#i just don’t know enough about anime to write authentically here

[anna-scribbles]

calling all miraculous fans who watched anime in middle school

PLEASE tell me what you think adrien’s favorite anime is. bonus points for characters you think he would relate to / want to be friends with

[cosmousee]

What Is Lunar Eclipse Bringing In For You!!🌜🌟

Hello everybody!!!

I'm back with another pick a pile🥰

I know I'm literally posting it on the DAY of the eclipse, but I got to writing it yesterday only, and with the last pile my laptop literally fell apart.

I completed writing it in class, because...who listens to lectures anyway🤪

ANYWHO! Enough chit chat!

Choose whatever pile resonates with you, whatever does not, remember to just pass it on🥰

Pile 1>>2>>3

Enjoy! (Posting it from phone, apologies if the formatting is bad😭)

Pile 1

Hey there loves! I hope lunar eclipse has treated you well!

For you I saw more of a building your own self sort of a thing. I saw an animation of you know sort of a stick figure thingy, and it was entirely made up of small paper bits, and you were rebuilding yourself again and again by replacing those bits with other bits. I think you guys are constantly figuring out which self is your most authentic self and the one where you are happiest being yourself. Ofcourse, this doesn’t come easy, which is why you are in a constant process.

For your oracle cards, we have

St. John’s Wort and Marigold: Against your will, there will not be; no entrance, no welcoming. Be Gone.

Witch’s Rosary: Craft your skills with intentions repeated, a practice of magick powered by purpose.

I’ll add your tarot cards here only, because I think they make more sense if I read them all together.

Your tarot cards are,

4 of Cups, 3 of Wands, The Fool and The Empress

For all of you, I believe you guys are free to choose, free to welcome whatever you want this lunar eclipse. It is your own decision, whatever path you want to choose, whether it may be your love life, your career, you focusing on your own self, focusing on forming a community for yourself.

I mean the list feels endless. Lunar eclipse is a fated time for things, and for you I feel like whatever you want this time, you’ll get it. Like it is up to you to focus on whatever and receive what you are focusing on. I have also heard that you shouldn’t manifest during lunar eclipse, or eclipses in general, but honestly, if you are feeling called to do so, you should listen to that calling.

The oracle cards are also saying that it you who is going to decide, nothing will happen if you don’t want that to happen. Everything is your will. And when you want something, be really really intentional and determined about it. Affirm about the things, sit and visualize those things, journal about them. Like keep that thing in your prayers and your thoughts sort of a thing.

Sit and reflect on what you think is the thing you need and want right now. Be determined but also be open about it like The Fool, open to the possibilities of it happening, especially if it feels like its something impossible. Be really fkn assured that whatever youre choosing to want is for your greatest good and you cannot, and will not fuck it up. Its such a fun energy to be in, because I am honestly extremely scared of eclipses, and I just spend the whole season crying my eyes out. I hope y’all are feeling well, because it seems to me that lunar eclipse isn’t forcing you to focus on one thing and deal with it. It letting you take the wheel and nudging you to take the steps this time, and the eclipse will help you achieve that thing and get that thing.

You might be confused as well, you know, that usually eclipses have a greater impact, but nothing is happening right now kinda thing. If you have something in mind that you wanna focus on, you can also ask for a hint, or even take this reading as a confirmation!

Okay! This is all I have for you today! Thanks for reading <3

Pile 2

Hey there loves! I hope lunar eclipse has treated you well!

For you, I saw a very barn type place, or like a farm-y place. It was very bright, sunny (not the kind where you’re all sweaty ugh), and there was a rainbow! I saw you being very very jolly, like literally sprinting and jumping with excitement and all the people you love, your friends and family were cheering you on from a distance.

Now, for your oracle cards, we have,

Harvest Witch: What sacrifices have you made for the greater vision of what is to be?

Adding your tarot cards here itself, because they give a better picture together,

The High Priestess, 10 of Pentacles, The World, 10 of Cups, 3 of Pentacles and The King of Pentacles

Now, the oracle card is talking about the chances you have taken to get out of your comfort zone, to get out of the habits of the current you, or the old you, in order to reach new heights. How much have you consciously put in the effort to grow and reach the highest of the heights you are supposed to achieve in this lifetime.

That’s the thing I saw when you were in that barn, that is such a happy version of you, and with the excitement that I saw, it really felt like either you were dreaming about it for a long time, or you just thought that this life was never possible for you.

Even with the tarot cards, they are telling you to follow your intuition, listen to it very closely. I think with the eclipse its calls would be getting louder by the minute, especially if you are missing the signs or outright ignoring the signs.

You are on a path to great success, you are yet to see the World and everything else that it offers, everything that you didn’t think it will offer.

I’m sure many of you might be content with where you are right now as well. But with this opportunity, you will feel content like never before. You know if you’ve got rose gold glasses on right now, pursuing this new path will give you ultra 4k HD rose gold glasses. There is a fulfilment you haven’t felt before, and it’s gonna come like fresh air to you, like you’ve breathed for the first time, like your lungs have felt the cleanest of the air in a long while.

Spirit might be showing you a collaboration or a partnership which is your ticket for this new world. You might be sitting frustrated about everything, and this opportunity will just drop in. Listen to your intuition, if its telling you to go for it, you better go for it. Don’t double guess it, listen to yourself and let your intuition get a breather because I think it’s been trying to get your attention for a while now!

Also, I think you might have to travel for this, like actually go some place far, which is why I saw your friends and family at a distance. But don’t worry, they are very happy for you and they are cheering you on, and obviously, you can always come back home for them!!

So get out there and you better enjoy the heck out of life!

Okay! This is all I have for you today! Thanks for reading <3

Pile 3

Hey there loves! I hope lunar eclipse has treated you well!

I saw you making snow angels!! Very happy, healing your inner child sort of a thing (I’ve never made a snow angel and I really really wanna). It also makes me think of leaving an impression, or a lasting imprint. Like you say something to someone and it really sticks with them, or you’ve done something that people always remember, even years down the line, they are like “Oh you remember [Name] did this amazing thing that time?” and you are fondly remembered.

It can be a really small act of kindness also that people remember, or you’ve helped someone and that memory is you know forever in their hearts kind of a thing.

Okay, so for your oracle cards we have,

Falling Leaves: Let go of the things that weigh heavily on you; you deserve to take up space.

Crow: Pay close attention to the winds; there’s a message making its way.

The first card again tells you to take up space, which is what you do essentially when you are making snow angels! (11:11 pm make a wish~) You take up space, you do your thing, and that is where you create your mark, your identity. It shows that you were there, you existed, you took up your space, you’ve marked it as your own.

I also think, because of the snow, that the winter season might be important for you.

Also, with the crow card, you might get an idea, an epiphany sort of a thing from someone else. You know when you are walking and you hear someone else say something and it just clicks for you, that yes! That message was definitely for me. You know literally wind coming up to you with a message, because..sound…carries through air.

Oh and crows are also related to ancestors, so it might be that they are contacting you, or telling you something important. Maybe they have some ideas for you to create an impact on this world.

Now for your tarot cards,

Death, 9 of Cups, Ace of Swords, 3 of Pentacles, King of Pentacles and 8 of Pentacles

With all of this pentacle energy, I feel like whatever the eclipse is bringing you right now, its gonna be long term, or its gonna unfold over a long period of time.

There's something you have to let go of, or remove from your life in order to have greater emotional fulfillment. In reference to the snow angel as well, you're healing your inner child by taking up space in the snow, so it's sort of like you have to let go of that part of yourself which inhibits you from pursuing those things, you know that part of you which thinks “no ew its cringey” because you feel like you'll he judged, but in reality if you go and do that thing, it's gonna literally feel like you're enjoying it from deep within your soul.

The Ace of Swords also tells you that you are going to get a new idea, some sort of epiphany, which can help you in your career and generate alot of wealth for you as well.

You may come up with this idea on your own, and then partner up with someone (King of Pentacles) who already has some expertise in the area, or they have the resources to take your idea to the next level. At this time you might be getting constant downloads of ideas, or you'll be getting opportunities or signs about collaborations or partnerships.

Grab these opportunities with full force, you're gonna have a lot of fun!!!

Okay! This is all I have for you today! Thanks for reading <3

[gaybd1]

Chris rewatches and liveblogs the awful The Last Airbender movie for the first time since it was released 13 years ago

ok I saw this once when it was in theatres when I was in high school and I never watched it again. I remember being disappointed and uncomfortable originally

I only remember Aang was pronounced differently and Katara was some blonde chick I remember literally nothing else so here we go

oh damn ok right away the bending animation is kind of giving but the weird cursive stylization of the element names in the intro… not a fan bc my bad Chinese reading self can’t read it and I wonder if that’s even like a real style lol I wouldn’t be surprised either way

Also like just KEEP the TV intro instead of plagiarising but a little to the left?? sorry I know I’m nitpicking

Why are Katara and Sokka like MAGA-white that’s SO uncomfy

Sokka is not giving me the correct vibes

Why would Katara go with Sokka to go hunting?? p sure that happened in the cartoon too but ???

Already changing my mind about the costumes and possibly the Sokka vibes

Okay Aangs tattoos fuck actually

Okay yeah the tone of this whole thing is so boring I can’t put my finger on it yet like something is DEFINITELY missing

Okay yeah the costumes suck

ZUKO??? why is his hair so boring why is his scar so tiny

Gran Gran is white too?? but all the other villagers aren’t lololol okayyyyy

First impression of the sets (like the SWT village were good) but actually they suck they make ZERO sense there are just like open windows and no door?? But it’s cold outside???

OH NO what did this film do to Appa I’m so sorry sweetie look how they’ve massacred my boy

IS THAT UNCLE IROH IM AHSJDKLFNFGSJSKD

EEROH again I guess that’s more accurate but WHY

The vibes in this movie are all off lolol how did Nickelodeon endorse this?????

Still not sure why this feels so flat like I really don’t care about anything happening?? Maybe bc the original show is so character driven and this movie hasn’t even let us get to know any of the characters?? I remember thinking the first time I watched this that it moves way too fast so I guess this all could come down to a pacing problem

Gran Gran’s explanation to like send them after Aang makes no sense at all actually

I know they were trying to be like accurate with the costumes (a laugh tbh) but I do think it was a mistake to get rid of the color associations

MOMO OH NO I’m so sorry sweetie

Again with the air temple set, the vibes are right but it doesn’t look quite like anything I ever saw in SEA or in research...

The sequence where he finds out the airbenders are gone is pretty good. Seems they could do more with that than in the show but okay now he’s having some weird vision with a dragon????

Wait Soe-ka? Knock it off w the names I s2g where is the franchise continuity

Are the gonna explain the weird ass dragon vision??

The FN ships are so bad

Zhao is not creepy enough. Asshole enough though.

I KNOW I’m nitpicking but even the food seems wack

Weird that the firebenders seem to be only able to manipulate fire here, not create it

I do wonder about the authenticity of the costumes. I’ve heard they suck but I’d be fooled which begs the question, why not just BE authentic to the cultures they’re supposed to represent

Is it the acting that’s flat here, the writing, or the directing? Whose fault is it??

Interesting choice to have the earthbenders imprisoned within reach of their own element. I kind of like that, showing how defeated their spirits really are

Of course they gave away Katara’s motivational speech

These bending motions CANNOT be based on real martial arts lmfao it seems so clunky

Wild how I just don’t care about any of these characters lol

The writing isn’t ALL bad like I actually like the way different plot elements were connected for the sake of the movie but the execution is just so bad

Princess Yue leads the NWT? Again… a Choice

Wild how they are leaving the best episodes out of this narrative. Like the ones that gave the characters life

LOVE that there’s an African-inspired Earth Kingdom village, I’ve been thinking about this concept a lot actually

Why does the Fire nation look like that?? Why does Ozai look like that??? Why are we introducing Ozai already I don’t like that choice either???

I HATE the Fire Nation aesthetic SO MUCH

Ozai is not evil enough AT ALL

I DO like the creative directions they took w diversity in the Earth Kingdom like in different towns

AGNI KEE I’m

Aww lil Azula is cute

What a weird ass way to fit in Zuko’s backstory. Again, I don’t find myself caring about it at all

Starting to really hate the bending actually. The elements don’t seem to be interacting w the movements of the bender at all

The statue room looks cool

The dragon again wtfff

The Blue Spirit. Cool but it doesn’t hit as hard bc we don’t CARE about Zuko or his past and tbh it probs won’t make any sense to a casual viewer anyway

Also why does his mask need to come with a wig I mean it looks so unserious

Iroh just creeps me out idek why

OH we’re blowing up Zuko’s ship NOW okayyy

Aww some Sokka/Yue vibes but it’s a real shame I don’t give a shit about this version of Sokka

I think one reason I don’t like this version of bending is it takes so much handwavinv before anything even starts happening

Not digging this NWT aesthetic either tbh

Pakku??? Why does he look like cheap knock off Theodin? Why is he like… nice???

Why is Aang trying to talk to this Dragon Spirit and not like… Roku?

Wild how the one thing they left the same from the actual show was how Zuko snuck into the NWT lol

Hate the spirit oasis, actually

Least helpful Dragon Spirit ever

Cool that iroh is the one who can make fire out of nothing (he obviously taught Zuko) but lolol what a random time to do that

Okay the scene between Yue and Sokka before she turned into the moon was nice. Probably the most emotion we’ve seen in the whole movie

More morbid that her body is still there though lol

And no Ocean Spirit to fuck things up??

Drowning someone w waterbending is very dark but actually a great touch

I like this idea of Aang mourning his people and using that to harness his waterbending and then he can beat the FN on his own without a spirit’s help. That’s nice.

Also the music for that scene was nice. The only good soundtrack all movie too

So he’s just scaring them with water?? Lmaoooooo not even like killing anyone they just all ran away?? that’s actually…. A fucking terrible plot point never mind

Sweet he gets another chance to like. Accept his role as avatar and bow back to everyone?

AZULA

Okay yeah that was AWFUL

[taylorgraymoore]

December 5, 2023

Below is one more day from my online diary thingy, which I'm posting more regularly on my website (www.taylorgraymoore.com). If you like it, please take a look :D

I'm going to take a break from chronicling Montreal for now and try to catch up to the present, which is getting forgotten. And that forgets the whole point of the project. I need to wait to talk to someone about the next bit, anyway, and have time to chew on it. So, a break.

Anyway, here you go:

Today has been an eventful day, easily the most eventful of the trip so far: it’s nearly 4AM on the 6th now, and the day hasn’t ended. I just got back. I am well and drunk, and it’s far too late to write about any of this. Let me try again tomorrow, or later. Perhaps on the plane. I don’t know when the next time will be: this end of the trip is so compressed, and there is so much happening that these last days, as I look back at them (I’m back in Vancouver now, I couldn’t even finish this on the plane), and it feels like it should have been most of the trip. It was not—it was only the last 50 some-odd hours of a week long visit.

…

Almost everything after this point, this day and the next one at least, I finished after the fact. It got that busy. … So, the texture of the narrative will therefore be somewhat different—I don’t know how, but if I’m writing most of it in Vancouver who knows how long later, that will probably happen. It’s a memoir now, not a diary. Although I’ll still try to pretend—

Today is the day I promised to visit Tom in Lachine. Lachine is far—still technically Montreal proper, although this is only recently the case, but so far west it’s almost the airport, and, apart from passing through making my way to a plane, I have never been there. So I had to look up how to get there, and what time I had to leave if I wanted to get there, hang out a bit, and then get back out with reasonable time left in the evening. I have plans to get out to Verdun in the evening, you see—there’s somebody I want to see.

.I check this. I’ve checked it before, but I want to check again to be sure, and be more exact about it. Seems I’ll have to leave the apartment by 10:45—the earliest I’ve left to go anywhere so far—walk to the metro, get off at Lionel-Groulx and change to a bus. Not so complicated. But it’s a long trip, about an hour, and I always dislike unknown transfers, especially when the bus only comes every half an hour.

(It’s Friday, December 15th right now—the fourth day of waking up at 5am, and I’ve been editing this stuff at about 5pm every day this week, after coming home from the early shift I’ve been waking up at 5 for and settling in. It’s starting to get hard to do this, just from accumulated fatigue. And the texture of these texts is starting to turn into something more uncertain, less spontaneous. I’m less sure if I like it any more; I’m not sure if it’s still—and I HATE using this word but it’s the only one I know that gets the idea across—authentic to what it was meant to be. It’s starting to feel too much like fiction. I’m starting to worry too much about the plot, about scenes, about what I want to convey, and I’m going back and editing too much. I’m going to try to quit that a bit.)

I hadn’t seen Tom in… when was the last time I saw Tom? I don’t even remember. We weren’t so close, but I liked him. I was not always nice enough to him. It would be good to see him again. I had promised to see him before I knew he lived way out in Lachine, but that was fine—I like a good, long journey into the unknown. Fleshing out the map of the city a little. I’m a wanderer at heart, at least when I can do it by bus.

He offered to sell me back the copy of Animal Crossing that I sold him back in 2018, during the worst days at the end when I was selling everything off, mostly old games that I had never wanted to get rid of and wish I still had. (Oh, hey, that must’ve been the last time I’d seen him. Standing across from the old bathhouse at Bagg and St-Laurent waiting to meet him and exchange the game for, what was it, about thirty bucks? It was outside where, in the wee hours of the next morning, I would find that Matvey was saying. The world goes in these circles and places find their meaning that way). I said sure. I would be pleased to get it back—I’d give it to my mom, who had played it more than me. I wasn’t happy to sell a single one of those, and the idea of getting one of them, any of them, back is intensely cathartic. Like the quiet sort of emotional resolution you get at the end of a lot of quiet postmodern novels—a little bit of Earthly perfection.

I want to finish editing the last chapter of the novella before I go, and I do that easily—it’s only a couple of pages long, and I don’t have so many notes to copy out. Want to do that so much because I strongly suspect I will have no more time after I heard out the door that morning.

I have another time after I’m done to finish my coffee and get a 20 from the ATM in the dep directly below me, and then I’m off towards Mont-Royal metro through the snow that I’m already used to again. Enough has fallen and been packed now that I don’t slip so easily anymore. Make a quick phone call to home as I go up Rachel, then I turn onto St-Denis, thinking about how I had always wanted to spend more time on the street and how nice it feels to be walking along it now, and then I slip onto the metro and begin the journey proper. I zip underneath downtown and then out the other side.

Lionel-Groulx is a place I’ve never gone to much except to pass through. It’s where the bus from the airport lets you off, and where you catch it if you’re going out again. Sometimes I also got off here to go to the Super C by the Atwater Market, but that’s about it. I know there’s stuff around here, just the pattern of my life. I think I did go to a cafe near here once, just to have done it. But I associate it with comings and goings.

When I first arrived back after five years in exile, last May, I got out here. It has a power to it if only for that.

It’s one of my favourite stations design wise—looks pretty nice, I like the strange twisted tree sculpture with the faces, and it’s highly functional: an exchange station, the obvious transfers are made by just crossing the platform. Refreshing compared to all the walking in Berri-UQAM and not to mention the twisted labyrinth inside Jean-Talon. (I don’t know Snowdon enough to have an opinion.) Matt raves about it on his website: it’s truly excellent. … Let’s not talk too much about who its named after, other than to say he’s got a nice name.

There’s a bit of confusion when I surface from it, because the bus stop I need had been moved for… some reason that was not clarified. I cross Atwater towards a stop I at first think is what I want, only to find another closed stop. I turn around and see the bus appearing and about to turn towards what I realize is definitely the place I’m supposed to be. But the light changes, I bolt back across Atwater, and I join the line with plenty of time. I board. I sit. The bus pulls away and I water the world go by out the window as we follow the same path as that fabled bus to the airport until pulling out to go to Lachine.

Like I said, have never really been to Lachine. The airport bus passes along the top of it, although on the expressway so you don’t really see it, and I did get a better view on Uber ride once, which went along the streets of Lachine while trying to get me through the airport in time to catch a flight while the expressway was backed up with traffic.

The bus followed the same route as that Uber had for a short while, then turned onto Provost. I enjoy seeing previously unknown streets: it looks like how a lot of Montreal looks, but there are more single-floor detached homes. It’s a little like the South Shore, but not nearly that suburban. I watched a TV show filmed here once, and it looks enough like the East End for you to not notice it isn’t. But it is certainly more out of the way than where I’ve spent most of my time.

I get off at the stop Maps told me to get off at, and begin the trek through the snow to my end destination—one long Montreal block away. I pass a stop for the 90 St-Jacques, which is closer to where I’m going and also goes back to the metro. Maybe a better way to leave—and it goes through NDG, where there’s a bookstore I want to visit. Let’s look into that.

The address I’m headed for is the first building around the corner, when I turn. I walk up the steps and ring the apartment number I’d been given, get buzzed in.

Tom is as I remember him, more or less. Which isn’t a bad thing. We do the exchange for the game, he gets his twenty and the Animal Crossing goes into my bag, and then we sit and play some steam games. for an hour or two. It’s the most relaxed I’ve been in days. I do better than I thought I would, and I wish I did stuff like this more often. I note to myself I should see how many of these I can find on the Switch when I’m back in Van.

