#the only chapter with some actual narration

[salty-an-disco]

I actually have a little something for that!!

here's some bits of dialogue I wrote for fun for the Spectre equivalent, aka 'The Killer':

(you get to this route similarly to how you get Tower in the OG game, by attacking after hesitating/talking to the princess. but here, it leaves you a bit spiteful at failing to kill Royal, while it makes Royal quite full of themself for killing their assailant so easily)

—

Royal: You again. What a pleasant surprise.

Adventurer: Is it?

R: Of course. Sitting here in this dingy old basement while waiting for something to happen is so boring. I almost regretted killing the only person to ever appear.

A: Almost, huh? What happened after I died?

R: You fell. Thunk. Quite anticlimactic, if you ask me. I expected more from the person that came in intending to kill me.

A: I was taken by surprise!

R: You came down with a knife in hand and somehow you were taken by surprise? What an assassin they sent after me.

—

R: But if you're here to try to kill me again, then go ahead. I already saw what happens when I kill you, after all.

A: You're a freak, you know that?

R: Flatterer.

—

[from much earlier in the chapter–]

Voice of the Hero: Did I hear that right? We– phased through the cabin door?

Narrator: That's– That it is what I said, isn't it? Must've been just a turn of phrase. Yes, that's what it is. In you're rush to get to the cabin, it was as if you simply phased through the cabin door.

Vot Hero: Uhum.

I have fallen into the swap au trap

Narrator got the fledgling gods mixed up. Putting Change in the role of the hero (making her 'The Adventurer'), and Stagnation in the role of princess ('The Royal'). And because none of the echoes have reason to believe anything is amiss, they still proceed with the script as usual, guiding the Adventurer into slaying the Royal to stop the end of the world.

some scattered thoughts copy-pasted from discord under the cut:

– Shifty still has Hero with her because he's the representation of choice here, and she's the one making choices in this AU, but that's the only voice she ever has besides Narrator. Quiet still get to be a stuffed clown car in person form, cuz she still can't really change herself

– the main gimmick is that Adventurer will slowly change as she makes choices and/or react to Quiet/Narry

for example, as soon as she decides to take the knife or not, she'll either become 'sharper' or 'softer' (smth Hero notices, and maybe even Echo describes)

and as this keeps happening, Echo may eventually realize who she actually is and freak out. Saying she's a monster, that she tricked him into putting her in the hero's shoes, etc etc etc

and it's usually in that moment that the Adventurer will fully transition into whatever identity will be predominant in Chapter 2

for example, I have this idea of Royal, seeing the Adventurer acting weird because of the Echo, and acting outta fear to stab her in the back and run away, and that's how we get Witch

– Hero being with Shifty here means he's more like her than like Quiet, so he also changes slightly to accommodate to her new personality

tho when Narry freaks out, he gets very confused and a bit caught up on the "Wait…… so– we're not a hero?" thing to help much

tries to make up for it in most chapter 2's by promising to make sure Narry doesn't pull anything like this again

[kpujing]

• 801 DAYS | BTS JIN AU •

AU where Jin has a girlfriend, and she has a breakdown after finding out he's going to mandatory military service... and still didn't ask her to marry him.

Portuguese version | English version

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Original Character

Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Lovers [little bit of Enemies], a tiny sprinkle of angst ((cause I HATE sadness))

A/N: Just me writing fanfic about dating my UTT [and having a mental breakdown over him going to military service]. Chapters are really short cause 1. This was written for Twitter and 2. I didn't get to the point of building up a more intricate narrative over the original plot, although I had some ideas for it.

Originally posted on Twitter, but I'm from Brazil, and since the app is indefinitely banned in my home country I'm posting it here too...

Previous | Chapter 18 | Next

Healing a Broken Heart

Hoseok and Jimin are on an emergency operation to try helping Aurora win over her sadness, but nothing seems to do the trick. Thankfully, Seokjin knows exactly what to do to be forgiven by his girlfriend...

— Alright, who wants brigadeiro? — Hoseok asked, trying to lift the mood in Aurora's apartment living room.

He and Jimin were set on keeping her company and, ignoring her protests, they rang her doorbell soon after the argument in group chat had ended.

The situation couldn't have been more discouraging. The girl had her face extremely swollen and red - a clear evidence of how much she'd cried -, and her humor was grumpy to a point there wasn't even a small semblance to their usually lovable and energetic friend they'd always been so used to.

— You don't know how to make brigadeiro, Hoseok — Aurora retorted, all curled up under a blanket while sitting beside Jimin on her couch and pretending to be entertained with a random program playing on her television.

— Ow Sunshine! I really didn't need that kind of criticism right now — he whined with a pout, still Aurora didn't show any reaction to it.

Hoseok and Jimin exchanged a glance.

— Rora... — Jimin tried, rubbing her shoulder gently. -- You know we're here just to keep you company, right? There's no need for you to attack us like that.

— I know... Sorry, Hobi — the girl muttered, sniffling and hiding her face under the blanket to try to ignore her friend's worried gaze. — I'm really not in the mood for anything right now...

— It's worse than we imagined — whispered Jimin, moving away from the girl and closer to Hoseok with a nervous expression. -- I don't think we'll be able to solve this, hyung.

— She denied brigadeiro, Minie... She NEVER says no to brigadeiro — the Jung answered, trying to keep his voice low enough for the girl not to be able to hear it. — I don't know what to do!

— Don't worry, I do -- they heard a low and slightly hoarse voice, startled they turned around to find Seokjin standing right behind them, holding food boxes. While both friends were focused on the girl depressed on the couch, neither of them heard the sound of the apartment door opening or the not-so-subtle noise of the brief stumble that almost made all the boxes the Kim carried fall to the ground.

— Hyung! — the younger ones, still surprised by his presence, exclaimed. Split between celebrating Aurora's boyfriend's arrival and kicking him out of the apartment for hurting her.

— Aurora's not good, hyung. She's sad with you. I don't know if you being here is a good idea right now — Jimin soon took the lead, voicing the feelings he'd noticed on his friend while following the Kim to the kitchen.

— I know, Jiminie — he muttered after a deep, heavy sigh, having put the packages he'd bought over the table. -- But I don't think keeping a distance right now will be good for both of us or our relationship.

— You're right — Hoseok barged into the conversation before Jimin could bring up his point of view once again, knowing well how he's friend, empathic as he was, had already taken their friend's pain to himself and now voiced them as if they were his own. — We're gonna leave you two to talk and solve this out. But please, hyung, be careful about what you're gonna say to her.

And so, Hoseok and Jimin - the latter, still a bit reluctant - left the apartment, giving Seokjin some privacy to solve his relationship problem.

Still, Seokjin had his doubts about how effective his plan would be, given that, knowing Aurora as he did, it was obvious that his decision to hide the information about his military service had hurt his girlfriend.

He walked out of the kitchen and closer to the couch as silently as possible, feeling his heart tighten from knowing the small rumble of blankets over the furniture was his girlfriend. There were very few times Aurora had felt sad or hurt to the point of letting that influence her humor, and from those few ones it had indeed happened, Seokjin felt his heart tightening knowing the only thing he’d be able to do for his love was tightly embracing her in his arms to try and protect her from a feeling he had no power over. But now things were different.

Aurora was crying because of him.

Carefully, Seokjin knelt in front of the rumble the blankets formed and lifted them slowly, revealing her swollen and flushed red face from crying. He smiled, incapable of stopping himself from admiring how beautiful and adorable was the girl who held his heart, but his smile also had this hint of melancholy that he couldn’t get rid of before being able to explain and show her how much he regretted being the cause of her tears.

His hand, soft and trembling as if he was afraid the girl would vanish in thin air, made its way to a lock of her hair that rested over her forehead, moving it away from her face. Knowing well, that would be enough to pull her out of her sleep - although he suspected she wasn’t even actually sleeping. He felt his heart racing against his chest once her eyelids lazily lifted, giving space for her dark brown iris to focus on him with that warmth he was so familiar with, although also carrying this cold glare that made his throat dry out.

— I hope you’re the Seokjin of my dream, cause if you’re the real Seokjin, you better get out of my house right now… Before I go grab a broom to kick out of here myself — Seokjin couldn’t hold back his smile as he heard those rough and threatening words that rang in his ears in a rather adorable way.

Once more, he realized how lost and fated he was towards spending all the time Aurora would let him love her, or he’d be forced to resign to an eternity craving for her heart.

— If you really wanted to kick me out, you’d have done it the moment I opened the door… And I thought I was already the Seokjin of your dream — he teased, laughing as he watched the girl roll her eyes around with a scoff, not truly seeming to be that bothered.

— You are… Just not when you hide things you know are important to me and that obviously affects both of us.

— I didn’t hide anything from you, my love!

— But you didn’t tell me either!

— I didn’t get to!

— Why not? We tell each other everything! Did I give you any reason not to trust me?

— That’s not the point!

— Did I stop you from telling me?

— No!

— Then why-

— I got scared, ok?! I got scared that you’d give up on me!

They halted, staring at each other with eyes watering up. The silence seemed to form a lump in their throats, and Seokjin thought for a moment he had said too much.

— I love you.

It was so simple and at the same time, it seemed like the whole world had faded away. Seokjin always loved how Aurora was so soothing by always knowing the right time to say just the right things. Sometimes he thought this was one of the greater reasons he had fallen in love with her.

— And sometimes swear I wish I didn’t love you this much — she whined, making him smile when she unconsciously pouted.

— And sometimes swear I get surprised from not knowing I can't still love you even more than I already do — he answered, feeling pulled into the warmth in her eyes.

— I don’t know why you felt the need to be scared, but at least I hope you get once and for all that there’s not even the slight possibility I’ll give up on you. Not even if you give up on me. You wanted to date me, now it’s for the rest of our lives, Seokjin — Aurora pointed her finger against his chest, they were so close he was sure she could hear the quick thumping of his heart.

He felt the need to kiss her, but still needed to be sure he’d been forgiven first.

— Please forgive me.

— I do forgive you — Aurora muttered, her eyelashes slowly brushing over her skin before her eyes stared back into his. Seokjin gulped, knowing her next words would seal out his destiny for the rest of the night. — But you better cook for me every day until you have to go, got it?

And so he smiled, a sided grin that brought with it a thousand promises from a man completely surrendered to love.

— Your wish is my command, my lady.

Previous | Chapter 18 | Next

[shy-sapphic-ace]

Ok ok so here's my casting for my Robin Hood mechanisms AU (+ some random ideas!)

Robin Hood: Gunpowder Tim (she/her)

Maid Marian: The Toy Soldier (she/her)

Prince John: Jonny D'Ville (he/him) (yes I made Jonny play a guy named John) (he'll probably only be referred to as "the prince")

The Sheriff: Marius von Raum (he/him)

Friar Tuck: Ashes O'Reilly (they/them)

Little John: Drumbot Brian (he/him)

Will Scarlet: Ivy Alexandria (he/she)

And I have a few random ideas for songs or stories, with the intro narration called 'The Highwayman' the next song called Merry Men and then the next narration is 'The Maid Marian' and the next song is Lady Love and it's all abt how Robin and his wife love each other very very much (think like Blood and Whiskey), somewhere I'll have the sheriff and the prince sing a gay little villain song, there will also be a part called 'The Heist' where the merry men plan out a heist to steal from the prince and then their daring escape, near the end there will be the whole contest thing where Robin disguises himself to win the archery contest and gets the prize, and at the end the last narration will be 'The Hospital' or something where the nurse who is actually evil (or something, I'm pretty sure) doesn't treat him right and the last song will be Robin singing to Little John about his end and the song will probably be called Where the Arrow Lands (bury me where the arrow lands, my loyal friend / how tragic, how sad, that it's come to an end) (or something like that I'll work on it) AND THEN HE DIES IN HIS ARMS OOOH SO TRAGIC

Yeahh and I'll have to go re-read the lyrics on the mechs' songs because their style of rhyming is different from what I usually use when writing songs so I'll have to change up my style a bit. (I think they write rhymes a/a/b/c/b or a/b/a/a/b something?? idk I've only really listened but I always write a/a/b/b)

Last thing, this miiight be called "In The Woods Of Nottingham" but the title is a work in progress

Sorry if this is kind of a mess, that's just how my brain feels right now I just Need to get some words down or I might explode

[szkicel]

so like 2 days ago I finally read one of the comics I bought blind a while ago with comics that I was actually looking for.

anyway Rat Queens is just mid, if not below average. I wrote a rant/review about it but before i finished it I realised this title is just not worth it lmao

After I read it I only wanted to start reading Dungeon Meshi so I can read sth actually good tbh and maybe i’ll sit down to do it today kjhkjh

[maxime-damian]

thinking about my oc’s parents… thinking about the hershkovich family… oughhhhh

[quicksilversnails]

It's so fun how the Princess and the Dragon acknowledges and plays with game mechanics that are assumed to be non-diegetic, and uses them to add insight to the story/characters.

