#in particular I love that nails is a part of the 'yeah they totally know' club while also being the closest thing we get to someone's

[arolesbianism]

Ok so good news I have finished unlocking all the oni lore, bad news there wasn't as much left as I was hoping. But on the bright side, Jean and Nails got to do more stuff hell fucking yes

[dadsbongos]

for honor. and duty.

3.2k words / warnings - forced breeding, injections, drugging, unhappy end, reader is written as a woman

summary - it's his job to carry on the bloodline, and its your job to love Satoru Gojo; thankless as both gigs are.

kinktober: day nine - breeding, aphrodisiac ~~~

Satoru was disinterested in fathering children. 

While he loved teaching, and teasing Megumi throughout the years was a joy, raising an entire person from scratch? An unnecessary addition to his plate he would rather be without. Besides, he was only scratching at his late 20s, why should he rush into having babies?

His feelings were not hidden, either. Everything about Satoru screamed childfree. Most respected the decision; for the Gojo clan to be written into history with Satoru as the cataclysmic final bang -- the sole pillar maintaining his clan’s status in the big three. It would be an honor and a pleasure, were he humble enough to silently accept both.

But Satoru loves whining.

“Too bad the Six Eyes and Limitless will be totally lost to time when I die…” he pouts every time he says it. Purely to gloat that not only does he have both, but he will be the last one in history, “If only someone could take them off my hands, huh?”

Maybe he should’ve just shut his mouth.

… 

“Why don’t you donate, then?” Shoko snarks one random Wednesday, finally fed up with Satoru’s haughty huffs this particular lunch break, “I’m sure your swimmers wouldn’t be unwelcome if they could make another special grade.”

“Gross, Sho,” you gag, then pointing at the man, “Don’t respond to that.”

Predictably, you’re ignored, “But who would be worthy, Shoko? Huh?” Satoru snickers when you gag even louder, “It��d have to be another sorcerer, you know? Can’t just put a super baby in any ole lady.”

“I’m sure you could find someone for a good price,” Shoko leans onto her palm, “Some high up clan girl. A Zen’in? It’d make her life better by getting out of that place, I bet.”

“Can we not talk about this while I’m eating, please?” you gesture to your lunch, though you hardly have the appetite for it now anyway. 

“You can say you’re jealous,” Satoru teases into your ear, laying his head on your shoulder. There’s no warmth of skin to feel, and if you closed your eyes the weight wouldn’t be reasonable for a human head either -- much lighter. Airier. As if he isn’t there at all.

“I’m not jealous of not being your incubator, Gojo.”

“Harsh!” he dramatically clutches over his heart, sucking in a breath like he’d been stabbed, “What happened to first name privileges?”

“Revoked,” you flick his head knowing it’ll never land. Knowing he’ll never feel you.

Shoko simpers, long nails tapping against the creaky break room table. When you shoot over a quizzical glance, those nails stretch over her lips; covering so you alone can make out what she mouths: ‘jealous’. 

You mimic the motion to mouth back: ‘fuck you’.

“Hey,” Satoru wraps both arms around you (no warmth, no weight), “Secrets among friends is asking for trouble.”

“Donating out soldier serum is asking for trouble,” Shoto snickers.

“You suggested it!” 

You roll your eyes at the pair, hoping this was the last you would hear of Satoru’s semen stumper, “Well, I’d love to stick around, but you two are disgusting.”

“Boo,” Shoko wads up the shrink of her microwave meal and tosses it at your head.

“Boo!” Satoru echoes the sentiments louder, fingers clinging to your uniform until his long arms can stretch no further.

“Yeah, whatever!” you holler back, “As if the higher ups will even let you just donate!”

Those traditional old heads will want a “proper” heir, and there is no way Satoru would get suckered into that.

It’s part of why loving him is so difficult.

Because loving Satoru means having to share him: always. He is overwhelmingly busy between his work as a sorcerer and his passion as a mentor. Your love for him will forever be yours to own, but Satoru himself could never be.

Perhaps that’s what Suguru realized when he tried years ago, when Satoru was always gone and the space between them only grew. Perhaps that’s why he decided to close Satoru out completely.

“You actually gonna donate sperm?” Shoko returns her tired gaze to her friend, quirking a brow when he laughs and shakes out his phone.

“Nah, the geezers just keep pestering me,” he mimics a flapping mouth with his hand, “Blah, blah spreading the genes- blah, blah good of the clan. As if they care about the good of the clan.”

“They might,” she snorts, clapping a hand over her mouth to hide a grin.

Both of them know full well otherwise.

“I’m just gonna tell them,” he re-pockets his phone, purposefully ignoring the buzzing call of Gakuganji, “Face to face this time, so they can’t ignore it.”

“Ooh, yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“What’re you gonna say, big man?”

Satoru smiles bright, all cocky and sure and cool, “‘There is no way that you bags of bones will ever convince me to have kids.’”

. . .

A cold, soaked cotton pad is swiped over the triangle of your inner elbow, disinfecting the area before introducing a syringe.

You once asked Satoru why he bothered remaining a sorcerer under Jujutsu Tech when he obviously hates the higher-ups. His response, of course, was lackluster and chock full of holes (“Nobody else can do what I do,” he rolls his hand laxly, “Also, it's the only thing that doesn’t make me so bored I contemplate blowing my brains out.”).

You remember rolling your eyes with a single word reply, deeply unimpressed with his typical lack of tact (“Inspiring.”). Similarly, you remember thinking that you wanted to stay by his side, despite his annoying insensitivity.

When you got the panicked call from Shoko, you considered it a test. The universe cruelly examining your dedication. Ever the fool, you sped for the address she spat over the phone to prove yourself.

Now, you can’t even have the shame of reconsideration.

The bedroom has a camera in the far right corner, on the wall opposite a large observation mirror. Men in white coats pace back and forth, scribbling notes and judging every exact twinge in Satoru’s muscles. Satoru is positioned on a king bed with white sheets, hands latched behind his back in solid shackles with a radiant lock.

“He’s not hurt, right?”

“No,” the lead man steadies a needle to the sterilized juncture, “We never want to hurt Gojo,” his eyes flick up to the pinch in your face as the needle punctures your skin, “Or you.”

“He looks miserable…”

Three doctors turn to you, glaring. The man administering a blue, gluey serum into your veins sighs loudly, “Yes, well… you will be, too…”

The doctor folding your discarded clothes on the left scoffs, shaking his head.

Sometimes you spend so much time with Satoru that you forget how mean men can be.

“It should begin taking effect in just minutes,” the man steps back, letting one of his many assistants undo your tethers, “Mostly an additive,” he clarifies, “You don’t really need it, your stamina doesn’t matter much to us here. You can head in for him now.”

Your stamina may not matter to them, but you’d personally like to be awake as long as possible for this.

“Did you tell him it was me?”

Your question is ignored. So you step through the men and creep into the other room. Casting a curious glance over your shoulder to confirm the study window only reflects yourself. And Satoru.

Satoru.

Satoru.

The name is saccharine sweet in your mind. His head twists in your direction, blindfold gone and eyes comically wide. His eyes are dimmer than usual, though that isn’t very surprising when you were explicitly told the drug dampened cursed energy.

Your eyes rake over his body -- red and writhing and naked. Satoru’s gaze falls from your face to your chest to between your thighs, eyes widening further. You know he’s had partners before (lots of them, in fact), so the shock is unwarranted. Unless, of course, it’s because it’s you and not the random woman from a high up clan he assumed it’d be.

A stern voice breaks out from the far right corner of the room.

“He is willing.”

You gnaw your bottom lip anxiously, squinting through harsh overhead lights to the two-way mirror over your shoulder. Then, your eyes return to Satoru, knelt on the mattress and bare -sans the stocks cuffed around his wrist.

“Satoru…?” your face boils, gut fairing no better. Veins direct gutters for the goopy blue in your system, and it's pumping fast.

He copies your quiet, uttering your name through the still observation room, “You?”

“Is it…” you crawl onto the bed, convinced that his skin on yours could cure the overwhelming swelter in the room, “Am I okay?”

He nods limply, hair falling into crystalline eyes, “It’s you.”

Bright fluorescents dim to a more bearable, faint glow. Swallowing the last of your reservations with the swell in your throat, you turn your back to Satoru -- both knees firm on the plush mattress. 

Though his chest beats in sporadic, panicked breaths, Satoru’s lean hips are still -- perfect for reaching between your thighs and grasping his stood cock. He clenches his angel eyes shut to your flesh, but the waves and dips of your cursed energy stubbornly persist in his vision. He sees the wavering as your lust grows, he knows his is the same. Worse, even. So swallowed up in his belly by enforced desire that a stable flow is impossible to maintain.

Satoru is easy in your grasp, slipping inside you with whimpered pleas and huffs. You curve him into you, backing onto Satoru until your soft flesh is flush with his. Heat tickles up your spine, chilling at your neck and causing a rabid shiver all down your shoulders. 

Leaning forward onto your elbows, you slip over Satoru’s cock -- sliding along him with manufactured fervor (if you focus hard enough, you can still feel the needle incision stretch in your arm). 

The stocks rattle as Satoru jerks forward with a thick groan, hips now eager to pap, pap pap! onto yours. Bonds creak, splinters wailing in protest of his strength as he claws out to reach you. Satoru throws his head back, every sensitive nerve set ablaze just by the warmth and squeeze of your cunt.

His shortburst thrusts don’t dig far enough even though you’re kissing hips every time -- he feels overstimulated and yet unfulfilled. He needs to have both hands bound on your hips -squeezing the flesh on your bones and flipping and bending and making you keen under his lithe fingers.

He cannot discern if the need is driven by drooly chemical injection or longstanding affection, and he isn’t bothering himself with the question now. 

“Wanna touch,” he mumbles pathetically, red in the face and sweat beading down his forehead, white bangs slick to the skin, “Need it…” he gasps as you arch, stretching one of your legs to curl around his thigh, “Need to touch!"

As if spontaneously occurring to the crew that Satoru is pleading with them, the leading man jingles over with his key. He looks at the sedation team for extra assurance before unlocking Satoru’s stocks. 

Once the bonds clatter to the floor, Satoru is raking his nails across your body -- thighs, stomach, back, anywhere he can reach he’s eagerly clawing. Pulling and pushing before he collapses over you, his chest scorching your back. He stretches his neck to press his cheek to yours, lips loose and babbling,

“So good, so good, love how you feel -- wanna fuck you,” his brain must be falling through his lips because he seems to forget he’s already fucking you, “Wanna fuck you, wanna fuck you, wanna fuck you,” he lays sloppy kisses over your shoulder, teething at the sensitive bone, “Gonna let me cum in you, pretty girl? Yeah? Gonna make me a daddy, yeah?”

Hanging one arm below, he swirls the soft pads of his fingers over your clit -- soaked with the syrup his cock fucks free. His large hand expands over the pouch of your tummy to snugly press his thumb into your doughy skin; thumping where he’s battering your insides.

“Feel me there, mama? S’wet ‘n’ desperate, you want me bad,” he giggles deliriously, humping at your sex in plasticine frenzy before twitching to completion.

Satoru thinks he could go all day.

Thick arms tied around your waist, keeping your chest bare to his with both knees crimped over Satoru’s shoulders. His overconfidence proves itself as he thrusts up into you, lips pressing wetly onto yours while drooling out affectionate slurs,

“Best girl, pretty and hot and so fuckin’ wet for me, aren’t you? You love me, sweet girl? I think you do- know you do.”

Satoru stills only when more cum is pumped into your womb, pitiful mewls bobbing the apple of his throat.

You’re nodding with a heavy crown, forehead thumping into his sweaty collarbones and biting cresents in his biceps with your nails, “Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh - love you, ‘Toru! Love you so much…!”

Nuzzling along your flaming cheek, Satoru wriggles you loose just to flip you around to kneel in the sheets.

“I’m tired,” he muses, fingers dancing in the baby hairs at the base of your neck, “How about you do something, princess?”

You groan and pout, but don’t disobey.

Your knees are tingling and arms shaking as you twist to nestle against Satoru. Stretching back, you splay your palms over his broad chest to balance over his standing cock; then reach between your spread legs to grasp his erection. Skin soft and warm in your palm, he whimpers at the contact and throws his head back into the plush white pillow. Snowy hair tousled against the case, hips twitching up in you.

His cock bumps against your clit in his desperation and the sensation makes you clamp your knees around his waist tighter. You’re all heavy breaths and whines by the time you finally sink base-down. His cock feels hot and thick inside you, you’re not sure if it's all the eyes or whatever they stuck in your arm or the fact you’re with Satoru but your entire body is simmering.

Satoru’s hands unwind from the sheets to cling around your hips, forcefully rocking you down on him: as if to grind both your bones into paste. Cool air catches in the back of his swollen throat, your cunt wet and swallowing him back in as he tries slipping out. He lifts his head -jaw limping open and drool pooling around his raw-bitten lips- just to watch as he lifts and drops you over his cock.

Clumsily, he jerks his knees up and feet flat on the bed as the lava scorching through his veins inspires him to fuck you faster. Sweat beading and swamping all along his hairline and joints, leaving his skin sticky and sucking against yours with every thrust. Satoru’s fingers squeeze harshly around the fat of your hips, marking the skin with plum stains in the shape of his hand. If a baby isn’t enough, then these bruises surely will be bountiful evidence of your tryst.

Suddenly, Satoru sits up fully, lips pressing into your shoulder before he stabs into bone and flesh with his teeth. His arms swiftly move to curl around your waist, flushing your back to his chest as he pumps into you. One of his hands finds your breast, squishing the swells by the handful, and the other hand swooping to toy with your clit. He works slow circles into quicker swishes, thrusts speeding as the heat climbs and climbs from where he’s inside you up to your necks. Suffocating. Enveloping. 

Ragged breaths pull with terrible effort from both you and Satoru. Wet slaps of skin and syrupy squelching echoing in the otherwise still room. Oddly, the sound is far from grotesque, instead spurring another sweetened gush around Satoru. The dirty, primal nature far overshadows the lurking men in white coats around the edges of the room.

You can almost pretend you’re wrapped around Satoru for real pleasure rather than duty.

Again, Satoru sloppily mouths at your skin, from the bend in your shoulder along your neck and unto the softness of your jaw. Arms clenching around your waist until you’re practically immobile in his embrace, bouncing along his cock only because he puppeteers you to do so. 

Satoru moans hotly against the slope of your neck, licking the sweat off your skin just because he can. You lean into the coolness of Satoru’s tongue as your gut swirls and tightens before you’re seizing in the man’s grasp. His gaping mouth is pressed against your collarbone, slobber inking across your tit and down your arm. He hugs you tighter and soaks in full the clench of your orgasm, continuing to lathe his fingers over your clit until you’re jerking and huffing in overstimulation.

You think you hear him muttering (you hope you hear him muttering), “Thank you, thank you, thank you...”

The unbearable heat is replaced by normal, merely uncomfortable heat. Satoru cuddles you against him still as he plugs you with his cum.

Soft murmurs float back into your ears, men stretching necks to gaze at the both of you and whisper amongst themselves. Satoru lazily drags the sheets high over your chest and settles back against the steely headboard. 

He yelps, back arching and eyes wide, sitting upright from the board.

“What…?” you groan, exhaustion overtaking you -- limbs numb and strewn out uselessly.

“It’s cold,” he grumbles into your ear, yawning and laying against the metal headboard again (this time prepared for the stinging temperature change), “Be nice to me.”

Weakly, you make a sound of protest from the back of your throat. Brain too fried to form words.

Satoru caresses his fingers gently over your stomach, gaze fluttering to the labcoats stiffly remaining in the room. They put much effort into avoiding his stare, heads kept low and ducking behind their collars. Rolling onto his side, Satoru keeps you caged in his arms while shielding you from the mens’ stares. 

He soothes his nails along the bulb of your cheek, six eyes searing through every layer of skin and muscle down to the beating of your heart. He knows, of course, that it beats for him.

Which makes him feel sick, beneath exasperated euphoria, because he knows why you’re here.

He knows the only way to give it back is with a baby neither of you really want.

[k8-marsh]

songs that sound like chloe price sung them

okay so (naturally) i have playlists for most life is strange characters and i found a bunch of songs that sound like chloe sung them! :) it sounds more like her voice in 'before the storm' (rhianna devries) if anyone is interested. so yeah! i just thought it was cool! a lot of the songs also really suit chloe in their lyrics/genre too ^^

also i added photos to help you. visualise. hope you enjoy.

Sorority Girls - Mommy Long Legs

this one is so very chloe, especially with her hate for the vortex club (more specifically, victoria and nathan)

Hey, hey, hey, boys, let's go to the frat party The theme's white people, get your roofies ready Shoot their parent's money away And act like assholes every day!!!

I Threw Glass at My Friend's Eyes and Now I'm on Probation - Destroy Boys

honestly, for all of these songs the entire song sounds like her! this whole album in particular 'Sorry, Mom' is very chloe.

anyway i think this song could kinda be about chloe and frank ;

'Cause you're scary as shit, dude! Like I don't know really know what I can tell you You kinda freak me out, but we can be friends

Never invite me over ever again Just kidding, please do! I really wanna hangout with you

obviously NOT in a relationship way but frank was definitely a bad influence on chloe and someone she kinda looked up to. so i think it kinda fits!

Duck Eat Duck World - Destroy Boys (again)

okay... i'm about to put the whole album at this point, the singer's old voice really sounds like chloe!!!

this song seems like other people's criticisms of chloe;

Ever since you cut your hair You're so different, you don't seem to care Staying out late, X's on hands Since when do you like punk rock bands?

then this verse kinda seems like chloe talking about max leaving her -

I liked the girl with the long locks What's her name? I forgot Ten years and we haven't talked Well, there's a new girl on the block

and the 'new girl' is rachel!

