#tear it to shreds offscreen

[intotheelliwoods]

Congratulations. You get to sock one of the original 2al characters in the face. very hard.

[randomcanbian]

these were filmed in the same week im crying 😭😭😭😭😭

[lookismstuff]

Gun's Tragedy

To me, the tragedy of Gun as the Genius in Nurture is this. While he genuinely enjoyed nurturing, he was always, always meant to lose or tear down what he himself built up.

He gradually lost all of those meaningful connections with his former protégés or disciples: Eli, Jake, Olly, Daniel, and even Crystal. Strangely, to me, the loss of his connection with Crystal feels more heartbreaking because it happened offscreen and felt so sudden and hard-hitting. What? He didn't even get to keep her as a friend because eventually her inheritance would be his?

And weren't Daniel and Crystal the only two among these protégés who still called him "brother", after all the others had left and/or died?

These losses, and the sad loss of his connection with Goo, were the results of his tainted ties with Charles Choi. Those ties gradually robbed him of all shreds of humanity that he still had.

And so Gun was called a Ghost, not purely because he was a terrifying presence, I think, but also because he lived like one.

What a bitter price to pay.

[beansprean]

This is where like, there would be a commercial break or smth

My Familiar’s Ghost part 18

Masterpost

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Slanted panel in red, showing Nadja holding up her taxidermy armadillo and looking at it with a thoughtful frown. Below her, Dolly studies a taxidermy possum with a similar expression. 1b. Slanted panel in green, showing Laszlo slumped over a table and leaning on his fist, reading from "An Un-Erotic Guide to the Undead." He is wearing half moon reading glasses and looks less bored than he's acting. 1c. Slanted panel of Colin walking down the stairs to the basement, shrugging off his coat. 1d. Close up of Colin as he enters his room and looks up in surprise. 1e. Reverse shot of the room over Colin's shoulder. The desktop computer on his desk has been pushed back in favor of Guillermo's laptop, which is open to YouTube. 1f. Over the other panels stands Nandor, looking sad and contemplative as he reaches for the bloody stake in his side. 1g. Close up of the laptop on Colin's room, showing a paused YouTube video titled "LEGO - Clone Wars Review + Knoll" by 'Colin_Knoll$.' There is a comment by Guillermo_theDestroyer98 that says "awesome job bud!" and multiple similar videos in the sidebar. Offscreen, Colin muses "Knolling, huh?" 1h. Reverse shot, close up on Colin ominously lit by the laptop as he tilts it back to get a better look, eyebrow raised with a frown. He continues, "Sounds like it could be irritating to talk about..."

2a. A long stretch of black before we see ghost Guillermo, seemingly under the house, floating in a chaotic swirl of his own ghostly light. His eyes are wide with shock and confusion as tears roll freely down his cheeks, hands hovering palm up in front of him. 2b. Close up as Guillermo lifts his shaking hands to stare at them in horror, more tears dripping from his chin. The light around him starts to whip and stretch upwards like fire, the black shadow returning in small shreds that coalesce around his head and shoulders. 2c. Zoom out, Guillermo buries his face in his hands with a sob. His glow burns and stretches up and up to twice his height, tendrils flailing like a kraken. Within it, the dark shadow pulls itself together in a looming cloak-like shape that arches ominously over Guillermo's shaking back.

3a. Exterior shot of the house as it shakes violently, bright blue light flooding out from every window. 3b. Repeat; it all stops suddenly. With a whine of dying electricity, the house goes completely dark and still. /end ID

[lollybliz]

i have a friend egging me on (hi topsie) and im terribly impulsive but i dont actually want to clutter the content of the post i rambled in SO im stuffing my own tags into their own random post for Posterity and maybe now without a character limit i can fix the punctuation and the sentence structure lol

It’s like. You know in the langst days when every other fic was a whump fic? Some of them would get the #graphic depictions of injury tag and then following it would be something like ‘offscreen’ or ‘handled delicately’ and then some of them would have that tag followed by dead dove instead. The difference being that while in both fics lance lost a leg; in one of them the phrasing would go-

With a sudden freezing pain Lance’s vision whites out, his balance suddenly thrown off as the world tilts sideways and he collapses to the ground; unable to hold himself up as fire sears across where his left leg had just been.

And the other one would go more like-

Keith watches frozen in silent horror as the droid’s blade comes down on Lance’s unguarded left side. The *shick* sound as it passes cleanly through armor, flesh, bone, and out the other side, the ensuing splatter-thunk as the lower half of Lance’s leg hits the ground shocks his body into moving. He darts forward, nausea curling in the pit of his stomach, to catch Lance as he begins to tilt; choking on his breath. Keith quickly decapitates the droid that had just irrevocably changed Lance’s life, hardly paying it a second glance as it crumples to a pile of scrap before landing hard on his knees next to his partner. Lance’s face has gone pallid and his eyes are focused somewhere behind Keith; the shouting of their teammates in the coms nothing but white noise as he takes in the sheer amount of blood pouring from the jagged wound. Jolting into action, he props Lance against his shoulder and begins to tear at his own armor for any cloth to press against the shredded stump, anything to reduce the bleeding until they could get real help.

DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN? They’re the same thing, essentially; the point of adding the dead dove tag is about emphasis its about degree its about ‘i labeled this bag and i labeled it clearly and if you open it anyway that’s on you’.

Also hey i just wrote shortform whump in the tags what the fuck. 

And now it isnt in the tags anymore heyo

am i going to run with this probably not but it was fun

[sarcasticdolphin]

Todolf daemon au “Pity”

Entirely unrelated to any of my other daemon aus. Do I have a daemon au problem? Maybe. I think this makes 4?

This is not an au for the faint of heart. Most of the actual stuff that deserves warnings is offscreen, but heavily implied. This could kind of be described as the bastard child of Mirrorverse and my pagan daemon au.

Tod is a monster. Rudolf is ... up for interpretation. POV is OC. Those of you that have been with me for a while know what is likely to happen to the OC.

The day was seared into Carim’s memory. The king, sitting in the ornate but uncomfortable-looking stone throne he always occupied in the cathedral, his duck snoozing on the armrest of the chair. That was normal. 

The panther that slunk out of the shadows behind the alter, golden-eyed, enormous, decidedly not the daemon of the prince, padded across the stone floor with cold purpose, seizing the sleeping duck before it had a chance to flee, tearing the unfortunate daemon to shreds, was not normal.

Humans and their daemons tended to share odd connections, and their depth varied. The king, evidently, had been quite well connected to his daemon, his flesh ripping even as the bird’s did, his lifeblood pooling and splattering on the grey stone.

The prince was crowned that day, his father’s blood and bloodstained duck feathers still damp on the cold stone, his own daemon half-hidden behind him, the ceremony overseen by the beast atop the altar, lazily grooming itself.

-------------

It is a surprise to be made a gentleman of the bedchamber - Carim’s breeding is quite low for the post, but the young king manages to keep most of his own servants, though it seems to Carim that it is the continued lurking of the golden-eyed panther that cows the old king’s men.

The young king is a terrible ruler. No one would dare so much as insinuate it to his face, but the fact is obvious even to Carim. The mutterings amongst the guard become louder and louder. They die one by one in the night, snatched by unseen shadows.

The priests bristle at the dusty altars. The young king doesn’t tend them anymore - Carim has seen him kneel, his own panther sat gracefully beside him, clasp his hands, bow his head, and pray to the great golden-eyed beast seated above him.

The mutterings of marriage started even before the young king became king, but they quiet after the first three candidates all meet unfortunate ends. 

But Carim sees the marks that no one else does, dark and stark against the young king’s skin as his pallor increases. Besides that he sees the two panthers circle each other, the golden-eyed by far the more eager of the two. 

The courtship is almost sweet, the great beast bringing little gifts - and not so little ones. Carim had seen the half-eaten goats that found their way into the king’s chambers, had edged around the blood on the stone. There were mutterings of far worse. The kitchens started to have trouble, keeping enough maids.

Perhaps the courtship could be seen as sweet, but what followed was anything but. The coupling of panthers was .... unpleasant. Carim had been with the king while it was happening, once. The yowling made it all too clear. It wasn’t the first time, or the second, or even the tenth. Carim still saw the moments of pain etched into the king’s face.

All Carim can feel in that moment is pity, for the little prince, trembling as the crown was placed on his head.

The famine starts slowly, but all too soon half dead corpses litter the streets of the capital. The masses gaze hatefully, hungrily, up at the white palace. The plague decimates them in a way the famine never could. The dead outnumber the living. Carim is glad his family had been half-banished, his father made ambassador to the far-away east.

It’s been a decade since the too-large crown slipped on the young king’s brow, the priest’s trembling fingers no help. He’s still as young as he was that day, save for his eyes. Cruel and cold. Breathtaking. 

The realm belongs to Death, to the crows. But Carim can’t bring himself to care. He gazes longingly up at the beautiful king. Because he isn’t handsome. He’s beautiful.

The golden eyes of the great beast linger longer and longer on him, burning with a cold, calculating fire. Carim’s stoat sticks to his shoulder, even inside his jacket.

The king’s blue-eyed panther snatches him from Carim’s shoulder as the golden-eyed panther looks on with what Carim can only imagine is approval. It is his last thought as his world is consumed by pain, his body wrecked even as his stoat’s is. 

The last thing he sees is the young king, a panther at each foot, looking on. And a shadow, watching over it all.

[trainer-blue]

i wanna see agent stone kill onscreen idec

[lincolnlogger]

Ok, here is another one to ponder about our homeslice, Raoul. In the stage POTO, he is led by Mme. Giry down into the cellars. There is no mention of the Leroux torture chamber or anything other than the fact that she won't go with him beyond a certain point. So, how does are guy go from suave and sleek in his evening attire to having his shirt pretty much hanging off of his body in shreds by the time he reaches the lair? I am imagining him just shredding everything for dramatic effect, but what could have ACTUALLY happened to him and his poor clothing?!

Ok I've thought long and hard about this for the past few days. I hate this point in particular because I actually really loved the ripped shirt thing.... but now I'm realizing how ridiculous it is in the context of the musical.

So! To answer, I need to explain a little bit of how I'm handling the inconsistencies (and you know what? I'm gonna call them "phlubs" from now on, as that's quicker to write, haha) in this project.

When a phlub occurs, it's like a tear in the plot fabric that needs to be mended. The easiest thing is to sew the phlub back together with a simple piece of string. I call this the Occam's Razor approach. Basically: use the simplest explanation to get from point A to point B. One example of this is the ALW musical verse and movie verse using a fictional "Opera Populaire" instead of the real "Opera Garnier." The easiest way to fix this is by just to say they're separate Opera houses. This makes other parts of storytelling easier by explaining things like how the Opera house apparently burned down in 1870 when the Opera Garnier only opened in 1875. Yes, it's not realistic to real life, but it works the best in the context of the various canons.

The Occam's Razor approach discourages creativity and often will result in one sentence explanations. Thus, to bring us back to the phlub at hand- why did Raoul’s shirt get so torn up? Well, he jumped into the lake and swam under the giant grate thing. So it's not unthinkable that he'd get at least a little disheveled in that process, though a little bit of detailed work in that department could make it a little more believable.

Sometimes, though, the tears in the plot fabric are a little... difficult to mend, and require extensive patching and tailoring. This takes creativity and inventiveness. I call this the Authorial Right approach, as in I, the author, reserve the right to do what I need to do to make it make sense. This will be the approach I use for a good amount of the story, but especially in the time jumps between versions. There are several decades between 1870 (Gerik POTO) and 1905 (LND) and they need to be accounted for. Unfortunately there is limited information in many instances, but that just means I get to get crazy with the plot. I'll also use this approach to make filler scenes that will move along the plot, even if theres absolutely zero basis for them in the adaptation I'm referring to. Many of these scenes will be for the musical and movie adaptations, and will detail offscreen moments.

