#The Roses have a lot of cool things about their culture

[anxiousapplepie]

I was thinking... Thanks to this whole 'brown=depressed/ deathbed' , isn't it easier for people to figure out if someone's depressed and get them to a therapist? I'd say yes, but hey you're the one that rules here

Sure, it's easier to figure out if a Rose is depressed because their voice sounds off or their hair is fading to a different color But in a culture that wants you to conform to social trends and to live up expectations and standards, getting someone to believe you need help instead of assuming you should be able to "handle it" and "get over it" mind over matter style is a wee bit difficult The best form of therapy Roses have is something I like to call "Buggering off into the woods and living with the Dragons from now on" and it's very effective XD

[alphajocklover]

The following story was a commission from a reader who would prefer to remain anonymous. They have given me permission to share this story. Quick thank you to them.

Made For This Town

Maxwell Ford was moving.

Specifically, Maxwell Ford was moving to a small town called Maxford.

Max Ford was moving… to Maxford.

It was almost funny, or at least it would have been funny if Maxwell wasn’t absolutely miserable about this entire thing.

Maxwell hated that they were moving again. His family moved quite a bit, his mothers job as a software engineer bringing them all around the country. Usually Maxwell was fine with moving. It was annoying but he was used to it. He was a fairly social guy and made friends easily. This time Maxwell doubted he’d make any friends at all, mainly because Maxwell was basically moving to the middle of nowhere.

When he had first heard they were moving to a town that shared his name he thought it was actually kind of cool. Even when he learned it wasn’t a city he had still been kind of excited. He had lived in cities his entire life, and had actually been curious about what it might be like to live in a small town. Then he had learned about what Maxford was actually like. There wasn’t a lot of information about it on the internet, which was a little strange since everything was on the internet these days, but what he had learned had soured him on the town completely. Maxford was… well it was weirdly normal. There was no other way to put it. The town was weirdly normal. Maxwell knew that a lot of small towns were conservative and focused on athletics, but Maxford seemed to take it to a whole new level. Everyone was conservative and athlete obsessed. Absolutely everyone! It didn’t sound possible, but try as he might Maxwell couldn’t find any semblance of any sort of counter culture. There were no nerds, no goths, no punks and no LGBTQ people of any kind. The only mention of LGBTQ people and Maxford were some quack conspiracy theorists online raving about some kind of reality changing forcefield. Maxwell was convinced that even if he found other nerdy or gay people like him in Maxford, they’d be absolutely crazy. It wasn’t like Maxwell could do anything about it though. He was just 18 and hadn’t finished highschool yet. He didn’t have the means to live on his own. So he resigned himself to spend his senior year surrounded by jocks. Though that didn’t stop him from pouting about it the whole ride there.

“God it’s like there's no cell service out here.” Maxwell groaned from the passenger seat of his family's subaru. Maxwell could hear his dad, Samuel Ford, sigh from the driver's seat, and could tell his dad was rolling his eyes without even looking. Maxwell knew it was all in good fun though. He and his dad actually got along great, which made sense considering they were both very similar. Both were skinny men who appeared younger than they were and had a love for sci-fi and video games. The only real difference was that Samuel was far more mature and less emotional then Maxwell. His emotional maturity and kindness was probably the only reason Samuel was able to get Maxwell’s mother, Rose, to go out with him. Rose was both attractive and ambitious, and Samuel absolutely adored her. She had driven ahead in the family's other car with a bit more of their stuff, so currently the car was just father and son.

“Son, I know you’re not really excited about this move…” Sam said sympathetically, a kind smile on his face “But I swear it won’t be as bad as you think. I know this town is different from the places we’ve lived before, but I know you’ll make friends.” Sam said. Maxwell doubted it, but said nothing and smiled slightly at his fathers attempts to cheer him up as they approached the city limits of Maxford. “You’ll see, son. As soon as we get in there…”

“You’ll be pulling pussy like fucking crazy.” Sam Ford said, a cocky grin on his manly face as he gave his son a knowing smile.

Max Ford puffed his chest slightly with pride as he smirked at his Dad. He wasn’t really worried about getting a new girl to go out with him, since chicks were basically putty in his hands. Why wouldn’t they be? He was a fucking stud. Over 6 feet tall with roaring, beefy muscles. He was so big he already had a place on the Maxford High football team without even having to try out. He had sent some pictures of himself to the football coach and got a starting place on the football team just like that. But Max liked it when his dad complimented him, since he had looked up to the man his entire life, so he pretended to be nervous about finding a girl for homecoming so his dad would try and cheer him up. His dad was fully aware his son was just playing, but studs like them had to build eachother up. As they drove through Maxford, Max thought about the upcoming school year with a cocky grin. He knew being the new kid in senior year might be a little weird, but a guy like him could make friends anywhere. Plus, a guy named Max Ford in a town called Maxford? It was like fate. Max was sure he’d be the king of his highschool in no time.

Sam pulled up at their new house, parking their SUV next to the family pickup. He got out of the car and sauntered over to his wife Rose, who was waiting for them. She had come earlier to get the house set up. Being a stay at home mom, Rose wanted to make sure everything was perfect for her man. Max rolled his eyes as his parents kissed sloppily, almost gagging as his dad groped his Moms ass. Turning away from them, Max saw a busty girl across the street, staring at him with unhidden interest. With a seductive smirk, Max stripped off his shirt, threw it to the floor, and flexed for the bimbo, who he couldn’t hear giggle and blush as he showed off.

Max laughed. A town full of hot girls and cool bros. It was like the town of Maxford was made for him. Or… maybe he was made for the town of Maxford.

**Hope you guys enjoyed another little trip to Maxford! I don’t know how the fact that the random town name I made up would also make a good jock name didn’t occur to me till now, but I’m grateful it did! If you like this, stay tuned for more or maybe even commission me. I already got another commission for a much longer Maxford themed story on the books! See you later!**

[shadamypositivity]

Here are my thoughts on this (warning for long post and my opinions)

Amy was made to be Sonic's female protagonist in the way that Mickey has Minnie, Mario has Peach- but Sonic subverts this expectation because of the nature of his character. Too cool, too fast, too wild to be "tied down" by romance, a hero on a breakneck paced hero's journey- this was also reflective of the culture at the time, so not just some throwaway decision. Reversing this dynamic doesn't actually mean Amy's character will change much, because Amy's definitive character has not been "Sonic's girlfriend" for a long, long time. She's a fangirl, she's obsessive, she's temperamental, she's kind, she's compassionate, she's honest, she's tough, she's optimistic, none of that would or SHOULD change in the case of "Reverse Sonamy". If Sonic is the one swooning and chasing Amy Rose then it's him who has to give up some of his definitive characteristics.

I'm not adverse to reverse sonamy because I don't think Sonic likes Amy -- if I can digress, I actually do think Sonic does have feelings for Amy, but I think Sonic has feelings for a lot of characters, but would never pursue romance for all the reasons I stated with Amy -- I'm adverse because I'm scared for what that means for Amy's character in the movie.

I don't want them to 'tame' Amy or Corporate Girlbossify her. I don't want her rolling her eyes at Sonic's attention or being the Only Smart One, or the straight man in a group of boys. I want Amy to be silly and tough and temperamental and sweet. Like the video's op stated, when people say they want reverse Sonamy I fear what they actually mean is that they want Amy to be toned down.

I saw a tweet not too long ago that slightly relates to this - that hypersexual women are one of the most oppressed people - I'm not classifying Amy has hypersexual BUT she is hyperromantic haha and I feel like relates to the gist of that theory. Is it really a crime that Amy does prioritize romance and love over heroism and adventure at times? Is it actually so terrible that she does have a crush on Sonic and follows him because of how much she admires him? As a girl, I related so much to Amy, not because I specifically crushed on Sonic (I was always a Shadow girl haha) but because I felt a lot how she acted. I was repressed myself, but admired Amy for how open and honest she was about her feelings and how confident she was when it came to Sonic returning her feelings. But she was also super tough and caring, but wore pink and loved girly things, but she also got angry and carried a huge weapon, but she also cooked and baked -- as a little girl who loved video games and action figures and super heros (mind you, this was well in the early 2000s when binary toys and interests were still very much a thing, I was ridiculed and denied in a lot of spaces) but also loved fairies and makeup and pink, Amy was the first girl character that wasn't either just cute and sweet (i.e Peach (who i adore DO NOT MISUNDERSTAND)) or tough and no nonsense but felt like how I felt. Amy had so many different layers to her character, I loved that she was girly and silly and in love but also super tough and strong and didn't seem to have to sacrifice one side for the other.

I ended up waxing poetic about Amy Rose for more than I meant haha, but I wanted to put my feelings out there. Irregardless of what reverse Sonamy means to people, or what anyone ships, I just want them to be true to Amy's character. I don't want them compromising who she's always been just because people find her annoying. JUSTICE FOR ANNOYING GIRLS!!!

[blues-valentine]

The thing is, Paxton was a great first boyfriend for Devi but it was never meant to be. He represents a different Devi, the high school part of her that wanted to fulfill dreams for external validation. Dreams that she has simply outgrow and she can allow herself to admit that now because her dreams have evolved. In another life, one in which Devi didn’t idealize him, maybe they could’ve worked but Devi was not in love with Paxton. She was attracted to a romanticized idea of him. That’s always been the problem with their relationship, the fact she always saw him as a symbolic dream, her rise to popularity — a thing she thought would give her the self love and normalcy she craved. Once she dated him, lost him, got over him, got to do some evolving herself, and was able to date outside of her bubble, her feelings for him weren’t there anymore simply because they were not longer under those rose colored lenses. She was able to recognize what has been there the whole time. Devi wasn’t longing for Paxton. Not in the ways she has longed for Ben, because the Paxton she wanted was someone she made up in her head. And Ben has always been the real deal for her. Her nemesis, her academic rival, her friend, her ex, her boyfriend. Devi, just like Paxton, deserve someone that makes you feel all the emotions, all the stomach knots and that crazy passion.

As Devi said, Paxton was a good boyfriend, but a much better friend to her. I like their closure. I like that they were able to cherish the influence in each other's lives while moving into new things for them. Things that are better suited for what they want from life. Not all relationships are meant to be and that doesn't diminish it.

Then there’s Ben. If anything showed this season is that she loves him irrevocably, with all his good thing and bad qualities too. And Ben despite all his dumbness this season, he loves Devi. There's no one else for him. He could date all the cool girls and Devi would still be the one for him. They’re the type of love Trent described on Season 3. “We rile each other up and then we love each other.” Ben and Devi are soulmates. They fit in a way that they appreciate each other's drive, weirdness and unattractive qualities. Devi is so herself with him and Ben was never a fantasy, he was a very tangible person that has a lot of flaws and a lot of that grow (for her and Ben) had to be individual before coming together. And they'll continue growing together.

The romantic themes of the show have always been very clear. It's about what Devi thinks she needs to be normal vs the things she will realize she wants and fullfills her. She got all of the things she wanted in the pilot, the difference is that pilot Devi asked for those things to satisfy an external filter but she not longer craves that because she has grown. Devi ended the show happy and fulfilled with her life, in her dream school, comfortable with herself, her culture. Devi could've perfectly ended up alone and that would have been totally okay too but Devi loves love and I'm happy she got exactly that.

[homestuckreplay]

Webcomic 'Homestuck' Canceled For Promoting Bad Password Security

(page 456-459)

8/10/2009 Wheel Spin: Parent Bad :( Verdict: INCORRECT

8/11/2009 Wheel Spin: being silly :3c Verdict: CORRECT, but behind at least 10 layers of irony

In the far future, somebody might call this update a time capsule of the 2000s. If computers change significantly, or something. page 456 comments on Dave's bro's computer being password protected, suggesting that this isn't a cultural norm - the newly-released Windows 7 still doesn't require user accounts to have a password. In Homestuck, the password is used to protect 'incredible top secret shit,' so password protecting a personal home computer might be associated with shadier online behavior.

Bro's password is six characters, and is 'the most awesome thing it can be' according to Dave and his bro, so it's probably lilcal. (It could also be puppet, but personally my passwords are always specific characters, song titles etc, not general concepts. I don't know if other people are different. for what it's worth lilcal is also a slightly more secure password than puppet which is A SINGULAR DICTIONARY WORD). Bro also trusts Dave with his password - either because he doesn't think Dave will do anything to mess up his computer, or because he's daring Dave to use it, similar to leaving the Xbox switched on mid-game.

On page 457 we see Bro's desktop, which we can compare to Dave's desktop on page 323. They both have wallpapers from And It Don't Stop, showing us a chain of game recommendations from Bro -> Dave -> John. Dave, like Rose and John, has some character in the names of his desktop folders, while his bro has seven identically named New Folders scattered around the screen. This adds to the sense that Bro is paranoid about people looking at his computer - he's purposefully making it impossible to navigate. The hidden-identity hat and dark glasses iconography on the password entry screen has the same effect.

