#the design philosophy is just very different between the two games and I’m happy for the experimentation

[allyouneediskilly]

i massively enjoyed my time with rise/sunbreak and I’ll no doubt keep playing it, but i finally jumped into world and im not trying to be too corny but i am genuinely overwhelmed by how beautiful it all is.

[yukidragon]

Our Life Snippet - Lazy Morning Intimacy

So, who’s ready for an extra long serving of shameless fluff from the first draft of my fan novelization of Our Life: Beginnings & Always? My philosophy in writing this is if I can add some more fluffy cuddly moments, I absolutely will, and the Step 3 moment Reflection offers one such opportunity right at the very start before, well, those of you who have played this moment know what happens later.

Spoilers for those who have not played the Step 3 DLC! If you don’t want to be spoiled, don’t read any further! If you don’t mind spoilery stuff, well, don’t let me stop you, but I highly, highly encourage you to play through the game before reading any of this.

As always, thanks go to @gb-patch for their wonderful game and their lovely feedback for my work, as well as everyone who likes, reblogs, and comments on these clips I’m posting here. You are all awesome.  💖

...

It wasn’t often that Jamie had the chance to enjoy breakfast at the Holden house. Ever since their parents decreed that they were ‘too old’ for sleepovers, she and Cove didn’t have many opportunities to enjoy that particular meal together, which made today a rare treat. It wasn’t especially fancy fare, but it was lovely to be able to spend time with her boyfriend almost as soon as she woke up. She was glad she impulsively asked if he wanted to have breakfast with her when they exchanged their usual good morning texts.

After a pleasant meal filled with light conversation and tasty food, Cove invited Jamie to retreat to his room to relax and let the lazy morning linger before any big activities began. That was, if they didn’t just decide to take it easy for the rest of the day. Neither of them had any plans in particular, with no prior commitments with friends, family, or work to distract them from just spending the day together. It wasn’t officially a date day, per say, or at least neither of them called it that yet. So far, they just decided to do whatever came to mind while enjoying each other’s company.

Of course, the first thing that came to Jamie’s mind was to cuddle with her boyfriend. When Cove sat down onto the bed, she didn’t hesitate to take a seat beside him, leaning into him. He hummed happily in approval and looped an arm around her to pull her in even closer.

A mischievous smile tugged at her lips as a new thought came to mind, and Jamie leaned in even closer. Cove raised an eyebrow at expression, only to yelp when she unexpectedly pushed her weight into him and tipped him back onto the bed. She fell along with him, giggling as they tumbled onto the mattress

Cove let out a chuckle of his own once he recovered from his surprise. “When I said we could relax, I didn’t mean going back to bed,” he said with a wry smile. Even still, he allowed her to nudge him gently back to the headboard so that they could both lounge comfortably on the bed properly with their heads resting on the pillows side by side. 

Jamie flashed Cove a satisfied grin before she snuggled up against his side, nuzzling her cheek against his as she basked in his gentle warmth. “You also said to make myself comfortable,” she teased, her eyes sparkling playfully as she rested her arm across his chest. “I’m very comfortable like this.”

Cove felt his heartbeat quicken, and he smiled back fondly at Jamie, nuzzling her cheek in return. “Me too,” he said softly.

Though maybe he was a little too comfortable.

Cove couldn’t help but be aware of the fact that they were both lying in his bed together. A prickling of nerves rose up that he quickly did his best to tamp down to not ruin the intimate moment they were sharing. It was fine, no big deal, he told himself. They were both fully dressed, on top of the sheets, and it was broad daylight. They cuddled plenty of times like this before on sofas and the ground. Heck, this was nothing compared to when they shared a bed when they were younger.

The flickering of nervousness didn’t escape Jamie’s notice. She softened her expression and reached up to gently run her fingers through her shy boyfriend’s hair. She had intended to steal a kiss or two and see where that would take them, but she decided that could wait until later. Just enjoying this moment with Cove was enough for her.

The touch was soothing, and Cove slowly started to relax as he leaned into Jamie. The anxious air that had threatened to pull him out of the moment gradually dissipated as her comforting warmth slowly settled in. Soon, he felt at ease enough to slip his arm back around her, which she happily used as her new pillow. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing the content expression on his partner’s face as she smiled softly back at him.

A comfortable silence washed over the pair as they simply enjoyed the quiet moment of intimacy. At some point, Jamie went from stroking Cove’s hair to toying with it. His ponytail limited her in how much she could card her fingers through his hair, but there were plenty of long locks to ripple between her fingers.

It wasn’t the first time Jamie got the impulse to play with her boyfriend’s hair. Even before he was officially - or even unofficially - her boyfriend, she couldn’t help but want to run her fingers through those pretty pale green strands. When they were younger, Cove would jokingly try to avoid her hands, but always ‘failed’ to escape in the end, allowing her to have her way. Sometimes she teased him back by pretending to give up, and he would always pout adorably, which she would immediately chase away with a satisfying ruffle of his hair.

Occasionally, Jamie would go beyond playing to actual styling. She was no professional, but it was fun to wind her boyfriend’s hair into a braid or two sometimes. Cove never minded, even if the braids rarely lasted that long after she was finished making them. It also didn’t escape her notice that he would sometimes shiver or let out an adorable pleasured little mumble when she raked her fingers along his scalp. It was an enjoyable experience for both of them, and sometimes she suspected that was one of the reasons why he let his hair grow as long as he did.

Jamie had no such grand designs now. Today she simply basked in the freedom to enjoy the feeling of his soft hair sliding between her fingers as she listened to the happy noises her partner occasionally let slip.

Although much more at ease, Cove couldn’t help the small traces of nervous energy that left him with the need to do something with his hands. He ran his thumb across her shoulder with the hand that was limited by Jamie resting on the upper part of his arm. With his freer hand, he decided to return the favor she paid to him and ran his fingers through her long deep blue hair, starting with stroking back her bangs before sliding his hand down along the entire length of her hair until he reached the ends at her hips. The feeling was soft and silky, and she sighed softly at the attention.

On impulse, Cove poked one of the small buns on top of his girlfriend’s head. Space buns were her preferred hairstyle of choice nowadays, and there was something satisfying about poking them that he couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was the feel of them, or the way the bunched up hair bounced when poked that did it, but most likely it was because of the amused looks Jamie gave him whenever he did. She wore one such expression now, and he couldn’t help but chuckle a bit before giving her bun another playful poke.

Entertained, Jamie let Cove have her way with her buns, poking and prodding them as he pleased. The potential for innuendo wasn’t lost on her, but she let it go unsaid. As fun as it would be to make him flustered by suggesting that he might enjoy playing with a different set of buns she had even more, she didn’t want to interrupt the light, playful moment.

Jamie would just save that little bit of wordplay for later, preferably when the mood was good enough that Cove might take her up on the invitation.

Despite the steamy thoughts that skirted through her mind, Jamie did her best to focus on enjoying the lazy moment between them. It was lovely to just share such casual intimacy with Cove.

Jamie wasn’t alone in trying to ignore her more hormonal urges. As much as Cove enjoyed playing with her hair, focusing on touching her as he did made it impossible for him to stop thinking about the fact that they were both lying on his bed together. He was keenly aware of the gentle warmth of her body pressed against him, how soft and inviting her pink lips looked as she smiled at him.

Eventually, Cove realized he needed something else to occupy his hands if he didn’t want to risk disrupting the peaceful moment. Shifting about a bit, he fished his cell phone out of his pocket. Although Jamie raised an eyebrow at that and at being displaced from her cozy spot when he moved around, she held no objections as he turned his phone on and busied himself with it. Instead, she simply readjusted her position to get comfortable once he was settled again.

Sifting through missed texts and emails, Cove soon managed to distract himself from the urges that ruffled his nerves and relaxed back into the moment. He spotted a number of texts he missed from his dad, and for a moment he wondered if everything was okay until he realized Cliff just sent him a bunch of images last night.

A warm smile graced his face as Cove slowly scrolled his way through the photographs, nostalgia washing over him. Each photo brought him back to the moment it was taken, allowing him to lose himself in the priceless memories he shared with his friends, family, and especially the special person he held so comfortably close at that very moment.

Some photos brought back sweet memories, others a little more on the bitter side of sweet, and then there were the funnier ones. One such silly photo seized Cove’s attention, and he couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped him.

The sound immediately snapped Jamie out of her relaxed stupor and brought her back to the present. She raised an eyebrow at Cove, but he failed to notice her questioning look, too preoccupied by whatever was on his phone’s screen.

“What’s so funny?” Jamie asked as she propped herself up on her arm to get a better look at his face and catch a glimpse of the phone’s screen.

Cove finally turned to look at Jamie, his eyes crinkled with mirth and a smirk playing on his lips. “Dad scanned some old photos,” he chuckled. “You know…”

Now that Jamie was no longer using his arm as a pillow, Cove was free to use it to draw a rectangle in the air. “Printed out ones,” he explained, “back from when I was little.” He waved his phone a bit with his other hand. “He texted it all to me last night, I guess. I’ve been checking them out.”

Jamie sat up completely, her dark blue eyes flying open wide. “You were looking at your kiddie photos and didn’t tell me?!” she gasped, almost scandalized at missing out on something so priceless.

Cove barely resisted the urge to chuckle, offering Jamie a bent smile as his eyes narrowed playfully. “I was gonna show you.” His gaze then slid away to his phone as his expression turned a little more hesitant. “I just wanted to look at it first to make sure there was nothing super embarrassing. You never know with my dad.”

His mouth pulled into a grimace as Cove could easily imagine all sorts of horrors his dad might have captured on film to unintentionally humiliate him until the end of time. “I mean… what if there’s a photo of me getting potty trained or something?”

Although Jamie empathized with his worries, she couldn’t help but giggle at the fraught expression Cove wore. “Yeah, that sounds like something your dad would do.”

Cove could only respond by clearing his throat nervously, his eyes skirting away from Jamie as he sat up as well. While he hadn’t come across any particularly humiliating photo of himself, he couldn’t quite shake the fear of what his dad’s well-meaning actions might have left for him to deal with this time.

Jamie offered her boyfriend a sympathetic smile before adding a slight bent to it. “Hey, how about this - if you let me look at your embarrassing baby photos, I’ll show you just as many of mine. My moms have plenty of them.”

The offer was tempting. Cove couldn’t help but wonder what sort of photos Jamie had in mind, but the price was just too steep. He merely chuckled awkwardly and shook his head as he pointedly kept his phone tilted away from her. She huffed and puffed out her cheeks in a mock pout at him for holding out on her, which elicited a genuine bout of laughter from him.

Once Cove got his mirth under control, he smiled at Jamie. “Anyway, before we forget, I was laughing ‘cause I came across a Halloween one from when I was eight. The year I was a zombie, remember?”

Jamie dropped her faux pout and nodded, her eyes lighting up eagerly. Cove shook his head at her excitement, a wry grin gracing his face as he finally offered the phone to her.

As Cove watched Jamie eagerly turn to his phone, he couldn’t help but shake his head again, this time at his kid self. “I never even liked zombies!” he said, a little baffled that he ever was so enthusiastic for such a costume. “All I wanted was to show off my new scar. And I needed to be something scary. I couldn’t be a normal person who had a scar, according to my eight-year-old mind.”

The photo displayed on the screen showed Cove from ten years in the past, and a pleasant wave of nostalgia washed over Jamie as she saw him the way he looked when they first met, minus the pink cast and plus a fair amount of makeup and fake blood. Little Cove posed for the camera with his fingers hooked like claws, his mouth open as though letting out what was probably supposed to be a fierce roar. She could easily remember the noises he made that night as he pretended to be a zombie on the hunt for brains. His hair looked even more wild and disheveled than it did after the most energetic day of play, going well with the tattered and ‘blood’ stained button up shirt he wore. His face was painted in gray down to his neck, marred with an array of fake scars that couldn’t compare to the real one on his arm.

Cove looked from Jamie to the phone and chuckled softly at the face his younger self pulled for the camera. “I was a little dork.”

Jamie eyed Cove at such self-depreciation before poking him on the nose. “You were a little cutie,” she insisted. “And now you’re a big cutie.”

Cove blinked at the playful action before blushing at the compliment. He had no words to reply to it except for a quiet, flustered chuckle as he rubbed his nose.

Jamie grinned at that reaction before turning back to the photo. As much as she enjoyed how adorable Cove looked while pretending to be a fierce monster, it was impossible to ignore the scar displayed so predominantly on his arm at that time. Her smile softened at the edges at the sight of such a large, jagged line of fresh skin that was such a deep and angry shade of red. The scar was a pale memory in the present, but back then it looked so painful, and at the time she found it hard not to worry about him and his comfort after his cast came off.

Still, Jamie refused to let that put a damper on the story and focused instead on just how much fun little Cove was having posing for the camera and remembering the way they played around with their costumes that night. She could vividly recall how she pretended to run away from him when he playfully growled that he wanted to eat her brains, and the memory made her smile grow stronger.

“Dad really wanted to be useful, as usual,” Cove said, bringing Jamie’s attention back to him in the present. Though he noticed the flicker of sadness that crossed her face and realized the reason for it, he was glad to see her perk up again just as quickly. “He came up with the idea of being an undead person. It was pretty good, huh?”

Jamie chuckled softly and nodded. “You had the best Halloween costume that year, hands down,” she said playfully. “I remember you getting lots of extra candy when adults realized the scar was real.” Her smile widened as she remembered just how jealous Lizzie had been at how much candy Cove got that year, especially since he only offered to share some of that extra candy with Jamie. “It must have been your greatest Halloween haul ever.”

Cove couldn’t help but chuckle as well as he thought back to that legendary candy haul as well. It took him a month to finish it all even with Jamie’s help.

Still, the topic of his scar brought his gaze back to the picture. Cove couldn’t help but compare the way it looked in the photo to its current appearance on his left arm. “I can’t believe how much larger my scar used to be,” he said quietly.

Jamie watched as Cove turned his focus to his arm with a soft smile on his face. He traced his fingers along the jagged line of pale flesh that remained with him even ten years on. It was an action that she had seen him do countless times, but it felt more significant in that moment.

A soft sigh escaped Cove, but his eyes and tone were playful. “Look at how tiny it is now.” He gave Jamie a look with big, pathetic eyes. “How am I gonna pretend to be tough without a big scar?”

It was a struggle for Jamie not to laugh at the expression Cove wore. “You better not do anything stupid to get a new scar,” she joked with a faux disapproving frown as she wagged a finger at him. “No matter how much you like them!”

Cove grinned back at Jamie. “I won’t.”

“Good,” Jamie said with a satisfied nod. “You’ve already got the coolest scar, no matter how small it gets.”

Cove felt his cheeks grow warm and his smile turned bashful. “Thanks.” He ducked his head away from Jamie, pleased with their joking exchange. Once again, his eyes drifted down to his scar as he continued to trace it.

“I really do like having this,” he admitted in a soft, shy voice. “Even if it is kind of little these days.”

Jamie’s expression softened as well, feeling as though Cove was sharing a big secret with her. She couldn’t help but feel happy to hear that he liked his scar despite whatever pain it must have caused him to get it. It was always wonderful whenever he opened up to her like this.

Cove glanced up at Jamie, a gentle smile gracing his lips. “I like yours, too.”

The unexpected compliment caught Jamie off guard, and heat rose in her cheeks, turning them pink. She couldn’t help but smile as she felt her chest flutter with butterflies. He never failed to think of her as well, especially since he knew that she was self-conscious of her own scars.

Unthinkingly, Jamie brought her hand up to her upper arm and traced some of the countless jagged little white lines that marred her pale skin. There were matching scars in the same place on her other arm, as well as her thighs and her chest. Unlike Cove, these scars were not the result of an accident, but her skin not being able to keep up with her sudden growth during puberty.

Back during her early teenage years when the stretch marks were fresh and an angry purplish-red, Jamie always kept them hidden. Puberty had been rough on her, dealing a blow to her self-esteem as well as her body, and being covered in so many scars left her feeling ugly even though she never once thought of Cove’s scar like that.

It took time for Jamie to accept her scars, and she knew that Cove was a big part of why. Seeing the way he took such quiet pride in his scar always made her question how she thought of hers. More than that, he always made her feel beautiful, and he was always the first to remind her  whenever she needed it. That was why she was no longer afraid to wear clothes that exposed her scars like she did now.

Jamie scooted in closer to Cove as she smiled adoringly at him, placing her hand on top of his. “Thank you, Cove.”

Cove turned back to face Jamie fully. He finally let go of his scar so that he could take her hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. He felt at peace with his scar and was happy to see the same reflected on her face as well. Their scars held such meaning to them despite coming from unhappy sources.

Jamie squeezed his hand back as she drifted even closer. “Could I touch your scar?”

Cove blinked, taken aback by the request. Usually, Jamie wasn’t shy about touching him without asking first, particularly someplace as innocent as his arm. Still, he quickly realized why she might hesitate to do that now and smiled gently at her as he nodded easily. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

Jamie gave Cove’s hand one more squeeze before letting go of it. Lightly, she pressed her fingertips against the edges of his scar. With great care, she slowly ran her thumb along the entire length of it, following the jagged angles the old wound took. The pale flesh was rough when compared to the rest of his skin, which was soft, but with goosebumps rising quickly along his arm as she stroked his scar.

The touch, so delicate and gentle, left Cove feeling a bit lightheaded. Jamie’s touch always felt wonderful and often left him feeling butterflies, but somehow the feel of her paying such careful attention to his scar was particularly powerful. A choked breath escaped him and a wobbly smile played across his face as he lost himself in the feeling.

The dizzied smile Cove wore along with the light pink of his cheeks drew Jamie in with the urge to do more. She locked eyes with him, staring deep into his aquamarine eyes as she took a hold of his arm and raised it up towards her.

A quiet gasp escaped Cove when she realized what Jamie had in mind. He couldn’t look away from her dark blue eyes as she stared so intently into him even as she placed a soft kiss on the old wound that marked him. The feeling of her lips, warm and soft, pressed so tenderly against that particular place sent shivers up his spine, and he let out a tiny squeak.

Jamie smiled against Cove’s skin as she appreciated his adorable reaction, as well as the way he looked at her with overwhelming adoration. She kissed him again and again, tracing the entire length of his scar with her lips like she did with her fingers before.

It was impossible for Cove to stay still when Jamie was showing him such affection. He reached up with his free hand to touch her arm. With his thumb, he brushed aside the edge of her open sleeve, giving him better access to the countless little white lines marking her pale skin. The texture was interesting, feeling so similar yet so different from his own scar. Because of their size and number, he found his fingers constantly alternating between soft skin and rougher tissue. It was difficult to trace any one scar from start to finish like she did for him, so instead he sought out to touch every single one.

