that the U.S. is officially allied to even though everyone knows they’ve committed horrible war crimes but nobody actually KNOWS that and the smaller neighbor they’re threatening to wipe out in order to “free” them from an oppressive regime? Superman declaring that he’s just like everyone else, that he’s human too and that’s his greatest strength? The idea of radical love? Yeah. 

FINAL NOTE: I think that a scene from this movie sums up what I got from it very well. It’s when Louis is talking about how Clark isn’t punk rock. She says that he trusts everyone he’s ever met and he thinks that everyone is beautiful. And he responds: “maybe that’s punk rock.” He’s right. It is. And that’s Superman. 

Anyways…good movie. Go watch it.

[fairestwriting]

this is corny so you don’t have to answer the req if you don’t want to, how do u think dorm leaders would react if the only girl in night raven college ended up in their dorm?

𐙚 Riddle Rosehearts

Well, he's definitely not spoken to a lot of girls around his age range... if he's even spoken to any of them at all. That's the main obstacle, in Riddle's case. He just feels like he doesn't know how he should talk to you.

He does have enough common sense to know he shouldn't treat you differently because of your gender. Obviously. So he's not going easier on you with the rules or anything like that— he'll still scold as harshly as he'd scold any rule breaking guy...

...That's what he tells himself, at least. In practice, it's still true, but he can't help but second guess if what he's doing is really okay, at least while he's still getting used to you.

Luckily, Heartslabyul students are, in general, pretty sociable people, so you actually manage to get along with your dormmates rather quickly. It's just Riddle that trips on his words every now and then.

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

Honestly, he's not thrilled about it. But it has nothing to do with you personally, and everything to do with how he just knows some of the guys in the dorm might get a little too excited about it, and he'll have to actually put effort into making sure they behave.

It's not like they're creepy or disrespectful or anything. Even your most obnoxious dormmates will, at most, just be really awkward around you — It's just the right thing, in Leona's mind, to avoid having you end up in these weird situations.

With the large amount of beastmen in the dorm, though, it's more likely that they'd get too nervous to even do that. They don't play around when it comes to respecting women. If anyone even dared to think about going against that, they'd be very, very quickly outcast.

But besides that, you're just another member of the dorm, to him. He'll at most complain about the dorm getting attention just because there's a girl in it and nothing more. You're still getting the "Herbivore" nickname if he finds it applicable.

𐙚 Azul Ashengrotto

You don't see any of it, but he's ripping out his hair over the whole thing. And it honestly doesn't even have anything to do with you — It's just that it's all so sudden? Your acceptance into NRC, and into Octavinelle, will definitely attract some attention, and he wasn't given any time to prepare for it...

He definitely does his best to make it look like he wasn't taken completely off guard, though. You're welcomed into Octavinelle with a big smile from him, telling you how honored he is to have you in the dorm— And it's not a lie, really, he is glad to have you, he's just stressed out.

Azul is fairly decent at helping you get settled into the dorm, despite that. He'll ask for your thoughts on the room sharing situation on your very first day, and make sure you come to an agreement on the matter as soon as possible.

𐙚 Kalim Al-Asim

Honestly really happy to have you. NRC turning co-ed is a big deal, after all! It means a lot that his dorm gets to be the one to house the first girl to attend the school.

Kalim was planning to have a big welcoming party at the start of the school year anyway, but since it seems it'll be an extra special one, he'll change his plans accordingly. He might end up going a bit overboard, but it's better to do too much than too little, right?

After the initial fanfare, though, he'll also default to treating you like any other Scarabia student. Which doesn't mean he's any less friendly or warm, it's just that he shows the same amount of interest towards any new student.

He worries a little about you feeling out of a place, though. He's heard from the girls he knows that it can be lonely to be in a space that's all guys, and he doesn't want you to feel othered like that! Maybe he'll talk to Crowley about letting more girls transfer, or something. Or at least introduce you to his other friends, if you want.

𐙚 Vil Schoenheit

Honestly, he's a little stressed out. Mostly for the same reason that would make Kalim so happy and proud — NRC turning co-ed is a big deal, his dorm is the first one to house a female student, expectations are higher than usual.

He lectures the other students on what not to do on the first day, and personally talks to you to ask if there's anything you'd like to be done to the dorm to make you more comfortable. He's mostly thinking about things like whether you'd prefer to not have roommates and such, but he's pretty open to any request as long as it's reasonable.

Honestly, Pomefiore might objectively be the best dorm to end up in, in this case. The push for students to be open minded and respectful is real. Anyone who's too biased and unwilling to change just gets filtered out.

𐙚 Idia Shroud

People start whispering about it the second the news come out —Ignihyde is like a lair for awkward people, their leader himself barely attends class in person. Having the first female student of NRC join in surely will make everyone there lose their minds, right?

And, yeah, people do get anxious, sure. But Ignihyde's image as this safe haven for the socially awkward also means, to their members, that they can be at ease around each other. And you are one of them now, so...

You don't really talk to Idia directly, but that's just because nobody does. He sends Ortho to ask you if you'd like a room to yourself, or anything else, really— He avoids mentioning anything specific because he doesn't want to sound weird, but he'll make sure you have whatever you need.

Your dormmates warm up to you pretty fast too. They're shy, and a good amount of them probably never really talks to any girls, but you're still one of them, above everything else. Gender doesn't matter as much after the initial feeling of surprise is gone.

𐙚 Malleus Draconia

Malleus isn't that stressed out about it, honestly. He knows it's a big deal for the school as a whole, but to him, it's just something that should have been done a long time ago. It's not like restricting student genders was helping anybody learn magic.

He's a bit puzzled when Lilia asks him about possibly taking measures to make you feel more comfortable. He has no issue with taking them, of course, he just doesn't think about them right away? It won't occur to him that you might prefer having a room to yourself, for example.

Because of Diasomnia's reputation, you're sort of shielded from most unwanted attention from the rest of the school, and your dormmates themselves are pretty much all polite people who keep to themselves. It's very peaceful in there, really.

Overall it's just not a big deal to Malleus himself. He'll be curious about how you feel being the only girl in the school, sometimes, but he won't ask unless you haven't shown interest in speaking to him first.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[imjunebitch]

Hi. My name is Lili, I'm also a trans woman. I'm reaching out in good faith because I really really fear you might be heading down a dangerous ideological path by being a trans woman that gives credence to the term 'transandrophobia'

I'm not sure how I could truly convey that you are aligning yourself with terfs and other reactionaries, and these people will toss you in the trash the moment you stop being a useful dancing pony for them. These people will demand that you hate yourself for being a trans woman, they will demand that you agree with them when other trans women are harassed and unpersoned. They will demand that you make yourself small, and it may take years for the psychological toll to fully unravel for you.

Frankly, I was going to just block you, and move on, but you're Miku pfp demanded that I at least try to warn you. Miku is transfeminist, and it's a bit concerning to see someone sporting Her as a pfp and not realize that.

I'll quit rambling, and tbh, I hope I'm wrong. I hope that you are never subjected to the things I described. I would like to be proven wrong about all of them.

be careful though, maybe my message today will make more sense as time goes on.

hi! ill start with the single kind thing i think I can possibly say to u! I was kinda miffed by those condescending anonymous asks, and I'm incredibly grateful that this ask, while condescending, is not anonymous! and thanks for that! shows u have a little conviction, even tho u are wrong.

ill just address your "points" in order. probably easier to read.

yes, okay, im a trans girl. yes I think transandrophobia exists or I "lend credence" to the idea or whatever. this is ideology to u? that's interesting. my acknowledgement is less based in any specific theory or ideology, admittedly, and more in observing the world and the people around me. for example, I am close friends, both irl, and online, with quite a few transmascs and men. i can see, with my eyes, the way they are treated. and do you know what I've seen? its every single bit as fucking bad as the way trans women and fems are treated, jerk! and on top of that now they have to worry about attacks from within their own community? from assholes like you? Jesus Christ you people are insufferable!!! i fucking love transmascs! as friends, allies, found family, and a boyfriend now, somehow, im super lucky, and I can fucking see the way they are demonized inside and outside of the queer community. treated as men only when it can be a justification for hurting them and treated as stupid and misguided otherwise. it makes my blood boil knowing that they are subject to this mistreatment, and that people like u don't care. that u sit around and discuss your intersexist exclusionary theories and sneer at your closest allies. that u spend the time writing this ask out to warn me, a non-passing tgirl, of the dangers of the scaaary trans men as if u wouldn't see me as a man if u saw me on the street and didn't know anyway. knowing that u look down on my wonderful and sweet partners for the crime of not presenting the way u do, and not experiencing your exact experience. it DISGUSTS me. YOU disgust me.

i think we're doing good work here! point two!

oh it looks like the second point is just "Jesus Christ how fucking dare u." huh. genuinely tho, how dare u? how dare u act like trans men wanting a term to discuss their own oppression is in any way anything like a TERF? ur the fucking TRF my friend. toss me in the trash? dancing pony? tf are u on about? do u understand that I am not doing this for approval? im doing this bc I think it's right to stand up for people I love and just to be good to people in general! how fucking dare u act like ive been fucking brainwashed by transmascs into showing men the common courtesy u show human beings! the people i talk to now, which includes a fair amount of trans women actually, shithead, are incredibly accepting of me, bc, unlike u, they aren't prejudiced against a massive chunk of trans ppl for existing! they actually respect them! are there bad people on my side of "transandrophobia discourse?" sure! fine! but dawg, your side has fucking soup-mother. your side has plaidos. your side is fine with calling nonbinary people slurs that originated on four chan. your side quashes gnc and intersex transfems voices. your side uses a terminology that inherently acts like intersex people are acceptable collateral damage to ensure that ur oppression is the source of all other oppression in ur own mind. your side is, actually not only far less accepting of transmascs, but it is horrifyingly willing to mistreat transfems. the singular thing u pretend to care about.

and also my personal beliefs used to be closer to yours, back when I was far more stupid and self involved. i fucking got over myself. I had just figured out I was trans. i was lonely and scared and also seventeen, altho I'm only eighteen now. and it still took me less than a week to realize the horseshit ppl like u pedal is horseshit. the fuck's ur excuse?

