#it's still the most satisfying complete series arc for me in recent years

[sleepynegress]

Everything about this... I scream.

I think this is the first Indigenous vampire I've ever seen?!

They made Olrox Indigenous and he's voiced by Zahn McClarnon, whom I adore:

Elizabeth Bathory (voice by Franka Potente) is a vampire up in this bitch?! (but of course) The animation is top-tier... giving me all drama and delicious beautiful violence I need... And baby, Annette is voiced by Thuso Mbedu?! I am. shaking. NETFLIX PAY YOUR ANIMATORS, WRITERS, AND VOICE ACTORS!!!

[dazais-guardian-angel]

Chapter 110 is 13 pages long welcome to hell!!! so in a lot of ways this is just more fuel for a theory that I've had for a few weeks now, that's only gotten stronger with each recent season 5 episode, which is that the last episode of the season is gonna end on 110, and that Asagiri/Harukawa and Bones have been collaborating to make this happen, specifically because it's a major turning point that would be the only good place to end the season on.

When we started getting especially long chapters again (like from 25-35ish pages, with the exception of 107.5, the last two being some of the longest we've ever had), at first I just assumed that Asagiri/Harukawa got freed up from some other obligations they'd been having to cause the extremely short/half chapters, like promotional stuff for the anime/Beast movie, or working on light novels. But then 109 happened, with the "supposed" death of Dazai, and heavy emphasis at the end on how literally everyone is at their lowest point right now, and I got to thinking. 11 episodes is a strangely specific number for an anime season -- why not 12, or 13, or even 10, like you'd usually see? Why have we gotten suddenly gotten two 35 page chapters out of nowhere, that's almost unheard of at this point? They're both beautiful chapters, don't get me wrong (as always), and maybe A/H simply just didn't want to cut them in halves because they felt like the full emotional impact wouldn't hit/that there were no good cutoff points in them, but you can't deny that it's surprising, after all the shorter chapters we've been getting. Why has the anime been going at such insanely breakneck pacing for the most part ever since around the Sunday Tragedy chapters, even more so than it has in the past? So much so that it feels dangerously close to overtaking the manga?

Well, maybe, just maybe, it's because..... Asagiri decided a long time ago that whatever happens in 110 is the only point that feels "season finale"-worthy enough, in an arc that still isn't anywhere close to being completely wrapped up, and so both the manga and the anime have been specifically coordinated to reach that part within 2 and a half weeks of each other?

I've seen a lot of people now think season 5 will end with 109, and as much as my sadistic side would find that hilarious, I honestly don't think they'd do that and realistically don't want it to happen; it'd be so cruel to cliffhanger the anime for years like that, and just doesn't feel like a season cliffhanger BSD would do, a series that is ultimately hopeful and uplifting. Seasons 2 and 3 had a positive, conclusive ending; the only reasons seasons 1 and 4 didn't was because they're technically not really full seasons of their own, and are more like the first cour of another "season" that also came out that same year (seasons 1 and 2 both aired in 2016, so they're more like one big season, and seasons 4 and 5 have both aired this year, so they're also more like one big season, again taking into account how episodes 12 and 50 are not satisfying finales like episodes 24, 37, and hypothetically, 61, are). I really can't see season 5 ending with Dazai and Fukuzawa's supposed deaths, Sigma being unconscious and maybe close to death, Atsushi being vulnerable and limbless again, everyone we love still vampires, and the entire world being basically doomed; that's just too depressing and not like BSD at all. However, having said that, if it doesn't end there, there really isn't any good place to end the season before that, either, that feels in any way satisfying or like a finale at all. And so, to me, that only leaves after 109: chapter 110.

I think things are really gonna turn around next chapter. Like I said, everyone is at their lowest point right now, it cannot possibly get any worse, the framing of Dazai, Fukuzawa, and sskk at the end of 109 is telling us that; this is the time for the heroes to finally start winning again, with Aya being so close to pulling out the sword, and for all the thematic reasons other people have talked about to death that I don't need to go into here again. This upcoming chapter being so short again makes a part of me wary of 110 being "the one", so to speak, I won't lie, but at the same time, it's very possible that it needs to be that short because that's all the final episode of the season will be able to reasonably fit in, since it's already gonna be VERY close if they do make it all the way to 109. And at the end of the day, I don't doubt at all that Asagiri and Harukawa can make these the most monumental and game-changing mere 13 pages ever if they wanted to; a chapter does not at all need to be extremely long in order to be an important and impactful one, even if short ones we've gotten in the past haven't felt the most important.

An additional thought I've had, though this is much more crack territory than all this already is, is that since we know from Anime Expo that a Stormbringer movie at some point is highly likely (judging from Asagiri's reaction when someone brought it up), it's possible that chapter 110 and thus the final episode will involve the long-anticipated return of Verlaine and/or Adam, or at least some other major reference to Stormbringer, that would naturally and smoothly lead into a Stormbringer movie to explain things to people who haven't read the novel. It would make a lot of sense, especially since the s4 OP has the Old World sign behind Chuuya, which might be a hint that this has been in the works ever since seasons 4/5 were first in planning with Asagiri. We also know that Dazai and Chuuya's voice actors apparently struggled to record their lines together this season, which probably relates to 101 and possibly 109, but it could be 110 too.... I could be very wrong, as I'm no expert on this kind of thing, but I kinda doubt they would bring Chuuya's actor in for just the vampire growls, and Asagiri placing heavy emphasis on Chuuya's importance this season in that one interview gives me the impression that he's talking about much more than just 101/109. But that's the least solid evidence I have, that's just mostly based on vibes I get.

So basically, I think a lot of factors -- the unusual episode count, how close the anime is to catching up to the manga with three whole episodes left, the seemingly arbitrary recent chapter lengths, and the climactic events of 109 -- can tell us that 110 might be a very, VERY big deal. Again, there's of course no way this arc is anywhere near close to being finished, with so much left to address and resolve, but since it is currently incomplete in the manga, unlike the previously adapted arcs, if the anime was going to adapt it at all, they'd have to find a place that feels satisfying enough to end this season, knowing there won't be more anime for a long time after this, and so I think they specifically planned for that, from both Bones' and A/H's sides. 10 episodes might not have been enough to reach that point, but 12 or 13 might have been too many it wouldn't have been if Bones actually decided to slow down and let the story breathe the way it needs to, but this post isn't meant to criticize the anime, so maybe 11 was just right. And maybe Asagiri and Harukawa specifically pushed to make recent chapters longer than usual, in order to make sure that the manga reached the story content in 110 the monthly release right before season 5 was to end.

Is this just copium? Absolutely. Am I going to look like an absolute clown in two days when this post ages like milk? Probably. But the evidence is There, so let me just enjoy my delusions until Sunday, okay 🥂🫡

[muqingapologist]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks...

this is such a hard question because i’ve gone through so many phases of obsessing over pieces of media in my life, and sometimes it’s really hard for me to parse which characters are lasting favorites and which are just part of that phase. but i’ll try! keep in mind, lots of sentimentality ahead…

and this is in no particular order.

1. wei wuxian (the untamed)

ok so this kind of goes along with a previous post i made discussing my feelings of the mdzs book vs. the untamed. when i first watched the untamed at the recommendation of a friend, it was so unlike anything i’d ever seen before. and wei wuxian was so unlike any protagonist i’d ever encountered before. his determination to do what’s right no matter what others do, but also not being above experiencing doubt and uncertainty about his decisions, really touched me. also of course his carefree attitude toward life is something i repeatedly try and fail to achieve myself. it might also have to do with xiao zhan’s acting choices, but he really touched me as a character. it’s hard for me to say if the wwx of the book did the same organically because i read it over a long period of time after watching the show, so im just going to count the untamed version.

2. shizuku tsukishima (whisper of the heart)

this one is probably pretty niche but allow me to give my most heartfelt recommendation of whisper of the heart, my favorite ghibli movie and one of my favorite films of all time. shizuku is the protagonist of the film. she’s a young girl, probably about 14, and so far, her life has been defined by satisfying her imagination by always reading fiction, immersing herself in stories. inspired by the love interest of the film seiji, she decides she wants to try to be a writer. the film is kind of like a slice of life over a few months of this time, and we see shizuku struggle with perfectionism and wanting to follow her dreams and inability to take criticism, etc. i rarely cry over movies but i cried at this one because i had just never felt so seen by a character. everyone please watch whisper of the heart!🙏

3. prince zuko (avatar: the last airbender)

i think 50% of the reason he’s on here is sentimentality since avatar was a show i watched so much throughout my childhood and of course again more recently with its resurgence in popularity, but also what can i say? his character arc is unmatched. i won’t rehash the details. i will say uncle iroh would probably be here instead if we knew any more about his past because he’s off-screen journey is just so fascinating to me.

4. percy jackson (percy jackson & the 12 olympians)

PURE sentimentality but ya know….also im only considering this character how he exists in the original series. he kind of lost me in heroes of olympus. but yeah percy jackson was the first character that really impacted me back when i was 9, and i think i still carry that impact to this day. i also think the original series still holds up reading it as an adult.

5. kim wexler (better call saul)

kim nation!!! reveal yourselves!! i watched better call saul a little over a year ago and damn, it’s so rare to find such interesting, well-developed, flawed within reason female characters in a tv drama like this. her intelligence and her tendency to get carried away with jimmy don’t contradict each other but work together. her emotional journey….UGH!! kim x post-prison jimmy, who else hopes?

6. xie lian (tgcf/heaven official’s blessing)

so this one is new and i’m not completely sure the deep impression will last yet, but i’ll explain. when i first read tgcf about two years ago, i kind of skimmed because it was so long, and the feelings i had toward xie lian were…not super favorable. i was kind of bored by him and….i saw him as a lesser wei wuxian. AND I WAS WRONG!!! because i reread tgcf finally a couple of months ago, no skimming, really thinking about what i was reading and now i love him. his journey from optimistic prince who had never before suffered to carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders to nearly collapsing under that weight but despite all odds, pulling through and once again finding that optimism, or at least hope. it touched me so much this time around!!! also i don’t know why i thought he was boring first time around. this guy is funny as hell! anyway, lots of lessons to apply to my own life and whatnot.

7. ninth doctor (doctor who)

guys….hear me out. notice im not saying “the doctor” because i think most of doctor who is just nonsense. but that one season with the ninth doctor (and okay i like the tenth doctor’s seasons well enough, or i did really love them. less so these days…). so much potential. so when i say he’s one of my favorite characters ever, i accept that it’s mostly the version of the doctor that lives in my head and isn’t subject to the bad writing decisions made later in the show. it’s a lot of sentimentality, but i am really fascinated by this traumatized alien guy who just lost his entire people, finding himself devolving into more violent, unforgiving tendencies, but meeting rose, jack, whoever else along the way is able to remind him of not who he was but who he could be. of course doctor who is forever ongoing though so character development can only go too far lol.

8. nozue (old-fashioned cupcake)

this is also brand new so not sure if lasting because i only just read and watched ofc, but man. this guy’s journey from being defeatist about getting older and turning 40, being afraid of trying anything new, to allowing himself to experience new things, one of those things being falling in love! his whole concept of using regret as fuel for happiness, transmitting that idea to togawa who transmits it back to nozue later!! ahhh!! so like my love for this character might actually just be love for the entire story but i can’t not mention it every five seconds rn so….

9. isabel archer (portrait of a lady)

so this is the protagonist of henry james’s portrait of a lady, which i finally finished reading last month. and gosh! well the book itself was amazing, but i was especially touched by isabel’s character, mainly because she just felt so realistic. her motivations, her goals, her shift, her sorrows, they all feel earned, creating an incredibly vivid character that i think most people can find something in there to relate to, especially other women who have always been told they are clever and imaginative and yet find themselves struggling internally to live up to those expectations.

10. natasha rostova (war and peace)

it’s been years since i read war and peace in my university freshman seminar, so it’s hard for me to speak on the details of why exactly this character is here. but also it’s no surprise because this is a character that continues to be the star of russian literature. what i can say, she’s another bright, carefree character (clearly symbolizing aspects of russian culture but even beyond that) who it’s impossible not to feel deeply connected to. she goes through some pretty life-altering stuff in war and peace (everyone listen to the musical called natasha, pierre, and the great comet of 1812 for those details!!) and as the reader, you just really feel for her. idk man she still stands out in my mind, but also this is also much thanks to the musical i just mentioned above.

i kind of came up with these on the spot so like…who knows how accurate this is, but i like to talk about the things i like so sue me. thank you for the question though!!

[alesseia]

make me write: poll!!

jumping on the poll bandwagon because I have not touched Scrivener in FOREVER (read: two weeks)

unfortunately, I do not have multiple stories like most people on Writeblr since I keep fixating on the same story and its characters, lmao, so IDK if I can do the same thing everyone else is doing

HOWEVER, I will be taking my thesis in BFA Creative Writing this year and I am going to do doing something based on my main story! I was planning on finishing Book 1 (which I already have 4 chapters for), but my thesis adviser is heavily discouraging I do a full novel (minimum requirement for word count is only 15k and we're supposed to finish writing that with revisions by early December) so I've got a bunch of backup plans just in case I can't convince her!!

so here's a poll + bonus read more for further description of thesis ideas!!

Book 1 (Excerpt)

This is actually the option my adviser recommended the most. I have already written the first four chapters, even doing major revisions, and that already hit the 15k minimum word count, so she said that just revising these chapters would be the easiest option.

My biggest gripe with this is that I don't want to end it after Chapter 4. It ends on a mediocre cliffhanger, and we don't meet the other two main characters until later on. Not to mention, the BFA CW majors in my university get to (independently) publish and sell copies of their thesis at the end of the year, so it would be much more satisfying if I do the full Book 1.

Anthology: Thematic

I was thinking I could do instead a thematic short story collection linking the common traits of the main characters (Axel, Avery, Leandro, and Nathan). Each of the short stories would focus on a different MC's backstory. The central theme would be their loneliness.

The stories are (without giving away certain plot twists in Book 1):

AXEL: a story about a group of friends playing together, which turns out to be a product of Axel’s imagination

AVERY: the story behind the fallout with her ex-friends

LEANDRO: Leandro talking to his family about getting friends while figuring out he's a trans guy

NATHAN: Nathan talking to other children working under his drug pimp spirit stain dealer

Anthology: Characterization

This one was inspired by fanfiction, specifically the concept of the same characters in alternate universes. How can you tell the character is still the same character when they have a completely different backstory and setting? Up to where do you draw the lines?

The various settings are:

Historical — Pride and Prejudice but set in the late Spanish colonial period and from the POV of Elizabeth’s (Avery) best friend (Axel)

Sci-fi time travel — From 2099 CE, Axel is asked to travel to 2013 Metro Manila to chase after a time-traveling criminal (Raven)

Urban fantasy (Aswangs) — Axel the friendly manananggal helping their friend Leandro, who recently discovered they’re a manananggal

Modern real-life — Axel signing up their friend Nathan on a blind date auction during high school fair season

Alesseia (Original) — Axel discussing how to beat Rex with all of their friends

Anthology: Timeline

A short story collection featuring the same character, likely Axel, at different points in the series. The series is divided into three arcs, so it would likely be:

Before Arc 1

Between Arcs 1 and 2

Between Arcs 2 and 3

After Arc 3

The Actual Book 1

The actual book 1 of Alesseia. Tentatively titled the Dragon's Deed. I really, really, REALLY want this, but like. it's gonna be what, 50k words 😭 so unless I pull a NaNoWriMo again, I can't blame Ma'am

Anyway if you read all that, thank you SO much!!! I really appreciate your support 😄 wishing you the best of luck with writing as well!!

[animehouse-moe]

D-Frag! : Near Limitless Fun

Yes, this is an old series. Yes, it can be hard to find physically because of that. And yes, it is fun as all hell. I recently managed to get my hands on all but 3 volumes of the series so I've done a re-read from scratch on it, and it really is just incredibly hilarious. It can be a little formulaic with the whole straight man routine, but it gets both incredibly meta and off the rails with it. I mean, the sheer amount of jokes that they break out in relation to it always keeps it fresh. Getting tired of Kazama making comebacks? There's probably a joke or a remix on the horizon for it. And personally speaking it always gets me, whether it's one volume in or 16 volumes in.

Anyways, let me backtrack a little. What is D-Frag! ? Well. Well.... It's a high school comedy taken the max of what can be weird, with lots of other little bits mixed in. Kazama is a young delinquent who comes to Fujou high believing he'll be able to take it over and make a name for himself. Too bad he gets suckered in by the curious ongoings of a video game club and gets tortured into joining them. From there, his high school career of insanity and infamy as the king of comebacks (and second fiddle to the most fearsome people around) begins as they galivant and explore and in general cause mayhem and headaches.

Oh yeah, and there's 17 volumes and it's still not been a full year in real time in D-Frag! Yeah, that's right, this thing is stretched out, but you don't even think about it. One could only imagine how experiencing all of these moments one after the next would affect a young high schooler. Moving on, some art to break up my monotonous explanations of what D-Frag! is!

I don't think words could really explain what's so appealing to this manga. It's got such a classic feel to it and is so incredibly true to itself. No matter what trope it brings up, it'll subvert expectations and find a way to turn it silly and diffuse any and all tension. It builds things up and up and up, and just as it's about to place the final piece on top to complete it, Tomoya Haruno (the author) comes swooping in to topple it in the most satisfying way possible.

Not to mention, it's running jokes are absolutely top notch. There's definitely some that are rather cliched, but also more than a few that are fresh and enjoyable within the overall approach of the series. Like the constant jokes about the envy and fear that Takao's (one of the characters) chest instills in fellow women and girls.

It's really hard to talk about how D-Frag! is so much fun and such a great read without spoiling because I could talk on end about how refreshing, unique, and interesting redacted was. Or how the entire redacted arc was a wild card that was incredibly fun. Maybe this. Parents exist in D-Frag!, they really do. We see both Kazama's mother and father, we see Roka's mother, Takao's mother, Chitose's older sister, and a handful of others. Oh yeah, and just for effect, Sean Connery is a teacher at Fujou High.

And who totally could would forget the unique side characters of D-Frag! ? There's , and there there's , and of course you can't forget about . Jokes aside, the side characters have a real thing for being bald and weird in general and I'm all for it. It's so out of left field and random that it feels like two series collided to form this single one.

I swear, at least one chapter every volume has these ridiculous battle shounen introductions and interactions, and no matter what they get me every time. And they're so detailed? Haruno sensei absolutely put a good amount of effort into designing them and adding random throwaway details just to make them seem more absurd.

I don't know, I fully admit that D-Frag! isn't some foundational, groundbreaking series that has incredibly well timed or apt and effective humor, nor is it something super relatable or anything that really stands out by critical metrics. But to me, it's just plain dumb fun. One stupid thing after the next, one ridiculous escapade followed by another, guided by Haruno sensei's incredibly odd sense of interest and direction. It's something I don't know I'll ever grow tired of because Haruno sensei has stumbled upon a golden formula for D-Frag!. We're going to hit 15 years of publication this year, so here's to many more. (Also, check out the anime, it's loads of fun for what it adapts from the manga).

[necarion]

Series that ended strong

I’ve been thinking recently about media franchises that make it to the end of a long series and then really nail the ending. This is obviously extremely challenging; anything that’s run for sufficiently long is going to have a ton of moving pieces that are hard to pull together in a way that’s satisfying for the reader. Sometimes this is because there are many plot threads that need resolution, and sometimes because there are character payoffs that need to finally come do.  Regardless, some media really manage it.

Some things that come to mind for me are below. I’m trying to include things that were particularly large or long-running, or were not intended to be as involved as they were.

Full conclusion, but ran out of steam. It didn’t leave any major plot threads hanging, even if there are elements that are kind of unsatisfying.  Sometimes this happens when an author just is tired, or when the thing becomes a bit too unwieldy.  There are a lot of things here. Schlockmercenary. Ra. Worm (Worm desperately needs a rewrite of the back third, more or less).

Endings that landed the plane reasonably well. These are endings that managed to pull most things together in a way that work better than not.

Avengers: Endgame. Managed to get the first three phases of the MCU to a close that was basically satisfying for most of the core characters. Had its dumb moments (many a result of Infinity War). Had a great HELL YEAH moment.

Things that had a satisfying conclusion. This usually requires (most) character arcs or plot arcs to be completed.

Wheel of Time. Brandon Sanderson inherited a basically impossible task from Robert Jordan. Yes, many of the threads had been partially wrapped before he took over, but the most important ones (especially Rand and Egwene) and then the entire Last Battle needed to be resolved.  He’s also dealing with 15 years of other plot constraints in an acute case of Death of the Author. I think he did better than could possibly have been expected and delivered and ending that I still am reluctant to reread unless I’m okay crying my eyes out. Nevertheless, there are a bunch of bits that are weird or don’t quite work for folks.

Animorphs. (I’m told, I never got to the ending). Unsatisfying in a lot of ways (no happy endings), but very satisfying thematically.

Harry Potter.

Things that nailed the ending (best category):

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

A Practical Guide to Evil. The best example I can think of for this. The series got progressively stronger as it ran. And then the final book kept getting better and better. Almost every major conflict ended satisfyingly resolved (whether for the character or the story). Even when there were unsatisfying moments, they turned out to be deliberately so, to be properly resolved later. Every major character, and many of the minor one’s I’d gotten to love over the past 5 years, got big moments. And then the last 10 or so chapters were a set of absolute bangers. Followed by a pair of Epilogues that absolutely wrecked me.

The Good Place. Didn’t have a bad episode anywhere and absolutely nailed the finish. That was a hell of a finale, really showcasing the growth that all the characters had made over the four seasons.

And then we have the odd category of “solid ending, but then faceplanted”. These are ones in which there was actually a really good ending in there somewhere, and then at the very end, something got put in place that was a “what the fuck?” moment. These ones are often stories where fans say “just don’t watch after 10 minutes in the final episode”.

Battlestar Galactica (2004)

How I Met Your Mother

Any additions for the list?

[multi-royalty-arc]

What is the muse that you write for the longest? / Are you happy with how your favorite canon muse was portrayed in canon? / How do you create an OC? What are your steps for developing an OC? / What’s something you wish to improve?

Questions for the mun. (accepting)

What is the muse that you write for the longest?

