#twelve forever spoilers

[deus-and-the-machina]

ngl I think the ideal ffxiv experience is finding 3-4 or more people to be insane with about your WOLs and other related characters you like, find pretty art to send to each other, and ignoring all of what the rest of social media has to say about the game peace and love <3

[felikatze]

ISAT and Ludonarrative Harmony: Combat is a Storytelling Tool

Or: How Siffrin is stuck in the endgame grind, forever

Please Note: This is primarily aimed at an audience that already played In Stars and Time, because I am bad at explaining things, and it's good to already know what the fuck I'm talking about. I tend to only bring up game elements as I want to talk about them.

Spoilers for.... all of ISAT! Especially Act 5!

(image to show how i feel posting this and as an attention grabber over my wall of text)

To pull a definition of ludonarrative harmony out of a hat, game writer Lauryn Ash defines it as follows:

Ludonarrative harmony is when gameplay and story work together to create a meaningful and immersive experience. From a design implementation perspective, it is the synchronized interactions between in-game actions (mechanics) and in-world context (story).

It is, generally speaking, how well game mechanics work hand in hand with the story. I, personally, think ISAT is an absolute masterclass of it, so I want to take a look at how ISAT specifically uses its battle system to emphasize Siffrin's character arc and create organic story moments. I want you to keep this in mind when I talk here.

So, skills, right? If you've played any turn-based RPG, you know your Fire spells, your "BACKSLASH! AIRSLASH! BACKSLASH!" and the many ways to style those.

Well, what does casting "Fire" say about your character? Not all that much, does it? Perhaps you'll have typical divisions. The smart one is the mage, the big brawny one is your tank, the petite one's the healer. And that's the barebones of ISAT's main party, but it's much more than that.

Every character's style of combat tells you something about them. Odile, the Researcher, is the most well-travelled and knowledgable of the bunch. She's the one with the expertise to keep a cool head and analyze the enemy, yet also able to use all three of the Rock-Paper-Scissors craft types.

To reflect her analytical view of things, all her skill names are just descriptive, the closest to your most bog-standard RPG. "Slow IV" or "Paper III" serve well to describe their purpose. The high number of the skills gives the impression there were three other Slow skills beforehand - fitting, considering the party starts at level 45, about to head into the final dungeon. She's also the oldest, so she's the slowest of the bunch.

Isabea, the Fighter, has all his skills in exclamation points. "YOUR TURN!!!" "SO WEAK!!!" "SMASH!!!" they're straightforward, but excited. He's a purposefully cheerfull guy, so his skills revolve around cheering on his allies. He's absolutely pumped to be here, and you see that from his skill names alone.

Mirabelle, the Housemaiden, is an interesting case. She's by all means the true protagonist of this tale - She's the one "Chosen by the Change God," the only one who survived the King's first attack, the only one immune to his ability to freeze time, the only dual-craft type of the game - just a lot of things. And her skill names reflect that facade she puts on herself - she can do this, she can win! She has to believe it, or else she starts doubting. This is how you get "Jolly Round Rondo" and "Mega Sparkle Heal" or "Adorable Moving Cure." She's styled every bit a sailor scout shojo heroine, and her moveset replicates the naming conventions of "In the name of the moon, I'll punish you!"

Even Bonnie, the Kid, who can't be controlled in combat, has named craft skills. And they very much reflect that Bonnie is, well, a kid. "Wolf Speed Technique" or "Thousand Blows Technique" are very much the phrasings of a child who learned one complicated word and now wants to use it in everything to seem cooler than they are, which is none, because they're twelve.

Siffrin's skills are all puns.

You have an IMMEDIATE feel for personality here. Between "Knife to Meet You!" and "Too Cleaver by Half," you know Siffrin's the type to always crack a joke no matter the situation, slinging witticisms around to put Sonic the Hedgehog to shame. It's just such a clever way to establish character using a game mechanic as old as the entire history of RPGs.

This is only the baseline of the way the combat system feeds into the story, though.

The timeloop, of course, feeds into it. Siffrin is the only character who retains experience upon looping, whereas all other characters are reset to their base level and skills. And it sucks (affectionate).

You're extremely likely to battle more often the earlier in the game you are - after all, you need the experience (for now.) Every party member contributes, and Siffrin isn't all that strong on their own, since they focus on raw scissor type damage with the addition of one speed buff. (Of course it's a speed buff. They're a speedy fucker. Just look at him).

At first, the difference in level between Siffrin and the rest of the group is rather negligible. Just a level or two. Just a bit more speed and attack. And then Siffrin grows further and further apart. Siffrin keeps learning new skills. He gets a healing skill that doubles as an attack boost, taking away from both Mirabelle's and Isabeau's usefullness. He gets Craft skills of every type that even give you two jackpot points instead of one - thus obliterating Odile's niche. Siffrin turns into a one-person army capable of clearing most encounters all on their own.

Siffrin's combat progression is an exact mirror of story progression - as their experience inside the loops grows, they also grow further and further away from their party. The party seems... weaker, slower, clumsier. Always back at their starting point, just as all of their character arcs are reset each loop. Never advancing, always stagnant. And you have Siffrin as the comparison post right next to them.

I also want to point out here a change from Act 2 to Act 3 - Siffrin's battle portrait. He stops smiling.

Battles keep getting easier. This is true both for the reason that Siffrin keeps growing stronger even when all enemies stay the same, but also for the reason that you, the player, learn more about the battle system and the various encounters, until you've learned perfect boss clear strategies just from repetition. Have you ever watched a speedrunner play Pokemon? They've played this game so many times, they could do it blindfolded and sleeping. Your own knowledge and Siffrin's new strength work in tandem to trivialize the game's entire combat system as the game progresses.

(Is it still fun? Playing it over, and over, and over again? Is it?)

You and Siffrin are in sync, your experience making everything trivial.

As time goes on, Siffrin grows to care less and less about performing right for their party and more and more about going fast. A huge moment in his character is marked by the end of Act 3; because of story events I won't delve too deeply into, Siffrin has grown afraid of trying something new. And his options of escape are closing in. They need an answer, and they need it fast. He doesn't have the time or patience to dumb himself down, so you unlock one new skill.

It doesn't occur with level up, or with a quest, or anything at all. At the start of Act 4, it simply appears in Siffrin's Craft skills.

(Just attack.)

No pun. No joke. Just attack. Once you notice, the effect is immediate - here you have it, a clear sign of how jaded Siffrin has become, right at every encounter. And it's a damn good attack, too! The only available attack in the game that deals "massive" damage against all enemies. Because it doesn't add any jackpot points (at least, it's not supposed to), you set up a combo with everybody else, but Siffrin simply tears away at the enemy with wild abandon. Seperated from the rest of the party by the virtue of no longer needing to contribute to team attacks (most of the time. It's still useful if they do, though).

Once again, an aspect of the battle system enhances the degree of separation between Siffrin and the static characters of his play. You're incentivized to separate him, even.

Additionally, there are two more skills to learn. They're the only skills that replace previous skills. You only get them at extremely high levels, the latter of which I didn't even reach on both of my playthroughs.

The first, somewhere in the level 70 range, Rose Printed Glasses, a paper type craft skill, is replaced by Tear You Apart. It's still a pun about paper, but remarkedly more vicious.

The second is even more on the nose. At level 80, In A While, Rockodile!, a rock type craft skill, is replaced by the more powerful Rock Bottom.

I didn't get to level 80. If you do, you pretty much have to do it on purpose. You have to keep going much longer than necessary, as Siffrin is just done. And the last skill he learns is literally called Rock Bottom.

What do I even need to say, really.

Your party doesn't stay static forever, though.

By doing their hangout quests, side quests throughout the loops that result in Siffrin and the character having a heart to heart, all of them unlock what I'd call an "ultimate" skill. You know the type - the character achieved self-fulfillment, hit rank 10 on their confidant, maxed out their skill tree, and received a reward for their trouble.

These skills are massively useful. My favorite is Odile's - it makes one enemy weak to all Craft types for several turns, which basically allows you to invalidate the first and third boss, as well as just clown on the King, especially once Siffrin starts racking up damage.

But the thing is. In Act 3, when you first get them, yeah, they're useful. But... do you need them? After all, they're such a hassle to get. You need to do the whole character quest again, you can't loop forward in the House or you'll lose them. If you want to take these skills to the King, you need to commit. Go the full nine-yards and be nice to your friends and not die and not skip forward or skip back. Which is annoying, right?

Well, I sure did think so during Act 4. After all, a base level party can still defeat the King, just with a few more tricky pieces involved. Siffrin can oneshot almost all basic enemies by the time of Act 4. It's this exact evalutation that you, the player, go through everytime you return to Dormont. Do I want this skill, still? Would it not be faster to go on without it? I'm repeating myself, but that's the thing! That's what Siffrin is thinking, too!

I also want to take a quick moment to note, here - all skills gained from hangouts have art associated with them, which no other skills do. This feature, the nifty art, hammers home these as "special" skills, besides just how they're unlocked.

Siffrin also has one skill with associated art.

Yeah, you guessed it, it's (Just attack.)

At first, helping the characters is tied to a hefty in-game reward, but that reward loses its value, and in return devalues helping Siffrin's friends every loop. It's too tedious for a skill that'll make a boss go by one turn faster. You, the player, grow jaded with the battle system. Grinding experience isn't worth it, everybody's highest levels are already recorded. Fighting bosses isn't worth it, it's much faster to loop forward.

Isn't this what all endgame in video games looks like? You already beat the final boss, and now... what challenge is left? Is there a point to keep playing? Most games will have some post-game content. A superboss to test your skills against, but ISAT doesn't have any of that. You're forever left chasing to the post-game. That's the whole point - to escape the game.

As most games get more difficult as time passes, ISAT only gets easier. The game becomes disinterested in expanding its own mechanics just as I ran out of new things to fight after 100%-ing Kingdom Hearts 3. Every encounter becomes a simple game of "press button to win."

The final boss just takes that one up a notch.

Spoilers for Act 5 ahead boys!

In Act 5, Siffrin utterly loses it. His last possible hope for escape failed him, told him there's nothing she can do, and Siffrin is trapped for eternity. So of course, they go insane and run up the entire House without their party.

This just proves what you already knew - you dont need the party to proceed. Siffrin alone is strong enough. And here, Siffrin has entirely shed the facade of the jokester they used to be. Every single skill now follows the (Just attack.) naming conventions. Your skills are: (Paper.) (Rock.) (Scissors.) (Breathe.)

To the point. Not a moment wasted, because Siffrin can't take a moment longer of any of this. Additionally, his level is set to 99 and his equipment becomes fixed. You can't even pick up items anymore! Not that you needed them at this point anyway, right? Honestly, I never used any items besides the Salty Broth since Act 2, so I stopped picking items up a long time ago. Now you just literally can't.

Something I've not talked about until now - one of the main equipment types in this game are Memories, gained for completing subquests or specific interactions and events. They all by and large have little effects - make Odile's tonics heal more, or have Mirabelle cast a shield at the start of combat. For the hangout events, you also gain an associated memory that boosts the characters' stats by 30. It lets them keep up with Siffrin again! A fresh wind! Finally, your party members feel on par with you again!

...For a time. And just like that, they're irrelevant again, just as helping them gave Siffrin a brief moment of hope that the power of friendship could fix everything.

In Act 5, your memory is set to "Memory of Emptiness." It allows you to loop back in the middle of combat. You literally can't die anymore. Not that Siffrin could've died by this point in the first place, unless you forgot about the King's instant-kill attack. This one memory takes away the false pretense that combat ever had any stakes. Siffrin's level being set to 99 means even the scant exp you get is completely wasted on them. All stakes and benefits from combat have been removed. It has become utterly pointless.

Frustrating, right? It's an artistic frustration, though. It traps you right here in Siffrin's shoes, because he hates that all these blinding Sadnesses are still walking around just as much. It all inspires just a tiny fraction of that deep rolling anger Siffrin experiences here in the player.

And listen, it was cathartic, that one time Siffrin snapped and stabbed the tutorial Sadness, wasn't it? Because who enjoys sitting through the tutorial that often? Siffrin doesn't. I don't, either.

So, since combat is an useless obstacle now meant to inspire frustration, what do you do for a boss? You can't well make it a gameplay challenge now, no. The bosses of Act 5 are an emotional challenge: a painful wait.

First, Siffrin fights the King, alone. This is already nervewracking because of one factor - in every other run, you need Mirabelle's shield skill, or else you're scripted to die. You're actually forced to fight the King multiple times in Act 3, and have to do it at least once in Act 4, though you'll likely do it more. Point is: you know how this fight works.

You know Siffrin's fight is doomed from the outset, but all you can do is keep slinging attacks. Siffrin is enough of a powerhouse to take the King's HP down, what with the healing and buff skills they have now, not to even mention you can just go all in on damage and then loop back.

(And no matter which way you play it, whether you just loop or use strategically, it reflects on Siffrin, too. Has he grown callous enough not even death will stop their mission? Or does he still avoid pain, as much as he can?)

This fight still allows you the artifice of even that much choice, not that it matters. The other shoe drops eventually - Siffrin becomes slower, and slower. Unsettling, considering this game works on an Action Gauge system. You barely get turns anymore. The screen gets darker, and darker. Until Siffrin is frozen in time, just as you knew he had to be, because you know how this encounter works, know it can't be cleared without Mirabelle.

And, then, a void.

Siffrin awakens to nothingness. The only way to tell you've hit a wall is if Siffrin has no walking animation to match your button inputs. You walk, and walk, until you're approached by.... you. The next enemy encounter of the game, and Siffrin's absolute lowest point: Mal Du Pays.

Or, "Homesickness," in english. If you know the game, you know why it's named this, but that's not the point at the moment.

Thing is, where you could damage the King and are damaged in turn, giving you at least a proper combat experience, even if its doomed to fail, Mal Du Pays has no such thing.

You can attack. You can defend. But it is immune to all attacks. And in return, it does nothing. It's common, at least, for undefeatable enemies to be a "survive" challenge, but nope. The entire fight is "press button and wait." Except, remember the previous fight against the King? The entire time, you were waiting for the big instant death attack to drop. That feeling, at least for me, carried forward. I was incredibly on edge just waiting for the other shoe to drop. And, as is a pattern, Siffrin is, too. As Siffrin's attacks fail to connect, they start talking to Mal Du Pays.

But he gets no response, as you get no attacks to strategize around. The wait for anything to happen is utterly agonizing. You and Siffrin are both waiting for something to happen. This isn't a fight. It just pretends to be. It's an utter rugpull, because Siffrin was so undefeatable for most of Act 4 and all of Act 5 so far. It's kind of terrifying!

and it does. It finally does something. Ma Du Pays speaks, in the voice of Siffrin's friends, listing out their deepest fears. I think it's honestly fantastic. You're forced to just sit here and listen to Siffrin's deepest doubts, things you know the characters could not say because it references the timeloops they're all utterly unaware of. This is all Siffrin, talking to himself. And all you, all Siffrin, can do, is keep wailing away on the enemy to no effect whatsoever.

So of course this ends with Siffrin giving up. What else can you do?

And then Siffrin's friends show up and unfreeze them and it's all very cool yay. The pure narrative scenes aren't really the main focus but I want to point out here:

A) Mirabelle is in the first party slot here, referencing how she's the de facto protagonist, and Bonnie fills in the fourth slot left empty, which shows all characters uniting to save Siffrin

B) this is the only instance of the other party members having act specific battle icons: they're all smiling brightly, further pushed by the upbeat music

C) the reflecting shield Mirabelle uses to freeze the King uses a variation of her hangout skill cut in, marking it as her true "final" skill and giving the whole fight a more climatic feeling.