But then it’s time to go—we promise to add each other on switch, and I leave to catch that 90 St-Jacques bus. Which runs every fifteen minutes, not every half hour like the other one, apart from just plain being closer, and Tom agrees it’s the better way to go. I leave the building, turn the corner. The buss appears, passes me, pulls up to the stop. I break into a run, dunking under one or two tree branches without slowing down and praying I don’t slip. It sits there. I make it. I sit down to catch my breath—my lungs are still not exactly super happy, so I’m suffering a little—and see the useful digital sign telling me that I had five more minutes and so didn’t need to run.

It’s a more interesting bus route: the same way back along Provost, and then down 1re and Georges-V the way I came, but then instead of joining the Autoroute it instead goes under it and takes me through more that I’d never seen—through Ville St-Pierre and the bottom of Montreal West, along St-Jacques until I recognize Cavendish and here we are in familiar lands again. NDG: I spent a lot of time here, I was in a relationship with someone who lived here for years, and then I even lived here for a week at the very end of things. Even after I had come back to Montreal, it seemed like another thing entirely to go back to NDG, and I didn’t honestly expect to do it. But here I am—for the bookstore.

At Upper Lachine and Melrose I get off the bus. I walk up Melrose, through the tunnel under the tracks, and then continue until I eventually reach Sherbrooke West—which is exactly as I remember it. Why does it seem impossible that it still exists preserved? It should have collapsed like a false vacuum after I last passed by here on the 105. Like a fantasy world one wakes up from, like Koholint Island, gone.

But that’s silly; and nothing has changed. My favourite cafe there closed down during lockdown, but even that is the same on the outside—the sign is still up and everything, just the windows are papered over. I know this because I pass it on the bus when I leave, later, and I’m shocked to see that even that is the same. It must have been held suspended for me, so I could see it again and leave it properly, without fear and without distortion.

The reason why I’m here at all: Encore Books & Records. The third and last bookstore I’m going to to find the Okri book. … have they have it! I hadn’t even planned to come here. Must be fate. They have it, plus a couple of other books I want—Achebe’s No Longer at Ease, which I read shortly thereafter, and then I forget the other one—and a couple of records—Ville Emard Blues Band, plus a Christmas gift for someone—and I make myself glad that I brought a reusable tote back. I prolong my visit a bit longer, because I really did not expect to ever be back here. I take some pictures and send them to Mark, who would love it. Then—I really don’t want to be too late getting back—I head onwards. Walk out to the stop for the 105, wait a good ten minutes for it. Take the trip I remember so well back towards Vendome and the outside world, passing the shuttered Shaika and a past life as I go.

A version of myself died here in 2018. For years after, it really was hard to believe that my life had not somehow ended, that the life I was living in my present was in any way still my own. This bus ride reattaches that death to my continuing life. I don’t think that, then; that’s the artistry brought on by a later week’s reflection; when I disembark outside the totally reconstructed and unrecognizable Vendome, I’m only thinking of how hungry I am.

Back in the Plateau, I get off at Sherbrooke rather than Mont-Royal, so that, on the way back, I can stop off at Le Vieux Europe and get one of their sandwiches. It was on my list of places that I’d always wanted to go to but never did. I also like the walk better: I’m sick of the walk from Mont-Royal, and I want to see Carré St-Louis and the lower bits of the Plateau, I am happy to get to walk along des Pins E and along Roy, go past a not-yet-open Else’s and remember the good and the bad times had in there (mostly good; I only haven’t been there yet because I have decided to wait for Matvey, because it was his place more than mine…)

[crehador]

alphabet challenge 2023 round 2 final report

have made absolutely zero progress in cutting down my planning list (in fact i think it’s longer than when i started this round lol) but watched another 11 one-cour anime, 2 tv shorts, and 1 movie

full list with some thoughts here, three most notable series under the cut (beware spoilers)

actual best: gotta give this one to hourou musuko with the caveat that i do think it’s an imperfect adaptation, and i suspect it most shines in its original manga form (which i haven’t read yet but look forward to checking out one day)

it’s very possible i just haven’t read/watched broadly enough, but off the top of my head i can’t think of a more sincere and real portrayal of trans adolescence (or just transness in general, honestly) in animanga

i think in my notes i called it something like messy and clumsy, and i meant that in a good way; it’s messy and clumsy in ways that feel authentic and even deliberate, though for sure some parts of that are due to limits of the adaptation

the anime does imo get off to a somewhat disorienting start, we’re dropped straight into the lives of these kids who already have a deeply complicated past with one another, and it takes some time for that past to take shape

being told chronologically might have helped this story (and maybe the manga does do that) but it still felt like a very solid adaptation despite its shortcomings, and its strengths more than made up for its weaknesses (which i feel weren’t the fault of the story but rather the production, like with two of the final episodes being condensed into one for airing before being released in full as specials? yeah that doesn’t sound ideal)

personal fave: was pleasantly surprised and very entertained by id:invaded! it’s very inception-esque, and i don’t mean just because of the diving into someone’s (sub)consciousness and dream (well) within a dream (well) stuff

i’ve always felt like inception had a solid story but blank slate cast, as in its characters all filled specific functions and archetypes but weren’t really the most nuanced or... characterized, so to speak (and imo that’s why they were so easily fandomizable, so i don’t actually think it’s a bad thing that they just did what they were put there to do)

id:invaded makes me feel the same way, in that the plot itself is much stronger than the cast, though i imagine if it had been a two-cour series it would have used its additional time well and fleshed out the cast some more

it’s very easy to compare id:invaded to psycho-pass as well, and while i’d say in terms of plot/mystery/worldbuilding they’re almost on equal footing, psycho-pass does way more and way better with its characters (but of course psycho-pass had a lot more time)

that said, i did still like the characters of id:invaded, they were just fleshed out enough for you to start projecting your own ideas onto them, and the more they marinated in my head the more i enjoyed them (though for reasons that largely weren’t on the page tbh)

this one was honestly a strong contender for ‘actual best’ as well, because i think there are some things it did incredibly well, like not underestimating the viewer and over-telling in its writing

like you’ve got id wells (the pun of which, by the way, i felt the subs did a great job of explaining fluidly) and you’ve got kaeru-chan in the id wells, and the show never shoves the frog in a well imagery into your face, it doesn’t bother to go “you know *wink wink nudge nudge* like the proverb” it lets you put some of these things together yourself

(similarly, really loved that they didn’t outright say fukuda got all his piercings before putting a hole in his head, they let you imagine it yourself, how he must have gotten piercing after piercing and they never felt like enough, it’s just better to not have that stated outright, the obvious conclusions are obvious enough)

biggest disappointment: seikaisuru kado solely for the ending and i’m not even talking about the deaths or anything (ryo expy should kill akira expy after all) it was just a rushed and poorly written, poorly executed ending that brought an overall good series crashing down

[whump-a-la-mode]

I am once again asking for continuation to hero breaking villain out of prison and comfort for the villain

After so much hurt, I definitely agree that Villain deserves some comfort! I got two requests for this as well.

I might respond to this one from @starnight-whump separately though-- I'm loving writing comfort for our poor Villain! For now, they're getting some much needed physical affection.

This is a continuation from here. Part two is here and part one is here.

CW//Past trauma, medical exams, touch aversion, screaming

It was a horrible decision.

Of course it had been a horrible decision. Going to the prison in the first place had been a horrible decision, so had accepting Leader's offer to 'view' one of their caged up zoo animals. The whole night had been a series of one mistake after another.

And now...

Now Hero stood outside an apartment door, chest fluttering with a mix of nerves and embarrassment, the likes of which they had not felt for a very, very long time. A half-limp body was tucked against their chest, weak hands gripping their shirt like a lifeline. That was the only thing Villain had done for the whole walk here-- held onto Hero's shirt, head buried in their shoulder.

With a nervous flick of their tongue over their lips, Hero reached forth, knocking on the door. Villain shifted and struggled as the extra support was removed, but calmed once more when Hero wrapped their arm back around them.

For a few moments, there was silence.

Silence as dead as that that they had been surrounded by upon escaping the vicinity of the prison. The pregnant pause of indecision.

Of course, it had been Hero's first instinct to head home. To return to their bedroom, return to where they had been before their life had been turned upon its head. There was enough room was Villain, enough food and water, assuming they still understood what those were.

But... That wasn't an option. Leader may have been a monster, but they weren't stupid. Hero's apartment is the first place they would look. If they brought Villain there, they may as well already have been recaptured.

So, Hero had come up with a Plan B.

The doorknob turned, the door nervously being drawn open.

"Hero?"

If they had had the free hand to do so, Hero would have waved, but they didn't want to risk Villain squirming around again.

So, instead, they decided to reply like an awkward idiot.

"Uh, long time no see?"

"Yyyes. Come in, come in. We can't talk out here."

Doctor retreated within their apartment, Hero hot on their heels. The door was quickly closed behind, the nervous doctor securing a number of custom-installed locks upon it.

The smell of the apartment hadn't changed one bit. A fog of heavy nostalgia threatened to take over Hero's brain. How many times had they staggered in here after a battle, before there was an Organization, before there were any real doctors to help? More times than they could count, certainly.

"Sit." Doctor insisted, and Hero certainly wasn't about to refuse. They settled onto a worn, beige sofa, dark spots showing where blood stains refused to be washed out.

Villain gripped Hero's shirt tighter.

"Okay." The doctor took a deep breath before exhaling. There was no frustration in their voice-- there never was-- but nerves made their vocal chords strain just the same. There was warmth in their expression, joy at seeing an old friend, but it was overcast. "Please don't tell me you did something stupid."

"I may have done something stupid."

"Okay. How stupid?" Doctor blinked, not waiting for an answer, before their gaze shifted to Villain. "I assume it has to do with them?"

"Yyyeah."

"What did you do?"

"I may have broken them out of prison."

A pause.

"You broke them out of prison."

"Yeah."

"I was honestly expecting something worse. That's still bad, but... Are you hurt? Are they hurt?"

"I'm fine." Hero shook their head. "As for them, I'm not sure. I haven't looked."

"Then... I mean, I'm glad you're here, but what do you need my help with?"

"I think something is wrong with them."

"Hm." Doctor hummed, gaze turning once more to Villain. "Hey, bud, what's your name?"

Nothing.

"What's your name, bud?"

Villain did not so much as twitch.

"There's something wrong with them." Hero dipped their head.

"Are they asleep?"

"No? Well, I don't think so."

"What exactly is wrong with them?"

Hero bit their lip, hand stroking along Villain's tense back. What was wrong with them? A lot of things, clearly, but what specifically? They didn't seem drugged, and they were clearly conscious, but their behavior was anything but normal.

"Um... Well, they've been locked in a soundless prison cell, alone, for over a year."

"Oh. Oh, shit."

"Which I assume is pretty bad."

"Yes, it's bad. Really, really bad."

Hero's hand stopped mid-stroke, pressing reassuringly into Villain's shoulder.

"Can you help them?" The words came out as a breathless whisper.

"I can try."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Doctor's exam room was probably the last thing anyone would have expected to see in a tiny inner-city apartment.

It wasn't completely sterile, not like one would expect in a real hospital. The carpet had been replaced by tile, but the wallpaper and ceiling remained the same as the rest of the apartment. The metal exam table in the center contained no fancy gadgets, consisting of little more than a stainless steel slab and a pillow wrapped in plastic. At the very least, the cupboards and hanging pieces of medical equipment provided some sense of authenticity to the setup.

"We're going to need to get them onto the table." Doctor nodded, strolling into the room before shutting the door behind themself. "Do you think they can sit up on their own?"

"They were earlier."

"Then put them on the table, please. I'll need to get a better look."

Hero nodded. The limp body they carried did not seem to react to the words. They seemed so comfortable, so desperate to stay in their grasp-- but Doctor knew what they were talking about.

Prying Villain off of their shirt was an effort in and of itself. Once their grip was finally released, they hung in the air like dead weight, allowing themself to be placed on the table without fight. Not that they were aware enough to struggle-- their eyes still sat blank, like staring back at a piece of taxidermy.

"Can you see the problem?" Hero asked impatiently.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... They're acting so weird. There's gotta be something wrong with them, right? Did they hit their head? I don't see a bruise..."

Doctor looked to Hero. Why was there such pity in their gaze?

"Hero..." They exhaled. "Physically, your friend here looks fine. They could benefit from putting on a bit more weight, but otherwise..."

"They're not hurt?"

"No."

"Then..."

"Whatever is going on with them, it's in their mind. Hero, who is this?"

"It was Villain. One of the villains."

"And they were alone for so long."

Hero nodded feebly.

"Is there some kind of... some kind of medicine? Or treatment? To wake them up? To make them themself again?"

"No. No, Hero." A pitied shake of the head. "This isn't sickness. This isn't injury. This is trauma."

"Someone hurt them?"

"The opposite. Being that isolated for that long, it does something to the brain."

"They..."

"This happened slowly." This time, Doctor nodded, as though answering a question Hero hadn't even known they had. "Over months, probably. Solitude and silence, it broke them."

That was what Villain was. Not hurt, not injured, not sick. Broken. The very core of them, shattered into nothing, and without a single wound being inflicted.

They were staring at Hero. Almost. Their eyes were positioned in that direction, but they weren't looking at anything at all. There was simply nothing there.

"Can we fix it?" That was what mattered. Villain had been broken-- were there enough pieces left to put them back together again?

"We can try. But that's not going to be quick. Putting them back together, helping them, it's going to be no quicker a process than that which broke them in the first place. Right now, we need to make sure that, physically, they're okay."

"Mhm." Hero nodded, the reality of the situation beginning to sink in in all its terrible detail. "What first?"

"Medical exam. If no one has looked at them in a year... Well, we need to do that."

"Okay. What then?"

"Then, we give them a bath. And some fresh clothes. They smell terrible. But right now, I need to make sure they're okay. Keep them on the table."

"I don't think they're going anywhere soon."

"Fair." Doctor turned, rolling a metal stand out from the corner, a monitor on its top and a plastic cuff hanging from it. They positioned the blood pressure monitor next to the table, undoing the cuff and holding it in one hand. With the other, they gripped Villain's wrist-

The screaming was somehow louder this time, loud enough to make the doctor leap back in surprise. A moment after they removed their hand, it stopped, leaving Villain sobbing and gasping for breath.

Doctor looked to Hero wordlessly.

"They did that when I first touched them too. I think they're just scared. It's okay, Villain." They tried to coax. "Try again."

The doctor bit their lip, but obliged, moving forward to again place their hand-

It was a more shrill shriek, this time, like that of a dying seal.

"Okay. Okay." Doctor breathed, hands outstretched in a defensive position. "Can.. Will they let you touch them?"

Hero tentatively reached forth, a hand upon Villain's wrist. The only reaction they were met with was that of a slight twitch.

"Well." Doctor muttered. "Then there's only one way we can do this."

"What?"

"You're going to have to play doctor."

"I'm not-"

"I know. I'll guide you through it. Put the blood pressure cuff on."

"Are you sure about this?"

"What matters most is their health. What matters second most is their comfort. If this is the way they want it done, we'll do it."

Hero nodded. "Where does the cuff go?"

"Upper arm. Make sure its tight enough to stay on, but not too tight."

It was just a cuff, right? It couldn't be that hard. They took the blood pressure cuff in hand, wrapping it taut around Villain's upper arm. They twitched, but did not protest.

The machine buzzed, the cuff inflating until the surrounding parts of Villain's skin grew red. Hero felt their heart flutter, as though they should help, before the machine made a satisfied noise and released its hold.

"It's high." Doctor reported. "But within a normal range. They're scared, but not sick."

"What next?"

"Eyes. I can probably do that, it doesn't involve direct touch."

Doctor positioned themself before Villain, a small light in hand. They leaned forward, but did not touch their patient.

The light was raised to Villain's eye. For a moment, they were still, before a whimper tore itself from their throat. They closed their eyes, looking ever so slightly away as they wrapped their arms around themself.

"Hey, hey." Hero didn't even notice that they were shoving the doctor out of the way until they'd already done so. "Sorry."

"It's fine."

"Villain, it's okay. It's okay. I'm right here."

Villain opened their eyes-- for the first time, they truly opened their eyes. Wide pupils looked at Hero, quivering lips seeming as though they wanted to speak. Instead, Villain raised their arms, weakly grasping for the person before them.

Hero obliged, picking them up with ease and holding them to their chest. They relaxed in a moment.

"Uh, Doctor?" Hero flushed. "Is it okay if they spend the rest of the exam in my lap?"

Doctor bit their lip, but nodded.

"If that's what will make them the most comfortable. Hold them still, let's check their hearing next."

Hero nodded their agreement, turning Villain around so that they faced towards the doctor. With a gentle hand in their hair, they whispered:

"This is only gonna take a minute, I promise. Then you're gonna get a bath and be all warm and clean. Just hold still for me, okay?"

Villain whimpered, and leaned closer to their new caretaker.

[charmingyong]

Sukidesu

Genre: local!Yuta x tourist!reader (gender neutral), fluff, a dash of angst

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.9k

Plot: You went on a solo trip to Japan after your friend backed out, despite the fact that you barely knew Japanese as you were relying on your friend to be your translator. Thankfully, a local boy helped you out with his limited vocabulary in English.

A/N: in loving memory of my japan trip that got cancelled last year (eff you covid!!) Please let me know if there are any issues with the gender-neutral assignment.

gif: mine

- ❀ -

“I’m really so so sorry, Y/N. I feel so bad,” Aeri said over the phone.

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine. And I’m always down for a challenge.”

Aeri being the one who planned the trip was upset that her boss decided to be rude and have her come in for work, stressing about her presence being needed to handle a very important client. “I swear, I would have handed my resignation letter if it weren’t for the good pay.”

You rolled your eyes at her words. “Don’t say that. I’m sure we can go again together in the future.”

“Yeah, but are you really okay going alone? You don’t even know any Japanese except for like four words or something.”

She was right. You had only picked up a few words from the handful of anime shows you watched, not to mention that you knew nothing on how to read any of the writing systems. “I have the translator ready on my phone. I should be fine.” Though your confidence wavered the last second before hearing the boarding announcement of your flight, you tried to remain strong and think that everything would all work out. “It’s time for me to go now. I’ll text you when I get there.”

- ❀ -

[Memory one]

You let out a long sigh as you stared at the foreign characters on the menu board, never learning any of the Japanese writing systems. The lady owner patiently waited for you to give her your order.

“I… I don’t know,” you muttered, your head hanging low. Anything would do as long as it filled your stomach and was an authentic local specialty.

“Um hello?”

You heard from behind you. Turning around, you found a boy giving you a shy look. “Oh hi,” you politely greeted back with a confused look.

He shifted on his feet. “I uh... you help?” he offered with an unsure tone as he struggled a bit with his broken English.

“You want to help me?”

He nodded.

You smiled gratefully. “Thank you so much! I just want anything good and will add to my experience here.”

“Good?” The boy picked up and said, “I...” and lost his words before pointing at him and then at the owner.

“Oh, you want to order for me?”

He hesitated but nodded eventually when hearing ‘for me.’ “Yes.” The boy turned to the lady, placing an order with two fingers held up. The lady smiled and quickly got to work preparing the round fried food, and soon enough handed two plates of takoyaki to each of you.

You thanked her and took a bit of it with your chopsticks, eyes going wide with the flavour bursting in your mouth. “Woah! This is really good!” you beamed happily at him. “Thank you so much! And oh, I almost forgot. I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself with a wide grin.

He mirrored it back, making him look like an angel with his healing smile. “I Yuta.”

- ❀ -

[Memory two]

“So cool,” you uttered under your breath as your eyes wandered around the vast array of Japanese sandals on the walls.

Too busy deciding which style to go for, you didn’t hear another customer enter the small traditional shop until they spoke your name.

“Y/N?” The voice was familiar, and you twirled around to see Yuta’s smile grow, relieved that he guessed you right.

“Oh! Yuta!” you smiled back. “It’s nice to see you again.”

He nodded in agreement. “Yes. How... are you?”

“I’m great, except...” your eyes traveled back to the wall.

His face fell slightly in worry. “What wrong?”

You shook your head. “Nothing bad. I just don’t know which pair to buy. They all look so good,” you pointed to the variety of sandals.

He hummed and asked, “Can I help?”

You blinked at him. “You want to?” An opinion from the local cute boy was definitely something you’d be down for.

His pearly whites were on full display as he nodded eagerly. “Yes.”

- ❀ -

[Memory three]

Just as your eyes were fixed on observing the cute little souvenirs on the shelves, you heard a series of loud knocks on the window and you jumped, being startled greatly by it. You looked out the window and found a familiar Japanese boy peeking into the shop, laughing happily when he caught your attention. He backed off to make his way into the shop.

“Yuta, you scared me there,” you laughed it off.

He sheepishly apologized. “Sorry.”

Shaking your head, you said “It’s okay. But it’s nice to see you, once again.”

He nodded and was lost in his thoughts for a moment. “Um Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“You alone?”

You nodded. “Yeah, my friend couldn’t come, and I really wanted to explore Japan. So I came alone.”

He took in your words, his brain on full gear to process them. “Can I help?”

“Help? Like how?”

He pointed at himself. “I... uh travel... you...”

It took you a few seconds before you were able to grasp his thought. “Do you want to be my tour guide and show me around here?”

“Ah! Yes. Your tour guide,” he beamed excitedly like a little child who learned a new word.

