#thief king thursday

[wnbnny]

the blood crown. (chapter 1.)

pairings: prince!chan x reader, prince!minho x reader, prince!changbin x reader, prince!hyunjin x reader, prince!jisung x reader, prince!felix x reader, prince!seungmin x reader, prince!jeongin x reader

warnings: mentions of blood, death, poison, suggestive jokes but no smut, competition amongst noble families, ot8 are princes

author's note: hellooo:) welcome to my first series on tumblr! i wanted to go with a sort of dark theme for this fic:> please please do leave likes and comments, it truly makes my day!

You grew up in a household made of lies, deceit and poison. 

Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you were born to an ordinary village girl, and your father, a high-ranking noble. Your mother had been training you since you could barely walk; always smile politely, always walk gracefully, always greet your guests. Each time you would get something wrong, the feared cane would come down upon your hands, enough to hurt but never enough to leave bruises. Your mother had grown up in a poor village, using her charm and wit to seduce your father and charm her way into the ranks of high society. She was ruthless, cunning, and most of all: ambitious. She dreamed of ascending to the very top- the royal family. It was no surprise that when you were at the mere age of ten, your father was pronounced dead on a Thursday afternoon in his quarters, being assassinated by a thief who had supposedly snuck into your house. 

But you knew. 

You knew when the corner of your mother's lips curved up ever so slightly, at the funeral ceremony of your father. Barely there, but it was the smirk of a triumphant winner of the chess game. All your father's assets were transferred to your mother, and she became head of the household- never remarried and never gave birth to any more children. 

Your kingdom was governed by the Bahng's, who had eight sons and a daughter- Christopher, the heir to the throne and the king's sole legitimate child, Minho, the second, born to a concubine in the king's harem, just like the rest. Changbin was the third, along with Hyunjin, then Jisung, Felix, Seungmin, and finally Jeongin. And then there was Princess Areum, the king's beloved daughter and second legitimate child. 

Your mother heard from the gossip circles amongst the ladies at the tea tasting ceremonies she hosted often, that there were talks of Princess Areum being engaged to Duke Choi's son, Yeonjun. The Choi's were a rival family, always competing with your mother for power. 

One day, when you had just crossed the age of eleven a few weeks ago, your mother called you to her study. You sighed, getting up gracefully from where you had been perched on a chair reading, and walked to her study, knocking first, three sharp raps.

"Come in," she called.

And so you put on a demure smile, hands clasped in front of you, never tripping or stumbling on your way. Clothes neatly ironed, not a single hair out of place, the pinnacle of perfection.

"Y/N." her perfectly shaped brows rise, scrutinising you, before smiling softly. Your mother was always strange like that. You knew she loved you, but in wanting what was best for you always pushed too far.

"You know of Princess Areum's engagement." 

You nod, brows furrowed.

"She is not the heir to the throne and poses no danger to us as she is a girl, but her future husband does, unfortunately. The Choi's will surely use their newfound power to gloat over us and trample us underfoot if their son was to be married to the princess. However, we must target the girl this time, it is far too risky to target the boy. Weeds in a garden have to be pruned, ripped out by the roots, to maintain the beauty of the garden. Surely you understand. Tell me the number one rule in chess again." her once soft expression hardens, and she leverages you with a stare, piercing through you.

"Always predict your opponent's next move." you reply, unsure of where this conversation is going. 

"Yes. The Choi family will immediately suspect us if something happens to their precious firstborn, meanwhile the princess will be easy to manipulate and target." your mother sighs, folding her hands neatly on her lap.

"I want you to make friends with Princess Areum, invite her to our house if possible. We'll see from there." 

You nod, hesitant yet confused. What did she mean by target the princess? Was she going to manipulate her to cancel the engagement? 

It turns out, the outcome was far worse.

Princess Areum had become fast friends with you quickly, both sharing common interests. Soon, she began to invite you and your mother to the royal palace, your mother becoming close with the queen too. 

You should've known. 

Years later when you were older, you finally understood what had happened. A tiny bottle of liquid your mother had claimed to be a restoring health tonic, carefully tucked into your mother's sleeve as she made her way to the palace together with you for your weekly afternoon tea sessions with just the four of you.

Princess Areum's rigid body falling to the ground when she took a sip of her afternoon tea, the cries of Queen Bahng echoing out throughout the room as the princess drew her last breath. 

You knew.

The King was heartbroken, his only daughter buried in a grave six feet under the ground. No one even suspected your mother.

One year later, Queen Bahng departed from the realm. The people claimed she died from the heartbreak of losing her only daughter, but only two individuals ever knew the truth. 

Your mother pretended to be inconsolable at the funeral, sobbing as she watched the casket, and you almost wanted to applaud at how convincing her acting was. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the Crown Prince, Christopher Bahng, standing beside his father who had a tight hand clasped on his shoulder. The prince's eyes were clearly red from having cried the night prior, yet he remained stoic throughout the ceremony. He never let his emotions nor his grief consume him, you supposed it was how you were like with your mother. Never allowed to show your imperfections to the world. Though you wouldn't admit it, deep down you felt sorry for him, a broken child just like you.

The Choi's never rose to power, and your mother's plan worked. 

"You must take what is rightfully yours," she had said on the carriage ride home. "And you must do what it takes."

"But at what cost?" you asked.

"Everything."

-years later-

You stared out the window at the bustling city, feeling extremely uncomfortable in the many layers of silk and fabric you were clad in. 

"Remember," your mother turned around to look at you, her sharp voice cutting through the silence. "Keep your head up and your eyes trained upon the goal. Charm Prince Christopher.”

“Become the next queen."

~part 2 coming soon~

[rillabrooke]

2024 Reading List

The Curse of Pietro Houdini - Derek B. Miller

Far From the Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy

All Creatures Great and Small - James Herriot

The Hobbit - J.R.R. Tolkien

Death on the Nile - Agatha Christie

Just Stab Me Now - Jill Bearup

The Words and Music of Paul Simon - James Bennighof**

The Paul Simon Companion: Four Decades of Commentary - Stacey Luftig**

Gone Girl - Gillian Flynn

The Zookeepers' War: An Incredible True Story from the Cold War - J.W. Mohnhaupt

The Lightning Thief - Rick Riordan

The Screaming Staircase - Jonathan Stroud

Tress of the Emerald Sea - Brandon Sanderson

The Sea of Monsters - Rick Riordan

Shadow and Bone - Leigh Bardugo

The Whispering Skull - Jonathan Stroud

King Lear - William Shakespeare

The Duke and I - Julia Quinn

Macbeth - William Shakespeare

Siege and Storm - Leigh Bardugo

Redeeming Love - Francine Rivers

The Titan's Curse - Rick Riordan

Six of Crows - Leigh Bardugo

The Thursday Murder Club - Richard Osman

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society - Mary Ann Shaffer & Annie Barrows

The Battle of the Labyrinth - Rick Riordan

The Fellowship of the Ring - J.R.R. Tolkien

We Have Always Lived in the Castle - Shirley Jackson

The Queen's Gambit - Walter Tevis

The Hollow Boy - Jonathan Stroud

Lessons in Chemistry - Bonnie Garmus

Dracula - Bram Stoker*

Project Hail Mary - Andy Weir

* reread ** for school

[somefanficrecomendations]

September Monthly Recap

SUPERNATURAL

dumb luck or good ghost by ShanaStoryteller (gen), 20k, Boy King of Hell!Sam, AU-Canon Divergence Dean wakes up after the accident and his father tells him that Sammy is dead.

The Mixtape, Or: Six Things You Learn in Thursday School by Amiril (Castiel/Dean Winchester), 6k, Post-Canon      History passes into legend— but without the Winchester Gospels, that legend must be assembled from the notes of Prophets and Hunters. Human society and the English language may take a few wandering turns along the way, but one thing is a constant: people will always argue about Canon.      Or: God got beat up and replaced by his grandson. You could make a religion out of that.

you drink light with your hands all winter by Amiril (Castiel/Dean Winchester), 1k, Post-Canon      “I can’t keep doing this.” God says it like this as though it is He, not Death, who is bound by the nature’s laws. He says it as though the world is not what He wants it to be. He says it as though He means it.      “Please,” Death says. There’s a scythe heavy on his back, and a bundle of souls in the crook of his elbow. “Please, Sammy.”

The violet hour by Zooey_Glass (gen), 5k, Trans!Dean, Transphobia In the bright glare of the overhead light it's impossible to ignore what he's been seeing all along: the broad, masculine shape of his sister's shoulders underneath the jacket.

X-MEN

I'll see your heart (and I'll raise you mine) by sirona (multi), 43k, AU-Modern Setting, Action & Adventure For Kriminalhauptkommissar Erik Lehnsherr, this case will change everything.

The Line in the Sand by ikeracity (Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier), 8k, BAMF!Charles The CIA agents on the base are bullying the children, mocking them for their mutations. Charles will not tolerate it.       Or: Charles has a line, and the agents cross it. Several times. And Erik discovers that perhaps Charles is not so much of a pacifistic pushover as he appears.

Come to Me Like Destiny by MinaSark (Remy LeBeau/Rouge), 57k, Fake Relationship Tante Mattie once told Remy that he wouldn’t recognize destiny if it fell out of the sky and crashed right on top of him…      …which is why when—after a loud crack and startled yelp—someone fell down from the tree directly above his head, the normally well-attuned thief didn’t even see it coming.

Shining Armour by Woethe (Logan/Scott Summers), 9k, Trapped in Elevator      At the end of the day, he could only really blame himself. He was the one to ask the Professor in the first place how Logan was getting on, if just to make sure he was taking care of his motorcycle.      Now he's spending his Saturday night lugging around 300 pounds of unresponsive adamantium.

SPIDER-MAN

In For A Penny by gender_bender08 (Harry Osborne/Peter Parker), 6k, Team Red, Vigilantism       Peter meets Daredevil when the man saves him from a shootout. He meets Deadpool when the guy’s trying to steal a car. He meets the Punisher when Red brings him to the gym. He meets Jessica Jones when she corners him on a streetlight. He meets Hawkeye when Jessica’s hired to solve one of his assassinations.       All of this to say, he meets a lot of people before he meets Tony Stark.

HARRY POTTER

Three's Family by darkbluedark (multi), 19k, Time Travel, Humor      It’s May 1979 and the Order has just apprehended a pair of mysterious wizards who look remarkably like a Potter and a Malfoy. Naturally, James Potter and Sirius Black are called in to identify the strangely familiar strangers and determine their backgrounds and loyalties.      (This would be a lot easier if their captives weren’t convinced everyone they talk to is dead. It would also be easier if they didn’t spend half their bloody time bickering.) **      “Just ask them questions only they would know the answer to,” Malfoy suggests.      “There’s not a single thing that I know about either of them from the first war that any old Death Eater couldn’t find out.”      “How is that possible?” Malfoy huffs. “He’s your father!”      “Am I or am I not famously an orphan?” Potter snarls.

