#but man i dunno how to actually execute the drawings

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 5.7.2024

Remember last week, when I said I was going to try to finish one of my requests per week. Ha, ha, that was lies!

It's actually not as bad as it sounds--what happened was, I had picked out the next one I wanted to do, and in my mind, it was a nice little 2 scene vignette. But then, as I was working on it, it felt more like a whole-ass fanfic, and I decided to just lean into that. It's not going to be too long-- right now, it's outlined as 4 scenes, might go as long as six, if I decide I need a set change. It's 2800 words at the moment, which is 1 and a half of those two original scenes. I also did a bunch of planning. Writing it out has been a little slow, but not bad-slow. I've had to end up thinking about a bunch of things that I don't usually think about, but, like, that's part of the fun of it, right?

I am a little nervous posting a whole fanfic about characters who are not my blorbos. I mean, I love Renji and Rukia a whole lot and so my portrayal of them is going to be generally flattering and also I have a good sense of the audience because I am the audience. Do people want a fanfic about Kensei being Incredibly Divorced? We'll find out. (Who is he even divorced from? It's not Tousen. He honestly didn't think about Tousen that much, which is one of the things that's bothering him now. Possibly Soul Society in its entirety, except that he is somehow now back here. I dunno, he just has the energy of a guy who declares he's going to build an entire set of living room furniture to replace the ones he mysteriously doesn't have anymore.) Anyway, it's the same feeling I had the time I wrote an IkkaYumi fic, which then went on to be one of my most popular fics. That doesn't actually make me feel better, because if I think about that, it will just skew my expectations. I usually don't have to worry about this, because I throw stuff like this into my anthology stories, and the stats on those are meaningless. It doesn't matter! Only one person needs to like this, and that's the person who requested it!! (well. and me. I am having a good time.)

In art news, I completed two Hands tutorials that were going around Artist Tumblr last week. I forgot how hard it was to find tutorials that I can actually stand--I really struggled my way through, but in the end I drew some very good hands! Now, did this affect my brain in a way that it will affect my hand-drawing in a positive way going forward? Or was I just able to successfully follow along with the man on the screen. It remains to be seen. I need to do some drawing this week. I worry that I don't actually like drawing, actually, because it's always such an ordeal to make myself do it, but I'm sure it's just the fact that my executive function has been increasingly crumbling into dust over the last few years.

[boxfullaturtles]

1,10,11,14,16,37,39,42,43,60,65,75

smoly hokes dude okay,,

1. Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

I think I actually prefer one-shots. Shorter, faster, telling a tiny story rather than a lengthy one. I actually struggle with multi-chapter and it's been years since I finished writing one. Hoping to change that with Adagio...

10. Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

They were eyes that never blinked, never faltered, and captured every moment.

Kinda cheated and dropped the "s" so I would have something to actually share lol. Not telling you which WIP this is from either >:3

[the rest under the cut because this got so long,,,]

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

Uh uh uh b-but I don't I mean I have a lot of favorites I don't have like a tier list this is a lot of pressure um,,

Okay for strictly TMNT fics, I guess I really love Little Scraps of Wisdom by clandestineClairvoyant because it's just. The softest damn thing and I love the characterization of the turtles. Dawning of the Hour by that brilliant bastard Faiakishi has been killing me slowly and I adore every agonizing second of it. And The Lemonade Leak by TurtleSoupSwimmer keeps yanking the rug out from under me just when I think I've gotten shit figured out. Also shout-outs to basically everything Dandy writes but in particular Tapping Out because I relate to that fic so hard and it makes me feel Seen, Violet Neon Nitro by TractorTeeth because fuck me does it scratch that Mad Max itch in my brain box and I LOVE LOVE LOVE the descriptions in it, and The Last Ronin Discord Shenanigans for giving Ronin a happy ending and some very interesting and well written character interactions.

But if we're talking not just TMNT? Then Poor Wayfaring Stranger by lithos_saeculum is one of my number one fics; a FFXV fic and I don't mind if it never gets finished because it's already 60 incredibly well written and amazing chapters that I have reread multiple times. The Good Mourning / Ghost!Jake AU by corruwuption is a Micoverse fic gut punch that I adore and it's written so well and just!! Ahhhgg! Ghost Jake wrecks me every time. And Audience: 822,000 and Homeland Security by WerewolvesAreReal is just. It's my favorite Leverage fic and it's so in character and silly and I absolutely love well-executed outsider perspective fics.

14. how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

As an extremely emotional person who cries about anything and everything, yes and yes. I definitely put myself in the character's shoes. Although this sometimes has a habit of backfiring as I start writing myself into of the character and then have to go back and edit everything. Oops. But yeah I also draw from personal experience where I can. Different people experience different emotions different ways, everyone reacts differently. But having gone through Some Shit helps me understand certain things better.

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

Uuuhhh something like...eleven? Or twelve fic ideas? I think? Haha can't stop, won't stop lmao heLP

Man I dunno which ones I haven't shared anything about yet...I guess my extremely self-indulgent, almost everybody lives, future au crossover thing that would be a multi-chaptered nightmare of a beast and will likely never be written. I should just mess with that for funsies sometime.

Anyway, here's a sketch thing I never finished based on it. Like I said. Very self-indulgent.

37. How do you choose where to end a chapter?

Eh, vibes. Usually when I'm writing and I feel like I'm near the end of a chapter, I just get a feeling. Like "aw yeah, this is the moment". Once in a great while there is a pre-planned cut off point, a scene I know I want to end a chapter on, but that's an infrequent thing.

39. Share a snippet from a WIP.

You really just want all my secrets, huh?

42. What's the last fic you red? Do you recommend it?

Oh man, looking at my history and everything I've read recently has just been updates from fics I already subscribe to. I haven't had a lot of time to try and read something new... Looks like the last thing new thing I read was a one-shot of 2003 Leo called Oh Shoot by halogalopaghost. And yes, I do recommend it! A very good study in 03 Leo being a fucking dumbass. :)

43. Do you take a sadistic joy in whumping your characters, or are you more the "If you hurt them I would kill everyone and then myself" kind of person?

Do you even know me!? I delight in whump and suffering! I have a Bad Things Bingo Card for a reason! My turtlesona is Goretello! Mad scientists, unethical experimentation, body horror, and non-consensual body modifications are my bread and butter! I am an unashamed edgelord gorehound horror lover!

60. Have you had a writer you admire comment on your fic? What was that like?

It was like: "ajkdhsfjald omfg this really cool, very talented, very awesome person liked what i wrote omg??" because I am a child. For real though, it's always really flattering to see someone whose talent you admire respond to something you've created! It feels good and it makes you like your thing just a little bit more, I feel.

65. Tell us about what you're most looking forward to writing - in your current project, or a future project.

There's stuff in "Adagio in Green" that I am really looking forward to! Things ramp up rather quickly and I'm very excited to get to the stuff I have planned! Not gonna lie, it gets a little bit...how do I put this...well, I think I've mentioned already that I plan on giving these Rise boys the Farmhouse Arc they were robbed of in the show. That's not the only thing the show's cancellation robbed them of and I'm wedging so much of that shit into Adagio it's almost stupid.

Okay last one...

75. What scene in [Fanfic Name] took you longest to write? What was difficult about it?

Uh well, buddy, you didn't provide me a fic sooooooo guess we're going with "Adagio in Green".

It wasn't just a scene but the entirety of Chapter 6, the chapter that's going up next week, gave me A LOT of trouble. I deviated from my outline (and I'm still deviating from it because of chapter six) and it threw everything out of whack. I couldn't figure out how to get things going. It either felt too rushed or too stagnated.

I feel better about it now that it's actually finished, but I'm still nervous about it.

Actually, I get nervous about every update I post,,,

[transdimensional-void]

Who The Heck is Morgause?

i often wonder whether the “merlin (bbc)” writers ever actually had a fully fleshed-out back story for what happened 20 years ago or if they were just making it up as they went along.

one particular thing that really always confused me is WHO THE HECK IS MORGAUSE??? if we accept at face value her claim to be morgana’s half-sister, that raises so many more questions than it answers. 

we know morgana’s biological father was uther, but she grew up believing her father was gorlois. that implies that morgana’s mother was gorlois’s wife--otherwise, how would she end up believing he was her father? if morgause is morgana’s half-sister, the most logical assumption would be that she is the actual daughter of gorlois and his wife, i.e. that she and morgana share a mother but have different (biological) fathers.

except, if that’s the case then how does morgana not know who she is? morgana hasn’t been uther’s ward her entire life. she seems to have memories of her father, so she surely would have known if she had a sister?? and no one else in camelot seems to know who she is either, so it’s not likely she’s a high-ranking nobleman’s legitimate daughter.

so, it seems like there’s no way morgause could be the actual daughter of gorlois and his wife. so...is she gorlois’s bastard daughter? but in that case, she wouldn’t share either parent with morgana. which only leaves the option that she is the daughter of gorlois’s wife...but not gorlois himself. which means gorlois’s wife got pregnant with YET ANOTHER MAN who wasn’t her husband. and if morgause wasn’t raised as gorlois’s daughter, then either morgause was a secret love child his wife managed to hide from him somehow (from before they were married maybe?) or he was fully aware his wife had given birth to someone else’s kid and didn’t divorce said wife but simply shipped the kid off somewhere else. which would heavily imply that gorlois never knew morgana wasn’t his...which also makes you wonder how uther can be so sure that morgana IS his daughter...

the most plausible possibilities for morgause and morgana actually being biological half-sisters are:

1. gorlois took in uther’s bastard daughter and knowingly raised her as his own legitimate daughter without her being either his or his wife’s child (aka, gorlois was uther’s bro-est of bros). maybe in this scenario gorlois and his wife couldn’t have kids, so he was glad to have an heir however he could get one. thus, morgause is the daughter of morgana’s birth mother...whoever that was.

OR

2. gorlois’s wife REALLY got around for a medieval noblewoman, and maybe she didn’t die of natural causes but uhhhh was executed for adultery or something because otherwise???? her husband was just reaaaaaal cool about her infidelity? i guess? 

OR

3. morgause actually is gorlois and his wife’s daughter, but they hid her existence from the world for some reason. maybe they were super into the old religion and sent her off to the isle of the blessed to be raised as a priestess before morgana was born and then, like, disowned her when uther turned against magic???

i dunno, man. all of these possibilities seem to be a bit of a stretch, but what other conclusions can we draw?

[tacticalhimbo]

WIP WEDNESDAY

i missed this last week, but i saw the tag and actually have a wip on hand so! i was tagged by the talented @detectivelokis to share a bit of my current wip. and it's thursday still so... it's close enough! dunno who to tag so if you wanna do this, go right on ahead!

started a drabble involving toni and walker, and wanted to expand on one of the canon flashbacks in the game. so! that's what this is. tw/cw for descriptions of violence/death below the cut.

The shot rang out before the solider could get another word in, and the silence that followed was deafening.

It was only broken by the ragged breaths the apparent target had let slip past her lips as grey eyes darted to her companion. She watched his armed hand fall to his side, smoke still hot as it floated off the barrel of his revolver. She watched the back of his head remain steadfast, knowing his gaze was focused on the pool of crimson that sept into the floorboards by his feet. Her gut twisted.

"Walker, what… the hell did you do? He was done!"

"Well, now he's done." Walker's voice was flat. Far from reassuring.

Antonia stood straighter as he finally peeled his gaze from the dead soldier on the ground, turning his body toward her as an unfamiliar expression crossed his rugged features. She studied it, watching the way his lips threatened to curl upward. Watching how a deep scowl settled in those dark eyes of his. He looked not like a man, but an animal. A wolf, snarling over its claim and slow to ease as a realization settled into the air. He believed had done his job. No more, no less.

"Besides," he began, stalking toward the doorway and briefly pausing before his companion "If I didn't kill that worthless pog, the whole village might have come after us."

An airy scoff left Antonia as he stepped past her, shoulders brushing as she lingered in her place. Without him there, she could see it all much more clearly. See how the younger man stared at the wall to his side, eyes wide and lifeless. A single wound was all that remained, drawing her gaze to his features. Forever horrified by what was to come. He would know no peace, not even in the afterlife (if there even was one). Her mouth struggled to call out, body turning and arm raising in an attempt to grab at the other's uniform. Yet she was unsuccessful, as Walker had already breached the doorframe and found his way out of the room.

"Hey—This isn't right, Walker!" Antonia shook her head and turned on her heel, stomping toward the door, only to stop and spare one last look to their fallen comrade. Her mind raced, breaths growing heavy as she tried to wrap herself around what to do.

Did she radio it in to base? Did she try to move him? Try to close his eyes and stop that damned stare? How would they explain this away? Could they even? Fuck, what was the court going to think of this? She's an accessory. She could have stopped it.

She could have stopped it.

Walker waited by the entrance to the building, weapon holstered and arms tucked over his chest. Much as he wanted, there was no sense in leaving her behind. They needed to get back to base together, or too many flags would raise. Explaining one disappearance was hard enough; trying to explain two, only for one member to show up screeching and hollering was in a whole other league. So when Antonia came stomping out, fire in her eyes, he was glad to see she was still coming along for the ride.

"You ready?—"

"Don't. Fuck, Walker, what the hell were you thinking? And don't give me some short answer. You know the kind of shit you've just put us in? Killing a senator's son? Shooting him execution style? How the hell do you explain that?"

[oakskull]

Guess who finished this illustration set,,

MEEEEEEE!!!