In this regard, I have the opportinity to make a very interesting reason as to what happened to Raoul here. Of course, right as Phantom is dragging Christine down to his humble abode, we see the rat catcher go by. Did Raoul run into the rat catcher? Unlikely, as he was rather well dressed as he jumped into the lake, and only appeared tattered upon his entrance to the lair. A better (and more interesting, in my opinion) option would be to bring back the concept of the siren, and have Raoul engage in some fight with it. This will have to of course be ironed out, as the siren does not belong to the Merik-verse whatsoever, but what I will say is.... there are multiple phantoms floating around this timeline 🤫🤭 so who's to say, really?

Though- Raoul tearing his shirt for dramatic effect actually does seem like the most plausible explanation haha

[itsthemysterykids]

God, I loved that story! Do another!!

Coraline: Once upon a time in a far away village, there were four women who shared a home, and surprise, surprise, they did not get along. They especially didn’t get along with their step-sister, Lili. But they just call her CinderLili, all ‘cause she slept by a fireplace and got some cinder on her. That’s how mean nicknames start

*At her used-to-be home, Lili is scrubbing the carpet, then her stepsisters approach her*

Mabel: Make sure you clean that tea stain real good so I can come back here and spill more tea.

Lili: Well, there goes all our female characters. Anyway, you two are gonna regret being mean to me someday.

Coraline: When are we ever mean to you?

Lili: That time you told King Midas to give me a back massage. *She hits the brush against her back so they hear metal clanging* Now I’m dealing with that.

Coraline: Someone mad they didn’t French? *Flashes her golden teeth*

*The stepsisters are now in the den having tea, and Lili is putting logs in the fireplace*

Lili: Why did you ask me to clean the fireplace, then start another fire?

Coraline: It’s fun watching you clean. *She kicks over a bucket of ashes* ... Clean that up.

*A messenger arrives blowing a horn*

Neil: Hey y’all, hey y’all! The residents of this house are invited to the prince’s royal ball!

Mabel: Why didn’t he just post it on FairyGram?

Neil: King forgot to pay some bills. *Hands Lili a scroll then leaves*

Lili: *Reads the scroll* The king is holding a ball at the castle to find his son a wife!

Mabel: Well it won’t be you, because you’re not going.

Lili: Come on! I do everything around here, and I don’t ask for anything!

Coraline: … Okay, you can go.

Lili: Seriously?

Coraline: If you have a dress to wear! Boom!

Mabel: And you don’t got a dress!

*They leave the den*

Lili: Oh, just you wait…

*That evening, Coraline and Mabel are dressed up and ready for the ball*

Coraline: Okay, we’ve used up our female characters, so our stepmother is offscreen.

Stepmother: *Offscreen* Okay, girls! Let’s make mommy rich!

*They are about to leave*

Lili: Wait! *Runs down the stairs wearing a ball gown* You said if I had a dress to wear, I could go to the ball!

Stepmother: *Offscreen* Who told you that?!

Mabel: How did you even make that so quickly?

Lili: Well, I have an eye for fashion, and I have pretty quick hands.

*The mice who made her dress are watching from the stairs*

Mouse: Unbelievable.

Stepmother: *Offscreen* Well I don’t care. Girls, tear up her dress!

Coraline: Don’t you need like a seam ripper for that?

Stepmother: *offscreen* Just do it.

*The two tear up her dress leaving it in shreds. Lili stares in shock for a moment, then runs off crying to the farmhouse*

Lili: What did I do to deserve this? I have been nice and innocent my entire life!... *Music begins to play and animals surround her without her noticing* All I've ever known, about who- *She takes note of the animals* Aaahh!! VERMIN! *Starts swatting them away* Get away! Get away! *They run away* Oh, my God! They probably had rabies!

*Suddenly, a blue light that appears before her, and transforms into Norman*

Lili: Who the hell are you?

Norman: I’m your fairy godbrother.

Lili: Don’t you mean “Godmother”?

Norman: No, she and the fairy god-aunts have to take care of Sleeping Beauty. Anyway, what would you love more than anything?

Lili: This is amazing! I want Belle to admit she had Stockholm syndrome when she married that beast..

Norman: … How about a way to get to the ball?

Lili: That works too.

Norman: Okay, I need some mice, a dog, and an apple.

Lili: Don’t you mean a pumpkin?

Norman: Apples are less messy. Now go find some mice and a dog.

*A few minutes later, Lili comes back with the mice and a dog*

Norman: Bibbidi bobbidi boo! *Turns the mice into horses*

Lili: Damn.

*Norman then turns the apple into a carriage and the dog into a coachman*

Norman: Okay, almost done. Now for the dress. What are we thinking? Flowing and breathable? Maybe someone short?

Lili: Just something nice to wear to a ball.

Norman: Gotcha. Bibbidi bobbidi boo! *Transforms Lili’s torn dress into a beautiful blue ball gown*

Lili: It’s beautiful!

Norman: Check out your shoes.

*Lili looks down to see…*

Lili: Glass heels?

Norman: Yeah, and if you wanna keep all your toes, don’t tap dance.

*At the castle, the ball was in session, and everyone from town was there*

Mabel: Wow, everyone from town is here.

Coraline: Even Lady Pacifica of Northwest

*Somewhere else*

Dipper: Man, there’s nobody cool at this party.

Wybie: All these royal types are inbreeding, wall-eyed, buck-toothed British guys who have to be wheeled around under a blanket.

Old man in wheelchair: I say! Wherever is Grandmama? She would so enjoy the festoonities!

Neil: That’s not even a word.

Raz: *Walks through the crowd* Hi, how are ya?

Stepmother: *Offscreen* Your majesty, these are my daughters. And one of them would love to be your princess.

Coraline: See anything you like?

Mabel: Oh, I’m so elegant and fancy.

Raz: Yeah, okay. Stick around if I can’t find anyone else. *He walks around and bumps into Lili. They are immediately awestruck* … Okay, first off, obviously. The dress. Wow.

Lili: Oh, thank you.

Raz: Wanna dance even though I just met you?

Lili: Love to.

*Ballroom music plays and everyone dances around the room, while stealing a few glances at the mystery girl. Lili and Raz are about to kiss, but her phone rings*

Lili: Just a sec. *She answers her phone* Yeah?

Norman: Yeah, so I forgot to mention something. The magic wears off at midnight.

Lili: What?!

Norman: It’s 11:59, you better get the hell outta there!

Lili: … I gotta go! *Runs out the ballroom*

Norman: Hey, where are you going?!

Neil: You touch it, you buy it!

*Lili runs down the stairs and her heel comes off. She leaves it, goes in her carriage, and rides it back home*

Raz: *He picks up the heel* Wait! You forgot your heel! Eh, what was the point in that? She can’t hear me.

*Back at the farmhouse, Lili sits in her torn dress*

Lili: We almost kissed. Now I’ll never leave this place and be a rich do-nothing wife!

*The next day at the castle. The head knight approaches the prince*

Wybie: We still haven’t found her. My knights and I have searched far.

Raz: … Have you searched wide?

Wybie: … Well…

Raz: Nevermind, I’ll find her myself.

And so, the Prince set out to find his mystery girl. He searched all over the kingdom, except for in the south, which, even in fairy tales was… Let's say ‘loud’. He then arrived at Lili’s home

*In the living room*

Raz: Okay, you know the rules. Whoever fits this heel, will be my princess. Or prince. I’m Bi. *He is about to try the shoe on Mabel*

Coraline: Oh, there’s my heel! I must’ve lost it during gymnastics. *Bends backwards* This could be your life!

Lili: Enough!

Coraline: How did you escape?! I locked you in the closet!

Lili: I busted down the door!

Mouse: *Holding a key* Unbelievable.

Lili: Did you seriously forget what my face looks like?

Raz: The room was very dark!

Lili: Uh-huh. Gimme the heel.

*Raz hands her the heel, and as she puts it on, surprise, surprise, it’s a fit*

Mabel: *to Coraline* How is it that shoe only fits her? We wear the same size in shoes.

*Coraline shrugs*

Raz: So you wanna get married?

Lili: And leave this dump? Yes! And as for you three. Bye Felicias! *Leaves with Raz*

*And so, the two got married even though they just met, and Raz couldn’t remember what she looked like*

[astringofmadhousefloozies]

Birthday Sequence

Three friends have their birthday in a month of each other, and the parties get progressively more interesting. Content warnings for coarse language, offscreen sexuality, underage drinking and the consequences thereof.

As always, check my Twisted Wonderland Fanfiction tag for more, let me know if you enjoyed reading, and if you want to chat or ask a question, my askbox is open.

~*~*~*~

"You look great."

Idia made a whine you were certain they could hear in Savannahclaw and put his face in his hands. "Why did no one tell me about the birthday event?"

"I dunno, because we'd all assumed you'd seen everyone else put on the prissy little birthday boy suit and dance around like an idiot while I did an interview, and realized you weren't exempt."

"But why didn't you make Crowley skip me?" He looked ready to cry, so you you got up on tiptoes to kiss his nose and dry his tears, which simply had the opposite effect.

"Because maybe I wanted to see you dressed up pretty for a change?"

He just groaned. "Wasn't the festival enough?"

"Never enough; not with you. I'll make sure me and Ortho are your bodyguards, okay? Now, get out there and pretend they're all in their underwear. I got a present on the table for you. And..."

"And?"

"If you're truly overwhelmed, I'll bring you back here to hide, and get you out of the monkey suit myself."

It took him three seconds to turn a truly absurd shade of pink, and flee out the door of his room. The only thing scarier than a crowd where you're the center of attention is a lover who's relentless in voicing her attraction, if you're a neurotic dweeb with a molten core of self-hatred.

~*~*~*~

He'd relaxed somewhat as the presents went on. After checking with each person if they'd rather he open it now or in private (shuddering every time someone said now, in fear of bad reactions), he'd so far wound up with a super mega deluxe vinyl release of the Moirai's most recent album (despite not owning a record player, but it came with the digital album and lots of feelers so he still liked it very much), piles of sweets, and wouldn't have to pay for the subscriptions on most of his game for at least two years. And, he still had a pile to go through.

"Who's this one?"

"That's me. Go ahead."

He lifted the lid off the box, and took out a little creature, a sofubi toy of transluscent grey plastic painted with pearly stripes and shiny green eyes. "I've never seen this Nyarochi before." He turned it this way and that, a small smile on his lips. "Where'd you get this?"

"I got it blank at that second hand shop you showed me."

"... Blank." You could see the gears turning.

"Why do you think I asked to borrow your airbrush?"

Turning, turning... there we go. "You did this?"

"Yeah, dude. One of a kind, just for you."

He looked back and forth between you and the toy, smile growing. Once finally settled on you, he lit up - literally; his hair let out a bright, sparking burst that left spots in your eyes. You think he might have said thank you, you were too busy reeling from the sweetness of his expression, all directed at you, and little Nyarochi was tucked in his jacket pocket until he finally left for his room, you in tow.

~*~*~*~

"Hey Sam."

"Hey, Yuu. What can I get for you this fine day?"

"I got a list. I'm making something for Lilia. Did you know he's a new year's baby?"

"I did!" Sam scanned the list, only to set it down and raise an eyebrow at you. "I have much of this, and can order almost all the rest. You do know I'm not allowed to sell alcohol to a minor."

"It ain't for me, though. Do you know where I can get it?"

He shuffled around in a drawer before sliding a card across the table. "In Stock Now! The solution to your problem."

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. "Sam. Does Crowley know you're selling fake IDs?" Your turned it over. "Really, really good fake IDs?"

"Crowley lets me do what I want, because I might stop doing what he wants."

You laughed. "Gross. Alright, I don't know the price, but can I get a discount if I help you stock a few weekends?"

"I'll do layaway just for you, if you come in next week."

~*~*~*~

"Yuu!" Lilia leapt at you, and you swung him around in a hug. "It's so great to have you here! Where's my loot?"

"I got to finish it, let me go a minute."

