#but it’s also such an interesting aspect of his character it floors me all the time ….
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thinking abt kenny and his anti-neet agenda
#it’s soooo funny how he was constantly like. Fuck Tengen In Particular#but it’s also such an interesting aspect of his character it floors me all the time ….#the fact that what he hates more than anything is. the kind of person who gives up without trying. that learned helplessness#he hates tengen because they hid themselves away for all their centuries of living. chose to look away from the world of curses#while kenjaku has lived in that world for thousands of years now and continues to interact with it… and the people in it…..#and it’s also so obvious when you remember the characters kenjaku is most positive towards in the manga. he likes takaba. he likes yuki.#yuji too…..#all people who refuse to give up even when they’ve been knocked down a hundred times#yuki who uses her last strenght to create a fucking black hole… takaba who vows to make kenjaku laugh even after losing faith in himself#and yuji who never stops coming back from the dead. from the brink of insanity. yuji who tries again and again and again#i think kenjaku loves human resilience more than anything#hhhh. he really is my favorite…… gege ill never forgive u for fumbling him pls remember that .#ari noises ✩
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I had an idea for a Post canon merthur AU!!
I don't know if you have seen Sakura Card Captor? Well, there is a character called Yukito that has double personality/two alter egos. One that is a regular human being with sunshine personality called Yukito and the other that is a literal Angel/powerful creature that is cold and merciless called Yue. The interesting thing about this character is that, while Yue is aware that Yukito exists and can access to Yukito's memories, Yukito doesn't have the same privilege. Yukito, as far as he knows, he is just a regular teen student that sometimes has mental gaps.
So I wondered, what if Merlin, due to all the trauma he went through or maybe through a spell he did to himself, splited his personality in two so he could handle the long wait for Arthur's return better? One would be Emrys, the most powerful sorcerer that ever lived that also incarnates the worst aspects of him, basically Dark Merlin in all his glory, and the other one would be a Merlin without his memories, ergo, without all his traumas, his personality would be series 1 innocent Merlin, but this Merlin doesn't have magic (or rather he has it, but is blocked) and he thinks he is a common mortal man.
So one night Arthur finally returns and it's Merlin who finds him when he comes out of the lake (Emrys made sure Merlin always lived close to the lake). Of course, he's startled an somewhat scared but a feeling inside him urges him to help this stranger. The man is wearing a knight armor and talks old english for some reason. (Merlin never thought his extra studies in old english that he took for fun would actually come on handy). The man only says nonesense as he helps him out of the lake and takes him to his home thought. Apparently the stranger firmly believes he is King Arthur and that he is Merlin the wizard. He has to repeat him several times that he isn't, but they do share the name though.
Merlin: (gives Arthur a change of clothes and says in old english) Here. These are the biggest clothes I have. They might fit you and I put some blankets on the couch for you to sleep.
Arthur: (doesn't take the clothes and just stares at him)...
Merlin: (thinking he didn't speak the language correctly) I said-
Arthur: (heartbroken) You really don't remember me, do you?
Merlin: (sighs) No. I don't know you. I'm sorry.
Arthur: (almost desperate) You do! I don't know what they did to you or what happened to this place, but I'm going to figure it out. I promise!
Merlin: (smiles) Sure you will. (Thinks) He must have some mental affliction, poor man. (Says as he leaves the clothes on the couch) I'll get you some hot chocolate. (Makes a move to go to the kitchen, but has a sudden headache and faints)
Arthur: Merlin! (Runs and catches him before he hits the floor, worried) Merlin, are you alright? Please, wake up! Merlin (shakes him)
Emrys: (opens his eyes that are glowing gold) My king (his eyes water) You are back. (Craddles Arthur's face)
So Emrys explains his condition to Arthur and also that 1500 years have passed and there's probably a catastrophy coming their way since Arthur is now back and all. Obviously, it's a lot to process for Arthur and he doesn't take it all well at first, but he calms down and accepts everything eventually. Arthur can't help but notice this version of Merlin,despite crying for him at the beginning, seems void of emotion most of the time.
Emrys does a spell on Arthur so he can speak modern english and tells him he will switch back to being Merlin soon.
Emrys: (serious) You can tell him you were delirious due to almost drowning or that you had some mental affliction. He already believes that anyways.
Arthur: I'm not going to lie to him, Merlin.
Emrys: I'm not Merlin. He IS Merlin and he's not going to believe you are King Arthur.
Arthur: Why can't you stay like this?
Emrys: I'm too dangerous when I'm in control for too long. Merlin is harmless and can actually be your friend.
Arthur: You are my friend!
Emrys: (coldly) No, Arthur. I'm your weapon, your protector at best, but nothing more.
Arthur: I don't believe that!
Merlin: Believe what you want. (Turns his back to Arthur)
Arthur: And I won't lie to him either!
Merlin: Tell him what you want (Eyes glowing, about to switch)
Arthur: Mer-I mean Emrys! (Stops him by holding his arm and Enrys turns to him) When will I see you again?
Emrys: When I'm needed or when you call me. Don't abuse though. Merlin might get suspicious if he has too many mental gaps. (Switchs back to Merlin and faints again)
Arthur: (catches him before he hits the floor) This better not become an habit.
Time goes by. Merlin still believes Arthur is crazy, but at least he speaks english now. Merlin does find strange the Arthur has no document, nor he is register in the sistem apparently. Merlin doesn't have the heart to get this "King Arthur" out of his house though, since he clearly has no where to go so Merlin lets him stay. Not for free of course, he makes Arthur help with the cleaning and stuff and doesn't stand for prat behavior when Arthur acts all kingly.
Arthur gets why Emrys told him this Merlin was his Merlin despite him not having his memories or his magic. He is clumsy, he jokes, he smiles, calls him out when he's being mean, but also is there for him when he needs him. Is the Merlin he knew but more... happy. Without burdens of destiny or traumas of the past.
Meanwhile Emrys just appears when they are investigating or when there is danger coming their way, like a magical creature attack or a car Arthur failed to see when he crossed the street. Emrys never smiles or small talks, he just goes to the point and gets the job done. He is dark, but overall he is... broken.
Arthur heart eaches when he realises... he is the one who took Merlin's light. He was the one who broke him.
And that's all I have for now. I don't know how merthur would get together in this AU. What do you think?
#bbc merlin#merlin bbc#merlin#merthur#merlin prompt#merlin and arthur#arthur and merlin#merthur prompt#my merthur prompts
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𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 | 𝓒𝓛16
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
series summary: Kika and Pierre invite you to their engagement party where you meet her and Pierre’s friends from F1, specifically, a certain handsome Monegasque driver.
chapter summary: You and Charles stay up talking about your dreams, fears, insecurities, and things that haunt your mind when you're alone.
chapter warnings: vvv emotional, feminism (oh no! jk), derogatory remarks, swearing, mental health, mentions of death (herve, jules, tonio)
playlist: ♫ gorgeous ♪ delicate ♬ i think he knows ♡ you are in love
author's note: Part 2 means we're halfway there!! For this chapter, I focused on the delicate's chorus to show the more vulnerable and "human" side of the characters. I will add the other aspects of the song to the following chapters. I also wrote this in a different style but I hope u guys like it. <333 Lastly, thank you all so much for almost 500 likes on the first chapter. ·°՞(≧□≦)՞°·. screaming! crying!
word count: 3.5k
disclaimer: All characters and events in this story, even those based on real people, are entirely fictional.
𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞
01:57 ━━━━●───── 03:52 ⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ılıılıılıılıılıılı ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮
The light beamed into your eyes from the window, intensifying the pounding in your head and increasing your thirst. As you opened your eyes, you squinted against the brightness, gradually adjusting to the sudden flash. Sensing movement beside you, you turned around to find Charles sleeping shirtless beside you. Memories of the previous night flooded back, replaying in your mind.
Before leaving the party with Charles, you looked for Kika to inform her of your departure. Seeing Charles waiting for you near the elevator, phone in hand, she expressed concern with a worried expression. Charles had recently ended a three-year relationship, and his ex happened to be the best friend of his previous ex. Kika was well aware of Charles' red flags, as she knew you, her dear friend Y/N, were known for wholeheartedly loving and falling hard for others who often failed to appreciate you as you deserved.
“Please be careful,” She smiled at you to which you nodded. She watched as you approached Charles and he smiled upon seeing you. As you waved farewell to Kika, she softly whispers to herself, “with each other’s hearts.”
You and Charles found yourselves seated on the floor of your hotel room's living room, uncomfortable party clothes off, cozy hoodies on, and legs crossed, with a spread of chips, beer, and mini alcohol bottles laid out before you. During your conversation, you discovered your shared value of family, discussing the strong relationships you both had with your loved ones.
"Are you close to your mom?" It was a question you always asked the guys you were interested in. You believed that a man who had a good relationship with his mother would treat his partner with love and respect. Although it didn't always turn out to be true, you still posed the question.
"Yeah, the first thing I do when I return to Monaco is visit her. You know, she's the only one I trust to cut my hair?" Charles smiles warmly, reminiscing about his mom. "You see, she's a professional hairdresser. So, sometimes when she watches me on TV, she'll send me a text saying I need a haircut. I just reply with her flight details to come see me, and we laugh about it, but she still comes over. That's why I've never had a bad haircut!"
"That is adorable! How often does she visit and watch your races?" You ask, eager to know more about his mother.
"Well, not as often as I'd like, that's for sure. She usually accompanies Arthur to his races."
"Races? He races too?"
"Yeah, he competes in Formula 2. Sometimes the Formula 1 and 2 races coincide on the same weekends so I get to see them both." You're momentarily taken aback. Wow, they must be RICH rich!
"Formula 2? How many Formulas are there?!" You exaggerate.
"Just three, cheri," he chuckles. "You know, my dad used to race in Formula 3 back in the '90s."
"So, it runs in the family, huh? What does your dad do now?" You inquire, looking down and grabbing a chip. The room falls into an unexpected silence, and you glance up, noticing a soft and melancholic expression on his face.
"Well, actually, I lost my dad seven years ago," he replies, offering a tight-lipped smile.
"Oh, Charles! I’m sorry, I had no idea..." Shock overtakes you, and you instinctively cover your mouth with your hand. Is that why he’s only been talking about his mom and brothers the whole night?
He interrupts, "No, it's okay. I think I’m getting used to talking about it. You know, they always interview me about their deaths. Sometimes I feel like they don't truly respect them, or me, and they just want me to talk about them for views and content."
"Deaths?" You're taken aback, struggling to comprehend the weight of his words.
"Yeah, over the past seven years, I've lost three important people in my life. My dad, my godfather Jules, and one of my best friends, Tonio."
"Charles, I'm so sorry to hear that. How have you been coping?" Rising from the floor, you move closer to him, placing a comforting hand on his thigh.
"Sometimes I find myself spiraling into these depressive episodes where I just want to close off my heart. Because if you close your heart, no new people can enter, only to leave again." He looks away, his eyes welling up with tears. Your expression softens, and he musters a small smile in your direction. He continues, his voice filled with emotion, "I've tried it before, but I realized that it doesn't make anything easier. These days, I just choose to remember them for who they were, their lives, their dreams, and the sacrifices they made for me to be where I am today."
You were taken aback at Charles’ maturity. The mere thought of losing someone dear to your heart was overwhelming, and here he was, having experienced the loss of not just one, but three significant people in his life. You couldn't help but admire him for getting through his hardships and finding happiness in the time he shared with them. Especially since he uses it as motivation to be a better person.
As your conversation continued, you decided to shift to a lighter topic in an attempt to lift Charles' spirits. You shared stories of performing in numerous countries, while Charles recounted his experiences racing in Formula 1 events across the globe. You laughed at how unfamiliar you were with his sport, just as he was with your music.
He asks if you have your phone with you.
"Um, it's somewhere around here," you respond while searching for it. Eventually, you spot it on the kitchen counter. "Why?"
"Just open Apple Music or Spotify, whichever you prefer," he says with a mischievous grin as you sit back down in front of him. You nod and show him that Apple Music is open.
"Now search for my name," he instructs, and you type his name, discovering that he is listed as an 'artist'. There’s no way…
"Charles Leclerc Artist? How are you an artist?" you raise an eyebrow at him and glance back at your phone. You notice that he has released two songs in the past year.
He laughs at your confusion. "Well, Ms. Grammy singer, I also play the piano. I wrote these songs last year and finished them around the time of the Australian GP and the Miami GP, which is why they're named AUS23 and MIA23."
You're shocked, your mouth hanging open dramatically as you listen to the songs. Charles laughs at your reaction. You didn't think he could become any more attractive, and now he surprises you with this. Could he be the incarnation of your dream man?
"That's amazing! I guess I know who to call when I need help with a song," you wink at him, and he chuckles.
"No, no. You're at least 100 times better than me. I don't have as much talent as you do to write lyrics for the music," he praises you.
“Okay, since you know a bit about my art and making a song and all that, I, on the other hand, have no fucking idea about Formula 1. Like, why do you have to travel all around the world and race on different tracks? Is it like some kind of world tour?" You burst into laughter at your own humorous analogy, and Charles, who was as intoxicated as you, finding it amusing as well.
“Do you really want to understand it?” You nod at his question as he sits up straight and stretches his head and hands, “warming up” to explain.
"You see, every race weekend is different. Let’s say you do Plan A for this weekend, sometimes it works, and we get podium. But sometimes despite our best efforts, it doesn’t. So, after the race, we talk about what went right and what went wrong and then we make a new plan for the next race. Do you understand so far?”
You nod at him. Though a slight confusion still lingered in your mind, you couldn't help but be captivated by the passion radiating from his every word. The way his eyes sparkled, and his voice exuded genuine excitement revealed the depth of his love for his job. In that moment, you realized that this wasn't merely a profession to him; it was a true calling, a relentless pursuit of excellence that fueled his spirit.
"I still don’t understand. Maybe being there and watching it firsthand can help me. What do you think?" you playfully suggest, winking at Charles as you extend your legs onto his lap. He responds by grabbing your leg with his left hand and dramatically clutching his heart with his right, feigning a heart attack. "Oh, amour, the thought of you in red."
As your connection deepened, you both began to open up and share parts of yourselves that were usually kept hidden. You spoke honestly about your doubts, worries, and the overwhelming thoughts that haunted you when you were alone.
"Can I ask you something?" you inquire, looking up at him.
"Go ahead," he replies, grabbing a chip and taking a bite.
"Have you read about me? Like on the internet, in articles or magazines?"
"I see the headlines, but I don’t really read them, so let's just go with a 'no,'" he says, wiping the salt and dust from his hands. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, I’m sure I already know your answer, but doesn't it bother you sometimes, the things they write about you?" you question, and he nods, encouraging you to continue. "It's just that they always make comments about my personal life, especially with the people I choose to be with."
"Yeah, well, those people's lives are so miserable that they have nothing better to do than try to ruin ours," he jokes, attempting to lighten the mood, and you find yourself laughing.
You glance down at your lap, your hands fidgeting as you gather your thoughts, when Charles interrupts, taking your hand. "Hey, I know it sucks, but I think it's something that comes with success. It bothers me too when they do that to me. Look, I won't pretend to fully understand what you're going through because I know I don't."
You look up at him, puzzled. "Do you remember earlier at the party when you arrived before me? When your car pulled up at the restaurant, they went crazy. Now, I've been in front of cameras since I was a kid, and I know a thing or two about paparazzi, but I've never seen fame like yours before. They were taking so many pictures of you that it didn't even look like flashes anymore, it’s like someone had switched on a blinding light for those few seconds you walked from your car to the door."
"I couldn't really see you because of the crowd, but when I heard them shouting your name, it just made sense. Don't tell the engaged couple, but I'm 100% sure you were the best thing at the party. " he winks at you. "But still, that doesn't make it okay. The reason they act like that is because they are taking advantage of your popularity. They think that getting a good picture of you, or a story, out of you or even something they made up, is big money.”
You’ve thought of this before, the way they treat you is different from other celebrities, but you hesitated to bring them up, fearing it would make you appear arrogant. It was a nice change to discuss about your life, popularity and the challenges that come with it, and to be met with Charles' honest and genuine response. You look back at the times you talked about this with a partner, and how they dismissed your concerns, labeling you as ungrateful, overreacting, or even a drama queen. The contrast in reactions causes you to appreciate Charles' maturity, understanding and support.
Despite your seemingly different lives, his centered around sports, yours with music, your personalities and passion for your respective crafts and families made you remarkably similar. With every word exchanged, the infatuation between you grew stronger.
So, at 4 am, while leaning against the balcony of your hotel room, a comfortable silence settled between you.
“I’m going to be honest with you, I’ve never experienced this before.” Charles says softly. “Staying up at this hour and talking about my life and the shit I go through to a girl I’ve only met for 8 hours now. It makes me feel like I want to tell you my whole life. It feels…” He trails off, a loss for words.
“I get what you mean. I never thought we would have a lot in common, especially since from the outside, it looks like we’re living different lives. But it looks like we're not so different after all.”
“Y/N, I know it’s too soon because we’ve only just met but I really want to get to know you better.” He faces you and draws himself closer. His green eyes pierce your Y/E/C eyes, he smiles genuinely at you.
As you gaze at him, your heartbeat quickens. You can’t tell if this is real life because you’re experiencing emotions you’ve never felt before. Here stands a guy who is caring, grounded, and by the way, absolutely gorgeous, and he is genuinely interested in getting to know you. Your thoughts waver back and forth, questioning whether this is okay. Is it cool that I’ve shared everything in my mind with him? Is it chill that he’s in my head?
Your mind and heart go into battle. Think! After all, you've only known this person for eight hours! Eight hours, Y/N! On the other hand, what if this is actually okay? Could this be the story of you meeting "the one"? Or your soulmate?
You tried to find a compromise.
Blushing, you gazed up at him and agreed, “I feel the same way. But can we take it slow? I never like to rush things, especially relationships.”
He nods and hugs you from behind. “Is this alright?”
You hummed and you both stayed there, watching the stars and the beautiful view of Florence.
You didn’t want the night to end, and you couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to him right now. So you tried to make up excuses for him to stay. “But, you know, it’s too dangerous to drive at this hour.”
“Cheri, there is no such as thing as a time that is too dangerous to drive.” He chuckles at your cuteness. “Plus, I’m a Formula One driver, I think I can handle myself.”
“No, you can’t because we just finished doing shots like three hours ago! And what if other drunk people are driving around too?”
Charles lightly laughs at your stubbornness. He knows you’re too prideful to just tell him to stay the night, especially after you both agreed to keep things slow. He sees you avoiding his gaze, so he addresses you, “Y/N.”
As you looked up, he smiled at you and gently holds your chin and locking eyes. "Je suis folle de toi.” he uttered.
Confused, you smiled in anticipation, knowing he had likely said something sweet. Seconds later, he translated himself, the proximity between your faces nearly undoing you. "I am crazy about you.”
...
Carefully locating your phone, you closed the bedroom door behind you. Retrieving two water bottles from the mini fridge in the kitchen, you settled on the couch in the living room of your hotel suite, resting your legs on the coffee table.
You check your messages and there were some from Kika, and your management team. Kika texted you and said to meet her for brunch at 11. Though, with a Monegasque driver in your bed, you don’t know when you can leave, so you move on to the other conversations, keeping in mind that you reply to her soon.
Your management team’s group chats were asking where you are and who you were hanging with. You read their earlier messages and saw that there are articles and pictures of you and Charles leaving the party last night. You open your Twitter account and see the two of you are trending. Of course, we are.
You scrolled through the tweets and some fans were happy, some were not, some just... don't have any opinion. And you prefer the latter. Reading the tweets of the fans was one thing, but the way the media and articles talked about you was different. It's like they didn't have respect you.