Bro also has a program called Delirious Biznasty, which has a rad skater dude for its icon. This could be a web browser, but I think it's more likely some kind of torrenting application, I think that'd fit his vibe. The web browsers we know are Typheus, Cetus and Hephaestus, which are all Greek mythological references with cartoon-styled icons, and Delirious Biznasty doesn't fit the pattern. Based on Dave's relationship to his bro, Bro probably uses Hephaestus too and just doesn't have a desktop shortcut.

Dave and his bro both use the Complete Bullshit content aggregator, which we are forced to witness on pages 458 and 459. Content aggregators are pretty common customizable feeds that people use to keep up with a lot of websites at once, when checking 20+ separate sites a day gets too time consuming. RSS readers are a common form of this that can host a lot of different types of content, but there are also aggregators specifically for webcomics. These are controversial - they're generally well intentioned projects made for free by webcomic fans who want to check for updates easily and keep up with a lot of stories, and want to help other fans do the same. However, they can redirect traffic away from actual sites that host webcomics, meaning that independent webcomic artists might miss out on ad revenue or merch sales, or are less likely to sell ads because their sites don't look as well-trafficked as they are. I don't know if Andrew Hussie has a strong opinion on comics aggregators, but it's possible this terrible to use, unstable and unreadable version is a criticism of the concept.

Complete Bullshit also feels like Dave's bro's equivalent of Serious Business, as they're both digital programs with adjective-noun titles. I wonder if Rose's mom will get her own software.

It's sweet that Bro keeps up with Dave's projects, including Sweet Bro & Hella Jeff and his GameBro review blog. It shows that their relationship isn't 100% one sided, Bro cares for Dave and/or thinks he's cool at least a little bit. It's also fun that Dave is checking to see if his own webcomic has updated, which could be bad memory due to having a lot of projects on the go, or could be Dave checking to make sure his update has gone through and posted successfully. Very reasonable, as it must be a challenge to upload such high quality images.

I will probably make a post digging into Sweet Bro & Hella Jeff at some point, but I'm still peeling the onion of its irony right now so I'll just say: when exactly did Dave find the time to make these comics?

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Cater, Ruggie: The Secret in a Smile

Caycay, bestie… I am so sorry that SSR Crowley stole your spotlight 😭 (Is that why Cater looks so Mean Girls in his groovy... He's seeking petty revenge against Crowley/j)

Some cute stuff from the vignettes that I wasn't able to include in this fic: Cater makes a reference to TsumTsums! He mentions being into this mobile game with cute round creatures. Cater also tells a story about a 5-year old girl giving him a flower after his club's performance at a cultural festival (omg, do they mean the one in book 5?!). Ruggie teases him and says Cater must have been that little girl's first crush 😂

A Tale as Old as Time.

“Ne, ne, Ruggie-kun! Check this one out~ It's all the way from the Queendom of Roses!"

Cater jabbed a thumb at a painting of a young blonde girl dressed in a modest sky blue frock and apron, a small black bow in her hair. She couldn’t have been older than 10 years of age, still petite enough to squish inside a glass bottle with a narrow neck. The bottled child was adrift in a sudsy sea, her face frozen in an expression of slight worry.

Ruggie took one look at the artwork, then wrinkled his nose. “Sure sucks to be in her shoes. What’s this even supposed to show us, anyway? Doesn’t make a whole lotta sense to me.”

"Not a lot from the Queendom does if you aren't already familiar with its topsy-turvy stories~" Cater placed a hand on his hip and leaned forward, grinning. "This one is pretty popular! It's about a girl that wants an audience with the Queen of Hearts. She gets lost on the journey there, meets strange people and experiences even stranger things on the way. This is just one leg of that trip!"

"Wouldn’t the castle be further inland? How'd she end up in the middle of the ocean?"

“It’s about the perspective of the shot.” Cater formed a frame with his hands, catching his underclassman in it. He pulled back, creating the illusion of sizing Ruggie down. “She drank this bottled liquid she found and that shrank her down—so really, the ocean isn’t that big.”

A grimace.

“Man, talk about no sense of self preservation. She just chugged an unlabeled bottle without a second thought. Must’ve been real desperate.” Ruggie paused. “Weeeell, not like I’m one to talk about being desperate. You really can’t afford to be picky sometimes. If it fills your stomach, it fills your stomach.”

“You’d drink it too, huh… I don’t think I could do that. I’d at least want to see how the menu describes it before I order—though I guess it also depends on how ‘cammable the drink is! And hey, think about all the cool pics I could grab from a worm's eye point of view!”

"Heh, you don't seem too pressed about living life as an ant."

"Cay-kun likes to look on the bright side of things!" he declared with a wink and a peace sign. "The lost girl... she worried so much about finding her destination, she forgets to stop and smell the roses. She overlooks a lot of the fun people she could have spent time with."

Hopping from place to place, missed people—familiar elements, resurfacing a childhood of being uprooted and dragged about. Never to fully settle.

A tea party here, a brief convo there. Just enough to keep him placated, but not enough to see beyond the surface of the looking glass.

His curiosity still left wanting.

She got into so much trouble, but didn't have any real friends to come and help her.

Sadness tugged at his heartstrings, but Cater's smile didn’t waver.

"... I can’t help but kinda pity the poor thing," he said quietly. Then, brightening in the next moment, "All her issues could've been avoided if she just looked before she leapt and made some connections."

“Yeah, she definitely should’ve played smarter, not harder. Maybe if she kissed up to the locals, they’d have come to her rescue." Ruggie shrugged. "It works for me and Leona-san."

“Right? A smile goes a long way to getting what you want!” Cater poked the corners of his mouth. “You totes get me.”

“Cuz it takes a trickster to know another one on sight.”

"Wow, it sounds so mean when you put it like that. We're not tricksters, we just know how to use our smiles to problem-solve~"

"Giving a word a fresh coat of paint doesn't make it any less shady. At least be honest with yourself," the hyena smirked.

“Eeeh, I’m always honest!”

They shared a laugh—Ruggie, a snicker. Cater, lighter, more bubbly, like a carbonated mystery drink. When the effervescence died down, he cast another glance at the painting.

Too big for her small world of the sea, too small for the big world that loomed beyond it. Trapped within glass walls. Curled into herself in her delicate chambers.

Her perspective and his, one and the same.

Poor thing, poor thing, poor thing.

Cater summoned his strength and bore the full brunt of his smile.

“I’m sure she’ll find what she’s looking for… one day.”

[justinalovee]

𝑩𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Reader x Rhaenyra Targaryen

Word Count: 1246

Warnings: Incest, oral sex

Summary: Y/n Targaryen, wife of Aegon and lover of Rhaenyra, does her best to try to help her husband adjust to life in Dragonstone

A/N: All characters are 18+! minors DNI. Aegon is a good guy in this universe

Your heart hurts.

It hurt to know your husband was in physical and emotional pain.

It hurt to hear him cry.

“Hush now, sweet boy; I’m more than happy to be married to you. Our life might not look like how we imagined it, but I wouldn’t change it or change you for anything in the world.” You say it softly while rubbing circles onto his back, soothing him as if he were a child. “We will be happy here, I promise. It will just take some adjusting.”

You desperately hoped that was true.

Aegon rests his head on your shoulder. You kiss his crown gently before running your fingers through his thick, wavy hair, careful not to touch the sensitive welt on his cheek. When Aegon announced you were moving to Dragonstone, his mother slapped him hard across the face, not only hurting him but humiliating him as well.

Alicent had never hidden her disgust at your unconventional relationship with Rhaenyra. She thought it was disgusting, and when the king declared you, his niece, were to marry his firstborn son, Alicent did everything she could to stop the wedding, but the Queen never got her wish, and your betrothal went ahead.

As the only child of Orys Targaryen, the younger brother of King Viserys and Prince Daemon, you had been doted on your whole life, but unlike Rhaenyra, you didn’t have the pressure of ruling one day hanging over you. Your mother, Dana, died on the birthing bed while bringing you into the world, so you grew up extremely close to your father until he died during the battle of the stepstones. He died while riding dragon back; he’d suffered many blows, but an arrow through his neck killed him instantly. The only things that helped you get through such a loss were Rhaenyra and your dragon Meraxes; that was until Aegon came into your life.

“My love?” He says this, gaining your attention. “You seemed so lost in thought; what were you thinking of?”

“My father. I think he would have liked you; you enjoy a lot of the same things.”

Aegon wipes his nose with the back of his hand, shuffling back slightly so he can look up at you through his swollen eyes. Unconvinced, he asks, “Like what?”

“He enjoyed watching plays, sword fighting, dragon riding, and learning about other cultures.” To most people, Aegon was lazy and uninterested in anything other than drinking, but that wasn’t true. He just preferred to learn about things on his own rather than being taught. You smile at him and say, “And you both love me.”

He kisses your cheek and says, “That I can agree with, although I imagine it’s different types of love.” Aegon’s hand travels to your lower abdomen, drawing soft circles over it with the pad of his fingers. “One day, when the time is right, I’ll put a baby in there, a child that will know nothing but unconditional love.”

—

“Rhaenyra?”

You watched as Rhaenyra silently rose from the chair she sat in, leaving you momentarily confused in a crouching position. Rhaenyra had felt neglected the past few weeks with you spending so much time with Aegon, helping him adjust to life in Dragonstone. This was the first time you’ve had time alone together since arriving. The moment you got her to yourself, you practically latched your mouth to her nipples, making sure to give equal attention to each of her soft breasts, leaving a trail of purple marks scattered behind.

Bending forward across the table, Rhaenyra pulls her gown up to her waist, revealing her bare ass and pussy while her breasts press against the cool wood underneath. You smirk, noticing she had no small cloth on, and you move so you are now behind her. You grip her thighs while waiting to get the heads up to start pleasing her, flicking her silver hair over her shoulder. Rhaenyra gives you a small smile, then nods.

Gently, you scrape your fingers over her cheeks down to her perfect cunny. You spread her pussy lips and plunge your tongue deep inside her, tasting the sweetness of her arousal, your thumb rubbing circles on her clit. Her soft moans of pleasure fill the room while you continue with the same actions as before, occasionally smacking her ass, leaving a faint red mark.

“Oh fuck,” Rhaenyra moans as her legs begin to tremble. “I’m cumming! I’m cumming!”

You continue lapping at her folds, delighted as her fluids cover your mouth and drip down your chin. You shuffle back as Rhaenyra straightens her dress, dropping her gown back into place. Taking your hand, she helps you stand, tasting herself by kissing you on the lips.

“I have missed you, cousin. It's not just us being intimate,” she says, handing you a napkin to wipe your mouth with. “But just us spending time together. We haven’t been dragon riding together in some time.”

“I know,” you say, kissing the back of her hand. “I’m sorry, Nyra; I promise I will make it.”

She smiled and said, “Don’t apologize; you are just looking out for your husband. How is Aegon settling in?”

“He’s… adjusting. He wants to start a family soon.”

“I’m delighted for you. Motherhood is a wonderful thing; the love you experience is unlike any other,” she says brightly. “If there’s anything I can do to help make my brother feel more comfortable, please let me know.”

“Of course, thank you.” You thought it would be a good idea for you and Aegon to do more things together to slowly bring him out of his shell. He attended most family meals but remained silent throughout them. He found it difficult to be around loud children and laughing adults when he was used to small talk or silence.

The flapping of wings outside caught your attention, alerting you that your uncle Daemon had returned. Rhaenyra’s face lit up with excitement. Her relationship with your uncle was special; the love they shared was something out of a storybook, however unconventional it may be. “I will leave you to your greetings and see you tomorrow.”

—

You rest your head on Aegon’s lap while he reads to you in high Valyrian from The Volcanic Doom of Valyria, “flames shot sir eglie se bane bona sesir zaldrizoti zaltan.”

You repeat his words. “Flames shot so high and hot that even dragons burned.”

Aegon places the book down on the sheets beside him, careful not to lose his place. The fingers in his free hand brush your hair behind your ear. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I was just thinking.” You sit up to face him. “Why don’t we do something fun tomorrow? I was thinking we could go see a play during the day then visit the street or will at night if you like.”

Aegon raises his brows, surprised by your suggestion; he seemed to be torn thinking about it. It saddens you how nervous he appeared. “I would like that, but... I don’t want my mother to know we are there.”

“I understand your love.”

“We could wear disguises,” he suggests. “With our silver hair hidden, we’ll blend in.”

“What an excellent idea.”

“So…” A mischievous glint appears in his eyes. “If we go to the street of silk, does that mean I get to fuck you in a brothel?”

Nodding, you pull him in for a kiss. “I want you to fuck me in all the brothels.”

[apheliia]

HYDRANGEAS, CH. 2. — After training for about a year, the Final Selection arrives.