It's also a short gameplay sequence with Siffrin utterly uninvolved in the battle. You can't even see them onscreen. But... it feels warm, doesn't it? Everybody coming together. Siffrin doesn't have to fight anymore.

At last, the King is defeated. Siffrin and co. make for the Head Housemaiden, to have her look at Siffrin's sudden illness. Siffrin is utterly exhausted, famished, running a fever. And this isn't unexpected - after all, their skills in Act 5 had no cooldown. For context, instead of featuring any sort of MP system, all skills work on a cooldown basis, where a character can't use it for a certain number of turns. The lowest cooldown is actually Siffrin's Knife to Meet You, which has a cooldown of 1. In universe, this is reasoned as the characters needing a break from spamming craft in order to not exhaust themselves.

Siffrin's skills in Act 5 having no cooldown/being infinitely spammable isn't a sign of their strength - it's a sign that he refuses to let himself rest in order to rush through as fast as possible.

Moving on, Siffrin panics when seeing the Head Housemaiden, because seeing her means one thing: the end. Prior to this in the game, every single time you beat the King, the loop ends when you talk to the Head Housemaiden.

Reality breaks down, the whole shebang. It's here that Siffrin realizes - they don't want the loops to end, because the end of their journey means their family will leave, and he'll be alone again. The happiest time of his life will be over.

Siffrin goes totally ballistic, to say the least.

As it turns out (and was heavily foreshadowed narratively), Siffrin has been using Wish Craft to subconciously cause the timeloop because of their abandonment issues. It's rather predictable if you paid attention to literally anything, but it's extremely notable how heavily Siffrin is paralleled to the King, the antagonist they swore to kill by themself at the start of Act 5. The King wants to freeze Vaugarde in time because it is, in his mind, "perfect," for accepting him after he lost his home - a backstory he shares with Siffrin.

Siffrin has become the exact antagonist he swore to kill, and it's shown by how the next fight utterly flips everything on its head.

Siffrin is the final boss.

In a towering form made of stars, Siffrin looks down at their friends. His face is terrified, because of his internal conflict; he can't hurt his friends, but he can't let them go, either. The combat prompt is simply changed to "END IT!"

This fight is similar to the previous, in that you just need to wait a certain number of turns until its over. However, this time, it's not dreadful suspense. It's... confusion, and hesitance.

You have two options for combat: Attack your friends, or attack yourself.

And... you don't really want to do either, I think. I certainly don't. But what else can you do? It's Siffrin's desires clashing in full force. Attack your friends, and force them to stay? Or attack yourself, and let them go safely without you?

Worth noting, here - when you attack Siffrin's friends, you can't harm them. Isabeau will shield all attacks. And when you attack yourself, Mirabelle will heal you back to full. And the friends don't... do anything, either. How could they? Occasionally, Mirabelle heals you and Isabeau shouts words of motivation, but the main thing is...

(Your friends don't know what to do.)

None of them want to harm Siffrin. Both sides simply stare at each other, resolute in their conviction but unwilling to end it with violence. It's of note that this loop, the last one, is the only loop where the King isn't killed. Just frozen. And now here is Siffrin, clamoring for the same eternity the King was. Of course everything ends in a tearfilled conversation as Siffrin sees their friends won't leave him, even after the journey ends, but I still have to appreciate this moment.

Siffrin is directly put in the position with their friends as his enemies, forced to physically reckon that keeping them in this loop is an act of violence, against both their friends, and against himself.

It's a happy ending. But... what does it mean?

Of course, ISAT is obviously about the fear of change. Siffrin is afraid of the journey ending, and of being alone. However, ISAT is also a game about games. Siffrin is playing the same game, over and over, because it's comforting. It's familiar. It's nice, to know exactly what happens next. These characters might just be predictable lines of dialogue, but... they feel like friends. Have you ever played a game, loved it, put countless hours into it, but you never finished it? Because you just couldn't bear to see it end? For the characters to leave your life, for there to be a void in your heart where the game used to be?

After all, maybe it became part of your routine! You play the game every day, slowly chipping away at it for weeks at a time. For me, I beat ISAT in four days. It utterly consumed me during this time. I had 36 hours of playtime by the end. Yeah, in that week, I did not do much more than play ISAT.

And once i beat it, i beat it, again. I restarted the game to see the few scenes I missed, most specifically the secret boss I won't talk about here. I... couldn't let go of the game yet. I wanted to see every scrap I could. I still do. I'm writing this, in part because I still do. It's scary to let go.

Ever heard the joke term of "Postgame Depression?" It's when you just beat a game, and you're suddenly sad. Maybe because the ending affected you emotionally and you need to process the feelings it invoked, or you search for something that can now fill your time with it gone.

The game ends, for real this time, the last time you talk to the Head Housemaiden. But Siffrin gets... scared. What if everything loops back again? And so, his family offers to hold his hand. They face the end, together.

For all loops, including the ending, you never see what happens after. After they leave the loop for good. Because the loop is the game itself. It's asking you to trust that life goes on for these characters, and it holds your hand as it asks you to let go. There's a reason for Siffrin's theater metaphors. He is the actor, and the director, asking everyone to do it over one more time. He's a character within the game, and its player.

There's a reason I talked about endgame content. This, the way it all repeats, there's nothing new, difficulty and stakes bleed away as you snap the game over your knee - it's my copy of White 2 with two hundred hours in it. It's me playing Fire Emblem Awakening in under 3 hours while skipping every cutscene. Are you playing for the sake of play, for the sake of indulging in your memories, because you're afraid of the hole it'll leave when you stop?

Of note: the narrative never condemns Siffrin for unwittingly causing their own suffering. He's a victim of circumstance. It's seen as endearing, even, that Siffrin loves their friends to the point of rather seeing the world destroyed than them gone. But Siffrin is also told: we'll stay with you for now, but we'll part ways eventually. And one day, you'll have to be okay with it.

Stop draining the things you love of every ounce of enjoyment just because you're afraid of what happens next. I'm not saying to never play your favorite games again. Playing ISAT a second time, I still had a lot of fun! I saw so many new things I didn't before, and I enjoyed myself immensely, reading the same dialogue over and over. But... it makes me look at other games I love and still play, and makes me ask... is this still fun? Do I still need to play this game to enjoy it? Even writing this is an afterimage of my enjoyment, but it's a new way to interact with the game, to analyze it through this lens. Fuck, man, I write fanfiction. Look at me.

All of this, fanart, fanfic, analysis, is a way to prolong that enjoyment without making yourself suffer for it. Without just going through the motions of enjoyment without actually experiencing any. But one day, the thing you love won't be fun to talk and write and draw about. And it's okay. You'll have new things to love. I promise.

In the end.... I'm certain I'll replay ISAT one day. Between great writing, art, puzzles and unresolved mysteries, it's my shoe-in for game of the year.

But I won't replay it for quite some time. I've had enough, for now, so I let my love take other forms.

Siffrin is never condemned, because love is no evil. Be it love for another person, or for a game. And please, if you're overempathetic - it's still a game, at the end of the day. The great thing about games is that you can always boot them up again, no matter how long its been.

A circle within a circle indeed.

To summarize:

The repetitiveness of ISAT's combat, lack of new enemies, and Siffrin's ever increasing strength eventually allows you to snap the combat over your knee, rendering it irrelevant and boring. Though this may seem counterproductive at first, it perfectly mirrors how Siffrin has also grown bored with these repeated encounters and views them only as an obstacle to get past. The reflection of Siffrin's own tiredness with the player's annoyance increases the compassion the player has for Siffrin as a character.

Additionally, the endgame state of the combat system serves as commentary on the state of a favorite game played too often, much like how Siffrin has unwittingly trapped themself in the loop. Despite the game having no more challenge or content left to over, a player might return to their favorite game anyway, solely to try and recreate the early experience of actually having fun with it. This ties into ISAT's metanarrative about the fear of change and refusal to let go of comfort even when the object (here, your favorite video game) offering that comfort has become utterly bereft of any substance to actually engage with. Playing for the sake of playing, with no actual investment to keep going besides your own memories.

Later on, stripping away even the pretense of strategy for a "press button and wait" format of final bosses highlights the lack of options at Siffrin's disposal and truly forces the player into their shoes. Truly, the only way to win is to stop playing.

[terrifiedlimechime]

RELATIVITY FALLS!

basically: gravity falls but the stan twins are kids and mabel and dipper are the adults in the plot of gravity falls

as well as that, I wanted to switch the villians. Bill is human and takes the place of gideon, and instead of obsessing over mabel he pursues ford (he's twelve as well lol. BILLFORD FOREVER!!!)

whereas gideon takes the place of bill, a chaos god (maybe i'll make him the shape of the star on his telepathy tent instead of a triangle, or I might tweak his human design a bit, idrk) who's obsessed with mabel.

people always put dipper in the place of ford (in the portal) bc he's a nerd, but to suit the switch of villans, mabel is getting sucked into the multiverse!

I like to think she got lulled into a false sense of security with gideon like in the show in the same way ford was with bill, but with fashion instead of science. (like when their still friends w lil gid and gideon brings her to get her nails n stuff done)

so in my au mabel is very into fashion the same way ford is into science, a prodigy with a insane talent for knitting, sowing, design, the whole shabang

while dipper is similar to the usual show, nerdy sci-fi obsessed wise guy but nothing too crazy

but together mabel and dipper solved mysteries in california together and someday dream of becoming "the mystery twins" and searching (in parallel to the stans) on a hot air balloon/ plane/ something sky related

but mabel gets offered a place in a big league fashion school, and they're going to come and see her project for the school fashion fair

dipper (like stan) is disgruntled by the dress interrupting their dreams and future together (parallel to dipper and mabel vs to the show. kind of)  and puts his hands on the dress angrily without thinking, staining the dress with his sweaty palms (like how stan is in the show, and how ford described him in journal three: "an abnormally sweaty 12 year old....perhaps he takes after stanley")

when the fashion gurus or whatever show up to see mabels design, they see the prints and dimiss her, ruining her chance at getting into her dream school. seeing the sweaty hand marks, thinks immediately of her brother, confronts him, the same as the scene in a tale of two stans essentially

d: "i...mabel, maybe this isnt all bad...at least we can go...be the mystery twins?"

m: "how could you say that?! why would I want to do anything with the person who sabotaged my future!"

so where does mabel go to college? you (probably) guessed it...backupsmore!

she begins a degree...yadayada, smart people stuff, clever references to the original show, blah blah blah, goes to college with candy and grenda (they take the place of mcgucket)

annnnd now a scene I over thought way too much) all her life, mabel had been teased for her crooked teeth, her messy hair, her stickers and glitter everywhere...etc, and she grew fascinated with beauty in imperfection, the whole maximalism, out of the ordinary/norms of fashion (the ford deciding to study abnormalities bc of his six fingers scenece is so important to me for no reason)

she grew curious of a certain place where the impossible seemed possible...

gravity falls! (how surprising)

and what, my dear reader, was our main man dipper up to?

well, much like stan, he struck gold in sales. or...selling by yourself anyway, as he'd been trying to selling his scifi abnormality comics, board games, fact books/ something like that bro. he was smart-ish, giving lectures ab science-y stuff in different colleges, not happy at all and js about providing for himself. he misses mabel...alot.

over with mabel, she's experimenting with the weirdness of gravity falls, enjoying it all with her friend, gideon! (spoiler alert: he sucks)

but at the end of the day...what is she waiting for? she can't just...be good....she has to remembered! to be put down history as...one of the greatest designers of all time! heck...what is she even working for if not to be put down in history? what has she studied for? she has to round of her studies with a bang!

luckily gideon has a few ideas...

g: you see...what if...you built a portal to another dimension? has any designer ever done that before? sent their models and crew to another universe? think...how you'd go down...the most revolutionary name in fashion! you'd be leading fashion AND science!"

(tw: this is a trick on gideons part lol)

mabel enlists the help of candy and grenda, blablabla whatever...mcgucket/ford situation all over again, someone sees the nightmare realm, traumatised forever, yadayada, mabel goes insane bc gideon is "less than nice..." (can you tell I'm getting lazy lmao)

dipper is just ab scraping by, making money by doing lectures and the like, hopping state each time he loses a job with a new name so he can work for another prestigious college w out the track record and trying to publish his scifi silly novel thingy when he gets a post card through the door of his motel:

°•.GRAVITY FALLS.•°

please come, -mabel

dipper makes his way to gravity falls, where mabel is immediately suspicious of him, checking his eyes to see if he's possessed, barbed grappling hook ready to shoot and looking very much like a crazed scientist rather then a fashion designer, and perhaps that's what she's become, moulded under gideons hand

she interrogates him, similarly to how ford interrogated stan:

m: *grappling hook ready to shoot* "HEY! WHO ARE YOU? HAVE YOU COME TO STEAL MY EYES?-"

d: "weird way to say welcome in, mabel"

hurring him in, she checks his eyes, lalalalala...mabel promptly shows him the third journal, branded with a shooting star.

m: "it's.. I don't know enough about science...me and candy, grenda, we started, i've put my heart and soul into these, dipper, but he needs them, and he can't have them, never...if he does..."

d: "god, mabel, I always knew you were crazy, but this is a whole new level. I thought you came here for fashion?"

blabla, backstory explanation to eachother (im this 🤏 close to giving up) when mabel pops the big question

m: "remember our plans...the mystery twins, adventuring in the skies, on a plane?"

dipper is really excited, this is the moment, all this science stuff, it was preparation for-

m: "get on a plane, fly as FAR away from here as possible, to the ends of the earth, and hide the journal-"

d: "wait...that's IT? I finally see you for the first time in YEARS and the first thing you want me to do is get as far away from you as possible?"

m: "listen-"

d: "no, YOU LISTEN. im excited to see my sister after a decade and you want me out of your sight? im just about scraping by while you're living it up in your fancy house in the woods doing fashion-glam shit! you think you've got it bad? i've got a MULLET, mabel! im trying my best to survive while you're all cushy in the woods-"

m: "you don't know what I've been through!-"

d: "what YOU'VE been through? I've lost my job in SEVERAL different states, while you're selfishly hoarding your college money-"

m: "ME? SELFISH? how could you say that after costing me my DREAM SCHOOL?

a bit more squabbling, basically the scene in a tale of two stans. in this au dipper isn't born with his big dipper mark on his forehead, rather he gets it burned onto his forehead the way stan gets his tattoo, mabel pauses, "im so sorry dipper-" gets pushed, the portal starts turning on, dipper pushes her away.

d: "tch, "mystery twins." how could I be so stupid? here's a simple mystery; why did mabel's brother travel four hours to roadkill oregon for her? because he thought his sister CARED for him. wanted to see him, even. possibly because he missed her. but dont worry, it wont happen again. some sister you turned out to be."

he does the whole push into the portal, ahhh mabel come back, oh no what have i done thingy. he immediately tries to opperate it, fails, blablabla. when he realises shes gone and not coming back, he screams, for a minute, half an hour, an hour, he doesn't know, he just cant do anything else.

doesn't sleep. for a long time. he doesn't really move off the couch, actually. he eats so he doesn't faint. or sleep. he doesn't go anywhere so he doesn't have to fix himself up or wash, because he feels he doesn't deserve the luxury of self care or nice food or comfort or rest. but eventually the food runs out and he decides he can't die without bringing back his sister.

at the shop, it's the same scene as with stan, "oooh smart science-y fashion person, do u give tours?" he has no money so he has to, it's shit at first but improves over time and so the mystery shack is born.

as much as dipper always loved the supernatural, he decides that he doesn't want another run in with the portal/ paranormal accident so all the attractions are fake. dipper is just as stressed and unhappy as before, but the tight clockwork of his life keeps him together. make money with the shack, save mabel. that's all that's keeping him here.

until the stan twins show up!

