#anyway. got to mementos!!!! cool!!

[intertexts-moving]

other reason im obsessed w akira is that i also am fucking jrpg semi silent protag coded. guy who only ever wears big white tshirts and black jeans & the same sneakers every day. never talks in gcs. etc.

[hecksupremechips]

Me: well p3 was sure a fun game but it’s very long and tedious to finish, especially with all this other stress in my life! I should only play shorter or more relaxed games for a while now before moving onto something long again!

Me the next day: time to start a new save on p5 royal!

[nectardaddy]

B.I.L.L.S , t. hanamaki

american hero. . . b.i.l.l.s. by towa bird

If I had a dollar then I wouldn't have to bother 'bout the bills. I'm so tired of paying rent.

pairing : hanamaki takahiro x f!reader

cw/notes : poverty/financial insecurity, conversation about/wishing for "what could be" (and a deep dive into the feeling of wanting), use of the pet name "sweetheart," humor as a coping mechanism, language, eating used as a metaphor, lots of metaphors in general, established long-term relationship, I am genuinely very proud of this fic so if you got tagged out of the blue that's why <3

word count : 2.6k

The apartment was dingy and run down, a muted tone of gray that submerged the entire cramped space into desolace. A desolace that bled into the other rooms, through the floorboards, through every nook and cranny of the compact unit - through the bones of the pair that inhabited it. Pictures and posters littered the drab walls. Old developed pictures and various music flyers stuck to drywall with bits and pieces of scotch tape - real frames were far too expensive - as they tried desperately to combat the dreary aura of the space. 

But it was difficult to fight against such longing; around every corner being yet another issue that would only ever be resolved with the one thing the pair didn’t have: funds. Air conditioning that went out every other month, as the landlord was too stingy to really fix it and complained with every call and maintenance request about the issue. Mold in the air vents, water pressure that was just short of a small stream, a lock on the door that barely bolted with a small chain lock that was used as a "replacement" that didn't really do anything. It reeked of dust and mildew, a musty smell that lingered no matter how many candles were lit and blown out. And trial and error to shut the, horribly painted, bedroom room; over the months they learned to turn the knob and slam rather than just slam. 

It was a constricted, at times uncomfortable; limited space meaning old cardboard boxes stayed within the living area or bedroom - mementos gathered dust that all but covered the unit entirely. Memories shoved in a box that would barely ever see the light of day, or simply, didn’t want to. Such a place didn’t deserve such warmth. A god forsaken space didn’t deserve the radiant coziness that came with trinkets and baubles, didn’t deserve the framed pictures - that would crash to the ground anyway, as the drywall often crumbled and fragmented - and surely didn’t deserve the mellow residents who resided in it. 

Both home from work, and both exhausted beyond belief, they sat together on an old, thrifted loveseat. A gaudy flower pattern that was stained and smelled of cigarettes from the latter owners, but a place to sit nonetheless. The man shuffled through a slew of mail, the woman, with her eyes closed and trying not to fall asleep right then and there, sat next to him. 

“I’m so fucking tired of paying this shit,” he grumbled before throwing the envelopes onto the rickety coffee table. A table that was discounted, dirt cheap, as one leg was cracked and wobbly. Oftentimes, it broke when too much weight was put on it, duct tape lined the connection between the leg and table itself. All it held was other envelopes - bills, an array of clipped coupons, and a long forgotten coffee cup, that’s rim was chipped and the handle cracked. 

“Then don’t,” the woman hummed in response, a cheeky reply to a serious notion. An exhaustion riddled in her voice that made him look over and sigh, heart strings pulled taut at seeing her weary form. “We can run away together and never have to see this shit hole again.” 

He stayed quiet for a moment, letting a pause settle between them. Allowed the sound of the fan in the far corner of the room to take over the silence he offered, the hum of it engulfed the room as it rotated to cool the entire apartment. “Maybe we should,” he sighed before a small smile pulled at his lips. “We can go off grid and everything, y’know they make shows about people that live like that, right? We could be famous.”

A breath of air passed through the woman’s nose as she chuckled, and she opened her eyes to look over at him. “You’re an idiot.” Even as she smiled at him, he couldn’t help but notice just how tired she looked. Her eyes were dark and hazy, unfocused even, as it seemed like all she wanted to do was close them again - to sleep. Her work uniform crumbled and wrinkled as she sat with her legs up on the small couch, too worn out to change upon coming, to what they reluctantly called, home. 

Home, to them, was coming back at odd hours. Never fully holding each other as the other had to whisk themselves away - to provide, to work. Times were fleeting, just as much as the money that came in. Gone within a second and drained from responsibilities. Every second together was taken with an ironclad grip, and sewn together with cups upon cups of coffee just to try and enjoy it all.

“Where would you want to go if we had the money to leave?” The off kilter question left his lips easily, without much thought put behind it. Because to him, that's all he ever thought about - leaving. He hoped one day he was able to scrape up enough funds, pack everything up, and leave the cramped unit all together with her by his side.

“Anywhere, honestly, this place sucks ass.” She groaned as she stretched her legs off the loveseat. A series of pops from overworked limbs hit his ears and made him frown - she didn't deserve to be this tired, not for this piece of shit apartment. Not for anything.

“I’m serious.” His normal, almost whimsical, tone went with the wind as he sat up a little straighter. He looked over to her with red tinged eyes, fatigued and strained, that swirled with an unforeseen worry.

“So am I.” A curt reply as she locked eyes with him. A realist, maybe a bit pessimistic to some, but the woman grounded herself in reality more than he. Didn't want to waste herself away with thoughts of what could be than what is. What could be was a sham, a figment of imagination she couldn't bear herself to think about often; as the thought of what is yanked her to the very pits of longing that she would later have to tear herself out of. 

“I know where I’d want to go.” A dream he hadn’t told her before, he wished he had the money to surprise her with it. But that day was far off in the distance, a mere glimmer of a memory, and he cracked under the pressure of wanting to share. At least this way, they could experience the dream together.

“Yeah? Where?” She closed her eyes again and let her head fall to his shoulder. 

“I’d want to go to Tokyo.”

She snorted at the thought, “spare me, Hiro, not this shit again.” A half hearted joke that landed a bit on edge, toed the line of snappy through drowsy laced words. A former wish she had heard before from him, a joke to only go to Tokyo to get piss drunk with friends. 

“No, not the bar hopping thing.” He assured and waved off the remark with a small chuckle. 

“Good, because you do that shit with Mattsun here anyway. You don’t need to drag me to Tokyo just for me to babysit you two idiots there.” Babysitting, truly, was an understatement to the woman. The thought made her cringe as she recalled past memories of his dear friend passed out in their bathroom, head in the toilet and completely out cold. 

“I want to take you to Ueno Park to see the cherry blossoms one day.” His voice was a twinge quieter than before, a bit breathless as he couldn’t believe himself for finally saying the dream aloud. Deep brown eyes shifted over to look at the woman, whose head still rested on his shoulder - completely silent.

The comment had her at a lack of words, letting another silence pass by them once more; but it lingered far too long. A silence that, as moments passed, began to have a weight to it and started to suffocate her. Every inhale became shallower than the last, and she couldn’t find it within herself to take a single breath more of the humid, musky air the apartment provided. She felt herself tumble into the gaping hole of wanting, needing, craving - pure, unbridled hunger for more than what is. A ravishing feeling that took her by the shoulders and shoved, falling head first into the empty, hollow feeling of what could be.

What could be was far from reality, what could be couldn’t happen.

She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked over at him, eyes a bit wider than before and lips parted through means to say something - nothing ever came. “You told me three years ago you wanted to do that.” Quiet words answered her unspoken question and she sucked in a breath. She remembered telling him that vividly, could recall the day to a tee as it held importance to her.

It rained that day, poured down onto the street as they ran back to their shared apartment - a better one than what they had now. Steps taken hastily, hand in hand, as he practically dragged her through the downpour with a laugh. Both forgot an umbrella, so they ran through the rain getting more and more soaked with every step. It wasn’t far from their unit, the pair only went down the street to a convenience store. But the storm they tried to outrun inevitability caught up with them, so the leisurely walk back home turned to a sprint.

Upon their return, they found themselves sprawled out on their bedroom floor. Their clothes drenched from rain and water puddled onto the hardwood underneath them. A silly action, to lay on the floor wet. But neither minded as they giggled and laughed with one another, enjoying the other’s company. 

Strawberry blonde hair stuck to his forehead and he raked a hand through it. A chuckle left his lips from an earlier conversation before he looked over at her once more, “if you could go anywhere in the world, where would you want to go?”

“What kind of question is that, Hiro?” A teasing tone laced within her cadence as she locked eyes with him. Bright and hopeful, full of love, and not an ounce of exhaustion swirling within them.

“One that I’m curious about, obviously, so indulge me.” The whimsy in his words was easily apparent, one of which she got used to quickly. And there was a sass in the timbre of his voice that muddled with care, a juxtaposition to his usual standalone brassiness. 

“What’s yours?”

“This isn’t about me, it’s about you.”