— series synopsis. Hydrangeas, in some cultures, have been known to symbolize apology. The Hashira Tokito [Name] has many things to apologize for, indeed.

— trigger and content warnings. canon-typical violence, blood, death, minor (?) canon character death.

— author's thoughts. hydrangeas is also on ao3!

        Their stay with the Ubuyashiki family was nothing short of pleasant.

        Both Amane and Kagaya had always treated them very kindly whenever they would run into either one of them, and the Kakushi constantly running around the estate would occasionally stop by their room to ensure that they had eaten that day and that they were comfortable (somehow, they felt that Kagaya may have had something to do with the doting nature of the medics, but they didn't want to be presumptuous and ask). The days gradually built up and turned into a week.

        Mid-morning light kissed their heated face, the cool breeze serving as quite the refreshment during the break they were instructed to take. Their chest heaved as they gathered their breath, but there was a little smile that seemed to be permanently affixed to their face, eyes gleaming with youthful joy and determination at what was held between their fingers.

        "Do your brothers like origami?" the soothing voice that, in the past seven days, they had grown quite used to hearing asked. Kagaya's expression was indecipherable as he observed their deft hands fold the paper he provided, though there was something unquestionably positive in his face as he watched. It was never an easy feat to read him, despite his age, and perhaps that was the point; for him to lead the Corps, they did not doubt that he would have to be exceptionally unwavering or enigmatic in both expression and demeanor.

        "Yes," they answered, holding up the little paper airplane they made with pride. It was messily folded, but ultimately, it was more about the sentiment. "Muichiro likes paper airplanes quite a lot. Though, I have to say, he's a lot better than me at making them, but I think it'll make him happy when he gets it with the letter. Even if I'm not that good at it. Hmm... Yuichiro likes paper stars more, I think. He has all the ones I made him in a little box by where he sleeps. He doesn't know I know this, but he fidgets with them when he's upset."

        The boy sitting on the engawa smiled at that.

        "You are a very attentive sibling," he mused, to which their face heated up somewhat; the earnest nature of his compliment didn't catch them off guard, per se, but it was unexpected and sudden. Perhaps the fact that it was coming from him of all people also made it more embarrassing. "It's good that you're maintaining contact with them. It is nothing short of a blessing to have living family while also being a member of the Corps. Many who join do so because their families became victims of the cruelty of demons."

        "Yes, so I've heard. I'm going to do my best to cherish them. I want them to feel loved, even when I'm so far away, and for a reason that they probably can't even understand yet... I never want them to feel abandoned."

        Before Kagaya had the chance to respond—before he had the chance to even think of a response—one of the Kakushi ran up to him, bowing.

        "Good morning, Master! A few Kasugai crows have arrived to receive their Slayers' mission assignments!"

        "Ah, I see. Thank you. You are dismissed."

        The Kakushi shouted a quick, enthusiastic 'Yes, sir!' before leaving to return to their other duties.

        "I am quite sorry, young one," he apologized steadily as he rose to his feet. "We will have to finish this discussion another time."

        "N— no, it's fine! I know you have many things to attend to! I don't mind at all," they immediately insisted, setting the paper airplane off to the side with their unfinished letter that they had started a bit earlier in the day. Carefully, they stood up from their place situated on the stones in the center garden. "Thank you for your time, Master. I will continue training, then, if that is alright with you?"

        "Of course. Go ahead. I believe you have rested quite long enough," he replied, nodding. 

        With that, he turned elegantly and left, disappearing into the estate.

        They turned their attention to the wooden sword sitting neatly against the perimeter of the engawa. It was a comfortable weight in their hands, they thought, as their fingers curled around the handle. A gentle roll of the wrist to ensure their grip was not too tight nor too loose, and they turned to face the garden with a smile.

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

        A burn seared their aching muscles.

        They did not stop, however—they did not so much as falter even in spite of the pain they felt. Breathlessly, they swung the practice sword again. The structures that their upper back was composed of were all exceedingly tense and hot to the touch, evidence of the strain they were putting their young body through.

        A choked breath entered their lungs, and suddenly, the sword was no longer in their hands. 

        The splaying of their fingers across their chest seemed beyond their control. Their knees buckled, the ground underneath them swaying and making it extremely difficult to remain upright. Everything was spinning.

        With a huff, they gingerly sat down; perhaps the decision was wise, for the second they did, a series of violent coughs wracked their body, and they raised their freehand to their lips in an attempt to suppress the unexpected fit. Blood rushed through their ears and their heart pounded ferociously in their chest. The spinning of the world around them seemed to diminish somewhat.

        And finally, when the world completely stopped spinning, when the floor felt solid again, when their coughs subsided, they carefully let their hand fall from their lips...

        "Ew."

        A bit of blood and spit coated their palm; they grimaced, actively restraining themselves from shaking the fluid off of their skin. They didn't want to just... splatter it rudely on Kagaya's property. It felt wrong to even think of doing so, but wiping it off on their clothes seemed gross.

        They huffed, contemplating their next action.

        Just as their heart rate was calming down, it leapt again in surprise when a cloth was gently held out to them by a large hand. Their gaze followed the arm up until they could see its owner's face. Bright, youthful eyes that had yet to truly witness the horrors of the world met purely white ones that somehow carried a sense of wisdom that they could not possibly hope to understand at their young age. He had seen things they had yet to—that much was evidently clear.

        "It is normal to spit up blood if you are not used to exerting yourself to this degree."

        His voice snapped them out of their daze, and they were quick to take the cloth from his hands.

        "Ah... I see. I was almost worried for a moment. Thank you," they said, smiling up at him despite knowing that he probably could not see it. As silly as it would've sounded, had they said it out loud, they hoped he could feel it.

        He nodded, then turned. He was gone before they could so much as think of getting another word out.

        ...Huh. Maybe he just wasn't the social type.

        It was not their business to ask nor was it particularly polite to speculate (though, they could not help but wonder; that, however, could be blamed on innocent, childish curiosity), so with the gratefulness still flickering in their chest, they gently wiped their hand and face before tucking the dirtied cloth away and getting up to continue.

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

        Continue, they most certainly did.

        They continued even when the sun's rays, combined with their exertion, bore down on their body and boiled their skin. They continued even when the evening chill set in, nipping away at the sun's previous harshness on their skin and burrowing into it in the sun's place. They continued even when pinpoint black dots littered their vision...

        ...And they probably would've pushed even harder, had one of the Kakushi not noticed their stumbling and intervened. That person—a woman, they thought, based solely on the feminine tones of her voice through her mask—had insisted that she was only acting upon the Master's orders. 'Lord Tokito, the Master said you should stop now,' she had said to them, gingerly helping them inside and rushing around to gather food and water for them.

        It was now the following morning and, with a clearer mind, they thought she was simply lying through her teeth to get them to stop.

        (Not that they didn't appreciate it, but she didn't have to go through all the trouble; a simple 'I think you should call it a day' would have been more than sufficient for them. If she was worried, they would have been more than happy to stop, since they wished not to trouble anyone with worrying over their wellbeing.)

        Morning sun, as always, kissed their skin in greeting when they had stepped outside with their wooden sword to begin training. The entirety of their upper back was still sore from the day before, but it did not deter them; all it meant, to them, was that they should perhaps focus on refining a different muscle group today. With that thought in mind, they gingerly set the sword off to the side. Their upper body would probably appreciate the break.

        Stamina it was, then. They did think that their lower body—primarily their legs—could use some kind of work, but they weren't quite sure how to go about it other than running. Maybe they would ask for advice later, but for now, this was more than sufficient. They had to work on their stamina, regardless. Running perhaps would not really do much for the muscles themselves, but there was no doubt in their mind that it would improve either their endurance, stamina, or both.

        About an hour into sprinting around the inner courtyard's expanse—sprinting around the entire perimeter of the estate might've been too much for their body as it was in its current state, so they settled for something that they knew they could manage for a longer period of time without feeling winded—a familiar, booming young voice called out for them:

        "[Name]!"

        It wasn't as if they had known him for years, but somehow, they did not even have to turn their head to know who was calling out to them before a little grin broke out on their features.

        "Kyojuro! Good morning!" they called back, raising their head to look in his direction and waving brightly. Since they were friends, they felt it was appropriate to address him so casually; if he didn't feel the same, then he surely would not have done so to them. His presence inexplicably made them feel more joyful. Some of the vibrantly positive energy that practically rolled of his being in waves must have already rubbed off on them, they thought.

        Behind him stood his father, expression and face in general as intense as ever. He said something they could not quite discern to his son, before his sharp, soul-piercing gaze turned back to them. He gave them a firm nod in what they assumed was his way of greeting them. Then, he turned on his heel and disappeared behind one of the estate's many extensive walls. They could only assume he was going to seek out Kagaya—Rengoku Shinjuro was a Hashira, after all, so they would not be surprised if he had important matters to attend to with the boy. He must have brought his son along to visit.

        ...Had Kyojuro asked to come along to see them? The idea made a bit of fond warmth bloom in their chest.

        Snapping out of their thoughts, they focused back onto the present moment.

        ...But it was then that they took notice of the smaller dark-haired boy standing awkwardly beside Kyojuro, as if he wasn't completely comfortable with the situation he was currently in. His heterochromatic gaze was intense, boring into their skull and attentively observing them (and their surroundings, they noted, based on the way his eyes flicked around; he must not have ever seen Kagaya's estate before now) with what they assumed to be paranoid precision. What they found to be his most notable feature, though, were the bandages wrapped securely around the bottom half of his face.

        Was he wounded? Scarred, perhaps? Maybe he was just shy and preferred not to completely show his face. There were an infinite number of possibilities that might explain why his face was covered, but...

        Regardless of the reason for his bandages, they did their best to brush it off and pay it no mind. It was easy for them to recognize that it may very well be a sensitive topic, and therefore was not something they should pry about. Curiosity was never an easy beast to tame, but they nonetheless did their best. No amount of curiosity could justify being so rude as to  speculate, let alone ask. No, it was not their place to do so.

        With slightly trembling legs—an hour was a long time to constantly run without any breaks whatsoever, but it wasn't quite near their limit; it was merely enough to make them feel a bit weak in the lower body area that they had been neglecting to train recently—they walked over to the two, the grin on their face growing into a smaller, more calm smile. 

        One thing they had taken notice of was how fidgety and nervous the boy beside their friend was. Therefore, they did their best to remain calm and steady as to not overwhelm him.

        Kyojuro was quick to squeeze them in an enthusiastic hug. They did their best not to wheeze at the utter strength he was exerting upon their body, patting his back both in a fond greeting and in a desperate attempt to get him to loosen up slightly. He did not seem to catch the hint, though thankfully, he did let go. "How are you? How's training going?"

        "I'm doing well," they replied, still trying to catch their breath after he'd knocked it out of them. "Training's good, too. Though, I'm not really sure what to do to get my stamina up, so I've just been... running. Since I worked on my upper muscles yesterday, I want to focus on something else today. Give them a chance to breathe, you know?"

        "Let's go on a run together!" he suggested brightly, nodding. "I'll put light weights on your legs to help build muscle."

        "Oh. That's... really smart. Huh. Why didn't I think of that?"

        He laughed, the joy on his face thoroughly comparable to the sun's bright warmth. Actually, it was probably even brighter than that. Kyojuro was a sun of his own; there was no need to compare him to another existing one. As he calmed down, his gaze flickered over to the silent boy at his side, and he perked up, as if it had finally occurred to him to introduce the other boy.

        "This"—he motioned to the boy, though mindful to never actually make unexpected contact with him—"is Iguro Obanai! He also wants to become a Demon Slayer!"

        "Oh, right. I was going to ask." They turned to address him directly. "Hi, Iguro. I'm Toktio [Name]. It's nice to meet you."

        They held out their hand as an offer, but he did not take it; they did not so much as flinch, merely letting their arm fall back to their side as they offered him a kind smile instead.

        "...You too," he finally said, nodding curtly. He was not the talkative type, it seemed.

        "Want to come on the run with us?" It seemed natural, effortless even, for them to ask such a thing. His preference towards being quiet had little to no impact on the way they treated him; though it did not show on his face, he was extremely grateful for that much. "Maybe if you come, Kyojuro won't be mean to me and put weights on my legs," they joked.

        "Haha!" the boy in question laughed again. "I'm still putting those weights on you."

        "Aw..."

        Obanai watched as they bantered with him, silently, weighing his options in his head. Something indecipherable flickered across his expression, but it was snuffed out as fast as it had shown itself. Bewilderment, discomfort, appreciation... it was hard to know what exactly he had felt in that moment, but it could not have been anything overwhelmingly bad, since the response that he gave made them beam:

        "...Sure."

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

        Days were quick to become months.