He did, and watched with interest as you set up from your cooler. You ran a lime around the rim of a glass, and crust it with red salt before filling it with ice.

"Yuuuuuuu. My little darling. You know I'm too young to drink."

"No you're not, dude. it's an open secret, like what happens in that shed behind the gym stays there and you don't get admitted to NRC if you're completely heterosexual." You added the mix to the glass, before tossing in a celery stick and sliding it over to him.

He barked out a laugh and took the glass. "That's true all right." He sipped at it and smiled. "What is it?"

"At home they call it a Caesar. I made up a shitton and I'm leaving you with the recipe, which you have to follow. I figure you liked your tomato juice, so..."

"It is just my taste. Thank you." You'd only blinked, and he'd already finished it and slid the glass back. "More, please."

~*~*~*~

You'd learned two things tonight, of which you'd only dimly suspected one. The first was that Lilia could probably drink the entire school under the table, staff and ghosts included. The second, far more interesting thing, was that when tipsy, Lil talked about his past, and in his past, he truly redefined the meaning of "absolute slut".

Looking like a particularly cute teenybopper had not stopped him from fucking his way through most of the Court of Thorns, and a great deal of the places he'd visited, in ways both inventive and more than occasionally disturbing. You really, really ought to stop him; poor Mal was standing out on the balcony with his fingers in his ears, singing very loudly to drown out the noise, but you were too busy taking notes. Kalim was listening to his fellow Light Music Club member in awe, and Cater had been recording for the past forty five minutes, though you were pretty sure if he uploaded any of this his Magicam account would get permabanned for pornographic content.

"And that's when his sister - fabulous woman, cunt like a ripe fig and she'd start giggling every time you..." he stopped and swirled his empty glass. "Where'd my drink go?"

"You drank it all, dear. There's none left."

"Aww. Why'd I have to share it all." He set his glass down and plucked the half-full one from in front of Silver's sleeping form. "Hey, did I ever tell you what I got up to with his," nodding out towards Malleus,"his grandmother?"

You never found out, as Mal simply bodied him clean across the room before any more could be said.

~*~*~*~

"Vil."

"What."

"Can I borrow your lab equipment?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Why."

"I wanna make perfume."

He brightened. "Finally decided to stop smelling like a haunted house?"

"Vil, I actually pay real money for perfume that smells like a haunted house. I have multiple. Sometimes I layer them, to mix with the natural scent of the haunted house I already live in. And it's not for me, though if this works I might try to make stuff for myself."

He wrinkled his nose at you, somehow not creasing his makeup. "Why should I help you?"

You thought about it, and then shrugged. "Well. Why not?"

"... I hate that I can't argue with that. Come on."

~*~*~*~

You have no idea if the party was sedate because of the relatively few people outside of Diasomnia, or because everyone was scared of potential etiquette breaches. You could not complain either way; parties wore on you as they went on and Idia hadn't tried to leave in fear. Either way, Mal was starting to go from blandly cheerful host to fretful.

"What if there is too much cake? I don't wan't to have to finish it."

"You don't have to, dude. Cake's for sharing."

"When I was young, I was the only person at my party who wasn't a servant. So I would end up eating the entire cake by myself, every time." He stared off into the middle distance. "I don't really like cake."

"That's the single saddest thing I have ever heard in my entire life, holy shit dude."

"Why have a cake then, if you don't like it?" Idia was halfway through his piece. Third piece, actually. You envied his capacity to eat what seemed like his weight in buttercreme and not get nauseous, even if you worried for his pancreas.

"Tradition," Mal said, as if he was explaining the most obvious thing in the world.

"You should have done an ice cream cake, then. You actually like that."

"That is an option?" He paused, eyes full of wonder. "What else can be ice cream?"

You cut in before Malleus could continue down a road of ice-cream-everything. "You know, if you're that worried about leftovers, why not send a wrapped slice with the thank you cards for the gifts? Gets rid of it all so you won't be compelled to eat it ‘til you're sick."

Mal instantly grabbed you. "You are a brilliant, amazing, genius of a person. I'm glad you're my Son of Man and I like you very much."

Idia gave the tinest of coughs, looking towards the poison-coloured flames in the fireplace.

"You are mine too. I like the special case for my Dragon-Kun very much."

"Thought you would." He smiled down at his plate.

"Oh, shit, yeah. Here's mine." You brought the bag out from behind your seat and handed it over; Mal shredding it in his excitement.

"... What is this?" the box inside revealed a set of five amber bottles with screw-on tops.

"Your own special perfume blend. Rose petals from the Heartslabyul garden, blackberries, and the fruit of a blackthorn tree." You leaned back in your seat and struggled not to laugh at your own hideous pun. "I call it Feeling Thorny."

Good thing the box was well padded, because he dropped it in his laughter. Idia, bless his heart, wound up choking on some of the cake and needed an entire glass of water to stop coughing.

"I got the goods!" Lilia and Sebek had returned, the latter glowering at you over the top of a dusty crate as though he'd assumed you'd simply eat his precious prince alive the second his back was turned.

"What's the goods, Lil."

"Well, he's got friends he made here for this party, so I figured I'd crack something open from my stash." He pried the top of the crate with his bare hands, which would have made you need to sit down if you hadn't been already. "Saving this for a special occasion."

"Lilia, there's no need to bring that out for us."

"Nonsense! You deserve it! And this party's too damned slow. A little wine will be just the thing, and this is very light stuff, you'll all be fine."

You doubted that, but still accepted the glass of liquid gold when offered. It smelled sweet and floral, and to your pleasant surprise, did not taste like fermented misery when sipped.

Wait a minute.

"Lil, if I drink the fairy wine, I don't have to go live in the Valley of Thorns forever, do I?"

Malleus, seizing opportunity, sad "Yes" at the same time Lilia said "No" and Lil elbowed Mal in the ribs for it. "I'm not invoking any of our more traditional rules of hospitality. If I must," he said, elbowing Mal again before he could try to weave anything, "Let this be in return for being such wonderful friends to both me and my boy."

"I'll accept it." You sipped more as Silver wandered over and leaned over Idia for a glass himself. Idia simply drained his own to try and distract himself from the proximity of him before the anxiety kicked into high gear. Maybe it would vanish entirely if you got him profoundly drunk, you thought to yourself, but that wasn't something you wanted to try. He had enough issues without his deciding alcoholism was the solution to his problems.

Time to settle down and enjoy the evening. The wine didn't feel like anything, so what could possibly happen?

~*~*~*~

You woke up with a pounding head, your party clothes in disarray, and new and interesting pains. You examined yourself and your surroundings, and let things come back naturally.

Lilia, being very generous with his bottles, to the point of not letting a glass go empty at any point. Malleus sitting with his legs crossed and head in his hands, gazing warmly and not without hunger at a both very animated and disheveled Idia as he talked. You getting up to leave, and sitting right back down because your legs didn't work, so you'd simply...

Simply wound up here in Mal's bed, instead of home. With both of your boys.

The evidence wasn't the best. No telltale soreness, but you had a number of new and interesting bite marks, including one very high on your inner thigh with the dentition clearly showing fangs. Your underwear was in place, even if the tule of your pannier was shredded, so you didn't think you'd done anything more than very heavy petting. And to tell the truth? The idea of having done anything more didn't bother you - truly, there weren't other people you'd rather have done it with - but the idea that you had? And you couldn't recall all the fun details? Agonizing.

You leaned over, holding your head, to brush the hair off of Mal's face. He looked at ease, and had managed to slot himself into his weird pillows, so at least he wouldn't wake up with a crick in his neck.. You checked your boyfriend, clinging to Mal's far side like a lanky blue limpet. On his collarbone, at the spot where you preferred to leave your own marks, was a bite similar to the one on your leg. You had to turn away at the sight; the images it brought to your mind left your flushed and dizzy with want despite your pain. How fun, to learn new and interesting things about yourself.

Idia stirred and sat up. He looked to you, to Mal, to you again. His face had no expression beyond starting to turn rapidly grey and sweaty.

You pointed. "That door."

He nodded once before stumbling off to bed and through the bathroom door, to puke away his hangover.

Alright, next step. You poked at your sleeping friend. "Mal. You alive?"

He opened both eyes, bloodshot with a hair-thin pupil, and started making a noise akin to a base boosted tea kettle up 'til you placed a pillow over his head to shut him up. Fortunately, it worked immediately, he lay where he was like an idiot until adjusting it so the pillow merely blocked the top of his face.

"Yuu. How are you feeling?"

You thought about it. "Like I got run through a laundry press. You?"

He smacked his lips and ran his tongue over his teeth. "My mouth has grown fur."

"Wonderful."

"Light hurts."

"Par for the course."

"I'm not sure what else yet. Where is Shroud?"

Another bout of heaving from Malleus's bathroom answered that thoroughly.

Mal pouted. "Poor thing. He didn't even have that much."

"We all had enough. I'm still remembering bits and pieces."

He reached towards you and grabbed your arm, squeezing. "You are... you..." As much as he struggled for the words, the anxiety in his voice made the meaning clear enough.

"I'm not upset over any of it. I just hate that I don't recall it clearly yet." You extracted your arm from his grasp, and slid off the bed. "I'm gonna get water from the hall bathroom. You want any?"

He smacked his lips again, and smiled, wider than you'd ever seen him do before, specks of blood still crusted in the grooves of his teeth. "I can still taste you on my tongue. I never want it to fade."

"Hhhhhholy shit you need water. Bye." You left to try and hide the wobbling in your legs that wasn't from the hangover.

~*~*~*~

"You."

You stopped, and stared. It took an entire four seconds to realize that the large, half-dressed green bean glaring at you from the doorway was Sebek before he styled his hair in the morning. "You mean like, my name, or just me in general?"

He pointed a finger, hissing out his words. "You finally did it! You evil little minx."

"I didn't, actually, or at least not what you think."

He kept going, trying to keep his voice down. "You've seduced Lord Malleus! And now you're going to try and steal the crown."

What in the actual fuck. And he wasn't done yet. "You cruel temptress! Leading him on just so that you could become a queen our people would detest! My poor lord, at the whims of some-"

"Hey, you jealous there, Zig? You mad you aren't serving him all ways? If you want his dick so bad-"

"Shhhhhhhhh!" He looked over his shoulder, back inside, before glaring back at you. "I couldn't do that in good conscience! Lord Malleus deserves someone who holds only him in their heart. He's not my whole heart, so I wouldn't try. You, you have damn near everyone here wrapped around your fingers! And it's still not enough for you!"

"Sebek! He is my friend. And I give zero fucks about the whole throne thing, just so you know. Why would I want to be a queen? That shit sounds exhausting. And he isn't going to ascend until my great grandkids are in the dirt, so, yanno, shit planning if I tried."

Sebek was trying to think of a rebuttal when a pair of hands squeezed him from behind. "Stop yelling. I'm going to brush my teeth." Silver let go and circled around, dragging his hand along Sebek's waist as he did. "Be ready when I'm back." With that, he walked past you with his small smirk to the bathroom you'd just exited, wearing nothing but one of Sebek's shirts.

You watched the hemline skirting the back of his thighs with entirely too much interest before looking back at Sebek. "God damn, dude."

"Say anything else and I will throw you out the window."

~*~*~*~

Mal had traded his bed for sitting on the floor, braced against the wall by the bathroom. He'd managed to close the drapes against the garish light of morning, and the sounds from beyond the wall had changed from sickness to a running shower as you gave Mal a cup. "Drink up, asshole."

"How am I an asshole?"

"Because it's your birthday we all got drunk at."

"Please blame Lilia for that. Fairy wine is not something humans should start the evening with." He sipped the water and grimaced.

"Taste bad?"

"I forgot I didn't want to put anything else in my mouth after you."

"Mal, no. There won't be a repeat, even if I don't really regret it."

He looked at you with heart about to break. "Why not?"

"It's not fair to either of you! I love you dearly, but I'm not in love with you. I'm in love with him." You sighed. Even as more of last night came back, you realized you may have broken the whole thing beyond repair. "And how would you like it if you saw me running around with someone else? Don't say you wouldn't be jealous. You've got a five mile streak of it."