PLEASE just block me Jesus Christ. i agree. Miku is a transfeminist. as am i. Miku loves trans people. i do as well. i don't think u do. i think u love urself, and the people ur willing to relate to. i think u won't extend compassion beyond that which u can relate to and I think that's a vile disturbing and bigoted way of looking at the world. block me. i hope someday that u become a better person so the person u are now fills u with shame and remorse. and I hope u stay the fuck away from trans men and mascs, altho they're used to being mistreated by other trans ppl now, thanks to shitheads like u. i certainly hope u stay the FUCK away from recently out trans women bc ur poison ideology is most likely to hurt them.

[dissociativewriter]

Crow Family- Earned Title

Young Luke and Kieran AU, Sylus x nonMC!Reader | fem reader, not proofread | 787 words | Crow Family Masterlist

author’s note: HEAVY cute aggression in this one yall (the twins are so cute i need to adopt them and smother them in hugs and kisses omg), this is very cute and fluffy and sappy

requests open for crow family shenanigans!

Bedtime at the Qin household was never easy, Sylus had warned you.

“I really hate to leave you alone with them for the night,” he explained apologetically. “I wouldn’t ask this of you if it wasn’t an emergency.”

You waved him off. “It’s no problem. I love spending time with them!”

“I know you do. They love spending time with you, too.” Sylus smiled.

It faded, though, as his brow drew together. “Remember, they do have a knack for disappearing, so try to keep an eye on them. Last time I lost them, Luke apparently jumped off the banister,” he sighed, flinching as he recounted the memory as if it hurt him. “And Luke likes the crust off his bread. Kieran says it’s fine, but he really doesn’t like the crust either. Oh, and! Kieran is probably going to ask you for a glass of warm milk before bed. He saw someone in a children’s book do it and… now he thinks it’s what people do.” Sylus shrugged helplessly before continuing with a serious tone. “Do not give it to him. He’ll be very hard to resist, he’ll give you puppy dog eyes and everything, but you have to stay strong! The milk upsets his stomach. If they ask you to—”

“Sylus!” you laughed, putting a hand on his arm. “You worry too much. The twins will be safe with me, I promise.”

His shoulders dropped as all his tension eased. “I know. I trust you, I do, it’s just…” A deep breath. “This is my first time leaving them with someone else. I’m a bit scared, to be honest,” he whispered.

You softened at his quiet admission. “That’s why you’re such a good dad to them,” you murmured. His gaze snapped to yours, a faint pink tinging his cheeks.

You furrowed your brow for a moment before huffing out a laugh. “Luke, Kieran, you can come out now.”

The twins shuffled out from behind the couch, heads down in shame. “How’d you know we were there?” Luke whined.

“I’m fine with the crusts,” Kieran muttered.

“No, you’re not! You hate them, too!” Luke accused.

“They’re fine! I’m not a baby anymore, I can handle the crusts,” he said.

“Are you calling me a baby?” Luke cried.

“I’m not the one that asks Sylus to cut the crusts off every time I want some bread!”

“Shush.” You shook your head. “Say goodbye to Sylus, then we’ll get some dinner.”

“Bye, Sylus!” Luke grinned.

“Be safe! I love you!” Kieran hugged his leg.

“Wait, I love you, too, Sylus!” Luke grabbed ahold of his other leg.

Sylus chuckled, patting both their heads. “I love you both. I’ll be there when you wake up.” Sylus leaned down, pressing a kiss to their foreheads.

The night with the twins passed about as you expected. You had to pull Luke off the banister twice, be the seeker in a game of hide and seek (which you lost), and deny Kieran some warm milk before bed (which was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do).

Now, you were sat on the edge of Luke’s bed, tucking in the blankets as they both sleepily chatted about what they would do tomorrow. “Can’t we watch a movie tonight?” Luke asked.

“No, you both need to get some sleep,” you said firmly.

“I’m not tired!” Kieran grumbled.

You stared at him blankly. “You’re yawning and you can barely keep your eyes open.”

Luke sank back into his pillow in tandem with Kieran. “Can’t we at least wait for Papa to come home?” he asked slowly.

“Papa…?” you repeated.

“I want to see Papa,” Kieran agreed. “Papa… Sylus…”

You couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto your lips.

As it was nearing 10:30, Sylus came through the door, crimson eyes immediately finding yours where you were dozing off on the couch.

“How were they?” he asked.

“No casualties.” You shrugged.

Sylus breathed a sigh of relief.

“Something interesting happened…” you began, fighting off your smile as you walked towards him.

He stiffened instantly. “What happened?”

“They called you Papa,” you said softly.

Sylus was quiet for a moment, the words settling over him. “…they did?” he finally asked, voice hoarse.

You nodded. “Right before they fell asleep, they were asking for Papa.”

Sylus’s bottom lip quivered. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, turning away from you. “I need a moment.”

You put your hand on his trembling shoulder. “You are their father, you know.” You gave a small smile. “You take care of them, protect them, love them. And they love you, too,” you said simply.

Sylus looked back at you, eyes glossy. “They really are my boys,” he murmured. “My little crows.”

comments and reblogs appreciated and asks open! <3

masterlist

taglist (25/50): @dolledbunnytail @sleepykittyenergy @orbitraiden @coffeedragonhobbyist @plzdonutpercieveme @sylusgworl @webshooterrr9 @animegamerfox @nezuswritingdesk @glitterykingdomangel @simpingpandas @silver--47 @sleepisfortheweakpooh @blessdunrest @novthirty @reyreyrah @younghearts-freespirits @lighting-and-shadow @travination @booklover99988755421 @saybeyonce @pdacex @stxrrielle @hargun-s @jcrml

[bruisedboys]

Maybe like squid game players reactions to you getting closer with another player or something and they get jellyyy 😝😝😝

── SQUID GAME MEN when they’re jealous ★ dae-ho + myung-gi

kang dae-ho x fem!reader, lee myung-gi x fem!reader. part 1 with thanos and nam-gyu here <3

2.3k words

★ KANG DAE-HO, player 388

Dae-ho swears he’s not jealous.

Well, maybe a little bit. It’s not that he wants to be jealous. Actually, he sort of hates himself for being so jealous over such a small thing. He trusts you, of course, and knows you’d never do anything to hurt him. Still, he can’t help the jealousy that’s been building in his chest over the past few days.

You appear to be getting quite close with Young-il, ever since you and Dae-ho joined Gi-hun’s team. At first, Dae-ho had no problem with it. Young-il seemed nice enough, and Dae-ho appreciated that he was looking out for you, because it meant Dae-ho could worry about you a little less with more people watching your back.

He’d been fine with it, that is until Young-il started talking to you more often, and stealing you away from Dae-ho more often. He seems almost suspiciously interested in you, and at this point Dae-ho is half convinced Young-il is doing it on purpose to rile Dae-ho up, though he can’t imagine why.

Dae-ho watches you moodily, the elation from surviving another game replaced by jealousy as he sees Young-il sling an arm across your shoulders. The older man jostles you into him, saying something about how, “you did so well in there, Y/N.”

Dae-ho clenches his fist. It’s supposed to be his job to tell you when you do well in a game. Young-il had been practically glued to your side during this particular game, so much so that Dae-ho found it difficult to keep an eye on you.

Dae-ho waits until Young-il isn’t around to talk to you about it, and that’s not until lights out, when it’s finally just you and Dae-ho, squeezed into one bunk.

“Y/N,” he says into the quiet. You’re tucked into his side, your head on his chest. He’s got his fingers in your hair, stroking through the loose strands.

You hum. “Yeah?”

Dae-ho swallows. He wonders if he’s being stupid — maybe it’s nothing. Maybe he’s being dramatic, and Young-il is just naturally friendly, naturally protective. Still, Dae-ho can’t help but feel that it’s his job to look after you. He wants to be the one to protect you, and make you laugh, and tell you he’s proud of you.

You must notice Dae-ho’s silence, because you sit up, leaning your weight on one hand and looking down at him.

“What is it?” You ask, concern etched into your pretty face. “Are you okay?”

Dae-ho sits up. He suddenly feels really nervous to bring it up. He doesn’t want you to know how jealous he is.

“Is there… is there something going on between you and Young-il?”

You just sit there and blink at him, while he sits feeling foolish. Then, you shake your head.