[pidgedee]

BEHOLD!! the party!

more info about this au under the cut because i love it So Much

first of all, you can read what i’ve written of this au here on ao3! it’s only backstory oneshots rn, but i do have a whole timeline plotted out that i’d love to keep chipping away at. but it’s taking me forever so here’s a little summary w some spoilers!

basically:

- tommy and wilbur meet when tommy is this twelve year old scruffy little street kid and wilbur is a traveling charlatan bard. tommy steals from him. wilbur casts hold person and goes “hey you fucker give me my goddamn wallet” and tommy goes 🤩 “ok but only if you show me how to do that” and because wilbur is easily manipulated by tommy’s charming street urchin ways, he agrees. and now they’re literal crime boys and travel together stealing and conning As Brothers <3

- tubbo was raised by a cult that believes he’s a prophesied savior, so tubbo ALSO believes he’s a prophesied savior. scott smajor is a divination wizard and part of the cult. one day some stranger wanders into the cult, realizes Oh My God This Cult Is Raising A Kidnapped Child, gets in over his head, murders a cult member (not scott smajor), and causes such a ruckus that tubbo gets kidnapped 2 electric boogaloo by a surviving cult member (this time it is scott smajor). a chaotic and bloody series of events ends with tubbo completely alone in the world and not sure where to go. luckily, there’s a certain bard-rogue duo to swoop him up and pull him into their party!

- quackity is Not a warlock no really guys seriously he’s just some guy. he’s just some guy who once accidentally wandered into a cult and murdered one of the cult members (they had it coming ok) and then sold his heart to a devil who, uh, took out the entire cult after that. we connecting the dots here? yeah. when quackity meets the rest of the gang, he and tubbo stand there spiderman meme pointing at each other but in Total Secret because neither of them are eager to reveal their backstories yet. tubbo kind of hates quackity. quackity does not know what to think of tubbo. it’s fun.

i’m cutting myself off here so i don’t ramble forever but IVE ALSO DONE SO MUCH WORLDBUILDING specifically regarding religion in this au. Ask Me About My D&D AU Pantheon

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Strip Me to My Bones

Slowburn!Tommy x autistic!fem!reader

Chapter One: The Mentalist of Minster

Prologue

Summary: You came to Birmingham for liberation, for freedom. To live. It was never your intention to attract the interest of a man with a red right hand. Yet you have, and for two years after meeting his cold gaze you were allowed to enjoy that freedom. But that cage may soon be closing on you again.

Warnings: Blackmail, period-typical sexism, contextual use of g-slur, Canon-typical violence, author is autistic, spoilers for series one possibly, slow burn. WC: 4.3k words

Like a Bengal tiger in the London Zoo. She doesn’t belong there, walking behind iron bars as the pads of her paws crease loose straw peppered on top of cold concrete. Onlookers gawk at a creature who has no way of hiding from their judgment. The handlers feed her, yes, but she is never fully satisfied.

For as long as you can remember, you have felt like a beast in a small cage. There are faded treads along the floorboards of your childhood bedroom. All caused by the pacing of the beast your family put into itchy dresses and floppy bows. You would tear at the vestiges of girlhood with vigor, but they would only grow tighter. Verbal language came late to you, a fact that your mother would hide by calling you “shy.” When the beast did speak, they were still not pleased, for she said precisely what she thought. You had a keen eye all your life, and to study your fellow man was what your mother had told you that you must do. Watch and observe those around you, so that you may one day learn how a lady must act. Unfortunately, you cared little for replicating what you saw. It was far more interesting to observe, analyze, and report. Which got you into trouble. Truthfulness and rudeness were twin siblings that you could not tell apart. Silence was forced back upon you.

The little things you did as a child that most adults found endearing became rude and unsightly. Rocking oneself back and forth was sweet for a child and unsettling for a teenager. You must stop that. Tracing the wood grain of your desk at school seemed creative until it wasn’t. You must stop that. Flapping your hands as you listen to your father’s records charmed many before you grew to about twelve. You must stop that. A caged beast can only pace, and so you did. You paced, and paced, and paced, and paced—

As you grew into adolescence, the cage stayed the same. Brother was allowed to journey off for his business and leisure. Sister attended school far from home. You remained caged, for, like all odd creatures, it was for your own good. It did not matter how curious or clever you were. The world was too wild for you now, so said your parents. Father was seldom home, and when he was, you were never certain which version of him would greet you. There was the gentle Mr. Hargreaves, who would talk with you about patterns in history and compliment your keen insight. Then there was Father. The one who berated you for your awkwardness and kept to his study with a bottle of scotch that seemed to fill itself every other day. He was brilliant, your father. A man of meager means used his ability to identify patterns to predict the market and make a fortune through investing. He was intelligent, successful, charismatic, and deeply troubled. He fought forever with himself until one day he lost the fight.

You were in your early twenties when your father died. Unwed and still living in the family home, this was the greatest change you faced in your entire life. His death was hard to accept for many. Tears were still falling as his last will and testament were read before the family. All his fortune was to be split in four. A portion to your mother, brother, sister, and you. The amount was read. It was a lot. Enough money that your cage now has a door. One with a handle on the inside.

For the first time in years, you stood perfectly still as you had your thoughts on it all. If you were to leave this cage, it would be for good.

When you announced to your family that you intended to use your piece of inheritance to buy a flat, your mother was horrified. It took you six months to find a flat in a city that you found agreeable. For all six of those months, your mother tried and tried to talk you out of it. She reminded you of how overwhelming change could be for you, how you knew no one outside of the family, and how you had never known such loneliness. She cried over how you would be living like a widow in a world that would see you as a harlot for being young, unwed, and without a male figure. You answered with a smile, “I have never cared for the thoughts of onlookers, and I will not begin that habit today.”

That was the last time you had seen your mother. Three, no, five years ago. Now you were the resident of Flat B10, Minster Drive, at the heart of Small Heath. All under her maiden name, just to add that healthy bit of distance between you and the Hargreaves name.

You were quite content buying necessities (bread, milk, butter, and Belgian chocolates) and had no need to work the first year of your independence due to your inherited fortune. On days with fair weather, you would walk about Birmingham for hours. Journeying to museums, libraries, gardens, and occasionally the Cut. During one of your long walks along the canal, you encountered a weeping woman. Feeling compelled to comfort her, you went to her and inquired as to why she was upset. Over the course of an hour, you learned much about her life and gave her some thoughts on her various struggles. Despite your lack of worldly experience, something in the way you spoke moved her. She thanked you with wide eyes and both hands gripping yours tightly. You went on with your day.

The following week, she found you as you walked to your favorite reading spot. She had a friend with her who also needed your advice. So, you gave it. The two women put money into your hands. Oddly, they wouldn’t take it back when you tried to return it. This happened again three days later. To avoid being interrupted on your walks, you gave them your address and times of the day when you would not be occupied. Sure enough, the two women came to your home for your advice. Only this time, they were referring to you as though your observations were metaphysical or supernatural in nature. They referred a young man to you after this, an ex-soldier with a fractured mind. He left your home convinced that you had seen the innards of his soul. You merely asked him questions and made valid inferences. This mattered not to him or your rapidly growing list of interested customers. Thus began your strange occupation as a “mentalist.” Such a strange thing, you thought, to be sought out and paid to do that which polite society shunned you for. Observe, analyze, and report. Summon details from your mental filing cabinet to illuminate that which is not obvious to those around you.

It took some adjusting, but within a year, the random visitors became routine. Your earnings were unneeded, but not without their use. And your clients seemed so in need of an unjudging ear. It felt as if you were engaging in some sort of public service. So, you carried on. They started to call you The Mentalist on Minster.

On a rainy morning in late 1919, with your popularity on the rise, a man came to your door.

He stood tall in a long gray coat. Sharp gray suit underneath with a pinstripe shirt and a thick, white collar. The cap on his head combined with the collar told you straight away that he was one of those men the old lady next door complained about. Search the files behind your eyes, Peaky Blinder. It occurred to you quickly that there may be a problem. You thought it best to be direct. “Can I help you?”

His eyes move left, then right, taking in the surroundings. You knew that meant he didn’t want to be seen here. Interesting. He stared back at you with the bluest eyes you had ever seen, and he answered your question as lightly as possible. “You see the future, I hear.”

His face was somewhat tanned on the cheeks. Where would a gangster get a tan in Small Heath? The Cut. They get supplies from there, you once heard. Supplies for what mattered little to you.

“I see people, for a price. Not the future. Nobody can do that. It’s rather early, so I hope you’ve got money in that big coat.” You step aside to let him in. Slowly, he entered your home. The stranger had full lips and high cheekbones, almost womanly in his beauty. Your mind raced to identify who he was and why he was there. The women in town talked about a family of pretty gypsies; they are the ones running the gang. The name, the name... Search the files...

“I normally have tea prepared, but you don’t drink tea anyway, so I won’t bother with the kettle this time.” You took a seat on your favorite sofa and tried to look relaxed. You heard that the criminal sort would take advantage of those who seemed rattled and disorganized. Maybe you should have changed out of your robe. That was hardly on your mind; you were still trying to find the bloody name.

The stranger threaded his fingers together on his lap. “They say you can see inside of people; tell them things about them that even they don’t know.” His voice was low, but not deep. Smooth. Cold. There was an accusation in the way he spoke to you. A challenge. It was odd that he would come to you for services he himself didn’t seem to believe in.

You played glib, “My, that’s a lovely review of my services! I should put that on a sign outside my doorway.” His face doesn’t give away humor or irritation. The name comes to you. “Though I would rather know why you came to see me, Mr. Shelby, You are Mr. Shelby, yes?”

“That I am,” he seemed amused, “and I am not entirely sure why I came to see you either.”

He told you most of what you needed to know without saying a word. People in great stress and desperation tend to do that. What you heard from his eyes irritated you. This Mr. Shelby was trying to use you as a coin flip. Tip the scales in a direction so it will be easier for him to make a decision. As politely as you could, you told him to make his choice and move on. He seemed satisfied. You got your payment. He left.

Days turned to weeks and weeks to months. You found out his first name was Thomas, and that he went on to overthrow the track king of Birmingham, Billy Kimber. The Shelby family’s infamy grew rapidly in the following months. Not that it mattered to you, as you have a steady flow of clients now. You were never sure if it had to do with Mr. Shelby’s visit. Years passed, and a week after 1921 was hailed in, there was a knocking at your door.

You open it while holding your cup of tea in your right hand. When you saw his face, you sighed. You had a feeling your cup would go cold.

He stares at you as he had two years ago. Focused. Incredulous. Still waters. His face isn’t kissed by the sun anymore. Colder. He looks colder.

“You came back,” you say, taking a sip of tea, “and in a better suit, Mr. Thomas Shelby.”

Meeting your statement of the obvious with one of his own, he says, “And you’re dressed this time.” He gestured to your white blouse and mulberry skirt. “Might I come in?”

Just as you did the first time, you step aside and let the devil into your home. His head swivels around as he lurks through your home. Past the walls of shadowboxes, the bookshelves of ancient histories, and your various taxidermized creatures.

You take him right back to your sitting room. He starts to lower himself as you remember something and fish out a small stack of cards from your skirt pocket. “Ah, Mr. Shelby. Here.” Carefully, you hand him one plain business card with your new moniker, ‘The Mentalist on Minster,’ and your phone number. Mr. Shelby takes it and turns it over in his hand with a hum. “Moving forward, you’ll need to call ahead. I’m quite busy these days, and I simply can’t take any walk-ins. You’re fine for today, however.”

He pockets it, chuckling to himself. Upon sitting down on the client’s sofa, his mood seems to darken. “It’s strange, isn’t it? The things that change and the things that stay the same?"

You don’t sit, not right away. His deep blue eyes find you standing in the doorway. “Is that a comment on my decorating or an opening for this second unscheduled visit?" Thomas puts his eyes back on your vine-covered window. They're thicker now, the vines. Some might call it growth. Others might call it a sign of decay. You wonder in which category you could place this man in your home. 

Mr. Shelby takes out a cigarette, lighting it. He doesn't ask permission. Mr. Shelby puts his cigarette on his lips, but he only holds it there. You can see his eyes flick at you briefly. All his motions are smooth and slow, even the small ones. “How did all this start? This business of yours.”

This conversation is irritating you, and it's only just begun. What sort of person arrives unannounced at someone's home just to waste their time? You cross your arms and say, “People tell me things; I listen, and then they give me money.” 

He takes a drag. Exhales. “They pay you to tell you things.”

Leaning against the doorway separating your sitting room from the dining room, you sigh, “I’m a very good listener, Mr. Shelby. So good, in fact, that people tell me things without even speaking.”

“Quite the ear you must have.” He's back to looking out the vine-covered window. 

You slip into the room and sit across from him with barely a thought to the cup in your hand. Tea might've dripped on your skirt, but it was worth it to finally see him move faster than a molasses drip to meet your eyes. “There are other ways to listen, of course. The way people move, speak, and shift in their seats It says more than anyone is willing to say.”

His lips purse as he nods thoughtfully. It didn’t seem terribly genuine, though. He clicks his tongue and asks, “Would you need to be in front of someone to ‘listen,’ to them?”

“Not always, but it can be difficult unless I can see the way they move. And to hear too much about someone can make it difficult because then my reading is tainted by the opinions of whoever informed me of the person. Bias is a powerful thing, you know.” You wait for him to respond. He just sits there, looking out your window. Unimpressed. “I am becoming irritated, Mr. Shelby. If you cannot explain your purpose in coming to my door, I will ask you to walk back out of it.”

Mr. Shelby doesn’t move; he doesn’t even blink. You set down your cup on the table that separates you and say, “It’s a woman. Again. A woman and your family, most likely. It certainly can’t be the law because you’ve come to me at a sensible hour. It can’t be money because, my God, you drove here. The only thing a man like you cannot control is love and family. When you lose your grasp on either one, you’re helpless. It’s too soft for you. It’s all the things you try to lock up so you can think clearly with bloodied fingers. Stop me if this starts to feel like a biography, Mr. Shelby.”

His eye stays on you, and his lips are parted around that blasted cigarette like a lover. Eyebrows raised just barely. The lion has been interrupted as he takes his drink at the watering hole. A beast recognizes one of its own kind, even in this place of concrete and smoke. You answer his question before he asks it: “I told you, people tell me things without even speaking.”

Finally, he says, “There’s a woman on my mind, and there she stays. No matter what I do,” he says, taking a long drag of his cigarette. Slow and deep.

“A bit pathetic to have the same problem twice you paused.“ Don’t repeat that; most of my repeat clients have repeat problems. Which shouldn’t bother me, as I do love to study patterns, but it is indeed pathetic. The woman isn’t dead, is she?”

A twitch at the corner of his lips hints at humor. You couldn't know that for Thomas Shelby, that was as close to a smile as many had gotten in several months. He exhales smoke from his nose; it curls around his head in a loose halo. “As far as I know, she is alive and well."

“Did she leave on her own, or did you shoo her away to try to be kind?”

A short, humorless chuckle escapes his lips. Either at being called ‘kind,’ or at your bluntness. It is hard to say. The halo dissipates in his loss of composure: “She was smart. She left.”