He watched the woman smile before she averted her eyes to the ceiling, scrunched her brows in thought a moment before she looked at him once more. “Probably Ueno Park, in April, to see the cherry blossoms.”

“Are you serious? Anywhere in the world, and you want Tokyo?” He never looked away from the woman throughout the conversation, and when she met his gaze once more he smiled. 

“Did you ask just to make fun of me, asshole?”

“No, god no.” He laughed, lips pulling into a silly smile before he took her hand in his own. “I’m just trying to figure out where I should ask you to marry me one day.”

The inescapable feeling of want consumed her, leaving nothing left behind as she was swallowed whole. A swirling sensation in her stomach that sickened her, made her ill to think about too long as all she could do was stare at him. “Takahiro.” Her words fell to a whisper as eyes flickered between his own, desperately trying to gauge the situation but to no avail. “You can’t be serious?”

“As a heart attack, sweetheart.” The smile he had started to falter, and the concern that saturated her eyes made his heart sink. But through that concern, the smallest, most miniscule, glimmer of need shone through. Even through tired, bloodshot eyes and a tinge of cynicism, she wanted the dream just as much as he, if not more.

“Hanamaki,” she breathed. “Be real for a second-” But she was cut off as he turned to face her, the old loveseat squeaking under the shift of weight, and he took her hands in his own

“I am being real, so put that name away.” Erring on defensive, put a care behind it that she couldn't ignore. A rare seriousness in his voice that made her swallow hard. “I’m taking you to see those damn cherry blossoms at some point, and when I do I'm asking you to marry me.” 

She opened her mouth to say something but promptly shut it, not knowing what to say to the man. But she felt as the ravenous feeling turned to a starved, almost primal, one. Felt her stomach twist into knots at the thought - she wanted to swallow the notion completely. Needed to feel the crunch and snap of it in her mouth, wanted her teeth caught in it, needed it to be consumed until nothing was left. She abstained from could be for too long and needed to devour the concept entirely. 

But could be wasn’t what is. What is left a bruise, tender and raw, that left a rotten taste in her mouth. She felt the urge to spit out the thought as it circled within her mind like a vulture, ready to dive within a split second. “But-”

“We will, I swear.” He cut off her protest and squeezed her hand. But to no avail, as she only looked at him with a sense of apprehension.

“But we're-” 

“I know, I know,” he sighed. Brown eyes slid over to the envelopes on the coffee table, bold red letters catching his attention that made him close his eyes. “Believe me, I know.” A disheartening belief that caused him to take a deep breath before opening his eyes again to look at her. He brought a hand to her cheek, pale fingers gently brushed over her skin with a warmth that was inviting, loving, and selfless. He gave her a small, out of sorts, smile, “but I want to do this. For you. For us. Hell, because we deserve to do something nice. I want us to have something to look forward to other than the same, shit ass, walls everyday.” 

She paused a moment, let his words sink in, before she bit down hard on the concept and refused to let go. “Ok,” she nodded carefully. “Alright, we’ll go to Ueno Park one day.” Could be tasted sweet and savory, mouth watering to think about. It eased a craving that deflected from what is - so just this once, she let herself free fall into it. “Do you even have a ring to ask me with?” 

His smile pulled into a grin at her question, and he chuckled. “Would you say yes to a ring pop?”

With a paltry laugh, she leaned into his hand that was still on his cheek. “As long as it's strawberry, then absolutely, you dumbass.”

“Strawberry it is, sweetheart.” 

However, he didn’t really need the sweet, confectionary ring. In one of the many old cardboard boxes within the living area and bedroom that collected dust - a particularly well kept, small box hidden in the back of their tiny, shared closet - was a ring he bought three years ago. Bought shortly after the conversation was had, when he still had the money to stretch. Stuffed between memories that would barely ever see the light of day, because a place like this didn't deserve such warmth.

But the warmth was willingly given anyway, whether the pair knew it or not.

series taglist (open, send an ASK) + a few moots bc I am genuinely very very very proud of this

@causenessus @softpia @renardiererin @kodzu-ken @phoenix-eclipses

@wyrcan @honeekyuu @wakashudou @wolffmaiden @eggyrocks

@dailyakira @cupidsblonde @mollyrolls @wolffmaiden @zumicho

@jadeoru @sandwhitches

[fairytale-poll]

ROUND 1D, MATCH 2 OUT OF 16!

Propaganda Under the Cut:

Linh Cinder:

Her glass slipper is her prosthetic foot. She's a cool badass mechanic queen. She's named Cinder because her aunt set her on fire as a toddler but she survived. She's a a cool cyborg with psychic powers, and she's also a really good mechanic.

She's a cyborg and she's from the Moon

She is a badass mechanic who is also a cyborg and did not intend to get dragged into this mess. She becomes a fugitive of the law, running from the prince who is also her romantic interest and is just objectively the best.

I love a sarcastic character and I love a good confrontation scene and she's great with both

she's a cyborg she's a mechanic she's a princess she's a fugitive she's the best.

She's a mechanic she's the lunar princess she has two prosthetic limbs she's supposed to be dead. Her best friend is an android who's a fangirl of her boyfriend (Kai, the emperor). Her ball was actually her showing up to keep Kai from getting seduced by her aunt (who's queen of the moon) and then killed. Instead of losing her slipper she just lost her entire foot. (That's all just in the first book.)

look man, if you've read tlc you know why but if not: cinder here goes through a lot, from living in a shitty household to leading a rebellion and witnessing what's practically a massacre (TWICE), getting stabbed in the mc'freaking heart and surviving, being a wanted fugitive, Oh, and also, she loses her goddamn FOOT instead of a glass slipper lol (albeit the foot is a prosthetic, which i might've forgotten to add, her left arm and (i think) leg are metal due to getting BURNED as a toddler by her somewhat power hungry aunt)

She's SO cool she's a mechanic and really clever and also an amputee and her prosthetics are very cool and she has fun space adventures with her little gang of found family and is also the heir to the crown on the moon and is trying to get control of it from her aunt (who's a dictator) so she can help the moon people be less oppressed! tl;dr she's a girlboss

She literally got set on fire. Shes a cyborg. Shes such a girl boss that her love interest kept her severed prosthetic foot as a memento. She is a revolutionary [against her will] and a politician [also against her will]. Shes a skilled mechanic, and called the queen of a super-powerful alien race with the ability to manipulate people’s perceptions of reality ugly TO HER FACE. Queen does not give a shit and just wants to hang out with her robot bestie and her dork ass boyfriend who is also the leader of an entire country. Shes iconic, she is the moment.

she's a teenage cyborg who works as a mechanic and is secretly royalty - a badass and i love her!!

Kickbutt cyborg Cinderella princess

Cyborg and mechanic is a fun new twist on classic Cinderella! (At least when I read it and it was new). Plus she’s got her Prince/Emperor all wrapped around her fingers before the ball!

she's cool as fuck that's why!! cyborg cinderella in a cool-ass future sci-fi world, she doesn't have glass slippers so she loses her ill-fitted cybernetic foot, she has a gun in her cyborg hand (mostly uses nonlethal projectiles), she has cool sci-fi magic mind powers, she's from the moon, she's a mechanic & she's smart as hell, she literally forms a ragtag team of other fairytale inspired characters & dethrones the evil queen of the lunar monarchy. also her prince charming is cool & funny & they're so sickeningly in love their feelings could power the sun. anyway vote Cinder ✨️

cinder is a mixed cyborg mechanic who has acquired beef with both her stepmother (adopted) and her bio aunt (tyrant queen levanna) and manages to escape their attempts to keep her down (including arson when she was like. 3 years old) and ultimately overthrows her aunt in a revolution lead by her and the other fairytale retellings (red riding hood and wolf, rapunzel and her ‘prince’, and her cousin snow white and her prince) and establishes a democracy! i enjoyed the series growing up and i personally think that cinder is very cool :]

The first book in The Lunar Chronicles is a retelling of cinderella, and my gosh it’s amazing. Cinder is a cyborg and faces a lot of prejudice, and it’s interesting to see that even in the future, where the book is set, there’s still so much discrimination, and Cinder faces it so well. She’s smart and snarky, and has such character growth and cares so much and akhjfqwthbj

shes cinderella if cinderella was a cyborg and also secretly an alien moon princess. fucking amazing series everyone should read it. It's very common for Cinderella retelling that "girlboss" her end up sending the weird message that victims of abuse should simply stand up for themselves <3 I really like Cinder because she's spunky and snaps at her stepmother, but it doesn't. do her any good? It just makes her stepmother worse. Also one of her stepsisters is nice, I love Peony.

Cyborg Cinderella, long-lost princess of the moon, revolutionary against the evil queen.

she’s a cyborg! instead of losing her shoe on the steps of the palace her entire foot comes off 👍 thats hard as fuck she’s so cool

Cinderella:

Because she is so cute in this, I love her outfits before and after the transformation, and this movie is just such a good adaptation of Cinderella

the 1997 cinderella movie is the best one ever to me like. you have whitney houston as the fairy godmother and brandy is so so so pretty and she's such an amazing cinderella. 10 minutes ago the best cinderella song of all time ever she sounded so good<3

does this movie even NEED propaganda?