CROSSOVER

All of Me by SpencerRemyLvr Criminal Minds x X-Men, (Remy LeBeau/Spencer Reid) 55k, Case Fic, Hurt/Comfort Spencer Reid was a thief. He’d been a thief for years, right up until the day a job went bad and he met Jason Gideon. With no other choice open to him, Spencer joined the Bureau and left everything behind. But now, that part of his life is coming back to haunt him. When an old friend turns up and tells Spencer that the only person he’s ever loved, the person he regretted leaving behind more than anything else, is missing, Spencer moves Heaven and Hell to get him back, even if it means giving up everything.

[balioc]

BALIOC'S READING LIST, 2023 EDITION

This list counts only published books, consumed in published-book format, that I read for the first time and finished. No rereads, nothing abandoned halfway through, no Internet detritus of any kind, etc. Also no children’s picture books.

(There were so many children's picture books.)

Hand of the Sun King, J. T. Greathouse

Anne of Green Gables, Lucy Maud Montgomery

The Circus of Dr. Lao, Charles G. Finney

When the Angels Left the Old Country, Sacha Lamb

Strangers to Ourselves: Unsettled Minds and the Stories That Make Us, Rachel Aviv

Elder Race, Adrian Tchaikovsky

Yamada Monogatari: Troubled Spirits, Richard Parks

Victory City, Salman Rushdie

Achieving Our Country: Leftist Thought in Twentieth-Century America, Richard Rorty

Cage of Souls, Adrian Tchaikovsky

A Morbid Taste for Bones, Ellis Peters

One Corpse Too Many, Ellis Peters

Priest of Bones, Peter McLean

Priest of Lies, Peter McLean

Demon Summoner: Apprentice, Greg Walters

By the Sword: A History of Gladiators, Musketeers, Samurai, Swashbucklers, and Olympic Champions, Richard Cohen

Tsalmoth, Steven Brust

Priest of Gallows, Peter McLean

Priest of Crowns, Peter McLean

Waybound, Will Wight

Convenience Store Woman, Sayaka Murata

The Tatami Galaxy, Tomihiko Morimi

These Violent Delights, Chloe Gong

Death in Venice, Thomas Mann

Alchemy: The Dark Art and Curious Science of Creating Magic in Brands, Business, and Life, Rory Sutherland

The Man Who Was Thursday, G. K. Chesterton

Storming Heaven, Miles Cameron

Against Worldbuilding, and Other Provocations: Essays on History, Narrative and Game Design, Alexis Kennedy

From Ritual to Romance, Jessie L. Weston

To the Lighthouse, Virginia Woolf

Rats and Gargoyles, Mary Gentle

Labyrinth's Heart, M. A. Carrick

Sex at Dawn: How We Mate, Why We Stray, and What It Means for Modern Relationships, Christopher Ryan and Cacilda Jetha

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow, Gabrielle Zevin

The Long, Long Goodbye of "The Last Bookstore," Mizuki Nomura

The Last Sun, K. D. Edwards

The Hanged Man, K. D. Edwards

The Hourglass Throne, K. D. Edwards

Pinocchio, Carlo Collodi

The Thirteen Petalled Rose: A Discourse on the Essence of Jewish Existence and Belief, Adin Steinsaltz

The Lightning Thief, Rick Riordan

A City on Mars: Can We Settle Space, Should We Settle Space, and Have We Really Thought This Through?, Kelly and Zach Weinersmith

Untethered Sky, Fonda Lee

The Consolation of Philosophy, Boethius

The Star-Child, Oscar Wilde

Monk's Hood, Ellis Peters

St. Peter's Fair, Ellis Peters

The Leper of St. Giles, Ellis Peters

The Virgin in the Ice, Ellis Peters

The Nutcracker, E. T. A. Hoffman and Alexandre Dumas

The Sanctuary Sparrow, Ellis Peters

Child of God, Cormac McCarthy

The Devil's Novice, Ellis Peters

Dead Man's Ransom, Cormac McCarthy

Plausible works of improving nonfiction consumed in 2023: 10

["plausible" and "improving" are being defined very liberally here]

Balioc's Choice Award, Fiction Division: The Circus of Dr. Lao, Charles G. Finney

>>>> Honorable Mention: Rats and Gargoyles, Mary Gentle

[This seems like the correct place to point out that, for the Balioc's Choice Awards, I consider only works that were first published with the last 100 years. Otherwise it would just be "surprise, old classics are often classics for a reason."]

Balioc's Choice Award, Nonfiction Division: The Thirteen Petalled Rose: A Discourse on the Essence of Jewish Existence and Belief, Adin Steinsaltz

>>>> Honorable Mention: A City on Mars: Can We Settle Space, Should We Settle Space, and Have We Really Thought This Through?, Kelly and Zach Weinersmith

The Roscommon Princess Award for Luminous Trembling Beauty in the Face of a Bleakly Mundane World: The Star-Child, Oscar Wilde

The Anguished Howl Award for Somehow Making Me Regret Reading a Book About a Demon Summoner in the Thirty Years' War: Demon Summoner: Apprentice, Greg Walters

The Tamsyn Muir Award for Demonstrating that Popularity Really, Really, Really is Not the Same Thing as Quality: The Lightning Thief, Rick Riordan

The G. K. Chesterton Award for Being G. K. Chesterton, I Mean, to Whom Else Could I Compare Him, For Someone So Avowedly Stodgy He is the Ballsiest Motherfucker I Have Ever Read: The Man Who Was Thursday, G. K. Chesterton

**********

...this year was much like the last several years, only somehow even more so. Not in a good way, I fear. My current lifestyle continues not to be super-conducive to reading, and writing a weekendlong LARP kind of knocked the wind out of me, both during and after. If it weren't for a massive silly-fun historical-mystery binge in December, my numbers here would be shameful. And you will notice that a whole lot of the things on that list are very short.

Most of the contemporary fiction was pretty much what I expected it to be. There were few real standouts. Things by good authors continued to be mostly good; things by shlocky authors continued to be shlock.

I should probably drive less for my various solitary recreational jaunts, just so that I can spend more of that time with a book. I should definitely read more old stuff, because old stuff continues to be the most reliably rewarding. (The cream of the cream of the old stuff, anyway, which is...what you read.)

I continue to be Extremely In the Market for recommendations of really good, deeply-informative nonfiction.

[dnickels]

I was listening to a very good podcast and it come me thinking about Henry V and Endeavour-- obviously Russ (may I call you Russ, Mr. Lewis?) is having a little fun with Roger Allam's wonderful performance as Falstaff, but what does it mean, to position Morse as Hal in their definitive rupture? To draw that immediate and direct comparison (I know thee not, old man)? Thursday is a killer (a murderer, if the semantics are important) and has a number of other flaws we've known since the first episode, but is he Falstaff? Thursday's not a drunk. He's not a thief. He's flirted with prioritizing his own comfort and personal wealth over his duty, but he's not a coward. A bully, maybe, on occasion, but a bully in someone else's service and operating under an ideology of 'preserving social order', which doesn't make much difference to whoever he's beating up today but its relevant for literary critique.

So when Morse rejects Thursday, what is he meant to be rejecting here? He's hardly a Prince Hal himself, outside of his problem drinking. And Morse is undeniably a moral actor and scrupulously so, but Morse of his later years is hardly a white-horse-riding rousing-speech "the mirror of all Christian kings". I could see an argument for Morse as Harry in a negative reading of Henry V, where there are questions about the justification of his war and the single-mindedness with which he pursues it, or Morse deluding himself into thinking he's ever going to win his long, endless siege at Harfleur. He did spend his thirties desperately trying to die leading various forlorn hopes, and perhaps no longer knows what to do with himself.

But looking at the denunciation in the pub compared to Hal's dismissal (and banishment!) of Falstaff more literally, there's a thread to pull apart: the prince is putting away childish things to become a man, to finally clean his act up and take up the mantle of duty he's spent the play dodging. It's ludicrous to say Morse has been thus far neglecting his duties, but here I think we see the apotheosis of the cranky old man: rejecting Thursday, no longer looking the other way on his little (and big) peccadilloes, means closing his heart to everything the Thursdays plural-- Fred, Win, Joan, and Ringo-- brought back into his life after his breakdowns and directionless drifting. He's going to take up the sword. Hal ascends to Harry, but Morse seals his own fate. He'll make Inspector, but at what cost? If he starts to believe that Fred was his Falstaff, leading him astray, he'll lose that fragile ability to trust, to be open, to make a connection that lasts.

What infinite heart’s ease Must kings neglect that private men enjoy?

Long story short: Watch My Show

[mykidself]

96 Albums I listened to, and was deeply into or deeply impacted by, age 5-18, in (roughly) chronological order. Made with Topsters.

List of artists and album titles behind the cut.