The touch was electric, and Jamie could feel her heartbeat speed up as Cove caressed her so lovingly. “Cove…”

Cove shivered again as Jamie murmured his name against his skin, setting off sparks that made his body burn pleasantly. It urged him to lean forward, his eyes gleaming with the fire she set ablaze inside him.

Jamie raised her head and instinctively matched his movement, drawing nearer to Cove as her eyes drifted closed. She felt his lips gently meet hers, and she melted into the tender kiss. She held a little more firmly onto his arm as she fell deeper into him, feeling like she might drown in the depths of her feelings for him.

Cove all too quickly lost himself in the moment and in Jamie. It felt so wonderful, so right to be her like this, to touch and kiss her. He loved her so much that it was almost overwhelming, but knowing that she loved him as well kept him grounded.

Eventually they finally drifted apart, breathless and dazed from the kiss, their faces flushed with heat. When Jamie opened her eyes, she saw Cove gazing back at her with his mesmerizing ocean blue eyes. The look he gave her was spellbinding, filled with so much love and adoration that made her heart hammer hard against her ribcage. It told her without words that the feelings he had for her were just as immense as hers were for him.

Cove leaned in again, this time resting his forehead gently against Jamie’s. With heavy lidded eyes, he simply enjoyed gazing deeply into her blue eyes that always reminded him of the night sky. No matter how many times he saw them, they always captivated him. He could lose himself in those beautiful eyes of hers.

The feeling of his warm breath tickling her skin made Jamie shiver a little, especially the way it brushed against her lips like the ghost of a kiss. With their heads touching, his hand on her arm and hers on his, she felt entirely entwined with Cove. It felt so right.

Time ceased to have any meaning in that moment as they gazed deeply into their partner’s eyes and drank in the closeness and warmth they shared. Seconds or minutes might have passed, but neither of them cared as they lost themselves in each other.

[murasaki-murasame]

Thoughts on Higurashi Sotsu Ep8

They see Satoko rolling~~ They hating~~

Anyway, thoughts under the cut.

Not to be petty or anything but it’s getting more and more funny how like half of the fandom is going through the five stages of grief as it becomes increasingly obvious that this literally is meant to be a bridge between Higurashi and Umineko, lol.

I mean sure there’s always the chance that he decided to make a new Higurashi anime as a vehicle to elaborately troll the fans of a different, decade-old VN that was infamously way less popular than Higurashi was, but I think we can all agree that that just feels like coping at this point.

Now I’m just curious to see how many ways they’re gonna find to spell it out for us. We’ve seen Satoko bring up the idea of certainty multiple times while mocking Rika’s reliance on miracles, Featherine is literally a character in Higurashi now who gave Satoko her looping powers, they’ve referenced this new set of loops as a ‘game board’ with ‘pieces’ several times, and now they’ve literally used the word witch. Are we gonna see Satoko come up with the name Lambdadelta to describe her witch persona, like what happened with Rika? Are we going to get a look at Lambda’s character design from Umineko? Who knows at this point. Even after everything that’s happened up to now I didn’t expect them to actually bring up witches, since that doesn’t really fit with Higurashi’s whole Japanese mythology motif. But here we are.

Anyway, in spite of how pleased I am about the show barrelling towards the conclusion I’ve been predicting since like halfway into Gou, I’m definitely in the camp of thinking that Sotsu hasn’t needed to be anywhere near as long as it’s been thus far. I still think that a lot of it is just due to them wanting to cater to new fans as well as old ones, but I feel like even that only really applies to Oniakashi, since that’s the only answer arc thus far that’s actually built upon stuff from the VN answer arcs that Gou didn’t already cover. Wataakashi didn’t actually involve or rely on any material from Meakashi, so I honestly think that new fans could just have easily have figured out the mysteries to that in advance, and Tatariakashi also isn’t really based on any material from the VN. Tataridamashi was already more of an adaptation of Minagoroshi than Tatarigoroshi anyway. So it just feels like everything after Oniakashi could have just been summarized in a montage.

It’s kinda odd, since they have the whole framing device of Eua watching everything unfold, which could have been used more frequently as a way to skim over these arcs and just show the important bits, but we’ve only gotten a few scenes like this. It might have gotten a bit repetitive if they made it too frequent, but it’s also just kinda boring to spend most of each episode going over stuff we’ve already seen.

I think all of that is a genuine issue with the writing, and I doubt anything from this point on will retroactively improve it, but in spite of all that I still like what Ryukishi is trying to do with this series, and how it fits into the franchise as a whole.

I recently went back and reread some stuff from the VN to check it, and I feel like a lot of complaints people have with this series basically boil down to fundamental disagreements with how they view the story vs how Ryukishi himself does. I don’t think it’s wrong for people to disagree with him or see things differently, but still. Specifically, it feels like the whole premise of this series is built upon his afterword for Matsuribayashi where he talks about how that arc doesn’t actually represent the ‘ideal ending’ for Higurashi based on it’s world-view and philosophy, since it ends with Takano being the villain who everyone gangs up to defeat so that everyone except her can get a happy ending. He then poses that the ‘graduating question’ [aka where the title of this new series comes from, lol] is figuring out what the ideal ending would be, if it’s not Matsuribayashi. So in a lot of ways this is Ryukishi’s attempt to go back and fix his perceived mistakes with the VN, and the issue is just that a lot of people don’t think it even needed to be ‘fixed’ in the first place.

I’m not entirely sure how I feel about the sort of idealistic, non-violent philosophy of absolute forgiveness that Ryukishi seems to feel strongly about, but I honestly appreciate just how far he’s willing to go to explore and communicate that message in his writing. I think it takes a lot of courage to go back and re-examine a famous story you wrote from the perspective of ‘the way it ended wasn’t actually perfect, and here’s what would happen if we kept following the characters and saw all the consequences of what happened’.

Ironically, I kinda feel like a lot of this narrative stuff ends up feeling like a somewhat half-baked version of Umineko, since a large part of Umineko was already about revisiting and expanding upon the ideas of forgiveness and abuse from Higurashi, but in a less literal way than what Gou/Sotsu is doing.

Anyway, now that we’re a couple episodes into this arc, I’m getting less confident about how they’re going to wrap this all up by episode 15, if we aren’t getting some kind of unannounced continuation. We’re two episodes into this arc and thus far we’ve basically only covered the first two episodes of Tataridamashi, so unless the pacing picks way up after this, it might take this entire arc just to get through this loop, before even getting to the Nekodamashi stuff.

But on the other hand, I think that after this point in Tataridamashi we don’t really see Satoko again until near the end of it, so if we keep following her perspective, we might just gloss over all the protest stuff with the main crew, and we might be able to get all the way up to the end of this loop in just one more episode.

I dunno if that’d be enough time to set up the descent into self-doubt and regret that they seem to be setting up for Satoko, but there’s a lot they have to get through before this can all wrap up. I’m at least assuming there’ll be a full arc left after we catch up to the cliffhanger from Nekodamashi, anyway.

I don’t think this episode does a whole lot to affect my theory of how this arc will go from Satoko’s perspective, but i’m more unsure now about when she might start to doubt herself and go back on her plans, if she does at all.

The scene at the very end with Eua watching Satoko’s classroom breakdown is kinda interesting, though, since it made it more ambiguous than I expected as to what Satoko was thinking in that scene. On paper you’d just think that she’s continuing her whole charade, but the way that we zoom out and see it from Eua’s more antagonistic and judgmental perspective, and how we see Satoko’s eyes flash red for a split second as she starts freaking out, makes me kinda unsure just how much she was faking it.

Also I just have to admit that seeing Satoko rolling around in the dirt while laughing maniacally was genuinely hilarious, lol. I still think that a lot of this is meant to be morbidly funny in a self-aware way. 

[lifeofkaze]

An Art of Balance #29

Orion Amari x MC

A/N: Julian Bennett belongs to the wonderful @slytherindisaster

Word Count: ~ 3.300

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Chapter 29: Unbalanced

With the school year drawing to an end, the amount of attention spent in Professor Binns’s classes had dwindled even further. Half of the students enduring the dull droning of the ghost alongside Orion were asleep, the other was using the time to catch up on neglected assignments, so they could spend their afternoon outside. For all that Binns cared, they could have chucked their inkwells through the classroom.

Like the rest of the students, Orion’s mind was anywhere but on the Witch Trials of 1692. He was bent over a piece of parchment, drawing and crossing out lines and circles as he tried to come up with a decent match plan. The last game of the season was only a few days away and he still didn’t have the slightest idea how to let his team play against Gryffindor. He had been trying to think of something for the last two weeks, but nothing good would come to him.

The Gryffindor team was known for their speed and dexterity, both qualities combined in their seeker and captain, Charlie Weasley. Orion had either watched or participated in every game Charlie had played since he had joined his House team and he knew raw talent when he saw it. When Charlie set eyes on the Snitch, he was always the one to catch it, no exceptions so far. They would have to make sure to keep him out of the game as well as possible.

Having an idea about what strategy Charlie was going for would have helped Orion design an appropriate counterpart, but the Gryffindors had taken care. As of late, they had started training at odd hours, often at the break of dawn or just before sunset, so no one would watch their manoeuvres.

Being friends not only with their captain but some other players as well, Lizzie usually could provide at least some insight into the Gryffindor team’s plans; but since she and Charlie had stopped speaking to each other, she was as clueless as the rest of them.

Maybe Orion’s own strategy would have come easier to him had he known how to incorporate the newly changed dynamic in their own team into his thoughts. But the way Lizzie, Skye and himself were working together these days still felt foreign to him.

He knew Skye and Lizzie were practising on their own a lot; as a result, their playstyle had become attuned to each other and they had developed some new moves that only worked between the two of them. They did include Orion in their manoeuvres of course, but the perfect balance between them had shifted.

Tearing his eyes away from the playbook he was writing in, Murphy looked over at Orion's notes sceptically. “I hate to break this to you, but with that strategy your chances of winning against Gryffindor sink to a discouraging 22.4 % at best.” He tilted his head and squeezed his eyes as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. “If I interpret it correctly, that is… is that even a strategy chart?”

“Our thoughts need room to unfold before they can evolve into ideas,” Orion explained airily, although he knew full well his work certainly wasn’t what he would call productive. “It is no good judging a diamond before it is cut and polished. However, true wisdom only comes to those who know how to listen, so if you have any idea how to improve our odds, I’m all ears.“

Murphy chuckled at Orion’s long-winded admittance of being stuck. “Let me finish the design of my new move and I’ll think of something.” He snorted as he glanced at the confusing array of lines and arrows once again. “Anything’s better than that.”

With a sigh of relief Orion dropped his quill and let his gaze wander out of the window towards the Quidditch pitch. It was good to know Murphy was too involved with their team’s success to let them down; not that he would have anyway. Even though their philosophies couldn’t have been more different, both of them knew the other would always have their backs, no matter if it was about Quidditch or anything else.

But even with Murphy’s brilliant mind on the matter, he knew the best strategy was no use without a well-balanced team to carry it out. And balance was something not only his team, but he himself was seriously lacking these days.

Orion was still pondering on this when the class was dismissed what felt like hours later. When they emerged from the dingy classroom, he was surprised to find Skye waiting for them in the corridor. When she spotted Orion and Murphy, she pushed herself off the wall she had been leaning against and made her way over to them.

“According to my notes, you are supposed to have Divination right now,” Murphy greeted her with a surprised voice. “Was class cancelled? I did see Professor Trewlaney at breakfast and lunch though, if she didn’t fall ill in between lunch and now - which, by the way, only is 12.5 % likely - I’d say you’re skipping class. Which is not good, Skye,” he added reproachfully. “You might get removed from the team if you’re caught.”

Skye didn’t seem fazed by his concerns and merely shrugged them off. “Don’t worry, I told Trelawney I feel burdened by the stars and some other nonsense I came up with. She felt very sorry for me and let me go to ‘find respite from the grim fate that’s awaiting me��,” she snorted and rolled her eyes. “Getting out of this class is way too easy if you ask me.”

Orion wasn’t happy with her heedless attitude either. Skye being careless about attending her classes was the last thing he needed right now. “You shouldn’t risk the privileges we hold so readily,” he scolded her mildly. “Unfortunately, our team is not prepared to meet Gryffindor eye to eye on the pitch as of yet. You getting banned from Quidditch for unnecessarily missing classes would be a harsh blow to our team.”

Skye’s expression had turned serious. “I wouldn’t call it unnecessary; the team is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.” She fell in step beside them as they made their way to the dungeons; they had Potions scheduled next. “We have to do something to get everyone back on track, and fast; the match’s almost here and we’re in a damn sorry state right now.”

Orion sighed. “I understand and appreciate your concerns about the balance of our team; I share them as well. But the fragile unison between all of us is a delicate matter; one wrong step could make everything worse and easily lead us from the way to our goal onto the one headed for failure.”

Skye huffed incredulously. “Worse? Wake up, Orion; it’s never been worse since the early days before Lizzie joined the team.”

“I actually have to agree with Skye here,” Murphy chimed in. “Looking at the numbers alone, the Hufflepuff team is stronger than ever.

As always when he was delving into his statistics, his grey eyes lit up with excitement. “The precision of your Seeker improved by 44.2 % compared to when she started out on the team six years ago. Everett and Judith only miss 5.6 % of their shots and our Keeper deflects 68.9 % of all attempts on his goalposts, 72.6 % on a good day. But you Chasers… ,” he trailed off for a moment and then shrugged. “Well, I hate to say it, but it’s only you guys that are lacking in performance at the moment.”

“Cheers for stating the obvious, McNully,” Skye muttered glumly.

“My pleasure; the physical abilities to win the match are there, but the sideshows going on are distracting the whole team. Like this, the chances of a Cup dressed in yellow and gold diminish to 23.6 %; and as impartial as I am, I really don’t like that,” he couldn’t help but add.

“You’re right,” Orion conceded. “The Chasers are the weak link in the chain holding us together. You and Lizzie balance each other well, but between the three of us, we lack the harmony we used to share before… well, you know,” he trailed off; he generally tried to avoid speaking openly about what had happened between him and Lizzie a few weeks ago. He could push the thought into the back of his mind when he focused on something else, but it would resurface every now and again. Orion had tried to let it go many times, but so far his attempts had been unsuccessful; thinking about it still hurt.

“Agreed, it’s because of you and Lizzie,” Skye mercilessly brought the subject up again. “Stop talking around it. She always knew best how to showcase our playstyles at the same time.”

“She has a point,” Murphy surprisingly agreed. “Lizzie’s style of playing Chaser is the most balanced out of the three of you, for lack of a better word.” He laughed lightly at the thought of anyone being more balanced than the Hufflepuff captain. “She is a perfect mixture of Skye’s overly rash and aggressive offensive and your more cautious, tactical approach.”

Skye looked at Murphy for a moment, trying to decide whether he had insulted her or not. She let it pass, however. “Whatever McNully said, this is exactly why I’m here. We have to do something about this whole situation with you guys or we might as well hand the lions the cup without much bother.”

Orion didn’t answer her; the prospect of Skye meddling in his business was not a thought he found reassuring. He brushed his hair out of his face before fiddling with the tie of his uniform; it suddenly felt even more suffocating than usual.

“Sometimes the ventures that are seemingly the easiest to undertake turn out to be the most complicated ones,” Orion conceded; he knew Skye easily lost her patience and let a topic drop if he wasn’t getting straight to the point, but not this time.

“That’s nonsense,” she snorted. “The way I see it, you need to man up and Jameson needs a kick in her pretty behind to get her to stop moping.”

Both Murphy and Orion were silent; even for Skye, her words were unusually straightforward.

She waved her hand impatiently. “Don’t look at me like that, you know I’m right.”

Lowering her voice a bit, she looked down at her feet. “Seriously, I can’t stand her being so sad all the time; none of you deserves this. And besides,” she quickly added in an attempt to play over her genuine concern for her friends, “if we don’t get that bloody trophy this year I’m going to lose it, let me tell you!”

They had reached Snape’s classroom where most of the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins were already waiting for the class to begin. Skye turned to leave for their Common Room until her next class would start, but not without looking back over her shoulder one last time.

“I’m serious, captain. Fix things with her or I will do it for you, one way or another.”

*

Skye’s words never really left Orion for the next couple of days. They would pop up in his mind in regular intervals, making it almost impossible for him to focus on one thing for a longer period of time.

For one, he really didn’t want Skye to interfere and he knew she absolutely would; although she would never admit it, it was clear to see that he wasn’t the only one concerned about Lizzie. And while he knew Skye was invested, her approach was seldomly a gentle one. He shuddered at the thought of what she might come up with.

But what was even more than that, he knew that she was right.

He and Lizzie hadn’t spoken alone since their meeting on the stands, when she had told him about her decision. As much as it had pained him and still did, he had respected her choice, and left her alone; there was no need to hurt both of them any more than necessary.

Orion was reluctant to break the fragile peace between them but Skye had a point; if they didn’t manage to find some form of common ground, their prospects of winning against Gryffindor were anything but promising. He knew confronting her would reopen both their wounds they had worked so hard to patch up these last few weeks, but what he felt personally didn’t matter in that instance. He was the captain of his team and had to put their shared goals first.

Just as he had feared, fixing things with Lizzie was a thing easier said than done. She was hard to catch these days, especially for him. Ever since the Slytherin match Lizzie had made sure to keep a low profile. Always being involved with some friend group or another, more often than not right in the middle of the action, she kept to herself and spent most of her time somewhere on the Grounds, her dorm or the library; neither place was particularly suited to have a serious conversation.

It wasn’t until their last official practise before the final game of the season that Orion finally managed to get hold of her. Everyone but Lizzie, Skye, Murphy and himself had already left the changing room as they packed their things to return to the castle.

Skye gave Orion a pointed glance and nodded in Lizzie’s direction; she had her back to them as she was stowing away her Comet for the evening. Murphy was still pondering the final details of their strategy he had just presented to them; he looked up in surprise as Skye grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the tent.

Lizzie raised her head at the commotion to find herself alone with Orion. She immediately tensed and quickly secured the holdings of her broom before starting off towards the exit herself.

Orion reached to stop her instinctively. “Wait up, I need to talk to you for a moment.”

When he touched her arm, however, she flinched from his touch and he immediately pulled back; that certainly hadn’t been the best start.

Lizzie took a step back from him so she was out of his reach. He noticed how her shoulders tensed further as she looked at him, meeting his eyes only briefly.

“What can I help you with?”

Her tone was very formal; Orion knew it was her way of keeping more than just physical distance from him. He hated having to make her talk to him this way when she clearly didn’t want to; but the wellbeing of their team was his responsibility, so he ignored the sting he felt at her reaction and gave her a small smile.

“Our final match is nearly here and it is my duty as captain to make sure every member of our team is feeling balanced,” he explained. He knew she didn’t buy it by the way she was raising her eyebrows doubtfully. Even now, she could read him like a book.