Donna Noble from doctor who- I've been writing things for her for around ten years now but had a long intermittence.

Most recently the muse I've been writing the longest and most consistently is Madison Montgomery from American Horror Story coven.

Are you happy with how your favourite canon muse was portrayed in canon?

I have so many favourite Canon muses but there's two that I'll discuss.

The first being Madison Montgomery - I think she's portrayed well, and is a good representation of someone who suffers with BPD (even though this isn't stated in the show, she presents many symptoms). Madison has a lot of things to be unhappy about and the canon shows the way she's working through her past to change the way she feels about the present however I do believe American Horror Story as a whole has many gaps and missing information, and character arcs that aren't completed or fully explained. I could watch a series based on Madison alone and probably still wouldn't be satisfied, but I think that's a normal thing to feel about your faves.

The second is Caroline Forbes - Who's story and development is well put down. She grows from a mean popular cheerleader into an aspiring young woman. Throughout the show she's finding herself whilst all these things are just happening to her and her friends and there's chaos all around. I really like Caroline's portrayal and I couldn't think of anyone better to play her than Candice.

How do you create an OC // What are your steps for developing an OC?

I put these two together since they're kind of the same, so far I'm only running with one OC and it's fairly new to me. I looked for a gap in the canon where I felt she could fit quite nicely. The steps I took were really reading and watching through the canon to make sure she'd fit well, have her backstory make sense and ask for opinions on what others thought.

What’s something you wish to improve?

Always always hoping to improve my writing skills and broaden my vocabulary.

[no-droids]

Home

gif credit: @javier-pena

Part Eighteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.5K

Warnings: SMUT, religion kink (maybe?), squirting, consensual stalking/pursuing, canon-typical violence, mention of underage drinking, uhh I believe that’s it but as always, let me know if I’ve forgotten anything please!

A/N: Hey yall!!!  So I know this chapter has been a long time coming and though I’m not completely satisfied with it, I hope it brings a little happiness to you for an hour or two while you read!  School has been kicking my ass and I’ve been in a bit of an emotional slump recently, but I pulled a few all-nighters to post this on time and it’s finally finished!  Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me and sent me encouraging words over the past month or so, I hope you enjoy the end of the Sanctuary arc💕

Also like last time, part 2 of my collaboration with @followwhereshegoes will be posted after the chapter!!  As a reminder, sweet girl is a reader insert and every imagining of her will be different—this is Lisa’s interpretation of her and her artwork is absolutely gorgeous, so please go give her a follow!

Day 5–11:13am:

You zone out again in the early morning, but that happens a lot.  Din always keeps you up so late, all the time, and without any caf here, the rising sun just makes your eyes droop instead of flutter brighter and wider.  You helped a bunch of younglings find their way into their robes when it was still dark out, tying sashes and fitting masks while holding back your yawns.  The walk into Nariss is close to three hours, probably more with all these tiny little legs, and you almost forget to change into your new digs before everyone grabs breakfast.

Even though your ragtag entourage leaves for Nariss just as soon as everyone finishes eating, you don’t reach the city until nearly lunchtime.  Mostly because the kids walk about as fast as the elderly holy women chaperoning the trip.  You and Naydee lag behind the group, forcing yourself to meander slow as fuck when you nearly sprinted this same exact path just a few days ago.  On the way there, you listen to children of all sorts sing happily as they walk, chatter about their excitement for the parade, complain about wearing the fabric mask they made themselves, and more than once, somebody takes a tumble onto the ground and is left in teary sniffles and dirt stained clothes.  Likely for this reason, the robes are designed to be two pieces—a long tunic with a hood and a separate pants portion to prevent tripping instead of a draping skirt, but the smallest ones are clumsy and find a way to fall anyways.

It’s a colorful bunch—a chaotic rainbow of babies running around, and you share easy conversation with your new friend about the plans for the day until she asks something that makes you nearly trip and join the dirty robe club.

“Sister Drya said your family is meeting you in the city,” she tells you, ignoring your immediate subtle toe stub and the awkward shuffle you have to do to make up for it.  “There’s going to be lots of people downtown, I’m worried it might be hard for them to find you.”

Your heart thuds in your chest and you feel a bit short of breath at being abruptly confronted with the need to lie, but at the same time, you kind of love it.  Having a secret, hiding the truth from others, and just the reminder that you’re almost guaranteed to see Din and the baby before midnight pours warmth and tingles through your tummy.  Everything together is a hit of spice, filling you with a kind of excitement that used to be foreign to you.  Having fun, experiencing new things isn’t quite over yet, but home is calling and you miss it with every fiber of your being.

“I don’t think so,” you eventually respond, hoping she can see your kind smile and the sentiment it carries even as light, shimmery fabric wraps right around your mouth.  “If I disappear, you’ll know why.”

Naydee’s eyes crinkle in the corners to match yours.  “Hopefully you’ll be able to see the fireworks first,” she nudges you, her skin glowing against the pale cream fabric she has wrapped around her own mouth and the hood laying delicately over her braids.  “They start at eight.”

The fireworks, you almost forgot.  You know what?  Today is a good day.  You hear yourself think the full sentence multiple times, and the words put a spring in your step after every single one.  The road gradually becomes wider and filled with more travelers, and you feel safe in the back.  Like some kind of sheepdog bringing up the rear of this migrating cluster of children, making sure none of them drift off by themselves and start eating grass or something.

Surprisingly, the kids manage to be relatively patient and well-behaved once they’re in line at the gates.  The Sisters shuffle them along one by one as everyone moves up slowly, taking even longer to get into the city than it did a few days ago.  The entrance is packed already—so many people visiting for the festival, and they’re all dressed in costumes or robes of sorts, or at least a mask.  Most are beautifully crafted, but some manage to look slightly scary even with the soft springtime color schemes.  It’s a completely different world, a different life for each person as you pass them by.  Your stomach is starting to growl by the time you finally make it to the front, and luckily the guards just let the kids through without any ceremony.  Just you and the rest of the caretakers in light robes need to hold still for the retinal scan, matching each other perfectly except for differing shades of fabric, skin, and eye color.  Once the gates open for you and you step through, though… it’s… Maker.

Extravagant, magnificent are both words.  Floral is another.

It’s like they hung up bouquets wherever they could think to fit them, and this is just the edge of the city.  As the group moves through the streets and closer to downtown, it becomes more and more overwhelming.  The air itself is a warm fragrance wafting all around you, sunshiney and breezy and perfect, flowers of all kinds lining the modern buildings and archways like they were planted there from the very beginning and it just took this long to bloom between the cracks in the concrete.  You wish you had names for all of them so you could list them—the only thing you can offer is the color and vague descriptions of the ones that stick out to you.  Tiny yellow ones that are so small, they need to be bunched all together in massive quantities to even resemble normal flowers.  Up overhead, elaborate arrangements of enormous blue and purple and pink ones, wrapping around each other and hanging down from rooftops.  Some don’t even have petals, it’s like they’re big green cups that are big enough to hold things inside them.  You’re fascinated by every single one, wanting to stop and smell them all individually but needing to keep up with the large group and not allow any stragglers to be left behind, including yourself.

About an hour later, when you’re almost in the middle of the city and there are people everywhere, it’s time to eat lunch.  There isn’t much to it because of how expensive it is, and you’d normally feel bad for accepting the small meal each one of the children gets, but you donated all of your credits to the Keja and left absolutely zero for yourself.  Good intentions, terrible idea.  Still, you pull your mask down and snack on some deliciously fried food, trying not to eye anyone else’s platter after you finish yours.  It’s so good and it’s gone in an instant; you couldn’t even say what exactly it was besides which stall you got it at.  Whether it’s just the brilliant atmosphere or if the food on this moon is really just that good, you’re not really sure, but you’re still slightly hungry afterwards with no extra money to sneak a snack.

Soon after, the kids all line up to get their faces painted, or whatever portion of their face is visible behind the cloth masks and hoods they’ve got on, and music blares from at least four different directions and none of the songs are even in the same language.  Depending on the part of town, it seems like the celebrations are all different.  It makes sense, considering most if not all of these individuals were victims of the Empire’s wrath, spread far and wide across the galaxy.  Here, they’re free, and they want everyone to know it.  Spring festivals of some sort are likely common for most cultures, at least those from planets with seasons, not like Arvala-7 where it was arid and hot year-round, and you’re assuming there are multiple things being celebrated today depending on which street you live on.  There’s chanting in different tongues, dancing and drums, outfits and masks from different cultures every single time you look.

At some point, the children spot a crowded street with flowery rails set up all along them, and you stand behind the tiny heads while everyone waits for the parade to begin.  You think your heart has just been beating slightly faster than normal all day today, but when you finally hear the sound of sirens blaring in the distance and cheers begin to pour out from the gathered crowd, it kicks up and you feel like you’re just as wide eyed at the spectacle as the waist-high babies all huddled together up against the railing.

A flurry of people and things pass in slow succession.  First, New Republic officers with their blaring holobikes, bright orange as always.  Then come large groups of people walking behind banners in languages you can’t read, some of them waving, some of them making different sounds and songs.  Bands marching in formation, dancers in dresses and masks and gorgeous flowers in their hair like crowns, and then brilliant hovering vehicles decorated in bright colors and festive depictions.  The craftsmanship and cultural significance is stunning to witness, it’s so insanely loud, there’s so much going on, and yet…

Through it all, you think of Din.  No matter the faces, the sights you see.  There’s someone juggling.  There’s either a very tall man and woman walking together or they’re both on stilts.  There are enormous balloons being led through the air, people are riding atop an assortment of animals you’ve never seen before, there are traditional costumes and spectacular stunts being performed.  Stalls with games and prizes line the stretches of concrete on the cross streets, people are laughing and celebrating and drinking in equal parts, everything is so lively and festive and fun, and yet, though it all, you think of Din.  Him and the baby, they’re always in the forefront of your mind, occupying your thoughts and making your tummy stir more and more as the time passes like the parade in front of you.  You don’t think this environment would ever be his favorite, and in some far away galaxy, perhaps if you lived other lives together and called a beautiful moon exactly like this home, then you might have to drag him out to see all the with you and the kid every year.  You’d have to bat your eyelashes and kiss his cheek and snuggle up to him all nice and pretty like, and he’d probably grumble and complain about it while wrapping his arms around you—all the people and the noise, sweet girl—but he’d go.  For you, he’d go.

Your thoughts suddenly stop short and you blink for a second.  Why… Why was that scene so vivid?  So wistful?  You used to preoccupy yourself with fantasies about Din all the time, back before you even knew him as Din.  But in every single one, it was sexual and likely came from a place of boredom, a lack of external stimulation.  Here you are amidst bustling surroundings, and you’re daydreaming about domesticity with him.  Why?  You want to travel the galaxy, right?  You want to see things you’ve never seen before, right?

For some reason, you think of the floor, and you miss it.

***

Day 5—5:04pm:

It’s late afternoon at this point and nobody can find the teens.

More people have made their way into the city and it’s starting to get extremely fucking crowded, especially where you are downtown, and the handful of them must’ve slipped away with all the excitement happening and how difficult it is to keep the young ones together now that the parade is over.  You don’t know how long they’ve been gone—one second they were walking around just slightly detached from the rest of you, you assumed because the boisterous younglings fucked with their cool vibe, and then the next Naydee is gasping out to you that they’re gone.

“Sister Drya is going to kill me,” she hisses, her dark eyebrows furrowed in self-admonishment and stress.  So many fucking people here, you know her pain.  “I was supposed to be chaperoning them, they were just here—”

She shakes her head under the loose, cream-colored hood, groaning and then speeding up her gait to catch up with the woman in charge, but you decide to grab her wrist before she can relay the bad news.  

“I can go find them,” you offer, speaking as low as you can with the blaring noise surrounding you.  “Before anyone knows they’re missing.  Is there a way to convince everybody to stay in one spot for a little while?  You won’t get in trouble, but I need to know how to find you again.”

Naydee’s eyes widen in surprise, and even though it’s likely a bit out of character for you, you have a feeling it’ll be a deceptively easy task.  Even with the masses right now and how atrociously big this city is, you already have a general idea of where they’re likely to be.  Besides, you’re not even sure your absence will be noticed if Naydee is the only one who figured out the teens were gone—the other Sisters can thrive without you while missing anyone else would be noticeable, and you owe your new friend a thousand favors for helping you out these past few days.  The least you can do is save her from the scolding of one of the scariest old ladies you've ever met.

“Be as quick as you can,” she finally agrees.  It’s a lot of trust to put into you, but you’ve had experience in reading the most unreadable man in the entire galaxy, some teenagers shouldn’t pose too much of a problem.  “If you’re not back in thirty minutes or somebody notices, I’ll have to say something.”

You nod, silently breaking away from the group without another word.  You think you can hear her announce to everyone that it might be best to eat dinner now to skip any long lines later—smart—but you’re out of their hearing range and line of sight almost immediately.

***

Day 5–5:17pm:

“Really?”  You raise an eyebrow since they won’t be able to see the way your mouth is twisted up underneath your mask, crossing your arms and tapping your foot against the ground to further illustrate just how not fucking impressed you are.

Seven teenagers freeze, and slowly—depending on how much bravery they can individually muster—they turn around on their stools to face you.  The atmosphere in the tavern is bustling and cheery, booze being passed around a large crowd that laughs and mingles, but your vibe is stone cold and quiet.  The contrast doesn’t feel wrong on you like it normally would; the negative and disapproving energy you’re emitting makes you feel powerful, untouchable, armored and strong.

“How did you find us so fast?”  One of the twin boys squeaks out behind a light blue robe, sounding worried.

“Had a hunch,” you grumble, glaring sternly at each of them in turn.  Your tone is dry, your voice sits lower in your throat when you’re pissed off.  All you had to do was look for the closest bar that doesn’t have any orange jumpsuits poking around waiting to card underage younglings, it wasn’t that difficult.  “You’re not exactly unpredictable.”

“Are you gonna rat us out?”  The other twin asks you, in a voice that’s oddly deep compared to his brother.

“I should,” you snap, quickly reaching out to push their drinks away.  “I should let Sister Drya rain down her holy fury on your asses, got good people all twisted up over you for nothing and I’m missing dinn—”

You don’t know why, but you suddenly cut yourself off and jerk upright, spinning around.

The sounds of glasses clinking and boisterous voices fill the bar, but they seem to fade out for a second.  Your eyes fly around the crowded space, your heart lodged in your throat and looking for anything reflective.  Every flash you see is a false alarm—belt buckle, wristwatch, cocktail shaker—

He’s here… isn’t he?

Only, there’s nothing.  Nothing is out of place, nothing jumps out at you the way you’re assuming it will.  You’re braced taut and ready to bolt at the first sign of a chase, but it never comes.

It’s so… unexpected, this feeling.  It’s not like you’re being hunted anymore, but instead, you’re the hunter.  You’re feeling the weight of him from this far away and it’s like he’s calling for you to come find him, teasing the wild adrenaline rush you get from just feeling his presence, as if he absolutely knows it happens.  Whispering soft in your ear and then vanishing the second you’re able to turn around, like he’s here but he’s not.  Playing with you from so far away.

This… this is a taunt.  

The whole thing at the inn was leagues below this, that was rudimentary.  Teasing, getting even, having fun with each other, whatever you want to call that, that’s what it was.  This is scarily sophisticated.  Fluid and practiced and the best kind of frightening, stark and dangerous compared to the carefree and upbeat setting surrounding you.  You’re not making it up, it’s not just you being paranoid.  You know him with your eyes closed.  You know he’s here somewhere watching you, just like you know the starlight that streaks across the pitch black horizon of hyperspace.  Not because you can see it, not really, not directly.  But because by it, even in the vastest and darkest and emptiest of voids, you’re suddenly able to see everything else.

“You okay, Nerida?”

The volume gradually comes back up and you blink, suddenly remembering where you are, who else is with you.  The chatter becomes slightly louder than it seemed before.

“Yeah,” you eventually say, slightly airy while continuing to stare emptily at the crowded room.  He’s not here, you don’t think, not anymore at least.  But you’re not stupid, you know what this means.  You’re already caught, there’s nothing you can conceivably do that will delay the reunion for the next—you look down and pull the loose sleeve up to check your communicator—seven fucking hours, there’s no way.  He’ll pull back and follow you, keep up with you from a distance and then snatch you away right when you let your guard down.  You at least need to get the kids back to their guardians before that can happen, though.

“Let’s go,” you quietly tell the group of foundlings, grabbing elbows and hauling them out of their stools.  “Naydee was the only one who knew that you were gone when I left.  Here’s to hoping she managed to keep it that way.”

***

Day 5–5:32pm:

Against all odds, you’re able to rally the wayward teens and successfully lead them through shoulders that are beginning to move closer together as the crowd grows and grows.  You stay towards the back and don’t look behind you once—not only do you not want to give the younglings an unnecessary reason to become paranoid or to question your actions, but you can still feel Din lingering.  Moving like a shadow, probably fitting in perfectly with the masked festival-goers, nothing drawing any attention to him with all the spectacular sights and noise occurring.

Soon you return to the same spot from before, and you and the teenagers seamlessly integrate yourselves back into the rest of the group without anyone noticing a thing is out of place.  When you move to stand beside her, Naydee’s bone-deep sigh of relief is palpable even behind the concealing fabric; she squeezes your hand incredibly tight in a silent gesture of thanks, and then pulls something from the deep pockets of her robe and passes it to you sneakily.  A purple fruit.  She must’ve saved it for you.

Maker, fuck yes.  It’s not much but it’s more dinner than any of the seven troublemakers get, but Naydee quietly assures you they’ll be able to eat something once they return to the Keja around midnight, just not the tasty expensive treats they’re selling at the vendors.  As the sun goes down, you try not to stain your pretty fabric a deep maroon as you chomp and feel your lips start to curl upwards.  It sounds so fucking stupid when you put it like this, but you keep going back to Din and revelling in knowing that he’s so close, like you’re just mentally checking in on him.  You don’t get the sensation by thinking, though—more like you just focus really hard on your heart and feel him there just a second afterwards.

Is that how pure, stupid, shameless love feels when you’re completely entrenched in it?  It’s not like it’s surrounding you, it’s not suffocating you or making you float.  It’s just a thing.  Like… a thing inside your chest, a physical thing you can search for and find, something you can point to on your body and say it’s right here, this is where my love for him lives.  Right at the bottom of your heart, right where it curves and beats strong when other hearts meet flat at sharp angles.  You do it over and over again, reconfirming its existence every single time.  You don’t know what else you’d call it.  Love is the only word.  To love, to know.  To hold in the heart.

Soon, you start to notice that people are slowly moving around your stationary group.  You look up and watch the crowd begin to walk, some of them giving soft smiles to the cute children as they pass by, but all of them following the same unspoken direction.

“Where is everyone going?”  You ask Naydee, standing on your tiptoes to watch the crowd migrate like a giant system, an organism or mechanism of thousands (or tens of thousands?) of smaller moving parts all traveling in tandem.  It’s fascinating—you’ve been to crowded places, you know what it looks like when a lot of people are packed into one area, but you’ve never seen what it looks like when they all move together.  They would normally be bumping into each other, slipping in between, fighting and never really getting anywhere, interacting individually and thinking separately.  Now they’re progressing in one single direction, so many with the same mindset and understanding of what comes next.  A second parade, almost, with New Republic officers directing the flow of pedestrians as they pass.

“The eastern part of the city!”  Naydee yells over the noise and points, and beyond her extended finger, you can barely see the light of a dusky body of water in the distance beyond the buildings.  “The fireworks are going to go off over the bay, but it takes awhile to get there!”

“Is…”  You blink for a second, suddenly caught off guard, trying to think back to the holomap the concierge pulled up at the front desk of the inn.  Surely you would’ve noticed it, but your sudden childlike hope makes you ask anyway.  “Is it part of an ocean?”

Naydee shakes her head.  “A really big lake!”

Your shoulders drop just the slightest bit in disappointment but still, you ache to see it.  You can’t even imagine—the fireworks are likely going to reflect across the water, giving everyone double the view.  And luckily, after all the children and caretakers are individually accounted for, you start to behind the slow-moving crowd towards the docks you know lie beyond.  

Naydee scurries ahead to keep the kids together, ushering them forward and preventing any drunk passer-bys from accidentally stepping on them, and you quietly bring up the very rear of the entourage.  You take the time to observe more than anything, walk in the back and experience instead of trailblaze.  So many people, so many stories to be told, so many differences and diversity around you.  Your face is partially concealed and you don’t move your head too much, just your eyes.  They flick around to take in everything, the crowd thinning little by little as you make it out of the confined space downtown.  You’re able to make out full bodies and outfits again instead of just heads and shoulders, allowing you to breathe just a bit easier under your mask.

And then at one point—and it’s almost a little startling because it happens all at once—the organizers must decide that the sun has officially gone down, because the lights come on.  All of a sudden, paper lanterns and bulbs flicker into existence all around you and the world decides it wants to glow, glint and twinkle from the inside out.  They’re everywhere, draping across rooftops and tangled around street signs and stuffed into the flower bouquets overhead, raining soft colors down on everything.  You’re in complete awe, trying to keep walking but also needing to look at as much as fucking possible in the suddenly luminescent city.  It’s so colorful, so vernal and warm and you feel like you’re… Like when you took a shower on the Crest for the first time and spent a few happy moments just playing with the water and soap for your own enjoyment, it’s as if all the brilliant rainbow of colors the bubbles would make under the fluorescent light decided to surround you at the same time.  You’re inside stained glass, blinking at the flowers and wondering if Din can even smell the air or if it’s filtered, processed and reduced to nothing under the helmet.

And that’s when you see him.

But with the way your chest rapidly constricts and you can count your heart beats as they pound, blaring white noise through your ears and adrenaline through your veins, it’s like he's just allowing it to happen.  You immediately understand that you don’t have fucking anything the second your eyes land on him; this isn’t a heads up that you caught wind of early, it’s not a gift or an advantage you’ve incidentally gained over him that you should be thankful for.  Being able to see him directly like this, being able to make out all these fucking details from this far away…  This just feels like you’re being informed of the endgame right before it comes.  If you were anyone else, if you were a real bounty and this was a real hunt, his armor glinting and reflecting the lanterns overhead would feel like a knife you're about to be on the wrong side of.