Brandy Cinderella with Whitney Houston! Need I say more?

Brandy plays one of the best iterations of Cinderella actually

I just think she's neat. Also she looked the best in the ball gown

One of the most iconic Cinderellas of all time, Brandy brought tenderness, earnestness, and heartfelt poignancy that transformed the story and emphasized its humanity and themes of dreaming for the future. Her voice is celestial! The power of her performance is undeniable! As a lifelong Cinderella fan she was always one of my favorites.

A lot of children grew up watching this movie around the holidays.

This is my favorite version of Cinderella and Brandy absolutely KILLS IT as Cinderella!! Her voice is so sweet and beautiful. And her dress!! I love her peplum. ALSO HER BRAIDS MAKE A BUN AND ITS SO ADORABLE. just look up the soundtrack for this movie PLEASE

[heyclickadee]

Okay, to try to explain why the Bad Batch finale is driving me crazy

Imagine if Rebels ended at season three. (Thought experiment time!)

Not that it got cancelled; no one is saying it was cancelled, everyone is saying that this is where they wanted to end that chapter. And the entire season plays out exactly the same as it did in the real world*. Zero Hour, exactly as is, ends up being the series finale.

And the initial reaction is, “Great! They’re alive! They made it out, no one else besides Ahsoka died, we’re so relieved,” except—

What about Lothal? We built up to trying to save Lothal even in the third season—are we really just forgetting about it? What about Ezra becoming a Jedi? The whole sequence with the Bendu was really cool, but what about that foreshadowing line he gave to Thrawn in the end? Where is that supposed to go? Why did we waste a whole episode on space whales? Why didn’t Ezra’s talent for connecting with animals ever go anywhere? What about the side episodes about the Rebel Alliance? The episodes in the season were very good on their own-in fact, a few might be close to the best episodes in the show—but because there’s no payoff and nothing goes anywhere, it all sort of falls apart. Kallus’s redemption arc was fine, but what’s he going to do now, or is he just going to feel bad about what he did? I’m glad they’re all alive and all, but that’s it? Theres no real victory except survival? Why did we spend multiple episodes in the temple on Lothal if that wasn’t going to go anywhere besides getting Ahsoka killed?

Speaking of, Ahsoka really died, and we never dealt with it? Thirty seconds of Ezra crying, everyone looking sad, a sorrowful look from Rex, then we never discuss it, and the only time she comes up is when we’re discussing her job as Fulcrum? It was ambiguous enough to begin with, then we never really got confirmation or any processing on screen at all. We had a whole episode for Ezra to process learning that his parents died, and we never even really met those characters! But nothing for Ahsoka? She’s a fan favorite, and she means so much to a lot of people in the audience. She seemed like she was Dave’s favorite, even! It’s not like her death affected anyone either—all the character motivation was driven either by Kanan’s blindness, the fallout with Maul, or Ezra being tempted by the holocron. It was noble and tragic, sure, but narratively, they just killed her for shock value. If she’s even supposed to be dead! We don’t know for sure!

So you’re thinking through all of that, trying to figure out what the hell happened here and how a show that was otherwise very good only resolved two or three subplots, none of which was the main one, never really dealt with a main character’s death, and never fully 100% resolved anyone’s character arc, all while the showrunners refuse to say that this is the last time we’ll see these characters and insist on using the word “chapter” to refer to the end. So you’ve got a sneaking suspicion that the story isn’t actually over, that there’s something weird going on, but you don’t know for sure, and you can’t just let things lie because it’s not that it’s just a bad ending, it’s that it’s bad in a particularly insane way that would come back around to being incredible if there ended up being any follow through for a series that was somehow 99% set up and no payoff.

Anyway, this is where I’m at with The Bad Batch right now.

* For the purposes of this thought experiment, we can add a except that there’s a little epilogue at the end—not the epilogue we actually got at the end of season four of Rebels, but an epilogue where a fifteen-year-older Ezra has a conversation with Hera (no one else, and no Jacen around, no sign that Jacen even exists) about needing to go do something, and then hopping into a ship that looks a bit like the Phantom and has little mementos from various members of the ghost crew family around. Ezra mentions Zeb, Sabine, and Chopper, so we at least know they’re alive, but he doesn’t mention anyone else, and neither does Hera. Something with Ahsoka’s fulcrum symbol is sitting on Ezra’s dashboard. We learn nothing about what anyone does in the meantime. It’s completely open.

[fancyfade]

i feel like the LoCGers who are criticizing batman and robin #14 for having a "regressed" or OOC damian genuinely can't even remember the events of Williamson's batman and robin itself.

like.... damian doesn't want to go to a public event with Bruce? oh no. Are you remembering Damian making a big fuss about school in Batman and Robin by williamson? And you could be like "oh well but he learned to appreciate school" but HOW????? We saw like no positive connections there except for maybe the bio teacher who secretly turned out to be shush? Are we just supposed to write a satisfactory story in our heads to make up for williamson not telling one on page?

I guess he also was slightly rude to someone at a party, but... how is it not clear that he was sad he never got to meet his grandpa, who the guy trained with? and also who cares if he's slightly rude lol

anyway. ok back into actual plot/writing developments of the story that isn't just me responding to people beign wrong online

I am curious where the memento memori thing is going. The Damian and Bruce having to act with no costumes will be neat; I hope damian saves the civilians he's with next issue I want to see him doing something really cool.

Damian sassing the bad guys was fun as always. I'm also glad to see we get a little bit of his regular personality back.

[monk-of-figaro]

Indirect Storytelling

@tayasigerson's recent (and amazing!) art of Sabin and Gau with Tiger Masks got me thinking about ways in which games can offer means of indirect storytelling that standard literature cannot.

I'm no expert on linguistics or the English language, so maybe "indirect storytelling" isn't the proper term. Or maybe I'm wrong about my assertion in the first place. But to me, the fact that only Sabin and Gau can equip the Tiger Mask feels like there's a character trait that is implied but never stated.

Why is it that only Sabin and Gau can equip the Tiger Mask? What is the commonality between the two that nobody else shares? What does this imply about their characters?

I have my own theories, of course - thoughts about how they both embody the idea of "wildness", both literally and figuratively; or maybe how they each have a connection to "nature" that is stronger than other party members; or maybe even their connection to each other has something to do with it - but the fact that something as simple as who can equip an item can be used to hint at character or plot elements is pretty wild, isn't it?

The Tiger Mask isn't even the only example of this in FF6. Probably the most famous example is the Memento Ring, which can only be equipped by Shadow and Relm, and to my immediate recollection is the only direct connection they share in-game. Everything else about their relationship is implied through Shadow's flashbacks (which only connect them by showing he was in Thamasa with a dog at some point in the past) and through Interceptor's uncharacteristic affection for Relm.

Because Shadow and Relm are not shown to have any real relation or connection, and in fact speak probably less than a dozen words to each other the entire game, the fact that this seemingly-random pair are the only ones who can equip the Memento Ring is really special (and easily missable). If everyone could equip the Memento Ring, it would lose its specialness, and we'd lose a key aspect of the Shadow/Relm backstory.

The Memento Ring also adds additional context by its description:

Ring blessed by departed mother's love. Prevents petrification, zombie, and instant death.

Most Relics in FF6 don't have as much lore behind them as something imbued with a "departed mother's love", so the fact that only Shadow and Relm can equip this strongly implies they each have a connection to this "departed mother". There are even fanfics (like this amazing one from @azurefishnets - A Nameless Memento) that use the Memento Ring directly as a plot element for the Shadow/Relm/Strago dynamic.

A third implication can be drawn from the fact that the Memento Ring prevents all instant-death techniques. Why is that? How and why does a departed mother's love protect against instant-death? What does that imply about the mother's own death?

In addition to the Memento Ring and the Tiger Mask, there are other items that can only be equipped by specific people. Here are a few choice examples:

Royal Crown (Edgar, Sabin)

Red Jacket (Edgar, Sabin)

Snow Scarf (Gau, Mog, Umaro)

All the "Suit" costumes, like the Moogle Suit (Strago, Relm)

Some of those make some sense - like the Royal Crown - but others are kind of open to interpretation. Maybe it makes sense that Mog and Umaro can equip the Snow Scarf, but why can Gau, and why can't anyone else?

What about the Red Jacket? Does that have some connection to royalty, or is there something else being hinted at? After all, red is not one of the Figaroan colors; it's the opposite of blue, which actually is one of the Figaroan colors. And why does it negate fire damage? Is there some connection with the desert heat?

Anyway, sorry for the rambling post. It just struck me how cool it is that gaming - and particularly FF6 - has this unique method of conveying story that is not possible with any other medium, and that's pretty cool! FF6 is also the only game that I can recall that uses equipment to convey (or imply) untold elements of the story like this.

As if I needed yet another reason to obsessively love the game so much.

[mushroommanstan]

university!au please!! infamous!shiggy with average s/o 🤼‍♀️ pls i

Oh anon, how did you know I’ve been wanting to write a college au Shig for a while? You must be psychic or something, very impressive!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Creepy Tenko Part One:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anyways, I know you want the smut and shit but there’s a few things about Tenko that make him so infamous.