Mal was silent, before saying very quietly, "I don't mind so much after having him too."

"Yeah, well." You put your head in your hands. "You're sure he didn't jump out the window to hide in his room forever after that?"

Mal knocked againt the door, wincing at the noise. "Idia? You are present? You're alive in there?"

A few moments before that shaky reply of "I'm not sure, check in five minutes."

Mal smiled. "That's promising, is it not?"

"You know I can hear you out there, right?"

"I didn't."

"I can." More silence. "Also, the window doesn't open."

You quirked your mouth. "Is the shower helping? I might need a turn."

"Some."

"Do you want to talk about last night?"

More silence, before a small, "Not yet," as the shower shut off. "Can I borrow a robe? My clothes are wet."

"Go ahead, Idia."

He exited in a cloud of steam and purple-black terrycloth, and simply laid down on the floor, gripping it as if he would fly off.

"Still bad?"

He noded, cheek pressed against the floor. Fresh from the water, his hair was low enough that you could make out the actual hair on his head, each glowing like the finest fiber optic thread.

"Well. I don't think any of us are going to class today. So stay as long as you need to."

"Thank god, I don't want to try those damned stairs until my head's on right." You thought to yourself for a moment. "Is Ortho okay?"

Idia actually managed a smile. "I told him I was thinking of staying over and trying to activate event flags."

It took you a moment to understand the implications of that. "Noooo. This was not your idea."

"Mal wasn't. But. Ummmmm." He held up a hand and wiggled it. "He was there?"

"Your boyfriend is interestingly pliable when someone puts their mouth on him. A trait you both share, actually."

You felt ready to burst into flames. This could not be happening. "So who's idea was you getting under my skirts, Mal? That bruise is going to last weeks."

"Yours, actually. You wouldn't let go of my horns until you were satisfied."

The memory of that, and more, hit you like a transport truck, and you simply laid down and refused to say anything until Lilia burst in, disgustingly chipper and with a platter of burnt toast to chew on until the worst of the hangover was gone.

[betweengenesisfrogs]

The Triumph of the Marginalia

Marginalia, n.:

1 : notes or embellishments in the margins (as in a book)

2 : nonessential items

-Troll OED

Is it just me, or is Nepeta and Equius’s arc the most slept-upon piece of brilliance in all of Homestuck?

A brilliance, might I add, that culminates in possibly the most triumphant, fulfilling emotional moment in the entire work:

https://www.homestuck.com/story/7928

*stands back and beholds its majesty while from the background comes the sound of James Roach brutally murdering ska*

No, but actually, I mean this 100% unironically, and by the end of this post, I think you’ll agree with me.

By now, I think we all understand the Act 6 double metaphor: the series of temporal loops and universes that Lord English commands is paralleled with, and in fact totally identical to, the narrative of Homestuck. Our characters’ lives exist within this context. They struggle to escape it, and are defined both by it and by the rejection of it.

Enter Nepeta.

The metaphorical meaning of Nepeta in Homestuck is irrelevance, and that’s why she’s the most relevant character in any discussion.

Nepeta was one of the characters killed off during the Murderstuck arc. Hussie argued that she was perfect for this role. In fact, I believe he said something like “Nepeta is sweet, but if you look up the dictionary definition of ‘expendable character,’ you’ll see a picture of Nepeta playing with a ball of yarn and looking very cute.” She’s an endearing combination of shipper girl and apex predator, but not one of your Vriskas or Terezis in being a driver of the plot. Hussie, it seems, created her just to round out the troll cast. He described one of his purposes in Murderstuck as being to axe some of the less necessary trolls to reduce the scope of his character list.

Except that didn’t really happen, did it?

Like a cat with nine lives, Nepeta just keeps coming back.

Equius is another addition to the troll cast who gets pushed away from the main action. He was a character-writing challenge: how do you make someone who’s gross, uncomfortable, and racist kind of likable anyway? I’d argue Hussie succeeded, in large part because of Equius’s relationship with Nepeta. By the time you finish with Hivebent, you’ll probably have a little fondness for their moraillegiance. And if that doesn’t do it, the conversation that serves as their swansong in Equius: Seek the Highblood will tear your heartstrings to shreds.

Because Equius dies, tragically clownmurdered. There was, at the time, some stink over this from Equius fans. Would he have really let himself be killed so easily? Hussie countered: yes, and it was the most in-character thing he could have done. He died doing what he loved: being asphyxiated erotically and horrifically by a superior. Truly, there could be no more fitting end to his character than that.

And yet.

No sooner did Hussie complete his self-appointed story cleanup challenge than he immediately began to undo his own work. It’s almost as if, in declaring his intention to own those who preferred more characters to narrative economy, he immediately had to own himself??

By the time we get even a little way into Act 6, we’re deep in the dreambubble landscape, meeting dead characters left and right. And who should show up there but Equius and Nepeta? Equius attempting to get it on with a bunch of Aradias, who dump him. And Nepeta, living out her romantic dreams as a representative of a timeline where she got together with Karkat. They both appear as symbols of this deadness, this irrelevance. Except that that brings them back into the story, into the spotlight – the opposite of where they’re supposed to be!

Like many bits of commentary, Hussie continues to incorporate the metaphor Nepeta=Irrelevance into Homestuck. Karkat’s remark on their journey that he would love to meet “FIFTY FUCKING NEPETAS” and embark on “NEPETAQUEST” alludes to formspring remarks to the effect that, no, Homestuck was not going to have much time for the minor characters. Except it clearly did.

Why couldn’t the narrative let the meowrails go? Was it that despite the economy of Murderstuck, something was still incomplete? After all, one of Equius’s charms was that he appeared to be growing into a less repressed, kinder person. In Seek the Highblood, we see him letting his guard down enough to roleplay with Nepeta for a change. Their love for each other: wasn’t that ultimately what could redeem Equius in our eyes? So his dying and thus failing to protect her–isn’t that something that should be addressed?

You could imagine many a Nepeta and Equius fan saying this to Hussie back in 2011.

But Hussie was already saying it to himself.

The duo come roaring back into the story in the Trickster mode arc, mid Act 6, thanks to Gamzee’s ridiculous resurrections. True, Nepeta is still reduced as part of Fefeta, the character formed from killed-off girls who never speaks onscreen. But doesn’t using that fact as a running gag kind of draw our attention to it? Doesn’t the fact that Fefeta talks to Roxy constantly offscreen inform us that once we get outside the frame of the narrative, Nepeta has a rich inner life and countless stories to tell?

And it’s here that Equius gets something he never got in his original “arc:” the chance to apologize to Nepeta. You’d be forgiven for missing it since there’s so much else going on at the time, but he does, while fused with AR. Here’s what you’d miss, though: he’s grown as a person in the afterlife. He’s come to regret that moment of weakness, where his fetish kept him from protecting his moirail. Impossible as it seems, he’s continuing his character arc.

The scene ends with Fefeta exploding (she’s also, after all, dealing with Eridan), but it leaves us with a tantalizing question:

Will Nepeta forgive Equius? Is there even a plausible time and space in that story when she could respond to his words?

Do you see what’s happening here? Instead of being erased, Nepeta and Equius are starting to slip the bounds of the story that killed them. They leap in and out of the frame, half-mythical figures. Marginalized, they write their own stories in the margins. They exist in complete defiance of the original logic of Homestuck.

Lord English is an alt-Author figure, a dark, brutal reflection of narrative control and narrative necessity. His world, in which horrible choices are necessary, in which the alpha timeline is a ticking clock leading inexorably to his manifestation, is one that beats down people not deemed important enough by his narrative. Which makes it identical to the one we’re reading. Throw all the unnecessary characters in the trash. Kill them off, if it suits my purposes. The world doesn’t need Nepeta.

Which is precisely why it does. Because isn’t defying Lord English the entire point? Isn’t it what Homestuck reveals as truly heroic?

What might Nepeta be capable of?

Let’s talk about two other victims of English’s forces of marginalization. Davesprite might be the most quintessential example. He teaches us what the alpha timeline is and how it works, by going back to fix a doomed timeline and submitting to being doomed himself. Except he merges with a bird and avoids that fate. Okay, but he clearly gets killed off fighting Jack in Jade: Enter. Except he comes back and hangs out with Jadesprite. Okay, but he dies in the planetsplode in the Retcon. Nope, he comes back from that, too. Huh. He keeps slipping the fate decreed for him by – who else? Lord English.

But it’s a struggle, clearly. He’s caught up in various cycles of guilt and shame. Over being “not the real Dave.” Over his feeling that he has to be a hero in the sense Bro demanded he be. Hussie describes Davesprite as fitting the “way of the unbroken sword:” his experiences have led him to believe in being strong and capable at the expense of all else, in contrast with the other Dave, whose belief in Bros’ toxic ideas is beginning to slip – the “way of the broken sword.” And where did Bro get his toxic ideas from? At least in part, the whispering voice of the soul of Lord English.

Now we turn to Dirk. Like Dave, Dirk has a marginalized, “less important” splinter self but it’s more of a pressing concern. AR shows Dirk’s darker side: exhibiting manipulative tendencies that human Dirk is trying to move away from. He’s also a copy removed from humanity, who feels an understandable amount of disillusionment about being removed from physical existence and his own identity. But as much as Dirk may splinter, like his dumb anime sword, he never breaks. What this means in the symbolic language of Homestuck is that Dirk lives fully, instinctually, in the way of the sword. He believe in a world of hard choices, masculine heroism, and necessity. Ultimately, this, too, is part of what makes Bro so harmful to Dave. In AR and Davesprite, we have a strange parallel: two splinter selves, both of whom are enmeshed in the logic of LE.

Except AR, unlike Davesprite…kind of is LE.

What is Lord English composed of? Well, there’s Caliborn, the most unrepentant shithead of all time. There’s Gamzee, embodiment of horrifying clownery. And then there’s AR, a version of Dirk even more removed from the person he wants to be.

And…Equius?

Allow me a moment to get really indulgent and take a big puff on my Homestuck scholar’s pipe.

The metaphorical meaning of Equius in Homestuck is: sort of growing out of being a creepy racist.

Or maybe let’s say: the opportunity to do that. We said that Equius was on the verge of being redeemed (even had been, in the eyes of many readers). What does it mean to stick him in with Lord English’s souls? It means two things:

1) Equius is a product of his society, which was shaped by Doc Scratch, aka by Lord English, both of whom are kind of him, but Scratch picks up on his traits especially. This is a recognition of that fact: the part of him that sucks is, itself, Lord English in a dizzying loop.

2) Equius’s story is a tragedy. It is the story of a kid who started to escape his society’s tendencies, but was sucked back in by the evil force behind them.

Although…maybe that’s not the whole story.

Because both Equius and AR aren’t really that bad. AR’s pretty understandable, and by no means beyond the possibility of goodness. And the combination of the two? Honestly, pretty harmless. They counter each other’s worst tendencies by devolving into a weird goofball. In fact, AR even says he wants to do something heroic: to sacrifice himself for something really important. He does, kind of, mustering a last-ditch robohorse assault on Caliborn. But at the same time, this is the substance of his tragedy. A hero whose defeat of a great evil forces him to become the substance of that evil. Which could not be a more fitting summary of how these characters function in their story.

But maybe that’s still not the whole story.

Enter Davepeta.

At first glance, the creation of Davepeta seems like Hussie’s most batshit troll move yet. I feel pretty confident in saying that even those who predicted either of these characters returning didn’t see that one coming. However, a few pages of Davepeta’s presence reveals a fundamental truth:

Davepeta is fucking amazing.

In them, Davesprite’s depressive moods are buoyed up by Nepeta’s upbeat optimism. Nepeta’s reclusive shyness is balanced by Dave’s tendency toward brash banter. Both of them gain confidence from being the new person they are. They quickly let go of ideas inherited from the world that kept them from self-knowledge and happiness. Dave, his toxic masculinity; Nepeta, her fear.