You have a decision to make, very quickly.  Either keep in this same direction, head straight towards him and just pretend like you are who you’re dressed as, a random caretaker for a bunch of rowdy foundlings during a spring festival on Nariss, or disappear.  Drop back, move through the crowd and use the distance you have between you right now as your only hope of getting away in time.  Neither one gives you a particular advantage—your chances of being caught have already skyrocketed exponentially just being able to see the reflection in his armor, the hovering shield at his side with big black eyes… staring directly at you.

You almost trip over your pantlegs, gasping.  Baby.  He beams at you and you think he calls out through the passing crowd, his tiny arms extending out, and your chest feels like you’re pulling organs as if they were muscles, cramping up and seizing with emotion.  You want to run to them even though you’re meant to be running from them, call out over the noise and wave even though you’re not supposed to.  You want to hold the kid again, squish his little forehead with kisses, walk around with Din’s hand pressed against your lower back and see the fireworks with him.

Your hands clutch at the draping fabric covering your chest, pulling and twisting it uncertainly.  What do you do, what do you do?

No matter what, you know it’s over.  Keep your head down and try to move past him, or break away from your group and try to escape—both are different paths that lead to the same result.  What’s the point of running when he’s the one chasing you?  The heart-pounding thrill is the only reason you’re even considering it, but his body stands so tall amongst the crowd, not moving while people ebb and flow like a river passing around him.

Except then you can hear his voice repeat the last thing he said to you in person as if he says it directly into the comm in your ear.  When you do see me… try to outrun.

You should run—run, it’s better than just hoping he doesn’t see you when you already know he does.

Unless…

Out of a trillion different possibilities, you soon realize that there is exactly one situation in which this could turn out in your favor.  You can immediately picture the scenario in your mind, but there’s just too many variables to conceivably rely on getting them all right.  This maybe has a… two percent chance of working?  Maybe?  Everything would have to go perfectly, just fucking flawlessly, but what other choice do you have?  Two percent is better than whatever odds you’re dealing with now.

You walk silently behind the group of foundlings as you approach closer and closer, keeping your head purposefully down as they skip and giggle and dance ahead.  He knows you’re here—he has to know, you’re counting on him knowing.  Walk right in front of him, pretend like you don’t see, make sure you keep left.  Keep left, keep left, keep your head down, keep your head down—

A leather glove suddenly catches hold of your wrist hard enough to tug you backwards.

Your gasp is audible over the sound of the crowd and you spin around, jerking your head up to look at him in fear.  Your heart slams as the beskar reflects your mask and hood back at you—you’re terrified and it shows, you can see it in your eyes.

You quickly try to yank your hand away, even as your index finger stretches up towards the communicator around his wrist.

“Miss Nerida?”  A child’s voice cries, and then small hands grab at you from behind as you bury the urge to actually fight him.  Your instincts are demanding you attack when his grip is this strong, but you just whine and struggle, slapping weakly at him with your free hand and feeling more of the younglings begin to pull at you, their high pitched voices calling more and more attention to the scene.

Your gaze flicks to the side, suddenly landing on a pair of New Republic officers helping direct the thousands of moving bodies from the closest street corner.  They’re looking at you, pointing and beginning to speak into their own comm units.  Din’s helmet snaps sideways to follow your gaze, and then he’s immediately dropping your wrist and stepping back, retreating as quickly as he caught you.  Though you don’t want to—though you don’t want to give yourself away even more, you want to pretend fully that he was a complete stranger and the children were right to try to help you get away—your eyes fall to your son in the hovering crib by his side and you feel yourself crumble just a bit.

Just a few more hours, kid.  A few more hours.

Children pull you away while your pursuers both disappear into the crowd, and you quickly turn to soothe the tiny babies instead of chasing after the one you miss so terribly.

“I’m alright,” you tell them, scooting them up and encouraging them to continue walking.  Blend in, blend in, don’t let anybody think anything is wrong.  “Come on, we’re fine, come on, we have to catch up.”

They take your lead as soon as one of the caretakers turns around and sees the small group crowding around you.  You think she asks what happened, but you just tell her a man mistook you for someone else and nothing more comes of it.  She’s able to settle the chaos better than you are, and by the time you’re continuing to travel forwards once more like nothing happened, the communicator suddenly flicks on in your ear.

“What did you do?”  He breathes out, his footsteps moving fast through his voice.  He’s traveling much quicker than you expected—is he still being followed?  The officers are gone from your sight, they might be going after him right now, weaving between bodies and calling out to the perpetually vanishing glint of armor as he navigates his way out of danger.

You look down at the comm on your wrist and your heart nearly soars with victory.  It worked.  It worked.  You just have to outlast a bit longer, don’t draw any extra attention to it—he’s preoccupied and he certainly doesn’t sound happy, but you hope that’ll be enough to make him slip.  Use his frustration to your advantage, let him think the only thing you were successful at was momentarily escaping him.

“The cops weren’t part of the plan,” you admit quietly, keeping your head down as your loose hood billows in the twilight breeze.  “Don’t get caught.”

There’s a few moments of just his breathing, his footsteps, and the noise floor humming through the comm, before he finally responds.  “You look beautiful.”

You stare unseeingly down at the concrete under your feet, still feeling your hand tingle from where he caught you.  The line abruptly mutes on his end and you just keep moving forward, onward, wanting to look back but knowing he’s already long gone.

***

Day 5–5:24pm:

Din is fucking furious.

He had you.  You were right there, right in front of him, and even if he hadn’t been subtly trailing you all day, seeing the red footsteps get covered and flicker out of existence just a few moments after you make them, he would’ve recognized you anywhere.  In black and white, in the fading light, with your face covered, children calling you by a different name and attaching themselves to you like they’ve known you forever—doesn’t matter, he would’ve known you.  Your eyes have always given you away, always so expressive and starry and soft, but able to see right through solid steel whenever you look at him.

But then you slipped from his grasp, and then more guards pushed him further and further away from you.  They must all be in constant communication, because every single jumpsuit he sees immediately spots him and starts following.  It’s fucking exhausting, and he thinks of you the whole time.

He waits in a dark alley with the kid and taps the side of the helmet a few times to bring up the time on his comm, but then relaxes just slightly when he sees the hour.  It’s earlier than he thought it was, he’ll be able to find you again.

Though, something tugs at him while he’s looking at the clock ticking away in front of his eyes, counting down each second that passes.  There was… a moment.  Back in the square, when he was holding onto you again, when you were looking directly into his once more—everything in his helmet— 

No, he shakes his head while the kid looks up at him curiously, it can’t be.  It was just a split second, it was gone so fast.

But he can’t get rid of it.  Though there’s no explanation, he thinks the display screen flickered.  The sky behind you looked different for a single frame, your footsteps weren’t bright red and visible anymore, your eyes weren’t grey and he stopped wondering what shade of fabric you and your friend decided to choose for you to wear.  It was silvery, he’s almost certain.  Like his armor, it only reflected the color of everything around it.

Color.  Everywhere.  Bursting for a blink of an eye, and then gone just as quick, before he could actually figure out what it really meant.

***

Day 5–6:59pm:

This water is quiet here, but it sparkles.

It doesn’t ever really get truly dark thanks to the enormous hanging moon and ringed gas giant dancing with Sanctuary II, constantly reflecting light back onto the surface and reacting with some of the trace chemicals up above the atmosphere, and you think the sky just might be the prettiest you’ve ever seen it.  Must have something to do with the equinox, the glimmering angles of light being played with by celestial bodies in this stunning system, but it’s a dream.  The Maker apparently couldn’t decide which colors he wanted tonight so he just splashed all of them together all at once, let them run and blend like ink in the gentle water below, like the various people who call this moon home.

That view in front of you, coupled with all the flowers and lanterns lining the streets behind you, and you’ve lost track of time the exact same way you hoped Din would.  You think you’ve stood for about an hour or so in this one spot, half-listening to excited chatter from the babies, mostly just gazing across the stretch of water and being able to just barely spot the docks in the distance, but it feels like it’s only been minutes.

You check your watch—the fireworks should be starting any second now.  You don’t know what to expect, just that in your experience, explosions tend to be loud.  You've decided you’re not going to plug your ears, though.  Tummy twisting with nerves and another inexplicable feeling you can’t quite put your finger on, you resolve to experience the unknown exactly the way it’s meant to be.  Fully, without worry or fear.

Then, lacking any warning or ceremony whatsoever, a single flare launches silent and high from one of the small boats skimming the bay, and the crowd seems to hold its collective breath as the dim light disappears into thin air for a split second, before—

It’s… quite possibly the most dazzling thing you think you’ve ever seen.  So shamelessly decorative just for the sake of it, not serving any other practical purpose besides celebration and visual spectacle, and you’ll probably never know another extravagance like it.  You grew up with dust pelting against tired eyes, you never thought they’d get to reflect such gorgeous bursts of color back up at the sky, glassy and childlike amongst a group of equally wide-eyed children.

As expected, a deafening boom follows closely behind the singular display, but just witnessing it is incredible enough to make you forget to brace yourself for the sound and you jump almost violently in response.  There comes a loud cheer from the people standing around you, a few delighted gasps and children who decide now is the best time to start crying, but then more flares begin to launch from the boats and the subsequent show will sear itself into your memory to replay over and over again.

Still, you think the endless sky and dark water below would have to light on fire to stop him from coming to mind.

Din.

You click the comm on, continuing to stare in stunned awe but wanting nothing more than to hear his voice right now, feel his hand rest on your lower back and the kid’s three fingers squeezing one of yours while the stars rain down from above.  You’re only continuing to run from him because it’s expected of you, that’s the reason you’re here, but it’s becoming harder and harder to argue with yourself.  “Do you always see in black and white?”

It takes him just a few seconds to respond, but he always does.  “Only when I’m tracking someone.”

The loud booms can be heard over the earpiece, happening maybe a second after they crack and sparkle above you.  You can’t tell if the latency is due to the electronics or if he’s just that far away from the source of the sound itself, but… you don’t think he is.  He feels close again, like he could just walk up right next to you any second, or maybe that’s just how he always feels now.

“Does that mean you haven’t seen the sky here?”  You ask after a moment.  This whole time, everything has been grey for him?

“I saw it,” Din murmurs, and even though it’s quiet and explosions are thundering loud enough to deafen more sensitive ears, his quiet voice somehow breaks through it all.  “When you left the Crest, I saw it behind you.”

For some reason, you suddenly feel like crying.  Whether it’s the way he phrases it or the sentiment in the words, you’re close to tears without even knowing why, looking up at the sky illuminating spectacularly.  He says it like he wasn’t the one who parked on this moon and told you to go on without him.  “Can you… turn it off for just a second?”

He takes a second, before clarifying for you.  “I turn it off and I lose your footprints.”

So that was the ultimatum.  He doesn’t want to turn it off until you’re back with him again.  Does he not understand?  Does he not know what you know?  Maybe you just happened to feel it first, this overwhelming physical sensation inside you whenever you think about him.  It’s like the exact opposite of a hole in your chest.  And it’s so odd, so counterintuitive.  Being comforted in his absence, feeling him with you when he isn’t.  Falling in love in the dark, knowing him without ever seeing him.

“You never needed them,” you say, reaching up to pull your mask down under your jaw and chin for a moment, wanting to freely breathe the freshwater and flowers while stars explode and fracture across the sky.  It’s a truth you’re acknowledging, something you’ll carry with you, something you fundamentally own at this point.  “You’d find me without the helmet.  And I’d find you.”

The fireworks continue to bleed into the water beneath them, multicolor splashes rippling into existence and disappearing just as quick.  You could’ve never imagined a more colorful, magnificent landscape—besides your waterfall on Naboo, of course.  That was a pure product of nature though, a place hidden away and untouched by people, completely sacred.  Light refracting against mist, natural glass that would shatter under your weight.  This is a celebration of life and family.  Loud in a different way, affecting you in a different way, but just as wonderful and touching.  A cultivated paradise, designed to be beautiful and safe only because they wanted it to be.

“Think so?”  He asks softly.  He sounds so deep and warm, but… a little distant.  You’re able to hear it in his words.  You don’t know why, though.  Doesn’t he believe you?  Perhaps… perhaps this isn’t The Way.  Perhaps this is part of a completely different oath, one where knowing and loving somebody isn’t the same thing as looking at their face, not at all.  Where you can have them exist entirely separate from each other, because this is love.  This is real, enduring, bone-deep love, and you haven’t ever seen his face, so how would he explain that?  How would the Mandalorians reconcile that?  You bear the mark of the mudhorn, you’ve moved through time and space with him, you’re a mother to his son, and you’ve never seen his face.  It defies both the Mandalorian oath and traditional understandings of love, or it meets them right in the middle, depending on how you look at it.

“I know so.”  For the first time, you think you might sound more confident and certain than he does.  Maybe he doesn’t fully get it yet, but then you suppose he’ll just have to trust you.  “Will you look at the sky?”

“I see it,” Din tells you, but you know he doesn’t.  Not the way you want him to.  And stars, you just want so many things for him, don’t you?  The sky, fresh air, water, light, food, rest.  You want him to see the galaxy the way you do—have a new appreciation for the gifts that are given just because you’re alive to experience them.  All the physics and mathematics aligned perfectly for it to happen—all the chemistry, the systems, the dynamics that dictate the universe, they all got together and crafted a world where you, him, and the kid all exist together at the same time.  You want him to know the significance of that.

“With color?”  You ask, knowing his answer before he seems to.

“I…”  Din wants to argue, or at least say it again.  He can’t or he’ll lose you, he already told you he doesn’t want to turn the setting off.  It’s such an unnecessary conflict, but you want to respect it so much that you’re willing to give up things of your own to make it happen.

“How do I fix it then?”  You whisper, so desperately wanting this one thing for him, this one grandeur to behold.  How do you fix this problem?  How do you convince him to look with you?  You’d offer to just go and find him instead of continuing to run away for the next few hours, but you know the show will be over soon and you don’t have much time left.  “Do you want me to come look for you?  It’ll be too late by then, you’re too far away.  Look at the sky.”

It’s silent for a moment—truly silent, even though colorful bombs are going off above the bay.  You don’t know why you’ve attached yourself to this so strongly, but it’s almost devastating when you don’t get a response.  You look away from the spectacle for the first time in an eternity, gazing unseeingly into the crowd of onlookers with a sudden sadness taking hold of you.  He won’t look, he’s too stubborn, he holds onto things too tightly.

But then, a flurry of flares start launching in rapid succession from the distant boats, screaming and crying on their way up and then igniting into showers of light, and the abrupt increase in activity manages to catch your attention once again.  This must be the end, they saved the best for last.  Every corner of the horizon flashes and sparks, and you’re mesmerized at how bright it is, how many colors they’ve managed to fit into one single frame.

“It’s beautiful,” comes his voice, and the smile that you break into feels just right for the brilliance of the view above you.  Maker, it is, isn’t it?  Now you can hear it—he sounds like he’s looking at it too, with color, in all its breathtaking glory, and you feel like you’re flying.  Like he picked you up and let you watch up close, like you can feel his armor under your fingers right now as he carries you through the sky.

It swells up inside you, a rising wave similar to the ones you can see in the distance, and you know you probably shouldn’t say it because it’s not in your best interest to say it right now, but you have to say it anyways.  It’s an unknowable compulsion, a need to connect and communicate directly with him but for your sake, not presently, not at this exact moment in time.

Luckily, you mute your comm just in time and simply give the words to him from very far away.

“Hurry up,” you say, sending the sentiment into the sky with all your love, and the conflicting hope that he won’t take the advice until a bit later on.  “Come and find me.”

***

Day 5–7:37pm:

After the fireworks are over, people start to drift off in separate directions, clearing the traffic and congestion from the streets around you.  Someone puts their hand on your shoulder and you blink a few times, spinning around and almost stepping on a bunch of tiny little feet by accident.

Stars, that’s a lot of children.  They’re all crowded around Naydee, who pats a few heads and almost buckles under the younglings clinging to her leg.

“Figured you would be long gone by now,” she grins at you from behind her mask, and you’re reminded to pull yours up over your face just from looking at her.  “It’s late—we’re going back to the Keja.”

“Oh, shit,” you breathe in surprise, but the noise of the gradually dispersing crowd manages to cover it up.  At least from younger, more easily distracted ears, but you think Naydee hears you.  Her dark eyes roll good-naturedly, looking happy but exhausted from the long day.  You’re going to have to say goodbye now.

“What happened to your family?”  She asks after a moment, and you think she’s being careful with the way she says it, likely because family is a difficult topic to navigate in general around some of the children hanging on her and begging for her attention.  “Have you been in touch with them?  If not, I’m sure you can come back with us.  It’ll be late by the time we get there, but at least you’ll be safe.”

You open your mouth to automatically decline her offer, knowing Din is still in the crowded city looking for you and wanting to stay where there’s lots of people.

But then… well, he would expect you to do that, wouldn’t he?

There’s more people here.  More danger, but better places to hide.  It’s the obvious choice, it’s the one that makes the most logical sense.  But you’d also be completely alone and you’re assuming the only reason he hasn’t snatched you up yet—which you know he could’ve done multiple times by now, is likely because you’re with a group of innocent foundlings, moody teenagers, and very stern older women.  He probably doesn’t realize you’ve told them about him and the kid, though you were slightly vague on the details.

It’s also a little over three hours to get back, but you’re banking on it being closer to four with how whiney and tired some of the small voices sound, others sounding like they’re an enormous sugar rush contained into a tiny little capsule.  Would he have the gall to try and get you right from under their noses?  Will he even know you left the city, or will he assume you made the smartest decision possible and simply account for it ahead of time?  No, you're overthinking it, just make a decision and stick with it.

“There’s also free food,” Naydee shrugs while you’re still considering, but… well, that settles that.  Almost three days of friendship and she already knows exactly how to win you over in the end.  Sustenance for your empty tummy, an escort the entire way there, and heavily guarded walls beyond.  Din will have to get creative in response—you flaunted your imagination for days, coming up with dozens of evasion tactics to outlast him, but this one just seems… incredibly practical.  Exploiting a weakness of his—isolating it, having it be reinforced by precedent, and then taking advantage of it.  You bet he’ll catch on, but still, it’ll make it more difficult for him, and you’re grasping at straws to hang on just a little longer.

“I…”  Quick, come up with something.  You clear your throat.  “The city is too crowded, I haven’t been able to find them.  I could just… tell them where I’m headed and see if they can find me along the way?”

Naydee smiles and nods.  “Sounds perfect.”

Yet, the entire walk back… you keep thinking you’re going to feel Din trailing behind you, waiting to feel the nerves twist in your tummy and your palms to sweat, but you don’t.  You keep glancing over your shoulder and then down at your wrist, needing to talk yourself out of addressing him through the comm to let him know exactly what the plan is.  You like maintaining a sense of secrecy from the new characters you’ve met on your adventures—Naydee, Karga, Peli—almost everyone you’ve been introduced to, you found a way to find a subtle enjoyment in hiding certain things from them.  But with Din, you don’t have any walls.  They crumbled nearly a full year ago when he silently pushed a cauterizer in your hand and took his armor off for you, and you’ve felt the inexplicable need to bare yourself to him in return ever since.  It would be to your extreme detriment to do it now, but you still have to fight the urge.

Even if you don’t feel him following, you still find yourself acting like he is.  Constantly turning back to double check the road behind you, drifting off in the middle of shallow, distant conversations with tiny foundlings who can’t tell the difference, keeping towards the middle of the pack this time to avoid being picked off towards the back.  The belltower at the orphanage is loud and will ring for quite a distance, so your timing has to be utterly pristine for this to all work out.  You eye your comm the entire way there, trying to stall just the right amount to avoid any realizations or fall into any traps he may be setting for you.

You eventually leave the city walls far behind you, and now you have no clue where he is.  You lost him, and maybe that’s why you feel your heart beat insanely fast the whole time.  He could be anywhere now.  Behind you, adjacent, parallel—you can’t decide where to look, but it keeps you wide awake and focused while the group tiredly travels back to the temple.

***

Day 5–11:32pm:

You can see it in the distance, the brick buildings slowly coming into view.  One might think your stress would have worked itself out by now, been brought back to a manageable level after four hours of walking, but you’ve been on red alert for the past hour or so.  Any movement or rustle that doesn’t come from the sleepy children or exhausted caretakers, you’re on top of it, snapping your attention to the offending tree or animal and not being able to relax even after affirming it’s just nature, it’s not shiny metal bounding after you in the darkness, ready to take you down.

The infants are all likely snoozing away in the nursery, and the Sister who volunteered to stay behind and look after them comes to greet the group at the gate as you approach.  Like always, two Brothers open the iron bars to allow you inside, and you feel the anxiety dig its claws into your tummy.  If Din is going to get you, this is the very last moment to do it.  These walls are guarded and you’re nervous for him, you’re nervous for yourself—you’re just fucking nervous.  Jumpy and worried, not being able to pinpoint him anymore and feeling all the more anxious because of it.

It doesn’t feel right.  Nothing feels right about this, but you can’t figure out specifically what’s wrong.  This was the exact plan, this was a way for you to just survive these last few hours and yet, it doesn’t feel right that you actually succeeded in doing so.  It doesn’t make sense that he’d allow you to return all the way here, especially when he was close enough to touch you earlier.  Din has had so much time to snatch you up, so many opportunities to lure you away, confront you—anything to catch you, and he hasn’t done it yet.  Why?  Either you truly did escape and he has no idea where you are, which doesn’t feel right, or he’s choosing not to get you for whatever reason, which also doesn’t feel right.  What’s he waiting for?  You can’t have won.  It was all too fucking easy, you’re expecting to see him around every single corner because he should be there, he shouldn’t have allowed this to happen.

When someone gently touches your elbow, you’re so on edge that you nearly whip around in surprise.

“Sorry!”  Naydee immediately apologizes, taking her hand back to lift her hood and remove the mask covering her face.  “Didn’t mean to scare you!  I was just going to say that the commissary is still open,” she offers, and you watch the small group of hungry teenagers break off from the group to make their way there.  “It’s going to take awhile to get the children ready for bed, so we’ll be in the dormitories if you need to sleep.  Otherwise, I’m not sure I’ll see you again.”