That sounded like a great idea. While you had the itinerary that you and your friend prepared, you weren’t dead set on doing everything list there as long as you were able to enjoy your time and explore to your heart’s content. After all, you were going to come back anyway with your friend in the future. And a plus point with having Yuta as a guide, you wouldn’t be struggling with your limited Japanese ability.

You nodded, your lips curling up joyfully. “I’d love that.”

- ❀ -

[Memory four]

“Yuta? Where’s-”

You had probably asked the Japanese boy a million things by now when shopping inside the variety store. Before Yuta became your traveling buddy, you had to rely on capturing the Japanese writings on your phone and have the texts translated via an app. Not to mention having to stroll down the aisles endlessly looking for a particular thing.

He showed you the ramen cups of interest as well as recommended some face masks, cleansing tissues, and sweet treats, especially matcha flavoured. “This good,” he pointed out.

You hummed curiously and put them all in your basket. “Thanks, Yuta. You’re a lifesaver.”

His ears perked up at the thought of him ‘saving your life’ and smiled proudly.

- ❀ -

[Memory five]

“You sure you’re doing it right?” you asked worriedly.

Getting lost in Japan was not on your to-do list. But it was fine to as long as you weren’t alone.

Yuta was trying to figure out how to get the tickets printed at the Kyoto Station. “Long time,” he chuckled nervously.

Going around Kyoto was apparently something he hadn’t done in a while being an Osaka man. You shrugged, “Looks like this will be an experience for both of us,” you joked.

He managed to have gotten the right tickets and you two sat in the train side by side. “Kyoto pretty,” he commented. “Very good,” he added with thumbs up.

The train began moving and you by the window made sure to pay attention to the scenery.

“Wow! The cherry blossoms are so beautiful under the blue sky,” you chatted cheerfully. “And those houses look so pretty,” you gushed, getting anime vibes from how neighbourhoods looked in them.

Yuta watched you getting excited over the sceneries, and was pleased to show you something that wasn’t on your itinerary in the first place.

- ❀ -

[Memory six]

Yuta watched you closely as you licked the matcha soft serve in hand.

You let the cold cream swirl around your tongue and hummed. “Wow, this is nice!”

He beamed, squealing as he clapped his hands from the happiness. “Yes,” he exclaimed. “My favourite,” he pointed to your cone.

The cream got stuck in your throat and you choked a little. His eyes grew concerned and asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah yeah, don’t worry. It’s just... you look so cute when you get happy like that,” you spoke a little shy.

He blushed deeply and looked away, a smile threatening to tug at his lips from hearing you call him cute.

- ❀ -

[Memory seven]

Ferris wheel.

The perfect way to end your trip by looking out into the nighttime view of Yuta’s hometown.

He sat across from you as you curiously looked at every lighting in the city. “Wow, it’s all so really beautiful, Yuta,” you breathed out.

His smile wasn’t his usual one. It was more forced, almost sad and you noticed it.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook out of his thoughts and said, “Nothing. Um... you like Japan?”

A fond smile took over your features. “Yes, very much. It’s all thanks to you, Yuta.” Your heart started aching at the memories made during your trip. If it weren’t for him, you would have struggled to get through with the littlest things.

He hummed and gave you a courteous smile before fixing his eyes out the transparent windows of the cart, silently willing himself to not tear up in front of you.

- ❀ -

[Memory eight]

Tears threatened to spill out of your eyes as you became emotional and super grateful standing in front of your personal Japan tour guide for one last time at the airport.

“Thank you so much for all your help, Yuta. It was really nice meeting you,” you smiled sorrowfully. Truth being told, you were sad that you had to say goodbye to an amazing friend made on your beautiful journey. “Let’s keep in touch. You have my contact, right?”

He nodded. “Yes. Um Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Yuta dug his hand inside his pocket and pulled out a cherry blossom keychain. “For you,” he said, holding it out for to take.

You were speechless, not expecting a gift from him. “For me? Why?”

He was quiet for a moment before speaking up. “I like you.” His confession caught you by surprise. “I hope you come back. I... I hope we still talk...” he trailed off, doubting himself if he said the right thing at the wrong time, considering it was minutes before you’d have to catch your flight.

Slowly, your head nodded to his words, confirming them all. “We will. We will keep in touch, I’ll come back again. And I like you too,” you spoke sincerely with soft eyes.

- ❀ -

You reminisced the beautiful memories made in Japan with Yuta. It had been almost a year and the two of you were in frequent touch, talking about anything and everything in your video calls. You even learned some Japanese while he worked on improving his English.

While your eyes were focused on glancing at all the people sitting in the cafe, the door chimed open and in walked the Japanese boy that you had been waiting forever to see again.

He spotted you immediately and made a straight beeline towards you. “Y/N!” He beamed excitedly. “I’m so happy to see you again!”

You laughed at his cuteness. “Same, and you’ve gotten better speaking English.”

“All thanks to my beautiful English teacher,” he flirted boldly.

You rolled your eyes playfully at him and asked, “So Yuta, are you ready to explore my country?”

[aspoonofsugar]

The “One” Divided Into “Two”

Hello anons, hello friend,

these asks can be answered together!

First of all:

Hello! I just want to say that I love your RWBY metas! So I'm wondering, have you ever done metas about Emerald and Mercury?

Thank you! And yes, I have written a little bit about Mercury and Emerald here. I would also recommend this wonderful meta by @hamliet because it has an interesting Mercury theory in it.

Now. this answer is gonna mix some analysis with speculation because Emerald and Mercury’s story must still enter its climax. Once it does and we are given a specific interpretative key I will be happy to write more metas on them!

I’ll start with this:

Those two are so out of place in Salem's faction and the last look they share made me doubt that Mercury is rotten to the core and more of a kid who didnt know what he's in for. Since Em has switched sides, is it possible that Merc might follow? I really like him, so I'm hoping that he won't go down like Watts.

In my opinion, yes and here is why.

CHILDREN LOST IN A NARRATIVE

1) Emerald and Mercury have been child-coded since their first appearance:

Roman: Oh, look! She sent the kids again! This is turning out just like the divorce!

2) Both have received a save the cat moment early on:

Emerald: It's almost sad.

Mercury: Emerald, get up, we need to go. (...) Emerald!

Both child-coding and save the cat moments are often used to make characters more sympathetic and this applies to both Emerald and Mercury, even more so than Cinder.

This is why, for example, the major death they are directly involved in:

turns out to be a temporary one.

As a side note, I like thinking of Emerald and Mercury as the Cat and the Fox in Penny’s story since they act as false friends to the main cast, betray them and cause Penny’s first death. Moreover, in the novel, both characters end up suffering consequences for their life-styles. The two murder kids are the same:

At the same time, details about Emerald and Mercury’s backgrounds and motivations are given to the viewers pretty early on:

We are shown Cinder recruiting both and these scenes clearly paint them as two vulnerable kids that get manipulated and groomed:

Raven: Two children you’ve tricked into following you.

Emerald is presented as a scaredy cat and Cinder wins her over by promising the bare minumum aka some security and basic care.

Mercury is given even less aka a narrative to keep himself together:

Cinder: And you're his son. We saw your fight from the treeline. He's taught you well.

Mercury: Guess so.

Cinder: What's your name?

Mercury: Mercury.

Cinder: Mercury... Tell me, are you anything like your father?

Mercury: All my life, my father trained me to be a killer, an assassin like him. And then moments after I killed him, you two showed up looking for someone with my exact skills. Just felt like it was meant to be.

Cinder praises his abilities and frames his trauma as something that makes him strong, not broken. And Mercury has completely embraced this narrative since then.

In short, Emerald and Mercury are framed as two kids lost in an illusory narrative Cinder has crafted. That said, they are also characters in a proper narrative and they are given sympathetic backgrounds and positive qualities that hint they can be better than they currently are.

In particular, Emerald should overcome her emotional dependence on others to make the right thing:

In both volume 3 and volume 8 she is shown the destruction of a city. However, the first time she puts distance between herself and others’ pain, as symbolically conveyed by her looking from above. In volume 8, though, she is shown the same pain up close and she can’t ignore it anymore. This is why the others drag Emerald towards the people crying and light invades the screen when she finally meets the sheltered crew. She is forced to face an uncomfortable truth she wants to ignore.

Mercury should instead let himself depend on others more. He should open up to others and fight for his one positive bond:

Mercury: Back off, freak.

Which leads us to:

What do you like most about Emerald and Mercury's relationship and bond as it is explored in RWBY?

EMERCURY: COMPLEMENTARITY

Emerald and Mercury’s bond being a key one is conveyed both symbolically and in terms of their respective abilities.

When it comes to their abilities, I have written about it in the meta linked above:

In short, Emerald mostly relies on her semblance, while Mercury mostly relies on his legs and fighting prowess.

This detail adds to the idea that Emerald and Mercury have been acting as a unit and have been complementing each other. Emerald acts as the “soul” and Mercury as the “body”.

The soul is one’s personal essence (like the semblance). It is where (once again) wishes reside. The body is what protects the soul and is animated by instincts and self-survival.

They complement each other. This complementarity is shown in Emerald and Mercury’s fights.

In the Vytal festival, Mercury takes on both Coco and Yatsuhashi for a short while, so that Emerald can size her chance to fight Coco at her own terms (and she wins by using her semblance).

In the Battle of Heaven, Emerald uses her semblance to help Mercury fight and, in a sense, she compensates for his lack of one:

The human soul is about wishes, but also duties:

Penny: I feel like I wish I could do both the things I need to do and the things I want to do. Is that normal?

One must accept their feelings, but also struggle with them:

Winter: But yes Penny, we must still acknowledge our personal feelings, wrestle with them. It ensures us that we’re on the right path. It’s what makes us human.

And must do the right thing out of their own free will:

Winter: Penny. The general is making hard choices so we don’t have to.

This is Emerald’s personal struggle. She must let go of her feelings for Cinder and fight her own fear in order to do the right thing.

The human body lets people feel both others’ warmth:

And others’ cruelty:

However, Mercury refuses to feel both. He refuses to truly process his own trauma and pushes his feelings of care for Emerald away:

As far as their symbolism goes, they are linked in at least three different ways.

1) One of the attributes of the Roman god Mercury is that he is the protector of thieves and Emerald’s surname capitalized means thief. What is more:

Mercury: Ooh, Emerald! Master thief! Please don't take my money! I barely have enough to get by!

2) Mercury/Hermes is also the god of alchemy and the one who wrote the Emerald Tablet aka a tablet with the truth of alchemy on it. You, @hamliet​, have written a meta on it, so I won’t add more.

3) According to at least some traditions, emerald is the gemstone associated with the planet Mercury.

So, it is clear the two characters are meant to be important in each other’s arcs.

Let’s now look at Emerald and Mercury’s bond, as it is explored through their interactions.

Mercury clearly cares about Emerald and gets along well with her. She is the only person he shows vulnerability to.

This is what their scene in Lost is about:

Emerald: Why did you come with us, the night Cinder and I found you?

Mercury: Why are you asking--

Emerald: Just answer the question.

Emerald is trying to open herself up and wants Mercury to open up too. This is why she gets annoyed when Mercury gives her a superficial answer. Still, in that conversation, Mercury is genuinelly trying to answer Emerald’s feelings:

Mercury: I'm sorry you didn't have a mommy that loved you, but I had a father who hated me! He never went easy on me! Every day of training was a beating. And when I unlocked my Semblance, he stole it with his! "This is a crutch!" "This makes you weak!" He told me I could have it back when I was strong. So I got strong, but I never got it back! I've had to work harder than anyone to get where I am. You may not like it here without Cinder, but I think I'm right where I'm supposed to be!

Here, Mercury is telling Emerald details of his past he would not be sharing if he did not trust her. He can’t let himself be completely vulnerable, though, so he discloses them by lashing out at Emerald. He mixes violence with authentic vulnerability and also with care:

Mercury: Cinder doesn't care about you! She doesn't care about either of us!

He has seen how self-destructive Emerald can get when it comes to Cinder:

And he is trying to have Emerald move on from her obsession.

However, Mercury’s small steps towards opening up and caring for another person are constantly challenged:

Tyrian: Oh yes, the world is mean, and I'm a big, bad man now just like the others.

Mercury: How long have you been standing there?!

The moment he opens up to Emerald, Tyrian appears to threathen and mock him.

Mercury’s positive development lies in accepting his own feelings of pain and in sharing them with others, so that he can be helped. However, the environment he is in goes in the way of it:

Emerald: Mercury, I wanted to...

Here, Emerald is trying to either apologize to Mercury for their fight or to at least check out on him. Still, Mercury is not listening to her because he is too frightened by what Salem is doing.

Mercury’s current struggle is conveyed in a nutshell by the glance he gives to his left in Midnight:

Is he looking at Emerald out of concern?

Or at Salem out of caution?

It is not clear. Still, what is sure is that Mercury should focus on Emerald, but Salem goes in the way. He deep down wants to care about others, but he is too scared to do so:

Tyrian: All you ever learned was pain and violence, and now you're too afraid to leave it. Such a tragedy.

At the same time, Mercury is for Emerald what she has been looking for in Cinder:

Emerald: We don't need him! Everything was going fine!

She initially refuses him, but it is clear that with time Mercury becomes the thing most similar to a family Emerald has:

She has been so fixated on Cinder and on how she can be worthy of Cinder’s love that she has missed how much Mercury has tried to protect her all along.

This is why Hazel is important for Emerald’s development:

Hazel: No more Gretchens, boy.

His sacrifice is about breaking his personal cycle of pain. His story starts with Gretchen dying when she was only a girl and it ends with him preventing another girl’s death. At the same time, he also helps breaking the cyle of abuse between Emerald and Cinder.

Emerald is told the truth about her relationship with Cinder by Mercury. Moreover, it seems something finally clicks for her here:

She observes Salem’s manipulation of Cinder and understands Cinder has been manipulating her in the same way.

However, it is thanks to Hazel’s sacrifice that Emerald sees what a genuine parental bond should be like. It should be about the parent protecting the child:

Hazel: What Gretchen would have done. And that starts with getting you away from here. Both of you.

And not the child protecting the parent:

Emerald: I know I can’t beat you. But I can fill that thing full of holes before you take me down.

It should be about the parent caring for the child unconditionally:

Hazel: Go.

And not about the child working hard to gain a parent’s love:

Cinder: You… You brought me back here. We failed.

Emerald: Cinder, you were hurt. I was just trying to help.

At the same time, Hazel’s death has taught Emerald the pain of losing a loved one:

And has forced Emerald to stand on her own two legs:

Oscar: I've seen what you can do, Emerald. However this fight ends, we could really use someone like you.

She can’t be protected forever, but she should start protecting others. She is powerful enough to do so and she must accept this responsibility.

So

I think Emerald could be key to Mercury's redemption

I think so too. Emerald saving Mercury is the perfect objective for her personal arc. It forces her to act as the savior instead of the one being saved.

Moreover, Mercury told her the truth about herself:

Mercury: You're in denial.

So Emerald might do the same for Mercury. This would also fit with her being the Emerald Tablet. The Tablet is written by Mercury to convey the truth to the world. Here, it might very well be the inverse: the Emerald Tablet might convey the truth to Mercury.

In general, Mercury and Tyrian’s foiling has to pay off, just like Emerald and Hazel’s:

The set-up is there for Tyrian and Mercury’s subplot to be about breaking cycles as well. Mercury’s story is about a child left alone with his abuser. Nobody comes to save him, so Mercury is forced to save himself by killing Marcus. Still, this only leads to him being stuck in the idea he is nothing, but an extension of his father. Right now, the cycle is repeating, but it is possible this time things will go differently because there is at least one person who cares about him.

Not only that, but (and this is nothing, but a baseless theory) even Qrow (aka a character who has unfinished business with Tyrian) might be a thematic fit to help Mercury:

Mercury: Bad hair, used a scythe, and smelled like my dad after a long day. It was him.

After all, Mercury himself draws a comparison between Qrow and his father since they are both alcoholic. However, Qrow has started a journey of rehabilitation for the sake of his nieces and their friends.

Qrow sees himself as bad for others and fundamentally unlucky because of his background and his semblance. So, his third fight with Tyrian being about saving a kid, who, in a sense, is even less lucky than him and has no semblance might be thematically fitting.

Despite it all, Qrow found a family and a place to belong and he might help Mercury find his (Emerald) as well.

SEMBLANCE OF THE SELF

Got no gun But I gleam like a blade and I'm harder than iron

Delusion I'll steal til your blind and defeat you from inside your mind

Emerald’s best weapon is her semblance, while Mercury’s semblance was stolen, so he could become a weapon.

This difference symbolizes their respective reactions to abuse.

Emerald uses her illusions as a coping mechanism.

This mechanism is well conveyed in CEM’s fight against Amber:

On one hand, Emerald creates a child version of herself who is well dressed and owns a bike. It is a rich version of Emerald because she must think that is the kind of child others would stop by to help. She does not believe she is likable or lovable. This is why she makes an illusory alter-ego, which is both true (she deep down is a crying child) and false (she is a street rat with nothing).

In general, this is Emerald’s way to approach others:

Emerald: Just left the stadium after your amazing fight! You guys were awesome!

Ren: Because she's scared. Just like us..

Emerald: Or maybe because I know how to get out of here. Anybody coming?

She either fakes an overly friendly demeanor or acts tougher than she is. In any case, she hides her true self.

On the other hand, Emerald is symbolically trapping herself in an illusion together with Amber. Amber can’t see the dangerous thief in front of her, but Emerald too can’t see the generous woman who is offering food to a crying child:

Cinder: Follow me, and you’ll never be hungry again.

Cinder promises Emerald food and love and this lie makes the girl unable  to see the genuine article when it is right there.

So Emerald tricks both others and herself. This is how she survives abuse.

This is why she keeps believing in Cinder while she is gone:

Emerald: You’re here! I knew you’d co--

And this is why symbolically her semblance grows stronger in an abusive environment:

Emerald: I’ve been working on my Semblance. I can help. I won’t tell anybody.

Salem: You really have been honing that Semblance of yours.

After all, this is when Emerald gets a “power-up”:

She has just lost Cinder and finds herself stuck with Salem. Her reaction is to have a breakdown and to project an illusion in the minds of nine people, when she had previously stated she could only do one/two minds at most.

Mercury weaponizes his trauma.

This is why his legs are Mercury’s true weapon, while Talaria is there just to cover and embellish the pain and ugliness under it.

Mercury fights Amber with only its bare legs because symbolically his trauma is still fresh and he has yet to work out a structured coping mechanism to it. His meeting with Cinder is the first step in this construction that evolves in the following months and is still evolving:

In CEM’s fight against Amber, Mercury uses his unfeeling legs to whitstand the violence of the elements:

Fire

Earth and Water

Air

He goes through the whole cycle without feeling any pain simply because his trauma has made him unfeeling:

I'm the one That was ripped from the earth and exposed to the sun

Marcus has literally turned Mercury into Iron:

But I gleam like a blade and I'm harder than iron

Still, the point is that mercury as a metal is not as hard as iron, but (in the alchemical scale of metals) is way more refined and closer to gold. Mercury can be better than his father, but his way to survive abuse is to repress himself.

This is why his semblance was stolen by his abuser. It is because abuse has taken away Mercury’s personhood.

So, both Emerald and Mercury face abuse by masking or repressing themselves. The difference is a matter of degree. Mercury can suppress his emotions and needs more, while Emerald can’t.

Theirs is a foiling about feeling too much to the point of self-harm and of feeling too little to the point of negation.

So, Emerald must struggle with her feelings not to be controlled by them, while Mercury must aknowledge them.

Emerald’s Hallucinations is a Semblance of The Self because it hides both Emerald herself and the truth.

This is interesting because, as stated above, the Emerald Tablet should convey the truth about alchemy. However, Emerald’s environment has turned her into an inversion of herself:

I'm the one Who rose out of filth and was loved by no-one

She is a gemstone, but is currently covered in dirt. She needs to polish herself, so she can shine and fit better in her allusion.

Mercury’s stolen semblance is a Semblance of The Self because it is linked to Mercury’s self-expression, which he must claim back.

Until then, he is bound to be stuck in an abusive cycle as nothing, but a weapon.

In general, there is some symbolism around Mercury which needs unpacking:

Mercury quoting Marcus:"This is a crutch!" "This makes you weak!"

Firstly, he has clearly interiorized what his father told him here. He refuses the idea of weakness and crutches to the point that his prosthetics, which are literal crutches get turned into weapons and even covered by other weapons. However, this refusal of crutches means Mercury can’t heal. After all, crutches, bandages and treatment are necessary to become healthy once again.

Secondly, there is this: 

I'll run circles round ya, I can touch the sky

The God Mercury’s main attribute is that he can overcome any boundary. He can go wherever he wants in no time. However, Mercury is the opposite because no matter what, he can’t leave his abusive environment. This has to do once again with his father’s abuse which culminated with Marcus taking Mercury’s legs. This is symbolically why Mercury is trapped.

Like for Emerald, Mercury’s arc should be about growing into his allusion, so that he can finally be free.

Still, how to turn Emerald and Mercury in the positive versions of their allusions? The answer has to do with this question:

(I think Emerald could be key to) maybe Cinder's (redemption) too

I’M THE ONE

Emerald and Mercury are two parts of the individual (body and soul) and two parts of a Huntsman (semblance and weapon):

Ren: A common philosophy is that a warrior's Semblance is a part of who they are.