The articles get to you, Why is there so much scrutiny around my dating life? They called you a serial dater, manipulator, etc., even creating "warnings" about you for Charles; saying you're just gonna break his heart and write a song about him.
You furrow your brow, wondering why they single you out like this and why other women aren't subjected to the same level of scrutiny. It's frustrating because they never say these things about other people, especially men in the industry who engage in similar dating behaviors. Your male friends in the industry can date different people or even cheat and sing about it without raising any eyebrows. But when it comes to you, the accusations fly.
When they accuse you of "jumping" from one relationship to another, they label you a player or claim you cheated. If you choose to casually date without exclusivity, they call you a slut. It never ends. Where do they expect me to stand? When will it all just stop?
You start to question whether the people you want to be with have seen what has been written about you and if your reputation, which may be based on something fake, can affect the real connections you might make. You begin to ponder the significance of it all and how much weight a reputation actually carries.
It's unfair. Your personal life should be yours alone, and people should mind their own business. If this is the price you pay for sharing your music and being famous, you want no part of it anymore. It feels like they don't respect you as a human being.
Hot tears stream down your face as your thoughts consume you, overwhelming you completely. Seeking solace, you sink from the couch to the floor, resting your chin on your knees. It's a familiar position, offering some comfort when you're feeling low. The grounding sensation reminds you that you're still here.
Unbeknownst to you, Charles already woke up and was also reading messages from his team. He was about to greet you when he heard you sniffling. He slowly opens the door and sees you on the ground, knees to your chest, crying. Suddenly, he understands the pain you're going through. He felt awkward. He didn't know whether to comfort you or pretend to go back to bed.
But Charles can't resist the sight of your shattered state. He pushes the door open fully and gazes at you, broken and vulnerable. His heart shatters alongside yours. Slowly, he approaches and sits in front of you, taking in the magnitude of your pain. You're startled, having forgotten he was sleeping in the other room. You wonder if he knows what you're crying about, if he's seen the internet already, but the thought pushed back behind your head when a pair of warm, gentle hands cups your face, thumbs trying to wipe away your tears.
"What's wrong, mon ange?" he asks softly.
"Everything. The things they say about me... they're so mean. They're ruining my name, my reputation..." You manage to utter between sobs.
"Shh.. I know, cheri. But I don't care about what they write, alright? I want to know you. The real you." He comforts you. Running his hand up and down your arm as you find solace in his comforting embrace.
For the next ten minutes, you pour your heart out to him, releasing your pent-up emotions. When Charles senses that you had calmed down, he fetches the water bottle from the table and hands it to you. You finish it in one go.
"Feeling a little better now?" He offers, his considerate nature shining through. You smile and nod, appreciating his thoughtfulness.
"Have you eaten anything yet?" he asks, showing his concern for your well-being. You shake your head for a no.
“Do you feel like going downstairs, or should we order room service?" Going for a walk would be refreshing, and it might help improve your mood, but given that you've just bared your soul to him, you don't feel like going out. More importantly, you remember that you'll encounter numerous people and potentially face unwanted attention when you're seen again with Charles.
"We? You don't have to stay here with me. I feel better already." You face him, pulling away from his embrace. You instantly regret it as you start to feel cold already, missing the warmth of his body against yours.
"And I'm not leaving until you feel your best again. So, restaurant or room service?" He asks again. God, he is even more hot when he's stern... and caring about my well-being, of course.
Considering your current state, you prefer the comfort of staying within the confined space of your room, cuddled up next to him. "Room service, please."
↠ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#f1#formula 1#ferrari#charles leclerc imagine#f1 fic#cl16#cl16 x reader#charles leclerc x y/n#pierre gasly#francisca kika gomes#gorgeous#taylor swift#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fanfiction#f1 imagine#f1 imagines#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 fluff#f1 fanfiction#f1 fanfic#⋆。°✩#crueisummer works
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Acotar characters; "you're staring" "you're beautiful"
Summary: ACOTAR characters + Twitter trend "you're staring" "you're beautiful"
Warnings: Moderately inaccurate political economy information, I think that's it (let me know if I missed anything)
Author's Note: Okay, I had a lot of fun writing this, hope you enjoy!
Rhysand
Ruling a court comes with various responsibilities, including dealing with accounting. Deciding how much money goes into each aspect, where there will be investments or cuts, handling the demand for buying and selling prices, export profits, and import expenses – these are the matters a High Lord has to deal with.
And Rhysand hates it; he dislikes mathematics, numbers, and especially thinking about all the headaches that economics brings him. That's why, when we got married and he made me his High Lady to reign by his side, I volunteered to handle that part – the part he disliked but I enjoyed.
So, while Rhysand deals with the political aspects that don't interest me, I handle the ones that don't interest him. We often work together, despite having separate offices. We also have a shared one because, even though we sometimes prefer working alone, most of the time, we choose to work together, not only to spend time together but also to enjoy each other's company and deal with any situation requiring the other's opinion.
"I think we should invest more in the export of artistic materials," I say to him, standing on the plush rug in the office, papers scattered on the floor from where I was previously sitting. I've analyzed these two specific papers in my hands for several minutes, pacing back and forth until reaching this conclusion.
"Well, we could do that, but the demand would increase, and we'd have to invest in structures for mass production of materials," he murmurs in response, not lifting his head from his stack of papers, filled mostly with reports from spies and armies.
"Urgh, okay, let me look into that," I crouch down, sitting on my heels as I shuffle through the scattered papers on the floor, searching for specific ones.
I make a satisfied noise when I find what I need, also grabbing a pen and starting to scribble some calculations and values on a blank sheet. Information here, consequences there, trying to find the best way to expand the Night Court's export market.
Rhys's pen stops, and I glimpse a movement from the corner of my eye, but I'm too focused on what I'm writing. I search for another paper, Mother, I should start organizing myself better. I lean to reach it, using the values there to compare with the ones I noted down, another paper comes to my hand, and my head is filled with numbers, values, and variations.
At some point, my concentration begins to wane because I feel eyes piercing my side. Perhaps my partner is trying to hint that my murmurs are bothering him, or maybe he wants to say something and is waiting for the right moment.
I put the papers back on the floor and look at him. Contrary to what I imagined, he's leaning back in his chair, a smirk on his lips, and his arms crossed over his chest. He doesn't look away or say anything, so I make a face and go back to shuffling my papers, still feeling the burn of his gaze on me.
"Rhysand, love, you're staring," I murmur, starting to stack the papers I had spread all over the floor, attempting a fake organization. I hear the sound of his chair scraping on the floor, and I look up to see him in front of me, crouching to be at the same height as me.
The smile on his face grew. "You're beautiful, dear, especially when dealing with all this math," he murmurs, and his hands cup my cheeks, his thumb caressing my face.
"Well, someone has to do the hard work, don't they?" I reply playfully, mirroring his smile. Rhysand leans in, kissing my lips, then my nose, forehead, and finally my cheeks. He continues planting various kisses all over my face, and I'm laughing by the end when he pulls away, looking at me with a loving gaze.
My laughter slowly fades, but the smile remains on my face. "You're my clever and beautiful little thing, dear," he murmurs, planting a final, very slow kiss on my forehead.
Cassian
Waking up early is one of the things highlighted on my list of things I hate and prefer not to do. My routine has always been organized with the goal of waking up as late as possible without disrupting my responsibilities.
And this routine worked perfectly until Cassian and I started living together, and he decided that my routine was somewhat unhealthy, insisting that I should start the day with him. The problem is, my beloved partner has a bizarre predisposition to wake up very easily before the sun even thinks about rising. And he doesn't rest until he wakes me up too.
"Come on, babe, we still need to have breakfast before we start training," his voice muffled as my face is buried under two pillows and protected by a thick blanket. "If you don't get up soon, we'll be late."
"Cassian, how could we be late if the sun hasn't even woken up yet?" Irritation in my voice is palpable, but perhaps the pillows somehow contained that annoyance in their feathers because the Illyrian has the audacity to laugh, a loud laughter that comes from the depths of his chest.
Before I could curse him with every name I know, my blanket is abruptly pulled off my body. As I cling to the pillows, trying to prevent him from taking them away, I feel the mattress shifting and his weight being placed on me. Peeking under the pillow, his forearms are bracing on either side of my body, preventing his entire weight from resting on me. His wings are spread, and a few strands of his hair escape from the bun.
"Are you going to get up, or do I have to take these pillows away too?" His voice is pure amusement, and I'm sure he's wearing that typical smirk of his.
With a very dissatisfied sigh, I push the pillows up, removing them from my face. As I suspected, his smile is evident on his lips, Cassian's face hovering above mine, very close.
I make a face and poke his cheek with my finger. "You really have no fear of death, do you?" Despite my words, the irritation of being woken up so early is set aside for a moment. Cassian's face so close to mine erases any resentment I could have for him being a morning person.
"Not when it's this beautiful," his hand moves, pushing strands of hair away from my face, his features softening. His eyes travel across the expanse of my face, and he's so focused on tracing the contours of my cheeks with his finger that he doesn't realize he's been doing it for a few minutes.
"You're staring, General," I murmur, a playful smile forming on my lips as I see his eyes darken with the title used. His finger doesn't stop caressing my cheek, but his face descends a bit, his lips hovering a few inches from mine.
He whispers to me, his breath mixing with mine, "With a sight like this? You can't blame me." He doesn't wait a second after finishing the sentence to press our lips together, a warm and desire-filled kiss.
My hands grab his hair, and the bun easily unravels as I grip the strands, his mouth dancing over mine as our tongues connect and dance. When he breaks the kiss, it's only because we need to breathe, but he plants soft and quick kisses while stabilizing his breath, then descending and leaving a trail of wet kisses on my neck.
I bring his face up, looking into his eyes, the previous amusement replaced by lust. My arched eyebrow and mischievous smile draw his eyes back to my lips. Before he can kiss me again, I speak.
"I thought we were going to be late for training if I didn't get up soon." The amusement in my voice prompts an eye roll from him in response.
"Screw the training; my only commitment now is with your body." And his lips resume leaving trails of kisses, descending from my neck to my collarbone. Laughter escapes me as his wife reverberates throughout the room, Cassian focusing on kissing me everywhere.
Azriel
Azriel's lips passionately met mine, his hands gripping my waist, pulling me closer. I'm a complete mess; one of my hands supports me on his arm, while the other grabs his hair. My feet barely touch the ground, striving for height to reach his lips. His warm mouth against mine, our tongues entwining, he pulls back just enough to capture my lower lip between his teeth, causing delightful shivers.
His hand moves up to my neck; his thumb rests on my chin, tilting my face upward. His lips trail down, planting a kiss on my jaw and then on my neck. He lightly bites and kisses the spot that never fails to elicit sighs from me.
As he pulls away, I open my eyes, meeting his brown, sparkling eyes admiring my face. His hands cup my cheeks, a small smile playing on his lips. My lip throbs, feeling swollen, yet Azriel gazes at me with such devotion that all I can do is smile back, my heart racing as if it's the first time he's touched me this way. It isn't, but my body seems to forget that in the moment.
Azriel continues watching me, but my attention is momentarily diverted as a bright flash catches my peripheral vision. I turn my head, his hand moving from my cheek to hold mine as I observe stars falling from the sky. They start timidly, but as seconds pass, more appear, the sky glowing with the trails they leave behind.
I love this. I love the starfall, sharing the moment with my partner, and more than that, I love how he still hasn't taken his eyes off me, even though the brilliant sky is far more beautiful and interesting to watch.
"You're staring," I murmur, my eyes still fixed on the sky. Azriel wraps his arms around my shoulders from behind, his wings blocking the wind around us. He places a gentle kiss on the top of my head, then lowers his lips to my ear, whispering in response.
"You're so beautiful; it's hard not to look, my love." His voice in that tone is incredibly sensual, and the shadows dancing on my arms as I hold onto his bring a delightful sensation.
I don't respond with words; instead, I send all the love and warmth I can through the golden bond that connects us. My eyes remain fixed on the stars detaching from the sky above us, but I'm sure he's still trying to study any detail he hasn't memorized yet, even with our closeness.
Feyre
The sun warming my skin is a very welcome sensation, the fabric of the sheet that Feyre and I spread on the grass earlier is a bit disheveled, but I don't mind.
The comfortable silence we're in is filled with occasional sounds of pages turning in my book and the strokes Freyre makes on her canvas. I lie on my stomach, reading the new suspense novel my lovely partner gifted me a few days ago. The story is at a particularly tense point, a crucial revelation is imminent, and I can feel it.
This may have been one of the best ideas Feyre had in the last month. She was recently inspired to paint landscapes and planned an outdoor day. With all the shared love, she asked if I wanted to accompany her. We didn't go far, choosing a spot near the Sidra River. We arrived in the early afternoon and planned to stay until the sun gave way to the moon.
Despite wanting to continue reading, Feyre's gaze distracts me. Giving up on reading, I sit up, looking at her. From my angle, I can't see what she's painting very well, but the paints are still scattered around us, and she's still holding the brush, so I deduce she hasn't finished the painting.
"Baby, you're staring," I stretch, trying to see what she's painting, curious to see her progress, but she quickly pulls the canvas away from my view. The warmth that fills her cheeks as she looks away from me gives me a hint as to why she was staring at me.
A mischievous smile forms on my lips. I lean forward, innocently running the tip of my nail on her bare leg. "You know, when you said you wanted to paint the landscape, I didn't think you were referring to me."
She chuckles at the teasing, rolling her eyes as she mumbles something. She places the canvas in one of the paints, away from my sight, and turns to me, her hand reaching to grab mine. Her finger is smeared with paint, and as she runs it over me, I get stained with the hue she was using, but I don't complain.
"You're too beautiful; it's hard to capture you in a painting," she confesses to me. Her brown eyes meet mine, her freckles reflecting the sunlight and seeming to glow. It's ironic for Feyre to say this about me; the beauty she carries is otherworldly, yet I am the one challenging to be captured in paints.
"Pfft, you can turn anything into the most beautiful art, Fey," I roll my eyes at her, her hand drawing a pattern on mine gently. "But I can be your muse whenever you want. I don't mind how long it takes for you to finish your painting."
She smiles at my response. Her other hand, which previously held the brush, holds my face tenderly, and she stares at me for a few more seconds in silence, studying and analyzing my face, imprinting the details with her eyes and fingertips. When she finishes, she goes back to grab the canvas and the brush, speaking excitedly.
"Alright then, get into a comfortable position. This will probably take some time," she starts mixing colors and dipping them into the brush as I lean back, sitting in a more comfortable way.
When she resumes painting, I'm still laughing, and as the sun sets, giving way to the moon, she remains focused, alternating her gaze between me and the canvas, until she completes her masterpiece.
Nesta
In this, Nesta and I have developed a small tradition in our relationship. At least once a month, we go to any bookstore we choose at the moment, even if we don't plan to buy any books or have only bought a few days ago. We simply go, wander around the store, and talk – sometimes we browse through books on the shelves, other times we just observe. It doesn't matter much what we do in the bookstore; we just go.
That's why the day after I return from a political trip to the Day Court, Nesta wakes me up early. We have breakfast together, then leisurely stroll to a new bookstore that opened while I was away. The place is beautiful and cozy, the smell of books is relaxing, and Nesta's hand in mine brings a sense of comfort. We are almost at the back of the bookstore, in the erotic books section, when one of the covers catches my attention.
"Oh! Helion had this book in his library; I read it while I was there." I release Nesta's hand to pick up the book. The cover is as discreet as the title; at first glance, nothing would indicate the content inside this book, except for the category it belongs to.
I flip through the book, reading some random passages and recalling the story. A laugh escapes my throat as I turn to Nesta and show her one of the excerpts. "Look at this."
Nesta's eyebrow arches as she reads the passage I showed her. A quieter laugh, compared to mine, also escapes her, and her eyes meet mine as she says, "Well, it's a... uninteresting scene."
I nod, agreeing with her, and turn back to the shelf, running my finger over the covers. "I really didn't expect that while reading, although it makes sense when compared to the rest of the story." Then I briefly start recounting the story – how the main couple faced various challenges when together but always had a significant tension between them.
I pick up another book, turning the cover and reading its summary. It seems interesting. "Look, Nes, it's from that new author you were interested in. The story sounds good; it's about..."
When I turn to show her the book I found, she still has the previous book in her hands, open to the page I handed her. Her eyes stare at me with an affectionate gaze, causing my cheeks to flush with the attention she gives me, and I release a nervous giggle.
"Darling, you're staring at me," I murmur, shyness covering my voice. This seems to snap Nesta out of the trance she was in because she blinks, very slowly, and a mischievous smile forms on her lips – a smile that sends shivers down my spine.
She closes the book in her hands, takes the one in mine, and puts both back on the shelf, pulling me close to her. "You look too beautiful when you talk about the books you like," she murmurs, her lips nearing mine.
Her eyes burn with mischief, her hand moves up to my nape, pulling me closer, our lips inches apart. "Tell me more about the book, about all the books you read while you were away," her lips meet mine in the next moment.
Morrigan
Morrigan's dissatisfied murmurs filled my ears as I watched her argue with herself through the vanity mirror about the three dresses scattered on the bed. Smiling at her indecision, I resumed applying makeup, finishing the products on my eyes and cheeks, adding color and life to my face.
Digging into Mor's vanity drawer, I searched for a lipstick to complement the outfit I chose for the night. Once I found the perfect shade, I glanced back at the mirror.
Swiftly applying the lipstick, I examined my face—it was perfect and would be even more so when I put on the golden earring that matched Mor's. With that thought, I sought her reflection and found her staring at me through the mirror with a puzzled look, still undecided on her choice. Turning to face her, still seated on the stool, I raised my eyebrows at her pout, and she scrutinized me with puppy-dog eyes.
"You're staring, babe," I stood up, approaching the bed with the intention of helping her choose her outfit but was interrupted when she pulled me close, pressing her body against mine. Her eyes descended to the lips I had just painted, now adorned with a mischievous smile.
"You're beautiful; I can't help but look," I playfully rolled my eyes, accustomed to her flattery.
She brushed a strand of my hair back, clearing it from my face, and leaned forward, sealing our lips. I got lost in the kiss, engulfed in the passion she radiated. Our mouths moved in harmony; my hand held her face, preventing her from pulling away. We only broke the kiss because we needed air. As her lips moved far enough from mine for coherent thought, I noticed the color on hers.
She furrowed her brows, confused by my exasperated sigh. When I quickly distanced myself and walked back to the vanity, she became even more perplexed. Until I looked at myself in the mirror and realized the chaos my face had become—lipstick smeared everywhere, ruining the makeup I had done.
I groaned and turned to her, attempting to hide a laugh behind her fist, "Morrigan," I whined, "now I have to clean up and redo it."
She approached again, her hands running up my arms and stopping at the base of my neck, her fingertips playing with my hair. "Well, at least I'll have more time to decide what to wear," she chuckled loudly as I huffed indignantly.