You stare at her and blink a few times, trying to readjust your focus.  She’s your new friend, she just said this was likely the last time you’ll see each other, but you can’t stop thinking about Din.  Imagine he’s hours away in the city right now, still looking for you.  You’re trying to evaluate your priorities here, but you truthfully never expected to get this far.  Inside the gates, surrounded by brick buildings and silent guards.  You know your way around here, you know hiding spots, you know how to outlast—it’s incredibly advantageous for you to be inside these walls.  What is he doing?

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you give Naydee a quick hug and she happily accepts it.  “I’m sure we’ll meet again at some point.”

She smiles and nods, pulling back and letting a couple grumpy foundlings catch her robes and yank on them impatiently.  The loud group eventually disappears into the dorms, and the door shutting behind them cuts off the tired crying and chatty voices determined to stay awake, leaving you in silence that feels slightly unfamiliar after going without it for so long.

Fuck, you just need to breathe.  As soon as the dead quiet grips the air around you, you realize you need to relax.  You’re way too fucking wound up; you want to bolt at the smallest thing and the sudden silence of being alone multiplies it to the point where you have to remind yourself of its importance.  Breathe.  Focus.  There’s about fifteen minutes before the bells ring, fifteen more minutes and the chase will be all over.

Can you eat?  You thought you’d want to, but you think you’re too fucking antsy.  You can’t stay here alone, that’s for sure, but you also don’t want to be around all the children right now.  The commissary will have a handful of people wandering around, teens snacking and maybe a Brother or two standing guard.  It’s the best place to wait the clock out, so you make your way there.  The gentle breeze billows around your loose robes, your pantlegs swishing as you walk.

A few minutes later, you’ve got a plate of food in front of you but your mask is still up, and you’re just sitting there.  Towards the back of the large room, sitting by yourself at one of the tables and staring down at your communicator.  Five minutes.  You have five fucking minutes left before he finds you.  Can you feel him?  Is he closing in?

You sit up a bit straighter, taking a deep breath.  Focus on that feeling from earlier.  The presence in your chest, the weight that didn’t used to be there months ago—focus on that feeling and branch it outwards.  Can you feel him?

Something catches your eye.

Or no… it doesn’t, does it?  Nothing is out of place here, nothing is visibly wrong or amiss.  The only thing that’s changed from all the times before is how dark it is through the windows, and how there are only a few kids in here grabbing a midnight snack instead of being packed like usual.  Nothing else.

But there’s… there’s an acolyte in the far corner, standing guard with his back to the wall.  It’s not his presence that gives you pause—you expected him to be here, there’s always been at least one present whenever you’ve sat down to eat.  He doesn’t look any different from the rest of the Brothers you’ve passed by this evening or the days before—tall, silent, dark brown robes, hooded and mysterious—so why do you suddenly feel yourself break out into a cold sweat as soon as your eyes land on him?

Bubbling laughter and chatter echoes through the large room from one of the tables near the entrance—seven teenagers stuffing their faces with food and sharing animated conversation with each other now that it’s late and they’re alone—but your stomach twists and your fingers start to tremble as you slowly rise from your seat in the back.  You want to keep your head down and be casual but it’s impossible, you desperately need to keep looking at that silent guard in particular and your heart kicks up in your chest—

—and then it wrenches sideways when you’re carefully backing away from the table and the offending acolyte takes a single step forwards.

Run.  Everything in you screams for you to run, and it’s rarely done that before, but you can’t.  Not yet, you don’t want to draw attention, and the logical part of your mind rages against your gut instinct to haul ass.  He’s here—of course he is, the thought screams through your veins as you try to weave quickly in between tables, feeling light on your toes and readying yourself to run as soon as you can.  The dark figure seems to find a careful pace behind you, staying just far enough behind and walking in perfect silence, and you have so many fucking questions but you can’t even think a single thing beyond run away, run away.  Where’s the kid?  How did he get those robes?  Did he actually take his helmet off just to get to you in a room where anyone could confront him?

Your feet propel you forward as soon as you make it out of the door, you break out into a sprint—just flat out bolting because you know how fucking fast he is and you need as big a headstart as you can get.

You race down the stairs and through the courtyard, the beautiful surroundings contrasting drastically with the way you’re running for your fucking life through them.  It’s not beautiful to you right now; you feel clumsy and physically unable to move fast enough no matter how quick you go, your eyes are wide and every nerve is on fire and you can’t even tell if he’s behind you anymore with how silently he moves, but you just trust that he is and keep barreling forward.  Your breath puffs against the clinging fabric of your mask as you keep sprinting, willing your legs to pump faster.  Get to the belltower at least, get to where you have the smallest chance of being caught by the people who guard this place.

As soon as you allow yourself to even conceive the possibility, two Brothers in dark hooded robes suddenly turn the corner a little ways in front of you and your reaction time is perfect—you jerk to a halt and take a single step forward as soon as they spot you.  Since your momentum already committed you to it, you just have to walk, keep your head down, move directly past them and hope Din disappeared from behind you in time.

Step, step, step—keep going, control your breathing, you’re okay, you’re allowed to be up late tonight and they shouldn’t stop you.  Walk right by…  Stars, you feel their silent stares as you casually pass, and it just feels so cold and analytical compared to the kind of danger Din is gives off when dressed in the exact same clothing.  He’s hard and tangible and an unrelenting force, where they just feel like ghosts that haunt this place.  The threat they present is impersonal and detached, but the terror currently chasing after you is so real that he can read your mind.

You wipe the sweat from your brow as soon as you turn the corner, and your feet are already starting to speed up on their own knowing you’re out of their sight.  Run, get to the belltower before Din does, you can see it standing tall about a hundred feet away.  The stairs leading to the door come closer and closer, but you hear something behind you and it propels you faster.  It’s like you can feel him right at your heels even though you haven’t seen him, snapping at your ankles even though your footsteps are the only ones you can hear anymore.

You scramble up the stairs and close the door behind you, spinning around and facing it even as you slowly retreat backwards into the moonlit tower, trying to stay quiet.  Breathing through your nose, eyes shifting around the enclosed space, continuing to back up and away from the door.  Where is he?  There are so many windows that allow you to look outside, but why can’t you spot his movement through them?  Wasn’t he right behind you?

Behind you.

There’s no reason or logic at all to it; you just react.  Spinning around and throwing a mean punch.

Din jerks back just in time to miss it, twisting and dodging at the very last second to avoid your next few hits—but… things seem to slow down, even if they’re happening so fast.  The moonlight cascades through the dozens of windows lining the circular walls and it shines just enough to reveal small glimpses of him.  With every aggressive strike from you, you see something else—you see a flash of his chin when you try to uppercut, you aim for his chest and you see a bit of his jaw.  When you go for his jaw, he steps sideways and catches your wrist, and you see the bend of his nose catch the light this time.

But then it’s like he finally figures out that you’re actually fighting him, and now he’s coming for you.  Trained and ruthless, not weighed down by any armor and lightning quick, launching perfectly aimed attacks that you’re only able to avoid from reaction and muscle memory alone.  You block or move whenever he strikes, you attack whenever you see an opening, you sidestep at the same time he does—

Until you land a spin kick directly to the center of his chest and snap your leg to shove him back, your heel smashing into that soft spot right above his stomach with dead precision and brute force.  He exhales sharply and takes a few more steps back to steady himself while you pause to catch your breath.

Din abruptly comes back and you fall into it with him again, keeping a sharp rhythm with each other that’s faster, harder, and way more real than any sparring match you’ve ever shared.  The hours and days in hyperspace you spent practicing with him are but a fraction of what he’s throwing at you right now, the combinations so rapid and blurred that you just have to trust your knowledge of him and his movement through the dark.

But then, your downfall.  Bells begin ringing an earsplittingly familiar melody above you, and it shatters your concentration—you falter just as he grabs you and sweeps your feet out, and though you know how to get out of that, you’re not quick enough on the jump nor counterswing to prevent it.  He takes you to the ground, hard, and then your wrists are being pinned together above your head and your mask is being tugged down.

Din’s mouth on yours makes you want to cry.

The whole thing is like coming home.  You spent a week surrounded by strangers and having them call you by a name not given to you, fending for yourself, and now here he is.  Someone who knows who you really are, someone that wants to care for you.  Tears come to your eyes even as they're pressed tightly shut, and Din kisses you like he’s never known anything else.  His mouth fits to yours as if the Maker made your lips before ever considering the rest of you, his bare hand clutching your jaw and forcing you to open for him, letting him lick deep inside after going so many days without it.  It might feel dominant and overwhelming if it happened to any other person, but through it, you can also taste his desperation and weakness, how soft he is even when he’s squeezing your jaw and squishing your wrists together too tightly.

Rigid steel that bends only for your touch.

He pulls back and your heart throbs at how moonlight continues to bathe just the smallest glimpses of him under the hood—never the full thing, never the whole face, but enough.  The quiet light that brushes the arch of his nose, how it bathes the hard line of his jaw so that you can barely see his scruff when he turns his head the right way.  His eyes are hidden in near darkness but there’s the faintest glimmer where they should be, and it’s the closest you’ve ever been to looking at him without the helmet.  You can see him, you can see shadows of his chin, his neck—dear stars, his fucking neck.  You’re pinned and paralyzed under him and the ringing bells, yet you feel like you just might float if he wasn’t holding you so tight to the floor.

“Where’s the baby?”  You finally lift your chin and ask, needing to raise your voice over the melody clanging loud throughout the tower.

“Making friends,” Din pants back down at you, and… stars, then you just start giggling.  Adrenaline turning into pure joy, imagining the kid wreaking havoc with all the other babies in the nursery right now.  It feels more light and airy than anything your body should know.

“What are you so happy about?” He asks, swallowing and then continuing on with the same quick gasps.  “You lost, I caught you in time.”

“Did you?”  You drop your head to the brick floor and ask, biting your lip as he stares back down at you.  Suddenly—

—Bong—

Din holds utterly still over you while you take a quick breath and wait for the next eleven bells… 

…but then break into a slow grin up at him when nothing but utter silence follows.

There’s a moment.  Just a single moment where the cogs turn rapidly under that shadowy hood, one where the faint reflection of light in his eyes flickers down to the communicator on your wrist that says midnight and back to you, one that solidifies the longer it takes for another bell to ring.  It’s not going to.

One o’clock.

You think he puts it together.  The one moment he was never able to figure you out—when you tried reprogramming the comms just a few days ago.  The one trick up your sleeve that you resigned to throw away and almost forget about because the circumstances for pulling it off were never realistic.  Fuck with the electronics and set the clock back just one hour—all you’d need to do is reset his communicator, the timecode is synced together.  He told you before that it’s connected to his helmet, but all the buttons still work.  Rapid, panicky thinking and a wild surge of bravery in the face of certain downfall is the only reason you were able to pull it off, and you’re perfectly willing to admit you just got lucky… especially when he’s still holding dead still over you.

But then Din moves so suddenly.  You can’t account for it because there’s no build-up whatsoever—it’s so fast, you yelp while he grabs your knees and throws them both to one side.  You flop over sideways and large hands reach up under the draping length of your tunic to yank your pants down over the curve of your ass, before he’s fitting his palm up between your legs and pushing two thick fingers inside you.

Your head thunks back against brick with how unexpected and merciless it is, but his other hand is grabbing your jaw and twisting, forcing you to look up, stare right into the dark shadow under the loose cowl.  The whole thing is too overwhelming—you’re trying to keep quiet but your breathing feels like thunder crashing inside this tall, echoing chamber.  He’s touched you so many times, he knows exactly how to do it by now, but it feels like so much more than that.  Probably because you can see the way Din’s mouth silently falls open as he feels you, stretching his fingers up and hooking them tight inside.  You can tell when he closes his eyes, the smallest glint slowly disappearing into nothingness while the hand around your jaw blindly moves up.  It catches your chin and lips, and then two fingers push over the bottom edge of your teeth to slip into your mouth.

Your entire leg twitches and jerks while you lay sideways on the ground and open up for him, your neck twisted at a sharp angle to keep your eyes on him and his fingers in your mouth, giving you something to bite to stop making noise.  Din makes room for himself inside you two different ways, and you just choke on his fingers and try to stay quiet, praying he’ll go deeper.

But then you’re not expecting his whole fucking arm to start moving the way it does—oh fuck, what is that?  First you just feel jostled and displaced, but then suddenly a wicked, deep, burning pleasure starts to roar through you, radiating outwards from the rapid motion of just two fingers inside you.  It’s not in and out, it’s up and down so hard and quick against your g-spot that your eyes cross and your hands go numb.

You think you grab at him, clutch onto his arm or chest and open your mouth to moan at the new and overwhelming sensation, but his hand pushes up against your chin and closes it for you, the bend of his fingers caught hard between your teeth but you don’t think he cares.

“Quiet,” Din hisses the word down at you while his arm continues to work, your toes starting to curl as the feeling overwhelms you.  Fuck, what is happening, what is happening?  It’s like he’s just shoving unfamiliar sensation at you so forcefully that you can’t even think straight anymore, not even ten seconds in.  You can only feel the pleasure, fire blurring hot and shapeless through your entire body as your eyes clamp shut, his fingers isolating that perfect spot and stimulating it directly, relentlessly.

Something dull and white hot presses up tight against all the muscles you have down there and you’re almost afraid of how strong it is.  You gasp and choke and he has to take his fingers out of your mouth and just clamp down around your entire jaw, sealing the whole thing shut with his large hand.  And then Din’s fingers leave your pussy too—and stars, you should be embarrassed by how desperately it clamps around nothing for as long as it does.  He’s not even inside you anymore but your body is on such a delay from the hot, twisting pleasure, and he doesn’t put them back in until your muscles are finished spasming.

Everything comes back full force as soon as he starts moving again.  Noise starts to come from your throat, humming in your vocal cords to deal with the arcing, swirling build, and so Din just moves his hand there instead.  He finds where it’s vibrating from your neck and he pushes up against it, trapping the sound right at the source.  He’s fucking perfect at it for some reason… how many times must he have done this to know how to cut noise out without stopping airflow?  You clutch at his wrist and silently mouth his name, feeling his arm work between your legs—faster, faster, harder, pushing you higher, higher—

Din pulls his fingers out again and this time, one of your thighs suddenly feels warm and wet while you spasm and you hear him growl out a ragged, “Fuck yes.”  Everything is sparks zapping through you long after his touch is gone, you cry out but it’s all trapped under Din’s expert grip.  His fingers soon push back inside you and you dig your nails into his forearm, your sounds muffled and quiet enough to hear his raspy groan.  

“Let me see it again,” Din breathes, his arm starting to work up and down once more, and you don’t even know what he’s talking about anymore.  What does he want to see?  You losing your mind again?  Being reduced to an utter mess in front of his shadowy but unobstructed gaze just because you managed to pull one over on him?

Fucking… apparently.  It’s what happens, after all.  You’ve never seen him like this before; whenever he’s worked up and taking it out on you, there was always something in it for him, too.  He’d hammer into you and rock your world until his eventually shattered, and then you’d both lay exhausted afterwards, equally affected and satisfied.  This isn’t like that—this is just cruel, targeted retribution on his behalf, coaxing the molten pleasure out of you with his fingers and keeping his other hand locked around your throat.  You blink helplessly up at him, your vision starting to blur by the time he leans down to whisper to you.

“I missed you, sweet girl.  Did you miss me?”  It’s so soft and quiet compared to the strength and relentlessness of his movements.  You can’t speak even if you wanted to, but when he finally pulls away to yank his hand out and you feel all your muscles automatically flex outwards and push against the sudden emptiness inside you, his voice groans long and satisfied while your thighs get wet again  “Yeah you did,” he breathes, pushing your shaky legs to the brick with his hand and watching you struggle through the aftershocks.

Did you just cum?  You don’t even know, that’s how fucked up you are right now.  The whole thing felt like an orgasm from the very beginning, just a boiling hot tornado ripping through every single cell in your body, never really having a peak.  If you didn’t cum, then why do you feel so weak?  You feel heavy, your limbs don’t work properly, and you barely even register Din pulling at the fabric of his own robes until he fits himself up against your entrance.

When you do realize it, though… your body burns with it, wrecked already but wanting him to take what he wants from you.

“Oh, plea—” you gasp but you don’t even have enough time to get the full sentence out.  He’s already pushing his hips forward, pressing you tight into the ground and opening you up after what feels like a fucking eternity without him.  It’s the hottest, slickest welcome you could give him, you hear it in the whispered curse his lips brush up under your ear, the wet noises your body makes that get louder the longer you hold the moan in your throat and bury your head into his shoulder.  He throbs thick and perfect inside your tight, spasming cunt, stretching you and smacking the rough ground near your head with how fucking good it is to be back, finally, finally—

Your hands grab uselessly at his chest while you try to acclimate, try to breathe while you’re blind with sensation.  It’s so fitting for him, isn’t it?  That your reunion should be just as physically debilitating as it is mentally.  Din’s voice scrapes on a groan like he’s dragging it across the brick ground as quiet as he can, catching when you clamp down on him and shuddering when you clamp down harder.  That’s just it—you don’t ever loosen, you just keep tightening and tightening around him, threatening to break and cum again.

This feels different from before, though.  It’s deep, purposefully so.  His hand reaches up to push the fabric of your hood back, lifting himself up over your body and wanting to start as deep as he can.  You feel him in a place you’d never be able to reach and that’s just the beginning—that’s before he starts thrusting into you, hitting a dull sensation at the apex of each movement so hard that it becomes sharp.  His hips don’t make practically any sound smacking into you because they don’t really smack, they just rock downwards and fuck you into the floor without needing to pull out really at all.  You know he’s just trying to keep it as quiet as possible, but what he lacks in speed and agility he makes up in power.

You don’t even realize you’re making too much noise until a palm wraps tight around your mouth and the room gets a little emptier.  Din keeps you all to himself on the floor, silencing as much as he’s working you up, smothering as much as he’s freeing you.  There’s no easing up, no dragging it out, no gradual build or climb—it’s just there all of a sudden, pleasure and pain pummeling you all at once, engulfing you in flames.

You reach up to grab at the loose fabric of the hood over his face, catching a fistful of it before his hand suddenly snatches your shaky wrist and pins it back to the ground.

Maker, you forgot—oh, you completely forgot about how many people could find you right now if they ever decided to look in the right place.  You’re not in hyperspace; your body is rocking against rough brick, you’re probably going to have a lump on the back of your head from how terrible you are at trying to map out heaven while holding still.  He’s pinned down what he can with one hand; your fingers are the only things that can move besides how tight you can curl your toes, but you feel your moans turn into words against his palm.  They garble indistinctly and you’re not really even sure what you’re saying, but Din decides it’s worth hearing.

“Shh,” he whispers, slowly lifting his hand from your mouth.  “Shh, tell me—”

“W-wanna look,” you hear yourself whimper, trying your best to keep quiet but wanting to scream it while he fucks you hard and slow on the ground, “—I wanna see, I wanna look at you—”

“Fuck,” Din gasps, and though his grip tightens on your wrist and you know he can’t do it right this second, the words seem like they shatter something inside him, “Keep—oh fuck, please, k-keep saying…”

“I want to marry you,” you nearly whine for him, feeling his hips kick up rapidly and start hammering in and out, in and out, in and—“I want to see your face, I wanna be yours, I don’t want anyone else to know you the way I-I—”

You think he drops his head into your neck to muffle his own sounds.  Though they start out rough and quiet and indiscernible, but they gradually become louder as he repeats himself over and over again, growling and fucking you rough.  You only catch it on the peak, when he pulls his mouth away from your skin and gasps them raggedly one last time.

“—ve you—I l-love y—”

He kisses you to stop himself.  But it’s not really a kiss, it’s more desperate than that.  Though it’s beautiful, it’s beautiful in a different light.  It’s not rejoicing at having you back with him once again; it’s a last prayer begging you to stay by his side forever.  He loves you.  He gives it everything—it feels even more concrete and simple than taking the hood off him and revealing his face would.  You told you that you'd know him without ever seeing him, and you did.  You picked him out and found him when absolutely nothing was giving him away, and this feels like a manifestation of that.  Even if you’re not in a place where he can show you his face, his beautiful brown eyes, something still feels like it changes.  He loves you.  You gasp into his mouth and his tongue sinks deep into yours, tenacious and brave and unyielding.  

When you finally cum, you almost bite him on accident.  

Everything surges hot and molten while he pulls back and keeps fucking you through it, and you can’t tell where you’re touching him anymore, just that his skin is blazing hot under your hand and he feels like everything the armor isn’t.  He loves you.  You’re looking into his eyes right now.  You can’t see any of the details, not really, but the moonlight flickers like silent stars moving through dark depths, staring right back at you and giving you an anchor for the euphoria rocketing through you.  He loves you.  Your nails dig in sharp and slowly drag downwards, scratching hard red lines into whatever thick muscle that is—

The back of his neck, making his hips stutter and when he cums for you, he does bite.

You lift your head just in time to feel his teeth catch your chin instead of your mouth, and his entire body shakes while you keep dragging your nails down the side of his neck and his throat.  Din fucking lives for it, he releases you and arches into the pain and owns your marks like he wishes you made them deeper, stretching his neck and lifting his chin into the moonlight and—

Maker.  You can see it, with direct light, you can see more of it than ever before.  You can see his soft lips and white teeth gritting the sound of your name as quietly as he can, the dark facial hair dusting across the lower half of his face.  A fucking gorgeous jawline and throat extended long over you, flexing hard with his cock pulsing inside you.  You can just barely see the bottom of his nose from under the brown hood, the dark curls brushing up under his ears.

Stars, you still never see his eyes, the fabric of his hood acts like a blindfold draped over them, but you think you cum again.  Even if it’s on accident, it’s mean—Din tries to keep from squishing you and his hand pushes down hard against your lower tummy while he shoves his hips deep one last time, and you cum while staring at half of his face in the moonlight.  Completely lovestruck.

How can he be this beautiful when you’ve only seen fractions of him?  You have everything but the eyes now, everything but the most mysterious thing about him, the reflection into his deepest self, but you feel like you’re hypnotized by every single feature you do see.  His tongue coming out to wet his lips, the vein pulling under his sharp jaw—he’s gorgeous, he’s gorgeous, and your body agrees.  It shakes and shudders under him and eventually, Din finishes and you keep looking as his chin slowly lowers, face disappearing into the shadow once more.