Ruby: Just weapons? They're an extension of ourselves! They're a part of us! Oh, they're so cool.

Together they make a unit. Together they make Cinder. They are two sides of her trauma, her two sins:

Emerald: Actually, I was wondering, do you have any copies of "The Thief and The Butcher"?

And the wounds behind those sins.

This is why Cinder takes them in, but also why she abuses them.

She uses them as weapons:

In CEM’s fight against Amber she lets them go in first and has them take the majority of Amber’s hits.

Not only that, but she uses them as “red herrings” she hides behind.

She acts as if Amber’s blow takes her out of the fight, while Amber focuses on Mercury who resists her attack:

She has Emerald display her semblance at full force, so that the girl becomes Amber’s first target:

She makes her own illusion where Emerald and Mercury are her smokescreen.

However, her two disciples are not just things she can use as she pleases. They are two people who depend on her:

Mercury: You mean--

Emerald: She's alive?

They are literally two kids she takes in framing their relationship as parental/hierarchical hence she is responsible for them.

However, she fails them and leaves them in a dangerous environment. This is why they both leave her out of self-survival.

Narratively, Emerald and Mercury are two kids that must grow up. Right now, they are in some kind of adolescent phase. They have started their emancipation from their “parent”, but they have still to grow until they’ll be able to truly face Cinder.

It will probably be in this confrontation that they will affirm their growth. Right now, Cinder does not need to be coddled, but to be called out. Both Neo and Watts try to, but Cinder ignores them and retaliates against them. She needs a call out she can’t ignore and Emerald and Mercury are too rooted in who she deep down is for her to be unaffected by them.

At the same time, it would mark Mercury and Emerald’s first step into adulthood. Only then they can stop being a “half” and can truly become “one”, so a whole person.

[hillbillyoracle]

Some Thoughts on Why White Pagans Need to Heal Their Relationships with Christianity

Note: I've been trying to write a piece like this for months and the only way I know how to write this is to be very vulnerable and personal. So just please keep that in mind as you read this. It isn't very refined and it's something I'm still very much in process with, to borrow a phrase from my charismatic Christian upbringing. It's more a diary entry than a finished piece and none of these thoughts are original or eloquent. My hope it's helpful to see someone thinking through these things though.

If you're white and you don't want to further colonization and imperialism in your spirituality, then going back to Christianity in some form is pretty necessary; to do the work of decolonizing it's doctrines and to prevent taking from traditions that aren't ours.

This is just the conclusion I've arrived at after a lot shadow working in and around both my ancestors and my religious trauma. My ancestors aren't all white Europeans. But given that I'm white and I don't have any way to carry on the traditions of those that weren't, I feel like the best way to honor those non-white ancestors is to go back to the spiritual traditions I do have access to and doing the work of reshaping them into something less harmful.

I have read and intellectually understood that culture forms the foundation of spirituality and that when you remove something from it's originating culture, that concept or tool no longer works properly, if at all. In working with my non-white ancestors, I really got it on a practical and emotional level. There was this sense that they'd love for me to know their traditions but that it required an understanding that just isn't possible for me given my upbringing and disconnection - "you don't know the words and there's no way to find a person who can teach you" as one ancestor put it. It was an important reminder that "this isn't for white people" isn't merely a categorical assertion but a cultural and practical one.

They've generally asked I stick to practices I have a cultural grounding in when honoring them, even though it is not theirs - the cultural and linguistic element is that important to them. They would rather an authentic expression of gratitude and care through a ritual that isn't theirs rather than an imitation of one that is or being left out of my practice all together. Which makes sense to me in a relational way I hadn't fully grasped before.

In working with my white ancestors, I've come to more viscerally understand that the present understanding of Christianity is wildly different than other historical understandings. One thing that surprised me was that some of my more recent ancestors have expressed more discomfort around my queerness and transness than many of my older ancestors but both root their understanding in the Bible. I enjoyed one ancestor who, when I explained that I'm partnered with a woman, to mean that I would have a life of service - "no men to distract you from God" - which I mean is not wrong on several levels. It really highlighted for me that Christian doctrine is far more flexible than I'd initially thought. It challenged ideas I'd picked up through traumatic religious experiences. So much of what I'd assumed was Christianity itself seems to be more Christianity right now.

The historical angle is really important me. One of the things that drove my interest in Paganism was trying to understand what came before Christianity, to connect with whatever had been cut off in that process. The more I've come to learn about imperialism within Europe - how various empires conquered and destroyed localized traditions indigenous to parts of Europe - it clicked for me that my white ancestors did to others what had been done to them. It is intergenerational trauma in a nutshell.

It's also striking to me that so many people term the traditions pagans pull from as "dead" religions or at the very least "not living". For years I took that to mean they were "safe" to take from, that I wouldn't hurt anyone by doing so. But I hadn't really understood the weight of what "dead" meant - that there was no one left alive who could teach me, that I can't live in a context where all of the beliefs, tools, and traditions make intuitive sense. And if it was important to my ancestors who had had a connection to their traditions, then what was I missing by reanimating these traditions without that link?

I don't have a full visceral understanding of what I'm missing to be honest. I have a feeling that'll develop as my practice evolves. But that question alone has marked a pretty important change in how I understand myself spiritually.

The living and cultural element to my practice is more important to me now. For me, just given the family, community, and area I was raised in, that means Christianity is the living tradition I have access to and I've been revisiting it. I was reading an interview the other day with someone who is both a Catholic theologian and a practicing Buddhist. I liked the way he put it when he referred to Catholicism as "one of his sources of wisdom". That better captures my relationship with Christianity that's been unfolding over the last few months.

Making sure that intergenerational spiritual trauma stops as much as possible with me is really important. I had mistakenly thought that meant abandoning Christianity all together, that it was the problem. Which in hindsight, is fucking wild - I hugely fucked up there. There's nothing stopping me from just enacting the harm I learned in the context of Christianity in a different context, a Pagan context. It doesn't get to the root of the issue. At the end of the day, I just want to be sure I do not use my religion, any religion, to further the harms of structural inequality and colonial oppression. That's the goal.

In reading around about this, I've come to feel pretty strongly that one of the best ways to work toward that is to strive toward animism. Animism has been a great antidote to the spiritual entitlement that colonial religions cultivate (including white paganism). Animism also builds a relational spirituality rather than a goal/individual centered one. White paganism isn't inherently animistic since white culture teaches values that undermine quality relationships - individualism, competitiveness, and seeking domination of some fashion in order to feel safe. An animistic lens requires you unlearn those values and cultivate new ones - mutuality, respect, and accountability.

So all this is to say that given my current understanding, I think trying to build a practice out of New Age concepts while trying to avoid appropriation sounds impossible and hellish. I also think it doesn't deal with the work that needs done. I'm choosing to take an animist lens to the living traditions I do have to see if that's a better space for both my spirituality and my evolving understand of decolonizing to grow in.

People will rightly question my use of the term "shadow work" given this perspective. Shadow work is a problematic term for a lot of different reasons that are beyond the scope of this piece.  Where I'm at with it right now is that most western religious traditions seem to have some understanding of what we might call shadow work which points to it being important and useful. However they all used different terms given their contexts so I'm still unsure of what term might be the most appropriate given where I'm at. So for right now, you might see me use it less in the title or body of work I write from here on out, but I still might use it as a tag to make it findable. There's a good shot this doesn't go far enough and I'm not sold on this approach. Just know it's something I'm trying to figure out.

So that's where I'm at right now. I think white pagans really need to be more serious about animism at minimum and hopefully also looking at the role living religious traditions play in their current practice as well. I think white pagans' unhealed reactivity around Christianity too often serves as a justification for spiritual appropriation and furthering colonial harm. Changes are definitely needed. What that looks like in practice for individuals will likely vary a ton. I'd love to hear from other folks doing work in this vein. What's worked for you so far? What hasn't? Where are you in the process?

[mikaze-discord]

HEAVENS: Love letters

Soooo this is the last of the love letter, I really must reiterate how thankful I am to the people who responded to my message. Specially thankful for the people who ended up writing for one of the boys, all of the love letter writers are so cool. If you wanted to write your own love letter for your oshi then feel free too!! Utapri Tumblr is kinda dead.... but! I hope you enjoyed the love letters

Please enjoy under cut!!!!!!!!!!!!

EIJI OTORI 

From Anon:

Eiji Otori is another member of HEAVENS and he is a down-to-earth type of character. One can say he is a cinnamon roll as he looks out for HEAVENS and his brother, Eiichi. Eiji talks in a formal manner to people outside of HEAVENS and addresses them by their surname like the time he worked with Tokiya for Mighty Aura, or when he was working with Camus and Masato for Feather in Hand. Around HEAVENS, Eiji talks casually, calling them by their first name. He is very mindful of other members of HEAVENS and Eiji keeps an open mind for ways to improve his skills as an idol and to help out his bandmates come to a solution where both sides agree. Eiji speaks very fondly of the people he works with formality and a lot of respect.

What I love about Eiji is his relationship with his brother, Eiichi Otori. The two have a strong bond as Eiichi looked after and took care of Eiji when growing up. The two of them are inseparable and do a lot together while looking after each other. Personally, their sibling bond is what I wish to have with my sibling as well, even though we're complete opposites like day and night! Their interactions are easily seen throughout the anime, you can even see their sibling bond show the most through HEAVENS Radio as Eiichi and Eiji are the co-hosts. If there is anything that I'd like to know more about Eiji, it would be about his hobby, gardening. He has a lot of knowledge on plants and perhaps agriculture. It'd be nice to see HEAVENS talk about their hobbies one day. But all in all, Eiji is a great character that I appreciate with a heart of gold!

From Anon:

Eiji Otori, the 4th member of HEAVENS is one of my two most favorite characters in Utapri. I was originally drawn to his kind and gentle demeanor, that made him such an easily lovable character. He was introduced in the 4th season of the anime in the cross idol unit episodes. The way he treated Tokiya besides knowing he was part of the rival idol group ended up becoming an essential part of Tokiya’s later character growth. Although Eiji is meant to be a foil for Tokiya’s character their personalities are completely polar opposites, their devotion to wanting to be an idol being one of the only similarities besides level headedness. Eiji is his own character, right down the way he speaks to the way he sings. Eiji seems to always carry the group in a loving and family-like way, even going as far as having domestic hobbies like gardening and baking. We always see him and even hear the way he interacts with the other members of HEAVENS on the radio show as if they were an inseparable family. Eiichi, his older brother and the leader of HEAVENS loves him in a way that is so complex but Eiji will always love him back with every fiber of his being to the deepest parts of his soul. There is a deep connection between the brothers that is so beautiful that even poetry couldn’t express, it’s more profound then words can show. It’s a bond they share that only they know, like a secret.

However, even then there is so much more about Eiji that makes him such a wonderful character. When it comes to myself, Eiji hits a bit close to home in a more personal way. Perhaps that is also a factor in why I love him so much. I empathize with him and I can see through his eyes in ways only a younger sibling would know. As a younger sister to a sibling who has always been in the spotlight in some form of way with a big presence, I always lived in her shadow, but I admired her and cared about her above anything else. The way Eiji feels about Eiichi is something that I can personally relate with and understand. Eiichi is an essential part of Eiji’s character and the anime does not lack to show this, nor does it lack to show that Eiji is just as much an essential part of Eiichi’s character. It’s more obvious in the radio show that is hosted by the two brother but it’s not fully ignored either in the anime. I love how Eiji interacts with all of the characters, and seems to find ways to treat everyone with kindness even if they aren’t kind to him in return. He admires those who show a deep love for the things he does, and respects those who are more experienced then he is. He’s always eager to learn

and please. He’s the kind of person you’d always want around and you’d want a hug when things get rough. Eiji is definitely the most pure hearted character of all the Utapri characters. And, I’ll always stand by that through and through.

VAN KIRYUIN

From @whereisvanderwood:

Kiryuin Van. Where to start? He’s cocky. He’s cocky as all hell. There’s something in his air that is poised yet undignified. Childish yet mature. The man is founded on juxtaposition, not dissimilar to a painting of Picasso. His ability to be unique in an industry that begs for individuality, to rise above a tidal wave of competition and stand apart from other fish in the sea, is awe-inspiring. Expectation is dead to him; though the oldest member of Heavens, the weight of bearing the role as ‘most mature’ or the ‘parent’ of the group couldn’t be further from his concern. He is only any dimension of himself he wants to be at any given time. Dumb bitch by morning, bad bitch by night. Much like his bandmates, his confidence and intimidating aura is unwavering. He claims his victory before a race begins, and I couldn’t say if that undying faith in oneself is a skill or a sin. Whatever it is, he owns it. He shamelessly, unapologetically owns who he is and shares it with his fans, friends and enemies.

Also, he’s hot. He’s very appealing to the human eye. His ruggedness reminds me of a warm blanket in winter. His voice, oh his voice. If the world was about to blow up and he just said “No it won’t”, in his own way, I think I’d believe him. Regardless of what he says being juvenile or mature, he’s always authentic. No sugar coats, no little white lies, only genuity. As just said before, he is who he is and wouldn’t change for anyone if it wasn’t in his own best interest. Who couldn’t love a guy like that?

YAMATO HYUGA

From @kusagiiiii:

I'll be honest, I used to forget Yamato exists alot LMAO I fell in love with him when I was looking at a HEAVENS group photo! I think he is a very stronk,very cute and a very soft boy! in some ways haha he's my type

I honestly wish there would be more story on the HEAVENS boys since they all seem like they had a pretty rough past so yee that's basically it~

From Sammy:

Everybody, listen up! It’s Sammy here! Are you ready for some strong appreciation? Let’s shout it out! Yeah!!

Where do I begin when it comes to Yamato? It took me a while to actually like him. At first, I wasn’t a fan of how he was when he first showed up in the anime. I still remember when Yamato was one of the few HEAVENS members people really didn’t like or care much for, next to Eiichi and Nagi.

I used to be one of those people too with Yamato. I found him to be very stubborn, but over time after listening to HEAVENS Radio; The Drama CDs; Watching Maji Love Kingdom, etc… I came to realize there’s so much more to him.

I’ve learned a lot more about him, especially through role-playing as him, and my love for Yamato skyrocketed. Even with all the new content that’s been coming out for HEAVENS lately like Black Garden and Endless Score, my love grows even more every day. Yamato sneaked his way up to being one of my best boys.

Yamato is HEAVENS’ Strongest member. (Seriously, how the heck does this boy train everyday and do so much of it?!) He’s not always aggressive and violent. He’s actually a really thoughtful person who cares about his friends a lot, even being very protective of them. Yamato is the kind of person that’ll immediately stop what he’s doing, and only think about how to help the other person feel better.

A lot of things tend to be overlooked for him cause of how he’s written in the anime, and there’s fans who only pay attention to that. Not even giving the extra content a thought or a single glance.

As Ryuya’s younger brother, Yamato has his own insecurities, especially since he’s always seen as just a shadow. He’s been trapped in darkness where he feels he’s not good enough to be appreciated and loved as his own person. He doesn’t know what to do and which path to take. Yamato only became an idol just to defeat and finally be better than Ryuya at something. I feel that goal is still there, but it’s not a major one like before. Now, Yamato has people like the other members of HEAVENS, the angels, and the other idols. He found his light and happiness.

Overall, Yamato is the kind of person he wants everyone to be proud of. He wants to always share his strongest power and energy, carrying the burden of everybody’s smiles. Wanting to see those around him happy and be the best they can be.

Another part that I really like about Yamato is whenever he gets embarrassed. I can’t help, but find that really cute cause it’s something we don’t see or hear out of him a lot.

There’s also the times he demonstrates how much he loves food. Even though he overeats and knows he can’t help it when he’s hungry, I really liked when Yamato stated that if eating makes you happy, go for it. Just make sure you train afterwards to burn off calories. It helps people feel good about themselves.

Even the times when Yamato struggles with difficult words, specifically English and kanji. It’s embarrassing for him to admit, but he knows he’s not good at that sort of thing. What I really like about this is HEAVENS is always willing to help him, even Tokiya and Cecil. They help keep things simple and easy for Yamato to understand.

There’s a lot you can say I just simply vibe with when it comes to Yamato, and I love him. Hope everyone enjoys this long appreciation of this strong boy, and I hope you all love him too!

SHION AMAKUSA 

From Anon:

When I saw Shion for the first time, he caught my attention with his beautiful appearance. His cream-white hair, his periwinkle eyes and his pale skin were a wonderful combination that I just couldn't ignore. Physically, he was exactly the type of character I love… Even his hairstyle is great! And what to say about his pretty face! To me, he looked like an angel.

His style in clothes is something I also like about him. With all this mixed, the only word I can use to describe him is "perfect".

But, of course, there's more than just physical appearance. Shion's way of speaking, as we all know, is quite… Particular. And those beautiful words made me be more interested in this boy, even if they were a bit difficult to understand. This characteristic is something that, in my opinion, makes him special, not only in his group but among all the groups.

That poetic way of speaking is a beautiful combination with his voice. When he speaks I find it so mystical… And when he sings his solo songs I feel relaxed and even a bit emotional. He's not an angel just physically, he also sings like one!

But what made me love him completely was his personality. To be honest, at first I didn't understand why he acted so hostile to Cecil and signed with him, but when it was explained later I could see his point of view and I felt sorry for him, for how he was feeling and the big sacrifice he was making if we take into account his thoughts.

Loyalty is something I value a lot, and Shion has a huge loyalty towards his friends. After that incident, he changes his way of thinking and he starts getting more friendly to the rest, something I find beautiful.

I also find him very cute, an extra point for me to like him. His -sometimes- childish attitude is adorable! And how he acts around his friends… So lovely!

I also feel a bit similar to him in some aspects, such as listening to the same song again and again, liking birds or even usually feeling sleepy, besides other things. These similarities make me feel connected in some way with him.

Shion is a very special character for me, and I can't wait to see more content about him, to know more about this wonderful boy, for example, about his family, where he is from, how he ended up in HEAVENS, how he started to speak the way he does… There are a lot of things we don't know yet and I hope we can get more information about Shion soon!

[jurassicparkpodcast]

Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous Season 3 Provides A Welcome Treat For More Mature Jurassic Fans (Non-Spoiler Review)

The third season of Jurassic World Camp Cretaceous is just around the corner – with a debut date of the 21st of May 2021. The DreamWorks Animations and Universal Pictures teams were kind enough to give The Jurassic Park Podcast a look at the series ahead of its debut, so we wanted to share a non-spoiler review of the series. We will share one spoiler, however – this season was AWESOME!

If you caught my review of the second season of the show, then you will know that I was a little apprehensive about the direction which the series appeared to be taking – but, I was open to the team working on the project to prove me wrong and put my doubts to rest. I am happy to report that the third season of the show did exactly that. It took the time to explore new areas of Isla Nublar, brought in some additional lore which will have wider influences on the Jurassic universe as a whole, and also explored some darker and much grittier story threads throughout the season which I think adult fans are likely to enjoy. The story of the third season is one of desperation – as the Campers plan to escape the island whilst attempting to avoid a new threat which is making its presence felt across Isla Nublar. 

The third season’s story really takes the opportunity to explore some fundamental elements of the Jurassic franchise – allowing us to explore certain events and things which may have been happening off-screen during or before the events of the films. I really enjoyed how these sequences added extra context and meaning to moments which we are already familiar with as Jurassic fans, allowing us to revisit these moments and appreciate the extra depth which Camp Cretaceous adds to them. One of my biggest concerns with the third season was how the plot would be handled in terms of its wider implications for the larger story which is taking place as we approach Jurassic World Dominion. I’m happy to report that serious thought has been put into the writing here – finding a way for the story to fit happily within its confines whilst making sense in terms of the wider canon. I was really delighted to see just how hard the team worked to make this fit, and apart from a couple of small moments which contradict smaller elements of the canon, the story itself works really well and feels like a return to the great storytelling present throughout the first season.

The Campers also get the opportunity to see some fantastic growth throughout the third season – with some moments which put them in genuinely challenging and deadly situations that allow for some meaningful growth. The story manages to factor in some of the key elements which many of us face when we are growing up – including things like discovering our own identity – but it does this in a way which complements the story which is unfolding on screen. It’s also worth noting that the growth in the characters isn’t only psychological and emotional in this season. As you can see in the trailers, the assets have been updated to reflect the amount of time which the campers have spent on the island – meaning unkempt hair and dirty clothes are present throughout. The added detail, combined with the emotional development many of these characters undergo in the third season, means that the show helps to provide a snapshot of the real impact that being trapped on Isla Nublar has had.

There is also a lot of variety in Dinosaurs here – with several different animals seen throughout the season, which we really appreciated. As we saw in the trailer, the Dimorphodon from Jurassic World appears in the season for the first time and has some fun sequences which help to remind us of why aerial animals are so terrifying. An assortment of familiar carnivores and herbivores also return throughout the third season – helping to remind us of just how diverse the ecosystem present on the island really is. Alongside all of these expected animals, we also have a couple of surprises which I wasn’t expecting, one of which made me shout out loud with excitement. The show does a really good job of balancing our expectations with new and diverse elements – even if they always don’t make the most sense in the wider context of the confines of the park.