#fanfic#acotar#rhysand#rhysand x reader#x reader#a court of thorns and roses#azriel x reader#cassian#cassian x reader#azriel shadowsinger#Azriel#feyre x reader#feyre archeron#feyre acotar#nesta x reader#nesta archeron#morrigan x reader#Morrigan#rhysand x you#azriel x you#cassian x you#nesta x you#Morrigan x you#feyre archeron x reader#nesta archeron x reader
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Names for the F03 Nightmare Residents (for my Genderswap AU)
So a reblog from @gabbbyyyyyyyyyy has prompted me to go ultra-nerd mode and search up genderwapped names for the 3rd floor nightmare residents
(i find them the most interesting since they're named after various chthonic gods from different mythological pantheons)
So just to preface, most (but not all) of the names of the residents are going to be very, very different from the og but i do have a basis and explanation (most of the names are either names of other earth/life and/or death gods of the same pantheon or figures related to the original namesake)
So here's what I thought up:
F03-01
Yan Luo would still retain the same name since the namesake character is already a male being on the kings of the Underworld in the Chinese pantheon
Orcus Dis Pater => Kore Despoina
Explanation: Both names are epithets of the goddess Persephone/Proserpina, Queen of the Underworld in the Greek/Roman pantheon and wife of Hades/Pluto (kinda like how "Orcus" and "Dis Pater" are alternate names of Pluto)
F03-02
Ishtar Ereskigal => Tammuz Nergal
Explanation: Tammuz and Nergal are the primary consorts of Ishtar and Ereskigal respectively in the Mesopotamian pantheon. Nergal is one of the gods of the Underworld and Tammuz is a fertility god like Ishtar, who later gets dragged down to the underworld after upsetting her for not properly mourning her suffering in the underworld at the hands of Ereskigal.
F03-03
Teutates Taranis => Erecura Andrasta
Explanation: Both names are names of goddesses in the Gaulish and Brittonic pantheon. Erecura is the goddess of death and fertility while Andrasta is the goddess of victory in war (i was going for a deity with the same "protector of people" vibe like Teutates)
Ah Puch Xibalbá => Ix Tab Xibalbá
Explanation: Xibalbá still gets retained here since that's just the name of the Underworld in the Maya pantheon. Ix Tab is the goddess of suicide by hanging and acts as a psychopomp to those who died by that method.
F03-04
Dagda Crom Cruach=> Dana Mor Rioghan
Explanation: Both are names of goddesses in the Irish pantheon. Dana is the hypothesized mother goddess that's also tied to agriculture. The Morrigan or Mor Rioghan is a goddess that rules over aspects of life and death (also the wife of Dagda)
Izanami Yomi => Izanagi Yomi
Explanation: Yomi is retained since it's just the name of the Underworld of the Japanese Shinto pantheon. Izanagi is one of the creator gods and brother/husband of Izanami, who descends into the Underworld to find his wife .
so that's all for nerd hour 🤓
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Hazbin Hotel Redesigns - Part Two!
the hotel staff are done and ready to give you mediocre room-service and amenities! individual pngs and design notes under cut!
Niffty - She/her, cis woman, straight
wanted to make her significantly more buggy! she's not really based on any bug in particular but i did kind of opt for some ladybug theming!
with her more buggy aspects comes extra legs and arms. she skitters around the floor like a little cockroach with her teeny broom!
i honestly think niffty's original design is very cute, so i didn't change too much. her color palette is the only thing i really had qualms with, so i made her more of an orangey pink since i think it fit her better. also, bug features on her are just really cute and were totally a missed opportunity in her og design. she looks so cute!
she's scarily perceptive and has great hearing
Husk - He/him, cis man, idk but bro isn't straight
i removed his bird features and made him just a cat. sorry to everyone that liked his wings and tail but i just don't really get his bird theming???
he has so much and so little going on at the same time so i simplified him a lot while still adding that grumpy cat bartender charm.
he's short and stout, only a couple feet taller than niffty!
he has all of the suits in his design, because i think it's really fun! wanted to make him look like some kind of retired magician
he couldn't be bothered to wear his suit jacket or tie his tie, it's a miracle they got him to wear his nametag
i overall just wanted him to look a lot older and more grizzled. husk's og design is really busy but in my opinion tells us nothing about his character. i hope this communicates more about him
Alastor - He/him, agender, aroace, gay
monochrome with pops of gold and red! he's a classy guy.
doesn't talk through his mouth, and can only speak through his microphone. he has it on him at all times, and this makes adam breaking his microphone a lot more consequential. he's constantly 'on air'
more obvious deer features! he has a tail and hooves because it's fun, sue me
i also gave him much larger antlers because his antlers are barely noticeable when he's not in his full demon form in his og design, and it doesn't make any sense to me why they're not. surprisingly, his antlers do get much larger when he's in his full demon form, even though they're already very impressive
he has two eyes i just left one out for stylistic reasons
the x on his forehead is always there, not just in his full demon form. however, it does glow when he transforms, and his other stitches become much more noticable.
he cannot stop smiling, and also cannot open his mouth. a terrible punishment for a gluttonous cannibal
he's extremely polite (he never, ever curses) and a neat freak despite his murderous tendencies. he's very touch-averse but has no issue getting in everyone else's space. he's still a manipulative asshole, but is extremely good at hiding his emotions
he's definitely one of the more interesting characters to me and i feel like has a lot of potential, which is why i thought so much abt his design haha
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanart#hazbin#hazbin art#hazbin hotel art#alastor#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor#niffty#hazbin hotel spoilers#husk#hazbin hotel husk#niffty hazbin hotel#hazbin redesign
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Incredible finale. I honestly haven’t this locked in to a show like in terms of binging in a very long time, took me back to early Covid days. Without a doubt the best piece of terminator media we’ve had since T2, it’s well clear of salvation.
The first few episodes really had me thinking it was just T2 and T1 mashed together, but the Japanese version. Malcolm looks just like the dude that Arnold and Sarah are trying to protect in T2, resistance fighter from the future etc etc. But I like how we ended up focusing on the philosophical aspect of man and machine, rather than the usual save the world stuff, we get asked if the world is even worth saving.
Ngl when Kokoro was asking Malcolm all that stuff about what humanity has actually given the world instead of just taken from it, I couldn’t come up with an answer either. Some really interesting ideological questions were posed for sure.
So many twists in this last episode I had my jaw on the floor. Malcolm coming from the future was a wtf, Misaki I had a feeling was a robot anyway from the first episode, so that wasn’t too much of a shock but what was shocking was her relationship with Malcolm in the OG timeline and how she was the basis for Kokoro. She was best girl tho and I’d absolutely take out my own unit to protect her.
Eiko being Malcolm’s mother tho wtf?? Kenta brokering a peace deal between skynet and sending the terminator back was probably the biggest shock for me. But it does line up with his character throughout the show who was always skeptical of Misaki and the machines.. just a lot of WTF twists and multiple timelines, I really hope they do more with terminator in this universe because there’s a lot of cool possibilities. We also don’t know what Kokoro will get up to now!
Hate that Malcolm had to go out like that, but i guess it was necessary to give Kokoro the right answer in the end.. just really enjoyed this one, well done production IG.
#animangahive#animanga#animanga hive#anime#summer anime 2024#anime summer 2024#terminator#terminator zero
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Hello! Apologies for sending an ask out of the blue but considering your familiarity with localisation differences in persona 4/golden, I was wondering if anything comes to your mind regarding this aspect and how the game depicts queerness and queer themes? Thank you!
Heya! Don't worry, I was thinking people would probably ask stuff like this. After all, I already replied to somebody's tags asking this same thing previously, but I know not many people saw that, so let me use the chance to go into more detail:
Unfortunately, Persona 4's treatment of queer themes is not a result of the translation. The only things that were down to translation choices were small things, such as which pronouns are used in which situation (because Japanese does not at all have the same concept of third person pronouns as English, and the way first person classifiers that mean "I" work is very complex and a lot more vibes-based than actually tied to gender.)
But for the most part, everything is pretty much the same. Kanji's reaction to Chie mumbling about something being "off" about how he interacted with Naoto that first time, the tent scene, Yosuke's extreme insecurity in his own sexuality in addition to everyone else's... I think maybe the only thing that's a biiit better in Japanese is that Teddie is kiiinda genderfluid in Japanese, with the artbook outright stating that he doesn't necessarily consider himself "male" when he's in his bear form, unless it's necessary for a joke.
A lot of this can be traced to the really odd relationship the game's director, Katsura Hashino, has to queer themes. In interviews about Catherine Fullbody (a game which infamously has a rather weirdly handled gay romance route which, however, is notably also the only romance route in the game that cannot possibly result in a bad ending), he talks about how he's always admired queer people for being "strong" and wanted to write queer stories, but couldn't really do it until Fullbody because Atlus higher ups were afraid of backlash from the fans.
Traces of this are actually seen in Persona 4 Vanilla's data, where remnants of a surprisingly well done romance route for YOSUKE, of all people, are still present. That route made it far enough into development to have voiced lines in both, English and Japanese. However, it was dummied out in the final game and its script content was removed. Yosuke STILL has the "girlfriend flag" in the code that all the female romance options also have, but in the finished game it only checks whether you can hug him during his social link or not. Everything else was dummied out. You can still find the voice files on the cutting room floor if you want:
And yes, the "I like you" line is unambiguously romantic in Japanese. His wording is very hard to misinterpret.
However, in the finished game and the rest of the franchise Yosuke's bisexuality was reduced to an in-joke of the developers. It's most poignant in Persona Q (the first one), where if you get the "marriage" scene with Yosuke in the second dungeon, his reactions differ WILDLY depending on which Protagonist you are playing as, far more than other male characters. With Makoto Yuki he acts nonchallant and deadpan about it. With Yu Narukami he acts like a blushy Tsundere and panics constantly. So, yeah.
Okay, so, if the director had interest in writing queer stories since before Persona 4, why is Persona 4 the way it is then?
Well, because - and there's no way around it - he sucks at it.
Katsura Hashino has to be one of the clumsiest "gay activists" I've ever seen in my whole darn life. He finds queer people "cool", but seemingly never had any queer writers or sensitivity readers on his teams and it's caused enormous blunders in how these themes have been handled. For example, when after Persona 3 it was pointed out to him that the writing of the female characters in interaction with the male characters was bad, he immediately hired more female writers and gave them free reign for how to handle the female characters from then on out. But apparently the same thing never happened with his mishandling of queer themes. He wants Catherine's Erica and Rin to be empowering figures for trans women and gay men, but makes a lot of blunders in how he has other characters interact with them to the point it buries his good intentions. Erica's boyfriend having gay panic upon realizing she's trans is treated as "funny and cute", even by Erica herself. Rin technically being a monogender alien really undermines his story of becoming more secure in his sexuality. It goes on and on like that.
The intention with Naoto's story was to point out the extreme sexism in Japanese society and how it forces female nerds to find alternate modes of self-expression, but the clumsy choice of including surgery themes in Naoto's dungeon completely buried that for especially western queer audiences. Most people don't even remember Naoto's dungeon was outright modeled after a Kamen Rider villain hideout. They completely shot themselves in the foot with this one. Additionally, the way Naoto is handled AFTER the dungeon makes her (I'm using that pronoun because she calls herself a "woman" in Japanese in the game) seem more like someone who's on the verge of discovering they are X-gender (the japanese word for "nonbinary") than a repressed girl. Like, right down to how she has Rise help her experiment with clothes in the canonical drama CDs only to realize she really is uncomfortable with skirts and go for an androgynous but less restrictive look going forward. The way she dresses in the Golden epilogue and P4D is pretty X-gender core if you ask me. If they had leaned into that they could have genuinely have had something AMAZING, while also presenting the themes of sexism they wanted to explore, but the lack of queer sensitivity readers kind of ruined it.
Same for Kanji. The way they write him makes it seem like he's bisexual or pansexual, rather than straight, but they kinda shove that part of him aside after his dungeon is done, leaving his actual orientation up in the air and wasting a really good chance for representation. NOW, given what happened to Yosuke's social link, it's quite possible the original intent WAS to explore this more and it got cut, but as it stands, we'll never know. The huge problem of the internalized toxic stereotypes his Shadow presented never being reflected on and put into their right context in the rest of the game, when his social link could've given a great opportunity for that is also a huge shame.
All of this happened because of Atlus being unwilling to let their writers go all out with queer themes in fears of alienating a cishet audience AND because Hashino never sat his writing team down with any actual queer writers to sort this shit out and learn how to get across what the team was ACTUALLY trying to say. Now, given, Persona 4 was far from the only Japanese media property with that exact issue at the time, but it hurts especially much in its case because of the game's themes of exploring the truth to its logical conclusion, as well as psychology. These are issues that a remake REALLY would do well to address and correct. I feel like they actually will HAVE to do that, because sensitivity readers have become the NORM in handling these themes now in Japanese media, rather than the exception. You can thank trail blazing mainstream works like Zombie Land Saga for that.
All in all, Persona 4's handling of queer themes is an exercise in frustration that I hope is corrected soon.
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why i think richard cameron is Like That
the long awaited cam analysis post of sorts!!!
so to start off, let me acknowledge the obvious: CAMERON SUCKED FOR WHAT HE DID TO HIS FRIENDS. THAT WAS MEAN AND SHITTY OF HIM, HE DESERVED TO GET PUNCHED IN THE FACE AND HE DESERVED TO HAVE HIS FRIENDS STOP LIKING HIM. this post is just to paint a more nuanced picture of the motivations and reasoning behind his cam-ness. also i feel the need to address that my love for dylan kussman HEAVILY influences my opinion on cameron, so please keep that in find when u read this. if my bias shows at any point then feel free to offer your perspective, odds are i'll find a way to agree :3
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lets start at the very beginning of the movie, his first appearance with the tradition banner. this obviously wasn't anything i rly thought of in depth on my first watch, but on my second watch i was like oh Hm.
tradition, of course, is a BIG aspect of welton that the movie repeatedly emphasises, drawing lots of attention to how nothing changes. i find cam holding the tradition banner especially interesting in relativity to neil holding the excellence banner specifically. cam very clearly tries his best to embody the rules of welton (more on this later) and very rarely deviates from those rules, although he does on occasion (again - more on this later.) but despite his attempts to be the manifestation of those values are never met with any praise, unlike neil. that's not to say that neil isn't deserving of that praise though, absolutely he is deserving, but in terms of academics specifically, cam's pretty up there too! this part doesnt exactly tie in directly with the rest of the post, but just thought id point it out first to add a layer to the rest of my thoughts.
how i view cam's character arc is something that's framed in a way thats not supposed to be viewed as an arc, i suppose (interesting considering the tradition thing hm). of course thats inaccurate as he does in fact have in arc, it just small in relation to the more forefront-ed poets. and it makes him ultimately less likeable, so.
during a majority of the movie (pre neil death) cam is known as the guy who doesnt like to break rules, that much is obvious, but in the end he still does with the dead poets society. now the reasoning behind that isnt actually touched on in a direct way, so there are a few different ways you can view that. i'll touch on a few different reasonings that me, @pencileraser1, and @good--merits-accumulated came up with.
my reasoning - i see cam's willingness to break the rules as cam holding his friends' idea of him on a high pedestal, constantly taking into consideration what they think. not wanting his friends to consider him a loser or boring in any way, he joins despite the anxiety surrounding being caught. not without fuss though, he does still outwardly talk about how this isnt something they should be doing. all this and yet he does in fact join, AND he doesnt rat anyone out for a majority of the movie (even after the call from god dealio!!!) fomo, basically.
nick's reasoning (found in this post) - he just wanted his friends to be safe!!! joining to (in my view) keep them in line in terms of safety as well as. i guess. provide the reminder of the consequences i suppose?? nick im opening up the floor to u if u wanna delve into this point more cuz ur definitely able to provide better reasoning n such. if asking nick to talk abt things was a full time job.
tristan's reasoning (discussed in dms) - cam's need for authority. tristan brought up a very good headcanon/ theory/ something or other that cam is the type to need constant direction or authority, and i totally agree! (reason for that will - again - come up later.) now this culminates in a couple different ways. 1) most obviously, adhereing (ehh) to the rules of welton, and 2) his relationship with the rest of the poets. due to the size of the welton student body, a lack of individual direction from teachers and staff is almost inevitable. so to fill that gap, he adheres to his friends' """"""rules"""""", and joins the poets. floor is open to you as well if you'd like to elaborate further, tristan :3
my thoughts of cam being super focused on his friends' idea of him actually started as a bit. i believe i made a hc post about smoking weed?? maybe?? and said something along the lines of "cam would smoke even if he doesnt want to, not cuz of peer pressure from his friends but more of a self imposed peer pressure. thinking its rude/ cringe/ uncool to turn down smthn like this bc all the rest of the guys r doing it." but after a rewatch of the scene in dps where theyre all walking outside, it started having some merit in my mind! in that scene, keating does a sort of imitation of cameron when he first starts to walk, something like "am i doing this right?", "am i walking weird?", etc. (paraphrasing ofc.) so i sort of took that aspect and applied it to other parts of his character and found out that oh, this actually kinda makes sense!
speaking of keating and his lessons, lets talk carpe diem.
now my interpretation of cam is that he doesn't exactly *want* to apply carpe diem in his life, seeing it as an antithesis of the welton values. only joining the poets for the reasons mentioned above. however, he does indeed apply it in my eyes, but more as a fucked up reversal and dickish version which eventually ends up in him deservedly getting punched. now is this how keating intended him to interpret carpe diem? ehhhhhhhhhhhhh,, it's complicated, let's talk about the context a bit.
this part is more theorising than anything, so take it with a few grains of salt if u wish.
cam quite obviously is a pretty big stickler for the rules, which i believe is a result of outside influence. id like to thank @lovech1ld for reminding me of this! cam's parents/ grandparents/ guardians are noticably older than the other poets, which, in my eyes, makes a heavy emphasis on following the rules make a lot more sense (respect your elders type shit.) so this, combined with the inherent fear of authority that most of the boys seem to have, makes him a chronic rule follower. but it goes further than that, after these ideas have been pushed for so long, i feel that cameron's started to mix up his own personal morals and values with the morals and values of welton, viewing those two things as one in the same. here's where that starts to muddy things up in terms of carpe diem.
i interpret cam's finking AS his application of carpe diem in his life, but as more of a subconscious choice. now you may be thinking "hey. mona. what?" and i UNDERSTAND! but here's my reasoning behind that. as i mentioned/ theorised before, cam has a very high opinion of his friends' idea of him, but this does eventually change after neil's passing. his subconscious carpe diem application, to put it into proper words, was a way to stick up for himself and his beliefs despite what all his friends think. again, being brought about by neils death, since he didn't choose to rat anyone out when the opportunity first presented itself during the call from god assembly. and i dont think cam sticking up for himself is inherently a bad thing!! but! since cam's idea of his morals are so clouded by welton's, this isn't actually sticking up for himself, this is just being a tattletale.
he did provide other reasoning for doing so to the poets of course, so lets talk a bit about that too. he says something along the lines of "i did it for neil" and "this is what he wouldve wanted" which is obviously bullshit, objectively. but i don't think he saw it that way, i think he genuinely believed thats what he thought neil would've wanted, as stupid of him as that was. obviously thats not what he wouldve wanted AT ALL, and why he actually thought that is FAR beyond me. but i really dont think he wouldve turned anyone in if he didnt genuinely believe it, especially considering the fact that he was PART of the dead poets. even if he was the one to confess, im sure he likely got punished as well. (which also couldve been what he wanted? tristan this is an opening to also discuss catholic cam on here bc ur reasonings for that were INCREDIBLE.)
on top of this, i really dont think that cam actually understood the weight of what turning in everyone would do. now i will say right away, hes not dumb, he knew that keating would be fired and charlie would be expelled, and that alone should've turned him away if he really wanted to honor neil. as i said before we started, he absolutely deserved to be punched and lose his friends, that was a dick move that ended up ruining two lives for a long long time, if not forever.
but.
due to him grieving, his rules = morals shtick, and fear of authority, i think he turned in the poets without giving actual, proper thought into what the consequences of that would be. which manifests itself both in the film with the final scene.
in the last scene where all of the boys stand on the desk, we see multiple shots of cam looking around and looking at everyone standing. and we (or at least i) can definitely see some sort of consideration to join them!!! he of course doesnt, and ends up choosing to sit, looking QUITE ashamed. this too can he interpreted a couple ways, either as him being embarrassed that his peers are doing this, or as him wanting to join them but knowing that he was the reason keating was fired. knowing that it would be incredibly disingenuous, even if he stood as a way to sort of apologise to keating + the poets for what he did and show that he regrets his actions, he stayed seated. and was so. so. mad at himself for it.
now i don't remember where i heard this so im not sure how to go about fact checking, but i believe the choice to keep cam seated was ultimately dylan kussman's?????? but dont take my word as gospel in terms of that, i very well could be wrong.