“We haven’t talked for weeks now,” he admitted softly, “I wanted to know if you’re alright.”

For a short moment, he saw a trace of uncertainty flicker across her face before she regained control over her expression again. Her eyes dropped and she shuffled her feet uncomfortably.

“Is this about my performance today?” she asked contritely. “I know I’m not in the best state right now, I’ll do my best and be ready in time for the match, don’t worry.”

Orion shook his head. “No, you were doing a good job. While your way of playing seems to have changed, I welcome the newfound harmony between you and Skye. It is plain to see that your hearts are beating to the same rhythm when you are flying next to each other.” He tilted his head sideways, trying to catch her eyes that were still fixed on the ground. “But no chord is complete without all of its notes; if one is missing, the sound rings hollow. Like in a musical chord, there are three of us Chasers; and where you are one with Skye, the bond we shared is all but gone.”

Lizzie’s shoulders slumped and she sighed deeply. “I know,” she muttered and bit her lip. “I’m working on it, okay?”

They both knew that finding a common place, where they weren’t fazed by neither what was in their past nor what might have been in their future was an almost impossible feat. But for the sake of their team, they had to try.

“If I may offer my advice, I’d tell you to focus on what’s imminent instead of tearing yourself apart over something you cannot change anymore. Concentrate on the match; when we’re on the pitch, nothing else counts.” He smiled softly and a little bit sadder than he had meant to. “Leave what’s past in the past.”

She chuckled wryly. “You make that sound a lot easier than it actually is, Captain.”

Orion’s smile widened the slightest bit upon hearing her using her nickname for him. “I know that, Chaser,” he couldn’t help but play along, ”just remember, I told you time and time again, that whatever happens, I’m still your friend and I always will be. If it helps you overcome your difficulties, forget everything that happened this year; push it to the back of your mind where it won’t dampen your spirit anymore. Imagine we are the same we were when the year began.”

“Are we though?” she asked silently. “But what if I don’t want that?”

Raising her eyes, Lizzie finally met his gaze without shying away. She searched his face for any sign, any giveaway whether pretending like nothing had changed was what he himself wanted or not. She hadn’t looked at him that intensely since they had parted on the stands back in March; he felt the butterflies dancing in his stomach as his heart rate was speeding up.

Orion hesitated for a second when he raised his hand to touch her. This time, she didn’t flinch when he put his hand on her shoulder. He tried to not let the contact between them exceed the encouraging gesture of a team captain to another player, but he couldn’t ignore the tingles spreading from his palm into the rest of his body.

He tried to shake the feeling off by concentrating on what he had to say. “Listen up, Chaser; my advice as your captain is, take your struggle with you into the air. Use it, let it fuel your fire, because no one I know burns as brightly as you do. Ignite your fire again, so everyone else can see that it is unmatched.”

The corners of Lizzie’s mouth quirked up as her smile, that had been sad before, widened. Her eyes were sparkling again as her fighting spirit was returning to her. “Thank you, Captain, I’ll do everything I can not to let you down. There’s still a lot on my mind, but you’re right; on the pitch, nothing matters but the game and we’ll show Gryffindor how it's played.”

Orion was glad to see a bit of the Lizzie he knew shining through again. “Exactly,” he grinned as his lips curved into a lopsided smile. “Go now, find your focus and clean your slate; because it is only with an unburdened mind that we can win.”

[cno-inbminor]

adsentio - the masque

a/n: it’s royalty!au once again! i would recommend reading adsentio AND bonus letters for the full context. thank you to those who were waiting patiently! did i rewatch ‘ever after: a cinderella story’ for inspiration? of course. 

genre: royalty!au ft. fem!reader, angst, fluff; warnings: terribly written sword fight, somewhat unedited.

summary: You’re starting to wonder if an impostor wrote those letters instead of Prince Akaashi, but the show must go on. 

wc: ~7.4k

royalty!au: adsentio (pt. 1) | bonus letters (pt 1.5) | the masque (pt. 2)

“Are you sure everything is packed?”

“Yes, mother,” you reply, voice laced with exasperation.

“Is your dress for the ceremony there as well? We absolutely cannot leave without that gown!”

“Yes, mother, it’s in there,” you reassure, pointing to a trunk that’s already in the carriage. An audible sigh of relief leaves your mother’s lips. Even though your mother’s fretting was starting to grate at your last nerves, you still felt the excitement of going back to the Fukurodani Kingdom.

After all, Prince Akaashi is waiting for you.

Akaashi’s Christmas gift had come a month and a half before the holiday it was intended for. Soon after, the two of you agreed to refrain from sending any letters during the months of frost, wanting to lessen the burden on the delivery man. He needed to be home with his family when possible, and the journey could be treacherous during those times. As warmer weather rolled around in mid-March, his familiar face had arrived at your castle steps with a small bundle of letters tied with parcel string. They were all addressed to you in a handwriting that you had grown extremely fond of.

If it were up to you, you would be adorned in your most comfortable riding attire and charge full speed ahead. You would probably be able to cut the journey time by about a third, and though it wasn’t much, it would still mean that you would see Akaashi sooner. With how forward he was in his letters, you could only bubble with enthusiasm at how different this summer could be.

Nevertheless, time passes as it does, and you’re once again at the entrance of Fukurodani’s castle. As always, the king and queen stand side by side at the bottom of the steps, the prince standing politely by them. It seems that Prince Akaashi has only grown more handsome since last summer. If you had to guess, he would be more than a full head taller than you. Besides height, Akaashi’s face seems to have lost any remaining baby fat, leaving nothing but a pointed chin and a sharp jawline. Whether or not it be a result of your newfound attraction towards him, there’s no room to deny just how handsome he truly is, bordering on ethereal beauty.

His piercing blue orbs seem to sparkle in delight when you step out of the carriage. In fact, he’s quick to take place of their usual footman and hold out a hand for you to grasp, securely ensuring that you don’t lose your step. Your grip is tight, and you can only hope that he sees the joy reflected in your own eyes. With intention and purpose, he presses his lips to the back of your hand, needing no reminder from his mother this time, and never removes his gaze from yours. Your breath seems to have escaped your lungs, even more so when he straightens and takes one daring step closer to you. Both of your parents must be brimming with satisfaction at this interaction, but all of it is ignored and disregarded. Akaashi still keeps your hand in his as he slightly leans down to whisper in your ear.

“You look beautiful as always, Princess (y/n).”

Your title had always moderately annoyed you over the last 18 years, but you decide then and there that there would be no complaint if he addressed you as so for the rest of eternity. Furthermore, if it weren’t for your dignity and pride, you would kiss him right now in front of everyone. As he pulls away, you do your best to compose yourself. After all, two can play this game.

“Thank you, Your Highness. You’ve grown more handsome since I last saw you.”

“Have we returned to formalities again?”

“Please forgive my old habits, Prince Akaashi.”

“(Y/n),” he murmurs darkly, metallic blue eyes full of warning and mischief. “Need I remind you of my given name?”

You register the tightening of his grip. Don’t even dare, his eyes seem to caution, not when so much progress was made through paper and ink. But you know he will rise to a challenge for his desires when he sees one – it’s only in his nature.

“Perhaps I need a reason to address you as such,” you quip, watching his eyes flash with an emotion you are unable to pinpoint. Nevertheless, you remove your hand from his, ignoring the yearning for the warmth that he had provided. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must greet the king and queen or they’ll have my head.”

Akaashi only watches with longing as you trek away to curtsy before his parents. Could your birthday celebration come any sooner?

-

You’re beginning to think that someone other than Prince Akaashi wrote those letters to you, that someone else had just forged his handwriting to a tee and perfectly replicated his writing style. Since the little interaction between you two on the day of your arrival, Akaashi was acting as if this were any other summer. Very little was said to or done with you – even last summer, the two of you had often strolled through the gardens while discussing various topics. Yet now, it was five summers ago all over again: the two of you at opposite ends of the castle reading your desired books.

You only ever saw him during mealtimes or in passing – even then, he would simply nod in your direction or only speak to you when he had to. Your efforts to narrow the gap diminished significantly by the third day, and by the end of the first week, you decided to completely give up. The prince has constructed a wall between you two and you possessed no ability to strike it down.

On days you weren’t reading, out of boredom and the need to fill your mind with thoughts of anything other than Akaashi, you would help prepare for the ball and your coming-of-age celebration. A private, proper ceremony would be done in your own kingdom once you returned, but it had long been determined that the festivities would be held here. Invitations and RSVP’s had steadily increased over the months, indicating that this would be a grand occasion. All the lessons on design and party-arrangement were finally paying off in its fullest, but your mother could not ignore the lack of life in your eyes.

It’s two weeks before the ball – you’re currently sitting in your chambers, lounging in a chair on your balcony with a book in your lap. You’ve recently taken an interest in philosophy, first starting with the works of Aristotle and Plato. A faint rap of knuckles on your door breaks your focus. “Come in,” you call out loud enough for your visitor to hear. The door clicks open and shut, and you’re mildly surprised to see your mother turning the corner to search for you.

“Mother, what a surprise,” you express while standing. She pulls you in for a hug without a word, only confusing you in the process as you return the embrace. After removing herself, she guides you back inside until the two of you are sitting on the edge of your bed, still holding your hands.

“Something has been bothering you, my child. Is there something you wish to tell me?” Your mother doesn’t want to push – she knows of the letters, your developed affection for Akaashi, and the lack of interaction between the two of you this summer. It’s hard to miss the lack of your figure by his side when he’s wondering around the castle, the ever pensive, calculating look on his face never fading. It’s hard to miss the way you often pick at your food, even going as far to request smaller portions for all your meals.

But it’s even harder to ignore the worried look in the prince’s eyes that’s cast your way when you excuse yourself after every meal, leaving earlier than everyone else.

You can only sigh before your teeth begin to gently gnaw on your bottom lip. “Mother, how angry would you be if this engagement doesn’t proceed as you’ve planned?”

“To be quite honest,” she begins as a small smile forms on her face. “I wouldn’t be angry at all. Not if the cost of it was your happiness.”

“But what about the merger?”

“With all these years between our kingdoms, engagement or not, a merger of sorts would only be inevitable. We only hoped that naturally, you and the prince would be drawn towards each other. But to force the two of you together would be unfair – your father and mine, as well as his parents, main concern is the happiness of our children.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Of course,” your mother emphasizes, a hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. “In fact, if you would like…

“We don’t have to come here next summer.”

Your eyes widen. Your mother was giving you a choice in this?

“Are you...sure?”

“I’m absolutely positive, (y/n). I will not force you and neither will your father, especially if forcing you would only make your pain greater.”

“Very well then, mother. We shall see.”

“Keep your chin up, my dear. We must keep you in your best shape for the ball, and…” she pauses, her smile turning somewhat mischievous. “Perhaps remind the prince that he should be properly courting you by now.”

“Mother!”

-

“Is it proper for a princess to be sparring?”

“Bokuto, you’ve known me for so many years, yet you still ask me this question every time. Do you really think my father would allow me to marry without knowing how to defend myself?”  

“I can’t really say, Princess. At least, not without possibly offending the king.”

Every summer, you make it tradition to leave time for sparring. When you turned fourteen, many of the younger guards in training had been terrified of practicing with you, fearing that they’d be punished for engaging in behavior that could possibly harm the princess. But after much coaxing and convincing (as well as written promise from King Akaashi), they finally felt comfortable in sparring with you. Back at home, you had a few designated training partners from the royal guard, but it would do no good if you didn’t keep up with your skills.

You’ve won your fair share, as well as lost a few handfuls. But you were never a sore loser and only thanked your partner for their time, even asking for pointers. On a few occasions, you would duel with Akaashi, though for times when you were at an advantage, you would purposely lose. The prince needed faith and trust from his men, and many would be dimwitted enough to let a few losses to a woman diminish their view of him. Akaashi was very well aware of your generosity, as well as Bokuto, which only caused him to tease the prince relentlessly in private.

For the sixth time this summer, just one week before the masque, you had pleaded with Bokuto for his time. At this point, you prefer to not ask for anything from Akaashi, especially when you’re so obviously kept at arm’s length. Bokuto is much more agreeable and doesn’t treat you like a glass figurine, thanks to the many years of roughhousing during your childhoods. He isn’t afraid to use his full force behind the strikes of his sword and you could always guarantee a few good rounds from him. Additionally, he always offers a lot of good advice after each duel. When you incorporate his teachings into your skill set, he recognizes it immediately and howls with pride, praising himself for being such a wonderful instructor.

“Why haven’t you asked Akaashi to spar with you yet?” Bokuto asks while tightening his gloves. The training grounds are empty at this time, though to be fair, it’s still quite early in the morning. You wanted to spar comfortably without the overbearing heat of the summer afternoon sun. A sigh leaves your lips – it’s not as if he doesn’t know already.

“I believe you’re well aware of why I haven’t, Bokuto. He’s barely spoken to me in these weeks. In fact, I’m sure he has better things to do than to indulge me.”

“He still cares for you.”

“Well, he has a funny way of showing it,” you reply bitterly and draw out your sword. “Come on, no time to dawdle.”

Disobeying your words, Bokuto bides his time with some extra stretching. “I’m his closest friend, I would know.”

“Then he can tell me himself. Can we please start?”

“Very well then.”

His words have riled you up significantly, Bokuto notices. Your attacks are relentless and your senses seem sharper than ever, easily dodging and parrying with the footwork of an experienced soldier. In fact, your movement is breathtakingly graceful, almost as if you were dancing. The duel goes on for minutes until Bokuto accidentally hesitates and can only surrender when the tip of your sword is millimeters from his neck. He drops his sword and a big grin forms on his face.

You lower your weapon and step back as the both of you catch your breath. Behind you, Bokuto spots a familiar figure leaning over the edge of their balcony. They’re too far away to hear what you’re saying or what expressions you’re wearing, but that doesn’t stop Bokuto from coming up with a devious plan.

“(Y/n), don’t look behind you, but he’s watching.”

You freeze – you completely forgot that Akaashi’s room faces the direction of the training grounds. Naturally, he has his own balcony, but you didn’t think he’d be watching. Had he been observing all your other sparring rounds? And how was he awake now? He’s usually never up this early.

“I have an idea,” Bokuto continues. “But you have to play along, all right?”

“I’m not liking the sound of this…”

“You just need to follow my lead. Now, pretend you’re about to start another duel.”

With all the confusion displayed on your face, you warily adjust yourself into your preparatory stance. Bokuto steps closer to you while sheathing his sword, eyeing your position with his hands behind his back. He quickly checks to see if Akaashi is still paying attention, and after confirming so, he enters your bubble of personal space.

“If you begin to feel uncomfortable, tell me. If I’m right, it’ll only take a few minutes before he’s down here.”

“But I don’t want—”

“Shh,” Bokuto interrupts with a gloved finger on your lips. He smirks when he spots Akaashi suddenly straightening himself, his posture turning stiff and guarded. You watch as he reaches for the hand holding your sword, wrapping his own around your grip.

“What are you doing?” You hiss at him.

“Wait a few seconds…okay,” Bokuto removes himself from your personal space. You relax and put down your guard, resisting the urge to punch him in the arm.

“What ever was all that for?!”

“Look,” he replies, pointing in the direction of Akaashi’s balcony. “He’s gone. I guarantee he’ll be here in the next five minutes.”

“Bokuto—”

“Now, now, let’s have another round to pass the time.”

“But—”

You’re interrupted when Bokuto swings his sword towards you, your own blocking his instinctively. You could try to protest all you want, but he wasn’t going to let you have it. You would make sure that he regrets it. Much like the first round, you put your all into the sparring session, fury growing as Bokuto’s grin widens over time. He’s taunting you over and over, leaving you so focused that you’re completely oblivious to the third figure currently making their way towards the two of you. Once within earshot, Akaashi clears his throat and you whip towards him with horror in your eyes.

“Ah, Akaashi, excellent! So glad you could join us!” Bokuto yells, walking away from you to clap him on the shoulder. “In fact, would you mind taking over from here? I just remembered I needed to attend to something back inside the castle. Thank you, Akaashi!” And then Bokuto just…leaves.

A shroud of silence covers the two of you – your attention is directed at anything but the object of your affections, choosing to focus on the dew of the grass, the glint of the light on your sword, the light morning breeze blowing past your stray hairs, the loose threads at the waist of your pants—

“Shall we begin?” He asks, breaking the tranquility.

Akaashi is infuriating; infuriatingly handsome, infuriatingly good at stripping down your defenses, infuriatingly adept at raising your heartbeat to an alarming rate. It’s simply unfair, and it angers you.

You say nothing while taking a few steps backward, your feet adjusting yourself in the same position that Bokuto had you stand in just mere minutes ago. Akaashi observes and also readies himself, his stance very similar to yours. Only seconds pass before he’s charging towards you, and the fight begins.

The first round falls in his favor, his face showing little reaction throughout the whole clash. You demand another round, barely giving time for a break because you’re brimming with the need to have some semblance of a victory. Weeks of pent up furious confusion make themselves known in the way you fight – you no longer move with the grace seen earlier with Bokuto. Instead, traces of sloppiness are there in your footwork and Akaashi takes advantage of this, though he begins to worry. If this were a real duel, you would’ve long fallen victim to his sword.

The second round lasts much longer than the first due to your obstinate refusal to back down and give up. Your braid had long come undone and Akaashi can’t help but think about how beautiful you look, even with your hair seemingly flying wildly every time you spin to try to catch him off guard. His split focus costs him when your weapons meet in the middle, allowing you to push and twist his hand around to force him to lose his grip. The metal is flung towards the side and he’s met with the shimmer of your sword that’s dangerously close to his jugular vein. He slowly brings his hands up in surrender and you falter.

Both of your chests rapidly rise and fall, lungs desperate for oxygen. Akaashi struggles to remember the last time you had put so much effort into a duel, your desperation to win screaming itself into the air. He notices how much thinner your face has gotten, how your arm slightly trembles with exhaustion. You need to rest and eat more, Akaashi concludes with furrowed eyebrows. Your well-being is of utmost importance to him.

You feel yourself begin to quiver under Akaashi’s stare, yet long to know what could be going through his mind. Even though you’ve won this round, Akaashi still has your heart and the thought somewhat embarrasses you. You’ve always prided yourself in being level-headed, yet you just spent the last thirty to forty-five minutes taking out all your frustrations on him.

“Have you been getting enough sleep, (y/n)?”

Don’t say my name like that.

“I don’t see why it matters,” you sigh, moving away to pick up his fallen sword.

“You need to look after yourself,” Akaashi replies, following after her with a slight sense of urgency. You whip around too fast for him to react, only groaning from the impact when you practically shove his weapon to his chest. Nothing prepared you for this conversation – you aren’t ready to have it, and you’d rather not have it with swords nearby.