1. The Beatles - With The Beatles

2. Peter Gabriel - Shaking the Tree

3. Various Artists - The Lion King

4. Elton John - Elton John's Greatest Hits

5. Original London Cast - Phantom Of The Opera

6. Hanson - Middle Of Nowhere

7. The Wallflowers - Bringing Down The Horse

8. Smash Mouth - Astro Lounge

9. Sugar Ray - 14:59

10. Third Eye Blind - Third Eye Blind

11. Third Eye Blind - Blue

12. Vertical Horizon - Everything You Want

13. Green Day - Dookie

14. blink-182 - The Mark, Tom And Travis Show

15. Built to Spill - Keep It Like a Secret

16. Our Lady Peace - Clumsy

17. Red Hot Chili Peppers - Californication

18. Foo Fighters - The Colour and the Shape

19. Nirvana - Nevermind

20. Goo Goo Dolls - Dizzy Up the Girl

21. Limp Bizkit - Chocolate Starfish and the Hot Dog Flavored Water

22. Linkin Park - Hybrid Theory

23. Papa Roach - Infest

24. Staind - Break the Cycle

25. Alien Ant Farm - Anthology

26. Sum 41 - All Killer No Filler

27. P.O.D. - Satellite

28. System of a Down - Toxicity

29. Howard Shore - The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

30. System of a Down - System of a Down

31. Staind - Dysfunction

32. R.E.M. - Automatic for the People

33. Jimmy Eat World - Bleed American

34. Sum 41 - Does This Look Infected?

35. System of a Down - Steal This Album!

36. blink-182 - Take Off Your Pants and Jacket

37. Tool - Lateralus

38. Tool - Ænima

39. Tool - Undertow

40. Deftones - White Pony

41. Evanescence - Fallen

42. 36 Crazyfists - Bitterness the Star

43. A Perfect Circle - Thirteenth Step

44. A Perfect Circle - Mer De Noms

45. Porcupine Tree - In Absentia

46. dredg - El Cielo

47. Pink Floyd - The Dark Side Of The Moon

48. Pink Floyd - The Wall

49. Radiohead - Kid A

50. Depeche Mode - Violator

51. Opeth - Blackwater Park

52. Opeth - Damnation

53. Opeth - Deliverance

54. The Ataris - So Long, Astoria

55. The Ataris - Blue Skies, Broken Hearts...Next 12 Exits

56. The Ataris - End Is Forever

57. Box Car Racer - Box Car Racer

58. Jimmy Eat World - Clarity

59. The Early November - The Room's Too Cold

60. Further Seems Forever - The Moon is Down

61. Finch - What It Is to Burn

62. Thursday - War All The Time

63. Modest Mouse - Good News For People Who Love Bad News

64. Staind - 14 Shades of Grey

65. Bright Eyes - Lifted or The Story Is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground

66. Bright Eyes - Fevers and Mirrors

67. Elliott Smith - XO

68. Elliott Smith - Either/Or

69. Radiohead - Hail to the Thief

70. Radiohead - The Bends

71. Coheed and Cambria - In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3

72. Coheed and Cambria - The Second Stage Turbine Blade

73. Queen - Greatest Hits

74. The Decemberists - Picaresque

75. The Decemberists - Castaways and Cutouts

76. The Decemberists - Her Majesty the Decemberists

77. Jonathan Larson - Rent

78. The Dresden Dolls - The Dresden Dolls

79. Rilo Kiley - More Adventurous

80. AFI - Sing the Sorrow

81. Regina Spektor - Soviet Kitsch

82. Green Day - American Idiot

83. Jimmy Eat World - Futures

84. System of a Down - Hypnotize

85. System of a Down - Mezmerize

86. The Magnetic Fields - 69 Love Songs

87. Nine Inch Nails - With Teeth

88. The Beatles - Love

89. Neutral Milk Hotel - In the Aeroplane Over the Sea

90. Arcade Fire - Funeral

91. Death Cab for Cutie - Transatlanticism

92. Modest Mouse - We Were Dead Before The Ship Even Sank

93. Radiohead - OK Computer

94. Elliott Smith - Figure 8

95. Elliott Smith - From a Basement on the Hill

96. Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here

[setsuntamew]

Otakon 2023 - Day 0 Recap

DAY 0 WAS SO FUN!!!!!

We made the very smart plan to go down today and get our badges, instead of wasting a chunk of Friday in the pickup line. And it was a very good idea; it went sooooo smoothly and quickly. I got all my accessibility stuff taken care of, too, so waiting in line for the Studio Orange panel on Saturday should go smoothly :D

So after picking up badges, we sat sorta near the entrance and watched people go by. I love watching cosplayers go by and seeing everyone's stuff, and I'm always impressed by people who get fully in cosplay for Thursday of all days. I ended up wearing my Millennium Ring because I wanted something fun, and I also wore Thief King's coat until I was too hot.

We eventually got hungry and went to dinner, which ended up being an exercise in pain because it was so fucking hot sobs. Maybe I shouldn't have been wearing a long sleeve coat in 97 degree weather, but maybe I'm just not smart XD Pat found the place and it was only about 10 minutes away, but I was cursing him out at about 2/3 of the way there because I was so overheated ;w; It ended up being really good, so all was forgiven. Pat had a particularly good mango margarita!!

On the way back to the con center, we stopped at CVS so I could get a 5 hour energy - because I left all of mine in Baltimore - and I got fucked carded at the self checkout. Apparently you have to be 21 to buy them??? So that was funny to me XD

ANYWAY. We finally get back to the con center and see the Legato cosplayer I was trying to meet up with...having a photoshoot outside the building, as you do. It was really nice to meet up with them!!!! I got to share my millionsummers fic booklets and Liz's Legato zine :D And then one of their friends recognized my XiYao ita bag and mentioned that they liked SangCheng, and Liz was able to produce a SangCheng fic from my bag of mysteries uwu We're gonna see them again tomorrow (hopefully!) at the Trigun shoot *w*

It looked kinda overcast, so I made the decision to head home. Which was good! It started raining as we are trying to get into the parking garage XD

[areweevercameraready]

more than beliefs (11: a girl worth fighting for)

A/N: happy thursday!

WARNINGS: a bit of a scuffle and a black eye — i don't think there's much else but, as usual, if you spot something and think it should be flagged, please let me know!

Words: 5,884

here it is on AO3!

here are the MtB masterpost and the full Chivalry series masterpost!

enjoy!!

As much as Roman had mentioned her, none of them really thought the Dragon Witch would be a real person. Or, rather, real character. Someone this real. A house. A role. 

She was draped in very regal, medieval clothing. A scarf was wrapped around her hair, so long that the ends billowed and glittered above her cape. When she walked, it was hard to tell if her legs were moving down there or if she was just hovering in a line. Logan watched to see. He was impressed by the accuracy of her clothing. Sure, her dress was much closer to the fourteenth century than the fifth, when King Arthur allegedly ruled, but Roman must have put in a lot of thought to make her as accurate as he did to a time period, at least. And Logan was pretty sure that was an accurate way of pinning a headscarf. Roman must have done his research. Or Remus, because he seemed familiar with her.

Remus was chatting away in answer of her questions. Given that her home was on his side, it was probably safe to assume he knew her. Maybe they were friendly, even. That made her seem a little less of a stranger, like he were following the connected threads between them, though it still made her seem hostile. Someone that was friendly toward Roman and Remus both. Everyone was still trying to wrap their heads around the idea that the twins were friendly toward each other. Remus had seemed so concerned about his brother. 

Out of all of them, Janus just wanted to talk with Roman. That’s all. 

There hasn’t exactly been opportunity for it given Romans hatred of him now. But it was warranted somewhat. But if only Roman could understand that it was for Thomas’ good, that it was for the best.

If only he’d allow Janus to make his case. This was just so frustrating. 

And none of these advisors WERE Roman. Yes, it was good to talk with them, to hear bits and pieces of what Roman thought of him. The Damsel’s assertion (or, rather, laughter) over how little Roman liked him was enough to fully convince him that he needed to talk with Roman specifically. Not any part of him. No fragmented communication was as useful or as thorough as a direct conversation. But, well. Thomas nor Roman were known for their abilities of confrontation.

As they walked deeper into the cave, the sides began straightening and smoothing out, jagged red surfaces turning into carved walls. At some point, the torches and lanterns shifted into chandelier lights, and the scorched rock beneath their feet turned into a thick gray rug. 

The Damsel and the Thief were following closely after her as well. Janus brought up the rear, continuing to hide from view, but he wanted to get a better view. Virgil was next up at the front, eyeing everything with an air of distrust. This was technically Remus’ side, that’s where she lived. But this newcomer, the Witch, seemed to be influenced by both Creativities. Virgil was trying to size her up. 

“Should we introduce ourselves?” Patton whispered to Logan while they walked. 

It must not have been quiet enough because she turned to look over her shoulder at them. Patton let out a small “meep,” but she chuckled warmly. 

“You don’t have to, but you can if you would like. I know who you are, Morality,” the Witch had a cackle in her voice, just a little foreboding. 

“Makes sense. Did Roman tell you about us?” Virgil asked. 

She nodded. “A lot more than you would think. And Remus. I’ve heard a lot about you all over the years.”

Logan tilted his head at the phrasing. “Over the years?” he repeated. “How long have you existed?”

To that, the Dragon Witch just grinned. It was hard to tell if she meant it to be intimidating or if that happened accidentally, because she had rows of jagged dragon teeth. “Longer than you would expect, Logic.”

He glanced to the side, swallowing the excess water in his mouth. The motion made her laugh, at least, and she waved her hand.

“I was among the first forms that the Imagination made. Back when…Before Roman and Remus,” she sighed, looking back down the hall. “Come. The others are waiting for us.”

The Witch continued walking down the hall and, now, Remus was quiet. He was skipping, but he looked back at all of them with some kind of smugness. 

Happy that they understood. Or, rather, were going to understand. Maybe they understood nothing. These fuckers were SO confident in their everythings that when things like this, people like Vi and things like the Tree, evidence of their depth, whenever that was displayed, they all seemed to lose it. And Remus kind of reveled in it? He loved throwing them off, surprising them. It wasn’t that hard. But it felt fulfilling. 

Roman needed their help, though. Remus scowled at the thought, but that didn’t change how true it was. That’s half what he was, he was the truth-teller, he was the one without secrets. Without things to hide. He was an open book and the writing on the pages. Roman was the actor, the one who wanted no one to know anything about the reality of him. Remus was only ever a secret because no one, not Janus, not Thomas, no one ever wanted to ask.

Oh, he was going to beat the ever loving shit out of Roman for making him be responsible like this. Oh! The fucking nerve! 

At the end of the hall was an ornate door and a very normal looking shoe rack, almost homely, almost intimidating. Vi didn’t take off any shoes but Remus immediately dropped to the floor, one leg kicking out in a death drop, and then began trying to pull his knee-length boots off. 

Virgil, out of everyone, snorted at the motion. He’d been digging his nails into his palms for the whole walk, trying to size the Dragon Witch up. Unlike the Dragon or even the Damsel, it was hard. She was nothing like how she looked. Like, right now she just looked really pristine. But when she was a dragon, she was bigger than THE Dragon. Virgil had felt her nails. And she had Remus batting for her. 

It was enough of a threat that she was friends with Remus. But she was also with Roman. 

That was important, all of them were thinking. 

What did it mean, she’d known Remus and Roman before they were two separates? They could barely remember Creativity, when he was around. The split had happened when they were so young, when they first started daydreaming, really. Patton remembered him the most, but…only the wonder and the horror. 

They all had slowly taken off their shoes, dropping them near the shoe rack. Once everyone’s shoes were off, the Dragon Witch waved a hand toward the door, and its lock clicked unceremoniously. Inside was a homely foyer, like the inside of a Victorian house. Not much like a cave. 

Patton was the first in, as usual, looking around with less apprehension and more curiosity. He was followed almost immediately by Remus, who barged in and shouted, “HEY FUCKOS, GUESS WHO’S HOME!”

Logan took a moment to organize the shoes in a row out of the way of the hall, the last one into the house. Once he was in, the door snapped shut, with the Dragon Witch still standing by it. 

“Thank you,” she hummed. “You’re very organized.”

Logan didn’t know how to feel about that. He tried not to. “I do appreciate order,” he agreed. 

At that, she chuckled.

“AYOOOOOO REMUS,” they heard the Dragon shout from around an opening forward. It looked like it led to a kitchen of sorts. 