Green eyes leaning in on me Green eyes, am I what you wanna see?

guess who has green eyes... that's right guys. rachel amber. are you seeing these links or what.

this analysis isn't, like, that i think that the artists wrote these songs about chloe, i just love thinking about songs in terms of chloe. as you can tell.

A few other songs from the same album that match chloe with their lyrics:

No Respect - chloe criticizing david!

You don't own everything I've been here for years Stop meddling in my affairs and I'll stop middling yours Get out of my face Such a typical dude Thinking that every tiny little thing is just about you

Goldilocks Spot

This one is kinda sad/subdued. I think this suits Before the Storm Chloe too, i mean she went through a LOT of shit.

My handwriting kind of looks like my dad's Tell me your story, it won't make me sad

...

I don't wanna talk about it anymore I don't wanna talk about it anymore I don't wanna talk about it anymore I don't wanna talk about it anymore So I won't

Junk

The title just gives me junkyard vibes, which is totally relevant to chloe :)

My car exhaust clinging to the base Shiny and lost with onion ring remains Precious flowers lost within the hour I guess you can say they were written to decay

Long and gone Long and gone, long and gone, long and gone Lost my junk again Lost my junk again

B.F.F (Actually from a later album!)

This reminds me of Chloe's breakdown in the junkyard. you know when she just started smashing everything. you can draw a correlation (fancy) between the title and max...

Nails through my baseball bat I'm telling you to step back girl, step back You're dead, you're dust, you're sewage now (< william!!!) You dug your grave and then you asked me how

edit: you thought i was done? absolutely not. i completely forgot about ashly burch's songs!!!!!!!!! MUAHAHAa.... okay. these are usually covers/parts of a show or play so they don't have as deep meaning. but obviously i'll find a way to relate it to chloe.

(Cover) Black Sheep by Metric

I love the second video so much, it's animated by this totally awesome dude on reddit (https://www.reddit.com/r/lifeisstrange/comments/3nzxhc/animation_of_chloe_price_ashly_burch_singing/) but the video is private so I attached a different youtube link in case anyone wants to watch it.

Who's The Princess Now? (from Muzzled: The Musical)

The scream of 'who's the princess now, BITCHES??" is... very chloe to me. a little context, this song is from a very peculiar youtube musical episode series thing that ashly burch stars in, i watched it a few years ago and it's definitely something. it's actually got a bunch of popular youtube-musical people (like Joey Richter from Starkid) if anyone's interested. you can watch it here!

Song Battle (...also from Muzzled: The Musical)

okay. so for some reason i really love imagining chloe having a rap battle against victoria for this. someone please make it into an animatic. maybe i will.

How Do I Look? (you'll never guess where this one is from...)

i can also imagine chloe having a sick makeover and like chloe and rachel helping her. or something like that... anyways. rad.

Anyways. That's it for now, i hope anyone who remotely wanted this enjoyed it!!! i hope it helped if you wanted to create a playlist or animatic or anything or just have a little chuckle.... um. please let me know if you have any more ideas because my chloe playlist can never be long enough.

[esamastation]

Part fifty-one of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: forty, forty-one, forty-two, forty-three, forty-four, forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty

-

"Angeal Hewley speaking."

"Well, you sound chipper tonight. Is Wutai not treating you right?"

"Oh. Hello, Genesis. How are things in Midgar?"

"Things are… they are such as they are. The work of a hero never ends. And so forth."

"That good, huh?"

"Mmm. Now do tell me why you sound like someone gone trampling all over your honour."

"Heh, nothing so bad, I promise. Just, you know. Sephiroth."

"More of his glowing Alignment practice?"

"..."

"Oh, so it's something new now? Do tell! All of us in Midgar are dying to know how things are developing. How is the Healer of Worlds doing?"

"... I guess the Turks have already reported it. Well. For one, he's learned how to fly."

"... Come again?"

"Sephiroth learned to fly. Or, I guess, it's more like weightlessness? He can make himself feather-light and just jump on tree tops and glide around."

"... Angeal, my dear friend, this isn't time for jokes."

"Oh, I'm not joking, Genesis, I'm really not. He can fly now. It's really something. He didn't so much explain as he insinuated, but I think it's some kind of gravity or mass manipulation that he can now do. Because of his Alignment practice. Apparently it's bearing fruit."

"... Wonderful. Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess. We seek it thus, and take to the sky. Some of us literally."

"Suppose that's one interpretation of it."

"Tch. And I suppose by now the Good Professor has been informed, and we will be hearing of these developments from him directly."

"Probably, yeah."

"Tch. Well, I suppose it would be nice to know how to fly. How many of us will end up with our wings clipped before such heights are achieved, forever…"

"Genesis…"

"They still don't admit that there have been deaths. Janson was supposedly killed in action, but he wasn't even on a mission at the time. The others have been cadets, but it's only a matter of time."

"I'm sorry. I wish I was there."

"No you don't. Be glad you aren't - though, as G type SOLDIERs, you and I aren't compatible with these new methods anyway. Such fortune we have, such graces we have been granted."

"We all signed up for this. We all volunteered, in order to enter the program."

"Yes, and not a single one of us knew what that meant. Well, except perhaps for Sephiroth. Not that he ever truly signed up. You know, I have been looking into his history, I've dug out his medical records, trying to figure out what they are after -"

"Genesis, that's a breach of trust -"

"The lives of my men matter to me more than Sephiroth's secrets and pride. Not that the files were any help - the story they paint is more a horror story than anything. Whatever Hojo is trying to recreate, if it takes as many experiments as Sephiroth has gone through…"

"I thought they already nailed down the cause. The overdose, right?"

"That's the prevalent theory, yes. But after the first few cases of Mako Poisoning and death, they rather gave up on recreating that particular experiment at least."

"They gave up? But, aren't they still calling SOLDIERs in for extra doses?"

"They are, but there's not as much Mako in it. They're injecting something else, now - more of the carrier agent, supposedly - though Goddess alone knows how many had to be resuscitated for them to get the point."

"... What's the current total of casualties?"

"Four deaths including Janson and seven in coma, two of them SOLDIER. Oh, and one confirmed brain death, which is just lovely."

"A SOLDIER?"

"No… a cadet. What they're keeping him alive for I don't know, but… there we have it."

"... Shit."

"Angeal Hewley, is that cursing I hear?! What a day to be alive."

"Very funny. How do you know about what's going on in the labs? I thought they'd pretty much banned you from them?"

"They did, but I have my ways."

"... Right. Do your ways explain why Lazard isn't doing anything about this?"

"Not much he can do. Hojo will do what he wants, and he'd promised Heidegger a new, higher class of SOLDIER after this, so you can imagine his reaction. And of course the President is all for it!"

"Ah, I… see."

"Indeed. You know what they're saying in the labs now? They're saying that SOLDIERs were created to be the second coming of the Ancients. That we were supposed to be able to, among other things, cast spells without the need of Materia."

"I… heard something like that too, a long time ago, but I didn't put much stock in it. It sounded a bit too fantastical for me."

"Well, supposedly, that's exactly what they wanted. They gave up on it, because, well, it didn't work, and because the side effects were even more useful. Superhuman soldiers! Much better than Ancient myths, when you have a war to be fought. Only now the war is almost over, and Sephiroth has apparently figured out how to fly."

"Ah."

"I can only imagine the consequences this will have."

"Yes, um. There's something else."

"Something else? Angeal, please don't tell me you're been holding out for me."

"Well, not really, but, um. Did you know Sephiroth can speak and read the Wutai language?"

"... I didn't, but I'm not surprised. Among SOLDIERs he's spent the most time over there."

"Well, I didn't know. The Turks didn't know. I don't think it's in his file either."

"Another thing he's been keeping to himself and can no longer remember why?"

"Maybe, but, Genesis, there's… another thing. There was a group of Wutai warriors that we intercepted, and Sephiroth had a one-in-one duel with their captain - and then he spoke with him. In their language. Now, I can't understand written Wutai at all, but I can sort of follow the conversations…"

"I am duly impressed, my friend. Though more with the idea of Sephiroth having a conversation with a Wutai soldier - after having a duel with them. What, did he raise their spirit somehow?"

"Very funny, but no, he didn't kill the man. That's not the point - Genesis, the Wutai Captain called Sephiroth's accent ancient."

"... Angeal, you're kidding me."

"Not like Ancient ancient. I'm pretty sure the moniker they use for Ancients is different. Ancestor, maybe? Something like that. Anyway, Deng Yuto called Sephiroth's accent ancient, meaning really old."

"... Huh. So to recap, Sephiroth gets a massive dose of Mako, flatlines, comes back, forgets almost everything about himself, develops some new habits, has a bunch of strange questions about the way Materia, Mako, EXP and MP work… and now he's developing new magical abilities, and speaking a language like someone from a long time ago."

"That's about the size of it."

"Damn."

"... Yeah."

"... Hey, Angeal?"

"Yes, Genesis?"

"I think I have a theory of what's going on."

"I thought you might."

-

Lmao I have no idea where this is going 👀🍿

[2hoothoots]

Revisiting P2 since the docu epilogue dropped and your AMV (<3) popped up as a sign for me to ask something that hopefully you haven't already spoken about years ago: What did you think of the in-game psych explanation for Maligula, that she's the primitive savage part of the mind? P2 is a weird mix of sketchy Freud/Jung concepts that Tim likes meshed with modern psych, and Maligula's deal seems like something they probably wrote a lot of different versions of but never quite solved elegantly

yeah, i think you totally hit the nail on the head - it's always felt like one of the parts of the story that they couldn't quite give enough polish to before they had to finalize it and move on with development. like - i went to go get my artbook to see if it had any insight into the writing process, and did you know that Nona and Maligula being the same person was apparently added way later in development? that's wild! i didn't know that until literally right now! i may or may not have skipped straight to my favourite characters when my artbook arrived and then put it on my shelf without reading the whole thing

ANYWAY, retrospectively i think it being a twist that was added later actually makes a lot of sense in the context of everything you mentioned. the Maligula problem, to me, is the fact that they're trying to juggle a bunch of different things that she has to be in the story. there's Maligula, the ruthless big bad, and Nona, the beloved grandma, and if you suddenly have to also make them both the same person... well, it ends up being kind of a thorny writing problem to make that work, haha.

here's some art i made so this isn't just a wall of text, rest of the answer under the cut

i think one thing they could have done when they needed to rehabilitate a mass-murderer into a lovable old lady was pull back on either end of the spectrum. make your villain softer and more sympathetic, or give grandma a mean streak like she's one bad day away from a tragedy at the crochet club. and to give the story credit, i'm really glad they didn't. Nona is relentlessly sweet and endearing - and that's great! she needs to be in order to make the audience care about her, otherwise the emotional beats are never going to land. likewise, Maligula is a great villain, she's vicious and ruthless and at the culmination of her arc we see she simply does not give a shit about murdering hundreds of people. i love that for her, honestly, you go girl

but then, like - how do you connect the dots? how do you frame grandma having a violently murderous streak in a way that doesn't make the ending of "but she's over it now" feel kinda weird and hollow? and how do you do that while also being sympathetic to the game's themes around mental health? Maligula's informed by the traumatic things that happened to Lucrecia during the war, but she can't just be a manifestation of trauma, because the moral of the story being that trauma makes you a mass-murderer (until you beat up your trauma and shove it in a giant pit) would feel... really tonally dissonant!

so i think you're totally right that the sprinkling of pop-psych concepts we get ends up feeling a little bit like an awkward band-aid. Maligula's story is about how the horrors of war can shape you into a terrible person, who does terrible things - ...but there's also, like, special circumstances, so it doesn't feel weird that she goes back to being Raz's sweet grandma afterwards. special psychic circumstances! she's not just any war criminal, she's the fight or flight response gone out of control!

which - i dunno, i think that line in particular always stood out to me, because that's not really what the fight or flight (or freeze or fawn) response is, right? it's a temporary boost of adrenaline to the system to rev you up for getting out of a dangerous situation. an overactive fight or flight response is called chronic stress and anxiety. i know the games are pop-psych and not actual science, but it always stood out to me as a little awkward.

if it were me in the writer's seat - with the benefit of all the time in the world to workshop it, and no looming deadlines, and the hindsight of having a full completed game in front of me to think about - i might have tried to frame it around connection. i think you could swing the lens to instead focus on how violence, stress, trauma etc., make it harder to understand and empathise with the people around you. the tragedy of Lucrecia's story is that she came home to try and help her countrymen, the people she cared so dearly about. but the more time passed, the less she cared, the less she was able to see them as people. after Marona's death, the Maligula that remains is one who's unable to even care about killing her own sister. the alternative is too raw, too painful - instead, she sheds her last vestiges of remorse, and throws herself into the easy relief of violence. (we see this again, when Nona "awakens" as Maligula - when confronted with the baggage of her past, she chooses to wash it all away with force, unable and unwilling to care about the people she used to call friends.)

and i think shifting the focus like that ties it in thematically, too. a big theme (of both games, but especially the sequel) is how important connection is, how being able to understand and reach out to and rely on other people is a lifeline during hard times. PN2 touches on how there aren't really "good people" and "bad people" - everyone has the capacity to do wonderful or terrible things, and i think Raz's line to Maligula about how "everybody's got something like you" works. Lucrecia was never a monster, no matter how everyone tried to pretend she was. she was just a person, the same as everyone else - and just like everyone else, she could be pushed to extremes under the right circumstances. it just feels kind of odd when the implicit context is "everybody's got a mass-murderer hidden in the primal recesses of their brain", hahaha.

but like, again, that's the privilege of hindsight, right? i've definitely also been on the other side of the creative process, stuck with something i suddenly need to make work in a story and having to come up with a solution that feels like a band-aid. sometimes you just gotta call it good enough, and move on. and i think the game is overall much stronger for having Nona and Maligula be the same person - it plays into the wider themes, it sets up some great emotional beats, and i think it's overall well-executed, even if there are one or two hiccups in the writing.

anyway, great ask! thank you for the invitation to ramble, this is something that stuck out to me on my first playthrough of the game and it was fun to sit down and get my thoughts in order

[umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken]

In conclusion, FUCK rhysand

Currently up to ACOMAF, and I just finished the part with Rhysand's exposition justifying his actions UTM, this scene in particular pissed me off beyond measure. I already hated Rhysand in the first book, but this one was the nail on the coffin.

'So I watched your first trial. Pretending- always pretending to be the person that you hated. When you were hurt so badly against the Wyrm... I found my way in with you. A way to defy Amarantha, to spread the seeds of hope to those who knew how to read the message, and a way to keep you alive without seeming too suspicious.' (ACOMAF p525)

Rhysand can change memories. If he'd truly wanted to help Feyre, he literally could have visited her in secret and wiped the memories of anyone who found out about their alliance.

'I found those three picts. I broke into their minds, reshaping their lives, their histories, and dragged them before Amarantha.' (ACOMAF p 523).

Honestly, he could have just been like 'I know that you hate me and I hate Tamlin, but it would be really great if you could break this curse for the good of all of Prythian, so I'm gonna help you. You just gotta pretend to hate me until the curse is broken, m'kay?'

Whilst writing this bit, I also realised that he never apologised for GRABBING HOLD OF AND TWISTING THE BONE OF HER BROKEN ARM?!?

'Let me see it.' A growl rippled from him. Without waiting for my reaction, he grabbed my elbow and forced my arm into the dim light of the cell. I bit my lip to keep from crying out - bit it hard enough to draw blood as rivers of fire exploded inside me, as my head swam, and all my senses narrowed down to the piece of bone sticking through my arm. (ACOTAR p. 331)

Rhysand: Don't you dare touch my mate or even look at her wrong, but yeah I totally twisted her broken arm into an agreement with me that utterly humiliated her for WEEKS :)

(canon, Rhysand was also too stupid to figure out Amarantha's riddle, that's why he had to pull all of this shit.)

Moving on,

'I made you dress like that so Amarantha wouldn't suspect, and made you drink the wine so you would not remember the nightly horrors in that mountain.' (ACOMAF p.525)

I spent my days sleeping off the faerie wine, dozing to escape the humiliation I endured.' (ACOTAR 354)

HORRORS AND HUMILIATION THAT YOU SUBJECTED HER TO YOU FUCKING SJERGT$GT%H

Yep, absolutely, the obvious answer is to dress her provocatively, drug her, make her perform lap dances, and basically put all of your attention on her, that's definitely keeping her out of harms way and out of anyone's attention. TF??!!!

Rhysand has been Amarantha's toy for 50 years now, don't you think she would find it more suspicious that after all that time, he's decided to spend time in any capacity with the one person that is meant to break the curse and defeat her? I just *give up*

There's plenty more that could be said, but these are the things that stuck out to me the most. In general, this entire bit of the book sounded too practised, you know? Like during the time they spent apart because Feyre was justifiably pissed about him keeping the mate secret, he was busy cooking up this convoluted, air-tight story that explained away all of his bullshit. He had an answer for EVERYTHING, and explained it all away as 'but it was for your own good'.

He also never apologised for ANY of the shit he pulled on Feyre, not even a 'By the way, sorry for twisting your arm or making you dress in half a tissue or drugging you or making you do lap dances on me or treating you like my property that no-one else could touch.'

I also find it hard to believe that Feyre, don't-lie-to-me-or-treat-me-like-a-pawn-feyre forgave him so easily for that. She was literally just like 'OH well, you love me, actions excused have some soup :)'

Anyway, that's about as much as I've got energy for right now. Would love to hear anyone's thoughts!