“I am looking after myself, your highness,” you bite through gritted teeth. Your feet carry you as fast as possible towards the entrance back into the castle, but a hand latches onto your wrist and demands your attention. You have no choice but to turn your body towards him, denying that his eyes are flashing nothing but concern and frustration.

“You’re eating less. You’re always awake at odd hours. Your corsets are too tight – they look as if they’ll squeeze the life out of you. You keep pushing yourself too hard during sparring sessions. It takes you longer than usual to finish books. You’re under the sun too much—”

“You have no right!” you accuse, attempting to wriggle your wrist from his grip. Why does he speak as if he’s been keeping a watchful eye on you when he can barely meet your own over the dinner table?

Akaashi refuses to relent, even pulling you closer to him under the shadows of the doorway. “Please (y/n), you must know how much I worry—”

“Then pray tell, why have you ignored me since I stepped foot into your castle?!” You cry out, tears of vexation beginning to form. “Why have you ignored my very existence, as if we are twelve again and trying to escape something seemingly inevitable?! How could—how could you build me up for months and months, only to tear me down without a second thought?”

Akaashi knows his reasoning is botched and full of fallacies – he’s beginning to understand the extent of how much his actions have affected you, but he can’t help but try to save some face. His cool, collected façade and wisdom had long taken a backseat towards matters concerning you, and he feels like a fool. A big, bumbling, inexplicably irrational fool in love.  

“Princess—”

“I would have no qualms if you had just outright told me that you didn’t care for me,” you interrupt once more, though in a calmer tone. Your body is still shaking from the emotional downpour, tears streaking down your cheeks unattractively. You wish you could just take a horse from the stables and ride home, away from all this nonsense. “But you can’t write me those letters, the very ones that I’ve so deeply cherished this passing year, and treat me as if it were all some dream that my brain so desperately sprung together.”

“I have my deepest regrets – I’m so sorry, it’s just…with the way we greeted each other on the first day, I somehow convinced myself that you didn’t mean what you wrote—”

“Keiji,” you interrupt softly. How he wishes you were saying his name in a different context, in a tone that was full of love than disappointment. How he wishes there were no salty tears tracking down your cheeks. “You have known me for almost thirteen years. Thirteen long, playful, revealing years. Nothing ever escapes you, and you said so yourself; we are old friends. Therefore,” you pause, gulping.

“Shouldn’t you know that I would never pen those words to just anyone?”

And you disappear into the castle.

Akaashi feels that there’s nothing more appropriate than beating his head into the wall, cursing himself for being so stupid.

What have I done?

-

“I must say, in the most appropriate sense, you are truly, royally fucked.”

“I know, Bokuto. I know.”      

-

Akaashi tries to make up for his mistakes in his classic fashion: silently, with small thoughtful gifts.

He has resumed leaving flowers from the garden in your chambers again: some days, you return to a peony. Other days, you return to the addition a single rose in the ardent shade of passionate love. They accumulate on your dresser, your room becoming filled with the floral scents. The lingering fragrance haunts your dreams, filled with flashes of childhood memories and anticipated encounters at the masque. You often wake up feeling as if there’s a lead weight on your chest, and even though you physically slept for eight hours, the fatigue in your eyes vehemently argue otherwise.

Akaashi becomes insistent on escorting you everywhere, always offering his arm for you to take. At first, you’re hesitant, but just a day later, it becomes second nature. Akaashi joins you again when reading – if he can, he’ll take a seat next to you. If not, he’ll be sure to be across from you, though he’s not reading most of these times. He often carries a journal with him, assistants always prepared to provide him with a writing utensil and ink, and scribbles away. Akaashi has never held back his admiration for the world’s literature, and four days before your birthday, you pause in your reading to feed the curiosity.

“What are you scribbling in there, if I may ask?”

“A…personal work of sorts.”

“Your Highness, an author? I must say, it suits you. Is it a work of fiction?”

“Not this time,” he says with the ghost of a demure, secretive smile on his face. “You could consider it a memoir.”  

“If you say so.”

-

It had been decided some time ago that the ball would be held the night before your birthday, rather than the day of. These events were known to last well into the night, so at midnight, they would make an announcement in your honor and present you before everyone invited. With these change in plans, your original deadline for Akaashi to find you had to be moved ahead, and he was less than pleased to hear this the day before the ball, even though it was anticipated.

“Fifteen minutes is precious time, Princess,” Akaashi expresses with displeasure. “Could you permit me at least five ‘til midnight?”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, milord. I must have enough time to prepare myself.”

“Have I only been upgraded to being called ‘milord’?”

“How is it that your title irks you so?”

“Only when it’s coming from you, Princess. And I must say, you’re one to speak – don’t think I’m unaware of how much you greatly dislike it when you’re addressed as such. You’ve never bothered to correct me though. Why is that?”

“Perhaps…” you say, giving him a side glance full of mirth. “Perhaps you’re just an exception.”

Akaashi’s eyes widen a bit before crinkling with delight. You never cease to amaze him, reminding him at the most unexpected times that you are also invested in this growing relationship with him. He quickly looks around him before gently dragging you to the nearest empty bedroom, hoping that even though the walls have ears, they don’t have the eyes to witness this. Once the door is quietly shut behind him, Akaashi begins to take slow steps in your direction, towering over you and crowding you until your heels hit the wall. You struggle to maintain eye contact as well as keeping your breathing under control. Akaashi continues to pin you down with his piercing gaze, gradually bending down until he’s at eye level with you. Thoughts run amok in your brain as his face nears yours. Is he going to—

Your internal process ceases when he tenderly places a kiss at the corner of your lips, then moving until his breath is right by your ear. The sensation triggers a shiver down your spine, causing him to chuckle.

“To give you an idea of what I’d like my reward to be when I catch you tomorrow night, Princess,” he murmurs before moving away.

You’re blushing furiously no matter how much you fight it, barely registering when he lifts both of your hands to place a similarly gentle kiss on your touching knuckles. Part of you wants to protest when he steps towards the door and cracks it open, peeking out to see if anyone is lingering in the corridors. Akaashi keeps a hold on one of your hands, quickly leading you out and folding it into the crook of his other elbow. He fixes his gaze in front of him to bring on an air of normalcy, as if he didn’t just sneak you into a spare bedroom to do something that many would somewhat frown upon. Akaashi had yet to ask to formally court you, but he has full intentions to change that tomorrow night.

“Perhaps you’ll give me an insight on what you’ll be wearing tomorrow night?” He inquires cheekily and you send him your dirtiest glare.

“Only in your dreams, milord. Did you not read the part about making this harder on you so I could have some fun?”

“Wouldn’t it be better to have fun with each other?”

“Do you mean to tempt me?” You tease, chuckling into the back of your free hand.

“There was no guarantee that you’d refuse – am I not allowed to grasp onto any remaining hope?”

“Whatever satisfies you, milord.”

“Then let me find you tomorrow night. I don’t believe I’ll stand for any of the other suitors attempting to whisk you away with baseless words and ill intentions.”

“What would you know of their intentions?” You ask curiously, looking up towards him. His eyes darken and harden with an emotion you’re not familiar with. It’s one that is never directed towards you, almost dangerous in a way.

“More than you should know, Princess,” he replies gravely.

Before you realize it, you’re sitting in front of your vanity, sitting as prettily and patiently as you can while your handmaiden, Yachi, does her best work on your hair. You observe your current features – a faint blush had been dusted on your cheeks and a deep rouge painted on your lips. Your mask would be similar to many those of the other attendees, one more thing to pull in your favor in this game of cat and mouse.

Your heart begins to beat faster as the seconds tick by – there’s no doubt that Akaashi is already by his parents’ side, carrying a princely aura and politely greeting all the guests. The ball began at 9PM and it was already thirty minutes after. You can hear the faint sounds of the musicians playing up a lively theme, imagining that the festivities will be in full swing soon. Soon, your handmaiden is patting you on the shoulder, notifying you that she was done. In the mirror, you turn your head left and right and nod appreciatively, thanking her for her hard work. Your fingers shakily pick up your mask and Yachi ties it securely behind your head and underneath your hair.

“Do you think he’ll recognize me?” You ask nervously, fiddling your fingers in your lap. Yachi knew almost everything about the ordeal and had even come up with some good ideas to make things harder on the prince.

“If he keeps in mind that you’ll be the most beautiful maiden at the ball, then I’m sure he will,” Yachi giggles, tucking in some stray hairs.

“You’re not here to lie to me,” you whine, pouting slightly. “In all seriousness…”

“I have no doubt, milady,” Yachi says, her eyes and tone softening. “If His Highness likes you as much as he says he does, then he will certainly find you.”

You let out a deep breath before standing from your chair, the nerves beginning to course through your system. In the reflection, you gaze upon the line of flower-filled vases on your dresser, their presence somehow bringing you some serenity. Yachi is right -- with how much he boasted in letters about studying every memory he has of you, there should be a reasonable level of certainty that he would catch you by your deadline.

But now was the time to be festive. After all, the guests were here in your honor (and to have a joyous time) and you’d be rude to not partake in the activities. Some of the maids are bustling around, ensuring that drinks and food are readily available, never running low. The sound of your heels clicking along the granite echoes against the walls, yet your heartbeat seems louder and louder as you near the ballroom. The castle beholds two specific large ballrooms with double doors towards the courtyard, allowing the cool summer air in. You take a quick detour and choose to enter the ballroom from the outside, much less likely to arouse suspicion.

At least everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, you think to yourself with a smile. It’s easy to spot Bokuto in the crowd with that hair of his, just as you predicted. The band just finishes a song when you sneak in, yet starts up a familiar tune not long after. The piece calls for a large group to dance together, and wanting to join in, you make your way to the center. Luckily, one more female was needed and you are welcomed, as well as gently shoved to a tall man who seemed to be lacking a partner. It’s not hard to guess who it is, however. Even with a mask, you could recognize that crooked grin from anywhere.

As per tradition, he bows to you and you curtsy, then routinely placing your hand in his. He draws you close to him by the waist, but his grip is light and barely holds any weight on your back. Taking a quick once-over at the group, he addresses you.

“Should I be counting my lucky stars to be dancing with the princess in honor?” He teases just loud enough for you to hear. 

“I would advise against it, Prince Kuroo.”

A quiet laugh leaves his chest as he gives you a spin, flawlessly bring you back to him. “You can trust me, Princess. Bokuto has already informed me of the game in place, though I suppose it was more of a warning more than anything.”

“Oh, how so?”

“If I didn’t want to face the wrath of your dear prince, I should refrain from attempting to convince you that a merger between our kingdoms would be more ideal.”

“I must say, I’m a little surprised that Bokuto isn’t trying to stir up trouble.”

“I would advise against speaking too soon – he’s already on his third glass of mead.”

“Good gods,” you mutter in disbelief. Kuroo shakes with laughter.

“For my amusement, I’d like to see Akaashi be a clumsy fool in love. You have my word that I’ll keep this interaction secret for now,” he promises, rushing his words a little bit. Soon, the two of you will need to break apart and switch partners.

“But don’t forget to have a little fun. Happy birthday, Princess,” Kuroo says sincerely in your ear, sneaking in a quick kiss to the back of your hand before letting you go. You fall into the hands of another male, one you don’t recognize, and fall into silent routine until the dance is over. When the band comes to a stop, everybody bows to each other with a wide smile on their faces and cheeks tinted red from happiness. Momentarily, you had forgotten about your nerves and Akaashi, but now that there was nothing else to focus on, the shivers of being chased creep along your body.

In one sense, it’s almost thrilling. The thought has you questioning your own sanity, but perhaps it’s only because Akaashi is the one searching for you, finding the right time to pounce. As a result, you never stay in one place for too long, mingling into other crowds and making small talk. Very few have noticed who you were, and even Bokuto replaces his antics for a wink when he passes by you, knowing his usual behavior would give it all away.

The clock strikes eleven, each toll causing your heart to skip a beat. You grant yourself one more glance towards Akaashi.

Earlier during the dance, you had spotted him in the far corner of the ballroom staring in another direction. Now when you have the time to watch and appreciate, you can’t help but marvel at how beautiful this man is. Time boded well on him, his features and height resembling a strong, trustworthy young prince. He had the intellect and perceptive level worthy of being king, and even the atmosphere around him agreed. His head was fit to hold a crown, and any woman would fall at his feet in seconds. Tonight, he is donned in the kingdom’s colors, his own attire a regal show of ivory, ebony, and gold. The design is not overly ornate or flamboyant, yet regal enough to instantaneously remind others exactly who he is. Each hue makes him shine like a beacon of light in darkness.

Needing some fresh air, you slip out towards the courtyard and quietly make your way to the garden entrance. A couple of guards are standing watch but let you in once you untie the mask from your face. Your feet pad down a familiar path towards the rows of peonies and you’re thankful for the uninhibited rays of the full moon tonight. They’re cast in a soft glow of white and blue – you can’t help but tenderly touch petals of one half-open.

“I had an inkling that you would come here.”

The familiar tenor startles you out of your wits, your hand flying back up to your chest as you turn towards the perpetrator for your premature heart attack. None other than Prince Akaashi stands before you with his hands behind his back and a twinkle in his eyes. Then, the weight is lifted off your chest.

He had found you.

Once you catch your breath, you can only let out a suppressed laugh. There was nowhere to hide, not when your mask is grasped between the fingers of your other hand. He hadn’t even bothered to wear one, though you’ll scold him later for not participating in the festivities.

“I suppose you followed me here?”

“You could say that,” Akaashi replies with a smile, moving closer to stand right in front of you.

“It did take you over an hour and a half though.”

“(Y/n).”

“…yes, milord?”

“I noticed you the second you stepped into the ballroom.”

The statement baffles you and freezes you to the core. You find yourself unable to do anything when Akaashi grasps both of your hands in his, bringing them to his lips much like he did yesterday.

“Then why did you not come to me then?” You question after finding your voice again. Akaashi says nothing at first, only rearranging your limbs to a familiar posture for a waltz. He begins to step and lead, your own feet naturally following him as if you’ve been practicing this for a long time together. His silence makes you grow more unsure of all this.

“I wanted to observe, reconfirm my suspicions that I was already fully convinced on. In addition, I wanted you to enjoy yourself. You and our mothers have spent so many months preparing this – it’s only right that you enjoy the fruits of your labor.”

“Then you saw me dance?”

“Yes, and you were the best of them all,” he instantly compliments, always honest and straightforward to the point, sending blood to your cheeks.

“Thank you, milord,” you reply sheepishly.

“You’re welcome, Princess. Though I must say,” Akaashi’s tone turns dangerous, leaning over to whisper in your ear. He notices how your hands tighten their grips on his, perhaps trying to ground yourself. “Why did Prince Kuroo of Nekoma speak to you like this, so intimately? I thought, perhaps, this would also be left as a privilege solely for me?”

“He was doing just as you had warned before,” you chuckle, silently apologizing for pulling the wool over Kuroo’s eyes. Judging by the sharp inhale, Akaashi was less than pleased at what you were insinuating. “He may or may not have been attempting to persuade me into forming a more personal alliance with his kingdom.”

“Was he now…” Akaashi murmurs. In an effort to contain the green jealousy rising within him (and gain a little leverage), his hands slowly release yours to gently grasp your waist. For a moment, he wishes they were holding you this way in a different situation, but that doesn’t stop him from daringly ghosting his lips over the column of your neck, his breath sending goosebumps along your skin. You keep as still as possible, completely unsure of what to do. But if there’s one thing that is certain, it’s that no man could ever have an effect on you like Akaashi does.

“I have known you since you were young,” he proceeds. “And though we didn’t want anything to do with each other, we eventually grew accustomed to each other. Before I even realized it, I was watching your every move, listening to every word you said. Even when we were twelve, I found myself wanting to be near you. I wanted you to take notice of me just as I did you. When we were fifteen and you sat against me by the fireplace…there was the most wonderful sense of belonging, as if you were supposed to be right there by my side.”

Your heart might fail you at this point, aching for the man who was now lifting his head away to face you. The back of one hand lifts to caress your cheek, and your eyes catch the ardent passion in his, even in the moonlight.

“I penned those words to you with every intention of properly courting you. I wished for you to understand the lengths I would go to ensure your happiness. It was never about this merger between our kingdoms and hasn’t been for a long time. I only want you to know that should you allow me to, it would be my honor to court you and perhaps…be your husband.”

Unshed tears of joy are brimming in your eyes. Akaashi has suffered enough, you believe. A tear must have escaped because he catches it with his thumb, softly wiping it away. You can’t help but let out a breathless laugh, and Akaashi knows it’s a good sign. The smile on his face grows wider as you collect yourself to give your response.

“You do, after all, deserve a reward for finding me.”

Akaashi smirks and tilts his head forward, his lips millimeters away from yours.

“And what would that be, Princess?” He purrs.

Your heart takes a leap and you press your lips to his. Instantly, Akaashi cradles your face, refusing to separate from you. The first kiss is innocent and unmoving, allowing the both of you to revel in the sensation. A thrilling streak of adrenaline courses through your veins and sets your soul on fire as he puts more force, conveying to you his neediness and years of pent-up desire. You return it ounce for ounce until you can’t breathe anymore, pulling back to breathe in some much-needed oxygen. Akaashi doesn’t stop, sensuously kissing every available surface of your cheeks until he’s tired of waiting to kiss your lips once more. You give in and let yourself fall until the point of no return – even if Akaashi was the devil incarnate, you would gladly hand over your soul for an eternity of his love.

“As much as I want to continue this,” he states over bated breath. “We have a ball to return to.”

You sigh and nod, brushing your nose against his before allowing some distance between the two of you. Akaashi offers to tie the mask before taking hold of your hand, folding it into the crook of his elbow as he has done many times before. The two of you bide your time as much as possible, giving each other knowing glances when the courtyard is within your view again. Some of the ladies (and men) throw you nasty looks for having had private time with the prince, but none of it matters as Akaashi asks for a dance, spending the rest of the minutes until midnight with you in his arms.

After midnight strikes and being presented to the crowd, Akaashi keeps a hold on you again, ignoring the jeering and teasing gestures from Bokuto and Prince Kuroo. Kuroo, the ever honest yet playful man he is, sends you a wink behind Akaashi’s back and you bury your face into his chest. Whatever the cause may be, Akaashi continues to envelop you in his arms with a light and comfortable conversation taking place. As a natural silence passes over, he whispers into your ear, “Happy birthday, Princess.”

“Thank you, Keiji.”

Ecstasy fills his soul -- there hasn’t been anything more gratifying or more satisfying than hearing his name from your lips again. Finally, from now until death...he feels absolutely complete.

[skyeofloxlay]

Personality / Brief history / important things about MC / Reader for my fanfics or when I make requests.