The title card is a really obvious example, being something that TLQ actually sees and can comment on, and something that the Princess hadn't ever seen. What most would assume is just a framing device for the player is a real element of the world/construct.

I think it emphasizes how the story that the Narrator constructed is only "meant" to be told to TLQ. After all, The Narrator only appears in TLQ's mind, providing elaborate descriptions and attempting to contextualize the events of the game as a heroic task to save the world. Meanwhile the Princess is all alone, with no title cards or exposition, no context for why any of this is happening to her. The story revolves around her, but it doesn't care about her beyond her designated role, as something to be slain and hated. Her perspective is irrelevant to the Narrator's plan, so she doesn't get the fancy presentation or necessary context: she doesn't deserve it.

There's also those long stretches of dialogue where the voices talk to each other in TLQ's mind without progressing the story. They're occasionally acknowledged by the Princess elsewhere (Prisoner, Nightmare) but P&tD makes it very explicit and confirms that time is actively passing during these conversations, with TLQ staring in silence for who knows how long.

(Personally I don't think all of the voice dialogue is necessarily in real time, if only because some Princesses wouldn't have had the patience for it. Like if you had really stood still for that long, the Beast would've definitely eaten you... she's not waiting for you to finish thinking lol)

This one I think is more for humour, but it also draws attention to how much of the inner conversation the Princess is missing in normal chapters, when the voices aren't actively speaking to her through TLQ's body. Where we're having vibrant debates or key information revealed by the Narrator, she just sees a silent, staring figure. Speaking of the Narrator, He's completely absent from the Princess' POV, either because He doesn't want to speak to her or is somehow unable to (He does say in Tower that she's not supposed to be able to interact with Him...) Again, the story was not made to be told to her, so she isn't given His context, and because the player is usually so immersed in TLQ's perspective, they probably wouldn't realize just how much she's missing until they see things from her perspective.

One other example: if you choose to [Say nothing] immediately after you excise yourself, the Princess reacts to it:

I just find this so hilarious tbh, and the fact that she repeats back those exact words implies that she literally senses the text written in brackets. If you do it once you're back in the basement, she says this:

I wonder if it's the same for the Narrator/voices... do they also “feel” your actions while you’re choosing them? Do they hear you say (Lie) before you lie? When Skeptic said "Wink" out loud did he actually choose a dialogue option with [Wink] in brackets?? Ok that last one's a joke but there's lots of potential here

I just think it's cool because the average player wouldn't think twice about any of these things, because they seem like simple stylistic/game design choices. In a game where all player input is through dialogue options, the square brackets are an immediately understandable way to convey action, as opposed to plain text. In a game structured around repeating loops, it makes sense to make those loops distinguishable for players by separating each loop with a title card, and the chapter naming convention works as a nod to the fairytale storybook aesthetics the game draws from.

But by placing you into the Princess's head and acknowledging those design choices as diegetic elements that change depending on your perspective, it forces you to reevaluate your experiences: the things you didn't think were really "part of the game" and the experiences you didn't realize weren't universal. It exposes your hidden privileges, the luxuries and structural supports you have compared to the Princess that you don't even notice because you've never experienced the alternative.

It might make you realize how the way you perceive and conceptualize the world might be very different from how others conceptualize it (Tony's recent ask about the multicoloured glass in HEA could also play into this in a fascinating way, with the mismatch in perception between TLQ and the Narrator's script). It's all just very cool for a game that's based on perception.

It also makes me wonder... what other elements of this game are diegetic that we just haven't paid attention to?

Well, I think that the captions are probably also diegetic. TLQ occasionally refers to the voices by their complete titles despite them not ever referring to each other by those titles, instead opting for descriptors like "jumpy one" or "the worst one" or "rage boy" or "chilly little freak" lol. For a direct comparison, Paranoid exclusively calls Smitten "the lovesick one" or some variant in HEA, but TLQ refers to him by his full name using quotation marks, as if he's quoting something he's read:

The voices don't seem aware that these titles exist, while TLQ does, despite them sharing a mind. Also, when the Princess shares a body/mind with you, she never uses their titles either. In the Spectre/Princess and the Dragon, she calls Hero "the nice one", Cold "the quiet one" or "cold little freak", and the Narrator "the bossy one" or "that murder-happy know-it-all". Spectre describes the voices as shards of broken glass on the floor, so she likely perceives them completely differently to how we/TLQ see them.

Even The Narrator isn't aware of His title. If you call Him that in the mirror conversation, He says "'The Narrator'. I suppose that's my job, isn't it?", reacting to the title as if it's His first time hearing about it. There's also this question from the fourth Shifty encounter:

It seems like the titles are presented specifically for The Long Quiet/decider, and that they somehow reflect how TLQ perceives the voices/Narrator, since TLQ takes credit for "calling him" that. If the captions were specifically shown to TLQ in the same way that the title cards are, it'd explain how he has this information without it ever being verbally told to him, and why the Princess doesn't know their titles even when she's sharing your body.

But besides the captions, I think it could be fun to interpret the game as if most, if not all of its game mechanics exist in-universe. The choice menu, the music, the cursors, the save/load icons, saving/loading in general, the title screen, the Clown Princess living in the walls (game files), you name it. Let’s peel away these game mechanics cell by cell! Let's see what meaning we can find together, let's see what we're made of!

[orphiclovers]

Actually I'm not done talking about yoohankim's awful digital footprint pre-scenarios. Kim Dokja gets a lot of flack for being chronically online and cringe and that's fair enough but let's just acknowledge that neither Yoo Joonghyuk or Han Sooyoung are ANY better.

For Han Sooyoung it's obvious. Despite having her own sucessful webnovel, presumably with fans who support her, she gets obsessed with her one hater who thinks she is a plagiarist, finds the "original" novel where this guy was the only commenter on every chapter, and instead of reading her own comments she spends her time reading HIS and imagining he's saying that about her writing. She does this for years. DERANGED BEHAVIOUR. Pre-scenarios Han Sooyoung has no excuse to be acting this crazy. Sent to internet jail for being weird online.

1863rd Han Sooyoung. Automatically get a pass to act unhinged bc after going through the apocalypse that's just expected and also the only person she talks to for 13 years is Kim Dokja and a creepy old man who calls her god, BUT. That being said she's a perfectly average and healthy internet user! Spends literally every waking moment writing a shitty webnovel so hard pieces of her soul chip away and infuse in it, sure, but she doesn't bother anyone, just does her own thing, posts the chapters and occasionally chats with her one commenter. The most normal one here. Somehow.

Kim Dokja. Big fan of a webnovel and can get intense about it sometimes, starts fights online defending his fave character, recommends the same novel so much he gets banned from forums, whatever. WE'VE ALL BEEN THERE IS WHAT IM SAYING. This is nothing too crazy, only about the level of an average fandom superfan. Uses his real name online which is certainly a choice but some people do that in real life too. Giving him a pass, I was also a cringey emo teen on the internet once. (and im still cringe and emo)

Yoo Joonghyuk as seen in Yoo Mia side story. Absolutely glued to his phone. He checks it while eating breakfast, while in the car being driven to work, while literally walking down the street so that Yoo Mia has to tell him to put it away and hold her hand! He is basically addicted to reading hate comments about himself. In his narration he mentions that there are only a few regulars in the forums he lurks in and that he recognizes all their usernames, accidentally revealing that he's in too deep and officially lost in the sauce. Even his manager tells him he should stop reading the comments because they clearly upset him, but he justifies it to himself by thinking quote, "If someone has a grudge against him, he just needs to be prepared to face that hatred. Then everything is under his control."  That last line especially is such a cope, and reveals that this behavior is another one of his desperate attempts to feel in control of his life, and as pathetic as that is and as much as I feel sympathy this is being weird online and I'm sending him to Internet jail.

Bonus round: Secretive Plotter. Need I say anything. Absolutely glued to his phone AGAIN, no it doesn't make it better that sometimes it's his kkomas instead of him. Canonically has a bound book of every single comment Kim Dokja ever left on WOS, printed out, which is more freak mode than even Han Sooyoung went. Straight to jail.

[fushiglow]

Gojo cares a lot, actually

Perspective and empathy in Jujutsu Kaisen

Once again, I see accusations that Gojo only cared about people in relation to their strength. I can't believe that 236 and 261 haven't put this idea to bed already, but let's go over it again for the class. Here are some thoughts on the importance of perspective and empathy in JJK. Spoilers for chapter 266 ahead!

In 236, Gojo tells Geto he loves everyone. This single line, direct from the man's mouth, should be enough. However, moments later, Nanami says, "You never cared about protecting people". So why do some readers only take one of these perspectives at face value?

Perspective matters in JJK. Often, characters and even the narrator state things that are only true from their perspective in a given moment. What you choose to believe says more about you than it does about them — an idea I explored in my analysis of 236.

This is particularly important when it comes to Gojo and Megumi, because the moment they meet is the only (?) scene in the whole of JJK that we get to see from two perspectives.

The second time, the reader understands the emotional weight of it for Gojo — but Megumi doesn't. He's kept in the dark, so of course he thinks about their meeting in different terms.

Once again, whose perspective are we going to take at face value? From Megumi's point of view, he wasn't offered a choice. From Gojo's point of view, he extended to a child the little agency available to him.

Offering a choice is something Gojo does consistently throughout JJK — pick your hell. It's one of the ways he shows care for others that goes unrecognised, so it's ironic that readers and characters alike misinterpret it for a lack of empathy. However, this is no coincidence.

For much of the series, Gege keeps Gojo at a narrative distance from the reader. Most of what we know about Gojo comes from what other characters tell us, and our view of him is therefore coloured by their perspective.

However, while Gojo laments the distance between himself and others, he fails to recognise that he's the one maintaining it — and not because of his strength or his technique. He has admirable goals, but he chooses to work towards them alone.

There are many occasions where characters reach for Gojo, but he refuses to let them past his metaphorical Infinity out of a sense of duty and perhaps misplaced belief that he alone can or should bear this heavy burden.

All of Gojo's actions are about preserving the humanity of others at the expense of his own. That's precisely why he chooses to become the "monster" alone. In this way, Gojo is flawed but he isn't uncaring. Again, it's a matter of perspective.

Gojo sees strength as the solution because it's all he's ever known. However, recognising the strength of others doesn't mean that's all he sees — because Gojo knows that dehumanisation acutely. What's more, 261 also suggests he thinks of "strength" in different terms to others.

When they meet, Gojo tells Megumi not to get left behind. However, he later says he was "left behind" when Geto defected. We know Gojo's physical strength eclipsed Geto's, yet Gojo only refers to himself as "the strongest" alone after Geto dies.

Before that point, there's nothing in the text to suggest that Gojo ever stopped thinking of the pair of them as "the strongest" — as a unit, as a duo. This suggests that strength, for Gojo, is something much more intangible, much more sympathetic, and much more human too.

What do the strongest characters in JJK all have in common? Indomitable will, courage in their convictions, an overwhelming sense of self. Looking at strength through this lens shines a new light on Gojo's goal of raising "strong" allies.