It's Cogchamp fnf sprites!!! I would have made a mod but unfortunately I don't have the right software to do so

Featuring such characters as

Tutorial Fox

5up.xtml

Brother Dearest

Tub and Crumb

Prime Bell

Um sir.

and last but not least, Sammy wants murder

These are weeks 1-4, and week 5 will be in a separate post bc of image limit(derogatory) and I worked really hard on this!! (more thoughts and stuff under the cut, I got kind of rambly haha)

It was super fun to draw in this style and I feel like I learned a lot about shading and shapes (shoes especially) by trying to recreate the style of a professional artist. I think I'll do more exercises like this in the future, just to keep learning!! Also obligatory reminder that these drawings are referenced HEAVILY from the original game sprites. I was trying to draw the cog champers(and dream) like they would be a mod for the game, so the poses and style are extremely similar if not the same. If I were to redo these illustrations I might put more personality and originality into the poses, but I didn't actually study the style at all before creating the first illustration (fundy, the one I posted here is actually a redraw to make him higher quality, the original was too small)

So yeah, over all, this was super fun and I'd definitely do it again. Maybe I'll redraw some of these in the future to be more creative, you can tell which ones I drew later on bc of the variety in poses and expressions, I was a lot more comfortable with the style (tho I did keep my own eyes and mouth style bc expressions are something thats really important to my style and I didn't want to feel like I was just like,, tracing) Sorry for rambling so long, I'll put this under a cut for all the people who just want to see pretty art.

On a more art related note, you may have noticed that Dream is Pico, you may be thinking "but dream isn't on Cogchamp" and you're Right. I didn't know what else to do okay? He's fundy's Ex so it kind of fits??? I dunno man, I gave him a more steam punk mask but kept the majority of his design similar to my normal dream design, so as to keep the Dream vibe. Yknow where he's always just a green blob? It kinda slaps tbh, branding is important.

Also regarding Prime Bell, again, I didn't know what else to do, I was thinking of doing something with the egg, but that's not on cogchamp (thank goodness) so I needed something else. I decided that the only like, tangentially related thing I could do was make an Evil prime bell, based on how Sam steals it idk maybe in this world its always the demon thing and is kinda like the ring from lord of the rings, where once you have it you can't give it up. In any case designing Prime Bell took a while (plus some help from Yipcord and Chaos Crew thx guys ❤ and specifically @valpurgatory who is what inspired me to personify the Prime Bell in the first place with their turn everything into a women philosophy (I @ed him so you can check out his blog he slaps. She's like the go to for saving women from Wilbur Soot's dirty mits)) but drawing it was surprisingly quick, mostly due to the fact that I figured out how to easily recreate the texture on the Lemon Monster's body. I did no shading bc that's what the Lemon monster looks like, and it kind of hurt bc it just looks kind of unfinished to me,,, I had some trouble with the week 5 design for Prime Bell bc I didn't want to abandon my first idea. I probably should have and would have gotten a better result, but I can't be bothered tbh. This is the 3rd day I'm working on this project (these were surprisingly quick the churn out, probably bc I was having a blast) and I simply do not want to alter anything. My idea was good but the execution didn't pan out. What am I saying the week 5 prime bell design isn't even on this post sjjdjsks

Anyway, go check out fnf(Friday Night Funkin) it's a rhythm game, it's free and the OST Slaps. I'd also highly recommend listening to the Whitty mod songs and the Neo mod songs,,,, good good music.

[snellyfish]

May I ask..... what is in your post game V3? I dunno how to ask this without sounding weird.

HM!!!!!!!!! GOOD QUESTION;;

I mostly only have braincells for Kiyo and Angie so not a lot of my thoughts are straying from that unfortunately LMAO, I was able to branch off a bit answering this though so thank you for indirectly helping me develop more!!

But I like to think it's the same scenario as the second game where it was all just a simulation. I know what I fantasize about is a VR AU and that "postgame" tends to refer to the survivors but literally none of my favorites survived so reality can be whatever I want: postgame Shinnaga is so canon it's unreal!! I'm sure there's probably a VR fic for them somewhere out there in the world, I wouldn't know because I suck at reading fhdjfk, but I would love to write my own someday HEH

-------------------------

They'd all wake up one by one as they die and end up all in the same facility where they're taken care of by the Danganronpa team, unable to leave until they’re well again due to the contracts they signed prior to playing-- Meaning Angie wakes up, Tenko wakes up a few hours later, Kiyo another few hours later, etc. Angie jumps back pretty quick from things so she'd be already VERY excited to see Kiyo*  after watching the trial, mostly because Angie like immediately caught onto what his sister really was to him (HINT: CONTROLLING AND AWFUL) and yelling at her screen saying "GOD WILL SMITE YOU ALL FOR PICKING ON THE WEAK" at everyone just calling him some incestuous freak during the trial. Angie does have genuinely incredible intuition (thanks god!) so she looks past the fact he murdered her Scarily Fast. Everyone would definitely mistrust and hate Angie even more as she tries to preach to them afterwards about Kiyo and how they need to forgive him since he’s a victim and God (most important opinion) already forgave him, but no one ever listened to her anyway especially postgame so it’s all in vain 😔

*whom might take a bit to wake up and fully acclimate again because...idk this man was boiled alive that's kinda Fucked I think all the executed would take longer to wake up because they went through more lengthy + traumatic deaths I guess? This just means even more time for Angie to sit on her thoughts about what happened to her+Kiyo yuh yuh

Everyone becomes a mix of their pregame selves and the identities they were given, they'd end up being mediocre/average (sometimes bad) at what their handpicked talent was but a lot of them still keep up doing it until they DO become good again. A very small amount of them try to replicate their killing game outfits and kinda live off the high of being what they once were and accomplished in their fake memories, like Miu and Himiko. (this also makes me think about Irumeno a bit more 👀) Pretty much every single one of them in pregame saw themselves as nothing, being disposable enough to be in a killing game (even if it turns out to be virtual), so the new identities would overpower the mix for the most part since they’re the more intensified and dramaticized personality--IF THAT MAKES ANY SENSE LOL.

--Angie absolutely never stopped her art and has a less intense view on Religion, since garnering more experiences in life she’s just be less intense in general I'd think; more open with her emotions in that she'd actually cry, but still very manic and bubbly and optimistic nonetheless. After getting help (mostly from Kiyo who deals with the same thing), Angie is able to differentiate her thoughts and desires from “God”’s thoughts and desires, YEA she still has a funky little friend in her head. She's not AS pushy especially not with her equally traumatized fellow killing game participants but she still absolutely gets her moments of intensity and assertiveness now and then if she thinks something God is telling her is absolute truth and for the betterment of everyone: she is still Angie afterall, truly believing everyone would be much happier with her God in their lives but having enough self-restraint to know everyone will just push her away further if she tries to help them in that regard. She has her moments of desperation but most everyone’s too far gone from her already.

--Korekiyo is such a complicated one--I do like to think of pregame Kiyo as transfem/nonbinary and that would partially stick into his postgame identity in some way...killing game Kiyo was Just A Dude but after becoming the mix of the two identities he'd be VERY confused, especially with the influence of his (simulated) sister's influence. (genderfluid time? :)) He'd have varying degrees of when his...sister...alter...thing...comes out, or is present in his head in any regard, she'd be gone or slowly disappearing from his mind for months at a time and he'd initially be extremely unstable about it because he feels extremely isolated and lost when he can’t talk to her, but he's got Angie by his side so he becomes significantly less stressed about it over time, learning to cope with it. Eventually he finds himself no longer dependent on sister and...has to learn a SECOND time to not be unhealthily dependent; on Angie this time. (funky little idea I’ve been wanting to draw/write about sometime...hnnrngm) They’re both miracle workers when it comes to each other’s mental health it’s kinda insane. Of course, after realizing that Sister never really existed, he harbors near-immediate guilt for having murdered Angie and Tenko once he’s alone with his thoughts, not being puppeteered by sister, realizing everything he ever did he did for HER and realizing how fucked it all was pretty quickly--he does crave interacting with his victims in a positive and healing light but he’s sort of traumatized by it all to the point he is TERRIFIED when they’re around him at first.

--Tenko ends up EVEN MORE protective and grudgeful after she wakes up, trying to shield everyone and everything from most of the blackened, absolutely makes Kiyo manage to feel like even worse shit when he's got 1 extremely supportive and loving woman he killed and 1 extremely spiteful woman he killed who might legitimately murder him in return if he’s not careful. Tenko never makes amends with Angie and becomes close with Himiko (who's close with Gonta despite Tenko's wishes (she hates him for killing Miu, local woman)), managing to keep Himiko far far away from Angie, not only for "stealing" Himiko in the Student Council but also for the fact Angie's glued to Kiyo's side--making her the second least trustworthy person to Tenko..

--Himiko is very traumatized after the game due to surviving all the way til the end, likely making her (along with Shuichi+Maki) very disillusioned and lost--unable to decipher anything from fiction or reality--it takes a long time for Himiko to really “accept” anything; tried to cling to both Tenko and Angie but ends up just stuck on Tenko, mourning the loss of her friendship with Angie while doing so. Himiko would probably be shoved away from Gonta at first as well, but Tenko felt a lot more confident in Gonta so after a long while of her aggressively trying to teach him manners and keeping an emotional deathgrip on him whenever he wants to interact with Himiko, they’d end up close friends again. Still thinking about Irumeno-- Also with the whole ~~Survivor Delusions~~ thing, I think that helps play into Himiko’s attachment and insistence to keep up her old magician identity, because she has a very hard time trying to tell what’s real n fake ykno, and it takes her a while to realize she doesn’t have her talent anymore; absolutely ending in tearful breakdowns and unending determination to find herself again by forcibly trying to improve and push herself to her limits.

For the most part Kiyo and Angie are outcasted from everyone else, a lot of that being due to Tenko's preaching but...also everyone just doesn't understand what actually happened to Kiyo and they are all deathly worried about Angie, but not enough to get themselves involved; they're scared of Angie too, afterall, not as much as they're scared of Kiyo but ykno-- They think her naivety and determination to “fix him” is going to get her murdered again, every day they’re just counting down the minutes until it happens again. (spoiler alert: it doesn’t)

I could ABSOLUTELY go off more but I really have to end this at some point so fhdsjkfds--

TLDR;; Angie (and God alter) forgive Kiyo almost immediately. Sister alter likes to disappear sometimes making Kiyo sad and unfortunately dependent on Angie. Both Kiyo + Angie help each other heal and recover from their issues. Tenko hates both Kiyo + Angie with a passion and protectively forbids Himiko from seeing either of them. Himiko is close friends with Tenko and Gonta and Maybe More with Miu.

[wilburs-soot]

ayo here besties have my take on Derivikat’s Revived bc as much as it’s a banger the c!wilbur analyst in me is just Losing it over the character interpretation

(please note, nothing against the song or the artists, again I think the song slaps and the art is incredible!! there’s just some stuff that doesn’t sit right with me and I wanted to put my ramble out there!! Also, this is all just opinion!! Please feel free to disagree with me, I think the different interpretations of c!wilbur are really fascinating!!)

————

in my opinion, Revived reads as an outside characterization of Wilbur from just moments after he was revived. Which is fine, it just means that it loses a lot of the nuance that his character has in favor of going “oh no he’s back he’s got big plans oh fuck” which is valid, but feels very far removed from how his character *actually* existed during the revival stream. The song just doesn’t feel like it has c! Wilbur’s voice as a character in it.

I really do think the art in revived is very good! However, it leans into the whole “red eyes, evil plans, bad guy” lens on wilbur which I am just Very Much Not A Fan Of because when this portrayal of his character was most popular, he was in the middle of a self destructive mental spiral. (See the “are we the bad guys” stream.) The whole concept of drawing him with glowing red eyes to represent his villainy and (in the case of the pogtopia arc) making him encroach upon Tommy’s personal space to prove a point/“manipulate” him just feels like such a surface level take on the character for me, and while again this is valid, it’s frustrating bc all these big creators keep making content where they paint him like this and due to their popularity he becomes widely villianized in artwork/people’s interpretations of him. In my opinion the revival stream read as him being excited to be alive again and free from his own personal hell, and to have it be an “I’m back, this has been my plan all along, I’m here to fuck shit up and take everything back” just feels Icky to me.

At this point I feel that though his apologies to people weren’t well executed he did genuinely mean them and while again, this song was made before more recent lore streams and has a right to interpret that as him being up to no good or whatever like,,, the man was a Mess that entire stream! He couldn’t even make a point without contradicting himself, of course his apologies are gonna feel weird!

My final point is about limbo and the way the ycgma pallete is used in the song because as much as I love when it’s used it just feels like an weird interpretation of limbo/the album itself to me. the album is so deeply rooted in Wilbur’s mental health and does a great job at expressing the vulnerabilities it needs to, but to take c!wilbur, who clearly is going through a lot of the stuff referenced in the album, and use it so it’s almost like, weaponised?? (Not exactly the word I’m looking for but you know, ycgma feels a lot angrier and like a tool towards a goal in this, at least to me) I dunno it just rubs me the wrong way.

Tldr my take on the revival is essentially “man is stuck in the physical representation of his mental illness and is happy when he’s finally freed bc thirteen and a half years of solitary confinement is Literally Torture holy shit” and the fact that it’s interpreted on a very large scale as “man has used his time dead to his advantage. He’s back, he’s manipulative as ever, he���s evil, and you’d better watch out” just stresses me out because again, it’s such a surface level characterization and he just has so much more depth to him.

Again these are all just my opinions, please feel free to disagree!! I think it’s really interesting how other people view him and other viewpoints are absolutely valid!! That’s the beauty of being able to watch this story from different perspectives, it leaves a lot up to interpretation :)))

[aurata-rin]

Fate/Grand Order Gudaguda 2021 (Ryouma Close Call) - Chapter 9 summary

This was a full chapter of story and no battles so there is a lot to go over, but man. At this point I’ll be grailing all the Gudaguda characters I have. I am very confused about the circumstances of the Singularity and this new Sakamoto but hopefully... hopefully the last chapters will explain.

Arrow 1

Back in Chaldea HQ, Nobunaga (still with a sign and drawing for a head) is curious about the Oumiya incident. Okita asks her to not suddenly show up with that face. Mashu explains it's the incident in which Sakamoto was attacked and assassinated. Even now it's unknown exactly who was behind it. The Kyoto Mimawarigumi, the Satsuma domain, the Choshu domain, and even the Shinsengumi were suspects in the case.