BUT! this gives me an opportunity to talk abt how much i love dylan kussman!!!!! nick vocalised the thought before i was able to in one of his posts, but considering the fact that i agree wholeheartedly, i'll reiterate it. i see rsl and ethan hawke constantly be praised (deservedly!) for their understanding of the inner workings of their characters, especially reflected in the desk set scene. and while YES ABSOLUTELY, i think dylan needs this praise as well. dylan was the PERFECT casting choice for cameron and i will shout that from the rooftops until my voice goes hoarse. so so so many of his little mannerisms, facial expressions, ways of speaking, soooo many etceteras are just so. so. CAMERON! even the most comprehensive directorial choices cant top an actor's inherent understanding of a character and reflection of that in their performance. good god! i think my new dream in life is to ask dylan about how he came about properly embodying cameron and his process in doing so.
anyway
with my dylan fanfare over, that about wraps up my thoughts on cam in terms of the film itself. HOWEVER. i have lots and lots of thoughts after a long convo with tristan about certain headcanons and post-canon theories and whatever. will probably touch on those but i dont really have my thoughts properly collected enough, so that wont be until later.
as per usual with these types of posts, everyone else is welcome to add any input they may have. cam is one of my fav things to talk abt in terms of dps so i will eat up every single little thing. thank u for reading!!!!
#desire mona#WOO MAN#this took a while#but we're done!! finally!!!#dead poets society#richard cameron#dylan kussman#banger
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One thing that is now unfair to ask is...what is Nine's name? Look hori treated him as an afterthought but his lack of origins works better than the comical twnko's origins.
Yes his family was all killed thanks to him but ...I can't help to think that scene was too ridiculous.
We never saw anyone mentioned them again, not even shig. (He remembers them in MVA and we do see the disgusting human puppet hori flay around) But that's it.
So Nine...
Im not one of those people who think a new character needs to be related to a pre stabelished one. Nine doesn't need to be a Todoroki, Shimura or hell even a lost Midoriya (hahahahahahaha as if hori would care for this family)
But ....imagine if Nine was related to Oboro, somehow, wouldn't that be interesting?
Maybe, maybe not.
Oboro's character became a thing to turns Aizawa into a better character...and fails. Kuro was sacrificed for nothing.
The thing about Shigaraki/Tenko backstory is that it feels... a bit overdramatic?
Well we can say that about his whole character, but the part of his backstory in particular when he kills his family is so exagerated for the sake of shock value that it kinda feels comical.
Horikoshi tried a bit too hard on make MVA feel like the edgier and "different" arc of the series, but the contrast in so big that I can't take it seriously.
Especially when Hori already nailed a dark tone without being super explicit or over the top.
Take the simplicity of Eri's backstory for example:
No blood, no unnecessary violence, just two panels giving a basic idea of what happened to Eri's father and yet the image of those clothes lying on the floor is much more haunting and eerie than the enterity of Shigaraki backstory.
Why Horikoshi stop being subtle with his storytelling?
...
Anyway going back to Nine real name, or the lack of one, I think it's interesting how that aspect of his character adds to the underlying theme of how AFO and Garaki dehumanize people, especially the ones that are part of their experiments.
We know very well how AFO doesn't view other human being as persons but rather objects that belong to him. This starts with his very own twin brother, which name Yoichi means something like "my first possesion".
And just like Nine, number 6 from Vigilantes was a child which whole life was modeled by AFO. They both are just numbers without a real name.
In this case the idea is presented even more explicitly because Six was a child who suffered some kind of amnesia and couldn't even view himself as a normal human with a face.
He even died as a monster without ever know if he had an identity outside being the number 6.
It's funny how you mention the idea of Nine and Shirakumo being connected somehow, as isn't the first time I've hear that.
It's interesting notice how they share this common theme about sky and clouds as part of who they are (Nine's name also is supposedly a reference to the term "cloud nine") both Nine and Oboro are individuals willing to sacrifice their own lifes for others, and ironically both of them ended being experimented by Dr Garaki.
I even have the headcanon of Kurogiri being the "Number 7" in this line of experiments were Nine and Six belong, as sort of missing link between Six and the sentient nomus.
I probably should make a post later explaining better this idea.
And yes for Horikoshi, Shirakumo was just a diposable character to make Aizawa look cooler and more edgy.
While the author of Vigilantes clearly invested a lot of effort on making Oboro a real and memorable character which complements Aizawa rather than just being an accesory. But that topic deserves it's own post as well.
P.S: I have an idea of what real name we could give to Nine, but I keep it for me at least for the moment.
#mha critical#bnha critical#mha nine#bnha nine#shigaraki tomura#shigaraki#Number Six#mha six#oboro shirakumo#mha shirakumo#bnha shirakumo#bnha meta#mha meta#mha eri#mha rewrite#bnha rewrite#Again the “prototypes” subplot has crazy missed potential#Six got a decent arc and screentime at least#Maybe because the writer of Vigilantes knows better what to do with these characters#Wish Nine and Shirakumo got proper extended arcs in the main story rather than being spinoff exclusives
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genshin men as songs in my playlist
aether, albebo, al-haitham, itto, cyno, diluc, kazuha, kaeya, ayato, heizou, childe, thoma, tighnari, scaramouche, xiao, and zhongli
these are written romantically, but if you want to view them as platonic, you can try.
cw: angst w no comfort, fluff, varies depending on character and song i chose. some of these are written in first person, some in x reader form, you can view them however you like!
a/n: initially, i was going for songs fitting their personality, but i accidentally made kaeya and childe's angsty, so i remade them. also, this took so long, for absolutely no reason.
AETHER- hold on by flor
throughout the journey aether's been on in teyvat, all he does is help nations, people, archons, you name it. but i want to be his escape, someone he can hold and be comfortable with. for a moment, i want him to worry less about what's going on outside, and just close his eyes. he's so selfless, and i believe he deserves the same treatment in return.
♡
ALBEDO- something about you by eyedress
you’re just so mesmerizing and beautiful to albedo, that he can’t help but feel subjected to paint you. you’re always catching his breath, from the way your eyes glint when you’re talking about your interests, to the way your body sways when he accidentally catches you dancing in your room, while he’d been busy with his experiments. he just cannot keep his eyes off you.
♡
AL-HAITHAM- out of time by the weeknd
al-haitham would most definitely let his pride get in the way of your relationship. he’d also prioritize his dying love for knowledge over you. the moment you leave him, and he finds his closet half empty, he’s drowning in guilt. he’s reaching for you, but you’ve moved on, and now it’s too late for him to hold you again.
♡
ARATAKI ITTO- always forever by cults
itto is the type of man to boast about you to everyone, having never said anything negative about you. he’s the type of man to snuggle you, and tell you every night how grateful he is, and how happy you make him. he’s going to tell you, that from here on out, you’re stuck with him, and that you’re two peas in a pod.
♡
CYNO- the one that got away by katy perry
cyno isn’t as much of a tsundere as the fandom writes him out to be, so this doesn’t sound fitting. but i feel like his role as the general mahamatra would definitely play a bad part in your relationship. he’d be too busy to take you on a date, or too tired to accompany you to an event. it’s not until you’ve left, that he’s realized he’s neglected you for too long.
♡
DILUC- be kind by halsey
with diluc, i imagine wanting to take his burdens off his shoulders, and comfort him, reassure him. i want him to rely on me, and be comfortable enough to come to me to talk. it makes me sad, how isolated he is, or rather, how he felt the need to isolate himself.
♡
KAEDAHARA KAZUHA- old love by yuji & putri dahlia
not only does the melody suit kazuha, but so do the lyrics. there's not a lot that kazuha holds dear, simply because he wanders a lot. he moves from place to place, and you're one of the only stable aspects of his life. he will always return home, to see you.
♡
KAEYA- midnight rain by taylor swift
i feel like kaeya would suit taylor’s perspective in the song. you wanting to settle down, but kaeya can’t love you for too long, because he's holding a major secret that is threatening yours and potentially teyvat's safety. you’re the sunshine, and he’s the midnight rain. he’ll have to leave you soon, but for now, he’ll let you hold him.
♡
KAMISATO AYATO- still with you by jungkook
ayato is not only head of the kamisato clan, but he’s a commissioner too. he’s used to running things mostly by himself, because he had to take care of his little sister alone, and rebuild the kamisato clan from the floor. he’s often isolated, completing work, but at the end of each day, i want to remind him, that we are in fact together, and any challenges he faces, are mine to struggle with too.
♡
SHIKANOIN HEIZOU- enchanted by taylor swift
heizou is a man who can easily sweep you off your feet, with his charm, pretty smile, and his skills as a detective. he can read your feelings and the type of person you are. he knows exactly what to do to reel you in. your love is enchanting, so unique, and will last for an entire lifetime, if not more.
♡
TARTAGLIA- save your tears by the weeknd & ariana grande
i know we kind of ignore how unhinged childe is, but i want to acknowledge it. he doesn’t know how to love or be loved, which leads to him not knowing how to comfort you. he’s going to hurt you, mentally/verbally, often. he’s going to tell you to stop crying, instead of holding you, or call you dramatic, instead of snuggling you in bed and encouraging you.
♡
THOMA- i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys
thoma is often busy, since he works for a commissioner, and one of the most well known and respected clans in inazuma. he sees you a lot, whether it's running errands, or accompanying one of the kamisatos somewhere. he's in love with you, and he'd do anything for you. but for now, he needs to focus on his duties.
♡
TIGHNARI- sweet by cigarettes after sex
even though he's a busy man, tighnari still makes plenty of time for you. he's sweet and smooth with his swords, easily swaying you. he makes it known, to not just you, that he loves you to the ends of the world. he knows how to make you swoon, from taking days off to pick flowers for you, to having deep talks with you in the shower. he's always thinking about you, even picturing your smile while he's off gathering gifts for you.
♡
WANDERER- space song by beach house
after regaining his memories, and even after his redemption arc, scara will still have major trust issues. wanting to there for him isn't a crime. but because of his trauma, he's going to keep pulling away from you, and pushing you farther from him. no matter, you're not going to give up, and you want him to feel loved and comforted.
♡
XIAO- be there for you by nct dream
xiao is one of the most obvious characters with a traumatic backstory, and i believe i want to be there for him the most. it's not going to be easy, since he's lived 1000+ years. he's used to being on his own, and all he knows is how to protect, and kill. but for once, i want him to rely on me, and for him to breathe a sigh of relief.
♡
ZHONGLI- wildest dreams by taylor swift
as an archon, zhongli has been alive for over 6000 years. even though he's given up the title, and is now living a normal life, he will always remain an immortal. eventually, you will pass on, and zhongli will be alone again. regardless, he's going to spend every waking moment with you, until your very last breath. he will cherish your love for the rest of eternity, even if you're not physically there.
i do want to add, i have so many taylor swift, the weeknd & chase atlantic songs, but didn’t think the last 2 would be as fitting as taylor’s. i have 150 songs & this does not define my entire playlist, there are so many genres. i just happened to make them romantic/angsty..
#genshin#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#aether x reader#albedo x reader#al haitham x reader#arataki itto x reader#itto x reader#cyno x reader#diluc x reader#kazuha x reader#kaedahara kazuha x reader#kaeya x reader#ayato x reader#kamisato ayato x reader#heizou x reader#shikanoin heizou x reader#childe x reader#tartaglia x reader#thoma x reader#tighnari x reader#scaramouche x reader#wanderer x reader#xiao x reader#zhongli x reader
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Kiryu Kazumi is an interesting exercise in fandom, in my opinion. And I wanna talk about that.
[Kazumi is the fan created drag persona for Kiryu. Often Kiryu is genderfluid or exploring identity through her.]
Kazumi places a few tiers down the "non-canon fandom iceberg". She exists in response to Goromi who is already a very minor thing in canon, and was written as a Bit/with the intent to make an offensive joke about drag/ect, the fandom were the ones who made Goromi mean more than that. So Kazumi is a layer down from all of that already.
Despite her existence being entirely fanmade, she's not a vehicle for the fandom to cannibalise the source material into something unrecognisable purely for fanworks' sake. Though she might look it on the surface.
If the fandom decided to make Goromi mean something because she's the most blatant moment of queercoding for Majima in a long history of queercoding for him, then her theme is ultimately masculinity in canon.
Which is absolutely what Kazumi is about. Kiryu sits at the very beating heart of Like A Dragon's themes about masculinity. Be it toxic, be it ideals, be it the kind of appearances you're expected to maintain in the yakuza. Kiryu shoulders the heavy burden of them all.
We see him exhibit both positive and toxic masculinity throughout the series. But what the games have rarely brought up for him, is the rejection of masculinity in any context, or at least, femininity in equal amounts.
This isn't really surprising, if they're unwilling to make Majima say he's gay with his own mouth after using queerness as a means to Other him and make him seem dangerous, untrustworthy and even scary...they're certainly not going to have their shining beacon of Honour, Kiryu, do that. (Majima's queerness and coding has changed role somewhat over time and is generally more neutral or positive in positioning now. But even as recently as Yakuza Kiwami, it was being used in a negative way.)
So Kazumi serves the purpose for fans who wish to delve more deeply into that thorny complex relationship to masculinity.
[Kazumi In Kiwami 2 On NexusMods] By kiryussideburns.
Personally I find the idea of Kiryu exploring Kazumi as a means of escape, as a means of fully free self expression (something Kiryu has never had), really really interesting. I also find the time frame she's generally written in interesting. Most people place her post-2005. Kazama is dead. This is a hugely important factor in Kiryu's willingness to take the risk to explore gender expression. Kazama is not the kind of man who approves of any (perceived) weakness in men. In Kiryu and Nishiki's lives he's who instills a lot of toxic aspects of masculinity in them. I'd also hazard a strong guess that he's homophobic, though we don't actually know that.
The next largest factor is that December 2005 is the point where Kiryu leaves the Tojo Clan permanently. Kiryu definitely still cares a great deal deep down about his image and public perception within the underworld after leaving, but his day-to-day is no longer dictated by the rules of that life.
(Some people, me included, also dabble in Kazumi in 1988. But the same things essentially apply there. Kazama is in prison & as far away as he can functionally be while alive. And Kiryu is out of the Tojo Clan temporarily.)
As someone so enamoured with this exploration of gender expression for the character, I was floored when LAD Gaiden allowed Kiryu to wear makeup. Seriously, I had to go lay down to calm down about it when playing Gaiden day of release.
(Gaiden's lighting is very contrasted, I did my best to find a screenshot where you can actually see the makeup.)
The makeup, nail polish and pearl earrings in the Boutique was kind of unbelievable to me. I know RGG didn't really mean anything by it, that they didn't make those customisation options because they were going to touch on these themes. But even the hint of that in canon, it was so much more than I ever expected....even if it did go nowhere, as I knew it would.
It kind of gives me hope that Goromi might mean something more than just an offensive joke (in canon anyway) in the future. Or if not Goromi than something else, in LAD9 or such. Either way Kazumi will continue to be fandom legacy for gender expression, presentation and what the expectations Kiryu & other characters have resting on them mean.
#yakuza meta#kazumi#kazuma kiryu#like a dragon#ryu ga gotoku#kazumi yakuza#kiyu kazumi#rgg#rgg meta#my.txt#my.stuff
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Matchmaking Overhaul
The matchmaking system is used for the sake of peacefully eliminating your rivals by convincing them to fall in love with another boy. While the idea is generally nice and helps add romantic aspects to the game, it’s still lacking significantly, I believe.
I already put down brief ideas about rewriting the “crush” system, and just like that, these ideas will be just as brief and unofficial. This, of course, means that I can change my mind at any time and may add or take away from the ideas I’m documenting now.
(As per usual, more explaining and a brief art piece below.)
First, I’d like to talk about the benefits of matchmaking students OTHER than the rivals. Hypothetically speaking, let’s say that one of the “patrol” students, like Himari on the first floor (who also has the capability to apprehend you), gets in the way too much. Of course, speaking from Himari’s current functions, she truly isn’t that much of a threat, but I digress. If she had more obnoxious patrolling functions, then matchmaking might be a good way to keep her from patrolling at a certain time. Say you matchmake her with another compatible student, and in the mornings, instead of patrolling, she begins spending time with that student elsewhere instead.
With that explanation out of the way, I want to talk about compatibility. If you want to matchmake someone, you should have all of the necessary information for both parties. The necessary information in this case would be- the student’s likes, personality, type and thoughts on dating. Currently, you can chat with students or drag them around the school to learn their interests, which is time-consuming but still rather simple. If it’s to be time-consuming, it should at least include multiple unique actions that doesn’t include waiting in a room for the student to find their way inside the room with its poor programming.
A good idea could be offering a student gifts, asking them questions, or just generally spending time with the student. What you learn can depend on the student’s personality, their willingness to speak about their feelings, how chatty they are, and what exactly you ask about.
Back to the compatibility, though. Putting it into a simple idea, two students who all like cooking, drama, nature, art, and socializing would be pretty compatible. But again that’s very face-value. What if, say, Gema and Akane had the same likes and dislikes. It doesn’t mean that they’d be compatible at all in terms of dating or even bring friends because of how different their personalities and lifestyles are. Akane is meant to be uptight and likely keeps romance to a minimum if not completely silent as a subject, and Gema has proven that his “type” is either anime characters or unique fashions like the gyaru girls. Both of them can be found attractive in their own right, but if their personalities and appearances aren’t compatible with their preferences, they likely wouldn’t get together. Or at least it would be very difficult.
This leads me to “types”. While having a preference in terms of appearance (think Osana with Taro), it doesn’t guarantee that the student will only date a student who holds all of those physical attributes. However, it does help the player decide what possible candidates may be. As you all probably read recently, I’m unable to add same-sex relationships due to my religion, but in the game, it’s likely that some students will have a preferred gender to date, which could also help the player narrow down their options.
Also, allow me to comment on something else. As you may know, some characters have canon friendships in the game, like Osana and Raibaru, Sukubi and Rojasu, and Saki and Kokona. In my story, one of the friendships is Saki and Kenko. While they are good friends, I doubt that they would be compatible due to their different lifestyles. They can like the same things, like each other’s appearance, but Kenko might desperately prefer someone who takes better care of their body, which Saki does not do.
I think that all of what I’ve discussed thus far could be somewhat used for some sort of matchmaking system. As I said, I admit that I wasn’t able to put this in quite effective words. It all looks messy as I’m re-reading it, but that’s likely due to my lack of sleep. I plan on putting some more effort into this in the future, definitely when I’ve actually gotten some shut eye.
Although my religion restricts me from making certain things possible, I encourage other creators to possibly put in their thoughts and make art regarding a revamped matchmaking system. Maybe put in characters that you think may be compatible and why. Do they have different likes and dislikes from the canon information? Is their personality different, thus making them compatible with different students? I’m always curious to see such things in this community.