Alongside good variety in Dinosaurs, we also get a good assortment of different locations throughout the season – as well as familiar locations, too. One thing I appreciated was the different weathers and times of day which we got to use to explore some locations, as this meant that some locations got to feel a lot more authentic and therefore complimented them feeling a lot more new, too. It’s safe to say that Isla Nublar is a huge island with lots of unique areas dotted across it, so I really appreciated the opportunity to explore more of that, and to get some insight into the ways in which Simon Masrani opted to run the park. Whilst there are a couple of locations which perhaps feel a little exaggerated due to their location on Nublar, they do provide a welcome change of pace and tone to the story, something which only benefits it as we continue to get deeper into the depth of the real plot points here. 

Overall, I am absolutely delighted with Camp Cretaceous Season 3. This season felt like it reigned in some of the more grandiose aspects of the second season – something which felt a lot more grounded, and therefore a lot more appropriate tonally when compared to the other projects within the Jurassic universe. There were plenty of moments when I laughed out loud and had a huge grin on my face watching the show – and I think this is a testament to the amount of passion and love which clearly went into getting this right. There is something for everyone here – from classic call-backs, to action-packed moments and even some subtle nods to the novel – all of which helps to create a season which I am confident will be just as pleasing for adult fans as it will for the younger fans who are growing up with this era of Jurassic content.

Jurassic World Camp Cretaceous Season 3 is exciting, energetic, scary and nostalgia-driven in many of the best ways – and I can’t wait to see how the creative team behind this season continue to build on it in the future.

Written by: Tom Jurassic

[saikagerights]

Lay Me Down to Rest - Entry for Day of MirSan 2021

Hello there! And welcome to my first Inuyasha fanfiction, as apart of the @dayofmirsan event. 

I initially was planning to be an observer of the event, but sudden inspiration struck at 1am during my nightly routine of falling asleep to Inuyasha. Rewatching the Monkey Sprite episode is interesting for many reasons. For one, there was an unhealthy amount of filler added into the anime adaptation of this story-line, which gave hit-or-miss comedy. But the most important thing is that Miroku and Sango are mostly unaccounted for in this story-line, which gives shippers like me an opportunity to write some “off-screen development” for them. And though the anime does give us an idea, I’m afraid that Miroku’s indifference and frustrated edge in the scene feels a bit off, so I decided to add a bit of a bit of context. Consider this a bit of a fusion between the anime in manga, though the scene is based off of the anime. Also I was very liberal with my use of English/Japanese dub terminology. I watched the anime in English, but switched over to the manga to replace the Final Act, so it’s a bit inconsistent. 

I’ve been observing this fandom from afar ever since I started getting into Inuyasha back in December, and though I wanted to try and engage with it, it seemed very daunting given this fandom’s age and organization. But I’m very grateful that I was given the chance to participate in this event, and lucky that inspiration struck me at the right time. I’ve really been looking forward to seeing the works that come out of this event, and I hope you enjoy my contribution. 

And thanks for the mods for allowing me to share my work with you fellow fans

InuYasha and it’s properties are owned by creator Rumiko Takahashi and Sunrise 

Read on AO3

Sango tailed the monk as he led their investigation. The villagers they had asked so far had no knowledge of the wicked demon, only of the pestering monkeys that were ravaging their fields. Her companion simply nodded, thanking them for their time and promising that the Inugami would save their village. They soon found themselves at the outskirts of the village on an empty patch of land outside the forest, save for one tall tree. Sango found his behavior during their search to be strange, especially as he now paused at the tree, leaving his Shakujo leaning against its trunk.

Was he just as stumped as she was? Would this reprieve be a chance for them to rethink their approach? 

“Why have we stopped here, Miroku?” She questioned. “Aren’t we supposed to search for Naraku’s whereabouts?”

Her befuddlement heightened as he laid his body to rest in the grass underneath the shade of the tree with a sigh, both hands pillowing his head. His intentions then became clear at the sight of his eyelids slipping shut.

“How might we do that when we have neither Inuyasha’s nose or Kagome’s detection?” His tone reflected his relaxed poise. “I merely said that so that Inuyasha would be more inclined to help those villagers.”

Her head tilted downward towards the monk’s resting face. “I understand wanting to help, but do you honestly think that Inuyasha dealing with those monkeys will get us any closer to finding him?

“Not particularly.” He punctuated the off-handed remark with a yawn, overstating his disinterest. “But enough of that... Why don’t you join me here?”

She stood awestruck at his bold request. He lays there while their friends were helping this poor village and now he asks her to do the same? If Inuyahsa were to find out, he’d surely have more pressing things to worry about than the food security of the village. 

“I don’t think it would be wise, considering your flippant lies.”

The man remained still, no sign of concern disrupting his posture. 

“If you changed back into your battle attire before our return, they’d never suspect a thing.” He ignored her statement, a peaceful smile casually appearing on his face. She instantly recognized this move. He was fully convinced he would get his way, the sleazy crook. “Besides, I’m sure sleep has been as kind to you as it has been to me as of late.”

Although it was usually hard to detect amongst his manner of speaking, the monk’s sarcasm was not missed by the slayer. She knew very well that Naraku’s sudden disappearance had their whole group on edge, including herself. And while sleep had become its own battle, the desperate investigations of their enemy have left her distracted from everything else. Sleep meant the rest needed to fight again, but it also meant time alone with one’s most intimate thoughts. What always plagued her mind nowadays were things she’d rather not willingly engage. Finding Naraku should be her biggest concern now, but she indulged her companion despite what she would consider was her better judgement.

The monk had a particular talent for steering her away from rationality.

“Knowing your pervy ways, I’m sure you’d try and sneak a peek at me”

The monk could’ve never noticed the sneer on her face behind his still-closed eyes. The same smile was plastered on his face as well, despite her accusation. He really did enjoy giving her grief, didn’t he...

“Trust me, my dear. I have no intention of moving from this spot for a while. Or at least until Inuyasha comes for my head.”

 “Then I guess you wouldn’t mind if I left Kilala here to guard this spot until I returned.”

He chuckled at that. “I don’t mind at all. I’m sure she’d love to watch me lie here, right Kilala?”  

Sango looked to the nekomata, who merely chuffed in response. She was wary of Kilala’s strange trust in the monk at times, but she was sure that the demon would keep an eye on him in case he tried something funny. 

Miroku took this as the perfect time to reveal his indigo eyes to her. 

 “Please, my intentions are more honorable than what they seem, believe me.”

There it was, that gentle voice of his used to convince her of his authenticity. The same breathy tones that sent her heart racing and her stomach in somersaults. She knew Miroku was confident in his charms, but she also liked to think that he was fully aware of this game they played. She only came to grips with it recently, but there was something going on. 

They’d fight, they’d talk it through, and just when she thought he would try to make a move, that damn hand of his would find the wrong place to caress. Or it would be when she found herself grieving once more, and he could comfort her with his words alone. How did he always know what to say that made everything clear and could heal every fiber of her being, but also had a hand that never failed to do the exact opposite? He was a truly frustrating man, but he was the only one she ever considered more than just that. 

But did he really know? That was a puzzle Sango couldn’t solve. It wasn’t as if anything meaningful resulted from these escapades. Afterwards, they would act as if nothing happened, and he would return to his typical flirtatious ways with any woman that entered his line of sight. So Sango liked to think that Miroku fully knew that he was toying with her feelings. That way it made it easier to lower her expectations and resent them despite Kagome’s not-so-subtle prodding. 

When she became abruptly aware that her eyes had been locked on him for too long, she made her hasty retreat, hoping he didn’t catch her bright red flush in the shade of the tree. 

“This man will be the death of me,” she softly cursed herself as soon as she knew she left his earshot. 

_______________________________________________________________

Upon her return to their little “spot,” she was greeted by an alert Miroku. His body was now fully upright and turned towards her approaching form. 

“You’ve accepted my invitation, I see”

“I thought you were trying to sleep”

“I still am, but I’d figured it would help if I got a quick glimpse of your beauty before-hand.”

She rolled her eyes at his shameless attempt. “You really are troublesome, you know that?”

“You wound me, dear Sango!” He unceremoniously flopped back into his previous position, his left hand patting the spot next to him. “You are free to lie beside me if you wish.” 

Without the need for consideration, she silently opted to sit against Kilala’s curled form, stretching her legs in front of her. He managed to convince her to relax alongside him, but she had no intention of allowing herself to get too comfortable around him in the likely case the monk’s wandering hands wandered once more. He sighed audibly at her decision, but allowed his eyes to close again without any further word. He could act like a child all he wanted, but she would not budge. 

She watched the man for a while, observing his state of rest. She could tell as much that he hadn’t fallen asleep just yet by all of his idle noises and the way he kept trying to steal a glance in her direction. 

“Can’t sleep?”

She hadn’t even tried to close her eyes just yet, as she was still trying to grasp their current situation. Why was he so insistent on sleeping if he was just going to try and stare at her the entire afternoon? Why did he lie to Inuyasha in the first place if this was how they would spend their time? With all these questions moving around in her head, she might as well ask for the most basic of them.

“Miroku? Why do you lie and steal as casually as you do? I always thought that monks were pure-hearted.”

“What a wonderful question!” He exclaimed. With such enthusiasm, she was almost afraid of the answer she would soon receive from him. “I’ve been traveling on my own for so long, and it’s quite difficult to acquire wealth in such unfortunate times. I wish to give aid to those in need, but I also believe that it never hurts to help yourself as well.” He settled for an even tone and let his eyes slip open once more. 

 “And you are right, It is true that holy-people such as myself are meant to be free of sin. But,  I was born tainted by the hole that resides in my hand.” His voice tapered off at his pause, the newfound silence growing thick with each passing moment. His sound returned to him, soft and low, as if it were only meant for his ears alone. 

“It doesn’t matter how much I devote myself to my faith to any idol or deity. My curse is hell-bent on deciding my fate....”

But we are trying to stop Naraku! To free you from the Kazaana. You can always change your path after that! She immediately contested, perhaps a little too loudly, but she didn’t care. How dare he speak so little of himself and avoid her gaze as he did it?! She refused to accept his belittling statements. 

“It is very hard for me to see a future for myself at this time, I’m afraid…” He brought his head up to look at her. A flash of fear ran through his eyes before he looked down once more. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t speak like that.”

He’s afraid…

And he had every right to be. 

“Please don’t apologize.”

He never showed it in front of their group, but behind that calm and smooth exterior remained a man trembling under the weight of his own mortality. He was a man after all, and men were never to show what made them most vulnerable. But with how much he gives to help others, it feels unfair for him to just allow himself to suffer inside as he did.

 If they understood each other as well as he liked to claim, then she knew he hated the restless feeling they had knowing nothing of where their wicked nemesis resided, surely plotting something to exploit the fears he caused within their hearts. Knowing that her poor brother remained in that demon’s grasp sickened her to her core, and sitting around with no leads made it hard to lay dormant as they did now. 

“I get it. I am just as frustrated as you… About Kohaku-”

“-You don’t need to go any further” He  interrupted her thoughts, I didn’t mean to remind you of your pain like that.”

 “Miroku-” 

 “-Please,” he sharply cut in once more, hoarseness settling into his throat. He must’ve noticed it as well, as he cleared his throat soon after. “let’s just try to find rest while we still can.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut, clearly trying to force unconsciousness upon himself. Sango relented, trying to relax her body, idly stroking Kilala as she watched the man slowly succumb to rest. It was surreal to see him struggle like this when it seemed like meditation was second nature to him. She decided on trying for sleep once his breathing evened out and all the remaining tension left his face. 

________________________________________________________________

Miroku wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep, but he could tell from the shadows before him had grown considerably when his eyes peered open. He turned his head to see Sango now curled up against Kilala, her face all but buried in her demon companion’s fur. He slowly rose to his feet, slightly stretching as he made an intake of his surroundings. It looked as if the sun would soon begin it’s retreat from the sky. The monk knew the rest was necessary, but he definitely didn’t look forward to another predictively sleepless night. 

One more glance at Sango’s sleeping form was enough to convince him to approach her, neglecting his Shakujo to silence his movements. He knew, probably better than anybody, of the threat imposed by the slayer’s attuned senses. He also knew the danger of being caught if she awoke to his gawking. Unfortunately it was a risk he was willing for one small fleeting moment to stare at her.

What an idiot he had been for making her sympathize with his life. Even worse that it reminded her of her own grief. He was happy to indulge her curiosity, but when he looked up at her, he turned cowardly at what he saw. It wasn’t fear, or sadness over his grim fate. It was the very same fire that lit behind her eyes in battle. 

She was prepared to fight for him, it seemed…

He dare not think that she would go any farther for that. He was not worth her death. In fact, nothing was worth her death. The honor of her clan was at stake, and her life was essential in carrying on their legacy. One measly itinerant monk with a fated death should be worthless in her eyes, even if he wanted nothing more than to keep her alive.

Even if he wanted more than anything to see a future with her.

He turned away from her, returning to his spot in a now seated position. The monk had half a mind to wake the woman, but decided against it. Every waking moment for her was its own battle, after all. She needed all the rest she could get. And he’d gladly wait for her until that battle resumed, and fight with her at every step.

And if dying for her now meant he could spend the next life by her side, then he would welcome death with open arms. 

“I hope this woman is the death of me,” he softly wished before all else melted away to his own meditation.

______________________________________________________________

Yeah I realized I took some liberties here with how Miroku and Sango’s relationship was at this point. This episode takes place after the Temptress of the Mist and Demon-Head castle, but far behind Mt. Hakurei, so what was going on with them hadn’t really become a “pattern” just yet. And Miroku had just comforted her in her grieving state for the first time right before that. Sango wasn’t deep enough to say he was her reason for living, so that’s why I kept her on the fence and didn’t have her feel too disappointed, because that’s what came after Mt Hakurei. 

I’m a sucker for long winded perspective changes, especially here with all the parallels I draw between them. Some of my best lines were written here, especially the ending line. My GOD. I swear, I wrote that and everything made sense. I said “yes” over and over again, it was so good.

Also can you tell whose voice I’m talking about when describing Miroku’s? The answer is Koji Tsujitani. I always knew about Tsujitani’s delivery that makes Miroku sound truly “fake” but I noticed rather recently how he would add so much breath, especially in serious scenes. On the other hand, Kirby Morrow played the character down and deep in his throat, which isn’t bad when talking about his overall performance, but I decided to favor Tsujitani’s performance in this instance. 

(I’m a classically trained singer and a music education major, so I’m a nut for analyzing voice acting. I have respect for both of these men may they rest in peace.)

Thanks again for the opportunity, and I hope to write more for this series. 

-Saikage

[astaroth1357]

Melancholy (A Leviathan x GN MC Fanfic)

I guess you could say I use a lot of personal experience when I write. If I get sad, I’ll write something sad. Lock me in my room and I’ll probably write something about my lamp. I hope you can at least get something out of my occasional literary catharsis. Also, communication is important. Always ask for help if you need to, there’s never any shame in doing so.

Warning: Themes of Depression, Angst

Melancholy: A feeling of pensive sadness, typically with no obvious cause.

Levi could barely manage his own mood sometimes, so never once did he think that he’d end up having to help someone else with their own. Under normal circumstances, he’d never considered getting involved. All his brothers knew that he was probably the least equipped to deal with their problems, physical or emotional. If they were concerned about completing a boss level or what anime to watch next, he had them covered, but sadness…? That was an Asmo problem or maybe a Beel. Don’t come to him.

But for the MC it was different… They seemed to gravitate to him since the day they first met, even though he tried to push them away. They liked him. They laughed at his dorky jokes and listened to his endless rambling. They would stay up late with him to play the latest game he just got or sit through his six-millionth re-watch of TSL with a smile on their face. He couldn’t quite place when it started to happen, but he felt himself getting slowly more attached to this peculiar human… He gradually started opening his world to them, and they didn’t seem to mind being a part of it. They were at ease with him and all his little eccentricities... It was a feeling of acceptance that he had always craved but was too afraid to seek. He wanted to be with them, hell, he probably even loved them.

So it hurt him in a special way to see them so sad… He couldn’t place why but some days, he’d just notice things were off about them. They wouldn’t laugh as much at his jokes or smile quite as wide when he launched into another one of his rants. He could see them trying. The corners of their mouth would raise briefly, but then drop like they were weighted by cement. Their eyes wouldn’t sparkle like they used to, they’d just stay flat, static… muted. Like something about them had decided to withdraw from the world, hiding away in a place he just couldn’t quite get to… He’d ask them what was wrong, but they never had a good answer for him. Most of the time, they wouldn’t even admit there was a problem. They’d put on that fragile smile and say everything was alright… Did they think he was blind? Sure, Levi knew he wasn’t the most well-versed in people’s emotions, but even he could point to sadness when he saw it. Especially in someone that he cared about so much… 

In truth, he had been paying close attention to them for months now. With the same level of detail as he would his favorite character in a show or a voice actor who’s work he admired. He knew things about them that they may not have known about themselves… Their favorite foods and colors, how they stood and how they walked, the little habits they hung onto from the human world, and all the faces they’d make when no one else is watching... He knew it all as well as he knew any game he’s ever played, and why wouldn’t he? He was their biggest fan.

He tried using all that knowledge to cheer them up. As far as he was concerned, getting them to feel better was his new mission objective. Even his brothers took notice of his dedication to it. More deliveries started showing up at the House filled with very… not-Levi things for once. At one point, he had a rather irritated Lucifer knocking on his door to ask why there were twenty pounds worth flowers all piled in the entryway. He explained it away as him hitting the wrong option on accident, but in all honesty, it was because he ordered them flowers but just couldn’t decide which color or style would have been the best for a bouquet... So he bought them all.

They would always accept his gifts, and he could tell they liked them, but it never seemed to fix the problem... No matter what he bought them, there would still be those days where they looked just too forlorn to smile… It made his heart ache, and he wished that he could be good with people like Asmo or just put people at ease like Beel… Even Mammon was better at getting people to smile than he was… He wanted to help so badly, but every time he built up the courage to ask them about it, they’d never tell him what the problem was… 

Slowly, he began to worry if it was him, like maybe he had done something wrong one day… That had to be it right…? He was a shut-in, he’s never really had to deal with people before… The fear, guilt, and frustration gradually ate at his mind for weeks while he scoured his memories for every little mistake he could have made... Did he miss an important date? Had he forgotten to call them back for something? Did he ignore them by accident one day? With every anxious thought, there was a pressure building inside him… He was growing convinced that MC was upset because of something he had done, but he didn’t want them to leave… not after he’d finally felt so understood. It was only a matter of time before his racing thoughts slipped over…

When they knocked on his door that day, he knew they weren’t in the best mood before they even walked in. Their hand hit his door softer than usual, tentative with a longer pause between strikes. He had half a mind to tell them that he was too busy to hang out that day, having to look at their woeful expression just hurt him that much... But he knew he couldn’t refuse them even if he wanted to. His lovesick heart could never turn them away…

His suspicions were proved true when they stepped in to say hello. They had that same weak smile… the dullness of their eyes almost refusing to reflect the cool, blue glow of his aquarium wall. What did they want from him…? Were they trying to rub something in? He was to busy digging through his mind for their motives to notice that they had crossed the room to stand next to his computer chair. At least not until they gently tapped his shoulder. The concerned look in their eye was enough to stop his heart, he would have leapt from his chair had they not been blocking the way.

“Levi…? Are you okay? I said hello…” There they were, clearly drowning in their own sorrow, yet they were still concerned for him of all people? The guy who couldn’t even make them smile...? His brain short-circuited for a moment, and his next words flew out without his say-so.

“I’m s-sorry!!” He watched them pause before their brow furrowed in confusion, probably because he had just shouted in their face... He suddenly wished he could shrink down and hide in Henry’s fishbowl… This is why he doesn’t deal with people...

“Sorry…? About what…?” His eyes flicked frantically around the room while he tried to form some kind of exit strategy, but there wasn’t much he could do. There really was no turning back now, was there…?   He was finally going to have to say something… Demons don’t pray, but he could feel himself begging for someone, anyone, to make this go well…

“A-about well… You’ve been sad a lot lately and I uh… I know I didn’t remember to get you that limited edition Hinata figurine from the last convention we went to… Or that you had a test to study for a few weeks ago when I tried to get you to play Devil’s Haven with me… I also didn’t notice your last haircut until an hour after I saw you and I accidentally ate your pudding cup from Madame Scream’s and blamed it on Beel-”

“Levi…”

“-I know I should have gotten the red camellias instead of the pink on that last batch of flowers. I saw the balance was off-”

“Levi.”

“-but I thought it’d be okay. Oh, and I’m sorry I hit you with that body pillow last week! I was aiming for Mammon, I sw-”

“Leviathan!” They had to put their finger over his mouth to keep him from rambling on. His face flushed almost immediately, in part due to embarrassment but also because of their proximity. The MC’s face had softened considerably, but he could still see the lingering sadness over their features… Had he not said enough…?

“You… You actually think that it’s your fault that I’m like this…?” They took their finger back and looked at him expectantly. Levi swallowed a growing lump in his throat and nodded hesitantly. He didn’t trust himself not to launch into another self-conscious tirade if he tried opening his mouth again… It felt like a stab to the chest when he saw their expression dip farther into despair.