[moonsidesong]

just caught up with Your Turn To Die and absolutely adored it the whole way through. it goes unbelievably hard. calling it Danganronpa But Good feels like an insult. but like... yeah what if danganronpa was good? or rather. game that makes me wish danganronpa was good.

it really keeps you on your toes the Entire time, which is why i ended up saving like......... every five to ten minutes, most times. i would say the only slower part is the minigames during chapter 2? but, i thought those were fun, and they were still broken up by plot important stuff, so i really didnt mind.

ive heard the game had a soundtrack release on CD a few years ago, but i cant seem to find much information about it? much less any resell listings. how sad... i love cd...

i wanna talk more in depth from here on out so spoilers under the cut! warning thoughts very disjointed. and i havent seen absolutely Everything the game has to offer yet (havent done any of the side stories, we'll do them soon probably) so if my takes are disproven by anything ive yet to see please do not tell me htank you

first off OHHH MY GODDDD THIS GAME IS SO MUCH LESS CREEPY ABOUT THE MINORS AND ITS SUCH A BREATH OF FRESH AIR COMPARED TO DANGANRONPA. its not perfect, of course, i do not entirely love the jokes(???) about keiji (known grown adult man) going on dates with sara (known teenage girl), but like, this game does not make me feel gross all the time? thank u nankidai for not making your teacher character with a close relationship with one of his former students a groomer! the bare minimum! im gonna hit kodaka with a stick this should not be a point in the game's favor.

anyway! ended chapter 2 with Reko and Sou (shin) alive, ended chapter 3 having lost Reko .. . :( shes my favorite... i was so sad... ranmaru we're not friends anymore/.... you suck... you killed my best girl... we um, did make a grand total of 175 save files though, so at some point me and the friend i played with are gonna go back and scrub through anything and everything that we missed. maybe after we do the side stories though, not sure yet. reko yabusame i swear to god i will crawl into the screen and kill ranmaru myself for you. i will save you. i love you so much mwah

for years ive only known midori as The Guy That Kids On Danganronpa Discourse Instagram Put Overdramatic Yet Also Somehow Extremely Haphazard Trigger Warnings on every post that included him, so i was really excited to meet him. and boy he did not disappoint this guys NUTS!!! HES CRAZAY!!!!!!!! he has such a perfectly striking look about him. i love how he almost never stops looking straight at you, and how his suit is stark black so it obscures a lot of his shape when he's in the dark, its so cool. they absolutely nailed the atmosphere whenever you're around this guy.

but the first jumpscare when he like reaches out at you from the coffin just kinda made me laugh. me when i get you

also, if you're this far in to care about my opinions on games you probably know that i am Known Danganronpa V3 Hater. i think in particular Kokichi Ouma is way too good of a character for how dogwater the game's actual plot is, and Shin Tsukimi, while not being the same, obviously, scratches that itch of a guy trapped in a death game that spends all his time lying and living under a persona because he's afraid of dying perfectly While Being In A Game That Doesnt Make Me Feel Like Eating Sheet Metal . i love this dude and his ugly several clashing colors outfit. he wants my ass like mega dead right now but thats not important surely

also, i think its sweet that joe and sara are just best friends and they rarely ever even entertain the idea that they had romantic feelings for each other. i think its extra sweet and tragic that joe was able to tell sara he loved her in the end, meaning it as his best friend. and the way the game completely ceases showing you flashbacks of him after that point and just lets the image of the hallucinations replace his actual memory overtime is so good and haunting. this doubled down by the way her memory of him is completely locked up as soon as she starts trying to actually remember the way he really was, its so good.

i think thats all i have to say for now, but umm!!! really really good im excited to go back and fill in the gaps i missed. especially regarding kanna becasue i have a lot of theories about her that i hope im on the right track about #lol. but even if i dont i want to see her i miss her. yaay!!! i love when video games are good. i love you video games.

ill probably make more posts down the line with more thoughts after i let them marinade in my brain for a while... mostly when i have thoughts ive been sending them to the friend im playing with so we can discuss theories together LOL

[justahopelessaromantic]

Upgraded Voices In My Head (Ch. 5: Michael makes an entrance)

Fandom: Be More Chill: The Musical Ships: Boyf riends and Squipemy Links to Chapters 1, 2, 3, and 4 Summary: Jeremy, for the most part, was okay with the effects of accidentally drinking Mountain Dew. Having an upgraded Squip that's no longer a complete douche-bag (okay, he was still a little shitty, but nothing too unbearable)? Cool. Squip playing matchmaker for him and his multiple crushes? Awesome. Falling in love with said Squip? Not exactly ideal.

Dropping down to the final step, Jeremy swiveled around to awkwardly lean against the soda-stained arm of a battered sofa (the Squip would have to convince him to dispose of that later), all while never taking his eyes off the rather uncomfortable advanced AI. He stared the boy down for a few moments in a (successful, if his host’s increased fidgeting was any indication) attempt at intimidation before shuddering, a wave of cold electricity running up his spine, and snapped back in hopes of distracting from his darkening cheeks, air sudden too hot and room too cramped (especially with the gremlin huddled in one of the couch’s corner and gripping the controller so hard his nails were digging into its plastic sides, music blaring from his oversized headphones so loud it was audible even from where they stood as glossed over eyes fixated themselves on crude low poly pixel art). 

“What?” He sneered, practically baring his fangs and catching the human off guard before he mentally scrambled for a reply that didn’t reveal how shamelessly he’d been checking the computer out.

“I, uh, I was just wondering why, um, why you’re human form still looks kinda like Keanu Re-oof!” Before Jeremy could finish, his guest ripped off his headphones, threw them on the woolen carpet, and tackled him in a warm hug, flinging them both into the sofa cushion and wiping the hostile interaction clean from the host’s mind. The Squip, eyeing the home intruder visitor cautiously, silently slipped behind the stairs as Jeremy reciprocated the hug, burying his face in his friend’s soft shoulder for a soft moment before beaming a warm smile at him. “Michael! Holy shit, it’s so good to see you, man. How come you’re home early?”

“Our flight back got cancelled so we took an early one home. The trip was still hella gnarly though. God, you woulda loved it, man! We’re taking you with us next time, I promi...whoooooa, wait...” Eerie silence pierced through enthusiasm to reveal concern as he finally took in Jeremy’s new apprentice in full. The gamer gently cupped his reddening face with one hand, gingerly thumbing over the fresh scar, along with a few stray acne bumps, on his cheek and brushing the soft curls dangling in front of his bandages out of the way. “Dude, what...happened?” Startled by the sudden intimacy, he bashfully turned to the side to avoid his friend’s intense stare and explained what led to the mess that was last night, taking particular care to leave out the face planting like a moron bit and being practically coddled by his dotting Squip before standing back up and bracing himself for Michael’s reaction.

“...Well,...yeah, but...you’re good now, right?” He pried, poking and prodding a now heavily flustered Jeremy’s face in search of any \ injuries he might’ve missed. “‘Cause I don’t think I could ever forgive myself if something serious happened just ‘cause I wasn’t here to, like, nag you about taking care of yourself n’ shit.”

Jeremy's eyes widened before they shifted to the floor, his hands beginning to fidget again (Squip would have to deal with that later). “Aw, c’mon, Micky, y-you know you don’t have to worry about me.” The jet lag from his wonky trip hours ensured that Michael did not have the time, nor the energy, to explain why that sentence took the prize for Biggest Understatement of the Decade. ”I’m totally fine! I mean, my head is givin’ me hell and I’m fucking starving, but, like, besides that Squip says I’ll be fine, so, uh, yeah.” He spat out, earning an overly drawn-out sigh of relief from his player 1 who slumped back into his seat.

“Oh, thank god!” Shoulders dropping, Michael leaned back against his friend and let out a sigh. “Man, you are so fucking lucky you’re not hurt for real, Jer. You pull a stunt like that again and I won’t hesitate, bi-wait did you say squip?” The other nodded casually before Michael shot him a curious look.

“Oh, right! Okay,..” He shot up out of his seat and swiftly grabbed Michael’s sleeve, ripping him up from the couch to reveal a stone-faced, cleanly dressed man that the player 1 could only describe as a stylish and almost threatening version of “chill” personified practically staring into his soul, while Jeremy hooked himself onto the man’s arm, vibrating with an almost childlike excitement. It vaguely reminded him of the joy that the player 2 radiated after finally asking Christine out or finding out about how to silence Squip's excessive internal nagging with a Mountain Dew red binge (the irony between that last example and the situation at hand did not escape Michael) “So! This is my-”

“Squip.” He interjected, extending an arm in search of a handshake while silently bracing himself to touch a most likely greasy and calloused hand. “Shorthand for super quantum unit Intel processor. You must be Michael. Truly a...” Closing his eyes and grimacing, he forced out his best, almost like the words stung. “...pleasure...to meet you, sir. Jeremy has told me many oh, for god sakes, why do you humans insist on throwing things at me today!?” The hologram groaned, bending over to pick up the thrown Xbox controller that had phased through him and place it back on top of its console while Jeremy ran to Michael’s side.

Failing to apprehend his friend due to his less-than-stellar strength (see: noodle arms), he opted for a more reason-based persuasion, muting the voice inside his head nagging on about how the emotion-driven best friend would probably just dismiss anything he said when dealing with something this serious.

“Dude, what the hell is your problem!?”

Micheal gave his friend a baffled look before pointing at the hologram. “That! That thing is the source of like...85% of all my problems.”

“I assume the other 15% stem from your raging idiocy, correct?”

Before Michael could bite back with a “Fuck off, you satanic tic tac!” or something equally unclever, Jeremy glared at his Squip before overprotective wrapping his arms around Michael, whose eyes widened at the sudden contact, and pulling him close, taking a half step back from the program. “Hey, cool it, dude! That’s, like, my favorite person you’re talking about.”

The Squip cringed at the young adult’s poor taste. “That’s your favorite person?” Clearly, he didn’t have much competition for the title.

...not that he wanted it, of course.

“Oh, yeah, uh, sorry about that. I swear, he’s usually not...” Jeremy studied the almost bloodthirsty look in the eyes of his kicking and screaming friend as he clawed frantically at the offending Intel processor. “...like this.” 

“I should hope not. Spending too much time around someone so...” The computer program circled around the calmer yet still scouring teen, combing over every inch of him with his electronic scanners. “...juvenile would hinder my objective.” 

“Suck a dick, asshole!”

The Squip only blinked. “I hope you know you’re only proving my point.”

“I hope you know you’re a defective piece of shit.”

A harsh, palpable silence fell over the room as Michael slumped into his player two’s arms in gradual exhaustion, and said player loosened his grip subtly and unwittingly leaned toward his Squip, his wide eyes frantically picking apart each pixel. Simulated breath hitching, the Squip froze for so long, Jeremy had time to toy with the idea that he might be glitching. The last time Jeremy saw him project glossy, shifting eyes, shaky hands, and a loss for words (God knows that thing never shut up) was during the glimpse he caught moments before passing out from the shock of The Play™. Back then it’d only been there as a last-ditch attempt to draw sympathy out of Jer in vain hopes of reactivation, but there was no reason for it now, considering the lack of real, high-stakes threat (Unless you counted Michael and, quite frankly, he knew the Squip was smart enough not to). The first time was a dull shock to Jeremy’s system.

The second only stirred up a vague sense of concern he was sure the Intel processor saw.

The Squip, of course, couldn’t have that.

[tarisilmarwen]

Ahsoka "Shadow Warrior" Liveblog

*biting nails*

Okay first off, really? That's the title we're going with? Lol Filoni. Okay.

Open on Seatos, okay.

You know it just occurred to me? The long lingering shots we're so fond of, and the deliberately relaxed pacing are very animesque.

Theatrical serious anime, I mean.

In particular I'm thinking of The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, which liked to diverge from the plot to just kind of wander through shots of the environment, for atmosphere purposes I guess.

Wonder if that or something similar was an influence on Filoni's directing style.

The woods also look very ethereal.

Hi Hera!

Frick Jacen is still so precious. I love him. So much.

!!!

Oh! Oh this music cue right here reminds me a lot of a specific part of "Sabine Sees Ezra".

HUYANG IS SAD, NOOOOOOOO.

God, how much death has Huyang already seen? How many Jedi has Huyang had to say goodbye to?

He misses the Order so much. *sobs*

Friiiiiiiiiiiiick the World Between Worlds looks so GOOD in live action.

Rosario finally channeling a bit of Rebels!Ahsoka here.

"Tell me what's going on." Well Ahsoka I think the Force is personally whacking you over the head with the Vision Stick to make you get over yourself.

Oooh Ahsoka flinched when Anakin ignited his saber.

Leia mention! Eeee!

Jacen is totally Force Sensitive, of course. Can hear the lightsabers, either the lingering echos from the fight, OR, he can hear into Ahsoka's vision.

KANAN NAMEDROP.

WEEEEEP.

Anakin being super extra of course.

HO JEEZ.

HE SLICED THE PATHWAY.

Yeah, so with this transition this is definitely a Force Vision, not the actual World Between Worlds. This is almost exactly like the transitions in Ezra's visions in the Jedi Temple on Lothal.

BABY 'SOKA!

BAAAAABBYYYYY 'SOOOOOOOKKAAAAAA.

Is this one long TCW reference?

I feel like it's gotta be.

"We lost so many." Yeeeeeah, that'll happen in a war. It sucks.

Ohhhhhhhh I am going to have to reblog ALL THE META about these scenes, aren't I?

I just know TCW fans have got a million thoughts centerfuging in their brains right now about Anakin, about his relationship with Ahsoka, about the long shadow he cast over her formative development.

FRICK THAT SHOT OF ANAKIN CALMLY WALKING AHEAD INTO THE HAZE.

"THE HERO WITH NO FEAR".

AND THE FLASH SHOT TO VADER.

Outside the vision and the X-wings are sweeping, looking for...? Ahsoka I guess. Because that's what they're going to find, eventually.

"Normally no." LOL HUYANG KNOWS FORCE SHENANIGANS BE AT PLAY.

Also Hera, come on, you saw Ezra phase through a solid rock wall, people can absolutely disappear into thin air.

Chopper being a grouchy sassmaster as per usual lol.

SEIGE OF MANDALORE SIEGE OF MANDALORE SIEGE OF MANDALORE.

"Within you will be everything I am." THAT IS NOT REASSURING ANAKIN.

Oh yeah, yep, I'm not going to be capable of being normal about this, I need ALLLLLLLL the meta from dedicated Anakin girlies on this one.

Frick, his eyes went yellow.

Hayden is making this look effortless, amazing.

OHHHHHHHH OH AHSOKA'S EYES FLASHED EYLLOW JUST BRIEFLY OHHHHHH WOW.

SHE PASSED THE TEST.

Ohhhhhhh and the pathways are dissolving, something Force Weird be about to happen.

We're exiting the vision lol.

Jacen: *smiles*

Me: HE'S SO PRECIOUS IMMA DIE.

Oh yeah no, this episode was VERY heavily styled after some theatrical anime director, I will bet money on it.

Frick, Jacen playing with Chopper is the cutest shit ever.

WHITE ROBES WHITE ROBES THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

Yeah no, the height discrepancy between Rosario and Mary still bugs me.

Hello Rosario can emote, lol.

PURRGIL!

:(((((

~We're gonna follow the purrgil, we're gonna follow the purrgil.~

"That'll do." ARE WE GONNA RIDE SOME PURRGIL? LOL.

Teva is carrying this scene lolol.

"Okay. But you're not gonna believe me."

"How the whales took Ezra and the bad guys far far away." SOBBING, BLUBBERING, NO NOTES, CAN'T TALK.

Well this part is definitely Miyezakian.

Ahsoka looks so much happier and more content. *sobs*

Lol the "HO BOY" look on that Rebel commander's face.

Aw man, this is the kind of wonder and disbelief and awe that Lothal must have had in the finale.

Living legends. Like magic. Come to save them.

FRIIIIIIIIICK.

I HAVE NO NOTES.

I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY.

HELLO YES, THIS IS THE FORM THAT I WAS WAITING FOR. THE DEPTH OF EMOTIONAL RESONANCE. THE PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS OF WHO THIS CHARACTER IS, WHAT COMPLEXES SHE'S WORKING THROUGH, HOW SHE'S GOING TO RECONCILE HER IDENTITY AS VADER'S APPRENTICE AND MOVE FORWARD, FORGIVE HERSELF FOR THE GUILT.

I AM ROLLING IN THE DEPTHS OF IT.

ALSO, SPACE MARINERS, SPACE MARINERS, SPACE MARINERS.

AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!

[bigfan-fanfic]

So who was your gay awakening? If your like me and can’t remember one in particular who are some people/characters you can safely point the finger at?

Okay. Some men that 2008-2014 me was Definitely Not Normal about. I only really realized my own gayness around 2014, so these are the guys it became clear to me that I was actually crushing really hard on but before I realized I liked men in That Way.

Thor/Chris Hemsworth (first appearance 2011) - mythology? love it. hunks? love em. sexy accents? yes please. Put em all together and I'm a goner. Totally in love with Thor from the word go, and Chris Hemsworth was so charming and handsome that I even watched that stupid Red Dawn remake for him.

Gwaine (first appearance 2010) - ahhh, a cute scruffy guy with a playful sense of humor? Yeeeeeee. I was never into Merlin or Arthur the way so many seemed to be, but Gwaine pushed all the buttons I didn't know I had.