“No,” you say, frowning. “What do you mean?”

Dae-ho cringes. He’d hoped he wouldn’t have to explain himself — that only makes it more embarrassing.

“I… I’ve just noticed you’re getting quite close with him,” Dae-ho explains. “He’s sort of protective of you, isn’t he?”

You give him a funny look. “And you’re not?”

“I’m your boyfriend, Y/N,” Dae-ho says. “He’s … well, you barely know him.”

You sit there quietly for a long moment. Dae-ho’s heart pumps in his chest. He’s embarrassed, but he’s not sorry to have bought it up. Thinking about it now, it is sort of weird how interested Young-il seems to be in you.

“I didn’t really notice,” you say, after a long pause.

“You didn’t?”

You shake your head. “No. But, now that you’ve bought it up, it is a bit strange.”

Dae-ho nods vehemently. “Right? He’s always standing so close to you,” he blurts out, relieved at having you agree with him. “Like today during the game, he wouldn’t leave your side. And he kept asking if you were alright. I thought it was my job to—“

He stops short at the look on your face. A grin tugs at your mouth, and your eyebrows have raised higher and higher the more he talks.

Dae-ho pauses. “What?” He asks.

Your grin widens. “Nothing,” you say, your voice a notch too high. “Are you jealous?”

Dae-ho shuts his mouth abruptly. He shakes his head. “No,” he murmurs.

Your eyebrows lift higher. “Are you sure? You sounded jealous, baby.”

Dae-ho blushes all over his face, the tips of his ears burning. “I’m not jealous,” he mumbles, even though he totally is.

You get this wicked grin on your face.

“Oh?” You muse. “So, you’re okay if I keep spending time with Young-il, then?”

Dae-ho goes still all over. “Um. Yeah?” He nods, lying through his teeth.

If he had it his way, you wouldn’t go near Young-il ever again. But he’s too embarrassed to admit it.

You giggle then, the sound tumbling out of your mouth as you grin at him.

“Aw, baby,” you croon, and you press your palm to his chest. “Have I been torturing you without knowing?”

Dae-ho wants to say yes, you have been. But really, it’s not your fault at all. He just shakes his head.

“No,” he says firmly, and at the look on your face, “I mean, a little bit,” he admits.

You pout at him, looking up at him from under your lashes. “I’m sorry,” you say softly. “I didn’t know.”

You push your hand up his chest to hold the side of his neck, and Dae-ho almost forgets about the whole thing altogether. When you stroke your thumb over the hollow in his throat, he tries not to breathe too loud.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Dae-ho says, his voice a bit strained from your touching.

“If you don’t want me to hang around him anymore, I won’t,” you say quietly.

Dae-ho blinks down at you. You look so pretty like this, your eyes drenched in apology and your hand stroking his neck. He suddenly decides it was perfectly rational to be jealous over Young-il. Who wouldn’t, when their girl looks like you?

“Please don’t,” Dae-ho blurts, the words tumbling from him under the influence of your soft gaze. “He… makes me really jealous.”

You smile at him, graciously ignoring how insecure he sounds.

“Okay,” you say, nodding. “I’ll stay away from him from now on.”

Warm relief floods Dae-ho’s chest. He hadn’t realised just how worked up he’d gotten, and finally admitting it to you has made such a huge difference he’s sorry he didn’t do it earlier.

“Sorry I didn’t notice earlier,” you say.

Dae-ho shakes his head. “I already told you there’s nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart.

You smile one of your soft smiles, and curve your hand around the back of his neck, leaning in. Dae-ho holds his breath as you get closer, his eyelids fluttering shut as you press your mouth to his.

It’s a soft kiss, and much too short for Dae-ho’s liking. He curves an arm around your waist as you pull away.

“You know, you have nothing to be jealous about,” you murmur, your mouth less than an inch from his. Dae-ho’s heart thunders in his chest. You push your fingers into his hair and his breath catches. “I’m all yours.”

★ LEE MYUNG-GI, player 333

Myung-gi watches you from across the room, feeling all sorts of awful feelings. Bitter, for one. Self loathing, for another. But mostly, he just feels jealous.

He still can’t believe you ended up in here. The reason he landed himself here in the first place was for you, after all. The fact that you’re here too just makes him feel stupid.

So far, he hasn’t been able to protect you like he wants to. You hate him — and you’ve got every reason to. You lost all your money because of him, and now you’ve wound up in the middle of these death games, surrounded by lunatics who are willing to kill each other for the prize.

You seem to have found a team to join, whereas Myung-gi has been going at it alone since the beginning. He tried to help you, but you wouldn’t listen. Now he watches you with your team, talking and laughing, that pretty smile he knows so well lighting up your face, and he feels sick with jealousy.

Myung-gi’s stomach twists as he watches you laugh some more with the younger guy on your team. It’s Myung-gi’s last straw. He’s on his feet before he realises what he’s doing, marching over to you with all the fake confidence he can muster.

You glance at him as he approaches, but you don’t acknowledge him. You just continue to talk with your teammate — Player 388, Myung-gi reads — until Myung-gi is practically breathing down your back.

“Y/N,” he says.

When you turn your head to look at him, your face is unreadable. “Yes?”

Player 388 looks between you and Myung-gi curiously. Myung-gi doesn’t like the look on his face, almost like he’s about to protect you.

Myung-gi ignores the other man and addresses you. “Can I talk to you?”

You raise your eyebrows. “About?”

Myung-gi rolls his eyes. He knows you’re being difficult on purpose. You act like this whenever you’re mad at him, pretending to be oblivious to the problem at hand.

“About us,” Myung-gi says. He grabs your arm and starts to pull you away, “C’mon, let’s go and talk somewhere private.”

Myung-gi makes it about one step before your friend, Player 388, stops him.

“Hey, man,” he says, eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t force her.”

Myung-gi curses under his breath, dropping your arm. “I’m her boyfriend, you—”

“Myung-gi.” You step in between the two men before Myung-gi can do anything, pressing your hand to his chest and giving him a sharp look. “Don’t.”

Myung-gi only restrains himself for your sake, though it gets much more difficult when you glance over your shoulder at 388.

“It’s okay, Dae-ho,” you say softly. “Don’t worry about me.”

Dae-ho nods and steps back, though the worry lingers in his eyes. You grab Myung-gi’s arm and tug him away. Half of Myung-gi wants to go back and punch your friend in the face, but the other half is glad he’s finally stolen you away.

You lead him into an empty nook between the bunks, away from the other players in the room. Then you whirl on him, your hands poised on your hips, looking alarmingly like his mother.

“What do you want?” You demand.

“Is there something going on between you and him?” Myung-gi demands back.

“Who, Dae-ho?” You ask. “We’re friends, if that’s what you mean.”

“This is not really the kind of place you make friends, Y/N. You didn’t tell him about us?”

You huff. “What’s there to tell?” You ask scathingly.

Myung-gi looks at you in disbelief. “I’m your boyfriend.”

“You scammed me.”

“Not on purpose!”

You roll your eyes and sigh, long and loud.

“Is that what you wanted to talk about?” You ask, sardonic. “You’re jealous?”

Myung-gi scoffs, but he can’t lie and say he isn’t. You just look at him, and then you must decide he’s not worth your time, because you start to push past him.

“I’m gonna—”

“Y/N.” Myung-gi stops you with a hand around your wrist. He meets your eyes and tries to convey how he feels in his own. Not just jealous, but scared. Scared for you, and desperate to protect you.

You struggle in his grip, “What are you—?”

“I just want to talk,” Myung-gi interrupts. “When I’m done, you can leave. If you want.”

You sigh, but you don’t make any more moves to leave. Myung-gi takes that as his sign to start talking.

“Listen,” he says slowly. “I’m just trying to help because I want you to make it out of here alive. I want you to stick with me. If you don’t survive this, and I do, I’d have nothing. I don’t care about the money, Y/N. What’ll it matter if you’re dead? I don’t want to live if it’s not with you.”

You just look at him for a few long moments. He hadn’t planned to say any of that, it’d sort of just slipped out in the heat of the moment. But he’s not gonna take it back any time soon. He means every word, and he hopes you realise that.

You sigh. “You’re awful,” you say. “Do you know how corny you sounded just now?”

Myung-gi shrugs. “I meant it.”

You stare at him. Myung-gi can practically see the wheels turning in your head. Then, you sigh.

“Okay,” you say finally.

Is that all? Myung-gi thinks. After he just bore his soul to you.

“Okay what?” He asks.

“Okay, I’ll give you what you want,” you say simply. “I’ll stick with you from now on.”

Myung-gi honestly hadn’t expected you to give in that easily. You’ve been so stubborn this whole time, and he’d prepared himself to do a lot more convincing.

“Really?” He asks, unconvinced.

You nod. “Really,” you repeat.

The twisting, burning jealousy that’s made its home in Myung-gi’s chest over the past few days evaporates, replaced with a sort of aching fondness for you, as if his heart is reaching out through his ribcage.

“I thought you’d take more convincing,” he says honestly.

You scoff. “Don’t let it get to your head, Myung-gi, but if you must know, I have been missing you quite a bit.”

Myung-gi blinks in surprise. He opens his mouth to say something smart, but stops short at the look on your face.