(I realize his pose looks a bit strange. He's meant to be tying his apron. 😔)
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Hope your day or night is going well!! ✨
Okay, top five Megumi lines/scenes?
ahhh thank you i hope yours is as well!! and thank you for the ask!!
im in the car rn so some of these i couldn’t track down the specific chapter/page bc i dont wanna use all my data :’)
1 - “i’m not like itadori, i have no problem earning 100 points for myself.” or something along that line
one of the things that fascinates me the most about megumi is the way he places value on lives, and this line is just so cool to me. he’d said before this that he saves people unequally, but this shows just how far that goes. he’ll kill anywhere from 20-100 random people so tsumiki and itadori, the two people he cares about and thinks are worth saving more than anyone else, don’t have to get their hands dirty, and their lives hold more value to him than others. it’s also so interesting to me because of the way megumi doesn’t consider himself a good person like tsumiki or itadori, and therefore doesn’t really see himself as worth saving, so it’s just a necessary burden he has to carry as the “bad” person for those two. also add that in w this line, and im on the floor
2 - his battle vs sukuna at the detention facility/“i’m not a hero, i’m a jujutsu sorcerer”
another moment where we get an insight into his ideas on good/bad people and who deserves saving, can you tell i love this aspect of his character? i mean, he’s about to sacrifice himself for itadori to live (hopefully), even though he literally met the guy two weeks ago, because he thinks he’s a good person who deserves saving. it’s the first insight we get into megumi’s thought process, and this was really the moment that made me start paying attention to him more. i also love how he kept a softer expression on his face and didn’t cry until after itadori died, like he didnt want itadori to feel sad or guilty in his final moments im SICK also the fact that he took the name-tag to that guys mom even though he didnt have an interest in saving him, like he was paying a respect to itadori….ugh…anyway yeah i love dissecting the way he values life.
3 - “so start by saving me, itadori”
see as an itafushist of course this had to make the list like this whole chapter has me on the floor but anyway aside from that, i love thinking about this scene because the words he’s saying seem so contrary to how he thinks? like he’s asking to be saved but he doesn’t think he’s worth saving? so it needs an extra layer of consideration. i feel like he really said this more to motivate yuuji (and save tsumiki) than actually wanting to be saved himself. plus the “it’s our fault, don’t be selfish and give up all alone” aaahhahahsj i just love this moment i feel like it shows his character very well….when the idgafer actually very much gaf….
4 - his first domain expansion
hellooo this was so sick and cool and badass of him like i dont think there’s anything i need to say for this. huge character development moment for him too. add this with the simple domain he had in dagon’s domain + the part in the culling games arc where he literally hides himself in the shadows……he’s crazy powerful and i dont wanna hear anything abt it! if u were traumatized like that you’d be curled up on the floor too
5 - “if you die, i’ll kill you” both times
again as an itafushist i couldnt not include this….of course there’s implications for megumi’s character as well but i feel like there’s only so much i can talk about his moral code in one post yk? but yeah i think it just shows how much the people he cares about matter to him
also bonus i love just any culling games megumi, his determination to save tsumiki and make it so itadori doesnt have to kill anyone makes him grow so much as a character and as a sorcerer, i love it sm
thank u for the ask! any excuse to yap about megumi 🤞
#me when i queue an ask game and then forget#i have no idea what’s in my queue tbh#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk spoilers#megumi fushiguro#itafushi
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As promised, I have arrived with a prompt for NRFTW extra-content. I would loooooove to see the Hamato family come over to meet April's parents over dinner. 👀😎
this was less written and more 'the characters stuffed the author in the trunk and drove the plot themselves, but at least they gave the author popcorn'
WARNING: THIS IS A 30 PAGE STORY, IT IS THE UNDERDARK OF FAMILY DINNERS--
“Okay, so remember what I said about Raph.”
“He’s big. Don’t stare.”
“Great. I mean yeah, he’s huge, but he’s a big softie—”
“I get it. Stop being so worried.”
“Oh, and keep the gravy separate—”
“I got it!”
“—for Donnie, he has—”
“April.”
“...sensory issues?”
“So does your dad. Business as usual. You remember we’ve had this conversation three times already, right?”
“Sorry, mom. I’m just, uh…”
“You’re sitting down with friends you’ve known for years, not going to prom with a flock of mean girls. Stop pacing, for Pete’s sake. Look, get the potatoes out of the oven for me.”
“You got it.”
“How is… Leo? Is it Leo?”
“Yeah. He’s coming. AOPBA.”
“I have no clue what that means.”
“He has over-protective brothers.”
“Well, great, two birds with one stone. Go make up the couch so I don’t have to look at your face. Green is a better look on your turtle friends, baby, just sayin’.”
“Thanks so much.”
---------
There was really no good reason to be nervous. Donnie had already met her parents in less than stellar circumstances, and it had put Mom in a good mood for the rest of the evening. The ice had been broken; the guys had wanted to meet her family for ages, and she knew now it would be okay.
It didn’t stop the low level jitters as April padded the couch out generously with pillows and a comforter or two. It was like elation and terror had decided to go clubbing together somewhere in her rib cage. In the end, it came down to this being new. Something life-changing. The status quo forever being overturned. It was a good thing.
(It was damn terrifying, was what it was.)
The living room floor was generously covered in rugs and loose carpeting—both new and borrowed—because they weren’t made of money and the floor was still in the process of being repaired. Her dad had made fretful noises about inviting guests over in such conditions, and it was Carol that had reminded him, dryly, that “Honey, those kids live in a sewer. I don’t think they’re gonna judge us.”
“They live in an old subway station now,” April had said helpfully, and August had perked up with some interest and asked about logistical details, because her dad was a nerd like that and enjoyed his boats and trains, and his nerves about the floor were long forgotten. Nobody mentioned the fact that the guys already knew her apartment had been half destroyed in the little Krang’s attack. It was a fact that, by unspoken agreement, they had all decided to sweep under the rug.
Literally.
Hah.
Anyway, given Carol had slung a whole bunch of rapid-fire questions her way about the boys’ dietary requirements and August was fretting about being judged, April was reasonably sure her parents had come to terms with the fact her four best friends were giant walking turtles with comparative ease. It probably helped they’d been thrown into the deep end of things, even if it had led to super uncomfortable conversations and her parents staring at her as if they were expecting her to don a cape and go fight crime or some dumb stunt. It probably also helped that they knew Donnie and Mikey had come to bail her out, and that they were literally, y’know, responsible for saving the city.
Most of April’s nerves weren’t about the turtle aspect. It was whether her two families would like each other. Which was hilariously one of the most mundane things to worry about, considering literally everything else.
Story of her life, honestly.
She’d just finished squishing a pile of pillows into the corner of the couch when she heard her phone buzz, and fished it out.
Donnie: >> We’re here. Wardrobe check? Puppy eyes face.
Dumbonardo: >> Donnie has no class. 🥺
Donnie: >> Leo has no brain, but you already knew this.
She snorted. Then April glanced toward the kitchen to make sure Carol was busy with the oven and sidled toward the front door, slipping through as quietly as she could.
They were waiting there for her in the hallway. Splinter stood slightly apart from the boys, arms folded and looking sulky, but his fur was neatly washed and combed through and he was wearing a nice shirt which… was more flattering than some things she’d seen on him. April could be that generous. Donnie was wearing his sweater vest combo and standing ramrod straight like someone was about to push him onto a stage—no surprise there—and Mikey was wearing some nice slacks and an orange turtle-neck and beaming widely, carrying a casserole dish.
“Hiii, April,” he whispered. “We clean up good, right?”
“Puttin’ the rest of us to shame, Mikey,” she said with a grin, and gave him a fist bump.
“Speak for yourself,” Leo said lazily, draped over Raph’s shoulder like a blue and green fur stole. He was wearing one of his over-large hoodies; comfort over style, and April was relieved, to be honest. “I think Raph gives him a run for his money.”
April turned to take him in, and-- “Damn, son.” She gave a low whistle at Raph’s white suit and pink shirt, hanging on him pretty stylishly for all that his spikes had already done a number on his elbows. “You go shopping for that? Tell me you didn’t just have that hidden in your room this whole time.”
Raph preened a little before glancing down at the carpeted floor, pushing his fingers together bashfully. “We had to find something nice for Casey to wear anyway, so Raph thought—”
“Raph thought right.” April gave him a double thumbs up. And then frowned. She couldn’t see the last invited guest. “Is he not here?”
“Oh, he’s here,” Leo said quietly, a small helpless smile on his face. “He’s just shy.”
And Raph and Donnie separated so she could peer down the hallway; at Casey, who was literally lurking in the gloomy corner by the entrance to the stairwell, hunched as if trying to make himself small.
April frowned.
“Be nice, April,” Mikey whispered. “He’s, uh…”
“I get it.”
April made her way past them all, coming to a stop in front of Casey. He cleaned up pretty nicely, actually; she wasn’t sure who’d dressed him, but dress jeans and a nice jacket over a dark T-shirt nearly made him look like a different person. His hair was tamed and in a neat braid, and he looked up and gave her the shyest of smiles. “Hi, April. Sorry, uh…”
“Not used to the idea of family dinner?”
“Not really a thing where I come from, no.” He ran a hand through his hair, causing some of the strands to come loose, and she hid a grin. “But it’s not that. Um… are you sure I’m... welcome? I’m not really—”
“You think these guys would take you for a fashion montage if you weren’t?” she said drily. “Mom and Dad know you’re coming, trust me. They’ve made some simpler food just to make sure you can stomach it okay, and they’re looking forward to meeting all of this extended family. Which you are a part of.”
“Tooold youuu,” Leo sing-songed down the hall.
“Shut it, Nardo.”
“You can’t talk to me like that, I’m walking wounded—”
“Who’s walking?”
There was some general cackling. Casey’s next smile was more relaxed, and he let April tug him back down the hallway.
...and then they all jumped as the door to April’s apartment was flung open suddenly and her mother leaned casually in the open frame, tugging her oven mitts off, meeting their deer-in-headlights stares with a wry look of her own.
“Hi—um, that—um--” Donnie pushed forward and saluted her mother, and April clapped a hand over her mouth to stop the laugh. “Hello, Mrs O’Neil! As you can see, I am a sweater vest—I mean—”
Leo made a strangled sound and flopped limply over Raph’s shoulder; he’d have slid down if Raph hadn’t reached out to steady him with a tired move that said he was very used to this happening. “Oh pizza supreme, don’t make me laugh, you know I’m fragile—”
Mikey slapped a hand over Leo’s mouth, smile bright and eyes a little too wide. “Hi, Mrs O’Neil!” he chirped. “It’s nice to meet you, we brought casserole!”
Said casserole was snatched out of his hands a moment later by Splinter, coughing dramatically before he gave a dramatic bow that meant he was mostly addressing Carol’s knees. “I brought casserole, in fact! It’s my traditional green bean casserole, handed down through generations, made for one of my biggest fans!”
Carol raised an eyebrow.
“Dad, we talked about this,” Donnie muttered.
“No, you talked about this,” Splinter huffed. “I was going to come dressed in style, until you rudely tackled me to the ground and took my clothes.”
Carol’s raised eyebrow took on a level of alarm, and April sidled up to her mother with a quick hiss. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”
“No, we did in fact do that,” Donnie said flatly. “Trust me, it was necessary.”
“...okay, it is as bad as it sounds—”
“My own sons,” Splinter grumbled. Then he straightened, beaming at Carol. “Children, am I right? Full of well-meaning hypocrisy. Sure, my son gets to dress as that hack Don Johnson, but when I try to dress as—”
“Yeah, Raph still doesn’t know who that is.”
Splinter wilted. To April’s delight, Carol seemed to wilt right along with him. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
“Well,” her mom said, dry as the desert. “If you’re done making us feel old as dirt, won’t you come in? Unless you want to spend the evening in my hallway doing more fashion checks. I could always bring you a mirror. But if you’ll take my word for it, I think you all look just fine.”
She stepped aside and they filed past, shuffling into the living room more bashfully than April had ever seen them, which was altogether kind of endearing. Carol paused long enough for April to close in with Casey still in hand, and gave him a warm smile that made him relax just a little more.
Then she hissed quietly to April, “Biggest fan?”
Eugh boy. “Yeah, you uh…” April trailed off, wondering if she could just deflect that question with a shrug as if to say she had no clue. But she knew Splinter; he would keep making comments, so better forewarned, right? “You know how you started watching Lou Jitsu movies with me? And, uh, how much you like them? To the point Dad threatened divorce if you mentioned Lou’s tight pants one more time?” Which was an empty threat, given Dad watched those movies almost as closely as her mom did, and April suspected it was for the same reasons. It had been a running joke for a while.
“Yes…?”
“Great! Get ready to be emotionally scarred.”
“...what?”
---------
They introduced themselves properly once they were all inside, and to her credit Carol was still smiling, even if April could see the faintly wild look in her eyes. At least she’d never told Splinter just how much her mom liked him-- enough to say she was a huge fan, nothing more.
“August will be here in a moment,” she said cheerfully. “He’s just finishing up with the roast, and then we’ll serve. You can call us Mr and Mrs O’Neil, or you can call us Carol and August. We don’t mind. It’s lovely to meet you at last. Donatello, your sweater vest looks great.”
Donnie jerked ramrod straight again, voice high-pitched. “Thank you!”
Bless her mom for throwing him a bone. April grinned. “So, this is Splinter, or Hamato Yoshi—”
“You can call me Lou,” Splinter said with a small bow, taking the casserole from his hands with his tail and depositing it onto the table with a flourish. April had never seen him like this. It was hilarious and painful, but the mortified looks on the guys’ faces made it worth it. (Casey just looked clueless. Lucky kid.)
“Nice to meet you, Lou,” Carol said, politely and as if April hadn’t upended her world not thirty seconds ago. Damn, but her mom was good. “And Donnie I’ve already met. Hmm, can I guess the others?”
“Oh, go ahead,” Leo said cheerfully, waving at her from his perch, and her smile softened considerably as she glanced up at him, taking in the curve of bandages just visible through the over-large neck of his hoodie.
“You would be Leo, then. You doing okay, sweetie?”
Leo blinked. “Uh… yes? I mean, of course! I mean—” He darted a look at April, eye ridges raised.
“She knows,” April assured him. “It’s okay.”
Leo grinned in response, letting himself flop loosely in Raph’s grip to finger gun with both hands, and April grinned as Raph obligingly kept hold of him and rolled his eyes. “I may be a little bruised, but I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs O! I also rock a mean sweater vest, but my brothers would only let me travel casual.”
“You’re lucky we let you come at all,” Donnie muttered.
“You’re just jealous because I, unlike some brothers I could mention, did not make my first impression in—”
Then he yelped as Splinter smacked him in the side of the head with his tail. A light smack, April noted with amusement, as Donnie flicked him from the other side. Clearly Leo was slowly losing all his coddling rights.
“Well, a little bruised or not, it’s nice to meet you too,” Carol said easily. “April did tell me you’ve been laid up until just recently, so we’ve made up the couch for you, okay? There’s no shame in tapping out early if you get tired.”
Leo blinked at her, looking taken aback. And then his answering smile was a faintly relieved, hesitant thing as he held out a hand for her to shake, voice small.
“Deal. Thanks, mom.”
You could have heard a pin drop.
“Mom?” Mikey said slyly.
Leo promptly went as red as his stripes and planted his face on Raph’s jacket. But he kept his hand out until Carol shook it—gently, holding back a laugh—and then went full limp noodle. “Case,” he whined. “Help me out here?”
Casey helpfully reached out to tug the hood over his head. Leo gave him a thumbs up.
April dissolved into cackling as Carol turned a carefully blank face on Raph. “April’s told me just enough about all of you, really. You must be Raph. And this sweet little man here must be Mikey?”
She was expecting a clap back from Mikey about being little, so April was very surprised when he just dimpled sweetly and gave her his best I-am-an-innocent-child impression. His cheeks were faintly flushed, and for the first time she wondered if she should be recording this for posterity. That was like… three blushes, so far.
“That’s right! Raph’s all gentle giant and I am just the sweetest little package, baby.”
“I’m sure,” Carol said, straight-faced. And then lastly she turned to Casey, and her smile was warm. “And you’re Casey Jones. Are you nervous?”
“A little,” he admitted, tugging at his braid but he smiled back. “But it’s so nice to meet you again. I mean—sorry, the first time, I’ve just heard a lot about you—”
April blinked, mouth open as she considered that particular insinuation. And wasn’t surprised when Leo’s head suddenly shot up, all sign of embarrassment gone and with a blinding smile. “Yeah, I gotta say April has told us so much about you guys that it does kind of feel like we’ve met you already!”
“Well, then,” Carol said lightly. “You’ll have to tell me all about yourselves to make us even. April’s told us a little this week, but it seems we might have years to catch up on.”
“We would be more than happy to regale you with tales of our exploits,” Splinter beamed back. “And in turn perhaps you could tell me your—”
“And we should all sit down because Dad’s probably almost done,” April said loudly. “Save the talking for after dinner! I’m starved.”
“I should help August bring the dishes out anyway.” Carol gave April a pointed look. “Hon? Would you give me a hand? The rest of you, table’s just through here…”
---------
“What do you mean that’s Lou Jitsu?” August hissed, handing April the cauliflower bake. “He’s a rat. Lou Jitsu isn’t a rat.”
“He is now, babe,” Carol said blandly.
“A rat with four turtle children?”
“And a human child.”
“How does that even—”
“Remember asking about the skeleton, sweet pea?”
“...okay, fine,” he muttered, nose wrinkling. “I’ll be good.”
April eyed them both. “Look at it this way, dad. The longstanding threat to your happy marriage has been removed.”
“April—”
“—O’Neil!”
She burst into giggles and skipped out of the kitchen, balancing the cauliflower and potatoes and the jug of gravy, and wasn’t surprised to find Mikey just outside the kitchen door, making grabby hands for her dishes. April cheerfully palmed them off and returned for more, grinning sunnily at the twin glares of her parents. “Anyway, Casey’s… uh, adopted? That’s the simplest way of explaining him.”
“Gotta admit, I wasn’t expecting the one I find the strangest to be a normal human boy,” Carol mused. She frowned. “Is he the one from the, uh. Future?”
“The future,” her dad repeated back mechanically.
“Shush, dear.”
“Yeah.” And April had both a burning curiosity of how Casey knew her mother in the future and a dread to find out, because she was pretty sure none of them got happy endings where Casey came from. “Best to leave that well alone. Too heavy for a dinner topic.”
“Right. Future discussions are off the table,” August said, with a weary tone that said sure, fine, this might as well happen. “The invasion too, obviously. Anything else we haven’t already covered?”
“No. But just so you know,” April said mildly, “Rats have excellent hearing.”
She nudged aside her suddenly frozen parents, scooped up the roast tray, and sailed back out to the table.
Mikey took that from her, too, apparently intent on setting the table with a certain amount of flare, and April let him, more than happy to watch him handling pans that he might have had difficulty holding a week ago. She knew his arms were still bandaged under the sweater-- and knew also why he was wearing an actual turtleneck, no pun intended. The scarring up to his chin was still fading, but they’d stopped hurting days ago, leaving him with full range of movement.
(“Unless I’m really tired,” he’d said, giving her jazz hands at their last movie night. “So I’m still being careful.”
“Yes,” Draxum had said flatly. “It’s amazing how fast one heals when one actually pays attention to a mystic’s expert advice.” Mikey had thrown a pillow at him, end of discussion.
...which reminded her--)
“Hey, Mikey. Barry knows he’s invited, right?”
That earned her a predictable snort from Leo, who had been settled into a chair by Raph. “I’m not sure Draxum does family dinners.”
“You’d be surprised,” Mikey muttered.
“What was that?”
“I said what a surprise.” He twirled the roast tray once and settled it down on the table with flare. “He’ll be here. Just in time for dessert, he said! He’s looking forward to it.”
“Uh huh.” Donnie eyed him. “You threatened him, didn’t you?”