Okita: "Well, he seems like he had a lot of enemies." Nobbu: "Wait, you're the Shinsengumi. What were you doing." Hijikata: "Dunno a thing about that. Hey, Saitou, know anything?" Saitou: "No, no, there were talks that it looked like our Harada and I did it, but we wasn't around there back then in the first place." Nobbu: "Ah well, seems like there are a lot of theories. Right, so what about it?" Da Vinci: "That Oumiya incident on the 10th of December in year 1867 of the Western calendar, the day that Sakamoto Ryouma died, appears to be the origin of this Singularity." Okita: "But then, what's the relation to us being unable to enter this Singularity?" Da Vinci: "Seems like in this Singularity, only those who have died before this day are able to enter. We still don't understand the reason for this." Okita: "So then I can't enter it, huh. Neither can Hijikata, and Saito went on long after that." Saitou: "I mean, yeah, but can you not say it like that?"

Da Vinci suspects it might be possible to force a rayshift if they can confirm the coordinates, but it's also dangerous if those coordinates turn out to be off. Still, if they look into it a bit further, they might be able to send some reinforcements to Master. Then, Da Vinci asks what's up with Nobunaga's face.

Nobunaga: "'What's up', huh. I told you my head is--" Okita: "Geh?! Nobbu's head is on fire, like a candle!"

And it is. Nobunaga has no idea what's going on, but she hits Nobukatsu -- who clarifies that he actually didn't do anything, yet got hit anyway. He's thankful for that. Okita believes it's a sign things aren't going well in the Singularity. They're ready to go help at any moment; even Okita Alter, who's reminded she's unable to enter. At that moment, Himiko and Nagao enter -- they've returned from chasing some giant clam and fighting a giant octopus. Which they ate afterwards. They wonder what's got everyone gathered in the room.

In Saitama, the group's returned to the detective office. Nagayoshi and Chacha have been filled in on what's happened while they were distracting the guards. They're asking why Takechi got brought back with them. Nagayoshi wants to execute him for revenge, and Takechi seems defeated enough to go along with it. But before that, they'd like to ask him some questions. It's about Sakamoto, but even Takechi doesn't seem to know what he really is. Chaldea's Ryouma speaks up.

Ryoma: "That's Sakamoto Ryouma. Me." Nagayoshi: "Huh? I don't get it." Ryouma: "He's probably a me who did not form a contract as a Servant of the Counter Force. That day, just as I was dying, I made a contract with the World. So that I could save someone even after death. That's why originally, I couldn't be summoned as a regular Servant. If that other me was summoned in the previous Grail War, then it was from a world in which I was recorded as a Heroic Spirit in the Throne of Heroes, not one where I became a Guardian. In other words, the me who should have died at Oumiya survived because of this Singularity."

Takechi confirms that while the two might be the same person, they're not entirely identical; this Ryouma is not like the Sakamoto in this Singularity. He's not the type who'd calmly cut down a woman. Ryouma doesn't know how he could have ended up like that other version of himself. Maybe that's who he really is. Okuni disagrees; they are the same person, but what lies within them is different. She caught a glimpse of it when Shinbei was possessed by the dark energies. It's the thing she's been searching for, the old, unruly kami; Ama-no-Sakagami.

The scene ends.

Arrow 2

Okuni recounts her tale in a flashback. She was born in Izumo. There was a village where shrine maidens were born to suppress evil spirits with magic seals. In reality though, they were a good-for-nothing bunch. Although it was their livelihood to seal away evil, the shrine maidens they used were children with no relatives stolen away from elsewhere. These girls became human sacrifices -- raised and used up under the pretense of becoming shrine maidens of the seal. Eventually she was to become one such shrine maiden, but among the children stolen away, there was a single person.

A girl, Ohana, is hit, and a man scolds her for moving in the middle of a prayer. She apologises profusely, but he keeps hitting her. Okuni rushes in to help the girl. There's no meaning in hitting her so much. The man disagrees, and orders them both to be taken out to discipline them. Okuni, angry, calls for the destruction of the village. Beaten up, she and the girl end up locked in a cave. Ohana apologises. Okuni tells her it's fine.

Time passes, and Ohana asks where Okuni was taken from. She's not sure. Ohana thinks she must have been from a good family, with how she's so graceful and speaks so well. Maybe she's the daughter of some high-ranking official. While Ohana is talking down about herself, Okuni interrupts her to ask what she wants to do when she grows up. Okuni wants to become a dancer after she saw one visiting the village. She wants to see the world while making a profit off of dancing. Ohana laughs -- that's impossible, they'll forever be here to pray for the peace of the country. But who decided that, Okuni asks. It can't be the gods, they're there to save people, but if it is, Okuni will send them flying! The girls spend some more time chatting, and then the flashback fades.

In the Saitama detective office, Chacha is enraged at hearing about this village. Okuni calms her down; that village is no more, after all. She continues.

We return to the flashback. Okuni is wandering an underground passageway searching for Ohana. She wasn't aware there was such a place beneath the temple. There's a tremor. further in, Ohana is talking to someone -- if she removes this seal, can she really escape from the village? A voice tells her sure, it'll let her leave. It claims itself a decendant of the gods, locked away here after falling into a trap by some wicked people. If it can leave this place, it'll let the girl do as she pleases as way of thanks. Ohana removes the seal before Okuni can stop her. Ohana tells the dark entity appearing that it promised to grant her freedom; and it will. Freedom from everyone, and freedom from herself. It possesses Ohana. Okuni calls out to her, but Ohana rebukes her; Okuni's always looked down on her, she's sure of it. Ohana pauses -- she's never thought that. The entity assures her she has, in the depths of her heart. Yes, everyone's always had it out for her. They need to die. Ohana is enveloped in a dark aura, and the flashback ends.

In the detective office again, Okuni explains the entire village was eradicated that day. Ranmaru inquires what happened to Ohana. She was disposed of in a corner of the village. She never got to leave it, in the end. Some people call that entity the "Amanojaku", an descendant of the old kami; Ama-no-Sakagami. An evil god that strengthens the negative emotions lying in the very corners of people's hearts. It jumps from person to person, and as the months and years went by, threw the world into chaos. This is how Shinbei ended up that way, Ranmaru says. This is why Okuni travelled, as well, and she took a powerful exorcism treasure with her when she left the village -- which is Zanzaburou. She's not sure whether it's true or not that he was made from the husk of a kami, but since it looked like a trashy haniwa, she had it remodelled. Still, she never managed to find that entity and seal it away in life, and that regret became the core of her being. She joined the ranks of the Heroic Spirits after her death, but that determination never changed. The very fact that she was summoned as a Servant here proves that Ama-no-Sakagami is present. It must have possessed Sakamoto when he was summoned as a Servant in the Grail War. It's a wicked kami that only needs a slight gap to slip into the hearts of others and steer them towards destruction. Sealing this kami away is her duty, and she will fulfill it. 

Still, she won't do it alone. That Sakamoto has something Ranmaru needs back. Chaldea's Ryouma is also joining; he might not be that useful without Oryo, but he needs to do something about himself.

Takechi: "Ryouma, I--" Ryouma: "Takechi, you don't need to say anything. After that, I--" Izou: "...Oi, Ryouma." Ryouma: "...Izou?" Izou: "Piss off with your 'don't need to say anything'!"

Izou hits Ryouma.

Ryouma: "Guh!" Izou: "You too, Takechi!"

He proceeds to hit Takechi too.

Takechi: "Gah! Izou, you--" Izou: "You two always leave things unsaid! Say it so even an idiot like me can understand! I'm not a god or a Buddha, if you don't say the things you want to say, there's no way I'll understand it!"

The two are taken aback. Izou tells them to speak like back when they snuck in to eat an upper class samurai family's persimmons. People keep going about their business as if it's useless to talk to Izou -- this is why people like Takasugi went behind their backs! For a moment the others think Ama-no-Sakagami's taken hold of Izou, but Nagayoshi laughs; he's shouting nonsense. But perhaps because he's doing that, it'll resonate with the two. Ryouma and Takechi do take a moment to think. Takechi finds it funny he'd get scolded by Izou, of all people, but Ryouma finds he's the smartest of the three; and certainly the best at stealing persimmons. 

Ryouma: "Izou, thank you..." Izou: "That's disgusting, stop that!"

With this, Nagayoshi thinks it's obvious what they ought to do. Master agrees. They'll go together. Ryouma asks if Izou's got a plan, but he says that's Ryouma and Takechi's responsibility. 

Takechi: "Well then, let's steal every last persimmon from Takasugi's house, shall we?"

There's a tremor. Outside, an announcement proclaims a new martial law in Saitama, bidding all citizens moved to their assigned blocks. The citizens are confused, and Takasugi comes on the screen, apologising for the vague wording. He asks the citizens to return to their homes and stay there. Even if they don't want to move, they will be made to. Light spreads below the citizens. They probably won't die if they go home, he says.

Inside the detective office, Ranmaru notices the field drains the life force, the magical energy, of those within it. For Servants it is not lethal, but for normal humans, it is dangerous. Ryouma muses that the Restoration city itself is a reactor that gathers magical energy. This is likely for Takasugi's true goal; to build a god. The Kishin Project.

The scene shifts. Takasugi stands in an underground storage bay. He monologues -- he was probably born under the starts to do something great. Sakamoto asks when he thinks this thing will move. It'll probably take another half a day. Finally, Sakamoto declares, the strange god will manifest. As long as trouble doesn't find them, Takasugi reminds. As if on cue, an alarm goes off.

Takasugi: "See, there it is."

Back at the detective office, they're going over the plan. The city is separated into six different blocks, in which the magical energy furnaces are installed. They probably all lead to the central tower. They'll be usurping all six of those furnaces; if they can cut off Takasugi's supply routes, they can interfere with his plan. Six furnaces is a lot, though, and they're only 7 Servants. Chacha makes a comment about Izou normally sulking and drinking sake, and at Takechi's prompting, Izou introduces Chacha to him. They get back on topic. While they consider simply going along with the plan despite their numbers, the door to the office opens. A silhouette (Okita) appears.

???: "Fufufu, seems like you're in trouble, huh!"

The chapter ends.

[super-unpredictable98]

The Surprise "Surprise Party" | Misfits Timeline Anomaly' verse

An oc x oc collaboration between @seanfalco​ & @super-unpredictable98

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Strong language, smut

(Masterlist)

"Okay, so I used her favorite song, but you can pick another one, man," Lyddie's Nathan taunted. "Maybe her second favorite or the third..."

The two clones had been brainstorming ideas to propose, taking advantage of the time they had while the girls were taking a little trip to the Camden Market, as Lydia likes to do every couple of months.

"I dunno, man," Win's Nathan groaned, rubbing at his eyes before gesturing with the cigarette between his fingers, "I don't wanna do the same thing you did. I want it t'be my own thing," he mused.

"Well, you could do whatever, she'll say yes no matter what," Lyddie's Nathan knew that to be true, he knew her well enough to understand the way her heart works, it's more about the intention than the execution. "How 'bout the rooftop? She loves that place."

"Oooh yeah," he agreed with a sigh. "I could serenade her."

"She's a sucker for that shit, just take a song from Waitress, she has it somewhere in her binders... she cries every time she watches that," Lyddie's Nathan pulled a ring box from his back pocket and opened it. "D'you think Winnie will like this one?"

"Right right," Win's Nathan murmured as he looked down at the box. "Y-yeah, that's definitely a ring. It's a little flashy, though. She's kinda... she's more into simple jewelry," he stuttered, feeling his nerves return.

"No worries. For Lyds you can go crazy, she doesn't like diamonds and shit, but y'know, different shapes and colours..." her Nathan ran his fingers over the ring, changing it slightly to fit Winnie's aesthetic better. "What's wrong? Aren't you excited?"

"I'm..." he huffed an empty laugh, "kinda nervous, actually," he admitted reluctantly.

"Don't worry, it's gonna be great! Post-proposal sex is... Ugh, it's fuckin' incredible! I gave Lyds magic head with a lollipop at a pub, it was so cool!" Lyddie's Nathan tried to cheer his clone up.

"That sounds amazin'," Win's Nathan said, though it sounded forced. Placing his cigarette between his lips he took a long draw as he looked out over the Estate. "What if she says 'no' again?" he asked softly.

"She won't, Winnie knows you're serious now," Lyddie's Nathan pointed out. "I can't blame her for second guessin' at first, I know myself, but it'll be different. She's been all romantic lately, she wants this."

"I hope you're right, man," Win's Nathan sighed. "So... are we gunna propose at th'same time or--?"

"I thought it would be nice, this way she won't be wonderin' if the other will propose or not, unless y'wanna go alone..."

"No, no, I think that's a good idea," he exclaimed. "I don't want her to worry bout that either. Are we lettin' Lyds in on it?" he asked before thinking for a moment, "but wait... then wouldn't Lyds wonder if I'm gunna ask her? And what would Win think if I ask Lyds before her? Ugh, I'm startin' t'get a headache man."

"I think we should ask Winnie first. Lyds is gonna be cool with it, give her a little sexy treat, she won't even care, then when she least expects it... BAM! Proposal!" Lyddie's Nathan slammed his hand on the wall.

His clone jumped slightly, but the plan seemed like a solid one. "Yeah, yeah okay! When d'you wanna do this? I mean, before we leave for New York or once we get there?"

"Now that I think about it... New York might be more romantic, they're already gonna be all excited. I can't wait t'see their faces." Lyddie's Nathan was surprised at how much he actually wanted this.

"Right? That's what I was thinkin'. I have some good ideas!"

"Of course you do, you're me..."

"Hey there!" Lydia came in through the door looking like a ray of light. He quickly hid the ring and tried to look relaxed. "Guess what just came in the mail? It's from America!"