Chrom (first appearance 2012) - himbo prince that's moral and loving and even if you play a male Robin, you get a really deep relationship with him that can still read as romantic even with his literal wife right there. I love himmmmmm and he was one of the last nails in the coffin of presumed straightness-until-proven-gay

Steve Rogers/Chris Evans (first appearance 2011) - Steve grew on me over time, mostly due to Chris Evans' charm and sincerity in the character. I think I'd like him as a character less if a different or less-skilled actor played him - I mean, you know, the last part of The First Avenger where Steve sacrifices himself and says goodbye to Peggy is the only MCU movie scene I genuinely cried at. It never occurred to me until later that I had a crush on him.

Prince Phillip (I first remember seeing Sleeping Beauty in 2008) - Okay, he's cute, sweet, funny... and he spends a good portion of the movie tied up, so... yeah.

Bucky Barnes/Sebastian Stan (2014) - Probably the final nail in my coffin. He's just so cute and hot that I'm still happy about him haha

Obi-Wan Kenobi/Ewan McGregor (first remember seeing Attack of the Clones in 2009-2010) - it was the sexy jedi mullet. He's sooooo pretty and his accent slips through his RP voice as Obi-Wan sometimes and it's yum.

Haru (was only able to watch all the episodes of atla when my family got netflix because we didn't get nick and I had to watch it all scattered at my grandmother's, so around 2009) - hehe, was anyone else really interested in Haru the way I was? Long hair, moral and cute in the right ways. Didn't love his mustache later but he's still a hottie.

August Booth (first appearance 2012) - Forget Hook, August was the bad boy that I fixated on from Once Upon a Time. Not really sure why, but I just liked him a whole lot more.

[w0lp3rtinger]

Sneaking Santa

WOOO!

I was part of the Secret Shadamy Santa! This secret gift was for @Mikudecora!

I give a lot of credit to @killingthecringe, who helped me edit this.

You can also read it over on DeviantArt!

Happy belated holiday season! P.S.- Both @shadamyheadcanons and @lambpaca call Shadow’s chao Rosie. Both have influenced me greatly, as you can see XD I thank these two for the lovely brain food.

---

Amy whined, covering her face with her hands as her head lolled back. “I don’t know what to get them!” 

“Girl, I keep telling you, just give them money.” 

“Nooo!”

“Then I can’t help you.”

Amy huffed, letting her hands fall into her lap as she shot a glare at Rouge. The orange light of sunset made the apartment of black and white decor glow, and the gold trimmings Rouge had scattered about seemed to burn. It was fashionable, classy, the exact sort of apartment owned by a woman who recommended cash for a Christmas present.

Amy still wasn’t sure why she thought Rouge would be able to give good advice about this. 

“Shadow’s your friend, aren’t they?” 

Rouge cocked an eyebrow at that. “I’d like to think so, seeing how they live here.” 

“So, wouldn’t you know something about their interests and hobbies? Or something they’ve said they need?” 

“Yes.” 

Amy sat up straighter, “So why don’t you tell me what those things are and-” 

“No.” 

“Oh come on!” 

Rouge rolled her eyes. Kicking her feet up and onto the coffee table between them, she pulled a nail file from the end table by her elbow and began filing her nails. “Shadow is so particular that nothing I could assume they would like would be guaranteed a successful gift.” 

“It can’t be that bad.” 

“Amy, they took twelve minutes testing pens at the stationary store before they finally bought a pack.” 

Amy pursed her lips. “T-... twelve minutes?” 

“Yeah, and that’s the low bar.” Rouge smirked, “Another time, they went to four different stores to find socks that they liked. Won’t tell you how long that took, but I’m sure you can imagine.” 

Amy gripped her knees, shaking her head as she did so. Rouge laughed. “How’s that gift of cold hard cash looking now?” 

“Not doing it, Rouge,” Amy ground out. “Not doing it.” 

Amy ran her tongue along her teeth as Rouge rolled her eyes. She watched as Rouge flourished her nail file before starting on another finger. 

“Listen,” Rouge said with a huff, “You got the short end of the stick when you pulled Shadow for the Secret Santa. And I won’t lie and tell you that I’m sorry because I’m not. I rigged it. Thought it would be funny, and it is still absolutely funny, but the way you’re moping and whining is starting to get pathetic.” 

Amy hit her knees with her fists. “I’m not whining!” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes!” 

“Could have fooled me.” 

With a sigh, Amy shook her head. “No, I’m not whining because I haven’t given up yet, and I’m not giving up until I’ve run out of time or options… whichever comes first.” 

Rouge pursed her lips. “Jeez… rather die-hard of you, considering it’s just a Christmas present.”  

“It’s- Rouge, it’s because it’s Christmas that I gotta try extra hard!” 

“Sweetheart, they don’t even celebrate Christmas.” 

“But if they’re going out of their comfort zone to do a Secret Santa, and they work so hard for a holiday they don’t celebrate, it’ll be even worse when they don’t get a present they actually like!” 

Rouge snorted, waving her hand lazily even as Amy glared. 

“Rouge, have you ever gotten a gift from someone you think should know you, and it’s bad? Like, it’s just a bad gift?” 

Rouge raised an eyebrow at that, shaking her head. Amy sighed as she slouched into the couch. 

“It’s… awful.” 

Amy chuckled, watching as Rouge pursed her lips tightly. 

“A person who knows you should know what to get you, even if it’s just…time.” Amy said, gesturing between them, “Like- the promise to pay for dinner the next time you guys go out to a place you like. But when someone gives you something that’s totally not you? You have to wonder if they know you, and that sort of… hurts.” 

Rouge cocked an eyebrow at that. “Can’t say I relate.” 

“That’s because everyone just gets you gemstones.” 

“I’m an easy lady to shop for.” Rouge said with a shrug. “Or steal for. I’m not picky on how I get my gifts.” 

“Ugh, you would say that. I don’t even want to know what advice you’ve given Shadow for this Secret Santa thing,” Amy said as she rolled her eyes. “But… Do you know who they got?” 

“Yes.” 

Amy opened her mouth only for Rouge to hold up a finger. 

“No, I am not telling you.” 

“Rude,” Amy huffed, “Why?” 

“Ruins the sport of it.” 

“Why are you like this?” 

Rouge smiled, “A girl’s gotta have a hobby.” 

Amy ran a hand through her quills as she scoured the carpet for answers only to catch her eye on the very edge of a book sticking out from under the couch. Using her foot, she slid it gently out from the darkness where the dying sunlight coming through the window caught the gilded title. 

Amy cocked her head, picking up the book. “They like classical literature?” 

“What makes you ask that?” 

“Well,” she turned the book cover towards Rouge, “You don’t really strike me as someone who would read, ‘The Nutcracker and the Mouse King,’ no offense.” 

Rouge shrugged as she went back to filing her nails. Amy couldn’t help but let her attentions drift as she admired the cover, letting her fingers fall over the well-loved cloth binding.

Amy had never really thought about it before, but somehow, it felt right that Shadow would enjoy these children’s stories. The atmosphere and softness of them, as horrifying as some of the older ones could be, suited them in a way she could not form into words. 

Amy paused. 

“Rouge,” she said, “What would you do if I asked to go into Shadow’s room?” 

“What for?” 

“To, um-” she looked at the cover again, away from Rouge, “to put this book back. I’m sure they didn’t mean to leave it out here.” 

Rouge leveled her with a look. “They always leave their books under the couch. Try again.” 

Amy pursed her lips then, looking out the window. “I just… had the thought… that there’s a lot to Shadow that they don’t often really showcase.” 

“Yeah? And water’s wet. So what?” 

“So the one place that a person usually lets themselves relax and be them is their bedroom.” 

Rouge smirked. “Oh, so you want to go snooping and see if you can get some ideas for their Christmas present?” 

“It’s not snooping!” 

“It’s snooping.” 

“Just- ugh-” Amy forced herself to relax her grip on the book, lest she break its spine, “Can I go in or not?”

Rouge pointed over her shoulder with the nail file, still smirking at Amy, “Second door on the left.” 

Amy stood up from the couch, then paused, “They… won’t be mad, will they?” 

“At you? No.” Rouge shook her head, her smile curling in that mischievous way Amy had learned meant trouble.

“Will they get mad at you?” 

“Oh, that I don’t care about.” 

“You sure?” 

“Pinkey, I’ve no idea when they’re getting back, so I suggest you quit your quibbling and get moving.”  

Amy squeaked, jumping to attention before bolting for Shadow’s bedroom door. She could hear Rouge laughing behind her as she fumbled the doorknob and slipped inside. 

The room was dim, almost dark, and the smell of lavender and lemon wood polish hit her like a wave. She blinked frantically as she tried to get her eyes to adjust. The only light available was the frail beams of sun that wormed their way around closed curtains, but slowly, slowly she could begin to see the room before her. 

“Woah…” 

Amy took one step, then another, looking about her as she did so. The bed was small and built of dark wood, but stacked high with thick, heavy blankets in muted colours. She couldn’t help but touch one, her white gloves stark against the soft heather green, and from where she stood, she could see the very edge of the sheets poking out at the top of the duvet, smiling at the line of yellow roses there. However, that was nothing upon realizing that at the foot of their bed was a small cradle, filled with a thick blanket. 

“They got Rosie a bed?” Amy gasped, her free hand coming up to cover her mouth as she squealed. “Oh chaos, how cute is that?” 

After finally pulling herself away, she got to inspect the matching nightstand, who’s lower shelf was filled to the brim with notebooks. On top sat a bright yellow notebook, still in use with a pen tucked in as a makeshift bookmark, next to a study lamp and clock. Across from the bed stood two bookshelves, also dark wood, also absolutely packed with books and little odds and ends. Everything there was arranged in neat rows and stacks, all placed with a purpose Amy could not fathom. There was no dresser, but there was a closed closet door, tucked into a corner that led to the space behind the bed which was covered with what looked to be an amalgamation of cork boards. 

That’s when she turned and gasped. The wall where the door stood had a mirror that was surrounded with calendars, notes, and tacked-up paper. It was all organized, somehow, but not in a way she could readily understand. She squinted at the cramped cursive and frowned. 

“They write like they went to catholic school,” she muttered, barely making out the details of an appointment for a bike inspection. The hand holding Shadow’s book folded close to her chest as she leaned in. “It’s a wonder anyone can read this…” 

She bit her lip, looking towards the door as she did so. Drumming her fingers against the book, Amy hopped from one foot to the other before quickly rushing towards the bookshelves. She traced her finger along the wood as she read the titles, only to be distracted by the little trinkets blocking her view. She blinked, smiling as she picked up a slip of paper and squinted to make out the print. 

“Is this a movie ticket?” 

Amy flipped it over, surprised to find more of Shadow’s cramped handwriting. 

‘September 13th, 20XX, 1400

Spirited Aloft

All present

Movie good

Popcorn was soggy, terrible

Amy laughed at your joke.’ 

She quirked an eyebrow, unable to help but smile that Shadow still wrote down the specifics of the film even though they were printed on the ticket. Then, she paused, mouth parting slowly as her brow furrowed. ‘Amy laughed at your joke,’ she mouthed as she reread the words. 

Was Shadow talking about when they threatened to shove Sonic in the popcorn machine if he didn’t stop talking during the film? Amy stifled a giggle as she remembered how irate they had gotten. To be fair, she had been pretty frustrated too. She couldn’t remember how Shadow had phrased the threat, but in the moment, it had been so funny she had actually choked on her drink. 

Guess that meant something to them.  

Smiling, she put the ticket down, only to frown at how they had phrased the comment. 

‘Your joke.’ Not, ‘my joke,’ but, ‘your joke.’

Amy’s eye caught the notebooks near the bed again, then back to the door. 

She paused, listening intently. The grip she had on the book in her hands caused the binding to creek. Still, she heard no no sound from outside. 

Amy swiftly moved back to the wall by the door, the paper fluttering from her speed as leaned in to read. 

‘Dec 6th, 20XX 0300. You have a meeting with Towers. FOLLOWUP: Meeting was about Previous Mission. Notes Given. Notes Recorded in Journal 7, Page 125. Read before Next Mission. Next meeting will be Jan 4th.’

‘August 4th, 20XX 0800. You took your chao, Rosie, to the park. You learned today that she does not like the green chao with seal-like features. For future reference, keep them apart.’

‘September 23rd, 20XX 1900. Amy Rose’s birthday party. You have her gift wrapped and in your closet next to your socks. 

DO NOT FORGET. 

Notes will be recorded in Journal 7, page 162.

FOLLOWUP: You have Amy Rose as your Secret Santa Gift Recipient. Refer to Recorded Notes on page 162. New Notes will be on Board 1. Followup to follow post-Christmas Part, Dec 24th. ’ 

Amy hummed, holding the note about her birthday carefully by the tips of her fingers before letting it go, watching as it flitted against the wall before going still. Once again, she eyeballed the journals by their nightstand. Why would they record notes on their birthday? What notes were they taking now, since they were her Secret Santa? 

Amy bit her lip, then shook her head. No, no she would not do that to them. She would not read their journals, though it was becoming terribly tempting. However… 

Amy drifted towards the closet door, where the cork boards had been nailed into the wood. There, at the very top of the door, was a heavily covered pinboard with a large number one written on the frame in the upper left. Various scraps of scribbled notes had been pinned, scribbled out, and pinned over. Amy squinted as she leaned in to read, but there wasn’t enough light in this dark corner of the room. 

“So dark!” she hissed through gritted teeth, “And I really don’t have time but-!”

There was a squeal by her ankle and she froze. Looking down, she was met with the wide-eyed gaze of Rosie, the chao’s sharp teeth glinting in the low light. 

Amy placed a shaking finger to her lips as her ears strained to hear what was going on outside the door, only for her stomach to feel as though it dropped through the floor when she heard Shadow’s voice. 

“Rosie,” she whispered, “sweetie, I need you to be very quiet.” 

But Rosie was not quiet. Rosie squealed again, giggling as she flew up into the air and did a loop around Amy’s head. Amy tried to catch her, but Rosie dodged the grasping hand in favor of flying straight for the now slightly cracked door. 

Amy hissed through her teeth, eyes wide as she tried to run tip-toe to catch the chao. She made a desperate last grab only for Rosie to push the door open and-

Amy dodged to the side, uselessly trying to hide, and her shoulder hit the light switch.  

The light was blindingly bright and painful. Amy yelled as she threw the arm holding Shadow’s book over her face, flailing as she tried to hit the switch off. She could hear a high-pitched whine growing louder and louder the longer the light stayed on, the greater the panic that bubbled up within her. She whined and squinted through the light to try to find the switch. Her eyes watered while she squinted through the glare. 

Then, all of the sudden, she heard a click, and the light was off again. 

“Why are you in here?” 

Amy froze. She turned slowly only to come face to face with Shadow who was standing right behind her, watching her with those hard eyes. Rosie sat on top of their head, still giggling as she watched Amy, with a face that said the chao knew exactly what trouble it had caused.  

She took a step away, giggling nervously. 

“I-,” she fumbled, holding their book out in front of them, “This was under the couch. I figured you’d want it somewhere safe.” 

Shadow blinked slowly, taking the book from them. They drummed their fingers on the cover, the sound causing a shiver to crawl up Amy’s spine. Shadow’s brow furrowed for a moment, and Amy watched as their eyes slid from hers to their room behind her. She saw them chew the inside of their lip, shuffling where they stood as though suddenly too nervous to look at her again. 

Her heart sank and she sighed, tightly shutting her eyes as she covered her face with her hands. 

“I… also was looking for clues about what to get you for Christmas.” 

Shadow said nothing. The silence stretched. Amy’s hands began to shake. 

“I’m so sorry!” The words came in a tumbled rush. “I just wanted to get you something nice! Something you’d actually like! I know Christmas isn’t really your thing, and with the crowds- There’s nothing worse than a shitty gift from someone who should know you better and I want to make it worth it and-” 

“H-hey,” their voice sounded strangely small. “It’s fine.” 

“It’s not fine!”

She heard Rosie coo gently, and felt the chao headbut her hands. Amy relented just enough to take Rosie from the air and hold her, but still, she did not open her eyes. 

“Amy-” there was a pause, then a huff, “Would you look at me?” She scrunched her face, but all the same, slowly opened her eyes. 

“I really am sorry,” she mumbled, still pouting. “And if I can make it up to you, please let me know.” 

For a moment the two of them stood in silence. Then, much to her surprise, Amy saw Shadow laugh. 

It wasn’t much. In fact, it was probably the quietest laugh she had ever heard. The smile that normally was restrained to their eyes and never the rest of their face turned the corners of their mouth up as they rolled their eyes, shaking their head as they did so. A light almost fluttering sound she could only assume was their laugh echoed in their throat, gone in an instant as they  coughed into one closed fist. 

“You… probably know by now that I have you for Secret Santa.” 

Amy pouted. “Yeah… more because Rouge said she rigged the game than anything else, but yeah.” 

She could see Shadow grit their teeth. 

“Oh?” 

Amy nodded. Shadow pinched the bridge of their nose. 

“Why am I not surprised…” they huffed, shaking their head. “Listen, why don’t you tell me what you’d like, and we’ll call it even.” 

“...That’s it?” 

Shadow nodded, “That’s it.” 

“But-” 

They held up a hand. “I’ve been trying to figure out something since November, and I’m running out of time and patience.” 

Amy couldn’t help herself as she giggled. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been in the same situation trying to figure out what you might like.” 

“I don’t need anything.” 

“Oh really?” Amy put one hand on her hip, the other still holding Rosie, “Oh, Mr. Ultimate Life-Form doesn’t need anything? Well what if little old me doesn’t need anything either?”

She grinned as she watched Shadow’s eyes narrow, one of their ears twitching. 

“Cream told me you were looking to purchase a pressure canner. If you don’t give me an answer, I’m going to assume she’s right.” 

