#but my new year's resolution is to commit and at least complete one of them as I have not done animation in almost a decade

[securi-tye-blankey]

So the sonas got a makeover! My fiance's sona, Arc is a Ryhnoc. He's witty, but doesn't show that too often as he's very shy. However, he will often attempt to make friends with others. Given the right environment he proves to be a very honest and reliable companion to those he considers close.

Though the Ryhnoc race isn't very fleshed out, I like to believe that the Rhynocs hold a lot of pride in the professions they choose. It's how I can justify they're jump from the Sorceress, to Grendor (canon?), to Ripto. Anyway, at some point a group of Rhynocs got sick of the cycle and branched off and advanced on their own. We have a little headcanon that the Rhynocs managed to advance themselves enough to travel to other planets and dimensions to find work after the events of "Year of the Dragon". But we haven't really figured out how Arc would meet Pockets yet. That's not too important at the moment.

-----

Pockets is a retcon of my Fenomenan sonas Blankey and Jack. Their personality is a mix of the two. Pockets can pass for your average social person, but in reality they really would prefer to keep the conversations short when talking with someone they're not familiar with. Brief interactions are their preference, but will hold the communication if it's absolutely required. To friends, this is the exact opposite. They love to communicate and Pockets is more likely to reach out. Funny noises and mild pranks are their bread and butter. They stand at 4'10".

The headcanon that I have on Fenomenans is that they are a species of slime folk who's culture is mainly based around the clown, mime, jester, joker, etc(yes, juggalos count) stereotypes. Be it the good, bad, and the ugly. (Utopias are hard to come up with) Depending on the culture, they will dress in the race(?) attire while either sticking to the traditional look or adding to it, depending on family groups.

-----

Fun past headcanon: The original headcanon was a bit more sad for the Fenomenans and the Norms. My idea for why there were no Fenomenans (at the time) was due to an event that caused Fenomenon to suffer distortions in space/time on parts of the planet. The "Nitro Fueled" track "Out of time" is the main inspiration. Originally, it was supposed to be wumpa fruit but, when out of time came out, I had changed it to be caused by a very bizarre purple fruit.~

Small Norm was affected by said event, leading the unintended creation of Big Norm and his hoarding/protecting of books. It's the final records of his species, and he's attempting to keep the culture alive through himself. However, through his interactions with Emperor Velo, he gained a strong distrust of outsiders and refuses to share what knowledge that is currently left. (I'll type a whole thing on it eventually.)

N. Fo was a bit of a foil to Small Norm in the story, being fascinated by the possibility of bettering the tech that caused the event to further advance other civilizations, but also doing it out of his own arrogance of wanting to achieve something to advance the galaxtic technologies and make a name for himself. (This is the brief outline btw)

I'm considering just making this it's own separate AU as I think the story I had was interesting, but a bit too much for the tone of the Crash Bandicoot series. I literally stopped with the comic because it was getting a bit too dark as I got too invested in these characters.

All this over rerolling in the shop to do story mode with Moe, just to discover the Norms... Just to never beat all of story mode with Moe.

[halothenthehorns]

Chapter 26: WE SAY GOOD-BYE, SORT OF

Let’s all just pause and take a moment to exult that I’m done with one set of books! This is an accomplishment I will never fail to revel in no matter how many more I have to go! It’s been a ride I wouldn’t trade a word for!

PJOPJOPJOPJO

Alex, who had started all of this by picking up the first book she remembered fondly, took it from Magnus casually with a hopeful smile as she read, "We Say Good-Bye, Sort Of. That's just like you Percy. Gods forbid you commit to anything."

"I commit to important things," he promised with a casual kiss on his girlfriend's temple.

Camp went late that summer. It lasted two more weeks, right up to the start of a new school year, and I have to admit they were the best two weeks of my life.

Alex couldn't help but read that with a tinge of confusion to her voice though. She had about as much clue to that idea of a solid length of time being happy as Percy had to a normal life. She liked it better when he was killing math teachers, at least that she could wrap her head around.

Of course, Annabeth would kill me if I said anything different, 

"For just a moment I thought you were done holding people hostage at knife point Annabeth," Thalia said with, wagging a 'for shame' finger at her. "Let the poor boy go this instant!"

“I’m relieved, can’t let her go getting soft now that she’s in love,” Jason snorted.

"A lesser person would hold you to saying that as some kind of blackmail Thals," Annabeth chuckled.

but there was a lot of other great stuff going on too. Grover had taken over the satyr seekers and was sending them out across the world to find unclaimed half-bloods.

Jason felt a giddy sense of pride that his reaction all the way back at the beginning of this hearing how unorganized they were had been given its own resolution. Gods he wanted to shake Grover's hand and meet him so bad to see what his chart looked like covering all of this.

 So far, the gods had kept their promise.

"For all of two weeks," Will nodded seriously. "Yeah, we were shocked too."

 New demigods were popping up all over the place—not just in America, but in a lot of other countries as well.

"We can hardly keep up," Grover admitted one afternoon as we were taking a break at the canoe lake. "We're going to need a bigger travel budget, and I could use a hundred more satyrs."

Alex resisted the urge to joke about an orgy with great restraint. Grover was a real person to Percy, not just an abstract joke.

"Yeah, but the satyrs you have are working super hard," I said. "I think they're scared of you."

Grover blushed. "That's silly. I'm not scary."

"You're a lord of the Wild, dude. The chosen one of Pan. A member of the Council of—"

"Stop it!" Grover protested. "You're as bad as Juniper. I think she wants me to run for president next."

"And I'd vote for his hindquarters!" Nico snorted. "He'd do wonders for environmental issues."

"Given you and Thalia are the only one's here old enough to vote, I guess we'd just help put up campaign signs," Percy chuckled.

He chewed on a tin can as we stared across the pond at the line of new cabins under construction. The U-shape would soon be a complete rectangle, and the demigods had really taken to the new task with gusto. 

Nico had some undead builders working on the Hades cabin. Even though he was still the only kid in it, it was going to look pretty cool: solid obsidian walls with a skull over the door and torches that burned with green fire twenty-four hours a day. Next to that were the cabins of Iris, Nemesis, Hecate, and several others I didn't recognize. They kept adding new ones to the blueprints every day. It was going so well, Annabeth and Chiron were talking about adding an entirely new wing of cabins just so they could have enough room.

Jason felt like getting up to high five Chiron. Of course Percy had been right, change was happening!

The Hermes cabin was a lot less crowded now, because most of the unclaimed kids had received signs from their godly parents. 

"What a concept, all the kids having a bed and a whole foot of space for themselves," Nico said dryly.

"I hope you're not expecting a thank you card," Percy rolled his eyes.

It happened almost every night, and every night more demigods straggled over the property line with the satyr guides, usually with some nasty monsters pursuing them, but almost all of them made it through.

'Almost all of them,' Magnus shook his head sadly he couldn't even feel real surprise and shock at how casually that was just put down.

"It's going to be a lot different next summer," I said. "Chiron's expecting we'll have twice as many campers."

"Yeah," Grover agreed, "but it'll be the same old place."

He sighed contentedly.

I watched as Tyson led a group of Cyclops builders. They were hoisting huge stones in place for the Hecate cabin, and I knew it was a delicate job. Each stone was engraved with magical writing, and if they dropped one, it would either explode or turn everyone within half a mile into a tree. I figured nobody but Grover would like that.

"Define, everyone?" Alex asked clinically, wondering if it would work on the cyclops, who were already nature spirit adjacents.

"Been there, done that, don't recommend," Thalia huffed.

"I'll be traveling a lot," Grover warned, "between protecting nature and finding half-bloods. I may not see you as much."

"Won't change anything," I said. "You're still my best friend."

He grinned. "Except for Annabeth."

"That's different."

"Yeah," he agreed. "It sure is."

"I miss him," Percy needlessly told her. "We need the three amigos out in the world!"

"I have a feeling you'll get your wish soon," Annabeth promised, but with the kind of smile that at least made him hope it would be fifty fifty on the fun/ death scale.

In the late afternoon, I was taking one last walk along the beach when a familiar voice said, "Good day for fishing."

My dad, Poseidon, was standing knee-deep in the surf, wearing his typical Bermuda shorts, beat-up cap, and a real subtle pink-and-green Tommy Bahama shirt. He had a deep-sea fishing rod in his hands, and when he cast it the line went way out—like halfway across Long Island Sound.

"Hey, Dad," I said. "What brings you here?"

He winked. "Never really got to talk in private on Olympus. I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me? You came to the rescue."

"Yes, and I got my palace destroyed in the process, 

Percy sighed loudly, he just knew that was going to come up again!

but you know—palaces can be rebuilt. I've gotten so many thank-you cards from the other gods. Even Ares wrote one, though I think Hera forced him to. It's rather gratifying. So, thank you. I suppose even the gods can learn new tricks."

"Yada yada old dogs," Magnus nodded.

"I'd leave at least half of them at the pound," Thalia smirked, causing Percy to laugh hard in agreement.

The Sound began to boil. At the end of my dad's line, a huge green sea serpent erupted from the water. It thrashed and fought, but Poseidon just sighed. Holding his fishing pole with one hand, he whipped out his knife and cut the line. The monster sank below the surface.

"Not eating size," he complained. "I have to release the little ones or the game wardens will be all over me."

"Little ones?"

"Game warden?" Jason felt he was asking the far more important question.

"I'll bet it's Grover," Will smirked.

He grinned. "You're doing well with those new cabins, by the way. I suppose this means I can claim all those other sons and daughters of mine and send you some siblings next summer."

"Damn," Alex snorted, "your dad is ice cold for that joke."

"He had to have that side of him somewhere, the ocean isn't all dolphins and maytai," Annaebth shrugged without surprise. Percy was to busy sitting in nervous silence to answer.

"Ha-ha."

Poseidon reeled in his empty line.

I shifted my feet. "Um, you were kidding, right?"

Poseidon gave me one of his inside-joke winks, and I still didn't know whether he was serious or not.

"He, wouldn't, have," but Jason sounded as confused and unsure as Percy did, and when this guy was on the same page as him, they were all in trouble.

Percy loved his little brother in Tyson, but a small, secret part of him had also kind of enjoyed the idea his mom was special. That it was Sally Jackson herself that had made Poseidon break his oath and sort of regret him being born until he proved otherwise. 

...besides, no way could other half-blood siblings have been out there all this time, still alive and awaiting to be discovered. They were supposed to be extra monsterlicious or something. Right?!

"I'll see you soon, Percy. And remember, know which fish are big enough to land, eh?"

With that he dissolved in the sea breeze, leaving a fishing pole lying in the sand.

"Did you keep it?" Alex asked casually.

"It was probably cursed," Percy said like that was an answer.

"And?" Alex spluttered in disappointment. Percy gave her a tragic look that he felt spoke all he needed to about enticing such ideas.

She turned grumpily away and muttered some more curses, though Percy wasn't quite sure if he meant the artifact kind or the cussing him out kind. He had a feeling Alex could manage both equally well at any rate.

That evening was the last night of camp—the bead ceremony. The Hephaestus cabin had designed the bead this year. It showed the Empire State Building, and etched in tiny Greek letters, spiraling around the image, were the names of all the heroes who had died defending Olympus. There were too many names, but I was proud to wear the bead. I put it on my camp necklace—four beads now. I felt like an old-timer. I thought about the first campfire I'd ever attended, back when I was twelve, and how I'd felt so at home.

That at least hadn't changed.

It was one of those things Percy hoped never did. His love of the color blue, how much he loved going fast on his pets, how much he looked forward coming to camp every year. He expected his feelings for Annabeth to change and reform, he accepted he'd keep feeling like a freak in his own head around all these different people who saw him as something special, but it felt good to fall back on simple things too.

"Never forget this summer!" Chiron told us. He had healed remarkably well, but he still trotted in front of the fire with a slight limp.

"Errr, Percy, he's always had that limp," Annabeth told him kindly.

"What? No he hasn't," Percy frowned. "I'd notice that."

"Yeah, sorry Perce," Will agreed. "It's not super obvious, but it's there. He got it from that Hercules incident."

Percy looked at them dumbfounded and was pretty sure they were pulling his leg...but he also still couldn't prove there wasn't some secret play they put on every year he'd never heard of so he was kind of at a loss.

 "We have discovered bravery and friendship and courage this summer. We have upheld the honor of the camp." He smiled at me, and everybody cheered. As I looked at the fire, I saw a little girl in a brown dress tending the flames. She winked at me with red glowing eyes. No one else seemed to notice her, but I realized maybe she preferred it that way.

"Yeah, I think Hestia is my spirit goddess," Magnus grinned. 

"We can throw you in the fire?" Alex asked with mild excitement.

"You're going to save the world by being handed a jar?" Percy asked blankly.

"Screw both of you," Magnus chuckled.

"And now," Chiron said, "early to bed! Remember, you must vacate your cabins by noon tomorrow unless you've made arrangements to stay the year with us. The cleaning harpies will eat any stragglers, and I'd hate to end the summer on a sour note!"

"Do we taste sour?" Nico asked, unimpressed.

"Don't say it like that," Will whined. "Chiron doesn't join in them eating us!"

"Well I'm so sorry I didn't get the correct interpretation out of that death threat," Nico rolled his eyes. He'd left this night, it had been the last thing he heard Chiron say. It had been a pretty memorable last stance.

The next morning, Annabeth and I stood at the top of Half-Blood Hill. We watched the buses and vans pull away, taking most of the campers back to the real world. A few old-timers would be staying behind, and a few of the newcomers, but I was heading back to Goode High School for my sophomore year—the first time in my life I'd ever done two years at the same school.

"In the sea of your life, that is a particularly depressing statement my friend," Jason said with a strange feeling of not being able to relate to Percy on that one. It was nice, he supposed, not to have a deep rooted parallel lodged in him about such a sad thing to hear, but somehow made Percy's life even more tragic than his own blank one for a moment.

"Yeah, yeah, news flash at ten, traffic or whatever," Percy shrugged, but it was still a good feeling. To smile and hope that they were just on winter break and he'd be able to actually continue this trend. The world wouldn't end because he'd accomplished something, it was all he'd wanted once upon a time.

"Good-bye," Rachel said to us as she shouldered her bag. She looked pretty nervous, but she was keeping a promise to her father and attending Clarion Academy in New Hampshire. It would be next summer before we got our Oracle back. 

"You'll do great." Annabeth hugged her. Funny, she seemed to get along fine with Rachel these days.

"Very, very strange, yes," Alex said in a posh, scholarly voice. "Next he'll sit around and ponder the existence of bread or something."