“It’s not your fault, Levi… I just…” They drew in a deep breath and let it out as a sullen sigh, avoiding his eyes. “I just get sad sometimes… It’s a passing mood swing. I can’t really control it, and it doesn’t always have a reason… You’ve actually been helping me, though.” Levi’s amber-toned eyes widened like saucers, he could barely believe his ears. Was this a dream, or had they just told him that he actually helped them with something…? 

“I have…??” The dumbstruck look on his face must have been pretty amusing because they actually graced him with their smile, full and authentic with no hidden melancholy.

“Yes, you dork! You have.” The light from his aquarium finally touched their eyes, dancing in amongst the natural sparkle that always accompanied their gaze. “That’s why I always keep coming here… Your jokes, your gifts… just how excited you get when you see something you love… it... It all helps. It really does…” A pang of guilt seemed to hit them as they turned away from him again, shrinking back from his presence.

“I’m so sorry I never said anything to you… I must have been showing up at your door sadder and sadder each time… No wonder you thought you were behind it…” They averted his stunned gaze by watching the jellyfish float behind his wall. “You must have felt awful… I hope you can forgive me…” The genuine remorse in their voice sent his mind into an anxious panic. He wanted, no, needed to do something now. He just couldn’t bear one more minute of their sadness…

“N-no it’s fine!” They turned back toward him in shock when his hands grasped at the hem of their shirt, his sitting form straining to try and coax their standing one closer. He just didn’t want them to pull away again… “I’m not mad or anything, I just… wish you would talk to me, you know? I want to help…”

They were silent for a few moments, eyeing him with mixed emotions and darkened cheeks, but soon let him pull them in. He rested his head on their stomach while his arms glued to their waist. It may not have been the most conventional position, but it was one where they were close, so frankly, Levi could care less. He felt them settle into it slowly, resting an arm around his shoulders while their fingers combed softly through his hair. The feeling almost made him shiver, but he didn’t want to ruin the mood.

After several long minutes locked in tranquility, he found that he just had to ask…

“MC… Is this helping…?” His heart skipped a beat when he finally heard their laugh once more, soft and charming as it always was…

“Yes, Levi… You always do…”

[yuzukult]

effortlessly pt. 3 || jungkook & reader

title: effortlessly pairing: jungkook x reader genre: fluff, romance, school!au, smut (not in this chapter, will occur in future chapters) words: ~3.3k notes: i wrote this in between writing my reports and preparing for my presentation... yes, inspiration always sparks when you have other things to prioritize ** tried my best to proofread this one lol

i do not have an update schedule therefore i know that i definitely did just post part two like 2-3 days ago so...

series: part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || epilogue 

This was utterly uncomfortable for the three of you... well the two of you because Jungkook is standing there with a smile still stretched across his face. It’s difficult to judge what thoughts are running through his head because he’s pointing to the bag in Dahyun’s hand as she lifts her arm up to give it to him.

“Well, I’m glad you like me. I’m your tutor after all. It would have been really weird if you hated me—”

“Jeon, she has feelings for you.” You break in, scantily agitated with his absentmindedness. Jungkook wasn’t stupid when it came to the books, blessed with athletic ability, and had great social skills but he was awful in the love department.

“Feelings?” He turns to look at you surprisingly before switching his stare back to Dahyun. “When you say ‘go out’ you mean... date. As in more than a friend?”

You’re doubtful if Dahyun is thankful for your presence or not, however she’s sighing with relief that he finally reads her perspective successfully. Jungkook had misinterpreted almost every confession is what Dahyun learns, fearing that he would do the same with her. “Yes, oppa. I want to be more than friends, have more than just a student and tutor relationship with you.”

You want to run and hide. Why the hell did Jungkook tell her to say it with you standing here? You’ve encountered plenty of occasions where the atmosphere was awkward but this takes the cake. Jungkook never failed to surprise you. 

Clearing your throat, you sheepishly rub the back of your neck. “Uh, I’m just gonna wait outside. I’ll be by your car when you’re done.”

Jungkook’s piercing gaze meets yours and if you didn’t turn away, you’re definitely sure that you’d feel the daggers. 

“I’m sorry, Dahyun-ah.” His face is washed with guilt and sympathy but the look on Dahyun’s face doesn’t show an ounce of bitterness or sadness. “Don’t worry about it, Oppa. I know you mean well.”

Jungkook’s rummaging through his duffle bag that sits on one of the benches by the pool, searching for a shirt before throwing it over his body. He recognizes how embarrassing it is standing in front of a girl who just confessed to him and he doesn’t even have a shirt on. 

“I’m sorry. I... want to prioritize swimming right now. I haven’t even really thought about dating anyone else right now. Recruiters are coming by the finals and I want to be ready for it.”

“Anyone else?” She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, deep in thought. “Was it the girl that was standing here just now? Is she that ‘anyone else’?”

Startled, his eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“Jungkook Oppa, please don’t make excuses and lie to me. If you don’t like me back, just come out and say it. I can take rejection.”

He frowns. He isn’t familiar with the emotion resulting in being turned down by someone you like but he can comprehend the feeling of longing for someone you can’t have. “Dahyun, it’s not the right time. There’s nothing wrong with you, I’m just very dedicated to my career.” Jungkook hesitates for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip before gathering enough courage to continue his response authentically. “And I’ll be honest, I’ve had my eye on someone for a long time. I’m waiting for her to notice her own feelings without pressuring her. I hope you understand.”

But she clearly doesn’t. Her heart feels like it’s being torn into shreds carelessly and she wants to burst into tears but she holds a facade in front of Jungkook to validate her own ‘mature and adult demeanor,’ and that she wasn’t just any younger girl he tutors.

“I don’t,” She admits, clenching her teeth. “But I won’t pursue you anymore. I’ll see you after I get the results of my math exam back.” Dahyun says firmly before making her way out of the swimming arena.

Heaving a sigh of alleviation, Jungkook slugs the duffle bag over his shoulder as he watches her silhouette disappear. 

Despite all the lovely things about him, Jungkook’s biggest flaw was his guilty conscience. He always found himself in situations where he’d do things for people out of feeling guilty, even if it meant he had to go out of his way to do it. He had been trying to practice the words “no” or “I can’t” but the terms would eat him up inside, causing his stomach to churn in anxiety. He would have inner arguments with himself until he goes back and tells the person that he can do it, even if he didn’t want to.

In a different scenario, he could see himself telling Dahyun that he would consider her confession and take her out on a date. Even though she was a bit younger than him, she was pretty and nice but saying yes to her meant that his chances with you were slim. 

Yet again, your existence in his life only improved him for the better. For the first time, he said no to someone, for the benefit of himself, even if the situation wasn’t good for someone else. 

You’re leaning on Jungkook’s old beat up Lexus in the parking lot of the school, playing Animal Crossing on your phone before the shadow of a figure approaches you slowly, altering your attention toward the person. Dahyun.

“Dahyun,” You call out, standing up straight and off the car. “Uh, sorry about Jungkook. How are you?”

Dahyun stands there, a blank look slapped on her face as if she’s seen a ghost. “He said swimming comes first. Then he said something about having feelings for someone else. Is he just finding excuses to reject me at this point?”

“Huh?” Slips from your lips, a dumbfounded expression on your face. “He has feelings for someone? I didn’t know that specifically, but uh, I do know that swimming is Jungkook’s dream. Don’t take it personally, it’s just something he has always wanted to do.”

She shakes her head, regaining consciousness again before locking eyes with yours. “He definitely said he had feelings for someone. How don’t you know? Aren’t you supposed to be his friend?”

“Yes but—“ You’re hesitating, uncertain on how to comfort her. This hasn’t necessarily been your strongest suit and it was starting to bite you in the ass for never strengthening that weakness. “—I’m sure that even with whomever he said he has feelings for, he’s still prioritizing his dreams.”

“I guess I was stupid enough to think someone like him could ever fall for someone like me.” 

Watching as Dahyun slouches in her school uniform while exhaling a deep breath, you couldn’t help but feel yourself in her position. Her shoulders drop along with her expression before she attempts to shake off the melancholic emotions, waving a goodbye to you. “I’m going to head home. Thanks anyway.”

In a sense, you were Dahyun. Maybe not someone who Jungkook tutors but the words that Dahyun said rang in your ears like a thought you had previously. I guess I was stupid enough to think someone like him could ever fall for someone like me. What made you special enough in Jungkook’s eyes to be more than just a friend? What about this girl that Dahyun was talking about? Who was she and would you even be able to convince Jungkook of your feelings enough for him to consider you?

Jungkook’s nearing appearance manages to snap you out of your thoughts before it got any more negative than it already had. He unlocks the car doors, slamming it after he settles into the seat. You follow in unison with his actions.

“Ugh,” He groans, dropping his forehead onto the steering wheel of his car. “That was my first rejection. I feel so bad for her.”

“Everyone gets rejected at least once, I’m sure she’ll be okay eventually.”

Jungkook throws his head back against the leather seats that are worn to the point it’s peeling and tearing off. He refused to get himself seat covers because he liked the authentic look of the car being in its original shape. 

“She looked like she was going to burst into tears.”

“What are you going to do then? Date her out of pity?” You raise a brow questioningly. He looks in your direction with a pout and you shake your head in response. “That’s what I thought. Speaking of, how are you going to interrogate me about having a crush when Dahyun here just told me you have feelings for someone? Contradicting, much?”

He freezes. The keys are in the ignition but he hasn’t started the vehicle yet, jaw clenched restlessly. Jungkook is trying to observe your expression through his peripheral vision but fails miserably. “... Did she say anything else?”

“Nothing other than you saying that swimming is number one. Why, did you tell her anything else?”

“Uh, no.” He says abruptly, finally turning the key as the car stutters until letting out a heavy rumble. Tilting your head, it’s your turn to lean in closer to Jungkook to examine his face. “You told her about the girl, didn’t you?”

“Uh, no.” He repeats, gulping anxiously. 

“Who is she?”

“I never said there was a girl.” 

“You’re lying. You said earlier that you could tell when I lie. Do you think I don’t have that same exact ability? Come on, Jeon. Talk to me.”

“Nah,” Clicking the seatbelt on over his body, he puts the car in drive before hitting the gas. “Maybe I’ll tell you more during dessert. After you tell me what’s on your mind lately.”

“Has Jungkook ever had a girlfriend?”

“What?” You retort, completely off-guard. You’re sitting squished at a table in a KBBQ restaurant with the rest of Jungkook’s swim team including several of their girlfriends and other friends. Hoseok is sitting across from you, munching on another piece of grilled pork before reiterating his question. 

“You’ve known him like forever. Has he ever had a girlfriend?”

“... Not that I know of—“

“No.” Jungkook chimes in, squinting his eyes at the older male. “Why are you asking this?”

“You wouldn’t tell me,” Hoseok says casually, eyeing the younger with the same expression. “Plus, I wanna hook you up with someone. Are you just going to be a prude up until college?”

“No.” Jungkook says again, picking up his chopsticks to grab a couple pieces of cooked meat and placing it onto your plate. Hoseok is watching closely at the actions between the two of you and you can feel his intense stare penetrating through you. 

Hoseok snaps, his face brightening. “Exactly! That’s why I want you to meet with this girl I know, maybe she can—”

Jungkook waves his hand in dismissal, leaning his other arm on the table. “I meant no, as in no, Hoseok, I am not a prude.” With those words, suddenly his audience extended from Hoseok to the entire team.

“Bro, you’re fucking with us. You kissed someone?”

“Well,” He starts, dropping his body onto the back of his seat. “I did it all.”

Your face is flushing crimson. Jungkook is really testing your patience today, isn’t he? First Dahyun’s confession and now this? Stuffing lettuce and a couple pieces of meat into your mouth, you’re attempting to pretend to keep yourself busy to the point that you’re not included in the conversation.

“No way,” Hoseok’s eyes are widened to the point it could fall out of its sockets. “Who was it? Do we know her?”

“I don’t think it matters.” Jungkook responds, stuffing some kimchi into Hoseok’s mouth to stop him from speaking any more. “You don’t need to hook me up then, right? Since I already lost my virginity?”

“Oh, it definitely matters,” Chimes in Jimin, another member from the team. He’s sitting on the other side of Jungkook, tugging on the younger male’s sleeve. “Tell us, tell us! You never even had a girlfriend. Was it a one night stand? Do you even do one night stands? You don’t even look like you sleep around.”

Irritated by the interrogation, he groans, aggressively ruffling his hair. He smells like your signature vanilla scented shampoo and you’re wondering if he stole some from your house or if he decided that it was going to be a staple item in his routine. “I don’t do one night stands. She’s just someone I wanted to do my first time with.”

“Wow, she sounds special. You gonna ask her out or what?” Jimin asks, body shifting closer to Jungkook. 

“What makes you think he likes her?” Hoseok counters. 

Jimin rolls his eyes at his teammate before attacking back. “He specifically wanted her to take his virginity, what else could it be?”

Hoseok’s mouth drops, suddenly shocked by Jimin’s statement. “Wait, you make a good point. Forget that college chick taking your virginity, who’s this girl that you, yourself, chose to pop your cherry? I wanna know! Wait—” His lips tug into an impish grin as he turns to watch you cramming a portion full of kimchi into your mouth. “—You know.”

“What?” You say; if Yura was here right now she’d call you a hypocrite for speaking with your mouth full. “You know who the girl is. It’s impossible for Jungkook to hide anything from you, you definitely know who it is.”

“I—“ Just then, the door of the restaurant rings its bell, a figure making its way to the table as he screams a bright “hello!”

Kim Taehyung.

He’s still as handsome as ever. The last time you saw him, his hair was in between a shade of grey and a platinum but you’re not really sure since it was hidden underneath his graduation cap. He must have dyed it sometime when he left because the strands from his head are now a pastel pink. 

Taehyung was your unofficial hero, intruding in the conversation and capturing everyone’s attention away from you when you needed him the most.

The team is rowdy at the sight of their friend, taking turns shoving and pulling on him as he expresses his love for them in return, full of laughs and smiles. 

“I heard our little Kook won the 100m freestyle today!” He says, hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, dragging him into his embrace. “Congrats! I’m so proud of you! I also missed you, buddy. Look how far you’ve gone!”

Despite Jungkook dismissing your crush on Taehyung, he was still Jungkook’s role model. Taehyung did the impossible— snatching up the international scholarship and heading to a well renowned university to be part of their swim team. Everything Taehyung was is what Jungkook aspired to be.

“Thanks, Hyung. Can’t believe you’re back, what are you doing here?”

He lets out a chuckle, running his fingers through his soft locks that cascaded over his face. Taehyung was like the lead character of an anime; a flawless personality and attractive. Maybe the only negative thing about him was that he never pursued a relationship and girls were always left rejected, jilted and disappointed... why does that sound familiar?

“Decided to come back during my semester break. Where’s your love?” Right when he says the term of endearment, his eyes meet yours, your cheeks burning hot. “Taehyung.”

The way he says your name sounds smooth and sweet like honey to the point it’s what you want yourself to drown in. He’s advancing toward you, arms opened and welcoming you into his hold. “Missed you, bub. We should meet during my time here and catch up.”

From behind, Jungkook’s nose is scrunched up in disgust. Bub?

The night was filled with stories of the States that Taehyung shares amongst the group; how he managed to get lost after getting on the subway, or a time where he ordered the wrong thing off the menu but it was a great experience, or the time he dyed his hair the wrong color because of miscommunication with the barber. Regardless, Taehyung was living an entirely different life in America and although alone, he seemed... happy.

Eventually, the owners of the restaurant have to escort you guys out of the place, overstaying your welcome there.

“Shall we head for dessert?” Jungkook asks, hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

“This late?”

“Maybe places aren’t open but... you wanna stay over the night? I’ve been waiting patiently throughout dinner to hear what you’re going to say and I don’t want to leave the night without hearing it.”

Right. You were supposed to confess to Jungkook tonight. You had finally gathered enough courage to confess to your best friend of almost two decades, possibly throwing your friendship on the line. Should you even do it? Was it even worth it?

“Please.” Jungkook begs, pouting with his puppy eyes. And as if he could almost read your mind, he adds, “Nothing you can say will make me leave you.”

“Fine. Let’s go.”

Out of the shower, you point with your head toward the bathroom, trying to grab Jungkook’s attention by calling out his name. You’re in a baggy shirt you borrow from him and a pair of shorts you accidentally left over, too lazy to actually walk over next door to grab your own clothes for the night. “It’s your turn.”

He swallows. His stare is glued to your exposed, smooth, freshly shaved legs that you flaunt previously in achievement. Eyes roaming over your body, he feels his lower stomach stir when he notices how obvious it is you’re not wearing a bra— the sudden change in temperature from the steaming hot shower to the cool windy night in his bedroom perks your nipples through the thin fabric.

You crinkle your brows. “What are you drooling over? Go shower, you reek of chlorine.”

After he quickly shifts off the bed and showers, he comes out, dressed in his own pjs, pulling the covers off the bed that you’re sitting underneath.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“We still need to talk.”

“There’s no dessert here.” You state firmly.

He glares at you, sliding into the empty space beside you before snagging the blanket to drape over the both of you. “Just think of me. I’m sweet.”

You hum, lying down closer to him to gather his radiating body warmth as he wraps his arms around your frame. “More like bitter.”

Jungkook must have been spent. His breathing was slowing down and his lids were heavy from such an eventual yet long day that it even shut him up from responding with a comeback.

When what feels like hours later, you’re still awake, head resting on his chest with his arm placed underneath your body. “This feels right,” you say to no one in particular, tapping your finger against his peck. “Everything about you feels right.”

Letting out a sigh, you continue. “Watching and hearing about all these girls that are head over heels for you eventually get rejected or forgotten about is discouraging. It makes me feel as though I’m just like them— pining for a guy who would never love me back. I remember when I told you about my crush on Taehyung and you immediately shot down my beliefs. I hated you for that until I realized that you were right. Maybe I didn’t like him because once I knew how I felt about you, my crush... seemed so small in comparison.” You’re tracing imaginary shapes on his body with your pointer finger, murmuring while scrambling through your disorganized thoughts.

“Yura convinced me to tell you how I feel. I don’t understand what goes on in her mind but she thinks that you’ve been hinting things to me. Even so, I’m scared of losing you as a friend. What if this doesn’t work out? What if you reject me and we resent each other?” You clench your jaw, taking in a deep breath before rounding up every brave cell in your body. “Regardless of that... I think I love you.” and instantaneously, you feel the weight of burden lift from your shoulders. Even though he’s asleep through your confession, it felt good to at last say those words confidently out loud.

But Jungkook’s not asleep. He’s wide awake, freezing in place like a statue, careful not to startle you. You love him.

[lofi-tophat]

Let’s talk about the 70s punk scene and HWS England

I sometimes feel that the fandom doesn’t give England’s love for punk/rock music much justice. Some authors usually write about this human AU in which Arthur wants to be a rockstar and some others plainly avoid the topic whatsoever. Which is a pity because I actually believe the whole character has a deep punk reference, specially regarding appearence (might expand on this in another post but basically, for me, England seems like some random bushy browed anime 70s punk guy who suddenly has to put on a suit and attend world meetings, which is both fascinating and hilarious).

So I thought maybe we could dive a bit into very general punk history and then I’d like to share with you some hc regarding England’s involvement with punk culture in general (if you just want to read the hcs just scroll down to the last paragraph with the bullet ponts).

My experience in punk stuff is actually that I’m kind of a metalhead lol. Metalheads and punks had and probably still have a deeply-rooted rivalry. However, punk influenced metal a lot, and metal also influenced punk. So I stumbled upon many punk facts while browsing about my favorite metal bands. 

Take this as historical hetalia... but counterculture historical hetalia :D (which is something we need more in the fandom, btw, I know military history is cool but its also cool how humans expressed themselves through art, fashion and music when they felt the pressure of authority and the frustration of society).

Historical context

Let’s return a bit in time and remember the 60s. The 60s were this blessed time in which people tried to defeat the establishment with peace and love. The hippie movement is from this decade and it influenced a lot on how people thought and behaved. In terms of counterculture, I must say this is a fascinating time in history (I recently discovered psychodelic science and its so incredible what was being talked back then).

Anyways, although a lot of young people were into this discourse of love and peace, some weren’t really that happy about it. In Europe, the post-war situation was sad and a lot of young people either were jobless or had the shittiest jobs you could imagine. Politics were also depressing. This was the origin not only for punk but also for other genres of heavy music, such as metal: People who didn’t want to be all happy and peaceful and had the need to express their frustration and anger, shouting about how society was fucked up. They needed an outlet.

Origins of punk

The origins of punk music are actually not quite clear. In fact, the US and the UK both claim that punk music was born in their country. Funnily enough, my country also claims to be the origin of punk (I’ll leave this mini-doc for you. Sadly, I don’t think this is a correct claim, mainly because their music was in spanish and I doubt that major punk bands took them as reference. Its a cool band tho).

I have to side with americans on this: The arguments for the american origins of punk are quite solid. The Ramones were the first actual punk band out there. They were active since 1974. Their music had all the elements of punk and, chronologically, they were the first ones performing this type of sound.

However, they didn’t have the aesthetic. That actually was a british invention. American punk had still leather jackets, jeans and sneakers. British punk? Well, remember all those ripped pants and shirts you commonly associate with punk? Yes, those were the Sex Pistols all along. They were the ones introducing the attitude and the style. The Pistols had some insane performances and a huge shock-value that can’t be found in early american punk. So you can safely say that your image of what a punk is is based mainly on the Pistols (also, for singing anti-authoritarian lyrics, they actually were managed by some dude who had a fashion shop. So yeah...).