        Kyojuro and Obanai would return to the Master's estate (with his permission and the guidance of many different Kakushi to keep the location a secret, of course) one or two times a week without fail to go on runs with them; it became something that could only be called a routine. Initially, the frequency of their friends'—were they friends with Obanai? They liked to think so; he seemed to slowly grow a bit warmer towards them the more he interacted with them—visits were much higher. It didn't particularly surprise them that the visits eventually dropped down to one or two weekly. It was difficult and time consuming to train.

        (Vaguely, they were reminded of how their visits to their home had dropped equally as significantly—they managed to go once every two weeks, if they were lucky. Usually, they were not, and their visits most commonly happened once every three weeks. The frequency of said visits would probably only continue to drop.

        ...They tried not to linger on it.)

        Around six months had passed since their arrival at the Ubuyashiki estate. They hadn't been counting particularly closely, too occupied by their training to pay it much mind.

        Crisp morning air enveloped their senses as they breathed out a gentle sigh. The sun had yet to rise, but they were already outside going about their preparations for the daily training they were committed to. The garden's stones dug into their knees, but they remained unbothered by it as they stretched their arm out and hooked their other arm's elbow around it, tugging their arm towards the opposite shoulder until their bones popped satisfyingly. The same treatment was given to their other arm.

        Just as they were about to get up, their ears picked up the sound of unfamiliar footsteps. It was easy to know who was walking and when—Kagaya's steps were light and tentative, while Amane's were also light but far more steady, and any one of the Kakushi's typically just sounded frantic and rapid as they dashed across the estate to attend to their duties. These steps were heavy , though nonetheless surprisingly quiet, as if the person they belonged to felt compelled to sneak around the estate instead of outright making their presence known. Subsequently, they turned their head back, curious about who else besides Kagaya, Amane, and some Kakushi was up and at the estate this early.

        A vaguely familiar hulking figure of a man, very clearly in his youth despite how utterly muscular he was, stood just beyond the sliding doors leading into the estate. Their expression rapidly shifted from brief surprise back to its usual look.

        "Hello," they greeted softly, offering him a smile, despite knowing that he most likely could not see it. They hoped that he felt it, at the very least. His reluctance to coexist in the same space as them did not go unnoticed, so they did their best to make him a little bit more comfortable. "I don't believe we've ever properly met."

        His greeting came slowly, hesitantly , even, as he seemed to scrutinize them despite being unable to really see them. Maybe he was looking for some kind of ill intent. Whatever it was that he was seeking, he did not seem to find it. "...Good morning," he replied. "No, we have not."

        "My name is Toktio [Name], Demon Slayer in training." They now fully turned to face him. "What's your name?"

        "Himejima Gyomei."

        "It's nice to meet you, then, Mr. Himejima." They then took note of his uniform. "Are you a Demon Slayer?"

        His tense demeanor seemed to ease up ever so slightly, and it was then that he stepped out onto the engawa, not quite approaching them but not quite avoiding them any longer either. He tucked his legs underneath his body as he sat down nearer to the edge and nodded. "Yes. Pay me no mind, I am merely enjoying the morning air."

        "Of course," they replied as they stood up, stretching their body further and humming at the sound of pops and cracks. With that, they set off, running laps around the garden. Running around the entire state was... perhaps within their abilities, but its expanse was great, and they still needed to warm up before they put their body through that kind of strain. To immediately begin with something so intense would be to injure their muscles. That was something they wanted to avoid, if at all possible.

        Thirty minutes into their laps (during which they were fairly certain Gyomei was watching them, but they did not mind) and they had lost count of how many they'd run. A huff slipped past their lips as they came to a stop, a few stones being flicked forwards due to the force with which they stopped. Their chest rose and fell with labored breaths, and they cursed themselves for having what they felt was poor stamina.

        It wasn't terribly poor, but they had been stuck at this level for about two months, and the lack of improvement was slowly driving them mad.

        Gyomei's voice cut through the morning ambiance.

        "Do you know Total Concentration Breathing?" the man spoke up, seeming to analyze their hunched-over figure as they caught their breath. Finally, once they did, they straightened up and replied:

        "No. I think I've heard of it... maybe..? I'm not too certain, to be honest," they admitted, chuckling, embarrassment evident in their tone. "I've read many of the books about breathing and breath styles, but I don't really remember a lot of it."

        The man nodded. For a moment, he was still. It was almost as if he were contemplating his next move. Then, he gingerly patted the space next to him, a wordless invitation extended their way. They were quick to climb up onto the engawa and sit next to him, though they did leave a bit of space between his body and theirs. He seemed to be rather kind but nonetheless very hesitant to trust them, so they wanted to ensure that they did not make him uncomfortable by overstepping any silent boundaries.

        A large hand hovered over their back.

        "Breathe deeply. Expand your lungs to the fullest extent that your body will allow." He paused. "...Further than that, in fact."

        "Further..?"

        "Further."

        Though hesitant, they earnestly doubted that his intentions were anything other than to help. Therefore, despite the nervousness that such a new (and painful sounding) concept instilled in them, they inhaled.

        And inhaled.

        And inhaled .

        The tightness in their chest almost deterred them, but Gyomei seemed to believe in their abilities despite not knowing them very well, so they felt that they should too. If nothing else, then they should at least try to.

        "Good. Release that breath slowly."

        Of course, that fact did not make it any less uncomfortable, so they were more than grateful to be permitted to let the breath out.

        He drew his hand away, allowing it to settle back into its previous position in his lap. "How did that feel?"

        An ache resounded through their chest cavity, and they grimaced, reaching up to rub at their breastbone through their clothes. "Achy. Overall, not terrible, but it makes my chest sore."

        "It should, and it will until you grow used to maintaining that state. Maintaining Total Concentration Breathing constantly, in and out of battle, in wakefulness and rest, is an advanced technique that will benefit you for years to come if you are able to master it."

        Eyes wide with awe at their newfound knowledge, they nodded. "I see..."

        "Go," he said, motioning to the practice sword they had left strewn off to the side. "Learn to put this skill into practice, young one."

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

        About another hour passed.

        They were fairly sure that their lungs were about to explode and that their heart was climbing up their throat to leak out of their ears. The only sound ringing in their head was that of their racing heartbeat, and every breath they took was fire, searing the insides of their lungs and spreading to burn the entirety of their chest with its ferocity. 

        Gyomei had been kind enough to offer to train with them, and they knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was not using even a small portion of the strength that he was capable of exerting. It was easy to tell how much stronger he was compared to them. If his muscular build was already not enough of a clue, then the fact that he was easily able to cast a shadow over their entire body and then some would surely be an adequate indicator. He was larger and stronger than they would ever be. 

        Even so, he did not put out even a fraction of his strength, and that was something they were immensely thankful for. He must have been very aware of what he could do to another person, they thought, and yet... they did not feel threatened, not had he even hurt them in any way (not counting the radiating soreness of their muscles from parrying his strikes). It was admirable. If they ever grew to have even a quarter of his strength, they hoped they would also be that aware of what they were capable of.

        What an absolutely awe-inspiring man to train with.

        A gasp was torn from their throat, and their body folded forwards, one hand clasping itself over their mouth and the other one clutching their side. Their eyes squeezed shut as they coughed, choking up enough blood for it to spill from the slightest of cracks between their fingers.

        The man towering over them paused momentarily, but then placed a tentative hand on their back, soothingly rubbing away at the ache he knew for certain that they must have been feeling.

        It was not the first time they had spit up blood—it was one among many, in fact, but admittedly they did produce more than usual this time around.

        "It is normal to spit up blood when learning this technique for the first time," he murmured to them, seeming to tear up at their pain. "Do you feel otherwise unwell?"

        "No..." they huffed, slowly standing up straight as to not agitate their body any more than they already had. He passed them a cloth, just as he had done that time six months ago. They were quick to clean off their hand and face using it. "Thank you. No, I feel okay." Then, their eyes glimmering with hope and determination shifted up towards him. "Can we keep going?"

        For the first time, Gyomei smiled at them. It was soft and befitting of the type of person they believed him to be, but seeing it still astounded them in the best of ways, and they could not help but grin widely in return.

        "As long as you are feeling well, we may."

        If either party were aware of Kagaya's affectionate gaze, originating from an opening in the sliding doors just wide enough for him to sit comfortably and observe, neither paid any mind to it.

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

        For the next few months, Gyomei loyally continued to train with them, guiding their every movement and assisting them in growing stronger. Subsequently, he also began to train them harder as he found himself needing to put more force behind blocking their attacks and landing some of his own. It was a source of great pride in his mind—a young one such as themselves growing strong enough (though ultimately still as weak as a tiny kitten in comparison to him) to where he could feel the impact of their strikes?

        Yes, Himejima Gyomei was extremely proud of their growth.

        Still, he was as conscientious as ever, and he never wounded them too terribly. The worst he had ever given them was a large bruise on their side that bloomed on their skin the day after he had hit them; he had wept that day, guilt-ridden when he discovered it, though they had insisted that it was alright. His sensitivity was something they quite adored, though they sincerely wished he would not drown himself in guilt over something like that. 'It's only natural to get hurt while training,’ they had insisted. 'I'm not mad at you, and I'm not hurt that bad. If anything, I'm glad, because all it means is that you're taking me more seriously now! And anyway, it's kind of my fault... I hesitated. You told me not to, and I got hurt. That's on me... Next time I won't make that mistake!'

        In that time, they had also worked extremely rigorously on learning the forms of Mist Breathing. Kagaya still had little news in regards to Sun Breathing, so instead, he often spent time correcting their stances based on what he had seen others do in the past.

        'Utilize your entire body. If your goal is to defend yourself from projectiles, then you must be able to slash a large area and do so with great strength. This is only possible by using every part of yourself—not merely your arms alone.'

        'Don't be afraid to lower your body as far as possible, young one. You will not fall, and if you do, then you must learn not to. Balance, I have observed, is greatly important in learning Mist Breathing. You must maintain great control over your body at all times.'

         'Learn to move swiftly and change directions equally so. I'm fairly certain that no amount of training will prepare you for the moment you must do so in battle while also delivering continuous slashes, but it does help.'

        The kindness of all those around them was oftentimes overwhelming, though not in a negative manner. It simply made them so, so deeply grateful that the people of the Corps were so earnestly good. It made them all the more dedicated to the cause, the goal of the Demon Slayer Corps.

        The months passed rapidly. With how hard they were working, it was no surprise.

        The Final Selection seemed so far away at one point, but the morning they needed to leave for it had finally arrived.

        The Ubuyashiki estate was considerably active, even in the early morning. It was unsurprising; it did function as the headquarters of the Demon Slayer Corps. So long as demon activity failed to cease, so too would the operations taking place within the estate they had grown so familiar with.

        Getting ready on that morning in particular was nerve-wracking. Their fingers trembled as they secured their clothes around their body and grabbed their shoes to bring with them outside. Anxiety and anticipation mingled together in their chest, despite breathing so deeply all the time. Deep breathing was said to be useful in calming oneself down, but now, it did naught to soothe their nerves.

        They supposed that was fair. What they were preparing to walk into was no normal event—it was life or death, the ultimate triumph or ultimate failure. There was no margin for error. As such, they did believe that their fear was valid.

        As they delicately traversed the halls, seeking to not disturb anyone else who may have been resting, many Kakushi wished them well, and all they could muster was a nervous smile in response each time.

        'You'll do great.'

        'Good luck, kid!'

         'Come back to us alive, yeah?'

        Once they quietly stepped out of the estate and onto the engawa, gingerly closing the sliding doors behind them with their one freehand, they were greeted by Amane, Kagaya, and Gyomei.

        Gyomei was the first to speak. His eyes shone in the dim morning light with the gloss of tears yet to be shed. "I will pray for your safety," he had said, large hand situating itself firmly on their head for a moment before withdrawing. They smiled up at him.

        "Thank you for everything you have done for me thus far."

        It was at that point that the tears finally fell. They reached up, placing a gentle hand on his arm as a momentary expression of comfort. After a few seconds, they pulled away, turning to Amane and Kagaya. 

        In the Master's hands was a nichirin blade.

        "You may borrow this blade until you receive yours," he said, holding it out to them. With what was probably excessive caution, they took it, gazing at him with awe in their eyes. They knew he was going to give them one; he'd told them in advance and even provided a sheath for it, but somehow they still believed that nothing could have prepared them for the moment they had it in their hands. He smiled kindly. "Come back safely, [Name]. We believe in you."

        Newfound determination bubbled in their chest. "I will," they replied, sheathing the blade.

        Amane's demeanor, though professional and smooth as ever, was warmly fond, as was the smile she directed at them. "Good luck, young one," she began. "I am sure that you will make us all proud. I will see you at Mount Fujikasane."

        That surprised them more than anything else, really, and they're sure it showed in their expression, because she immediately went on to explain.

        "I will be initiating this Final Selection. You will see me at the beginning and end."

        "I see," they replied. "Well... I'll be off, then!"

        With that, they stepped off of the engawa, waving at those behind them with a bright smile. Finally, they put their shoes on.