He seems to avoid meeting your gaze. It's not entirely unwelcome. Sometimes, when people look at you for too long, it feels like something is being asked of you that you cannot give. “It must be hard for you to be so arrogant and self-loathing all at once,” you state with sincerity.

He looked at you and gave you a nod of affirmation. "Whiskey helps."

"It clearly doesn't."

"It's a joke."

"It isn't funny,” you say, leaning forward with your elbows on your knees, “and it still isn’t everything. The first time you were here, you weren’t sure why you were here. This time is different. I knew it when I saw you. This was planned; you are here for a reason. Why don’t you just say it so that I don’t have to say it for you?”

The light that slips from between the vines lights his eyes. It’s a strange thing that a man so pretty would have a life like his. If you were truly a reader of minds and lives, maybe you could make better sense of him. Right now, you’re trying to play the game the way you think he might. Bluffing, just a little. Truthfully, you aren’t sure if there’s a real reason for his being here outside of interpersonal woes.

“Normally, I’m not fond of your type. Posh, educated, clean girl with soft hands that have never known labor... living among the working class by choice,” he leans back in his seat. The conversation has changed somehow. His posture has shifted slightly, head titled to the side as he stares down at your hunched-over body. You remain still, remain silent, and wait. He continues, “But I would like to hire you.”

“Hire me?” you scoff. “What would you need of someone like me? Surely you have people to gather information if that’s what you so desire.”

Mr. Shelby’s lips pull back in a self-satisfied smirk. “Finding papers and connecting them to people is a simpler task than one might think. Now, reading people—that’s an art. And I will be in need of an artist in the foreseeable future.”

A chortle leaves you before you say, “This has been fun, Mr. Shelby, but I think it’s time you left. I have no desire in being commissioned to be a consultant for an active criminal. Throw whatever numbers you like at me, but as you know, I’m posh. Money doesn’t concern me terribly.”

His next words are complimentary, but devastating “Yes, you’ve made a legitimate business for yourself, Miss Hargreaves. You must be proud.”

Heart into the stomach, plummeting. He had not been the first to correctly assume you were from the upper class. Anyone could guess you weren’t from Birmingham based only on your accent, but certainly not your name. “Hargreaves? Why did you call me Hargreaves?”

He only stares, silence fills the room and it’s not helping you at all. Your mind is racing. How could he know that name? How many people know who you are? All the money you have hidden away? 

You scoff and move to stand. Before you can order him to explain his intelligence, he says, “Trying to distance yourself from your conman father, are we?”

You could’ve struck him for that. But you don’t. Body tight, you spit “Did my words sting you so badly that you had to come back here to hurt me with lies?” No point in denying relation.

The slow blink he gives you is not at all encouraging for your case. He seems so bloody pleased with himself. You could swear he was smiling as he said, “I couldn’t help but want to learn more about you. And after some digging, I met someone who recognized you by description alone. They had so much to say about you, and so much more to say about Mr. Bertram Hargreaves.”

Leaning forward, you grip your knees to keep from grabbing this man by the throat. Father was never an entirely kind man, but he was brilliant. He made his fortune honestly. Brutally.

Light from the midday sun beams through the vines of your window, painting you both in slithering shadows. Chest rising and falling deeply, you say “That person spoke lies wrapped in truths to keep your attention, Mr. Shelby. I am indeed Mr. Bertram Hargreaves’ daughter, but he is no con-artist. I merely concealed my name for privacy. My father’s hands were clean in death.”

The sofa he sits upon groans softly as Thomas moves forward, slipping out of his casual posture and imitating your own “My source provided evidence. Would you like to see a piece of it?”

A piece of it? “Show me,” you bark.

Sighing, he shifts to the side and produces a thin folder from his inner coat pocket. The emblem on the side has your blood running cold immediately. He places it on the table between you and opens it. There, right in front of you, is a folder baring the Hargreaves family emblem with three pages of… payment records. With your father’s signature at the bottom. You’re able to read that an organization called Western Investment Liaisons was being paid hundreds—no, thousands of pounds by a variety of individuals and organizations. Before you could examine it closer, Thomas closed the folded and pulled it back. 

Wildly, you reach for it, “Let me see that! If you mean to accuse my father, I—"

“Miss Hargreaves,” his hand takes your wrist to stop you. Fingers slide just beneath the sleeve of your blouse. The touch of his fingertips is rough on your bare flesh. Mr. Shelby’s skin feels cool. Cool, not warm. You force your gaze down to where your hands meet. The sound if him moving closer makes you hold your breath. The space you crafted between yourself, and your clients has never felt so thin. You can feel the smoke of his exhale ghosting your hairline as his right hand reaches down. The lit end of his cigarette catches your eye. “I understand this is distressing. If this were ever to get out, I imagine your family would suffer under the harsh scrutiny of the upper class. They already looked down upon you and your family, the Hargreaves might as well be new money in their eyes. They’re all waiting for an excuse to discount all that your father did to put your family where they are now.”

“You are a starved, godless creature,” comes from between gritted teeth.

He carries on, as if he hadn’t heard you, “I know money doesn’t drive you. So, I think proper payment is this: in exchange of your cooperation, Things like this can just… go away.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you croak, “And what of the person who told you these things?”

The angry red tip of his cigarette hangs over your cup. He flecks the ashes of his cigarette into the tea. Gray ashes land on top of the murky water, collecting into small piles of soot before like a sinking to the bottom. You close your eyes as he says into your ear, “With time and money, people can go away too.”

Your head shoots up and you blurt out “Mr. Shelby! That’s— that isn’t what I meant, I just…”

With one last puff of his cigarette, Mr. Shelby drops it into your cup, “Do we have an agreement? Your services, on call, and in exchange the family reputation remains intact?”

All you can do is nod, dumbly. He rises from his seat and regards you with one last smirk: “And please, call me Tommy. We know so much about each other now; it’s only right to forgo the formalities, eh?”

Driven only by societal convention, you walk him to the door and usher him out. My mind was racing with all that had just transpired. Tommy holds up your business card and says, “Expect a phone call by next weekend. There’s a lot of work to be done.”

You close your door and push your back against it, fighting to control your breathing. Shaking hands start to flap as the urge to pace rises. Such a strange thing happened. So strange. You cannot force away the feeling that you’ve been caged yet again.

----

Taglist:

@eclectic-trash @weaponizedvirtue @girlwith-thepearlearring @perseny

[dazaiandhislovelybandages]

Maybe, Shinichiro with a s/o that is friendly but a bit of an air-head. S/O is 5 years younger than Shinichiro (if this part makes you uncomfortable you may skip it. OF COURSE DO THIS IN THE ADULT TIMELINE WHERE THEY ARE BOTH ADULTS). S/O used to be a gang leader, when she first told Shinichiro about it, he kinda freaked out, warning her about the dangers of gang world but s/o just told him to trust her. S/O is considered pretty, she has heart shaped face and small waist. When she was in high school, she rejected 20 love confessions, her reason? In s/o's words, she didn't understand romantic love (andshealsodidn'tfeelthesameasherpretenders), to the point she was even called a heartbreaker, despite her just being honest about what she felt 🥲. If you need height, s/o is 1.74

Oh, and s/o gets along pretty well with Manjiro and Emma. She came from an orphan center as well. (She lives with her best friend whom she calls a 'sister'). She surprisingly has 'innocent feelings as well (ex. Shinichiro once went to buy an earring pair but he got into an accident that left him in a hospital for a few days, when he came back to s/o with the earrings, s/o saw the injuries, then she cried "I don't want this! I don't want you to be hurt because of me!" 😭. Shinichiro upon seeing this was surprised but mostly moved.)

Gang Activity {Shinichiro Sano}

A/n: thanks for requesting but seriously, I didn't need that much of a detail because you almost wrote the piece yourself. That being said I didn't quite catch what the plot you wanted me to write was because I kind of got lost in the details you mentioned. And also yeah the details were pretty much useless because I don't include descriptions. I made the reader to be around the same age as Shin in the first timeline so about 22 or 23. Anyways, hope you like it.

Pairing: Shinichiro x fem!reader

Trigger Warnings: MANGA SPOILERS

“Shit's not good for your lungs Shin.” You hugged Shinichiro and he returned the gesture by placing a kiss on your cheek. 

  “Ugh I could get used to this.” He exclaimed, throwing his head back to look at you rolling your eyes. A devilish smile was plastered on his face, a triumphant look in his eyes celebrating the way he had actually avoided your comment. But had he really? No, you loved pestering him about him smoking habits and he loved it as well.

  “Listen, I really didn't want to do this but here I go.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I told Manjiro and Emma about you moving in and um… Manjiro wanted to help with the whole process… so he… he wants to carry your things with his friends.” A sigh escaped Shinichiro's lips. 

  “I don't mind really.” 

  Mikey was for sure trying his luck on you, something that Shinichiro despised, to say the least, so having him help you move out of the apartment you shared with your best friend was the worst case scenario according to him.  

  It was funny seeing him being jealous of his brother however. During your first days together, you had concluded that his innocent jealousy was only because he had never had a girlfriend before so he didn’t know how to act but later on you found it was more than that.

  “He is literally twelve, relax.” You giggled. “That's how boys his age act.” It was a desperate attempt on your side to relax your nerves as well and Shinichiro knew that.

You had been honest with him, had told him all about you coming from an orphanage and the difficult years you spent there and he had been more than understanding. But while he could understand how difficult living without any parents was since he had lost his own parents too, what he couldn't quite understand was the fact that you couldn't seperate your best friend that easily.

The two of you living together had only been a natural progress since you now spent most nights at his place rather than your own and even though you had been quite hesitant to accept, you did it because you knew that someday it would happen. You couldn't live with your best friend forever no matter how much you wanted to.

Not surprisingly enough, your best friend had been way more excited than you. In her words it was about time you actually did something for yourself and not for someone else.     

Mikey and his friends came to the shop right after school ended, one hour after yout arrival at Shinichiro’s shop, and by the way the young Sano boy had walked in, you figured out that there had been some kind of stupid argument between the two brothers. Mikey shook his head and introduced you to his friends: Baji, Haruchiyo and Senju, Haruchiyo’s little sister. 

It wasn't long until you found out that they were just as chaotic as Mikey was so it was no surprise that Shinichiro had almost emptied not only his pack of cigarettes but also a small bottle with aspirins by the time you left. 

  “Go and pack your stuff and take whatever you guys can with you. I'll come for the heavier things in like half an hour from now.” Shinichiro had said.   

  “Thank you guys for offering to help me, it means a lot.” You told them once you were alone. You couldn't tell how you managed to be more anxious around four little kids than every other adult you had ever met. It was silly, really, given the reputation you had. But of course, no one knew that yet.

  “It's our pleasure.” Haru smiled and Baji with Mikey aggressively nodded their heads in affirmation. Senju was holding her older brother’s hand, not really talking throughout the entire walk back to your house. 

  “Okay this is how it will go: I'll take my guitar along with two boxes and the rest of you can take this small suitcase with some of my clothes, okay?” 

  It wasn’t okay. They protested because they didn’t want to let you carry both your guitar and the two boxes all alone and so you ended up agreeing on you taking just one box, Mikey and Baji the other two boxes, Haru the small suitcase and Senju a bag with your jewellery. Obviously you didn’t give them any heavy things and they were so excited that they never noticed you taking your guitar even though you had promised not to. 

  “Say Y/n.” Baji spoke while you were all walking towards Mikey's house. You noticed his eyes were glued on the insides of the box he was carrying. “Were you in some sort of gang?” The rest of the kids abruptly stopped walking and turned around to look at you. 

  “I was the leader actually.”

  And yes that was the reputation you have been talking about. It wasn’t much to be honest and it had gotten you in trouble many times but you were proud of it.  

  Everyone seemed to be in awe and suddenly they became even more energetic, saying how amazing and cool you were. If you hadn’t stopped them, they would have set the boxes on the street just to take a look at the box in Baji’s hands. 

  “Y/n, you know how to fight, right?” Baji asked you. You had reached Mikey’s house by that time and were catching your breath, getting ready to leave again.  

  “I do.” 

  “Amazing!” Haru and Senju said in sync.

  “Big bro doesn't know shit about fighting and he always got beaten up even though he was the leader.” Mikey rolled his eyes. 

  “Why are we suddenly talking about gangs?” Shinichiro took the box you had forgotten to set down and placed it on the floor of his room. 

  “Y/n was in one.” Mikey said and Shinichiro's eyes widened at the sound of this new information. He looked at you and then at the box Baji had opened which contained your gang uniform and some pictures you had taken with the founder members. There was also one box back in your apartment that contained the gifts that the members had given you the day you disbanded the gang. 

  “I…” Shinichiro was at a loss for words. You already knew what he was going to say as if he hadn't been a member of a gang himself. "You know that shit is dangerous, right?"

"So? I was really good at it, you know?" You waved him off and picked up the box Baji had been carrying. “This contains meetings, fights and general hangouts with the gang. One of the founding members was aiming to become a filmmaker therefore he was filming everything. If you guys are interested, you can watch it.” You handed the cassette to Mikey and almost immediately he and his friends went to the living room. “Shin?” you reached out to your boyfriend once the kids left. 

  “How can you get even more amazing as the days pass?” He smiled and patted your head, bringing you close for a hug. “Why didn't you tell me?"

"You never asked."

[sixpossumsinatrenchcoat]

Start Again

An In Stars and Time postgame retrospective that revolves around everyone's favorite star. Bigtime "secret ending" spoilers below the cut!!!!!

It’s the oldest story in the book. Evil squirms up from the shadows. A hero rises to quell it. She goes on a journey, gathers allies, gathers strength. The party climbs the tower. They face the villain. They face the villain. They face the villain. They face the villain. They face the villain. They face the villain. They face the villain. They face the villain. They face the villain. They face the villain. They face the villain. They face the villain. They face the villain. They face the villain. They face the villain. They face the villain. They face the villain. They face the villain. They face the villain. They—

[you give up you GIVE UP YOU DON'T WANT TO DO THIS ANYMORE]

The most infuriating part is—

Well, no. The most infuriating part is the colossal cosmic insult of your existence. Having to know that there’s some snot-nosed little fetus who can count his deaths on two hands toddling around wearing your face like a party mask. Trying and failing and hiding and lying and grinding your nose in every blinding stupid thing you’ve ever done.

The fact that your pathetic little protege clocks you on their first guess is just the icing on the cake.

(“A gentleperson never tells,” you drawled, when Siffrin asked you who you really were. “Why don’t you take a guess?”

But of course the stupid little freak could never just be normal about something. They only stared, unblinking, drowning you in the black hole of their silence. Galaxies scattered and shattered and bloomed while you waited for an answer.

“Um,” they said at last. “Well. You’re… me, right? You’d have to be.”)

Of course. Of course!! You’d have to be!!!! Who else could be such a pathetic blinding shambles of a total blinding failure of a—

Ha ha!! Ha ha ha!!! Oh, the irony!!! Oh, the theatre of it all!! What else could you do but laugh!!!!!

*

* * *

* * * * *

* * *

*

[you breathe in, and out]

For a few months, it feels like your little family will be together forever. Traveling by foot or covered wagon; fording rivers and cresting mountains and chasing the sun past the horizon… How could anyone tire of this?

But Vaugaurde isn’t frozen anymore. Change is a part of life. So, one by one, they do.

When Mira gets the letter inviting her to consult on the experimental re-org of the House of Dormont’s academic curriculum, Sif hugs her, beaming, and tells her that she’s going to be amazing.

When Odile admits that she needs to pay a visit to her father—(“alone, please; the old bastard wouldn’t know what to do with you kids and all your feelings”)—Sif smiles and nods and scurries off to “rustle up some dinner” before returning, more than six hours later, with an entire glittering midden of freshly caught trout.