“I would never.” Mikey waved a finger at them, planting his other hand on his hip. “I merely pointed out it would be sad if he wasn’t included in this family get-together, given he is now family, unless he wants to deny any such attachment, and shunning a family dinner isn’t the proper or the neighbourly thing to do—”
“Oh, my apologies. You emotionally blackmailed him.”
“That’s better.”
“Why dessert?” April wanted to know.
“He’s, uh…” Mikey trailed off. “Well, it. Takes a while to bake brownies.”
Raph squinted. “Draxum is baking. Brownies.”
They all paused to take in that mental image.
“Oh, that’s not going to be edible,” Donnie muttered. “The guy can make a sandwich. Barely.”
“He can make a mean gruel, though,” April said wryly. “I mean. Literally.”
“I left him a recipe!” Mikey defended, though the way his shoulders hunched told April it was more out of loyalty than any actual belief in Barry’s capabilities. She frowned.
“Shoulda just told him store bought was fine, Mikes. Then he’d be here for dinner.”
Mikey gasped theatrically. “First of all, how dare you.” Leo gave a snort at his little brother’s affront and reached out for the gravy boat, flinching back when Mikey slapped his hand away without even looking. “Second! He wanted to try. You don’t want to hurt the nice goat scientist’s feelings, do you?”
“You want an honest answer?” Leo muttered. Mikey yanked his hood violently down over his face.
“Letting him try is just fine,” Splinter said with great generosity, leaning back in his chair. He’d been sporting the same cheesy grin since April walked back in from the kitchen, and that promised to be entertaining. But later. “When he fails, we can point and laugh—”
The way Mikey just teleported right in there to tower over his dad was impressive, and April reached out automatically to grab the back of Splinter’s chair before he could tip it all the way backwards in sheer terror. “We are not doing that.”
“No, we are not,” Raph said comfortingly, hands up as it to forestall a tiny mystic warrior explosion. “I know some will hate to hear it, but Draxum really pulled through for us. We should support him! In his, uh… domestic endeavours.”
“And his mad science endeavours.”
“Donnie.”
“What? I have my interests.”
“I do hate to hear it,” Leo said slowly, and they all turned to look at him as he peered out from his hood like some evil alternate Kermit!Leo. “Buuut you know. There’s petty, and then there’s mean. If he’s trying to be nice, let him try.”
There was silence at the table for a second time.
Then Donnie stood and pointed dramatically. “Who are you and what have you done with our brother?”
“Wow, Leo, that’s very mature of you,” Raph said suspiciously.
“I know, right?” Mikey wiped away a fake tear. “He’s come so far.”
“I am the very model of maturely letting my grudges go,” Leo said, stifling a yawn. “And if he accidentally poisons us all, I can hold it over you for at least a month.”
Oh. That was more like it.
---------
It took her parents longer than strictly necessary to bring out the rest of the food, and April was pretty sure they’d just been schooling their expressions into the most poker-faced they could, mortified by the knowledge that Splinter had probably overheard every word-- and honestly, given that Splinter occasionally gave a small muffled snort into his hand and tried to look innocent every time his sons stared at him, Carol and August were. Probably still talking about him. She was kind of glad she couldn’t hear them. April shoved his chair with a foot as she sat down and levelled him with mock glare over the rim of her glasses.
“Be nice,” she whispered severely.
Splinter leaned towards her to whisper back. “April, such little faith. I am already having the time of my life at this dinner. Why would I do anything to spoil the mood? I know how to act around fans.”
“These aren’t just fans, these are my parents.”
“Well, I know how to act around parents, too,” he said, waggling his eyebrows and outright leering, oh god. “I was a teenager, once, and dating was—”
“Please stop talking,” she hissed.
Splinter gave her a wide and mischievous grin, and that’s when it occurred to her he was being a little shit on purpose. But his smile faded, and he folded his hands delicately on the table in front of him. “Trust me. I know this is important.”
She breathed out. Yeah, okay. She did, after all, trust him, and he had dressed nicely for dinner. If he was truly set on arriving dressed as his eighties-Lou-Jitsu persona, April was pretty sure the guys wouldn’t have been able to stop him.
“What’s important?” Mikey said from the other side of the table, and she glanced up to find the others looking at them with curiosity.
“Good table manners,” Splinter said mildly. “Which means you should all stop leaning on the tablecloth like that. Elbows off!”
They all immediately pulled back and sat primly at the table, looking various shades of guilty—except for Casey, who flinched back from the tablecloth as if it might bite him. Poor guy had no reference for things like this, did he?
“Surprised you know decent table manners,” Donnie muttered.
“If it is such a surprise to you, I have failed as a father and we shall practice them more often at home.”
“Don’t you—”
“Leo,” April interrupted, watching Leo list faintly to the side. “You’re hurt. Nobody’s gonna care if you keep leaning.”
“Thank you,” he said fervently, and promptly flopped forward again, just as the kitchen door swung open.
Oh, good. Her parents had gotten over their crisis and were ready to feed the hungry. Carol hip-checked the door with her arms full of dishes and Mikey immediately jumped to his feet to help, and she shook her head at him, smiling gratefully. “I’m okay. But if you could help August with the glasses—”
“On it!” he said cheerfully and caught the door for her, holding it until she was clear before vanishing inside.
Carol smiled widely at the table and the guys smiled back, some smiles more natural than others—Donnie still looked like he was trying to get A Good Grade In Family Dinner—and she slid her burden of plates easily onto the table around the roast platter.
“Okay, so it’s a bit more buffet style than a usual roast dinner, but I thought that would be better, given I don’t know what you’d prefer. Casey, hon?” She favoured him with a warm look, and Casey straightened even more. “I’ve got both seasoned and steamed vegetables here, and a few alternatives in case the meat is too much for you to handle. The seasoned ones are on the spicy side. April tells me you’re still getting used to richer food?”
“Oh…” Casey blinked, darting a look at April that was both surprised and faintly grateful, and she huffed. She’d told him this already. Did he think she’d lied to him? “That’s—yes, that’s right, ma’am. I appreciate it, I’m sorry you had to go to so much effort—”
“None of that.” She handed him a plate. “This is a dinner for all of us. I’d feel like a lousy host if you couldn’t enjoy it. Pick and choose as you like, take it slowly. No one’s gonna judge. That includes the rest of you, just FYI.”
“No judgement!” Raph saluted, eyes darting to Donnie. “We appreciate it, Mrs O.”
“Thank you,” Donnie muttered quietly, eyes on the tablecloth.
“You’re very welcome.”
Mikey exited the kitchen with a tray of glasses and August trailed behind him with a collection of bottles-- soda and juice, and something that distinctly looked like the wine from the top of the fridge, and April squinted at it before raising an eyebrow at her dad.
“None for minors,” he whispered back. “Liquid courage.”
She snorted. “You’ll be fine.”
“But will your mom?”
“I heard that.” Carol snatched the wine away and deposited it by Splinter, whose eyes lit up. “Anyway. We’re sorry to keep you all waiting. Dig in! Don’t wait on us, there’s plenty for everyone.”
Leo put his hand up. “I admire your optimism, but I still vote Raph goes last. He’ll inhale everything here if he gets the chance—”
“Leo!” Raph sounded scandalised.
“What?” Donnie said, finally looking up with a more natural smirk on his face. “You know he’s right.”
“There’s a lot of me!” The poor guy was going as red as his mask, and April hid a grin. “You know Raph’s still a growing boy!”
“Raph can have as much food as he likes,” Carol said firmly, reaching up to pat him on the shoulder. God, April loved her mom so much. She was just rolling with this table of lunatics. “I honestly wasn’t sure how much to cook, so we’ve got plenty extra even if you do somehow inhale everything here. Just try not to inhale the dishes.”
“I would never,” Raph said, sounding horrified. “Turtle’s honour—”
April burst into giggles. “She’s joking, Raph, chill.”
“Oh.” Raph blinked. He met Carol’s gaze, who stared unflinchingly back and held up a hand.
Raph blinked again. Then he hesitantly gave her a high five, watched Carol’s smile grow, and finally grinned, the tension going right out of his shoulders.
April loved to see it.
“Aight, everyone,” she said, clapping her hands. “No more picking on Raph unless you want me to poke fun at you fussy eaters to make it even. Dig in, and don’t you dare insult my mama’s cooking.”
“We would never!” came the chorus.
Yeah. This should’ve happened years ago.
---------
The meal passed with some minor chatter—mostly complimenting the chef and asking for plates of food to be passed around. Mikey helped Casey pick out some simpler fare for his plate and he ate sparingly, but the expression on his face said he savoured every moment of it. Donnie was similarly picky for Donnie reasons, and looked faintly apologetic about the whole thing until April kicked him gently under the table and sent him a text.
April: >> Dad has sensory issues >> dw abt it
He relaxed a little after that, flashed her a small relieved smile, and even unwound from his stage fright enough to engage in conversation with her dad about the subway station and its abandoned trains. Mikey and Raph ate with their usual flare, though Mikey paused on each individual dish to gleefully exchange cooking tips with her mom. Splinter was surprisingly well-mannered, given April had seen him more than enough times with cake crumbs all throughout his fur.
Leo was being uncharacteristically picky, but he’d only come off a simple diet himself not so long ago, and the painkillers would be doing a number on his appetite. Raph and Donnie were both piling his favourites on his plate and he was clearly enjoying the food, but April had never seen him eating so slowly before, still balancing one arm on the table to support himself. Poor guy.
She wasn’t the only one to notice. Carol watched him waver and frowned. “You doing okay, Leo?”
He promptly flashed a peace sign at her, beaming. “Oh, for sure! I’m just a little low on energy. Kinda want a little bit of everything here, but—“
“Spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak?”
“Hah…” His grin became rueful, and he lowered the fork to his plate. “Not weak enough to stop me eating your delicious food! Tragically, I have no devoted servant to feed me lovingly by hand, so I’ll make do.”
“Um—”
“That was absolutely a joke, Case, don’t you dare.”
April grinned at Casey as he wilted back into his own seat. But okay, yeah, she could read the signs—from Leo’s slouch, growing worse by the minute, and the glances from his brothers that probably weren’t as surreptitious as they hoped. April nudged her mother quietly and made a meaningful gesture toward the living room, and Carol gave her a thumbs up and kept smiling pleasantly as if nothing had happened. “Well, I’m glad my delicious food has such a draw to it. I heard Barry is gracing us with a visit and dessert, is that right?”
Donnie visibly shuddered, but Mikey beamed as if she’d complimented his six year old son’s bronze swimming medal. “Yeah! He’s making brownies! He assures me they’ll be edible.”
“Consider me assured,” Carol said dryly. “I must say I’ve never tried Barry’s cooking before this in any form. We invited him for dinner a few times but he always refused. I guess I know why, now.”
Splinter peered at her. “You do?”
“Well, uh…” She looked sheepish. “I never really saw him out of his robe. He seemed like such a shut-in at the time, but… I guess dressing for dinner might have given away a few things.”
“Ah yes, that sounds like Draxum,” Splinter muttered. “Shut-in, barely bothers dressing—”
“Sounds like someone else we know,” Leo said sweetly, and Splinter choked.
“Leo defended Barry,” Mikey whispered in awe, and Leo pointed his fork at him.
“Leo saw low hanging fruit and went for it,” he corrected. “Besides, something about houses and stones? Isn’t that how it goes? Don’t throw glass at a stone house, it’s pointless and makes a mess?”
“Nardo, that is not how it goes and you know it--”
Carol coughed politely. “If you’re done being mean to your elders…” They all shut up and tried to look innocent—save Splinter, who merely stared back at his sons mournfully as if he could not believe the wrong they’d done him. “It seems there might be a pause between dinner and dessert, so I was going to suggest you kids go pile up in the living room after and go through our movie collection. August and I can continue to pick on your dad in your absence.”
“You can?” Splinter said warily.
“In a manner of speaking.” Her smile was warm, and maybe only April saw the sharpness around its edges this time, and she swallowed. But… again, she knew this was coming, too. “A parent to parent talk, as it were. Nothing too serious, I promise.”
And it gave them a good reason to transfer Leo to the couch without him feeling like he was ruining anything. April grinned to see his eyes light up at the idea.
“Oh, are you roasting our dad, too? That seems so fitting given the spread—”
“I dunno, Leo, a roast followed by a roast seems a bit overkill,” Mikey said thoughtfully.
“There’s no such thing as too much delicious roast.” Leo leaned forward. Which also had the effect that he could support his weight entirely on the table, April noted. “We’d be more than happy to clear out of your amazing hair until the totally safe brownies arrive.”
Carol transferred her smile back to him, the sharpness gone. “You can take your plate with you, if you like. I don’t want you to feel you have to rush through eating. April, could you find him one of our TV trays?”
“I’m sure that’s doable.” Actually, at this point she had no idea if those had survived the home invasion, but there was one way to find out. “Is everyone else done? I could help clear the plates—”
“No, that’s fine, hon. Your dad and I will clear the table.” Carol gave her a peck on the cheek and a small, meaningful squeeze to her shoulder. “You stay with your friends. August?”
August blinked up at her, startled, half a potato still speared on his fork. “Oh, now? But I just-- okay.” And he shoved the potato into his mouth, fork and all, to gather up empty dishes.
Leo watched him do it, and smiled lazily.
Then there was a sudden quiet after both of them vanished into the kitchen, and he slumped forward.
“That was… an attempt at subtlety, right?”
April grinned. “Dad doesn’t do subtle too well, that’s for sure. But they’re parents, Leo. They’re just worried about you.”
“They only just met me,” he grumbled, resting his head on his arm. “They’re really nice, but—”
“My mom probably decided you were adoptable at about the point Donnie made high-pitched noises in her general direction, my guy. Just accept her concern and move on.”
“Oh. So good to know my humiliation had some kind of strategic effect,” Donnie muttered, reaching across the table to snag Leo’s plate. “You want any more while we’re here?”
“...I’m fine.”
“Well, Raph wouldn’t mind a bit more beef,” Raph said comfortably, sharing a glance with Casey over his head. “And some potatoes! We can just use Leo’s plate for that.”
“Blue?” Splinter was quiet and out of his chair, patting his knee, and Leo lifted his head to peer at him. “You are okay, aren’t you?”
“Man, all this fuss.” Leo grinned faintly. “I promise I’m fine--”
Mikey loomed on his other side, not saying a word.
“—okay, maaaybe I wasn’t quite ready for sitting upright at a table for so long.” He made a face. “But I refuse to be banned from the O’Neil family dinner! You know how long we’ve waited for this—”
“Well, congrats, achievement unlocked,” April said, holding out her fist, and he obligingly bumped it with his own. “Now go curl up on our couch and quit your whining.”
“I wasn’t whining!”
Donnie raised an eyebrow. “He whined, whiningly.”
“Raaaph, they’re picking on me!” Leo whined.
Raph raised an eyebrow. “You wanna complain about it some more or do you want the comfy couch?”
“...couch, please.”
---------
Splinter stayed at the table, waving them off dramatically with a napkin, but the smile he gave April as she left was reassuring. It settled her nerves a little—she wasn’t stupid, she knew what was coming—and so she trailed after Raph as he carted Leo into the living room and settled him on the couch, burying him in comforters.
The sigh of relief Leo made as he sank into the cushions was more than enough to convince her that the move was well timed. “Heaven. I think everyone at family dinners should laze on a couch, honestly.”
“We’d need more couches for that.”
“That could be arranged,” Donnie said, passing a bottle to Casey and then… dropping to his hands and knees to investigate the carpet. What. April folded her arms and watched him.
“I think they’d need more room for the couches,” Casey said, opening the bottle—and oh, those were Leo’s painkillers.
“That could also be—”
“Donnie.” She scowled at him. “What are you doing?”
“Checking the damage,” he said absently, finally finding the edge of the carpet section and peeling it back, scowling at the torn up flooring beneath. “Huh. Bishop really refused to help pay for this?”
“Yeah, well. Bishop also didn’t arrest me for, I dunno, cavorting with evil yokai or whatever, so. I’ll take it.”
“This balance doesn’t add up,” Leo said mildly, taking his pills from Casey and his glass of juice. “Mr Edgelord also put you in danger in the first place. And your parents. Who we are adopting, by the way.”
“I don’t think it works that way—”
“It does, I don’t make the rules. Donnie, verdict?”
“Huh?” Donnie peered up at him. “Oh yeah, yeah, I guess we can adopt.”
“I meant the floor. But okay! Duly noted.”
Mikey started cackling as April threw her hands up and went on a hunt for the TV trays. Donnie blinked at Leo for a moment, then turned back to run his hands over the damage, flicking his goggles down. “I’m not much of a handyman type, but it looks like the structural integrity is intact. It’s just cosmetic and not particularly safe to walk on in the dark. Though that… is an understatement. The Krang did this?”
“Barry did, actually.” The TV trays had survived after all. April fished one out from its hiding place and passed it over to Raph. “But if he hadn’t, I’d probably be kind of torn to pieces, so--” She broke off to smile softly at Raph as he full-body flinched, and then stumbled as Mikey latched onto her like a koala. “Sorry. Anyway, I figure I’d give him a pass on that one.”
Leo slow blinked at her, resting his chin on the back of the couch, and his smile was an oddly cold one. “Yeah. Seems fair. Donnie, you still got a back door into Bishop’s stuff and things?”
Donnie hadn’t looked up, and his voice was very flat. “First of all, stuff and things is like literally the lamest way you could explain a black ops infrastructure, and second of all, why is it you just assume I would still be in his systems now that we’re—”
“Dee.”
“He’s upgraded his security in the past week. I’m doing the digital equivalent of eating popcorn and sidestepping his laughable experts.”
“Good to know. I s’pose getting on his nerves wouldn’t be the smart thing to do right now.”
“It is the opposite of smart. But the EPF is already footing the bill for the O’Neil hotel stay, I don’t see why they can’t shell out for the floor as well.” Donnie finally sat up, flicking his goggles back, and frowned at the scratched walls. “New paint job all round, actually.”
Leo nodded in satisfaction and settled into his nest of comforters, taking the tray from Raph who was surprisingly… not seeming even slightly upset about the whole idea of stealing money from a bunch of amoral secret agents.
April opened her mouth and shut it. “Uh—”
Donnie finally smiled at her. “Don’t worry about it.”
“But—”
“Seriously, he deserves it.”
“That’s not the part I’m worried about!” she snapped, and she waved an arm at Donnie as aggressively as she could with Mikey still limpet-clinging to her from behind. “You guys are on thin ice with him as it is—”
“So?” Leo said, eyes drifting shut. “He’s also on thin ice with us.”
“April.” Donnie finally got to his feet to regard her intently, leaning on the edge of the couch and deftly avoiding Leo’s attempt to nudge him with a foot. “I see you’re worried, but please give me some credit for basic money laundering tactics. The man’s never going to notice where the money actually went, if he even notices it’s gone at all. He’s got bigger fish to fry and it’s not as if we took millions.”
“You know, it says a lot when you say ‘basic money laundering tactics’ and everyone just rolls with it,” she said wryly, but her hackles settled a little. Bishop did deserve a little payback. She just didn’t want them painting even more of a target on their backs. “Raph? You sure you’re okay with this?” He was quiet and looked a little troubled, so--
“Well, see, the thing you gotta remember is…” Raph paused, clasping his hands together in front of him for a moment, and then exhaled gustily.
“...Raph only got to hit him once.”
There was a brief pause.
Leo burst into laughter, then hissed an ow and sank out of sight onto the couch, which caused Raph to dive for him with a panicked look. April wasn’t particularly concerned, given she could see Donnie rolling his eyes. She huffed a faint laugh herself, finally relaxing, and was rewarded with a squeeze of her shoulders and a full hug from behind.