When he forces a third option in Shibuya, Gojo proves that strength doesn't have to come at the expense of compassion. In the later chapters of the Shinjuku Showdown arc, Yuta, Yuji, and the rest of Gojo's allies reinforce that idea ten times over, and I have every belief that Megumi will soon do the same.

To suggest Gojo only saved Megumi for his technique is unfair when he has consistently proven himself committed to protecting the futures of others, even "weak" non-sorcerers who have nothing to offer him. Once again, it's all a matter of perspective.

Gojo's way of caring is still caring, even if it doesn't look familiar to you. His only flaw was closing himself off from others and choosing to care from afar. However, just like Gojo never stopped reaching for Geto after he left, Gojo's allies never stopped reaching for him.

There's a phrase we use to describe looking at things from another perspective: putting yourself in someone else's shoes. I think it's very telling that Gojo's allies have taken that literally — Yuta by stepping into his skin, and Yuji by standing in his place in 266.

TL;DR: Gojo cares a lot, actually. If Gojo talking about his innermost feelings can't make you empathise, and the students he supposedly "doesn't care about" recognising his burdens can't make you empathise?

Well, that says far more about you than it does about him.

Come read my fics about this!

In His Shadow explores the ways Gojo keeps his distance from Megumi, who isn't equipped with the tools he needs to reach him but finds his own ways to show he cares, born from ten years of history together.

Rivers Crossed, Mountains Scaled explores Gojo and Megumi's relationship through the vehicle of SatoSugu — why Gojo took him in, whether Gojo really gave him a choice, how Gojo sees him.

Hope you enjoyed the post! I love you, Gege Akutami ♥️

[riacte]

Unconventional format / mixed media / meta / epistolary fic ideas:

Script format but the characters slowly break fourth wall until they grow self aware and scream to leave but the script confines them.

Mock up notes of an author's fic outline only for a "fan favourite" / "author's darling" character to gain sentience and influence the story. The character changes the outline to suit their own agenda, and their changes are marked with a different colour whereas black text means it's the author's will. Maybe another character using another colour gains sentience. The different colours fight for dominance. Mom says it's my turn with the keyboard hey what the fuck man excuse me I'm literally trying to save my family can you guys let go and let me write your character arcs in peace OH FUCK OFF

Recipe fic. The story is told via those unnecessarily long backstories on a recipe blog in which you learn about someone's grandma or a breakup or literally anything. Bonus points if the actual recipe deals with worldbuilding (what ingredients are available? What utensils are used? How to serve this meal? Woohoo Dungeon Meshi) or in-cheek recipes (eg. "Recipe for making up with your estranged mother - Step 1: Mix patience, nostalgia, and filial piety and let it marinate for ten years. Step 2: Throw that shit into the trash because you're better than that")

Travel fic. A character is lost and trying to find their way somewhere. GPS directions, googling "x place to x place", tickets and dates, train station maps, leaflets. It gets weirder and weirder. You never get closer to your destination. You're walking around in circles. It's always 10 meters away. Where are you going and where have you been?

Receipts. Try to infer what a character is doing judging from the weird things they buy together. Also yipppee inflation tracker. On the other side, maybe it can be about a cashier/ shop owner getting to know their customers and what they order.

Written from the pov of an non-native English speaker, all the English words are italicized whereas their native tongue are the only words not italicized. Inspired by Kupu rere kē by Alice Te Punga Somerville. This is because I got salty about people from Ao3 Reddit saying they won't read a fic in all italics.

Murder mystery / "Among Us" style impersonation fic strictly using the chatfic format. Characters and readers will have to figure out which character has been killed and replaced from the way they text and use emojis. This is also because I got salty about Ao3 Reddit being a wee bit pretentious about emoji usage in fics. Maybe emojis can be important plot devices! Some people prefer to sign off messages with a heart emoji of their signature colour, so won't it be weird if they use another coloured heart? How about someone using lapslock suddenly using proper capitalisation and full stops? Can you tell if someone's phone has been stolen? What if someone's mother is pretending to text like their child? Why is someone suddenly only using UwU speak? Is it a bit, or have they been replaced?

Innocuous second person POV until the last line where it's suddenly revealed to be first person POV all along and the "I" has been stalking and narrating "you".

Other fun bits / Easter eggs / secrets to hide:

Decoding within the text itself. Maybe we get given instructions to find a word in x chapter on page y on the nth line. And when we as readers collect all the words, they form a sentence that spells out an important fact which the characters are oblivious to. Or maybe the in-universe characters find a book with the same title as the irl fic with a bookmark in it, and if you go to where the bookmark is stuck irl, you'll find the murderer plainly stated. The rest of the fic is about the readers having hard confirmation of who the murderer is while characters don't know.

A phrase is subtly repeated throughout the text of the fic and is spelled out with the letter that begins a sentence. It gives off the effect that the narrator is screaming and crying into the void (to the readers in the fourth wall) while trying to avoid detection. Bonus points if the same word is repeated for pages and pages to the point the lack of sentence variation feels weird and clunky.

Morse code!! I love morse code! Using onomatopoeia to convey the dots and dashes! The sound of rain pattering on the tin rooftop— drop, drop, drop. A low whistle of a train rumbling in the distance. He slowly sharpens his knife, creating a shiiing sound. A lengthy, high pitched squeal from his kettle. A dog barks. A sharp knock. His heart thumps. Dot dot dot, dash dash dash, dot dot dot. SOS. Maybe a character's death scene spells out the name of their mysterious murderer. Maybe a character is reminiscing their deceased loved one and the scene spells out what the deceased person would've wanted to tell them— "LIVE ON" or "I LOVE YOU" or something.

[jinxed-newyork]

SMOKE & FOG

0.2 The Last Drop

pairing: jinx x reader (romantic), reader x Isha (siblings), reader x Sevika (platonic) 

synopsis: Your injury has led you to the one person you swore you could never trust again. A traitor who has never brought you any good and only harm decides to patch you up but with any good deed comes a price. The only question is will this lead to your sister or just more terror? 

word count: 4.8k

warnings: unreliable narrator (reader), morally gray actions from narrator (reader), villainous activity, murder, oppression, mistreatment, blood & gore, hurt/comfort, drugs & drug use, PTSD, canon violence, suggestive themes, angst, (arcane season 2) spoilers, cursing, fighting, mental illnesses, degrading language towards characters and about characters, indirect Maddie Nolan slander, Caitlyn Kiramman slander 

A/N ; most underlined things have a song that go with them that I highly reccommend you listen to , to get the feel/vibe of what's happening ! the same thing applies for the first chapter but I forgot to tell you . also you guys should send me requests for other things you wanna see me write about while you're waiting on a new chapter.

My legs could only carry me so far, my stomach felt like my insides were seconds away from spilling out. The blood dribbling down my arm made a path no matter where I went, it was sickening, like a retelling of my crimes even though I couldn't remember them. I could hear their cries and screams in the back of my head, but not what led up to them. Grown men’s cries of pain and sorrow wasn’t something that I was used to, I was always the one in pain, the one being kicked into the ground and abused until that got their sick fill of my defeat. I couldn’t cough up any blood, the injury wasn’t deep enough to ruin me but it still felt like it was. I was so worried about Isha but I could feel my body starting to slow, I could feel myself losing it ever so slowly, I went to the only place that I could find. The Last Drop.

This used to be a place of solace and safety, one ran by Vander, the symbol of peace in this lowly town, no matter what he would always be able to cheer you up and now it was overrun by Silco’s old men however one of them was my saving grace. “Sevika!” A tortured cry escaped my throat along with her name. She had to be here, I couldn't hold myself up any longer so she said had to be here. “SEVIKA!” My voice cracked, every octave I never thought possible, my body fell from the wall, the only strength I had was to hold my injury from bleeding anymore.

A gold and brown boot fell into my vision but I couldn’t even lift my head up for a simple greeting, instead I fell flat on my face, I felt warm– is this what dying truly is? It’s so lifeless, my life didn’t flash before my eyes, I didn’t regret every decision I’ve ever made or see some bright light, I was wondering who was gonna take care of Isha while I was gone. Who was gonna make sure you ate every night and made sure she got home in one piece, who was gonna keep her away from Smeech while I couldn't, who was going to replace me because I was too weak to stay alive and help. 

My eyes opened drearily, the first thing gracing my vision was an unpeeled orange. Oranges are actually my favorite fruit, one of the only good things that people stole from topsiders besides equipment was fresh fruit. Everything in the underground was just a remake of something from topsiders, food that was already on someone else’s plate, clothes that were already on someone else’s back but fresh fruit was the one thing we had and it was delicious. Sure it wasn’t as great as sugary treats or drinks that I was sure all the topsider brats got to have on a daily basis but it meant something.

My hands immediately reached for it, splitting it open down the middle and taking a piece off of the side before letting it into my mouth. This could have been poisoned but I would have died a happy person, because who gives a shit? Within a moment of tasting the sweetness of the fruit, reality hit me like a train– I was bleeding out in the middle of the Last Drop and now I’m.. where the hell am I? This wasn’t the Last Drop, or the back rooms where Vi, Powder and little man used to be, I envied them, every kid in Zaun did. Those little shits got away with murder and Vander always protected them, he was a savior, everyone loved him. All I could do was sigh at the memory of Vander and the others whenever we were younger, Powder reminded me so much of my little Isha, even though she was just a baby, an infant, they were so similar. Not anymore. 

Powder was long gone, so was Vi and Mylo and Claggor and Little Man, every single one of them was gone. Even though “powder” was still in Zaun, she wasn’t truly the same. This wasn’t my concern, I needed to figure out where the hell I was. The air felt thin, a weird greenish color and it was near toxic. Inhaling it felt like I was swallowing sandpaper, my throat was closing up and every cough I hacked out was painful, my eyes were barely able to see through the clearing and I was met with the sight of enforcers, through the clearing all I could see were enforcers. A whole group of them, however one I could recognize without even thinking about it. Caitlyn Kiramman.

A gun raised as she explored the foreign territory and her lackeys followed in suit, they were actually terrifying, all of them, gas masks covering their guilty faces, the swoosh of hair just barely escaping their helmets. A shield plate covering their chest from any harm and yet everyone else down here was stuck with no armor, no masks, no weapons but they were raiding a place that looked similar to an arcade– a child’s place. How worse could they get?  How worse would they be if they catch me? I caught a glimpse, a small glimmer of blue hair, a braid running from the shadow but it escaped my vision long before I could actually see it. I couldn’t worry about this, whether or not that's who I assumed it was, I needed to get out of there immediately. My stomach was still in knots of pain but I still ran, I couldn’t be in there. The last thing I heard was a singular shot let off but my body went in the opposite direction. 

Half an hour later I was stuck with half an orange, two full vials of shimmer and no sister in sight. I was too close to our house to keep the shimmer on me, it wasn’t like my job was a secret to Isha but I didn’t want her to see me like this. I didn’t even know if the shimmer was still in my system, two whole vials of it had gone down the drain or rather injected itself into my skin and I couldn’t even feel it or remember what happened but I knew it was there, I could feel the buzzing under my fingertips. It was a dormant sensation waiting to be reawakened with every step I took but I couldn’t allow it to over take me. “Isha! Isha, I’m home!” I shouldered off my jacket, a hand rubbing over the bandage around my mid area in the cracked mirror. Weak Freak. Blighter. Bitch.

I held my head in my hands, the headache brewing over the cynical thoughts running through my mind, I saw him, the debt collector I killed. I saw him in my mind and behind me in the mirror but whipping around only led to air and the agitation of my headache even more. It was starting to turn more into a migraine, even the lights would irritate me, I couldn’t open my eyes without the lights burning them and my head screamed at me. “Your fault! It’s your fault that I’m dead! You know that right, blighter?” “Shut up!” As the silence finally fell, I remembered my reality, no one was in the house but me, not Isha, or the debt collector or enforcers. Just me. “God fucking damn it, I’m losing my shit.” 