"Hey!' Win called, taking her jacket off and following her girlfriend in, noticing how stiff the two Nathan's looked.

Lyddie carefully opened a yellow envelope and reached inside, pulling out a set of keys. "LOOK AT IT!" she jumped around jiggling them, she was so exhilarated she didn't even notice anything weird with the boys.

"Are those...? That's great, Lollipop!" her Nathan pulled her into his lap.

Win came to stand behind her Nathan, squeezing his shoulder as he looked up at her, his head resting against her chest and she brushed his curls out of his face, smiling softly down at him. "Are those the keys to our new place?" she asked.

"Yes!" Lydia let her body dramatically drape on the couch, her head now resting on Win's Nathan's lap. "I can't believe this is real, we're actually going, and I'm actually gonna be on Broadway! I'm so happy I could... I don't even know!"

“I’m so excited,” Win exclaimed, grinning down at her. “Looks like all your dreams are comin’ true, huh babe?”

"Yeah, but I wanna make all your dreams come true, I want everyone to be as happy as I am right now..." she jumped. "I'll start by making us something to eat. I'm starving, what do you guys want?"

"I don't care, I'll eat anythin'," her Nathan gave her thigh a squeeze.

“Same,” his clone called, pulling Win into his lap. “Did you girls have fun today?” he asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'll just make some quick fried rice with the leftovers we have, cause I don't wanna waste time today, I just wanna cuddle you all," Lydia ran to the kitchen, gathering everything as fast as she could and throwing it into a bowl. "It was amazing, Nats, I got a new jacket!"

"I think she might explode, we should be careful..." her Nathan joked, glad to see his fiancé so happy.

“Cuddling sounds nice,” Win murmured, stretching out between the two Nathans. “We had a good time. Lyds made me buy some new boots,” she chuckled.

"It's not my fault you looked so hot in those boots!" Lyddie shouted. "I just wanted you to step on me with them..."

“Don’t worry, I’ll step on you any time, babe!” Win laughed. “What were you two up to?” she asked curiously.

"Just talkin' y'know," Lyddie's Nathan leaned back, slapping his clone's shoulder to ask for help. "About... who gets which girl tonight."

“Y-yeah,” he exclaimed, “y’know, just guy talk.”

“Oh, I see, and we get no say in who gets who?” she teased, cocking an eyebrow at them. “What if we don’t want t’have sex tonight, d’you think of that?”

"Well... You do have a say, we're just spitballin' here," Lyddie's Nathan grumbled nervously. "And who you wanna fool? When don't you want sex? You two are like horny rabbits."

Win frowned, glancing from one clone to the other. “Okay y’got me,” she murmured with a cheeky grin, “but seriously, are you okay? You guys seem a little... tense,” she pointed out, turning to smush Lyddie’s Nathan’s face between her hands.

"We're fine, we just missed you," he leaned in for a kiss, hoping to distract her. "Terribly, Winnie baby..." he held her with one hand while the other shoved the ring box back into his pocket.

"Okay, it's not my best creation, but I hope you guys like it," Lydia walked back to the living room trying to carry four plates at once.

“Here lemme help you,” Win’s Nathan exclaimed, jumping up to grab some of the plates.

“That smells good, what is it?” Win asked, pausing to give Lyddie’s Nathan another kiss, though she still couldn’t shake the feeling that something had happened.

"Thanks, baby... I found some rice, threw in a few eggs, bell peppers, onions, carrots, all the leftovers," Lyds was about to sit down, but ran back to the kitchen, coming back with three beers and a glass of water.

“Thank you, babe,” Winnie exclaimed taking her beer and digging into her rice. “So apparently while we’re gone all the boys do is talk about who gets t’shag who,” she said nonchalantly, throwing a mischievous glance back at Lyddie’s Nathan.

"Nathan Young!" she gaped at him before taking her first bite. "What conclusion did you guys get to? Just out of curiosity..."

"No conclusion yet, why? Y'got a preference?" he winked at her.

“Yeah, I’m curious too,” Win’s Nathan murmured, his grin looking strained. Win frowned as she watched him. She knew something was up.

"No, I'll shag anyone," Lydia looked between all of her partners. "Or everyone, if that's something you'd like..."

Lyddie's Nathan noticed Win's uneasiness and slipped a hand on her thigh. "We haven't decided yet, but you're lookin' especially sexy today, baby."

“Yeah, she is,” her Nathan agreed, his gaze lingering on her a moment before reaching for his drink.

“Well, thank you, but I don’t think I look any different from any other day,” she chuckled, setting her empty plate down.

Maybe if she got her Nathan alone she could weasel out of him what was going on.

"I think you look just as sexy as ever, which is perfect," Lydia shrugged, still oblivious to anything that was happening. "Maybe you're the one I should shag today..."

"Actually," Lyddie's Nathan looked down. "We have to confess... we were plannin' a surprise for you two, we're throwin' a party before we move out. I know I shouldn't have told them, man, but I'm a terrible liar."

Win’s Nathan’s eyes widened and he clutched at the straw his clone had offered. “What, why’d yeh hadta go and tell 'em!?”

“What, really?” Win asked, her expression lifting. “So, that’s what you were talkin’ about,” she exclaimed, a grin making its way across her face. “I guess I was worrying over nothing,” she murmured to herself, her tension fading.

"Sorry! Winnie could see right through me! I tried distractin' her, but I'm shit at this!" Lyddie's Nathan shouted back. Well now they had a party to plan, but at least they managed to throw her off the scent.

"Aww that's so sweet," Lydia smiled before sipping on her water and taking the empty plates to the kitchen. "You guys are the best, I love you so much!"

“Aw you guys are the best,” Win agreed, pressing a kiss to each Nathan’s cheek before getting up to go help her girlfriend in the kitchen.

As soon as she was gone, her Nathan deflated, running his hand down his face. “Nice thinkin’, mate,” he sighed. “I needta get it together.”

"Yeah, you fuckin' better or they will find out!" Lyddie's Nathan whispered. "Just calm down, it'll be fine! They're gonna love it."

“Yeah, yeah, I just wish my brain would stop replayin’ the look on her face th’last time I asked her...” he said shaking his head.

"It won't happen again, I know she'll say yes," Lyddie's Nathan looked back to make sure the girls weren't listening. "I have no idea how we're gonna get married, but we're gettin' engaged!"

“Yeah... I was kinda wonderin’ how that would work. I mean... there’s no way that’d be legal, right?”

Technically, he didn’t care either way if the whole thing was legal or not, he just wanted to make a promise to the girls that he’d always be there for them. Even if the rest of the world didn’t recognize it, he wanted t’be able to call each of them his wife.

"I'm no expert but there's no way that's legal," Lyddie's Nathan laughed. "It doesn't matter though, who can stop us from doin' it? Screw everyone," to be fair, none of the boys has ever been good at following rules, so they were not that worried.

"Hey," Lydia wrapped her arms around Win, kissing her neck gently as they got to the kitchen. "You do look sexy today, you know?"

“Not as sexy as you,” she murmured with a sigh. “I bet you’d look especially hot with that new jacket on and nothin’ underneath it,” she teased, pulling her closer.

"How about you with your new boots and nothing else? I'd love to see that," Lydia brushed her lips softly against Win's. "I'm way too horny to function today."

“I can see that,” she chuckled as Lyddie’s hands slipped lower. “God I knew I shoulda finger banged you in the dressing room when I had the chance,” she teased.

"Don't let that stop you, baby, you know my father always said: it's never too late to finger bang your girlfriend," Lyddie joked, ever since the talk with everyone she's been a lot more... affectionate. "And that was the most important lesson he has ever taught me."

Win threw back her head and laughed. “Your dad said that? Really? Well, who am I to disagree,” she taunted, pushing her back against the counter as one hand slipped under her skirt.

“You know, I knew those two were up to somethin’ as soon as we walked in,” she mused as her fingers found Lyddie’s sex and she dragged her lips across her throat. “I could’ve sworn it was something different, but a party sounds like fun.”

Lydia gasped, covering her mouth as she moaned, tilting her head to give more access to her neck.

"Y-yeah, I love parties, I didn't notice anything but I'm... oh my God, please mark me up, baby. I'm so needy today, I wanna feel you," she begged as she ran her fingers through Win's hair.

Winnie smirked against her skin as she inserted a second finger, curling up to hit her g-spot as she ground the heel of her own hand against Lyddie's clit, lips all over her neck to mark her, feeling rather powerful as her girlfriend whined and squirmed in pleasure.

“God, I love it when you’re needy babe,” she purred, moving lower to leave another love bite, the last ones she’d left already starting to fade.

"Sweetie, you're so good, I love you so much..." Lydia whimpered as she melted in Win's arms, holding onto the counter to keep from falling.

She loved that her neck was now permanently covered in hickeys and bite marks, she liked the feeling of other people knowing what a good girl she was to deserve all those rewards.

"Faster, please, I'm getting close," she murmured, bringing her girlfriend's face closer, waiting to look at her, taste her lips.

“Whatever my Lollipop wants,” Win cooed, bringing Lyddie to the edge, pressing an open mouth kiss to her lips as she came to swallow her moans.

Pulling her hand free, Winnie adjusted Lyddie’s skirt and gently kissed her once more.

“Mmmm, I love you Lyds,” she drawled. “You’re such a good girl.”

"Wow, okay, now I can wash the dishes," Lydia sighed, fixing her slightly messed up hair.

Somehow that made her hornier than before, maybe she just had way too much energy from being so excited. "And then if you want, I can return the favor..."

"We can hear you, y'know?" her Nathan snorted.

"Don't worry, there's enough for everyone," she assured.

——————————————————

Later that night, after both girls were curled up in bed, completely exhausted after the thorough seeing to both Nathans had given them, Win’s Nathan slipped from the room, watching them both from the doorway for a moment before going to the balcony for a smoke.

Placing the cigarette between his lips he gave a flourish with his hand and with a snap pulled a thin silver ring from the air. Pulling the cigarette from his lips to idly blow a stream of smoke into the night air as he studied the ring, making sure it was perfect.

"Is this one for Winnie?" Lyddie's Nathan joined his clone after giving each of the girls a kiss and closing the bedroom door as silently as possible.

Truth is he knew that feeling, the only reason why he wasn't nervous was that Lydia had said yes when he asked. He would be terrified if her first answer was no, but he didn't lie when he said he was sure Winnie was ready now.

Win’s Nathan gave a start as his clone joined him, nearly dropping the ring and his cigarette. “Yeah,” he answered after a moment of composing himself.

“What d’you think? I made it stackable so she can wear both of 'em comfortably,” he explained. The ring was similar to the one the other Nathan had made, but still different, just like them.

"It's really nice. I think she's gonna love it."

Lyddie's Nathan never imagined he would become friends with his clone, at first they were more like rivals, then it changed to them tolerating each other for the sake of the girls, but now... he couldn't really imagine how lonely it would be without him.

He always wanted a brother. After Jamie died he thought it was over, but it was nice to have someone who always understands and would always be by his side.

“Good, cuz I have some more thoughts now! Since we’re gunna be in New York that’ll open up a whole new set of possibilities!” Win's Nathan exclaimed. “Lyds’ll be easy! I’ll take her t’ Times Square and make all the television screens spell out ‘Marry Me Lyddie’,” he said excitedly, his worries somewhat put at ease from his twin's constant assurances.

"Oh, man, she's gonna love it! You should climb the red stairs, she won't even see it comin' cause it's right above the TKTS stand, she's always there for Broadway tickets!" Lyddie's Nathan was happy to see that things seemed to be working out. For a second he thought about the girls needing to be engaged to each other as well, but that sounded like a them problem.

Win’s Nathan nodded as he took in the suggestion. Winnie would be a little trickier, but he was sure between the two of them they’d figure something out.

“Hey, uhm... thanks,” he said, his voice coming out a little gruff, unused to opening up about his feelings. “I just... I appreciate your... help.”

"No problem, man," Lyddie's Nathan knew how much that meant to him, but also knew how hard it was for him to say that, to be serious about something. They shared a face, a brain, a past, two girls, a flat (soon to be two), but it was still a challenge to be vulnerable with each other. "Anytime."

Tag List: @elliethesuperfruitlover @firstpersonnarrator @spanishmossmagnolia @a-ghoulish-tale

[delkios]

[fic][Star Wars: Republic Commando, Sev, OCs, G] Go Now and Finish What’s to be Done

Takes place in the nonexistent RepComm sequel where Sev ends up joining the beginnings of the rebellion.  I haven't found a detailed explanation for how the inhibitor chips work but I figure there'd be some kind of fail-safe in the event Order 66 is instituted while a clone is unable to take comms, has busted gear or is simply sleeping.  I personally imagine once chips are activated they transmit an activation code to any inactive chips nearby and the order stays dormant in the mind until a trigger (Jedi) occurs.

Title from Iron Maiden's Afraid to Shoot Strangers.

Title: Go Now and Finish What's to be Done Fandom: Star Wars: Republic Commando Rating: PG Word Count: 2988 Characters: Sev, original characters Summary: A year after the fall of the Republic, Sev brushes against Order 66.

He was never going to get used to all these people.  Even after the months spent in a Trandoshian slave ship, stuffed in a cell with so many other creatures he felt like he could scarcely breath, Sev felt uncomfortable having people constantly around him even at a distance.  It made him acutely aware of the people he was missing.

It certainly didn’t help that more people seemed to be arriving every day, making this ramshackled outpost feel claustrophobic with each new transport.  Someone was going to start paying attention if they got too much bigger but the folks in charge of this… ‘rebellion’, as they were calling it, were too busy arguing about what their goals were and how to achieve them to pay attention to that kind of detail.

If Sev didn’t owe some of those people his life, he would’ve bugged out on his own.  That and damn near none of them understood how guerrilla warfare actually worked which left him, by the some cosmic joke, the only one capable of teaching them how not to get their fool selves killed.