First off, his backstory. Basically, he was kidnapped by AFO as usual, but he was rescued by heroes this time a few months after. Unfortunately, a lot of damage had already been done.

The heroes were embarrassed as hell that they took so long to save him, and as a publicity act, paid to put him through elementary school, middle school, high school and hell even college. The big package.

Because of that, his entry was guaranteed since he was like 6. Obviously, this is gonna turn some heads.

Now this guy was infamous around campus for many reasons. For starters, growing up murdering his family and spending a summer with your local serial killer is gonna be the headline of his life. Everyone knows about that, and he doesn’t even deny it.

Also, because of that experience he has major ptsd and schizophrenia, causing a few tiny violent outbursts throughout his childhood. But it’s fine, he’s medicated now… most of the time.

He’s also very aloof, not talking to anyone if he can help it. He’s used to bullying, and at this point has pretty much given up making any friends. He’s so used to people being scared of him, just like his old master said, that he kind of embraces it, not even trying to hide when he stares at people for hours on end.

Oh yeah, and the stares. This guys got a dark ass aura. His blazing red eyes burn a hole in the back of the women he stares at. He’s a smart guy, he doesn’t need to pay attention to the whole lesson to get the gist. So lucky him, he can spend the rest of the class period staring at some chick while discreetly touching himself under the desk. Make eye contact with him if you dare.

The thing that completely tanked his reputation however, was when one guy got pissed at him for making goo-goo eyes at his girlfriend all day. He stopped him on his way to his dorm, punching him which made him stumble.

Something flew out of his hoodie pocket, and the man picked it up, students gathering around as he faced poor Tenko.

Tenko looked mortified, tears gathering in his eyes, but he wasn’t looking at his attacker. He was looking at his stolen object. The assailant hadn’t gotten a good look at what he was holding, and by the look on the freaks face it meant something to him.

The other students who gathered around screamed, some running to hurl in the nearby trash cans. When he finally looked at what he was holding it took him a good second to figure out what it was.

It was cold and grey. Fleshy with a golden back and… fingernails. Wait… was that… oh my god.

He yelled throwing the detached hand into the air, Tenko diving to catch it. He could feel himself losing control, his old senseis voice overtaking his brain and making his whole body shiver. He-he needed to calm down.

Tenko rose, pressing the cool hand into his face as he took deep breaths. He stopped trembling, and for a second, even with the screaming and yelling and trampling, everything was calm.

Obviously he got in trouble for having a murder scene victim’s body part in his possession, but Tenko knew from experience that no matter whatever bullshit they tried to scare him with, they couldn’t expel him.

He was like a mascot for the heroes’s new scholarship program. No way they would let him get expelled just because he kept a memento of his lost family. So, like always they payed them off. But the students remembered, and the guy who held the disembodied hand needed therapy.

So, not only was he a creep who got off to pictures of feet in the bathroom during homeroom, he also was a creep who kept a souvenir of his first murder victim with him at all times. Weird weird weird.

And then you came along.

He didn’t think much of you, that was, until you decided to sit down in one of multiple empty seats bordering his desk. No one ever sits this close.

Well… he had to admit… you were pretty. With your silky (h/c) hair, and your brilliant eyes, and your juicy, plump…. Eh-hum, personality.

He couldn’t stop himself from staring, not like he tried. You’ll learn soon enough that he’s a creep, and then he’ll be alone again. Yep. All on his own. Terrific.

His eyes bore into you, not just in one place but all over. Scanning over your body and memorizing every detail. From this close he could truly see how smooth and soft your skin was. And he could smell your perfume. What was that, lilac?

“Oh, do you like the perfume? I just got it! It’s lilac!”

Shit. You must have a mind reading quirk. He could feel his face growing bright red at the idea of you seeing the foul things he imagined in the last minute or so.

Truthfully you only knew because you could hear him sniffing the air like a puppy exploring a grassy field for the first time.

As the class went on you looked at him occasionally, not flinching whatsoever at the intense eye contact he returned. You had to admit… he was pretty cute. With eyes like those he should be the center of attention yet here he is sulking in the back of the class. Well, whatever, not your business.

The professor droned on about who knows what, making the both of you slump over your desks with boredom. You were praying for an oasis in the midst of this dry, dull desert of a classroom, when you heard a familiar sound.

Beep-boop, boop bleep!

You could recognize that sound anywhere! That was… that was…

You had to stop yourself from slamming your hands on the table in shock. The cute guy sitting next to you was playing the limited edition “Super Hero Adventure Deluxe” for the gameboy advance. (Not an actual game I think)

Aka, the only game in the Super Hero Adventure franchise you had yet to play. The one you had scoured EBay for forever. Holy shit, marry me!

You couldn’t help yourself, despite not knowing this guy in the slightest you pressed yourself into his shoulder, scaring the shit out of him and causing almost everyone to stop and look at you. You looked down at the pixelated screen, currently being death gripped by gloved hands as your cheek smushed against his fluffy black hair.

Tenko could feel his body shutting down from the inside. The sudden physical contact, the fact it was from a hot girl, and the realization she had an interest in his favorite game was all too much. Everyone watched as he pushed you away, screaming at you to stay away from him with some fairly colorful language.

Your expression darkened, and you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. Having used to people tucking in their tail, he had to say he was not at all prepared for this. He didn’t actually want to fight you, he just wanted you to back off! … don’t make him fight you, you’re the first girl to touch him in years.

You both held intense eye contact for what felt like forever, but in reality was for only a second.

“You do not talk to me like that. Understand?”

Oh boy. Oh-ho-ho BOY you were awakening something in him he didn’t know he had. His face turned tomato red and his ire-filled glare turned into a soft gaze filled with child-like wonder. Not being able to speak he shakily nodded, hand raising up to feel along the one gripping his shirt. His fluffy hair bounced a little as he nodded.

You let go, returning to your seat with a huff and turned your head, and you were met with the utterly shocked faces of your classmates. They looked at you like you had just slain a dragon.

Meanwhile Tenko said nothing, face still completely red as his foggy mind spent the rest of class processing these new feelings that came up. The way you touched him, the way you scolded him! It was so… mean. So entitled. So dominant.

He wants more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Believe me, I will be doing a part two! Thanks again for the ask, it finally gave me the kick in the pants I needed to write this!

[immortalmsmoon]

Hello 👋🏽 Nice blog you got here!

May I please request headcanons for Joker, Akechi, and Ann reacting to their female S/O asking them to change her aunt’s heart after she shows anger and bitterness towards the family, snapping during a party which terrifies the S/O?

Phantom Thieving

A/N: Thank you so much for the request!! i am so sorry this took so long, i've had a lot of school work to do and i have been INSANLY busy. i'll try to get these next requests out as fast as i can.

Warnings: mentions of Killing In akechi's (very brief), talk of an Aunt that yells at Y/n

Word Count: 679

Akira Kurusu~

Angry to say the least

not the type to verbally or physically show that anger in anyway though, you you probably won't figure out he's angry at your Aunt

VERY eager to change the heart of your aunt.

you mean the world to him, so the fact that someone treated you with such disrespect has him seething.

when he's not Phantom Thieving, he's making sure to give you attention and affection, and is always pretty carful not to yell around you regardless of what the situation might be

sometimes even goes as far as to make sure his friends don't yell around you

Akira did not have a short temper, and it took a lot to truly make him angry.

Somehow your aunt had turned the usually cool headed teenager into one filled with one filled with anger to say the least.

He had been hesitant at first. Changing a person's heart was a permanent thing, and he didn't want you to make the decision just because you were angry. But as soon as you told him the story as to why you felt your dear Aunts heart should be changed, he was eager and ready to do it.

he put it at the top of his priority list. he ignored most of his other memento requests, instead deciding that the specific request you had given him was the most important thing in the world.

He made sure check up on you as the change of heart was in progress, taking you out around town, and making you coffee so you could have a break from your family. he new the best thing for you would be to take your mind off the situation until it was resolved.

Goro Akechi~

Not typically one to change hearts, but he's willing to do it for you

his anger is a lot more visible, especially when he sees how much it scared you

as soon as you tell him the story, he is making comments.

"How could your Aunt do that to you?" "Your aunt is obviously the problem here." "She sounds like a real pain"

it takes a lot to hold back when confronting your aunt, especially because killing people is basically muscle memory for him, but thinking of you keeps him in line

It wasn't often you came to Goro in tears. And every time you did he dreaded it.

In his eyes you were so perfect. the Personification of joy and happiness and love, and it made no sense to him that anyone could ever yell at you.

when he found out what your Aunt had done he could feel anger coursing through him like blood.

He was delicate with you as he held you, making sure not to scare you anymore than you already were.

Of course he wanted to help you. but helping others wasn't something he was particularly good at. He would try his hardest anyway, if it meant he could hear you laugh, see you smile.

He would do anything to make you happy.

Ann Takamaki~

She understands exactly how your feeling.

she had been yelled at the same way as you, and it made her angry that someone as kind and loving as you had to experience that.

quick to tell Akira of your situation, and really presses on the Phantom Thieves about fulfilling your request.