I didn’t remember passing out, I didn’t even remember making it to the scratched up couch that we owned and yet that’s what I woke up on and to my surprise my sister was in the very same room as me, crouched on the floor with scuffs on her face and hands. Rushing over, I stooped down to her level, brushing the caked up dirt out of her hair and dust off of her face. She looked like she had taken a tumble beyond comparison but she was smiling and giggling like an idiot. Her hat was covered in small drawings all over it, pink, blue, yellow and purple streaks of colors splayed all over it, what the hell? “What happened to you? Where have you been?” She completely ignored my question, glazed over eyes as she asked about my whereabouts– signing it, I had to see her dusty and fragile hands ask about where I had been and why I was injured, I couldn’t admit to my sister that I was selling again and I definitely couldn’t say that I had probably killed six people. “Smeech, I pissed him off and we both know that doesn’t end well but I’m fine. It’s a small injury, it doesn’t hurt as bad as it looks.” She frowned, not believing any of my bullshit by a long shot but I tried. I took the hat off of her head, examining it closer, wiping off the small bits of dust that remained.

She shook her head at me, complained that it was purely nothing, it was hilarious how much sass a little girl could have with her hands and facial expressions alone, honestly impressive. I didn’t want to leave her side anymore, I couldn’t after the scare today. I was afraid to even go back and sell, Smeech would want revenge for the debt collectors I may or may not have killed, I still couldn’t recall correctly if that was me. Fuck. I let out a hiss at the memory of me ditching the vials right outside the house, some random mainliner was gonna grab them, that wasn’t the concern to me but if they overdosed on my shimmer then Smeech would know and all hell would rain down like hail as he slowly started fitting the pieces together. An image of Isha being dragged away from me, kicking and screaming, fighting like all hell because she was my sister but still losing, I couldn’t take the sight, my head was hurting, basically killing me, there was no way I could let that happen.

I returned the hat to her head, squishing it down enough to cover her eyes as a joke waiting as she pushed it back up with an unagitated glare. “We don’t have any food for tonight, so I’m gonna go get some, alright? I just need to make a little bit more money and there will be enough for both of us..” I sucked in a breath as I looked at her. “If I can’t make enough for two then you can get whatever you want, alright? I’ll be right back, shouldn’t be wrong.” Her small frame ran towards my leg, launching herself onto me and not letting go even whenever I tried to shake her off like a bug. “Isha! Isha! Come on, you gotta let me go! I gotta go!” I would never yell at her, more groans of annoyance at a normal tone, one of her hands released its grasp to sign to me once again. “Promise me you’ll come back. Promise.” Gods, this little girl, she was gonna be the death of me.

“I’ll do you one better, I swear. I swear to every deity in this realm that I will make it back home to you, Isha. I don’t care what happens as soon as I leave this house, I will make it back to you.” I wiped the small tear from her face and planted a kiss on her forehead (a little hard with that helmet of hers but I wasn’t gonna tell her to remove it) , rubbing her cheeks and she finally released her grip and with that I made my way back out into the city– and I will keep my goddamn promise. 

Never in my life did I ever think that I would be going toe to toe with a mainliner for some shimmer that I didn’t even want and yet here I was, getting the shit beat out of me by some random hash-head with a bone to pick because I saw the shimmer the same time that he did. Goddamn it! Why did I even leave the house? The shimmer was a lot further than I remembered and now I was reeling the consequences of my actions, with a kick towards the man’s torso, I felt stronger than I usually do but the feeling was shortly replaced as he flew away from my body and his sudden missing force sent me backwards directly onto the ground. Man, I am just having a shit day today. Dusting myself off, I made it back to my feet, scoffing as I took a look around at the scene before me, I did all this for one vial. What's gonna happen when I find the second one? If I even find it. 

“Hey! Are you ok over there?” God fucking damnit. Hiding the shimmer behind my back I turned towards the voice, another group of enforcers however one of them was injured, I had only been outside for an hour and a half maybe two, I lost track of time but still that wasn’t enough time for a group of enforcers to get jumped unless there was something else going on in town that I wasn’t aware of. A ginger haired girl poked her head out from the light in the alleyway towards me, my eyes looked bloodshot because I couldn’t recall the last time I had slept or had water or a full meal. Hiding my face with a glare towards the ground, I tried to sneak glances at them, a weird blue looking guy was holding up a bulkier man, there was no way I was gonna win a fight if he was gonna be my opponent, it didn’t matter how much shimmer I had in my body, he could body slam me no problem– it also didn’t help me that I didn’t really know how to fight, I just swung my hands and eventually they would hit something or someone. “Hey, sweetheart, are you ok?” Why did she have to call my sweetheart? It was so much more..demeaning, degrading me in such a way, like she was taunting me. The lick of her accent only dealing more pain to the wound, Piltover, every single one of them assumed the worst of anyone down here and the fact that she was an enforcer? God I would never live it down if she found me with shimmer, hell she might even kill me on the spot, so my only option? “Fine. That.. crackhead tried to steal my money. He succeeded, I’m pretty much out.” I lifted my face, so that she could see me, injuries from my other fight still visible, her face reacted but not her words however the two behind her seemed impatient, whispering about her needing to hurry up. She rummaged through her jacket pocket and dropped some coins in my hand, plenty for me and Isha, god they were so easy. With a wave she ran back to her little group, a scowl on the man’s face as he looked at me, at that point hiding the shimmer didn’t do me any good and they were leaving and injured as well, were they really gonna stop for me? 

That ginger haired enforcer gave me plenty enough for me and Isha, maybe even a little bit more however I still needed to get rid of this shimmer– I needed to at least prove to Smeech that I did sell my products and didn’t just lose it (which is exactly what I did). I owed him nothing, absolutely nothing and yet here I was still trying to pay off my dwindling debt..a debt that was definitely going to have some “added fees” as soon as he figured out that it was me. My eyes glazed over the sky, a blanket of dimming sky had fallen over, then again I could barely see anything due to the glaze of the smoke, it felt like the smoke from earlier however it wasn't as thick so it was just barely breathable. My hand flew over my mouth, a small attempt to filter the trashed air, as soon as I made it through the smoke I could see Piltover in my wake, one day Isha would be up there, she wouldn’t be stuck down here with anyone else, she would be trusted and respected and no one would where she came from because I’d erase any existence of her being in Zaun, for her own safety, for her future. 

My thoughts were shattered, not because of the shimmer this time, but because the ground began to shake, the gas in the alleyway being dragged outwards towards god knows what. I thought it was a monster or a vacuum until Piltover was painted pink, blue, purple and green, the colored smoke staining buildings which I could see even from where I was. Children started giggling, running around and celebrating the defaming of Piltover’s “perfect” picture. I couldn’t stop the smile that was shown on my lips– gaze trapped on the smoke until it dissipated. “Jinx! Mommy she’s back, it’s Jinx!”  Jinx? Two run ins in one day would be crazy, right? I ran into the enforcers that she murdered earlier today and now I’m watching her plans play out in front of me. I've only seen her a few times in my entire life but she was enrapturing every single time, her mind was near genius, something that no one ever appreciated or acknowledged but I saw it, I noticed it, granted that meant nothing to her since we had never met but still. She’s actually the one who got me into creating my own trinkets. Isha took a liking to it as well, perhaps I should start to tweak them a bit more. Focus. If Jinx was up to no good then I was pretty much screwed– Isha. I left her at home and promised that I would be back, no I didn’t promise, I swore that was more important than any promises I could ever make. I sprinted back home but I’m not sure why I even got my hopes up. She was gone, she didn’t leave anything behind, damnit maybe I should have made her swear that she was gonna stay here, not that I was gonna come back. 

My unfortunate first thought was to check wherever Jinx was, thanks to that colorful display she couldn’t have been that far. I didn’t really know where her “hideout” was, I just knew where Silco used to do business since it was pretty hard to hide such a renovated building and it’s been abandoned ever since his death a few months ago.. To be honest Silco gave me more hope than Vander ever did but once he fell down the wrong rabbit-hole and created shimmer, I lost confidence in every new “symbol of peace” that popped up every few months, except Jinx.

Something about her was.. interesting, it was like she never wanted to be a symbol but everyone kept treating her like one, some may say it was just her being humble but I know better. It was being stuck with a responsibility you never asked for and every single person who was supposed to lead you and show you how it works is gone and now you’re forced to figure things out on your own and everyone is depending on you. It’s how I felt when our parents died, the responsibility to take care of Isha was killing me inside. I never even wanted another sibling, I just wanted to be an only child, we were struggling enough as it is and dad was always sneaking out. When he returned he reeked of Piltover, of their lavish perfumes, exotic smells and fancy food, we both knew that what he was doing wasn’t good but he was all that we had so we couldn’t just let him go because of some.. Piltover woman who stole his heart from my mother.

I couldn’t find it in my heart to call him the traitor that he was, not even mom did it, if anything she looked worried for him every time he got back from Piltover, stealing him away with hushed whispers. I could never really hear what they were talking about, I just assumed that they didn’t want to fight in front of me but I was a big girl, I could handle it, I didn’t need them to treat me like a scared child. 

Now here that scared child was again, clutching my shirt away from my skin like it would save me from whatever horrors were inside of this building, I expected dead bodies in the corners, people’s heads on the gate as a warning or a beware, instead it looked like a normal building but with a lot of lights on the outside. I shoved the front door open, it seemed locked but this place was clearly abandoned so it's not like there were any guests hiding inside– besides the ghosts that is.

It was freezing in there and the temperature only felt like it was dropping the further I moved, the slow movement led me to an office room, an uncomfortably dusty chair was hidden away by the even worse looking desk. It was very uncanny, I could play out Silco turning around in his chair in front of me despite the fact that I have never met the man face to face. “Well, don't you clean up nicely?” The rasp from her voice made me jump, my head swinging in every direction to find out where it came from, she sounded like she was behind me, and beside me all at once– turns out she was just beside me. 

“Sevika– mara, you could at least announce yourself?” There was a brand new arm that adorned her, gold in color but drawings all over it in those same, now traumatizing colors, and a slot machine to go with it, wasn’t she an addict? “What are you doing down here, blighter?” I hated that term and she knew it, it was definitely just to get under my skin but it worked every single time. “Looking for my sister.” She shouldered a laugh. “I was wondering where your other half was. My personal favorite out of the two, she doesn’t complain as much.” I rolled my eyes, she was mute, she didn’t verbally complain about anything but I guess just shutting up is what gets you favored by Sevika. “We found her aright, Jinx caught her trying to get away from some of that rat’s ol’ debt collectors. That your doing?” I mentally cursed however my body showed my disdain from the way I deflated. “I… I didn’t mean to. Damn it, it wasn’t my fault. A group of enforcers came out of nowhere and jumped the shit out of me and some other sellers. It’s how I got this–” I lifted my loose shirt to show her the wrapped up injury,  she grimaced and looked away from it as if she wasn’t interested in it but hadn’t she already seen it before? Why was she acting like this? “Wait, weren’t you the one who bandaged me up? You’ve already seen it, why are you asking me what happened?” Her head turned back to me and her eyebrow raised as she stood up and walked towards me. I’m not a pussy but I know a fight that I can and cannot win and she is someone I can’t fight and win. “No. I haven’t seen you since last year.” “Then.. I went to the Last Drop, looking for you. Who helped me if it wasn’t you? I saw your shoes..” Sevika groaned loudly and took off, I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to follow behind her but I did. 

It looked like an abandoned air ventilation system, however it was decorated with the same drawings that I saw on Isha’s hat when she came home and the one’s on Sevika’s arm– Jinx? Isha noticed me before I noticed her, running immediately over to me and hugging onto my leg, tears filled my eyes as I looked at her. I didn’t think she was dead but my hopes of her being alive and well weren’t very high at the moment. I clutched onto Isha’s side, tears filling my eyes, I had almost her twice in one day and it was enough to give me a heart attack– it didn’t help that both times I thought I lost her ended with Zaun’s symbol of “peace” and psychopath who was also the most alluring woman I have ever met in my entire life.