“Don’t you dare! Those are expensive!” 

Shadow crossed their arms. “I never said I’d get it new.” 

Amy opened her mouth, then closed it as she rocked on the heels of her boots. “Okay, fair… and yes, yes l was looking to get one of those.” 

“Excellent. Merry Christmas in advance. Now please leave.” 

“Hold up!” Amy held a finger under Shadow’s nose, watching as they went cross eyed trying to follow it, “I want to know what to get you, too!” 

“Isn’t that what you broke into my room for?” 

“Yes, but I couldn’t get any good answers!”    

“Oh well,” Shadow said, a smirk slowly sliding across their face as Rosie laughed again.

“No! Come on! You have to tell me!” 

“I don’t have to tell you anything. Now leave.” 

Amy squinted, eyes darting between them and the light switch on the wall. The smirk fell from Shadow’s face as she reached a hand out towards it. 

“Don’t you dare,” they hissed.  

“I’ll do it. I��ll turn the light back on.” 

“You will not.”

“Try me.” 

“Threatening me? In my own room? Over a Christmas gift?” 

Amy puffed up her chest. “I say that’s a good enough reason.” 

“Careful, you’re starting to sound like Rouge.” 

Even as Shadow sneered at her, Amy could see the way they looked between her and the light switch. With a huff, Amy dropped her outstretched hand to support Rosie who had decided at this point to try and climb onto her head.

“What even is wrong with your lights anyway?” she said, looking towards the fixture in the center of the ceiling. “It’s like they’re built to kill.” 

“Voltage issue,” they grumbled.

“Haven’t you asked anyone to fix it?” 

“Doesn’t matter. Stop changing the subject.” 

Amy crossed her arms. “I mean, it does. It’s hard on the eyes.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“But-”

“I like low-lighting, alright?” Shadow rolled their eyes as they shook their head. “I’m fine. Now, please, leave.” 

Amy pouted, opening her mouth to retort only to pause. The gears in her head whirled as slowly, her furrowed brow lifted and her mouth curled into a smile. She leaned in, grinning ear to ear. 

“I think I know what to get you for Christmas.” 

Shadow squinted at her, pulling back ever so slightly. “You do?” 

Amy nodded as she giggled. “Can I run it by you? Just to double-check?” 

She couldn’t help but notice how Shadow looked away, and for a split second, she swore she saw a look of nervousness flash across their face even as they nodded. 

“How about I get you some nice hanging lights?” she said, pointing at the ceiling as she did so. “Like a couple sets of nice energy efficient string lights, where you can change the color, the brightness, all that stuff! So no matter how you’re feeling or what you need, they’ll work for you!” 

Shadow seemed to freeze. It was at this moment Rosie started squirming, Amy’s vision momentarily blocked by her tiny hands wiggling for Shadow as she cooed. Slowly, Shadow took her, letting Amy be free to clasp her hands at her chest while she bounced gleefully from foot to foot.  

“You’re not saying no-oo~!” 

Shadow blinked, shaking their head a little as they seemed to come back to themself and look up from Rosie. “That… does sound nice.” 

“So you think you’d like that?” 

Shadow nodded, and Amy could not contain a shriek of glee as she hugged them, jumping up and down. “Yes! Yes yes yes! Aaaaah I’m so happy! I’ve been so worried- I wanted to get you something you liked so badly!” 

She laughed as she let them go. “Sorry, okay, I- I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’ll get out of your quills!” 

Shadow, eyes wide, only nodded. Amy couldn’t help but lean in for one more hug, squeezing tightly as she squealed with glee before rushing out and towards the apartment door. 

“Thanks again, Rouge!” she said as she rushed through the living room. 

“For what?” She called out, lifting her head from the couch.

Amy didn’t bother to reply. She just laughed as she closed the door. 

[yangxiaolongprotectionsquad]

Some stand out things to me that were DEFINITELY overshadowed by the most tender, soul-restoring, gorgeous, stunning confession to ever be conceived and executed, in no particular order:

1. I know some ppl are unhappy abt Weiss being down bad for Jaune now but I personally think it’s fucking HILARIOUS and the way RBY were all 🤨 was amazing. Jaune fr looks good…. “MATURE” LMFAOOO Weiss really put on her clown shoes and I love her for that

2. I don’t think anyone thought Alyx’s story was going to be totally accurate but DAMN. Writing her kind brother out of the story entirely, sacrificing him to return to Remnant, poisoning Jaune? What a twist.

It shines an entirely new light on her interactions with those in the Ever After. The Crimson King ascended into a colossal shithead because of how she beat him—no wonder he resents humans so much. I think it’s likely that she cheated to win, so when he came back it was with a vengeance. I wonder at how she and Louis were raised to become opposites?

3. The Curious Cat is basically Ozpin. A helpful if eccentric guide at first, that eventually is forced to confront a painful reality. What really makes the connection stand out is how the Cat deflects by saying things like, “You never asked,” regarding the brother. They both technically don’t lie outright but they do withhold crucial information that would change how the others would perceive them and the world.

I fucking LOVE the parallels man. The nail in the coffin was when the Curious Cat left after admitting Alyx played them. I’m certain the cat will return in some way or another, like Ozpin.

4. Ruby. Oh dear, Ruby. She’s been lost ever since she fell. Literally of course, but mentally, too. She doesn’t know her purpose, her role, her reason to keep going when Salem is out there with two relics and the situation appears hopeless. Volume 8 was a massive pill to swallow, and her plan failing has had horrible consequences. She’s at a crossroad, (lol), because she needs to be a leader.

She can’t doubt herself, she can’t fail, she has everyone relying on her and that burden has never been heavier than it is right now. It’s crushing her, so she’s trying to lighten that load by erasing pieces of herself. Ruby gave away her emblem. Penny’s sword.

Her beloved Crescent Rose, a PART of her, at least symbolically, being given back to her by Jaune, offers ZERO reassurance. Worse still, just looking at it fills her with dread. It’s a symbol of every burden she’s shouldered and every battle she’s fought.

Jaune returning Crescent Rose is akin to him saying, “We need to keep going, to keep fighting.”

And Ruby Rose, the optimistic hero and legend straight out of a fairy tale, wishes she could just disappear.

SO YEAH. That’s my incoherent analysis. I think volume 9 has already become my favourite, and EDDY RIVAS. It cannot be said enough how amazing the script was. Truly. The animators went ballistic. The concept and background designers? They served us a 5 star meal. Miles is SLAYING as an older Jaune, who is both familiar and yet distinctly different. Lindsey, Kara, Arryn, and Barb continue to give us incredible performances.

HOW COULD I NOT MENTION CASEY AND MARTIN??? Banger after certified banger. Give me the album.

Thank you, CRWBY. For everything. I knew you’d deliver but you’ve outdone yourselves. That’s all I can say for now, but I’ve deadass had a smile glued on my face since I watched the ep, and you should know that.

[total-drama-takes-takes-2]

tti episode 15

“Last time on Total Takes Island: The remaining competitors finally made the merge and competed in an ultimate test of endurance. Patrick and Ass were brought back to the island, stirring up some old trouble. In the end, Courtney won immunity, and Scruffy took the walk of shame, leaving their friend Julia with some peculiar parting words. Will the remaining campers survive to see another challenge? Will Bonnie and Courtney stay safe in the game? Find out now- on Total! Takes! Island!”

According to previous weather forecasts, this particular morning is bound to be sunny, with a mild breeze and a warm but not-too-hot temperature- the perfect challenge conditions. According to Chris McLean’s brand new automated weather machine, it’s snowing. 

“What is this?” Julia asks upon opening the curtains on one of the small windows in the former Anon’s cabin (where all the girls and such had recently been moved post-merge). 

“What’s what?” Bonnie groans, not even lifting their head from their pillow. 

Michael murmurs something indistinct in the bunk above them and rolls over. Ass lifts up their sleeping mask to see what the commotion is, and then pulls it back on, putting in a pair of earbuds playing an audiobook retelling of the Peloponnesian war. 

“It’s snowing,” Julia remarks dryly, stepping away from the window to show everyone. 

Kelly raises an eyebrow. “How can it be snowing? It’s June?”

“You know, my second aunt Tracey is a top meteorologist, or um… yeah, that’s right!” Staci says, hopping out of bed to look outside. “I bet I could figure this out!”

“It’s probably just Chris,” Michael sighs, turning back over. “Can we go back to bed?”

“What if we get snowed in and miss the challenge?” Kelly asks. 

Bonnie grumbles. “You mean what if you get snowed in and miss the challenge. It’s all for one, remember?” 

“Whatever. This is lame, I’m getting breakfast,” Julia sighs, putting on the warmest clothing she brought (which admittedly isn’t much) and beaming brightly. “Wanna come, Mikey?”

Michael lifts her head and raises an eyebrow. “Um… yeah, I guess. And don’t call me that,”

---

MICHAEL: “Funny how as soon as Scruffy is gone Julia wants to be friends again, isn’t it?”

---

The boy’s and such cabin is deathly quiet this morning as the only remaining male campers don’t exactly have anything nice to say to each other. They’ve already staked out on opposite corners of the room, Max taking the middle right bunk, McLovin taking the top left and Patrick taking the bottom left. None speak to each other until McLovin walks outside without looking and lands face-first in the thick blanket of snow beneath the porch roof. 

“Snow?” Patrick asks plainly. “Not possible. It’s June.”

Max rolls his eyes. “Nice deduction, Sherlock,” before layering another blazer on and walking out into the cold. 

Chris’ voice blares over the speakers. “Good morning, campers! Lovely weather we’re having! Meet me in the amphitheater for today’s challenge in an hour!”

McLovin shivers violently as he stands, just for Patrick to shove him again while passing by. 

---

Ass files their nails in the communal bathrooms, turning them into pointed claws while casually listening to their audiobook and chewing gum. The doors open and Kelly walks in, dragging a snow-covered portable tanning bed behind them. Ass doesn’t offer to help. 

“Morning! What’re you listening to?”

They ignore them at first. 

“What’re you listening to?” Kelly repeats, assuming Ass simply didn’t hear them. 

They sigh, and take out the earbuds. “One Direction,”

“Oh, I love One Direction! I love everyone, honestly, there are no bad genres,” Kelly remarks with a huff as they drag their tanning bed to the right spot. “Wouldn’t you say?”

“Whatever,”

Ass turns and watches as Kelly plugs in the machine. It fizzles to life with short bursts of electricity around the already-blackened outlet. They sigh. 

“You want some advice?”

“Ooh, sure!”

“You may have had that airheaded doofus for the easy part of the competition, but this is serious stuff now. Compared to who’s left, you’re not exactly the sharpest knife in Chef’s kitchen, you know? And I’m trying to etch out the strongest first, so you staying in the game is a mutually beneficial arrangement, wouldn’t you agree?”

Kelly thinks for a moment, eyebrow raised. “Um… sure,”

“Then let me give you some pointers. Just between us girl friends, right?”

---

Michael looks relatively unbothered in her parka as the rest of the campers shiver around her, hugging themselves and curling their knees up to their chests. McLovin’s teeth chatter. Chris stands in the center of the stage, dressed in mountaineering gear and holding a pair of skis. 

“Now, normally this challenge calls for a pirate theme- however, someone lost our costume bin,” he glares at Chef, who’s on a snowmobile some feet away. He rolls his eyes. “So today, we’re going full-on mountain expedition!” Chris steps out of the way, revealing a lumpy mass covered by a tarp, which he promptly pulls off. Under it are a few locked coolers. “You’ll be exploring around the frozen island to find the keys to open these chests- one of which holding the key to your invincibility!”

The crowd murmurs in relative excitement, though almost everyone is still shivering. Chef distributes a few flimsy parkas (for legal reasons) before handing everyone a clue card for their keys. 

Julia stares down at hers. Chef’s fridge. “Aren’t these supposed to be winter themed, or something?”

“They are,” Chris grins. Chef walks out in a santa costume, holding a butcher’s knife with a mistletoe taped on it. Julia swallows a lump in her throat and turns to Michael. 

“Hey, bestie! Tradesies?”

“Um… no, thanks. I’ll take my chances with the frozen pond by the cabins,”

“Awww, come on, please?” Julia pouts. “Isn’t this what friends are for?”

A flash of annoyance crosses Michael’s face. “Fine,” she nabs Julia’s clue and replaces it with hers, then storms off. 

Patrick rolls his eyes at the commotion, nudging Ass with his elbow. “Heh. Women, right?”

"Tell me about it. Those two are getting on my nerves,"

Max gives Ass and Patrick an annoyed glance and takes a long step away before looking at his clue. “This is just a pine tree. There are thousands of them on this island!”

“Better start looking then, dude,” Chris chuckles. 

“Oh, I can help!” Kelly beams, running over and placing a hand on Max’s shoulder. He gives her an odd look. 

“Fine,”

“Yay!”

---

KELLY: “Since Austin is gone now, I have to start taking things more seriously- that’s what Ass says, anyway. I don’t think I trust them fully, yet, but some of the things they say make sense. I need allies, and smart ones!”

---

“Hey, I thought we were gonna team?” Staci asks, a dejected tone in her voice. 

Kelly winks. “I have a master plan. I’ll tell you later!”

Staci watches Kelly walk off with Max and frowns, then turns to the remaining competitors. She steps up to a still-shivering McLovin and peers over his shoulder at his clue. “What’s that supposed to be?” 

He sighs. “It’s a polar bear,”

“There are polar bears on the island?”

Chris shouts. “Specially imported!”

“Hm,” Staci thinks for a moment. “How about this? I’ll help you with yours, if you help me with mine.”

“What’s yours?”

Staci holds up their clue, an embellished image of an ice block. “Can’t be any harder than a polar bear, right?”

---

Courtney walks through the barely-cleared off path in the woods alone, humming to themselves while holding their clue in their pocket. A hike up the mountain- how hard could it be? Just a few hours walk and they’d be back at the amphitheater in time for lunch. 

They approach a fork in the woods, looking to the path diverging right before suddenly bumping into something hard. “Ow!”

“Hey!” Someone yells. Courtney regains their composure and looks over, seeing Bonnie arrive from the opposite direction. “Oh. Hey.”

“Hi. Not with anyone?”

“Nope. I’m flying solo now,”

“Oh. Me, too,” 

Bonnie nods. “Mhm,”

Courtney nods back. “Uh-huh,”

And with that they awkwardly wave goodbye and start on their separate ways. 

---

COURTNEY: “In a way I’m grateful Bonnie also wants to go their own way now. I never had to break the news to them that we couldn’t be friends anymore. But on the other hand… Is it wrong to be disappointed that they never made a big deal about it?”

---

Kelly and Max walk along a beaten down backwoods trail that’s only been marked by a set of Chef’s boot prints the two have been following for what feels like hours. Kelly is humming a soft tune to themselves, braiding a strand of hair and trailing behind Max. 

He’s been continuously stopping and looking back and slowing down to accommodate them, and it’s beginning to get on his nerves. “Can you go any faster? We have a challenge to win,”

“We do?” Kelly asks sweetly, untying her hair to braid it again. 

“Don’t you want to find your key?”

They reach into their pocket and pull out a yellow metallic key. “This?”

Max’s jaw drops and he stares. “Where did you…?”

“Oh, somewhere back there,” Kelly shrugs, walking past Max as he looks at the ground, completely perplexed. 

---

KELLY: "Rule number 2: stay quiet and keep out of people's way!"

---

Ass watches from behind the snowy brush as Courtney passes, waiting until the coast is clear. Once they’re sure they’re alone, they slip their headphones back in and keep walking, arriving at the mess hall within minutes. 

The inside is dim, lit by candles and filled with the scent of pine. “Corny,” Ass remarks before taking a seat at one of the tables, which is covered in the fanciful feast from their clue card. A massive turkey, a ham, cranberry sauce, beans, casserole, mashed potatoes, three different puddings, and a fruit cake. 

Chef stands at the kitchen door, smiling wickedly. “Dig in,”

Ass smiles at the array before picking up a nearby candle holder, snuffing out the flame and using the silver stand to smash into the food. 

---

ASS: “I figured that Chris must’ve done something with the meal- laxatives or sleeping pills or something gross like that. I’m not taking my chances- the last thing I need right now is Chris walking out from behind a curtain and telling me all the food I just ate was actually made from cockroach parts and styrofoam.”

---

The ham- mush. The turkey- shredded. The cake- crumbled. The sides are reduced to shrapnel as Ass smashes through them. Chef shakes his head, then his eyes widen as they reach the green bean casserole. “Wait-”

A mini-landmine hidden in the dish goes off, sending Ass flying out the window and Chef into the kitchen. Michael opens the mess hall door, eyebrow raised at the charred and blackened interior and the bits of meat and beans everywhere. She walks into the kitchen, stepping over Chef’s unconscious body and opening the fridge to grab her key and walk out with a smile. 

Key in hand, Michael walks over to her original destination- the frozen pond between the cabins- and smiles slightly as she watches Julia scream and slide around on it, taking a seat to enjoy the spectacle. 

---

Kelly continues to drift behind Max as he scans the pine trees around the trail for any sign of his key. They’re rambling on about some asinine story Austin had told them, which is of no significance to Max, thus he tunes them out as he studies the treeline. 

A vague rumbling in the distance catches both of their attentions as they turn just in time to see a massive avalanche coming down the mountain side. 

Bonnie comes running in their direction. “MOVE!”

Max and Kelly comply, following them as a massive wave of snow crashes behind them. Bonnie gets far enough ahead to scale a tree to the top, their two runner-ups following shortly behind. The snow shakes the base of the pine, forcing everyone to cling on. Max watches in horror as a key falls from the canopy and gets lost in the river of snow. 