"Well documented history of something all human civilizations create," Annabeth helpfully said to his blank look.

"Ah, thanks," he said.

Rachel bit her lip. "I hope you're right. I'm a little worried. What if somebody asks what's on the next math test and I start spouting a prophecy in the middle of geometry class? The Pythagorean theorem shall be problem two. . . . Gods, that would be embarrassing."

"I think that would make her the most popular girl there though," Thalia grinned. "Teachers would never understand how the kids keep cheating, she wouldn't charge anyone for free answers to the test, just works out for everyone really."

"Don't get me started on how our education system is trash," Annabeth said with a sharp look at the book like Rachel was in front of her to debate this with on whether that would be of any help.

Annabeth laughed, and to my relief, it made Rachel smile.

"Well," she said, "you two be good to each other." Go figure, but she looked at me like I was some kind of troublemaker.

"You can't say anything Percy, you called yourself a trouble maker first," Thalia grinned.

"It was shocking I tell you, I'd never been labeled as such before," Percy insisted wide eyed, causing them all to laugh lightly again.

 Before I could protest, Rachel wished us well and ran down the hill to catch her ride.

Annabeth, thank goodness, would be staying in New York. She'd gotten permission from her parents to attend a boarding school in the city so she could be close to Olympus and oversee the rebuilding efforts.

"Guess that living in Cali. thing didn't stick?" Magnus asked, one part nervous for her, one part hopeful she'd just finally decided where she wanted her home to be.

"Not so much," Annabeth agreed, but the sad smile didn't linger as she turned back to the book casually. She'd keep in contact with her dad as long as he wanted to. She'd even offer to say hi to her step mom if she wanted to stop and chat on the phone. She'd come around for holidays or birthdays even. It just wasn't a necessity to her. She finally had her question answered of her place in his life.

"And close to me?" I asked.

"Well, someone's got a big sense of his own importance." But she laced her fingers through mine. I remembered what she'd told me in New York, about building something permanent, and I thought—just maybe—we were off to a good start.

"Well the bones of your relationship are at least well set in good sediment," Nico tried to say that in a complimentary way, but Percy just got another 'over my head' look and Nico shrunk in his seat rather than admit he'd spent hours in a museum once looking up niche facts of where dinosaur fossils were usually discovered.

The guard dragon Peleus curled contentedly around the pine tree underneath the Golden Fleece and began to snore, blowing steam with every breath.

"You've been thinking about Rachel's prophecy?" I asked Annabeth.

She frowned. "How did you know?"

"Because I know you."

Annabeth gave a mock, tragic sigh. "Am I already that predictable?"

"I don't mind a little calm and steady see-thoroughness right now," Percy promised. He could see that feeling hadn't faded at all with time too. She hadn't stopped studying Jason with those intense gray eyes every time she was sure he wasn't looking. A lesser guy would have been jealous. Percy was secure enough to know better it wasn't that blonde hair and blue eyes holding her attention after quoting that prophecy.

She bumped me with her shoulder. "Okay, so I have. Seven half-bloods shall answer the call. I wonder who they'll be. We're going to have so many new faces next summer."

"Those poor suckers have no clue what they're in for," Magnus said with experience.

"I'm still trying to hold out hope it won't involve us," Percy groaned.

"Well then, don't give the jar to Magnus," Alex reminded with an impish grin.

Annabeth chuckled along quietly, her eyes still darting between Jason, her cousin, and Alex. To much of what Artimes had said made sense with her dreams.

"Yep," I agreed. "And all that stuff about the world falling in storm or fire."

"You don't get a choice about the world ending that time," Jason agreed sadly. "You pick your poison and you like it."

"Bet I can find a loophole where one of the poison's tastes like blue-raspberry at least," Percy offered half-heartedly.

She pursed her lips. "And foes at the Doors of Death.

"Which is a particularly strange line," Nico nodded. "The Doors of Death are always moving, they're set in no spot, in Tartarus! No half-bloods would survive down there to bare arms against each other long enough."

"Not a theory I'd like to start beta-testing," Annabeth reluctantly agreed, though it was a soothing feeling for a moment to have a niche expert on at least one line at minimum.

 I don't know, Percy, but I don't like it. I thought . . . well, maybe we'd get some peace for a change."

"What on earth gave you that strange thought?" Thalia asked her in concern.

"My recent visit to the delusional land of Olympus where everything was sunshine and rainbows by design," Annabeth sighed.

"Wouldn't be Camp Half-Blood if it was peaceful," I said.

"I guess you're right . . . Or maybe the prophecy won't happen for years."

"Could be a problem for another generation of demigods," I agreed. "Then we can kick back and enjoy."

She nodded, though she still seemed uneasy. I didn't blame her, but it was hard to feel too upset on a nice day, with her next to me, knowing that I wasn't really saying good-bye. We had lots of time.

"Race you to the road?" I said.

"You are so going to lose." She took off down Half-Blood Hill and I sprinted after her.

For once, I didn't look back. 

Alex smiled as she closed the book to finally indicate she was done, this one was done. It was a strange feeling of relief and accomplishment when it had nothing to do with her in particular, just one that always came with finishing a new story. Having someone else's life given a tangible place in her world was usually such a fleeting thing.

Percy jumped up and did a lap around the room, arms up in a delirious victory. He would have been shouting like a loon at the top of his lungs if he wasn't worried about drawing the cranky Titan back.

The others couldn't blame him in the slightest, letting him work off his energy as they waited for Jason to stretch and offer, "don't worry, I can wait one more day to deal with the next stretch of my mess. We can all hit bed for the night."

"Thank you," Annabeth said politely, though she and Thalia exchanged almost disappointed looks. They almost didn't want that. They'd known everything of their past, but there was a hunger in them to get a look at the other side of a gods face and see just what Jason had gotten up to. 

Alex, Will, and Nico were already walking off however, talking about death auras and color theory in a disturbing crisscross conversation, and Percy was starting to slow his frantic run and rubbing his stomach, so they weren't going to argue the point tonight and let it go to take a breath at minimum.

Magnus lingered on the couch where he'd been sitting by Alex, head tipped back and staring at the ceiling with a forlorn expression.

Annabeth sunk down uneasily beside him and asked, "thinking about Hearth?"

He nodded, an uncomfortable position for his neck for sure at the awkward angle as he didn't look around. "I feel like such trash, he's my friend, and here Percy just went and made sure the world was safe for all of his, and I waved mine goodby on the word a Titan wouldn't just chuck him off the planet by accident."

"Percy isn't perfect," Annabeth corrected with a fond smile. "I know you know I once jumped on the back of a manticore, and he beat himself up over it too."

Magnus finally turned to face her, waving his hand around in the water to show how much that comparison didn't work.

"I know," she agreed. "Just, I know you're going to beat yourself up, but try to leave some skin unbruised too. If Hearth left of his own accord, I can't see him blaming you."

Magnus sighed and nodded in agreement. He wanted to believe that, at any rate.

Annabeth watched, seeing him now studying the empty seat with a faraway look in his eyes she knew all to well, the lost expression of not knowing what to do about a situation wasn't just for his friend.

"You like her," Annabeth said astutely, tucking her legs underneath her and studying him, "I could tell that after being here half a day. Have you said anything to Alex?"

Magnus bit his lip and wasn't sure how to say it.

"Is it because you're only attracted to her, half the time?" She kept fishing.

"No, no," Magnus quickly corrected. "I, find her just as intriguing on her he days. I mean, I've never been attracted to a guy before, but it's not, I mean, I like Alex, no matter what gender she or he is."

"So what's the problem?" Annabeth repeated, pure sympathy in her tone.

He clasped his hands and tapped his fingers against his chin, there was no nice way to say it. "Not sure what's going to happen when we get back. I'm still, I'm not sure if you're camp, well, up there-"

His cousin's eyes filled with regret, she leaned forward in her seat, feet spilling back onto the floor to support her weight as she automatically went in to hug him, before she hesitated and leaned right back. He smiled at her in relief and forced himself to relax, not even realizing he'd tensed up until she'd sat back in her seat, but still leaning on the edge.

"You're homeless." She said it as a statement, not a question. He didn't bother to deny it. What would be the point when she'd find out the second they got out of here? Her face flooded with the one thing that didn't send him running away though. Understanding. "Magnus, I am so sorry about that, if I'd known-"

"How could you," he brushed off any responsibility on her part. "As bad as things apparently are between your dad, if he even knows, you've had your own troubles going on-"

"I asked about you though," Annabeth insisted, she was twisting her hands up in her lap and he smiled to imagine her Yankees cap there. "When he told me about Aunt Natalie, that first summer I'd seen him in so long, I cried all night. He said he tried to find you but the system had no record of you, and my step-mom was just in the kitchen the whole time making her kids lunch like nothing was wrong, well, it didn't set a good precedent for that summer. I just thought, I don't know, you were living with Uncle Randolph, safe, I was still fighting with them so much-"

"I don't blame you," he insisted to her guilt ridden face. 

"I should have looked for you," she insisted too. "You could have been at camp with us all along."

"I don't know about that," he frowned and looked up at the ceiling again, then reluctantly, the door. "That's why I'm, well it doesn't help I'm a tongue tied idiot around her, but I don't know what's going to happen when we get back. The last thing I should be worried about is a crush when, well I have no clue about my parentage and," he trailed off with his face burning red and his own hands gripping painfully tight to each other.

Annabeth bumped their knees together as she leaned forward without being forceful about it, her tone dead serious. "Chiron will not turn you four away. You'll have somewhere safe to be Magnus." Then she looked over her shoulder, and back to him with a promising smile. "I can tell you really have feelings for Alex, and you shouldn't wait on something like that."

He was blushing again even as he answered, "it's not like it's just me. Alex is, so confident, about everything! I still think she's just been messing with me! If she did like me, I think she'd say something about it, she's so bold." He was smiling by the end, he could hear to his own ears how gently he spoke of her and couldn't even find the blush to be embarrassed about it anymore, even as Annabeth's smile increased.

She still spoke candidly, but there was a hint of worry for the first time. "Maybe, well, she has feelings for somebody else up there right now."

Magnus's heart plummeted, he hadn't thought of that.

"Maybe there's, other things going on in her circumstances," Annabeth relentlessly went on, "but Magnus, you'll regret it if you don't at least ask. Trust me."

He did trust her. He didn't envy the two living through the end of the world before finding peace in each other. He didn't want total destruction to get up the courage to say something to Alex and wondered what other obstacles between near constant death by monster and kidnapping's might circumvent them giving each other a chance. 

Magnus knew the moment Percy must have walked back in the room by watching her face light up, shifting around in her seat as if her first reaction were to go to him. She stopped herself and smiled back at him.

He nodded to be left alone,  so Annabeth just gave him a promising smile as she stretched and stood up, going over to Percy and putting her hand in his like it was the most natural thing in the world as they discussed what they wanted for dinner with Thalia.

His mind was so preoccupied trying to figure out what exactly he was going to say to Alex on the way to her door, he had no clue how long he was standing in front of it only to see it was open. Wrapping his knuckles sharply on it anyways and very cautiously easing his head around, he called out for her with no answer. 

It was as bland as everybody else's, if he hadn't subconsciously noted which one she'd come out of yesterday he'd never have guessed who's it could be, but there was also something so uniquely Alex about it he was sure he wasn't wrong. The smell of wet clay lingered in the air, there was a sewing kit resting beside the pillow, and a plate of Hershey's Kisses on top of the fridge, all unwrapped and arranged in a nonlinear way. 

His first impulse was to swipe them into his mouth and book it, but this was Alex's room, and he'd never stolen from someone he wasn't pretty convinced didn't deserve it, so he instead opened up the door below.

Instead of food, what he found was a bowl. A beautiful work of pottery with intricate, almost 3D looking designs all along the side of a caterpillar weaving itself into a cocoon and coming out, only for its wings to beat for all of one image and begin withering in the very next to turn to dust, a telling story all the way until he spun it back around to start. 

The kind of thing he would have scoffed and been disgusted at the price of, only someone living the lap of luxury could afford in a window. His hands felt grubby holding it.

He swiftly set it on her bed before the worst could happen and bumped into the fridge door, closing it to hide the evidence he'd found such a thing while the chocolate all moved around on the plate.

Then his mind seized in a panic, wanting to put it back before she found he'd saw it, and he had to grab something else out to prove he hadn't of course! But what- his eyes darted to the chocolate, and he frantically slammed and yanked the door too quickly, the universe glitched as it delivered so fast, but a bag of Kisses fell onto his shoe. He ripped the bag open and hastily shoved one in as he kicked the door back shut, feeling the strange crinkling sensation on his tongue and realizing he'd forgotten to unwrap it- 

"Magnus?" 

He choked, his hands fumbled, and for some reason his brain screamed at him to hide the evidence. The rich chocolate fell to the floor, scattering to every corner as the half-unwrapped one sat on his tongue as he whirled around to see her dark brown and amber eyes were glittering at him from across the room as she sauntered over. She stopped right in front of him, eyeing his lips clinically.

Magnus swallowed and knew he should open his mouth, say something, like why he was invading Alex's privacy and something else very important, he was sure he'd come in here to say something but really couldn't remember right now as Alex leaned in.

Alex planted a hand firmly on his shoulder and kissed him.

It was not gentle, but neither was the way Magnus's knees literally gave out on him and he fell back against the wall, his hands had pulled Alex's shirt with him, so that Alex was fully pressed into him and her lips were still a tantalizing breath apart.

She braced her other hand against the wall right by his head, he felt her shift her weight and his eyes snapped open as he began to apologize and let go only to see her nose to nose with him and smiling, not leaning back an inch. "I'm homeless," he blurted out, and gods he was the most idiotic person on earth as he licked his lips. He was surprised he wasn't choking on that wrapper and probably dying and hallucinations all this.

"I guessed that, I am too," she nodded. Some of her hair had fallen out of the updo, curling back around her shoulders. They were so close, his golden strands were twining together with hers. "I'm a child of Loki."

Judging by her reserved tone, how she was still shifting her weight around, he probably should have had some revelation to that. Even he'd heard of that god. "The god of trickery? Thor's brother?" He was running his tongue over his lip still where they tingled and had never wanted someone to move away less. Maybe he had a chocolate allergy he'd never known of.

She gave him a joyless smile, the nails on his shoulder digging in just a bit, for all the world like she was still fixing to lean back but had yet to do so. "How those Greek kids speak of children of Hades, as outcasts, untrustworthy, that's how our kind will see me Magnus."