“I’ve been missing you too,” he says instead.

You nod, satisfied, and let him wrap you up in his arms, pulling you into his chest. It hits him, then, that he really has missed you, despite being pissed at you for avoiding him so much. And everything he said was true, he doesn’t think he could live without you if you didn’t survive the games.

You push your arms around his waist and tilt your head up to look at him, your chin resting on his chest.

“It helps that you’re really hot when you’re jealous,” you say, grinning all over your face.

Myung-gi rolls his eyes. “You’re impossible,” he says, but he can’t keep the grin off his own face.

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed ᡣ𐭩

[linkcharacter]

I've never done an art breakdown with my own art, so I wanted to try to put the ideas into words and also some (a bunch of) related ramblings. There isn't a lot of details in this piece specifically but I have thoughts about it.

Talking about the idea first, I wanted to imitate the posters Anya has on her corkboard combined with something you'd see on a product package like the item packets.

Anya herself in the illustration is meant to appear plastic-y and flat so I though the lineless graphic style fits. I added highlights and kept textures and details to a minimum, her pose is intended to feel performative and stiff, like a plastic doll. I tried to make her look more mascot-like. And she's holding the Psych Eval sheet.

"WE ARE HERE FOR YOU" is the poster that hangs on Anya's corkboard. In itself it's a questionable choice to hang it in a medical room due to the design's colors being Black and Red. Red is not a recommended color for any hospital setting. Black in abundance is menacing. It all can stress out patients and this one is a bright red on a purely black background which immediately looks sinister and threatening so honestly, any other color choice would've been better. The text reads to me as a showing of how the medical staff are treated as property of PE for workers which comprise the other crew members. "WE" speaking impersonally as if the nurses are a collective that is serving you never as an Individual who takes care of you, because they are only a service that is provided, never a human being. Nurses are always thought of as something FOR someone and never for themselves, the nurses are only here because of the need to have healthcare for the crew in space. I just think it's interesting how the medical staff have their own PE informational poster addressing the other crew as if the nurses are singled out and align closer to PE than other roles.

Also, Anya in my eyes, pinned the poster thinking it's something to put up trying to be approachable by pinning something positive she associates with her job, but it ends up coming off as feeding into the corporate facade which dehumanizes her and also looks fucking ugly and doesn't help with the patients' stress. Anya girl please rip that thing off I'm begging-

I tried to incorporate the black background into the art but it wasn't working out and ended up looking ugly so I scrapped it in favor of cohesiveness. I just wanted to talk about that fucking poster mb.

The small text is the Positive Affirmations Anya has on her corkboard. Positive affirmations can be a comfort that will lift your mood, give you assurance but when repeated over and over they tend to lose meaning. They turn into empty words that never dig deeper into the issues a person is having but merely plastering optimism and positivity on top. Especially if it's not accompanied by some pretty illustration of a flower and just written out with punctuation in a row, the statements really start to blend together and become nagging phrases. At least that's what my thought process was.

All of this label text is taken from the water packaging except First aid and health protection, which are quotes from "Going Places" (1948) propaganda cartoon played on the TV in the cargo. They're listed as one of the 'benefits' for workers while working for a corporation. By putting these in the same list as the water packet labels I thought would be a neat way to connect the item packaging as products provided by PE (or Dragonbreath, who are the manufacturers) with the medical staff being marketed in a similar manner. You need water is a the same way you need healthcare as it is a baseline for survival and it's something even scummy companies like PE can't go without providing. However it doesn't mean they won't cut corners anywhere they can. Packaged water is the only safe source of hydration on the ship, it intrinsically would make the crew me more conservative with consuming it. Medical supplies are limited, the nurses are barely trained and all expenses will be punishing on the crew's pay package, the obligations like Psych Evals which nurses are obligated to do are more of a checklist for formalities rather than something of genuine help. It's the bare minimum but marketed as a benefit.

It's funny seeing "CONSUMPTION SAFE" and "95% BACTERIA FREE" right next to each other, but of course the "safety assurance" comes first. It's a label that's there because it's a tactic for making the consumer believe that the product is more ethically palatable. It's performative and pointless that's only meant to give you a peace of mind.

"Tastes like warm plastic." is the item description for the water packet while playing as Curly. I believe all the packet item descriptions at the birthday party are a combination of reflections of Curly's subconscious cynical view of each of the crew members and the meta themes of characters whose color the packet is associated with, water being blue for Anya. I made the shape of the paper taped onto the posted resembling the speech bubbles I use for Curly's dialogue in my comics to draw a clearer connection suggesting who put up the note.

The taste of plastic is implies artificiality, something trying to imitate genuineness. Anya as the nurse is in charge of Psych Evals which are supposedly meant for gauging the mental well being of the crew, but in reality it's a checklist you can easily give all the 'right' responses to. She's not someone he confides in for his own issues because PE doesn't actually care if you're mentally well, and Anya as the person conducting the Eval simply follows protocol. Even if Anya does wish that Curly would "open up", there simply isn't an opportunity to do so when it's under the guise of Psych Evaluations, so all her concerns sound hollow. Combine that with the contents of her corkboard and all the surface-level 'optimism' which doesn't seem like a welcome environment for opening up with the stress and insomnia, as well as implied dissociative and suicidal tendencies Curly displays, because it's all issues more serious than any underqualified go-lucky nurse with an Evaluation sheet can help with. It makes it all seem so performative.

And warm, to me as if something stale, mild, stuffy, not the worst but there's really nothing special about it. Comfort can be found in warmth as well, that safety of it not being extreme or different, just warm. But mixed in with the "plastic" it gives an impression of a mild disingenuousness that you're used to. Their relationship is warm, but it's based on playful pleasantries which unfortunately Curly keeps up even in the face of Anya's attempts to have a heart-to-heart.

Ok that's about it. Might do more if this was legible to read as I'm not very good at writing.

Tastes like warm plastic.

[yintual]

 ㅤ( 🍀 ) ㅤ O7.O9PM; ㅤ𝗹𝗶𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗿𝘆

jungwon thinks you need a break from studying 𖹭 749% > ﹏ <。 𝗰𝘄 # kisses ﾟ glasses bf ! won +PHYSICS mentioned

if there’s one singular flaw you have, yang jungwon finds himself thinking, it’s that you study a tad bit too much.

from his seat directly across you, he’s been watching you mumble about physics formulae for close to 3 hours. the library, too, is now almost completely empty save for the two of you. 

it’s not that he wants you to stop—jungwon’s more than aware of how important the assignment you’re working on is. so of course he wants to be supportive. which is why he’s tagged along with you in the first place, after all.

but hell, a guy gets tired of waiting, alright?

especially when his girlfriend just so happens to be sitting right across him—in hand holdable, and even, dare he say, kissable distance.

and you refuse to make it any easier on him with how cute you look when you pout at the page of numericals in front of you. it’s like you don’t even care about his sanity.

he rests his chin on his palm as he watches you furiously scribble something and erase it immediately after. 

tone flat, your boyfriend finally breaks the silence. “you know you’re looking at that worksheet like it personally offended you, right?” 

you answer without even sparing him a glance. “ugh, shut up. i got the sign convention messed up again. and i hate differentiation.”

“hmm. well maybe, and hear me out here ... what if … the universe is telling you to take a break.”

you don’t answer. he wonders if you even registered the words he’s just said.

“orrr …” jungwon leans forward, attempting to catch your eye to no avail, “maybe spare a glance towards your attention starved boyfriend? i promise he’s more interesting than electrostatics.”

that gets a giggle out of you, which admittedly does make him momentarily proud. but in mere seconds you’re back to locking in. he can’t help but mentally curse the education system for bringing him to this position. because god. this is tragic, really. 

with a sigh, he finally decides to take matters in his own hands. without a second’s hesitation, he’s pushing back his chair in favor of getting up and walking over to you.

“baby. i’m talking to you.” 

“alright, gosh, i’m—” but you apparently hadn’t taken into account the change in his position. you blink, confused, and realize after a minute that you feel a soft warmth behind you. 

and as you turn in your chair to face him, you find his arms caging you in against the table. 

“... i’m listening.”

jungwon leans in closer, his expression oddly smug. “don’t you think you’ve practiced enough questions for today?” 

“i just— there’s only a few more chapters i have left to go over ..” you’re not fully sure if it’s the close proximity that’s making you flustered.

“no. i think you’ve done enough.” 

you want to argue but the finality with which he speaks makes you reconsider your own words. 

“we don’t want you getting burnt out, yeah? you need some time away from physics.” 

you can barely think to formulate a reply to that as he dips his head down, placing a short kiss to your lips as if to emphasize his point. all you can do is smile into it, kissing him back with a hand resting on his chest to steady yourself.

“think we can both agree my idea was better, hm?” jungwon mumbles, peppering a few short peck along your jaw for good measure.

you pull back slightly, though, much to his displeasure. “well, mr. boyfriend, if you’ve had enough attention, then … i really do need to finish at least one more page.”

“... who said i’ve had enough?”

and then he’s taking off his glasses in one fluid motion before his lips are back on yours swallowing any protests you might have had. gone is the sweet, soft boyfriend who’d been giving you company all this while. 