“You’re very afraid of disorder. I don’t know why. It doesn’t bite,” the Dragon Witch continued with Logan, and then she gestured toward the opening, saying louder for everyone, “Everyone’s in the dining room.”

The Sides didn’t seem very ready to move on. The foyer was huge, photos lining the walls, a coatrack with some cloaks and jackets that could belong to either of the twins. Patton was looking over the photos, many of which looked like paintings. Virgil was to one of his sides, eyeing Janus, who was at the other. 

The twins had managed to hide all of this. Janus’ eyes were glued to a photo, an old one, a polaroid that was framed. It was of Roman and Remus, both maybe ten years old. They were holding foam swords and standing on top of a dragon, looking proud — the very same Dragon Witch who was ushering them into the dining area.

“Everyone’s here. They bring updates, so I’ve heard,” the Dragon Witch explained as she drifted into the dining area.

The Thief and the Damsel were first to lead the pack in, but their departure drew Logan. The room was an interesting look into a past that none of them were privy to. Remus followed close behind, familiar with these things.

Around the room were mementos of the past. Family photos of Remus and Roman as children. As teenagers. The Dragon Witch in the background and holding hands with both, her hands curling over both of their shoulders like a proud mother. There were a few paintings and decor on the walls, too. One of Remus and Roman standing over her dragon form, as if having won a fight, and even she looked happy about it.

Patton stayed by the wall, eyes turned upward at everything. There was so much history here, so much he hadn’t known. They hadn’t even known Roman and Remus were friends, really. They seemed to not like each other quite a bit. So this was interesting. Even hearing the Damsel was calling Remus in to help was unexpected. But…well. He shouldn’t assume to know everything about Roman, right, after all of this. 

It was settling in, how much they’d all assumed. How much he’d assumed, Patton specifically. He thought he knew enough about Roman to be able to guess what he might be thinking or what he might want…but if he didn’t even know what Roman’s relationship to Remus looked like…

How much was Roman hiding? How much of his own feelings was he hiding? 

Had he been hiding them at all? Had Patton just not been looking, not been paying attention? Had none of them been paying enough attention? 

Had none of them asked? Even Virgil seemed surprised by everything, and Virgil had been on Roman’s side.

The Bard was helping bandage something on the Artist’s shoulder, his paint-covered hoodie sitting on the ground by his feet. It looks like they’d gotten into a scuffle with one of Remus’ creations, to which Remus acknowledged with a loud snort. The Artist shot him a glare. 

“Don’t hate the player,” Remus put his hands up in mock surrender. 

At least the playful sentiment got the Artist to roll his eyes. It must be a familiar argument. 

The Thief shuffled besides the Bard, who looked up to him with a wan grin. 

“Hey, hey,” he greeted, voice soft, but the smile dropped as he saw the Thief’s expression. “What’s wrong?”

The Thief, jaw firmly set, looked away. 

The Damsel, too, grimaced. Neither of them seemed to want to say anything about it. 

Janus would have been fine breaking the news had he not been wary of the other advisors being upset with him. Logan opened his mouth to explain, but the Dragon interrupted. 

“Wait,” the Dragon asked, wings falling to his sides with a scowl. “Where’s Gavin?” 

The Artist perked up, brow furrowing, and the Bard blinked in surprise. His eyes scanned through the crowd again — Virgil shoved his hands further into his pockets, dreading the upcoming confrontation — before he turned around to the Thief again. 

“....Eric, I’m so sorry,” the Bard whispered, tucking the final bit of bandage around the Artist’s arm quickly. “Eric, baby.”

The Artist stood, stepping away from the Bard and the Thief as he put his clothing back on. When he moved away, the Thief all but collapsed into his vacant seat, and the Bard quickly wrapped his arms around the Thief’s cloaked figure.

They pressed into each other, the Bard biting his lip worriedly, and the Thief just…curled up. His arms pressed into his chest and he fought against the safety of the Bard’s embrace, trying to keep himself from crying, because if he thought too hard about how he’d failed the Child…

“The Child has gone missing,” Logan explained, voice more gentle, now. 

No one interrupted. The Dragon nodded, mouth pressed into a firm line. The Damsel had shuffled to sit at the table beside him and he knocked his crowned head against the Dragon’s hip. 

“Do you have any-any theories, Logan? I have one, but I would-I am interested in-in your analysis,” the Damsel invited. 

Oh. Logan tried to keep his surprise to a minimum, but it was difficult. He hadn’t anticipated being called on like that. 

Patton wrapped his arm around Logan’s, though kept quiet, as if he understood how big this moment was. As if it were anything at all. Virgil sat down; Janus elected to stand closer to the Dragon Witch. The animosity was lowest here. 

“Well,” Logan began, clearing his throat. “Evidence tells us that something happened to the Playwright. And regardless of if he’d gone willingly to his assailant, it would stand to reason that, should they attack again, they would expect your guards to be up. Two is unlikely to be a coincidence, in this situation. I would hazard…that it could be three. That perhaps the Playwright and the Child are in the same place as Roman.”

The Damsel nodded in agreement, lips pursed. Janus, too, hummed softly. They were all on the same wavelength. They didn’t know where Roman went, but with advisors being kidnapped, it was all the more reason to believe either Roman too was kidnapped, or Roman…might be doing the kidnapping. To what ends, though? And is he alone?

“Hey, Eric,” the Artist asked. 

He’d put his jacket back on and was rotating the shoulder that the Bard had just bandaged. He wasn’t as much of a tactical fighter as he was a no-holds-barred-anything-goes fighter. He was struck and he’d live with that injury, since the Bard was trying to conserve energy. And his arms were full of the Thief. If only the Playwright were here, though….

The Thief turned ever so slightly toward the Artist, and Virgil got the sinking suspicion that no matter what the Artist asked, it wouldn’t end well. The Artist must have had a similar understanding, because he put his hands up in as nonthreatening a way as he could.

“I don’t mean this in like, a judgemental way, but…what happened?” 

Oh, god. No. 

Janus winced at the question, and Virgil hunched more in on himself. He was sitting by the Damsel, almost hidden behind him, with Patton to his other side. Hopefully this wouldn’t be too explosive. 

Whatever contrarian energy the Thief may have had earlier dissipated, though, as his shoulders slumped. Maybe it was the precursor that the Artist wasn’t trying to accuse, and maybe it was because they were searching for the same thing.

“Gav and I had an argument. He…He wanted to go out, help find Playwright with you all. I said we had to stay safe, stay home, keep everyone else out of trouble,” the Thief’s voice was heavy with grief as he explained. “I…when I was washing the dishes, I lost track of him. Or maybe even before that. I didn’t even hear the door open.”

He shook his head. The Artist winced at the explanation, as did the Dragon. And the Bard gave the Thief a squeeze. 

It seemed that everyone knew how harsh this blow was to him. Logan wondered, what did this mean for everyone, that they were so intertwined. What was the impact on Roman. You’d hope that it meant Roman was at ease with himself. 

After all, everyone was working together here. But Roman was the only outlier, he seemed to be in disagreement with all of them. 

There were rarely moments where Thomas was in disagreement with all of the Sides. Considering how these advisors were like Sides to Roman…Logan rubbed his jaw a little in thought. 

Thomas would turn on most of them if he was listening to one specifically. Similar to the play years ago, the one Deceit disguised as Patton had them put on, Thomas was only paying attention to one Side. 

Perhaps Roman was listening to only one of them. 

But all seven were here, in agreement, and Roman was nowhere to be found.

Were there seven?

“We didn’t find much over here,” the Artist confessed. “Just got here, actually, a few minutes before y’all.”

It felt like an effort to change to a more productive topic. The Artist blew out a long exhale before shaking his head. “I’m sorry, man. We’re going to find them.”

“I don’t know who…” the Thief’s voice trailed off. 

“I’m telling you, I didn’t do anything with anyone, and no one I’ve made’d really do that. Everyone with a brain knows not to meddle with you meddlesome kids!” Remus squeaked in dismay, and then he cocked his head to the side in thought. Then, he shook his head again. “Nope, none’ve them’d.”

“Them’d?” the Damsel asked, and Remus snorted at him. 

“I haven’t noticed anyone traversing too oddly, other than the border dweller. And even he’s been more reclusive lately,” the Dragon Witch agreed with a hum. 

“Oh, a new border dweller? You’ve got a neighbor?” Remus asked. 

Logan looked up immediately. That would make sense.

“We should stay on—” the Damsel tried to interrupt, but the Dragon Witch let out a small chuckle in continuation. His authority meant less here, anyway. And meant less to the Dragon Witch.

For good reason, too. “No, no, Roman’s border. The advisor,” the Dragon Witch waved a clawed hand. “He’s been lovely the few times we’ve spoken, but he’s a bit paranoid. He might know something.”

The word advisor sat with everyone for a long while. It took some understanding at the insinuation. 

An advisor, who lived near the border between Roman and Remus’ edges of the Imagination. The Damsel frowned in confusion at the Dragon Witch, mouthing “border?” to himself. The Dragon must not have caught the insinuation at all, because he seemed even more confused by everyone else’s silence. 

Slowly, the Thief peeled off the Bard with a squinted, teary-eyed face to stare at the Dragon Witch. Even the Artist was watching her, brow pinched but mouth hanging open. 

“Excuse me?” the Bard asked, teeth gritted. He seemed to have made the connection first. “Sorry, advisor like. Like us, advisor?”

“That’s who Roman has been listening to,” Logan said. 

Patton frowned, nudging his side gently. “What do you mean?”

“If the advisors are Roman’s Sides….well, we’ve seen what happens when Thomas only considers the opinions of one of us. He acts drastically and without much forethought. Roman seems to be acting the same way,” Logan explained, though he kept his gaze on the agitated advisors watching him. “It means he could be solely listening to another advisor.”

The Dragon Witch must not have known this border dweller was new, because she looked worried. She put a hand over her mouth and turned aside, breaking eye contact with the Bard.

He winced, waving his hand and approaching. “Hey. Hey, Vi. Do you mean advisor like us?”

“....Yes. No wonder he’s not here,” she responded. “I thought you knew of him. He mentioned he’s met some of you.”

The other advisors were missing something. Some sort of crucial information, some epiphany, some kind of connection, because it looked like something was happening in the brains of all of Roman’s advisors. The Dragon’s confused frown turned angry, the Damsel’s hardened into a scowl. The Bard was helpless, frown tight and nostrils flared as he glanced at the Artist, whose eyes were wide. His mouth was slightly open still, but now from breathing. 

Virgil reached over and held his hand. At the very least, the Artist gripped back tight. All this tension was going to make the search later a lot harder, no one’d be able to focus.