"You're not seeing anyone else are you?" He blurted, again. He wasn't touching her anywhere but where his fingers were still holding onto the edge of her odd shirt, the material crinkled like she’d wrapped herself in foil, just the tips of his fingers.

Her smile was very sad as she leaned in and kissed him again, fully capturing his lips. The world might have actually ended by the time she leaned back again, his protection had possibly evaporated into her he was left breathing so shallowly like all the oxygen had been deprived from him. "No," she finally answered in the gentlest voice Magnus had yet heard from her. Her eyes were closed as she stayed right where she was. "Give me time to tell you about Adrian." Her breath caught on the name. Then she opened her eyes, and finally pushed off him and took a step back.

There was chocolate smeared across her lips now and he found himself swallowing none left in his mouth.

"Okay," he promised, thinking Percy would have to come in here and pry him off this wall before he figured out how to move again. "I, um, you're gorgeous," he finally, stupidly, remembered what he'd wanted to come in here and tell her, and the compliment seemed very underwhelming now.

She laughed, that same crooked smile playing across her lips he didn't think he'd ever want to look away from. "And you're an adorable goof."

"I can work with that," he nodded so much he may or  may not have broken his neck.

***

Percy finally held her tight that night.

“All coming back to you?” She couldn’t even put a tease in her voice as she lovingly curled into his chest without hesitation and his arms just circled her tighter.

There was comfortable silence for a while. But they both knew. It was a pause of their earlier fight, and they were both testing the waters to see who would break it first.

Percy did, cutting right to the heart of it. He’d seen that look on her face and known what it was. “I got lost, and it wasn’t your fault.”

She said nothing, her nails digging tight into his back. He could feel the hitch in her voice as she fought back a sob.

“The day you can tell a god or goddess or Titan what to do with me is the day you get crowned Queen of Olympus, and Zeus is doing a shit job too, so, I actually like your odds better,” he concluded with the contemplative simpleness she adored about him so much. He had a very black and white view of the world, one she didn’t share but admired.

“I think what’s killing me is, that Artemis had to help,” she admitted. She could only admit this to him, since she was being honest here. 

He nodded, because he understood that too. “I’m sure your mom would say good counsel isn’t unwise?” He tried and failed to offer, knowing the answer. “Your mom might never have liked my help, but she can’t claim to have never needed it. She has demigods to do her bidding too.”

“Her counsel, perhaps, but I, I don’t know Percy. I hate the idea, of not knowing what they have planned for you. Of what they’ll ask you to do before this is all over.”

“What they’ll ask us to do,” Percy reminded, she could hear the grin of his voice from the comfort of his beating heart in her ear. “Oceanus might be an idiot, but he made it pretty clear he didn’t pull all of them in here by mistake. Now, you are a part of it, and we’ll make the right call.”

“I hope you’re right,” she murmured. Her mind was on Jason, and her cousin and Alex. Her mind was on those books, and how no god’s gift came without a price. Her mind was on Artemis still, and what she’d ask of them too when they got out of here.

And that would only be the beginning.

PJOPJOPJO

I don’t want to promise when I’ll start the next set of books. I want to get into a new fandom I’ve never explored before and really get invested without fretting in the back of my mind about writing. I want to say I’ll start posting the first chapter around the end of December with a possible first bonus chapter early that month, but if I wait a bit into New Year’s don't be alarmed either. My heart is SET on finishing these, I just don’t want to force it when I’m still playing around with a few ideas.

I will give the minor spoiler and promise I’m kicking around some new characters to bring in, but I would have to take some out too, I won’t go over my limit of eight. 

Tell me which you’d prefer? I’m angling to bring in Leo and Piper or Reyna and Frank, both have merits, but I know you all have your own ideas.

[late-to-the-party-81]

One of the guys

AN: Yet another ask that's been a long time in the answering. My new year's resolution is to be quicker with these things! Hope you like some baffled Bucky, Em.

Unbeta'd ramblings

Masterlist

Relationship: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: Approx 700

CW: None - it's Fluff

“So, if you really want to compare the Mark 3 and the Mark 4, you gotta look at the injectors, because more efficient fuel transference means more horsepower…”

Your friend Rory was chatting to Bucky about his favourite subject. Cars. Bucky was trying not to let his eyes glaze over.

“Do you think we ought to rescue him?” You leant over, and stage-whispered into Kate’s ear. The dark-haired archer covered her giggle with her hand, but both of you caught Bucky’s slight side glance toward where you were both sitting, enjoying your cocktails. 

You’d decided to hold a cook-out for your birthday so there was a mix of all of your old friends, and all of the new friends you’d made through Bucky.

Growing up you’d had more male friends than female, a cabal of honorary brothers, so you’d always known that when you finally settled down your boys would have to at least partially haze your chosen partner, and then once accepted he would be absorbed into their group, whether he wanted to be or not.

‘Love me, love my bros.’

When you’d first introduced them to Bucky they’d been sceptical. You couldn’t blame them. Firstly, he was actually the only boyfriend you’d made ‘run the gauntlet’ so they knew you were serious. Secondly, it was James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. A man born in 1917, held hostage, tortured and brainwashed into committing heinous crimes for decades, before breaking free, becoming a fugitive, and then, finally being deprogrammed and pardoned. There was a lot to unpack there.

However, it seemed that he’d passed whatever test they’d put him through, because as soon as they’d arrived today, Rory, Jerome, Lee and the others stumbling out of an SUV, they’d practically kidnapped Bucky away from you and the rest of the Avengers.

And bless your guys, it was sweet. They wanted to include Bucky in all of their conversations about cars, computers, hockey and football. He could join in, obviously. He wasn’t completely clueless about those topics, but having grown up in the Great Depression, those sorts of things hadn’t been the focus of his youth. A different time, a different place.

“I saw a flying car once.”

“Bro! Really?” Rory stopped his rambling at Bucky’s statement and you felt the smile creep over your lips.

“Yeah, the 1944 World Expo. Howard Stark was showing off the car of the future. It was shiny and red. Oh I wanted a car like that, so bad, even if the prototype had a few bugs.  Still pissed when I found out that neither Howard or Tony had been able to make it a reality.”

“So this Expo was full of, like, futuristic shit?”

You watched them over your sunglasses, the boys all leaning in now, hanging on Bucky’s every word.

“Well, for 1944 it was definitely futuristic. But if you really want to talk futuristic, you gotta know about some of the tech they have in Wakanda.”

For emphasis, Bucky straightened out his left arm, wiggling his fingers and your friend’s mouths all dropped open as they watched the plates shift and heard the servos whir.

“You gotta tell us about Wakanda, man.” Jerome pushed himself slightly forward. “I can’t believe you’re tight with the royal family. Is Princess Shuri as hot in real life?”

Uh-oh. You winced internally. Bucky just raised an eyebrow, before speaking again.

“You know how you guys feel about Angel-face over there? About how if I’d disrespected her you’d all try to take me apart? Well that’s how I feel about Shuri. So you wanna ask me another question?”

Jerome had the good grace to look embarrassed and suddenly find a burning interest in his shoes. There was an awkward silence for a moment, before Lee leant forward.

“They’ve got some kind of Mag-lev trains haven’t they? Faster than the Japanese ones?”

You let out the breath you’d hadn’t even realised you’d been holding, as Bucky’s mouth broke into a broad grin. 

“Anyone got a pen and paper. I’m gonna need to do some visual aids for you chumps.”

They all broke out into peels of laughter and you turned back to Kate.

“Scratch that. I think he’s gonna be just fine.”

Taglist: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @sidepartskinnyjeans @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @ohsymphony @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @seitmai @poppunksnowwhite

[aiguan]

Mafia Soukoku Headcanon: They make New Year Resolutions together but never do them (usually).

Dazai: Hmmm... let's see... 1) die, 2) have crabs at my grave 3) commit shinju with a pretty lady- Chuuya: Who am I to you then? Dazai: I am not committing suicide with you. Chuuya: Why? Dazai, with a serious face: I don't want you to die. Chuuya, blushing: Well-uh... I- Dazai: You need to deliver crab to my grave every day- Chuuya: *punches Dazai in the face*

~

Bonus:

The wind blew gently, Chuuya's hair fluttering along with it. On the little hill was a graveyard. That suited his partner. Maybe as a ghost, he would annoy his neighbouring dead bodies, and that would pass the time for him. But in some way, Dazai's grave seemed to be separated from the other ones. The name on his stone was clean. Never lined with moss.

"At least you completed your resolutions for this year..." Chuuys nodded at the grave in front of him, pouring a rather expensive bottle of sake onto the soil over his partner's probably decaying body. Hopefully, that alcoholic wouldn't suffer too much from alcohol withdrawal.

Chuuya opened a can of tinned crab, the brand Dazai always ate without cooking. Chuuya placed the can in front of the gravestone without any sort of utensils. That mackerel can eat like a savage for all he cares.

"Well...uh... dig in!" A pair of lips touched the headstone and parted. Red hair danced in the wind. "Bye."

The trashcan near the graveyard was full of empty cans, Chuuya batted an eye at them and smiled.

Chuuya managed to stick to his resolutions too: to feed Dazai crab at his grave.

[holocene-sims]

simblr new years resolutions 2024!

thank you @stargazer-sims so much for tagging me!! ❤️✨🌟

not sure who has done this one yet but i'll tag 💌 @seyvia @simmersofia @mangosimoothie @minty-plumbob @queeniecook @dandylion240 @mmmatchasims @thebramblewood @aheathen-conceivably @nectar-cellar @igglemouse & anyone who sees this and wants to do it!

honestly, i have never made a new years resolution in my life, so this is a fun exercise to try out for once!

what's your resolution for your simblr?

this is VERYYYYY ambitious but i want to fully complete the core "everything the stars promised" and move on to doing side content and MOST IMPORTANTLY the more loosey goosey fun epilogue :)

april 15th of this year will mark the second anniversary of the story! i've done so much and yet at the same time, so little in the grand scheme of the plot i have in mind. i randomly checked today to see how many pages on my blog the story takes up and we're at 31 pages! so, uh, about 15 pages a year - not sure if that's good progress or not but oh well! we are getting close to the extra exciting parts of the story, and i would love to finish it all up this year, you know? finish on a nice round even anniversary number and with a bunch of plot point bangers lolol

but we'll see! it's possible, maybe, since i'm graduating college this semester and will have more free time for a while, at least i as figure out the work situation and probably even while working whenever i do get a job since nightly homework will no longer exist LMAO, but even if it's not possible, i am definitely promising myself to work harder on the story! i really do love this thing despite it all and i'm proud of it, and i want to see how much i can keep improving it so that the ending is truly the best part <3

what do you want from the sims franchise?

a sale on kits lmfaoooo!!! (which will never happen) i have exactly 5 dollars left over from an old gift card someone gave me for ea app when it was still origin. it's exactly enough for a kit except that sales tax adds on 7 cents and the gift card leftovers don't cover that.

yeahhhh...i'm neither charging 7 cents for sales tax nor 5 bucks for a second kit to my credit card. no, ma'am. i want that shit for FREE

any other new years resolutions?

don't become incredibly depressed by the shock of leaving the school system after almost 23 years of life and the horrors of figuring out the whole...life and career...thing

lol this resolution will be broken

so, how about an achievable one? read more books and write more actual prose, whether for my sims story or for something else. i've been so burnt out from academia that it's all stopped being fun. like even my sims story has been such a drag to create because i just have zero desire to write, to work on the outline, or find inspiration.

and that really sucks. writing and reading have been a huge part of my life for so long and they mean a lot to me, but right now they do feel exhausting. i'm tired of looking at a word document and wanting to bash my head into the keyboard because it reminds me of writing project proposals and boring shit instead of good fiction.

but i'm hoping the freedom from academia will spark joy in my literary hobbies again, and i'm going to try and bring back my love for them myself :) not sure how but aside from finding a way to work on the sims story more, i'm thinking maybe i'll commit to trying out more short-form writing prompts.

[leafbatraccoon]

monday's child legacy challenge

judging by the influx of addams on the gallery lately, by now i'm sure ~everyone~ has seen the new WEDNESDAY series.. i loved seeing all the creations, be it households, builds or cc - but what i was inspired to do was create my first game challenge; it's not particularly inspiring and i'm unsure if it's doable at all, i suspect i'm mostly putting it on proverbial paper to direct this nursery rhyme somewhere concrete, since it insists on lingering in my mind

i know in the ocean of challenges there is a days-of-the-week challenge already but i don't think their similiar, feel free to check for yourself

i considered making GEN 1:MONDAY > GEN2:MONDAY'S-CHILD/TUESDAY and so on, to extend it to one more generation, but prefered to keep it faithful to it's origins instead

s o   w i t h o u t   f u r t h e r   a d o....

⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️

RULES standart legacy rules apply; play in extreme if you'd like succession laws: gender - strict equality preferences and trait discovery: spin wheel for yes or no

NOTES this hasn't been play tested - yet ; so for now I sugest playing at the normal or long time span - change it with mccc if you'd like, the goal is to have fun, even tho it's a challenge i really have no concept of how doable it was designed to be since i usually drag out my sims lifes for pretty long

REQUIREMENTS Spa Day | Parenthood | Seasons | Island Living | Discover Uni | Snowy Escape | High School Years

SUGESTED MODS more traits in cas chingyu traits {100-traits, seasons-traits} & holiday tradition override {for said traits} kuttoe traits & PIZZA PREFERENCE :D {the pizza is just me missing favourite dishes} more odd jobs I use simrealist's SNB mod that overhauls the bill system but I've heard lot 51 also has some mods that bring more realism to services like plumbing & internet; I haven't tried them because I'm afraid they'd conflict I also love love love lumpinou's relationship and pregnancy overhaul, check it out !!

⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️

GEN 1 | MONDAY "monday's child is fair of face" self-assured + family-oriented {chingyu's pretty trait if you have this mod} aspiration: soulmate reach level 7 in any career max out cooking skill + complete 2 collections at some point be a part of coffe fanatic OR health food nut lifestyle

GEN 2 | TUESDAY "tuesday's child is full of grace" proper + loyal max out manners + conflict resolution values close nit lifestyle {adhere to and maintain} maintain a good rep {if you have Get Famous}

GEN 3 | WEDNESDAY "wednesday's child is full of woe" gloomy + loner or socially awkward aspirtation: inner peace self-employed artist

GEN 4 | THURSDAY "thurday's child has far to go" perfectionist + overachiever complete 5 aspirations {1 in childhood, 1 as a teen, 1 as YA - must relate to uni, 2 after that - one of which must be big happy family OR successful lineage}

GEN 5 | FRIDAY "friday's child is loving and giving" good + romantic voluteering {5x if playing short life span, otherwise once per season} max out empathy value / achieve compassionate trait have {at least} 2 children, maintain a positive relationship with them

GEN 6 | SATURDAY "saturday's child works hard for a living" ambitious + materialistic aspiration: fortune {pick one} workaholic lifestyle {adhere to and maintain} achieve 3+ stars in odd jobs

GEN 7 | SUNDAY "and the child born on the sabbath day is bonny and blithe, good and gay" cheerful + non-commital people person lifestyle {adhere to and maintain} max out charisma skill + achieve level 5 in 5 creative skills {3 if playing short lifespan}

[echoweaver]

New Year's Resolutions 2024

Thanks to @nocturnalazure for tagging me!