Punk attitude or philosophy or whatever

The reason why I addressed the rockstar thing at the start of the post is because I find it curious. Punk is characterized by the whole Do It Yourself attitude and breaking with the establishment. Anarchism in punk is scandalizing people since there is no authority whatsoever. There wasn’t really any deep philosophy behind all of this, nor any political movement. Punk has nothing to do with a formal anarchist philosophy (which actually exists and has nothing to do with disorder). However, punk is characterized by the anti-establihsment lyrics. Remember, this is all about scandalizing people (which sometimes took great lengths). Presentations from british punk bands were also quite wild those days. They involved a lot of insults, spitting and, of course, pogo.

So, it is obvious that there is this deep concern about turning into a sellout, a pretty common fear in any underground scene. Authenticity was encouraged. Aspiring rockstars really didn’t have much mercy in the community so to speak, at least in this specific period. 

I would also like to add how punk had other aspects beside the music. For example, fanzines were pretty popular in the punk scene in the 70s and a great way to engage with what was going on with bands and music. I remember also this interview of this band in which they remembered how a very high guy decided to recite his poem while the band was playing. So, yeah, literature, illustration, fashion and other stuff were involved in the punk scene too.

British punk was also characterized by a very nihilistic attitude and a total disregard for previous influences. 1977, a song by The Clash, stated:

No Elvis, Beatles, or the Rolling Stones!

Now, for the important stuff: The music. Punk music is all about being simple. Punk musicians aren’t really known for their virtuosity in their instruments, something that actually inspired musicians from a lot of heavy bands later. In fact, the famous Sid Vicious from the Sex Pistols never could learn how to play the bass. So the band disconnected his instrument from the amplifier and he only had to pretend to play. The guy actually tried to learn how to play bass but music wasn’t exactly his talent. He had tons of punk attitude though, and that was the reason why his band didn’t kick him out. 

Vocals are usually shouted, the rythm is fast and the riffs are quite simple. In fact, there is this famous publication on a 1976 british fanzine that stated:

This is a chord

This is another

This is a third

Now form a band

HWS England and the 70s punk scene and onwards 

Thanks to his immortality, it is obvious that England had to experience the 70s in all their glory (what a lucky bastard). Was he there? Hell yes. As I explained before in some of my hc posts, nations represent the population more than their Government, so I really believe that England felt the frustration from that post-wwii decade and he probably also felt pissed about this. Working for the Government must have felt really frustrating during those years. 

In the past, he probably would have tried to take his ship and sail the seas or whatever, but that was not possible in the modern era. I guess that’s how he discovered punk. 

Now, rock existed in England before punk. I mean, the Beatles, duh. So Arthur wouldn’t have been completely ignorant about rock music in general. Contrary to popular belief I don’t imagine him being that much of a beatlemaniac though. Sure he likes them, but the music didn’t resonated with him as much. But boy, that first time he heard the Pink Fairies in 1971 (Yes, this was an actual band, a proto-punk band)? Yeah, he could relate more to that.

More detailed stuff here:

Pubs were crucial for the development of punk music. They were these spaces in which bands could play, a venue to discover new music. Yes, Arthur must have been a regular in a lot of these pubs.

Fanzines probably fascinated Arthur as an outlet for his own writings and silly drawings. He probably created a cringey pseudonym and collaborated with a lot of them. 

Its canon that England likes to critic american movies, and, taking from there, I think he’s the type of guy that has an opinion for everything. So I can imagine him also writing about what bands he enjoyed and what bands sucked.

Yeah, I can also see him being drunk and just reciting a poem while some rock band played behind.

With some ability, and a lil bit of tricks, Arthur could escape normal Government activities and perform with punk bands at nights. People were so into the music that he had no problem passing by.

Some cover art in CDs show Enlgland with a guitar and a bass (yes, not many people remember the bass cover art). So he probably plays both guitar and bass. He also probably plays the drums. Of course, he’s no virtuoso and he only knows the most basic stuff in those three instruments. I can see him being into songwriting tho.

Music equipment:

Guitar: Definetely a Telecaster

Bass: Fender P-bass and I can also see him having a Rickenbacker 4001

All these instruments are full with stickers. Punk instruments look really cool btw. (I wish my bass could look like those I see in certain punk bands)

England’s probably the kind of guy that doesn’t cut his strings at the head of his guitar.

He can actually play guitar/bass and sing at the same time.

England plays bass with a pick (what an asshole, we bassists know picks are not allowed)

Contrary to popular belief, I can see England appreciating good rock music from other countries and supporting them. He probably insists that punk music was born in the UK though.

1977: The Queen was going to celebrate her silver jubilee. And England had no problem with this. He really had none... but he HAD to be in that boat trip with the Sex Pistols. There’s no way he was going to miss that. He later had to explain his abscence that day to his Government officials (Btw, my hc for England’s relationship with his monarchy is “It’s complicated”. I can explain this later. Just remember that he was really pissed those days)

I can see Arthur in general being really involved with the scene. A lot of the stuff they were making actually matches with his canon interests and even personality. So he probably enjoyed those days and felt quite at home. I can even say that, for a long time, he hadn’t felt that kind of connection with his own people.

Although I can see England being attracted by the nihilism in the scene, I think his romanticism protects him from embracing it fully.

England had to live a double-life during this era. Not that it was new for him.

Arthur was pierced several times by some random, drunk teenagers. He doesn’t remember who tho. He was also drunk. Obviously his piercings close really fast, unless he has a permanent jewel in there.

I can actually see England expanding his music taste. Although punk is in his heart, it wouldn’t be strange for me that he’s overall a rock nerd and enjoys other genres, specially those with fast drum beats and heavy riffs. So I can see him having some metal favorites too, having a certain taste for prog rock and even digging into hardcore.

I’m still unsure if England would have been a massive Pistols fan as fanfics usually portray him. I mean, maybe? I would say he is definetely into acts such as the Pink Fairies (I mean, c’mon, its perfect). The Clash and the Damned probably also have a place in his heart.

After the punk scene dried out (the 80s weren’t that great for punk music although it was the birth of even heavier forms of music based on punk), England also was eager about the new genres flourishing during these times based on punk. Acts like folk punk might have had an appeal for him. He’s also fond of the punk-ish bands from the 90s like Green Day.

“Punk will never die!” shouted England while stage diving in some random small concert. He likes to support new bands these days.

The most fascinating thing, maybe in a more poetic sense, is that England’s immortality probably also helps him to keep up a punk spirit as much as his nationhood allows him, instead of aging poorly and angry like a lot of punk musicians... I mean, he aged poorly, but for other reasons lmao.

[lastluvbug]

Oh my god I read the one about Kalim’s suicide after waking up and got emotional all morning. The angst hurts but I can’t have enough of your writings. Can I have a continuation of it, with Kalim’s friends (the second years, the light music club, even Vil) after the whole thing? Like they try to go on with their life but it’s clear that nothing’s the same anymore and they miss the sunshine boy more than they thought they would? Thank you so much!

Toxins (Part 2)

Here we are, love! Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Language, referenced suicide

Crying wasn’t like Cater.

But after Kalim’s school-held funeral, that was all anyone could ever see him doing.

Oftentimes, it was silent sobbing into his hands, makeup streaked and runny, hiccups stifled. Comfort did little to provide solace, as he’d simply wipe away the water still leaking from his eyes, smile, and pretend like nothing ever happened. By the outside... it almost appeared as if nothing had ever happened. He was still as camera addicted as usual, still attended class and mingled with his fellow students.

The only difference was perhaps the breaks he had to take between every period, when he’d run to the bathroom to clear his eyes of the built up liquid they’d collected, or maybe it was the way his laughter felt dull, robotic even, or the way he began eating bigger and bigger portions at mealtimes. No one batted an eyelash at Cater when he had to be wrestled out of the mess hall by Trey, who already had himself busy with tending to a Riddle Rosehearts who’d become increasingly strict in upholding the Heartslabyul rules once again.

The serene noiselessness that enveloped the Music Room seemed all but soothing, a vacant memory filled with empty afterthoughts of what it used to be.

Sitting before Kalim’s abandoned drum set, Cater stared at his foggy reflection in the suspended cymbals, inept hands clutching drumsticks that should’ve been used to make a song. Eyes slitted, Cater cried once more, beads of translucent agony dripping onto the forgotten brass.

“...Cater? What are you doing here?”

The ginger looked up stiffly, the lights flicking into action as he made brief visual contact with the last remaining member of his club, Lilia Vanrouge. The shorter tilted his head slightly, standing at the foot of the door, as Cater exhaled a breathy laugh like he’d been so accustomed to doing. “Lilia... I just... needed some time alone, is all. Nothing to worry about.” He grinned, betraying the droplets that formed pretty trails over his visage.

“It’s... It’s about Kalim, isn’t it?” Lilia prodded, voice low as he stepped fully into the room. He didn’t require a reply, as Cater’s sagged shoulders and clutched drumsticks revealed everything he wanted to say. Solemnly hanging his head, Diasomnia’s vice lumbered over to his grieving peer, placing a gloved hand on his shoulder.

“It’s not fair...!” Cater wailed before Lilia had even touched him. “Kalim, he’s—he’s not here anymore, and it seems like I’m the only who cares! He was suffering, so much... and I didn’t... didn’t have the brain to see it!”

Lilia’s wide magenta orbs locked onto the weeping boy, whose blood red diamond had nearly been washed away thanks to the water pouring over it. Kneeling, he gripped his shoulders firmly, forcing Cater to meet his stare. “Cater, you can’t blame yourself for this. You couldn’t have known what he was feeling, none of us could. It’s a tragic thing, to have lost someone full of so much light, but you have to understand that—“

“...You don’t get it either... didn’t he mean anything to you people?!” Lilia froze midsentence, his hands pushed away harshly. “Why? Why am I the only one who cries over him?! I didn’t even know him that well... but I don’t want Kalim to be forgotten! I don’t want to wake up everyday, knowing he’ll never speak to me again! Never make music, with these stupid sticks!” He lamented, tossing said drumsticks away, the carved wood skidding across the hard flooring.

Draping his palms over his face, Cater sniffled, Lilia speechless on his knees. Huffing a petulant sigh, the ages-old student spoke quietly, as if afraid to shatter the glass he knew he treaded upon. “Cater, in all my years... I’ve seen my fair amount of demises.”

“H... Huh?” Cater stopped, makeup-blackened tears ceasing as well.

“I’ve had to watch friends, loved ones, even family, fall. Some by the hands of fate, and some by their very own. And thus, I’ve seen how humans react when it comes to such occurrences. You aren’t the only one who cries over the loss of Kalim, I guarantee it.”

“Th-That’s...” He trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut. “That’s not true! Riddle does nothing but hole himself away in his room and behead people anymore! You can’t call that coping!”

Lilia stared him in the eye, words frank and pithy. “Cater, tell me, what do you think he does behind those closed doors? Why do you think he’s become so sensitive to even the smallest of mistakes?”

“Because...! Because...” Cater caught himself, finding that he had no answer to retort with. “...I don’t... I don’t know.” He responded after a pause, holding his head in his hands.

“This is Riddle’s way of coping. Kalim was a dear classmate to him, and now, there’s no getting him back. He’s gone, we have to live with that truth.”

“Then what about you?! Why aren’t you reacting at all? Wasn’t he a dear clubmate to you?” Cater shot, voice thick with emotion as he felt the weight of Lilia’s authenticity asphyxiate him.

“Simply because I know that wherever Kalim is now, he’s happy,” he smiled softly, folding his hands in his lap, “I didn’t know that Kalim was suffering so, but now he’s cradled by the arms that come past death. He can finally rest easy, the way he was meant to in the first place.”

Cater looked down to Lilia, glassy eyes widening to see the glittery tears that pooled in the corners of the other’s, a soft smile at his lips. For a split moment, Cater could see no one but Kalim as Lilia opened his arms, amaranth streaked hair and magenta eyes shifting into pure white and candy red.

Hiccuping, Cater fell from the seat before the drums and onto his knees, being carefully pulled to Lilia’s smaller, yet wonderfully soft frame. Hit like a bag of bricks to the stomach, misery stole Cater’s oxygen as he sobbed, clinging to Lilia like a petrified animal.

“Don’t worry guys! We’ll do great at the performance tomorrow!”

“Keep it up, Cater! You sound amazing, just one more practice song!”

“Oh, a picture? I want in! Haha, cheese!”

Kalim’s childish voice echoed in the room, the ghost of a caress against his cheeks making the ginger bury himself under his peer’s chin. He felt as if he’d never forgive himself for overlooking Kalim’s pain, every heartfelt compliment or encouragement from him becoming bland and tasteless upon the realization that they were all empty words, meant to fill him up with false courage.

“Cater, he may be gone, but as long as he stays tucked in here,” Lilia tapped on his head, stroking his messy orange hair, “the magic will keep his memory alive. That’s perhaps the best gift we can give him; the guarantee that he won’t be forgotten. Not as long as you, and I, remember him, right?”

Cater inhaled a quivering breath, nodding as he parted from Lilia’s warm arms. “R-Right...” He nodded, using the back of his hands to clear away his streaked makeup, leaving a smudged mess instead.

“Let’s get you back to Heartslabyul. It sounds to me as if you could use a little conversation with your dorm leader.” Lilia prompted, standing and offering his hand, to which Cater accepted.

“If I must... oh! I need to get those first!” He cried, spinning on his heel and traipsing over to the discarded drumsticks. “I’ll keep them safe for him.” He grinned, earning a sly smirk from Lilia, who now stood outside of the club room.

Joining him, Cater sent a glance over the lone drum set, replaying the times from when Kalim would lean over them with a smile, waving as he entered, guitar strapped across his back. It didn’t hurt any less, but it reminded him that somewhere out there, Kalim was waiting for him, for that day when he’d return his drumsticks.

Switching the lights off, Cater shut the door cautiously, heart simultaneously lifted and sinking as he left, those invisible hands drifting away as he strode farther from the Music Room.

<————>

Treading down the busy hallway felt more like wading through swamp water to Silver, each student seeming to obstruct his path in any way they could.

Heading by the open walled courtyard, the grey haired Diasomnia boy’s gaze softened, looking to the vacant blue sky holding the warm sun as it’s only attraction. Running a finger over the rim of his grasped textbook, Silver sighed out of a brew containing both frustration and awe, feet instinctively guiding him about the corridors as his mind wandered elsewhere.

Every single waking day had been the shining example of a picture perfect storytelling, like something that had hopped from the pages of a fairytale since Kalim’s overcrowded funeral. No rain, no clouds, just the pure sky and the giggling sun.

Silver had half of a mind to call it unfair, for a tragedy to be celebrated and honored with such weather. Though, he had to admit he didn’t know Kalim as well as he wished. The boy had waltzed into and out of his life with alarming ease, both of them sharing the same class together and bonding over their blatantly oppositional personalities. If it weren’t for Kalim’s persistence, Silver probably wouldn’t have even remembered his name, let alone dig himself deep enough to call him a friend.

After his passing, Silver’s academic world just went... dull, following the same drearily tedious routine, and beginning to fall behind in even the most basic of lessons, simply because he found it impossible to keep himself awake for more than five minutes at a time.

Kalim had been the one to help him in class, had been the one to discover how to shake him to consciousness, both physically and mentally. Whenever Kalim was around, Silver wanted to skip his unhealthily long naps, painstakingly addicted to the boy’s light that practically radiated from him, filling any room he set foot in with warm magic.

Now that he laid still, taken by the hand of never ending slumber, Silver felt blank, like he was caged in the perpetual state of an emotional reset that declined progression.

So lost sorting through his muddled mind, Silver nearly fell backwards as he slammed headfirst into something firm, making his eyes water as he rubbed the liquid away, a yawn escaping his throat. “Hah? What’s this?” Growled a scratchy voice, making Silver snap to attention. He came face to face with a brawny Savanclaw lackey, a freakish two heads taller than Silver, the student nearly shrinking into a ball at the murderous glare sent down his direction. “Ah, it’s one of those Diasomnia pricks. What, beating us to a pulp in Magift and trampling over our test scores isn’t enough? Now you gotta own the whole damn hallway?”

“H-Hey, I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about... If I could just—“ Silver attempted to reason, trying to get past the wall of muscled students, all bigger and stronger than him.

“You wanna play dumb now?” The other rasped, grabbing Silver by the collar of his uniform and lifting him in the air as he stalked dangerously close. “Listen here, bastard, just because my dorm leader tucks his tail at the sight of you doesn’t mean I’ll do the same! I have no idea who you think you are, but to me, you’re no better than baby cats who yip—“

“Alrighty fellas, that’s quite enough!”

Twisting with what little leeway available to him, Silver found the source of the voice to be Ruggie Bucchi, another member of the beastly dorm. “Ruggie? The hell do you think you’re doing?” The bigger boy barked, tightening his grip on Silver.

Crossing his arms and smiling slyly, Ruggie marched over to him, not an ounce of fear on his baby-face. “Look at him, bud. The poor guy’s practically shaking in his shoes! I think you’ve done enough to scare him, so put him down, you’re tarnishing the Savanaclaw name.”

“Enough? He ran into me! If I don’t threaten him now, then who’s gonna put him in his place later?!”

Ruggie clucked his tongue, floppy ears twitching in annoyance. “Let’s get one thing straight here; you weren’t threatening him, you were aggressively complaining. First, comparing him to a baby cat, which by the way, would be called a kitten, is neither intimidating nor masculine. Second, dangling him in the air like a doll proves nothing more than what you lack in brain, you make up for in brawn, hence why you’re practically a brick wall of muscle. Third, if you’re going to threaten someone, do it properly, you brutish simpleton.” Ruggie smirked, standing on his tip toes as he narrowed his eyes.

“Now, I suggest you tuck tail and scram before you show everyone here that you’re as composed as a bitch in heat.” He threatened, hands on his hips as the animalistic boy’s ears drooped, heeding the maliciously ingenious hyena and dropping Silver, who was close to choking thanks to the constricting pressure on his throat. Legs too weak to stabilize his body, he collapsed in a heap on the ground, textbook flying a few feet away, hacking his lungs out while trying to drink the sweetly refreshing air.

After the roughly uncivilized students scampered off, whispering curses and profanity Ruggie scoffed at, he huffed, bouncing over to Silver and extending a single gloved hand. “Um... you okay? They didn’t hurt you, right?” He asked.

Spluttering into his elbow, Silver took the hand, brushing the dust off of his black school suit and suppressing the yawn that fought to rise in his newly released esophagus. “...I’m fine. Thanks for the save...” He bowed awkwardly, avoiding the shorter’s stare. Without anything left to say, he stood turning away. “See you.” He sluggishly bid, starting to leave.

Ruggie was inches away from letting him go, until he tossed his glance to the floor, noticing the thick book fallen face first a few steps from him. Scooping it up, he flipped through a few of the pages, hoping to find something interestingly personal before returning it to the original owner. What he found was... beyond what he’d imagined.

It was a history textbook, the very first page carrying Silver’s signature, a cursive so intricate, it bordered calligraphy with all of its whorls and intercepting lines. At a glance, it didn’t look anything worthwhile, a few scribbled notes here and there but nothing out of the ordinary. Secrets weren’t revealed until Ruggie flipped to the center of the book, his normally neutral face contorting out of shock and intrigue.

The writing on the edges of the paper, where the fine print of knowledge past left indents and gaps of white space lay, were little notes penned in two vastly different handwritings, one quite obviously belonging to Silver. The other was unrecognizable to Ruggie, but reading the script was what led to him the creator.

“Silver-kun, Silver-kuuuuun! Did you hear what Trein said? I was too busy doodling!!”

“Kalim, you’re going to fail the class if you keep nodding off, y’know.”

“Yeah, I know I know..... but at least I stay awake most of the time!”

“Pssh, so mean, using that against me! Sit with me at lunch today, and maybe I’ll share my notes.”

“Oh! Alright, Silver!”

Ruggie was blown away by the authored conversation he stumbled upon, reminded of the distance growing between owner and eavesdropper as he sent a startled look up from the book. “H-Hey! Silver!” He called, having learned the sleepy Diasomnia student’s name.

The other paused, looking over his shoulder to watch as Ruggie weaved through the river of people, holding out the textbook once he’d managed to stand beside the grey haired. “You dropped this back there... it is yours, isn’t it?” He asked, feigning an ignorance Silver doubted.

“Yes, thank you very much. But... how did you know my name?”

“Eh, you’re from Diasomnia. I bet the whole corridor of people here know your name.” Ruggie waved, almost sweat dropping.

“...If you say so. Thank you for returning my book... I’ll be out of your hair now.” The other sighed, tucking said book under his arm while wearing an expression that simply felt subdued.

“Ah—wait! I’m pretty sure you’re a second year, can I walk you to class? Wouldn’t want to run into someone again, right?” Ruggie wasn’t given a verbal response, only a hitch in Silver’s movements and a mild nod.