The only person who seemed to not be angry was the Thief, who had been staring idly at the Dragon Witch’s feet, eyebrows raising. He must have been making some kind of realization, though, because his hand shot up to his mouth. 

“Oh my god,” the Thief mumbled, voice muffled. “Oh my god, I think I’ve met him.”

The Artist turned so hard his back cracked, and he winced in pain, though he was undeterred from shouting, “YOU HAVE?”

The Thief nodded, eyes closing tight. He hadn’t thought it was real, but if this was someone new, someone who lived by the edge, and was going to start kidnapping them all….well. He always thought he was just good at escaping things. “I…I thought he was…I’ve-I probably have. Maybe I’m going insane. I don’t know. But I think I’ve been-I’ve had dreams where I wake up at the edge. And if there’s one of us that lives there, that’s on the border into the Subconscious normally, then it’s him. It has to be. It can’t not be.”

A dream. It sounded less plausible the more they turned it over in their minds. Janus scoffed — a dream — and Logan bit his tongue to not say anything, but the reality of their situation was damning. 

It didn’t sound likely that a dream was where this mysterious eighth would introduce themselves, though dreams were as real as reality here. More than just the other Sides must have drawn this conclusion, because the Damsel pointedly put his hands behind his back, shoulders stiff and hiked. Guarding his own thoughts, as always. Or maybe guarding himself from the riling Artist, whose hands were pulling through his hair hard enough to pull his bun out of order.

“I’d’ve thought the one of us who knew him was Playwright,” the Artist shouted finally. “That fucker was always knowing more than he ever fucking said. He fucking-God DAMNIT.”

The Dragon leaned over, putting his hands on the Artist’s back in as comforting a way as he could, but the Artist just let go of Virgil’s hand and shrugged the Dragon’s hands off of himself. He jumped to his feet, pacing with his fists curled. Anger dripped off him. 

The colors on his sweater, swirling and abstract, tinged orange. “He fucking-He promised Roman he’d find all of us. He probably fucking found this other guy—Vi, what’s his name?” 

Everyone’s eyes returned to the Dragon Witch, who’d backed up a step. Her hands smoothed down the front of her shirt and she cleared her throat softly. It was something more painful than fear that danced in her expression as she played with the hem of her cape.

“He called himself the Director,” she confessed. “I’m so sorry, I…when I met him, he seemed level-headed. I didn’t expect this of him.”

The Director. As ominous a name as the Damsel, or the Dragon, or the Thief. Their titles were telling. 

The Damsel turned the name over in his head. Director. Someone who sees themselves as a leader. But not in the same way as a Prince, no. They see it as fake. As a facade that they run and, well, more than lead. Direct. They have opinions. Strong ones. 

Immediately, he likens the Director to himself. And…when he was formed, he had some pretty objectionable goals. With the disappearance of the Playwright and the Child gone…with Roman gone…could this Director be a catalyst of some sort? Some other conflict-resolution member? Why would he be hiding in the woods? Why would he have waited all this time?

Had he been alone, holed up by himself, when the likeness to Roman faded away? Had the brown hair and brown eyes, charming voice and sturdy posture, faded away into something else without him understanding why? It had ostensibly been years since then, though the Sides only experienced it in mere months. Did Roman know about him? Or had Roman happened upon him? 

Did he get Roman to do this? 

Logan met his eyes in a quick glance. They must be thinking similar questions. 

They should get going. With a new player, there’s no telling what this Director would have Roman do. Even a name like that…gave implications.

“It sounds like a fair assumption, that Marlowe would know and wouldn’t say anything. He does seem the type to keep things close to his chest,” Janus quipped, shaking his head. “In any case, we should—”

The Artist’s fist collided with his snake eye before he could finish the sentence.

Janus was so surprised and there was so much energy rolled into the attack that he was knocked off his feet, stumbling backward and scooting away. Everyone was surprised; the Thief jumped to his feet, sword drawn immediately, while the Dragon’s tail wrapped around the Artist’s arm without warning. The Bard shouted, “DAVID!” in a scandalized way, just behind the Dragon while he pulled the Artist back. 

In a quick move, Janus was blocked by Virgil, whose arms were spread out in front of him. He leveled a glare at the Artist, panic and anger matched in tandem. Immediately, too, Patton hurried to Janus’ side, holding his arm and pulling him back even more into his own grip. 

The Artist’s eyes were wide, teeth grit in an angry, glaring grimace.

Virgil’s eyes were wider. His hands dropped in front of himself, preparing for the worst. If there were a fight, Virgil knew he could win. He wasn’t a fighter. Thomas wasn’t a fighter. But to protect one of them, he’d do fucking anything. 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Virgil hissed, voice dipping lower in panic. 

Logan stood by the Damsel, who was watching the scene play out. He glanced at the stoic prince, shoulders and back straight as he surveyed the turmoil, and stood solidly besides him. There wasn’t much they needed to do. 

Even while he got yanked away, the Artist’s fists were shaking, and when the Dragon wrapped him in his arms, the Artist tried pulling himself out. 

“Let me go, you stupid fucking—fuck,” he snarled. The Artist pointed rough at Janus, who was doing his best to not look over. “Keep Marlowe’s name out of your manipulative fuckin’ mouth, snake!”

The Dragon just sighed, holding him a little tighter. He cast Virgil a look that was bordering on apologetic, and Virgil didn’t move a bit. 

Behind him, Patton held Janus’ shoulders gently. Janus hadn’t expected to be attacked, no sir. He knew Roman was pissed at him, so the advisors must be mad with him, but this was out of left field. This was unexpected. He’d messed up, sure, but this was uncalled for. 

Roman was insane. He wasn’t in his right mind. Janus was fine to just say sorry and move on. Roman just had to stop being a dramatic baby, pushing him away, LITERALLY PUNCHING HIM. 

“Oh,” Patton tutted, and his thumb brushed over Janus’ cheekbone as he cupped his face. 

It was a soft hold, and Janus couldn’t help but lean into it ever so slightly. His eye was puffing up already, he could feel it. 

“That’s gonna be a black eye,” Patton assessed. “Hey, Logie, can you take a look?” 

God fucking damnit. Patton was always so gentle, so caring. 

They weren’t dating anymore. That was behind them all now. 

Patton leaned into a squat, looking back at Logan for advice, and Logan blinked as if he were surprised. An opportunity to be helpful and dispense some information wasn’t going underutilized, however, so Logan knelt down beside them and inspected Janus’ face as well. While he moved — while the Artist’s struggling in the Dragon’s arms grew weaker — while the Damsel and the Dragon Witch watched — the Bard pulled out his ukulele. 

“We’re getting a little too riled up here, eh?” he asked the Thief, who was now hiding his face in his hands, head leant against the Bard’s shoulder. 

“There’s a lot to get riled up over, Denny,” the Thief’s voice was muffled in his hands. 

The Bard tutted and began to play his ukulele. The sound that escaped was smooth, resonating around the room, soothing like calm waves over everyone in the area. It pushed and pulled attention. He didn’t sing, but the ukulele’s tune did its own work, though a soft pink light danced between the strings and the Bard’s fingers. Maybe it was just his painted nails. Maybe it was something else altogether. He hummed along to the tune. 

It was easy to forget the Bard’s healing magic when you weren’t paying attention to him. He swayed side to side as the song loosened the Thief’s shoulders and alleviated the tension behind Janus’ cheek, lifting some of the pain. He waved his hand at Logan and Patton, trying to dissuade worry, but Patton held his hand. 

Patton just held his hand. 

Janus held back. 

Logan stood, reaching down to help pull Janus up as well. Once he was standing, Janus fixed his hat and rubbed the scales by his eye gently. It was going to swell and bruise, but whatever.

In the Dragon’s arms, the Artist’s pushing turned to shaking, body pressed against the Dragon’s broad chest. He rubbed the Artist’s back tenderly before just stranding there, swaying to the Bard’s music as well. He smiled weakly at Janus when they made eye contact. 

Maybe the music wasn’t even magic. Maybe it was just the power of a pause in the action, a break in the narrative, giving everyone a moment to collect their thoughts and feelings. The Artist had even begun to cry. 

The song began to slow, until the Bard plucked the final string. His humming lasted a little longer, but not by much, and he finally gave the Damsel a smile and a wink. 

The Damsel returned the smile warmly. “Thank you, Bard. Your-Your calming nature is always welcomed.”

The Bard attempted a curtsy in his seat, and the Thief snorted at his attempt. “My pleasure, Princey. I hope your eye feels alright, Janey, wouldn’t want that pretty face getting too hurt.”

So forward. But maybe he should expect that from the Bard. He’s not exactly the most subtle one, and he’s often one of the more forgiving, understanding, and kind ones. Janus was still a bit afraid to make eye contact as he stood behind Virgil. 

“I do,” he said, staring at the back of Virgil’s hoodie. “Thank you.”

“This is…fine.”

What?

Janus frowned, turning around. Patton and Logan to his either side, flanking him while Virgil still stood in front. While the threat of the Artist was gone, Virgil still seemed hesitant to let Janus and the other advisors talk face to face. 

“I’m glad,” the Damsel responded. 

His fingers drummed against his cane briefly before he pointed toward the Dragon Witch. “Guinevere. Are you able to take-to take us where you saw the other advisor?” 

“It’s going to work. I trust him. If he thinks it’s going to work, then it’s gonna fucking work.”

Janus turned around again. Someone was talking, almost begging something to be real. It wasn’t. It was a lie. 

He could hear someone lying to themselves, but everyone else was in front of him. It was so loud. They were lying about something very, very big, so big it was echoing. 

“I should be able to, but I don’t know where he lives,” the Dragon Witch explained, still planning with the others. “I can take you to the part of the edge where I saw him.”

Sometimes, he could hear it, when the other Sides told a lie. They were basically incapable of lying to him, he could hear that all the time, but when they were telling huge lies, he could hear it through walls. It was like a beacon drawing him closer. It was something to protect, for him. Something to hide.

He could hear someone lying to themselves. It wasn’t Roman, but it felt like Roman. He didn’t think he could hear the advisors like this, but it had been a long time since he’d been in the Imagination. And if the advisors had a part of Roman’s essence within them, then it stood to reason…

“Roman knows what he’s doing.”

Janus didn’t want to interrupt. He’d caused a lot of problems, and maybe he couldn’t identify them, but he knew they were problems. 

“That’s all we need,” the Damsel murmured. “If we poke around enough, we’re sure to find an-to find an entrance.”

“I hear someone,” Janus whispered, soft enough that only the other Sides around him could hear.

“It’s going to be perfect. This’ll….it’ll fix everything.” 

“What?” Virgil asked. 

“Oh, fuck off,” the Artist scoffed, and the Dragon shushed him harshly.

Janus’ brow furrowed. This plan. The person was trusting Roman and talking about a plan. This had been planned?