Also, anyone else I might've missed. 😢 I don't know if there's a way to distinguish being tagged on a post vs on a comment in tumblr, but it would be helpful when I know I was tagged a bit ago, but I don't remember by whom.

What's your resolution for your simblr?

OK, I guess I have some categories of goals.

Modding resolution: Release the Warriorcats Mod.

This mod is really close to done, but I'm in animation muck. I both hate seeing animations look bad AND I'm not an animator. For training interactions, I need multi-sim animations where one sim observes while the other acts, and when I tried to do this, I realized that I have a lot to learn before I can make this do what I want. I need one more good run in a geeky minset, and this thing will be read to at least release as beta.

This thing is bottlenecking other smaller mod ideas. I'm proud of it, and I want to finish it. But the turn of the year has been really bad for high-effort hobby energy.

For those who have sent me asks about this mod, I am going to say something that you should absolutely not apply any other modder, including me, for anything else. Bugging me about this (in a nice way!) is probably the best way to get it finished. Hearing from folks who use my pets mods makes my heart sing. Knowing that someone cares is the best source of positive energy I have.

It's a new year, and some very high-stress stuff in my personal life has improved. I know can do this in 2024.

In my points of low mood, I have wondered if there's even any point to finishing something this high-effort for a game this old. But, like Minecraft, TS3 never seems to die. 2022-3 was actually a modding renaissance. I have built some interest in TS4 at the end of this year, but it hasn't made me even a little bit interested in abandoning TS3. So I'm going to do my best to set that demotivating nonsense aside.

Gaming resolution: Finish the Samples.

I can't believe I actually wrote that, but it could happen in 2024. Generation 8 is starting in gameplay, and in a 10-generation legacy, this is the last "complete" generation.

I will never do another 10-generation anything. There are two many different and interesting

Blogging resolution: Catch the Wonderlands up to the present.

I stopped playing halfway through Gen 3. I originally started posting this challenge on tumblr during Gen 2 when I created this simblr some horrifying number of years ago. Gen 1 was all on Wordpress and is new to the simblr. I've been reluctant to play forward on the challenge until I can bring the simblr with it.

2. What do you want from the sims franchise?

Haha. That's a complicated question. I think I may always be a TS3 player at my core. I send retroactive apologies to every TS2 players I looked askance at ten+ years ago. With that in mind, I can't reasonably expect much of anything from EA on my core hobby.

My pie-in-the-sky dream would be a 64-bit update for TS3 on Windows. That's not completely impossible, but it doesn't look likely to happen.

I'm keeping an eye on Project Rene. EA has given a good sense that they learned from the player response to TS3 & 4, and 5 could be a good synthesis. OTOH, the PRIMARY ask I have from them is 100% offline play, and I don't have a lot of hope. Though EA made the commitment to offline play for TS4, they've been clawing it back by inches over the years, and they even quietly made it impossible to install fresly-downloaded TS3 store content on 1.67. I'm fighting hard to keep my TS3 game at 1.67 because I want to be able to play on airplanes and in places I simply cannot log in. I don't give a !@#$ whether EA can validate my license. They're making enough money. They can stuff it in their butts. So, with that said, I am just assuming that TS3 1.67 is going to be the core of my fandom for the forseeable future, but my mind isn't closed. If TS5 is otherwise awesome, I can branch out.

My biggest hope for the franchise is from the fandom -- that the TS3 modding renaissance will continue. We keep renewing this old game, and as it continues to be renewed, there continue to be amazing fun new ways to play it. Thank you folks so much.

3. Any other new year's resolution?

Getting my Hobbit fanedit accepted by the Fanedit Academy at fanedit.org.

Heh. So, I have a very long drama story about my fanediting hobby. I flamed off the fanedit.org community when I attempted to submit my first edit years ago (The Hobbit, which should surprise exactly nobody who has looked at fanedits). I was floored when, in 2023, I was contacted by the head of that site to apologize for that situation and ask me to resubmit. It appears that my treatment by the reviewers prompted him to clean house and build a more welcoming community. Wow.

So, now my very first edit is under review by the "Faneditors Academy," which is the primary way to reach new viewers and gain feedback in this hobby. The site leader is involved in my review, but one of the reviewers is one of guys who treated me badly the first time, and he's complex to work with -- there's an undercurrent of him trying to justify rejecting me without a review the first time. I am determined to see this review through to the end. I am very proud of this edit. Also, the feedback is definitely leading me to take it the next level.

But I'll be honest -- working through the criticism and revisions is one reason I haven't touched the Warriorcats mod in months. I need to clear my mind and my plate to really focus on addressing feedback, and the criticism level makes that draining.

[Sharing from personal life -- another reason my modding dropped off is that this winter my trans wife came out to my socially conservative parents. We are not disowned, but it's been complicated and emotionally draining. Lighthearted play with stream-of-consciousness commentary is about as deep as I've been able to go for months.]

[presidentkamala]

Ok 2022 wrap up. First the good:

* killed it at work and on schedule for a huge jump in salary in january 2023

* finally let go of the worst years of my life by *gasp* leaning in2 and committing to my present self???

*moved to a banging new apartment WITH kitchen island

*volunteered for midterm campaigns

*went to chicago, cincinnati, honolulu and st. louis

*READ like 80% more this year than last year (the bar was the like 2 books i picked at and didnt finish last year but still improvement)

*more consistent with skincare routine

*hit 50k in my one savings acct in accordance w financial goals

THE BAD:

*didnt learn a new language, instrument, to code, pottery, or anything. Was grinding at work and not much else

*health took a backseat: too much doordash no fitness plan or even much activity

*didnt make any new friends

*stagnated in other areas. No volunteering for causes i care abt or even at community garden. mUST CHANGE THIS IN 2023

*struggled to stay consistent with much of anything. Scatterbrained for most of the year

THE UGLY:

*lost all muscle tone due to nothing other than lack of care

*no motivation. No real direction. No real sense or vision of the future i want and am working towards. No effort in the places where it counted

*phone and screen addiction. BIG TIME. losing hrs to this that i should be using to get out there and meet ppl and actually improve my quality of life LOL.

*deep-seated suspicion that im not well-liked at work bore out late this year. Not super pleased since that's been my main focus. Probably connected to this other stuff.

*loss of basic intellectual curiosity. In complete survival mode for the first 8 months of the year. Self is almost unrecognizable in many ways.

THE RESOLUTIONS:

I've spent the month of december devoting myself to prepping for the big three resolutions that i feel will have the biggest impact on my immediate health and wellbeing. I did a recipe plan for every day of december and gave myself a zero doordash/restaurant rule but no other real restrictions on what recipes i make and that's gone super well in terms of re-integrating cooking regularly back into my life and even enjoying it! I think in february im going to start paying more attention to making sure im incorporating the plate method to ensure im getting the right proportion of protein veg and carbs into my diet but for now its all about finding recipes that taste good and that i can sustainably replicate etc. I've been doing a lot to make sure im brushing my teeth and doing my skincare routine at least every morning so im going to start bumping up my evening care in January as well. I also downloaded the none2run app to get me up to a 5k which at least lays out the calendar of what i need to do and im on week 2?? I think of the beginner exercises before starting the runs in earnest. I've deep cleaned my apartment and kitchen and have been regularly washing my clothes and doing the dishes instead of letting it all pile up. All of these changes in routine have been gradual over the last 5 weeks or so but its already paying dividends and i love the idea of prepping for resolutions and planning them out so i don't lose track as the year progresses:

*Journal at least once a week (minimum 52 entries by this time next year)

*Develop nourishing recipes you actually enjoy and can replicate. Limit restaurants to once a week (non-holiday) or 3 times a week (with holidays)

*complete none2run 5k.

*sign back up for barre classes at least once a week (non-travel)

*on work travel, complete youtube pilates vid at least twice a week

*this is the year to tackle skin texture and pores. Set up derm appt in January

*complete liftoff program for beginner weightlifting beginning in June.

*volunteer for minimum 2 hrs each week. For anything.

*volunteer for dems at least once this year.

*SEE A FUCKING PSYCHIATRIST

*take one extra-curricular class

*check in quarterly on goals

*take one international trip

2023: We are being specific and intentional!!!!!

[grahamstoney]

What is a Life Coach?

New Post has been published on https://grahamstoney.com/life-coaching/what-is-a-life-coach

What is a Life Coach?

The goal of a life coach is to help you to have a great life. This involves a sense of meaning, purpose and fulfilment, along with liberal doses of happiness and the ability to deal powerfully with things when they go wrong. As humans we get bored if we feel like we’re not moving forward, but the big question often is which direction to move in. To establish this we need to understand our core values, and set a continual stream of achievable goals based on those values. Setting goals gives us something to focus our efforts on, and achieving goals builds our sense of life satisfaction and self-esteem, and inspires us and the people around us on to further goals. It’s important that the goals we set are achievable, consistent with our values, and allow us to use and develop our personal strengths.

The coaches I know use a structured set of exercises sent to you via E-mail in order to guide the coaching process and ensure that you get the maximum value out of it. The exercises start by examining your sense of purpose and mission in life, your values and your big-picture life goals. They then expand into more specific areas that you’d like to work on, such as self-esteem, relationships and financial goals. As you complete each exercise, you discuss what you have discovered with your coach, who gives you feedback on the intermediate goals that you have set, and then send you the next exercise as you work towards your big-picture goals. The aim is to implement the ideas that you come up with in your life so that you get to achieve the goals that you have set for yourself.

A good coach acts as your impartial but supportive sounding board. You can bounce ideas of them, talk about your goals and why they are important to you, and about the process you want to put in place to achieve them. They’ll be supportive and straight with you about how you’re going and about any areas which you may have overlooked. They can help you identify problem areas, like instances where you’ve set goals which appear to be incongruent with your own values. Everything is structured around your personal values, rather than theirs, so that you get the most out of your life. Often in life we spend a lot of time and effort trying to live according to other people’s values, and this is a recipe for lack of fulfilment, despair, burnout and ultimately depression. I know from personal experience what that feels like, which is why a good coach doesn’t force their values down your throat. They get you to come up with your own values and then use them to support your goal setting and achievement so that you feel maximally fulfilled.

Having a coach to offer encouragement and accountability ensures that our good intentions actually get acted out so that we can have more powerful results in our lives. Back when I was coaching, one of my clients commented to me:

I was reading an article in the paper on the weekend. It was talking about how people make new years resolutions and then don’t follow through with them. One of the suggestions to staying on track was to not go it alone. I can now definitely see how feed back, support and motivation from an external source makes things a bit easier and also gives you someone to be accountable to. I’m also finding it good to sit down and actually think about what my values are to actually verbalise them and see them written.

The whole process is directed by what you want to get out of life, and you can proceed at whatever pace you like. You need to commit to spend an average of at least an hour a week working on the exercises. Of course as soon as you do this, something is bound to come up; the process is flexible, so if there are some weeks where you’re flat out dealing with immediate crises and can’t do the exercises, that’s OK. You may end up doing some work on why your life operates in crisis mode more of the time than you would like. To stay on track with your coaching, you need to put some time aside to do it, and this will invariably mean giving up something else, but the cost will be worth it. Being coached means making a serious commitment to your own personal growth and development. Your coach can guide you through the process, and making yourself accountable to me will help with your motivation, but ultimately the willingness to be coached needs to come from you. Your biggest breakthroughs will come in the areas where you currently have blind spots in your thinking, so there will be some adjustments to be made in the way you think. Change and growth can be difficult on your own, but the net gain will always outweigh the pain and you can expect to get a buzz out of the coaching process. When you are in touch with your personal strengths and using them to work towards goals that are set in accordance with your values, you can expect to have greater energy and motivation because you’re getting what you really want out of life.

Since most of the action happens via E-mail, you don’t need to be geographically close to your coach. I’m currently exploring other avenues in my own life, so I’m not taking on any coaching clients right now, but I know a network of coaches I can put you in touch with. So if you’re interested in taking your whole life to the next level, contact me.

[creature-comforts]

Personal Update! (idk if I wanna do these more or not)

Currently attempting to binge both Welcome to Nightvale and The Magnus Archives (WtNV while drawing, TMA on walks). I am particularly interested in eldritch/surrealist/cosmic horror media with queer themes, so if you have any recommendations send them my way! 

It’s 2023! The passage of time, the greatest horror of all!!!! For new years resolutions, I want to have at least one completed zine and one short story/screenplay by the end of the year. I have a lot of ideas bouncing around but terrible at committing to creative projects, so that’s what I’m working on this year.

For you guys I’ve recently finished rewatching The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals and Black Friday: The Musical (the latter didn’t like as much as the first, which I definitely recommend). Both are free to watch on Youtube on StarKid Productions official YT. I have continued intermittently relistening to BitB, whichissogoodyouguyspleasethefirstepisfree

[hiiragi7]

Hi there - Have been successfully fusing individual parts for years so I feel pretty comfortable talking about this and my experiences with it.

We've gotten our process with fusion pretty ironed out by now. Most of the time and work put in is in the preparation stage. We have our active parts mapped out pretty extensively, and if "new" ones pop up from dormancy we spend quite a bit of time getting to know them and how they fit into our life story and system functions and what memories they hold as well as how they interact or view other parts.

We then look at overlapping traits between parts and how similarities fit together, as well as any basic differences or conflicts that need to be addressed. We also talk about any concerns regarding fusion. At this stage we also often do blends (temporary fusions) so that parts can safely explore what it would be like to be fused without having to commit yet. Blends also help aid conflict resolution and point out any unaddressed issues.