(seriously, he picks the worst times to do these unfairly attractive things.)

the edge of the table digs into your back ever so slightly but you’re much more busy processing how sweet he tastes against you—of desperation. it’s a gorgeous color on him.

you vaguely think you hear his glasses fall to the floor with a soft clink. but with how intent your boyfriend seems upon robbing you of your coherence, you can’t say for sure. 

doing physics numericals is overrated anyway. you’d honestly rather just kiss your boyfriend, instead.

𐙚 . regulars : @chrrific @jessxxxfwd @evanesceki @soobundle1009 @weedatthegasstattion @flipitkickit @douqhnxtss @soona-huh @amoressb @nicholasluvbot @manariee @rinrinninnin @ddeonuswife @douqhnxtss @lovenha7 @amatariki @i-am-not-dal @liyahhhh620 @elleetlalune @luvvchn @s0shroe @wensurr @unhakies @starniras @calabaeri @athenaisonlinee @weepingsweep @itsactuallylina @puma-riki @starniras ⋆

        𝖤𝖷𝖳𝖱𝖠! [ <3 ] do we like layout. yes or yes. + gais i finally understand what timestamps are. its when u write a drabble and don't know what to call it!

ㅤㅤㅤ© YiNTUAL ♡ 2025

[cherrygirlfriend]

MY READERS’ LOVE LANGUAGES

──── i thought it’d be an interesting idea to give you guys a bit of a peek into how my readers prefer to be shown love as a fun way to get to know them!!

pervert!reader ♡ physical touch.

i don't think anyone's surprised by this, but when i say physical touch, i don't just mean sex, even though she has a very high libido and it’s an easy way for her to show and receive the feeling of being wanted.

pervert!reader loves any kind of touching; cuddling, holding hands, kisses anywhere and everywhere, hugging… especially pda; it shows to her that her partner isn’t afraid to show her off, that they don’t care about what others might think.

physical touch and pda was awkward for rafe at first, but when he saw how happy it made her, he tried his best.

dreamy mlf!reader ♡ receiving gifts.

as someone who didn’t come from a well-off family, there’s something about a person who gives her something dreamy!milf needs or wants.

although she appreciates expensive presents, what she really covets, what she really craves is for someone to give her something they know she’d like, whether it was a bouquet of her favorite flowers, her favorite snack or an expensive necklace. as long as it’s given to her with thought behind it.

her husband, james, gets her expensive things. but he never seems to get anything he thinks she’d like; just what he thinks would look good on her.

housewife!reader ♡ quality time.

she doesn’t care what it is they do; it can be going on a week-long beach holiday, a dinner in an elegant restaurant or sitting on the couch in matching hoodies watching love island while potato chip crumbs coat their laps; as long as he’s next to her, everything feels alright.

lucky for her, the moment rafe comes home from work, he can’t stay away from her for even a second.

married ex-wife!reader ♡ acts of service.

although she sometimes gets insecure… rafe also knows how to make her feel better.

with both her current husband will, and her ex-husband rafe, she has most appreciated anything related to the son she shares with rafe, leo; he’s the most important thing in the world to her, and caring for him is like caring for her, but even before he came along, she always thought that actions speak louder than words.

although rafe had some difficulty with it during their marriage, he is determined to show her that he’s a changed man.

fragile fawn!reader ♡ words of affirmation.

everyone always made poor fragile fawn feel like she was insane, like she had no place in the world. so, she most appreciates it when she’s validated, when she’s told that she’s not crazy, and she didn’t deserve the bad things that have happened to her.

as someone who’s constantly been told that there’s something wrong with him, rafe understands her better than most, and understands her need for validation.

sunshine!reader ♡ quality time.

she’s clingy loving, and it’s hard for her to stay away from the ones she loves for too long. she loves showing people how much she cares for them, and the best thing you could ever gift her is your time.

although rafe grumbles about her being ‘an annoying, clingy menace’ he secretly loves how much she wants to spend time with him.

farmer's wife!reader ♡ acts of service.

as someone who’s been raised on a farm, someone who’s worked her entire life, she appreciates it when someone takes some of the load off her shoulders and instead chooses to take it up for themselves, and rafe usually takes care of everything outside of the house, while she takes care of the things and people inside.

sweetie!reader ♡ words of affirmation.

especially due to the complicated nature of their friendship/relationship, she appreciates when rafe validates his feelings towards her and tells her that he actually cares about her and that “she’s the only one he wants.”

taglist: @raahosh @nemesyaaa @purpleplumpudding @esotericcangel @mattyskies @bakugouswaif @nonietosay @my-name-is-baby @tinythebunni @fratbrochrisgf @ariieeesworld @silkylovey @izumis-salty-penis @flow33didontsmoke @cameronsbabydoll @love-ella333 @haylorbestie @k4yr14 @harringtonsbowgirl @lacelottie @st8rkey @lunaleah @cicicavill7 @lillied31 @doremimosasol @lerclec @deeninadream @finnickodairslut @constantsadness @drewsephrry @rafemeow cont. in com.

join the taglist! ♡

[idyllwave]

vergil has fucked before. nero was proof of that. but with how fucking oblivious you were, dante was starting to wonder if vergil had any game at all.

or where vergil tries to flirt (key word TRIES) with oblivious reader over the course of knowing each other.

oh, and dante is there too, i guess.

Dante knew you were oblivious. Painfully oblivious to the point that it physically hurts him when he sees his brother try and fail to “woo” you. Overtime, Dante started to accept the fact that you were either cursed to never see the obvious signs that Vergil was head over heels in love with you, or you were just incredibly stupid. The latter was proving to be more true than he realized.

“Thanks Vergil,” Dante could hear your voice echo as the door to Devil May Cry opened along with accompanied footsteps, “you’re such a good friend!”

Dante could just feel Vergil's spirit get crushed from here, and when you both rounded the corner, well, Vergil may seem stoned face and quiet as he stood beside you, but Dante could tell that he was dying on the inside.

“Right.”

Then your eyes landed on Dante and you were quick to give him one of your happy-go-lucky, award-winning smiles as you waved to him, “hey Dante!”

It didn’t help him either when you ran up to him and threw your arms around his neck making him spin you around in a bone crushing hug. Such a greeting was natural to you, something that Vergil wasn’t aware of. In fact, Dante could already feel his impending doom when he set you back down.

“Looking at your chirper mood, I’m guessing the mission went well.”

“Heck yeah! You should of seen the swoosh attack Vergil did when I was about to get sliced and diced!”

“Swoosh attack?”

“Yeah, it went swching and slitchk,” you exclaimed as you made a slashing motion with your arm.

“Sounds like he really saved you there.”

You nodded as Dante chuckled, “yeah! And even though he can be kind of prickly, I can feel that we’re on the fast track of becoming great friends!”

Dante, looking behind you, could physically see Vergil going through the five stages of grief. To anyone else, Vergil looked like … well Vergil just being himself. But to Dante, he could see the twitch of the eyebrow, the downturn of his lips, the way his eyes narrowed, or how his body tensed.

Then you turned to Vergil, “right, Vergil?”

“No. I would much rather be something else to you than your friend.”

You nodded, “wait, like super best friends?!”

“No,” the word came out way faster and harsher than the last no.

“Oh! You mean like- like,” you started to tear up as you went to Vergil and grabbed his hands (something he didn’t let anyone do without accepting a death penalty), “like brother and sister?! I always wanted a big brother!”

At that, Dante lost it. His laugh echoed off the walls as Vergil was on the edge of either strangling you or just proposing marriage to you in order to get it through your thick skull that he likes you.

“I will never see you as my sister.”

Vergil, not wanting to kill you on the spot, decided to act fast and destroy the foreboding family zone quickly before it festered.

“Wha- really…?”

He looked down at you like you were the scum of the earth. A part of you completely floored that Vergil hates you that much.

“Really. However, I can view you as my wife.”

“Ohhhh,” your earlier sadness completely forgotten about. With how easily you bounced around, it was always interesting to see how you would react to things.

And finally (FINALLY) Vergil thinks he got through to you.

Until…

“Like a work wife?”

For fucks sake-

Dante tallied up the mental score between your obliviousness and Vergil’s motivation. Currently, it was sitting at you: 561 and Vergil: 0.

[idiasweat]

hair stuff

idia's fascination with gn!yuu's hair warnings: this was written for myself so reader has wavy and long hair that they don't take care of because it's hard. can be inferred as depression. self-deprecating language. established relationship. probably ooc word count: 1.7k

Idia isn't normal.

He knows it, too, so you don't have to feel too sorry for him. He's used to being stared and snickered at, the subject of sly comments and knowing smirks. He couldn't hide himself even if he had the motivation to- unlike your usual run-of-the-mill loner, he has to wear his weirdness on his face- but as less of an mask to take on and off as he pleased, and more of a scar, a permanent fixture on his skin that told the world exactly what was wrong with him, a story of his past, sins that weren't his, etched under his eyes. Painful, yes, but nothing he's not used to. Being the "other".

You're a lot like him.

That's what drew you together in the first place, wasn't it? Like being the only two kids who didn't have a group project partner yet, and were thusly made to work together. Divine introverted matchmaking, Idia called it. A break from the universe.