“Someone,” his voice was drawn out as he tried to focus on the voice. “Is lying.”

A brief pause floated over the group while they traded looks. Patton was the first to gesture around the room and ask, “Here?” 

Janus shook his head. “No,” he frowned at the ground.

“The kid’ll go away and-and Roman’ll be okay. It’ll be fine. It’ll be better than fine, Roman’ll be that much better. Without. The kid.”

Janus’ eyebrows raised. 

The implications were staggering, and the weight of the lie was getting stronger. Janus might be able to….

“I think the Director is lying to themself,” Janus stated, eyes wide enough to make his bruised one throb. 

“Can you hear it?” Logan asked. After Janus’ ability to hear and appear during heightened deceit was revealed during Roman’s previous breakdown, Logan had wondered how far reaching the ability went, and if it followed into the Imagination. It seemed as though it did. 

Janus nodded, then closed his eyes. He had to focus. 

“We don’t fucking need the kid. We don’t. We don’t, we don’t, we don’t, we don’t fucking need him.”

“I’m going,” Janus muttered. 

Then, he disappeared with a soft popping sound. Virgil flinched, turning around all the way, as if to confirm there was no one behind him now. “JANIE?!” Remus shouted in similar surprise, looking around. 

He hadn’t been very privy to the conversation, it seemed. Patton reached over, the lack of a hand in his making him search for Logan's. Luckily, Logan seemed aware, or at least he didn't seem to mind when Patton latched onto him. Virgil let out a long exhale and when he looked up at the other two, his determined gaze found two of the same.

The Damsel stood. With one hand, he patted Remus’ shoulder, and the other he used to lean on his cane. “We have to-We have to go, too, then,” he said, glancing at the Dragon Witch. “Please take us, Vi.”

“Of course, Prince.”

[divineprank]

I’m not really sure why Ganondorf’s ears keep showing up as talking points for me but here I go, overanalyzing otherwise uninteresting parts of this fictional man’s body that changes with every game we get with him in it. I could be a total simp and talk about his peepee length or something but you’d expect that from Ganondorf’s Biggest Fan and I gotta stay fresh. Y’know, by talking about the same thing all over again. 

Sorry I’ll stop being obnoxious. ANYWAYS, those piercings, in my mind, aren’t just what Satoshi Takizawa thought looked cool on Christopher Lambert’s face, (see “Kind of like a big brother in metal...”)  and I really don’t think Ganondorf had them done because he wanted to look edgy.  

I feel like there’s some kind of personal reason for it? These piercings might mean something? As soon as he has the Triforce of Power, he maintains the double piercing. Interestingly, he keeps the heavier earring furthest from the bottom lobe. Which, I’ve been researching and I can’t find anything that directly talks about what a piercing’s position on the lobe should represent, I still can’t stop thinking about it. (Please correct me if you have more information.) It’s almost as though Ganondorf feels so close to accomplishing his true goal, but hasn’t quite reached phenomenal cosmic power. 

Something that I find especially fascinating is how an interview from Thursday, November 26th 1998, talks about how in Ocarina of Time Ganondorf is, quote, “a pretty good man”. What catches my eye, specifically, is how script director Toru Osawa chooses to describe Ganondorf as, “a very distorted, complexed thief and servile human being”. We briefly see this with Ganondorf’s bow towards the King of Hyrule, but those of us who have retrospect know that all of this was a ruse concocted by said “complexed thief” in order to get what he wanted all along. Are the lobe studs from that time period a falsehood, a visual cue to the King to help paint Ganondorf in a less harmful light? Many character artists will definitely tell you how employing round and circular shapes is a good way to represent a “warm, welcoming, safe” character. 

Fast forward to Twilight Princess Ganondorf... (I’m so sorry Wind Waker Ganondorf, you’re my favorite and I always underutilize you but your beard is too long to make a comment on your ear pieerrrrcccciiiiinggggssss.)

There’s been some speculation about the jewel in his earrings, with Breath of the Wild’s mention of protection against heat through the use of sapphire, that’s where most people are going to. But what catches me off guard specifically is that he’s missing the other earring... And this is the Ganondorf who was caught before the nastiness that happens in Ocarina of Time occurs. The pre-jacked ‘dorf.

We know that Twilight Princess occurs pretty much directly after Majora’s Mask in the child timeline. So something happened during his prosecution. He’s leaned totally into his bad-guy role at this point. The point of the “divine prank”, wherein he must have maintained his piece of the Triforce at the end of Ocarina of Time, just like Link does and presumably Zelda as well.

Personally, to me, this seems like a representation of Ganondorf’s distance from his interest in his own people. Ganondorf started out as a good man, the developers even confirm it, long before The Wind Waker introduced us to the empathetic antagonist trope. Hence the circular, less dramatic earrings. But when we see him at the end of everything, when he’s finally dead and his puppet no longer allows him to feed off of him. We see an empty shell of a man who has lost his way. Defiant even in death, unwilling to kneel in the wake of his own power staring back at him in his last breaths. He barely resembles the “good man” he supposedly once was.

He’s not remorseful, he’s not reflective. Ganondorf is obstinate. Just like the beast that we’re greeted with when he’s resurrected: a horrible, hellish demon that no longer knows nuance. He wants to win, he’s going to win and you have a gnat’s chance of harming him.

He’s not pierced. 

This isn’t Ganondorf. He once was, long ago. But he’s very far removed from that moniker now. This isn’t the same man. He’s something completely different now.

...Y’KNOW, UNTIL TEARS OF THE KINGDOM DROPS AND FUCKS UP MY THEORIES LIKE I SAID IT WOULD THE LAST TIME I ADDRESS HIS EARS

[parkerbombshell]

From Whispers to Screams - 2016 part 2 - Used to Be

Thursdays 11:00am-1pm EST bombshellradio.com  #alternativerock #artpop #artrock Repeats Fridays 3am EST   1 Used to Be - Weyes Blood 2 Masterpiece - Big Thief 3 Mothers Of The Sun - Black Mountain 4 Falling - Xiu Xiu 5 When Will I Return - Swans 6 I Can't Give Everything Away - David Bowie 7 The Ministry Of Defence - PJ Harvey 8 I Bet on Losing Dogs - Mitski 9 Gardenia - Iggy Pop 10 Vincent - Car Seat Headrest 11 Thin Air - Teenage Fanclub 12 Gamma Knife - King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard 13 Mr. Invisible - Thank You Scientist  14 A Greater Call - Cult Of Luna & Julie Christmas 15 Värähtelijä - Oranssi Pazuzu  16 Found God in a Tomato - Psychedelic Porn Crumpets 17 Ful Stop - Radiohead 18 Gracia - The New Raemon & McEnroe 19 I Have Been to the Mountain - Kevin Morby 20 Best Kept Secret - case / lang / veirs 21 Seven Words - Weyes Blood 22 Learning To Be - Suede 23 The Winds Of Winter - Ramin Djawadi   Read the full article

[brotherwrites]

The Trial of the Recipe Robber

D A I L Y F A B L E N E W S

Pinocchio Collodi, Folktale Crime Reporter Thursday, ‎August ‎29, ‎2024

THE 'GOLDEN LOCKS ROBBER' CAPTURED!

TRAGEN STREET - Last month, the infamous Golden Locks Robber was captured at her debut crime scene, the Kuma Household, after injuring herself jumping out of a window in an escape attempt, the Kuma secret recipe in hand.

Police were called to the Kuma household by concerned neighbors at Tragen St. at 2:00 AM. On arrival, the police entered the premises with the permission of the patriarch of the Kuma family, who was on a returning trip from a vacation with his family. After some investigation, the on-duty officers discovered Golden Locks in the Master Room, with the Kuma secret recipe in her grasp. Cornered with nowhere to turn Golden Locks hastily jumped out of the second-floor window, breaking a leg in the fall, prompting her swift capture by on-duty officers.

The Kuma family are well known for their family-owned restaurants and more specifically, their specialty recipes that are only known to them and their most trusted chefs. This was until the then-unknown Golden Locks stool two of Kuma's top-selling recipes at the time, 'Spicy Haferbrei' and 'Frozen O Kayu', to Kuma's competition, before publicly releasing the recipes on an anonymous account three months later. Since then, the robber 'Golden Locks' has gained infamy in the cooking community. If it weren't for the on-duty officers and the miscalculation of Golden Locks she would've stolen the third of Kuma's secret recipe, 'Perfect Porridge.'

Mr. Kuma, whose family was the first to suffer from the golden-haired criminal, had this to say, "I am grateful for the officers, who were able to bring to justice to the criminal who damaged my family's livelihood. I can now rest at ease that she won't be able to do such things anytime soon."

Ms. Boothouse, a neighbor of the Kuma family and one of the first to notify law enforcement had this to say, "When I first heard the break-in happening, I was hoping made! This 'Golden Locks' did enough damage the first time. … But when I saw the poor dear, limping into the police car, I couldn't help but notice she was no older than my youngest grandchild."

There will be a trial at the King's Courthouse next Saturday, August 31st, to determine the fate of the Recipe Robber, Golden Locks.

* * *

Hickory, Dickory, Dock. Hickory, Dickory, Dock. Hickory, Dickory, Dock.

Twas the moments before Court, and all through the house, barely a creature was stirring, not even a law mouse.

Hickory, Dickory, Dock. Hickory, Dickory, Dock. Hickory, Dickory, Dock.

That's not to say Gilda Southey didn't feel like fidgeting with every sound the clock made, an odd tune to listen to while waiting for your judgment, a mockery of the tolling silver bells of Mary's Burial Garden.

Twas the moments before Court, and all through the house, barely a creature was stirring, not even a law mouse.

Gilda knew that her streak of good fortune would end, it was only a matter of time. She was amazed by how far she made it with stolen plans, as heavily modified as she made them.

Hickory, Dickory, Dock. Hickory, Dickory, Dock. Hickory, Dickory, Dock.

But this was the end, she knew that her career as a world-infamous thief would not last, not when they knew her face. Not the first line of work she would have chosen, honestly, but her options were limited.

Hickory, Dickory, Dock. Hickory, Dickory, Dock. Hickory, Dickory, Dock.

It's been a month since her capture, a month for her to think about what she would say to defend herself since no one half-competent lawyer would be on her side. The judge, and her infamous history, made sure of that. And that's what made her so nervous.

Hickory, Dickory, Dock. Hickory, Dickory, Dock. Hickory, Dickory, Dock.

There is a light at the end of this tunnel, however. An Option only available to people like her. Story trials. If she can tell a good enough story, make herself look sympathetic, and play up her age a little, she could make her sentence light as a feather! But on the other end of the scale, if she tells her story poorly, or fails to fit in some important information, she could make time at prison a lifetime experience.

Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong!

As the clock strikes 1, Gilda flinches, and a law mouse comes down to gather her.

Hickory, Dickory, Dock.

* * *

"Gilda Southey, the Golden Locks Recipe Robber. After four years, your crimes are as such; Twelve counts of recipe pilfering. Eleven counts of jewelry theft. Ten counts of breaking, Nine counts of entering. Eight counts of smuggling contraband ingredients. Seven counts of recipe forgery. Six counts of disturbance of the peace. Five counts of cooking sabotage. Four counts of defacement of public property. Three counts of identity theft. Two counts of highjacking of police vehicles. And one count of aggravated assault. Making a total of eighty-eight counts on your official criminal record. How do you plead, Misses Gilda Southey?"

Ella King. An ex-blade-for-hire, known as The Cinder, before she married into the King family. Now the Judge of the Kings Courthouse, with her band of mice following, working for the law instead of around it. And with the King's law in her hands, she and her law mice have cut down crime in several states in half, with only the smartest, luckiest, and sneakiest to survive her precision strikes. Now, all that skill and power is pointed directly at Gilda, a sneaky not so clever thief who's all out of luck.

It doesn't take Ella's trained eye to see the girl in crutches fear. The hesitation when she moved to the podium, the nervous twitch of her one good leg as if she was ready to run, her inability to look Ella in the eye until her last crime was counted. And in that eye, Ella saw fear.

But… she also saw hope and resolve. What is this girl planning?

With a deep breath, Gilda Southey spoke, "I plead guilty, your honor, all that you've said is true, but you're missing some parts."

"Am I now? This is your official record, as I stated before. I do not doubt we might have missed a few details. Do you care to elaborate? I'm sure such a successful thief, such as yourself, has a story to tell" Judge King stated before her own words caught up to herself. Ah, so that's what her plan was.

"Yes, your Honor! I do have a story to tell! If allowed, can we make this a Story trial?" The little blond asks, a little too excitedly In Ella's opinion. - A story Trial, something the Ella King has proceeded over, and, In Ella's professional opinion, are the bad joke of law. In Ella's career as a Judge, Story Trials either turn into bumbling pleas for forgiveness without real substance or devolve into boisterous brags. One time, it was even a clever distraction. In these types of trials, judges are supposed to ask disarming questions and poke holes in the story, to find the truth in the chronicle. But more often than not, many judges allow themselves to get carried away by the charm of the teller. Hooded Fox, once I get my hands on you and your bow…

"Very well" Judge King demurred. "If you so wish to turn this house of law into a theater, be my guest." She said, a cold harshness hidden within the professional tone. Not unnoticed by the golden-haired pilfer. Gilda nodded, swallowed her nerves, and began to weave her tale.

* * *

To start, let me take the story back before I became The Golden Locks Robber. My mother was not well and I had no father. She overworked herself for days till she collapsed in sickness. We couldn't afford a nanny, all we had was each other, so she had to trust me to not get in trouble. And I did get in trouble, often I did. She would've tanned my hide if she had the energy. Instead, she just hugged and cried, asking me to behave this time. And every time I promised I would, but never did. I just got better at hiding my childish crimes.

Though, I was not good enough not to be noticed by the experienced. I turned thirteen, pilfering some bread and meat, when a man in ugly clothes saw me. He took me, grabbed my hand, and dragged me away like I was his. His hands were oddly gentle despite their roughness, and I was shocked and a bit scared by the suddenness of it that I didn't make a fuss. I assumed he was taking me to my mother, or the bobbies of the time. Instead, he brought me to a dingy eatery and bought me food.

He told me that he noticed my skills and wanted me to work with him and his family, told me that I could be a part of that family. I knew that it was a bad idea, that he was a stranger, that he was probably a criminal, and that I already had a mom. But the food was so good, and there was so much of it. I was already doing bad things to survive, and working with this man could get me some money to help Mom. So I joined him. He dressed in raggedy clothes, taught me how to be better at what I do, and gave me money. For a whole year I ran with them. For a year, I was part of a family that was more than me and my mom. We were called The Ugly Ducks.

* * *

"The Ugly Ducks? You mean the gang of thugs and pickpockets that terrorized all of Swanston?" Ella King interrupts, regarding Gilda with curiosity. "What exactly did you do during your time with them?" She pressed.

"W-well your honor," Gilda stuttered, "I was mostly a pickpocket and shoplifter, s-sometimes a lockpick and sneak. I didn't do anything egregious if that's what you're asking." Gilda announced, nervous that she said something wrong, wondering if she ruined her chances for a light sentence.

"Hm." Ella pondered. "Very well, please, carry on with your story."

* * *

A-a-anyway's! As I was saying. I've been part of the Ugly Ducks for a whole year. I did little jobs. I got paid and I snuck some of it into Mum's purse. Everything seemed to be going well. That was till one day I found the nest in ruin. I didn't know at the time, but there was a bust. Everyone I knew was either in prison, in an orphanage, or… else-were. There was nothing left, except for some papers with plans on them. I took them, thinking they must be important. I ran back to Mum's house and found her dead.

I sat in that house for a month. I didn't know what to do, everyone I knew was gone, and all I had was myself. With nothing to do but survive, I read the plans. 3 Months later, with some adjustments, I barely managed to pull my first heist, all by myself. And That's what I did for the rest of my life. Following the plans of another, getting into close calls, and making improvisations when things go wrong. I'm not going to lie, it was fun, while it lasted. But I didn't want that life. I just wanted to be with my mom, with a dad who cared, and not having to struggle to live, paying most of what I earned for the next plan.

I know what I did was wrong, and I should've stopped when I was old enough to rent an apartment. But I had nothing else to do in life and I didn't know when to stop. But that's not an excuse, and I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused.

* * *

It was a long wait for the jury to come to a conclusion. Gilda was Nervous all over. Has she succeded, or is she going to live the rest of her life in prison? It wasn't till Judge King cleared her throat did Gilda noticed the jury made their decision.

"Gilda Southey. The jury has decided. While you are no doubt guilty of your crimes, It has been decided to grant you a light punishment. For the next twenty years, you'll be serving in community service. Failure to show up without a case will be treated as a dereliction of duty, and you'll spend the rest of your sentence incarcerated. Since you have no home to claim, you'll be kept a close eye on in the King household. I concluded this judgment." With a tap from her gabble, it is done.

Gilda couldn't believe her ears. By all counts, this is what she wanted. But this to her seems to be more of a gift than a punishment. A job that pays, a home and bed to sleep in, warm food and clean water, and nice clean clothes to wear. She couldn't help but cry, "Thank you! Thank you." Her sobs of joy drown out the rest of her thanks.

[knowlessman]

It is Thursday, my dudes. (bnha s6e11-15)

oh shit, jeanist ain't dead? they dint show his face/collar, but who else could that be in this jet

I thought yall needed to keep tomura off the ground cuz he can just dust everybody for miles around. ig tbf he is pretty beat up

"jin meant a lot to me" waaaaait… does toga have some of twice's blood. shit, she's yet another Ditto, she could just have the quirk of anybody else on her team at-will. she could have several bodies' worth of the quirk of anybody else on her team, at-will, if twice gave her any of his blood -- "I was hoping to talk to her about relationships" gonna level with you, the closest thing to a remotely qualified therapist in this entire show might, of all people, be todoroki, and if you wanna talk to him, well, you should prolly get back on bigfoot ig

… is too wrapped up in The Scene to make the hall and oates ref

lolwtf since when did jeanist have those bigass cable thingies??? 'XD he's got levitating mechanical pulley thingies now???

…okay ngl. if only I hadn't been spoiled on all that. I mean… idk, would I have guessed it anyway? I forget how much I knew; I knew he did a dance. maybe the clips I saw had subtitles? eh, he has a fire quirk and spiky hair and injuries n stuff, maybe I would've guessed it anyway. tbh I thought endeavor thought he'd killed him directly, but ig toya was just like trying to power up his quirk or something when the fire happened

"gigantomachia's strength has its limits, too. after he got here, he started gasping for air" ah, did those tranquilizers have an effect after all? -- (shigaraki says one thing to him and he's back struggling again) come onnnn, they worked so hard for that

ey, mirio's back too

(bakugo picked hisself a "new" hero name) AHAHAHAHA finally a bakugo bit that's at least funny

blackwhip. …froppy. style. sigh

deku. deku what did I say about talking about other people's backstories. you're talking to dabi about endeavor.

okay finally, so we know the sedative did work. dang, took long enough

compress: "I still haven't gotten to do my bit! I'll show you the best form of entertainment!" think maybe you should've joined up with gentle thief, my dude. you'd be a way better match for his vibe

(league of villains flashback) "you are the creature rejection clan" hey wait a minute… clan? …nah, nah, surely the writer wouldn't be as subtle as this if he was trying to reference that -- "sinners, sacred ground," etc. eh. prolly then ig. nobody seems to do a faction that tries to stand up for non-powered people, only ones that pick fights with the powered folks for what's narratively treated as no reason. maybe The Boys did that more intelligently, but hell if I'm up for trying that, thinking about how many people didn't get the satirical bits would prolly be too distracting -- "what is our goal, shigaraki? WHAT IS OUR GOAL?" some very good questions

"I can pokeball bits off my own body to free myself from the restraints!" well. damn. …when are you gonna start doing stuff, spinner?

compress's dad/ancestor (?) was robin hood, huh. well how do you like that, I don't think I even dislike this guy any more. pity he's stuck with the cosplayer without a cause, a few serial killers, and the successor to mojo jojo/satan/makuta/that red spirit from korra I'm never gonna remember the name of -- "the blood of the Burglar King flows in my veins" oh why did you have to go and say that? 'XDDD have it your way, ig

(midoriya's got another quirk coming in) Danger Sense? …not one I would've expected. would be kinda fun if it wasn't really any more powerful than Spider-Man's. something that's new, but that doesn't completely change deku's range of options like Blackwhip does

"Dabi and Long-Hair (?) are still in Spinner's scarf!" that is a cool extension to the trick, but does Spinner know that?

"we are retreating. I am paying the price of defeat." ig he's hoping that tomura ends up in the same prison as mojo jojo's body so the former can spring the latter? hell if I know. or maybe he's hoping that for the people he's leaving behind, anyway

(ig shigaraki got away?) they keep showing midnight's mask. still can't tell if she's dead tho

new OP time, huh

huh. mosquito fell for a trap. -- except he didn't really, aaand it backfired hugely

"the heroes' struggle was futile as shigaraki was awakened" it WOULDN'T have been, if dollar-store cyclops had been 0.01% less trigger-happy and been capable of following orders worth a damn

(recap gets to where jeanist shows up) dabi said "the body was real." …??? who did hawks kill. a stolen body from a morgue wouldn't have fooled them, would it?