We then make notes on the deeper roots of what keeps these parts seperated and work through that until they no longer have that barrier. For example, if two parts hold similar memories and emotions (ex. Anger from abuse), they may be seperated by specifics (such as the age it happened or the abusers involved) and the two parts may hold conflicting goals or beliefs despite similarities on the surface (ex. one part liking mom because they remember heavy abuse from dad and vice versa for the other part, so they struggle to understand the other). These two parts need to be able to at least understand the other in order to proceed.

After this, we do trauma processing with these parts and any others who might be involved with holding related memory fragments. Often we have already done quite a bit of work on it, so this late-stage trauma work focuses on resolving any residual emotions or trauma that was missed in the initial work. Sometimes we do most of the trauma work while the two are seperated and then complete it post-fusion because in some cases it is easier to finish up work on the memories when they are pieced together more fully, other times we complete trauma work entirely prior to fusion, it's case-by-case.

As for the fusion itself, both parts agree to it when they are ready and it is decided that the new fusion will be able to safely hold both individual parts' memories and emotions without risking re-splitting. If the new fusion would not be able to comfortably hold the memories, experiences, emotions, interests, and personality of both parts, then more work needs to be done and we go back a step.

If it is safe then we go ahead with fusing, which we utilize visualization techniques for. Personally we imagine it as a hug, and the two parts overlap each other until they become one fused part.

The final result of the fusion depends on a lot of factors for us, such as if it was between a fragment and a more developed part or two very active parts, sometimes there will be a new name and appearance and sometimes the fusion resembles one part more than the other, but both traits are still there.

In the days following the fusion, we also regularly check up on how they are doing and if things are going well. This is to make sure the fusion is stable and that no new issues or overlooked issues have come up. We've never really had any major issues following fusion, but if there were this would be where we give ourselves opportunities to work on it and see what went wrong.

I hope this helps - Feel free to ask if you have more questions on it, I'm happy to talk about it.

has anyone who's achieved fusion between two or more alters able to like respond with their experiences? like how the process worked, some challenges, ect

weve got 2 alters in our system whod be great to fuse. itd help us so much, theyre similar enough, both want to, ect

but its like

not exactly the clearest thing as to how that all works? were gonna talk to our psych about it and stuff, but any words of wisdom from the people whove done it would be great!

[discoblocks]

Yknow what I’m also getting kind of sick of people being like “actually the lore never died out and dsmp is actually active but just because it isn’t your faves on the server you haven’t been paying attention smile” like actually yes I have!! I watch foolish like every single day he streams, when Hannah and boomer log on I do my very best to check up on them and see how it’s going. Nearly every one of eryns streams on the server I have been there for at least part of it, and when Michaelmcchill logs on I am in that guys chat, and the only person who still streams dsmp often that I don’t regularly check up on is Ponk bc he’s usually live wildly outside my time zone. If someone is on the server, I know about it! And I’m very lucky to have a schedule that lets me keep track of that, not a lot of people do! But fundamentally their time on the server is very different from Tommy and Wilbur’s and Ranboo’s and Quackity’s and etc!!! And it certainly is nothing like how the server used to be, with just crowds of people live for most of the day, on the server, and lore practically every day. I have been paying attention, and the fact of the matter is, the content that people are talking about when they say they miss lore and talk about the lore drought isn’t the content that is currently being put out.

The people that are active on the server right now are lovely people and good streamers, and they deserve success, but they are all every single one of them lacking the same amount of time and emotional commitment that has been invested by fans and ccs over a full year towards the storylines being done by “bigger” streamers. I fully respect the new lore and content being produced and I’m very excited to see what will happen with it, but it’s very much in its beginning stages, and straight up is not in the same scale yet. It could! Later down the line if it becomes it’s own big storyline with the same level of character analysis and theories and canon-life-losing levels of drama, then I will one hundred percent be onboard with people saying it should be considered equal with the storylines from “their faves”. Like, egg lore, that certainly reached the same scale and it’s unfair to try and claim it’s not real important plot lore. But in regards to the lore currently being done by “smaller” streamers that are active, truthfully, right now it is not at that scale, and it honestly strikes me as so disrespectful to try and claim these two things are the same.

The whole reason why people are saying that there is a lore drought is because their faves aren’t doing lore and aren’t active on the server. They have invested months into this storyline, agonizing over fanworks and filling up the tags with character theories, so excuse them if perhaps they would like a little catharsis for all of that emotional investment.

Imagine for a moment a hypothetical murder mystery series that has been strung out over the span of a year but the killer still hasn’t been revealed. The identity of the killer is the light at the end of the tunnel, by finding the killer you come to the resolution of the story and finally have all the puzzle pieces to solve all the mysteries, but it hasn’t happened yet, so you are paying a lot of attention to see when it finally gets revealed. You are emotionally invested in seeing this story through, in seeing this murder solved. Now imagine another new murder mystery series starts coming out that is completely unrelated to the first except for it shares a few characters that were not key players in the first series. It might seem interesting! But it is still very much in the introductory and exposition part of the story, and is not tied to the first series plot wise. And at the same time, the original mystery series you were invested in seems to drop off the face of the earth. You hear rumours of more coming out soon but never definitive and never the killer reveal you have been waiting for. Are you really surprised when the second series doesn’t get the same attention as the first?

TL;DR: the reason people are sad about the lore drought even though there is still lore happening isn’t because they’re ignoring these smaller streamers, it’s because they’re still seeking emotional catharsis from the storylines that they originally joined the fandom for, and those storylines have disappeared, even if other streamers are introducing new ones

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

What if...? Part 6

Again, this one goes out to you beautiful enablers! You who comment, reblog and are along for this journey through AU land! I see you, I appreciate you and you make my day :D

So, uh, a quick question: Which do you, read readers, prefer; either one giant part 7 or more regular sized part 7 + a part 8... What’s your vote?

-

What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if…

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

“I want you to train me. Teach me how to fight.” Dulsissia blurts it out as she settles herself down next to where Davarax is sitting on the floor with his blaster meticulously laid out in pieces on a blanket in front of him to do maintenance on the different parts.

Davarax freezes for several seconds and then he cautiously puts the pieces he was holding down and he looks over at her. “I, uh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” Dulsissia frowns. He doesn’t think she can handle it?

“I’m sure we can ask Decco to train you.” Davarax offers.

“Bee-cause you don’t want to.” Dulsissia draws out the word, not entirely sure whether to be hurt or offended, but right now she’s leaning towards both.

Davarax lifts a placating hand, sighing. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I just… I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

Had it been any other man, Dulsissia would have gone on a rant by now, but she knows Davarax wouldn’t say no if he didn’t have a good reason. “Would you mind telling why not?”

His hand slowly sinks down again and he makes a couple of efforts at starting a sentence, but in the end; Davarax’ shoulders sag slightly with defeat. “It’s just… not.”

“Why not.” She insists. Fine, Dulsissia can ask Decco, but she will at least know why the most skilled fighter in the Covert refuses to train her. He’d even called her Mandokarla once. “You don’t think I’m Mandokarla any more?” 

When had she broken his faith in her? When she’d panicked over that storm trooper? Was that it? Mandalorians aren’t allowed to show fear?

“You are!” Davarax blurts out. “You definitely are. Mandokarla. You are.” He then sighs again and gestures faintly towards himself. “It’s me, okay? I’m the problem.”

“You?” She narrows her eyes suspiciously. How can he be the problem? He’s their best fighter.

“I’m too…” Davarax searches for the right word. “...invested.” He finishes, somewhat lamely, and his hand just drops to his lap.

Dulsissia snorts. “You’re training my son, your own kids, but you can’t train me?”

“You’re different.” Davarax mumbles, sounding awkward.

“Nonsense.” Dulsissia inches closer. “I want to learn and I want to learn from the best. Please? I’ll be a good girl and do everything the teacher says.”

Davarax makes an odd sound deep in his throat.

“I know you are busy and you’ve already helped me so much and it is incredibly selfish of me to put another burden on your shoulders,” Dulsissia confesses, feeling the taste of shame again, “but I trust you. And… I like spending time with you. No offense to Decco, she has been wonderful, but she’s not exactly… cheerful. Or especially fond of conversing. She threatened to glue my mouth shut yesterday and I honestly think she wasn’t joking.”

Davarax chuckles, sounding both resigned and fondly amused. “She wasn’t.” Then he hangs his helmet low for a moment or two before sighing yet again and looking over at Dulsissia. “Okay.”

Letting out a low squeal of delight, Dulsissia bumps her shoulder against his. “Thank you! You won’t regret this.”

Davarax makes a sound as if he’s not entirely convinced about that before he picks up the blaster pieces again and continues his work. “Tomorrow. Thirty minutes before I teach the kids.”

“Thirty minutes?” The man pushes the children far harder than that. “That’s it?”

“One, it’s your first lesson. We’ll be going over basics. Two,” Davarax’ t-visor turns to look at her, “I thought you were going to do what the teacher told you to do?”

Dulsissia puts on her sweetest smile and nods. “Thirty minutes. Before the kids. Yes, sir!”

Davarax sighs, how many times is that now in such a short while, and turns back to his blaster.

-

She meets up a little early, eager and wearing her finest skirt, ready to impress and become the best student Davarax has ever had. Dulsissia straightens her spine and gives him a bright smile when Davarax enters the training room.

He comes to a halt when he sees her, then clears his throat and continues to walk over to her. “You’re early. Good.”

Dulsissia tilts her head, still smiling. “Ready for training. As you can see.”

Davarax makes a non-committing hum.

She can’t keep it up any longer. Dulsissia reaches down, undoes the two buttons and lets her skirt fall to the floor to reveal the far more practical pants she’s wearing underneath. “Ha! Got you!”

He does the Davaraxian huff of a laugh and rewards her with a faint nod. “Funny. Very funny.”

Stepping out of the skirt before picking it up to fold it, Dulsissia rubs her successful prank in with a smug cackle. “I can’t believe you weren’t going to say anything. You’re so sweet.”

“I can’t believe that you don’t think I won’t get back at you for calling me out on it.” Davarax replies, crossing his arms and tilting his helmet in a challenging way.

Dulsissia grins, puts the folded skirt by the wall and trots over to stand in front of him without a hint of fear. “Whatever you got, my good Lord Davarax, I can take it.”

Davarax just looks down at her, breathes, and for some reason; Dulsissia’s heart does a flip.

Then the Mandalorian suddenly unfolds his arms, clears his throat and steps away to take up a position she’s seen the children start the day with.

“We’ll start with the basics. Just the basics. It’s going to be harder for you than the children because you’ve grown accustomed to your body in a way they haven’t had the time to yet, and you’re going to have to unlearn a bit of that plus replace some old reflexes with new ones.” Davarax says.

Dulsissia forces herself to focus and tries to copy the stance. “I’m ready to sweat. Show me.”

Davarax glances over at her, she can feel his gaze slide over her, then he nods.

Yeah, okay, Dulsissia is starting to understand why he’d been hesitant to agree to teach her. He’s an excellent teacher, explains things so well, but she’d failed to take into consideration how every single touch of his hands on her, despite the gloves, despite the layer of clothing, results in flares of heat, moments of complete distraction and a flush to her face that has nothing to do with the strain of the exercises.

She had complained about thirty minutes not being long enough, but after twenty five of them; Dulsissia resolutely sits down and lets out a loud, unladylike groan at the ceiling. Who could have known copying moves that Davarax makes seem easy would be this hard? And while Dulsissia had not considered herself to be out of shape, this has left her completely exhausted.

“Still five minutes left.” Davarax points out, standing next to her, sounding smug.

Dulsissia decides to wipe that smugness off his face. Fast as lightning, she flings herself over and grabs a hold of his lower leg with both of her hands, aiming to bring him down to her level, and she yanks with all of her might.

Nothing. It’s like trying to pull at an AT-AT. And Davarax just looks down at her.

Groaning, Dulsissia lets go and flops over to lie on her back. “It was worth a shot.”

Laughing, a low, warm sound, Davarax eases himself down to sit next to her. “It was cute.”

Cute? Dulsissia glares over at him. And before he realizes his mistake, she launches herself at him, climbs into his lap and shoves at his shoulders. Maybe she couldn’t topple him over on his feet, but surely she can knock him over like this?

No.

She’s not entirely sure how he does it, he moves too fast, he’s too strong, but suddenly she’s on her back on the floor and he’s hovering over her. His hands are pinning her wrists to the floor and a quick tug tells her she has absolutely no chance of getting loose. Dulsissia grins. “Also worth a shot.”

Davarax hums, deliberately not to touching her with anything but his grip on her wrists. “Be careful with your shots, Dulcy. You don’t want to end up like this with the enemy.”

Her face burns. She’s suddenly so very aware of him. “It doesn’t feel all that bad, to be honest.”

It feels like all of the oxygen in the room abruptly disappears, gravity gives up and the temperature sky-rockets. Neither of them move. The tension keeps growing and then…

Davarax looks over at the door and scrambles away from her half a second before the children come stomping into the room, chattering and eagerly anticipating today’s lesson.

Dulsissia closes her eyes and let out a long exhale, just as she hears;

“Mom…?”

-

It’s Din’s birthday. Dulsissia had overheard it by accident when Din had been talking to her son and he’d mentioned how he was counting down the years to when he would finally be allowed to put on the helmet. 

She’d asked when he was having his birthday celebration so she could get a present for her son to give him and felt no small amount of horror when Din said there wasn’t going to be one. His parents had said there was no point so he assumed that meant no celebration.

Well, he was wrong about that.

As Din is more comfortable there, she arranges the birthday celebration in her and Corin’s room and invites the rest of Davarax’ children, plus the man himself. It’s a small thing, compared to the parties she used to throw, but it is a huge deal to Din. He shies a bit away from being the centre of attention, but with Davarax and Corin both encouraging him; Din ends up actually enjoying it a little.

And it is all worth it when a red-faced and awkward Din gives Dulsissia by his own free will a quick hug at the end of the day.

Dulsissia then has to hide a smile when Paz ‘innocently’ mentions how he has his birthday exactly one standard week after Din’s while they are seated at the table and devouring the sweets she’s made. (She’s getting pretty good at this baking thing. The fighting? Less so, but she’s improving.)

Paz’ father has a big celebration for his day, but while Dulsissia mostly observes it from the outside, she can’t help but to notice how, while it is in his name, very little is focused on Paz himself. It’s mostly about his father, adult food and strong spirits. Not much for a twelve year old to enjoy.

So she throws him a party in her quarters with the other children and their teacher like she’d done for Din. And Dulsissia feels her heart break yet again when, at the end of the day, Paz hugs her so tight he almost squeezes the air out of her.

Standing next to her, Davarax sighs as he watches Paz leave with the other kids in tow. “I didn’t really celebrate my own birthday much so I never thought about theirs. I let them down.”