He rubbed at his forehead, waiting in the hangar for some pilots he was meant to turn into sharpshooters.  Another headache.  It was feeling near constant these days, probably should get it checked out but it was hardly something Sev couldn’t work through.  Couldn’t even count how many missions he’d done with a concussion, a headache was nothing.

Something in his periphery caught Sev’s attention, drawing it to the far landing pad: a child, peering about nervously and making an attempt to hide behind a much larger being- likely their guardian -in discussion with the dock master.  Even from that distance Sev could recognize the filthy, tattered robes and the object hanging from the child’s belt.  A Jedi.

Jedi needed to be executed.

Sev was halfway across the hangar, hunting knife in hand, before awareness slammed into him.  The reality of what he’d just been about to do crashed on him so heavily it pushed the air from his lungs, skin breaking out into a cold sweat.  His hands shook, his knees nearly buckled and there was a pressure in his head, urging him to kill the child.  He heard his knife clatter to the deck, faint around the sound of his blood roaring in his ears.  He stumbled out, allowing himself to think of nothing but getoutgetougetout for fear that foreign killing urge would return.

“Whoa, Sev- you okay, man?”

There were hands on him and Sev belatedly realized he was being supported by someone and that he’d somehow managed to get out of the hangar.  “Out,” he gasped, “gotta get out.”

“Out where?”

“Away.  Somewhere… out.”

“Ooookay, I’m taking you to Charla.  You look terrible and you’re kinda freaking me out.”

Sev had no choice but to trust in whoever was bodily hauling him because the light of the hall was harsh and he had to squeeze his eyes shut to try to block them out.  His head throbbed, the duel mantra of execute the Jedi and good soldiers follow orders racing through his head so fast he couldn’t think about anything else.

“What happened?”

“I dunno- he just charged outta the hangar and ran into me.”

“Get him on the table.”

Another set of hands were on him and Sev finally registered the sharp scent of disinfectant and the memory of Kamino hit him so hard that Sev crumpled over the table he’d been lead to.  Good soldiers follow orders defective product decommission defective product good soldiers follow orders execute the Jedi, “No,” he moaned, strength finally giving out on him, “not defective, don’t decommission me, I’ll be good.  Good soldiers follow orders good soldiers follow orders not defective good soldiers follow orders.”

“Dank farrik- give me that hypo.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know- PTSD trigger probably.”

There was a sharp prick to the side of his neck and a soft hiss.  A gradual numbness overtook Sev, forcing the tension out of his muscles and turning his thoughts sluggish.  His breathing evened out and the smears of light and color eventually resolved into recognizable shapes.  He was laying on the floor, he realized, having crawled under an examination table, half curled into a ball.  Two people were staring at him with open concern- Charla, the closest thing to a head medic they had, and one of the pilots Sev was teaching, Reever.

“Sev,” Charla asked in a carefully measured tone, “how are you feeling?”

His eyes wandered for a moment, not entirely sure how or why he was in the position he was in.  Eventually he settled on replying with, “Like osik.”

“Well, you kinda look it.”  The old Gran’s distended lips pulled back over flat teeth as she smiled at Sev.  She held out her hand.  “Can you come out?”

Honestly he kind of wanted to just fall asleep.  But he pushed himself up on his hands good soldiers follow orders and crawled out.  With a little prodding, Sev managed to sit on the examination table.

“Good lad.  Now, what happened to you?”

“There’s something wrong with my head.”

Charla hummed, pulling a tray of examination tools nearby.  “How so?”

“I wanted to kill someone.”

Reever snorted, making themself comfortable on a nearby chair.  “How is that different from how you normally are?”

Sev turned to glare at the human but Charla’s hold on his chin was too strong.  “I know what bloodlust feels like.  I know what killing intent feels like.  I’ve killed out of anger and hate and fear and panic.  I’ve killed because I had to and I’ve killed without caring about it.  This wasn’t like any of that.”

Reever grimaced but Charla didn’t bat any of her three eyes.  “What was it like?”

Sev forced back a wince as she shone a light into his eyes.  “Involuntary.  It wasn’t like an impulse, my body just moved on its own.”

“Disassociating?”

“No.  It didn’t feel like that.  It was like… something had taken over.  I started having thoughts that didn’t make any sense.”

“Like what?”

His jaw twitched as the words came back to him, faint in the thick fog of medication but it still made him want to throw up.  “ ‘Good soldiers follow orders’,” he repeated, “ ‘execute the Jedi’.”

Reever stiffened, sitting up straighter.  “That can’t be a coincidence, right?  That you started thinking about killing Jedi at the same time one’s supposed to come here?”

Charla hummed, tapping a finger to her mouth.  “They say the clone army turned on the Jedi.  Does it have something to do with that?”

Sev shook his head.  “I don’t see how.  I was MIA before that happened.”

“Wait- you’re a clone?”

As one, both Sev and Charla turned to Reever with a slow look.  “Did you not catch on to the fact his name is Seven?”

“Hey, I fly with Porkins.  I don’t judge people’s names.”

Turning back to her patient, Charla continued as if she hadn’t been sidetracked.  “How does your head feel right now?”

“Hurts.  Felt like it was splitting before the hypo.”

“How long has it felt like that?”

The moment flashed in his mind and Sev shut his eyes as another fresh stab went through his head.  “Right after I realized I was gonna kill the Jedi.  Been having headaches for a while before, don’t know if that’s related.”

“How long before?”

“Dunno.  Maybe… three weeks ago?  About the time of my last mission.”

Charla looked through Sev’s file she had pulled up on a tablet.  “I don’t see any mentions of injuries from then.”

“Wasn’t injured.  Just raiding an Imperial cache.  Simple snatch-and-grab.  We only ran into a couple troopers, took care of ‘em easily.”

She hummed, then gently pushed Sev down onto his back.  “Well, lets get you scanned, see if that will reveal anything.”  She pushed a couple buttons on the table’s control panel, unlocking it from the dock so it could float freely, then moving it to hook to the medical imager’s railing.

The machine turned on and Sev closed his eyes to the light, focusing on his centering practices as the imager whirred around him.  He was finally feeling calm and much more like himself when the process ended and Charla made an unhappy sound.  “I’m not seeing anything on the scan.  No abnormalities, no swelling, no unnatural spikes in chemistry.  Everything matches with your last scan.”

And there went his calm.  He’d never been great at centering himself when not on mission.  “There has to be something,” Sev growled around gritted teeth.  He made a distressed sound in the back of his throat, resisting the urge to clutch at his aching head.  “I don’t blank out like that.  There has to be- I can feel it eating away at my thoughts!”  Eating away at his sense of self, at his control.  For all that Vau had beaten aggression and stubbornness and ruthlessness into his clones, he hated berserkers.  The moment you lose yourself on the battlefield is the moment you get you and your squad killed.  You will never lose control, you will never need to- you will be better than that.

“Hmm… let me try a deeper scan.”  Charla put a hand on Sev’s shoulder, startling him out of the memory.  “This may hurt a little.”

He merely nodded.  Pain was fine.  He could deal with pain.  The machine whirred on again and Sev couldn’t help the initial wince.  It was a cross between pressure and pinpoint pricks moving through his brain.  But it was a simple thing to endure and it helped him focus on regaining his calm.

Charla made a sound, buttons beeping as the traveling pain halted and reversed.  It halted again, feeling like all the little pins were centered on one section of his head, edging on the far side of uncomfortable.  “There’s something odd…”

“The bacata processing implant?”

“I already know about that,” she chided lightly, “and unless it somehow migrated inside your skull, no.”

Sev’s blood flushed cold.  “What do you mean it’s in my skull?”

“It’s either the very beginnings of a tumor or someone put something in your brain that they didn’t want anyone to find.”

Neither option was especially appealing to Sev but, knowing the Kaminoans, he’d place his bets on the latter.  “Can you get it out?”

“I don’t know what it is.”

“If it’s not supposed to be there, then it’s safe to take out, right?”  Sev was trying not to sound like he wasn’t trying to keep from panicking but those thrice-damned kaminii put something in his brain.  “So get it out.”

Charla gave him a measured look.  She put her hand back on Sev’s shoulder and gave him a grounding squeeze.  Sev had heard others refer to her as matronly, grandmotherly, and Sev had no idea what that meant but something about her always seemed comforting, even when she was ordering people around.  “I’ll have to put you under for the procedure.  From what I can tell it shouldn’t take long but you’ll be in the medbay when you wake up, alright?”

“Alright.”

“Reever-” Stang, Sev completely forgot they were there, “let someone know Sev will be in medical for the time being.”

“What should I tell them?”

“That he’ll be under observation until I release him.”

“Got it.”  Reever came just into Sev’s view, patting his ankle gently.  “Good luck, bud.  Place won’t be the same without you skulking around.”

Sev growled in response and laughter trailed Reever’s retreat.  The table moved away from the imager and towards one of the surgery bays.  When Charla came back into view, she was holding a set of clippers.  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to shave off some of your hair.”  She pressed the back of a thick nail to the right side of his head a little above the ear, right before the curve of the skull.  “In this area.”

There was no way around it, of course, but that information still gave Sev pause.  His hair was well beyond unruly these days, using hair ties and headbands to keep the curls from falling into his face.  But he’d yet to get it cut since his abandonment on Kashyyk.  Fixer had been the only one to cut his hair since training- kept all of Delta’s hair in regulation length during their downtime.  Sev couldn’t stand the thought of someone else doing it.

Sev took a deep breath and said, “Alright.”  It was quick- just a buzzing and a slight vibration to the side of his head, cool air rushing against the newly exposed skin.  It barely took a minute but it left Sev shaken afterward.

He heard Charla set the clippers down and move away to prep for the surgery, leaving Sev to focus on his breathing and forcing himself not to reach up and touch the spot.  Hopefully he’d be able to cover the bald patch up somehow.  He didn’t think he could stand to have someone messing with his hair long enough to make it look less blatant.  He was mildly amazed that this was shaping up to be the hardest part in the whole ordeal.  When the Gran came back, she had a mask over her face and a hypo in a gloved hand.  “Ready?”

“Yeah.”  He shut his eyes.  “Let’s do this.”

---

When Sev woke up again the pressure in his head was gone and he breathed deeply for the first time in what felt like years.  His eyes roamed along the ceiling of the medbay with a sudden clarity before they found Charla leaning over him and Reever hovering in the background.  “How are you feeling, Sev?”  Charla asked softly.

“Better.  The normal kind of murdery.”  His mouth felt thick and he accepted the glass of water passed his way.  “What was it?”

Charla reached to the side as Sev pushed himself to a seated position.  She held up a clear case with a fleshy colored, amoeba-looking thing pressed inside.  “This.  An initial biopsy shows it’s structure is too consistent to be purely organic.  I’m going to take it to the tech lab and see what they think.”

“Why are they here?”  He asked, pointing to Reever.

“Dodonna wanted me to keep him updated on your condition.  Also you’re, like, my friend so I also wanted to keep updated on your condition.  Synda found your knife in the hangar, by the way."

“You're not getting it back until I clear you from medical," Charla said promptly.  "I did a number of scans while you were out.  I found no other anomalies, your brain seems stable and the surgery went well.  You really are feeling better?”

“My head doesn’t hurt anymore.  Guess I won’t really know until I see that Jedi again.”

“Yeah, about that,” Reever looked disturbed, “I found out that that Jedi is a kid.  Were you really gonna kill a kid?”

“That’s what my body wanted to do, so yeah.”

Reever gaped in horror.  “Sev- that’s supremely karked up.”

Sev rolled his eyes.  “I’m fourteen, I’m well aware how karked up everything about me is.”

Their mouth flapped, not sure if they believed Sev or not.  Charla frowned thoughtfully.  “Well.  I suppose that explains why some of your brain scans so different than other humans of your… presumed age.”

“You’re very tall for a fourteen year old,” Reever said weakly.

“Accelerated aging.  I get to live twice the speed of a human in half the time.”  The clone snorted.  “Not like any of us expected to live that long anyway.”

Reever rubbed a hand over their face.  “Sev, man- I’m learning so much about you today and absolutely all of it is horrifying.  Stang, no wonder you’re the way you are.”

Sev just scoffed.  They didn’t know the half of it.

“Well, I suppose that leaves us two very big questions to answer.”  Charla held up fingers as she counted.  “One- what exactly this thing is and what does it do to you, and two- were you a special case that got it implanted or does every clone have one.”

For a painful eternity, Sev’s heart froze.  His fingers curled over the edge of the table and he could feel his breath rattling in his lungs.  “I need to get my brothers.  I need to get them out of the Empire and that,” he spat, pointing an accusatory finger at whatever had been taken out of his brain, “out of their heads.”

“Assuming that was actually the problem,” said Reever.

“And if it is,” Charla cradled the case in her hands, face uncharacteristically grim, “we may have found something extremely important for the Rebellion.”

If the chip was the problem than it would mean, to some degree, this entire thing had been planned from the beginning.  “I need to see Dodonna.”  Sev felt that old, familiar fire raging up inside of him as well as a rare clarity.  First, he was going to save his brothers.  Then he was going to dismantle this Empire, built on the lives and subjugation of his fellow clones.  Then he was going hunt down every kaminii that took part in the program and break every bone in their skinny little necks.

[general-du-vallon]

I find it really bizarre how there are multiple story-lines in the BBC Musketeres about slavery where the slavers are treated sympathetically. By which I don't mean that all slavers should be inhuman, because people who were part of the slave-trade were human and were like us (I'm white), we have to see ourselves in them, I think it's really important that we see ourselves in them and see ourselves as part of that history. So having Bonnaire who is charming, likeable, interesting, entertaining character who I like and then am horrified at myself for liking, that's great, that does something interesting with the narrative of 'slave traders are all evil and souless' and reminds us that, no, slavers are us, we can still easily perpetuate those sorts of systems.