God damn it Jinx.  She scowled at me, an eyebrow raised at my presence, that seemed to be happening more often than I would have liked it to. “Enforcers, they jumped the shit out of me and almost killed me. I would have never left her alone if it wasn’t for those bastards.” Isha’s inaudible giggle was below me as she signed the word for “shit” and I lightly slapped her hand away, kids are so bad. Jinx’s eyes didn’t seem to waver, forever staring into my soul as if she was gonna rip my throat out with her teeth for even touching Isha– like she wasn’t my sister. “Looks like you didn’t do a very good job.”

 Her gaze went towards my stomach and I wanted a hole in the floor to open and swallow me up, her surveying my body was so intimidating and intimate that it began to breach the lines of uncomfortable. “I killed those enforcers ok? I killed them and the stupid debt collectors in that goddamn alleyway. There are six people dead and it’s all my fault so can I get a little grace here?” I almost yelled at her, who was she to tell  me that I was a bad sibling? A bad protector? “You left her!” She seemed to stalk closer to me with her every word. “At home! She was never supposed to be on the streets in the first place but if she didn’t leave the house like I told her not to then we wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place!” My words were directed towards Isha but my anger was shot directly at Jinx, so much she almost choked on her words. “But you still left me!” “I didn’t mean to! I went to hell and back to get back home to her!” I was so entranced by my own fit of rage that I didn’t even notice her change of words. She wasn’t talking about Isha, she was talking about herself, but I had never left or even met Jinx personally besides this one point. She had just been a whisper in the crowd, a terrifying sight that Silco had created that he guarded as if she was actually his own daughter. It was sickening to hear but it was none of my business. We both just sat there, heaving chests and ignoring the tears that were threatening to slide down our cheeks, the only reason I looked away from her was because Isha tapped my thigh. “We were fighting the enforcers, the one with the blue hair almost shot us!”  Us? Us Us?! My eyes flicked up towards Jinx, invading her personal space without a care in the world, pushing her back up against some makeshift desk, she could have stopped me if she wanted to but didn’t. 

“You let Isha get close to Caitlyn Kiramman? You almost let her get shot by Caitlyn Kiramman?! She’s a fucking child! Do you have any restraint at all or are you just that evil that you can’t even help yourself but enjoy chaos? And why the fuck did Caitlyn Kiramman almost shoot you?” At my last question I spun towards Isha, I didn’t actually know anything about what was going on, I just knew that she almost shot my sister and that was enough to go off on anyone around. “The kid was protecting Jinx. Jumped on top of her and wouldn’t let go of all hell, Caitlyn and Vi were trying to kill her– your sister didn’t want to let that happen.” Oh. Well now I felt like a fucking idiot, Jinx was going through hell and I just blamed her for everything without even asking, however she could have clarified or at least said something while I was standing in front of her– why hadn’t she moved? I turned my head back to her to apologize but she bombarded me with a hug so fast I almost fell over, those tears from earlier finally over took her, wetting the top of my already ruined shirt. I didn’t know how to respond, I just awkwardly wrapped my arms around her as she snuggled into my neck. “You came back to me.” 

taglist: @livinginabasement @llycrow @katethejinxwife @hank-girl @ayedomino0 @jiunxo @vivispace @maksysti @jinxslapdog

[dawnfelagund]

The last couple of days have been heavier topics, with data on who speaks by gender and character group, so today seemed a good day for a post that is only semi-serious!

Because it doesn't actually mean much to talk more than Ilúvatar in The Silmarillion. Ilúvatar has a lot of lines and is prone to speech-making so has a high word count as well, but it's not like the four characters who speak more than him are trying to one-up God or anything. But we're Silmarillion fans and anything related to our characters feels political, so it's fun to consider which of them talk more than God.

In fact, the four characters who do are interesting in part because their dialogue is so different. Melian's dialogue is mostly in conversation, with Thingol or Galadriel. Fëanor has a variety of different dialogue but also makes some lengthy speeches; his speech to the Noldor prior to their exile is the third longest in the book (excluding two instances of "group speeches"). Túrin is the exact opposite: He speaks a lot, but his instances of dialogue are unusually short. The median length of an instance of dialogue across the book is thirty-one words, but the median for Túrin's dialogue is twenty-one words.

Thingol, of course, comes out on top as the character who speaks the most instances of dialogue AND the most words, topping Ilúvatar in both of these categories.

Returning to Melian and continuing yesterday's discussion of gender and speech, the woman who speaks the most after Melian is Yavanna, with ten instances of dialogue (most of them in the Christopher Tolkien-authored "Of Aulë and Yavanna). This means that Melian and Yavanna speak more than half of the dialogue uttered by women in The Silmarillion.

Of course, I'm always interested in pseudohistorical readings of The Silmarillion, particularly thinking about who is telling the story at what points and how the story Tolkien gives us is shaped by narrative point of view.

In this case, Thingol as the top talker makes sense given that the Beleriandic materials were collected by Pengolodh, who counted as a major source the refugees from Doriath who migrated, as did he, to Sirion's mouth. Dírhaval, who is credited with Túrin's story, would have likewise heard much of Thingol (and Melian) from his sources. It makes sense that Thingol, Túrin, and Melian are written with more immediacy than other characters are, who likely felt less accessible to the narrators.

What about Fëanor? The Aman materials were authored by Rúmil and passed to Pengolodh. I've always felt like Rúmil's sections portray Fëanor with more humanity than Pengolodh's sections do, though I've not yet drilled down into the data on this. The dialogue data seems to support that, at least, Rúmil perceived Fëanor as a character important enough that his words were worth preserving. That may seem like a "doh" statement, but consider how many important moments throughout The Silmarillion occur without us hearing dialogue from anyone at all. Multiple of Fëanor's speeches, on the other hand, were preserved.

---

This is part of my ongoing project The Silmarillion: Who Speaks? The data is available under a CC license for others who wish to play with it: View the data | Copy the data

Previous posts:

Dialogue by Chapter Dialogue by Character Group Dialogue by Gender

The entire project is archive on the Silmarillion Writers' Guild.

[bubblybloob]

I have a feeling, and bear with me here, that each of the voices’ own chapters are where they’re their worst selves.

Think about it. Hunted plays right in the Beast’s hands, yet he is incredibly useful in dodging Razor and kind of acts like a predator instead of prey in Eye of the Needle. Skeptic overanalyzes every minute detail that he can in Prisoner and his encouragement ends in us getting a shackle around our neck, but in Den and Eye of the Needle he is an integral part of the plan to lure the princess out.

This is why it’s hard to tell what’s really up with some voices, for example let’s look at Broken. Broken is actively working against us in Tower, yet is rather gentle in Wild. I believe the only other two instances he appears in is in the two “Everyone is here” chapters where he is overshadowed and is literally called by Opportunist the worst of the bunch in Clarity, which isn’t necessarily inaccurate but it only serves to worsen his reputation when he doesn’t seem all that bad when he’s our secondary voice to show up in Wild. Though again, Wild is our only example of him being like this, and all voices brought into the Wild seem a little too passive. I wonder if there was another chapter where he was our secondary voice and with no huge “everyone is here” event, he’d act differently.

Paranoid is a toss up because he spends most of Nightmare being unable to speak up, he’s too busy trying to keep you alive, and when he does speak he usually says something generally useful, like getting the narrator to shut up or theorizing His control over their situation. Though to be fair his whole existence as a voice of paranoia in our head gets dampened by the absolute insane situation we’re forced into in every route, so most of what he says ends up sounding relatively reasonable despite what his title implies. I’m pretty sure anyone would be paranoid if they kept coming back to life and are forced to kill the same woman who continues evolving in how she looks and behaves.

Cheated is like if Broken’s problems and Paranoids problems were mixed together. His own string of chapters is a big “everyone is here” adventure, so obviously attention gets diverted away from him to make room for the others. Even then, this is where he’s at his worst, so what about where he’s at his best? Sadly, he is actually a little hard to get given the situations you have to enact that most players won’t follow on. I myself have never gotten him outside of Razor. I wonder how much we’re all actually aware of what he’s like at his best instead of his worst.

I do remember Black Tabby Games saying something along the lines of them wanting voices to be more useful outside of their own chapters, so I wonder if that contributed to this feeling I’ve been getting from them.

[lintwriting]

I was here when mouthwashing was just a demo. here are some things I noticed.

I caught on to the fact that Curly was likely innocent and that Jimmy was an unreliable narrator based on the "Take Responsibility" word scramble and Jimmy's asshole behavior. Because of this, I also did not think there would be supernatural horror, I thought it’d be man-made and psychological, which I was right about.

What I did not expect was the subtle depiction of how workplaces fail victims of rape and misogyny.

What I did not expect was how backgrounded the late stage capitalism critique ended up being.

late stage capitalism: a red herring

From the Demo, you focus a lot on the corporation as the main antagonist, probably because Wrong Organ devs were hiding the villain protagonists.

Ominous posters, a Polle monster chasing you, those ominous TV commercials glorifying working for a corporation, the fact that all this horror was over fucking tooth-rotting mouthwash. Really paints the picture of a corporate horror or conspiracy a la “Time to Orbit: Unknown,” where every chapter unveils a new corporate conspiracy for money and power.

but instead, in mouthwashing, the capitalist aspects are merely plot devices to explore the horror surrounding mismanagement and its consequences.

A power tripping coworker and an enabling manager who got him the job. An eager-to-please kid and an established supervisor willing to take advantage. Flaws in how the hierarchy is decided, leading to the one person who shouldn’t have had power getting the power. Lack of sensitivity training (or whatever that’s called) surrounding things like Title IX concerns, such as the uneven gender dynamics or what to do in the event of a crime or the fact that the person doing the psych evals isn’t getting any evals.

Notice that none of these things are unique to capitalism, they’re issues you’d have to plan for in any workplace/organization, whether that be socialist or capitalist or whatever. The capitalism exacerbates the issues or catalyzes the consequences of them like a plot device, but the issues don’t originate from there.

For example: the lack of any woman other than Anya.

Yes, this was most likely exacerbated by late stage capitalism understaffing to cut corners, leading to skeleton crews, but that the crew we DO have is mostly male is more related to misogyny or gender roles.

Perhaps women don't want to work on these freighters because of the danger of being trapped in a confined space with men. Maybe the jobs required for these freighters, like mechanic or pilot, are male-dominated. Or maybe the hiring manager had a bias where they viewed men as more competent, etc. The fact of the matter is that the cause is the same when you dig down deep into it: misogyny.

Or the layoff. The laying off of the crew is its own form of evil, but its consequences aren’t the ones being explored within this story. Most of the crew die of the horrors within the ship before they ever have to face it. In fact, the horrors within the ship don't really even have anything to do with the layoff at all. It’s a bit of a red herring.

Rather, the actual cause of this game’s horror is the mismanaged fallout of Jimmy’s assault. Most obviously in that scene where we see Curly for the first time, wherein Curly doesn’t take Anya’s safety concerns seriously, even when Jimmy is actively threatening to make everyone disappear so neither of them have to face the consequences of the assault.

I initially misread that scene as Curly evilly conspiring to let Jimmy crash the ship so neither of them would take the fall, hence us finally seeing Curly's “true face.” Because I read what Jimmy said as inherently threatening and serious, I thought Curly had agreed to that awful plan and only got cold feet at the last minute.

It’s only from reading other comments that I realized Curly had most likely assumed Jimmy was blowing hot air and needed to cool down in that scene. Or that he was making an inappropriate joke akin to his 'sexually attracted to cartoon horses' thing and wasn't being serious. Curly didn’t realize Jimmy was actually talking about a real plan until it was too late stop it (makes me wonder if Jimmy was actually attracted to the horse, too).

Thus, it goes from a story about corner-cutting late stage capitalist megacorps to a story about cartoonishly evil, power-tripping men to a story about how we enable these men with failures in our system.

Much like how the beginning of the game, when Jimmy crashes the ship, a failure in the safety systems is what allows the crash to happen (Seriously? One pilfered key is all you need to send your ship into a crash?), a series of social safety nets had to have failed to let him into the cockpit in the first place. The true face is not Curly conspiring to crash the ship out of cowardice and greed, but his inability to face what his friend has done.