A great point I’ve seen made is how much Jasprose and Davepeta resemble fantasy selves for Rose and Dave: indulgent, technicolor manifestations of people they could be if they let go of inhibitions and limitations. But I think Davepeta is the most unambiguously positive of the two.

The metaphorical meaning of Davepeta in Homestuck?

Growth.

Not giving a fuck about what the world thinks. The world, aka Lord English. Because Lord English could never have predicted that his machinations would also spawn a confident, powerful fusion of two beings he had discarded as totally irrelevant.

They’re also a multicolored non-binary furry, so that’s even more points in the pissing off shitheads column.

They are someone Lord English never conceived of, never could have conceived of, but which lay as potential within his domain all along.

And if Lord English is a reflection of the author, of what Hussie feels one has to destroy or sacrifice, than Davepeta is an indulgence existing in defiance of all that.

And this makes Davepeta the most powerful person of all.

They are the light at the end of the tunnel. They are the person you could be, if you could get past your mental shackles and just grow. It may not be possible to ever get there as a mortal human, may only be for a godlike sprite, but striving to be like them matters, is purpose and fulfilment enough.

And they love ARquius.

Nepeta believed in Equius, believed he could grow, and was growing. So as much as ARquius traps himself in a Lord English loop of his own making – grown, perhaps, out of Dirk’s belief that there should be a loop, that importance is admirable—Davepeta pulls from him, in his last scene, his finest qualities. His love.

Equius asks forgiveness again, and this time, Nepeta’s able to give it. Davepeta easily accepts ARquius’s apology, an apology which never could have existed within the confines of a normal narrative. A reconciliation that both of them fought for by defying their narrative, by existing outside it. By being not the trolls who lived and died, but their broader, conceptual selves, who exist beyond lifetimes. Beyond the comic page. And they consummate that reconciliation with that most cherished and loving of gestures:

A hug.

And even as this is Equius and Nepeta’s reconciliation, it’s also Dirk and Dave’s. Which, I should mention, is also taking place, simultaneously and circumstantially simultaneously, just below. It’s a more difficult one, certainly, especially as filtered through the splinters of Davesprite and AR. Here forgiveness is not quite the right word. But – knowledge, and recognition, and a kind of peace. It’s Davesprite’s chance to reunite with the part of his brother he loved, while also being a person who’s grown beyond him. And it’s AR’s chance to be loved.

Oh, sure, the art is ridiculous, the pose absurd. But that’s what makes it sublime.

I mean, what did you think that Sbahj comic was really about?

A boy distancing himself from his feelings through irony, never acknowledging that the story he’s telling is about two bros who desperately want to hug each other, but don’t know how.

Here’s the hug.

I want to dip into Epilogues territory for a moment, but it’s territory which is fairly well implied by Davepeta’s statements and role in Collide. The Meat Epilogue, I think, only illuminates what was already there.

Lord English is uniquely vulnerable to Davepeta.

And why shouldn’t he be? They, like so much else in Homestuck, are a consequence of his actions spiraling far beyond his control. But it’s more than that. Davepeta is finally able to lay the unbroken sword to rest by following the “prophecy” about Dave defeating Lord English. On the one hand, that’s kind of what happened. But it’s also completely different from what English intended, antithetical to his desires and goals. Which makes the victory all the sweeter. But at the end of the day, Davepeta doesn’t fight for the reasons Davesprite did. They’re free of that, now. Instead, they fight from a place of genuine compassion. Because Davesprite, like Dave, knows the true meaning of being a hero: caring about one’s friends.

But the most important thing about Davepeta is that they know Lord English, on a level that perhaps neither he nor they recognize. Both AR and Equius are in there, and both are capable of redemption. It’s only Gamzee and Caliborn who are truly beyond it.

How does Davepeta defeat Lord English?

With a hug.

They wrap their claws around him, and carry him into the sun like a piece of garbage. It’s an aggressive hold, but it’s also effectively an embrace.

And I have to wonder: in those final moments, did they sense a connection there? Did Equius and Dirk stir somewhere within Lord English? Did they give him a moment’s pause? Resist him? Make it just the tiniest bit easier for Davepeta to do their work?

If so, then that, too, is heroism.

At the very least, it’s circumstantially simultaneous with the hug we see in Act 6, and so it carries the same message:

Redemption.

Not for the shitheads, but for those who wanted to be better.

And if this isn’t enough, there’s a third reconciliation here, too: between author and reader, or to put it in other terms, author and character.

If Lord English is a shadow of the author, what part of the author can be redeemed? Maybe not the destructive, antagonistic urges. But the part that plans and designs and philosophizes as Dirk does. That part of Hussie wanted Davepeta to be there, to strike that final blow, and made it happen.

Because, when you get right down to it, as much as Hussie pretends to be antagonistic toward his readers and the characters they enjoy, it’s the fans, the shippers, the furries, those whose hearts go out to a cute, shy cat girl that he most celebrates.

Hussie fucking loves Nepeta.

Nepeta and Equius are, sneakily, the best characters in Homestuck, because they understand its fundamental message: that to succeed in Homestuck is to defy Homestuck. They defy everything it throws at them, and somehow, improbably, come out on top.

All of this is there on that page, a whole edifice of storytelling culminating in that singular, grand, supremely indulgent expression, a feast of looping leitmotif and color and imagery and meme and sound. It’s all there, if you know where to look.

Nepeta and Equius love each other, and that’s pretty fucking great.

See? I told you.

<> Ari

[orchidbreezefc]

OH SHIT YALL ARE WE PUBLICALLY TALKING ABOUT THE SHIT THE KFAM CREATORS PULL? IS THAT A THING WE’RE TALKING ABOUT NOW? I HAVE BEEN WAITING SO LONG FOR THIS YOU HAVE NO IDEA.

first: im not going to go into issues i have with the show itself. yall heard the helen keller episode and the walt storyline/the character voice a white dude used for him same as i did--my input won’t be necessary there i think. i also recommend the blog @kfam-tea​, thank you for your service, for being an archive for creator-based shit, the current snafu and their history, etc.

this is about my personal experiences with the creators. there’s plenty of behavior by the FANDOM that i don’t appreciate, especially in the official discord--where it’s specifically encouraged and cultivated--and maybe i’ll indulge myself with that in a separate post, but this i think will be more relevant to more folks’ interests and the current climate.

so. remember ep90, “if you’re hungry and you know it”? it’s the one where maggie calls in to apply and gets treated like shit by our protagonists for 15 minutes. comments are made about her breasts. they try to dissuade her from applying for the job posting they’ve been advertising because chet would sexually harass her and rather than address that they’d rather just.... warn off every female applicant? maggie through the conversation is trying to make amends for her wrongs (i.e. high school drama and attacking a guy who sexually harassed her so badly for years she quit her job) and talk about her efforts at recovery, and she is mocked, both in the way she is written and in the way sammy and ben talk to and about her.

it was bad. it was very sexist and bad, and nothing was said about it for a month (7/15-8/15), at which point ep92, “words: greater than pen, greater than sword” aired, which contained lily tearing sammy to shreds over it. ben wasn’t there, which was interesting, because it did create a dynamic where our resident socially aware lesbian (who solely bears the burden of educating people when they are being shitheads and is richly rewarded by being widely regarded as an unlikeable bitch by the fandom and many of the characters) rightfully confronts and gets an apology from a gay man for being half of an extremely misogynist shutdown of a woman. meanwhile, his hetero counterpart and unassailable purehearted fandom darling is not yelled at for his misogyny, and gets to have this Very Important Lesson relegated to him offscreen later. i mean, presumably? i’m pretty sure we never hear whether that actually happens.

still, it was a pretty thorough discussion of how gross that conversation had been, and it was addressed and apologized for in the show itself by the characters (or one of them), which was more than i expected. it regained some lost trust. it was clear to me that the kfam team had received the same sort of outcry from the fandom that i had seen in more private servers, and these were their amends. i decided to tweet at them applauding the effort. this is how that worked out:

[ID: a tweet by me that reads: “@ KingFallsAM hey.... today's episode was good. this was a good way to respond to fan criticism and the apology is appreciated. thanks.”

the official kfam account quote tweeted this to respond: “This was an intended storyline, we don’t course correct. We have ALWAYS had imperfect characters that learn and grow and will continue to. Also... we only saw one tweet even mention it. But thanks?“

a fellow fan, whose username and icon have been redacted, replied to the official kfam account’s response with: “I feel like there’s a less sarcastic way to respond to this tweet. I’m a diehard fan, however I saw quite a bit of criticism about thesexism[sic] in the recent episodes. I too was under the impression that it was a course correction, regardless I am glad that there is character growth“]

so. that was a cool thing. like, i do owe that other fan my life and will show up for them in their hour of need for being the only one to publically stick up for me despite being a stranger, but that sure was a quote tweet that a multi-thousand-followers account used to dunk on my under-100-followers account for trying to pay them a compliment!

i mean, really. the passive-aggressive ‘but thanks?’ at the end? and them saying not that they didnt course correct in this case where followup (a month later) was planned, but that they don’t course-correct, as in they never do that--was a clear statement of ‘we don’t accept fan criticism or feedback on writing OR representation and take it into account, ever’. hey kfam, pro tip: when you say 'thanks for accepting our apology i guess' it really sounds like you didnt feel like you needed to apologize in the first place. which is a pretty bold attitude to take about an episode where a character apologizes for being sexist.

like no wonder you only saw one tweet about it if that’s the attitude you present toward criticism (and, as @kfam-tea​‘s blog thoroughly proves, it is and has been, consistently). i know the risk of backlash is definitely why i hadn’t said anything about 90 in public up to that point. but yeah, 'nobody told us that episode was disgusting in our samebrain discord server that contains the literal creators who have a history of backlash, so can you really say there was fan criticism at all? maybe it was just in your head. after all, if we did something wrong with the intention to correct it a month later, did we really do anything wrong in the first place? checkmate'

tl;dr im not surprised by the new developments. my hearts go out to the MINORS, who are specifically cultivated as an audience by the sfw policy of the official server, who were publically chewed out by the grown ass author on twitter for requesting tags, warnings, or really any sort of discretion or consideration at all on nsfw content.

p.s.: here’s something kyle said on the discord in response to a conversation in which i criticized ben’s behavior during an episode (i.e. said he should apologize and take responsibility for a hurtful thing he did even though he did it by accident, or at least have it acknowledged in the show or the fandom that he did a hurtful thing--another post, perhaps) and the rest of the discord dogpiled me until i cried and shut down and stopped defending myself or speaking at all because i couldn’t deal with inviting any more argument:

[ID: a discord message from kyle that reads: “Thank you all for talking about this maturely and with your words. I’ve personally never seen that heard[sic???] of this scene with that POV attached but that’s the beautiful thing about this show and shows like it, is[sic] that we all kinda copy & paste ourselves on these characters and situations at times. Everybody’s opinions on the situation is[sic] valid with their own personal context of the scene.” two people have reacted with blue heart emojis.]

how magnanimous, kyle. wouldn’t have described the preceding argument as civil even if i did understand how anyone could possibly do anything on a discord text channel that didn’t qualify as using their words, but thanks? somebody literally DM’d me to ask if i was okay because without having ever talked to me one-on-one before they could tell i was deeply distraught by the end, but i’m glad you got to be the benevolent author and shake hands with both sides for a swift shutdown of dissent well executed. /s

[daysswithyou]

Fallen Chapter 24: Déja vu

previous / next

Characters: DAY6 Young K x OC (Rachel)

Warning!: Cursing and swearing, mentions of blood and bodily wounds

------

Tear me apart,

Rip me to shreds,

Leave me as nothing but skin and bones,

An empty shell of what I used to be before.