They don’t really fall apart until Petra announces that it’s time for Bonnie to enroll in an actual school.

“They’re twelve,” she says fiercely, glaring around the campfire as though anyone had been dumb enough to argue. “Travel is informative, but it won’t give them a sound foundation. They need perspective. Context. Maths. And none of us are qualified. Don’t argue, you already know that it’s true.”

Of course Isabeau is quick to agree—mostly because she’s right, but also because he’d prefer to keep his head attached to his shoulders, thank you very much.

Siffrin, of course, is all smiles. They smile and nod and smile and nod and agree at every turn, always smiling smiling smiling. And then they disappear for six days without leaving a note.

Isa tries not to worry. He even mostly succeeds. Sif gets skittish sometimes, but they always come home in the end.

###

It’s the middle of the night when a very warm body with very cold hands wriggles into Isa’s sleeproll. There’s a slow exhale, the smell of wet stone and warm sugar. Isa’s toes curl in his socks. This is his favorite part.

“Mmh,” he hums gratefully, and then yelps when Siffrin slips their hands under his shirt to warm their icy fingers on his belly.

Sif doesn’t answer right away. They just breathe into his shoulder, shivering. Then: “I don’t want them to go.”

Oh, yeah. “Yeah.”

“I was alone, before,” Sif says quietly. “I guess forever. As long as I remember.” They fall silent for a moment, hesitant. “It was. Worse.”

Isa hooks a knee around them and pulls them in closer. “Missed you so much,” he mumbles.

“Now, or before?”

“Mh… Dunno. Both?” Isa’s past self flashes in his mind, gangly and twitchy and totally ruled by fear. Even half-asleep, he can’t help cringing. “…You wouldn’t have liked me before.”

“I would’ve liked you,” Sif says scornfully.

“I was. Rrrrreally quiet.”

“Are you stupid?”

Pffft. Fair. “Sif?”

“Mh?”

“Do you wanna buy a caravan?”

Sif pulls away just enough to shoot him a baffled stare.

“Like… a storefront.” Isa’s been thinking about it since Sif disappeared. Probably he could do a better job explaining if he wasn’t at least 80% asleep. “For clothes? But. It moves.”

What he means is, Our family lives all over. What if we could too?

Fortunately, Siffrin is a peerless genius and almost-always knows what Isa’s trying to say. “Oh. Yes.”

“Love you so bad,” Isabeau mumbles.

“...Sorry.”

Isa flicks them on the ear.

“(Ow.)”

“M’not sorry,” Isa mutters.

“I know.”

“So don’t be either.”

“Okay.”

“Mrmhhh,” Isa grumbles. “Lying?”

Sif snickers. “Only sort of. Or, I mean—I’ll try.”

“Don’t leave me behind.”

“I won’t.”

“And then I won’t either.”

Siffrin doesn't answer, but he can feel their smile against his shoulder.

###

(When they’re both a little more awake, he walks Sif through the whole pitch.

“See? See?? That way, I could work with artisans all over the continent! I’d been hoping to collaborate with more designers from Ka Bue; they’ve got a totally different aesthetic when it comes to textiles and, and silhouettes, and— And it’s advertising, too! Showcasing my stuff to folks all over Vaugaurde!”

“Hm,” Sif hums, frowning. “Is this just so we can see everyone whenever we want? Without it seeming needy, or… pathetic?”

“Yeah, of course!! What else!!”

Sif’s eye creases fondly. “Yeah. Of course. What else.”)

###

The caravan was a good idea. It’s not just a way to see their family more. It’s a way to see everything. To carry their home around on their backs, like a cozy little snailshell for two. A snail duplex. And besides! Sif has always been Isa’s favorite model.

###

By the time Isabeau is finished making adjustments to the signature set for his new line, the sun’s already set.

Sif frowns down at one long, drapey sleeve. “I don’t know. I feel a little… obvious?”

“I think you mean glamorous!!!”

“Possibly,” Sif concedes. “I think they sort of feel the same.”

Isabeau laughs. “You know—and heads up, ‘cause this might blow your mind—but a lot of people want to be seen.”

“Yeah, right.”

“It’s true!! Some people even want to look cool!! Or rad!!! Or cute!!!”

“Can’t relate.”

“Only ‘cause you look so cool already,” Isa assures them. “So you don’t even hafta think about it. For most people, looking that cute is hard work!!”

“Sounds fake,” Sif sniffs. “But I guess you’d know. You do have an a-cute-ly honed sense for this stuff.”

“Pfffh—HAH!!!! Yeah!!! Yes!!! And—And as soon as I can buy a new sewing kit, you’ll be looking just as sharp! Ehh???”

“I guess that’s something we have in common,” Siffrin snickers. “We could both use some new material.”

Before Isa can come up with a retort, there’s a sharp knock on the caravan’s front window.

The both of them flinch around, surprised. They’re kind of in the middle of nowhere. And it’s already past dark.

Isabeau hesitates. “Umm…”

“We’re closed,” Sif hisses.

“Ohh, I’m not a customer,” the stranger says sunnily. “Not really my style—no offense meant, of course. No, I’m just looking to make some change.”

“Hey, no problem!” Isa’s already leaping into action, slipping out of Sif’s reach so he can pull open the till. He’s never had it in him to turn anyone away. It’s extremely inconvenient, and also one of his best qualities. (Siffrin loves him so much.)

“Wow, that’s sooo~ nice of you,” the stranger purrs. They’re willowy and lean and almost alarmingly good-looking, with laughing eyes and one bone-white braid swinging past their knees. Their long, flowy skirt has been Crafted to shimmer subtly, like sunlight over morning dew; and their cropped shirt is strung across their back with an intricate web of spidery threads. Flecks of seaglass clink from the chains on their shoulders and the rings on their fingers, drawing attention to the criss-cross of vivid burn-scars striping their hands and arms. “I do hope I’m not interrupting. I’d just hate to be an inconvenience.”

“No trouble!” Isa tells them cheerfully. “What are you looking to break? A tenpiece, or—”

A silver coin plinks against the counter.

“Oh,” Isabeau mumbles, a little off-balance. “Uh. I’m not sure we have anything smaller than a halfpiece…”

He glances toward Sif for confirmation—Siffrin forgets a lot of things, but they’re very, very good at keeping track of an inventory. But when he sees the look on their face, he can’t help flinching. Siffrin has gone utterly still. Unmoving. Unblinking. It looks like they’re not even breathing.

“S-Sif?” Isa whispers. Then he blinks and suddenly Sif is already behind him, having flicked across the caravan in such a violent blur of motion that he never even saw them move. (They do that sometimes. But not usually when there’s anyone looking.)

“You,” Sif breathes.

The stranger bats their eyes. “Oh, Stars, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. Do I, perhaps, bear some resemblance to—”

“Stop that.” Sif has come a long way, but they’re still pretty jumpy about touch. So Isa almost does a spit-take when they vault over the counter and hit the stranger, hard, square on the shoulder. “Why are you doing that? What’s wrong with you? What took you so long???”

Before Isa can step between them, the stranger lets out a tinkling little giggle. “Ohh, Stardust. You were always soooo~ dramatic. It’s been no time at all!”

“Six months!!”

“Barely a blink of an eye!”

“I thought I’d never see you again!!”

“Aww,” the stranger purrs. “Were you, perhaps, worried about me?”

“Yes!! Obviously!!!”

“But of course I wasn’t going to disappear forever. I super duper promised! Besides…” They roll the coin between their fingers and then, in a startling blur of motion, pull another from behind Siffrin’s ear. (Sif’s lucky coin, Isa realizes. The one he helped them Craft to a brooch so they could wear it over their heart.) “We are bonded, after all.”

They have the gall to wink at Isabeau when they say it.

“You’re—huh??” Isa sputters. “What?? Sif???”

Sif looks embarrassed. “That’s… not exactly how I’d put it.”

(So it’s sort-of how they’d put it????)

Of course Isa knows that there are things Sif doesn’t tell him—things that Sif doesn’t tell anyone. But a secret bonded partner is a pretty big thing to leave unsaid. “Um????”

“It’s not romantic,” Sif says, defensive.

The stranger smiles slyly. “It’s a little bit romantic.”

“Hah!” Sif scoffs. “In the—the literary sense, maybe!!”

“Like a beautiful stageplay!”

“A Poterian tragedy.”

“But tragedy is always sooo~ romantic.”

“UM,” Isabeau says, a little too loud. “I—don’t really know what’s happening. Which is fine!! Totally fine!! But it sounds like you guys have some stuff to catch up on, so maybe I should… give you… some space? Do you want space? Should I not give you space?”

“Teehee! Be careful, now! Keep thinking that hard and you’ll sprain something!” The stranger leans across the counter to pat him on the shoulder. “Take a hike, big guy. I’ll take them from here.”

“You can’t talk to him like that,” Siffrin snaps.

“Yeahhh, I’m pretty sure I can.”

Sif shakes their head. “He doesn’t know that you’re—um. You know. So it’s… meaner? I think.”

To Isabeau’s surprise, the stranger actually seems to consider that. “Oh. Hm. I’ll… think about it.”

Sif nods at them before turning to Isa. “But—yes. We do sort of need to talk. And space would maybe help. Sorry. Is it okay?”

“Of course!! I’ll just, um, get out of your hair!!!”

As Isabeau sidesteps past them, Sif catches him by the hand and squeezes. “I really will explain. I just sort of wasn’t sure I was allowed? Or I already would have.”

Isabeau relaxes a little. “Okay. Um. I love you.”

This time, it’s unmistakeable. For just a second, the stranger’s face goes taut with fury.

“Please leave now,” Sif says quickly. “But, um, yes. Talk to you soon.”

###

…There’s a long silence.

Isa doesn’t want to listen in, but there isn't really anywhere to go. It's a moonless night, almost lightless, and this part of the country is crisscrossed with narrow streams of deep, fast-moving water. Isabeau has many talents, but he still can't breathe underwater. And it would be pretty stupid to survive the King only to trip into a river and drown. So he can’t help hearing when the stranger clears their throat.

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” they mutter darkly.

“Okay.”

“I was just planning to make some friends first. And then grind them in your stupid ugly face. No offense.”

“None taken.”

“But it turns out that, in spite of my scintillating wit and ethereal beauty, people find me immensely unlikeable. Me!! Can you even imagine?”

“Yes,” Sif says promptly. They take a moment to think it over before adding, “Easily.”

“Well, there’s no accounting for taste,” the stranger sniffs. “Really, though! I thought hardship was supposed to build character! But it’s almost like countless eons of torment actually made me worse!”

“Um,” Sif says. “Yeah.”

“And then when you still wouldn’t stop bugging me—“

Isabeau chokes on a breath.

Unexpectedly, Sif does, too. “—Wait, what?”

“What do you think?” the stranger demands. “All that wishing, wishing, wishing!! Yanking on my brain all day and night like a needy toddler! I mean, really! Get a hobby or something!“

This time, Isabeau can’t just bite his tongue. “Sif!!” he gasps. “You were doing Wish Craft???”

“I wasn’t!!”

The stranger peers around the caravan to give Isa a judgmental glare. “I thought you were giving us space. Not very honest, are you? Is that a new personality you’re trying on? Being a big sneaky liar? Because, if I can be honest, it doesn’t really suit you.”

Isabeau blanches. “Y-You guys were being really loud!!! And I thought we agreed—“

“It wasn’t Wish Craft!!” Sif cuts in. “I was just— If I saw a shooting star, or a pretty leaf or something, I just… hoped I might see them again! That they’d get to keep their promise, get a chance at something better! That’s all!!”

“Aw, Stardust~~” the stranger coos. “What are you, like, obsessed with me?”

“No!! I just feel horrible about it!! Obviously!!”

“Well! Well… good!! I mean. You did steal my only chance at happiness.”

“I know!!”

“And condemn me to live out my days as the punchline to a really mean-spirited joke.”

“Obviously!!!”

“And you’re literally soooo embarrassing. Can you even imagine? No, really, think about it! Having to watch all the worst mistakes you’ve ever made play out in the third person, over and over and over again?”

“Yes!! I pretty much constantly imagine it!!!!”

“Teehee,” the stranger giggles prettily. “Well! To be honest, I came looking because I wanted to make you feel bad. But it looks like you’re doing a pretty good job of it all on your own! Nice work, Stardust!”

“No it isn’t,” Isa groans. “Sif, we’ve talked about this! Beating yourself up doesn’t help any—“ A beat too late, the neurons finally connect. Stardust, the stranger said. Where has he heard that before? “Waaaiiiit. Wait a second… You’re that star, aren’t you? Loop, right?”

He’s not expecting to see both of them flinch.

“Stop,” Sif blurts out, the word clipped with panic. “That’s not— You don’t know what you’re—”

“Yup!!!!” the stranger says brightly. “Haha!!! That’s me!!!! Everyone’s favorite star!!!!! I’m a person now!!!! Isn’t that just a shocking turn of events!!!!”

“Um. Uh. Yyyy….yes?”

Siffrin turns to the (former) star, looking pained. “That’s— Are you sure? You don’t have to—”

“HA HA HA!!!!!” Loop almost screams. “What a fascinating notion!!! But, just for the sake of argument, consider this counterpoint: eat shit and die!!!!”

“I just don’t think it has to be like this,” Siffrin mutters.

“Well!! You wouldn’t, wouldn’t you!! You don’t have to think about anything!!!! You don’t even need that eye!!! You can just go limp and let everyone lead you by the nose toward the next stupid blinding monument to your achievements!!!!”

Siffrin listens calmly, nodding. Then they ask, “Will you travel with us?”

“Wh-What???” Loop sputters.

“Uhhh,” Isa says. “...What?”

“We’re on our way to pick up Bonnie. And then we’re meeting Odile outside Dormont. Mira’s giving a speech.”

“Okay???” Loop says defensively. “I still don’t see—”

“You said you couldn’t make friends,” Sif explains. “But I don’t think it’s ‘cause w— ‘Cause you’re unlikable. People are just… confusing. Mostly. Our friends are… less hard.”

“B-But,” Loop stammers. “But—even if that was true, the last thing they’d want is another weird little freak hanging off their coattails.”

“They don’t mind,” Sif says firmly. “They keep saying so. And you’re not even little. Why are you taller than me?”

Kind of a weird question, if you ask Isabeau, but the former star just snorts. “Must be all that character I built. Maybe it leant me a little more ~gravitas~.”

They startle violently when Siffrin reaches out and takes their hand.

“Please,” Sif says seriously. “It was so unfair. All of it. But it doesn’t have to be like that forever. Not completely, anyway.”

Loop flicks him off like a spider and flashes a bright, glassy smile. “Ohhh~, Stardust. You really don’t get it, do you? It’s much too late for that sort of thing. I’m already ruined, hehe! I can’t ever go back.”

“So go forward.”

Loop’s pale eyes widen. Seemingly against their will, a nervous giggle slips out of them. “H-Haha… Just like that, huh?”

“Only if you want,” Siffrin shrugs. “But... well. I do.”

###

“…Sif?” Isa mumbles, when they’ve finally turned in for the night. He’s pretty sure he only sounds a little bit pathetic. “Um… how do you know them? And why do you know a star? And why do they look so different?”

Siffrin sighs. “If they’re not telling, I shouldn’t either. But. Um. I guess I can probably say that… we’re from the same country.”

“What!! Really??” 

Sif nods. 

“Like the King???”

Another nod.

“Is everyone from your country some kind of… weird eldritch demigod?”