“From what I’ve seen,” Dulsissia replies with a bittersweet feeling, ���you are the only person in this place who hasn’t let them down.”

Davarax shakes his head. “Not entirely true, but thank you.”

She turns to face him, places her hand on the breastplate where she’d feel his heart if not for the armor. “You took them under your wings when everyone had given up on them. You didn’t just give them the abilities to survive that they are going to need, but your attention and kindness as well. You are those children’s entire world. And I don’t think they could have chosen a better man.”

Davarax reaches up and covers her hand with his. “Dulcy… Do you know what a kov’nyn is?”

She shakes her head. Her heart is going faster and faster.

“Find out.”

“How?”

Davarax does his trademark huff-laughter. “You’re a clever girl. You can do it.” He then lets go, says his goodbye to Corin, who sits on the bed and watches them with a far-too-knowing grin on his face, and gives a final bow to Dulsissia before leaving as well.

Flustered and a little breathless, Dulsissia walks over to clean up the last traces of the dinner.

“Mom.” Corin says.

“Mmh?” She replies, wondering if she can ask Decco what a kov’nyn is or maybe just try to find some sort of dictionary so she won’t have to trouble her all the time.

“Can we ask Din to stay here with us?”

Dulsissia gathers up the plates. “Baby, I don’t think Din’s parents would like that.” Unfortunately.

“He says they wouldn’t mind.” Corin replies. “Also, when you and Davarax become girlfriend and boyfriend, can I call him ‘dad’?”

Dulsissia straightens with a jolt and her face flares up so badly it hurts. “Go brush your teeth, baby.”

“But-”

“Go brush your teeth!”

-

The Tribe doesn’t have an abundance of datapads or old fashioned books. Most of their teachings are done verbally, but Decco is kind enough to ask around and two days later, a Mandalorian in an orange armor agrees to borrow Dulsissia something similar to a dictionary.

Too curious to wait until she is back in her room where Corin is getting ready for bed while she rushed out to get the book, Dulsissia stops in the middle of a hallway to look up the word. She’s dying to know what Davarax had hinted at, what he was trying to tell her and wanted her to know.

Turning the pages, Dulsissia finally finds the word. ‘Kov’nyn’! There it is!

A headbutt.

Dulsissia blinks. What? Excuse…? She vividly remembers the sight and not to mention the sound of Davarax headbutting that poor Mandalorian during his training and her eyes widen with startled surprise. What?! Was he going to do that to her during their next training? Oh, nonono, no way.

Just as she’s about to slam the book shut and declare that Davarax had been right; Decco might be a better teacher after all, Dulsissia almost accidentally reads more of the text.

Or: A kiss between couples when wearing armor.

Now she does slam the book shut and she’s finding it a bit hard to catch her breath.

Oh.

“I heard you were looking for a book on Mando’a.” A voice says behind her.

Making a startled sound, clutching the book close, Dulsissia spins around and is even more startled when she sees the golden armor and fur cloak.

It’s her. The leader.

“Yes. I, uhm,” Dulsissia awkwardly pushes a lock of her hair behind her ear, “I thought it was about time I learned a little more about… Mando’a. You have all been so kind to me.”

The leader looks at her and her body language is as impossible to read as her facial expression hidden by her helmet.

Dulsissia tries to smile.

“I also hear your son is making good progress in his training.”

Nodding, Dulsissia tries to hide how nervous she’s feeling.

“On his travels, Davarax has brought back many Foundlings. That is his Way and that is The Way.” The leader says. “But he has never brought back an outsider.”

Dulsissia loses the smile and she feels her shoulders sagging a little under the heavy weight of shame. “He… He was kind enough to save me from some horrible men.”

“Mmh.” Is the flat reply. “Are you going to take the Creed?”

Surprised, Dulsissia struggles to find the right answer. She’s been so busy trying to deal with the present that she hasn’t really planned her future. “I… I don’t know.”

That does not seem to impress the leader of the Mandalorians. “Then find your Way. Before you ruin his.”

Watching the Mandalorian walk away, Dulsissia isn’t entirely sure how she feels about this conversation. She’s getting the distinct feeling that this was a message for her to stay away from Davarax, but why? Surely the leader of a warrior tribe does not care about the love life of one of her soldiers? And what gives her the right? Rude.

Frowning, Dulsissia starts walking back to her room while the thoughts keep churning in her brain.

She doesn’t know what she’s going to do, not even when she walks over to Davarax’ door instead of her own and finds herself knocking on it. Dulsissia waits until he opens the door, says her name in a slightly confused tone, and then… she drops the book, reaches up with both hands to take a hold of the top of his breastplate and promptly pulls him down to thump her forehead to his helmet.

Ow.

Letting go, Dulsissia takes a step back and rubs her forehead. One eye closed, she stares at him in confusion. “I think you people got kissing a bit wrong. It’s not supposed to hurt, you know?”

Stunned, Davarax finally straightens back up and reaches out a hand to take a hold of her upper arm in case she falls over. “I don’t… That’s not how…” The Davaraxian laughter huff appears before he urges her to take the step back to him. “Can I show you?”

Dulsissia moves closer to him willingly enough, but she keeps rubbing her forehead and hesitates. “I’m not sure if I want another concussion.” Maybe she isn’t Mandokarla after all? She prefers softer things than headbutts from her date.

“Trust me?” Davarax asks in a quiet tone.

Sighing, Dulsissia lowers her arm. “Fine. But if I am knocked unconscious, you’re in charge of making breakfast to Corin tomorrow as an apology.”

“Deal.” Davarax murmurs, but in an absent way. His hands are already sliding up to cup her face and she shivers at the memory of them without gloves. “Close your eyes, Dulcy.”

Swallowing hard, she does. Suddenly she doesn’t care if he headbutts her into tomorrow as long as he doesn’t take his hands off her or stop talking.

“It’s mean to be gentle…” Davarax says, so soft and smooth, his hands tilting her head backwards, just a little, but enough so her body automatically arches against his. “It’s meant to be warm…” One hand moves to cup the back of her head, the other slides down to her lower back. “It’s longing…” Smooth beskar gently meets her now very warm skin and he eases her body close, so very close, until she’s firmly up against him with a very strong arm around her waist. “and it’s giving.” He tightens his grip around her.

Reaching up, Dulsissia’s fingers dig into the fabric on his upper arms, desperate to hold on to something so she doesn’t just swoon in his arms like a bad theatre actress.

Davarax lets out a soft exhale, it’s sounds almost like relief, and she can feel the muscles in his arm tightening a little more, his hand cupping her head and holding her there, as if she still isn’t close enough for him.

Time stands still. All she feels is heat, him and her own frantic pulse.

Breathless, far too warm for any decent explanation, Dulsissia reluctantly opens her eyes when he pulls away and shivers with disappointment when he lets go of everything but her hand.

“That’s what it’s meant to be like.” Davarax says.

“Oh.” Dulsissia manages. Okay, maybe everyone else had something to learn from Mandalorians.

It takes a visible effort for Davarax to make himself let go of her hand, for a second she can see the twitch in his shoulders when he stops himself from pulling her close again, but he lets go and now he is the one to take a step away. “Good night, Dulcy.”

“Good night.” She whispers, and it takes a visible effort for her to turn around, pick up the book with numb fingers and go over to her own room.

-

Stupid Mandalorians and their stupid headbutt kissing! Now Dulsissia can’t even look over at Davarax without feeling her face burn or be near him without having her heart to backflips all around her ribcage. This is making her life very frustrating!

And her only comfort is suspecting that Davarax isn’t faring much better either. Judging from how he walked into that table yesterday when she stretched out.

The training? Oh, it’s the sweetest torture ever.

She’s on her way to pick up Corin at Din’s room when a familiar piercing way of screaming catches her attention and Dulsissia doesn’t hesitate to run towards the sound.

Inside what looks to be school room with several pillows on the floor placed around a larger one. A group of scared children are huddled together in one corner while a Mandalorian who looks to be the teacher is restraining a fully feral Raga, with one big hand gripping her arm and the other hand is locked around her neck and preventing her from moving her head.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Dulsissia shouts, stalking in and shoving the Mandalorian away.

Once again surprise is on her side and the Mandalorian stumbles away, releasing the little girl and Dulsissia does not hesitate to crouch down and wrap her arms protectively around the flailing child. Pain flares when sharp teeth dig into Dulsissia’s arm and latch on.

“She’s completely feral!” The teacher shouts, pointing at Raga. “I’ve taught children, youngsters and foundlings alike, for decades and I’ve never met a child that feral! She’s hopeless!”

“What do you expect when you restrain her like a rancor? I’d bite you too!” Dulsissia shouts back at him. She gets up, hoists Raga in her arms, ignores the pain of the teeth still digging into her and marches out of the room with her.

She’s halfway to her quarters, Raga still hasn’t let go but at least she has stopped flailing and screaming and is just quietly twitching so that’s something, when a Mandalorian comes trotting with Davarax on his tail. They both come to a halt when they see Dulsissia carrying Raga.

“I was just coming to…” Davarax points helplessly in the direction of the classroom. “They said she…” He sighs at the sight and reaches out towards Dulsissia’s arm. “Here, I’ll try to-”

“No.” Dulsissia snaps, turning away to shield her arm and Raga from him. “I got her. I’m taking her to my room. You go tell Corin, he’s with Din, that I’m going to be late, and then you go get us Paz.”

Davarax seems a little surprised, but eventually he gives a nod and Dulsissia continues her march back to her room, giving a quick couple of pets to Raga’s back as she’s still twitching.

Once they are inside in the safety of her and Corin’s room, Dulsissia walks over to sit down on the bed. Raga is a bit larger than Corin, her thin frame doesn’t make her much heavier, but she’s taller and it takes a little arranging of her skinny legs and arms. Once they are settled, Dulsissia continues to run her hand up and down Raga’s back and just waits.

To her surprise, Raga lets go of her arm. And a few seconds after that, the girl quietly mumbles; “M’ sorry…”

Smiling, Dulsissia continues to stroke her back. “It’s okay, baby. I know you didn’t mean to.”

“He said I had to sit in the corner because I threw some thing at him.” Raga mumbles. “But I didn’t. It wasn’t me!” She starts to get agitated again. “I told him it wasn’t me and he said he was going to tell my parents I was a liar and have them punish me!”

Forcing her own anger away, Dulsissia strokes the girl’s back again. “I’m sorry he did that to you, sweetie. I’m sorry he didn’t believe you. That was wrong of him.”

“It wasn’t me…” Raga whispers.

“I believe you.” Dulsissia reassures her. And for the next ten minutes, she just holds her close, strokes her back and pets her hair. And anger quietly simmers inside.

Finally Davarax arrives and in his footsteps, Paz follows. He instantly darts by his teacher at the sight of Raga and the girl doesn’t hesitate to twist around to reach out to him.

Dulsissia gets up from the bed and watches Paz take her seat, pulling Raga close and lets her curl up on his lap. She almost disappears in his embrace. That boy is going to end up a giant if he doesn’t stop growing soon and yet he treats his friend with such mesmerizing gentleness.

“Your arm…” Davarax asks quietly, looking over.

“It’s fine.” Dulsissia replies. It aches like crazy and there will definitely be bruising, but that is not what is important right now. She looks over at him. “They called her a liar. They were holding her down like a rabid loth-cat. And they are surprised she bites?”

Davarax shakes his head. “I know…” He sounds pained and resigned. “The four of them are marked as troublemakers. If something goes wrong, if something could have gone wrong, they’re always blamed. And I can’t stop it.”

Dulsissia’s eyes narrow. “Stay here with the kids.”

“Where are you going?”

“I have to talk to someone.”

-

Dulsissia raps on the door with urgent haste and this time she doesn’t wait for the drowsy Mandalorian to speak before she asks; “Is he in?”

He is.

She knocks and then barges in to the room, startling Barthor into a defensive stance. Dulsissia ignores the tiny fists. “What I’m about to ask you can never be repeated. Do you understand?”

Barthor stares at her, slowly lowering his fists. “What?”

Dulsissia stalks closer and he backs up a step so she crouches down for them to be the same height. “I need you to do something for me and no one can ever find out.”

Barthor’s dark eyes slide from side to side, as if checking for hidden cameras. “Do… what?”

“I want you to make me a stink bomb.”

Snorting a laugh, Barthor shakes his head and walks over to sit on his bed. “I don’t know how to-”

“You know.” Dulsissia interrupts him. “Will you make me one?”

Barthor frowns, now suspicious. “Why? What are you going to do with it?”

Dulsissia raises an eyebrow. “I want to place it in the room belonging to man who teaches Raga’s class.”

That seems to make Barthor even more suspicious. “Why?”

“Because he’s a bully to Raga.”

Something flickers in Barthor’s eyes. “He was mean to Raga again?”

Again. The word hurts Dulsissia’s soul. If that man had been mean to her son, he wouldn’t have had the chance to do it ‘again’. She nods.

Barthor stares down at that floor for a little while, then he jumps to his feet and sighs. “Okay, give me ten minutes.”

It takes him eight to finish it. But he insists on joining her when she goes to plant the contraption.

“You might do it wrong.” Barthor informs her, gingerly easing it into a small bag.

Dulsissia rolls her eyes but follows him when he marches off towards their unsuspecting victim.

Once there, it’s clear it won’t be as easy as they hoped. The man is in his room.

“You distract him, I’ll plant it.” Barthor declares.

Dulsissia nods. “Be careful.”

Barthor smirks. And they go to work.

Knocking on the door, Dulsissia waits for the man to open it and then begins lecturing him on all the wrong ways to handle a sensitive child, not letting the man get a word in, and she barely catches the shadow of little Barthor sneaking by them and into the room.

She keeps her rant going, the man is too surprised and startled to do much than come with feeble objections, and the second Dulsissia sees the shadow sneak out by the man’s legs again, she finishes her speech.

“Good day to you, sir!”

Marching down the hallway, she rounds a corner and finds Barthor there. He looks up at her with a hint of respect.

“Not bad.” He says with grudging respect.

“You too.” Dulsissia replies, reaching out a hand and shakes his when he takes it. “But remember, no one can know.”

Barthor grins. “Don’t worry. No one is going to be able to to prove anything.” “Good.”

When the stink spreads in the man’s room, Dulsissia and Barthor has picked up Corin, and somehow Din ends up tagging along, and they are all safely in Dulsissia and Corin’s room, along with Paz, Raga and Davarax. Eating cookies.

And Barthor was right; nobody is ever able to prove who was behind it.