(racism and slave-trade content warnings, as you'd imagine)

This is long, so basically it'll be - Bonnaire and the season one episode, Pierre Pepin and the season two episode, and then a little bit on Bonnaire's return in season three.

I haven't rewatched for this random splurge of thoughts, but I think the Bonnaire episode in season one is an okay arc. I could probably say something about how I think it's not necessarily bad, but definitely worth interogating the ways the writers give the majority of the story and character beats about slavery to the mixed-race Porthos character. But really what I think needs interogating is two things.

First, the way the episode tries to balance this heavy subject with Athos's history, which is more important to the series-long arc. It ends up (accidentally?) drawing uncomfortable parallels.

There isn't really a good way to compare or contrast a white man's guilt and grief over his (white) wife who was executed (by him). There's never a graceful way to push aside generational trauma from the ongoing slave-trade, or a black man's grief over discovering a man he looked up to is a slaver. Especially not when you're trying to juggle staging that grief and trauma with the white characters' trauma and grief, and most especially when it's the white stuff that turns out to be the main narrative drive of the series and the rest just gets put aside not to be brought up again. It's just bad. There's a lot more to say and think about, but that's a starting point.

Secondly, Paul Munier. Paul fucking Munier. Guys! He's part of the slave-trade too! framing him as an honest merchant is fucked up. He's not the good guy. We can't go 'okay so Bonnaire is bad, but the things he has got through the slave trade, those belong to Paul Munier, who bought them, and is honest and good'. The slave-trade was a triangle - you go to Africa and you kidnap and enslave hundreds of human beings, you take them on ships to America and plantations, you force them to produce sugar-cane and rum (rum is what Bonnaire is drinking on that wagon, when he's telling Porthos dreamy stories). Sugar and rum, those are like, bywords for 'slave-trade'. And then you sell those comoddities and you buy whatever the fuck you want to sell to fuckers like Paul Munier and bring it back to France, and then you go to Africa again. Paul Munier is part of the slave trade. He might not buy and sell human beings, but he supports and props up Bonnaire, and he benefits from the slave-trade.

He might be a good guy, I dunno. I odn't think it's a black and white issue of he's a merchant therefore he's the bad guy. But I think it's worth interogating and thinking about who gets to be innocent in this story.

I know Bonnaire comes back in series three but I'm ignoring that for this second. The other narrative around slavery I think about is actually the one in season two, where the king and d'Artagnan are kidnapped by slavers. Sigh. What are we going to do about this one, huh? there is a lot. I'm gonna put aside the whole 'white slaves' thing because I don't know what to do with that. It took me a few times watching this show to realise 'oh, right, yeah, Milady is a slaver'. Between series one and series two, she made money by selling humans. I know she's moraly ambiguous but I think that gets brushed aside and reframed very quickly. I don't think any of these characters are really framed as slavers. I forget their names, I think Stephen something? The brother who gets gutted by Rochefort in the palace. Yeah, he's a slaver too.

Other than the writers quickly forgetting that these characters are committing attrocities (it's not THE slave trade, so it is different, which I guess might be where the white slavers thing comes in, which is still, no, I still don't know what to do with that). I think the main issue with this narrative arc is what you'd expect the issue to be - the black character. Pierre Pepin.

Where do we begin with that? That was just a lot of bullshit. Pierrre Pepin is a black man in shackles,which is always a questionable choice when you're thinking what to put on TV to be honest. Especially when you then go about killing the him, and wow do you ever want to have second thoughts about having him die for the white royal. That's just not good. I don't like that he's against the king's systematic opession based on class and race, then he does a little turnaround when he meets the king. I guess the 'becomes a royalist when he sees that the white dude is nice' is necessary for the 'willing to die for his king' thing. I'm gonna go with a big nope for all of this.

There's a slave-narrative in each of the three seasons; there's Bonnaire, then there's Pierre Pepin's story, and then Bonnaire returns. He might not be a slaver anymore in season three, but the episode deals with Porthos's reaction to him, so it becomes that - the damage he did is not erased by him being quirky and funny. Again, the very real generational trauma that the slave-trade still inflicts is pushed aside for another character's past and current grief. I know Santiago Cabrera is Chilean and is brown, I'm not saying he should be pushes aside either. Just noting that in each episode Porthos's grief is set up in competition to another character's grief, and it's interesting I think that it's one of the other's backstories in each case. I don't have a conclusion about that, I'm just observing I guess. Anyway, each season has these slave-narratives, I think it'd be interesting to pull these out more and think about the ways the slave-trade is referenced and written about in the series, and why it's done in these ways.

I said it was bizzare how these narratives treat the characters who are perpetuating and benefiting from the slave trade, as well as the characters who are explicitly slavers. I also think it's definitley a choice to shove in multiple storylines about white people, in these narratives. Again, I know the Santiago Cabrera isn't white, but whatever Aramis's friend in that episode is called, is.There is the scene in that episode where Constance (a white woman) has a go at Porthos for the way he stitches Bonnaire, and Bonnaire is largely treated sympathetically in that episode. The characters on the periphery of the slave-trade are barely acknowledged as such, and characters like Milady and Stephen Mautrim (name is off the top of my head I'm not sure) are pretty much absolved of that, and I think we mostly just forget that part of Milady's story. And Pierre Pepin. God, I still don't really know where to start with his story.

I think it's worth thinking about these narratives and interogating this, because the slave-trade was a real historical event and a real trauma that still has impact today. The way we write about and consume stories about it is important. It's also important to remember that Porthos's mother was written as a freed woman because Alexandre Dumas's grandmother was a freed woman. It's a very real and very close history that's being used for these narratives, and it's heavy, you know? You've got to give it space to be heavy. It's a heavy part of this fandom, too, because it's not just something that's in the show, it's something that's in our fandom spaces. The racism and white-supremacy that makes these narratives what they are is part of our fandom.

so... those are my random thoughts on that .

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Comic buff with a thought, I notice the P5MM art and composition is more striking and closer to p5's art and style than the other manga, which is fine, but kinda... flat. (I find myself thinking there's something missing when I read it, then I look back at P5MM and I notice how there's more clever paneling, imagery, and stylistic choices akin to the games in it (like that one goro panel ya had a rant about) and I realize what's missing) That could be why P5MM is brought up more, just a guess. I dunno how you feel about all that though, I'm curious.

Under the cut cause it gets long cause of pictures:

I am very big on art style and visual presentation. I do actually judge a book by it's cover (manga, game, movie, show, yadda). If I find something pleasing to my eye I'll read it.....even if the contents are trash. Domestic Girlfriend is one, horrible manga (didn't finish, was holding out for Momo, aka best girl, and getting closure for her....then I bounced). Didn't watch the anime (didn't need to I was way ahead in the manga I think), but I know that opening is wasted on it. ldskfjaf Don't invest your time into it, it's not worth it, you would probably learn better morals from P5.......probably. But yeah I found the art style pleasing enough to try it out (I's not amazing by any means, but I like looking at it....or did.....that writing man....dat was bad ;w;).... *waves hands vaguely in air* yeah.

Fun fact, it's why I got into Persona. I happened across an ad for P4 on the PS2 in the Gameinformer magazine, it showed a screenshot from an animated cutscene plus one of the fully body art for the chars and I was like "Yes this is my jam!" (which only doubled down when I read what it was about, and it was a murder mystery and the article also talked up "the mystery of the glasses" which fakldjsalkfs yeah). So yeah it really clicked for me.

Tbh it's why I'm probably going to get back into freaking Bleach, and it's why I got into it and Naruto over One Piece (I don't think I'll ever read ON I'm sorry). Tite Kubo has sexy art what can I say? Can't trust a thing that man writes now but eh. It's also the reason I read a lot of Shojo (and now Yuri) manga, cause their art style is usually what I find very appealing (even if I've read the same gd shojo love story just by a different name for the 1000th time, give me the flowers and sparkly eyes! they are my life blood!)

And I've mentioned I really like Saito's art style. I've (attempted) to color some of his pieces on top of animate some manga frames (most of which I haven't actually published......I...I should....get around to finishing those up....haha...aha....haaaa). I really like his art, it's pleasant. But even with good art, I can still see past it and see what BS it's peddling and it can hamper my enjoyment of it. If I don't look at the context of the scene or the words on the page, I can be down with it. But when I'm reading.......I get annoyed. I balk at anything with Goro. I guffaw whenever Makoto's on screen (cause Saito nails her from P5, she acts useful but really she's useless but the narrative views her as useful it ironically makes her useless......it's the weirdest thing I've ever witnessed >.>). Like Saito really.....gets P5 it seems, down to it's flaws even (tho he can actually make the good parts of P5 shine, or at least parts that P5 failed to execute....execute in a way). But he also makes the flaws.....shine that much harder for me.

Now the Reg manga? it's nothing special art style wise, in fact it starts off VERY wonky, and while still wonky, has gotten a lot....better/cuter (esp Ryu). Not like shojo cute just.......I wanna squish their wittle faces cute (at times when it's not serious).

Like when it comes to Reg Manga these are the two pieces that have appeared in it that I feel kinda hit the P5 mark in terms of style:

(look at Mona, coming into this world like the pustule that he is 8U)

Which isn't much, but it's something. At least Reg's AOA is better looking than the anime. 8U

But I dunno, as the chapters go on, the Mangaka allows for more cuter expressions, and I just like their neat:

(btw I colored that page)

I dunno, it's not as overtly cutsey as Saito:

But they are still charming in a more simple way (without out having them go full chibi), it subtle but it gives it flavor. "Silly why are most, if not all those pics of Ryu and Anne?" I dunno guys maybe you should ask them how their backs are doing, cause they're the ones who are carrying the Reg manga when it comes to this! 8U

Tho I do think the first ch or two of Reg does a better job capturing P5's feel than the rest of the chapters, I think the mangaka is just.....bogged down by exposition and the game's BS that a lot of text on their pages so it almost reads like a novel:

ALots of text, not the most dynamic of framing with the panels. It's kinda eh. I haven't really read the manga past the 2nd dungeon tbh (I mean......as the residential #1 Makoto hater, I think that's fair.....that I'd start to zone out during my least fav dungeon....and then continue zoning out during my 2nd least fav dungeon askfdjaflk)

But during the first two dungeon arcs, I liked how.....bad the PT were at thieving, I liked how green they were. It was obviously a learning process. I also like some of the fight choreo (Saito did the best hand to hand one in the series in P4U's Yu vs Sho....which I actually animated....spoiler.....no I have no released that...my dumbass wants to tempt fate and see if I can redo it in color even tho it took me 4 days non stop to get that animated in just black and white.....but I am a fool so alas 8U). I mean it's not mind blowing, but it was simple and decently thought out, which is more than I feel like we usually get (esp with the anime shows....or at least P4/5's).

But I think what draws me in is....it's lack of P5 style. P5 style has them being still oh so cool despite being new at everything. It's tired me out. P5's how identity is style. It's....style over substance (gonna rile some feathers with that....Cvit(?) vid title). But P5 is overtly stylish, to the point it......weighs on me. Drags me down. Tires me out. I don't think they're cool, I'm bored with it. Ironically, Reg manga lacks that, which......def would make someone (and me usually) give it much of a passing glance. It's very basic I guess. But.....consider me, being in P5 hell, surrounded by all it's nausea inducing stylishness, sees a small break in the hellish hurricane to see.......normalcy. It kinda makes me connect better with the kids (kinda, it's still P5).

They feel like normal kids, trying to do their thing (sometimes trying to look/act cool and failing), and.....it's just the absolute antitheses to P5's brand......and I think that's why I like it. KLFJDSAFLKJA;

Anyway, who knows, maybe when I catch up on Reg in english and re-read MM with the official translation I might change my mind about a few things, or at least how I rank them. But for post length sake, and my sanity sake, I think I should keep the anime and mangas out of the "Which entry do you hate least" post......because I should just make another post where I go into both mangas as well as compare and contrast the anime! :D I'm just delaying some insanity for later haha....

Wait.........I just remember Day Breakers exists......and I liked it....still do....don't have much issue with it. Well shit, that is probably the one entry I hate the least. fklsdjfalkjdfkla;jsL;FJljsfdlskafaj *sobs* nO NO, I committed, and that's just a sad loophole. fdklsajflakfj *sobs* I still need to the game thing, cause let's be honest, the games are where it counts.

So right now my ranking for manga/anime is:

Daybreakers>Reg manga> MM>>>>>>>>>>TV Show Anime and it's OVAs (may the burn in the hell fire from which they spawned)

Oh, one last thing, forgot to put it in but I dunno where to put it now. I like how the manga tones down the pervyness some:

I mean Ryu is a fellow monkey. u_u .......but it's for the best I don't have to see his ape expression. ;w; (iirc the pyramid scene was a lot shorter/faster, but that's by the grace of reading and books rather than animation I suppose).

[ramble-writes]

So here comes another valentine's gift for the glorious @franks-mixtape ! If y'all remember the 2 Franks that are brothers and werewolves that I wrote some time ago, this is going from that again because I thought about it randomly and felt like I then needed more of it sooooooo yeah! If you DON’T know, the gist is being that his Frank and my Frank are half brothers. Father being a werewolf to both which resulted in his Frank being a halfling, while mine is whole werewolf due to different mothers. 19 years apart until both came to Ormond where they met up and figured out they’re brothers. So there ya go!

Warning(s): probs just standard cussing, buuuut that’s it lol

Don’t forget to like, reblog, and follow if ya wanna see more! (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

-

A Wednesday. Worst day for the 14th to fall on. Especially since it’s in the middle of the school week. Frank James Morrison sat there in the last class for the day, English. The teacher decided to focus on how Valentine’s day started from some dude who got executed in Rome or some shit. He wasn’t paying attention, finding it useless to learn about. Emerald green eyes lazily gazed around the room till they landed on his brother’s russet hair.