You're not so normal yourself. That is, you can talk to him like a person and not see a single thing wrong with him, your eyes skimming over the scars of his family's misdeeds as if they weren't even there, and meeting him in the middle. A brief, fleeting moment of eye contact here and there, though you seemed to prefer looking at his hands instead. Your awkwardness, the way words caught in your throat or stuck themselves to the back of your teeth, the interests you shared and the burdens you both shouldered, everything that made you yourself, and he himself, became a bridge between you, two islands on the open sea.

You were perfectly, wonderfully, not normal, and Idia wouldn't have it any other way. But, there was this one thing...

"Idia!" you jolt away from the touch of his hand with a yelp, and he pales.

A bearer of the family curse, the miserable mark that made itself known on his body, the big neon sign that said, "hey, look at this freak!", his hair burned redder than the cherry-flavored candy in his lap. He hadn't meant to tug on your tangled locks, but he didn't know the first thing about how to touch hair like this. His was... lithe, soft, lighter than spider silk, perhaps the only good thing about being himself was that he had no need to wash or brush his hair, because it wasn't really hair. It wasn't hot like fire, nor would it burn, but it wasn't like yours, and that was the best way he could put it.

You seemed to think it was wonderful, the fiery shades of red, pink, orange, and blue that matched his mood, the way it moved and glowed in the dark of his room... you regarded him with such gentle interest that he couldn't contain the color he burned when you touched him, ran your fingers through the flickering locks. But your contented hums always came with something bitter, a contemptuous remark about your own hair...

...Which Idia, of course, found baffling. He had to restrain himself from feeling through it on his best behavior, and most days he would want for nothing more than to roll the ends of the thick strands between his fingers. You think it's disgusting, and though he strongly disagrees, there is some truth to the thought that he enjoys the "grossness" of it. The way in which your hair can change, from soft and fluffy to heavy and matted, thick, thin, slick, dry, it cycles like the seasons, that of which Idia also isn't familiar with, since he spends the whole year in his dark, gloomy room. If he can't admire the color of summer leaves or the return of the spring sun, he can at least run his fingers through your hair while it's greasy. Next best thing, right?

"Sorry," he offers, softly, taking a limp strand of unwashed hair between his fingertips and studying the weight and shine of it. You look uncomfortable, and he drops it.

"Sorry," he repeats. "Does that hurt?"

You look at your feet, buried in the soft blankets on your bed. "No. I just don't want you to look at it right now,"

"Why not?" he asks, though he can make a good guess. You don't understand his interest in it, and you wouldn't even if he could put it into words. Idia can't blame you. You talk about your looks the way he does himself, which often stirs a painful fear in his chest. He doesn't want you to hate yourself like him, not when he likes you as much as he does.

You run a hand over the back of your head. "I haven't done anything with it in a few weeks," you mutter. You're being vague, but he knows what you mean. You've talked about not being able to take care of it before.

A sense of subdued, barely-restrained excitement blossoms in Idia's chest, and his fingers twitch.

"C-can I...?" he rasps out, voice trembling with want. You think about it for a moment, but, either taking pity on his weirdness, or feeling particularly vulnerable, you nod.

Idia finds himself in your bathroom, with nowhere to start. There are products here (yours, probably whatever was cheapest at Sam's) and there's the faucet (running, but not hot) and there's him, who has never done anything like this, not even in a game. Maybe he should've invested in those girly salon simulators he gets ads for all the time. Damn his gamer pride.

...Not that that's any equal to the real thing, a towel draped around your shoulders, your eyes wide and expectant as he reads and rereads the directions on every bottle. He swallows, thickly, his throat a little raw from the anxiety.

"O-okay... warm enough now...?" he mumbles to himself, feeling under the tap. Seems decent enough. "Could you... lean back, maybe...?"

You do as told, which is a relief (surely, if Idia were doing something terribly wrong, you'd tell him so) and he leans over you, dipping your hair under the lukewarm water of the tap, watching, with barely-restrained obsession, at how your hair absorbs it and darkens, becoming a texture and color he hadn't yet seen on you. It's not slick like grease, or the film of residue, but the weight is the same. He wets the rest of your hair, combing his fingers through it to gently work out the knots, separating the strands into groups. The sweet-smelling soap brings back memories of you- ah, it's the scent that sometimes lingers in his bed after you've spent an evening in his room. He prefers it as more of an afterthought than a powerful force, as it is in liquid form, in his hands and then at the ends of your hair as you half-heartedly guide him. Your eyes close as his fingers rake over your scalp, no doubt the same pleasant, tingly feeling that he gets when you do the same to him...

Again, Idia takes him time threading his fingers through your hair, watching as the water straightens and flattens it out, just for it to reflexively curl back into its typical pattern when the tap is turned off. He's never seen anything quite like it, and it's decidedly satisfying to watch. ASMRtists should get on this instead of that stupid tapping crap they do, he thinks.

Lather, comb, rinse. There are a lot of steps involved, and he suddenly doesn't envy having your hair so much. Even though you've asked him to do the bare minimum, he's knee-deep in a routine he wouldn't be able to muster the motivation to do for himself on a good day.

Conditioner. This one smells like nothing. Maybe it's expired, he thinks, and then: ...Do these things even expire? Or are they forever goop, like honey?

Not worth looking for a date on the bottle now. He doesn't want to worry you with his incessant double-checking.

You tell Idia that now's the best time to comb through the tangles and knots in your hair, and he does so with painstaking precision, too terrified to accidentally pull or tug and hurt you. His heart is pounding, but it's somewhat satisfying all the same, and once his fingers have worked themselves into a routine, he finds it almost... fun. He could do this all day, rather than clicking his computer mouse at nothing and tapping his foot on the floor. Mindless, menial tasks like this are the best.

You tell him good enough before he can get to the particularly complex mats, and he has no choice but to oblige, rinsing your hair and feeling the new softness and weight under his fingers. He scrunches the small, weak curls as you recommend, and you towel yourself (Idia couldn't figure out how to wrap it) when he's done.

"Good?" he asks, a little too hopeful. You nod.

"For now, better than I could do,"

Too soon to ask if he can do it again. It's much easier to take care of someone that's not him, though he has the unsettling suspicion that you'll demand to bathe him in return someday. He'll have to mentally prepare himself for that.

You sit in your room, your back to his chest as you mindlessly scroll through memes he sent you earlier. Free from the towel, your hair hangs around your face in tiny, wet curls, so cute that Idia wants nothing more than to touch them... but he restrains himself, opting to wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on your shoulder.

After a moment, you murmur, voice raspy and weak, as if you're barely holding yourself from breaking into tears. "Thanks,"

Idia blinks, somewhat startled by your tone, as if he had just done something horrible on your behalf. "...You don't have to... uh, no problem. I had fun,"

"I mean," you clarify. "Thank you for not thinking I'm gross. Or being repulsed by me. Or whatever."

You're a lot like him.

He stares, stunned for a moment too long, before gently patting the top of your drying head.

"...I don't ever think you're gross," he mutters. "You're cute."

You don't respond to that, only leaning further back into his arms. He hums, allowing himself the pleasure of twirling a strand of semi-dry hair around his finger, if only for a moment.

Weirdly, Idia finds himself holding his breath and counting down the days until you're greasy again.

"Gross" must be a relative term to a guy like him.

[radicalcrashout]

will say that as much as i have my problems with gwen and her kind of shitty behaviour and personality at times i will always go to bat for her because a) she's no worse than the rest of the crashout cockup squad in terms of dubious morals and b) she's had over a decade of people hating on her because they're rampant misogynists and someone's gotta tilt the scale back a bit

[endivinity]

Regarding your Fallout fic, I feel like it would be remiss of me to not tell you that gamma gardens and 'atomic farming' - a process back in the 50s that was just exposing crops to a fuckload of radiation and seeing if any of the resulting mutations produced anything good.... as well as selling gardening kits to housewives with actual radioactive material for them to just. bury in their yards.

IRL, it did have some positive results, creating several new breeds of more productive fruits and vegetables... that is, the professionally-handled ones. The ones with actual radioactive materials handed out to housewives... yeah that shit absolutely killed people.

Now imagine what could result in a world like Fallout's, where radiation REALLY goes ham... and where companies like Vault-Tec wouldn't let little things like "morals" get in the way of getting people to pay them for the right to nuke their own gardens.

Ooh holy shit this ties so easily into the FO4 intro sequence where they're trying to use nuclear energy for good things. and it also ties it into use of a G.E.C.K because in what nuclear-based world would radiation NOT play a part in a rapid regrowth kit . because it even says on wikipedia that the gamma gardens were intended as a more peaceful use of atomic energy vs for warfare

here's the thing: I don't think vault-tec would even consider it to be evil, though it certainly has applications in dubiously ethical experiments (and for sure THOSE would be seen in play. hydroponics, greenhouses, other major agricultural vaults where they swap out the radiation type) (shout out to vault 22 love u and ur freak style weeds mwah) - in a lot of places it would just be seen as the norm. probably for upper class families who can afford a garden, and in farms. Nobody would bat an eye. they already got fusion cars and pipboys. and by that point most of the repercussions (noted in wikipedia - "plants further out [from the death zone] often featured tumors and other growth abnormalities. Beyond these were the plants of interest, with a higher than usual range of mutations") wouldnt be really happening in a documentable way or suppressed by higher ups bc they want to sell more thing!! who cares about later this is the atomic renaissance and we can make big dollar

Later down the line, without human supervision bc theyre fucking dead, gardens and lab-grown experiments would go absolutely ham. the lumpy ones and the safely-mutated ones would crossbreed. naturally the entirety of plant life in proximity to nukes would be subjected to this on an immense scale but like... thered definitely be Some plants grown already exposed to radiation with like. tolerance or at least better adaptations to radiation as a whole. several of those would be repurposed into wide scale crops etc. i also want some old lady's personal atomic garden of flowers to have taken over an entire suburban area with snapdragons that can fully conceptualize morals and choose to be Evil about it

even more fun is the idea that agriculture-focused vaults wouldn't even notice the effects until a generation or three in. ghoul vaulties, bc theyre obviously still gonna eat their food, it's the only option, but...

hey this has fun implications for the Slog or Greygarden doesn't it?