-

“Mom, are you sure we can’t ask Din to stay here?” Corin asks one morning.

Sighing, Dulsissia looks over at her sweet son. “I told you, baby. I don’t think his parents will like that. Is there something wrong? Is that why you keep asking?”

Corin, sitting on her bed, shrugs and looks down. “He doesn’t like it there.”

Clearly, as the child spends most of his time with them rather than his parents, but Dulsissia isn’t sure how Mandalorian adoption works. She’s fairly certain it would be frowned upon if she just started hoarding children from them. Otherwise, she would probably have had bunk beds and five children in this room. “I’m sorry to hear that, Corin. Has he tried to talk to his parents?”

Corin shakes his head. “He doesn’t like talking to them.”

Dulsissia has a sneaking suspicion that Din doesn’t like much, except Davarax and her son. At least he has excellent taste. “Do you think he’d like me to talk to them?”

Corin shakes his head again. “He won’t like it if he knew I’d told you.”

Figures. Dulsissia sighs. “Then I don’t know what we can do, baby. They are his parents. We are guests here.”

“Well,” Corin looks over at her, “at least he can come and visit as much as he likes?”

“Absolutely.” Dulsissia confirms. “And I’ll ask if he can stay over some time. Would that help?”

Her beautiful boy lights up with delight. “Really? You’re the best, mom!”

“Remember you said that when I tell you to clean up your toys.” Dulsissia declares.

Corin laughs.

It’s such a wonderful sound. He never used to laugh. He’s always been such a silent child, like Din, but the longer they have stayed here at the Covert; the more Corin has come out of his shell.

He no longer cowers behind her leg when they are in the common room with the other Mandalorians. He still flinches when someone raises their voice, but at least he doesn’t go pale and look like he’s about to pass out. He has friends. And there is a father figure whom Corin greets with joy and looks forward to spending time with, unlike his biological father.

Losing her dresses and servants is a price she’s more than willing to pay to see her son this happy.

There is just thing that could ruin everything. And considering it’s not just harmless flirting any more, Dulsissia decides it is time to tell Davarax.

She asks Decco to look after her son, which she grudgingly agrees to despite meaning the boy is old enough to look after himself, and then Dulsissia asks Davarax to meet her in Din’s hiding space.

“Well,” Davarax say as he steps over a piece of engine and barely manages to make his way over to where she’s sitting on a sofa pillow without falling or knocking himself unconscious against some metal part sticking out amidst the debris they are surrounded by, “this is romantic.”

“Sorry.” Dulsissia says, too nervous to be amused by the graceless way he tumbles down on the pillow next to hers. “I just wanted us to be able to talk in private.”

The tone of her voice makes him sit up and pay attention. “What’s wrong?”

“I want to tell you something.” Dulsissia says, sighing. “And I’m not sure how you’re going to react.”

“You can tell me anything.”

Oh, how she hopes that is true. Dulsissia takes a deep breath, looks down at her own hands as she wrings them nervously in her lap. She smiles a little when his hand moves over to cover them and stops her from hurting herself. Okay. Here goes. “I told you my name is Dulcy.”

“Yes?”

“It’s not.” She glances over at him. “Well, it kind of is. It used to be my nickname. My name is Dulsissia.”

Davarax gives a faint shrug. “Okay?”

“Dulsissia Motti. The man looking for me, his name is Macero Valentis. He is Corin’s father.” Dulsissia braces herself, turns her gaze down to his gloved hand over both of hers and dreads the moment it will withdraw.

Davarax’ voice is carefully neutral. “If you’re a Motti, surely your family will help you get rid of Valentis?”

Dulsissia’s smile is bitter and it hurts. “No. I stupidly defied them to marry him and I’ve been told that I have to lie in the bed I made.”

Davarax hesitates. “Would you like to go back your family?”

Looking over at the man by her side, unable to stop the tears from welling up in her eyes, Dulsissia shakes her head. “No. And they’re not my family. They don’t know what the words means.”

Davarax’ hand withdraws from hers, but only so he can gently cup the side of her face. “Mottis and Valentis, they don’t scare me if that’s what you were worried about.”

“Kind of.” Dulsissia admits, a tear slipping from her eye. “I have seen the destruction they can cause. I don’t want to bring it here.”

“We’re Mandalorians.” Davarax says, a slight grin in his voice. “We thrive on battle. It’s in our blood. And they would find us a lot more dangerous than any other opponent they’ve been up against in the past.” His thumb caresses her skin, wiping away her tear, and his voice softens. “They don’t matter. They’re in the past. You are here now. You’re Dulcy. And Corin is safe. You both are.”

It might not be Mandokarla, but Dulsissia doesn’t care; she leans over and he wraps his arms around her.

“As long as I breathe,” Davarax mumbles, holding her close, “you and Corin will always be safe.”

[murasaki-murasame]

Thoughts on Higurashi Sotsu Ep15 [FINALE]

For better or worse I think Ryukishi achieved exactly what he set out to do with this series, and I guess everyone’s just gonna be forced to reckon with how they feel about his own perspective on this franchise versus how they feel about it, lol.

Anyway, thoughts under the cut, plus Umineko spoilers.

I’m not entirely sure where to even start with this, but I guess the TL;DR is that I honestly think Gou/Sotsu was ultimately just fine despite it’s issues, and part me of can’t help but be like ‘I told you so, lol’ about how this really did end with this episode, and also committed pretty hard to the Umineko prequel elements.

It’s not like all of my theories were correct in the end, but I at least think I was pretty spot on in my prediction last week that this would end with the miracle of them side-stepping the sword issue entirely and choosing the third option of forgiveness and reconciliation. And also them ending it with an epilogue where we go back to the Matsuribayashi timeline and get a happy ending for Rika and Satoko that provides a ‘non-magical interpretation’ for the story while also giving us an idea of how Bern and Lambda formally split off into their own entities and start the relationship we see in Umineko.

I didn’t quite expect them to go down the route of having them agree to just spend a few years apart and accept that they don’t need to literally always be together, but I think that was a really good way to wrap things up between them. It’s pretty much the healthiest compromise to their conflict that doesn’t come across like it completely invalidates one of their dreams. I get why it feels too anti-climactic and convenient for people, but when you pull at that thread you get into wider topics of what the entire story is about, since this was always going to end with Satoko being redeemed and forgiven. People might not have taken him seriously, but Ryukishi was 100% genuine about his regrets about Matsuribayashi’s ending, and how part of why he came up with this new story was to create a better ending, while also doing more with Satoko as a character.

Basically I think a lot of the fandom negativity towards this boils down to people fundamentally disagreeing with the idea that Matsuribayashi was even ‘flawed’ in this sort of way to begin with, or that Satoko was badly written. It’s valid to disagree on this stuff, but at the very least we all have to grapple with how Ryukishi has his own specific relationship with this series.

People like to focus on how he’s a troll who likes to mess with people, but I feel like this is a bit of a wake-up call for people about how he’s actually extremely sincere, almost to a fault, and he likes to use his stories as a vehicle for expressing his personal philosophies and ideals. 

This whole story is also a good example of how he just sees this as ultimately being a fictional story about fictional characters, and not literally a matter of real people who need to be sentenced for their crimes or whatever. As early as the original VN he was almost being outright preachy about the message that nobody is irredeemable, and that philosophy carries through to this. But to be more specific, nobody *in this story* is irredeemable. He’s pretty open about the fact that in practice you can’t apply this sort of ideal to real life, but fictional stories are their own separate matter.

I think this whole issue of how he views this as a story first and foremost is also the central reason why this ended in a way that comes across as Satoko being let off too easy for her crimes. One way or another, Ryukishi’s made it clear that he sees this as being no different to how other characters had arcs where they committed crimes but still got forgiven, or how Takano is basically a straight up war criminal who also got forgiven for her crimes.

Anyway, this episode at least committed to the Umineko stuff, so that was satisfying. Sure there’s people that still want to deny it, but at this point I think a lot of people are just being stubborn, so it’s not like anything would have really convinced them, lol. I’m also genuinely not sure what people even would have expected them to do beyond what we saw her, aside from having the two of them literally put on their gothic lolita outfits and turn to the camera and go ‘we are literally Bernkastel and Lambdadelta from the video game series Umineko When They Cry’. I almost feel like there’s some kind of misunderstanding from people who aren’t familiar with Umineko when it comes to the idea of what it even means for this to be ‘an Umineko prequel’, or ‘a Bern/Lambda origin story’. I mean, this is quite literally exactly what I expected and hoped for in that regard. It’s not like I was expecting them to incorporate anything related to, like, Beatrice or the Ushiromiya family.

I think this is also one of those things where you just have to decide for yourself whether or not you want to earnestly engage with the story that’s being told, or if you want to assume that there’s some level of malice or trickery going on.

To be honest, I wasn’t expecting them to literally have Rika and Satoko recite part of Bern and Lambda’s final conversation with each other word for word, lmao. Combined with the scene at the end where ‘Witch Satoko’ talks to herself about how she’s going to give her body back to Satoko while she goes chasing after Rika, it was literally just the exact origin story of their relationship as it’s depicted in Umineko.

I still feel like this would all only really be ‘worth it’ if we actually get something like a full on anime remake for Umineko, but at this point I can’t help but feel satisfied with this part of it all.

It’s not like I think Gou/Sotsu as a whole is perfect or anything, though. I don’t hate it as much as basically everyone else does, but I think Ryukishi’s the sort of VN writer who really struggles with the shift to writing for an anime. I think a big part of the frustration people have is just from how this is formatted as a weekly anime series spread across basically an entire year, instead of being something like a stand-alone VN chapter that you can read at whatever pace you want, even if it ultimately takes the same amount of time to read as it would to watch all of Gou/Sotsu.

There’s also the whole issue of this being a sort-of-remake, which snowballed into a whole list of structural problems. They absolutely tried too hard to have their cake and eat it too, and they should have just committed to it being made for old fans only, instead of trying to sincerely incorporate elements from the VN that old fans don’t care about anymore because they’ve gone over it already.

And as I’ve said several times before, it was a major issue for them to decide to put Nekodamashi in the middle of Gou and then spend like 20 episodes on flashback answer arcs until finally getting back to that cliffhanger. I’ve been waiting until this all ended to decide exactly how I feel about that, and now that it’s all over I still think it was a really bad idea. I don’t think it was an issue for them to reveal that Satoko’s the culprit that early, but having the gun cliffhanger specifically happen that early just gave people misguided expectations and tainted the answer arcs because people were just impatient to get back to the cliffhanger. And then the cliffhanger itself ended up being somewhat anti-climactic, which is what I’d been fearing would happen. It would have worked fine if they shuffled it around so that the cliffhanger happened right before Kagurashi and was followed up in the very next episode, or if this was a VN where you could binge your way through the flashback stuff, but spending like half of an entire real-life year to get back to that point only to have the resolution be ‘Satoko just shoots Rika and the death loops keep going’ just didn’t really work properly.

I’m a lot more generous towards the Akashi arcs than most people are, since I think they really over-estimate how much re-used content there is there, but they still suffer from the central issue of the show trying to be accessible for new fans. It could have been heavily condensed otherwise, without losing anything in terms of Satoko’s whole character arc.

On the other hand I think the first half of Kagurashi was awful specifically because it highlighted how bad of an idea it was to put Nekodamashi so early in the story. They still ended up having to go back to that arc and repeat it anyway, in the most 1:1 recap-y way in the whole show, but that wouldn’t have even been an issue in the first place if that was instead the first time that arc happened in the show.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how I would rearrange the story to make it flow better while still following Ryukishi’s intentions, and I think they could have condensed it into a 2-cour season with this sort of structure if they did something like this:

-First arc where Rika gets thrown back into the loop and quickly figures out that somebody intentionally caused this to happen, and it’s not Takano because at least in this idea of mine she’d try and investigate her only to find out that this version of Takano regrets everything and is planning to flee the village with Tomitake.

Basically I think this could tie into the idea of Satoko initially wanting to just concoct an idea world for Rika so that she won’t want to leave this time, but sort of like what I think happens in Saikoroshi, Rika would still reject it, and this time around there’d be the additional layer of her knowing that somebody did this to her for an unknown reason. Maybe they could even initially market it as a new adaptation or a remake of Saikoroshi, and then reveal that it’s a sequel, to keep that whole element to the series. Either way I think this would end with everything going to shit when Rika rejects that fragment and wants to go back to St. Lucia’s, and Satoko basically snaps and kills her, and that way the audience can find out about her being the culprit without Rika finding out about it yet.

Maybe there could even be some dramatic irony where Rika’s attempts to meddle with certain ‘trigger events’, and her displaying her looper side, inadvertently triggers people around her to get paranoid, and the whole fragment would start to spiral into tragedy from there. I think they could at least use the whole conflict in Tatariakashi about Teppei actually being good this time as a starting point for that sorta thing.

-Second arc, rounding out the first cour, which is basically just Satokowashi. I don’t think there’s much that you’d need to change here, but like I said above I like the idea of her initially trying to just invent a perfect world for Rika and her to live in, instead of jumping straight to murder. But maybe instead of her literally just watching Rika’s loops, she could instead just be stuck using her looping powers to try and figure out how to create that ‘perfect world’ in the first place, by personally investigating all of the different tragedies and how to prevent them.

-Staring the second cour, a third arc where we basically just get to see those loops Satoko goes through, and her whole process of solving the tragedies and ‘purifying’ characters like Teppei and Takano, until we eventually see her perspective on the first arc, and how she reacts to Rika ultimately rejecting the world she tried to make for her.

-A fourth and final arc which is basically just Nekodamashi + Kagurashi, where she just totally snaps and tries to just torture Rika into never wanting to leave the village again, and eventually Satoko gets exposed and they have their direct confrontation with each other.

With that sorta story structure, you’d keep all the relevant bits of Gou/Sotsu as it is now, while being more focused on Rika and Satoko instead of doing kinda half-assed reruns of the Rena and Shion arcs. It’d also push the big cliffhanger between them until near the end of the show, while still revealing to the audience relatively early on that Satoko’s the culprit.

I’d also like them to do more with Satoshi and Shion, so maybe like with how Teppei gets redeemed and Satoko almost gets to have a happy life with him in Tatariakashi, the central question arc of this hypothetical story could also involve Satoko making sure that Satoshi wakes up from his coma, and Shion also gets to have a good relationship with all of them. You could probably do something interesting with the idea of Satoshi and Shion being in the camp of not trusting Teppei and his whole redemption arc.