“NOOO!” he shouts. 

The avalanche eventually settles down, slowing to a grinding halt just as Courtney slides down on a makeshift sled made of tree bark. They groan. 

“Did you find your key?” Bonnie asks, panting. 

They shake their head. “You?”

They hold up a key from their pocket and sigh before falling from the tree to the snow, exhausted. Max grumbles something to himself and growls at Kelly when they attempt to comfort him. 

---

KELLY: “He’s not much like Austin, I don’t think, but it’s like Ass says! Rule number 3: don’t give up until you’ve exhausted every last resource!”

---

Kelly leans over and in one split-second, fatal swoop, they kiss him. Courtney winces and Bonnie, barely awake, makes a gagging sound. Max turns red and immediately tenses, his completely stiff body falling backwards from the tree branch into the snow. 

---

KELLY: “I, um... I may have gone a little overboard, ahah,”

---

COURTNEY: “Okay… gross. And wasn’t blondie dating that weird British guy?”

---

Bonnie sits in the confessional, pointing at their throat and gagging again. 

---

Ass walks over on snowshoes, sooty and blackened with their eyebrows burnt off but holding a key nonetheless. “What happened to him?”

Courtney makes a weak “Ummm” sound before Ass rolls their eyes and declares they don’t care while walking off. 

---

“Okay, on my count, I’ll run in with the fish and you’ll sneak behind the bear,” Staci says, on her elbows and knees in an army crawl. McLovin, sitting beside her with a hastily-knitted hat covering his stubbly head, nods. 

“One- two- three!” she yells, confidently popping up and running into the cave with a handful of fish. The resting polar bear inside wakes up and roars. 

---

STACI: “No, I wasn’t afraid. My great-great-great uncle Flavius was a bear trainer in the Russian circus,” they pause for a moment. “At least, I’m pretty sure. I’ve been a little scrambled since yesterday, I’m trying to keep the pieces together. But... I’m still Staci, aren’t I?”

---

A flash of fear crosses Staci’s face and they scream, running out of the cave with the bear in pursuit. McLovin follows, shouting and waving his arms. 

---

Patrick casually walks down a path in the woods, in no certain rush. He reads his clue again- a simple image of a snowman. 

He smirks as he catches a flash of orange and red from behind the brush, and steps into a clearing to see not one- but dozens of snowmen. His face drops. 

---

Courtney and Bonnie carry a half-conscious Max back to camp, looking at each other nervously while he deliriously mumbles to himself. Kelly lags far behind, a guilty expression on their face. 

A scratched up and tired looking Staci arrives at the cabins with beat-up looking McLovin, who’s holding a snapped-in-half and hastily taped-back-together key. Michael- still sitting by the pond and watching Julia slide around, looks back as the two different groups arrive. “What happened?” she, Bonnie, and Staci ask in unison. 

“Bears,” McLovin sighs. “S-so many bears.”

“Well, just one, but it was like, really mad,” Staci continues. “What’s going on here?”

Courtney rolls their eyes. “Kelly kissed him,”

“Kelly did WHAT?” Michael and Staci shout in unison. 

---

STACI: “That was this big plan they couldn’t let me in on!? Seriously?! I would’ve kissed him… wait, no. I wouldn’t have. But Kelly could’ve kissed me! Why can’t I be a pawn?!”

---

MICHAEL: “I’m not mad! I’m not! I mean, it’s just insane! Kelly has to have some kind of mental disorder to do that. Who’d want to kiss Max? Not me! NOT me!”

---

“Oh, you are so out of here!” Michael shouts, pointing an accusing finger at Kelly. 

“What about Austin?! What about me?!” Staci sniffles. McLovin pats her shoulder to comfort her before collapsing backwards, his skin tinted blue. 

“What’s going on over here?” Julia pants, sliding onto shore with her key finally in hand. 

“NOTHING!” Kelly, Michael, and Staci yell in unison. Julia blinks. 

“Attention, campers! You have five minutes of hunting left- after that, report to the amphitheater for your prizes!”

The collective groans, and the camera zooms out to reveal Ass listening from behind the cabins. 

---

ASS: “Okay, that was beautiful. And I didn’t even intend for that to happen! This is too damn easy,”

---

“Alrighty, explorers, it’s time to claim your prizes! Everyone with a key, come forward,”

The crowd grumbles- Bonnie, Kelly, McLovin, Ass, Michael, Julia, and Scary approach. Julia turns to Scary, and then looks around. “Um… where have you been?”

“Playing the challenge, duh!” she snaps back. Julia raises an eyebrow. 

---

JULIA: “You know… maybe Scruffy was right. Maybe there really is something weirder happening on this island,”

---

Patrick walks in last, covered in scratches, dirt, and wet from the snow. Chris chuckles. “Woah, dude, what happened to you? You got the easiest card!”

He shrugs. “Bears,”

---

Brief flashback to the snowman clearing, where Patrick is sitting in the fetal position in the snow and sobbing. 

---

“Ooookay. Bonnie, go ahead,”

Bonnie tries their key on a cooler, which opens and reveals a shiny toaster. “Seriously?”

Michael tries hers next- nothing. Dud key. Ass and Scary have similar results, though only one of them goes on a monologue about what they had to go through to get it. 

McLovin gets a leg lamp. Kelly gets a bag of chips and a can of soda, which they offer to Michael and Staci as peace offerings. Michael crushes the bag and gives it to Julia (who’s other hand is occupied with an accordion) and Staci just whimpers and sobs. 

“Cute,” Patrick says, hoisting up a gift basket. “Tasteful. Very nice. And oh- lookie here,” he holds up an invincibility pass. Ass rolls their eyes. 

“Looks like Patrick is safe. The rest of you, I’ll see you all tonight at the campfire ceremony,” Chris chuckles. 

---

Julia walks up ahead of the group, watching Scary as they somersault to the campfire pit. Most of the snow had already melted by mid-afternoon, leaving only the cold wind chills and brief patches of ice to worry about. 

Michael jogs up to her. “Hey, I need to count on your vote for tonight. Bonnie and Courtney and I already chose someone,”

“Who?”

Michael whispers in Julia’s ear. She thinks for a moment. “Yeah, no. That’s not who Ass is voting for,”

“Seriously?” Michael snaps. She suddenly steps in front of Julia, blocking her path and lowering her voice. “You listen to me, and actually listen. I am done being your pawn. You’re only still in this because I have been carrying your sorry fake-blonde ass since the beginning. If you want to count on my allyship for the rest of the game, you’re voting with us. Otherwise, you’re next.”

Julia frowns deeply, seeming slightly intimidated for a second. 

---

JULIA: “Me? Scared of Michael? Can you imagine? But I… played along anyway, you know? I need the manpower and she’s been stepping out of line lately. Plus, I need to secure my place on the island until I figure out what's going on with Scary.”

---

“Fine. But tomorrow’s vote is my choice,”

“Fine!” and with that, Michael speeds up ahead. 

---

“Fun challenge today, huh?” Chris chuckles. The campers glare at each other. “Patrick won invincibility today, so he’s safe!” 

Patrick smirks from across the fire. 

“McLovin… Staci… Max… Ass… Scary… Bonnie… Courtney,”

“Julia… you’re safe,” Chris looks between the two remaining competitors. Michael glares at Kelly, who smiles nervously and gives a slight wave. “And the final marshmallow… goes to…”

The campers watch in anticipation- Ass rolling their eyes besides them. 

“Michael! You’re safe. Sorry, Kelly, you got played.” he chuckles.

Kelly sulks as they walk to the boat, head and shoulders hanging. Staci follows, running up the dock as they board. “I’m sorry, Kelly! But I couldn’t go on like this!” 

Kelly frowns. “I was a fool, I never should've listened to them. Can you ever forgive me?”

"Wait- who's them?"

"Ass... it's complicated..." Kelly sighs. "Can you forgive me?"

“Of course. I don’t blame you!” Staci says, tears in their eyes. “And I know Austin won’t either!”

“We’ll see!” Kelly yells as the boat takes off. “You’re my best friend!”

“You’re my best friend!” Staci shouts back before frowning deeply, a tear running down their cheek. 

---

STACI: “Okay, no more of this. No more fun, no more games, no more moping. The original Staci didn’t win, but you know what? I don’t have to follow canon. I can make my own rules. And this Staci says Ass is going down.”

---

[sabraeal]

want your heart (to be for me), Part 1

[Read on AO3]

The last of my Holiday Gifts for the year, posted a few weeks late due to this particular fic growing COMPLETELY out of control. It was supposed to be a one shot, but since this is nearly 5K in and of itself...I decided two parts would be the best decision.

A god’s work, Nanami has found, is never done.

She spends two weeks rolling about the ocean floor, trying to untangle the complex politics of the courts of the sea gods and their tumultuous marriages, but when Himemiko’s wedding drama settles enough for the waves to spit her back out on land, she’s sure-- certain, really-- that this time she’ll keep her feet dry and nose clean long enough to make it through exams.

That is, until some sky god falls in love with Tomoe, stealing him away to her cloud city or whatever. Three days of growing wings-- painfully one bone at a time-- and nearly a week of learning how to use them all ends in a burst of shimmering feathers the moment her toes touch the tip of Mount Kurama, all her hard work amounting to little more than pillow stuffing. Two days before the test.

Her just-barely passing marks would be worth it, if only that jerk would appreciate the effort.

“Thanks again for letting me stay, Kei-chan.” Nanami’s sure to put on her brightest smile, the one that makes Tomoe choke and Mizuki sigh.

Kei barely bothers to look up from her phone. “What? Oh, yeah, no problem.”

“Really--” she sprinkles a little more earnestness on this one, teeth hurting as she keeps them bared-- “it means a lot to me! It would have been a real pain trying to get back to the shr-- home tonight.”

“Yeah, totally, I get it. You really live out in the boonies.” Her fingers fly across the keyboard, nails ticking and tacking in the same staccato bursts as a typewriter. Or gunfire, maybe, considering the amount of bodies she’s leaving behind. “It’s no problem. My parents are never home, so you can come by whenever.”

Nanami blinks. “Wha--? Really?”

“Why not?” Her shoulders twitch in what might be a shrug’s lazier cousin. “I mean, I’ll probably be on a date, but if you need a place to be...the door’s not always open, because I don’t need my stuff stolen, but it’s here.”

It’s not the first time she’s had the rug ripped out from under her, but this is the first time it’s felt like a magic trick. Sure she stumbles, but she’s still on her feet, and what’s beneath her is so much sturdier than some raggedy old tablecloth. “That’s really kind of y--”

Kei flicks off her screen like punctuation.“Ami-chan’s at the door.”

The girl’s all limbs, but when Kei sweeps up from the couch it’s graceful, in a way Nanami could never manage. Or well, in a way she’d think she’d be able to, up until Tomoe slunk in with his stupid smirk, insinuating that everything about her was so unfortunately human. “Make yourself at home or whatever.”

“Oh, okay,” she murmurs faintly from the floor, the impulse to jump up and hug her fading as Kei strides through the door. “Thank you, I gue--”

The door slams shut on any more earnestness. Knowing Kei, that’s on purpose.

“Well well, Nanami-chan,” a reedy voice pipes from behind her, more confident in its welcome than it deserves, “it’s not quite as spacious as home, but I suppose we could do worse.”

Nanami twists around so tightly she nearly wrings herself out, her limbs tangled up so hopelessly that she can do little more than gape as Mizuki paws through Kei’s bed, making himself right at home. “Mizuki, what--?”

“As much as I hate to give that wild fox any credit, he certainly dreams up better bedding than this. Is this even real cotton?” He tugs at the fitted sheet, mouth thinning out to a grimace. “Ah, well. Beggars and choosers.”

“What are you doing?” Here, specifically, but she’ll settle for any answers that wrap up before Kei can saunter back in, Ami in tow. “You’re supposed to be back at the shrine!”

“Where else would I be?” he asks her, expression rumpled reproachfully. “I’m your familiar, Nanami-chan. If you’re leaving because of that nasty fox, then I will help you settle in your new shrine. Even if it means I’ll have to cut back on my brewing.”

Mizuki’s words may be nothing but aggressive support and positivity, but the disparaging glance he spares Kei’s bedroom-- well, he could teach the mean girls at school a thing or two.

“I’m not leaving! And certainly not because of Tomoe!” There’s no sense in doing that when he’s already spending all of his time sulking in the spirit realm, punishing her for daring to enjoy a kiss. “It’s just a long walk from the city to the shrine. It’s not safe for a girl in the dark!”

At least, that’s what Ami had told her, wide eyed and trembling. It’s the sort of thing Nanami would typically wave off-- it’s hardly the first time she’s had to make that walk after the sun’s set, and it certainly won’t be the last if Tomoe’s going to bury himself in tanuki every time her crush rubs his fur the wrong way-- but Kei put her phone down, serious, and agreed. And when Ami added, especially since Tomoe is out of town with his family, for good measure, and well--

Stretching her legs outside of the shrine seemed like a better and better idea every minute.

Mizuki tilts his head, eyes narrowing until he’s more snake than human. “You’re right,” he decides. “It’s much better for you to be here. I’d hate to think what that wild fox would do if he caught you on your date.”

Nanami whips around with a yelp. “My what?”

“Your date,” he clarifies, too confident for someone living so far from reality. “With the crow god.”

“Oh, that.” She laughs, the tension slumping straight out of her shoulders. “That’s not a date. I’m just showing Jirou around the city. It’s the least I can do after he taught me how to use those stupid wings.”

They hadn’t felt stupid at the time; no, they’d felt powerful and dangerous, like she was a Real God, not just some high schooler thrust into the spirit world at the whims of a butterfly who thought she might make a good lesson for his familiar. Ha. If she’s a lesson, it’s one Tomoe sure isn’t happy to learn.

“Oh.” Mizuki pulls the sound too long; goosebumps pimple up her arms. “Well, I suppose he will be very disappointed, then.”

A strange knot knits itself in her stomach, heavy as a stone, rattling around as she shifts onto her hip, frowning at him. “What do you mean by that? This is what he asked for.”

Or rather, he’d said, I have grown curious about this mortal world. I want to see why it draws so many crows off the mountain. Same difference, if you ask her.

Mizuki stares at her. “You told him it was a date.”

Her jaw drops. “I did not.”

“You did, you said--” he pitches his voice higher, nothing like her own-- “Is that all? It’s a date!”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” she insists, cheeks burning. “It’s just-- it’s a saying. I’m sure he knows that.”

Even still, Nanami can’t forget the wide-eyed way Jirou had looked at her, nor his murmured, is it...?

Mizuki hums, unconvinced. “If you say so, Nanami-chan.”

Her mouth opens. To say just what, she’ll never know, since the door flies open at the same time, and with the reflexes of a god-- or a girl who has learned not to get caught-- she shoves Mizuki straight out the window.

Ami blinks, staring at the place he sat only seconds ago. “Did you just--?”

“Hey, keep it moving,” Kei snaps from behind her. “We don’t got all night, do we? Nanami’s got a date to go on.”

“It’s not a date.” She’s sure of that, certain, but as Kei elbows her way into the room, dropping down to her vanity with an expression that could only be called stern, it comes out much meeker than she‘d managed with Mizuki. “It’s just an old friend--”

“Whatever.” A drawer rattles open, and oh, Nanami had thought her little compact with two shades of blush was the height of luxury, but Kei’s got enough make up to glam up a small country. “You want to look hot or not?”

“Ah...” Nanami blinks. There’s glitter in there. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt...”

Kei’s the kind of girl whose mouth is too sharp for smiles, but a smirk fits her just fine. “That’s what I thought.”

“So what’s the deal?” This is the longest she’s ever seen Kei without her phone, her hands too busy dancing across an absolutely massive palette instead. It’s the sort she’s only seen in store windows to make the big ones look reasonable by comparison. “Should we take pictures of his license plate? Have Ami follow you in disguise?”

“Me?” Ami hiccups, flushed.

“Well, I can’t.” She sniffs, reaching into her vanity for yet another little plastic case. “I’ve got a date too.”

“Ah, no, that’s not--” Nanami imagines Kei flashing a phone in Jirou’s face and can’t decide whether to laugh or grimace-- “he’s a friend, I promise. That’s all.”

“That’s what they want you to think,” Kei warns her sagely, unimpressed. “But guys our age only have one thing on their mind.”

“Oh, well, he’s, er...” It’s impossible to explain that he’s an ageless being that typically sits in a hall outside of time and space. “A little older. So it’s fine.”

“How did you meet?” Ami asks, so sweet-- too bad it’s drowned out by Kei’s, “Does he have a brother? Friends?”

Somehow she doubts that either Kurama-- er, Shinjirou or Jirou would appreciate her spreading around that they were related. Or, well, whatever the tengu had going on, living on Kurama. “Through, er, Tomoe’s family.”

Ami’s eyes round. “Oh.”

“What about that guy anyway?” Kei leans back, her hand guiding Nanami’s chin this way and that, inspecting her work. “I thought you two were, you know...?”

It’s stupid how her eyes tear when she says, “We’re not.”

Kei frowns, grip easing on her jaw. “His loss then. What about this guy? Is he hot? Would it drive Tomoe nuts if you--?”

“Kei-chan,” Ami gasps, hands clapped to her cheeks. “Nanami already said that this was just a friend! There’s nothing for Tomoe-kun to be upset about, and even if there was, Nanami-chan would never!”

It would be nice to be as kind and put together as Ami thought she was. “Right,” she lies. “There’s no way he could complain about me showing our friend around, nope!”