She takes you out on crepe dates and invites you to come to her modelling sessions so you can take your mind off of the situation until its fixed.

As soon as Ann heard your story, her once present smile faded.

First Shiho, and now you? it broke her heart.

She held you close for a second, her eyes welling up. She quickly wiped them away, before letting you go. this time she would be strong enough to protect you. and that was a promise.

it seemed like all the people around her lately were sad. she new she needed to fix the situation. She sent Akira a quick text, explaining your situation, before asking to take you out for crepes.

[bombyxluna]

could you share your rosekiller head canons with us pls

Omg id love to!!

(Beware, some of these are NSFW)

- okay so, I think they both kinda fell for each other around the same time, but it took Barty way longer to realize what he was feeling was love, so ig you could say Evan fell first but Barty fell harder? Except they fell together

- Barty smokes like a chimney, that man will have a cigarette for breakfast and see nothing wrong with it. Evan doesn’t, he can’t stand the taste of it, but he’ll smoke weed on occasion (he’s Pandora’s twin after all). This however means Barty must keep his mouth minty fresh or he will be denied kisses

- Evan collects trinkets, many of them Barty gave to him bc he thought of him when he saw them. This ranges from cool rocks to animal skulls and a dead bugs, and a really cool flower he saw on the road, and a rat king carcass that Evan had the time of his life dissecting

- Barty is a genius, that much is known, but he hides that sometimes so people keep their guards down around him, but not with Evan. With Evan he can be as freakishly smart and quick witted as he wants and he loves how quickly they both fall into deep dives of random knowledges—each researching their own thing ofc, parallel play style

- in fact parallel play is a big thing for them. They just love doing things and being near each other as they do it

- Evan was the first person Barty opened up to about his issues with his father and the pressure he put on him. How he wanted Barty to be the perfect successor to a lineage he wanted nothing to do with because that wasn’t him, how his father saw him as an echo of himself, another limb, an extension of what he couldn’t be and how Barty hated that, but how he desperately wanted to please him nonetheless. Evan didn’t get it, his family issues were far different from Barty’s, but he did get it at the same time. He got that Barty needed a place to be who he was and figure himself out on his own, and Evan wanted to be that place to him

- Evan took a little longer but he also opened up about his family life, how his parents had fallen off the wagon and left the entire house and the responsibilities as heirs to him and Pandora, and how they were cruel and selfish and unbecoming to both of them, but especially her, and Evan hated it. Barty offered to kill them, and Evan fell a little bit more in love

- Evan is obsessed with having little parts of Barty—a vile of his blood, a tooth, locks of his hair. He loves having physical mementos of the boy he loves. Barty is the same way and proudly display his necklace with Evan’s blood vile dangling from it

- they practice dueling together and come up with their own curses and spells

- Barty lets Evan test potions and experiments on him because he loves seeing how he gets when he’s in the zone, and he trusts him

- I got more than one hc for what their first time was like, so here’s one: in the middle of the potions lab after Evan successfully brewed a new invention, infused with his and Barty’s blood—the ultimate binding potion, that would link them to one another forever

- their first kiss was after Barty got a week’s detention for cursing some kid who said Evan was weird and probably a psycho. Evan stared at Barty for a long time after that, unsure what the feelings growing in his chest were—possessiveness, pride, smugness, the feeling of being cared for and protected, obsession, belonging and owning and—until they were all but consuming him and he just needed to kiss Barty right then and there, even as slughorn shouted at them about melting people’s skin off

- Barty helped him study for the owls bc Evan sucks at astronomy

- they’re kinky. They’re into stuff that would put a nun into a coma she’d never wake up from

- yes a lot (most) of their kinks are not exactly safe. Some are not even legal (forbidden curses, anyone?). They like dangerous things, technical things, and they know the risks and do it anyway because it’s hot and they trust each other

- Also they switch but Barty mostly tops! He likes to bottom though, especially when he feels like he needs more contact, and to feel closer and closer to Evan

- They have each other’s initials tattooed

- their patronus match each other

- they took the mark together, in the same day, and for them it was like a vow—another sign that they’d be together forever

- when Barty found out what Moody did, he swore to have his revenge, in a way that Evan would want it. So he dragged out Moody’s suffering, took his place, and did the dark lord’s bidding to bring him back, because he knows Evan would love that plan

- oh they also bring regulus is as a third in their sexual endeavors sometimes. Regulus is half traumatized half horny as fuck every time

[greekceltic]

Blue bread is baked at Stray Temples (usually a farm outside of town) and given out to strays. They don't need more than a crumb to be good for the day. The bread doesn't have to be blue, it just has to be made from sacred wheat. Cat spirits don't need to eat, but if they don't or feel too neglected they turn into other things that range from sad to nasty. (This is probably the origin of some of the creatures you find in the Way and originating from the way, such as tangles, the lost and baby's breath. It bears mention that eating bread isn't good for living cats, but spirit cats eat what they want.

Blue Bread tends to be gritty and not that pleasant to eat because it's usually hand ground and cats aren't big chewers anyway. Alf and Jacky eat it because its convenient. Alf's reasons are somewhat religious (he is hardly devote). Jacky fell into the habit because she didn't have an appetite for a while and already ate like a bird. Now she's always got a small loaf in her bag. She never has to come home from adventuring, what's to lose?

It's popular to impress stories upon the bread. Pictures are sometimes carved into ovens. Sometimes to be baked onto the bread, sometimes for more belief based reasons. The image doesn't have to be clear, it just has to be present to get the desired effect. Real bread ovens have an insulating layer of glass that I think is neat. I don't think that glass melts into a usable disc (wish it did, how cool would that be?) but I'm determined to find a way to make that happen in cat ovens. The disc would be kept after the oven is retired and kept as a memento. Old temples might use their old discs as window glass.

[rockwgooglyeyes]

rock there are tears in my eyes btw. I love them

anyways, about jius thoughts on memento mori! sorry I got so excited that I wrote all this here and decided to put kios thoughts in a separate ask to keep it shorter

JIU -> MEMENTO

Pities her deeply in a way that is so obviously self-projecting. Sometimes, when he really squints he can see Kioku's likeness, and it's incredibly jarring to imagine a girl who reminds him of Kio carrying a guilt and burden that reminds him of his own. He'd feels towards her like an incredibly stern and cold father would feel towards his daughter. A mixture of "you fool. we make the same mistakes" and "I know what it's like. I'll look after you".

Hell, if Jiu and Mento ever crossed paths, I feel like Jiu would even try to help Mento cover up her secret (if she decided to open up to him). Not to Mori, of course, but to everyone else just to keep her reputation in tact. It might not be Mento's main goal to stay outwardly innocent, but I think Jiu's self-projection would reach pretty far. He'd go to great lengths to keep her image clean (even if she never asked for it), almost as if he were trying to save his own through her.

Sometimes, he forgets that Mento's incident might not have been as cruel as his own. She didn't act with any exact malice, not like he did.

JIU -> MORI

Sees her as a deeply troubled girl. Her disturbing behavior is perfect for taking blame, to be painted as the villain, and he pities her as much as he feels disdain for her. He almost feels as if she's a physical manifestation of his insides, hostile and sharp and clawing at things until they weep (blood, tears or otherwise). He isn't as sympathetic with her as he is with Memento. He sees bits of himself in both, but with Memento it's a part of himself that he seeks to defend (the goodness in him that he swears is still there, the guilt that he tries so hard to justify) while with Mori it's the parts of himself that he despises (the more despicable side that makes him deeply uncomfortable to confront, something he tries to repress).

Despite this, he finds solidarity in her isolation and the distance she keeps between herself and Mento. He believes it's for the best.

para there is the widest smile on my face right now. i can feel it in my cheeks even when i'm not actually smiling. i love them too. . .

I'll do Memento's thoughts on Jioku here, just to keep with the weird parallels hehe

MEMENTO -> JIU

Memento is a little intimidated by Jiu but she admires him nonetheless. She recognizes, on some deeper level, that they have a kind of kinship between them and she admires him for being so much stronger than she is. She is especially nervous around him but in a idol/fan kind of way where she's just flustered whenever he acknowledges her. She feels like a burden to him and she's incredibly grateful for whatever time he spends with her, whatever acknowledgment she receives, because he is so busy and she is so annoying.

She wants to be like him when she gets older. She wants to be able to be level-headed and calm, cool and calculating, even if she knows that probably won't ever happen.

MEMENTO -> KIOKU

Kioku is one of Memento's favorite people at the garden. Kioku is so warm and bright and funny, Memento loves being around her and she is so grateful that Kioku spends any time with her at all because Memento doesn't really think of herself as worth anyone's time. Mento wants to become stronger so that she can keep up with Kio better but for now, she is happy just to bask in Kio's presence and laugh at Kio's jokes.

Secretly, Mento has a bit of a crush on Kio. Not like, a huge one, but her feelings for Kio definitely do extend into the romantic direction rather than just staying platonic. Mento isn't inclined to act on them, she is embarrassed by them, but she is happy just to be able to be in Kio's presence.