Siffrin’s face shutters. “I wouldn't know.”

Oof. Yeah. Obviously. Is Isabeau ever going to learn to stop putting his foot in his mouth? “R-Right. Um… duh. Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Sif sighs, softening. “Sorry. I’m just. A little overwhelmed. It’s… a lot to take in.”

That makes sense. Isa feels that way, too, and he only ever met Loop once. “Um. Um… Y-You don’t have to answer right now; I totally get it if you need some time to clear your head, but… I guess I was just wondering… You don’t have any more secret partners, right? I-It’s okay if you do!!! As long as you’re still mine, too. For as long as you want to be, I mean. It’s just… It might be nice to know…”

Sif’s smile softens. They reach up and curl one hand around the back of Isa’s neck, pulling him down till they can bump his forehead with theirs. “Like I said. It’s really not like that. (I don’t think.) But, no. No more. …That I remember.”

It’s not the most reassuring thing that Isa’s ever heard, but he’ll take what he can get.

this story is technically part 3 of a series, but it's more of a triptych than a trilogy! (i.e. all existing chapters stand on their own, but exist as pieces of a larger picture). if you wanna read the rest before i wrap the last chapter, feel free to swing by AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52448152/chapters/132681694

[asexualbookbird]

Hm. Okay. So I didn't read a lot this last month. I've been fighting chronic illness and the brain fog that comes with it so really it's a miracle I read what I did. Didn't do any drawing challenge this year, but I DID knit a half dozen cool little things I can't yet share but am very excited about! I also had fun with the Tricking Treats this year. Yall really came through for that game this year, thanks! Acquired a nice new monitor for computer and it's been wonderful. Next step is speakers so I can watch things!

I feel like I made a pretty decent dent in my yearly reading list and while I don't think I'll finish it (waitlist for Jasmine Throne audio is still about sixteen weeks long), I'm happy with where I am. Three (3!!) books I read this month were from the list and I think that's very cool and executive functioning of me.

In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan ⭐⭐⭐½ - A friend has been trying to get me to read this since it came out and I've always put it off because our tastes are SO different, but I didn't hate this! I mostly enjoyed it! It missed a few marks for me and I wouldn't really want to read it again, but I'm glad I experienced it. Love a good gremlin of a main character.

Red Sister by Mark Lawrence ⭐ - Yawn. Snore. Boring. Read for book club, but I wasn't exactly not interested in it on my own. IT just. Didn't hit right. Mark Lawrence needs to stop being afraid of aging up his characters because there is no way a nine year old is doing all that. Was this scifi? Where those space ships?? Is the moon haunted??? Who knows. Who cares. Not I.

Strange the Dreamer by Laini Taylor ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - I am forever a Daughter of Smoke and Bone girlie (gender neutral) so I've been avoiding this because what if I don't like it?? Spoiler! I did like it! It somehow scratched the hole left in my heart after DoSaB, but still felt distinct and unique. Did not like the insta love going on, yall have known each other for like twelve hours what do you mean you're In Love. Visuals were great and world building stunning as always. I wish Laini Taylor published more books, I love the worlds she creates.

Once & Future by AR Capetta and Cory McCarthy ⭐ - I'm never reading another book with Jimmy Pees name on it ever again. I meant to do a full review on this one, but time slipped away. I think this could be SO GOOD if it was reworked to two books where book one stopped at the time skip and book two took more time to overthrow the Evil Capitalist. It was too on the nose. It felt like middle grade, it dealt with older young adult topics. Merlin fucking sucked. I find it icky that everyone was paired off except for the ace character who EVERYONE HATED. Sure they came around to her, but ONLY AFTER IT WAS MADE CLEAR SHE WASN'T INTO GWEN. Ick. Full of potential, and yet.

Not a great reading month. Maybe November will be kinder. I'm slowly getting through Sunbringer, and am enjoying what I'm read so far so things are looking up. Going to see Nerd Squad soon. Still making knitted things I can't share until after the holidays. Tricking Treats also made me excited to do art again and because there were so many I ended up learning a lot about how CSP works which is fun! So hey! November is looking good! November is looking fun! I WILL MAKE IT FUN!

[kurooandkenmasslut]

"𝐈𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲." - Katy Perry.

𝐆𝐈𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐎𝐊𝐀 x 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 (angst, manga spoilers under the cut, drabble.) I thought of this on the spot lmfao

P.2

Giyuu rubbed your head as you sobbed into his chest. He was murmuring sweet words to you as big salty tears had went into Giyuu's clothes, not that he minded.

It was after the muzan war. You were only a villager, secretly Giyuu's wife. You didn't want to involve yourself into getting killed, so you were just a simple woman who makes clothes. Just a normal citizen who worried for her husband's safety when he was not with you.

But after he came home, his arm gone, and a slight smile on his face as he told you the news of the demon king getting defeated. You were delighted that he came back home to you and prayed for the souls who died fighting.

Your life was picture perfect, you easily got used to Giyuu sleeping next to you, as he always went for missions and it was quite rare to see him next to you. Eventually, you got pregnant with your first-ever baby, making you and Giyuu jump with joy. He had asked you if you could cut his hair short, and you agreed. He smiled more often, which made you happier then ever.

His 25th birthday was on tomorrow, and you invited Uzui and his wives, along with tanjiro, his friends, even Sanemi Shinazugawa, who accordingly to Giyuu, doesn't like him, but it seemed after the war, his cold and harsh temper had calmed down a bit.

But the only thing is, he told you some disturbing and horrifying news.

"Y/n."

"Yes, 'yuu?"

"I want to tell you something."

"eh? What is it 'yuu?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at him, crawling more closer to him. Silence filled the room as Giyuu's rose lips opened and closed, his eyes looking lost on where to start. He closed his eyes, looking at you again.

"I fought 'uppermoon three' Akaza." He said firmly.

"Oh, is that it? You told me this before 'Yuu, you almost got me worried!" You nervously giggled, he looked as if he was gonna say more, which he did.

" I fought him and... I activated his 'demon slayer mark.' which makes me more stronger and faster. But there is something in return." He said, looking into your (e/c) eyes, the moonlight making them more brighter as your eyebrows furrowed.

"..what.. What do you mean 'Yuu? What are you saying? Your scaring me.." You mumbled, starting at him worringly.

"The day I turn 25, I will die." that statement broke your heart into pieces. It shattered like glass breaking, crack, crack, crack. Your hands shook, tears welling up.

"im sorry, for not telling you sooner, sweetheart. I love you so, so, so much." He apologized, but you only sobbed in response.

You broke down, latching onto him, flopping onto his chest. If this was in any other situation, you two would laugh, but in this situation, only sobs filled the room.

"I love you, I love you Giyuu Tomioka, don't leave me, please, don't leave me! I can't do this without you, I can't, I can't!" "I'm sorry, we will meet again, in another life, we will be together forever, I swear! I love you with all my fibre of my being, I love you so much, Y/n."

"𝑮𝑰𝒀𝑼𝑼!!" you used to yell that name with joy and excitement, but now there was just sadness.

The clock struck twelve, and Giyuu Tomioka, went limp.

[thatmclarengirlie]

i fear i might be cooking and this is how it starts (this fic is going to take a long ass time to write tho):

2024 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix

He’s running P3, in the same way he has P3 secured in the championship.

He knows the corners by heart, as any Formula One driver should.

The left of turn one, then the high speed corners, then the sharp left. Flat out, break into the chicane, flat out again. Push. Extract the maximum out of the car. The hairpin that is turn nine, the rights of ten, eleven and twelve.

He can push harder into thirteen. He knows the Ferrari beneath him hasn’t been the best it could be, but it is a capable car that he is intimately acquainted with.

Man and machine must become one in this sport.

If they are not moving in perfect synchrony, victory will forever prove elusive.

Turn thirteen, take the left, left again into fourteen-

But what happens when machine fails man?

…

Charles dares to breathe.

He blinks.

He takes another breath.

These, though he doesn’t realize it, are the last moments of peace that he will know for a long, long while.

Pain rips through him.

He can’t move. His back is locked into place, but he’s in agony.

He hears the voice of his race engineer asking if he’s okay. But the voice is faraway, almost falling on deaf ears, unable to outpower the ringing in Charles’ ears.

He can barely breathe. The sheer hurt has spread from his back into what feels like every bone, muscle, tendon, nerve of his body.

The car could catch fire and he would be helpless but to succumb to it.

He vaguely registers voices speaking to him. But the words are blurring together, he can’t make sense of them. They’re asking questions, their eyes are worried, they need him to speak. He can’t bring himself to speak. The only thing his body is capable of doing right now is feeling, and the only thing it can feel is pain.

It’s not only the kind of pain that hurts like hell every time he moves. It’s not just the kind of pain where he knows the recovery will be near impossible.

It’s the type of pain that makes him want to scream until his voice goes raw. It’s the type of pain that has him terrified to take his next breath in fear that one wrong movement and it would be over.

The last he sees are the flashing lights of an ambulance. He can’t tell whether he’s screaming, crying, speaking, breathing. It just burns, it burns and it throbs and it hurts, it hurts in a way that he’s not sure he will ever forget.

It hurts in a way that could very well haunt the rest of his life.

Then it goes black.

spoiler he’s gonna be out for 2025, then come in HOT in 2026

and max is gonna love it

[sneeg-snag]

The hero’s journey and Shilo, an in depth analysis.

HI GUYSSS I was tasked with outlining how a character of my choice followed the twelve step process of the hero's journey. Due to the fact I am chronically obsessed with JRWI, I decided to pick Shilo as A) he is a very well rounded character who has very interesting dynamics and follows the journey quite closely and B) His story is “ended” (and I also remember most of it LMAO). 

Black is anything I turned in for my assignment and is a bit more barebones as it was supposed to be a minimum of 300 words and I wrote… 900… and red is all of my added and more in depth analysis of Shilo’s journey for those who have actually Watched The Show and understand what I mean when I say “The character of Edward Twilight is a formidable and powerful villain against the main characters''. also thank u @codecicle for egging me on i probably maybe wouldnt have gone as in depth if u hadnt asked for it <3. Lastly, THERE ARE SO MANY SUCKENING SPOILERS IN HERE I DO NOT HOLD BACK PLEASE DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT SPOILERS!

Without further adu… ENJOY!!!

For my character that follows the hero's journey, I picked Shilo Bathory from the ttrpg podcast Just Roll With It. Some context to the character and the story, he is a character in a game the players of Just Roll With It play called Vampire: the Masquerade (think Dungeons and Dragons but with a different ruleset and Vampire themed), where he is one of the three main characters. It is a comedy drama podcast, with some things being on the sillier side while still retaining a story. He is a vampire prince who was locked in his mothers castle from birth Rapunzel style, and we start the story when he is itching to get out. (Had to give some people a like. Overview cause you will a) always find me promoing jrwi and b) there is like. So much going on all at once in this damn podcast) 

1.Call to adventure: Shilo, sick of being trapped in his room, searches outside and finds several papers in his mothers study detailing how one person was being tracked and followed in the streets of Los Angeles. He decides he wants to escape said entrapment and searches for a way to escape. Shilo is an interesting figure when it comes to the call for adventure, because rather than being called by an outside force like many other stories (ex, Rapunzel is egged on by the appearance of Flynn Rider or Rolan Deep being called back by his parents funeral) Shilo makes his own call. He is the one who breaks into his mothers study and he is the one to decide to go. This is influenced by a lot of things- like how it is the start of a VTM campaign and Bizly cannot just sit and wait for forever, but it also opens the question of would Charlie have made one if Bizly did not already take action? 

2. Refusal: Shilo notably skips this step, mostly ready to jump into the adventure due to his nativity and belief he will be safe as he is the prince of his vampire clan. However this can be interpreted as his mother blocking him from leaving and even restricting him by magical means from even speaking about the documents he found. Referencing back to the last step, it's very interesting how the refusal manifests as someone else rather than Shilos own inner turmoil. It is like the characters that would normally play in these two steps -his mother and himself- switch, creating a more interesting story when it is himself who has chosen to leave and the juxtaposition later that causes when he enters LA. 

3. Supernatural aid: Shilo himself, as a vampire can be interpreted as his own supernatural aid, however notable at this point he is overtaken by a supernatural anger at being treated like a child. His player rolls very well for the stealthy and supernatural actions he takes to push past any obstacles facing him getting to Los Angeles. The seer at the door can also be interpreted as said supernatural aid, as she tells Shilo how to go through the door and is sort of the classic “old person helping the young protagonist” type. I think she will 100% be more important later and possibly assume this role in Shilo and possibly Emiezl's life due to her being there when the twins were born and being the overseer of Salem (Pepper) but in the current season we have now, she is simply a guard to the door. 

4. Stepping through the threshold: Shilo physically and mentally steps through the threshold in his story. He finds his way through The Darkened Door, a physical door that can take him wherever he wishes. The physical one comes to Los Angeles, which is a complete turnaround for Shilo from his quiet castle room. The lights are bright, the city is busy, and the people are mean. Shilo throughout the story remarks on this and how he is very much a fish out of water. I personally love his “LA sucks” phrase because to him, it really does and plays off comedically on how he was the one to want to visit LA and get out of his castle doors. Of all places to go, it was LA, the complete juxtaposition of the Umber castle. ESPECIALLY since he can’t even dress like a normal human and must dress like a gaudy victorian vampire. (a trait I REALLY wish was brought up more. Granted who knows maybe people think it's just someone doing a late night cosplay (clown walk /ref))

5. Belly of the whale: Shilos first belly of the whale conflict is when he realizes he is not 24/7 protected and regarded as infallible royalty in the city of LA when he tries to enter a club that seems to be a hideout for vampire society and proceedingly gets arrested. He is taken from his group and quickly placed in jail where he will later get bailed out after repeating how cops are heroes to him. This one was hard for me to choose what Shilos “first” trial was. Originally I was going to go with his altercation with Emeziels (his?) father, due to the fact he erases his memory without an afterthought and that emphasizes the whole lesson of “consequences” later on. However, I really do think Shilos first moment of being in deep- in the “belly of the whale” was the aforementioned club altercation and his subsequent jail time. He is no longer this kid who can bat his eyes at the primogens or his mom when he gets caught out of his room, and is now a functioning member of society that must abide by both vampire and human laws. It’s a moment of “oh”, although this is kind of overshadowed by the fact Shilo is like “yay police ride!! They're the good guys!” and later sets in when they are not on his side and when he speaks to Soda. 

6. Road of trials: This is where most of the events of the podcast take place. Shilo and his group have many trials, through the story, including but not limited to getting into a huge vampire party, finding information on the main villain he meets at said party, finding out his mother has died due to vampire hunters that are now hot on his trail, all while avoiding the consequences of his own actions. Okay this one's kinda self explanatory. I trust yall to get it and I really don't wanna go in depth because i'm LAZY. I really considered mentioning things like the unseen one but I wanted to make it seem like a much more cohesive plot to my classmates than what the suckening really is (cause looking back good lord is it all over the damn place bro)

7. Meeting with the goddess: The character(s) I would consider the traditional “goddess” in Shilo’s story is the group known as The Midnight Circle. They are a group of female witches that help Shlio and his companions on gaining knowledge on both how to deface and bring down the main villain of the story and their curse as vampires. They can only succeed however, by working through their own personal doubts and gripes with their curses and helping each other. Shilo succeeds with flying colors, and he gives up his eye (mechanically, in the game, his insight and perception bonuses) in favor of knowledge of the main villains and his own mothers origin. This one is also kinda self explanatory. Though I am kind of sad that the midnight circle is like. The only figures who could be considered the goddess in this story. You could technically argue that both The Midnight Circle AND the Unseen One could be the typical “goddess” figure, but I digress.