Kei arches one of her perfectly plucked eyebrows, skepticism palpable. “Right. Now what are you going to wear?”

It takes the whole half hour for Kei to lean back, one of those dagger-point grins on her face as she declares, “Oh yeah, he’s going to choke on his own tongue.” 

Considering how she’s the only woman he’s ever met, she doubts that will be a high bar to clear. “This isn’t a date.”

“Okay,” Kei says, unconvinced, which is all she manages before the doorbell chimes, delicate as crystal. “I’ll get it.”

“No!” Nanami catches herself before she can grab her, pushing her mouth into the semblance of a harmless smile. “I mean, he’s my guest! You don’t need to put yourself out.”

A spark flares deep in the morass of Kei’s green eyes, and oh, she has made a mistake, saying the exact thing that would pique her interest. “No, no, let me.”

It’s only five yards to the door, but with both of them on their feet, it becomes a contest of inches, Kei’s sharp elbows fending her off at the same time Nanami tries to catch her ankles with a heel. It’s a tumble, really, one of them making headway before the other draws her back, over and over until Nanami knocks the phone from Kei’s hands into the couch, making a mad dash before the girl can recover.

The door’s open hardly more than a crack, but she calls out, “Jirou!” nonetheless, like she can audibly mark her territory, her smile wide if strained, and when it swings wider--

Oh.

Intellectually, Nanami had known he couldn’t walk around the mortal world in his monk’s robes and beads-- and there’s no way his wings would fit in the subway-- but still, she’s not prepared to see the former fourth Soujoubou of Kurama idling in the hall with jeans. There’s no red dabbed at the corner of his eyes either, no tabi or wings or undefinable magic something-- he’s as mortal as they come, just some guy--

A camera clicks behind her, and she turns just in time to watch Kei pocket her phone, gaping. “This is your not date?”

Oh, that’s right, he’s gorgeous too. Because the spirit world runs on soap opera rules.

“I told you, you didn’t have to take pictures!” Nanami hisses through her smile.

“This isn’t for your thing,” Kei assures her. “This is for personal use. Are you sure he doesn’t have a brother?”

It’s quiet, pitched to stay between them, but she sees Jirou glance back, brow furrowed, before his gaze slides to her. “Nanami,” he says, serious as always. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

All she can do is stand there stupidly, staring at the way his hands flex at his side. Oh no, this is definitely a date.

“Hey,” That knife’s edge of a smirk splits Kei’s lips, one of her hands already outstretched. “I’m Nanami-chan’s--”

“Leaving!” she gasps, surging forward to drag him through the door. “We’re leaving!”

The door slams shut behind them with the force of foxfire, her hair billowing out around her shoulders as it hits the frame. With a smile grit so bright her teeth ache, she chirps, “Well, let’s get this show on the road!”

Only hours ago, there’d been a whole plan for this whole debacle. Not a solid one-- Nanami didn’t really do itineraries, and she doubted Jirou would appreciate being hurried along like a tour group-- but she’d had ideas. Tokyo Tower, maybe, or the Skytree for something more current. The art museums in Roppongi were also an option, though she thought one of the ones down by Ueno Station might be more convenient. Cheaper too, since she doubted the former fourth Soujoubou would be flush with pocket money.

But none of that is Date Material. Not that she wants it to be, it’s just-- Nanami hates to disappoint. If this is going to be Jiro’s single trip to the mortal world, then she really should try to make it special, maybe even go along with--

“I don’t understand,” Jirou huffs, coat shrugged so high it must itch his ears. “It’s a tree.”

It’s a long way down from the gallery to the mall’s lowest floor, but Nanami leans over anyway, wondering whether she could grab one of the snowflakes hanging from the rafters if she just reached out her hand. “I’d think out of anyone, you would understand how important a tree can be.”

“The sacred sakura is the source of Kurama’s life and power.” His lips peel back in a sneer. “This is indoors.”

“It’s a Christmas tree!” The bulky banister digs into her back as she turns, grinning up at him. “Don’t you guys have--?”

Slouched in his wool coat Jirou looks like any other guy walking past, but skepticism pulls his spine straight, putting him head and shoulders above even the tallest passerby. With his arms crossed and face drawn into a forbidding scowl, it hardly matters that he doesn’t have his wings or isn’t dressed in his monk’s robes-- he’s every inch a god.

Or a spirit, or-- ah, whatever tengu are. She’d never been too clear on just who made the cut for kami, and at this point in the game, it’s a little late to ask.

“Ah, right, no, you wouldn’t.” With the way time works on the mountain, Jirou might even predate the concept. “It’s from the West. It’s a night where couples go out, and--”

Her teeth clamp down, biting back the words. What’s wrong with her, mentioning couples’ holidays to the only guy who has ever confessed to her? Especially when she already rejected him for reasons-- reasons that have flitted off to the spirit world, probably to discourage her too, and--

“Are you going to get souvenirs for your brothers?” she asks, breathless.

She braces for him to scoff, to tell her that the once-soujoubou has no need for gifts, but Jirou only blinks. “Souvenirs?”

Ah, right. The tengu never leave the mountain. “When you go somewhere, it’s polite to bring back gifts. Food and stuff! A little slice of the mortal realm for everyone to enjoy.”

Only a few months ago, Jirou’s frown would have been enough to make her back track and tremble, hoping his wrath wouldn’t come down on her the way the gods were so fond of doing, But a week under his wing, so to speak, and now she knows: he’s thinking. “...Polite?”

“C’mon.” She hooks her arm around his. “There’s a store right over there.”

It doesn’t strike her until they’re in front of the novelty chocolates, Jirou standing as still as a deer in headlights, that oh yes, the man from the magical mountain might be paralyzed by choice.

“There’s so many,” he manages, strained. “How do you do this? This whole world is so distracting. It’s a wonder any one of you gets anything done with all this going on.”

Nanami leans a hip against the wall, not bothering to smother her grin. “It’s because we’re getting stuff done that there is all this.”

His mouth rounds. “Oh.”

She plucks a box off the stacks of snacks, a to-scale miniature chocolate Skytree. “Do you think this is why the mortal world corrupts the tengu? I’ve never thought about it, but I suppose we’re spoiled for choice down here. And everything must seem so fast.”

“Maybe.” He approaches the word slowly, lips wrapping around on tip-toe, as if sneaking up on it might make it easier to say. In the end he grimaces anyway, cheeks flushed. “I’ve since realized that the corruption of the mortal realm might have less to do with its vices, and more to do with its, er...”

His dark eyes flick toward her, pink creeping up to his ears before they skitter away. “Taking into account the other prohibition of Kurama, the first Soujoubou might have been more concerned with keeping his brothers from distracting themselves with the, er...mortal women that lived there, rather than any other excess.”

“Oh,” she squeaks, her own face suddenly hot. “Yeah, I guess that would be...”

“I agree.”

Her head snaps up, watching as he delicately picks up a snow globe from the shelf behind him, a small version of Ueno Park painstakingly modeled inside. “We are told that we hatch from beneath the branches of the sacred sakura. I certainly don’t remember anything before my time at Kurama. But for Shinjirou to be the Soujoubou’s son, then that means he must have...”

Jirou’s mouth pulls thin.

“Well, there must be some lady tengu, right?” Nanami can’t recall ever seeing one, but she’d be the first to admit: her sample size is small. “On one of the other mountains, maybe? It’s not like the Soujoubou...”

His steady stare is more answer than she needs, and yet he still tells her. “I heard he was a handsome man, in his younger years.”

“Ah.”

He lifts his shoulder, cheeks burning too bright to be casual. “The last century was a hard one.”

“Right,” she murmurs faintly. “I’ve heard kids will do that to you.”

An hour and three stores later, Jirou finally settles on some wagashi shaped unseasonably into sakura blossoms, sold two in a package, grimacing as Nanami shakes out the shrine box to pay for them.

“Don’t worry,” she tells him, with a smile, “I planned for this!”

He does insist on paying for the lucky cat three stores over, pulling out a stack of bills that certainly aren’t from the spirit world. “It’s for the Soujoubou,” he explains, firm. “It wouldn’t be appropriate to ask you to pay.”

“You’re bringing Manekineko onto a mountain full of birds?” Her mouth twitches as his furrows wearily. “He’ll be one well fed cat!”

“The Soujoubou likes them. Cats, I mean.” He softens as she gazes down at the bag, like he can see the figure even through the glossy paper. “He says they carry their weight keeping the mice out of the kitchen.”

Nanami blinks. “You guys get mice in the spirit world?”

His mouth hooks into a smirk. “ Whether they are made by gods or men, few things have as little respect for boundaries as a mouse.”

“Ah.” She stares down at the bag. “I guess that makes--”

The gloss shimmers as it flies from his hand, knocked back to the pavement. Nanami needs a solid second of blinking for the moment to come into focus: the bag laying on the ground, Manekineko’s box slid half out of it; Jirou standing stock still on the walkway, as if the ground was made of glass and even a breath could make it shatter; a little boy sprawled on the ground at his feet, staring up and up and up, tears already beading on his eyelashes.

“Stupid.” The mountain of a man-- of a god glares down the long slope of his nose, just as remote and aloof as Kurama itself, and Nanami stiffens, her breath caught in the heavy weight of her lungs. Even without his robe, he’s imposing, and the boy on the ground shivers the way Botanmaru used to at the very sound of Jirou’s name. She can’t forget how the little crows had all feared him, how they would flinch at even the gentlest raised hand--

“Here,” Jirou murmurs, crouching as much as a man his height can manage. “Are you hurt? Can you stand?”

“N-no.” The boy blinks, shaking his head. “I mean, yeah. I can...I can get up, I think.”

“Then there is no reason to sit on the ground.” His large hand juts out, just in front of the boy’s face. “Who do you belong--?” Jirou catches himself. “Do you have a guardian nearby? A...parent?”

“Y-yeah.” That small hand folds into Jirou’s, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. He can’t be more than six or seven, too young to be wandering alone, but too old to suffer being stuck to someone’s side. “My m-mom.”

“A mother.” Jirou’s face softens. It does things to her stomach that Nanami refuses to contemplate. “She must worry over you.”

The boy flushes, tucking his face into his shoulder to hide it. “Yeah, I guess. Maybe.”

“Come, then.” With an awkwardness that’s almost endearing, Jirou shifts his grip, holding the boy’s hand so delicately it might as well be made of glass. “Let us see if we can find this woman. Your return will go a long way toward easing her mind.”

The boy’s cheeks blow out, half a pout. “Okay, mister, if you say so.”

It takes only a minute or two to locate his mother, weighed down by a half dozen bags and on her phone, placing a frantic call to the help desk.

“Daisuke!” she gasps, clutching the boy to her, not letting him shake her off. “How many times have I told you to stay close! There’s too many people for you to go running around!”

“I just wanted to check out the Lego store,” he huffs, suffering through her kissing and scolding with belligerent embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to go far. I would have come right back if I hadn’t run into-- er, I mean...”

“Run into?” His mother blinks, and that’s when she notices Jirou, looming awkwardly a few steps away. “Daisuke!” she hisses, manhandling him into a bow. “I’m so sorry that my son inconvenienced you, sir. I promise that we raised him better than to be such a bother.”

“Ah.” One hand raises, soothing. “Please, you don’t have to explain to me. I understand. Young boys often seek out their own adventures.”

“Oh.” The woman’s eyes trail up him, from the thick sole of his boots to the fur trim of his hat-- and when she’s done, she glances over his shoulder, squarely at Nanami, before she asks, “You have children of your own?”

“No, no.” His hands wave between them, a soft denial. “Younger brothers.”

“I see, I see.” Or so she might say, but the gaze she fixes on Nanami is far too speculative, the implication so heavy she can’t help but turn away, flushed. “Go on, apologize for interrupting their night, Daisuke.”

“Sorry,” the boy informs the pavement. “I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Really, it’s no trouble.” Jirou’s voice is always heavy, each word spoken with a palpable weight, but for once--

For once, there’s a laugh bubbling beneath it, too light to be smothered by seriousness, one that sets his lips twitching, a smile haunting the corners of his smirk. Happiness.

It looks nice on him. 

It takes another ten minutes for Daisuke’s mother to be content with her son’s apologies; Jirou’s protests going unmarked with each bow and scrape. Don’t go easy on him, she insists, he needs to learn some manners.

“I think,” Jirou murmurs, humor clinging to the shadows of his words, “that maybe Shinjirou is lucky the Soujoubou did not bring his mother to the mountain. They are fearsome.”

There’s an ache in her chest, an old one, the kind that never fills but simply is grown used to, until it feels natural to never heal. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t remember much about my mom.”

His mouth is already open with his next question, but she can’t stop herself, not when the words are already struggling their way out through her lips. “You’ve changed.”

She glances up at him just in time to catch the way his eyes round and his mouth slackens, a blush blooming across his cheeks that has nothing to do with cold. “What...?” He clears his throat, and once again he’s Jirou, aloof and alone, the strongest tengu on Kurama. “What do you mean?”

“The Jirou I met a few months ago wouldn’t have helped that boy.” Her elbow pokes into his unyielding side. This guy obviously doesn’t skip ab day. Or...whatever day they trained to make what should be love handles into solid steel. “He would have just told him he was weak and a disappointment to his ancestors. He certainly wouldn’t have helped him to his feet, let alone find his mom.”

“That’s...true enough,” he admits, reluctantly. “My mind was always bent toward pleasing the Soujoubou. To living up to his example and becoming the strongest of his sons. I thought that if I became a man he could rely on, if I made the rest of my brothers as strong as me...”

That it would protect him. Or rather, their way of life. He’d explained as much, when they descended into the Thunderbeast’s lair.

He coughs, cold steaming his breath. “All those years, I worried over only the most superficial aspects of being Soujoubou. I neglected to see even the most basic truths, the ones my master had gone to great pains to show me, even as I proved over and over that I did not understand. There is more to strength than the physical. There is more to discipline than denial.”

Nanami hooks a hand around his arm, squeezing it. “It’s good that you did learn it though. It takes a very big person to admit when they were wrong.”

She doesn’t add, especially a god. She’s learned the hard way that you never know when one is listening, especially when their winds are such tattletales.

“It was you that showed me that, Nanami. I allowed my vision to be clouded by pride, and you--” Jirou glances down at her, that stony glaze softening to something almost human-- “you saved me. All of us on Kurama. Our lives have been changed by your touch, and I, for one, will never forget what we owe you.”

“O-oh.” The way he looks at her, it’s so-- so intimate, the way she catches Tomoe looking at her in the breath before he turns away. The way she wishes he would without needing to hide it. That someone would, without acting it was some great sufferance, a lowering of their standards.

And here Jirou is, giving it to her for free, no strings attached. In a way that makes her want to turn toward it, the way flowers do for the sun, unfurling her petals to bask in its glow--

It’s too much.

“Oh, is that, um--” her eyes dart over the street, trying to find something to hold onto, some flotsam in the storm of these feelings-- and she finds it. “Ice skating?”

Jirou blinks. “Excuse me?”

“Come on.” She hooks her arm through his, dragging him toward the stop light, eye fixed on where the crowd presses around Ueno’s plaza. “Let’s go.”

[irish-urn]

Dasey on Broadway (Mixer’s Commentary)

Look out y’all, this is long. I’m serious: I’m putting it under a cut because it is 2700 words long.

Proud of Your Boy — Derek (duh)

It’s sung to his missing mom; because I am kinda low-key fascinated by their relationship (and because I think @dustinswill nailed it when they wrote: “George loves him but he doesn’t like him”)

“So say I’m slow for my age, a late bloomer, okay I agree…” Derek is fully aware that people think he’s stupid; he’s charming but he’s stupid and slow (which is amazing when you consider he’s probably born in late November…)

“Say I’m a goldbrick, a goof-off, no good; But that couldn’t be all that I am.” — because Derek IS amazing and he KNOWS he’s amazing, just… not in the ways that his parents want him to be.

“I’ll do my best, what else can I do? Since I wasn’t born perfect like Dad or you” — and here’s the kicker, because his parents are SO FLAWED and SO WRONG, but they’re still somehow still better than he is. Isn’t that the worst? He can’t even measure up to the most flawed people he’s ever met.

Everything Else — Casey (duh)

It’s honestly more the vibe than any particular lines, but it’s about Casey’s ache to get out, to succeed, to put on a performance so people don’t see her anxiety and pressures.

“You play ‘till it’s perfect, you play ‘till you ache; you play ‘till the strings or your fingernails break.” — You try and you try and you try and you try until you actually have nothing else to give.

I Never Planned On You / Don’t Come A’Knocking On My Door — Derek

LOOK. Derek didn’t want to be absolutely fascinated by Casey, okay? He still doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but he knows about attraction and curiosity; and he took one look at this girl with the retainer and the private schoolgirl outfit, and was hooked; which doesn’t make any sense!!! Because girls are fun, but nothing like this?!?!

“You are the most impossible boy — Shhh! — ever!” is the most Dasey-like interaction.

What is This Feeling? — DUET TIME

I don’t think I need to explain this. Because it’s SO THEM in early season 1. Especially when the way they’re feeling could easily be taken as extreme sexual tension. XD

“There’s a strange exhilaration in such total detestation: it’s so pure and so strong! Though I do admit it came on fast, still I do believe that it can last; And I will be loathing, loathing you my whole life long!”

Ladies’ Choice —Derek!!!

HE’S GOD’S GIFT TO THE WORLD, OKAY???? Which is fun, because that first song is about how he doesn’t think he measures up, but Derek is a mess of paradoxes and I love him so.

(He’s also a romantic, as we can see by the fact that the song ends with him wanting a relationship and love and family.)