[fantasticallyfruity4]

Of all the stranger things boys Billy is the one who would have the hardest time with his scars.

For Eddie, his scars are fucking metal as hell. He thinks they’re so cool. He got into a fight with literal bats out of hell and lived to tell the tale. He’s proud as hell of those things, good luck getting that man to wear a real shirt. Crop top/cut off king from now on.

Steve… Steve’s indifferent to his physical scars. His emotional and mental scars are more taxing, not to be a bummer. But like he rlly doesn’t have much time to contemplate the bat bites on his ribs. It’s not something he worry’s about. he used to be so vain. now, he's very at peace with his body. its just a vessel, and frankly its been very good to him. he's survived demo dogs and bats and Russians. he's very thankful to his body, so he goes pretty easy on it when it comes to vanity and ego. (part of why he's so chill about his chest hair now).

But Billy…

Billy has pretty low fucking self esteem. It’s all an act with him, and he knows he fakes it well, but that's all it is. The machismo, the peacocking. He’s someone who sees a lot of- if not all of his own value in being attractive to other people. in being a good fuck. Not worth much more. the one thing he's good at is sweet talking people and getting in their pants. being hot, pretty. but now, now he's not those things (even if Steve and Eddie swear he's beautiful but he so much more than his appearance). he has these big scars on his chest like he had the worlds most botched autopsy. (‘real attractive’ he grumbles most days getting dressed, a sarcasm to his tone that Steve and Eddie beg to differ with. he wears a shirt alot more these days. long gone in the confident, save man in the low cut button downs. those days are behind him, he is far more covered up these days. Steve hates the billy rarely showers with both or either of them now, and Eddie hates the way billy shifts in his sleep desperately trying to get comfortable when he knows billy just can't sleep in a shirt, but refuses to be shirtless and have his scars perceived unless he absolutely must. when the shirt dint come off the first few times they were intimate after everything, neither man said a thing. and when it happens again from time to time, they don't either.)  sometimes the scars hurt too. they burn and get tight and pull and get sensitive to fabrics and the creams and bandages only do so much. and he's got a really fucked up head from that thing coming out of him, too. he's a little hard of hearing (he needs closed captions, “like im someones fucking grandpa” and sometimes he needs things repeated to him 2, 3 times, or he needs them even written out which he hates), and his head acts up sometimes. headaches that just don't quit and leave him throwing up and in bed all day (its called a migraine, honey. my mom gets them, they're a bitch. its okay, were gonna close these blinds and have us a nice lazy day”) he hates it all. he feels weak, like a little bitch, like a nutcase. 

the boys try so hard to protect him, to take care of him, to help. but even that In itself makes him fucking mad. he hates that this is his life, and that this is how he has to be.

they kiss his cheeks and shoulders and promise they love every inch of him, including and especially the mementos of his bravery, and he kinda likes how that sounds. he has a long far way to go to his old level of confidence, but with these two beside him its very possible. sometimes when you build something back up its better the second time around than the first anyway.

[royaltercets]

anyways i got 7 tattoos so far and the last one i made up my mind about after atsushis passing. i already had a buck-tick lyric on my arm but the other one, most recent one i got is a möbius ring which i wanted the moment i first got to know what it is, because they’re cool as hell, but it’s also a subtle nod to bran-new lover, and after being sick for a while i realized i can’t just… Not do shit because i’m scared of what will happen.

anyways here’s the tattoo when it was fresh, on my left outer leg right above the ankle. i have no healed photos lol. it tickled a lot more than the arm ones and also hurt more, not sure why:

also realized afterwards that memento mori is also a bit of a bt reference. which is funny because that part was unintentional ha

i wish i’d gotten to see them perform. especially atsushi. he will always be special to me—all of buck tick will, truthfully. their lyrics are very close to my heart. and on my arm… though i’m thinking of touching that tattoo up with some black ink as it’s red and for some reason doesn’t quite look as smooth as all my black ink tattoos do.

anyways, it basically says “yolo + stream bran new lover”, but in a more poetic and possibly slightly cryptic way and i think that’s fun

[teecupangel]

AltDes where they both find a wooden box when they were kids, finds out anything they put in it gets sent to the other so they send letters and things for the other and overall just being happy

To ensure that they won’t tell anyone about the box, the best time for them to find the box would be when Altaïr is eleven and Desmond is ten. And, to make sure that they can’t send something too large, the box itself would be as big as a ring box. Looks like a metal box without any opening and it only opens when they press their thumb on one of the sides.

To Altaïr, he acquired the box while he was looking over his father’s things after his death. When he opened the box, there was already a note inside it. He opened the note and it was written in the letters used by the Crusaders. The scholars in the master’s library had taught him how to read their alphabet and he had been learning new words with the books the scholars suggested he read so it was easy for him to read what the note said.

“I hate it here.”

Altaïr wasn’t sure what to think about this.

Did… did his father write this? Was this how he truly felt about their home?

About being an Assassin?

He knew that Al Mualim would be disappointed if he heard of this so he folded it back and returned it to the box, closing it quickly.

And keeping the box with him to make sure no one would find it.

It started out as a heavy weight around his neck but he got used to it soon enough. Saying it was a memento of his father was enough to stop anyone from suggesting he stop wearing it. And, he always made sure to wear it underneath his robes so it wouldn’t bother him during training. A night after grueling training, he opens the box once more to look at the small note.

He blinked when he saw that there were seven more different notes in the box now, all small enough that folding them together didn’t even fill the box. He picked all eight and only after unfolding each one does he realize that the original note is no longer there.

‘I hate training.’

‘Mom left again.’

‘It hurts. I want mom.’

‘Dad hates me because I’m weak.’

All other notes were blank and the last three notes he read were barely readable, blotches of ink marred with dry tears that almost washed away the ink. Altaïr’s heart began to beat faster.

This… this couldn’t be his father.

He doesn’t know who ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ were but the writing themselves…

Altaïr knew now that they were written by someone young… like him.

And lonely… like him.

Unsure of what else to do, he placed the eight notes inside his journal and ripped a page off his journal. He ripped it to be as small as the other notes before he deliberated on how to write. Considering the writings all were written in the crusaders’ way of writing, Altaïr decided to write the same way. It… it looked strange compared to the notes he had received but it would have to do.

He folded the note and placed it inside the box before closing it. He waited for three seconds or so before he opened the box.

The box was empty.

.

.

To Desmond, he found the box while he was out training, the kids doing their daily run around the forest that hid the Farm. He had been lagging behind and the other kids had stopped trying to tell him to keep up. Desmond would catch up sooner or later.

Desmond fully stopped once the kids were out of view, taking a deep breath as he stretched. He wasn’t necessarily tired but… well…

He just wanted to take a break.

There really was no reason for it.

…

There was really no reason for any of this anyway.

He sat on a nearby rock and frowned when he felt something protruding under his left foot. He lifted his foot and blinked when he noticed that something was sticking out of the ground. Curious (and pretty bored), Desmond dug the ground until he was able to take the box. Desmond thought it looked cool so he put it in his pockets and started to jog once more to catch up with the others before they return to the Farm.

A few days after he found the box, his entire body ached from that day’s training. Tears fell from his eyes but he refused to make a sound, not wanting his parents to find out. He took the box that he had hidden underneath his bed, taped to the frame. He was just rolling it around his hands, trying to distract himself when he pressed his thumb a little harder than usual and it opened. He blinked and found it empty.

Maybe he just wanted to vent.

Maybe he just… he wanted to confess the darkness that had started to get a hold of him.

He ripped a small piece from one of the pages of the notebook he got from his mom and just wrote ‘I hate it here’.

He folded it and put it inside the box then closed it. He took a deep breath and placed the box on his chest as he stared at the ceiling.

It felt nice.

Confessing.

Then the dread crept up on him.

What if his dad found out about this box? Saw what he had written?

Desmond panicked and opened the box again, planning to take the note out and thro-

…

…

It was empty.

Desmond tried to look for the note, wondering if it had fallen from the box but he didn’t find anything.

Out of curiosity (and maybe he did think this dumb idea of his might work), he placed the box on the floor to make sure anything that falls out of it could be easily seen and placed another ripped blank paper in the box. He shut it closed then opened it as soon as he could.

It was empty.

He lifted the box and looked around.

There was no paper.

Desmond’s lips curved into a grin.

He has a magic box.

He has a magic box!

He did the same experiment two more times just to be sure.

Each time, the blank paper disappeared.

It was a freaking magic box!

Anything he put inside would disappear.

And…

And…

Desmond used it to confess his secrets so they would disappear afterward.

Then…

A few months later...

Just when he was about to put another secret (‘I pet the guard dogs’) inside his magic box, he blinked when he saw a small piece of folded paper inside.

He… he was sure all of his secrets had disappeared.

He flipped the paper open and tilted his head.

It was a bit hard to read but he was sure the writing on the paper that was clearly not his said, ‘Hello. Did you get this message?’

Unorganized Notes (it was getting long):

Desmond and Altaïr start becoming pen pals. The smallness of the ring meant that they got creative with their folding and Altaïr learned how to mimic Desmond’s writing so he could write smaller.