Okay, I decided to do this more for myself when I make a request to someone, but this is also useful to let you know a little more about the MC / "reader" of my fanfics.

The MC is a cis-woman of almost 1.60cm in height, (age may vary) but generally the age will be between 20 and 23. She is heterosexual/straight (I don't know if there is a difference between the two things, but I don't understand why I would have two words for the same thing) and usually in fanfics she has never had a boyfriend before the character she will be together with (be it Jake (Duskwood), Jason (Todd), Spencer (Reid) or any other character). 

She was born in Brazil and lived a large part of her life there, and depending on what story she is in, she makes an interchange trip abroad because of college, and because of that she lives far from her family and lives alone, but she has her faithful companion, a male Schnauzer dog (his name in fanfics is undetermined.)

MC has always been a lonely person, because after several events in the past she does not trust people easily, and the only people she does trust are her family, but she still has trouble talking about her problems to them.

Furthermore, MC is a very shy, introverted, anti-social person and suffers from social phobia, which of course, is a perfect combo to be an alien in society and not be able to make friends, even if she wants to.

MC also doesn't know where it all started from, but she does know that she has probably suffered from anxiety for many, many years, even though she only discovered it a short time ago, and went to get help even less time ago.

Because of anxiety, she ends up being stuck in her own world, or I should call it, hell itself. Her mind is a mess, bad, unreal and meaningless thoughts invade her mind all the time, and because she has been this way for so long without help and not knowing what to do, her situation has worsened to the point where her anxiety starts to change into a depressive anxiety.

However, as much as she has been suffering with her own mind for years, she can always count on her family whenever she needs them, even if they are distant from each other, they are inseparable. 

Her father, as much as he doesn't understand most of the things she goes through, supports her and wants the best for MC, and so he does what he can to help MC pay for psychological treatment, and even though he doesn't understand, he always makes her smile and laugh, even when the situations are bad, even though he was always busy because of work, he always did what he could to be together, even in the simplest things, like family lunch, playing video games, watching movies, shopping together.

Her mother, on the other hand, has been through similar things like MC, and always try to help her the way she can, always speaking encouraging words, helping MC to do her things when she couldn't, sleeping next to the MC when she couldn't sleep because of anxiety, always being by her side, always supporting any decision, no matter the situation, MC's mom will always be there to hear her, either to hear about something that MC wants to do a lot or when she has some fear. 

And there is also her younger brother (3 years younger), as much as they ended up arguing for silly things, he is her best friend, maybe her only true friend, always having fun together doing what they like, protecting each other, always being one for another, even when it was not known which words were right to say.

MC is blessed to have such an amazing family, and as much as she couldn't say "I love you, you are everything to me" to them, she loved them with all her heart and soul, and she couldn't say what would happen to her if she lost them, but probably something really bad would happen.

As much as it seemed that MC doesn't care about other people, maybe looking selfish and boring to others, she cares a lot about others, but she knows that this is also one of the big reasons why she suffers from anxiety, caring for others more than for herself, and for her own mental health, she had to try not to think so much about the problems of the world that she cannot solve. 

Some people may think that she was wrong in doing this, but she wanted to have some sanity, even if little and trying to recover, than to go crazy with things that are impossible to fix, at least impossible for her to fix.

(Some other things about MC, but now simpler, because I'm out of time and too lazy, help me)

- Very distracted

- Very clumsy

- Nerd

- Dreamer / lost in her own world

- Impulsive

- Impatient

- Think too much about everything

- Studious

- Lonely

- Forgotten

- Problems with deadlines, do everything at the last minute.

- Avoid fights / arguments with people she doesn't know, but if it's someone close and it's a silly fight, she'll defend that she's right until the end, if she's wrong in the fight, she'll just be quiet for a while. If it is a serious fight, she will argue for some time until the tears stop her from continuing, and then she will be silent for a long time.

- Too stubborn

- Sarcastic with the closest people

- Always try to look for the good in people, but it is impossible for her to achieve kindness in certain people.

- Pessimistic

- Very sensitive / hurts / cries easily

- Perfectionist

- Very insecure

- She cannot express in words what she feels for other people

Likes:

Chocolate

Coffee

Rainy days

Winter

Music (Mainly, pop and  rock)

To drive

Flowers

Taking pictures (mainly of landscapes)

Animals

Old things, like things related to the 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s, or things from centuries ago

History

Books

Learn things

Horror stuff (games, books, movies)

Mystery

Horseback riding

Nature

Farms

See the city lights at night

Night

Games (both video games and board / cards)

Comics, Movies, Series etc about Superheroes

Mexican food

Travel

Psychology / Understanding the human mind

Buy drawing materials and books (even though she will never use / read them)

Big clothes

Wind

Ride a bike

Explore Abandoned Places

Dislikes:

Summer

Hot days

Insects

Spiders

Her mind

Who annoy her

People fighting

See things or people comment on things related to death or illness

Having to be patient

Who speak ill of her family

Working in a group

That people belittle her feelings

Parties

People

Delays

Alcoholic beverages

Buy clothes

Make up

High heels

Short dresses

Physics

Fears / Phobias / Things that bother her:

Spiders

Falling / High height

To drown

Die

Getting seriously ill

Dark / Night

To sleep

People

Speak in public

Losing her family

Stay alone

Crowds

Closed places

Tight clothes (Because she feels they are suffocating her)

Arrive late

Forget things

Having a car accident

Never be loved / Stop being loved

Future

May her fears come true

Skills:

- To draw

- Write

- Cook

- Game programming 

- Sing

- Play keyboard and guitar

- To compose

- To dance

Hobbies:

Basically, it's her skills + reading + playing video games + taking pictures of the landscape.

Job:

Usually she either works as a waitress in a coffee shop or works in a supermarket (working at the checkout or replacing products on shelves)

As much as many find it strange, MC is very happy in her work, and does not mind working in "simple" jobs (basically jobs that earn little), and as much as she doesn't have much money, just enough to live reasonably well, she is happy with what she has and doesn't care about the money.

College: 

She studies digital game design

I think that's it, there are some other things that I only do when I'm writing specific situations, for example, MC's opinions on certain subjects, and honestly I don't have time at the moment to make the MC's different opinions, and just say that she tries to be as neutral as she can, because she knows that extremes are never good, and that when asked which side she is in a situation (depending on what it is, but usually she says), she says doesn't have a side because it doesn’t identify herself by either side, because both are extreme, and this usually leads people to think that it’s on the fence, but it’s not like that, it’s more or less. "You were teleported to a place, there are two paths, one on the right and the other on the left, at the beginning of each of these paths there is a person, each talking about their paths and talking about why their path is the best of than the other and why you should follow their path. And then you must make a choice of which path to follow " But MC does not agree with either side, and will not wait there to see which side gives her the best benefit as many would do, she goes there and moves on, where there is no path, where there is no one, because she doesn't want to be on anyone's side, she wants to make her own opinions, and not follow what a group is saying. 

Oh, and one of the philosophies she follows is of yin and yang, which says something like "There is good and there is evil, both need each other to exist, there is no good without evil, and no there is evil without good, and that nothing can be completely good or evil, since, however small, there is evil in good, and there is good in evil. "

Some phrases she would say:

"You can say anything about me, but don't come and talk about my family"

"I can't always do it, but I always try to be balanced, because I know that nothing comes out of extremism, no matter which side."

"I'm a Christian, I may not have proofs but I believe in God, but I don't believe everything in the Bible because it was made by humans, and I know that many of them used and still use people's faith to do very bad things . "

"Sorry, but I suck at remembering names, in fact, I suck at remembering."

"Shit, I knew I was forgetting something."

"I hate logic, most of these things don't make any sense!"

"At least I have you with me here DN" (DN = dog name)

"There is nothing that is not so bad that it cannot get worse"

"I think I celebrated too soon"

"I sleep! But no matter what I do, I will be forever sleepy!"

"No matter what I do, my thoughts disturb me from the moment I wake up until bedtime, and even while I'm asleep. And it happens every day."

"Sometimes ... I think ... people would be better off if I didn't exist. I just hinder and hurt people." 

"I don't know when or how it started, I just know that I have been scared forever"

"I don't do it because I want to! It's not my fault if I'm easily distracted"

"I think writing is the only way to say what I feel"

"Yes, I know, I'm crazy, you don't have to tell me that"

"I'm not a normal person. Maybe I'm not even a human? What if I'm an alien and I don't know? A synthetic human? A robot with high artificial intelligence that is identical to that of humans?"

"I don't like to be afraid, but I love to see and read horror stuff."

"I love old things, they are so fascinating"

"What day is it today?"

"I just wanted to have a little courage that other people have"

"I have no hope of anything, as always, every time I had hope, very bad things happened, close people and pets died when I had hope that they would survive. For me, hope has long since died."

"I think, in a way, I am a miracle, just like my brother. I mean, it was almost impossible for my mom to have a baby, and look, here I am."

"I'm not cute!"

"I'm not short, I'm average height, it's the rest of the people who are very tall"

(Maybe I wrote a lot? Did I overdo it?)

Sorry if there is something confusing or errors in English 

[everyone-has-their-story]

Season 3 episode 10 commentary with my sister:

Okay NOW can I stalk their instagrams???

Let’s have a moment of silence to mourn that this is the last episode

This recap is depressing the shit out of me, like thanks for the reminder but no thanks

Please tell me he is not playing video games

SENNE!

Wait, go back for a second!....the poster above the tv says “worry less, laugh more” and if that isn’t a fucking tagline for Robbe then idk what is

Exams? No, Senne, not exams

Senne just munching on some snacks while Robbe is having a crisis

It’s not your fault Robbe!

Senne give him some brotherly advice

Stop mentioning her name!

LOLLL Senne you fool

Listen to the man!

Senne dropping the knowledge on Robbe..i love it

Oh shit it’s Christmas! Definitely forgot about that

Stop fighting!!

Zoe wtf you doing?

That fucking ringtone again..

His phone is bigger than his head

YAY!! **raises arms to the sky to celebrate** (news about his mom)

Him smiling means I’m smiling

Wow way to be a Debby Downer Milan…

Okay, but Robbe...where is your man?

Oh the hospital! Is he visiting his mom or Sander??

FUCK. MY. LIFE! Not her

GONE? Gone where??

Idc if I’m a bitch, but I still don’t like her

Explain yourself to him! What did you mean??

Was that a drawing of Robbe???

LOL to Britt if that was Robbe

I mean I guess we can let you know..

It was him!! Damn he is good

Fucking hell the shaky breaths are back

So did Sander just like leave all his shit there?

Yes call him

Damn right there is! (”there is an us”)

Damn right you do! (”i love you”)

I want him to call ALL of us immediately...except Britt

Cool so still no Sander?

Waddup Jens!

Listen to Jens, don’t go down that road

Sander!

There is that chernobyl again

Good to know you’re safe, but he just wants to be with you

Yes, Robbe..Chernobyl- Wait, the school!!!!!

RUNNNNNNN!!

Why do I know this song?

Oh god there are flashbacks

Why do I recognize this song?

I knew it was the school

More flashbacks?? Lord help me

Sanderrrr where are you

Oh shit, go back that was so cool (the drawings turning into flashbacks)

So many memories!!!!

This is so cool

Where is-- FOUND HIM

**presses pause** I feel the need to take a moment because this is going to be an emotional scene…. **presse play**

He look so lost

No, don't go away!

Oh god he’s crying..help

PAUSE! ..are those drawings of Robbe above his desk?? **peers closely at the tv** oh god they are **presses play**

Shit! They are all over the room!!

Yes, stay!

Nope he will always be there

Ahhh no he will!

We were all worried

Oh god he is holding his--nope he is kissing his hand

Nooo you’re not toxic

Holy shit this is so good

We BOTH have never felt something like that (RIP to her bf again)

Oh boy he said I love you..i’m a mess

He will always say it!

Not in any universe

Oh shit the song is back...where is that from??  **informs her it is from the first kiss** Oh well way to fuck me up with the soundtrack

Oh a game!

Omg the minute by minute already?

Yes, let’s play that

Yes, very chill

His little smile 

This is so sweet

The song is back!

Oh nooooo! Oh god

I’m not okay...not at all

Omg I wasn’t ready for a break down...

I don’t even know where to begin...Sanderrrr

Honestly their acting in this is fucking amazing

OMG! Call back to their almost first kiss!!

Pause! I’m sorry but play that scene again…

**physically covers her mouth for the entire 2nd time watching it**

One more time and then I swear we can move on, I just feel like I missed things…

**third time through** all the pictures!!! This is so painful to watch, but also makes me so happy. I’m so torn...I’m happy Sander has Robbe because Robbe is so sweet...this is hard to watch...I’m emotional on so many levels please don’t judge me...this is so much harder to watch than Skam...I hate how sentimental I am being because it just reminds me of you and I hate it...don’t judge me….also these actors are so fucking good, and I know I’ve said that but it’s true

Before we move on and I don’t care that I’ve paused it and rewound it like a thousands times, you’re gonna listen to another rant. There is so much to say about that scene and I don’t know if i will ever be able to say it all or put it into words and like I said before I’m being overly emotionally about this so please don’t judge me. I know that this is so different form Skam because they combined two scenes and there was a lot more discussion, but I liked the changes because I felt like it fit these characters more. And I love that Robbe never tried to be like oh that���s silly don’t think that, he was just like yeah that shit might happen but I’m still gonna be here. And the call back to the almost kiss was perfect. The whole scene was amazing and well done. Idk, there is so much more to say but I’m just gonna shut up for now

Okay...we can move on now

Oh sweet lord I wasn’t ready...that is fucking adorable

Little spoon Robbe!

Is this a Grease song??

That is the most annoying alarm

Don’t worry Britt, he already has

This is sweetest scene and no one has talked

No! He would never leave you!

Lol to the universe again

Oh yeah...school..that’s a thing

Ofc he is coming back, you silly billy

Still weirded out by the fact that they have little windows on their doors

Does Robbe know what pants are? Like feel free to wear them

Oh mother fucker…

Please tell this isn’t happening

I didn’t go through an entire season of hell with you two to have it end like this

Oh sweet fucking lord..I hate it

CUT! Scene over! 

Noo!

Fuck my life…

Brother and sister right here..love it

Oh hey Moyo

I mean he’s had better days but thanks for asking

Only good advice you’ve ever given dude

You better be okay with it, but thanks for saying it

MAYBE? Maybe it seemed that way? Boy..

I mean I guess you can be broerrs, but you’ve got a lot of work to do my friend

Jens...what?? Check your eyesight

No he would NOT do you

Hahahhaha Jens is butthurt again

He’d choose dying

LOL at you Aaron

I mean, never say never Aaron

Robbe laughing? A rare sight and I love it

Are they out shopping together??

Oh right..it’s christmas time..

NO, let’s stay on topic Zoe

Robbe out here being the relationship expert now

Agree to disagree Zoe

Okay cool let’s not focus on his good traits…

Dude same (Zoe says she feels like shit)

Hahahahaha disaster gay again

Oh Robbe, thank god you brought Zoe

I love this friendship

Damnit right it didn’t feel right

It does indeed (robbe says shit with Sander sucks)

Hell yes it feels right between you two

Oh hey Noor! Legit forgot about you for awhile

Awkward..

I mean yeah..but who wouldn’t want you (robbe) around? Fools, that’s who

She’s pretty cool, I’ll give you that

He’s better than alright...he’s phenomenal

Oooh a party! Hope I’m invited 

Aww Milan and Sander bonding! Love that

Cozy indeed

Milan as a babysitter sounds like a terrible idea

Did he just call him an angel???

Once again Milan is me, I am Milan

They are so fucking cute...they deserve it

The virus??? Holy shit. They started the coronavirus! You bastards

**dances** party time!!

Interior designers over here

Milan you sneaky man you...NO PEEKING!

Jack Frost?!?! Hahahhahahaha OMG hahahaha

Aaron you weirdo wtf???

LOL at Sanders face!! Same, dude same

Also sidenote: him saying he is Robbe’s bf...makes me so fucking happy

Those smiles at each other..fucking adorable

Noor! You made it!

Presents for everyone!

Who is giving alcohol to the Hot Mess Express??

No idea what just happened but ROBBE IS SMILING

Back that shit up! **rewinds** They really looked at each other after Milan said that! (about a cute boy for a present)

Milan disappoint level 100

OMG Noor got Sander?? And a Bowie shirt? Fucking legend

LOL at the fact that Noor is in between Robbe and Sander

Cuddles! (robbe and Sander on the couch)

Luca she is never going to understand anything sex related..poor girl

Back up! **rewinds** Robbe out here spinning his man on the dance floor, so cute

Oh good Lord Aaron is going for it?

Aaron man, don’t fuck it up

I know I should focus on Aaron, but Sander in the background smiling has my attention and I don’t feel bad about that at all

Aaron, man the fuck up! 

There ya go buddy

She is one of kind that’s for sure…

I know I give Amber a lot of shit but you go girl!!

AHHHHH!!!

Shock level 1,000

LOL at everyone’s reaction

**dances** this is my jam!!

DANCE FOR ME, DANCE FOR ME!!

Robbe go and dance my dude

Wait I remember the vlogs..nvm don’t dance

Sander and laughing is a beautiful combo

Oooo I see you Noor and Moyo

He told his mom!

Oh shit Sander looks good in this scene

Oh you got jokes again Sander? 

Yes meet the parents!!

I hope we get to see it (LOL at Kennedy)

Yeah but you’re bringing the BEST boy home

Robbe’s got jokes now too

Sander’s philosophy around Robbe now: clothing optional

Aww they’re so happy and cute! 

That is very true Robbe

The looks between--- oh shit hey Hot Mess Express!

OMG! Robbe said fuck all y’all I’m gonna make out with my bf in front of you

The fact that everyone is cheering them on and Robbe is comfortable with doing that...I’m overwhelmed

WAIT! It’s over?!?!

Holy shit I wasn’t ready…

I have so many thoughts on this season...it was so fucking good. Willem fucking killed it and whoever played Sander (informs her of his name) they are both Willem?! Wtf that’s confusing...anyways they both fucking killed it!! Robbe from episode 1 to now...I’m so proud...I have more thoughts so listen up

**goes on a rant for 10+ more minutes** I am definitely rewatching this season next week because I felt like i missed a lot and I want to focus on the small things

[cynicaldesire]

So what are your thoughts on season 4? Lay them on me!

My husband and I binged the entire Season 4 over the course of the weekend. We watched 6 episodes, then the last 4. We had a lot of feelings on it for a lot of reasons, mostly because I’m a writer, my husband is an artist, and we’re both critics because we have created work in the past.

My husband’s final rating was 6/10, wouldn’t watch it again but he wanted to give credit to the animators and staff that worked on it. I said I would give it a 4/10. It was so... disappointing. I’m gonna go on a bunch of rants about why I was displeased, so if you want to maintain your positive experience, you don’t have to continue.