With his arms fanned out from his head, Ruggie walked alongside the enigmatic teen, who remained eerily silent, his hazy eyes and apathetic stare giving him the hint that he was lost deep in thought, a thought that must’ve been distasteful. All too altruistically eager to break the silence, Ruggie brought up thr only topic that seemed to occupy anyone’s mind. “So... you were friends with Kalim?”

Silver flinched, directly halting in his tracks, eyes hidden by his overgrown bangs. “W-What... What did you know about him?” He asked, the flow of students never once ceasing around them.

“I... well, other than the fact that he was rich... not much.” Ruggie admitted, fiddling with an ear.

“That’s it? That’s all you knew about him, even as a second year yourself?”

“Wait, how did you—?”

“He talked about you like you were some kind of idol. He talked about everyone that way.” Silver whispered, eyes still hidden. “He was what everyone wanted to be, the only real person here who didn’t carry any ill intentions for anyone. Even that Viper, who used him for what? Years?” He continued, hands clutching the fabric of his shirt.

Ruggie had nothing to say. What could he say? Kalim, to him at least, was a fun acquaintance, a buddy he’d occasionally fall back on for spare change or home cooked meals, of which were made by Jamil Viper, the Viper that Silver was quite obviously placing the entirety of the blame upon.

While drama wasn’t something Ruggie was aiming to stir up, the hyena had to admit... he didn’t find anything Jamil did to be wrong. Kalim had ideas, grand as they may be, but he hadn’t the skill or the focus to execute them, pushing the work onto Jamil and Jamil alone. Ruggie saw no problem with the vice using his talent the way he did.

“I wonder how he feels now... knowing that he’s the one who drove Kalim to such measures. But... I can’t say I’m any better. How could I have been so ignorant...? I may as well have damned him to death too, watching him deteriorate every day. Watching him... fake that cheery smile, and never doing a thing about it.” Silver seemed to be working himself into a craze, hands covering his ears as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Hey, don’t take this on yourself y’know...”

“Why not? Tell me Ruggie, why. Not? My ignorance is what killed him, and now, I have to sit through class after class after class of reminders. Reminders of how I failed my duty to—“

“Geez, you’re annoying,”

“H... Huh?” Silver froze, finally opening his eyes to meet Ruggie’s cheeky grin.

Ruggie offered no explanation as he grabbed a hand, dragging him off through the hallway. “I may not be the best at comforting, and I’m certainly no Kalim, but... I think it’ll be okay. That’s what he liked to say, right? Yeah, he’s not here anymore, but are you really going to let what he believed in die?”

Struck speechless similarly to his rockstar guardian, Silver gaped like a fish out of water, silently allowing Ruggie to pull him along. “He knew there was good in everyone,” Except himself, Ruggie thought, but had the brain to hold his tongue, “he’d want you to move on, to love in his place. This, what you’re feeling now, is the farthest thing from what he wanted. So... you should smile. You can live without Kalim, you’re stronger than that.”

Ruggie stopped, a few steps away from Silver’s designated classroom, holding his clutched hand up as he spoke, smiling gently, like he actually believed the speech he by chance strung together. Still, any excuse for a better hope was a good one to Silver, so, he ducked his head, forcing out giggles that after a minute, ended up too real. “U-Uh... did I say something funny?” Ruggie stammered, eyes wide in confusion.

“No, it’s just—“ Silver let go of Ruggie, lavender eyes shiny with the aftermath of laughter, “—you remind me of him.”

Ruggie flushed, turning red to his ears as he spun away, covering his mouth and pretending to cough. “Y-Yeah, sure, whatever. Come on, let’s get you to class!”

Chuckling, Silver sped up to close the rapidly growing space between them, running a clammy hand through his argent hair. In complete honesty, he meant what he’d said.

Albeit too assiduous and orderly to be a carbon copy, Ruggie held one same trait that so painfully reminded him of Kalim; his confidence. While Kalim was a leader, Ruggie preferred to follow. While Kalim was extravagantly grandiose, Ruggie was self-effacing and simple. While Kalim had dreams of far off lands and magic carpet rides, Ruggie stayed firmly planted on the ground.

But for certain, the one thing they both shared the same substantial confidence to just... be themselves.

And it was that confidence that made Silver wish to cling to Ruggie, protect the light that he failed to do before.

“Oi! Silver! You coming?” Ruggie called hands on his knees as he waved from further down the hall.

“Hm? Oh, yes, yes I’m coming!” Silver smile back, having realized he stood alone in the middle of the passage. Once again dashing to join the hyena, Silver made a vow, a vow that no one would hear other than himself.

“I promise Kalim, I’m not forgetting you. I’ll never forget you. But this time... this time I want to do things right.”

<————>

The rushing of water from the tap was the sole sound in the Mostro Lounge, accentuated only by the brisk chill that followed the lifeless restaurant-esque space.

It’d been that way since morning, the hollow flooring catching the footsteps that walked over it and tossing the sound against the walls, creating an echo Floyd Leech didn’t think was possible, what with the amount of furniture and decor lined about. Switching off the water, and the only audible commotion in the lounge, he tossed himself onto a stool before the polished bar, setting his hat aside as he laid his head within his large, white gloved hands. A sigh escaped him as he threaded his fingers through his deep teal hair, almost feeling as though he was glued to his seat.

Despite the deafening quiet that would blow any normal person’s eardrums out, Floyd closed his eyes, heavy from premature exhaustion, and heard not the empty silence, but instead voices. More specifically, he heard Kalim’s voice; his cheering, the laughs and giggles that seemed reserved for Floyd and Floyd exclusively, even his sobs after he was thrown across the desert by one of his trusted companions.

Swimming through the sea of his memories made his eyes burn with an indescribable solemnity, his hands tugging rather roughly at his hair as the memories grew into a thousand pictures behind his shut eyelids, each of them painting Kalim an angel in all of his bubbly optimism. And while Floyd was naturally agile in water, even he found himself drowning in the sorrow that replaced a past stemmed from charm and delight.

Broken like a hammer through glass, he was all but ripped from the isolation of his over imaginative brain by the doors of the Lounge being thrown open, the conversation of the two welcoming themselves in drifting over to his sensitive ears. He paid them no heed as he slumped on the bar counter, inexplicably cold while heartache whittled away at his chest.

“Ah, Floyd. Jade and I were just discussing, and there’s been an alarming drop in the amount of customers attending— Floyd?” Azul faltered, cutting his debriefing short as he noticed the state of the lithe eel.

Hunched over, head collected in his hands as he carded his fingers through his hair, Floyd looked the model of a kicked puppy, not a trace of his carefree smile on his lips. Beyond confused, Azul turned to Jade, who simply folded his hands and smiled politely, mincing over to his brother.

Jade didn’t need to do too much investigation to find the source of Floyd’s troubles, already knowing full well that the reverse of his brother’s attitude was a byproduct of Kalim Al-Asim’s death. The funeral was what sealed the transformation, Floyd’s laugh disappearing altogether as he turned away from the outside world, whether he was aware of it or not. Most days, he tucked himself away in the Mostro Lounge, polishing the same glass until in could be used as a mirror, or staring blankly into the distance, becoming especially clingy to both Jade and Azul. Any prodding was met with a lackluster response, any attempts to push him towards re-venturing back into the convoluted world of society with dejected refusals.

Sitting in the stool beside the mourning boy, Jade reached out, settling his hand on Floyd’s back as the other jumped at the touch. “Floyd?” He asked, earning his brother’s familiar glazed attention.

“Jade...? Oh, Azul, too... I’m sorry, did I do something wrong~? You guys look like you’ve seen a ghost...” He laughed unimpressively, placid smile not quite reaching his dual colored eyes.

“Floyd, please explain what is troubling you. I hate seeing my brother this way.” Jade pleaded, leaning on a fist as he expectantly stared at him.

“E-Eh? Where’d you guys get that idea from? Hehe, I’m alright, Azul, Jade.”

“No, Floyd, you’re not. As your colleague and friend, I ask that you indulge us on your turmoil.” Azul chimed in at Floyd’s nonchalant display, years of memorizing his roller coaster-like moods revealing the cracks in his façade.

Drooping defeatedly, his smile vanished as he fell onto the counter, tracing imaginary shapes into the smooth marble. “I... I miss him...” Floyd whispered, only audible because of the noiselessness.

Jade perked up, sharing a pitiful look with Azul before rubbing circles onto Floyd’s back. “You’re referring to Kalim, correct?”

The other nodded, sighing heavily as he hazed blankly at the positively reflective surface below him. “It’s—I just can’t... wrap my head around the fact that he’s gone... Sea Otter is gone, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.” He said quietly, the sting in his eyes returning as he swallowed thickly.

Azul tipped his hat as Jade’s circles ceased. The passing of Kalim hadn’t particularly affected Azul, as ashamed as he was to admit it. It, at the very least, was supposed to attract more customers, in need of a distraction in the form of fine food and drinks. But for Floyd to have lost his spark... the cogs in Azul’s brain couldn’t comprehend how the two had even managed to become close after Jamil’s overblot.

“I remember,” Floyd started, sliding a thin finger over the edge of the counter, “how he used to laugh at everything. Sea Otter was so energetic~! Always bouncing to and fro, like a hyper little siren. When did... when did that all stop? Why did it all stop? Is it a curse from land-dwellers to feel this way...?” Floyd asked his friends, seeking genuine answers to his inquiries.

“Floyd, what you are feeling is grief. You are mourning over the loss of a... a comrade.” Jade hesitated, speech for once unrehearsed.

“But he was more than a comrade to me, Jade! I didn’t feel so... out of place with Kalim. He embraced the world around him, in all of it’s cruelty, with open arms. I don’t get it! He—he... he...!” Floyd wavered, hand reaching up to prod at his gold eye, which now spilled thin water over the rim of his cheekbones.

He was... crying? Why was he crying? Wasn’t that something said to be impossible for merfolk to accomplish?

“Hey, Azul... what’s this?” He asked with a joyless laugh. “Am I melting...?” He smiled bitterly, the current dribbling down in an irritatingly slow pace.

Not half a second was given to Floyd before he was enveloped by two arms, in all of their lissome strength. Azul couldn’t think of another thing to do; he’d never seen him genuinely cry before. “No, you’re not melting, Floyd.” The hug was stiff, the tallest eel’s hands on the edge of his seat while water scattered about.

“I’m scared, Azul...” he whined, sniffling. Jade flinched, the downright hopelessness of Floyd’s tone striking a place in his heart that nearly brought him to tears as well. “I can’t—I can’t lose you two. I can’t. Please, promise you won’t leave me, like Sea Otter did?” The very thought of being alone was enough to bring Floyd to trembles, was enough for him to toss away his pride as he looked to his brother, his friend.

Moving as swiftly as the flowing waters of the sea, Jade lifted himself from his seat, twining his arms around both Azul and Floyd, most of the focus turned towards the latter. “Don’t be ridiculous. As your brother, it is my responsibility to always be by your side. Always. The death of a friend doesn’t change that, nor will anything else.” Jade soothed, pressing his forehead to Floyd’s.

“Ah, Jade is right. While I may not share familial ties, I believe it is my duty to stay with you two. After all, who else would have the impertinence to stand up to your spontaneity, Floyd? Certainly no one from around here, I’ll say that much.” Azul added, earning a chuckle from the comforted.

“So... it’s a promise then? You won’t leave me?”

“Never,” Jade and Azul replied confidently, successfully sealing off the last of Floyd’s tears as he used his gloves to soak up the excess.

Finally returning the hug with ten times the force, Floyd sighed out of relief. Though, he still felt the incomparable pang of gloom over the loss of one of his companions, the twang was cushioned by the soft words of his near-family, their eager reminder that even if their world was changing, they’d have one another to rely on.

Nothing could replace a life, Floyd knew that eerily too well, but that doesn’t mean that he couldn’t move on. It might take a week, it might take a year, but as long as he still had them to guide him, then maybe the pain would ebb away in a matter of months.

With their promise written across the slate of his heart, Floyd let his laughter splash across the lounge.

Some part of him felt that if Kalim could see him, hear him right now, he’d been laughing too.

<————>

“Roi de Poison, may I come in?”

“Door’s unlocked, Rook.”

Granted access by the curt invitation, Rook welcomed himself into Vil’s room, having returned from yet another rowdy wrangling session of dealing with Epel. The blonde was expecting to see his dorm leader fussing over his presentation, either in the form of reestablishing his blade sharp cosmetics, or redoing his naturally flawless locks. Instead, he was met with a scene that broke his fully enchanted heart, the magical symphony in his ears screeching to a halt.

Vil sat at his elegantly carved vanity, a thick book with yellowed pages flipped to somewhere close to the center spread before him, twisting an equally as golden bottle in his hand while the other tousled his loose hair, free of it’s usual braided crown. What perhaps made Rook double-take the most was the all natural look Vil wore, the tips of his nose and ears dyed an unhealthy red as not a smear of makeup hid the semi-wet trails reflected in the spotless mirror.

“Vil? Fairest, what ever is the matter?” Rook inquired hastily, skidding over to the beauty’s side and kneeling before him, feathered hat temporarily set on the floor while his head of canary hair still rose beyond the edge of the vanity table. “Vil...?”

“Do you know... what this is, Rook?” Vil asked out of the blue, holding the golden vial to the light.

“...If I had to guess, I’d say that would be an antidote.” Rook responded, having studied nearly as hard as Vil on the subject of poisons and cures.

“Correct. This... This is the antidote that could’ve saved him. I could’ve saved him.” Rook could taste the burn of Vil’s self doubt, the blame he took upon his shoulders as he desperately tried to look into Vil’s lavender irises.

“Non, Vil. It’s been said before, and I’ll not stutter when I say it again. You cannot control anyone but yourself. What Kalim did was of his own volition, you could not have done a thing to prevent it.”

“Do not lie to me, Rook Hunt!” Vil shrieked, rattling the table after he slammed his fist onto it. “If it weren’t for the poison I handcrafted, Kalim would be alive right now! If I would’ve chased after him the minute I realized the bottle was missing, then maybe—no, he would not have had the opportunity to use it! It’s my fault this happened, and now the blood’s on my hands!” Vil shrilled, delicate hands concealing his face.

Struggling to create a refute, Rook placed his hat back onto his head, standing to his full height. Circling behind Vil, he stared into the mirror, at the broken beauty who wallowed in the depths of his own despair before him. He loathed seeing Vil in such a state, poise and elegance replaced with a fiery fury aimed at no one but himself. He couldn’t bear to see him tear himself down.

Exhaling quietly, Rook laid his gloved hands over Vil’s, gently prying them away. Picking up a brush, he let it hover above his mauve-and-platinum hair, only setting it down on his scalp when Vil nodded ever so marginally. “Vil, my king, the fairest of us all, it pains me to no end to see you like this. Do you realize how dishonest it is to harbor this blame?” Rook rhetorically asked, noting the way his green orbs locked with purple for a split moment.

Brushing through the last section of Vil’s thin hair, he set the brush aside, peeling off his gloves to instead grab a comb, folding and looping the strands as he continued to speak. “What Kalim did was out of your jurisdiction. Yes, you may have made the poison, but he was the thief who stole it. Yes, you were too late to have realized it was missing, but had you sent me after him, he would’ve drank it before I could save him.” Rook assured, sealing off the crown and moving onto the next area in need of his expertise.

Lifting Vil’s chin with a curled finger, Rook brought a new besom to his eyes, painting on a deep violet shadow over the lashes, of which he diligently extended with top of the line mascara. Having someone else so casually apply his cosmetics made Vil’s shoulders sag as they released their tension, almost leaning into the affectionate sweeps were it not for his budding insecurity.

“How can you say that when it’s quite obviously my fault?” Vil murmured once his vice paused to reach for a shimmery lipgloss.

“Don’t you see? Kalim would’ve found a way to end his life with, or without your assistance. You were just naive enough to fall for his game, and thus, you now hold within you a guilt that doesn’t belong. Mon ange, let this grief go.” Rook finished, capping the gloss and smiling broadly, waving towards the mirror.

Turning to his reflection, Vil did nothing to hide the satisfied grin that formed, appreciative of the effort the blonde-haired hunter was investing to comfort him. “What if... deep down, I still blame myself, at the end of the day?” He asked, twirling a section of his hair around his painted nail.

“Fret not! I shall sing you lullabies until you can rest soundly at night. This tragedy will be a memory far faded after I’m done!” Rook sang, offering a hand as he bowed.

“Alright, Rook...” Vil chuckled, taking his hand and squaring his shoulders as he stood, balancing on his thin heels. “...I hope you will make use of that promise.”

“Anything for you, Vil. Now let us depart for supper, the dorm was ordered to keep their paws to themselves until you arrived.” Rook urged, spinning over to the door. Swinging it open, he gestured out to the hall, smiling. “Shall we?”

“Indeed. Let’s go.” Vil nodded, clicking out as Rook followed close behind.

Kalim still weighed on his mind, the boy’s peacefully shut eyes as he laid in that glass casket forever an image burned into his brain. He made a dire mistake that day, leaving the poison unguarded in his bathroom, even just creating it in the first place, but Rook helped Vil realize a truth that eased the sting, if only lightly.

He hadn’t known Kalim well, the first full conversation between them only occurring the day of his demise. Part of Vil found solace in the fact that Kalim’s death was quick, a brighter alternative to anything else Kalim would’ve attempted. The other part wept for what his knowledge of poison brought, the pain he’d inflicted on not only Kalim, but the rest of the school in tandem.

Still, holding his head high, Vil wasn’t going to let the suffering crumble him. Antidote clenched in a fist, Vil dropped it in his concealed pocket, the vision of elegance and poise.

Though he may have had a hand in Kalim’s downfall, he wasn’t going to let himself make a foolish mistake like that again.

<————>

Kalim Al-Asim’s death did not come in an ear piercing bang or an uproarious festival. It came not in sweet whispered nothings or love brimmed words. It came not as peaceful or soothing, but by preference spotlighted with nothing except a dark room, a clear night, and the whitest moon the sky had to offer.

Time had been at fowl play, some days passing within the sound snap of a finger, and some lasting for aeons painted in dull colors of anguish and shame. The people were mortified by the discovery, even more so to find that the act hadn’t been committed by the sinful nature of another, but instead the self destructive hatred of himself. Blame had been a projectile, shot into anyone who even held his name inside the confines of their brain, running amongst them like a smooth stone over a pond of ice until there was no one left to terrorize.

The wayward mechanism of coping bore down on everyone, weighing them with ten thousand pounds of a hopelessness they could neither hide nor run from. At their darkest hour, the entire venerated school of Night Raven College was brought to their knees by the passing of optimism personified, their trust a fractured knife used to stab skepticism and condemnation into the hearts of anyone who dared raise their bowed heads.

But even the dark of night must soon come to an end, the sun of a new day bringing a dusk painted in the hues of resumption over a horizon of black. It started with an idea, a finicky thought that grew until it could no longer be held within the sole mind of the creator, escaping from a pair of lips upturned in a rare smile that shortly spread to the listeners.

The idea spread like a contagion, from one to another, dorm to dorm, student to teacher, until every person shared the unison objective, some setting upon a laborious work to meet the desired outcome. Tirelessly, the students used the extents lf the gifts bestowed upon them, whether that be the farthest reaches of magic, or the unique skill to create banquets of delectable food.

It was far from a single day job, many returning to their rooms with sore muscles and blistered hands, the only thing driving them through their hard hours being the vision of the payoff come the conclusion. The prize of their exertion was a spectacle even a stranger would find extraordinarily echanted.

On a pedestal above the normal person’s head, crafted from the best brass up for the taking, stood a perfect recreation of Kalim Al-Asim, each detail scrutinized by the expecting eyes of none other than the mourning Jamil Viper.

Though he took it upon himself to mold the finer minutiae, he accepted every numerous offer of assistance with the bulky creation of the base, sending out handwritten thanks to each participant. Using too many sleepless nights, Jamil poured his strength, his breath, his heart into smoothing out the edges, refining the statue until it looked so real, he wouldn’t have been surprised if it up and moved.

The unveiling had been as palatial as Kalim would’ve wanted it to be; Jamil planning and throwing a celebration that welcomed nearly every resident of the campus, brandishing and explaining the statue in a way that made even Mozus Trein’s heart of steel melt.

Still... standing before it felt surreal, almost sorrowful. Dressed in his dorm garb and clutching his signature staff in his left arm, he waved out to the Scarabia he protected with his free one, a broad smile swelling his cheeks, eyes wide and curious. It had been the students’ choice to place him at the entrance of their dorm, believing Kalim’s face a fitting first sight upon entrance.

Drenched with gold in the early morning light, he smiled angelically as a lone figure knelt before the pedestal, hand tracing over the plaque carved into the stone base.

“I hope... I hope this did you justice. It was all I could give you for now; I know it’s not much, but this way, your legacy will carry on.” Jamil whispered, laying his forehead on the smooth metal.

Though he may not live to see it, Jamil wished with the very power of his soul that Kalim’s statue would last a lifetime, perhaps even longer as he stood and left, the words engraved finally visible:

He who breathed laughter,

He who stood proud,

He who was strong as the current of the ocean.

In fond memory of Kalim Al-Asim, the light in a world of shadow.

May we all discover the same strength he held.

Oki dokes! I didn’t originally plan for a continuation, so it took a little long bit to spark my ideas.

Regardless, I hope you enjoyed, and thanks for reading! Special thanks to @lionheartanotheraccount for the request!!

Stay lovely!