[ranger-jahen]

totally 100% agree that making a goofy ass comic should be just like a chill thing. really sucks that ppl are being asses to you about it.

but claiming this is an intentional character flaw written into Wyll to make him “more complex” and not just bad game visual design, possibly as a result of animation time/funds budget is where I have to disagree.

I think it is untrue that the existing writing of Wyll’s character intended to say he wants to place himself “above the downtrodden” because the much more consistent-with-his-history explanation is that he’s upset that he’ll be associated with the tormentors of the downtrodden. and it is much more likely that it was simply an inconsistent visual design choice that caused confusion for players. that’s like a technological shortcoming, not a shortcoming of Wyll’s.

Wyll does have shortcomings of his own. you can see clear themes in his story that talk about how he struggles with rigid patterns of thinking, or relying on old lessons he learned from a father in ways that show a sort of clinging onto an idealized parent who has failed him, or thinking himself an island who has to be strong enough to always make the “right” decision (even when outside perspectives might aid his understanding of a problem.) but I can’t agree that the idea that he wants to be “better” than the unfortunate is a theme intentionally-written into the story because I don’t think it has a great deal of purchase in the rest of his arc or history.

I think it’s an interesting way to interpret that moment, and headcanons are the backbone of fandom society, so this isn’t meant to be a “you can’t do that” reply, but it saddens me to see this framing of “you’re defending your favorite character baselessly because this was clearly an intentional writing choice for Wyll and you’re just missing the plot” because I think that’s fundamentally not the case.

also I don’t think Karlach works as a perfect counterbalance to this, because I actually think between the two of them, they share a theme of nonconsensual body modification making them more like something they hate. Wyll and Karlach have both been tormented by devils - Karlach’s heart being replaced and wreathing her in flame, making her look more like the devils she was forced to serve, and Wyll being changed into a devil for punishment when he’s tried so hard to fight against the harmful influences of devils now being made to be one of them - like I think Karlach might possibly understand more than anyone else in the party why this would be so deeply upsetting for Wyll.

it is a faulty visual design choice though. truly frustrating and you’re right on point there. alas [shakes fist] the systemic problem of releasing video games on crunch time

Wyll's disgust at his appearance post-curse hits a bit different if you're playing as a Tiefling.

[towasdandelion]

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

𝑻𝒆𝒙𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑽𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒎, 𝑺𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂 𝒂𝒏𝒅

𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒌𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒔 "𝑰𝒇 𝑰 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅

𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍".

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

The last part of this one! I was supposed to finish the angsty series but maybe another day (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠)

[Jabberwock and Frostheim ✿ Hotarubi and Obscuary]

I think there's much to be desired of Leo's reaction. The embodiment of the word "menace" will definitely look forward to taking advantage of this situation. Better get his camera ready cause he will not miss out on an opportunity like that! Wait, you're just messing with him? Tch, he should have seen that coming. How boring.. You better think of something interesting for him to film to make it up for him!

Sho does not like hearing your name and 'trouble' in one sentence. He'd rather keep you away from it, even if it means basically babysitting you.. Yeah, he's ready to do that just to keep you safe, you better appreciate that. Wouldn't leave you in need. And if you really do get yourself into something, you can count on him and Bonnie swooping you away from the scene. Testing his reaction, eh? I'm afraid this won't go unpunished. I feel really bad for you if you happen to be ticklish!

Isn't it.. kind of insensitive to joke like that with Alan, given his past? Well, you went with it anyways. And his whole body instantly tenses when he reads your messages. You're in trouble? It's serious enough to be sent to jail? Just what is going on? His mind is swirling with various bad thoughts. He won't hesitate to step in, all you have to do is let him know and- Oh. So you're not in trouble after all. That's a relief. A huge one. But please, no jokes like that again.

Ritsu is ready to jump into action the second he reads your message. I mean, he's worried of course but he thinks the explanations can wait for now. But saving you can't. So what if he doesn't know any details? What's your point? You're speaking with Japan's next top Attorney so you don't have to worry about a thing! Well, you better do let him know you were just joking or else you'll just end up paying for his time. Just kidding, he wouldn't charge you. Maybe.

Saying things like that to Taiga is never a good idea okay? But now it's too late. He doesn't care what's going on, as long as it is something interesting (and probably illegal) he's in! Um, at least you'd have a buddy in the same cell? I don't know what to say. If you managed to actually make him help you with anything, that would be an achievement. But yeah. Wait, what do you mean you're just joking? That's just boring! Luckily you just gave him a couple of good ideas for entertainment. Make sure to hide if you don't want end up getting in trouble for real.

If Romeo ever sees a single gray hair on his head, you best believe he's going to pin it on you. He's going crazy from concern about you and from hiding it of course. He can't let you know he cares too much obviously?? But he's actually ready to send his men the second he reads your message. Somehow the thought of you being in trouble makes his blood boil. Hmm, interesting.. Good luck telling him you were just joking! You're going to end up in his office, listening to him lecturing you about wasting his time. (Again, he cares)

It takes Jiro a moment to figure out that something more serious is going on. He quickly looks at the contact name and realizes he's not texting a general student, but you. It's hard for him to imagine, how did someone like you ended up getting into trouble. He's going to have to save his own questions for later though. He cares about your health after all, so he will do everything in his power to help you. He's relieved when you tell him its just one of your jokes again. But you're still in for a check up, just to make sure you're really okay!

Yuri's heart almost jumps to his throat. Sure you like pranks, but you didn't strike him as the kind of person who would intentionally get in trouble. But as your doctor he should keep his cool, no matter what the situation is! It just happens to be harder to do when it's about you I guess? (I wonder why) With that being said, he's more than ready to provide you with any medical assistance. Similarly to Romeo, telling him you were just joking is not going to be easy. And it will have consequences! Be prepared for a good scolding.

[jennamoran]

@horatiovonbecker writes:

@jennamoran Incidentally, I feel like you might have some interesting thoughts on how to pick and/or recognize a thematic statement, though maybe it should be its own post.

RPG campaigns are a form of serial fiction, really, and while serial fiction can definitely benefit from picking your themes and metaphors and statements and core setting elements and such in advance, ultimately a lot of what really shines is developed in the process of creation. A bunch of stuff gets thrown at the wall in a hurry. (In an RPG campaign that wall is the players' picture of the real and fictional worlds and what matters.) Some of what gets thrown at that wall sticks. It stands out. It gets more attention. More callbacks. More thinking. It has a greater influence on the rest of what happens. This repeats. Eventually you have a picture of what the story is "about" that isn't necessarily what the author (here, the players and GM) "intended."

If you're writing a non-serialized work of fiction, you might get to this point and start revising front-to-back so that everything fits those themes. You might even do this multiple times. But in a serial work of fiction, all you can really do is recognize a few of the most important things before the end---some from the beginning, some learned along the way---and resolve those in a satisfying fashion. (Or, of course, and you can do this in RPGs too, go on indefinite hiatus, end abruptly while doing your best, or force everything to end in the way originally planned even though it's unsatisfying.)

I think of an RPG as a medium. There's no clean line between medium and message, of course, no clean difference between a game that prescribes a thematic message players can only rewrite by breaking the game, a game that has a few loose messages and leaves the rest to the players, and a game that thinks that it's universal and says nothing at all. But I tend to think of an RPG that I'm writing as a medium for players to use to create stories. Even if I'm trying to say something myself, I'm not trying to say it through the vehicle of your game. Nor am I expecting you to come up with something intentionally---I just figure that if you shake the players and pour out their brains onto the uneven canvas of the game, you'll wind up with a piece of art that's worth seeing.

To be clear, I think that RPGs that do try to say something through the medium of your campaign are pretty neat; I was even a bit jealous sometimes of people who do that kind of thing until I made one like that earlier this year and discovered that the main reason I don't do that is that I don't want to.

... but anyway, if you ever see me casually pushing all the artistic design work for a game onto the players' shoulders, that's what's going on; it's not that I expect professional post-editing perfection from players, it's not that I have nothing to say myself, it's that I am personally really interested in the process of players saying a bunch of stuff that is often not that important in itself but which provides a rich supply of stuff that they can draw upon in the next moment, next scene, and next session to go "yeah, okay, let's build on that a bit" and add contextual weight to their next action, until by the end they've said something they didn't know they wanted to say but did from the start.

cf @shencomix 's classic:

This doesn't happen because someone wrote a book on how to write webcomics that includes a fixed rule telling you that at the end you have to fight God---

unless someone did, I guess?---

But because ultimately nobody writes webcomics except as a cry of rage and horror against the order of the cosmos, so little threads of that theme show up in the first ten comics, and then get amplified again and again before the end. That's the phenomenon I'm trying to capture in most of my games, and in turn the reason why people who look to my RPGs for a clear description of how to write a webcomic only wind up confused.