“He messes with family, we mess with him!” Mikey said cheerfully in her ear. “Just go with it, April. You know Donnie covers his tracks.”
“Hmm.” But she smiled anyway, reaching up to pat his head. “Okay. Not gonna complain, as long as I can find a way to explain to my parents. But seriously—don’t go getting arrested or dissected or whatever on my account.”
“Depends on if we get a sequel or not,” Leo wheezed from the couch, resurfacing as Raph helped him sit back up.
“You sure you’re okay?” Raph said, still fretting.
“Oh, peachy. I can’t believe you punched a government agent and I didn’t get to see it.”
“Skill issue,” Donnie said, sounding bored. “Don’t get kidnapped next time, idiot.”
“Wow, rude. Raph, throw a pillow at him for me.”
“Yeah, Raph’s not doing that. Eat your dinner.”
“Aw, c’mon--”
A cushion sailed across the room and clipped Donnie in the face, sending him reeling backward, and Mikey caught it on the rebound, hollering. “For Leo’s honour!”
“You got kidnapped too, you know—”
“For my honour! For everyone’s honour except yours!”
“GASP!”
And the room promptly descended into chaos, which honestly she’d been expecting sooner than this. April just grinned, clicking her phone camera on to record Mikey’s subsequent attempted pillow beat-down of a hissing Donatello. Raph alternated between snorted laughter, half-hearted attempts at lectures, and trying to keep Leo’s tray of food balanced while Leo picked roast potato daintily off the plate with his fingers like popcorn, observing the proceedings with glee. He caught April’s filming and nearly choked, before sinking back out of sight on the couch again with a wave of his greasy fingers as April giggled.
It took her a few moments to realise that Casey had vanished from the room.
---------
“They sound like they’re having fun,” Carol noted.
“They’re probably destroying your living room,” Splinter replied glumly, taking the glass of wine August offered him. “Boys.”
“I’m sorry. Have you seen our child?”
“...teenagers.”
“Better.” Carol grinned and offered her own glass for a toast. “Here’s to new friendships?”
“Very traditional!” But he beamed anyway, clinking against her glass and then August’s. “To new friends and old fans. Aaand awkward conversations.”
Ah. “Kind of obvious, isn’t it?”
“A little.” His smile faded, showing a seriousness that seemed somehow out of place. “But you are good parents and April thinks the world of you. If we did not have this conversation, I would be a little concerned.”
August took his seat again, sitting far more relaxed now that the kids had gone, and tapped the rim of his own glass. “Your boy, Leo. How did he get so hurt?”
Something flickered through Splinter’s eyes that she couldn’t quite catch, and he stared down at his wine, mouth twisting. “A very long story. All of my boys were hurt during the invasion, but Blue unfortunately took the brunt of it. I am as proud of them as I was terrified for them.” His voice was far too mild for that statement and all the depth it contained, and Carol bit her lip as he tossed half the glass back.
Then he beamed at them. “But that is not the question you really want to ask.”
No. No, it wasn’t.
Carol needed to know, but she wasn’t sure how to phrase it and found herself hesitating for other reasons besides—so she glanced to August, who had a knack for being terribly blunt at times. He gave her a brief nod, and put his glass down.
“How safe is our daughter?”
Straight to the point. Splinter took a smaller drink, and met his gaze.
“All things being equal, far safer than the average teenager.”
August frowned unhappily, and his voice was flat. “She was involved in an alien invasion. They came to our house. Her nose was broken—”
“Lou,” Carol said softly. “We’re just worried about her. Your boys weren’t just here for the invasion, they fought on the front line. And so did she. Didn’t she?”
“Your daughter,” Splinter said steadily, “Took out one of those aliens with a wrecking ball. She blinded it, one eye at a time.”
“Is that meant to make us feelbetter?” August demanded, and Splinter turned a sober gaze on him. “We know April can look after herself. She shouldn’t have to. How much danger is she in just by associating with your family?”
“August.” Her voice was sharper that time.
“I’m sorry,” her husband said more quietly. “I don’t mean it quite like that—they’re obviously good kids. You should know, the turtle and rat thing is… confusing, but in the end that isn’t what this is about.”
Splinter smiled a little. “What this is about is that you think my boys dragged April into their fight and made her a target. Has April ever told you how long she has known them for?”
August paused, but it was only to calculate the passage of time. They both knew when it was that April had come home talking about the boys she’d met on the roof. Six… seven years ago? Maybe eight? And...ah.
“This is the first time she’s been in trouble,” Carol said, feeling relieved. She understood. After all, holding an alien invasion against Splinter’s family would be extremely rude. April could have been hurt worse if she didn’t know such powerful people--
“Oh no,” Splinter said bluntly. “She’s definitely been in trouble before this.”
“...what?”
“Let’s see…” He sipped his wine. “She’s been captured by your upstairs neighbour at least twice by my count—”
“What.”
“Don’t make those faces, he was nice enough to let her go again. Then there was the fiasco with Big Mama and Shredder, the yokai train, tangling with the Foot clan and fighting at the stadium—”
August stood up. “I’m sorry, she was at the stadium? When that maniac was threatening to wipe out the human race!?”
Splinter raised an eyebrow. “You do know who that maniac was, don’t you?”
---------
April found Casey in her bedroom—or half in, half out, leaning out the window and breathing in the night air. She could hear sharp voices carry over from the kitchen window, and distorted with only a word here or there making it through, but she recognised her mother’s voice all right, shrill with stress, and winced. Splinter had said to trusthim. She was wondering if that had been a bad call.
She sat on the window ledge next to Casey, and he jumped, smacking his head on the window frame before ducking back inside. “Commander—I mean. April. Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“To get some space?” she asked dryly.
“Well…”
Casey rubbed his head for a moment with a wince, then pulled himself inside, and April listened briefly to the yelling before she decided to resist all temptation and closed the window. She didn’t want to hear it, really. It would just make her feel awful and she’d be hearing the fallout soon enough.
“I did come out for space, and to see where the rats, uh. Came in. Or tried to? I felt—felt like it should be looked at,” Casey said awkwardly. “The eavesdropping was unintentional.”
“I believe you,” April said easily. She did. He wasn’t the type—or at least, she didn’t think so. None of them knew him too well, yet. “All quiet on the rat front?”
“Oh, yeah. I mean… evil alien rats, anyway.” He smiled a little. “I think there’s some normal ones further down.”
“Guess we’ll have to live with that.”
They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the laughter coming from the living room. Her light was off, but there was enough coming in from outside that she could just catch Casey’s wistful look at the door, and April nudged him gently with a shoulder.
“You wanna go back out?”
“...in a minute. Just… getting my head in order.”
“Too busy? Too loud?” She hesitated. “Weird seeing more people you used to know?”
He jumped a little at that, turning to look at her in the gloom. “How did you—”
“Kind of obvious, Future Boy,” she said dryly. “’Nice to meet you again’?”
“Aheh.” He ducked his head. “Yeah, I guess I’m not so good on the spot. I was… trying to prepare myself for seeing them again, but it was so different once I did.”
“More of a shock than meeting those idiots again?” She gestured toward the living room.
“A little. The turtles—when they grow up, they’re a lot bigger. Sensei is so much taller! And Uncle Raph was huge.” He smiled, looking down at his hands. “And like-- you were an adult. Commander O’Neil. I knew what you would all look like from the photo, and it was kind of like… meeting you all for the first time, even though-- well. It’s complicated.”
He really wasn’t good at it, was he? Not giving things away. Sensei is taller. Raph was huge. It told her so much. It was painful, and a small part of her turned over in grief-- an empathetic grief for the kid next to her, a pang of knowing it could have been so much worse. She was so relieved she could hear Raph through the door. (...yelling “Not the gravy!” which, eugh boy, okay, she would pretend she didn’t hear that.)
Then it occurred to her what Casey was trying to say, and April froze. It didn’t mean anything. They’d avoided the whole apocalypse thing. But--
“My parents… they look the same to you?”
Casey shrugged. “Well, they’re already grown adults. They’re not gonna get another five feet taller or something weird.”
Oh. Oh, that was… she was an idiot. “Hah,” she said after a moment with a small laugh. “For a sec, I thought you meant they like... died young. Or—”
And she felt the silence change, in that dark room.
An idiot twice over—looking at the crystal stillness of Casey’s reaction to her opening her dumbass mouth, April curled up on the seat next to him and knew she’d basically tripped into a minefield. A personal one, because this wasn’t just people Casey had known and grieved.
They’re not dead. They were yelling at Splinter two rooms over, words echoing off the fire escape outside, and she tried to focus on the more rational dread that they were gonna try and stop her from seeing the guys. But…
...she couldn’t stop her stupid brain from picking over the what ifs.
Casey saved her the struggle, touching her arm gently in the dark. “Do you…” He swallowed and tried again. “You wanna hear about them? I’ve probably given you the wrong impression. Well… half of one.”
She found her voice, rough, and forced a smile. “Not if it’s gonna stress you out. Besides—” And this time she stopped herself in time, because saying it’s never gonna happen now, right? to someone who had lived those events was so cheap and awful. It had sure happened for Casey.
“I don’t mind,” he said. “Uh, if you want to know… it might. Actually help.”
Share the grief, huh. Let him not be alone with some of this.
April breathed out. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
---------
“Oh! And there was that one time when she accidentally got a job with an evil ninja organisation, but now that I think about it that was sheer bad luck...”
Carol was getting a headache. She refilled her glass, trying to sort out whether she wanted to laugh or scream or just throw a wine bottle at Lou, which definitely hadn’t featured on her list of Ways To Impress Him before she realised he was now a mutated father of four turtle boys. August had left the room, but the door to the kitchen was open and so she knew he was still listening; he was going through the bottles on the fridge perhaps a touch more violently than he needed to.
“Lou,” she said wearily, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I don’t get you. I would have thought you’d be trying to show us how safe she was with you, not—”
“Not be honest?”
She startled, glancing up to find him watching her shrewdly, and the smile that tucked into the corner of his mouth was an amused one, which made her bristle. Splinter put down his empty glass—his second glass, and he was still very sober in a way she wished she was not—and leaned forward. “Sure! I could have said, ‘Mr and Mrs O’Neil! My boys lead very boring lives! The worst scrape they’ve ever been in was an unfortunate one involving a skateboard and a cat and one too many magnets, and this alien invasion was a complete anomaly! Of course it will never happen again!’ That certainly is one way to lie to your face. I can think of more subtle attempts, but—”
“So you’re making fun of us?” August’s voice wafted from the kitchen, curt, and there was the snap-fizz sound of a fresh can of something being opened. Lord, Carol hoped it was strong and her husband was about to share. “You’re treating this whole situation with such irreverence that—”
“August.” Her voice was too sharp, and she softened it before she continued. “He’s not making fun. Maybe he’s being a bit of an ass, but—”
“I’m being a whole ass, thank you very much,” Splinter said mildly, and she pointed at him, baring her teeth.
“You are not helping. Tell me why.”
He raised his eyebrows at her in genuine curiosity. “Why be honest? Seriously?”
Carol paused, retort dying on the tip of her tongue.
Because. Because while he was telling them in the most irreverent way, it was the truth. Their lives were crazy and chaotic, and he was saying to expect nothing less. That the insanity of their lives had reached out and snagged their daughter at an early age, that—that she’d already been a target before these aliens came along. That Barry wasn’t who he said he was, had been a danger well before this and she’d been trying to introduce him to a daughter he’d apparently already kidnapped twice by that point--
Wait. That didn’t make sense.
“Barry saved April from the zombies,” she said slowly. “And reunited us. Are you saying that’s an act?”
“Good grief, no.” He tapped his empty glass and made a mournful sound, and one ear twitched back. “Much as I hate to give him any credit, Draxum is a changed goat. There is much behind his early motivations that I enthusiastically suggest you ask him about, if for no other reason than that it would be funny! But he just needed to see the bigger picture—that not all humans seek the destruction of anything they don’t understand.” He raised his eyebrows. “I am not sure if he would have come to that conclusion so quickly if it were not for your daughter. She is absolutely his favourite human, you know.”
There was a soft click as August exited the kitchen, shutting the door softly behind him. He came bearing another two bottles of wine and an opened can of Twisted Tea. Carol smiled at him, and he smiled back tiredly, a smile that faded into seriousness as he looked at Splinter. “Do you trust him?”
“With everything but money and my dignity,” Splinter said at once. “He’s a jerk, but he’s our jerk, I suppose.”
“You could have led with that.”
“I could have,” he said agreeably. They waited for him to explain further.
He didn’t.
“Okay,” Carol said finally, accepting the can from her husband and nodding as he refilled glasses all round. “So, what? You gave us a litany of horrific danger that our daughter has been involved with because…”
“Because to lie would have been extremely disrespectful, and you both seem strong enough to take the truth—oh thank you—” To August as his glass was refilled, and he snatched it up. “Of course I do not want you to separate the children. But you are both her parents, and good people, and you deserve to know all the facts so you can make a decision without any of us pretending that anything about this is normal.”
“As if it were as easy as that,” August muttered. “She’s already eighteen.”
“Well, that’s a you problem, I’m afraid.” Splinter sipped his wine. “But I’ve told you all about the disaster situations our children like to land themselves in. That’s only the ones I know of, mind you.”
“That’s so much better, thank you.”
“You’re welcome!” He cackled, offering his glass up for a toast. Carol gave him one, half-heartedly, and he favoured her with a softer smile.
“Now, I have a question for you,” he said. “How often has she come home hurt? Upset? Scared?”
August went to retort and then paused, looking thoughtful. Carol glanced between them both and frowned, thinking back. April had been hurt before… there was a sprained ankle she knew had come from an accident at school. A few minor bruises from early scraps with that girl with the purple hair. Nothing she wouldn’t expect from an outspoken teenage girl who picked fights with bullies.
Nothing that had raised alarms, until now. Until April’s poor face, bruising turning her skin even darker, coated in dust with blood in her hair, because aliens had attacked them directly. Because Agent Bishop had set them up as bait, which was a fault that could be laid at his doorstep, not the Hamatos’.
It took an alien invasion.
“I cannot make promises about how safe she will be. How safe any of them will be.” Splinter spoke gently now, drawing circles around the rim of his glass with a claw. He glanced up to meet their gaze. “Chaos magnet teenagers, the lot of them. But I will tell you that she is their big sister, and they would never let anything happen to her. And I will protect my family with everything I have. All of them.” He paused, then flashed a small smile. “It turns out I don’t do too bad a job!”
“All things being equal, you said,” Carol murmured.
“Yes, well. One would hope we don’t have to deal with anything as ridiculous as alien invasions again.” Splinter made a face. “They’re so exhausting! Barring city-destroying events, I truly think your daughter is safer than the average teenage girl. And I swear, large amounts of time go past in which the most exciting thing to happen is we’re late returning a DVD to the store, or the pizza order is wrong.” He paused. “...actually, that second one is generally a cause for alarm—”
Carol snorted in amusement, and she was relieved to see a faint smile on August’s face as well. “So. Family, huh?”
“Er, well. I know she already has a father and all,” Splinter muttered. “Just think of me as, I don’t know, cool wine uncle Randall.”
“Randall?”
“Oh, and while you are considering what to do—” Splinter put his hands together. “Please take into account that we would miss her a great deal. But also, she is the intelligent one. I would appreciate it if you did not remove the brain cell from my boys…?”
Carol grinned outright. “I’m sorry, are you sure you know my daughter that well? Because—”
---------
Carol O’Neil died when Casey was seven.
“There weren’t a lot of kids on base,” he said. “I mean-- there were bunkers, and civilians and their families mostly hid there, all through the cave systems below us… but for kids whose parents were active soldiers and had no one else-- I think there was maybe four of us all up. My mom and yours knew each other pretty well. Mrs O’Neil gave her a lot of advice about kids. I mean, my mom was your age, so…” He paused, staring into the darkness for a long moment with a mild frown. “You guys were friends, too. A long time ago.”
“Your mom and me?” April asked tentatively.
“Yeah. So I got to see you guys a lot as a kid. You worked out in the field more with my mom, and you’d both come back after days on end and mom would demand reports from the playroom and you’d laugh at her.” He grinned at her in the gloom. “But I’d see Mrs O’Neil a lot more because she stayed at base. I think she did a lot of behind the scenes stuff—I was too young to really get it. But I know she looked after us, too, and made sure we ate and got clean and slept safely. Ran drills for us on what to do if we were attacked. Where to run, where to hide. That kinda thing.”
Wonderful way for a kid to grow up. She gave him a small smile. “Mom does like to boss people around. She’s real nice about it, though.”
“Yeah, she is. And she’s, uh. Fierce when threatened.”
And a mama bear through and through. The Krang tried to take out the base while diverting most of the resistance fighters to another location, and they had to run. And Carol had made them go first and put herself between a bunch of scared kids and a pack of Krang war dogs. Casey didn’t see it happen. But he heard it, on the other side of the heavy trap door, too small to really understand what was going on, huddling with three other kids in the corner of the tiny secret basement.
He spared April the details. Her imagination had no problem filling them in for him, and April curled her knees up to her chest, wishing she couldn’t see it so clearly. A sick feeling curled in her gut, and she tried to remind herself her parents were still two rooms over with Splinter, but--
“It was a bad day for… everyone,” he said slowly. “The Krang hit us hard on two fronts, and we lost a lot of people that day. Including—” He broke off, and winced. “Well. Sensei and Master Donatello were the ones that pulled the survivors out, and I don’t remember much following. But I know the base was trashed and we had to move. That… happened, sometimes. Less as time went on.”
So her mom was a casualty among… dozens? Hundreds? More? She had trouble wrapping her head around the numbers and, if she were being honest, April didn’t want to think too hard about it. It was awful enough as it was. There was an odd, terrible relief that her mom hadn’t been singled out somehow. Because she’d seen what the Krang liked to do when they hated someone personally.
It was still a horrible way to die.
(There were no good ways to die in an apocalypse, huh?)
“You okay?”
She blinked, and found Casey much closer than he’d been a moment ago, hovering in concern, and April unclenched her fingers from each other and gave him a wan smile. “Hey, I knew going in it wouldn’t be pretty. I’m more worried about you.”
“You don’t need to be,” he said softly. “This was a long time ago.”
“Time doesn’t magically make things better.”
“I guess not,” he murmured. “But I grew up with this story. This is the first time you’ve heard it.” And he sounded so apologetic about it that she patted his shoulder.
“S’okay, Future Boy. I appreciate knowing. My mom was a total badass to the end, right?”
His smile was hesitant, but there all the same. “Right.”
She took a breath. “So, in for a penny, blah blah blah. If you’re up for it…?”
“...yeah.”
“Dad… did he outlive Mom?”
“By a whole lot.” His smile faded. “I really didn’t know him much until after Mrs O’Neil passed. And then he was kind of everywhere. He threw himself right into intelligence support, and he was so good at it—his strength was logistics and efficiency of movement on a mass scale, and we were still struggling with organisation, so… he and Master Donatello worked together a lot. He wasn’t a fighter, your dad, not like your mom. But he knew his stuff, and I know a lot of his ideas helped keep our home safe and our supply lines going as long as possible. He worked way too much—you came to drag him back to his room so many times.”
Wow. Was it weird to feel proud of her future and now non-existent dad? She hoped he’d never have to go through something similar. August was generally a laid back, quieter guy who enjoyed his trains and ships as hobbies.
That he’d weaponised his knowledge was amazing, but also heartbreaking. April could read between the lines just fine—he buried himself in work because Mom was dead.