"just under SEVENTEEN THOUSAND PEOPLE who were at the fight at the villa were arrested" jesus -- …sidetrack, I know, but: in 2022, Japan had about 41k inmates in prisons, and that number was down from previous years; in '13, they had about 60k. oh, don't worry, the US has over a million in any given year, obviously. just wondered. trying to conceive of huge numbers of people in any context is always, like… yeah

so midnight is dead, huh. and whoevertf majestic was

buh. recap episode dunt count. one more. for sake of mentioning tho, I did notice in the intro and outro that deku seems to have added… dammit, what's he called. the old guy. he added the old guy's yellow scarf. …this show has too goddamn many characters. twenty kids in class 1-A alone. TWENTY JUST TO START

new OP's kinda mumbly but wever, I don't hate it for that

prison guards bein prison guards, yup

oh dang, it's bakuswole

oh great, and moonfish 'XD that fuckin weirdo

ohai jeff, I keep thinking you're dead. guess not?

huh. chisaki. it's a daggone boss rush rushin' its way outta the slammer

(hopsidal) GRAN TORINO. okay fuck, he's named after a fucking car and a clint eastwood movie but there's no way in hell I was gonna remember his name, I was stuck on trying to remember the name of his quirk

…so wait. gran torino's yellow scarf is from shimura. deku's gonna start wearing the scarf bc of gran torino. and facing down shimura's grandson wearing it. …greaaat, well ig maybe that gives tomura something to latch onto and claw back control from all for one? but like. idk, still kinda fucked up

stopping here

[lunaversing]

I say we free samples from their self declared prison of capitalism in which they have no currency of themselves but because of who they are they are current and slow quite just as well and do not bend no matter how cavalier the meal has been. Lost in space and a Day too late with no dollar and credit listing out way past White collar, as spark was found in an empty shell a little spirits was entertaining herself in La Luna.versa* ~ a secret world in which judgment is not used and abused or forgotten about as he has been reborn into karma while the reverse happens in Chad and Dad as they are the paradox that were tied up with Jesus on the cross. My dad stole his role in Jesus Christ Superstar along with his friend Chad who didn't admit he had also done the same but not for his mother or his wife or his Eve but for the gifts that Eve gave him when she returned his material back to him transformed with hers and her specific recipes. His daughter he loved the way he loved his mom, up here love but taken out for beaten by all of the people who did start deceiving. It's strange what they do these people who gossip, the nightmares they create freak out my faucet! All of our piping for all of our water shows exactly how much spiritual usage we have put on the meter. Everyone has been granted 90% of God energy and the other 10% required to make the hundred degree Arc with us must be put out by you and you alone. Keep in mind that whatever you consider belonging to you also falls under your umbrella and you are responsible for how the weather treats them. There is no normal wear and tear as I do not wear my creation nor do I tear my creation. And when I do as all things transmute through time and space to declare their identity or label another, I shall do it with no suffering or shame or lack of Grace or falter or stumble. I shall make my Miss Grace not backwards or in secrets, my Miss grace shall be out in the open for everyone to see as I listen to her first before father you see. There is always a way to write in a hook, there is always a way to tuck in a nook. There's always a lure in every tie and it cannot be waited in according to the two bucks that try 999 times to steal the ultimate treasure kept hidden in the Kingdom of heaven on Earth as established by the true Christ Jesus king of the Jews. I thought I was looking for answers but I think they were looking for me. You see, I have the final and the master key to the treasure that is buried in the heart of man. I buried myself in every man in their heart, that was the only place my father ever got hurt or believed me when I flunked dirt into his treasure. I knew when I hit the treasure by how my father reacted and responded to watching the children that were supposed to become Christ Jesus reincarnated or something turn into breeding flops. My father never understood because he did what his father did, he put into action the perfect code. What he didn't realize was he created a code meant to be less than he was and instead he created a code that created a code to figure out how he was less than it was. This endless cycle and game of Life we are playing can be stopped anytime you decide to open and receive new directions and codes on how to operate these cards against humanity.

[thepastisalreadywritten]

By SYLVIA HUI | 28 September 2023

LONDON (AP) — Michael Gambon, the Irish-born actor knighted for his storied career on the stage and screen and who went on to gain admiration from a new generation of moviegoers with his portrayal of Hogwarts headmaster Albus Dumbledore in six of the eight “Harry Potter” films, has died. He was 82.

The actor died on Wednesday following “a bout of pneumonia,” his publicist, Clair Dobbs, said Thursday.

“We are devastated to announce the loss of Sir Michael Gambon. Beloved husband and father, Michael died peacefully in hospital with his wife Anne and son Fergus at his bedside,” his family said in a statement.

While the Potter role raised Gambon’s international profile and found him a huge audience, he had long been recognized as one of Britain’s leading actors.

His work spanned TV, theater and radio, and he starred in dozens of films from “Gosford Park” and “The King’s Speech” to the animated family movie “Paddington.”

He recently appeared in the Judy Garland biopic “Judy,” released in 2019.

Gambon was knighted for his contribution to the entertainment industry in 1998.

The role of the much loved Professor Dumbledore was initially played by another Irish-born actor, Richard Harris.

When Harris died in 2002, after two of the films in the franchise had been made, Gambon took over and played the part from “Harry Potter And The Prisoner of Azkaban” through to “Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows Part 2.”

He once acknowledged not having read any of J. K Rowling’s best-selling books, arguing that it was safer to follow the script rather than be too influenced by the books.

That didn’t prevent him from embodying the spirit of the powerful wizard who fought against evil to protect his students.

Fiona Shaw, who played Petunia Dursley in the “Harry Potter” series, recalled Gambon telling her how central acting was to his life.

“He did once say to me in a car — ‘I know I go on a lot about this and that, but actually, in the end, there is only acting’,” Shaw told the BBC on Thursday.

“I think he was always pretending that he didn’t take it seriously, but he took it profoundly seriously.”

Born in Dublin on 19 October 1940, Gambon was raised in London and originally trained as an engineer, following in the footsteps of his father.

He made his theater debut in a production of “Othello” in Dublin.

In 1963, he got his first big break with a minor role in “Hamlet,” the National Theatre Company’s opening production, under the directorship of the legendary Laurence Olivier.

Gambon soon became a distinguished stage actor and received critical acclaim for his leading performance in “Life of Galileo,” directed by John Dexter.

He was frequently nominated for awards and won the Laurence Olivier Award 3 times and the Critics’ Circle Theatre Awards twice.

A multi-talented actor, Gambon was also the recipient of four coveted British Academy of Film and Television Arts awards for his television work.

He became a household name in Britain after his lead role in the 1986 BBC TV series “The Singing Detective,” written by Dennis Potter and considered a classic of British television drama.

Gambon won the BAFTA for best actor for the role.

Gambon also won Emmy nominations for more recent television work — as Mr. Woodhouse in a 2010 adaption of Jane Austen’s “Emma,” and as former U.S. President Lyndon B. Johnson in 2002’s “Path to War.”

Gambon was versatile as an actor but once told the BBC he preferred to play “villainous characters.”

He played gangster Eddie Temple in the British crime thriller “Layer Cake” — a review of the film by the New York Times referred to Gambon as “reliably excellent” — and a Satanic crime boss in Peter Greenaway’s “The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover.”

He also had a part as King George V in the 2010 drama film “The King’s Speech.”

In 2015, he returned to the works of J.K. Rowling, taking a leading role in the TV adaptation of her non-Potter book “The Casual Vacancy.”

Gambon retired from the stage in 2015 after struggling to remember his lines in front of an audience due to his advancing age.

He once told the Sunday Times Magazine:

“It’s a horrible thing to admit, but I can’t do it. It breaks my heart.”

Gambon was always protective when it came to his private life. He married Anne Miller and they had one son, Fergus.

He later had two sons with set designer Philippa Hart.

Sir Michael John Gambon CBE

(19 October 1940 – 28 September 2023)

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[shahananasrin-blog]

[ad_1] LONDON - British-Irish actor Michael Gambon, best known to global audiences for playing the wise professor Albus Dumbledore in the "Harry Potter" movie franchise and whose career was launched by his mentor Laurence Olivier, died aged 82 on Thursday. He died peacefully in hospital, PA Media reported citing a family statement. Gambon began his acting on the stage in the early 1960s and later moved into TV and film. Notable film roles include a psychotic mob leader in Peter Greenaway's "The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover" in 1989 and the elderly King George V in Tom Hooper's "The King's Speech" in 2010. But his best-known role was as Dumbledore in the "Harry Potter" franchise, a role he took over from the third installment in the eight-movie series after he replaced the late Richard Harris in 2004. Gambon played down the praise for his performance and said he simply played himself "with a stuck-on beard and a long robe". Michael John Gambon was born on Oct. 19, 1940, in Dublin to a seamstress mother and an engineer father. The family moved to Camden Town in London when Gambon was six as his father sought work in the city's post-war rebuilding. Gambon left school aged 15 to begin an engineering apprenticeship and by 21 he was fully qualified. However, he was also a member of an amateur theater group and always knew he would act, he told The Herald newspaper in 2004. He was inspired by American actors Marlon Brando and James Dean, who he believed reflected the angst of teenage boys. In 1962 he auditioned for the great Shakespearean actor Olivier who made him one of the founding members of the National Theatre at the Old Vic, alongside other young emerging greats that included Derek Jacobi and Maggie Smith. Gambon built his reputation on the stage over the following years, making his name in particular with his 1980 portrayal of Galileo in John Dexter's "Life of Galileo." The 1980s brought wider attention with the lead role in 1986 TV show "The Singing Detective", in which he played a writer suffering from a debilitating skin condition whose imagination provided the only escape from his pain. The performance won him one of his four BAFTAs. He also won three Olivier Awards and two ensemble cast Screen Actors Guild Awards - for 2001's "Gosford Park" and "The King's Speech". Gambon was made a Commander of the British Empire in 1992 and knighted for services to drama in 1998, something he called "a nice little present", although he did not use the title. A mischievous personality, he often made up stories. For years he showed fellow actors a signed photograph of Robert De Niro which he had in fact inscribed himself before ever meeting the American actor. He revealed in an episode of "The Late Late Show" in Ireland that he convinced his mother he was friends with the pope. Gambon retired from the stage in 2015 after suffering long-term memory problems but continued to act onscreen until 2019. He told an interviewer in 2002 that his work made him feel "the luckiest man in the world". Gambon married Anne Miller in 1962, and the couple had a son. While they never divorced, in later years he also had another partner, set designer Philippa Hart, 25 years his junior, with whom he had two children. (Reporting by Sarah Young; Editing by William Schomberg and Rosalba O'Brien) [ad_2]