So, before I get into the writing, I just want to point out that the sound design, music, and voice acting were all either poorly mixed because of COVID in-home booths or just shitty. The music didn’t pop off with any homages to actual game music and I couldn’t hear it most of the time. The voice acting of most of the cast was pretty great, but I hate Alucard’s voice. The murmuring breathy whispers of most of the cast is just annoying to me, but that’s a personal preference, I know. But a lot of other things didn’t have proper weight or punch to match what was happening.

The animation was also wildly inconsistent. My husband pointed out, again, COVID, so the animators were all probably working from home on deadlines and the Art Director, the guy meant to keep all the art on-model and consistent, probably wasn’t available to check work and send it back to the animators for changes. Or, there wasn’t sufficient time between when the animators sent there work in for changes to be requested. Don’t get me wrong, like with the voice cast, some of the animation was fucking sick, but it was just weighed down by all the poorly masked 3D shortcuts or off-model art.

(One of the things I kept thinking of when gore would happen was the Mortal Kombat devs that got PTSD from having to look at images of gore for the Fatalities. And I was like this isn’t worth all that. Fuck.)

Greta was fine, but she seemed flat. I’ve made her character before and been disappointed in how cool and nonchalant she is. She seems to be too good and relaxed at everything going on. That might’ve been the voice actor, but honestly? She fell flat for me. I didn’t not like her, she just didn’t feel very... well written? Like I said, she reminded me very much of a character I would make at first pass. And while I don’t mind or disagree with the choice to make her a love interest or even a close friend of Alucard, there was not enough buildup for it. Probably because she felt so flat to me.

Overall, on the writing front, I will say that it felt very... first draft. Like no one had an opportunity to look it over and say “Maybe don’t give Saint Germain’s whole motivation and backstory in episode 3?” Or not telegraphing the Death inclusion, or like... There’s so much that was just so poorly handled to me. There’s so many ways I personally would have done it differently or how it could’ve been handled better. There were so many characters that just stated their motivations and repeated them over and over again.

Isaac: ends last season hating humanity and having no reason to challenge that belief. Hates Hector for betraying Dracula. Full of hate and rage. This season: Opens with all his Night Creatures repairing a city, earing berries, and completely at peace with his past and his life. Flyseyes is there for ONE scene and never heard from again. And Isaac literally goes from that to invading Carmilla’s castle to DISAPPEARING. WHY?

The sequence with Isaac invading Carmilla’s castle was hilarious, too. Who the fuck is the hot demon? Some demon from the Wiki. Whomst were the fuckin human blokes with crossbows? Literally just human blokes with crossbows that they hired from a town somewhere else because apparently they didn’t have enough forces??????? The ring Hector ends up cutting off is never actually shown to force him to do something against his will? The fucking slave ring is also openly displayed in a bunch of other places and never utilized. It’s a useless McGuffin.

Carmilla descended into madness, or progressed through her logical steps violently due to solitude? And then when Lenore asks her what her motivations are, Carmilla tries to be coy and not answer the question so they end up having the same dialogue like 4 times? Lenore is somehow SURPRISED? Like, all of these people were human at some point, and that shit is never addressed, or if it is, it’s not remembered.

Hector was also here. He made a night creature, helped Isaac kill Carmilla - why did she explode so violently? - and then chilled in the castle the rest of the time. Like, nothing bad happened to him other than his finger. Which, show his hand every time he’s on screen, remind the audience of his injury. Isn’t it cool and edgy and shocking?

Saint Germain being just a shitty carnal entity was boring. He had a girlfriend he wanted to save so he could get laid, SNORE. When they showed her, she looked like Maria from Symphony of the Night, which has an ending that heavily implies her and Alucard hook up, so I was irritated that they coopted her appearance for this woman with no speaking lines that led Saint Germain to the Infinite Corridor.

Like, everything around Saint Germain’s story was pretty cool. If they hadn’t shown up literally in episode 3 through a sudden flashback his story and his motivations and also he’s the villain, the mystery of what he was doing was interesting. And for it to all just be told to us upfront? And then he just fucking died?

I had no fucks to give for Varney/Death. Death is not mentioned at any point before this season, he shows up seemingly randomly at the end as the Big Bad, and he’s just a big skeleton asshole. Ratko was at least a little interesting, but also wtf was he there for?

I also didn’t much care for Zamfir. I felt like there should’ve been two characters in her place. If one of them was crazy and the other was following their orders without knowing they were crazy? Cool. If she was crazy and didn’t ACKNOWLEDGE she was crazy? Better than what we got. The knights and the Underground Court and all the shit with Targoviste? Boring. Because, specifically, it demands a lot of suspension of disbelief that I didn’t have at that point.

Who the fuck was Dragan? What were all the monsters attacking the castle? Awful convenient for Alucard to have a shield now. He also had a bunch of skill from the SotN game, like the wolf form and the winged cape. Why did that one vampire have big bat wings and never again? Why did Varney call like literally everybody on the mirror phones? Why did he know to do that? Why did Saint Germain know him? WHERE DID TREVOR GET THE OTHER WHIP?

Trevor and Sypha were honestly probably the best handled. Sypha was herself but bigger and stressed. Trevor was also very tired and still a monster hunter. My husband was very happy with the “We’re just two sides of the same coin” philosophy Trevor had with Death, like Geralt feeling like a monster because he’s a Witcher. The idea that they aren’t exactly human and cause so much death but to the monsters. He wanted that explored. I was too busy being frustrated at the huge flashy animation fight to even remember that Trevor had said anything like that.

The magical weapons in Targoviste were cool plot devices. Much like with Varney and the mirrors and so many other things, it felt like they were there because the plot demanded it, not because there was some natural story for it outside of when Trevor and Sypha showed up.

But the single most disappointing thing was Vlad and Lisa living at the end. They didn’t want to see Alucard, absolute shit move regardless of their reasoning. The fact that they still went by Vlad and Lisa Tepes was bound to get back to Alucard somehow. And I... Being in Japan and engaging with a lot of Japanese media, I understand the way they use God is similar to the way they use Spirits, or Kami or something. God being used by a Western author makes it so wildly different. But I’m also... pretty against the idea of God in general, so the whole idea that “God” said Dracula and Lisa deserved a second chance is boring. Like, there’s so much wrong with this ending. It was only there for the shippers, probably.

Anyway. 4/10, wouldn’t watch again.

[nad-zeta]

Match up (ㆁᴗㆁ✿)

Hi! Could I get an IkeSen match-up please?? 😭I’m a 5'2.5" female (INFJ), I’ve got hazel eyes, a couple of ear piercings & shoulder length dark brown hair (though I had it deep purple when I could actually get it done before COVID). Career-wise I’m a graphic designer (as I’ve always loved the different arts and creative fields, be it classical art, interior design, fashion, music, dance) and on the non-art side I’ve always loved the social sciences like history, philosophy and psychology/sociology! I’m always learning & evolving my idea of the human condition, human nature, and the psychology of the masses. I also especially love logic games & puzzles and crack them quickly. (Though Math is lifelong enemy #1 no cap sorry Issac). I tend to take a while to properly open up to people and feel quite shy at first, though I’ve amazingly had people tell me I come off as chill and confident (even somewhat intimidating) even if on the inside I didn’t quite feel that way 😅 (useful right?). I definitely tend to observe and analyze people/situations before going in, though even if I’m thrown into something I’m great at thinking on my feet and getting things back under control. Alternatively, when with friends I’m very animated, open, loud, and always throwing out the jokes to raise the energy and have a good time! (Catch me watching & spam sending meme compilations at 3AM even though I know people are already asleep) It just takes me a while to make that transition and connection on that deeper level before I open up (I’m talking months here 😭) I’m a Virgo/Leo cusp with a Sagittarius moon and a Taurus Rising, so I definitely have a strong presence of both earth/fire energy. In professional situations or with people I’m not familiar with the Earth energy comes out, and with close friends or when I’m in my element I love to indulge in the fire. I guess you can say I crave both order and freedom… which feels so divisive LOL. Though I always seem to be drawn to things that are polar opposites in many aspects of life, so that’s nothing new to me. I flip between “the world is great and life is good” and “the world is cruel and we suffer with no purpose” on a daily basis like it’s my job. Though I don’t think life having no purpose is be a bad thing, it means you’re free to execute your own will. I believe good an evil are both within humanity’s callings (and our world certainly reflects it), but personally I’d rather try to add to the good than despair about the bad. A quote that’s always resonated with me and sums that concept up is “What is more noble? To be born good, or to contradict your evil nature through sheer effort and power of will?” Thank you for your time!! I really enjoy your work and am excited to see what you come up with! Though honestly no hard feelings if you aren’t feeling up to it 😁😁((Admin Maru - this acc has 2 admins so I thought I should specify Lol))

Hi hi Dear!❤🌻 thank you so much for the request and sorry for taking soooooo long!❤🌻 Aww u make me blush😳, i’m so happy you have been enjoying these match ups and i hope you have a super good day! ❤😊🌼 Also, i’m always up to write a matchup as long as yall dont mind waiting for my slow writings skills! 😳🐇🦊hehe anyways here is ya matchup Admin Maru! @sengoku-revolution​

So I match you with……….. Mitsuhide

The first thing Mitsuhide noticed about you was your hazel green eyes observing him from the corner of the room. 

You had just been dragged back to the castle and named as the Oda princess. After Nobunaga made the declaration, you were guided to your seat in the council room. You looked at all the unfamiliar faces around you, but one man in particular, caught your eyes. He reminded you of a puzzle that you desperately wanted to solve, with this whispy mysterious air about him. You sat there and stared at him until his gaze lifted and he locked eyes with you. You panic for a second not expecting him to look up, so you shyly averted your eyes with a small smile. 

When the war council was over, it was Mitsunari who first approached you to strike up a conversation. You were rather shy, so you didn’t say much, and soon Masamune was beside Mitsunari asking you all sorts of random questions. You almost laughed at a comment that Masamune had made, “why you so quiet all of a sudden lass, cat got your tongue. What happened to that chilled confident lass from moments ago eyeing everyone in the council room.” That’s when Ieyasu piped up approaching you as well, “chilled and confident,” he scoffed, “more like scary and intimidating, no wonder Hideyoshi thinks she is a spy.” At the mention of his name, Hideyoshi too joined the group eyeing you suspiciously, he, did, not, trust, you. 

Finally, someone came to your aid and rescue, to save you from the overwhelming group of warlords. Mitsuhide reached into the crowd and grabbed your hand, pulling you as he walked away. He smiled his snek like smile at the confused look on his fellow warlords faces as he led you out of the room.

He showed you around the castle while observing you for any signs or proof that you were, in fact, an assassin or spy. But he found none; instead, he found a shy reserved little mouse, who was too shy to even meet his eyes. Finally after a long day of touring around the castle Mitsuhide showed you to your new room. He bid you good night, with a kiss on the hand and left.

The next day you started to help out all the castle staff, you didn’t want to just sit around and do nothing. So you opted to help out the maids, and deliver messages for Nobunaga. Hideyoshi still didn’t trust you, but that all changed one day. 

You were sitting with all the warlords in the banquet hall, people watching and observing the world around you, when something caught your attention. You saw a glint of something coming from the corner of the room. You narrowed your eyes and tried to focus on it to get a better look, when your heart suddenly stopped. It was an arrow that was aimed right for Nobunaga. Thank the lucky stars for your observational skills, as it gave you time to get up and jump right in front of its path right before it could hit Nobunaga. To be fair, it may not have been the best plan, but it was the best one you could come up with thinking on your feet. The arrow embedded itself in your arm and before you could even say anything, the warlords had the attacker surrounded. Hideyoshi was going to scold you for pushing his lord, but when he saw the blood dripping down and arrow embedded in your arm, he realized that you had yet again saved his lord’s life and that you were no enemy.

Surprisingly enough it was Mitsuhide who was at your side in seconds, picking you up and taking you back to your room to patch you up. None of you spoke as he gently treated your wound. Each of you were lost in your own world. He had noticed from watching you, that you were quite a naïve and trusting creature. You hadn’t yet been tainted by the cruel realities of this world. He felt this overwhelming need to want to protect you and get to know you better.After he patched you up, he went over to Nobunaga and asked to become your teacher to help you survive the turbulent times, cause it was clear from the incident that you had 0 self-preservation skills. 

The next day Mitsuhide made his way up to your room to give you, your first lesson, when he spotted you immersed in your art. He stood beside you and watched you design a kimono. It was absolutely stunning, he was awestruck at your talents. Once the sketch was done, you looked up and saw Mitsuhide sitting beside you, in your shock, you fell back. Perfect opportunity for Mitsuhide to take hold of your sketchbook and page through it. He was shook, you were truly a talented little thing. He then turned back to you and offered you a hand up to sit closer so he could start his lesson. And when you saw the books he had brought you unconsciously made a big sigh. Out of all the topics Mitsuhide had set out to teach you about, why was math one of them. He laughed, as you pouted at the thought of having to sit through a maths lecture. 

Despite your hate for math, thankfully, your school taught you well, and you breezed through the lesson. When Mitsuhide came to the stopping point for the day, he made the two of you some tea. He knew there was more to you than that shy exterior, and he was determined to get to know the little mouse within a little bit better. 

Everyday Mitsuhide came by your room, to teach you about various topics and subjects, ranging from economics to self-defence. It had been about a month of these lessons, and with each one, you started getting more and more comfortable around the Kitsune. He was a kind and patient teacher and would explain concepts over and over again until you understood them.

Mitsuhide got a full glimpse of your true personality when he taught you about the human condition, human nature, and the psychology of the masses. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw the glimmer of excitement in yours. That day you had actually been the one to teach sneki boy some stuff, as these were topics that you knew a fair amount on. The two of you sat for hours and hours chatting about social sciences, and you loved every moment of it. Mitsuhide enjoyed this new side of you, chatting freely about the things that interested you and honestly your smile was simply just too radiant to look at. 

In the weeks that followed your lesson with Mitsu ended, but his daily visits didn’t. He had successfully made that transition from acquaintance to a friend as the two of you connected on a deeper level. The more you revealed to him, the more he fell in love with you and vice versa. He loved how you were just so expressive and adored your loud, animated side. He could sit for hours and hours just watching and listening to you, tell stories. As you would tell them in the most curious of ways.

He loved it when you would deliver letters to him and then stay for tea. Often these tea dates lasted well into the night, as the two of you flung teasing comments and jokes at each other. Some night the conversation was more deep and serious, but other night the two of you would just be crackheads at 3am, joking and chatting about the most random of topics. Often you would catch yourself mid-laugh and just think about how much you loved this sneki boi. To the world, the two of you were mysterious, reserved, but together your true personalities came out, and you could be yourselves. 

Mitsuhide loved how you just raised the energy in any room you walked into. You managed to brighten even the dullest of situations with your chaotic, playful energy. And Mitsuhide low key loved that he was to only one that got to see it, as you were still a tiny bit shy with the other warlords.

Mitsuhide had long ago fallen in love with you, but the day he knew you were truly the one for him was when you were out in the market shopping. He had spotted you buying some fabric for your latest project, and of course, he couldn’t let an opportunity to tease you go by. As he approached, he overheard you debating with some soldiers. They were badmouthing Mitsuhide, calling him an evil man and saying that he was better off dead. You knew of Mitsuhide’s past, and you knew the mask he showed the world, but you had also seen the true Mitsuhide. The kind kitsune that always tried his hardest to keep his friends and family safe, even if that meant turning himself into a bad guy. You squared your shoulders and repeated a quote that had always resonated with you to the ignorant soldiers, “"Tell me then, what is more noble? To be born good, or to contradict your evil nature through sheer effort and power of will?” That statement left the men speechless. Mitsuhide then came up behind you, scaring the soldier away, they knew better than to trash talk Mitsuhide to his face. Mitsuhide then gently took your hand in his, and took you out for some tea, where he asked you about the quote as it too had resonated with him.

When Mitsuhide found out you loved logic games and puzzles, he knew he had found his soulmate. At this point, sneki boi was head over heels for you, and he was determined to make his feelings known. He decided to confess his feelings using a puzzle box and a logic game for you to play. It was based on a series of puzzles and riddles that you needed to solve. 

It started the moment you walked into Mitsuhide’s manor to drop off some letters. You were greeted by a snow-white fox and a letter attached to its collar. You solved puzzle after puzzle and riddle after riddle. Eventually, you were lead to a flower field just outside of town, thank goodness for Mitsuhide teaching you how to ride, otherwise that would have been a painfully long walk. You rode to the big sakura tree surrounded by flowers that you and Mitsuhide had ridden to on one of your first outrides. 

As you approach the tree, you saw a big gift wrapped up in delicate paper at the base of the tree. You slowly opened it, to reveal a puzzle box. It took you a few minutes, but you finally managed to solve the puzzle to reveal a small bell-flower on the inside and a note, “Look up.” 

You looked up to see another gift hidden between the pink petal of the tree. Again thankful for one of Mitsuhide’s various lessons, you carefully climbed up the tree and opened the present to reveal a kimono. Still, not just any kimono, it was the one that Mitsuhide had watched you sketch that very first day. Your eyes started tearing up at the kind gesture. You lifted the soft fabric up and down fell one final note, “I congratulate you for completing all the puzzles little one.” It was a long letter confessing all Mitsuhide’s undying love for you. It also stated that if you felt the same way, then he would be at the festivals gate waiting for you and if not than…. You didn’t read the last part as you had long ago fallen in love with the Kitsune. You raced back to town where the festival was being held and standing by the entrance of the festival was Mitsuhide, just as promised. You wasted no time running and tackling him into a big hug.

The more Mitsuhide discovered about you, the more he loved you. He loved that you loved the arts as much as he did. 

He loved to pull you into his arms and dance with you for hours and hours. He knew you loved to dance and music, so if you were feeling down, he would play you a song or dance for you. This always seemed to bring a smile to your face especially when he would pull you in and start dancing with you, and if you resisted he would tickle you until that bright, radiant smile that he loves so much is back on your face.

Mitsuhide definitely found it amusing that you would switch between “the world is great, and life is good” to “the world is cruel, and we suffer from no purpose.” Though whichever day you are having, he would be by your side to love and support you. He would make those better days even better, and on the days when you feel the world is cruel, he would wrap you up in his arms and protect you from the harsh world. 

He enjoyed debating with you on the topic of humanity and good and evil. He loved to hear your opinions and thoughts on all of it. He agreed with your resolution about adding more good to the world then despair. 

Often you and Mitsuhide can be found nestled in each other’s arms in deep conversation as he spends hours and hours playing with your hair. You have brought a sense of purpose to this boys life, and that is to execute his will to protect and love you for the rest of his days. 