“I can’t tell you exactly how he...uh.” Casey bit his lip. “We were always kind of awkward around each other. I think because of Mrs O’Neil. So I kept my distance.”
April frowned. “He can’t possibly have blamed you kids for Mom’s death. I’ll kick his ass. I’ll march right into the kitchen now--”
That surprised a laugh out of him. “No! No, I don’t think he did. But… you know. She died, and we were there. I think… it was just a reminder. And every time I saw him, I’d remember her too, and it just—it was like this presence in the room, I guess. By the time both of us got around to being rational about it, things were just weird. And I wasn’t really a logistics guy and had other places to be, so… we just let things go.”
She wondered what had happened to the other kids. The answer was obvious, given… well, everything. April kept her mouth shut and let Casey tell her the rest: that, actually, her Dad had survived up until the last days before Casey was thrown through Mikey’s time portal. That it was only when they were close to a full rout that he finally fell, along with the rest of the base personnel. That, as far as Casey knew, April had been with him when he died.
And by the clipped, hesitant way he spoke, constantly glancing to her as he paused and searched for words—giving her this heavily edited version, trying not to give her any other information—April could gather that she’d probably died at the same time.
That they all had, maybe. With the base down, and the guys choosing to send Casey back more than twenty years instead of continuing to fight…? That was some Terminator shit right there. Only this time, the good guys were the ones that lost. That wasn’t exactly a surprise; it had been kind of obvious since Casey first arrived. Time travel was a last resort kind of option.
In the future, they all died.
April wished that changing the future would wipe the slate clean for Casey, too. For the rest of them, it was a case of Hooray! Disaster averted! and they could be relieved that none of this would ever happen. But it had, for one of them. She wondered how he was going to cope with that.
“...sorry.”
Annnd he was apologising to her again. April wrinkled her nose—gingerly, it was still healing, stupid Krang—and flicked him on the forehead, smiling grimly at his yelp. “Casey Jones, I’m fine. Is this why you didn’t want to meet my parents?”
Casey blinked at her owlishly in the dark, and then pulled back, looking guilty. “What? N-no, I did, I swear—”
“Lemme put it another way,” she said, taking pity on him. This kid still took everything so seriously. But, you know. Justified and all. “Is this why you were so nervous about it?” More ninja than the guys, hiding in the one gloomy patch of hallway and trying to be invisible. But he could probably have gotten away with not coming for any number of reasons, so the fact that he was willing to try…
“...a little,” he allowed after a moment. “I mean—I know it’s dumb. Your parents—your dad has never met me in this time. But I kept thinking he’d take one look at me and just kind of… know.” He paused, then ran hand through his hair sheepishly. “Not very rational, I guess.”
April smiled. “Nah. But it still makes sense. And you made it through dinner okay, right?”
“Yeah.” He smiled back. “Your parents are really nice. I can tell the guys like them, too.”
“Don’t remind me. They’re threatening to adopt.”
“...does it work that way in the past?”
She couldn’t help the snort of laughter at his genuine confusion. “Oh, man. We so have to give you a crash course in literally everything, don’t we.”
“Probably,” he said wryly. And paused again, before sighing. “Also, I think they finally worked out we’re not in the living room anymore.”
April blinked at him, and then turned toward the door—and yeah, it had gone suspiciously quiet out there. She put a finger to her lips, grinning at Casey, and reached down for her Journalism and Media Studies text book.
Then she threw it at the door hard and burst into laughter at the girlish shriek that came from the other side. Even Casey gave a soft huff of amusement as the door was flung open a moment later by Donnie, Mikey sprawled on the ground behind him.
“See,” Raph grumbled in the distance, “I told you guys—”
“April O’Neil,” Donnie demanded, “Are you throwing books at us?”
“It’s the outdated thing they gave us in class that you found the newer edition of.”
“In that case, carry on.”
“Don’t carry on,” Mikey wheezed, rolling up to his feet. “Books are scary.” And he dropped his voice to a stage whisper. “Also, Leo is asleeep.”
Oh, whoops. April glanced at the sofa, where Leo’s hood and red stripes could just be seen under the comforter, Raph sitting in front of him and polishing off the last of Leo’s food. She lowered her own voice to something more reasonable. “Then you shouldn’t have been eavesdropping.”
“Of course we were!” Donnie proclaimed, arms folded. Then winced. “--n’t. Weren’t eavesdropping. Don’t be ridiculous, we were merely concerned that you had run into emotional difficulties of some—” Mikey smacked him in the shoulder. “I mean. Eaten by rats. Because rats. Are a thing in these parts. Zombie rats. They could still be here.”
“Uh huh.” She folded her arms. “Casey?”
He honest to god saluted her with a perfectly straight face. “No rats in the apartment, Commander. Could be a liar or two, though.”
Raph snorted, choking on his mouthful of beef as Donnie gaped at them. Mikey planted his face on Donnie’s shell and gave a muffled giggle. “Someone tell Casey the house rules—”
“We have house rules now?” April wanted to know.
“Uhh, something something don’t be funny while people are eating?” Donnie suggested. “You nearly killed Raph.”
Raph pointed in their general direction but said nothing, still coughing.
“That’s not a house rule. That’s something you came up with to get Leo to shut up and eat.”
“In our defense, his puns are very painful,” Donnie noted. “Also, how long has he been Dumbonardo in your phone?”
“My—” She glanced down to see her phone in his hand, and April snatched it back. “Give me that.”
“I was updating it for you.”
“With what?”
“Answer the question and I’ll answer yours.”
She glared, but after poking at her phone to make sure he hadn’t put Yet Another Firewall on it, April gave a shrug. “Since the invasion.”
“Hmm. Some might say I am required to speak in my beloved brother’s defense, but I merely question why you didn’t do it earlier.”
Raph finally found his voice, still pointing. “Don’t use Raph as an excuse. Also Leo went to sleep, like, five minutes ago—you sure you wanna be roasting him like this?”
“It’s a night for roasts,” Mikey said sagely. “Speaking of, d’you think we can stick a fork in Dad and call him done yet?”
“I don’t know,” Splinter said from behind the couch. “Can you?”
They all yelped and jumped away from him—with the exception of Leo, who let out a small snore, and Casey, who just lifted a hand and waved. Splinter beamed at them and continued picking his teeth clean with a nail which, ew. April made a face. “When did you get in here?”
“A good ninja never reveals his secrets.”
“Oh, so you’re going to tell us everything—”
Splinter’s tail cracked into Donnie’s head, and April cackled, flopping into the armchair as he waved a finger. “The O’Neils will be in shortly! I came to warn you in advance so you can repair all the damage you’ve done.”
“Huh?” Raph’s brow furrowed. “What damage? If you’re talking about the gravy, we dealt with that—”
“There was no gravy,” Donnie said swiftly, and April immediately started scanning the cushions and the carpeting with dread. “It’s all in your imagination.”
“Who cares about gravy?” Splinter hissed, flailing his arms in dramatic outrage. “What about what you’ve done to the walls?”
They stared back at him in disbelief.
“Okay, first of all, that wasn’t us,” Donnie said, voice flat. “Second, I admire your faith that we can somehow put the walls back to rights in the moments we have before the O’Neils descend upon us with whatever imagined wrath you think we deserve—”
April raised a hand, sighing. “In light of Leo being asleep, let me be the one to tell you that was totally Draxum, and the walls were like that before you guys arrived.”
“Draxum, you say?” Splinter said gleefully. “I mean—oh no, your poor walls.”
“Hey, he did it saving April!” Mikey defended.
“Yeah, he’s off the hook for that one,” Raph said, ruffling Mikey’s mask tails. “You can blame him for a lot of things, but—”
“I’m sorry,” Draxum drawled, towering behind Raph suddenly. “What am I being blamed for now?”
They all yelped and scrambled in the opposite direction. Except for Casey, who waved again, and Leo, whose snoring took on a more stubborn sound, and April eyed him suspiciously. Draxum loomed over them all, dressed in a surprisingly nice kimono, its stylishness ruined somewhat by the traces of chocolate staining its sleeve, and he was holding a tray that was…
...gurgling. Huh.
Splinter recovered first. “Everything I can possibly get away with, and surprise ninja entrances are my thing! Get your own!”
Draxum raised an eyebrow. “Surprise ninja entrances? I walked through the door. Perhaps your supposed ninja family needs more training in observation.”
April glanced behind him to see that, yes, the door to the kitchen was open, and Carol was leaning against the frame watching them all. She caught April’s stare and grinned, offering her a wink.
And April relaxed. Whatever her parents had talked about with Splinter, it had turned out okay.
Draxum eyed them a moment longer, then gave a disdainful sniff and set the tray down on the coffee table. It was full of brown, bubbling and uneven sludge, and an attempt to slice it into squares had clearly been made before the pieces melted back together again. They surrounded it and eyed it dubiously.
“Brownies,” Draxum said proudly. “I grew them myself.”
Mikey peered at him. “Don’t you mean baked—”
“I said what I said.”
There was silence as they all stared down at what, honestly, looked a little like a horror story. Like a village buried under a sudden mud slide, maybe. The lumpiness did remind April a little of tiny drowning people, and the fact that it was still bubbling didn’t help.
It did smell delicious, though--
“Who would like to try one first?” Draxum asked. “Carol? As host—”
“Oh,” Carol said cheerfully. “As host, I’ll… find you some plates.” And she was gone with a speediness that April envied. She wondered if she could somehow vanish through the same doorway without being noticed.
“I’ll pass,” Casey said, raising a hand, and he looked sincerely apologetic. “I’m still meant to stick to a simple diet, and I think your brownies are too… rich?”
Nice save. April felt a little bad for Draxum as he looked around with confusion and frowned. “I promise you they taste just fine.”
“Did you follow my recipe?” Mikey asked weakly.
“I improved on your recipe—”
“I’ll go first,” Raph said, face dark and slamming a fist into his open palm. “I’ve eaten weirder.”
“Yeah, good luck with that.” Donnie was on his phone. “I am not eating anything that looks like a crime scene. Tampering with evidence is a no-no.”
Mikey peered at him. “That’s not what you said at the college labs—”
“You’re all babies.” Raph rolled up the sleeves of his jacket, wincing slightly as the holes at his elbows grew a little bigger. “I bet it’ll taste great and you should all give Barry the benefit of the doubt.”
“Thank you,” Draxum said with a sniff. “I tasted them myself and I am in perfectly good health. I don’t know why all of you are such cowards when it comes to yokai cooking.”
“Raph ain’t no coward.” Yet despite this, he hovered over the tray for a long time, fingers wiggling as if he wasn’t sure what to grab, and April watched the drop of sweat roll down his cheek. Everyone watched him in silence. Except for Donnie, who was humming. April thought it might be a dirge of some kind.
Another green hand reached out and stabbed a finger down into the tray, twirling a pile of warm goop around it, and they jumped. Leo stuck it into his mouth, eyes still half closed.
“Uh—”
“Sensei—”
“Nardo, don’t swallow that—”
“Oh, sweet pineapple on pizza,” Leo breathed, eyes flying open. “This is amazing. Who made this?”
There was dead silence. And then everyone pointed to Draxum. Leo blinked at him, wrinkled his snout, and snuggled back into his pile of comforters. “Oh, that’s right. Well, whatever, can’t win ‘em all. Can I have a plate?”
“Wait,” Donnie said, disbelieving. “You’re serious? You’re not just trying to trick us all into food poisoning?”
“You don’t wanna eat any, Dontron, it’s more for me.”
“Well, not that I doubt you...” Donnie squinted at the plate. “But brownies are meant to have a certain internal consistency. If you can twirl it around your finger I feel they should be classified as something more liquid—”
“Save me from picky eaters,” Draxum said, rolling his eyes. “If you wait a little longer I’m sure they’ll set.”
“They’re meant to set before you serve them, Barry—”
Mikey crossed his arms. “Hey, he tried! And therefore nobody should criticise him!”
“Oh, I think we can find plenty to criticise,” Splinter said, dabbing chocolate goop away from his mouth, and April gave a start and wondered when he’d managed that theft. “But I suppose in this case the brownies are exempt. I hate to say it, but they are delicious. In a strangely muddy kind of way.”
“Oh, nobody died?” Carol had reappeared, holding a stack of small plates. “I brought spoons as well, given their… unique texture. We can call it pudding instead of brownies, right?”
“But I made brownies,” Draxum said sulkily.
“Special recipe yokai brownies,” she said with a dry smile. “Clearly we poor humans don’t recognise quality when we see it.”
“Well, seeing as you brought it up—”
April stomped on his foot. Hard. Which probably hurt her more than it hurt him, given he had hooves and he merely gave her a blank look, but it did shut him up.
“Everyone stop arguing about dessert and eat it already,” Leo said, yawning. “Mrs O, dinner was delicious. I don’t know if I said that before, so…”
That prompted a general round of agreement, and she smiled at them, handing out the plates. “You’re very welcome. Maybe when you’re feeling better, we can do this again, huh?”
Splinter perked up. “You mean like a traditional Sunday dinner?”
“Not every Sunday,” August said, finally entering with a tray of glasses. “I’m not sure our poor apartment can take it. I heard something about gravy?”
“There is no gravy.”
“Oh, glad to hear it. Drinks, anyone?”
A chorus of hands shot up.
“I think there’s enough room for all of us,” Carol said, pointedly flopping down on the ground by April’s chair. “You guys haven’t picked a movie out yet. Anything in particular?”
“Do you have any Jupiter Jim?” Leo said, peering over his comforter.
“Who cares about Jupiter Jerkface.” Splinter huffed. “I happen to know they have the entire collection of Lou Jitsu’s hidden 80s gems—”
“We are not watching Lou Jitsu movies.” Draxum paused between serving up his pudding-slash-brownies onto plates to give him a disdainful look. “We already have to look at you enough today.”
“You only just arrived with faulty brownies, you don’t get a say—”
“My delicious brownies. Even the annoying one thinks so.”
“Don’t drag me into this, I’m horribly injured.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Anyway,” Mikey said determinedly, stuffing Leo’s mouth full of chocolate before he could retort, “That’s one vote for Jupiter Jer—Jim and like minus five for Lou Jitsu—”
“How dare you!” Splinter gasped. “The lack of respect!”
“Lou Jitsu’s ‘hidden 80s gems’ are uncut and not for children,” Carol said firmly. “Don’t scar them.”
“What do you mean—” Donnie paused, and then went a fascinating shade of grey as April hid her face. “Oh. Never mind.”
“I haven’t seen much of the Jupiter Jim franchise, actually,” August said thoughtfully. “Are they any good?”
“Actually,” Casey said, raising a hand with a hesitant smile, “I haven’t seen any. For, uh… obvious reasons..?”
There was silence as everyone stared at the two of them.
Then Leo reached out and smacked Donnie in the arm, making garbled sounds through his mouthful of chocolate sludge, and Donnie sighed. “Translating for my dum-dum brother here, I believe he wants me to say ‘Well, now we have to watch them. From the beginning.’”
“We don’t own any of them, though—”
“That is not a problem, believe me.” Donnie produced his tablet from out of thin air. “April? May I borrow your laptop?”
“You got it, Dee.” She wriggled out of the chair and scrambled past them to her room, cackling as Splinter stopped grumbling and snatched up a plate, perching on the far arm of Leo’s sofa. By the time she returned, dad had pulled in a chair from the kitchen to sit on and the rest were mostly lounging on the floor with what spare cushions they had, and Donnie was perched in an unlikely sprawl across the back of the sofa, setting up the connections they’d need.
“Okay!” Donnie straightened up as she handed him her laptop. “Given there are more than eighty films in the franchise we will clearly start with just the one, so let’s go for one of the more iconic for new viewers and take bets on how long it takes Nardo to fall asleep again—”
“Hey,” Leo protested sleepily. “Rude. I wanna watch people watching JJ.”
“Again, skill issue. I suppose we can ask April to throw more text books—”
“I know who I’m gonna throw ‘em at if I do.”
“—but books are sacred and should not be treated that way. I give him five minutes.”
“Eight,” Carol said mildly.
“Mom!”
“Oh no, Raph is not losin’ another Leo bet. I give him three minutes, look at him, he’s already yawnin’—”
“You’re all jerks.”
“Shush, Leo, or I’ll rig the bet in my favour. You will not like my methods.”
“Dad, Donnie’s threatening me again.”
“Be quiet and go to sleep! Preferably after four minutes.”
“You’re all gonna lose,” Mikey sing-songed. “Leo loves these movies. I’ll give him a full half hour.”
“Thank you, Miguel, but also you’re still a jerk.”
“I love you too.”
“Shh, shh-- the movie’s starting.”
“Shh.”
“Ssh!”
April’s phone buzzed as her dad got the lights, and she blinked down at it.
Donnie: >> I updated your panic button. For all your potential home invasion needs. If we can’t answer, it’ll summon a drone. No more zombies. Share it with parents?
Oh… right. The update. April smiled, and offered him a thumbs up in the dark as the movie started. She’d have to break the news to her parents that they were adopted after all.
Her chair hadn’t been stolen, which was nice of them. She settled back into it, and Carol glanced up at her with a small smile.
“Okay?” April whispered.
“More than,” Carol whispered back.
And...okay. Good. Great. Something in her settled into pure warmth and she curled her knees up to her chest, glancing at her dad. He smiled and gave her a quick nod. Two for two.
It was gonna be more than okay. From here, it was gonna be amazing.
#rottmnt#rottmnt fic#nekotsuki#no rest for the weary#(adjacent)#this probably has terrible pacing THEY WOULD NOT SHUT UP#super long post
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Some 1996 (ITV) Mr Knightley (Mark Strong) propaganda, because my poor man is going to need it, whoever it is that he goes against.
People have objections about this version of the character. I understand them. I'm gonna try to add some perspective to them, and then go for actual pros that I think should be considered!
First, the two lines of horrors about baby Emma. My only defense, I plead at the jury, is... should be blame character and actor for screenplay writer Andrew Davies' crimes?
Second, this Mr Knightley is too angry/forceful. Well, Mark Strong agrees with you! in The Making of Jane Austen's Emma, he says that "At this point I worried that, because I was always having a go at Emma, the audience might not see the love behind it". He also thinks that a lot of that emotionality is driven by Knightley starting to feel things he'd never felt before, and not knowing how to deal with them: "He’s probably going home in the evening and thinking, 'Why on Earth did I do that? What is happening?’"
From there to the beloved scene of 2020 Mr Knightley arriving home and throwing himself on the floor, there isn't a step, even. In that way, this version of Knightley was very influential for both adaptations that came after; 2009 takes from it the emphasis on the aspect of Knightley being an engaged administrator of his estate, rather blunt at times, but always kind to those that depend on him.
Besides all this, you must acknowledge his exasperated delivery of the "His aunt is in the way. His aunt dies!!!" speech is hilarious :P
On with the pros!
This Knightley takes an interest on the servants' lives, knows them by name and always greets them when he arrives at Hartfield.
The way he says "excuse me, sir" to Mr Elton after he snubbed Harriet is glorious:
He has some moments of subtle acting that I love, like this exchange of glances with Emma about Mrs Elton:
(in general I feel he has great chemistry with Emma whenever they are having A MomentTM, but YMMV). He has this way of dissolving a stern face into a lovely smile when he sees her:
The way his voice breaks when he finishes delivering the "badly done" speech after Box Hill
His reactions DURING the Box Hill scene:
His smile at Miss Bates' self deprecating joke!
His disappointment at Emma's hurtful comment!
His concern for Miss Bates!
He has merits! And lovely green eyes.
Sorry but I adore you and your true dedication to the cause - I have added this to the Mark Strong Mr Knightley Propaganda under his poll but will post the full ask here too!
Mr Knightley (1996) Vs Mr Bingley (2005)
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