[yingandzhan]

You know, one thing that boggles my mind is how some in the fandom can dispute that Yu-furen "didn't whip WWX", "only whipped him that one time in the novel and once in the extras" and my absolute favourite response... "WWX said she never hit him".

All of which are the most ludicrous statements I've heard since Trump won the election...

Obviously YZY hit and abused WWX throughout his life. Not only do we see her doing so, but we are given a vivid description of his back in the extras and it's covered in old scars alongside the new ones she has just given him for no good reason. Before anyone cries "but it's propriety, he was half naked in front of a young woman!" and all the other crap I've seen people spout, he's not the only one with a bare chest... Yet she specifically blamed and targeted him. Your precious "tiger mom" YZY was being unreasonable and you god damn well known it!

Anyway, regardless of whether you believe WWXs obvious lie to save face and cope with the trauma (just like JL does when he denies JC hits him and we clearly SEE otherwise) there is an actual line in the novel, from the narrator, not WWX... that spells it out for readers in black and white!

...and Jiang Fengmian’s wife Yu Ziyuan had never spoken well of them to him— honestly, things had been pretty good if she didn’t WHIP HIM or tell him to scram, or kneel in the ancestral hall, or stay away from Jiang Cheng.

- Vol 1. 7S, which is my least favourite translation because I really do feel the translator actively tries to play the abuse down.

Jiang Fengmian’s wife, Yu Ziyuan, never had a decent conversation with him. He would be fortunate if she didn’t GIVE HIM A FEW LASHES, or banish him to kneel at the ancestral hall so that he would keep his distance from Jiang Cheng.

- Chapter 29, Taming Wangxian

...Jiang Fengmian’s wife, Yu Ziyuan, had never been interested in having a conversation with him at all. If she didn’t WHIP HIM A FEW TIMES and tell him to get out, kneel at the ancestral shrine, and keep far away from Jiang Cheng, he already considered that pretty good

- Chapter 29, Fanyiyi

...Yu ZiYuan never spoke properly to Wei WuXian at all. It was lucky for him if she didn’t GIVE HIM A FEW WHIPS and send him to kneel in the ancestral hall so that he’d keep his distance from Jiang Cheng.

- Chapter 29, ExR

It's in...Every. Single. Translation. So there's no excuse if you're talking about the novel or tagging things as MDZS or Mo Dao Zu Shi. It's right there for everyone to see. WWX deemed it a good day if he wasn't whipped! Which would have been the days YZY was off night-hunting and nowhere near Lotus Pier.

Thankfully YZY being away from the clan residence seems to be the case more often than not. But those days she was there... It was a likely scenario WWX was going to be "punished" (for absolutely nothing) in some way or form and judging by the scars he had across his back, she very much liked to hit him with her spiritual weapon.

[whimsyfinny]

He’s a Winchester

Chapter 4

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader

Warnings: language, alcohol, lots of feelings, Dean becoming a DILF

Chapter Word Count: 6338

MDNI 18+

A/N: annnnd I feel like we can get that ball rolling! Sorry guys, this should have been posted last night but my kid is sick again (germy little fuckers) so I'll post it now! Let me know if you like Deans POV and if you want more of it! Also do we prefer longer or shorter chapters? Lemme know. As always, it's only proof read by moi and my currently highly cold&flu medicated brain, so let me know of any errors. Also feedback is greatly appreciated!

A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out.

Photos from Pinterest

New Readers Start Here: Chapter 1

Previous Chapter: Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Ice-cream went down a treat and the boys were loving every minute spent in each others presence. We were currently sitting in the window booth at the dessert parlour, my second coffee now clutched between my palms as both Levi and I listened to Dean intently. He was telling us some crazy story from his travels, and I couldn't help but smile as Levi hung off every word, urging Dean to become more animated in his narration. The crisp ring of a phone suddenly cut through the air between us and it took Dean a moment to realise it was his. After retrieving it from his jacket pocket, his eyes widened when he saw the caller ID. He mouthed ‘sorry’ to both of us as he answered the phone.

“Sammy!” he exclaimed before chewing his lip. He turned away and toward the window slightly so he didn't speak over us. Whilst Dean was preoccupied, I took the time to turn to Levi, warmth blooming across my chest at the smile that hadn't left his face.

“Hey there trouble, how are you doing?” I reached over to place my hand over his, tracing my thumb over his knuckles.

“This is the best day ever!” he said,  his voice practically bouncing with joy and excitement as he glanced at his Dean, still on the phone. “Mom, I have a dad!”

I laughed softly, giving his hand a final squeeze before letting go.

“Yes you do!”

“And he’s cool!”

I laughed again. “Very cool!”

We chatted for a few minutes whilst Dean wrapped up his conversation with his brother - Levi trying desperately to contain his enthusiasm every time his dad was mentioned. It didn’t take long for Dean to hang up the phone and turn back to face us, giving Levis’ hair a ruffle as he looked down at him.

“Hey kiddo, that was your uncle Sammy on the phone,” he shifted his gaze to mine for a moment before turning back to his son, “I’ve sorta left him hanging all afternoon, so I’m going to need to spend a few hours with him, ok?” Levi pouted, which triggered Deans’ expression to soften. He looked back at me with almost pleading eyes. “If it’s ok with your mom, I could come around later? Bring a movie and popcorn?”

Dean had barely finished speaking when Levi beamed at me and I laughed at his electric excitement. If he smiled any wider I feared he’d actually hurt himself.

“Of course, that’s fine with me.”

The boys high-fived before I gave Dean a light hearted warning look.

“But the film has to be age appropriate. Absolutely no slasher films.”

Dean held his hands up in mock defence.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with a slight smirk on his lips

With that, he said his goodbyes with a pat on Levis’ shoulder and the squeeze of my hand before slipping out of the booth and out of the parlour.

Deans POV

“You have a son?!”

Sam looked just as shocked as I had felt less than twelve hours ago, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Yeah,” I grinned at him, “crazy, huh?”

Sam opened and closed his mouth a few times, almost getting words out before changing his mind at the last minute in favour of a different sentence. 

“Dean… You’re a dad,” he smiled in disbelief, looking over at me.

“Yeah,” I said again, feeling that goofy-ass grin reappear on my face, “it’s awesome. He’s awesome. I can’t wait for you to meet him, Sammy. He's so fucking cool.” 

“I bet he is.”

We sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, my mind creating and then recreating hundreds of new scenarios I’d never thought I’d ever imagine. That I never thought I’d even get the chance to experience. I’m a hunter. I live a wild, dangerous, unpredictable life. But I have a son. A reason to live; to take care and caution for. 

“Hey Dean…” Sams’ soft voice derailed my train of thought.

“Hmm?”

“How do you know (Y/n) is telling the truth? That this kid is definitely yours, and she’s not just messing with your head? I don’t mean to sound horrible Dean, but your taste in women can be-”

“(Y/n) can be trusted,” I cut him off, his words souring my mood slightly. I know he’s only looking out for me, but he’s always the first to question when something seems too good to be true. “You sure?”

“Yeah…” I held his gaze for a few seconds before sighing, deciding to explain further when his stare didn't let up. “We were together for almost a year. She was different. She never judged, or got angry when I was a mess after a hunt. She knows what I - what we - do for a living, and she never freaked out over it, or tried to break things off. She would just say, ‘ok, just stay safe out there’, and carry on,” I paused, the memories of our time together replaying in my mind like an old movie. I could see Sam nodding at my words, listening. So I continued. “(Y/n) had just turned eighteen when we met. I took her to prom,” I smiled at the memory, remembering the tremble in my hands as I’d driven to her parents house to pick her up. I’d never felt so nervous around a girl before, desperately trying to get a grip on my nerves the whole drive there.

“Prom?” Sam smirked, a twinkle in his eye, “You took her to prom?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“How have I never heard about this? Did dad know?”

I chewed my bottom lip, feeling the embarrassment heat my skin a little.

“Yeah, dad knew. He never met her, but he still teased me for weeks. You never knew because I never brought her ‘round, and you were determined to get into Stanford. I stayed away a lot back then, trying to work some cases on my own, to get some more experience. But… (Y/n) turned out to be a huge distraction,” we both laughed, the sound light and easy as it filled the car. I reached into my jacket and pulled out my wallet, flicking through the various cards and slips of paper until I pulled out an old, folded photograph. I passed it to Sam and he eyed it before taking it carefully and unfolded it, smoothing out the creases before studying the image. The slight furrow between his brows quickly disappeared as he looked down, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Well I’ll be damned, you really did go to prom.”

He looked it over for a few more moments, taking in every detail before passing it back to me. It had been a while since I’d looked at the image, finding it hard in the past to look at (Y/n)s face and remember that I’d left her behind. But now… now I could stare at this photo all day and feel nothing but warmth. I looked down at the decade old picture, seeing the candid moment captured in time. She had her arms draped over my shoulders, her face in a contented smile as I leant in for a kiss. Her lipstick was slightly smudged and my jacket was nowhere to be seen - small signs of a night enjoyed. I remember her friend snapping the picture before running off with a giggle, passing the developed image to (Y/n) a few weeks later. It was only a few days after that I told her I was leaving, and she’d gifted it to me with a sad smile and lingering kiss. I never normally found goodbyes difficult as they were part of the job. I'd gotten used to them. But saying goodbye to her had been one of the hardest things I'd ever had to do. The promise of staying in touch didn't last as long as we’d both hoped - dad somehow commondering my phone and returning it to factory settings without telling me. I guess it was around that time she found out she was pregnant. 

The wince struck my face like a bolt of lightning, guilt and regret hitting like ice in my chest. The years she'd spent raising our kid on her own, working at the local garage in between school runs, Motocross trips and simple survival - it had me feeling nauseous. I should have been there. I've missed so much of Levi's life - of a life I could've had with (Y/n), as a family. My family. I mean fuck, I missed the birth of my son - I never got to hold him as a baby. I made him wait eight years for a hug. I made (Y/n) wait even longer, leaving her with the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Crossing my arms over the steering wheel, I buried my head between them, praying that the tight knot in the pit of my stomach would disappear.

“You ok man?” Sam asked, twisting further in his seat to face me, the well-maintained leather creaking under his weight. I raised my head.

“Yeah… and no. I feel so, so good, like I'm on top of the fucking world, but…”

“But?”

“Do you think she hates me? Resents me? For falling off the face of the earth and making her do all of this alone?”

Sam smiled, a small laugh on his breath as he leant back against the passenger side door.

“Are you serious?”

I shot him an incredulous look.

“Dude…” he started, “(Y/n) doesn't hate you. She will obviously have feelings on the matter, but I think what she's feeling right now is relief, knowing that you're here now.”

I took a deep breath.

“Do you really think so?”

“Dean, I don't think things would have gone as smoothly as you described if she held any animosity towards you. She let you take Levi for ice-cream straight after meeting him. I think that's a good sign.”

I smiled, remembering my afternoon.

“Yeah, she's letting me go over to theirs tonight for a movie.”

“I don't think she'd be letting you into her house if she hated you. I mean, in the thirty seconds I'd met her earlier, she was all kind smiles and soft edges. Definitely not giving off ‘mean vibes’. Plus…” Sam smirked slightly, drumming his fingers on the back of the seat.

“Plus?” I raised an eyebrow, turning towards him.

“There's a chance she feels the same way you feel about her. That hug you shared said a lot.”

I scoffed slightly, finding his words ludicrous.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Dude, you've kept her picture in your wallet for nearly a decade. She was the only long relationship that I've ever known you to have, and you're worried if she hates you.”

“And?”

“When have you ever given a shit about anyone's opinion but mine and dad's?” 

His words stopped my racing mind in its tracks, making me think for a moment. My heart suddenly picked up speed, finding it hard to ignore the truth in Sam's words.