[corseque]

Clair Obscur spoilers (ending)

- I've been thinking about Visages and Verso and Renoir and Gustave and how interesting this game is by conflating and paralleling its 3 primary male characters, and how complex every detail in this game is. The symbolism and metaphorical meaning is incredibly hard to wrap my mind around, and I don't think I've caught every detail. BUT I SURE AM TRYING.

So first step in my interpretation is really internalizing that in one of the endings of the game, Verso and Renoir, the two characters who would be most devastated by Maelle's ending, are in that ending symbolically merged into one old man who weeps for her and for himself -> Maelle has painted Verso to be an OLD man wearing Painted Renoir's suit and still wearing Renoir's wedding ring because she cannot bear to lose her father as well, even though she chose to lose him in an equally devastating way that she lost Verso. In order to exorcize the pain of her father's loss as well, she has combined that pain with the loss of her brother, and it all swirls together, and they swirl together.

The last image of the game, we see Renoir's wedding ring as Verso plays piano.

(I have watched many people play that ending, and a good percent of them can't tell whether it's Renoir or Verso when he first appears on the stage. The image of him as specifically OLD is on purpose in this way. Many, many people were not able to easily tell the 3 men apart in the scene on the cliff, too. I've seen so many people speculate while playing that Renoir is Older Gustave. And Gustave, and Verso wear each other's hair styles and clothes as well as both wearing Renoir's clothes and hairstyle, whereas Lune and Sciel can't swap hairstyles. So the 3 men are conflated in a way that Lune and Sciel aren't with each other.)

This is something that Aline did as well -> Aline, whose pain is so identical to Alicia's, when painting the Mirror of Renoir, painted him wearing not his own more casual clothes*, but the spectacularly fashionable suit that Verso died in**. Perhaps she, because her pain is identical to Alicia's on seemingly every level, felt the loss of still-living Renoir in the same way that Maelle felt the loss of still-living Renoir in her ending, as they both pulled away from him but couldn't bear facing his loss, either.

Renoir himself speaks about trading himself for Verso as if the two men can be traded or equivalently exchanged for the other - "I would have traded my years for his."

* Renoir did not even dress up for the Official Family Portrait, without a jacket, without a tie, and even has his sleeves rolled up. If ever there was a time where you would dress formally, it would be an Official Family Portrait, but he didn't even put on a tie. This man did not dress formally.

**Verso is the one who wears the full beautiful dark suit in the Official Family Portrait, and the suit appears again in Alicia's flashback about his death.

So Painted Mirror Renoir was painted to wear Verso's clothes at some point, and he continues to wear his clothes 67 years later. The two meld together into one confused delusional comforting image through the pain of Aline.

(A long tangent -> This conflating of Verso and Renoir is extended to Gustave as well, who Invents Things in a workshop like Renoir, who would have loved trains like Verso, who was separated by his love through a disagreement like Renoir, who would have saved Maelle at all costs the way Renoir and Verso would, whose eyes change from Brown to Blue in the moment of his death. The game, at times, is itself confused about the 3 adult male characters and merges them into each other. They are such parallels to each other and the game loves playing with that.)

(In a very real way, because the game presents Gustave's suicidal tendencies at almost the same moment that Renoir appears on the stage causing both the Gommage and then the End of Expedition 33 (introducing Death into the setting), and then Gustave and the game itself seems to go on to describe Renoir as simply "Death approaching" and nothing more complex than that at first (Renoir doesn't once speak a single word to Gustave, and is in no way anything more than a Symbol or Force of Nature in Gustave's story) - in a way, the game seems to be also merging Renoir and Gustave together, but Renoir is the personification of Gustave's suicidal ideation. Which also parallels and probably stems from Verso's suicidal ideation.)

(So the scene on the cliff, on second viewing, has the most delicious added metaphorical layered meanings. So many that it's almost a fractal. Gustave-Renoir becomes an image of a Suicidal Man who inevitably and always Kills Himself for Alicia/Maelle, reenacting Verso's death. The suicide is externalized into the person of Renoir because he is the one who is trying to make the world of the Canvas and Aline and Alicia to admit that the Brother's death is real. The Cane and the sound it makes is the inexorable, wordless approach of the brother's suicidal self-sacrificial death, that must be accepted as a fact that happened and will always happen. The sky is blue. The brother, who was already suicidal, sacrifices himself for the sister.)

(The Father is the force that gently urges the violence of Sudden Death to be admitted and taken as truth (a kindness, not a cruelty... an act of love), and thus Renoir is Death Incarnate, here to interrupt the idyllic unreal world in order to return the laws of nature and the reality of death to their true spheres, to bring Death even to this world that could deny Death, so that those alive may truly live, for the sake of the living, for those who come after. Renoir, after gently killing Gustave, looks down at Gustave as if he is confused at Maelle's shock. The Brother and Son already saved and always saved the sister. The truth cannot be denied. Renoir metaphorically must bring this fact into the story. And it is only when he speaks to Maelle and thus stops being the Unspeaking Incarnation of Inexorable Death that he returns to being a character in his own right. And it is, of course, RIGHT after playing this role is over that Renoir is finally named "Renoir" by Verso and so stops being Death Incarnate in the story.)

Anyway, back to my main point. The game confuses Renoir and Verso and Gustave. Renoir-Verso-Gustave. (They were all played at one point by the same motion capture artist, purposefully, too.)

"We couldn't tell if you were my bother or my father, but to me, you were both. The best father and brother I've ever had."

So this merging of Verso and Renoir (and Gustave) into one comforting person seems to be almost the dream of the Canvas as dreamed by Aline and Alicia. These images are very complicated to me and I don't think that it's really correct to nail it down to just one meaning, so imagine me on the ground knocked out with all these details swirling above my head like little chirping birds.

Brother-father-son.

Keeping this in mind, and this last part is not really about Gustave, but just the other two. I was also thinking about how Renoir actually painted a lot of self-portraits in this game -

The unthreatening, encouraging Green Tophat Orphelin in Reacher, who always builds up his daughter and never sabotages her, and wants her only to fly

The tissuer, who quietly toils, a life dedicated to creating beauty for Sirene, who even in his dedication holds the immunity to her charm

(I wish we knew more about the Hauler, and what Renoir's self-portrait for Clea might have been)

and it was bothering me that he did not also have an obvious self-portrait in Visages. But then I remembered that the game deliberately meshes the two of them together at several points. And Renoir talks about "I would have traded my years for his" THE MOMENT BEFORE YOU CONFRONT Visages itself, and it made me think that maybe that "first round" of Visages is the self-portrait of Renoir, while the Mask Keeper is Verso.

Painted Renoir knows that Verso is lying through the whole game, and while Renoir comes close to spilling the secret, he doesn't do so. He keeps Verso's secret.

Verso knows that the Curator is lying in wait the whole game, and while Verso could have told the Expedition at any time, he doesn't do so. He keeps Renoir's secret.

(so they are both characters who "wear masks" and lie)

Renoir is accused of "playing tricks" by Aline - it seems like Verso actually gets his subterfuge from Renoir, and it might be a trait they share

Painted Renoir summons Visages' masks in the fight in Old Lumiere, and the "strange petals" he summons also have masks on them (it's very obscured because of magical effects, but they have masks on them). So Renoir uses them as his own powers.

The Faded Man talks about how he would have traded his years for him (trading one character for another)

Visages IS basically Verso-through-the-eyes-of-Renoir, or in other words, Verso and Renoir mixed together. "Art is both window and mirror, and great art is both" - Renoir's paintings are windows and mirrors to himself.

So I personally think I see that first part of Visages, as what Renoir wishes that he could have been for Verso -

- a shield!!

Renoir wishes that he had died in Verso's place, much like how the first facade of Visages (which is just simply a medley of his fatherly art advice), is killed and only then is the "true" axon, his true son able to be attacked. Renoir wished he had been there, he wishes that he had died before and for Verso. In the game, Renoir gets this wish - or at least, the painted version does. So I personally interpret that first silent part of Visages is perhaps Renoir's self-portrait in that Axon.

Incidentally, I truly thought that when the Mask Keeper spoke, that was Andy Serkis voicing him (I later found out that it's not Andy Serkis but instead the voice actor for Monoco voicing the Mask Keeper), but regardless, I thought it was interesting that Verso's axon would have 1) a voice, and 2) have such a deep voice that sounds almost exactly like Renoir and not Verso. It's kind of terribly sad that Renoir painted him to recite his own words, like Renoir suspected or knew that Verso only parroted back the words that Renoir said to him and that Renoir wanted to hear...? It's such a strange and haunting axon.

It's such a complicated image, and added to all of the other images of the two characters melding together throughout the game, it's very interesting to think about what Renoir (and the game's writer) could have meant by it, or if the axon contained Renoir's self-portrait somewhere else.