Frank Fenik Morrison was there a few seats to James’s left, amber eyes were trailing over the printed paper the teacher had passed out previously. As much as he was into literature, if he wanted to learn history on a subject of a man who was killed for trying to teach his religion to the Romans, he would’ve in his history class.

Fenik really was just idly taking his pencil to scribble a random design on a blank spot on the paper, the teacher’s voice seeming muffled in the background. Darkening some lines on the drawing, he felt a nudge in his mind, like someone nudging him with their arm. He lifted his eyes up and flickered to the side where gemstone eyes met and locked.

‘Dude. This shit is boring. Can’t we just.. skip out on this?”

‘I wish. But we can’t or shit’ll go down. Plus, they’ll know it’s us since we have the same exact name, minus the middle name.’

This made the raven-haired Frank sigh out loudly. He slightly scrunched his face up at hearing his other half chuckle both from a distance (thanks to his heightened hearing) and in his mind. Since figuring out the two had the same father, name, preference in tattoos, music, and other things, it made for the two getting along pretty easily. It resulted in a sort of bond to form. Since their father was a werewolf, it resulted in an animal like bond to form, that ran deeper than a standard sibling bond. Emotions, feelings, and thoughts were connected. It resulted in a mind link to have basically silent conversations.

‘Jesus fuckin Christ we have thirty minutes left of this bullshit. Feels like it’s taking foreverrrr!’

Fenik had to cover his mouth to stifle the laugh that bubbled up. Hearing him complain like a child made for lightening the boring mood. The internal complaining actually helped pass the time till the bell rang. Kids instantly got up with grabbing backpacks and shoulder bags alike and hurried for the door as the teacher called out that their homework from 2 days ago is due by Friday. Most likely, no one paid attention.

The two Morrisons waited at the bottom of the steps of Fairview, waiting on the other three of their odd pack in the snow. It didn’t take long for Julie, Susie, and Joey to come out. Julie adjusted her coat she has on as she hurried a bit down the stairs, being mindful of the snow-covered steps as she went over to the russet-haired Frank and planted her lips to his. This drew a very pleased growl from him as he kissed her back. Thankfully, those dreaded words to the holiday weren’t uttered.

“A’ight sluts! What’s the plan for today for shit to fuck up?” James asked, the name making Joey chuckle. “I’m lookin’ for chaos to burn down the grossness I feel from all this love shit.”

“I second that. There’s this jackass that’s been trying to feel Susie up in history when it comes to turning in work,” Julie huffed out. This made Joey look at the pinkett with concern on his face.

“And ya haven’t said anything?” Susie looked away at the tallest’s question which made him sigh. “Sus, ya gotta tell us when this kind of stuff happens..”

Her head only lowered before she pulled her hood up to hide her face. Joey had let out a sigh and draped an arm over her shoulders before looking at the other three. Amber, emerald, and brown eyes met and they all shared the same thought.

‘Trash the fucker’s place’

-

To cut things short, finding where the guy lives wasn’t hard. They did the standard: Egging the house, toilet paper thrown and draped over trees and parts of the house. But the brothers took it an extra step by managing to get up on the house with wadded up toilet paper, where they then shoved it down the chimney to block it up since smoke was coming out of it. And they were out as quickly as they came with a job well done. 

They all split to head to their homes, hearing distant sirens meaning the house called the fire department which was sweet music to them. Of course, the russet-haired teen snuck over to Julie’s place after her father passed out for their... usual time together. Raven, as another nickname to call James rather than by his middle name like Fenik, was laying there in bed till about midnight he heard his name being called through that mind link.

‘Thought you were busy bangin’ up Jules.’

‘Shut up and get your ass out here.’

‘Fiiine. But I still wanna hear about your adventures in the pussy caaaave!’

James snickered when he bet the other was rolling his eyes outside, but he got out of bed to get dressed in his usual letterman with an extra layer underneath since it is midnight and it’s still winter. Out the window he went and onto the ground below where his brother is standing and waiting.

“Alright, whatcha want butt sniffer?”

“Don’t. Anyway, thought it be nice to hang out since school has been riding out asses with work to get us “prepared for college” which I could care less for.”

The raven-haired teen nodded. “Yeah. It’s a lot of bullshit. Ffffuck I hate being a senior.”

“I feel that,” Fenik agreed with a nod of his head. As usual, the two headed into the forest since it is their escape, and the only way that the wolves within the both of them can be let out. It’s a nice reliever since a lot of the times going out was never an option and it would make them feel cramped.

Usually, they don’t speak when out in the forest unless they do their usual practice. But for now, it was nothing but a run. Fenik in full wolf with James keeping up at an easy stride. Surprisingly, there was no clouds which let for the moon to shine bright in the sky and reflect off the snow, practically lighting their path. 

They didn’t know how long they’ve been running, but they did come to a stopping point when the two Morrisons came across a big tree. It was there they stopped and flopped down at the base at the big roots, James leaning on Fenik and a hand running through the rust-colored fur in slow strokes.

“Ya know... I’m a bit jealous you can shift and I can’t..”

“Seriously? I dunno. I’d be pretty happy with just the heightened senses n shit.”

This made for emerald eyes to look at the wolf, which in return, amber looked back at the halfling. Concern was felt on both sides. Concern for how one felt left out of things, and concern for how the other didn’t care if shifting was a thing or not. James scooted himself a bit close to be able to wrap an arm around the back of the head of the large wolf and pressed his forehead to his, letting silence overtake the quiet between he two of them.

Something happened since one moment the raven-haired teen was small in comparison to the wolf with clothes on, to suddenly not and... the same size. It was like his body just relaxed for him to suddenly shift, but the realization got for the two to jump up onto their paws and look at each other.

James now was suddenly the same height, same build. Black fur made him look like a shadow o the white snow. Vibrant green eyes stood out like unknown lights in the darkest parts of the forest. The two were quiet, before sounds of excitement left them and they became nothing but giant mounds of fur and limbs with barks and yaps leaving them.

What felt like hours of nothing but romping around in the snow, they both flopped down panting with tongues hanging out of open mouths and tails swishing in the snow. Two sets of gemstone eyes gazed up at the night sky, the moon nothing but a white orb to the side of their vision.

“I hate valentine’s, but this? This is the greatest fuckin’ gift nature let me have haha!” James boofed out, letting his paws stretch out in front of him. It felt like all his limbs were sore from being contained, and finally was allowed to be out.

“Oh trust me. Being this way is heavenly. Feels like what freedom from the system should be. And now that you can shift, we can do this a hell of a lot more. And no one can stop the hell we’ll raise.” Fenik let out a chuff, a canine version of a chuckle. The black pelted one chuffed as well before rolling onto his side and laying close to the rusted pelt one and pressed close.

They were content like that, black mixing with rust, emerald and amber. It took only a nudge from Fenik to say that it’s best they get going. James got up and shook the snow from his fur, waiting for his brother to get up. Both standing, they trotted off to the edge of the forest where they shifted back to their human selves.

“This weekend. Can... we go running again? And... maybe teach me some wolf stuff since now I can shift?”

“Hell yeah man! I’ll be waiting ‘round seven. Sound good?”

James nodded with a slight smile before it fell. There was hesitation, but Fenik could feel it and brought his brother close for a hug. He melted into it and hugged the other back. They stood like that for some beats before breaking it off and headed to their homes with goodbyes through the link. Days and nights for now on were gonna be different, but they were gonna be hella enjoyable and that feeling of being left out vanished. Everything felt right, just as it should be. 

[togashicomeback]

Unpopular HxH opinions

Alright so, here’s some of my “unpopular” hxh opinions. I’m not meaning to offend anyone, these are opinions and I am perfectly accepting of other points of view, by stating them I am not impliying in any way that your are wrong.

Also, please keep in mind I’ve only read the manga (once), never seen the anime, which from my understanding further develops certains scenes. I also went in after a month of lurking in the fandom and had certain expectiations, which may have spoiled my experience at times.

In the manga, white backgrounds and closeups are fine (in certain parts). When characters are talking in transitional scenes, it’s fine. You’re reading quick dialogue, a more complex panel would be wasted with the short reading time. Although I believe Togashi does go overboard at certain points, he (almost) always uses different shots/backgrounds for the more important parts, the one that the eye will spend more times on. There’s exceptions, but readers should understand that panels of characters saying stuff like “yeah/let’s go/ok/etc.” should be simple, it’d be a waste of drawing time otherwise.

Pariston is kinda... boring, at least in the manga. The fandom hypes him up a lot, and I do like the idea of him, but when it comes to the actualy story, to me he only shines when interacting with Ging.

Also, Anime Pariston is prettier that Manga Pariston.

Greed Island arc is good. It’s fun, it has many moments that cement Gon’s lack of self worth and his relationship with Killua, and it serves as a nice break between two dark arcs, thus making the CAA more impactful. 

Regarding the fandom, I’ve had the impression people will just claim that the darkest arc is the best? I could be totally off here, but sometimes it feels like fans are just repeating popular ideas, without thinking why the arc is good.

My favourite arc is Greed Island, but I do recognize that the CAA is masterfully written and it has some of the best scenes and characters of the manga (like Shaiapouf). It is better than GI, but I still prefer the other: for once I like the “happier” one.

Shaiapouf is an amazing character and reducing him to “annoying and crazy” is just ridiculus. You can find him that, but it has to be recognized that his characterization is outstanding.

Shaiapouf is more interesting than Pitou, whose character development wasn’t executed as well, at least according to me. While with Shaiapouf we get a few, subtle hints to his development, Pitou just says an extablishing phrase (”What the king wants is what matters”) and then, once Meruem asks them to heal Komugi, they have that key moment. But that’s kind of it? I don’t know, perhaps I’m just biased because I hate cat people and loved Pokkle. Super open to debate about this one!

Youpi is interesting, although less than Shaiapouf. His changing ideas about honor and conflict were cool.

Chrollo and the Phantom Troupe are wasted potential, not bad characters. Ok, listen, I know that I diss them a lot, but. In the York Shin Arc there was this whole setting up about group dynamics and how living in a disfunctional society impacts people: the Spider is composed of people who’ve found their purpose in the group. It has the potentiality to be interesting, how they value the idea of the spider more than the memeber. And yet, this is ultimatly left undeveloped, which is a pity.

Of course, when I talk about development I am referring to a characterization that doesn’t justify their actions, but simply makes them more well rounded characters.

Chrollo was literally set up to be a man going through an identy crisis, but in the end he’s just a pretentious, edgy asshole.

Why is Shalnark popular? He has little to no appereances in the manga. I get that he’s pretty, but still... Does the anime develop him more?

I love the idea of Killua/Gon, but if the manga were to focus on their friendship I’d be fine with it too. To be honest, sometimes I feel like the reason certain interactions come off as romantic is due to their codependency - however, I guess it could be both.

Wether they end up as friends or “lovers” (using the term loosely ‘cause they’re kids), first they need theraphy. Mito, do something.

On the topic of shipping... I like Leorio/Kurapika, but the manga doesn’t really seem to be going for it? Only when they met after the Election Arc there seemed to be some implications. I dunno, I guess we’ll see. Togashi come back please.

Why do people portray Zeno as the sane one of the family? He allowed Silva to abuse all of his children. He is a bad person. You can like him! But don’t claim he’s sane, he just doesn’t like bullshit.

Kalluto supremacy. (may not be controverial, but needs to be stated)

And last, but not least, my most controversial opinion.

Let me start off by saying that I love the idea of Alluka and Nanika. I love what they represent and I’m truly happy that so many people feel represented by these characters. However, I couldn’t help to find Alluka a bit... dull, at least in the manga. She’re mostly there, looks cute, does nearly nothing... that’s it. She has a lot of potential and I hope she’ll get more development in the future. From my understanding, the anime fleshes her out a bit more? Also, let me reiterate that I like her character, just think there’s room for improvement (in the way she appears in the plot). There were some great scenes, my favourite being when Alluka “defended” Nanika: I really liked the methaphor and would love for more stuff like that.

I’m also concerned by her dynamic with Killua. I am afraid that having to take care of someone else will only fuel Killua’s codependent tendencies. I hope this relationship will actually be an healing experience for him.

...that’s it, I think! If you made it this far... wow. Thank you! Would love to hear your opinions, I’m always open to debate.

[verycleverboy]

And now, Joe...

It is January 20, 2021. Joseph Robinette Biden Jr. was sworn in earlier today as the 46th President of the United States.

Let's start with something that apparently isn't obvious to everybody: In Joe Biden, the better man won, but he isn't the man a lot of people on the left wanted. He's the man we settled for, because we were intimately familiar with the alternative. That we settled for him in historic numbers shouldn't bury that fact, but since that's what seems to be happening, allow me a few short paragraphs to put a pin in this moment.

The cable news people are already treating Trump's single term as an aberration, a take which Mitch McConnell seems to be happy to encourage. But don't fool yourselves. Donald John Trump wasn't a hiccup in the system. He was the accidental recipient of a 50 year trend in American politics, a 30 year trend in the American media landscape, and (more directly) 12 years of the shadow of the Tea Party movement. All of this on top of the two centuries of America's baked-in racism, sometimes in the background, other times front and center. Trump foregrounded white grievance and rode it to the highest office in the country. Never forget.

Biden's inaugural address was a pitch to our better angels, which is an upgrade from Trump's borderline apocalyptic message of "Do what I say and nobody gets hurt." But what he was selling was bipartisanship and unity. And at this point in history, we have to ask a hard question: who's buying? Because it shrugs off the past four years of the Republican party (and, by extension, the Obama era obstructions) as a spicy summer fling. You had your fun, he seems to be saying, but now it’s time to come home and go back to work.

And as a reminder, that’s two weeks after a sitting president encouraged an insurrection against the American system because it told him “no”.