“I mean, we were great back then, but she's a totally different person now. She had to grow up fast - there's no way she's gonna put up with my shit now,” I gnawed on my bottom lip, turning to look out of the front windscreen at all of the other parked cars. “I mean, what about hunting? We have jobs to do, I can't just bail on people - bail on you. (Y/n) Doesn't need that sort of chaos in her life, not now that she's got Levi. And I won't bring the hunters life anywhere near him. Fuck, Sammy, what am I going to do? I can't stick around, but I can't leave. FUCK.”

“Dean.”

“Why does this have to be so complicated?” 

“Dean.”

“I'm going to end up ruining their lives and-”

“DEAN.”

“What?!”

“Just shut up. Do you hear yourself? You're overthinking shit that doesn't matter right now.”

His abrupt words ceased the hurricane in my brain, slowing both my thoughts and my rapid pulse. I even released the steering wheel from my white-knuckled grip. I replied to him, my voice slower and less panicked.

“But it's important, I need to figure it out.”

“It is. And you can - with (Y/n). You don't have to figure all of this out by yourself, Dean. You can make those decisions together. You guys are a team now, so you can't go off and decide these things on your own.”

I found myself nodding slowly, letting his words sink in. Taking a deep breath I leant back in my seat and ran my hands through my hair before dragging them over my face. I thought for a moment; calmer, quieter thoughts this time as I mulled over what Sam had said. He was right. I needed to talk to (Y/n) before making any decisions. Any stupid decisions that I know she would prevent me from making - like she used to. I huffed out a long held breath, twisting in my seat to face my younger - wiser - brother.

“Yeah, you're right. Look, I'm sorry for freakin’ out, I don't mean to… it's just- this is crazy. I mean Sam, I have a kid. ME. Of all people.”

Sam's eyes softened, his puppy-dog glimmer returning with a small smile. 

“It's so crazy. I mean I never thought I'd get to be an uncle! But Dean… this is something good. All the shit we've seen, that we've dealt with and put up with - you especially - you deserve this. Embrace the shit out of this.”

I returned his smile in kind, a warm, fuzzy feeling I wasn't used to filling every fibre in my body.

“Yeah, I will.”

(Y/n)’s POV

Evening was drawing in, the sun starting to set as it neared 6:30 pm. Levi was busy tidying his room as I cleaned the kitchen, the small room bathed in a pink and orange glow. The sunset was calming as night slowly crept closer, the feeling of fall crisp in the air as the sun started to lower in the sky. As I dried the final dish from dinner and returned it to the cupboard I heard a rap at the door. I'd barely acknowledged it when Levi's footsteps came thundering down the stairs.

“Dad's here!” his giddy exclamation bouncing off the walls and bringing a smile to my lips.

“Well, go and let him in then!”

He practically leapt over to the door and unlocked it, swinging it open just as I stepped around the corner. There Dean stood with a happy smile and clean shirt, leaning lazily on the doorframe. His eyes lit up as soon as he spotted Levi.

“Hey there kiddo!” Dean ruffled his sons hair.

“Hey dad! What movie are we watching?”

Dean laughed.

“Why don't you let me come in first, huh? I need to say ‘hi’ to your mom.” 

At the mention of me his eyes flicked up to meet mine, the sudden connection catching me off guard as his grin twitched upwards slightly.

Levi stepped back and let Dean in. It was a very rare occurrence for us to have a man in the house, and I couldn't stop the small flutter in my chest at the sight of Dean standing in my small living room. He dominated the space, his rugged exterior a little out of place in our domestic setting. Levi shuffled off to sit on the couch whilst Dean took a few slow steps over to me, his long legs swallowing the distance. 

“Hey,” his voice was low and soft, his smile not leaving his lips.

“Hey,” I smiled back, pulling my soft cardigan around me. I took a step back into the kitchen, Dean following suit. “Coffee?”

“Coffee sounds great,” the grocery bag he'd been carrying was placed on the kitchen counter as I filled the coffee machine with water. Watching out of the corner of my eye, Dean observed his surroundings, looking at where we lived - where his son grew up.

“Nice house,” the low softness of his voice was still present.

“Thanks - I'll give you the grand tour later if you like?” I turned the machine on and spun to face him, and I watched as he leant comfortably against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Yeah,” he said, “I'd like that.”

There was a pause in the conversation as we took a moment to look at each other. Really look, as it felt like the whirlwind afternoon we’d had took away our ability to really see each other. I'd been aware of his unchanging fashion and his handsome face, yet I'd forgotten about the soft sun-kissed freckles that dotted his nose, now fading as fall dawned and the sun weakened. I let myself reminisce over those forest-green eyes, how the swirls of jade and golden hazel had entranced me all those years ago. Given the chance, they'd succeed again. His hair was the same soft brown, memories of combing my fingers through those short strands as he slept quickly resurfacing. And those lips. I daren't look at them for the fear of staring too long and getting caught, yet the thought of that plushness against my own mouth had my own lips tingling. I tried my best to hold his gaze and when my eyes slipped to his mouth for a split second, I knew he'd seen it. 

He reached out and took my hand, his rough palms gliding gently over my soft skin and squeezing gently.

“I know I said it earlier, but it's really good to see you, (Y/n).” Deans voice stayed low, but it harboured a gravelly undertone that told me that maybe, just maybe he wanted to say something else - something more. When he didn't, I squeezed his hand back, fighting the instinct to lace my fingers with his like I used to. Like when we used to lay under the stars in the field behind my parents house and talk for hours about everything and nothing all at once. Like when he'd lay me down in the backseat of his car and make love to me in the ethereal glow of the moonlight.

“You too Dean,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. With a final smile I released his hand, my own instantly feeling cold. The bubble of warmth and familiarity surrounding us slowly dissolved, Dean eventually clearing his throat and standing up straight. He looked at me again, this time without the nostalgia in his eyes.

“Hey uh… I don't suppose you'd be ok with Sammy coming by? It's just he really wants to meet Levi and I feel bad for ditching him earlier for hours. Plus he-”

“Dean it's more than ok,” I chuckled at his pleading and his desperation for justification. “Sam is more than welcome to join us tonight.”

A tension that I hadn't noticed before was quickly released from his shoulders.

“Are you really sure? I feel like-”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Be quiet. I would love for Sam to meet Levi.”

He grinned a little at my quiet assertiveness, looking down at his boots.

“Ok, well thanks again though sweetheart. He would've suffered a fun packed night of research and cheap beer in the motel room otherwise,” his teeth flashed with his humorous grin. I returned it before a thought crossed my mind, my eyebrows knitting together.

“Wait, are you guys staying in that seedy motel across town? The one where the janitor looks like a serial killer?”

“Yeah, to be honest it's not the worst place we've stayed in. The Dahmer look-alike creeps me the hell out though.” 

I pondered for a moment, taking a lot less time than I should've before opening my mouth.

“Do you… do you guys want to stay here? I mean I have a couch and a spare camp bed. It's not much but at least you won't get murdered in your sleep. Plus I have unlimited coffee and bacon for breakfast.” 

I almost cringed as the words left my mouth, kicking myself for practically trying to convince him to stay. Dean looked a little stunned at the proposal, taking slightly longer than I would've hoped to make a decision. I could've smacked myself. “I'm sorry, that's probably the last thing you want, being surrounded by boring domestic life when you have a job to do. Don't worry about it, forget I said any-”

“That would be nice.”

“Wait, what?” 

“It would be nice to stay here. With both of you. I'd like that.” 

The relief exited my body in a poorly concealed exhale.

“Do you need to run it past Sam first?”

He shook his head.

“Nah, to be honest I think Dahmer 2.0 freaked him out the most, he'll be happy to get away.”

It took all of about half an hour for Dean to jump back in the car, drive across town to the motel, pack their things and drive back home. When he knocked on the door a second time, he had Sam on his heels looking a mixture of elated to be here and really don't want to intrude. Levi was ecstatic to discover he had an uncle as well as a dad, and I was almost grateful for the attention to be directed away from myself for once. It's always been me and him against the world, but being a single mom to a pocket tornado was hard fucking work, and it was a breath of fresh air to be able to sit down on my own couch and drink my coffee in peace. 

Dean had insisted on watching Mothra Vs Godzilla despite Levi's hesitation to watch such an old film. Dean won him over eventually with promises of ‘pop culture enlightenment’ and he now sat sandwiched between his two new favourite people - dad and uncle Sammy. The amber glow from the sunset slowly faded to indigo shadows, the only light now in the living room was from the TV and a few scented candles dotted around us. Around an hour into the film I looked over and saw Levi's head resting on Deans shoulder, eyes closed and chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths. Dean happened to glance up and our eyes locked, an adoring smile on Deans’ face as he looked between me and his soundly sleeping son. So as not to wake him, I pointed to Levi then pointed to the stairs, gesturing to Dean to carry him up to his room. He caught on to what I was asking of him and he manoeuvred his large arms under Levis shoulders and legs, lifting him with an ease I was slightly envious of. Levi was tall, much like his father and uncle, and with being tall came the title ‘big for his age’. He’d reached that point now where I was unable to lift him more than a few centimetres off the floor, and the thought sent an unusual pang of emotion through my chest. Which emotion, I wasn’t sure… Perhaps it was longing? Longing for the clock to rewind back to when he was just a few years old and I could still carry him everywhere on my hip. Maybe it was dread, knowing that he’s growing up so fast and I feel as though the last nine years have passed by in a blur, despite the fact that I’ve barely been able to keep my head above water. Or maybe, just maybe, it was simply the sight of a man such as Dean Winchester looking down at his own child in his arms with such a look of total, unfaltering adoration that my heart was swelling beyond its usual capacity for such affection.

I stood with Dean and headed up the stairs in front of him, leading the way. There were only three doors to choose from once you reached the top of the stairs; my room, the bathroom, and Levis room. And Levis room wasn’t hard to miss, with its poster of ‘types of classic cars’ pinned to his door along with a makeshift name sign that we made together when he was around five. I pushed the handle and opened the door, slipping in first so I could throw the covers back on his bed. It was a swift ordeal after Dean laid him on the soft mattress and I tucked the covers around him. We both left the room and I closed the door quietly behind me, both of us heading back downstairs quickly so as to not risk waking the sleeping kid. 

“Well, that is much easier with two people,” I said with a chuckle on my breath as I descended the last few stairs. Before I gave Dean a chance to say anything in response, I stepped into the kitchen, not wanting his reply to make that heavy pang appear in my chest again. “Beer?” I asked, opening the fridge and retrieving a cold bottle.

“Absolutely,” he stepped over to me with his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans, a lazy smile on his lips. I handed him two bottles, knowing he’d give one to Sam. Who, of which, was still sitting on the couch watching the movie. 

“So,” I started, looking up at Dean as we slowly made our way back to the living room, “how do you boys normally spend your evenings?” I tried my best to hide my almost playful smirk behind a swig of my beer. 

“Now ain’t that a question,” his expression mirrored mine as we both slumped down onto the couch again, much closer together this time now that Levi was counting sheep. Dean handed his brother a beer, barely looking at him as his eyes never left mine. “Oh, you know, the usual,” he started, leaning back against the plush cushions, one arm slung over the back rest and tauntingly close to my shoulders. 

“Oh? Feel free to enlighten me.”

“Well, it’s normally spent working on a case, so… researching lore, or on the road, or burning shit that I really hate having to burn. Maybe we’ll go out for drinks, but uh, that’s a rare occurrence.”

I laughed a dry laugh, raising my bottle.

“Amen to that, I’ve not been out for drinks in ages.  Not proper ones, at least.”

Dean looked away from me and down at his bottle.

“Huh...”

“What?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing, just… I would’ve thought you’d be going on dates and getting taken out for a good time. Like, a lot. ”

I couldn’t help but scoff at his comment.

“Dates these days are few and far between. And good dates are practically non-existent,” I paused, debating giving Dean the gory details before my mouth started working of its own accord. “I got taken out the other day by a guy who drinks kale smoothies and lives in boat shoes… tried to convince me that the church he belongs to is totally not a cult. I mean, he paid membership fees. And signed an NDA. Who does that?” 

Dean held my gaze, as though searching for something that he didn’t even know he was searching for.