When the two of you are together, the room is always filled with endless laughs and teasing comments. You better be ready to travel all around with Mitsuhide as now that he has caught you he will never let you go. Trapping you in his arms and showering you with endless amounts of love and adoration for the rest of your lives

Other potential matches……………….. Yoshimoto 

I hope you enjoyed this dear and I hope you have a super good day!🦊❤🌻

[cannotescape]

Thoughts on The ballad of songbirds and snakes

I was curious to read the latest installment in the hunger games saga and I wasn’t disapointed. I’ll try to stay spoiler free in the review. In any case, the spoilers will be after a read more.

Many successful YA authors has been revisiting their work these past years. I... wasn’t impressed by most of them. The only sequel I’ve read that was worth the original work was La belle sauvage imo (not the entire Book of Dust series, sadly).

After reading The ballad of songbirds and snakes, it seems that the key for writing a sequel is actually to make it a prequel lol, with 0 to 1 character from the original. Add to it foreshadowing and a few hints and you get a winner.

A Snow redemption arc?

Knowing the premise, my first fear was that Snow was going to be the protagonist. I was smelling the redemption / justification arc from miles away. But Collins isn’t Rowling and Snow isn’t Snape (there is a Snape-like character though. he’s pretty interesting). The book can be summarized in one sentence: explaining a behavior isn’t the same as excusing it.

The book put the reader through an interesting experience: should we root for Snow, knowing what he will do in the future, and how long can we excuse his behavior? My reading experience was basically me trying to guess what Collins wanted me to think. I was waiting for the end to make up my mind about the book. There were hints that made me pause and go “huh” but I truly wasn’t sure how all of this was going to end.

I understood really late that Collins just let her readers choose what they wanted to think. You want to excuse Snow? You can, there’s enough material for that, and there’s enough good people around him for you to root for him. Linking his fate to Lucy Gray’s was clever. Making us believe that they were in the same boat (the hunger theme and the attention given to food made sure of that), when they couldn’t be farther apart? Well done. I can’t believe I fell for it.

So yeah, in my mind, Snow definitely isn’t redeemed or even excused in the end. You end up hating him even more. Collins doesn’t do manicheism apparently, so you get to empathize with him. Life and people put him in a difficult situation. But his pride and the importance he has given to his family’s status is what allowed people to blackmail him into doing... things.

Hints that Snow wasn’t being redeemed:

- talking about Lucy Gray like she’s his property - his strategy of differentiating her from the districts and immediately making her a potential Capitol citizen - not visiting Clemmensia in the hospital (it was emphasized enough times to make me pause) - choosing ignorance when faced with a situation he doesn’t want to deal with (refusing to acknowledge what Tigris must have done to survive during the war) - being quick as fuck to justify killing people (self-defense, yeah, but for how long?) - being condescending against Sejanus and district born people.

2. Just another Hunger Games book?

I started reading the story thinking it was going to be a hunger games book. It’s not. First of all, the games are nothing like the future ones. For historical and plot-related reasons (they’re building the games after all). What is striking is the lack of excitement: from the audience in the Capitol, and from the readers. Collins knows how to build suspense, she proved it with the first trilogy. It made the catharsis worked 100%: we were as much the spectators of the games as the Capitol.

Removing the excitement from the games? Making them dull and exposing them as the sheer horror show they are? Bold move. I also noticed that, overall, the tributes showed more empathy than in Katniss’ games. The war ended 10 years before. They had yet to forget “who the real enemy is”.

Just like in the THG, Collins used metaphors of the games in different parts of the book. The mentors have their own games going on (with a “prize” that is often presented as a lifesaver) + what happens in the very end. It didn’t bother me. I like symbolism and the games pervading every aspects of life is a good one.

What doesn’t make this a hunger games book is also the fact that... Katniss isn’t Snow. We’re following his story but he isn’t the real protagonist. Lucy Gray is a much better candidate, but the book is an actual demonstration of what happens when the narrative is taken away from you. The third person narrator was a nice change too. I think it allowed the narrator to present his thoughts as the truth without being immediately seen as biased. Free indirect discourse also makes you forget that the thoughts being expressed are Snow’s. Until the very end, when it becomes impossible to separate him from the narrator.

3. Class analysis

The rise of the bourgeoisie / nouveaux riches vs the fall of an ancient aristocracy grasping at straws to stay in power. Classic.

I don’t remember who theorized it (Gramsci maybe? or Paretto?) but the best way for a system to stay in place is to welcome a few “exceptional” people (and the word is meaningful in the book) from the lower but rising class. The Capitol is actively implementing this policy. The war made them aware of the benefits of having allies in the districts, mainly the richest families. The end of the book emphasizes the link between bourgeoisie and aristocracy - between money and status. And the most succesful citizen will be at the intersection of them.

Bonus: mockingjays and jabberjays being metaphors of the bourgeoisie and aristocracy. Mockingjays are a district evolution of the Capitol-made jabberjays, and they’re slowy but surely taking over.

Meaningful quote: “Give it up,” he muttered to the thing. “You’re no jabberjay.”

Oh, and what happens when the decaying aristocracy doesn’t want to bulge or evolve and the rising bourgeoisie is getting tired of being refused power and privilege?! Yep, a revolution. Not saying a revolution led by the working class can’t happen (it’s basically the hunger games’ plot), but the bourgeoise / aristocracy allyship certainly can slow the process down.

4. The hanging tree

Loved to read about how the song was created. And seeing its meanings change the more the story progresses. At first a remembrance of the Capitol’s cruelty, then a way to communicate a meeting place. Finally, a mourning song about treason. The line “they said who murdered three” only hit me with its full meaning two days after finishing the book lol. The murderer wasn’t hung after all.

Meaningful quote: “Music caused trouble”. I fucking love the simple irony in all those little sentences when you know how all this will end.

Tldr: All in all, I really enjoyed this book. It gives you insight into Panem’s world (and ours let’s be honest, the parallels are blatant) and makes Katniss’ story even more powerful imo.

Also, the only love story worth mentioning was one between two girls lmao so there’s that (it’s a blink and you miss it kind of thing, but it’s there).

Spoilers under the cut (not very spoilery tbh but better be safe).

5. Lucy Gray

Like I said, the real protagonist. Her legacy has literally been erased, which is fucking heartbreaking. There’s a reason why I couldn’t remember if she was even mentioned in the original trilogy.

And yet her legacy lived on. The song she wrote not only was passed down from one generation to the next depite being immediately forbidden, but it also became the symbol of the rebellion. Same symbolism can be seen in the mockingjays, who are deeply associated with her.

I just have a lot of feelings about her and I’m happy that Katniss made everything worth it in the end. And despite being two very different characters, Katniss became her reincarnation designed specifically to haunt Snow. And I just love that Katniss doesn’t know anything of Lucy Gray. But she’s unknowingly reenacting her life. Because her legacy was that powerful. Or because everything that Snow hated in District 12 are very present in these two strong girls. Funny what an environment can do

Meaningful quotes: “Well, I hope old you doesn’t haunt new you. We’ve already got enough ghosts between us.”

“Good-bye Lucy Gray, we hardly knew you.”

“She could fly around District 12 all she liked but she and her mockingjays would never harm him again.”

6. The philosophy behind the book

Freedom vs order and security, the social contract, what an individual can do against a corrupted society, is it possible to change things from the inside? (interesting to have Plutarch’s ancestor mentioned), the elite reproduction (hi Flickerman!), what do cricumstances do to human beings (the Mary Shelley’s quote at the beginning).

Meaningful quote : “People aren’t so bad, really,” she said. “It’s what the world does to them. Like us, in the arena. We did things in there we’d never have considered if they’d just left us alone.”

[justjensenanddean]

CW Star Jensen Ackles Invites AD Inside His Family Home in Austin

Jensen and his wife, Danneel, worked with a local Austin team to devise a lakeside home with tongue-in-cheek touches and a musical through line

 Kathryn Romeyn

NOVEMBER 27, 2018 10:30 AM

There’s a lot going on inside the Lake Austin home of actors Jensen and Danneel Ackles—a lot of color, a lot of texture, endless elements begging their stories to be told. If you need a quick snapshot: The living room is scattered with guitars and, on the shag rug, Technicolor floor pillows; antique Venetian dioramas of Lilliputian-sized rooms are embedded into the white-oak walls, while a hanging cage traps gilded Barbie dolls by Micky Hoogendijk; on top of a shelf housing a record player, a photograph of Tom Waits sits next to a chicken skeleton; a regal white peacock perches on the side of the mercantile-style bar. There’s the master bedroom swaddled in Trove wall covering bearing vintage photography of 1920s opera boxes. And the two-story screened-in porch holds a table crafted from a 2,000-year-old cypress sinker log, a storied Boyd Elder cow skull, and four-foot glass lanterns from Tony Duquette’s estate.Indeed, Danneel and Duquette share a similar philosophy. “More is more is more!” Danneel says emphatically. “More is the most.” Still, the Ackleses' five-bedroom, 7,500-square-foot residence isn’t actually an ode to opulence but rather an evocative tribute to key passions at the core of their personalities: the music and aesthetics of the late ’60s, Austin’s art scene, and imaginative oddities and occultist ephemera, perhaps appropriate considering Jensen’s longtime role on the CW’s Supernatural.After deciding to leave Brentwood, California, and coming this close to putting in an offer on a Lake Austin fixer-upper, the couple set their gaze on a house three doors down, sans “for sale” sign. “As we drove by, Danneel and I both looked at our real estate agent and were like, ‘See, that is the kind of house we’re looking for,’” recalls Jensen. Adds Danneel, “we wanted something less ostentatious.” Fortunately, the owner was willing to sell, but the property was far from turnkey and required an overhaul to go from what Danneel calls the “Texas Tuscan look"—generic stuccoed track mansion—to a wood-clad ranch-style stunner.

Danneel, a Tony Duquette superfan, was over the moon when Santini brought the stained glass pendants she’d bought from his estate. Photo: Douglas Friedman 

The slightly sunken living room with the deep blue banquette couch, white shag rug, macrame chair, and muscular oak beams is Jensen’s favorite space.Photo: Jeff Wilson

Jensen and Danneel enlisted Austin architect Paul Lamb and Abode principal interior designer Fern Santini to kickstart what ended up being a very collaborative renovation—even the Ackleses' eldest child, five-year-old JJ, got into the fun, choosing everything in her Pinterest-worthy bedroom. At their initial meeting with Santini, the potential for partnership was evident when she pulled up in an auspicious 1967 E-Type Jaguar. “I mean, it’s just like the coolest thing ever,” says Jensen of the car, which was made in the same year Danneel had said she wanted to recreate in the Austin home so as to pay tribute to the Laurel Canyon bungalow where the couple once lived. “People like Carly Simon had played guitar there,” Danneel says. “It was a magical little place. So when Fern pulls up in that car ... We just bonded over music and a love of that time period and had our vision right off the bat.” 

Executing that vision involved blowing out the majority of the house’s interior, taking it down to the studs, and reconfiguring it. “It was very closed and very ‘90s,” says Santini. Extensive structural work was devised by Lamb, one of Santini's frequent creative conspirator. “Paul is from New Orleans and I’m from Louisiana, and we have the same odd sense of humor and style,” says Danneel, who saw a residential elevator he’d done entirely in red velvet and said, “That’s the guy for me!” The foursome worked beautifully together—that is, after Jensen learned early on to keep his mouth shut if and when he doubted any stylistic choices. When shown the idea for a rich, royal blue sofa, “I was like, ’Y’all are crazy!’” says Jensen. “But then I just thought, I’m not going to get in their way.”

Smart man, considering a highly personalized space began to unspool under Santini and Lamb's direction. “It was imperative that the house express the Ackleses—young, bold, and irreverent,” Lamb says. “It had to be full of humorous and endearing eccentricities and it needed to radiate a comforting yet exotic familiarity.” He simplified and opened spaces, flipped the feel from a masonry house to a wood-framed home—thanks to exposed beams, larger expanses of windows, and rich wooden ceilings—and, perhaps most transformational, added a breezy two-story screened porch that altered the entire profile. “The former house was straight-laced and vaguely Mediterranean,” Lamb says. “Now it is an eclectic, free-spirited, Austin-style lake house.” Santini calls it “a cross between Joni Mitchell and the Serge Gainsbourg–Jane Birkin thing that was going on in Paris at the same time. It’s very hip but it’s low-key.”

Musically, the home is rich with sound, thanks to Jensen’s collection of guitars and the McIntosh turntable Santini says she “has real fetish for, after spending my entire career trying to hide stereo equipment.” There’s also a surfeit of historical and meaningful music-related artwork—think photographs of Yasgur’s Farm in Woodstock and a house where Bob Dylan recorded. “The hand-scraped wood floors undulate quite heavily, and we’ve got these giant beams and wood all around that feel like you’re in the hull of a giant ship,” Jensesn says. “What that does is it creates an amazing acoustic sound. We’ve always had music in our lives, and we wanted to pass on that tradition.”

The parents of three also are active supporters of local art. “We’re not the type who need it to all be the same. That’s criminal to me, almost,” says Danneel of their home full of diverse pieces from Austin and Marfa, including female artists from galleries like Women and Their Work. Santini describes the pair as risk-takers who both led the charge on outside-the-box thinking and let her push the limits. In their third home together, the Ackleses hit their stride, nailing a personally reflective infusion of edge, humor, and spirit.

“It goes to that having a history, having a story,” says Jensen, who, with his wife, selects works based on a gut feeling as opposed to popularity or perceived value. It’s the same way Danneel approached design. “We have so many friends who come into the house and are like, ‘Oh my gosh, I love this—it’s so crazy and unexpected. But man, I would have never picked out all these things, and I wouldn’t have been brave enough to do it!’” she says. “I’ve heard this over and over, and I wish more people would just be brave and go with what makes them happy.” 

The home’s entry was designed to feel like an outdoor living space according to Santini, who sourced an 1850s English table and unusual Swedish lantern from the 1820s to anchor the room. The woven stools are from Tidelli, and the headless deer with ferns are by Italy’s Imperfetto Lab.  

Architect Paul Lamb’s significant removal of walls led to a feel-good expansiveness where there are no boundaries. “It all kind of flows,” says Jensen. “You never feel like you’re in just one room.” In the media room, they did the least amount of work, painting the dark ceiling trusses to lighten the space and putting a German smear on the orange-y fireplace to tone it down. 

The most Texas room in the house is the Marfa-imbued dining space, where the couple’s cherished Boyd Elder bull skull hangs. It’s part of a 10-piece series from the ’70s, the most famous of which was on the cover of the Eagles’ Their Greatest Hits album. “Back in the ‘60s and ‘70s bands on tour wanted to have an artist with them, and Boyd was like the muse for the Eagles,” says Danneel, adding of the late artist, “I believe he dated Joni Mitchell, and she has one of the pieces.” 

The slightly sunken living room with the deep-blue banquette couch, white shag rug, macrame chair, and muscular oak beams is Jensen’s favorite space. “There are just so many textures in that living room and vibrant colors, and it’s all surrounded by this amazing wood. I can just sit there and pick away at a guitar or play records all day long,” he says. 

Behind the sofa is a gold birdcage artwork by Austin artist Micky Hoogendijk. It’s an observation on “women who seem to be trapped by money and possessions and they’re OK with it; they like living in that gilded cage,” says Danneel. “It looks intense but when you get close to it they’re all smiling and happy and unaware that they’re in this cage because they’re gold and perfect. For me that’s just somewhere I never want to be, so I was really attracted to that.” 

Danneel spends a lot of time in the babies’ room (22-month-old twins Zeppelin and Arrow) and the kitchen, where the kids’ favorite toy is a rolling acrylic table from the ‘50s. (“Fern would have a heart attack,” she laughs.) They tore the space down to nothing and built it back from scratch. “It was a totally different feel, and very kind of country looking, which didn’t blend well with the rest of the house,” Jensen says. Now, to Lamb, “the kitchen’s glossy painted wood boards look like pinstripes, crisp and good-natured, like a happy kitchen in the Hamptons.”

“There’s not a space they don’t use,” says Santini of the house she worked on with Jensen and Danneel. The reimagined pool room taps into their proclivity for spooky oddities with framed tarot cards and a game table that could work for board games or even séances, says Lamb, who added a secondary kitchen for big gatherings with access to a barbecue area on the lawn, and a wine room. 

A native Southerner, Danneel fought hard for the addition of a screened-in porch, which Lamb had the vision—inspired by Greenwood Plantation in St. Francisville—to make two stories tall. “I wanted more than anything to be able to sit out there, not get eaten alive by mosquitos, and look at the lake and watch the boats go by,” says the actress. Jensen’s favorite piece in the house is the long table, custom made using a 2,000-year-old cypress log that had sunk and was buried on the West Bank of New Orleans. 

The bar—black walnut with black and white veined marble—is on one end of the large living room and is the site of frequent small parties involving music, either live or from the McIntosh turntable. The cabinets were specially made to light prized bourbons, and on the side is a white taxidermy peacock Santini tracked down over months. Flooring throughout the house is hand-scraped Texas post oak with character to spare. 

The master bedroom and the adjacent sitting room are clad in reclaimed barn wood, juxtaposing the whimsical wallpaper covered in sections by Japanese-inspired barn door panels that allow for flexible boundaries. Jensen said of the scheme, “You guys are losing me, but it sounds awesome, so knock it out!” Danneel already owned the two petrified wood and resin log tables that sit in front of the vintage ‘50s daybed with Mongolian lamb, though the majority of what’s in the home was selected or made specifically for it. 

Inspiration for their master bathroom shower came from an Architectural Digest story featuring a steel and glass shower in the home of Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka. Lit by Apparatus fixtures, Lamb conceived a simple vaulted space with a white oak board ceiling and fumed and cerused walnut cabinets with a slight Tansu feel. A Kyle Bunting cowhide rug is centered on the room, and Holly Hunt ombre-dyed handkerchief linen window treatments frame the lake view.  

The pair’s five-year-old daughter, JJ, helped pick out all her own bedroom decor. “The more color the better,” says Danneel. Santini calls it “hippie in training.” Like in the rest of the home, her walls are plaster. 

The ultra-private home looks out at a nature preserve across the water. Durable throw pillows around the house were made of old quilts purchased online. “We bought a lot of them and mixed them all up,” says Santini. “There’s nowhere in the house where you feel like you have to tip toe around or can’t sit. That was definitely intentional.”

Inside and out, Lamb and Santini ensured that the Ackleses’ Austin home “expresses them—young, bold, and irreverent. It had to be full of humorous and endearing eccentricities and it needed to radiate a comforting yet exotic familiarity.” 

architecturaldigest

[hollowcrovvn]

The Ostensive Fumblings of Being Human (part 3)

Pairing: Connor x female!reader Rating: T (please note rating change) Summary: Set two months after the ending of Detroit: Become Human, androids are living in government created “pop-up” communities while efforts are being made to integrate them into society. You are a grad-student volunteer with the Detroit Crisis Response Unit (DCRU), working to help with relief efforts. And now, finally it’s time for that coffee.