Once Desmond realizes that Altaïr’s first language is Arabic, he suggests Altaïr writes in Arabic first then add a translation below it so Desmond could learn. Sometimes, Desmond tries to write in Arabic as well and he grins whenever Altaïr would add notes about his translation in his next letter.

They find out that anything they receive from the other that they put back in the box does not, in fact, return to the original sender. It just completely disappears. This means that Desmond’s ‘I hate it here’ that Altaïr had returned to the box disappeared.

They can only put small things in the box so Desmond usually sends Altaïr candies and other sweets that he can put inside (or break into smaller pieces). Altaïr would always feel bad because the smallest bread the bakery in Masyaf had were these small balls sometimes covered in honey. Desmond loved them so Altaïr try to get some regularly. The baker believes that Altaïr loves the bread so he always makes some for Altaïr.

Altaïr keeps the wrapper the candies had in a separate box, pressed between the pages of a book about the gods of Ancient Greece. Desmond keeps the flowers Altaïr sends him pressed in the notebook he got from his mom.

They do find out that they’re from different time period. Altaïr likes to read about the many things Desmond sees as mundane (like the fridge). They don’t really talk about Altaïr’s home because it always makes Desmond sad that they would never meet.

Desmond still runs away from the Farm. Because they don’t talk about Altaïr’s home, Desmond doesn’t know Altaïr is training to be an Assassin. Altaïr also doesn’t know that Desmond is training to be an Assassin and supported Desmond’s plan to run away because he knows how much Desmond hated that the Farm.

They continue to write to each other and send each other small gifts. Once Desmond got a job in Bad Weather, he would buy new candies and chocolates that he could send to Altaïr. Then he saw a small tube of toothpaste that’s for traveling and sent that too with a note to remind Altaïr to brush his teeth because of all the sweets he’d been sending. Altaïr is absolutely fascinated by the toothpaste and even asked Desmond to research it for him.

Desmond knows more things than canon in this one because Altaïr would request him to check stuff out. Mostly inventions Altaïr read from Desmond’s writings. Sometimes, weird information about things like what makes up the first iteration of toothpaste.

In the end, Desmond still gets captured by Abstergo but he had been wearing the box around his neck like Altaïr. He has an easier time synching with Altaïr but his first memory block didn’t end with Altaïr being stabbed. After Altaïr is stabbed by Al Mualim for his failures, the Animus glitches and loads a much earlier memory, ignoring Lucy and Vidic’s commands to stop.

It loads the first time Altaïr wrote to Desmond and only Desmond realized the importance of that memory.

Before the end of his imprisonment, Desmond nicked a few pages of the post-it notes from Vidic’s desk. He couldn’t find any pen or anything (they probably took out anything that could be used as a weapon… against them or on… well… Desmond wasn’t going to finish that thought). Left with no way to write, Desmond used his nail to leave an indentation on the post-it notes, knowing that Altaïr would figure it out. He… he needed to make sure… He placed three notes in the box and took a deep breath before he went to sleep.

As Desmond relived Altaïr’s memories of trying to find the traitor in Masyaf, his heart began to beat faster when he saw that Altaïr climbed the highest tower in Masyaf to sit there. Altaïr had told him about how he usually reads Desmond’s letters high up so no one could sneak behind him.

Altaïr frowned when he saw the blank colorful papers then he used his Eagle Vision. Desmond’s nail-written words glowed white and both Altaïr and Desmond could clearly read the paper. Distantly, he could hear Lucy tell Vidic that the Animus can’t properly load the message and that it was glitching too badly.

The first one read “Is it July 1191 now? If it is, wave your left hand twice right now.” and Altaïr was confused by it but he raised his left hand to wave it twice. He looked around and Desmond could feel Altaïr was trying to look for him or any sign left by Desmond.

Then Altaïr looked at the second paper and it read “Templars got me. I’m seeing your memories.”

The third paper says: “I’m seeing your memories of July 1191.”

That’s as far as I got. The idea is: Desmond and Altaïr use their ‘connection’ to change the past. Desmond doesn’t feel it at first then the ripples start showing the more he changes Altaïr’s past.

[txtniipped]

blue light therapy

persona 5 – ryuji/akira, ryuji & mishima

general (2742 words)

ao3 link

Ryuji pulls up chairs to the tv while Akira gets the disk into the player. Curtains get shut, shoes get kicked off, and the two boys land themselves into their respective chairs. "Ready?" Akira asks, his eyes peeking at Ryuji over the top of his glasses. Ryuji grins loosely at his friend as he tosses his arm over the back of his chair. "You know it." Akira grins back, and starts the movie.

“Yo, Mishima–" Ryuji hollers across the aisle of the video store, causing multiple people to look his way, including his intended target. "Have ya seen this one?”

“You really don’t need to be so loud,” Mishima nearly hisses at Ryuji as he steps over from the opposite side of the aisle.

"Didn't realize we're in a library."

Mishima huffs slightly in response, but does lift his hand to grab the cover of the movie Ryuji's holding to take a look at it–some sort of action movie Ryuji's never heard of. "Oh, this is a really good one!" Mishima looks up at him, his enthusiasm palpable. His eyes are practically shining as he speaks. "It's about this kid who got himself in trouble with this crime boss and has been trying to work his debt off for years and years. He finally pays it off at the same time he finds a girl he really likes, but he ends up having to–."

"Hey, hey," Ryuji interrupts, pulling the movie back from Mishima's grip. "Don't need the whole thing explained to me, man." He gives Mishima a little smile–the guy can be kinda sensitive about his enthusiasm. Ryuji does his best to avoid putting him out. "You said it's good?"

Mishima returns the smile with his own. It's a little shy, but it's a smile regardless. "Yeah. It's a little cheesy, but it's a good kind of cheesy, you know?" Ryuji hums, flipping the dvd over to glance at the back. "I hear ya." The synopsis seems interesting… A little more romantic sounding than Ryuji usually goes for. "...I'll keep it in mind." He puts the case back onto the shelf, genuinely taking a mental note of the title. 

Between the palaces and Mementos, school work (or at least the attempt of), and general Thieves activities, Ryuji hasn't really had the time to slow down and watch a movie recently. Plus, holing up in his room and popping a dvd in by himself seems so boring.. This is definitely more of a group activity-type movie. 

Who'd watch it with him though? Mishima seems obvious, since the guy clearly likes it. But he sounds like he'd just talk about fun facts the whole time. Hard pass. 

Second choice is Akira, but Akira's been so busy playing leader for the whole group… He always says he's happy to make time for Ryuji, but… is just watching a movie together worth the time? Mishima says it's good, but will Akira like it? Ryuji will feel so bad if he doesn't. Such a waste of time for the guy. He's so busy! But… wouldn't hurt to ask, he guesses. If anyone isn't gonna mind hanging out and not doing much with him, it'd be Akira.

For now, Ryuji tucks his hands into his pockets, and settles himself over Mishima’s shoulder to read the summary the guy is currently reading. …Maybe Akira would like this one too.

–

"So, uh…"

It's cloudy today. Gloomy as hell, actually, but Ryuji and Akira are out walking the streets of Yongen-Jaya anyway. Mona elected to stay back at Leblanc–in case it rained, he said.

"There's this movie I saw when I was hangin' out with Mishima at the rental place the other day."

"Mhmm."

Ryuji continues: "It seemed cool. He said he's seen it an' liked it 'n' everything. I'm not the biggest movie guy on my own, but I was wonderin' if, like… you'd wanna watch it some time?" Akira does that little laugh Ryuji likes–the one where he just huffs out his nose with a smile on his face. It's cute–charming. Uhh, endearing or whatever. Yeah.

"Let's go rent it."

"Wuh–now?!"

"Yeah. I have a membership."

Oh. "Okay," Ryuji answers lamely. Akira smiles at him. Ryuji smiles back, feeling a little lighter than before.

–

Movie in hand, the duo return to Leblanc about an hour or so later. They clamber through the cafe with a brief hello to Sojiro, then pop up the stairs in record time. Morgana shoots them both a scowl from his spot on the bed, but curls right back up anyway to continue his nap.

Ryuji's a little embarrassed to admit it, but he missed doing casual hangouts with Akira. Just the two of them (kinda), doing something for the hell of it just because they feel like it. It's nice. It's comfy.

Ryuji pulls up chairs to the tv while Akira gets the disk into the player. Curtains get shut, shoes get kicked off, and the two boys land themselves into their respective chairs.

"Ready?" Akira asks, his eyes peeking at Ryuji over the top of his glasses. Ryuji grins loosely at his friend as he tosses his arm over the back of his chair.

"You know it."

Akira grins back, and starts the movie.

–

The movie itself was pretty good, but the best thing about it–or really, about that whole day–was that it jump started a movie craze between Ryuji and Akira.

Akira's a busy guy, so they unfortunately can only watch something every other week or so. It's less than Ryuji necessarily would like, but it's certainly better than their almost non-existent hangouts they had fallen into before.