---

With the stars and moon hanging overhead, Younghyun dropped you off outside the female living area and made you promise that you’ll take a shower before meeting him for dinner an hour later. You nodded, mustering up a weak smile just to show him that you’re alright. You returned to an empty room; Esther should be with Jae now, presumably having a dinner date. You scrubbed your body vigorously in the shower, wanting to get rid of every last bit of dried salt clinging to your skin. Your skin was red, raw and tingling by the time you exited the shower but you could care less. At least you felt clean, clean from all the dark thoughts that previously clouded your mind, though you could never be fully cleansed of the painful memories. Walking along the hallways, you jumped when you saw someone waiting outside your door.

Bubblegum pink hair… classic red nails… This was Ayeon standing outside your room, no doubt about that. You gritted your teeth at the sight – seeing her always spelt trouble. Straightening your back, you ignored her but alas, before you could even get a grip on your doorknob, her voice had reached your ears.

“Drinks? My treat.”

“No thank you, I’ve got somewhere to be soon.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be such a wet blanket Rachel. It’s just harmless drinks.”

You turned around and crossed your arms before fixing Ayeon with your hardest stare.

“Really? The last time I checked, you don’t ever find me without good reason.”

Ayeon chuckled, but it was a mirthless laughter. Oh, how she wanted to scratch that stare off your face but not yet. Not now. Like a female lioness, patience will be her greatest virtue now – before she went in for the kill later.”

“Alright Rachel, you got me. I do have some things that I want to tell you.”

“You can just say it here.”

“I would need a little more time than that. So why not get comfortable over drinks?”

Ayeon lifted her red lips into a smile, and you knew that you weren’t actually left with a choice. Unless you went with her, she would not stop hounding you. You might as well get it done and over with.

“Wait here.”

You entered your room and slammed the door shut before leaning your back against it. You sent a quick text to Younghyun to tell him that you’ll be late – he didn’t need to know that you’ll be with Ayeon else things are going to get really messy. You swiftly switched off the phone screen once the message was sent. Remembering that she was still outside the door, you scrunched your face up in annoyance, gentling messaging your temple due to the massive headache that was currently splitting your brain open.

What the hell does she want with me?

---

Ayeon decided to go to a bar by the beach and you mentally swore for agreeing to her stupid deal in the first place. Being on the beach again reminded you of today’s earlier events and you could feel the discomfort crawl under your skin, almost like a million ants were festering under your skin. But there was no way – no fucking way – that you’d admit this weakness to Ayeon. Suppressing your fear, you held your head up high as you walked behind her. As the bar got closer, you could hear the addictive tropical house beats blast from the stereo speakers, the occasional lyrics becoming clearer once you reached the hut. You recognise some of the people at the bar as your classmates and you gave them a small wave as a greeting. Some waved back but quickly frowned when they realised who you came with. Guess your bad relationship with Ayeon is still widely remembered by everyone. You heaved a sigh as Ayeon greeted the bartender with a smile and waved them over.

Let’s just survive this conversation, then go get dinner.

You’re broken from your reverie by her question.

“Martini for you?”

“Yes. Lime. Please.”

“One vodka for me, and one lime martini for the lady here. Charge both to my bill.”

You watched as Ayeon passed her black card over and you kept your gaze on her, expecting her to initiate conversation. But she merely glanced at you from the side of her eyes, smirking as she did so.

“You’re in no hurry, right? Let’s enjoy the music and ambience as we wait for the drinks.”

This bitch is playing with me. Fucking hell.

“Sure.”

You kept your voice levelled, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of knowing that your blood was currently boiling inside because of her. Thank goodness Lady Luck was on your side tonight, for the drinks arrived shortly and you resisted the urge to gag when you saw the bartender throw a wink at Ayeon, to which she giggled like some love-struck main in a chick flick. You felt a vessel pop in your temple, and you quickly brought the drink up to your lips, hoping the hot liquid would distract you from that sight.

“Out with it Ayeon. I know you’re not here to enjoy my company. Say your piece, and then we can both part ways.”

“Ouch Rachel, I am hurt.”

You tsked at Ayeon and you saw the shift in her gaze. She released her lips from the rim of the glass cup before turning fully to face you.

“Since you’re so eager to leave, Rachel, I shall cut to the chase. I know about the deal, and I want Brian back.”

Upon hearing her words, you scoffed out loud with your tongue in cheek. The audacity of this bitch to want him back after all the damage she has done. Has she no shame?

“Ayeon, in case your memory fails you, perhaps I should remind you that you’re the one that broke up with first and then publicly humiliated him. After all the damage you’ve wrought on him, you want him back? Your shamelessness is truly astounding. Besides, you can’t just ask for it back. It no longer belongs to you.”

You expected Ayeon to land a harsh slap across your face for insulting you, but she merely pulled her lips back into a smile, showing off her perfectly neat rows of white teeth.

“Oh really? I think it does. Normally I would have taught you a lesson for insulting me but I shan’t waste my energy when I’ve got an easier method to deal with you.”

You watched as Ayeon tapped her phone screen a few times before your phone screen lighted up – as with all your other classmates surrounding you – with a notification from the school app.

You continued to glare at Ayeon. What game is she playing right now?

Ayeon doesn’t waver under your gaze, she merely picked up the stem of her glass delicately before bringing the clear liquid to her lips.

“Check it. I’m sure you’ll be very interested to see it’s content since it involves… a certain… someone.”

The bite in her last word made it clear who she’s referring to and your fingers moved on their own accord to swipe at the notification. A video post with no caption is presented to you and you pressed the play button. The whole video is dark due to poor lighting and you barely make out his figure until the moonlight shone across the planes of his face, illuminating his prominent, handsome nose.

Younghyun… but what the hell… why does he look so dishevelled… and that suit…

You recognised the suit now – it was the one that he wore when he showed up looking all dazed and frightened at your doorstep. The image of his fear-stricken face appeared in the forefront of your mind again, the harrowing image knocking the wind out of you. Audio emitted from your phone speakers again; someone was shuffling offscreen. When you saw her, that’s when you felt the phantom, ice cold hands wrap their fingers around your throat, slowly but surely squeezing the life out of you as it got harder to breathe with each passing second. You’d recognise that pink bubblegum hair anywhere – one that is currently sported by the same lady sitting in front of you in flesh.

The pair in the video was none other than Ayeon and Younghyun, the former whom now had Younghyun pinned against the wall as she aggressively sucked his face. Younghyun had one hand up her thigh, with the other on her lower back. Then, a flash of white hair in the video – Dowoon. Dowoon whom had accidently witnessed this sinful sight that very night. The weight of the truth finally hit you all at once, one that had you stumbling out of your chair as your phone clattered against the glass table top.

So, this was what happened that night. This was what Dowoon was trying to warn me about this entire time. Gosh… I’m such a fool. Younghyun cheated on me. Another guy fucking cheated on me – again. I’m so stupid for believing him… for believing that he loved me.

Against your wishes to not show an ounce of vulnerability in front on Ayeon, your body betrayed you as your throat ran dry, scalding tears already pooling at your lash line. Your grip on your phone is so strong that the screen almost cracked, your nails pierced into the soft flesh of your thigh and drew blood in the process. Ayeon snickered from her spot in front of you, relishing in the sight of your emotional torment. She broke you again – twice now. Oh, just how much more pathetic can you be?

“Like what you see Rachel? Told you his heart still belongs to me.”

Your body felt so weak due to the torrent of emotions currently raging within you – so incredibly weak that you can’t even make a sound to retort Ayeon. Then the sound of a suppressed giggle came from behind you and that has you snapping your head up to look at the person. Your classmate is currently stifling their laughter behind the palm of their hands, the fingers pointed at your pathetic self. More laughter erupted around the bar, some openly jeered at you now. This sort of scene… it’s all too familiar to you.

The canteen.

Jaebeom.

The public breakup.

It’s happening all over again – you’re the prey laid out in plain sight for all the wolves to see, before they closed in to rip you into shreds. Your head rung painfully with their shrill laughter; your heart hammering so painfully hard in your chest that you thought it might shatter your ribs. Your head is jerked back by Ayeon to face her, her perfectly manicured fingers digging viciously into your jaw,

With a sneer, she spat: “Go on, run Rachel. Run like you always do, run like the pathetic creature that you are. That’s what you do best anyways – running from all your problems.”

She then pushed you off to the side, sending you tumbling off the chair. She stopped short of kicking sand into your face – you looked wretched and pitiful enough. She didn’t feel the need to trod all over you again, you’re already doing a good job making yourself look absolutely miserable. Rising on wobbly and unsteady feet, you stumbled out of the bar, moving further away from the group of people that wanted nothing more than to tear you apart.

One step,

Then the second,

And another.

Soon, you’re thundering down the length of the beach, kicking up sand behind you as their laughter got softer and softer,

And then,

Silence.

The quiet static of cricket chirps filled your ears, the sound mixing up with the distant lapping of the waves upon the shore and the rustling of palm trees above you. It was quiet – just you against the world with your broken heart. On a normal night, you would have enjoyed the tranquil atmosphere and view; the stars still looked pretty hanging like shining crystals in the sky but tonight… your soul felt void. Completely drained and sucked dry of every good emotion in this cruel world – you honestly doubted that you’d be able to feel positive emotions after all the turmoil that you’ve gone through in your life, more so after tonight’s events. Younghyun’s cheating incident was really the last push that sent you tumbling over the edge, crashing into a million pieces with no hopes of ever being whole again. No matter how hard you tried, the unwanted images from before refused to leave your mind. Even when you squeezed your eyes shut, the cursed images kept replaying again.

Her lips on his…

His hands on her thighs…

The forsaken clothes on the floor.

One need not be told to know what happened next. The memory sent a shockwave through your body, and you lurched forward violently as your chest caved in on itself, forcing you onto the hard gravel, scrapping your knees and palms in the process. Yet, the physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional turmoil within you. A strangled sob escaped you as the first tears streamed down your face like a thundering waterfall – never ending and soaking your outfit wet. You really did not want to make a fool of yourself and cry in public but you knew you could not keep it in anymore – else the pressure would kill you. So, there in the middle of the street, you wailed as you felt your heartstrings snapped. It was physically possible to die from a heartbreak and for a moment, you considered the possibility that you might. You were not sure how long you cried for – minutes? Hours? Time lost it’s meaning to you. After all – you no longer had an appointment to keep, or a place to be. You cried yourself dry, till you could not physically produce tears anymore. You felt like you were going to pass out any moment, and the first instinct would be to call Esther for help. To talk? To come and get you? Maybe both. You just knew that you wanted your best friend by your side now to hold you and tell you it’s going to be alright – because you no longer had the strength to say those words to yourself – maybe you needed someone to tell you so that you would believe it.

You tapped your phone screen weakly, only to realise that it had been damaged beyond repair during the incident just now. The screen was glitching – now it would be impossible for you to contact Esther. The additional distraught of being left with a damaged phone and no means to contact anyone caused another wave of frustration to bubble up within you and you let out a disgruntled sigh, the sound scratching against your hoarse vocal cords. With blurry vision, you slowly rose from the ground and stumbled forward. You didn’t know where to go – all you knew was that you wanted to go far away – to a place where no one would recognise you, and no one you knew could find you.

Away from Ayeon, away from Younghyun, away from this damned life that you led.

To leave things behind, you’d have to keep moving forward – and so you did. You dragged your limp body forward along the unknown path with no idea where it’ll lead you. Even when you walked right into the middle of the road, you didn’t notice until you saw a burst of light so bright that pain shot right through your eyes as the horrible screeching of tires pierced through the silent night, the smell of burning asphalt making you gag. It took you a few seconds to realise that you nearly got ran over by a car – almost, but not quite. The shock sent you collapsing onto the floor, scrapping your already wounded hands more. Any further abrasions and your skin might just be ripped to ribbons. The headlights of the car were inches from your face and when you lifted your eyes to look at the driver, you aren’t even surprised anymore.