Stars.  He’s so handsome and no one has ever told him, fucking dreamy and the biggest grump you’ve ever met.  Without being able to see him, you already want to reach your hands out and touch him, drag your nails through his scruff and force him to extend outwards into the moonlight again for you.  Whenever he does end up showing you his face, you know right fucking now that you’ll never be able to look away.  For the rest of your life, you’ll be staring at him, apologizing blankly for your rudeness but not feeling sorry at all.

Din leans down and gives you a slow, gentle kiss, finally relaxing into a slouch and breathing hard with the effort it took to shatter you with pleasure.

“The kid is with the other foundlings,” he whispers against your lips.  “You… you’ll have to go get him, I need to grab my armor.”

You squeeze around his cock, pulling at the fabric of his robes and ignoring him for just a second.  He fucked you in robes belonging to one of the guards and nobody has mentioned it, you need to say something.  “Where did you get this?”

“I found it,” he tells you after a moment, kissing up under your jaw.  Oh fucking Maker, he feels so good and perfect inside you, shoulders so broad and crowding you on the floor, and his lips are plush and hot, brushing and fitting your skin like it’s just an extension of his own.  “Some guy was wearing it.”

It takes you a second.

“Mando,” you suddenly gasp in quiet horror, pushing at his chest and trying your best to detach his mouth from your throat.  It’s so much more difficult than it needs to be, but you eventually succeed.  “What did you do to him?  Where is he?”

He lifts his neck up just the tiniest bit, turning his face towards yours under the hood and holding still for way too fucking long.  He’s too close to see the expression he’s making, but you know the tone of his silence.  He’s in trouble and he knows it before you do.

“Ma—”

“They’re in a closet,” he admits at the very same time, completely monotone.

You don’t know which word to emphasize.  A fucking closet?  They’re?  Plural?  Instead of stressing any particular word, you decide not to do it at all and it ends up just coming out in the same exact blank tone as him.  “They're in a closet.”

“Inside the Temple,” Din continues on when you lay still as a statue underneath him.  His head slowly dips down once more, pushing his hips against you just the slightest bit to make you remember the cock still inside you instead.  Your eyelashes flutter with it—fuck, focus—“I didn’t know there’d be more than two.”  He kisses your neck so gently.  “It was an accident.”

You don’t say anything at all, your mouth pinching down at the corners because it should but your heartbeat galloping with how… fucking sexy he is.  You shouldn’t encourage this, this horrible behavior just to get close enough to catch you, but your curiosity overtakes you and you ask a question you’ve asked yourself before.  “Did they put up a fight?”

“Mm,” he whispers noncommittally, rocking his hips down once more.  “You did.”  Your nails dig into his chest, making him falter just slightly before slowly kissing your neck again.  “Did so good.  Fought hard, outsmarted me.  Pretty fucking girl.”

And then your eyes pop open as you feel it.  His cock suddenly beginning to harden once again inside you, twitching and gradually gaining a thicker shape, and for a moment, you actually fucking consider it.  He’s the only one in this galaxy that could not only ruin you on these sacred grounds, but then coax you into doing it more than once—stars, are you actually considering it?

“We can’t,” you automatically tell him, but it’s fucking pitiful.  Zero effort, absolutely no umph behind it, leaving it entirely up to him and how much he wants it.  Your logic reminds you that the kid is probably wreaking havoc in the nursery and there are tied up guards in the fucking temple that could be discovered any second.  You shouldn’t have even let him fuck you here in the first place, but…  “Mando, we can’t—”

His mouth opens against the crook of your neck and his tongue brushes velvet hot on your skin, tasting the glistening sweat there and not moving his broad figure a single inch over you besides getting closer, deeper.  Your nails dig into his collarbone, aiming for reason one last time.  It’s apparent that you’d be better off rephrasing, knowing the challenging streak in him and how much telling him what to do doesn't help.

“It’s not a good idea,” you attempt instead, breathless and trying not to move under his mouth and lazy hips.  “Not smart.  Bad idea to fuck again.”

Din’s body stops moving, even though he keeps getting harder.  His jaw opens and then his teeth scrape softly against your flesh, making you tilt your neck back and gasp.

“Later,” he lifts his head to state aloud, committing it to truth now that it’s been spoken and heard by another person.  “Later, I’ll fuck you on the ship, in our bed, when I can get you naked and have your taste in my mouth.”

Tingles rock through your body and you squeeze around his cock just as he pulls it out and tucks it back into his pants.  Your lungs quiver when you inhale—it’s shaky, but it reminds you of how long it’s been since you’ve been able to breathe correctly.

“Later,” you finally agree, combing your fingers through your hair and glad you have this hood to cover your freshly fucked dishevelment.  He came inside you and you don’t want to be leaking and getting your nice pretty robes all wet and stained, but then of course, without any prompting, Din quickly scoots back on his knees and drops his head down to take care of it for you.

***

Commotion.

After Din helped you clean up the way he sometimes likes and then disappeared to change back into his armor, you put your mask and hood back on and tried to look as casual as possible walking to the nursery.  Your knees wobbled slightly and you couldn’t stop smiling under the mask the entire walk there, but when you arrived, you just saw a dim room with sleeping infants—not what you were expecting.  Soon, however, you hear it: down the hall, distant and coming from the dormitories, you hear a loud commotion.

Fuck, you’re nearly wincing with every step you take now, and not because you’re sore.  Well, you… are, a little bit, but in a great way.  No, you’re just dreading the ridiculous shinanigans you already know are well underway, wondering if Din actually dropped the kid off in the dorms from the beginning or if he somehow migrated his way there to cause trouble.

When you walk inside, the first thing you see is a handful of crying and shouting toddlers, and while you can’t immediately spot your favorite floppy-eared monster, you don’t have to see him to know he’s probably standing tiny directly in the middle of this tense showdown.  Automatically, you’re taking a few steps forward to rescue him, but then you stop as soon as you see what the other babies are so mad about.  A large piece of chocolate leftover from the festival levitating just beyond their pitiful little reaches.

Hm.  Who could possibly be responsible for using demon powers to steal snacks and hold them hostage from a sizeable group of hostile children.  A mystery that may never be solved.

It makes you take a second.  The sheer… the… stars, you can’t even think straight—how fucking typical it is just hits you right in the chest, sends your heart into orbit.  Of course.  Of course this is what he’s gotten himself into without immediate supervision, of course this is the shipwreck you’d walk into, and you’re holding back a chuckle before making a single move to intervene.  In the midst of everything, you can hear adults approaching distantly from behind you.

“—don’t know where it came from, I was helping the younglings into bed when I heard the ruckus and I—”

The voices gradually grow louder, and you snatch the floating piece of candy out of thin air and whip around right before Sister Drya and Naydee walk in.  Their hushed, concerned conversation is cut to an abrupt end, and you clear your throat as they take you in, standing in front of chaos central continuing to go off behind you.  Do you… look as freshly disheveled as you are?  You’re not supposed to be here, you know, but hopefully the only strange thing is your presence itself and not anything concerning your appearance.

“Nerida,” the older lady suddenly announces, the name alone holding so much expectation, and the younglings missing their candy have now turned their ire towards you and the crinkly food wrapper hidden in your fist.  “What is the meaning of this?”

“Ah, yeah,” you stand up a little straighter, letting the chocolate casually fall out of your grip behind you, and a stampede of feet suddenly kick up to recover it.  It’s fine, nobody will know, it’s fine.  “It’s just…”  Your head tips behind you to the cause of the uproar, feeling a bit sheepish yet so incredibly fond.  “My… kid.”

Sister Drya stares at you for a few seconds, before tipping sideways and staring at the culprit.  “That is your child?”

You turn around just in time to see him, now abandoned by the angry mob of children, finally notice you.  All of a sudden, his pitch black eyes light up something bright and sunshiney, and you just start beaming in return.  What an adorable little creature, apple of your eye and pain of your ass.

“Yep,” you sigh, dropping into a squat and watching him barrel towards you, catching him right before he can trip over his brown potato sack and scooping him up into your arms.  “Hiya, bug,” you murmur with a grin, lifting back up and plopping him in his favorite spot in the universe—your left hip.  “You making friends?”

He giggles and it’s like sparkles and bubbles fill the room instead, wrapping tiny arms around the largest surface area he can get and clinging.  He laughs with a tiny open mouth, bless him, clearly not understanding the sarcasm, and suddenly your eyes feel just the slightest bit wet.  No, you’re not crying, don’t be fucking ridiculous, but you missed him like hell and he’s just the cutest fucking thing—why do you feel like crying?

“Sorry about that,” you apologize to the two women while slowly turning around, brushing your thumb over one of his cheeks and smiling as it squishes.  “He’s… uh.  Not great at sharing.  We’ll work on it.”

Takes after his dad, you purposefully leave out, just a different kind of sharing.  Din hasn’t shown you his full face yet and the kid performs magic tricks to taunt a roomful of children a fraction of his age for a single piece of chocolate, completely different kind of sharing.

Sister Drya says something in response, but when you look up to address her, all you see is Din standing silently behind her and Naydee, slowly dropping his hand from his helmet to his side.  They don’t seem to notice he’s there and you automatically try your best to pay attention to the Sister speaking to you, but your eyes get caught on the silver reflecting in the dim light beyond.  Fuck, he’s a presence.  An immediate distraction, taking all your focus with a single glimpse.  Seeing him fully armored again, staring at you from the silent shadows behind everything… you melt a little bit, knowing that you’ve seen more of what’s underneath than anyone.  Your shoulders settle and your entire body burns warm, wobbly like the air around a fire, and one of the kid’s hands leaves you to reach out towards his dad.

You watch the metallic helmet tilt sideways after a moment, saying everything without saying anything.  Come on, make up an excuse, let’s get out of here.

Looking at him in the quiet shadows, you’re reminded once again about how much you love him, how much softness you have inside you for a man so hard, so guarded.  And, for the first time, a voice in your head finishes a poem you didn’t realize you were writing, adding its own verse and bringing everything back around to the beginning.  He loves you, too.  How much he lets his guard down for you, the way he’s revealed more of his face to you than not.  You love each other.  You’re family.

So, all at once, you decide to mess with him, because that’s what family does best.

“Don’t be shy, come say hello,” you suddenly urge his silent figure, taking a step forward and speaking directly to him.  “Sister Drya, Naydee, I’d like to introduce you to my—”

It’s remarkable, you see it happen in front of you.  Like he has powers of his own, Din just literally fucking disappears.  Like magic, he’s nowhere to be found within a blink of an eye.  You know he’s capable of it; he’s done it plenty of times during the chase just to fuck with your head, but you’re staring straight at him when it happens this time and it might just be the funniest fucking thing you’ve ever seen him do.

Sister Drya and Naydee both turn around to an empty hallway bathed in shadows and you laugh.  A deep, shameless, loud belly laugh.  Where the fuck did he go so quick?  You were staring straight at him and you have no fucking clue.  He’s just out, and you’re left alone with his child and the unspoken understanding that he’ll just catch up with you later.

You’re giggling even as you shake your head and give the women your genuine thanks for keeping you and feeding you these past few days, grabbing your backpack with all your belongings and eventually using three green fingers to wave goodbye to them.  The very first thing Din says when he seamlessly joins you outside the Keja later is, “That wasn’t funny,” which just makes you laugh harder.

***

About a half hour has passed, and you’re walking along a dirt road, cradling a very happy baby in your arms and giving the grown man next to you an incredibly hard time.

“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, your back twinging slightly at the way you’re leaning about as sideways as you can get without falling over.  You think you’re basically just the hypotenuse between the ground and Din, who easily supports almost your entire weight with your backpack slung around his far shoulder and readily allows you to rest against him.

“They’re fine,” he grumbles in response, squeezing you tight to his side.  You just have to focus on moving your feet; it’s like he’s practically carrying your upper-half anyways.  “I gave them the night off.”

“You stuffed them in a closet,” you hiss, feeling his shoulder shrug under your cheek.

“I gave them the robe back,” he says, not really defending himself and more just throwing it out there to see if it helps any.  “I’m sure someone’s found them by now, they’re fine.”

Your eyes suddenly go wide, absolutely mortified at the thought.  “Wait.  What do you mean you gave the robe back?”

He shrugs once more, apparently not seeing the problem yet.  “I borrowed it, so I gave it back after I put my armor back on.”

If you could plant your feet on the dirt road and screech to a halt, you would, but all your weight is already resting on him and you’re working solely off his forward movement.  You just hope your tone holds the same amount of shocked disapproval your body language would’ve conveyed if you weren’t so completely attached to his hip like a parasite he adores.

“You fucked me wearing it, though.”  Your voice is strangely flat, so fucking confused and horrified by the mental image of him just tossing the soiled garments haphazardly somewhere in the temple behind you, or even worse, leaving them somewhere respectful, and Din soon stops in the middle of the deserted road.

“Oh,” is all he says, emotionless and blank through the modulator.  Did he not even consider this?

“I had to promise them I was a virgin just to sleep there, you know,” you admit, and you can tell that’s brand new information to him with how still he goes as you continue to lean against him.  You’re getting the feeling that he probably knows a lot more about your experiences on this moon than you think he does, but can tell that this is brand new information to him.  “And you locked three of their holy men in a closet, chased me across the temple grounds, fucked me in one of their robes, and then.  You gave it.  Back.”

Din stays perfectly silent for quite some time.  You can never go back to that place, you know this for a fact.  You’re banned forever now, it’s what you deserve.

Never one to be outdone but not actually having anything to say for himself, Din suddenly decides to just scoop you into his arms and boost up into the sky without a single word like an actual fucking maniac.

You squeal and damn near drop the baby because of it, but he cinches you tight to his chest and refuses to loosen with your struggle.  Eventually, after you realize he’s completely locked you in and you won’t fall to your death with this poor innocent child in your arms, you glance over the shiny pauldron on his shoulder and watch the kid’s crib disappear by the abandoned road as Din takes you higher and higher.

The crib—he forgot the crib—

“D-Din,” you stammer out through the whistling air, stiff as a board.  Stars, you have such a different sense of adventure than him; an explorer and a daredevil, one who gets a thrill from discovering the existence of the edge of a cliff and one who’ll take a running dive off of it without thinking twice.  He’s hit with blaster fire some days, he faces down death completely fearless like it owes him one every single time, and you’re stiff as a fucking board while he carries you through the sky.  It’s stunning up here, it’s exciting and wonderful, but you’re so scared that you can barely even look.  He’s giving you the most fantastical view, everything your budding adventurous streak could ever ask for, and your terror is crushing.  It would be different if you could hold on, but you’re responsible for not letting the baby slip through your arms and you just have to trust that he won’t let you slip through his.

You raise your voice.  “Din?!”

“I won’t drop you,” he automatically reassures, and well you sure as fuck hope not, but there’s something else.

“What about the crib?”  You call out over the wind whipping, tucking the baby tight to your chest and settling your hands over his ears to avoid them flapping and whacking you repeatedly in the chin.

“We’ll come back for it,” he responds, just as easily.  Maker, you wish decision-making came that easy to you, that commitment and choice should be so simple as to just fly away from things on the ground and promise out loud to come back for them.  You know he will, but still, his spontaneity shocks you after spending the past week thinking every decision through meticulously, and you’re taken aback by the casualness of it all while soaring through the sky, committing such spectacular feats without a single thought beyond it.

Soon—incredibly soon, which honestly kind of blows your mind—you spot Nariss glowing in the distance and then you’re flying overtop of the city, slowly dropping altitude in the middle of a quiet little side street.

Din carefully allows your feet to settle on the ground before letting go, but you still stumble a bit stupidly after flying so high without any sort of safety measure besides him, prioritizing the steadiness of the baby in your arms instead of your feet underneath you.  His gloves catch at your clumsy body and pull you along with him without another word, leading you out of the quiet alley and into the middle of a beautiful, luminescent street.

What’s he doing?  He seems slightly hurried, and you’re clueless but you go with it, clamoring along behind him to wherever he’s leading you.

Though, you suddenly remember one of the very last things you told him last night right before he steps up in front of a vendor.

“Caf,” Din grunts, sliding a few credits towards the man standing behind the counter. “The… biggest one you have.”

Okay, well.  You could just about fucking cry.

“Y’sure?” The vendor asks skeptically, jerking his head at the large thermos behind him.  He’s balding, wearing a white outfit with his eyes scrunched up and forehead sweaty, likely working all day.  “It ain’t fresh.  Closin’ up soon, was just about to trash it and go home.”

The helmet turns to gauge your response to the news, the sharp angles and contours looking so sleek and dangerous as they reflect the colorful lamplights, but just filling you with comfort beyond anything in the entire galaxy.  He’ll take that armor off for you tonight and you’ll sleep next to him.  He’ll call you by your given name, or the fond name he’s given you, and you’ll cuddle your baby on a metal floor in hyperspace with him, and all will be well.  Even if he needs to leave again soon—even if you don’t get to go with him, you’ll always have these small eternities with each other, and that’s more enough for you now.

You’re completely zoned out while staring at him, and Din turns back to the vendor before you can even remember the conflict he was attempting to defer to you.

“Yeah, just empty the whole thing in there for her,” he mutters, and you want to marry him.  It’s been a long week, and in your haze and delight of being with him in this gorgeous setting, your brain turns to cavewoman mush.  Big man, makes me happy.  Strong man, loves me, knows me.  Provider, makes me feel good, protector, loves me.

Din hands you the large cup of steaming caffeine, clueless to your grunted inner monologue but knowing better than to reach out and grab the kid from your other arm.  You’re just fine like this, hands full, the little frog snuggled up against your side and blinking up at your face instead of any of the shiny or glowing things around you.  When you look down at him, you can see the world through his eyes—quite literally, they’re reflective and gigantic—and his father’s hand quickly finds its preferred spot on your lower back.

“Try to drink it quick,” Din advises you gruffly, pulling you snug into his side and sloshing the big cupful of piping hot liquid in your hand.

“It’s a thousand degrees,” you protest, trying to balance your three favorite things in the universe all begging for your direct attention at once.  “It has to cool down.”

He gives a dismissive hm in response, and you frown even as your heart soars with how tightly he’s gripping you, how little leeway you have to even move without him.  Part of you is so thrilled at being reunited with him that you consider snarking something back at him, excitement making you brave.  He could probably chug boiling hot liquid in thirty seconds and doesn’t see the point in letting it sit any longer, and you could make some stupid joke about filtering it through his helmet or having a built in bendy straw but you decide to keep it to yourself.

So then you just stand there together, under stringed lights and flowers everywhere, and he waits.  Holding you glued to his side, completely silent and clearly just waiting for your caf to stop steaming so threateningly in your hand so you can drink it.  For some reason, the fact that he’s wanted by the New Republic doesn’t really register at this second—you’re not looking for cops, though he may be.  You’re just lost in this beautiful, fancy city that’s on the edge of finally quieting down after a long day, and you’d like to see more of it with him next to you.

“Well, do you wanna just…”  You ask, tilting your head around at all the vendors.  “Shop around for a bit?”

“Shop… around,” Din repeats slowly, sounding the words out like they’re not common Basic.  Admittedly, they do sit a bit awkward in his voice when put together like that, describing a phenomena he’s likely never even considered a thing before, but it’s so fucking pretty here and you’d like to show him something this time instead of the other way around.

“Yeah, like,” you shrug a shoulder, tipping your head in a random direction.  Anywhere, you’ll go literally anywhere with him, the three of you can go explore.  “Just wander around, and look at all the pretty things.”

From where you’re standing right now, you can already see glittering crystals and jewels being sold at the tent across the street, there’s a booth dedicated entirely to floral arrangements and crowns next to it, you can hear a distant quartet playing melodically in the distance and a couple is being painted by an artist on the corner.  Bars are in full swing at this point, as if they weren’t all day, and even though the merchandise is all different, the multicolored tents look slightly similar when they’re underlit with multicolored lights.  It’s less slightly lively than it was in the daytime, but also… more beautiful, in a sense.  Muted, softer, more romantic.

“I don’t have any more credits,” Din admits casually, finally turning to look around at everything.  You get the feeling that he’s just now seeing it, even after spending the entire day here.  “That stale caf was the last of it.”

Money well fucking spent, you can assure him of that.

“It’s okay,” you tell him automatically, gently bumping your hip into his.  “We don’t need credits, we can just look.”

So that’s what you do.  Even though it’s completely not his fucking style, for the next hour or so, you just walk around downtown with him and sip your caf, looking at anything and everything new and experiencing it with him.  At first, you think he’s just entertaining you, following you while you discover new streets and attractions, but then he points out different things and you know he's looking, too.  There are large animals harnessed up and pulling carts for people to ride, there's an enormous spinning wheel set up in the distance, its colorful lights flickering out as soon as you ask what the fuck that is and why anyone would ever get inside one.

You eventually end up finishing your caf around the time he’s leading you back through a quiet, abandoned alleyway, and you hand him the empty cup to throw away in one of the trash cans on the corner.  The conversation has faded to a comfortable quiet and you don’t really need to ask—you go willingly, not requiring anything beyond his hands on you and the baby dozing in your arms.

“Come on, sweet girl,” he murmurs, gently sweeping you up into his.  You sigh, glad he’s giving you a moment to prepare yourself this time, holding the sleeping kid securely to your chest and resting your head on his shoulder.  “Let’s go home.”

After you’re comfortable, Din rockets up from the ground and climbs high up into the canvas sky.  He disappears with you and the baby into the pastel clouds above, making it back to the Razor Crest in probably about an hour, maybe less.  You and the baby do nothing more than climb into the comfy floor blankets while Din starts up the engines, and you think you’re dozing off together by the time he makes the pit stop to collect the crib and the jump into hyperspace.

You think he might shower?  You’re not sure—you just know he moves up behind you in bed at one point without any armor, burying his face in your hair while you cuddle the sleepy kid to your chest.  It’s dark in the hull, Din’s palms are bare and warm as they slide around the front of your body and he breathes you in, and there isn’t a single place that can touch you here, not a single place you’d rather be.

Home.

***

@followwhereshegoes​ Thank you for the stunning artwork! 💕To anyone interested in possibly doing an art collab in the future, please message me!!