8. The temptress: The temptress character on the flipside is actually quite a stray from the regular idea of a sultry maiden in this story. Some might say it can even be skipped, but I'd like to interpret it as the main villain. Early on in the story, the main villain had Shilo “drink his blood” several times unknowingly, leading to a game mechanic called a “blood bond” where the drinker is entranced by the vampire whos blood they drank and on higher levels (eg. the more blood they drink) has to obey their beck and call. In some of the final episodes of the story he makes Shilo a victim to his wills, leading Shilo to accidentally give up all the proof they have to defame him to said villain. It’s quite a huge roadblock in the final parts of said story, and the players must find a way around it. You can tell I really wanted to get this point across and went all out explaining the blood bond LMAO. I really do feel like for Shilo, Edward is the temptress in a less-orthodox way of a woman who the protagonist might lust after, and instead is this force that physically calls Shilo and interrupts his plans. On Tumblr, people have pointed out how because Shilo is very aro/ aroace coded, this very well can be interpreted as a sexual assault metaphor. Unknowingly drinking Edwards blood, several times, the fact he was undressed and redressed in matching clothes as Edward, the way Grizzly describes the music (that we cannot hear, only the players) Condi put on as “romantic” only fulfills this. Hell, Nathan Hanover himself said Edwards original music was supposed to have a chorus of moans. Imagine that playing over the scene where Shilo wakes up? I could very much go on about Shilo being treated narratively “like a girl” and how that affects his story and progression but this thing is already so long and id want to find and quote the tumblr posts this idea spawned from because it's important to me people actually get credit <3. Overall though, Edward Twilight ABSOLUTELY fits the temptress role in Shilos story, especially in the scene where he calls on Shilo while Shilo has the evidence of his wrongdoings and all Shilo can do is just. Follow along. 

9. Atonement with the father: This is actually one of the few steps Shilo skips, as he does not really have a father figure and this step falls more on his companion through the story, Arthur, who’s entire arc revolves around his past family and father. <- I actually LIED here. Shilo DOES have an atonement with the father- and that is with Deacon! I didn't want to introduce this new character and have to explain who this new guy was to the story on step nine LMAO. However, Shilo doesn't have an “atonement” with Deacon, and in fact after Edward takes all the proof of him breaking the masquerade from Shilo, Deacon does not believe him. It’s a very sad moment, and really plays into Deacon and Shilo’s relationship and dynamic through the whole story. Shilo believed Deacon was a person to go to for safety and protection, someone who would believe him though and through, and instead Deacon is fallible. He attacks Shilos friends after Club Crepuscule is blown up, he does not answer any of Shilos messages after he calls a billion times, he brings him straight to Edward after Shilo is hurt, and he does not believe what Shilo says about Edward. He shows again and again how he really only does things for his own gain, and honestly, I think if Shilo wasn’t the prince he would have left him to die many times. A vampire cop is still a cop y'know. 

He also has a strange fucking voice/person?? In his room??? I feel like we don't talk about this enough hello????

10. Apotheosis: Teehee. Apotheosis. This stage happens when Shilo’s previous actions throughout the road of trials comes to bite him, and consequences are on the horizon. An old man Shilo has accidentally let into the world and knowledge of vampire society is kidnapped and left up to be food for the main villains “end all be all” game (a hunger games style arena). Shilo does his best to save this old man, but in the end fails, and realizes how his actions have consequences in a very heartbreaking moment. I do think Shilo actually has TWO apotheosis, but I thought for word count and explanation I’d only mention Ben. The second (and honestly my and probably many others) first thought was when Shilo loses his innocence trait when making Edward Twilight “ugly” in front of all vampire society. Both of these events play into different traits and lessons Shilo has been learning through the course of The Suckening. Ben represents the fact he does have consequences to his actions and what he does matters in the grand scheme of things, not only to him but to others. His loss of innocence is about how he is no longer a child who is protected by his mother in the castle, and instead is someone who has the power to do what he wants when he wants. These two apotheosis also play into each other. Without the realization of consequences Ben brings Shilo, he could easily fall into being a manipulative creature without much humanity or care for those around him just like Edward and the other vampires of vampire society. Without the loss of the innocence trait and bringing down Edward Twilight, he could shrink into himself and become an anxious defeated child, whose mother is dead and who is a slave to the whims of someone much more powerful than him. It creates a very interesting end to this chapter of Shilo's life, and with the promise of a second season, creates suspense for where this new version of him is going to go. 

11. Ultimate boon: Playing off the last step, Shilo realizes how he isnt a small child protected by the castle walls anymore, and does have consequences to the actions he takes, especially on those he cares about. I forgot what the ultimate boon thing was. Give me a second. OH okay for more context the ultimate boon is the accomplishment of the goal the protagonist set out to do. Shilo’s “main goals” move a lot through the story. At first, it’s escaping the castle to find who his mother is tracking. Then its getting used to LA. Then it's taking down Edward Twilight and finding a good replacement, which morphs into becoming a good leader himself. At the end of The Suckening, a couple of Shilos goals are not met yet, and Charlie and Bizly actually speak in the QNA how originally the Suckening was supposed to be on a much bigger scale than LA, so we can imagine in the next installment we will possibly see Shilo’s goals of a good ruler being met, or they will shift as he grows into himself outside the castle walls. 

12. The return: Shilo, after finally defacing the main villain, Shilo is picked up by one of their companions' helicopter, and flown away from the other companion, watching as said other companion is burnt to a crisp by the rising sun. This ones really simple, as Shilo does not “return” to his home. Instead he is picked up by Real Taylor Lautner, and the story ends. 

13. Crossing of return threshold: This is where Shilo’s story truly breaks from the hero's journey, as his story is cut short and left open ended. There is a whisper of season two in the works (although it seems very far away), and hopefully we will see Shilo return to his broken castle home, a changed person without his mother and new knowledge of the outside world. I really do hope we get to see him return, as it is a very interesting dynamic and as mentioned earlier, the trio was supposed to take on all of Vampire Society rather than just Edward, so I really do hope we are not cut off from Shilo’s heroes arc too early and maybe we simply restart back to the road of trials when we get season two. 

Shilo is a very interesting character, who one may argue isn't even a hero. He follows some of the steps of the hero's journey, but also subverts some of the traditional steps with his beginning and ending. He is a very complicated and interesting character, and this analysis is also here to show how the JRWI boys follow said hero's journey in one way or another. Not to sound like a cringey youtuber but if you have more thoughts/things to add PLEASE PLEASE TELL ME!!!! I would love to speak about this more (not just to myself lmao) and there are a lot of points I missed (LIKE SHILO RIPPING OUT THAT ONE GUYS THROAT BEING A TURNING POINT IM SO MAD I COULDNT FIT THAT IN). Overall, I love The Suckening, and I think how Shilo is handled and played as a character is very intriguing! And also I might need to get tested for autism. 

[yandere-daydreams]

NO LILIA he's so silly

minor diasomnia spoilers

he's the silliest unfortunately T-T i just binged the first twenty chapters of diasomnia's book today, and,,,, yeah. kinda starting to see why malleus is acting like that. imagine your dad just comes up to you during lunch (meaning LITTERALLY the middle of the day) and tells you that he's dropping out of the highschool that you both attend and moving to the other side of the planet to feed birds and die ig. and you don't even get invited to rummage through his stuff with your adopted brother and man servant. AND your shiny new human tells you they're going to return to their own dimension and Disappear Forever less than a full twelve hours later. i'd provably freak out and do a little magical kidnapping too tbh.

[that-ari-blogger]

No Thoughts, Head Empty, Evil (Hell Is Forever)

Hazbin Hotel doesn’t have time for subtlety, so it takes the most direct approach to any plot point. I want to stress that this is the fault of management insisting on an eight-episode runtime and not the writers and directors. Everyone who cared about this series put in a lot of effort and skill and that needs to be commended.

Notably, one rout taken to negate some of the pacing effects brought on by management was the first episode being as overt as possible. Here are two songs, one says what the hero thinks, one says what the villain thinks, they cannot coexist.

And Adam is a really good villain for this type of setup, because he isn’t particularly complicated. He’s a misogynist who has made narcissism his entire personality, and that’s about it. He doesn’t need to be complex, he needs to be bad.

Hell Is Forever then only needs to get across the most important parts of Adam’s character: Hypocrisy, bigotry, and unoriginality.

Let me explain.

CONTENT WARNING: Foul language.

SPOILERS AHEAD (Hazbin Hotel)

In this context, the unoriginality insult is levied at Adam as a person and not as a character. Adam is a really novel take on the biblical character, but also the archetype he is playing. There are some really cool details that I will go into in detail in a moment.

But as a guy, Adam is painfully uncreative. Case and point: his language style is so basic.

I mentioned in my previous post that Charlie is characterised as naïve, but I deliberately didn’t say anything about this as a youthful lack of knowledge. The series as a whole takes great care to not get the two misconstrued, and Charlie is always treated as the adult she is.

Adam, meanwhile, has the vocabulary of a twelve-year-old who just learned the word “fuck.” He has nothing else going on than dirty jokes and immaturity. He’s puerile.

Lexicon is a character tool. Every word has its place, and every situation has about a hundred ways of approaching it through language. If a character everything in the same exact way, it implies that they approach the rest of their life with the same brute force technique. One size fits all in this person’s mind.

Note that this does not apply to real people, a person can curse and swear as much as they like. Symbolism is not a force of nature.

Adam’s unoriginality actually does take an interesting form in his music. It’s rock, and it sounds cool, but it misses the heart of what rock is as a genre, at least to me.

Rock is transgressive. It’s about raw expression and emotion. It’s a genre about being free from constraints and letting loose. Take Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing by Set It Off, and The Hand That Feeds by the Crane Wives, for example.

The former is about betrayal and feels like a journey through the stages of grief at a broken relationship as it ricochets from unfettered anger in the verses to a more manic-depressive pleading in the chorus, until crashing into a form of acceptance that immediately subverts itself as the song returns to its chorus and the perspective character is unable to move on.

It twists fairy tales to show the corruption of what could have been a storybook romance and lays the blame entirely on the protagonist's ex-partner.

Meanwhile, The Hand That Feeds isn’t really a rock song until it abruptly is. It’s a slow, lilting melody about powerlessness in the face of capitalism and the danger of “the great American ruse.” It has a bit of venom to it as it speaks of loss like a survivor showing off their scars. Then it goes quiet for a moment as its protagonist starts talking about the present and future, before releasing that stored energy into a mantra that speaks of being unchained in the face of the horrors she is describing. It’s a statement of hope, a war cry to raise the morale the downtrodden and a threat to those who hold together institutional injustice.

“I may never be a rich man but the rich man will never have me, never have me I may never be a rich man but I can make sure that I am free”.

Compare that to Adam, who sings:

“The rules are black and white There’s no use to tryin’ to fight it. They’re burning for their lives Until we kill ‘em again.”

Are you picking up on the thematic dissonance here? Its appropriation of an aesthetic without any thought going into it. It’s Adam using a genre about freedom to say “no, the system is fine actually,” and that misuse plays into something else as well.

Adam's wings also allow him to manipulate the cinematography. As he flies, the audience takes the side of Charlie looking up at him as he regards us both with distain.

Music is a tool of expression being heard. That’s why Seraphine should be the most dangerous character in League Of Legends but isn’t because Riot is Riot. Music makes an idea palatable and easy to convey.

Adam’s use of the genre takes that tool and irons it out. It makes the meaning less special by mixing it with utter horseshit that effectively waters it down, therefore stripping those he oppresses of a key tool to band together and achieve their freedom.

He doesn’t even do this intentionally, he's not intelligent enough to do that; the meaning is a side effect of his greater motive.

In that way, Adam is like an AI image generator. He scrubs the source material for shallow things that people like and turns them into something that looks half decent but doesn’t actually mean anything. It’s a disregard for those who paved the way for the thing he likes because it doesn’t occur to him that any of them had any actual thoughts.

This carries over into the visuals, which are just token edginess without any of the punch to them that actually make edginess special. The black and white shot is cool visually, but it’s the most literal visualisation of what he is saying, same with the thing of the image of the pot a few seconds later. There were so many ways to get the idea across, but Adam is uncreative and went for the obvious because it was easier.

Here is what Adam thinks better is. It's just heaven. He thinks of himself and his people as inherently superior, so to go with a line about chances, he shows heaven. Its uncreative on his part, but really interesting storytelling being done by the writers.

On the other hand, the lyrics of this song pull double duty by undercutting Adam at every moment possible to display his hypocrisy. The man is a walking satire of himself, and the writers know it.

Why do I think this? You may ask. Context, I answer.

This song is one of those moments from media that I have heard misused a few times by people who agree with the guy who say it, and by a few people who disagree and think that the author shares the character’s views. I would put the “You Can’t Handle The Truth” speech from A Few Good Men in this category, as well as Feed The Machine by Poor Man’s Poison.

Feed The Machine is a song about political corruption and classism. It’s the idea of “what if we said the quiet part out loud” and is aggressively morbid. It is most definitely not a song about gamers not getting what they want. There are a ton of reasons to get upset with Microsoft, don’t get me wrong, but using this song to protest in that context just looks like Dudley complaining about only getting 36 birthday presents.

A Few Good Men is the most egregious example, because holy moly is it misconstrued. The speech declares that the army is necessary and therefore allowed to get away with whatever they want because the truth is too unpleasant. It talks about the sacrifices needed to win.

But you do realise he’s wrong, right? Jack Nickleson is charismatic, sure, but his character, Jessep, is the villain. The sacrifice in question was the assault and death of a recruit, and this is happening in peace time. The man is a prison guardian in Guantanamo Bay after the cold war and before the war on terror. What is he guarding against? He’s justifying manslaughter with the vague concept of an enemy. He’s overtly in the wrong.

This is the Alf Garnett problem. It doesn’t matter how bad you make a satire, there will always be someone who is actually worse and who doesn’t read the writing on the wall.

For the record, I would also put most of what Catra does in She-Ra and the Princesses of Power into this basket, but I have an entire other series exploring that, so check that out if you want to know more.

Adam is, like Jessep, the villain of the story, and his antagonism is based in his hypocrisy. He spends the entirety of the song claiming that the rules of heaven are set in stone, but are they? He declared that the extermination would be sped up because “fuck you, I do what I want,” and the rules are never actually stated.

Most notably, how does anyone actually get into heaven? We still don’t know that and season one has wrapped up and hinted at an answer. It’s all speculation at this point.

I mentioned in my previous post that this series is aimed at the internet and Tumblr specifically, and Adam actually factors into it, because for a satire set in the Judaeo-Christian afterlife, the series is weirdly averse to critiquing its setting.

Instead, the series uses it as a visualisation of the themes and relies on the version presented in the Devine Comedy rather than anything more specific to the source beliefs.

As such, Adam exemplified the idea of retributive justice. The idea that if you are good, you can make bad people suffer, which I personally disagree with as a concept.

Adam takes on a mournful affectation for this line, the dissonance of which makes me laugh so much. It's like "I have to do a murder, or I will be sad, and you wouldn't want me to be sad, would you?" He's such a shmuck.

“For those of us with divine ordainment, extermination is entertainment.”

It is fun to Adam to watch bad people get their just deserts. And putting aside for a moment the inherently dubious morality of “bad” being ambiguously defined, it also doesn’t take into account the complexity of individuals that cannot be generalised.