She wanted you dead, maybe she was just making sure of it now. From her seat behind the wheel, Ayeon sneered at you. You’re a pest that just won’t die, constantly interfering in her life and making it difficult for her. And now? You nearly sent her to jail for an almost hit-and-run incident. The bright headlights gave Ayeon a clear view of you and she scoffed. Not only did you feel like a pest, you even looked like one. Disgusting – a creature that no one would want to look at. Your eyes were bloodshot from all the crying; no doubt. Your hair has fallen out of the neat braid it once was in, the strands of hair clinging to your face. Your nice outfit now stained with red, your perfect hands and feet now ruined from the damage you’ve caused yourself. Ayeon always knew you were… pathetic… but she never imagined this level of degradation that you would wreck upon yourself. Ayeon does not have sympathy to help you so she swerved her car and left you in her dust. Someone will pick you up eventually, or you could get run over by another car for real this time – she honestly could care less.

As for you, you just sat where Ayeon had left you, much too distraught to move yourself to a safer place. The world hates me so much, it’s trying to kill me now. It should have just now when it had the chance to. Why am I not dead yet? You chuckled darkly to yourself like a lunatic at your thoughts, pressing your forearm against your face. But the laughter soon gave way to more tears, though you previously thought you were incapable of producing more after crying yourself dry. You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve sat by the side of the road, listening as cars passed you by.

The next time you saw light, Esther’s face was right in front of yours. One look at you, and tears immediately brimmed in her eyes – a rare sight for someone as tough as her.

“Rachel… what happened to you?”

---

The notification appeared on Esther’s phone screen when Jae went to get coconut drinks for them.

Ayeon? What’s the crazy gal up to again? Another video? What is this?

Esther pressed play and by the time Jae returned to her side, her face had turned ashen with her jaws clenched and lips pressed into a thin line.

“Esther? What’s wrong?”

“That bastard. That bastard that we call a friend. He cheated on Rachel.”

Jae nearly dropped the drinks when she turned to face him – never before has he seen such feral rage in her eyes, the fire blazing fiercer with each passing second.

“What are you talking about? What did Brain do?”

“This. This is what he did.”

Esther shoved her phone in Jae’s face and clicked play. Oh, now he knew. Now Jae knew why Esther was going mad with rage. There was no mistake about it – Brian and Ayeon are back together again. And now the whole world knew.

“I need to find Rachel. I need to tell her this before she finds out on her own.”

“Wait Esther, let’s not be brash. What if she’s seen it already?”

“Then all the more I need to be by her side to comfort her. Twice, this has happened to her. She’s gotten her heart broken by jerks that don’t deserve her. I know he’s your friend Jae, but this is where I draw the line. You don’t have to follow me, and I’m sorry but date night will have to wait.”

With that, Esther took off down the length of the beach, racking her brains on places that you might possibly be at. Jae returned the drinks to the stall owner before hollering after Esther, as the stall owner hollered at him to take the money back. She ran to the other end of the beach when she spotted you there. A speck in the middle of the road. That’s you for sure – she’d recognise your favourite sundress anywhere.

“RACHEL!”

Jae thought he would finally be able to catch up with Esther after running for so long, but he only groaned when he saw her picking up speed again. How she coulf outrun him despite all his basketball training still baffled him – he’s truly got one hell of a girlfriend.

When Esther finally got to you, she nearly stumbled back from the shock. Who did this to you? Who reduced you to this weeping, hollow shell of a person that she once knew as her best friend? The wounds – oh gosh the wounds were the worst. Long cuts across your legs and arms, the wounds festered for a long time; she could tell because of the dried blood against your white dress. Some were deep with gravel stuck between the gaping wounds, she could only pray that you would not need stitches but she was not optimistic. But it was your eyes that told your story without words – oh, how could someone’s eyes hold so much sorrow in them? The blood smeared across your face gave you a ghastly look, but it was really the look of anguish in your bloodshot eyes that broke Esther’s heart and forced tears through her eyes.

“Rachel… what happened to you? Who did this to you…that monster! The wounds… they look really bad. You must have been out here for so long so let’s get you to the hospital first alright? Those wounds must be cleaned before it gets infected.”

Esther moved to help you up gently, but you merely gripped onto her shirt tightly, pulling her down to sit beside you.

“It hurts Esther… it hurts…”

“I know Rachel, I know. That’s why we got to get them cleaned alright? Then they’ll hurt less once they’re recovering.”

“Not the… not the wounds. Here. It hurts here. It hurts so much I think I might just die.”

“Where…? Oh, oh no, Rachel please don’t cry. He’s not worth your tears… please don’t cry…”

When Esther finally looked down at you, you weren’t holding onto your wounds in pain like a normal person would. Instead, you were clutching onto your heart, fisting the fabric above that area so hard that you might tear the material at any time. Nothing could compare to the emotional pain that was still wrecking your body at this point in time. Even Jae – whom was watching in the background – felt anger slowly rise within him for the pain his friend had caused you. No one deserved to suffer through this sort of emotional torture. Brian had disappointed him, and all of them. As you continued to sob into Esther’s embrace, Jae’s phone rung in the background.

Brain Kang calling

Not now Brian.

Jae’s phone continued ringing, and when Jae finally lifted his eyes to look at Esther, he knew that she could never forgive him.

“If it’s Brian calling, tell that bastard to get lost, and never appear in front of my sight again. I will rip him to shreds if he does, I could never forgive him for what he had done to her.”

Jae gulped, swiping the red button as the world around you went black.

Like déjà vu, your whole world came crashing down on you.

[ducktracy]

127. i’m a big shot now (1936)

release date: april 11th, 1936

series: merrie melodies

director: friz freleng

starring: n/a

feels like it’s been forever since friz did a merrie melody! fret no longer. he returns with i’m a big shot now—a bluejay robs a bank in tranquil birdville, and the police are hot on his feathers.

open to the bustling streets of birdville, a chipper, easygoing town rife with cheery birds making their rounds. a construction worker bird ties a string to a worm, which is attached to a pulley. tugging on a pulley feeds more string to the worm, who wraps itself around a spindly “base”. in no time, the worm weaves itself a bird’s nest for the bird. elsewhere, a woodpecker hammers away at a long, disturbing a ladybug. the ladybug hops out of a hole and hammers the woodpecker’s beak, wilting it’s point, the bird now stuck.

the birdville bank is as bustling as ever. signs hang on the bank-teller’s desk—“2 1/2 worms interest on all deposits”, and my favorite “save for a rainy day — buy umbrellas”. a bird places a hefty basket full of acorns on the owl bank-teller’s desk, who inspects the goods. they pass muster, and he deposits them away, writing in the bird’s checkbook.

we’ve seen the good side of town. the happy townspeople bustling about, tending to the bird finances and bird relationships. with the good comes the bad—pan over to the seedy side of town. mobsters loiter outside a saloon, a promiscuous woman exiting said saloon, wanted posters up... a great juxtaposition that’s very well executed. we follow a bird into the saloon, where dancing is abundant, everyone not without their cigar and newsboy cap.

focus on a particularly intriguing character, a bluejay propped up against a bar, shifty eyed as he tosses a coin in his hand. a great choice of character design—the natural black markings around the eyes paired with the striped shirt, newsboy cap and cigar certainly make him read as a stereotypical robber. he greets one of his buddies who walks into the saloon before launching into the title song, narrating how he’s abandoned his softie days for the rough and tough lifestyle. he coyly rolls his eyes as he growls the chorus of “baby, and how—i’m the big shot now!” the song is mainly sung in patter song (talking)—it’s a nice touch and the bird is full of personality.

just as he sings about how he can lick those police officers, a cop strolls outside of the saloon and overhears. the bluejay sticks his hand out of the saloon doors and drags the cop inside. offscreen bearing and pummeling, and the disheveled copper is tossed back onto the streets. finally, to celebrate, the bluejay pours himself glass upon glass of whiskey. he slams his fist down on the table, the board propelling the contents into the air. he opens his mouth and catches each gulp, a lovely detail as he suddenly goes back to retrieve one more gulp as you least expect it.

suddenly, inspiration strikes. he meanders over to the saloon doors, and tilts the slots like blinds. he spots the birdville bank just across the street, delighted at the goods that lie inside. it’s fun to see friz play around the typography, the word BANK zooming on screen and dissipating away. the bluejay signals his mobster fellas to follow him. they grin knowingly and nod, one of them shoving away his date in the midst of their dance. fantastic comedic timing as they inconspicuously cross the street, the bluejay whistling “i’m a big shot now” all the way. his cronies stroll into the bank while he slowly settles in, leaning against the exterior wall and tossing his beloved coin...

and a flurry of gunshots and bullets explode into the air, the bluejay unaffected as he keeps an eye out. the timing is perfect and the bluejay’s innocent façade sells the gag perfectly. another one of his buddies pulls up in a car, and the robbers all pile in, including the bluejay. they take off with their souvenirs, their continued gunfire serving as a reminder of their presence as they shoot out the back of the escaping car.

and, of course, the police chase after them right away, officers dangling along after their own car held on merely by hands as they scramble to follow. thus begins a dramatic shootout. the gangsters fire, and a police officer retaliates. he shoots, the impact so strong all of the birds slingshot backwards, held intact by the last bird who’s clutching to the sides of the car. a literal slingshot. the animation is smooth, funny, and captivating. even the exhaust pipe from the gangster mobile fires bullets, highly amusing as the bluejay pops his head out of the exhaust pipe, wielding a gun.

although the chase rages on as we fade out, a news headline pops into view: BANK BANDITS ESCAPE. fade to a telephone pole, a wanted poster of the bluejay plastering his grizzly mug, promising rewards of 500 worms (what an incentive!) zoom in to the offending bluejay admiring his own wanted picture as he’s in the comfort of his own home. laughing heartily and tearing the flyer in two.

he pokes his head out of the birdhouse, asserting the coast is clear. pan down to his car parked at the bottom. a nearby police officer strolls on duty, when he recognizes the car. he summons his brigade of police officers, who are all hiding out in the bushes, behind trees, etc. thus launches another shootout, the bluejay shooting from inside his birdhouse and the cops from outside. the bluejay reduces each of the officers’ hats to mere shreds as he shoots through them like butter. another police officer fires rapidly at the bluejay, the force so strong that he unintentionally buries himself into a man-made hole (an essential looney gag that’s hilarious each time.)

even the bluejay finds the novelty lost in the tedious gun fight, halfheartedly and nonchalantly firing back while flipping his beloved coin. a great detail that’s almost like friz’s way of saying “yeah, this is supposed to be tedious”. almost a tex avery-ism of sorts. the bandit’s indifference is quickly rattled once a bullet pierces a hole through his coin—now full of contempt, he shoots back with rapid fire. a bird fires a rifle from a tree branch, the impact sending him whirling around the branch as he desperately clings on with his talons. birds swoop in like fighter jets and fire at the birdhouse.

a particularly brave bird puffs out his chest and beats it for good measure, giving a good ol’ tarzan yell as he swings from a vine. nice perspective as he swings in front of the house, firing with his gun, then swinging the other way and continuing to shoot. a police car screeches to a halt beneath the house, and one of the cops fires a ton of holes in the floor of the house. in pure looney style, the holes form a circle right around the dumbfounded bluejay, and sure enough he plummets into the police van, where he’s tackled and beaten ferociously as we fade out.

fade back into the local prison, the bluejay now behind bars. he sings more of “i’m a big shot now”, instead altering the lyrics to “i used to be a toughie, but now i’m just a softie.” he flamboyantly poses as he sings about how he’s limited to just a jailbird now, and we iris out as he glumly rests his head on his hand, staring at the outside world he once knew.

a merrie melody that is riddled with more gags than the average friz melody for sure. i loved the character design of the bluejay, a very smart use to manipulate their natural markings like that. he was full of personality and fun to watch, and was definitely the highlight of the short. lots of funny gags, especially the scene where he and his cronies innocently stroll across the street just to shoot up the bank. some of the shootout scenes did run a little long for my tastes (and friz even admits to this as we see with the bluejay’s bored expression as he fires back), but it wasn’t a cartoon that crawled along. it was staged nicely and had a lot of good moments, and because of that it’s worth a watch.

link!