Not that Ryuji was put off by the lack of his friend hanging around him for non-phantom related stuff. He gets it. Akira's a cool guy, so he's busy with other people, like, all the time. This sudden shift in his schedule where Akira always clears the one night for just Ryuji is honestly so cool of him. They've had a great track record of watching good movies too–or at the very least, ones they've enjoyed, so Ryuji never feels guilty about taking up Akira's time.

Recently, someone dumped a whole box of dvds off at the second-hand shop by Leblanc. The owner sold the whole thing to them for dirt cheap. There's definitely a lot of stuff they don't really care about in there, but they found several movies with this same American comedian as the star. He's actually kinda great, though some of the movies have been better than others. When Akira busts out a dvd case from his bag with the usual guy on it though, Ryuji knows they're gonna have a good time.

–

Movie nights start dwindling as winter crawls in. They get busier than ever with the Phantom Thieves' stuff, so eventually movie night stops altogether. It's... not Ryuji's favorite, but it is what it is. The bright side is they're out here making a difference in the world, and if Ryuji's gotta sacrifice his usual hangout with his best friend for a while to make it happen, then it'll be worth it.

It's a nice surprise though when suddenly, after all the drama following Sae's palace, Akira approaches him again about it.

"I miss it," Akira admits from under his grey hood. They're walking around  Yongen-Jaya again, like they used to. Maybe Akira shouldn't be wandering around like this right now, but Ryuji knows how cooped up he feels stuck at Leblanc all the time. 

"Let's do it then!" Ryuji grins at him, maybe a touch too wide. He's excited, and maybe a little desperate to relieve his best friend of his stress, even if it's just for a couple of hours. "We can go to my place, if you want."

Akira looks at him then, tucked under his hood. He looks tired, especially with the deep bags resting under his eyes. Regardless, the smile Akira pulls onto his face is so, so soft. Ryuji's cheeks color, but in this moment, he doesn't care. He's entirely focused on his best friend. 

"I'd like that," Akira says, his tone just as soft as his smile.

"C-cool," Ryuji responds immediately, which only makes his face brighter. Akira laughs lightly, causing Ryuji to shoot a grin his way. 

Akira smiles back.

–

“Sorry about it bein’ so messy.”

Dirty shirts lay on Ryuji's bed and floor, clearly tossed off without a care for where they land. A few shoe boxes rest in various spots, mostly tucked up against furniture, with a lucky box actually having both shoes resting on top. The others only have one, if at all, with the other shoe resting nearby. The latest manga Ryuji's been reading sits open on the floor, its spine most definitely creased as a sacrifice for keeping Ryuji's place. In the center of it all, Akira stands, another one of those content smiles on his face he seems to like wearing so much. 

“I don’t mind.” Akira says, all low and soft and patient.

“I do!” Morgana calls as he leaps up onto the bed, stomping his little kitty paws into the comforter as he tries to find a spot to claim.

The cat decided to tag along with them, stating he had to make sure Akira got home safe afterwards. Ryuji knows it’s really because the cat wanted a change of scenery himself, but he could never call Mona out on it without starting a fight.

Ryuji rolls his eyes at Morgana as the cat finally finds a worthy spot on the bed. Akira tosses Ryuji another smile and a shrug, then pulls the dvd he's been keeping in his jacket.

It's the animated movie they had talked about watching next, the last time they did this. Something about firefighters and arsonists who end up on the same side to fight a greater evil.

A grin overtakes Ryuji's face as a warmth blossoms in his chest. Akira will always and forever be the most thoughtful guy Ryuji knows–who remembers stuff like that? Especially from so long ago.

Ryuji grabs his laptop off his nightstand. The thing's old and definitely needs to be replaced, but it does have a dvd tray, thus it gets the honor of spending its old age in Ryuji's care til the thing kicks the bucket. He sits down with it after, just right there on the floor, and boots it up as Akira pulls his jacket off, tossing it on the bed.

"Surprised that thing's still running," Akira comments as he sits himself down, taking his usual spot near the bed so he can lean against it.

Ryuji chuckles, tossing a glance towards Akira as the laptop loads. "I know. I'm hopin' it can last til after I graduate."

"If it doesn't–" Akira hands over the dvd once Ryuji motions for it– "I'm sure Futaba has a spare lying around."

Ryuji gets the movie loaded in, popping the tray back into the laptop, then sets the thing down on the floor, far enough away that they won't be kicking it, but close enough that they can both see. He pulls himself back after that, taking his spot next to his best friend there against the bed. 

The movie begins to play.

–

Ryuji jumps awake as something thumps against his shoulder. He fell asleep–obvious enough by the way his shoulders and behind hurt from the bed and floor respectively–and it seems he wasn't the only one.

Akira's upper arm is pressed fully against Ryuji's, with the guy's head tossed back on the mattress. He's completely out, and his position leaves his glasses dangerously close to falling off. The position also leaves Akira's face incredibly close to Ryuji's.

The realization colors Ryuji's cheeks, causing the teen to snap his head away from Akira. Ryuji shifts, fishing out his phone from his pocket, closest to his friend. The screen lights up his face, causing Ryuji to wince from the brightness. He angles the screen away from Akira, just managing to catch a glimpse of the time despite the weird angle.

It's nearly midnight–definitely later than either of them had planned. There's no way he's sending his friend home this late. Especially not when Ryuji knows Akira's been having a rough time relaxing lately. Waking him up feels like it should be criminal.

…But sleeping sitting up like this cannot be great for your body. Ryuji sighs softly, then turns his head slightly towards his friend.

"Akira," he calls, keeping his voice quiet. He'd love to avoid the sharp wrath of the nearby cat if he can help it.

No response.

Damn.

"Akira," Ryuji calls again, a touch louder this time. Again, there's no response, so Ryuji puts his phone down and pulls his body away from Akira, fully turning towards him. He reacts in time to catch Akira from falling to the floor, though his hands landing on Akira's upper arms has the added effect of jostling the teen awake.

Akira lifts his head from its spot on the mattress to look at Ryuji, blinking slowly as he processes the situation. He locks eyes with Ryuji, then smiles that damn smug smile. Ryuji can feel his cheeks heating up in anticipation.

"They're nice, right?"

Ryuji immediately pulls his hands from Akira's arms, his face flaming as he sits back. Akira laughs all low again, the noise really rubbing salt into Ryuji's wound. How dare his brain like that noise right now.

"Movie's over," Ryuji announces, standing up. Akira yawns, pulling his glasses from his face so he can rub at his eyes.

"What time is it?"

Ryuji pulls on the drawstring overhead, clicking on the light. The whole room is bathed in a yellow hue, breaking the peace. He sees Mona curl up tighter.

"11:38ish," Ryuji answers, returning his attention to Akira.

Akira blinks up at him, then returns his glasses to his face. He pushes himself up to stand, causing Ryuji to step back a tad to give him the space.

"Well, I guess we should go then."

"What?" Ryuji immediately responds, following it with a scoff. "Dude, it's almost midnight. I'm not sending you home–the trains aren't gonna be runnin' by the time you get to 'em."

Akira blinks at Ryuji again, and it's this time Ryuji realizes it's a quirk of the guy being so sleep deprived. He's processing the situation. Probably.

"Oh."

Ryuji snorts, leaning down to close his laptop. "Yeah. So just stay here." He stands back up, looking at Akira again. "You can take my bed."

Akira looks away from Ryuji to look at the bed. Morgana lies smack in the middle of it, either very deeply asleep, or very determined to look like it. A small smile quirks up the corner of Akira's lip. Ryuji coughs into his fist, a slight blush playing on his cheeks.

"Where are you gonna sleep?" Akira returns his attention to Ryuji, once again pulling his glasses off. It's for good this time–the teen folds them up and places them on the nightstand. "The couch." "I can sleep–."

"No," Ryuji cuts Akira off. "My ma would wake you up when she leaves. An' I've slept out there before. Just take the bed, man."

Akira smiles softly at him, defeated. Ryuji's stomach does a little flip.

"Okay."

Ryuji nods, clearing his throat. "Well, I'll leave ya to it." He steps away from his friend, heading over to the door. He pauses though, turning back around as he realizes he needs sleeping clothes. And maybe Akira does too. 

"Do you want some sweats?" he asks as he diverts course to his closet.

Akira pauses, then smiles once again. "Sure."

Ryuji does his best not to let any of the empty figure boxes he's just shoved into the closet come tumbling out as he opens the door. Once it seems fine, Ryuji wastes no time in locating his comfiest sweats for Akira. They're grey, with teal and white stripes lining the outside seam. Nice and plush fabric too, without being super heavy. Those get tossed over to Akira, then Ryuji grabs some old, tatty purple ones for himself. They kinda match his jacket.

"Thanks," Akira says to him once the closet door is securely closed, the teen taking a seat on the bed.

Ryuji nods again, then walks over to the door, for real this time. "I'll see you in the morning," he says as he pulls it open.

"Mhm."

Ryuji steps out, turning himself around so he can close the door. He lifts his gaze to Akira, who looks back with that soft smile curled on his face again. That smile turns into something a touch more smug after a moment. Ryuji's face colors. He's been staring. 

"N-night, man."

"Night, Uji."

Ryuji closes the door, his face burning.