Perhaps a person made a mistake or genuinely didn’t take into account the consequences. Maybe a person needed to make the decision because they had no other choice, like stealing money to pay for a medical procedure. What if someone wasn’t thinking straight and made a rash decision because they were tired or inebriated.

Or how about this: A person knowingly and willingly did an abhorrent thing, like a murder, and then regretted it and devoted themselves to getting better as a person and atoning for it.

Your mileage may vary on the morality of all of these people, but if I was to ask you individually if each of them deserved death, what would you say?

The show's specific word choice here, "winners", is a representation of Adam's justification. He thinks that he has earned the right to do genocide and that the penalty for losing a game whose rules he is actively making up, is death.

Looping back to the ethics of this, what is defined as bad in this story?

Is stealing enough to get you into hell? How much would you have to steal? If you walked home from school with a pencil you borrowed from a friend and forgot to give back, that’s technically stealing, so are you going to hell?

Similarly, the series implies a Judaeo-Christian moral code, but that changes depending on the denomination and location. In some places, homosexuality is a sin, would that get someone in this universe damned for all time even if their particular church disagreed with that specific doctrine?

This is all compounded by the fact that, it doesn’t matter what you did to get to hell, the extermination aims to kill as many people as it can, one size fits all punishment.

Which leads to my critique of the internet, because say what you will about its benefits, the internet is awful at nuance, and it is awful at morality. Youtube and Twitter incentivise controversy through their algorithms, and while Tumblr doesn’t have that problem as bad, I have seen so many people in the media analysis side of this platform complain about how x character didn’t receive enough punishment for what they did, or y character’s redemption arc can’t work because they were too bad before.

And people act like Adam and Lute online, either shouting down others to drown them out or by speaking quickly to out debate people with arguments that don’t actually make sense when you think about them.

This is why the popular moral grey character these days is just either a fully good character who wears eyeliner or a fully bad character who’s blonde, but it also strays into how we view our own world.

The internet talks about the world with a black and white morality that just doesn’t fit. I live in a country where one politician being unapologetically terrible as a person means that everyone else is suddenly an angel and everything they do is forgiven, which is exhausting.

Yes, there are evil people out there, and there are good people, but the vast majority of humanity is somewhere in the middle.

People get really emotional online, and the desire to take revenge out on fictional characters is fine, they’re fictional. But take care to not let that stray into how you interact with real people. The internet has far too many horror stories of angry people hurting others because “its ok to hurt them, they hurt someone else, and this is payback”.

After I wrote this @comicaurora put out a post that made my point in a really succinct way, so go read that.

The most chilling example of this is that while writing this post, I was worried people would think I was generalising and assume I have accused them of being awful human beings for misconstruing characters. That’s not what I’m trying to do, I’m just saying that morality is complex and the internet as a whole isn’t very good at understanding that, so we should all try to work together and get better at nuanced thinking.

Be kind to people, essentially. Everyone has a story and some even have reasons for what they do.

Before I go, I despise the visual designs of the angels. I think in concept they are cool, but in practice I don’t quite buy them. However, the one thing that really works for me is that the exorcists all have one eye crossed out. An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind.

Final Thoughts

I want to focus on my thesis for this series. As in, I think the series is fundamentally about hope. Hope for a better future, hope that you can get better, hope against all odds. So it’s important to me that Adam as a villain goes out of his way to tell Charlie that her hope is misplaced and that it won’t go anywhere.

But that’s the thing about hope, if there was a reason to believe, hope wouldn’t be necessary. Hope exists when there is no proof, and it inspires. Adam’s attempts to tell Charlie that she’ doesn’t have a chance fall on deaf ears because she knows what he’s telling her, it’s all been said before.

The difference being, thanks to the extermination, Charlie and the crew as a whole have no choice but to hope. Adam has brought on his own destruction through his callousness. If he had just left hell alone, it would have got better over time, sure, but it wouldn’t have done so in battle.

In other words, oppressors can only bring about their own demise when they make resistance the only viable option.

Next week, I will be looking at Stayed Gone and Alastor’s introduction, but I also have a post planned for this Sunday in which I will go into Lavendertowne’s second batch of redesigns and explore how they tell their story. So, stick around if that interests you.

Previous - Next

[carigm]

Today Millie had a fan panel in which she answered that her ideal ending would be Mike and El getting married and Will being happy and confessing to Mike (lol) and ofc the Stranger Things fandom kicked up the old Byler vs Mlvn war once again, regardless of the fact she doesn’t write the show. But I want to break down some points here about things I’ve been noticing today, but also for a while and that I think need to be discussed. Keep reading if you want.

I’ve seen a lot of hostility towards Byler and Bylers on Twitter lately, saying we’re delusional and don’t know what we’re talking about. This always seems to be the go to argument even tho it’s all in the narrative. Today it got really bad after Millie’s comments and even people that were merely disagreeing with her opinions got called everything from delusional to misogynistic.

IF the Duffers suddenly decided to ignore everything they’ve carefully crafted and put into their narrative that doesn’t make anyone delusional, it just makes them terrible writers. Who would be doing a great disservice to all three characters involved in the love triangle.

There’s been an insurgence (on Twitter) of so called “Will stans” who seem to be completely fine with the idea of mlvn being endgame because “Will can just get another boyfriend” Not only is this insulting to what the writers have already established for Will’s character but it’s also a defense and endorsement of the worst kind of lazy/bad writing that could graze our screens.

The Duffers CHOSE to tie Will’s character arc to Mike’s and El’s.

How do you expect them to undo that and create a well fleshed out character that’s deserving of Will, in 8 episodes that we know are not just gonna be dedicated to Will’s supposed love interest, because there’s a shit ton of stuff to resolve?

If this was the route the Duffers were going for, they could’ve clearly given Will a love interest last season (like with Robin) or two seasons ago (like with Dustin) And yet somehow, people think it would be totally okay for Will to get the most meaningless romance of all time as the writers ignore the same story they’ve created.

Another point I’ve been seeing a lot from these people is “Mike won’t come out. Let it go. He’s just a very unlikable character” What does that say about the quality of the writing and content you’re willing to consume then? You’re okay with characters being poorly written? And please someone explain to me how Mike’s actions, especially in S4, make any sense unless he likes Will.

The more people try to simplify this story the more plot holes and inconsistencies it creates.

The funny thing is that a lot of these “Will stans” used to be Bylers themselves but are so deathly afraid it won’t be endgame that they’ve started to use the same rhetoric mlvns use every day to justify what would be atrocious writing.

And this next thing might be controversial but I think it needs to be said.

So many people on Twitter have hit those who disagree with Millie’s opinion today with “y’all are misinterpreting Millie’s words” and let me tell you, no one has. She’s been saying the same stuff for forever and quite frankly she’s never had a coherent thought about Will. Which is fine, at the end of the day that’s not the character she plays. However, I haven’t forgotten how last year (at another panel) she was asked about Byler and said it was just a reflection of Finn and Noah’s friendship and that was what people were seeing…

Whatever the fuck that means, I guess.

Again, I’m not taking her answer today too seriously cause truth be told she’s been saying some version of this since she was around twelve, and has even at times said she was joking about it. If a wedding were actually happening she wouldn’t be able to say it cause I’d literally be a spoiler, even if she doesn’t have the scripts yet or doesn’t know I’m sure there’s things that would be off limits for any actor to say at this point.

But this defense squad that formed today begging for us to not misconstrue her words because “she really cares about Will’s character” is laughable.

Her answers regarding the topic of the love triangle have been anything but nuanced. If she doesn’t want to get into it or address it, that’s fine. It’s her choice.

But of course, mlvn stans are gonna take her answers seriously, as well as those who are now “Will stans” who basically ship mlvn too.

And to me there’s a fundamental flaw regarding the ship wars in this fandom, which these people don’t seem to grasp. At this point, it isn’t so much about “which ship is better” but “which outcome isn’t violently homophobic”

That’s it.

I don’t care how much you ship mlvn, this is the undisputed truth here.

But when your lead actors act like it’s not a big deal, it’s no surprise the fandom doesn’t give a shit.

I can only hope the Duffers were smart enough to see reason and were able to write the only outcome that won’t set television back around 10 years or so.

And hopefully one day, when S5 is out, we can get a more in depth and honest conversation with the actors about all of this.

As for me, I’m gonna lay low and not give much of a fuck until we start getting those Reddit leaks, which were very much accurate for last season. I’ll take a peak at those, and depending on what they look like, I’ll stay around or dip completely.

If you read all of this, thank you.

[fanvoidkeith]

sooooo i may have. spent my day binge watching dungeon meshi and here are my Opinions, having never read the manga ever (very MINOR ANIME SPOILERS ahead! nothing too in-depth but, y'know, for laughs):

laios is my autistic blorbo son boy and i love him and i want him to be happy. go find your sister, dude, but also eat monsters for fun and research reasons. this is the one context where i would say "eat monsters" like... ever

laios is also 1,000 percent a freak for wanting to eat monsters and study them the way he does. absolutely insane man. stop trying to be a martyr, you dumbass, and also stop poisoning yourself. both of these opinions coexist at the same time and i don't know how to feel about it because feelings (and social cues) are difficult

marcille is a lady who is so so SO smart and cool, but has absolutely ZERO street smarts. (babygirl you are JUST like me, except for the whole "being a woman" thing.) she's a "gifted" kid who now has burnout and needs to feel useful or else she feels like a failure constantly kinda girlie. she doesn't want to be abandoned. relatable. i'm concerned at how much i relate to her. stop being so relatable, dammit!!

chilchuck is INCREDIBLY emotionally constipated. lmao. he also has chronic young-forever face, which means he probably gets mistaken for a twelve-to-sixteen-year-old constantly, which... same, dude, same. i've heard (from the manga readers) that he's divorced with several children, but i don't know if that's true. i hope it is. i really want that to be where part of his issues come from. i want more angsty moments with his character. he'll be my new emotional punching bag when i finish all those other unrelated one-shots i'm planning on writing :)

senshi is a sweet man who just wants to feed and protect his new friends. i think food and acts of service are his love languages. he has a really fuckin' strong pot and knife for some reason lmao

i love falin. she's kind of a freak too, but she knows social cues better than her brother from what i can tell. sure hope nothing bad happens to her- oh gods. well, i sure hope nothing ELSE bad happens to her- OH GODS OH FUCK-

uhhhh. i like that the kobolds in this anime are dog-people. i love dogs. dogs are cool. very cute. 12/10 decision honestly

this anime made me so hungry but i still forgot to eat for most of today. rip. the food in dungeon meshi looks goddamn delicious though, so it's fine

sometimes these characters act just like a D&D party would. like. damn. this is just like that ONE TIME in dungeons and dragons when our party did [X action] and then [Y consequences] happened-

oh my goddddddssss there's ECOSYSTEMS IN THE DUNGEONS??? DUDE I LOVE THAT. CRAZY CONCEPT. FUCKING LOVE THAT. ADVENTURERS AND MONSTERS AND CREATURES (and senshi, who is his own category) ARE PART OF AN ECOSYSTEM. I'M CLIMBING UP THE WALLS AND GOING INSANE RN

oooohhhh shit politics. oh shit background politics that our main characters ignored. no wonder they focused on this other party lol

OH SHIT OTHER CHARACTERS FROM THEIR BACKSTORIES RRRRRAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH

oh yeah i guess this is about whoever gets the big treasure at the bottom of the dungeon or whatever if they defeat the Big Bad or something? okay dude. it's only relevant to me when it's relevant to my New Blorbos honestly. but i WILL jot that down though :eyes emoji:

look. i am NOT calling it "delicious in dungeon". i KNOW that's the creator's intended english translation, but personally i think that title sucks. so DUNGEON MESHI it is, for me personally

PLEASE give me the second season right now i need MORE. i'm slurping up this show like soup and i'm fucking HOMGRY!!!

okay that's it that you for comjng to my ted talk

[casualwriters]

"Best friends" | Richie Valdovinos x reader

summary - After the Accident at the Halloween party you find Richie upset at the beach and you comfort him not figuring out he used to have a crush on you growing up as next-store neighbors.

Warning- none

- All the gifs go to the right full owners support them pls 💗

SPOILERS FOR RISE OF PINK LADIES EPISOSE 5

Falling on the ground as the emergency alarm howls in the light, next to you was Hazel and Wally, "Are you okay!" You dropped your arms from covering Hazel, she nodded towards you and Wally. "You okay Y/n," Wally asked you nodding then looking out the window to see fireworks, "fireworks?" You said to the two of them who were watching them with you

"I have to go," you say to the other two trying to find your friends, as you bolted out of the party, everyone was leaving thinking this was the real war coming but it was some stupid prank. Stepping outside you saw Jane and Richie, arguing "What is going on" you whisper running into Richie who already turned around on Jane. His face was sad and disappointed maybe because of Jane, you and Richie grew up together childhood best friend Olivia and him, but all three of you grew out of touch when you hit high school,

the cliches and being a Square or a Greeser you guys grew apart and you regretted that seeing Richie looking at you a smile came across your face "i have a place that cheer you up" saying to him Richie Scoffed "Doll i don't think the Frosty Palace, will cheer me up" he scoffs. Punching his shoulder you glared at him snagging Gill Keys from the tire "not there" you laughed twirling the keys around your index fingers "i show you". The car ride was quiet for the time of driving to the beach not far from you and Richie neighborhood it was a peaceful drive the radio was playing some Blues music that was popular for the time parking the car on the beach you looked at him he was smiling

"Wow doll dame i haven't been here in forever." Chuckling "since all of us were twelve" Both of you remembered the memories " oh man don't forget when i dump both you in the water! " Folding your arms annoyed " Richie Valdovinos! I had water in my ears for a week! " He shrugs " good you couldn't hear Oliva blabbing away" laughing " oh be nice,

"what happened tonight Rich " you asked him. Richie always appreciates you cutting to the chase and being straight up with him, it was one of the things he missed about you.

"Jane only cares about this fucking Election, i am like a dog she calls whenever i am relevant" Listening to him you Knew Jane She was such a sweet girl but throughout the weeks and dealing, with the election she wasn't the same girl!" he kicked the front of the car "and I saw her and Buddy, all cuddling She made a fool out of me Y/n!"

"Rich hey ever she did you don't know her side of it, you can't just jump the gun" Richie knew you were right, you were always right mending fights with him and Olivia, or separating conflict or fights. "I know, I know he looked over to see your hands covering your costume like you were cold he frowned and said.

"Here" he shakes off his T-Bird Jacket and drapes it over your shoulder. "but" he scoffs " No Buts or If's" he says "why did you give this to me wouldn't you rather, give it to Jane." he chuckled "I tried you were my second choice" he grins grabbing his Comb and brushing the strands of hair out of his face. "What do you mean by that?" you said your cheeks were flushing red right now. Richie looked over "it so stupid how clueless you were when we were younger "

"I had a crush on you a y/n" he chuckled putting the comb back in its rightful place. You stayed quiet listening to him talking it wasn't just one sided you thought to yourself.

"but I knew you were too good for me, sweet and caring that's why we stopped talking well, till tonight, what made me happy was even. When we were in a different, clicks or friend group you saw me upset and still wanted to check up on me, doll ." "it what I do" you smile at him "it wasn't one sided" you said to him, causing him to laugh nervously "oh all right" he saw you yawning has he chuckled " want me to drive, you home Princessa" nodding " yes please".

The drive back was laughing and talking just trying to catch up and make Richie's night better, he pulled into your driveway and smiled "See you later alright" You opened the door and got out

"only if you're lucky,"

you say to him he started the car up and drove away hoping, this could happen again.