[formalmess]

For Your Entertainment ~ Chapter Three

Summary: Peasley, fearing for Luigi, searches for answers.

Warnings: Gore, Character Death, Murder

“Luigi?!"

He couldn’t feel anything.

“Luigi?!”

He twitched slightly, trying to regain some sense. Everything around him felt muffled.

“Please wake up!"

He was being shaken awake.

“I’m right here, Luigi, I’m right here! It’s okay, please open your eyes…!”

He felt warm arms wrapped around him. He shifted, clutching onto whoever was hugging him, trembling fingers weakly clawing into fabric.

“Luigi…?!”

He murmured something inaudible.

“Luigi! You’re awake!”

“I’m… awake…”

“Don’t push yourself, darling…! It’s okay, I’m here…”

Luigi moved limply, feeling an incredible weight on his entire body, limbs heavy. He tried to speak, but all that came out were broken mumbles and croaks.

He was hugged tighter.

”I’m so, so sorry… I didn’t mean to stay out for so long... I knew I should have come home sooner, I know, and I'm sorry... and I… P-Peach, she... after the meeting, she was so distraught over something and, she had me and a few others help look for her citizens who were missing… and… we must have been out longer than I anticipated, oh, I'm so sorry...!”

Luigi froze, his breath hitching.

“Luigi? Are you alright?”

“It was r-real…”

“What?”

Luigi looked up at Peasley’s face, who was still cuddling him close. Peasley had a concerned expression on his face, questioning Luigi repeatedly about what he meant, but Luigi didn’t respond. His head rolled to the side, examining the environment around him. They were still in the living room.

Luigi shakily pointed to the television, which now showed nothing more than static.

“Did... d-did you watch a scary movie while I was gone? You know you should watch those with me if you really want to…!”

“Tape… box… v-video…”

”What are you talking about?"

All the haunting images came flooding back at once. Luigi felt consciousness threatening to fade as he recalled Toad’s screams for help, the blood… the terrible, horrible laughter…

”T-Toad…”

“Toad? That’s...” Peasley cocked his head to the side, a bit confused. “...That’s the name of the person we were looking for... And his sister, as well… Toadette, was it?”

Without warning, Luigi released a pained sob, burying his face into Peasley’s shoulder.

“Luigi? What’s wrong?”

“Dh... d-dead… Toad… dead…”

“What?! What are you talking about? Luigi, please, I want to understand-!"

”Th… The tape…”

”Luigi, please, calm down, you’re frightening me… if this is a panic attack, I’m right here, Luigi, I’m not going to leave you, I promise, I’m right here-“

“TOAD IS DEAD!” Luigi shrieked, pointing to the television feverishly. He dissolved into harsh, guttural sobs, Peasley shushing him.

”It’s okay, it’s okay… I promise…”

Peasley moved to turn off the television, since it seemed to be causing Luigi so much distress. He didn’t exactly know what was going on, but he assumed it had something to do with the built-up stress from the past week.

Luigi was still repeating the fact that Toad was dead, mumbling the mantra incoherently to himself.

The prince sighed, helping Luigi up to his feet. He escorted the brunette out of the room, Polterpup barking at the pair as they went upstairs, Peasley whispering soothing words of comfort to his husband. “Luigi… It’s okay… I promise you… It’s going to be okay…”

                                          - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It had taken hours for Luigi to calm down.

The two had retired to their bedroom, Luigi having lied down on the bed, trying to get comfortable. He wanted to sleep and be at peace for awhile, but his efforts proved useless. Peasley sat by him the entire night, all throughout Luigi’s whimpers and panicked murmurs, trying to calm him down and soothe his worries.

At one point, Peasley had put a cold cloth on Luigi's head, thinking maybe this could all be a fever-induced delirium. He didn’t show signs of illness, but Peasley didn’t know how else to explain it.

Polterpup lied down beside his owner, Luigi petting the ghostly pup to distract himself as he whimpered and held back tears.

As every minute passed, Luigi began to tire himself out.

Peasley had been tidying up a few things around their bedroom when he heard Luigi go silent before snoring lightly, having finally fallen asleep. He smiled, delivering a small kiss to the resting brunette. He thought about following his lead and getting some sleep himself, but his attention was turned to figuring out exactly what had caused all this.

He crept downstairs quietly, entering the living room and turning the television back on. He certainly wasn’t going to be the first to admit how abysmal he was with handling technology, but he could comprehend it enough to know how to rewind the tape.

He kept his thumb pressed down upon the rewind button on the whirring machine until he heard a click, pushing the play button, albeit hesitantly.

It only took a few passing moments to realize what was wrong, and why Luigi had been so mortified.

Peasley had only seen Toad on a few occasions before, at kart races he spectated or get-togethers Peach planned, but seeing him here was gut-wrenching. He looked so scared.

And the person who was tormenting him was more horrific than he could’ve ever imagined. They weren’t like a horror movie villain, or a fairytale monster as he had pictured them previously in his mind.

They were real, and their enjoyment of the whole macabre situation made Peasley feel light-headed.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. But, he didn’t stop watching. As much as his stomach twisted and his face paled, he knew he had to figure this out, for Luigi’s sake.

The tape showed off the mysterious attacker holding Toad’s head up high with one hand like a trophy, having just decapitated the poor boy's corpse. They scoffed before dropping the rest of his body to the floor casually.

”You weren’t much help for an assistant. I expected more from you.” The speaker’s words were distorted and slightly garbled, but still clear enough to just barely comprehend. ”You perished so quickly, like a candle extinguishing on an eager child’s birthday cake. It's no wonder that practically nobody noticed your disappearance. And rather unfortunate, I must admit.”

Peasley felt a peculiar sensation fill his chest as he watched, as though he’d heard this person’s words, or style of speaking, before somewhere. The way they talked... It seemed oddly familiar.

”The least you could do now is make for a nice decoration.” The figure raised the same blade from before. “You won’t be needing these…”

Without another word, they plunged the knife into the sockets of Toad’s eyes, carving the irises out with the sickening wet sounds of flesh tearing and sclera shredding. When they drew the knife back finally to put their work on display, all that was left on Toad’s face were empty remnants of eyeballs, a dark void left in their place on his skull.

Peasley squeezed his eyes shut, trying to mask his growing horror and urge to just turn off the tape and pretend this was all some nightmare. That is, until the murderer began speaking again.

”Pathetic.”

The killer released a grunt as they tossed the head offscreen like a broken toy, the sound of it hitting the ground with a thud and rolling away still audible.

”I do hope my next assistant will last a little while longer than you… Why, after all, she has been dying to see you... It’ll be a pleasure to reunite you two at long last.”

Peasley felt his chest tighten as the dark figure now turned and approached the camera, a wide disfigured smile planted on their face. And as they approached, Peasley could now make out some of their features despite the dark lighting.

Their face appeared… broken. As though bits and pieces of their skin was missing.

Though, oddly enough, half of their face looked almost split in color. It seemed fitting for a deranged killer to have such an awful makeup job, but the way their face looked was almost too natural. As though they had torn the face off a porcelain doll and attached it to their own.

They were wearing faded clothing, tattered garb draped around their neck by a broken clip that barely functioned. And though the tape recording quality was low, he could make out hints of yellow and violet plastered on the fabric.

As they absently played with the blood stained knife in front of the camera for a few moments, humming sweetly, Peasley could make out the outline of black leather gloves on their hands.

Peasley jumped when the murderer chuckled once more, still spinning the blade in their palms.

”You know who I am, don’t you? You may not want to accept it yet. And that’s perfectly fine.”

They paused for a moment.

”Death is a cruel thing, as you know. But I’ve learned to be a patient man. I have all the time in the world.”

There was the sound of paper crinkling from just off of the side of the camera’s view, the knife being set down.

”You see, I have so many more people to meet with. So many more tricks to put on display. So many more bows to take. And I won’t rest until everyone you love is dead at my hands, as I promised.”

The letter.

Peasley instantly knew how he'd recognized the style of speech now. The theatrical tone of voice. The delight. That was him. He’d sent it. He hadn't been lying at all.

He was deadly serious.

”Until next time...”

He looked up, staring straight at the camera lens with a crooked smile on his face, one glaring yellow eye visible in the static.

"Ciao~!"

Click.

The screen went black, leaving Peasley to stare at his own horrified reflection upon a layer of static.

Acting hastily and without thinking, he practically tore the tape out of the player, tearing the insides out and throwing the remaining broken cassette away. He turned off the television and backed away, shaking his head. He started back toward the stairs with hurried feet.

He never thought this could happen.

He never thought that someone out there could be this awful… to Luigi, of all people!

Luigi didn’t have enemies, except a few jerks who occasionally picked on him. He certainly didn't have enemies that were murderers, swearing vengeance on his very livelihood, threatening his friends and family!

Peasley truly didn’t know what to believe anymore.

He rushed back upstairs to ensure Luigi was still okay, and to his relief, nothing had changed since he went downstairs. Luigi was sound asleep, snugly cuddled up in the covers, holding the thick duvet close to his chest and breathing softly.

Peasley exhaled, shutting the door behind him. And though there was no present reason to, he locked it.

He sat down beside Luigi, gently running a hand through his husband's hair. Peasley's thoughts were clouded, still trying to figure everything out. He needed answers. And to get that, he needed some help from Luigi. Especially since the murderer seemed so sure that Luigi would know exactly who he was…

Luigi shifted gently, whimpering short phrases and whining in his sleep, his soft breaths increasing to panicked mumbles.

Peasley held onto his hand tightly, hoping the bad dream Luigi was facing would subside.

He didn’t want him to have to wake up into facing another nightmare.

[starlight-ascension]

image description under the cut

(Image Description: the image is titled “Mid-Season Redemption Arcs” and consists of 6 captioned pictures. 

The first picture is captioned “what my comrades think I do” and contains a girl next to a human-shaped figure with “sense & the mission” written on it. The girl is letting go of the figure’s hand and looking in the direction of another girl surrounded by sparkles and wearing a tiara and a ruffled dress. 

The second picture is captioned “what my superiors think I do” and contains a line chart titled “Loyalty Chart”. The chart has 3 sections. the one at the top is titled “good”, the middle one is titled “shaky/unsatisfactory” and the bottom one is titled “kill her”. The line is shaky and jagged and starts at “good” before progressing to “shaky/unsatisfactory”, occasionally going back up before dipping back down. 

The third picture is captioned “what society thinks I do” and consists of a girl on her knees, with running mascara marks under her eyes, messed-up hair, and bandages on her arms. She is surrounded by broken bottles, the remains of shredded and shattered items, and a single picture of a girl with pigtails and puffed sleeves. The room has dark/poor lighting, a shredded curtain, and deep scratch marks on the walls and floor. 

The fourth picture is captioned “what the PreCures think I do” and consists of a teen reaching towards something offscreen. The teen is saying that she must kill the PreCures she is talking to, however, her eyes contain the word “HELP”. 

The fifth picture is captioned “what I think I do” and consists of a girl tearing at her hair with running mascara marks under her eyes. On the wall behind her is a large amount of pictures stuck to the wall with tacks and connected to each other with string. The images contain things such as writing with quotation marks (intended to be things someone said), emotion faces, angry villain boss imagery, a pie chart, a timeline, hearts (always with question or quotation marks), images of a girl in a ruffled dress and hair accessories, and images of the girl who connected all these pictures, among other things. All these images are connected to a central image containing three large question marks. 

The sixth picture is captioned “what I actually do” and consists of 2 teens hanging out. One teen is smiling excitedly with sparkling eyes, and is wearing pigtails and a dress. The other teen is wearing sunglasses and a plain shirt. The teen with sunglasses is connected to a thought bubble containing the words “Day 69. She doesn’t suspect a thing.” 

For clarification in case you’re confused, the context here is the Pretty Cure franchise. 

End image description.)