        Then, as they had said, they were off.

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

        For the location of the final selection, Mount Fujikasane was astoundingly beautiful.

        Wisteria trees went up the mountain as far as they could see from the angle they were at, the purple flowers seeming to glimmer bathed in the moon's gentle light. The stone steps leading up to where they assumed they were meant to head were in considerably mixed condition; some appeared to be stunningly pristine, as if they had only just been laid down, while others looked as if they would crumble at the slightest weight placed upon them.

        Petals tickled their cheeks as they made their way upwards in something of a daze, overwhelmed by the intensely strong scent filling their lungs to the brim (it was hardly any wonder demons did not dare cross the threshold of the flowers; they knew it was deeper than simply disliking the scent, but honestly, they're fairly certain that they would not tread through a path so heavily draped in wisteria either, since the smell could be immensely overpowering). The feather-light touch was soft and soothing, almost comparable to the touch of a loving parent caressing their child's face.

        Bumping into someone's back was what snapped them out of the dazed state they were in. A surprised squeak was drawn from their throat, and they immediately stepped back to put appropriate space between themselves and whoever they had run into. 

        "I'm so sorry," they apologized, a tentative smile gracing their features as he turned to face them, peach-colored hair swaying somewhat as he did. It was then that the massive scar running along his right cheek came into their view, and they stumbled briefly, before recovering from their shock as fast as they could manage. "I wasn't paying as much attention as I should have been.

        It was a young boy, presumably around their age, that they had run into. His pale lavender eyes seemed to burn with determination, only being illuminated even further by the glow of the surrounding wisteria. Situated on the side of his face was a fox mask. At his side stood a boy with a far more timid demeanor with deep blue eyes, vaguely reminiscent of the ocean, and black hair tied back into a short ponytail. The former studied them for a quick moment, before grinning. "Don't worry about it," he said, offering a hand for them to shake. They gladly took his offer. "I'm Sabito. This is Tomioka Giyu."

        "It's nice to meet you two, Sabito, Giyu," they greeted kindly, smile now growing more certain and confident. "My name is Tokito [Name]."

        Upon completing their ascension up the stairs, all of their confidence dissipated in an instant. Sabito did not neglect to notice.

        "Nervous?" he wondered.

        "A little," they admitted with a shaky laugh. "I mean, who wouldn't be? This is pretty huge. It's the kind of event that determines your future. I feel like it's only reasonable to be a bit afraid."

        Sabito nodded.

        "Yeah. It's an understandable reaction. Keep your head up; I don't doubt that we'll all be fine."

        "You're right. Suppose being nervous won't do much other than hinder me, right?"

        "Exactly."

        Nervousness somewhat—though not entirely—sated, they nodded. Before they got the chance to reply again, to continue the conversation they were having with Sabito, they took notice of Amane stepping into view of the crowd of around twenty Demon Slayers to-be. Her eyes seemed to thoroughly scan the crowd; it was as if she was searching for someone. When her gaze finally landed on them, her lips pulled upwards into the vague ghost of a smile, and they could not help but return it—simply with a far more blatant grin and wave.

        Giyu glanced towards them. For the first time since they had met him and his friend, he spoke to them: "Do you know her?" he wondered softly, as to not speak over her, should she begin to talk.

        "Yes," they confirmed. "She is Lady Ubuyashiki Amane, the Master's wife. She and her husband are both really nice people."

        Sabito immediately turned to look at them. "You know the Master?"

        "I live with him, for now."

         "What?!"

        Their smile suddenly became shier, though that did not stop them from giggling a little bit. A twinge of embarrassment was more than clear in their voice, but it was largely overwhelmed by amusement. "It's only a temporary thing..."

        "I've only heard legends about that guy. It's apparently rare that people get to see him," the peach-haired boy mused, "and you live with him?"

        "For now."

        Before either boy could say something—Giyu looked as if he was going to, but they couldn't be sure, since he did not have the chance to—Amane began to speak.

        "Good evening, everyone," she greeted, the gentle tones of her voice seeming to be carried across the crowd by little more than the wind. A hush fell over the crowd, chatter dying down into nothing more than a few whispers here and there. "Thank you for finding the time to attend the Final Selection tonight. On this mountain, there are many demons, who were all captured alive by our most talented Demon Slayer swordsmen. These demons are unable to leave."

        She gracefully motioned to the many wisteria trees.

        "This is because wisteria, which demons hate so much, blooms year-round from the foot of the mountain to approximately halfway up. From this point upwards, there is no longer any wisteria. In order to pass the Final Selection, you will need to survive for seven days."

        She then turned somewhat, motioning to either side of the platform she was on before her hands settled back, neatly tucked at the front of her body. "Now, be on your way. Good luck."

        There was widespread hesitance among the crowd. Some seemed to be reconsidering their choices. Others simply seemed understandably frightened, though did not look as if they were about to flee back to their home. Still, they eventually began to filter through either entrance and disperse.

        Before they could follow along, Sabito turned to them, holding out a hand. "Let's stick together, Tokito."

        They grinned, giving his hand a firm shake. "I should hope you aren't saying that just because I live with the Master," they teased. "I don't think you get special privileges for knowing me, since I don't get that treatment either."

        He laughed.

        "Hardly. I was just surprised; I don't particularly care. What I do care about is surviving, and we're all far more likely to if we tackle this event as a group." He stopped speaking, but then added on, "Good that the Master doesn't treat you any differently though. It tells me a lot about him as a person."

        "Well, I do hope it tells you good things. Anyways, you're certainly right about that," they agreed, attention shifting to Giyu. "Do you mind me coming along with you guys?"

        He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but then paused for a brief moment, as if thinking. Then, he shook his head, offering them the slightest of smiles. "That's fine by me."

        Sabito nodded firmly, determination seeming to emanate from his being. "Right. Then, let's get going."

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

        "What breathing styles do you guys use?"

        Hushed, quiet chatter was surprisingly common among the little group that they had found themselves a part of; they imagined that Sabito would be far more stringent about staying focused, that he'd think it impossible to converse so casually while also remaining completely alert, but they turned out to be quite wrong. He was actually quite willing to engage, quite the talker if given the opportunity to be so.

        Therefore, they did not feel nervous or awkward asking a question of their own.

        "Water breathing," Giyu answered just as quietly as they had asked.

        "Oh, that's cool," they mused, grip firm around the handle of their sheathed blade, ready to unsheathe it at a moment's notice. "You know, I was thinking about learning Water Breathing, since I genuinely didn't know what style I should pursue. The Master said there was even an active trainer for it."

        "Yeah, that's Mr. Urokodaki," Sabito said. "Apparently he was a Hashira before! I think he retired a while ago. Anyway, we both use Water Breathing, and we learned it from him."

        "Maybe I would have met you two before if I had decided to learn that style, huh?"

        The lavender-eyed boy nodded. "It's definitely not unlikely," he agreed. "What style did you end up learning, then?"

        Just as they opened their mouth to respond, the snap of a twig resounded through the relative silence, alerting all three of them without fail. It seemed to come from behind. With practiced speed and precision, their blade was unsheathed in an instant. Sabito and Giyu both followed suit on what seemed to be mostly instinct. The group turned to face whatever it was that had been trailing behind for—presumably—quite some time now.

        In their chest, their heart seemed to pound sporadically as their mind tried to figure out whether to be terrified or excited . They lowered their body close to the ground in preparation to deliver what was to come to the foul thing before them, adjusting their footing when they felt even a little bit unbalanced.

        It was as Kagaya had told them, indeed.

        The demon paid them no mind. A fatal, irreversible mistake on its behalf.

        "Aw, man," a hoarse voice drawled, sounding thoroughly disgruntled over its mistake. Unnaturally slender, lengthy limbs seemed to drag on the floor as it moved. Sharp nails reached up to scratch its cheek. "Shoulda been paying more attention... Oh well, I'll be eating well tonight anywa—"

        Mist Breathing, Fourth Form: Shifting Flow Slash.

        Its head rolled off in an instant, leaving it with no chance to finish whatever it was going to say. Pride swelled in their chest as they stood straight once more, sheathing their blade as they did. There was no suppressing the giddy smile on their face as they turned back to their companions.

        Behind them, the demon—astounded by its easy defeat and dreading its rapidly approaching arrival to Hell—dissipated into nothing but ash to be blown away by the nighttime breeze.

        "Mist Breathing," they answered Sabito's question cheekily, as if they did not just produce a great show of strength. "I taught it to myself."

        Both boys turned to one another, making eye contact, as if to ask one another 'What just happened?'

        Then, Sabito turned to them, positively grinning .

        "That was so impressive. You didn't even hesitate . I barely saw you move."

        "I was taught not to," they giggled, suddenly feeling extremely sheepish. "Hesitating gives your enemy a chance to hurt or even kill you. No hesitating—I learned that the hard way. And I was taught by someone so much stronger than me, probably stronger than I'll ever be, so if I couldn't reflect his strength at least a little bit, I would be ashamed..."

        Neither boy could get another word out before the distant cry for help from another Slayer to-be reached their group's ears.

        In an instant, they all took off running in the direction of the call.

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

        Sabito, as an individual, turned out to be quite similar to themselves.

        He was a boy with a great sense of justice, always seeking to send as many demons to the afterlife as he could manage, always seeking to protect as many of his fellow Demon Slayer trainees. Giyu was also more than happy to follow along, though they did not fail to notice how nervous he seemed to be regarding how willing his friend was to fling himself into danger. He nonetheless seemed to care just as much about the safety of others as his friend did—he merely expressed more caution.

        It was understandable, really. The only real way to "fail" the Final Selection would be to die .

        Giyu, no doubt, would not want to see such a fate befall his friend. They therefore felt that it was only right for them to back Sabito and Giyu up as closely as possible and cover their blind spots with only the utmost effort.

        After all, they also weren't especially keen on seeing either of their new friends die. It was in their nature to help people—it always had been. It was just how they were raised.

        Given that fact, it was hardly any surprise that most of their time with the two ended up being spent rescuing others during the nights and sleeping in shifts during the day.

        (There were more than sufficient trees to create lines of shade for demons to stalk safely through during the day, so sleeping two at a time with one serving as a guard was the most effective way to ensure that no-one got hurt. There were quite a few instances of other sleeping Slayers being attacked during the day due to such methods, which made theirs and their friends' sleep rather... poor. None complained, however. Saving a life was worth being a bit sleep deprived.)

        Spending so much time in their company also allowed them to learn a bit more about the duo.

        Giyu was quite the quiet child—always following along, silently focused, though Sabito had told them that he was just shy, really. He was far more joyfully expressive in Sabito's sole presence, though he did seem to be gradually warming up to them and their presence. They probably just made him a bit nervous, being a stranger and all.

        Sabito, on the other hand, was far more bold and confident in his ways. He was quite the stern one when it came to slaying demons and staying alert. He did not seem to take cowardice lightly. They vaguely wondered if Yuichiro would grow up to be something like him; that boy was terribly stern when he wanted to be for a child his age.

        (Somehow, they hoped that Yuichiro would grow up to be a bit more lenient, because they felt that if he did not, they would be in trouble once he was old enough to properly stand up to them...)

        The moon was slowly but surely approaching the horizon, making way for the sun to rise once again and mark their final day on the mountain. Sabito's attentive nature meant that, if they were not saving another person from demons, they were patrolling the circumference of the mountain as thoroughly as possible. He could perhaps even be called restless; they did not particularly mind, however, and Giyu seemed to be very used to it, so they assumed that such behaviors were normal for him.

        "It's almost the seventh day, right?" they mused aloud, peering up at the star-riddled sky swirling with various shades of blue, all gradually growing lighter near the east horizon from which the sun would rise.

        "That's right," Sabito confirmed. "We get to leave tomorrow morning."

        "Then... once the Final Selection is over, would you two like to keep in touch?"

        Giyu seemed to perk up at that, and—surprisingly—was the first to reply. "I would like that."

        The other boy nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely. Maybe we'll get assigned missions together in the future?"

        "I'm glad, the—"

        A shrill scream cut them off, and all of the group's blades were unsheathed in the blink of an eye. Sabito ran off in the direction it originated from first with them and Giyu following close behind.

        "A large demon!" a boy shrieked, his feet pounding desperately against the dirt and grass as he fled. He looked down, almost seeming to curse his body for being unable to run any more swiftly, before turning his head back towards whatever was chasing him. Wide eyes dilated with fear only seemed to widen impossibly more as he whipped his head back forward and focused on fleeing. "No-one told us there would be one this big here! What the hell?!"

        A green, vaguely circular amalgamation of hands with a head poking out from what must have been the top chased slowly after the boy, though its utter size made it easy for it to keep up its pursuit. A large body like its own could cover significant ground with one or two steps—significantly more than what a small, inexperienced Demon Slayer in training could.