Honestly I could spend a long time talking about how I would have done things differently, lol. For one thing, I think the Akashi arcs would have been much better if they just changed it so that Satoko used psychological tactics to make people paranoid, and we completely cut out the whole syringe plot device. I get how it fits with Satoko’s whole certainty gimmick, but it made those arcs way too predictable. Even if we knew the outcome, it’d at least be entertaining to see exactly how Satoko might go out of her way to set up the different tragedies. We kinda got glimpses of that sorta plot point in Wataakashi when things seemed to go outside of her control, but they didn’t really do much with it.

Anyway, this is a whole lot of words to say that I think that in spite of the serious structural issues going on, I think Gou/Sotsu as a whole is fine, and was at least working with a lot of perfectly good ideas that could have been executed much better.

Also, on a side note, that one scene during their fist-fight at the start where the art-style changes a bit was kinda weird, but I really liked how it looked, and part of me almost wishes the whole show looked like that, lol. I like Akio Watanabe’s character designs, but I feel like that sort of stylized, almost TWEWY-ish art style would have been really fitting for this series, especially in the horror/action parts.

Oh, and the new rendition of You was so good it almost felt emotionally manipulative, lol.

[snuggetfish]

(UM omg I'm sorry if this is long and specific, you look like you're interested in hearing thoughts like that, however if this is giving you a headache hghhh pls ignore this)

I'm sure Majima would do everything he could to raise his kid with as much normalcy as possible considering all the stuff associated with him. His kid however is gonna be aware of the things he went through and (still does occasionally) and by the time they're in their late teens they'll probably be able to understand how and why everything has been happening.

What if this just...closes them off completely to him when it comes to communicating their more "common" issues? (That combined with having inherited the Majima trait of emotional repression💀)

Considering his child is a civilian there's already this gap between them and a potential form of inability to relate with each other completely.

So what If they're super nervous about failing the semester? Are they gonna say that to a man who, when was in their age, was locked away in a torture dungeon?

Did they come across a shitty person on the street? Well, dad has to meet tens of those every day for years now so...

With the logic of how 'He's had it worse' and how 'He already has a lot on his plate' you can never really win.

Does Majima notice when his child stops talking to him and does he seek a resolution to this? What is for sure is that neither of them would want to lose the close bond they have with each other

YES. Thank you for sharing this with me anon, it's definitely right up my alley when it comes to Dadjima daydreams! I wrote everything under the cut because my response is just as long haha

It's a good topic to explore, because I totally agree that Majima would try to keep his child's life within the parameters of "normal", as much as he can. But at the same time, this can have lots of different outcomes, some he's likely not even thought of.

Sure his kid could live out their perfect, happy childhood, later learn of their dad's past and current dealings and be content to never delve deeper than that. Simply never speak of it again. Majima would be okay with that...

On the flip side, the worst-case scenario for Majima is outright resentment. What if it all comes as a shock to his kid - the torture, the gang violence, the mass murder he almost committed at age 20...? His underworld reputation could forever taint the image of "dad" in their mind and cause them to pull away completely.

But what Majima doesn't consider are these in-between cases, like the one you mentioned. Dad, who's always all grins and energy, has in fact been through some of the worst things a human can experience. How do any of their "mundane" problems even compare to that?

So while I think he'd notice the distance forming between them right away, Majima wouldn't figure out the real cause until a lot later. At first, he thinks it's exam stress, then regular teenage sulkiness, then he starts prodding to see if they're perhaps being bullied at school...

The actual reason hits him like a freight train, mostly cause it's so... unthinkable, for him at least. He's seen lots of different reactions to his past before: pity, fear, indifference, but this is wholly new. And what he'd say is...

"It ain't a race to the bottom."

The scars, the nightmares, the unprocessed trauma, no one's tallying them up. Nobody but yourself. And they sure as hell are no consolation during those times where you just feel like giving up. Majima's never felt like a martyr and there's no reason anyone should ever look at him that way.

In fact, all that stuff he went through... it was made all the worse by not having someone there to support him. So if there's one thing Majima wants to do right in this life, it's making damn sure that he's there for his kid. Now and forever, in rain or shine, no matter what issue they're facing. He may have drawn the short straw when it comes to living a happy life, but hey, maybe that makes him all the more equipped to deal with his child's troubles, small as they may seem now. 🥺

On a different note, since I just recently finished Y6 (it seriously took just over half a year, congrats me 🐌🥇), there's another scenario I could see playing out. Spoilers for Y6, stop reading here if you haven't played it!

The Iwami father and son dynamic is in a way a cautionary tale about heredity in organized crime. You're a powerful yakuza boss, but, naturally, you've got a soft spot for your son. You want to protect him and keep him well away from the underworld. You've got the best of intentions, but as it turns out, it takes more than just good intentions to raise a kid...

If it gets to the point where you're constantly at war with each other, with you actively dismissing his attempts at participating in the "family business", then you're basically sending the message that you don't trust him. Or that he isn't worthy. You're forcibly making a choice for him and even if it's the "right" choice, by whatever measure, you're still taking away his autonomy.

The thing with Majima is that he's been known to do this before... to Makoto, to Mirei to some extent, to with Saejima. If he can see that there's a clearly better path (usually the one that involves him leaving the person's life altogether), he will do anything to make sure they take it. Distancing himself, withholding information, whatever it takes.

But could he do the same in the case of his own child? Boy I dunno... it would easily be the toughest choice he's ever had to make. If his son was frightfully power-hungry like Iwami Jr., dead set on taking over as the next Majima family patriarch... could and should Majima stop him? I wanna say he'd eventually give in and let him pursue this dream, because he can't bear to be hated by his own kin... but I'm still kinda undecided tbh 🤔

Would love to hear others' thoughts though!

[unfunny-quips]

Of all the many people in the world who wanted him dead, All For One had to admit that he was rather surprised by the person who actually managed to both track him down and get past his impressive security.

He knew someone was there the moment he opened the door. Could sense the presence of another person in his high rise apartment that shouldn’t have been there. A steady heartbeat, unflinching and unafraid. Brave or stupid, he wasn’t sure, but they’d be dead either way once he wrung out of them how they’d gotten in and which of his security detail he was going to have to kill.

He shrugged off his coat - it was new and fit him well, he’d rather not get blood on it - and hung it up carefully by the front door. Slipped off his shoes and rolled his shoulders with a sigh. Though that particular apartment was not homey per se, there was something oddly comforting about returning to a living space that was entirely his own at the end of a day. Though centuries ago, a childhood fraught with uncertain living situations and inconsistent care had left marks on him that time and power had not fully been able to shake.

All the more reason to make the intruder’s death slow, as insignificant a threat as they were, they’d at least been able to find him. Which meant finding a new luxury apartment, perhaps even in a new city. And he despised moving.

He kept his steps light on the polished wooden floors, stopping by the oversized and little used kitchen for some water before he meandered his way towards the living room where his uninvited guest waited. Perhaps he’d throw them out the window, eighty stories up would make for a rather long time to think about their impending death. Or maybe tear them apart inch by literal inch so they had to languish in their suffering.

Setting his glass down on the kitchen counter he stepped into his spacious living room and paused at what sat waiting for him.

All For One, Emperor of Darkness, King of all Villains, Boogeyman of the Boogeymen found himself...uncertain.

There was a woman seated on his couch. Casually dressed and relaxed looking, knees drawn up and tucked beneath her, an open book bag on the floor beside where she sat and a law textbook in hand. She finished highlighting a section carefully before capping the marker and turning her gaze on to him, letting him see her face properly for the first time.

Green eyes were the first thing that struck him. Clear and bright and intelligent, set in a kind face. Her hair, also green, was swept down a little past her shoulders with half of it pulled up in a fluttering little bun at the back of her head. He was struck by two thoughts as he took her in.

The woman sitting before him was entirely unintimidated by him.

And...

She looked a bit like Nana Shimura. 

The woman tilted her head, seeming to take him in while he’d been observing her. She shifted on the couch a little, shutting the book softly and setting it down. Her heartbeat was steady, her gaze unflinching but not combative. Purpose seemed to flow off of her, as resolute as her steady gaze. He understood that she knew exactly who he was and felt no need for fear nor sense of unease in his presence. A strong will, he knew the aura he carried around him well and it was someone interesting indeed who could face the overwhelming killing intent that drifted off him in waves without so much as a flicker of uncertainty. 

“Hello.” She said with a soft, clear voice. The kind of ease one has with an acquaintance or a friend not often seen, not a stranger whose house she had invaded. “I’m sorry to have broken in like this.” She started, with the appropriate level of apology one would save for knocking over a stranger’s drink. “But I was hoping you’d be able to help me.”

He should be irritated, he should just kill her and get on with his evening, he should make her an example for anyone else stupid enough to think they could waltz into his home without consquence. 

He wasn’t irritated though. And he didn’t kill her. Instead he found himself oddly...charmed by the stranger that sat before him.

“Indeed?” He asked blandly, slipping his hands into his pockets before leaning against the wall casually. “I’m afraid you’re rather lost if you think this is a police station.”

The woman broke into a small smile, a soft huffing chuckle leaving her. Shaking her head she dropped her gaze for a moment and he saw the faint pink of a blush on her cheeks. He was, he realized. He was absolutely charmed by her. And it wasn’t even her Quirk doing it, hers had the feel of a gravitational telekinesis, not a mood altering ability. The woman that sat before him, who had broken into his home and casually asked him for help as if searching for her stray cat, was oddly endearing. And it had been a long time since he had found himself endeared by anything, let alone a person.

“Sorry,” She said, shifting on the couch. “I’ve probably done this all wrong. But I wanted you to know I was serious.” Green eyes met his own and he was struck again by the intelligence he saw in her gaze. “I don’t know why I thought this would be the way to do it but…” She gave a shrug, then slowly got to her feet. Careful not to topple her bag or trip as she untangled from her comfortable position on the couch. “Here, let me try again.” 

He watched as she gave a short, polite bow, hands clasped before her. A neat and polite introduction, complete with a soft smile as she rose to meet his gaze again. “My name is Midoriya Inko. I’m a graduate law student at Kyushu University, and I was hoping you could take my Sensei’s Quirk.”

Well. 

How on earth was he supposed to kill such a charming, polite young woman when she came to him with such an interesting request such as that?

He couldn’t, of course, was the answer.

---

Inko always had trouble with authority.

Even when she was very young she’d been prone to doing what she was told she shouldn’t just because an adult told her not too. Her father - in what faint and blurring memories she had of him before his death - used to call her his little revolutionary and would laugh over the hijinks her stubborn nature would produce. Then again, her father had his reasons to support the wholesale refusal to bend to the whims of authority. 

Trying to take down the corrupt system the government had put in place had been the cause of his death, after all.

Her mother had been far less amused by Inko’s acts of rebellion for rebellion’s sake. Always begging Inko to please just follow the rules just once honey with a perpetually exhausted look on her face. Inko’s only picture of her mother - a snapshot of the entire family at a park, her small frame held in her father’s arms a month before he would be killed - showed Nana Shimura with a wide, infectious smile in place. It felt odd looking at it in years to come, as Inko could only recall her mother looking mournful and sad in those last days.

It had been Kotaro that was the well behaved one of the two of them. Thirteen minutes older than her, he took the responsibilities of the eldest sibling with a seriousness that was almost frightening at times when they’d been children.

He’d been the one to tell her not to get into trouble, the one to reprimand her when she misbehaved. The one to tell her not to sneak out when they were teenagers in one of their many foster homes after their mother had given them up. Rule abiding, strict and, as they’d grown, more and more obsessed with control. Of her, of their situation, of whatever he could. A strangling, grasping bid at a control that had only led their already rocky relationship to splinter even further.

Her last conversation with him before she’d stopped speaking to him completely he’d told her that she should be a quiet housewife. She’d gone and applied to law school the very next day.

She still found herself wondering if that had been Kotaro being clever. Using her own contrary impulses to make her commit to something she’d always wanted to do but been too uncertain about to try and follow. It would have been the kindest he’d been to her in years if it was true, and she’d been too afraid to reach out to him to find out for fear that it wasn’t.

Instead she focused on her studies, focused on being the person she wanted to be instead of the person she’d been forced to become over the years. Not the abandoned daughter of a hero that had to retire too soon, but someone who was able to take the rules she’d been so long rebelling against and reshape them. Twist them under her hands until they settled into something she could believe in. Something she could follow.

At nineteen, after careful consideration and one less-than-helpful conversation with her friend Mitsuki she changed her name to Midoriya. On her twentieth birthday enjoying the fact that she could - legally - drink herself into oblivion, she cut her waist long hair off in a single ugly cut with the kitchen scissors. The next hour was spent in laughter as Mitsuki’s shy fashion student boyfriend Masaru fixed the mess as best he could. At twenty-one she clutched her best friend’s hand and gritted her teeth as a tattoo artist brought to life a stylized kitsune on her shoulder. A mark of the trickster she wished to become. And in between all of that, she proved herself to the academic world at large and earned herself a full ride to Kyushu University’s much lauded law program.

The work was challenging, equal parts exhilarating and mind-numbingly boring. She spent her days working hard to get top marks in every class, to ace every test, and impress every teacher with her sharp wit and unbending will. Her nights were filled with studying and working whatever jobs she could pick up to cover what her scholarships didn’t cover. Mitsuki teased her that she would get wrinkles from squinting at so many books, but her friend was always supportive. 

Years passed, semesters flying by in almost a dream at times, whisking her closer and closer to graduation and her dream of reshaping the system into something she could believe in. Despite her exhaustion, she’d found herself happier than she’d ever been in her life.

Which of course was the exact moment that it all started crashing down.

It started with one of the girl’s in the same program as Inko suddenly dropping the ball on her studies, the other woman’s grades began plummeting at an alarming rate. The girl -  Shibata Aiko - looked ragged and exhausted, unable to focus and eventually being dropped from the program entirely due to the issues with her academic performance. 

A few weeks later it was another female student shutting herself away in her dorm room for an entire week. The girl finally left her dorm looking haggard and sick, refusing to speak to anyone as she walked barefoot out into the wider world and immediately attempted to throw herself in front of a bus. 

Then one of Inko’s senpai’s - kind and serious Hanako who had mentored Inko briefly when she’d first joined the school - had what could only be called a breakdown in the school library. Screaming and crying as she began tearing up law books and flinging chairs.

Each incident was quickly handled and waved away as young women not suited for the high expectations and difficulties of such a high ranking university. Most of Inko’s classmates had been, if not content to accept that information, at least too exhausted by their own heavy workloads to question further.

But Inko never was good at accepting the will of authority.