The sad truth about the immediate future is that we're still saddled with a split-level conception of reality, a situation we should be used to by now. The hard right of the spectrum views Biden and Harris as radical, cheat-to-win leftists who are going to take away everything (and, I dunno, maybe drink babies' blood while they're doing it) and ring in a new dark age of Communism. The hard leftists, on the other hand, couldn’t unsee a practicing Roman Catholic who goes to mass every Sunday, making them a little twitchy about the future of Roe v Wade, and an ex-district attorney, which, through the lens of last summer's heated protests, translated for some of them into "ex-cop".

One extreme sees Pelosi and Schumer as a two-headed dose of bile-dripping evil. The other sees a couple of old people clucking their tongues at the front page of the newspaper while they're clipping coupons.

The tl;dr version: The right sees an existential threat. The left sees the old status quo. And seriously, the status quo was a little too cozy with itself, a little complacent in the idea that what was the current situation would continue unchanged for the foreseeable future. A little too coffee klatschy for comfort.

In other words, the greatest threat to progressive goals was brunch. So when things started taking a turn, brunch took a beating.

Two things worked in the favor of sanity. First, Trump never stopped being Trump, which means he never "grew into the job". He was always defiantly confrontational, propagating (when not actively living in) a fantasyland of lies and half-truths, and frequently even seeming to lack what some people consider the basic human qualities that the office requires. It didn’t help that he was probably the first US president who desperately needed a Civics 101 class to figure out what his job was...and it was brutally obvious that he'd skip that class as often as he could.  But the main thing was he was too theatrical in his execution, drawing too much attention to himself and the cheap stunts he was trying to pull.

Jeb Bush would’ve gotten away with it. I guess that’s what I’m driving at here. The next Jeb probably will.

The other thing is that having a US president coming this close to being a Bond villain made those of us outside of politics actually pay attention to what was going on, in many cases for the first time. We manned the barricades and we proved it was worth our time, because again, we were forced to consider the alternative.

Trump is over. Trumpism isn't going anywhere, at least not in the short term. Today was a good day for America, but it's up to us to make sure we get more of them. We’ll probably never get the best of all worlds, but with a little vigilance, we can leave the next generation a better world than the one we inherited. 

So keep your eyes open. Stay informed. Stay engaged. And always remember how to build a barricade.

[firebirdsdaughter]

Random Writing Tidbit-ish Well…

… I said I was thinking about them.

@fluttering-by I dunno if you’re still thinking about this from like, last week (or was it the week before? my memory is a sieve sometimes), but it got stuck in my head.

You know how they killed the horizontal line and it was the worst thing ever? I suffer every day. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fuwa slammed the door behind him, stomping across the floor to dump his bag onto the armchair, the primary piece of furniture he still felt like he could consider his after Jin had laid claim to the sofa (when he wasn’t off patrolling the rooftops, jumping in and out of windows as he pleased, much to the annoyance of Fuwa’s neighbours), with a little more force than necessary, making it jump slightly. A brief glance in the direction of the couch, in a small break from scowling at the floor, revealed that the younger HumaGear wasn’t there now, at least—the only one present was his father, looking up from a book. Fuwa didn’t remember having many books—at least, not any Horobi would be interested in—but the fact that the HumaGear was doing something besides brooding about the apartment blankly was… Reassuring. He wasn’t in a particular mood to be relieved about anything, but the discovery still generated a soft ball of warmth in his chest, interfering with his attempts to stay angry. But the day had just been so…

“What is it?” Horobi’s voice sounded completely calm, but Vulcan prided himself on being able to detect the mild curiosity in the tone.

Fuwa groaned. “It’s… Politics.” He spat, giving the chair a sharp push with his foot in displeasure that still came out rougher than he intended, making it skid a small way across the floor. “People… Are…” He looked back up at the HumaGear and hesitated.

Horobi was gazing at him with that innocent, simple interest that was so indescribably beautiful it always made him lose his train of thought for a moment. At the same time, though… It fuelled his temper—especially since he had been upset on the HumaGear’s behalf in the first place.

He was pretty sure he knew why Yotagaki had it out for Horobi so badly—the man had had a permanently displeased look on his face ever since Horobi had both fully restored his son and been repaired himself (Yaiba had been sour for days after the dressing down the HumaGear father had given her, even while heavily damaged, for everything she had done wrong in trying to restart Jin’s AI). He scowled every time Horobi came up, and made pointed comments, generally about how he was a ‘dangerous influence’—which even Fuwa, who Horobi had nearly killed, could easily see was bullshit. Even if the two hadn’t moved into his apartment uninvited, or the… Other developments… But, especially after all the time he’d spent with the HumaGear, all it took was watching him for a bit to know that Horobi was very different than before—completely free of the Ark’s influence and with even just a bit of proper support, he was eons away from the picture Yotagaki loved to paint. Without a doubt, what the bastard actually meant was that Horobi was a threat to his coveted control over Jin, who had refused to speak to the ZAIA executive since reviving. 

Now the man was demanding that there be regulations placed on Horobi’s movements, because the HumaGear had been ‘too quiet,’ because there were rumours of ‘good HumaGear’ looking up to him—even to the point of insisting he be tracked permanently, clearly with the intention of making Horobi as vulnerable as possible. It had been all Vulcan could do to not punch the guy—no, he hadn’t even managed that, it had been Yaiba who came to the rescue, grabbing his arm before he could swing and backing him up that distrust and aggression had been what made things go wrong the first time.

He looked back up at Horobi, still watching him with that soft, naive curiosity, and a myriad of emotions swirled in his chest. Horobi was definitely in a better place than he had been back then, but… He’d seen the HumaGear turn on himself before, and recently the episodes he still had were always in that vein; tipping him back over the edge could result in… There was a sharp pain in his chest before he could even finish the thought. He remembered clearly the scene he’d come upon that night, something that had unexpectedly burned into his memory—though the results had turned out to be… More than pleasant, in the end, the experience had been… Terrifying. To the point that he was still reluctant to leave Horobi alone in public spaces.

The HumaGear frowned slightly, head tilting, and Vulcan quickly looked away, embarrassed. Pushing the chair with his foot again, knocking it further out of place, he groaned loudly, stalking to the other end of the sofa, acutely aware of Horobi’s gaze following him. “Just…” He struggled to find the words as he began to pace in short, quick steps, raking a hand through his hair, the other stuffing into his pocket. How much could he say? Yotagaki was already a tense subject for the HumaGear, who would always immediately look around for Jin whenever the man was so much as mentioned, like he was terrified the human was coming to take his son again. Fuwa didn’t want to cause him undue distress, that was the whole point—but lying to Horobi was equally dangerous. He was already on his sixth pass in front of the sofa by the time he continued, “Just… Yotagaki… ZAIA, being… Augh!” With a growl, he furiously dragged both hands through his hair, mussing it up completely in his outburst, “Being… Stupid!” He aimed another kick at the chair as he turned and missed—with another snarl, he whirled back around to continue pacing.

On his eighth pass in front of the sofa, fingers closed around his wrist and there was a soft tug on his arm stopping him short, followed by another, stronger one. The next thing he knew, he was being pulled down into Horobi’s lap—he squirmed instinctively, resisting out of residual anger—but the HumaGear’s arm curled around his waist, the other hand drifting up to cup his face, and he turned his head to nuzzle into the palm on an even stronger instinct. Horobi pulled him closer, pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw, the upper hand moving up to comb slowly through his hair, fingertips trailing over his scalp. It was impossible to stay tense like that, especially when Horobi continued brushing lips up and down the side of his neck in slow, lingering kisses. The HumaGear’s long fingers carefully worked their way through his curls, hitting all the sensitive spots on his head—it wasn’t long before Horobi reached the particularly tender place right behind his ear, drawing a soft moan from his lips, making Vulcan sag against him.

“You know I enjoy watching your emotions…” The HumaGear’s voice was warm murmur right next to his ear, a musical, mesmerising sound that made his eyes flutter closed, his hand drifting up to hang onto Horobi’s sleeve, “… But you’re going to break your furniture.” Vulcan grumbled discontentedly—only it came out a bit more like a whimper. Twisting around, he snuggled against the HumaGear’s chest, pulling his legs up on the sofa and tucking his head into the crook of Horobi’s neck while the HumaGear continued stroking his hair, finding out the same spot on his head again. “I know, I know…”

Fuwa pressed closer, letting his eyes close completely. There was still a slight tug in his chest in moments like this, when he remembered what Horobi had originally been built for, because of how comforting it was. There was a small part of him that felt like a child again, curled up safe in the HumaGear’s lap, arms wrapped around him, a hand smoothing his hair—but the stronger, more dominant feelings were very different. With a little shifting, he leaned forward, nuzzling past the Horobi’s collar to press his lips to the HumaGear’s throat, unable to resist a small smile at the soft gasp he heard above him in response, the sound and the way Horobi’s arms tightened around him spurring him to continue. Keeping one hand holding securely to the HumaGear’s sleeve, he let the other drift up to lay against Horobi’s face, fingers brushing across his cheek, felt the HumaGear tilt into his touch, sending a wave of warmth through him.

Slowly, his hand crawled up, fingers brushing Horobi’s hair—until the tips connected with the HumaGear’s new earpiece, and he felt Horobi stiffen. Fuwa’s eyes snapped open, lifting his head slightly, “Sorry,” He whispered quickly, hand stopping, “Did that hurt? Do you want me to-”

“N… No.” The word was shaky, but firm, and the HumaGear even tilted his head into the touch slightly, closing his eyes. “… Don’t stop.”

Fuwa swallowed, hesitating for a moment just to be sure, but Horobi still didn’t pull away. So, very slowly, he traced his fingers along the metal rim of the earpiece, feeling the HumaGear shudder in response—but it felt different than the first one. Encouraged, he continued, exploring further, fingers moving across the area that used to be open mechanics and cracked artificial skin. Horobi’s mimic breathing caught, speeding up, and he made a soft noise that sounded wonderfully like a moan, fingers weaving deeper into Vulcan’s hair, pressing again to the sensitive spot on his head, making him sigh deeply as well.

They stayed that way for a long time, or maybe not so long. It was impossible to think about time when he was tucked in the HumaGear’s lap, one of the most comfortable places in the world, those amazing fingers tangled in his hair, gently massaging his scalp while his hands did the same on Horobi’s head. At some point, however, the HumaGear felt relaxed enough, curling around him like they were moulding together, and he didn’t feel like he could wait any longer.

“… Yotagaki wants to track you.” As he’d feared, Horobi went still, fingers freezing in his hair, and he quickly reopened his eyes, trying to sit up more and failing completely because of the tangle they had become. “He’s not going to! He’s not… He’s not going to.” He gave the HumaGear’s arm a squeeze, trying to be reassuring. “Yaiba-”

“It’s…” Horobi’s voice was unexpectedly steady, cutting him off with a firmness that was both reassuring but also slightly concerning because it sounded a bit like he did when he zoned out, “It’s… Okay.”

Fuwa frowned, giving the HumaGear’s arm another, even tighter squeeze, “No, it’s not.” He muttered, the words edged with a growl, “He’s…” For a moment, he almost got lost in the anger again, and pulled closer to Horobi to fight it off, “He’s a bastard.”

The HumaGear was silent for a long time. “I…” With a little shifting, Horobi repositioned so that they could see each other’s faces again, his hand in Vulcan’s hair drifting back down to his cheek. The vulnerability in the HumaGear’s expression felt like a stitch in his chest, but the hand on his face set a finger to his lips before he could say anything, “I don’t want to talk about him.” The finger disappeared, but was quickly replaced by Horobi’s lips in a determined, intense kiss, the hand dropping down from his face to trail along his chest. In an effort to keep his balance, Fuwa hooked an arm around the HumaGear’s neck, relishing how good Horobi’s touch felt even through the fabric of his shirt—and then there were buttons being pulled open, the magnificent fingers slipping in to brush his skin.

Vulcan gasped loudly, breaking the kiss, glancing down at the hand half inside his shirt then back up at the HumaGear questioningly. “Horobi…?”

Horobi’s head tilted forward, pressing his forehead to Vulcan’s. “I don’t want to talk about him.” He repeated, even more firmly, “I… I want…” The HumaGear’s hand moved slightly, tracing a tiny pattern over what he could reach of Fuwa’s abdomen, “I want you right now.”

Vulcan stared at him for a moment, searching his gaze for any uncertainty, panic, or glassiness. Even if Horobi was being point blank about it… After that night, he always wanted to check. The HumaGear’s expression, however, was completely clear and quite calm, eyes fixed on Fuwa’s face. Vulcan took a deep breath—after all, he would have been lying if he claimed he wasn’t feeling the same way. “… My room?”

Horobi hesitated for a moment, looking away shyly, and Fuwa almost backtracked to try and give him an out, but—“… Our room?”

Vulcan couldn’t keep himself from grinning. “Yeah.” He pulled himself up to give the HumaGear another quick peck on the lips, “Our room.” Just saying the words made a large ball of warmth form in his chest, made everything feel different.

Horobi didn’t respond, instead moving his arms to wrap around Fuwa’s shoulders and tuck under his legs, then lifting him easily as he stood up from the sofa. Vulcan pulled closer to the HumaGear’s chest, leaning his head back against Horobi’s shoulder and nuzzling lightly against his neck as the HumaGear started down the short hallway toward the bedroom—their room—closing his eyes again. Anger was already a faint memory that it was easy to put aside, especially as Horobi was already depositing on the bed, making a soft, surprised sound when Fuwa didn’t let go, pulling him down on to the mattress, too. It was impossible to hold onto it when they were tangled together, trying to manoeuvre to undress each other while also getting distracted by the urge to kiss again. Besides, it felt a little like poetic justice to be putting Yotagaki’s bullshit on hold to focus on making love, making Horobi feel good, especially when the HumaGear was showing even more signs of recovering.

They could worry more about ZAIA later. Much later.

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I have no idea what time of day this is happening… They probably have plenty of time before Jin gets home.

I think.