        Hands shot out to grab the poor boy. Just as one wrapped around his leg, Giyu tried to react, dashing forward and—

        He was flicked away in an instant like nothing more than an annoying fly, his body slamming violently against a tree, though the demon did release the boy from its grip when its attention had briefly shifted. 

        The boy then continued to run, and the demon continued to pursue.

        "Sabito!" they called out, rushing over to Giyu's side to support the trembling boy, quickly putting their blade back away. Blood dripped down from his hairline, and they panicked. "He's bleeding! He has a head injury!"

        Lavender eyes stared motionlessly for a moment. Then, his expression hardened, as did his grip on his blade. "Get him out of here!" he yelled, turning to run in the direction the demon went. "Go!"

        "I can't—" they gasped as Giyu pulled forward somewhat, reaching out towards his friend desperately. However, they were far stronger than he was (a pang of fear rippled through their chest as that reality settled in— they were stronger than Giyu, and probably Sabito, too) , and they gripped his injured body tightly, unwilling to let him stumble into danger. "No, we can't leave you!"

        "Get the hell out of here!"

        "N— no—" Giyu gasped, barely conscious or coherent.

        In that moment, it became blatantly clear to them that they had no other choice. They could not leave Giyu vulnerable and chase after Sabito, but they also knew there was no way possible for Giyu to walk on his own, let alone keep up with them. He needed to rest for the remainder of the Selection, not chase after Sabito with them. 

        ...But they could not do those two things at once, and Sabito entrusted Giyu's safety to them . If they could not chase after him, then at the very least, they could fulfill his wishes. They had to protect Giyu.

        With that thought in mind, they hoisted the boy up, situating him on their back before hooking their arms underneath his thighs and dashing away. His sword was forgotten, left behind exactly where he had dropped it in the grass when he was injured. It was the only remaining thing that indicated that their group had ever been there in the first place.

        As they dashed away, they could only hope Sabito knew what he was doing.

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

        Bright blues, characteristic of the daytime, danced in the sky, mingling in with wispy clouds.

        "Morning already..." they murmured to themselves, peering down at Giyu's unconscious—but alive, thankfully—body. His head rested comfortably in their lap. It was better than leaving him to sleep on the cold, dirty ground, and it didn't bother them at all. Their brothers tended to sleep on them all the time when they were ill, so letting their injured friend do it was almost like second nature.

        The night passed with no sign of Sabito. In fact, they didn't even hear a single sound all night; it had been eerily still and silent. Then, the seventh day arrived, and there was still no sign of him. The seventh night came and passed in the same manner. When the sun rose on the eighth morning—the day they were to descend the mountain—there was still nothing. Throughout it all, Giyu remained unconscious.

        How they wished that wasn't so. They could not help but wonder how he would process the tragedy when he was informed of it. For now, though, he simply continued to sleep through it all, unaware of what was going on around him.

        Right after they had taken him away from the area in which everything happened, they discovered a river and used it to cleanse his wound, though they had nothing to wrap it in. Something was better than nothing, they supposed; at least it was temporarily cleansed of dirt and debris, thereby lowering the risk of infection.

        With a sigh, they stood up, gingerly moving the boy's wounded head from their lap as they did. He did not even stir.

        ...Was that worrying? God, they hoped he was okay.

        "Up you go, Tomioka," they whispered as they hoisted him up onto their back, much like they had done on the sixth night. "Maybe we'll see Sabito down there..?"

        Something deep down inside of them knew better, but they still clung onto the hope that maybe, just maybe , he was alive and simply could not find them and chose to descend on his own.

        Tears of frustration welled in their eyes, but they were quick to blink them away as they began to walk. Grass, leaves, and sticks crunched and cracked underneath their reluctant steps.

        A person with so much strength... someone like them should have been able to do something. How many times had Gyomei praised their strength? How many times had they trained until their arms felt just about ready to fall off, until blood seeped from their lips, until their ears rang loudly? How well-prepared were they for this event? Hell, how likely was it that anyone else knew Total Concentration Breathing: Constant?

        They were undoubtedly the most ready for the Final Selection.

        So much strength and so much preparation—it was very possible that they were the strongest person on the mountain that week, and yet...

        And yet they were helpless to save Sabito.

         'So much for protecting everyone,' they thought bitterly as they finally arrived at the wisteria tree threshold, stepping carefully down the stairs onto the platform at which everyone had begun. 

        Many pairs of eyes stared at them in anticipation, and they stared back, scanning the crowd.

        "Where's Sabito?"

        Everyone was there. Everyone except for Sabito . Many faces in the crowd fell upon seeing that there was no-one else with them.

        "We were hoping he would have been with one of you, but if you two are here, then..." one murmured.

        "Then, that's everyone except for Sabito."

        "Yeah..."

        "I see," they murmured. "...May he rest in peace. Many of us probably wouldn't be here if not for him."

        Murmurs of downcast agreement rolled across the crowd in waves. Sabito's contribution to the exceedingly high turnout was undeniable; that boy, that just and righteous boy, had saved an outstanding number of people throughout the length of the week.

        For that, everyone was grateful.

        Amane's presence alone hushed everyone almost instantly, though it did very little to ease the somber mood of their fellow Demon Slayers. They walked up to her. They knew that they probably should have waited, but Giyu was still injured. How much longer could they wait before his injury turned for the worst? They were not keen on pushing their luck and finding out.

        "Lady Amane," they greeted, bowing at the waist level despite the weight on their back. They huffed as they straightened out their spine. She met their gaze, concern evident—at least, to them—in her eyes. "He has a head injury. He otherwise performed well, so— so I hope this does not mean that he has failed, but..."

        "I understand. You need not explain to me; every member of the Corps will attain injuries at one point or another, but that does not make them any less valuable of a swordsman," she said, softly cutting them off. With a simple wave of her hand, two Kakushi dashed to her side. Where did they even come from? They decided that it was better not to ask, since it wasn't really a priority to know where those two had magically manifested from. She turned to them. "Take this boy to the nearest Wisteria House for immediate medical treatment."

        "Yes, Lady Amane," the two said in unison. Giyu was removed from their back before they could even process what happened. The Kakushi dashed away with him, leaving them standing there dazed and shocked at how utterly fast they moved under Amane's command.

        She nodded to them. They took that as their sign to return to their place among their peers.

        "Congratulations on surviving," she began. "First, I will take your measurements for your uniforms and have your ranks engraved. There are ten ranks in total—Mizunoto, Mizunoe, Kanoto, Kanoe, Tsuchinoto, Tsuchinoe, Hinoto, Hinoe, Kinoto, and Kinoe. You are currently the lowest rank, Mizunoto. Today, you will choose the ore that will be used to forge your blades." She tugged a cloth off of a nearby large table with a graceful flick of the wrist, revealing various ores on top of it. "The blade itself will take anywhere from ten to fifteen days to complete. Now, we will assign you a Kasugai crow."

        Crows circled above, cawing as they all glided or barreled down towards their respective masters. It must have been dependent on the birds' individual personalities, they thought; hopefully theirs did not end up being one of the more... aggressive crows. Theirs, thankfully, was gentle and delicate in its landing on their outstretched arm. It seemed cautious, wishing not to dig its nails into their skin and bring them harm. Purely white wings fluttered as it landed, tucking into its equally snow white body once it had made itself comfortable. Inquisitive, piercing red eyes stared into theirs.

        "You're pretty," they cooed, steadying their voice as much as they possibly could despite the sense of grief weighing on their chest. With their freehand, they reached up, gingerly stroking the calm crow's feathers. "Fuyuki... How do you feel about that name? Is that okay?"

        The crow merely gave a curt nod of approval.

        "Fuyuki it is, then," they murmured, gently ushering the bird to their shoulder. It obliged, resting on their shoulder rather than their arm. Then, Amane began to speak once more:

        "You may now choose your ores."

reblogs with comments or tags > likes. tags: @soleillunne <3

[i-write-boop-spoops]

Professor Sycamore Proposal and Wedding Headcanons

so.... instead of festive headcanons, yall get this!! frick, when did it become february?

features: gn! reader, fluff, mentions of alcohol and cigarettes and very minor reference to sex

not proofread lol

owo what’s this? a classic boopy headcanon??

Sycamore is DIVORCED

So he has a lot of anxiety about marriage

When his last one crumbled, he felt like a failure, even though it was a mutual decision

After that, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to get marrid again

Like, could he really find someone to spend his life with? Was that even possible?

But then he met you

And suddenly, he liked the sound of wedding bells again

You’re together for about two or three years when he feels his ring finger starting to itch

Needing the cool metal of a wedding band to soothe it

Being with you, living with you… it was like the puzzle piece his life was missing

He wants to see that smile of yours for the rest of his life

The proposal HAS to be special

Because you’re special

And you make him feel special

You two have so many special memories together

Luckily, he’s a romantic, so he has an incredible idea

He’s going to take you on a walk down memory lane

Literally

To places that mean the world to the both of you

It starts at your shared apartment of course

You come home from work, to find your beloved wearing a chic suit (the top shirt buttons undone, of course)

He tells you he has a surprise, and that you should put on a nice (but easy to wander in) outfit

It’s not the first time he’s done something like this, so you’re not suspicious of anything just yet

And off you go on your grand adventure!

Having dinner at the restaurant you spent your first anniversary at

Getting dessert at your favourite little café

Laughing about the time you both dropped your ice cream while you stroll through the park

And all sorts of other memories

He’s nervous the whole time, but the excitement wins out

You just look so beautiful, his heart skips a beat every time he glances over at you

He wants to marry you SO BAD!

The walk culminates at the bridge you shared your first kiss at

At this point, you’ve kinda sussed out what his plan is

And boy!

You’ve never been more giddy with excitement

Honestly, if you found out he wasn’t proposing, you’d be disappointed

He takes your hand as you look across the river, the city lights dancing in the water

The speech he gives you is equal parts romantic and heartfelt

Just poetry

You’re trembling the entire time

He gets on one knee

His bones click but ignore that

And presents you with a velvet box

A gorgeous, classic ring inside

He doesn’t even have a chance to finish asking the big question before your arms are around him and you’re shouting “Yes! Yes!”

He’s in disbelief by your reaction

I mean, he knew you’d say yes… but he didn’t expect you to be this enthusiastic

You really do love him, and that makes him feel so happy and blessed

Wedding planning is a bit hectic, since Augustine is very involved BUT also very busy and tired with work

Do you get into silly fights over dumb things like what canapes to serve? Probably

But do you make up like two seconds after? Yes

Your invites are so elegant (art deco perhaps?), and they are rose scented!

In terms of the wedding, it’s gonna be a small but classy affair

Not super traditional, but definitely romantic and stylish

Depending on what point of the timeline it is, he might not even have a best man

Because he’d want it to be Lysandre eek

The ceremony itself would be held in one of the many beautiful, historic buildings in Lumiose

Somewhere full of art and culture and beauty and life

Maybe somewhere like the art gallery? The theatre? The botanical gardens?

Wherever it is, you KNOW Sycamore’s vows will be the most romantic prose

The heartfelt, genuine words that fall from his lips are the stuff of fairytales

It would make the most jilted, stone-hearted person  believe in love again

The whole time, he’s trembling with emotion

His hands are holding yours, his eyes gazing at you with such fondness and admiration

There will be tears

From you, from him, from everyone

Speaking of…

The guest list is STACKED

Despite it only being a few dozen people

It’s like a Pokémon conference crashed into your nupitals

Diantha, Steven Stone, Wallace, Cynthia… a whole host of professors

Your now-husband is well-connected that’s for sure

Expect AMAZING wedding presents

The dress-code is cocktail

Perfect for the cocktail hour

I wouldn’t be surprised if the two of you chose to wear cocktail attire for your ceremony as well as the reception

But you could also stick to more formal/traditional options for the whole event, or switch to your more casual looks after pictures

no matter what option, he WILL find a way to show off a little chest

The reception could be held in a myriad of places

A rooftop in the city, a grand manor in Laverre City, a ballroom in Hotel Richissime

Wherever it’s held, there will be a very Kalosian sounding band playing the whole time

The Champagne will be flowing and plentiful

And there will be SO many flowers

You get those really aesthetic black and white photos taken ah! i love those!

Just saying… your first dance will be so beautiful

Graceful and romantic, you two gliding together as one

It’s Kalos, so you KNOW the meal will be delicious and rich and indulgent

I can totally see the two of you ditching the cake for a round of delicious pastries for everyone

Ones filled with berry curd or cream or chocolate ganache or frangipane

Just exquisite little pockets of joy

At some point, yourself and Augustine slip away to somewhere quiet

A balcony perhaps?

So you two can share a moment together, just the two of you, as pouses

Officially!