[hopeymchope]

I haven't fully watched the new Higurashi yet (you can include spoilers for OG higurashi and the sequel in your answer, it's fine!) but from what I've heard and seen myself, Satoko was extremely out of line towards Rika and nothing Rika could've done could justify how Satoko basically abused and tortured her. The fact that they reconcile at the end puts me off because how can you forgive someone who forced you to relive your worst traumas?

*MAJOR SPOILERS FOR 2020-2021'S "HIGURASHI GOU" AND "HIGURASHI SOTSU" ANIMES HEREIN*

I wasn't sure how to speak to this Ask because the Ask itself is a massive spoiler (and obviously it's possible some people here might not be wanting that), but it's also Anonymous. So I have to answer it publicly if I'm even gonna respond. I guess I'll just roll with the huge spoiler warning there, put a bunch of spoiler tags in, and hopefully that'll do enough.

God how I hate Gou and Sotsu, though. *sigh* It's not the sequel story I hate the most out of any sequel ever, but it's definitely one of those sequels that... any time I go back to the original, it's tainted by the knowledge of what canonically came later. It'll never not be damaged by these things. Taking a story that had a beautiful and satisfying ending for decades, then going back to add a new sequel that not only undoes the triumph of that ending complete but ALSO radically reinterprets one of the beloved characters into a villain now is just... SUCH a "fuck you" to everybody who ever loved the original.

There’s nothing like hugging it out after 100 years of physical and psychological torment.

But that long-ass video I recently linked to also taught me a lot of things about how it turned out the way it did — and where you can go to get a better version of the same basic tale. Though even then, I still have a lot of misgivings.

For starters, I learned that franchise author Ryukishi07 wrote down the basics of what was supposed to happen in every arc and the overall narrative for the anime team at Passione, and then he let them handle the details. The actual scripts were handled by the writers at Passione, and Ryukishi07 said he was frequently shocked and surprised by what they did in the storyboards and scripts. He wouldn't have written things that way himself. But because he A) believed they were the experts when it came to animation, not him, and B) has always embraced other creators coming in and giving their own narrative spin to the 'When They Cry' multiverse, he always signed off on/approved anything they showed him, no matter how much it deviated from his own vision. Which, I'd argue? Was a big mistake. Because when you're giving us the first official full sequel to such a beloved story solely in anime format - there's never going to be any other "Ryukishi's version"? That means you need to make sure the characters are being done right and the events make sense. You need to make certain it's all true to that original tale. No, maybe this isn't the medium you're comfortable writing in. But that doesn't mean you can afford to look the other way when you think "Wow, that's completely NOT what I intended" over and over.

Secondly, I learned much more about the manga adaption of "Gou" and its own unique take on the sequel — which is called Higurashi Meguri. By the time Sotsu was finished airing, the "Gou" manga was just wrapping up, and the mangaka embraced the opportunity to do take the same framework and tell a version of the story that is significantly different. The result is that the manga is much more in line with the characters and tone of the original story than the anime was, because the author has seen how much the anime didn't work and is able to course-correct in a million small ways. The same basic events are there, sure. But it's all about a hundred times better-handled so far. 

HOWEVER... there are some flaws that are going to remain inescapable. When you end one season/series on a cliffhanger that you proceed to ignore for like 13 episodes before you get around to dealing with it in the second season/series? That’s stupid, and it’s an example of something kind of inescapable in the structure of the damn thing. More importantly, as far as I'm concerned? The entire concept of this sequel was doomed from the fucking jump. Getting a version with better writing and better motivations and more believable actions on the part of the characters is GOOD, sure, but that doesn't mean it's not STILL a huge "fuck you" to have these basic events take place at all. Y'know? Like, I respect Meguri, sure. But I still don't particularly WANT it.

...this is all a really overlong lead-in to my point, which is that: In Gou and Sotsu, they sometimes try to imply that Satako isn’t really in control of her own actions, Or at least, the Satako we’ve always known isn’t in control? There’s seemingly a new, second personality in there - a “witch” who may or may not have been brought into existence by her interactions with Eua inside the sea of fragments. (And again: The whole “a god-being inside the physical domain of the the sea of fragments is communicating with Satako to cause her to become corrupted” is something I find inherently bad and dumb that you can’t really ignore in this story.) So this arguably removes some degree of guilt from Satako? (This is heavily muddied by how the storytelling handles the whole “Dual Personality” aspect in a bad way, but that’s another can o’ worms.) 

On the flip side, the alternate telling of these events in the Higurashi Meguri manga takes this idea much farther, making it far more blatant that Eua damages Satako’s mind against her will and forcibly manipulates Satako into her new corrupted form. Satako is far more of a victim in Meguri than she ever is in the anime; it’s obvious that she’s not in control of anything anymore. She’s just a puppet that Eua is using to ensure that Rika continues to be “interesting.”

So I guess my point is, yeah, I get what you mean about the anime in particular. I guess this is supposed to be an exploration of how their relationship became too co-dependent, but it really just makes Satako look like a psychotic asshole. But in the manga? Well, Meguri isn’t finished, but at this point, I can far better understand why someone would forgive Satako in THIS scenario. It really isn’t her fault that this happened to her OR Rika. 

[tharkflark1]

Now that I’ve completely caught up on KH (and even played most of em), I think I can finally give my reviews on each game in the series! Then I’ll rank em at the end!

I only got into the series about a year ago and I love it to bits! So this will be from the perspective of someone who never rlly played it as a kid nor had heard of it until recently. ^^ however it should be known that knew the the entire KH plot line before playing them outright.

KH1 - The only KH game I’d played before I truly knew what it was. I remember seeing it and playing a bit of it in elementary school cuz some friends had it, but I never knew what was going on so I never finished any of the worlds ^^’.

It’s definitely the hardest game out of the bunch. Not because of anything it does but simply it’s just so barebones in terms of battling compared to future games in the series. That’s not to say it’s not fun tho: probs my favorite time grinding for synthesis items. I’d say this game is my fav grinding experience. Plus Cure not taking up ur entire health bar helps KSNDKSNSKS

As for story: A great way to start off the series. You get introduced to your main guy, your little meow wow: Sora. And then there’s his jealous gay best friend, Riku. And probably my fav version of so far and pretty snarky girl best friend, Kairi. This game is pretty good on its own in terms of story but it really shines in how it influences all the other games in the series. I’d say playing through all the other games made me appreciate it so much more as well as create a baseline of “innocence” for the Destiny Trio to fall back on and acknowledge. And DI is just a beautiful place in general, rlly want to explore it freely someday.

My only real gripe is that Ansem SOD, tho mentioned throughout the game, is not overly built upon as a final antagonist. Maleficent, I feel, is much more satisfying to finally fight and defeat because she’s been messing with Riku’s head and planting Heartless everywhere with her other bad guy friends. Ansem SOD’s final fight is on Destiny Islands tho so he gets some bonus points.

KH Re:CoM - Truthfully, I haven’t finished it but I’m at Marluxia’s final fight, and I feel like I can talk about the gameplay in general.

The card system is a huge obstacle to get around at first, but once you get the hang of it it’s actually quite enjoyable! Finding out new ways to defeat ur enemies almost instantaneously plus needing to solve ur way out of bosses is so much fun! I could probably spend my days just grinding in that game

Story wise, the push off for this wild story as a whole. It’s this eye opening “oh shit this was going on the background of KH1 the whole time???” Kind of feel. Naminé and Repliku are great. You get introduced to Axel, Larxene, Marluxia, Vexen, Zexion, and Lexaeus… only for all except for Axel to parish, and Sora to forget he ever did that in the first place skdbdjdbs

Riku’s character arc also starts here, and his and Mickey’s friendship is rlly sweet. And it rlly shows that Sora’s opinion of Riku is rlly important to Riku. It’s just all rlly insightful to what exactly started KH1 and everything else.

I probably sound like everyone else when I say that the only thing holding this game back is the vastly different gameplay. I think I’d love to see someone recreate CoM but as a normal KH game

KH2 - The longest one. Only because like, you have to go through each and every world twice (sometimes 3 times) over, and it has the largest amount of any worlds in any KH game. Grinded to level 99 and have barely attempted the super bosses ;0; Also, Lingering Will’s Portal never showed up so I have to beat the game again >:/

Gameplay’s pretty fun! It’s your normal KH almost button-mash style. The gummiship is a lot of fun too, but still more tedious than anything. The infamous Drive forms make their appearance, and they’re pretty swell. My fav probs ended up being Limit and Anti form, but Anti form is random so ;-;. He hang by him foot I don’t know how you couldn’t not love him. Easiest time getting ultima weapon here.

A great villain cast. All of them have such interesting personalities (especially once I got to Days) and designs. They make you wonder who and what they are. Why they’re doing all of this. Honestly, I can’t pick a favorite. This game does a surprisingly good job at letting you kinda get to know each Org person ur fighting before you defeat them. It’s wild.

Holy shit Roxas. Nomura just hands you this wonderful lad before he kills him 2 hours later. It’s same with Axel (if you hadn’t experienced CoM before this). Dude is just trying to get his adopted son back, but he eventually realizes there’s no point and sacrifices himself to save Sora. It’s pretty touching (especially, again, after Days). The game is rlly the one that gets you feeling. Riku’s being a dumb-dumb through out this game, but he’s still a wise ass and it’s pretty great. Kairi, uh, Kairi’s pretty cool in the manga. I feel like neither explain when and how Naminè merged back with Kairi before they shake hands at the end of the game.

My gripes. I was told by a lot of people that this was the best KH game, but I’ll have to disagree. The way I would explain this game is just, tedious. There’s practically nothing happening inbetween Sora waking up and major plot point areas. You’re forced to got through almost every world twice. Leveling up drive forms gets specific and almost annoying (unless you know a glitch to get around the form level part. Which I had to look up). Even with this story, I’m just supposed to accept that Roxas and Naminè can never be their own people again? Like, I get that it’s supposed to be bittersweet but it’s played so oddly. I dunno, I can’t rlly explain it.

I know some peeps have said that the games stopped being good after KH2/Days and should have stopped, but I’ll have to wholeheartedly disagree. Though it has its satisfying moments, I don’t think I would have enjoyed the series as much as I did if it just, stopped there. This is probably my least favorite entry.

348/2 Days - I didn’t play it but I watched someone play it AND I watched the cutscenes.

The Tetris system seems fun! I do have a DS so I hope to play it some day. I will say, when Nomura and friends have to make the gameplay different to work on a different console, they rlly make it work. I’ll be more in-depth on this when we get to BBS. Also I love that each character has joke weapons. Amazing.

The story alone makes me wonder why CoM was remade but not Days. I would have KILLED to see Lexaeus back hand Roxas or the “Roxas, that’s a stick” line fully animated. It’s a playable tragedy where no-one wins in the end. Xion is forgotten. Roxas loses his memories of the past year. And Axel loses both of the kids he cared about sm. The lights of his life while in the Org. It rlly makes Axel’s actions all that more heartbreaking in KH2. But, I do not recommend doing Days before KH2 as Days spoils some plot points in KH2.

Again, I would love to actually play it someday. So I don’t have much gripes. Maybe I’ll update this more when I finally do.

KH: BBS - My favorite. Also the first one I actually saw someone play. You play as 3 different characters with 3 different play styles and it forces you to compensate. And it has the melding system. I will get to the melding system.

Story is one of my favs and introduces a whole new trio: Some parents and their adopted son LMAO. Plus you have old man Xehanort and Eraqus and the Unversed (I want a flood plush so BAD), and a new addition to the Heart Hotel: Vanitas. He’s such a little gremlin but also a blast to fight. Especially as Aqua. His attitude kinda reminds me of Larxene, and he’s a breath of fresh air in terms of personality. He bounces off the optimism of the protags rlly well. Love him <3

This is probably my fav trio? They are, the best. We have girlboss Aqua and her himbo husband Terra. And the saddest boy to ever live, Ventus. I’d kill for all of them. And like, it has baby Destiny Trio and young Saixel like, how much more could u want???

The gameplay is the best out of the bunch. I love the melding system. I love having the command deck. Shotlocks??? Stupendous. I played this one on Critical first, so I’m not sure how much I can talk about in terms of difficulty, but it was challenging enough to let me rlly enjoy the gameplay itself. And with playing through it practically 3 times over: it rlly helps u nail down the specifics.

My gripes are few but common amongst other peeps. I do wish we could have seen more of the trio’s friendship. Like Ventus and Aqua being friends more often would have been cool. Honestly just, more Aqua hanging out with them. And there’s no, recipe for melding stuff so you have to either guess or look up online how to get the best commands.

Other than that: ( Shakes this game in front of ur face like a pack of saltines) play ittttt

KH:ReCoded - Same as Days: watched the cutscenes and someone play it. It’s about this little dude who doesn’t know what the FUCK is going on but he’s there to help I guess?

Again, I can’t say much of the gameplay but it looks fun! Similar to Days but it’s more circuit board-esque. Love to play it someday for real!

Story: tbh it’s kinda lack luster but it REALLY gets you used to the concept of data worlds and how they work. Plus it introduces the Book of Prophecies and what the hell Maleficent is doin.

Data Soriku my beloveds <3 They are like, if Riku realized he was gay rlly early on and everything didnt get swallowed up by darkness. Wonderful. I hope to see them again :( Also what was up with Sora’s heartless evolving into a Darkside. Is that foreshadowing??? Should I be scared for my son o-o’’

Don’t skip it! Plz it’s actually quite good and both Data Sora and Data Riku are wonderful characters.

DDD - The gay one. Holy shit. Riku you poetic gay I’m going to put you back into the closet myself

Story: A really great way to focus on two different characters in different way — Sora’s being about his Heart Hotel and Riku’s being about his internal struggles. The concept of dream worlds are introduced here and while I’m still very 🤔 about it, theyre very interesting. This game rlly shines in how it writes Riku and is more focused on him as a whole. He’s pretty much the main protag of this game and his goal to find himself and Sora.

Gameplay: they got rid of the melding system :( but the Dream Eaters are super cool! It plays very similar to BBS but no shotlocks but it also has ✨Flowmotion✨. I love just launching myself into space with it. I also love naming my dream eaters and hanging out with them.

Gripes: Commantis. That’s it. That’s my gripe. It makes me wanna never play the game again. It’s such an insanely hard boss and for no reason!

0.2 - Short but does a brief character study on Aqua while she’s stuck in the realm of Darkness. Also the official KH dress up game.

Story: More a character study and a demo for KH3 than a whole game. Aqua’s thoughts and feelings on what she’s done, and she’s clearly got depression or something. I need her to be hugged and loved STAT. Also I’ll beat Yen Sid and Rickey Rat with my bare hands ☺️

Gameplay: You can complete it in a couple hours depending on how slow u are or if you wanna get all the outfits. Rlly wish they could have kept even a little of the dress up options going into KH3 but oh well. It’s weirdly laggy at points but I do LOVE the mirror puzzles. Again, more things I wish were in KH3.

Gripes: I don’t rlly, have any? It’s a good warm up going into KH3 with situation commands and everything. Some of the outfit challenges are fuckin WILD tho. Like you gotta defeat a certain boss with a finisher or not take damage during boss fights. Fuckin WILD

Great warm up game! Wish it was longer tho :(

KH3 - the big boye. The largest lad. The first game I ever actually paid attention to and actually caught my interest.

Story: It has KH2's problem i feel with everything at the start and end being important and then dying down in the middle. But I feel it does WAY better than Kh2. Nothing feels overly tedious and all the worlds and characters are a delight. One of my fav versions of Sora where he's still the happy-go-lucky son boy but theres some underlying sadness to him that accumulates until he breaks towards the end. It's great characterization for Sora, and I can't wait to see what Nomura has in store for him.

Also we get to save everyone and every time we watch Terra burst into tears I start crying. And the the Sea Salt Trio hugging ;0; Honestly? The end of this phase of KH is such a breath of fresh air. I’ve seen some peeps say that Roxas and Xion coming back demeans their sacrifices, and while I get that, I feel like the story of KH pushed so hard that Sora wanted them to be real again that them not coming back would have felt empty. Also KH as a whole puts this “everyone deserves a chance at life” thing out there and it makes me cry.

Gameplay: there is,,, so much. And all of it rocks. But keyblade transformations have to be my fav. Oh and Rage form; my little scrunkly <3. The game makes each keyblade viable and fun and it’s just so good. And they even made the Gummiship fun!! Say what you want about the story but holy shit this game is just a delight to play. I have yet to test Critical mode but I’m so ready. I’m gonna get Oblivion so badddd.

As for the Superbosses: fun. I can’t just keep saying that word over and over again but there’s rlly no other word to describe it! I’ve only done 3 so far (funniest defeat being Vanitas who got crushed by Meow Wow ass) and can’t wait to do the rest (I fear Yozora tho >_>’)

But I’m the best at cooking! That egg breaking mini game is my fav <3

Gripes: The DLC paywall probs. Kinda annoying but not the worst thing in the world. And like I said before, pacing’s rlly odd. But def a solid 9/10.

Melody of Memory: the rhythm game

Another one of those “if you don’t like the gameplay it’s rlly not worth buying” but I’m a HUGE fan of rhythm games. So I love it.

Rlly recommend getting headphones to play it. Also if ur having trouble hitting the notes you can adjust the timing in config!

Love that we got a 7 sec update this year for it and it was just Ienzo, Even, and Ansem freaking out over static KSJDKSNSK

Gripes: none rlly. Everything is enjoyably challenging. Not a whole lot of plot stuff tho. Very bare bones in terms of lore

Final ranking (from least to most fav)

KH2 -> CoM -> Days = Re:Coded -> 0.2 = DDD -> KH1 -> MoM -> KH3 = KH: BBS

[silverducks]

Game of Thrones - Jaime Lannister

A rambling character study of Jaime Lannister from Game of Thrones.

Introduction

Ok, so nearly a month since I finished watching Game of Thrones, and I’m still not over how it ended. Like some things I can reconcile myself too, some things just annoy me when I overthink what happened and some things - ok one thing in particular - is just not letting me go.

And that is the way the show ended for Jaime Lannister.

I know I’m like 2 years too late on the GoT bandwagon and no one cares anymore. But I’m writing all these posts because I still care, having recently experienced what you all went through 2 years ago. And I know what I’ll be posting will have all been posted countless times before and discussed in the fandom years ago. But I kinda need to still get my own thoughts written down and outta my head.

Before I go on though, I just want to add in here that I do still love this show and, even right to the very end, think the acting, crew, music, sets/scenery, costumes, basically everything was pretty much amazing. That is except the writing, which, went downhill after series 4. Before then it was pretty much amazing too (not always perfect (is anything?), but so darn good!)

Now, turns out when I came to write down my thoughts on Jaime’s ending, I had even more than I realised. Basically it’s turned into me writing one massive analysis of Jaime’s character based on the show. So I’ve split it into separate posts, with this first one more of an intro, a summary of my thoughts and overall opinion on Jaime and a bit of context on my own experience with Game of Thrones.

Now, spoilers for Game of Thrones ending

I’ve read/watched a lot on the internet since I saw those episodes (series 8, episode 4 and 5 in case you weren’t sure) and I know a lot of people don’t like how they ended Jaime’s story in the show either. But I’ve also read a lot of comments where people did like it, or at least thought it made sense. The reasons they give make no sense to me, but it’s made me think and overthink and analyse way too much about how they did end his story.

So, in order to try and get them out of my head, I’m putting them down here. It’s a long, pretty rambling read, split up into a few parts because it got so long. Across the posts I’m going to go through my own understanding and perception of Jaime’s character and his arc and why I think they completely ruined it in episodes 8.04 and 8.05. I’ll then focus on some of the main reasons I’ve seen why people think it did make sense, and why (even though I maintain everyone is entitled to their own opinion) I completely disagree. Jaime’s character arc was annihilated in the show even more than Kings Landing. And that is more than a bit frustrating.

Now, just a bit of background to add some context to my thoughts; I basically only got around to watching the show a few months ago (I’ve not read the books yet). I basically binged watched the entire show and am now just a little bit reeling from it all! LOL! Also, as I did binge watch it, it meant I didn’t spend time between episodes/series really analysing/theorising etc. I had a few ideas and thoughts, but not to the depth it would have been had I needed to wait impatiently for each new episode. This means I think my viewpoint is of the show as an overall whole, rather than each separate series, because it kinda all rolled into one. This may, or may not, have affected my opinion and so this analysis of Jaime Lannister and my disappointment in his ending. It also means, having only watched the show once, I’ve probably forgotten or missed bits. However, since I finished the show, I’ve watched a lot of YouTube videos and read a lot of stuff on the net about it, including in comparison to the books. (And I maybe rewatched some of my favourite scenes just a few times…) And now I am analysing and theorising and thinking about this show way too much! LOL!

So I guess my viewpoint isn’t one of ignorance, but it might not be quite the same as someone who’s been invested in the show from the start.

Like most viewers, I pretty much thought Jaime = evil villain for most of the earlier series. He had the odd moment, but it wasn’t until he did that speech with Catelyn about the conflict of all those oaths he’d taken that I even started to take note of his character. And then series 3 happens, where he has his road trip with Brienne, loses his hand, saves her from a bear and basically starts his wonderful path of character development. And basically manages to go from a guy I pretty much do not like at all at the start, to one of my all time favourite characters ever.

Also, I’m definitely a Brienne/Jaime shipper and did wish them to have a happy ending. However, I pretty much never thought the show would actually even go there, let alone make it happy. In fact, I actually did my best to NOT ship them for such a long time because, being Game of Thrones, I knew it was very unlikely to end well. But, then yeah, their intense staring contests kept on happening and darn it, the way that Jaime’s voice breaks when he says Lady Brienne and him giving her a priceless sword, and what the sword represents and…

Ok, well, yeah, I could gush about them all day, but anyway, I ended up not being able to fight the ship any more after series 6 and THAT tent scene. But, even then, I still didn’t think the show would make it canon, like it would just leave it all open ended/make up your own mind kinda thing.

And then we get to series 8. Like we have a whole episode (that is actually named for their very storyline) with Jaime just staring at Brienne, being all dorky around Brienne and then, if that wasn’t enough, he even KNIGHTS Brienne! I mean, this is epic for this ship! And I would have been ok (not happy, but satisfied) as a Brienne and Jaime shipper if that had been it.