“You chose to see a guy like that? Dear God, your taste has changed,” his words were meant to be humorous but there was a subtle bite to them. Or maybe I'd imagined it?

I shook my head.

“No way, he was definitely not my type. It was a blind date, and if it wasn’t a blind date, it wouldn’t have happened.”

We both took a swig of our beer.

“I’m surprised,” he said suddenly, “I would’ve thought a girl like you would’ve been swept off her feet by now.”

“Oh, I was,” my words spilled out before I could stop them, “but that was nine years ago and I’m pretty sure he’s moved on.”

It took a breath of silence between us and a pitiful smile from me for Dean to catch on to what I’d said, his eyes widening slightly. He didn’t get much opportunity to reply, however, as Sam stood quickly. I’d almost forgotten he was there, but I'm glad he was as it drew Deans attention away from the red heat rising to my cheeks.

“Hey, uhhh, I’m just going to run to the car and grab our stuff,” he said, jabbing his thumb towards the front door. “(Y/n), when I come back in would it be ok if I used your dinner table to do some research?”

I nodded before speaking again.

“Yeah of course, be my guest. But isn’t it a little late to start doing all that work?”

He flashed a small, almost knowing smile to both myself and Dean.

“Not for us it isn’t. Plus I just… I just really like lore.”

Dean practically spat his beer back into his bottle.

“Really?” he asked his brother with a quizzical expression, “that’s the excuse you’re going for?”

Sam shrugged.

“No excuse. I’m just dedicated to uhhhh, to learning about… ghosts. It’s a real passion.”

“Aw geez,” Dean shook his head.

“Am I missing something here?” I spoke up finally, shooting them both questioning looks.

“Nope, just my little brother is being an idiot.”

Sam just shrugged, oozing with amusement before leaving out the front door to the car.

I blinked away the confusion, however my face must've given away the fact that I still had no clue what had just occurred between the two brothers, because Dean came to my rescue.

“Don't overthink it sweetheart, Sam's just being a pain in my ass.” 

“I don't think I'm ever going to understand the secret handshake language you guys have. I feel like you have to be part of the ‘Winchester Boy Scouts’ to get the handbook for that one.” 

Dean laughed, the sound pleasant and carefree as he drained the last few drops of beer from his bottle.

“Sam's definitely more of a boy scout than I am.”

“Whatever you say, Winchester.” 

He leant forward and placed his empty bottle on the coffee table before turning in his seat so he faced me more.

“So, apart from childcare and Scientology weirdos, what else have you been up to?” 

I couldn't stop the amusement from taking over my face at Dean's question.

“You know, you seem very interested in my life for someone who probably forgot I even existed until this morning.”

 Deans expression fell slightly and he looked away, like I’d struck a nerve. When he looked up again, there was something simmering in his gaze, and I wasn't sure if it was pain, regret, guilt, or something else entirely. When he spoke, his voice was thick and low.

“I never forgot about you. Not once.” 

My breath caught in my throat and my heart stumbled. When I opened my mouth to say, me neither, he carried on before I could get the words out.

“I tried calling in on you once.”

“You- you did?”

He nodded, slowly.

“I was near your parents' place about three years ago and I stopped by, hoping to see you again. Get your phone number and maybe stay in touch - properly this time. But when I got there, your parents didn't look happy to see me,” an almost pained laugh spilled from his throat. “Now I get why.” 

I reached out, placing my hand reassuringly on his arm. My own emotions started to spiral. Slowly at first, a combination of pure relief that Dean never forgot. He even remembered where my parents lived, which coloured me very impressed. The other emotion, which was now growing in the pit of my stomach, bubbling and burning was anger. Rage. My parents knew that Dean was Levi's father the moment I fell pregnant, and it was no secret that they held a strong dislike for him, yet I never pinned them petty enough to let their animosity towards him interfere with the chance to set things right. For their grandson to know his father, and maybe, just maybe, act like the family they so desperately wanted their daughter to have. The saddest part was that, even though I was undeniably furious with them, I wasn't surprised.

“Dean, I'm so sorry, they never told-” 

“Don't apologise for them, (Y/n). I knew from the moment I saw you today that they never passed on the message.” 

My reply was quiet, the hot fury quickly simmering down to cold disbelief towards my own family.

“You're right, they didn't.”

“They told me that you'd moved on. That you had a good job and a husband, and that… and that you resented me for leaving.”

“Fuck. Dean, none of that is true. I have a mediocre job at best, I'm certainly not married - never have been and probably never will. And Dean,” I moved my hand from his arm and slipped it into his warm palm, “I do not resent you.” I offered him a reassuring smile which he returned, tension quickly leaving his shoulders. Squeezing his hand, I continued, “If anything, I should say thank you.”

“Why would you thank me?” He looked puzzled.

“Because you've taken this surprisingly well for a man of your… calibre.”

He looked as though he didn't know whether insulted or flattered.

“Of my calibre?” He repeated, learning back slightly.

“Well, yeah. In just shy of twelve hours you found out you had a son with someone you've not spoken to in almost a decade, you met your son, took him from Motocross straight to get ice-cream, then brought a movie and popcorn around that very same evening. For someone with an entire armoury in the trunk of their car, I didn't expect… I didn't expect this… I didn't expect you.”

“Didn't expect me?”

I smiled, that warmth appearing in my chest again.

“You're a natural father, Dean. You've made everything easy today, and I'm grateful. So fucking grateful, because over the years I've spent near enough every night laying awake, imaging Levi finally meeting you. And I braced myself for every reaction - every scenario - that you could've thrown our way. So, thank you. I mean it. And thank you for believing me.”

“Believing you?” 

“Yeah, for believing me when I said he was yours. I think most guys would've demanded a paternity test, especially after all this time,” I couldn't stop myself from picking the sleeve of my cardigan, anxiety creeping in at the thought that he still might ask for one. However, Dean simply shook his head. 

“I trust you, (Y/n). I know you're not the sort of person to lie about things like that, so I believe you. Plus…” his eyes shone with something akin to pride, “ you can't tell me that he's not mine. That's a Winchester attitude through and through.” 

We shared a laugh. A light, easy laugh that had me looking at him in that overly familiar way. In the same way that would make my heart skip beats in my chest. I simultaneously felt like I knew him like I used to - that we still had that connection, that bond that made it so easy to be around each other. To feel for each other. On the other hand, we’d spent so much time apart, living completely different lives and getting by in such different ways. He'd had adventures, experiences that I would probably never be able to comprehend, and through all of that I'd been here; living in a two bedroom house in a quiet cul-de-sac in a town far too similar to Stars Hollow than I'd like to admit. I went to work, did school runs, went grocery shopping and grabbed coffee with my best friend in the same fucking café practically every day. And last I remembered, Dean was balls deep in credit card fraud. I wanted to make this work so fucking desperately that it almost hurt. I wanted Levi to have his dad around, to have those experiences boys thrive off with their fathers. I don't expect Dean and I will ever live under the same roof or even be together again, but I'm pretty damn sure that we can be friends, and that is something that would rock Levi's world.

The sound of the door opening and closing startled me from my thoughts as Sam let himself back into the house, sliding the locks and chains into place before turning to face us. He carried two duffle bags, dropping one beside the couch and taking one with him to the table, placing it down carefully so as not to make too much noise. He unzipped it and pulled out a laptop and a small stack of books, holding them up for us to see, like a prize.

“I just… fucking love ghosts,” his tone was unconvincing yet he grinned like he knew something we didn't before taking a seat and getting to work. Dean and I shared a look before erupting into laughter, trying painstakingly hard to keep quiet.

“Is your brother from a different planet? Wait no, scratch that, you're both equally as strange as each other. Earthlings or not, you're certainly cut from the same cloth.”

Dean feigned hurt with a hand on his chest yet the grin never left his lips. He muttered a few things about Sam picking his moments before standing from the couch, jabbing his thumb towards the kitchen green eyes on mine.

“Another beer?”

I felt my grin stretch further across my face, my heart doing a little dance at the way he looked down at me, like he just wanted to sit and talk about everything and nothing all at once - just like we used to. I nodded, trying not to let the way the soft glow from the candles in the room made him look like ‘a night well spent’. 

“Yeah, I'd love another beer.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 5

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[shsl-analyzer-guy]

got a totally random rush of Emotions about Chihiro's gender so hi let's talk about how the entire account of Chihiro 'totally being a cis dude guys' is told by Monokuma, the guy that later goes on to fake a suicide note and falsify an entire class trial just to be pissy. Ah yes top 10 most reliable narrators ever of all time, yes, yes, very convincing

Not to mention in the exact same fucking motive he's very obviously purposefully warping the truth and lying to the cast's faces?? Within the 'embarrassing memories' motive Mondo's is a warped version of the truth. "Mondo killed his own brother" but he didn't, and just about everyone is able to grasp that one. He indirectly led to the accident, but Daiya made his own choices. So wouldn't the same logic apply to Chihiro's motive? "He dresses like a girl but actually is a boy" sounds like you're actively warping her own life experience to send her into Despair.... which is Monokuma's primary character motive.... crazy how that works........

And now, a compilation of every line Chihiro delivers in her own backstory, without the narrative padding from Monokuma explaining to you why this is totally her hating being a woman and wanting to be a man

"Now nobody will be able to say anything about 'even though you're a boy'..."

"I'm... weak... Weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak...!"

"Now's my chance..."

"I'm going to get stronger... and accept who I am..."

"Strong enough so that when someone says 'even though you're a boy' it'll be okay. I'll get better!"

"Maybe talking to Mondo about it will help give me some courage..."

So yeah, once you pull out the unreliable narrator. You get like, 6 lines total. 1/3 of which specify that she IS AFRAID of people saying "even though you're a boy". Now, call me crazy, but if we're genuinely arguing that Chihiro is a cisgendered man, why the hell would she say the equivalent of "I need to accept being a boy. Gee, I sure hope no one calls me a boy while I do so!" That's. That's inherently contradictory. More than anything, looking at Chihiro's lines as the most reliable source of Chihiro's thoughts about herself, it starts to look less and less like a man who wants to rise above being gnc and be a true manly man, and more like someone who's about to get fucking outed and mocked by Monokuma and trying to do damage control, steeling herself to be called a man and strengthening her mind and body to prepare for said outing.

Earlier in chapter 2, Chihiro is already thinking of starting to try working out, but is too afraid to enter the lockers because she's well-aware she can only enter the boys' locker rooms. The inference that Makoto comes to is that Chihiro is an individual trapped in a killing game that couldn't defend herself verbally in the library the morning prior, and is visibly the physically weakest in the class. Ergo, perhaps she wants to be able to defend herself better? Well, neither of those facts that lead to said inference magically change after the discovery of her dick, so perchance, the reason she wanted to get stronger was still so she could defend herself both verbally and physically?? The ONLY reason you'd have to come to the conclusion she wants to reconnect with her assigned sex is because she is being actively threatened into it by Monokuma's motive, or if you take Monokuma's story at his word, that he'd speak respectfully of the dead. Just like he did with every other character in that game, right?

Also, it's worth noting that in the actual conversation-turned-spiral between Chihiro and Mondo before Chihiro's death, neither Chihiro nor Mondo actually talk about Chihiro's gender, only her strength and desire to destroy her weakness. Yes, Mondo is using he/him in the voiceover, but the entire class is atp, and again. Using that as genuine evidence falls flat because we see in that very same scene that Mondo WAS NOT completely present for that conversation. He saw Chihiro's willpower and spiraled, conflating Chihiro with his brother and lashing out in a ptsd-induced blackout.

Also also, if you're gonna argue Chihiro has no reason to need to get physically stronger unless it's to be more masculine, A) Sakura exists in the same game, and B) please god look up any statistics on the amount of violence trans teens receive. That alone is a perfectly reasonable justification for a trans woman to want to be able to defend herself, especially when locked in a place where you cannot escape your potential aggressors.

TLDR Chihiro is legitimately more believable as a trans woman, and every intervention attempting to explain otherwise comes from a character defined by his love of twisting the truth for the sake of causing suffering. Hi hello does anyone hear me