And so he can have a quick ciggy

As the evening goes on (and your hubby gets tipsier)

You’re on the dance floor again, but much less gracefully this time

It really devolves from a classy affair to a bunch of drunk friends having a good time

Which honestly? Was exactly how it should end

Well that, and your magical first night together as newlyweds ;)

[doomsdaydicecascader]

wow you’re the first person i’ve seen actually support the retcon, that’s cool

i’ve always been neutral on it but would you be down with explaining your opinions on the retcon?

so my number one feeling is that the way homestuck is most like a game is not in its framing or its many subsystems within itself, but in that homestuck is a challenge to the reader first and foremost. it challenges a lot of existing preconceptions about what stories are, what stories can be.

sometimes this is in some stupid ways, but a lot of the time, it's in very palateable ways. hussie describes stuff like the juxtaposition of the earthbound walksprite panels and hussnasty mode as a "creative power move", something that keeps readers on their toes, something which kind of prods at your expectations and why you have those expectations.

and it helps to ask, what challenge is homestuck presenting to me, the reader, by doing this. this is the repeated motion of homestuck, like. "oh, what, it's insane that there's a whole playable game", "oh, what, it's insane that the fallout and consequences of an entire session of the game is being given in just three walkarounds". rose's arc is a challenge to the idea of a "coming of age" story, how do you come of age into a world where the metrics for growth and maturity and adulthood are denied to you? what if "adulthood" and "maturity" were fake ideas all along? well, if nothing matters, maybe you should have a drink to rest your mind about it.

one of the most direct challenges is the challenge of what death means in a story - there are a lot of stories where death is a bad end for a character. an impactful enough character death can change culture around itself for as long as it remains relevant. but that's not what death is in homestuck. death in homestuck is the freedom from being in homestuck. this is most prevalent with its deployment of gnostic ideas - yaldabaoth's treasure being homestuck itself expresses this most directly. the creator has made a flawed world and encourages the suffering of its inhabitants.

death is freedom from this flawed world, and this is expressed in terezi: remem8er. characters who did terrible things, horrible things, unforgiveable things, can find peace in death.

and i think the retcon is far and away the headiest challenge, the final boss of storytelling in homestuck's terms, because it directly challenges the idea of continuity, which is, by the way, TOTALLY FAKE.

continuity isnt actually real, its a thing youre actively constructing as you read. the drawings, the words, the music, the animation, the gameplay - all these things can help shape the idea of art, but the art itself, that's produced by you, the reader. and i think this is a good time to switch over to talking about the never-ending story for a moment.

the never-ending story is a story about atreyu. he goes on a fantasy quest, one which involves the death of his beloved steed artax, the plight of the world of fantasia, and confrontations with the nothing, this devouring force which threatens to end it. and ultimately, he loses. the forces of the nothing are just too overwhelming for a fictional character to overcome. the stakes are too high, no ending could be satisfactory and not contrived.

but then he doesn't lose.

because the never-ending story, the movie, is about bastian, and the relationship and empathy he builds with atreyu as he follows him on his adventure, and bastian, as the reader, is capable of caring about atreyu and fantasia even as it's been reduced to nothing. and its bastian caring about it, and bringing his own context, his own experiences - the name of his dead mother - to the story, that allows it to be reborn as something that can be completed.

and then he rides on the big luck dragon falkor and barfs on the bullies from the start of the movie.

homestuck is doing the same thing, but filtered through the language of video games. if youre playing ff9 and lose to black waltz #3 or whatever, it's a video game, that's to be expected. just do better next time. you wiped on the trial, it's normal, regroup and pull again. youve got 90 minutes. and in that time, in that regression, you become the kind of person who could overcome that challenge.

and it's a powerful challenge! it's one most readers don't overcome, because they are still stuck in the terms of thinking about things in what they expect out of it, instead of what it is. and this is kind of the core idea of homestuck.

hussie put it the best themself:

Homestuck, as an examination of all forms of creative practice, whether cosmic or artistic, isolates the tension between perfect, celebrated idealization and specific, flawed instantiation. The purity of the ideal is what's initially sought, but the imperfection of the specific is what has true value. Conflict and suffering arise from the guilt and stress associated with overvaluing the former. Deliverance and humanity come from recognizing and embracing the latter.

and honestly, i like what the retcon does for basically all the characters it changes dramatically. people take issue with rose's alcoholism plotline being resolved with vriska_slap.png but i don't really, because rose's alcoholism isn't like, of itself if that makes sense. it's alcoholism as an extension of nihilism, in a way that doesn't reflect real alcoholism, but it doesn't have to. s'a story. things can mean things nonliterally.

and vriska regresses as a character, but i think this specific regression is the core of homestuck. you get the platonic ideal of vriska-ness, one who didn't see and feel the trauma she inflicted on tavros, one who has completely supplanted gamzee's role as the plot-mover guide in the alpha session. and one who only makes token gestures at reparations and atonement for her misdeeds. one who is still obsessed with being at the center. and between 2016 and 2019, i was so certain that she had died a heroic death in act 7 that it is an immovable core plot point of my own comic.

(homework: why would homestuck call act 7 the rapture?)

and like, those pre-retcon characters literally do still exist, they show up in remem8er. remem8er goes unbelievably hard on giving every single dead character in the comic the best catharsis available to them: deliverance from having to be in homestuck. and i mean that entirely sincerely! the best ending for a homestuck character is not being in homestuck. and that's a tough thing for people to get their minds around.

but again, it kind of comes naturally with taking homestuck as it is, and thinking intently about what it's doing, what conventions it's challenging and how it's challenging them. because sometimes it's deeply stupid (decade-plus of thought on the matter has not made the incest any more palateable or understandable)

but sometimes it's the best shit in the whole world

[d34thbyr0ck4ndr0ll]

Different types of goth

I didn’t really feel like going into detail about them all in one post, so I’ve decided to post exclusively about one type randomly through out time. When I first decided to get more into goth (sub?) culture, I didn’t know much, I was an 11 year old who had never seen a goth before, only read about them so everything was based on assumption. Now, years later, I’m back at it, only with more knowledge. Goth is pretty flexible fashion wise, there’s a goth style for everyone, I swear. Here’s some of my favourites (in order, the first four) only doing ten.

1 Trad Goth

Traditional, or trad goth is pretty much what you get if you look up ‘goth’. It’s like the Black Sabbath of goth, the one that started it all.

2 Mall Goth

This is more decorative than trad goth, as in with mall goth, it’s all about layers of chains, spikes, etc. I don’t know what else to say

3 Victorian Goth

Basically Victorian era clothing and literature, with a whole lot of black. I love it so much

4 Hippie Goth

Exactly what it sounds like: hippie and goth. It’s all hippie style clothing, shawls, skirts, Birkenstocks, flowers, etc, but with more dark greens, blues black, etc. (what happened to italics?)

5 Pastel Goth

Again, pretty self explanatory. Pastel goth mixes pastel colours with black, cute and creepy things. You’ll find a lot of Hello Kitty merch in a pastel goths home, especially the character Kuromi.

6 Romantic Goth

this is goth with a romantic vibe, think dark red silk bedsheets, four poster beds, candles, corsets, red lipstick, roses etc. it’s actually pretty cool, I can’t really explain it. I feel like it’s slightly similar to Vampire Goth

7 Vampire Goth

Playing into the vampire aspect of goth. Vampire goth, in my mind, is quite similar to Vampire Goth, because vampires are often described and depicted as romantic, lustful creatures.

8 Cyber Goth

You can always pick the cyber goth out of a crowd. They prefer neon colours to go against the black, and are living in a dystopian world, only doing it now. A lot of people don’t like cyber goths, but I think it’s still valid and pretty damn cool. They wear the cyberpunk goggles (which I love) and basically dress like they’re in a dystopian movie which is cool.

9 Gothabilly

A mix of goth and rockabilly music, goths within this type will listen to rockabilly. They wear stuff like silk, velvet, corsets and those cute little hats.

10 Corp Goth

I almost forgot this one. Corp goth is great if you work somewhere like an office or whatever and want to keep your dark style at work, but still look professional. It’s basically whatever people who work in corporations wear, but black and it’s so cool :)

Sorry if this sucked or didn’t help you, it’s too early for me to have much inspiration.

[isa-ghost]

shaking you by the shoulders. gnawing at the bars of the enclosure. begging screaming yelling sobbing crying for some happy qphil hcs . phil and his children. what do they do to destress. how do they recover from tragedy . p lease

Yknow what I need these so badly rn, I'm doing this ask first. Happy qPhil time.

qPhil headcanons masterlist

qPhil is a simple man. His kids are happy, he's happy. I've touched on this previously but they make him laugh so much. They're the fastest way to make him happy.

Seeing random pretty birds while on wandering adventures is another thing that makes him happy. They make him think of Rose.

I have to mention flying. I have to. I know it's angsty bc his wings are fucked. Shhh. Shut. Shut the up. It made him so happy. It still does, he has a glider and a grapple hook and a trident with riptide SHUT UP LET HIM FLY.

The times he and the kids share music together. The kids fucking love Battlecry and Dreamland and the three of them will start belting it out together.

Obligatory sparring mention. Listen some of the fandom makes pvp his whole thing and personality and that's not true but he's still good at it and likes it a lot. Esp when he gets to be unnecessarily homoerotic with Fit or Etoiles.

Building makes him happy ofc. Creating in general. He can't remember atm but he used to be an architect you could say, discovering the creations of the hardcore gods and tidying them up. Getting to make creations of his own for someone like him to discover one day feels fulfilling, even if he doesn't quite know why currently.

His friends' laughs make him happy. Fit's especially. You know the one. The one he does anytime he gets to be up to some fun destructive rebellious bullshit.

Messages aren't the only way the gods, especially Rose and Kristin, communicate with him. They give little signs that are subtle enough to go unquestioned by others but noticed by him. They're always with him and that makes his heart full.

I can't not mention his own stupid jokes he makes with the purpose of making Lullah especially die inside a little. His lame jokes are for him and him alone sometimes.

His crows and their dumbassery make him happy. For all the shit they affectionately subject him to and all the disapproval he puts on about the said shit, he'd be pretty lost without them. They've always been reliable to make him smile or at least feel heard when he has no one else.

He fucking loves all the cultural exchange he experiences with his friends. He could listen to Missa or Cellbit or Etoiles or literally fucking anyone talk for hours. God his friends are so cool and so are the things they tell him about.

Obligated to mention that the thought of Chayanne, a child, beat Ender King's ass for 3 days straight and bruised his ego so hard he gave up using Phil as a meat suit. It always cracks him up without fail.

Getting to reminisce to people about things. Especially memories of Techno or things he's done with Goddess of Death. He loves any excuse to talk about them and how awesome they are.

Crow brain means adventuring and finding cool loot makes him happy. Fuck EK he tainted it a little but Phil will reclaim the hobby if it kills him. He loves the rush of opening a new chest and seeing what cool shit awaits inside.

Okay listen this idiot is allergic to self care sometimes but god does he love the chill days where he and the kids just sit around or stay in one place and just hang out doing something fun and low energy. It's why he hates the reset. He wants the goddamn places they'd do that at back.

[thewertsearch]

CEB: wait… CEB: are you saying that vriska is interested in me? CEB: like, romantically?

I think she thinks she likes you, the same way she thought she liked Tavros. In her eyes, you're a potential replacement for him, which is a dangerous position to be in.

In short: yes. But watch out!

CTG: do you like her CEB: well, like i said, i thought she was pretty cool… CEB: kinda bossy! but also pretty friendly. CTG: yeah ok CTG: but i mean CTG: anything more than that CTG: like CTG: if earth wasnt destroyed and she werent in some other universe on a planet full of unspeakable frothing dipshits CTG: and she was on earth visiting your town or something CTG: would you want to ask her to go see one of your dumbass movies

Dave is actually helping John talk through his feelings, which is sweet as all hell. His instincts around this are surprisingly good, too - it probably would help John to separate his feelings about Vriska from his current situation.

Try to divorce yourself from the session, just for a second. You're not John the Player - you're John the teenager, and a girl likes you.

What do you think about her?

CEB: i don't think i have ever actually liked a girl before in that way, so i am not really sure what i am supposed to feel or do…

Grew up in a small town in Suburbia, USA.

Raised by a single father who struggles to relate to him.

No extended family to speak of, unless you count the ecto-sister he learned about an hour ago.

Has a social circle consisting of three online besties, and never mentions any IRL friends.

Uses stilted phrases like 'not a homosexual', and is so confused by his own feelings that he can't identify a crush.

John Egbert is a very sheltered kid, is what I'm getting at. I wouldn't be surprised if Karkat and Vriska were the first people who ever had crushes on him. This is all completely new to John, and I don't think has the slightest idea how he's supposed to respond.

Dad's great, but if John asked him for relationship advice, he'd tell his son to get a decent aftershave and a well-pressed suit. He's flying blind, and things will only get more complicated from here on in.

CTG: did one of the human ladies reject you ?CG: OF COURSE NOT. CTG: how did it go did you stand in a quadrant like you were playing four square CTG: holding a bucket full of flowers or slime or whatever and jade was like no thanks bro

I mean, he might have started with John, but he seems to hate Jade quite a lot, too.