But then no, then he barely leaves her side in the fight against the dead in the next episode – they fight side by side with their two halves of one whole swords, each risking their own life for the other multiple times. And then in the next episode (where I don’t think there’s barely any scene where they’re NOT right next to each other) the show DID make it canon. Like it actually did go there, they slept together (in an adorably awkward scene I love). Heck, Jaime then even chooses to stay in the North and be with Brienne, even though he hates the North. Like this was just epicness of all proportions and I got so excited and all those shippy feels I was trying to hold back just came rushing out and then... and then...

THEN that scene happens. He leaves her. Like WTH…

Anyway, more on that in another post. I guess what I’m trying to say is that as much as I ship them, my issues with Jaime’s ending is less about his relationship with Brienne, and more just his complete 180 on character development. Jaime’s arc has been heavily influenced by Brienne, but it is still amazing in its own right. As I didn’t expect Brienne/Jaime to ever happen (so when it did and then got taken away in the very same episode, it’s incredibly frustrating and gives even less credence to what does happen), it’s not why I’m so annoyed and disappointed with what happened to Jaime.

I’m annoyed because they took all this amazing character growth over 7 series and then screwed it all over in less than two episodes. No, that’s not enough. It was a complete and utter character assassination that completely undermines and destroys 7 series worth of investment and development, completely nullifying everything Jaime went through as a character.

So, yeah, I’m a bit annoyed, but that’s because it makes no sense and it’s bugging me enough to write this whole series of posts. Because I can’t let it go. And having read people justify, even like it online, it’s made my inner analysis thought train go into override. And I’m sorry if these posts are like I’m preaching to the choir, or writing such obvious stuff and repeating myself, I’m just trying to get it all out my head as coherently as I can. Hopefully allowing me to move on a bit.

#Urgh #I need to sit in a corner and try to cheer myself up again before I can write anymore #Maybe watching some Brienne and Jaime fan videos will help cheer me up #And also simultaneously depress me even more.

[ultrahpfan5blog]

Rewatching TDK Trilogy

Easily my favorite superhero trilogy and arguably one of my favorite trilogies of all time. I think in terms of superhero trilogies, Captain America is the one that comes closest because I love all three movies, but they aren’t a trilogy in the normal sense in that Civil War is essentially Avengers 2.5 and neither Civil War nor Winter Soldier can be understood without having watched Avengers and Age of Ultron. But even putting that aside, I adore TDK trilogy and it still ranks as my favorite superhero movies. The trilogy, obviously starting with Batman Begins, is what put introduced me to Nolan. I hadn’t seen Memento and Insomnia till then so Batman Begins was literally my first introduction to him.

I was always a big Batman fan as a huge follower of the DCAU cartoons with Kevin Conroy voicing a really badass Batman throughout the 90′s and into the early 2000′s. While I enjoyed the first 4 Batman movies as a kid, yes even B&R, I always wanted to see the more somber version from the cartoons. Batman Begins hit me at the perfect time where I started to have longer attention spans and wasn’t just looking for the next action scene. Rewatching the movie, it amazes me that Batman doesn’t show up for half the movie. I think that was a really brave call given pretty much all previous Batman movies introduced Batman almost immediately. I genuinely love all the prelude to Bruce becoming Batman. I liked that we got to see his training extensively and we are introduced to the city and see the dynamics of the rich and the poor, the police, the mob, the lawyers etc... It really gives Gotham a very grounded personality. I think Nolan really killed it at the casting level. By getting Caine as Alfred, Freeman as Fox, and Oldman as Gordon, he created a superbly acted support structure around Bruce/Batman, so we aren’t just always waiting for Bruce to show up. On top of that, they had Liam Neeson as Ra’s, who is effortlessly compelling, as well as other strong supporting actors like Cillian Murphy as a scene stealing Scarecrow, Tom Wilkinson as Falcone, Rutger Hauer as Earle etc... All giving personality to a difference facet of the city and Bruce’s life. But this truly is Bale’s movie. I didn’t know him at all prior to this film, but I have been a fan ever since. He carries the movie on his shoulders and he delivers the ferociousness of Batman and the humanity of Bruce Wayne effortlessly. If there is someone who doesn’t make a big impression, its Katie Holmes. I didn’t find her terrible, but rather the character isn’t exactly well written which bleeds into the next movie with Maggie Gyllenhall as well. My favorite Batman performance. Rewatching, what surprised me the most is the amount of humor in the movie. This is actually reflective of the entire trilogy. The movies deal with darkness and death, but there is actually plenty of humor sprinkled throughout these movies which prevent it from being dour. There have been a lot of superhero origin stories, but this still remains the gold standard of superhero origin stories. A 9/10 for me.

There is nothing I can say about The Dark Knight that hasn’t been said a 100 times over. It quite literally is the best comic book movie of all time. But it basically is at heart a drama about Gotham. Whereas BB acts as a character centric piece, this film is about all the characters living in Gotham. Arguable, the character that has the biggest arc in the film is Harvey Dent. Again, the casting department knocked it out of the park with the casting of Aaron Eckhart as Harvey Dent. Unfortunately, Eckhart never really capitalized on his performance here because he really was terrific in the film, both as Harvey and as Two-Face, to the point where you wished you had more of Two-Face. Gary Oldman gave his best work in the trilogy in this movie. The desperation as the situation spins out of control is fabulous. Freeman also has a very meaty role in the movie and continues to add a lot of weight to the scenes as well as plenty of humor, as does Michael Caine. Christian Bale continued to be terrific. There were some complaints about his voice, which I feel have been overexaggerated over the years. I definitely think his Begins voice is better, but barring one or two scenes, I never really had an issue with Bale’s voice in this film. He delivers a very nuanced performance. Maggie Gyllenhaal took over from Katie Holmes in TDK and while I think she is a far better actress than Katie Holmes, I think the character itself is not very well written. In both movies, Rachel comes off as very judgmental. Whereas in BB I can understand her reason in being so, given Bruce was ready to commit murder and later was out being a playboy in front of her for the sake of appearances, in this movie she is judgmental towards Bruce even though she knows what he has been doing to help the city. Also, she did come off a bit flaky in the whole Bruce/Rachel/Harvey triangle. And then there is Heath Ledger. There are very few performances that I consider perfect. This is one of them. I think every choice Ledger makes in this movie, be it intentional or unintentional, works amazingly well. Like him licking his lips to keep the make up on. It just adds a creepy quality to his character, even if it is completely unintentional. There are so many ticks and quirks in Ledger’s performance that make this a phenomenal performance. I don’t see any villain performance having matches that since 2008. I think the closest I have seen prior to that is Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lector in Silence of the Lambs. It really is a performance that adds such a big extra edge to the movie. I love that Nolan sticks to certain details such as Bruce never actually drinking alcohol and throwing it away at the part and then Joker showing up and taking a glass and him spilling almost all of it. It gives a lot of personality to the characters. If I have any complaint about the movie, it is that Bruce does at times feel like a stationary character as he does not have as big of an arc as a Harvey Dent. And if you want, you can pick apart the holes in the series of events that happen that cause the chaos. But the drama of the film is just so intense that you forget all of that behind. I give it a 9.5/10

The Dark Knight Rises to me is the film that gets often maligned just because it isn’t TDK. And that is a crazy yardstick to compare it to. But as a movie on its own, its pretty damn awesome. TDKR is where the film truly steps away from being a version of the comics to being an Elseworld story with Batman having been absent for 8 years and then Bruce retiring and leaving Gotham at the end of the movie. But I don’t think there was any way for Nolan to close out his trilogy without it becoming an Elseworld story and it really didn’t matter because I always figured that as long as Bruce is out there, if Gotham needed him, he would come back. Its not as if there aren’t existing comic book stories of Bruce having retired or left being Batman behind. Again, there is some superb new casting. JGL ends up being surprising integral and he is terrific. Tom Hardy is awesome as Bane. He manages to provide a terrifying presence. I actually loved his voice. I love that a terrifying brute of a man has a polite, gentlemanly sounding voice. It gave him a unique personality. Marion Cotillard is pretty good as Talia/Miranda. She has an awkwardly filmed death scene but she’s good throughout the rest of the film, particularly during the reveal scene. But the casting of the movie for me was Anne Hathaway as Selina Kyle. I knew Anne Hathaway mostly from the Princess Bride movies till then even though she had gotten an academy award nomination by then. But I really didn’t envisage her as Selina Kyle but she blew me out of the water with her performance. She was seductive, yet very likable. I love the clever costume design of her goggles looking like cat ears when she puts them up. I also love Nolan’s version of the Lazarus Pit. Certainly Bruce’s climb out of the pit is one of the most compelling scenes of the movie. You truly feel the emotion. The film also has one of the best acted scenes I have scene between Michael Caine and Christian Bale in the hallway. Its the scene I remember first whenever I think about TDKR. Oscar quality acting by both in that scene. The returning cast is all terrific but Michael Caine has a few gut wrenching scenes, including this one and the scene at the funeral at the end. Oldman and Freeman continue to be stalwarts throughout the movie, I really admire that Nolan did not waste these actors and given them very substantial roles in all the movies and all these actors really respected the material to not sleep walk through the roles. I think Bale’s performance here rivals his performance in Begins. Particularly in the scenes in the Pit. You get to see a full range of emotions, from pain, to despair, to anger, to hope. Its a superb performance. The film isn’t flawless. Its just a tad too long and there is some clunky editing at times. None of the three films can be said to contain very memorable action sequences because Nolan is not known to have great action sequences in his film until more recently, but the drama in the action negates that. Like, the Bane vs Batman fight where Bane breaks Batman, isn’t the greatest action scene in terms of fight choreography, but there is a lot weight to these characters which is what makes it incredibly compelling. Same is true to an extent for the climax at the end. When Batman beats Bane, I felt a sense of satisfaction after what I had witnessed in the previous fight. Overall, I genuinely feel that I love the last act of TDKR the most out of all three films. The Batplane, Batpod, and Tumbler chase scene was thrilling and it was cool to watch all three Bat vehicles in operation. The ending montage also ends the movie on a real uplifting note for all characters, which is very satisfying. I really love the movie. A 9/10.

It has to be said that Zimmer’s score across all three films contributes enormously to these movies. All in all, these set of movies are still my favorite superhero movies and my favorite Nolan movies till date.

[phynali]

more spn discussions, just skip this post y’all

 @queerbluebird​ thanks so much for engaging with my post/reply! i really enjoyed reading your response and i have a long reply here.

i’m responding to your post/reply here rather than reblogging it because honestly that thread is - so long. so very long. 

so first - 

i agree there is a difference between entitlement and what i would call, not promise, but instead “narrative follow-through”. A story that completely lacks narrative follow-through does end up feeling disappointing, or frustrating, or rage-inducing, depending on what’s happened. to me there’s a fundamental difference between critiquing a story based on follow-through and bad storytelling (which your post aims to do), versus say, creating hashtag campaigns about a character being silenced because and spreading conspiracy theories about a bad dub (among other things honestly).

and also - queerbaiting totally sucks, we definitely do agree on that.

where we disagree, i think are these two core points:

i do not see the narrative build-up that demands a follow-through. i do not see supernatural as having built up to the story that many destiel shippers seem to think was there, and no one has ever been able to point out to me any actual textual reasons that do craft that narrative build-up  

i fundamentally do not believe that destiel was ever a queerbait. queerbait involves active intent on the part of creators to tease a ship or queer representation in order to draw in $ from queer audiences without ever making it canon, so as not to alienate straight audiences. so, refering to point 1., i do not see the canon text as having laid the groundwork for a queerbait and those romantic tropes, at least not at any point in the past 7 years. and beyond the canon, the writers and producers and jensen ackles all indicated dean was straight, and that they were not writing a romance. if anyone queerbaited the fans, it was misha collins who kept teasing the possibility, and personally i would argue that was irresponsible of him. but that’s a different discussion altogether and tends to piss people off when it’s framed as such, because misha means a lot to them and it hurts to see the man who validated their feelings get criticized for the manner in which he validated them. so i’m gonna leave that aside.

beyond that, I want to engage with some of your specific quotes:

Supernatural loves to say “wait for it.” And I don’t think it’s entitled to feel betrayed if an author uses their story to say “wait for it” in order to convince you to stick with their story and then delivers the opposite after you do.

May i ask, where was the “wait for it” with destiel? this ties in directly to the queerbaiting. i indicated in my post/reply that while i see it from cas, there’s been little to no hint of any reciprocation of feelings from dean, and if anything the past 7 or so years have driven the point home that it isn’t happening. i personally am not able to see the “Wait for it” and that was the point of my question. without the “Wait for it”, i also can’t see the queerbait. 

I asked for specifics and while i totally get not having the spoons, you provided a few:

(off the top of my head for Dean though, the mixtape, his response to Cas’ death at the end of 12, subsequent grief arc, and reaction to Cas’ return in the front half of 13 rank highly. His reaction to Lucifer’s prank call in 15x19 might rate, but maybe just because it’s so recent.)

not trying to be unkind here, but i quite genuinely don’t see any of these examples as framing cas and dean in a romantic light, or as hinting at a “what if”. the mixtape is like.... okay, maybe. i had read that as being symbolic of something else, but i can see wanting to read it from a shipping lens. (i don’t however think i’d read it as baiting or “what if” - it was quite textually not framed that way. shipping, 100%, but canon build-up, not for me).

for the other examples -- grieving for someone you consider family? and being happy when they come back? that’s not shippy to me. i mean - contrast the grief he showed over cas’s death compared to his grief over, say, mary? or, less extreme, charlie? and nothing compared to how off the rails he goes when sam is dead or he thinks sam is. so i -- i just can’t see those as creating a narrative that demands a follow-through. and when your friend who is dead calls your phone? of course you hop to the door - i don’t know what is romantic about that. sam would’ve hopped just as quick if “cass” had called his phone instead.

and look - i see what is fun to ship about all that. if i shipped it, i’d be happily collecting these moments with a smile and grinning to myself about how cute they are and much they mean. but shipping it vs. it being romantically framed in the canon are two fundamentally different things. shipping doesn’t imply narrative buy-in or deliberation from the creator.

moving on, you also spoke at length about 15x18:

15x18 made the sort of statement that drew back even people who did exactly what OP said they should do, turning off the TV years ago. It wasn’t a quiet “if you’re still watching, keep waiting,” so much as a shouted “hey we’re gonna do this thing, watch this!”

i guess destiel fans vs. those of us who don’t ship it really see this as fundamentally different. because you discuss that moment as one which requires follow-through, and say that if this were heteronormative m/f love declaration, there would be that expectation of follow-through. not necessarily reciprocity, but more - more conversation, more acknowledgment, more something.

(i mean - if there was more, but that more was “hey i love you too but only platonically, sorry man” would that be better?)

but no - i actually just... disagree with your point on that front. i can see why you feel the way you do and i acknowledge that it can be read as the start of a conversation. to me though -- and clearly, now that the finale is out, how the writers saw it -- that was actually the end of a conversation. the end of, like you pointed out, 12 years. a 12-year conversation that ends in a gorgeous declaration of love, and specifically how love isn’t about being together, it’s simply about being - it’s about the fact that you love someone, and that feeling alone is the most beautiful thing in existence.

to me, that declaration can only be written and interpreted as an ending.  a sacrifice, a declaration, and a goodbye. so - while i kind of expected seeing more people in episode 20 and realize that didn’t happen largely due to covid - i’m not disappointed we didn’t see cas, because that culmination of his narrative (and then knowing he was with jack, after, rebuilding the heaven that he rebelled against and finally completing his narrative circle by fixing all the problems with it alongside the good god he sought to find all along) is kind of perfect. 

and i genuinely don’t think if cas was in a female vessel this entire time that that would change. maybe some audience members would feel differently, but i think many of us would see it for the end it was nonetheless. there’s plenty of stories with m/f ships that are one-sided and that character sacrifices themselves for the person they love, so i don’t see why this would be any different (except the bury your gays issue, but that’s a whole other and very real conversation about media tropes).

moving on to the series finale.

As many people have pointed out in praise of 15x20, Sam is the absolute most important thing in Dean’s life, his priority above anything and everything… And yet there, at the actual end of the world, Dean ignores Sam’s call and instead cries over the loss of Castiel. Dean’s loss of Castiel plays in tandem with the loss of literally the whole world. But we’re not to take that as a promise that Castiel means more to this story, or to Dean, than a couple seconds of wistfulness after the dust settles?

I... yeah. i don’t see what this even is arguing. that dean taking a minute to himself to grieve his best friend, who just died in part because dean decided to go hunt down billie (who was literally dying anyway). he’s hurting. there’s nothing about this that’s a promise - it’s an end. it’s grief. it’s the horror of losing someone you care about, and the silence that comes after. it’s fundamentally human in it’s pain. and we, the audience, are invited to grieve with dean.

so I mean - of course cas means more to this story. of course he’s meant more than a few seconds of grief, after 12 years. but just because that’s the last time we see him on screen doesn’t mean we don’t value his story, and celebrate how it too came full circle.

You mention cas as a sort of avatar for a different potential ending for the brothers, and highlight him representing:

An ending where higher powers stop yanking them around and they get to actually live in the life they’ve built for themselves.

So while i never considered cas an avatar for that, i do think we all wanted the brothers to have their freedom. “finally free.” so we can agree on wanting that end. but we disagree on whether it was delivered, i guess? because i feel it was.

you also talk about what you and many other fans conceivably wanted a happier ending to look like. can i -- i’m going to be totally honest. i have not seen a single person who’s critiquing the end saying “i just wanted sam and dean to grow old hunting together with their dog until they retire together and die of old age.”

would that be satisfying to those who are mad about the end? i personally don’t think so, but maybe my opinion is being coloured by the most vitriolic fans i’ve seen. if sam and dean got to have the life they wanted free of chuck, and dean didn’t die, and they kept going (or retired and opened a bar together!). maybe sam still had a kid, but again because romance wasn’t the point, the wife wasn’t important and they left her blurry still so we could interpret ourselves if she was a wife or a co-parent or a surrogate or what. maybe dean has a kid too, with a similar question-mark-wife. maybe we get a few images of them having a holiday with jodie and the girls. and then getting to heaven together in old age, greeting bobby with a beer, and going for a drive.

would that be an end that wouldn’t cause fandom uproar? i would enjoy it, soft an slightly discordant as it would be to me. i prefer the ending we got, bittersweet and heartbreaking though it was, but i wouldn’t be taking to social media to yell about it if we got a softer epilogue, so to speak.

on the other hand... would that still not be enough, at least not for so many of the angry fans? i’m genuinely unsure. it seems to me that so much of the ire is about destiel itself, even if people are pretending it’s about more and other things than that. not everyone, but like, a big portion of them. which leads me to believe that nothing short of dean and cas at least interpretable as together is what they wanted. if every other single thing about the existing finale was the same except that cas was the one to greet dean instead of bobby, and even with the same basic dialogue, without discussing the confession, but they have a lingering smile, and dean leaves to drive and wait for sam with the promise he’ll see cas later - 

if everything else stayed the same except who greeted dean, i genuinely don’t believe i’d be seeing almost any critique of the finale on my dash. maybe i’m cynical, but that’s where i’m at.

which is part of why i really struggle to believe that people are engaging in good faith when they critique the finale. because i feel like if it offered them either a) everything they’re purportedly asking for but still no cas and zero hint of destiel, vs. b) every other thing they claim to hate stays the same except there’s a wink and nod to destiel - i believe they would take the wink and nod. 

   On to some other things you raised:

But how can you know to walk away from a tragedy if the tragedy says “the end won’t be a tragedy, keep watching” right up until it ends in tragedy?

Oh i Get this. I hate thinking i’m consuming fun media only for it to rip my heart out at the end. i’ve literally - well, i’ve had a very unpleasant and distressing experience of this, actually. so i get it. also the opposite: i sometimes feel disappointed when i’m consuming media that is gripping and intense and painful, but then the end is too easy, too soft and happy?

BUT - supernatural never pretended it would have a happy end? the end was so. much. happier. than i ever expected. the Swan Song end was going to have Sam in hell being tortured by lucifer for eternity. according to something i read which i am fundamentally too lazy to link because who knows if it would have turned out this way but -- kripke was apparently going to have Dean jump in the cage with him at that end, if the series ended on S5? the ‘horror’ ending. completely devastating sacrifice for mankind (sam), and completely devastating sacrifice for his brother (dean). just -- oof. even if that wasn’t the plan and the series would’ve ended as the episode did - sam was still in the cage and cas was off waging war in heaven and dean was living every day knowing he was alive and his brother was being tortured.

i’m sorry if you thought you were watching a happier show. i know how much that hurts. that doesn’t mean the story was actually that happy though. sometimes, it’s on us as consumers to acknowledge we were misreading the media. i’ve had to do this. it’s hard, it hurts, but it helps you consume things healthier. i’ve had to do this growing recently, and i’m better off for it.

regarding the specific manner of dean’s death - that’s really not what my post was about and i’m not gonna address it here. i’ve talked about it elsewhere and so have others, and @lovetincture‘s original post spelled it out beautifully, in how human it was. i have feelings on how and why i loved dean’s death, and why it was the absolute opposite of what Chuck’s ending was and what he wanted (no blaze of glory), but i’ll leave those for another time.

They cast aside all the relationships they’ve built. [...] They lost/walked away from the life and home they built in the bunker. Dean got a season 1 death. Sam got a season 1 life.

I feel that there is a very huge difference between regression and progression when it comes to cyclical storytelling. And that difference seems to be missing from the ongoing discussions i’ve seen about this in fandom.

Coming full circle to season 1 does not at all mean that the development is ‘undone’ or that the story has regressed or that anything has been lost or destroyed. It can mean that, if the storyteller doesn’t know what the hell they’re doing, but in this case i don’t (personally) feel it’s a fair critique.

Dean’s death might parallel his s1 not-quite death from Faith, but the s15 result of that death is night and day. Dean is no longer alone. Dean does not go up to a lonely heaven filled with bittersweet memories, where even his canonical soulmate and him have wide gulfs between the memories they fill their shared heaven with. Dean dies a hunter, but he dies a hunter who literally saved earth and changed heaven and gets to spend eternity with his brother, side-by-side and together without all the pain and miscommunication, and he gets to see his family and loved ones too. he died having literally made the world so much better.

even without that though?

his story comes full circle, but dean’s character development isn’t about his death, it’s about the fact that in the first several seasons dean could hardly admit he cared without acting like his teeth were being pulled. he was too afraid of abandonment to ask for someone to be by his side. he was too afraid of rejection to let anyone in. and in the end? he asks sam to stay. he tells him that he loves him. he pours his heart out and says all the things that 15 years ago were stoppered in his throat, words trying and failing to claw their way free but his hurt and fears were too deep.

dean is free.

the point of dean’s story coming full circle to season 1 parallels was specifically to highlight this incredible development, not to undermine it. he is different. he is free. 

god it makes me tear up just thinking about how happy i am for him despite how gutted i was by that scene??