Breathe — Casey

“It’s me: the biggest disappointment you know.” Basically the idea that Casey has all these expectations placed upon her and she doesn’t know if she can measure up to them; she’s gotta be enough for both parents and her grandmother, and now this whole other family and this new school; and I kinda pinpoint around the whole grade grubbing episode if we’re being honest, but it does linger for years and years.

Anything You Can Do — DUET TIME

I really don’t think I need to explain this either, except for how I LOVE that at the end, the guy yields to her talents, the same way Derek is always admitting defeat when Casey does beat him. It’s a game, alright?

A Guy That I’d Kinda Be Into — Casey

SO! This song is all about how the guy is SURE the girl is talking about having a crush on him, and then she says it’s this other guy. A couple of things about this song is:

(1) there is quite an argument that could be made about how Casey gets clumsy when she’s around DEREK and not Sam; and

(2) although Casey has no reason to trust Derek at this point or even confess anything about anything to him, “I guess a part of me wants to; I guess a part of me likes to talk to you; sit with you; hang with you…” Which… yeah! For all that Casey usually wants to strangle Derek, a part of her still wants to be his friend.

Dancing Through Life — Derek

NOT ONLY is this 15/16-year-old Derek’s philosophy on life — “No need to tough it when you can sluff it off as I do; Those who don’t try, never look foolish.” — but also the start of his and Kendra’s relationship, i.e.: “You’re perfect / You’re perfect / So we’re perfect together.” Because I do sincerely think that a good chunk of their relationship was based on popularity as opposed to genuine feelings.

When He Sees Me — Casey

SO! There’s a part of Casey that feels this way about dating: what if when he sees me, he doesn’t like me? “What if I give myself away only to get it given back?” Should I change a part of me to be more like what he would like? “I’m not defensive! I’m only being cautious.”

And what if when he does see me, the real me, he DOES like me? Damn, that’s even scarier… “Or even worse, he could be very nice, have lovely eyes, and make me laugh… Come out of hiding… What do I do with that?”

This, I think is about Scott AND Max, but mostly Max (and maybe even a bit of Derek): “If when he holds me, my heart is set in motion; I’m not prepared for that, I’m scared of breaking open.”

I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Face — Derek

Something There — DUET TIME (but mostly Casey)

POOR DEREK. A combination of him actually realizing he has FEELINGS; starts off with Scott — “Damn, damn, damn, damn! I’ve grown accustomed to her face.” — and goes around to Max: “What a heartless, wicked, brainless thing to do. But she’ll regret it.” — It’s full of jealousy and hating what he’s feeling and trying to shake it off, because it can’t mean much, it must just be a small thing, BUT “I’m so used to hear her say, ‘Good morning’ every day.” But it’s okay, because “she’s a woman, and so easy to forget, rather like a habit one can always break— and yet.”

Casey realizing there’s something more to Derek, around the time he calls Dennis back for her and stands up at Smelly Nelly’s for her…

“There’s something sweet and almost kind; but he was mean and he was coarse and unrefined…”

“New… and a bit alarming; who’d have ever thought that this could be? True, that he’s no Prince Charming; but there’s something in him that I simply didn’t see…”

ALSO Derek: “No, it can’t be. I’ll just ignore… But then she’s never looked at me that way before.”

Fight for Me — Derek (XD)

BULLY BROTHERS!!!

“Could you face the crowd? Could you be seen with me and still act proud?”

“But I would fight for you if you would fight for me.” BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT THEY DO!!! THEY STAND UP FOR EACH OTHER!! THEY FIGHT FOR ONE ANOTHER!!

Also, also: “You can set my broken bones; and I know CPR.” Hey Case? Wanna make out?

ALSO ALSO: “Wow. You can punch real good. You lasted longer than I thought you would.” — CASEY PACKS A PUNCH!!! AND THESE FEELINGS HAVE LASTED A LOT LONGER THAN HE THOUGHT THEY WOULD!!!

Suddenly Seymour — DUET TIME

Post Truman’s Last Chance. Derek taking care of Casey.

“I’d meet a man and I’d follow him blindly.” AND “Seymour’s my friend.”

…which is the end of canon LWD and into…

I Won’t Say (I’m in Love) — Casey

A combination of “same difference” and what I imagine Casey would be going through.

“If there’s a prize for rotten judgment, I guess I’ve already won that.”

“No chance, no way, I won’t say it, no no.”

I Don’t Know How to Love Him — Casey

So THEN we get into Queen’s, and Casey is developing feelings and having a harder time denying them.

“He’s just a man.” Like: what is so special about Derek???? He’s just some guy???? He’s not actually that impressive; and Casey has had boyfriends, alright; they’re not that amazing.

But: “He scares me so.”

“If he said he loved me, I’d be lost, I’d be frightened.” — because Casey REMEMBERS ‘same difference’, and Derek and her are finally circling around this thing, but she’s not ready, she’s terrified.

If I Loved You — DUET TIME

And now both of them are circling around these feelings (I’m thinking second year of Queen’s?), and both are aware that the other has feelings but it’s scary and they’re kind of in denial and they’re not ready to admit it, but if they say it then it’s real, and...

Rewrite the Stars — DUET TIME

SO DEREK MAKES A MOVE. “It’s up to you and it’s up to me; no one can say what we get to be.”

…And Casey says no: “You know I want you; it’s not a secret I try to hide. But I can’t have you; we’re bound to break and my hands are tied.”

Satisfied — Casey

WHICH LEADS US TO THIS, where both Derek and Casey try to date other people for the rest of the time they’re at Queen’s. I imagine Casey sets him up with someone from the Dance Team or some charity she’s involved with; and she goes on dates with various guys. But neither are really happy because they can’t really give each other up — “At least I keep his eyes in my life.” — and it’s really not fair to the other parties, no matter how hard they try. Because: “He will never be satisfied; I will never be satisfied.”

You Must Love Me — Casey

SO: after a couple of years of this, I’m imaging Derek graduates and is living in Toronto: he bartends, he helps out his contacts with odd jobs, and he’s trying to get into the film industry with limited success (but he hasn’t given up yet); and Casey gets into a couple of different law schools. She does a semester in Montreal, but ends up transferring to Toronto and tracking down Derek because she misses him and, well…

“Where do we go from here? This isn’t where we intended to be.”

“Why are you at my side? How can I be of any use to you now? Give me a chance and I’ll let you see how nothing has changed.”

And finally… “You must love me.” Now that I’m finally admitting you, you must still love me.

First Date / Last Night — DUET TIME

SO THEY GO ON A DATE and it starts off awkward and bad because Casey is hopeful and scared and Derek is kinda still hurt and uncertain, because she said no before and what makes it different now? “Why the hell are you still here?”

And they can’t match up and it’s not great; “Don’t expect too much, just walk.”

But then, at the end, Casey makes a joke and he laughs and responds, and she’s laughing too; and they knock shoulders or kick at an ankle, and suddenly everything starts flowing…

Bad Idea — DUET TIME

AND THEN THE MORNING AFTER. Because it’s one thing to think it MIGHT be good, and another thing altogether to realize it IS good. And shit, this is a really bad idea, because of so many reasons; but damn Derek is good with his hands, and Casey is hot and a really good kisser, but “Let’s face it, making mistakes like this will make worse what was already pretty bad.” Because life is hard and Derek is struggling to get into film and Casey is drowning in law school, and it was already complicated and now there’s this; BUT IT'S SO GOOD??? and “no reason to throw it away when there’s love to be had.”

And finally, surrendering, “Hold me tight as I tell myself that you might make sense and make good what has been just so bad…”

Waterloo — DUET TIME

So they’re not really labeling it for a while until, well, one day they do. It’s real, it’s big, and it’s inevitable, “knowing my fate is to be with you.”

As Long As You’re Mine — DUET TIME

I dunno if this needs an explanation; like, “My wildest dreamings could not foresee lying beside you with you wanting me;” and “Say there’s no future for us as a pair; and though, I may know I don’t care.”

We Kiss in a Shadow — DUET TIME

They sneak around for quite a while. I always imagined that if they got together as older adults, like 24+, they would actually hide the relationship LONGER than if they were in university because it would be much easier TO hide it. In university, they have to go back to London for long periods of time: breaks and summer semesters. But as post-grads and living in their own city, their trips back would be a weekend here or there, and probably far more focused on spending time with Simon and Marti than anything else. So they have a secret relationship for a while, all the while wanting to come out…

“Alone in our secret, together we sigh, for one smiling day to be free.”

Take Me or Leave Me — DUET TIME

(last year, someone told me this was a Dasey song, and I haven’t gotten it out of my brain since)

So Derek asks if they can come out. “A tiger in a cage can never see the sun; this diva needs her stage.”

Casey says no, not yet: “I look before I leap; I love margins and discipline.”

So they fight, arguing (honestly, the list of Joanne’s flaws is the most Dasey thing ever), until finally:

“Guess I’m leaving; I’m gone.”

Seventeen — DUET TIME

…I don’t think it takes very long for Casey to come back and apologize. A few days? A week maximum? And even though they’re not 17 anymore (more like 25…), the concept is still the same: Why does this have to be so dramatic? Can’t it be simple? “Don’t you want a life with me?”

“Yeah, we’re damaged / badly damaged / But your love’s too good to lose.”

“I’ll stay if I’m what you choose.” I’ll come out and fight by your side. Let’s do this.

Kristoff Lullaby — Derek

…This is Derek admitting he’s in love. It’s just… So lovely. “You’re what I know about love.”

I’m in Love with a Wonderful Guy — Casey

CASEY IS SO HAPPY??? “Love is a grand and a beautiful thing.” / “I’m as trite and as a gay as a daisy in May; a cliché coming true.”

Moving Too Fast — Derek

And then Derek gets some kind of grant for a film project he actually gets to direct and “I’m feeling panicked and rushed and hurried; I’m feeling outmaneuvered and outclassed. But I’m so happy I can’t get worried—” and yeah, a lot of things are happening: him and Casey are moving in together, they’re in love, Casey is happy; and now this grant and he’s so happy and it’s all very fast—

Something Wonderful — Casey

…And he does something stupid. I don’t know what; maybe he misses a date because of the film thing? But then he makes it up to her, and:

“This is a man you’ll forgive and forgive and help and protect as long as you live…”

It’s just. The most Dasey song and it HURTS to listen to.

If Ever I Would Leave You — Casey

Look, Casey sings this to Derek, I don’t make the rules. Maybe something happens; he doesn’t get the grant the next year, or Casey gets a job offering for another city; and she has to reassure him:

“No never could I leave you at all.”

The Best Thing That Ever Has Happened to Me — DUET TIME

AND THEN THEY’RE JUST HAPPY!!! I just love this song; they’re so happy and healthy and flirty and grown up…

“We might just be the best thing that has happened to us…”

I Love You Like a Table — DUET TIME

Look: Casey is the one reciting bad poetry (imagine, if you will, her draping her leg over a table, and singing, “My legs were carved for you” while running her hands over her very shapely legs, while Derek glares at her because that’s not FAIR, Casey!!) and Derek is the only who wanted to surprise her and has only managed to come up with a drum line (it’s a lot, but then again: the way he feels for her is a lot).

[oraclekleo]

I want to preface this message by saying that I accidentally sent this WHOLE THING to ANOTHER READER I DON’T EVEN FOLLOW and now I’m mortified 💀 For some reason I thought of taking a screenshot of what I wrote and I’m extremely grateful to past me bc I would’ve thrown myself out of the window if I had to type it again 🌚

…

Ok Kleo, it's finally time for the compatibility game feedback I'm so sorry for taking so long 😭 you posted it right before uni started and then I got sucked down the school and work waterslide and kinda procrastinated it🥺

As I told you the other day, when you posted about not getting a lot of feedback and reblogs, I feel kinda "morally ambiguous" about mature-themed celebrity content, just because I think I'd feel weird if I found random sexual content about me online, posted publicly (especially if it was very different from who I really am), but I don't want to be a hypocrite because I did ask you for this reading myself 😬

So... All in all, I think you're quite respectful with the way you conduct and write your readings. I get a more "for research purposes" vibe from them, as opposed to what I've seen in other blogs I've come across, that are outright objectifying and disrespectful in my opinion. So I guess I do feel comfortable with your content? This is just me trying to take a moral stance, so l'm not trying to "give my approval" or anything. I'm just a person who thinks things through a lot Imao

Now about the reading itself...

Right off the bat you had me laughing because what do you mean you "didn't intend for the reading to be very 18+ but it turned out that way"?? 💀😭

Like was it me? Is that bad?? I'm sorry??? 🙃

The second thing that caught my eye were the cards themselves... I think I've told you before, you have so many interesting, beautiful decks and I love how they (in my opinion, at least), give the readings such a diverse, particular vibe. Is it hard to work with many different decks? Energy-wise I mean...

I think, for the most part, your reading actually resonated? (Is it weird to say it resonates if it's a hypothetical reading about my interactions with a person I don't know personally? 😂)

I remember reading a while ago that Yeonjun could be an Aries rising, so if I compare what you said with the Astro synastry between us, it does totally check out! And our charts would be super similar too, since l'm also a Virgo sun with Aries rising

Power couple? My Jupiter would be on his MC, and his Jupiter on my 2H. We both have libra mercuries and our Vertex are conjunct, so... I smell ✨success✨

Deep soul exploration? Based on my only, but tee long relationship, I know I crave that deep emotional intimacy, getting to know each other's darkest bits and learning to love them, and all that dramatic shit Imao. He has a Scorpio moon that would be in my 8H, his Chiron conjunct my Pluto in his 8H and our suns are conjunct too, so yeah I could see the vision.

Do I see him being devoted and submissive? Yes, but personally I think it would be more of an "equivalent exchange" in this personal dynamic, where we'd both be equally devoted and submissive to each other. I see him listening to me a lot, because I'm on the mature, rational side and he gives me "mommy issues” vibes, but I'd honestly wear myself to the bone to make my loved ones happy, so there's that lol

Astrologically speaking, I have my moon, Venus and mars in Leo 5H, and he has Leo Venus 5H too so that would "confirm" the love language and relationship dynamics, but also hints to a lot of attraction, which relates to the sexual chemistry bit of your reading.

I can say you nailed the neck and voice thing for sure, at least on my side... My neck is definitely one of my weak spots, and I like guys being "vocal" so much you can't imagine 😩 12/10 for sure

Also foreplay is key for me, so much that I can't even think of it as "fore"play, it's an essential part of the whole thing, not just the appetizer..

Now, as of now I can't really see myself being dominant enough to enjoy restraining a guy per se, but l'lI like it if I know he likes it, and even more if i know he'll "get back" to me later lol like that would be the end goal maybe?

To summarize, it was very interesting to read, like I'm amazed at how you can get information like that from the cards! And it was damn accurate too.

Again, sorry for taking so long but you've probably realized by now that I tend to write A LOT so sometimes I feel overwhelmed when thinking of writing feedback because I know it will take me a while to write the whole thing

(Also if you think it's just TOO long please tell me so I can try to make it shorter next time 😂)

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR DOING THIS READING FOR ME (and all the other reading as well)… You’re really talented, and definitely have a gift for tarot 🥹

Bye!🥰

Hello!

Don't worry at all. As I said, I don't care about time, I'm always happy to receive feedback. 💖💖💖

Honestly, I don't understand the fuss with NSFW tarot readings. Do people have the same issues with smut fics? Because it's basically the same. Only in tarot readings you base your fantasy on what you interpret from the cards but it's still a work of fiction. Tarot isn't a science. What's written in tarot readings aren't objective facts, they are notions, impressions and interpretations.

Also, I do these readings about celebrities because they have public status. When you become a celebrity you deliberately give a large portion of your privacy up. Not all of it, but much more than a regular non-celeb person. This is not violating their privacy. Fanfics also don't violate their privacy. These are merely fantasies shared. If you are dellusional and want to take these works of fiction as a fact, you will do so no matter whether it's NSFW or not and it's harmful and the only solution is to educate the delusional person not to censor free speech and creative content.

I know it's difficule to take moral stand here but this is how I see it and people are free to disagree with me and even unfollow me if they wish so.

But to like and read a NSFW content but be ashamed for liking it is a road to hell. And it's weak and pretentious. I know it might sound unfair but a mentally healthy and mature person does not feel ashamed for what they like as long as it doesn't break the law. That's my personal opinion here and it might be a bit too strong for more sensitive individuals but once they grow up they will learn. 😊

As for your actual feedback, I'm not big on astrology so... I assume you studied it well and I take your word for it 😂

I like to use very diverse decks of cards because human nature is very diverse, too. Most people aren't just one dimensional characters. It's not difficult for me to read the different energy of the cards as I have picked them myself, I had a reason to do so, I followed my intuition. I have a connection with my decks and I acknowledge and cherish the fact that each one of them has a different 'personality'.

I have mentioned it before that even when it does sound like it resonates, the tarot readings are basically works of fiction as they are not based in research or hard facts but they are based in personal interpretations of symbolics. I think it's the basic mistake many people make, that they take tarot readings as facts. It's not like that. But people tend to follow patterns and if I hit the right pattern in the reading it will sound to you like it resonates with you. Tarot is NOT magic. My intuition picks information about you from your feedbacks and other interactions with me and the cards only help me to give sense to all those random pieces of information in my brain. It's not witchcraft, it's psychoanalysis. I understand why many people get confused here, though 😂

Once again, no need to apologize, I understand that life gets in the way and everyone needs time to think things through, especially to respond in such a detail 😀

I love your long feedbacks. You don't have to cut them short for me. 😂

Thank you so much for taking time to give your opinion on the reading! It means a lot to me 💖💖💖💖

Kleo 🦄