We now know this was after his confession to John. Maybe it was a rebound?

CTG: or maybe it was a guy who rejected you ?CG: FUCK OFF. CTG: haha wow bingo CTG: see how i look right now thats a poker face might want to take some notes ?CG: I SEE NOTHING BUT A COWARD BEHIND DARK EYEWEAR CLEARLY DESIGNED FOR WOMEN AND A PAIR OF IMPUDENT LIPS PURSED SO TIGHT IT'LL SOUND LIKE AIR SQUEALING OUT OF A BALLOON WHEN I PUNCH YOU IN THE GUT.

Pursed lips?

Karkat. No, Karkat, look at me. Do you have a little crush on all the human kids?

You do, don't you. Oh my god, you do. Just stay away from Rose, or Kanaya will chainsaw you in half.

?CG: AND JOHN, PURELY HYPOTHETICALLY, IF ONE OF US IN THE FUTURE DOES MAKE SOME SORT OF SOLICITATION YOU DON'T QUITE UNDERSTAND… ?CG: BECAUSE OF PERHAPS SOME CULTURAL DIFFERENCES ?CG: I MEAN NO ONE IN PARTICULAR HERE ?CG: MAYBE TRY TO UNDERSTAND THAT PERSON MIGHT NOT BE THINKING TOO CLEARLY AT THAT MOMENT

Karkat, you're killing me here. I'm dying. You don't get any Boondollars from killing a liveblogger, Karkat.

[being-of-rain]

In the days before The Legend of Ruby Sunday, I thought to myself 'RTD did a lot of big bombastic series finales in his day, and always with Classic Who villains. But that was fifteen years ago. Maybe he's mellowed.' Dear readers, he had not.

Here's my thoughts on the episode! But fair warning, they're mostly that it was just okay. I mean it was fine. It was a fun, mindless bit of build-up and spectacle. Of course it was very much a Part One, so a lot of my thoughts are just 'I wonder where this will go next episode.'

Firstly, I don't think I'm a massive fan of RTD's method of story arcs, which is to sprinkle references to something throughout a season that'll be part of the final story without much elaboration. It feels less like a story, and more like a drawn-out teaser for the finale. And continuing a trend that started in RTD's last full season that I'm not crazy about, there was so many arcs and plot hooks too. Before the episode my brother and I listed as many we could think of, and it actually addressed almost all of them, plus one or two we forgot about or thought wouldn't come back. It started to feel like the characters were ticking off a shopping list of questions. And I know that these things basically just exist for fans to speculate about. And I can't pretend I didn't have fun joking and memeing about all the arc elements with other fans. But as someone who both isn't really that interested in genuinely theorising about how a series is going to end (odd for a Dr Who fan, I know) and who really likes story/character arcs that develop over time, I guess I'm just not the target audience. This season the arcs have pricked my curiosity, but not much more than that - except make me wish they did more with the supernatural elements than a few badly-conceived gods and the cool fairy circle episode.

Anyway, Sutekh! In the last few years the TV show has done the Morbius Doctors, Beep the Meep, the Toymaker, the Shalka Doctor... I really shouldn't be surprised by anything anymore, but I still sit in bemused shock when a finale revolves around Susan and Sutekh. And that is pretty fun. We had basically nothing of Sutekh this episode, so I'm very interested what the next episode will do with him.

I'm especially curious how much it'll dip into the Egyptian mythology aspect. Because on one hand, Pyramids of Mars is sorta built on the problematic and awkward trope that aliens at least inspired Egyptian culture. On the other hand, I think the Egypt link & aesthetic is a big part of Sutekh's identity as a villain/monster. I remember being bored when Big Finish tried to divorce him from it in their latest audio with him (but tbh I trust RTD to at least do a more entertaining story than that, even if he's boiling Sutekh down into simply a God of Death). Similarly, I think a really big part of why Sutekh made a big impact on the original Dr Who fandom is how he was a genuine overwhelming threat to the Doctor, something that probably won't be as big of a shock today. But the final part of Sutekh's identity is Gabriel Woolf, and he's absolutely as entertaining as ever.

As for Susan, after all that drama it'd almost be stranger if she didn't appear in some form in the finale. I'm wondering if Mrs Flood is Susan, something that's really weird to say seriously after thinking people were wrong about her being an important character for 6 months. At the very least I really hope they give Carole Ann Ford some kind of cameo, because it'd be such a missed opportunity if the very first companion actress was still alive and they didn't do anything with her.

What else? Mel continues to be lovely, and I continue to wonder if there's any reason it was her in particular who was brought back or if it was just to have a classic Who companion hanging around. Rose continues to be precious, and her instant bonding with Ruby is just adorable. I missed Ruth Madeley's Shirley, I assume it was filming conflicts that led to her being replaced by a preteen? When Harriet was introduced I distinctly remember thinking 'oh she's cute, I hope she sticks around.' And the Vlinx continues to have 1-2 lines and no explanation.

The VHS-powered time window was an extremely cool concept, but I feel like it didn't look as good and distinct as it could have. I'm not totally certain what I'd have done different but I still felt underwhelmed. And I'll say something I've said a lot, but I wish there was at least some vague rules to things like the time window. I don't care about scientific accuracy or real life logic, only narrative logic; if anything can happen with only a bit of poetry to justify it, the stakes and losses and victories aren't nearly as satisfying.

And this might make me sound like someone who looks for anything to complain about, but I feel there's something off about how UNIT is depicted recently. Like it's being glorified and simplified as 'the good guys' maybe more than it has any time before in the TV show's history. And it feels especially awkward when some of the UNIT characters are armed and armoured soldiers. I'm just very not in the mood to heroise someone who I might see committing war crimes on the news, you know. So I'm not really a fan of this version of UNIT and how it's consuming so many past companions.

Anyway!

Mystery Woman 1 (Susan): Sutekh. Mystery Woman 2 (Mrs Flood): Susan? Mystery Woman 3 (Ruby's mum): At this point I have to assume it's the Rani or Iris Wildthyme or Gillian Who or something.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

⭐️✨🌟⭐️✨I want to hear about something you’ve been dying to talk about😊

🥺👉👈 I want to talk about chapter 2 of Prince's Consort, pls

I love this chapter so much, and I love this story so much. I have really been getting into the weeds of worldbuilding for this one as much if not more than when I started Changing Currents.

One of my favorite things to think about when designing a culture is what the fashion would look like and why people would be dressed like that, so in chapter two I really got to start showcasing that with their clothing and how it changes for festivals. In Ennonata, and specifically in Shigaraki's kingdom, fashion is modeled after armor and fighting, but it's not meant to be functional. In demonic society, the average person, and even the average warrior doesn't wear armor to protect themselves from being hurt because if they die, they will come back, so what's the point? And if non-fatal wounds can be healed in a matter of seconds with magic, why bother at all? It creates a sharp distinction between how demons consider the world and combat over mortals. I also had fun then showcasing that attitude in concert with the fact that the guards do wear real, functional armor, with the implication behind that being their conflicts could be more drawn out and they may not have access to healers during them, making it more important for them over everyone else, including their Prince, to be able to endure more.

And the fabric!!! Oh, I love the fabric so much. So in most hot environments, especially deserts, clothes are made to cover up the body to keep sun exposer lower, but the clothing is made with lighter materials and fibers that can wick away sweat and promote its evaporation to help keep people cool. But in Ennonata, because it is just ambiently warm from the temperature of the burning souls, there is no sun, and demons don't sweat nearly as much as mortals do, their clothing is designed to be decorative and flowy. It is open so that they can be cooler from any breeze, and it reflects a culture that has a very limited concept of modesty.

And the way that clothing and jewelry are used to denote occupation makes me fucking insane!!!! Pets get piercings on their genitals! Outside of just blatantly having them wearing cuffs or chains which could be mistaken as the marks of a slave, this makes it impossible for them to ever escape because they are as good as branded (slaves are the ones who actually get branded in this society), because anyone who ever sees them naked will know what they were supposed to be! The Prince barely bothers with jewelry, but all of the other higher up demons drape themselves in symbols of wealth and luxury to showcase how much power they have. This decadence from those kinds of demons is meant to parallel how "new money" people tend to go for flash while "old money" people go for more classic designs of an extremely high quality. But!! There's another layer of it for Shigaraki because he is on the "new money" side of this equation! He started off enslaved as a gladiator, and rose to the position of Prince! He should be, more than anyone, trying to showcase how powerful and wealthy he is now, but he doesn't!! What does that say about him as a character? I can't wait to get into it!!!

Uh, yeah, I have a lot of feelings about Prince's Consort, sorry for exploding about them

[fortunatelychaoticphantom]

Yeah, so I finished Breaking Dawn.

General:

Holly shit. Holly fucking shit. Holly Jesus fucking Christ holly fucking hell god damn shit. THIS BOOK IS AMAZING.

I am serious. I am not being ironic or trying to be cool or contradictory or nothing. This book is absolutely batshit insanely fucking good. THIS IS GOOD FUCKING FANTASY.

Look. I've read and watched plenty of reevaluations of the series in the past couple of years, and I think we all know by now that it is far from perfect and there's a lot to criticize, but that the criticism and cultural uproar at the time was just pure misogyny and hatred to anything that girls like (a day will come when we talk about Justin Bieber and how the entire world decided its number one enemy was a 13 year old boy who wanted to be a pop singer and was beloved by 13 year old girls but it is not this day), and that Meyer is actually a very good world builder. This reread really solidified this for me, but even more so then before. I really do believe she is a good writer. NOT GREAT, but good. Until Breaking Dawn.

I am not joking when I tell you that this is one of the most incredible books I have ever read in my life. It is leaps and bounds better then any other book in the series. I think the other books are fine and enjoyable, they definitely don't hold the same charm over me as they did when I was 16, but they are absolutely entertaining and even truly touching (New Moon specifically). But this... this is just a different league altogether. This book is mature, and brutal, and aggressive, and disgusting, and horrifying, and reached fucked up territories that few writers dare to explore and I absolutely admire Meyer for this.

Part One - Bella:

It's a pretty short section of the book so there's not much to say about. It's sweet and fun but nothing much more.

Horny Bella is the best Bella. Get some girl.

Part two - Jacob:

Anyway, this right here is what brilliance is made of. I need to find a way to articulate it properly. It's the first time I have ever been so acutely aware of the narrator because the entire narration is in first person and so all the sections that are supposedly general descriptions are an active thought of Jacob that in almost every single moment are being experienced not just by me but by his pack(s) and by Edward and are commented on in the story. I don't even know how to explain just what an unbelievably wonderfully complexly imaginatively fucked up this is. Just. Amazing.

LEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

I'm okay I swear. But seriously. Leah's story is amazing as is, but it's the room Meyer gives her to be both filled with sorrow and with just pure spiteful rage. I love that she is not perfect, she is not currently nice, because she can't be nice, but a day will come when she might be better, be in a better place, and that's okay because we understand her. I just love her so much.

Speaking of which, I love the new bond between Rosalie and Bella but I also love that it's not entirely a good things? Like, there is a very clearly stated undertone that Rose cares more about the fetus than she does about Bella, and I just respect that? She isn't just magically sweet and kind, it's twisted and complicated and good storytelling (I forgot to mention in the Eclipse post Rosalie's backstory, but obviously that's also amazing).

Seth is also the most wonderful and pure cinnamon role in history and I will die for him.

6. this:

Leah: Mom dropped him a lot when he was a baby. Jacob: Oh his head, apparently. Leah: He used to gnaw on the crib bars, too. Jacob: Lead paint? Leah: Looks like it.

7. This section is just so fucking brutal. The physical toll of carrying the baby for Bella, Edward's agony, Jacob's suffering, Leah's everything, the coming attack from the wolves, the birth... Immaculate.

Part three - Bella:

If there was one Mary Sue I would stan, it was Bella. You're doing amazing sweetie!! You go and be an awesome newborn. We believe in you!!!

All the vampire descriptions are just so fucking good. The whole distractability, the way the new senses literally overwhelm you. I love it all.

You know what? I really don't mind the imprinting. Meyer goes to great lengths to say that it's in no way romantic. It's not the Greatest Thing, but, I mean, I'm reading a fantasy book... my suspension is very much suspending...

Jacob's being an ass again, only caring about what he wants, but it's only for like two chapters so it's fine.

I can't help but love the congregation of vampires, it's just so fun and interesting, and even though we spend so little time with them they are all so distinct.

It's a great showdown. I love it way more then I did the first time. I am still fond of the What-The-Fuck-They-Are-All-Dying???? scene from the movie, but it's intense even without it.

and this:

Garrett: If we live through this, I`ll follow you anywhere, woman. Kate: Now he tells me.

Good job all around. Now I need to go buy Midnight Sun.