(i could write a similar analysis for sam, about how he left for stanford to escape his life and how his finale life montage bits were the opposite of that, but honestly this post is long enough already).

Destiel is loosely a part of that promise in the sense that Castiel is a part of that promise. The symbol of free will

You make a super interesting argument about Cas being a symbol of free will. I don’t have much to say about it, because I’m gonna mull it over, because I think it’s kinda cool and I’ve never thought about it.

That’s - all i’ve got. thanks again for engaging. i’m happy to continue the convo if you have questions or want to reblog/reply 

(though my followers might hate me omg, i’ve been spamming long spn meta posts for weeks now, it’s just been so confronting to see the ongoing fan reaction on twitter and how divided it is...)

[yurimother]

LGBTQ Light Novel Review: Sexiled Vol. 2

I recently became distraught over the state of light novels when an English license of Buck Naked in Another World was announced (obviously, that is was the problem with isekai harems, too much PANTS). However, my sadness quickly turned to jubilation as I realized that I had the second volume of Sexiled loaded up and was able to throw myself into the phenomenal tale of women dismantling the patriarchy, obliterating misogynists with overpowered magic, and kissing. Ameko Kaeruda has penned another triumphant and empowering feminist power fantasy for all readers to enjoy.

The story begins shortly after the conclusion of the first volume. The all-girls adventuring party Lilium is now famous after their spectacular win at the sparring tournament and enjoys their elevated status, one of the perks of which is a VIP table at their favorite restaurant. They are also responsible for supervising lower-ranked parties on quests. Usually, this involves men underestimating Lilium, attempting to show off and protect them, and then needing to be saved by the girls.

Just like the first volume, Sexiled 2 takes the opportunity to tell a few short stories highlighting gender inequalities from the real world. One such story involves the team representing at negotiations and a duel on behalf of a young woman who, after going out with some friends, was drugged and then forced into an engagement. When the slimeball man laced her drink and proposed, she did not say no, which he took as agreement. This narrative is an allegory for sexual assault, with the man drugging her drink and then taking her lack of ability to say no as consent. Kaeruda changes this structure slightly to being a woman forced into engagement instead of unwanted contact, which is understandable; these are delicate topics.

The main villain and story arc take more of a central state role here than in the first volume, which saw the antagonist act in the background as a driving force for Tanya to seek her revenge. It starts when Lillium gets invited to the palace for a party, which includes a side plot about the disparity in men’s and women’s fashion and footwear culminating in Laplace, still acting under the pseudonym Stone Cold Stunner, kneeling to present Tanya with a ring (gay).

While at the palace, the girls learn of the court grand mage Maxwell. He has served for the past 300 years as a dominant force in the country, manipulating it to become a sexist society where women are mistreated and forced to conform to unfair standards, all to sate his inferiority complex. More importantly, Laplace confesses that he is her father, who abused and experimented on her for his gain. When some of Maxwell's misdeeds finally caught up to him, he framed and imprisoned her. However, encouraged by Tanya’s ability to stand up for herself (and the love shared between the two), Laplace is finally able to face him.

The second half of the book features the epic showdown between Lilium and Maxwell. It is satisfying and grand; however, I, unfortunately, had a few issues with it. For one, while the battle has an excellent flow and builds during it, there is not much time for Maxwell to be established as a complete and motivating adversary, making some of the payoffs feel unearned. It is also hard to track Maxwell’s motivations and various schemes, he is making an immortal bride army cloned after Laplace, but he also wants to use her blood to create immortality, and he is going to drain all the mana in the city FullMetal Alchemist style. There is just a bit too much coming at the reader too fast for it to stick.

Fortunately, there are plenty of aspects in this light novel deserving of love and praise. The humor is spot-on; it is outrageous, profane, and injected with just the right amount of meme culture. Laplace proclaiming, “We’re not in trouble yet! This isn’t even my final form… I still have 530,000 more phases to go!” is outrageous but also profoundly in character for the confident sorcerous. The most excellent bits of comedy always involves the absurd amount of power the women of Lilium have. Whether they are taking over a jail cell and redecorating it with posh furniture, sneaking a midnight snack from the emperor’s refrigerator, or punching the living mana out of some sexist pig, there is always such a sense of fun and adventure, not to mention female empowerment!

Another huge positive for this volume is that it expands outwards with a few more interesting side characters, such as the princess Arianora, who is a vital part of the grand battle with Maxwell. It even features a few male characters that are not complete evil bastards, one of my few complaints about the first volume. Tanya reflects on her surprise when she meets a man who is as inspired by Lilium as the many young women in the novel, saying, “Male or female, it doesn’t matter. The circumstances of your birth should never deter you from following your heart.” That sentiment is quality feminism, and I adore its inclusion.

Additionally, the returning minor characters get some more love in this volume. Nadine uses some of her secret assassin skills to dismantle opponents and sexist traditions with frightening speed. She has a few scenes devoted to her acting without Tanya or Laplace, making her a dynamic character for the occasional B storyline. Katherine Foxxi, a minor antagonist from the first volume who, after being shown kindness by Nadine and realizing her greatest desire is to help people, joins Lilium and frequently accompanies Nadine on her quests. This B team has some of the best moments in the novel, such as when Katherine chooses to fight Maxwell, giving Nadine the chance to slip away in a dramatic and thrilling sequence. However, there are too few moments when all four women work together at one task, which somewhat destroys the idea that they are one team of equals, especially considering how much more powerful Tanya and Laplace are from the others.

Volume 2 takes steps away from the possible love triangle I predicted in my review of Volume 1. While there were initially romantic inclinations between Nadine, Tanya, and Laplace, Kaeruda pulls back Nadine’s involvement with the two, leaving the magi-knight and sorceress most of the romantic moments. These scenes are never exessive or grotesque and usually consists of the two embracing or holding hands. While the characters make a few more sexual jibes and speak of kissing, deeper physical contact between characters is minimalized. This censorship is both an upside, as it allows for a greater focus on the plot, and a detriment, as characters are clearly romantically involved, but the reader is told this more than they are shown it. There are, however some choice nuggets of Yuri goodness such as the ring scene previously mentioned and Tanya inspiring Laplace to stand up against her abusive father. Of course, having too many sexual moments may undermine the point of Sexiled, so I ultimately applaud Kaeruda on the restraint.

While I have minor grievances with many pieces of the light novel, the positives vastly outweighed the negatives. Unfortunately, there is one aspect of Sexiled that I cannot reconcile, the illustrations. The opening full-color pieces of artwork are adequate. Still, within the book, readers are too often greeted with atrocious sketches with inconsistent character appearances that often appear warped and stretched. Setting the poor quality artwork alongside Kaeruda’s fantastic script and Molly Lee’s excellent translation damns them that much harder, and so the illustrations detract significantly from the work.

Sexiled: My Party leader kicked Me Out, So I Teamed Up With a Mythical Sorceress! Volume 2 is another excellent and empowering female power fantasy. While it makes minor missteps in its pacing and artwork, the hilarious and thoughtful narrative will leave readers feeling emboldened and affirmed. This volume cements Sexiled as one of the greatest light novel series I have ever read and an absolute must-read for all fans of the medium, and frankly many of its detractors too.

Ratings: Story – 9 Characters – 9 Art  – 3 LGBTQ – 5 Sexual Content – 3 Final – 8

Review copy provided by J-Novel Club

Check out Sexiled Volume 2 digitally today: https://amzn.to/35ZObR2 (Affiliate Link)

[aaronmaurer]

TV I Liked in 2020

Every year I reflect on the pop culture I enjoyed and put it in some sort of order.

Was there ever a year more unpredictably tailor-made for peak TV than 2020? Lockdowns/quarantines/stay-at-home orders meant a lot more time at home and the occasion to check out new and old favorites. (I recognize that if you’re lucky enough to have kids or roommates or a S.O., your amount of actual downtime may have been wildly different). While the pandemic resulted in production delays and truncated seasons for many shows, the continued streaming-era trends of limited series and 8-13 episode seasons mean that a lot of great and satisfying storytelling still made its way to the screen. As always, I in no way lay any claims to “best-ness” or completeness – this is just a list of the shows that brought me the most joy and escapism in a tough year and therefore might be worth putting on your radar.

10 Favorites

10. The Right Stuff: Season 1 (Disney+)

As a space program enthusiast, even I had to wonder, does the world really need another retelling of NASA’s early days? Especially since Tom Wolfe’s book has already been adapted as the riveting and iconoclastic Philip Kaufman film of the same name? While some may disagree, I find that this Disney+ series does justify its existence by focusing more on the relationships of the astronauts and their personal lives than the technical science (which may be partially attributable to budget limitations?). The series is kind of like Mad Men but with NASA instead of advertising (and real people, of course), so if that sounds intriguing, I encourage you to give it a whirl.

9. Fargo: Season 4 (FX)

As a big fan of Noah Hawley’s Coen Brothers pastiche/crime anthology series, I was somewhat let down by this latest season. Drawing its influence primarily from the likes of gangster drama Miller’s Crossing – one of the Coens’ least comedic/idiosyncratic efforts – this season is more straightforward than its predecessors and includes a lot of characters and plot-threads that never quite cohere. That said, it is still amongst the year’s most ambitious television with another stacked cast, and the (more-or-less) standalone episode “East/West” is enough to make the season worthwhile.

8. The Last Dance (ESPN)

Ostensibly a 10-episode documentary about the 1990s Chicago Bulls’ sixth and final NBA Championship run, The Last Dance actually broadens that scope to survey the entire history of Michael Jordan and coach Phil Jackson’s careers with the team. Cleverly structured with twin narratives that chart that final season as well as an earlier timeframe, each episode also shifts the spotlight to a different person, which provides focus and variety throughout the series. And frankly, it’s also just an incredible ride to relive the Jordan era and bask in his immeasurable talent and charisma – while also getting a snapshot of his outsized ego and vices (though he had sign-off on everything, so it’s not exactly a warts-and-all telling).

7. The Queen’s Gambit (Netflix)

This miniseries adaptation of the Walter Tevis coming-of-age novel about a chess prodigy and her various addictions is compulsively watchable and avoids the bloat of many other streaming series (both in running time and number of episodes). The 1960s production design is stunning and the performances, including Anya Taylor-Joy in the lead role, are convincing and compelling.

6. The Great: Season 1 (hulu)

Much like his screenplay for The Favourite, Tony McNamara’s series about Catherine the Great rewrites history with a thoroughly modern and irreverent sensibility (see also: Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette). Elle Fanning brings a winning charm and strength to the title role and Nicholas Hoult is riotously entertaining as her absurdly clueless and ribald husband, Emperor Peter III. Its 10-episodes occasionally tilt into repetitiveness, but when the ride is this fun, why complain? Huzzah!

  5. Dispatches From Elsewhere (AMC)

A limited (but possibly anthology-to-be?) series from creator/writer/director/actor Jason Segal, Dispatches From Elsewhere is a beautiful and creative affirmation of life and celebration of humanity. The first 9 episodes form a fulfilling and complete arc, while the tenth branches into fourth wall-breaking meta territory, which may be a bridge too far for some (but is certainly ambitious if nothing else). Either way, it’s a movingly realized portrait of honesty, vulnerability and empathy, and I highly recommend visiting whenever it inevitably makes its way to Netflix, or elsewhere…

4. What We Do in the Shadows: Season 2 (FX)

The second season of WWDITS is more self-assured and expansive than the first, extending a premise I loved from its antecedent film – but was skeptical could be sustained – to new and reinvigorated (after)life. Each episode packs plenty of laughs, but for my money, there is no better encapsulation of the series’ potential and Matt Berry’s comic genius than “On The Run,” which guest-stars Mark Hamill and features Laszlo’s alter ego Jackie Daytona, regular human bartender.

3. Ted Lasso: Season 1 (AppleTV+)

Much more than your average fish-out-of-water comedy, Jason Sudeikis’ Ted Lasso is a brilliant tribute to humaneness, decency, emotional intelligence and good coaching – not just on the field. The fact that its backdrop is English Premier League Soccer is just gravy (even if that’s not necessarily represented 100% proficiently). A true surprise and gem of the year.

2. Mrs. America (hulu)

This FX miniseries explores the women’s liberation movement and fight for the Equal Rights Amendment in the 1970s and its opposition by conservative women including Phyllis Schlafly. One of the most ingenious aspects of the series is centering each episode on a different character, which rotates the point of view and helps things from getting same-y. With a slate of directors including Ryan Bowden and Anna Fleck (Half-Nelson, Sugar, Captain Marvel) and an A-List cast including Cate Blanchett, Rose Byrne, Uzo Aduba, Sarah Paulson, Margo Martindale, Tracey Ulman and Elizabeth Banks, its quality is right up there with anything on the big screen. And its message remains (sadly) relevant as ever in our current era.

1. The Good Place: Season 4 (NBC)

It was tempting to omit The Good Place this year or shunt it to a side category since only the final 4 episodes aired in 2020, but that would have been disingenuous. This show is one of my all-time favorites and it ended perfectly. The series finale is a representative mix of absurdist humor and tear-jerking emotion, built on themes of morality, self-improvement, community and humanity. (And this last run of eps also includes a pretty fantastic Timothy Olyphant/Justified quasi-crossover.) Now that the entire series is available to stream on Netflix (or purchase in a nice Blu-ray set), it’s a perfect time to revisit the Good Place, or check it out for the first time if you’ve never had the pleasure.

5 of the Best Things I Caught Up With

Anne With An E (Netflix/CBC)

Another example of classic literature I had no prior knowledge of (see also Little Women and Emma), this Netflix/CBC adaptation of Anne of Green Gables was strongly recommended by several friends so I finally gave it a shot. While this is apparently slightly more grown-up than the source material, it’s not overly grimdark or self-serious but rather humane and heartfelt, expanding the story’s scope to include Black and First Nations peoples in early 1800s Canada, among other identities and themes. It has sadly been canceled, but the three seasons that exist are heart-warming and life-affirming storytelling. Fingers crossed that someday we’ll be gifted with a follow-up movie or two to tie up some of the dangling threads.

Better Call Saul (AMC)

I liked Breaking Bad, but I didn’t have much interest in an extended “Breaking Bad Universe,” as much as I appreciate star Bob Odenkirk’s multitalents. Multiple recommendations and lockdown finally provided me the opportunity to catch up on this prequel series and I’m glad I did. Just as expertly plotted and acted as its predecessor, the series follows Jimmy McGill/Saul Goodman on his own journey to disrepute but really makes it hard not to root for his redemption (even as you know that’s not where this story ends).

Joe Pera Talks With You (Adult Swim)

It’s hard to really describe the deadpan and oddly soothing humor of comedian Joe Pera whose persona, in the series at least, combines something like the earnestness of Mr. Rogers with the calm enthusiasm of Bob Ross. Sharing his knowledge on the likes of how to get the best bite out of your breakfast combo, growing a bean arch and this amazing song “Baba O’Reilly” by the Who – have you heard it?!? – Pera provides arch comfort that remains solidly on the side of sincerity. The surprise special he released during lockdown, “Relaxing Old Footage with Joe Pera,” was a true gift in the middle of a strange and isolated year.

The Mandalorian (Disney+)

One of the few recent Star Wars properties that lives up to its potential, the adventures of Mando and Grogu is a real thrill-ride of a series with outstanding production values (you definitely want to check out the behind-the-scenes documentary series if you haven’t). I personally prefer the first season, appreciating its Western-influenced vibes and somewhat-more-siloed story. The back half of the second season veers a little too much into fan service and video game-y plotting IMHO but still has several excellent episodes on offer, especially the Timothy Olyphant-infused energy of premiere “The Marshall” and stunning cinematography of “The Jedi.” And, you know, Grogu.

The Tick (Amazon Prime)

I’ve been a fan of the Tick since the character’s Fox cartoon and indie comic book days and also loved the short-lived Patrick Warburton series from 2001. I was skeptical about this Amazon Prime reboot, especially upon seeing the pilot episode’s off-putting costumes. Finally gaining access to Prime this year, I decided to catch up and it gets quite good!, especially in Season 2. First, the costumes are upgraded; second, Peter Serafinowicz’s initially shaky characterization improves; and third, it begins to come into its own identity. The only real issue is yet another premature cancellation for the property, meaning Season 2’s tease of interdimensional alien Thrakkorzog will never be fulfilled. 😢

Bonus! 5 More Honorable Mentions:

City So Real (National Geographic)

The Good Lord Bird (Showtime)

How To with John Wilson: Season 1 (HBO)

Kidding: Season 2 (Showtime)

Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt: Kimmy Vs The Reverend (Netflix)

[phoenix-downer]

How would you personally rank the Kingdom Hearts games? Storywise, that is.

In terms of story alone, discounting gameplay (and insert disclaimer here that this is all my personal opinion):

1. KH1 and KH2 are tied for first place for me. KH1 is just so magical. It has this sense of awe and wonder and mystery and hope and bittersweetness and nostalgia. Sora’s sacrifice for Kairi will forever stick with me, and everything that occurred from Hollow Bastion onward elevates the game from “really good” to masterpiece. And KH2 has the best ending of the series. I tear up every time I see it. So, so satisfying to experience after everything the characters go through up till that point. Sora and Kairi reuniting is just... it makes the ending of KH1 (which is beautiful in its own right) that much better, and it was so lovely to see Roxas and Naminé living on through them, despite what they’d been told about Nobodies having to cease to exist. 

2. KH3 including ReMind. ReMind really completed KH3 for me and elevated the whole game because it showed just how far Sora was willing to go to save Kairi, and his compassion for his friends’ suffering was really moving. That plot point has been teased since Re:coded, and this time he was able to bear their hurt without it breaking them. Being there with him for his journey over the years just makes me feel really proud of who he is now. And Kairi getting to fight is technically gameplay I suppose, but man was it satisfying, especially because we got to fight the guy who was responsible for her “death.” Her fighting by Sora’s side was what I’d been wanting ever since I played KH1 and KH2, so yes playing through ReMind was immensely satisfying, haha. 

3. BBS has such a good ending in Blank Points that it elevates not only BBS but the entire series. Plus I like the whole “tragic heroes” angle with the Wayfinder Trio, and Eraqus and Xehanort’s relationship fascinates me. 

(I keep waffling back and forth on how to rank KH3 and BBS. Without ReMind, I’d definitely rank BBS higher, and probably Chain of Memories and Reverse/Rebirth higher than KH3 as well, but again ReMind really elevates KH3 for me). 

4. Chain of Memories and Reverse/Rebirth. Really excellent, strong story for Sora, Riku, and Naminé. I loved the themes it dealt with, and watching Naminé stand up to her captors and Sora kick Marluxia’s butt was immensely satisfying. So was Riku’s journey to rediscover himself and forge his own path, and his moments with Mickey were really touching. 

5. Kingdom Hearts Coded/Recoded. Maybe it’s a surprise I have it here, but the ending was fantastic and actually made me cry. It set things up so beautifully for future KH games too with revealing to the audience what Sora needs to do to save his friends. Mickey being so supportive of Data Sora was the kind of Mickey and Sora interaction I didn’t know I needed. Data Sora and Data Riku’s interactions were great too, gave me Steve and Bucky vibes, and it was so nice to see even data versions of them get to work together like that. 

6. Kingdom Hearts 0.2. Really got me excited for KH3, and I enjoyed the deeper dive into Aqua’s psyche. The moment where Terra protected her and Ven are top-notch, and her battle to protect Riku stuck with me too. 

7. Back Cover. In some ways I wonder why it’s all the way down here on this list because the Master of Masters stuff was great and had me wanting more. I guess the lack of closure kind of hurts it, but it was still an enjoyable watch and got me interested in the Foretellers. 

8. KHUx. I struggled with where to rank this one, because the story itself is really intriguing, but the presentation of it is frustrating with updates being rare. I wish the game updated more frequently, and I hope the story is released as a cutscene movie at some point a la Back Cover because I’d love to experience it all at once. The recent revelations have been tugging at my heartstrings, so I can only imagine what it would be like to experience the story with full voiced cutscenes!

9. Dream Drop Distance. This one is so near the bottom because its highs are really high but its lows are reaaaaally low. The time travel stuff is a mess, Kairi barely being in the plot really doesn’t have a good excuse, and Sora’s characterization doesn’t feel consistent with how you’d expect him to act after KH2 (thankfully KH3 fixed this but I digress). However, the “you treat people like bottles on a shelf” speech from Sora to Xigbar is fantastic, the whole “Sora almost gets norted” plotline was also really good, Sora and Riku being so supportive of each other shows how far they’ve come since KH1 days, and Riku’s arc in this game is just so amazing that really, it almost makes up for everything else. I just wish Riku being such a badass didn’t have to come at the cost of Sora’s characterization, but like I said, KH3 fixed my issues with that (but then handed Riku the incompetence ball unfortunately, but that’s a discussion to be had another day). 

10. 358/2 Days. A controversial choice, I know, and please don’t take this to mean I think Days is terrible! Much like DDD, it’s a flawed game that does some things very well; I just enjoyed DDD more personally. Again, this is all pretty subjective, and I have been informed I did things wrong by watching the cutscene movie before playing the game. I think that probably impacted my experience of the story (plus Xion’s death was spoiled for me). The plot was also really overhyped for me I think? There just wasn’t any way it could realistically live up to the expectations people had set for me. I also don’t think I played the game at the right time of my life. The people who seem to love it the most are the ones who first played it as kids or teens, and I was an adult by the time I got around to it. So I think the theme of struggling with identity/what it means to exist just didn’t impact me as hard. It’s like if you try to watch My Neighbor Totoro for the first time as an adult. It just doesn’t land the same.

Thanks for the ask! Again, this is all just my personal opinion, and I’m curious to hear how you’d rank the games!