Notes: Disclaimer: I am obsessed with Machiavelli so it was only a matter of time before I threw him in here. And by obsessed I mean I loathe most of his points of view and like some of them. It's a love-hate thing. One of my first “date questions” is always on Machiavelli and I feel like it is very relevant given the upheaval and changes in the “government” in the end of the game as a result of the revolution.Though his bit on Moses is making me have all the Markus-needs-to-eventually-appear inklings. (part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (ao3)

It had started as just a regular conversation on interests, tucked in the back of the coffee shop where there were nice sleek couches to lounge in, but had divulged into an intense debate on one of the most important topics of the past-- Kindles.

“Okay. The world treated eReaders like the devil in the early 2010s. Now? Can barely find a printed book anywhere.”

“Which has cut down on mass deforestation since paper is no longer in high demand.” Connor noted, playing devil’s advocate so perfectly it was enough to make a conflict addicted girl swoon.

“Exactly! So why all the fuss back when? Cause of some preoccupation with nostalgia ? Even now you got guys like Hank who bemoan the loss of paperbacks, as if we’re all gonna forget how to read in the meanwhile.”

Connor smiled and reached out, plucking the sleeve of your jacket aka the remake of the 2003 Canada Goose brand. He sat back, looking pleased with himself as you grumbled into your second latte. Granted, it hardly looked like coffee at all but more like chocolate milk with the amount of creamer you’d had them use. You’d refused to order your usual, to Connor’s chagrin. He had not yet it seemed formed an opinion to what your actual favorite was.

“It’s different! They responsibly source the materials for those coats now.” you insisted, but Connor only smiled and smiled, refusing to concede to your point. As if he had any room to talk. This man had at least four different styles, alternating between professional, casual professional, street  and hipster circa 2010. He mixed them sometimes to interesting effects. You were pretty sure he spent the majority of his paycheck on clothes.Then again, after spending most of his life being forced to wear the same damn android branded attire, you could hardly blame his enthusiasm.

“One could argue the shift to electronics however, is contributing to the climate change phenomenon.” Connor added, picking up the paperback book in question that had started this conversation. It was one of Hank’s, which was shocking. The Prince by Machiavelli. You half wondered if it was meant to be a joke on Connor’s expense or if Hank had actually recommended something halfway decent, if not a bit pessimistic, for the Android to learn about.

You huffed, “So we’re killing the planet no matter what. Great. Cheery. I need another coffee.”

Connor’s LED whirled, blinking before settling a solid blue. “Your pulse is elevated to 97 beats per minute and your blood pressure has raised by 8 and 6 points in systolic and diastolic blood pressure, respectively. I would advise switching to water.”

“How do you know that's from the caffeine and not your innate magnetism .” you said, trying to lower your voice to a “sultry” level, but only managing to laugh.

“That would be highly improbable. I emit no traceable magnetic fields.”

Then the mother fucker winked .

You had begun to realize the parts of his personality you thought were intentional deadpan humor, were in fact, just deadpan facts. That one though? Definitely intentional . He picked up the book, thumbing open the pages that were dogeared and worn.

“Published in 1532, a political treatise by Italian diplomat and political-theorist, Niccolo Machiavelli. Considered one of the first books of modern philosophy, it’s topics range from human nature, military prowess, governments and history.”

He flipped to a specific page that you could tell had been once been highlighted and circled several times, now faded with time. Once upon a time, maybe Hank had noted it.

“Men judge generally more by the eye than by the hand, for everyone can see and few can feel.” he read aloud, perfect and clear. You shut your eyes and listened.

“Every one sees what you appear to be, few--” he stopped abruptly, drawing your attention upward. He swallowed, his throat bobbing, “Few... really know what you are.”

His LED flickered yellow for a few seconds and then faded back to blue. You didn't really have the heart to tell him the quote was being taken wildly out of context, because it fit too well. It spoke to him. Let it mean what he wanted it to mean.

“This should be a very interesting read. Have you read it?” he asked, turning to the beginning of the book.

“Oh yeah, me and about 100 other people in PHI 1100. “Contemporary Moral Issues”. After I limped my way through the introductory course, I managed to do somewhat decent there.”

“Do you enjoy philosophy?”

“I tolerate it. Barely. With clenched teeth. I think it’s all well and good to “feed your mind” as Dolce would say, as long as your stomach is full. That’s not a common thing for the poor though so philosophy has always seemed to me as… well, a rich-man’s way to kill time.”

You swished the remaining dregs of your latte around in the bottom of your cup.

“I think it’s real easy to sit on high telling people they need to think of this, or that when you don’t have to worry about where your next meal is coming from.”

Connor gave a wry smile, “Then it is a good thing I don’t eat. I will need to read a few more selections before I form a more in depth opinion.”

“Knock yourself out, hipster. I’ll send you all my ebooks I had to get for the classes if you want.”

He perked up, the LED on his temple spiraling.

“My designation code should appear now on your phone for upload.” he said with excitement. His eyes held onto yours patiently, the intensity of it making you flounder, quickly grabbing your phone. Sure enough there was a message that a “RK800” unit was attempting to sync to your device.

[ allow synchronization? y/n? ]

You clicked yes and watched as the phone took on a mind of its own, files opening and flipping at rapid speed until it settled upon your digital library. You set the phone down carefully, eyes flicking between Connor and the device. He had that same far away look Josh got when accessing the web. It took only a few seconds before your phone flashed the words the same time Connor spoke them,

“Upload completed. Thank you, reading these should be very…” he paused, “Fun.”

“And I thought I needed to get out more.” you said, enjoying the bright look of wonder on Connor’s face as his eyes flickered back and forth, clearly already browsing the new selection.

“It doesn’t bother you, does it?” he said, tilting his head, “I should have clarified if you meant to send them now.”

“It’s definitely gonna take some getting use to if you make a habit of connecting to my phone, but nah, it doesn’t bother me.” you said, but Connor still looked skeptical so you continued,  “I’m a little jealous to be honest, woulda made reading those bricks easier if I knew you three years ago.”

“It is very efficient. However, no more so than any other academic assistant android you could have purchased then.”

You felt a twist in your chest at the way he said “purchased” so easily when you could tell by the faint grimace on his face that the idea was as disturbing now to him as a “deviant” as it was to you.

“I meant like a classmate,” you quickly added, “Like the way we are now.”

“You study urban planning, not philosophy. Perhaps I should browse those texts as well so we can have more “classmate” simulate conversations.” he said, tilting his head to the other side as if considering the idea further.

“We can always talk about you.” you said, “What do you like?”

His head tilted slightly further, he almost looked like a puppy when he did that, brown eyes soft and always, always curious.

“I enjoy solving cases with Hank-- Lieutenant Anderson. I enjoy calibrating my reflex drive with coin tricks. I like talking with--”

You held up a hand, “Whoa whoa, back up! Coin tricks?!”

Your sudden enthusiasm seemed to take him off guard, but within a moment he produced a quarter from his pocket. He let it slowly walk across his knuckles one way and then faster backwards. You watched, rapt in attention and smiling bright.

“What else?!” you asked and Connor gave a lopsided smile, standing up.

“I need a bit more room for this one. Okay. So-- first you flip.” he said and did so, flipping the coin up once in the air, “And then--”

He flicked it so fast from one hand directly into the other that you almost missed it. Your entire face broke open, “Ooooohh my god! Do that again!”

He was more than happy to oblige, this time flicking the coin back rapidly and then ending by catching it between two fingers.

“Okay you have got to teach that one to me.”

“I’m not sure if you’d be able to get it without a lot of practice, but-- here.” he took your hand in his, carefully directing you to hold your fingers in a scissor shape the way he had. His eyes were intensely focused as he moved you exactly where he needed, carefully stepping behind you and placing his hands on your hips.

“Stand a bit more grounded.”

He nudged your shoe with his and you complied, hoping he wasn’t registering the heat rising up in your face. Was he holding on just a bit longer than was really even needed? A bit tighter? You could just barely feel the brush of his shirt at your back, leaning towards it.

“Don’t move.” he said, a soft command. You stood back up straight.

He came around to stand at your side, not even noticing the small gathering of people who were now watching the pair of you.

“Alright. Ready?”

You nodded.

“Just... hold… still.”

He paused, LED whirling for a moment before he flicked the coin and it found itself, trapped perfectly between your index and middle finger. You all but squealed, laughing with unbridled delight.

“That was so freakin’ cool! Can we do it again?”

But before Connor could take the coin from you, a man pushed over to the sitting area and scowled.

“Hey. No fuckin’ tin-can’s. Did you not see the sign lady?”

You were caught off guard, but Connor immediately straightened.

“Sign? There aren’t anymore signs.” you said, remembering that there was no tell tale red sign with a blue triangle issuing that androids were not allowed when you entered.

“There should be. There was. Now we gotta deal with these plastic freaks acting like they own the damn city.”

He looked Connor up and down with measured disgust, eyes lingering on the LED that was quickly flashing yellow.

“You should keep your pet at home.” the man continued, “You don’t see people bringing their dogs where others eat.”

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to please return to your table.” Connor’s voice was more mechanical than you had heard it before, measured and even, despite the yellow light flickering.

“I detect levels of ethanol on your breath. A bit early for a nightcap, isn’t it?” Connor continued and the man’s expression switched quickly to shocked and then pissed.

“Keep your fuckin’ eyes off me, freak.” he said, shoving Connor, who did not even move a fraction. “Public intoxication is a misdemeanor under Section 750.168 of the Michigan penal code. I advise you take your coffee home, sir, and sober up .” Connor said, standing up way too far into this guy’s space to be mistaken for anything but an invitation that said, Hit me, do it. I dare you.

You moved forward, quickly slipping your arm between the two men, curling it around Connor’s abdomen. You slid your entire body between them, the asshole guy stepping back.

“Hey, he’s a cop . See?” you pushed aside Connor’s jacket, displaying the DPD badge on his hip.

“You wanna add assaulting an officer to that rap sheet he’s already typing up from his head?”

The guy noted the badge and despite his initial aggression, he took a step back.

“Whatever, bitch.”

You sighed, relieved he was backing off, until Connor lurched forward from behind you. You spun around, pushing your palms flat against his chest. He didn’t resist you, but he didn’t take his eyes off the guy either.

“Apologize to her.” he said, each word punctuated with rigid coldness, LED flashing red.

“Fuck you and your plastic-fuckin’ girlfriend.”

“Hey!” a voice drew all three of your attention up to a barista wearing a different uniform than the others, designating her a manager, “How about you all take a breather somewhere else before I call the real cops?”

“Fine.” you said, pushing back at Connor who had stepped forward again trying to outmaneuver you.

“It’s a nice sunny day and I’m not a fan of the smell of shit and espresso.” you said, giving the guy a glare of your own. You took Connor’s hand, ignoring any comments from anyone else as you headed out the door. Connor didn’t fight you, but walked briskly away from the coffee shop to the point it was now like he was leading you.

His grip was tight, unrelenting. His LED was still a vivid circle of red. Once you were far enough away, you dug your heels in and released his hand. He stopped, but still held on. He snapped his eyes to yours, looking confused and just so-- lost. Like he wasn’t even sure where he was or where he was going.

You didn’t even know where to start.

“… Connor, I am so sorry.”

What else could you say? You were the stupid one who invited him there. His brows furrowed tightly, anger still twitching in his lips as he shook his head.

“Don’t.” he said, voice strained, “Don’t apologize for them .”

His jaw was tight, working and unclenching. He was rubbing your hand in his own, a tick similar to his coin. People walked around you as you both were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, giving Connor nervous glances as they passed. He noticed finally and stepped to the side, filing into an empty alley facing the street.

“I need a minute.” he said, his pulmonary functions attempting to slow. You stepped closer, reaching up to gently touch his back. You stroked up once.

“Of course, just… take all the time you need.”

He was tense, every carbon fiber cord in his body ready to respond, to act. His LED began flickering, slowly turning yellow and holding.

“It’s becoming more common.” he said, disappointment evident in his voice.

“I’d say it was always common, people feeling safe to express their stupidity has just gotten worse.”

“Not that.” he said, sighing, “My… temper. Hank says I have a temper .”

A deviant android with a quick fuse, that wasn’t entirely unheard of, but yet Connor seemed disturbed more so by his own behavior than the other guys.

“I detected a significant jump in your pulse and breathing rate. You were upset. I upset you.” Connor said, going to release your hand. You snapped it back up before he could, squeezing tight.

“Connor. Look at me.”

He did.

“I wasn’t upset because of you, I was upset for you.” you said, searching his eyes, making sure you confirmed his understanding before you continued, “That guy was being a grade A dickhead and I… I made you show me those tricks and it just drew all that attention to you. It’s dumb and it’s unfair , but I should have known better.”

“I wanted to show you.” Connor said, insistent, “I knew it would make you smile. I… like that. When you were asking what I like. I like receiving positive feedback from you. It’s very informative.”

That got a laugh from you, quiet and resigned.

“Like that. I don’t know how I got you to do that, but I’m attempting to work it out. So far the data has been inconsistent.”

“Really?” you said, “How so?”

“You laugh even when I am actually not trying to be humorous.” Connor said, as if you were a bit silly for not knowing.

“You’re a funny guy.”

“Hank would say otherwise.”

Connor’s LED had returned to blue, holding steady.

“Your temperature is dropping. You should be getting home so you can warm up.”

“No.” you said, grinning. This time when he furrowed his brow it was not as sharp.

“Your current core temperature is not a debatable subject, ---. You are at 97.9 degrees.”

You hummed, “So question. When you do that, are you scanning my entire body or just the surface temperature?”

Connor opened his mouth, thought better, and then it closed it. You swore if he could blush he would be. You inclined your head expectantly.

“What else does the scan pick up?” you asked, both curious and enjoying the look of semi-panic rushing over Connor’s features. The blue LED flickered just for a moment.

“I know that you have not eaten in the last four hours and will begin to feel hunger pains in approximately the next twenty to thirty minutes.” he stated matter-of-factly, “You have a healed fracture on your left ankle, most likely from rolling it sometime within the last two years. Also, your pupils dilate when you look at me, indicating that you find me aesthetically pleasing.”

“Ho-kay.” you said, interrupting him and snatching your hand back, “You had me at the beginning there, I’ll admit.”

“Did I successfully embarrass you, ---?” Connor said, putting his hands into his pockets and following after you with a renewed smugness.

“Um. That’s such cheating. I can’t control my pupils!”

“Of course. I understand it is not conscious. Besides. I was designed to be pleasing .”

“Yeah? Then I’m gonna need you to tell me where to file a product complaint.”

Connor laughed and it sounded so human it infected your own smile.

“”Hello, yes Cyberlife?”, you continued, using your hand to mimic a phone, “”Do you take constructive criticism? Because your RK800 model is becoming a royal pain in my ass.””

“I’ve never had a bad review in my life!” he asserted, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense.

“That’s because you’ve only been alive for seven months! God. You’re an infant. I am literally on a date with an infant.”

Your laughter subsided when you noted Connor was no longer part of the chorus, turning to look at him, you found his own eyes trailed on you with the barest of smiles.

“This has been… different. Good, but different.” he said, choosing the words carefully, “I’d like to do it again.”

“Yeah, yeah, you smug bastard. You probably already know I’m going to say “yes” by the micro expressions of my eyebrows or some crap.”

Your joke was cut short as Connor stepped forward, gingerly reaching up and letting his hand trace the side of your face, thumb rubbing in gentle circles for a moment over the spot right next to your brow. His eyes were hooded, intent.

“No. I don’t think I see anything.”

He was so close-- god damn him for being so close. You couldn’t read his face at all on whether he was being serious right now or was being a tease. The LED light on his temple gave nothing away in it’s blue aura.

“Wait...right there.”

You felt your breath catch.

“I detect the forming of premature wrinkles.”

“Oh, you asshole. ”

You swatted at him, but he was too fast, dodging out of range with a school boy grin.

“I’m freezing and I’m hungry and I think you need to go home and think about what you’ve done.” you said, crossing your arms against the frigid breeze.

“I told you all of those things a minute ago.” Connor said, returning to arms reach long enough to offer his hand in what you assumed was to be a handshake. You scoffed and submitted, letting him take your hand again lightly. He squeezed and let go.

“I’ll text you later.” he said, mirroring your own words. For a moment it almost felt so normal. Just a boy and a girl on a date. It hadn’t turned out to be what you expected, but that was something you were beginning to think you could live with.

“You better.”

When had it become so hard to concentrate? You rapt your stylus against your desk, oblivious to the crowd and the constant hum of conversation as people moved around the facility. You hadn’t heard back anything from Josh regarding the files you brought, in fact, you hadn’t seen an android inside the DCRU office in several days. You leaned back in your chair, hoping to catch a glimpse but instead found yourself looking right into the pencil skirt of London Fog-- aka your supervisor, Miranda.

“You interested in getting out of here?” she asked, curly brown hair tied back in a bun. You think she must been a librarian in a past life based on how she dressed. Nothing else would explain those cat eye glasses.

“Depends.” you said, voice wary. She laughed, because honestly you didn’t have too much choice in it.

“We’re doing a quick run through. We’ve gotten reports that there have been some break ins through the fence perimeter around the--” she stopped, trying to avoid the word “camp” like most people in charge. It was not a good connection to form.

“-- housing facilities. Just need to assess the damage and estimate cost. The androids asked specifically for the director to come, but she is busy elsewhere.” Miranda shrugged, “If I have an intern following me, I look more important!”

Ah, the director. Cinnamon dolce.

Knowing that there was not much more discussion to be had, you picked up your tablet and your coat.

“Where’s the damage?” you asked, voice weary.

“We’ve got a ride to the other side of the facility all lined up for us.” Miranda said, flicking through some documents and sending them to your tablet.

“It’ll be a good learning opportunity!”

Sure. Yay. Fence maintenance.

By the time you arrived it became very obvious that this was not some accidental damage or wear-and-tear, this was a full on someone-took-pliers-to-the-fence-and-cut-a-hole damage. You recognized Josh out of the crowd of humans and androids. He gave you a faint smile and then turned his attention to Miranda.

“Was it a break out?” she asked, earning a narrow look from Josh.

“We’re not prisoners here. Everyone knows they can come and go as they please.” Josh said, voice edged with warning.

“So break in?” Miranda said, confirming to herself. You flipped to the incident report she sent to your tablet and began to jot down notes.

“It would appear so. But nothing was taken. No one has seen anyone strange around the homes either.”

The “homes” for lack of a better word, were simple modular buildings, stacked in sets of three with outside stair railings. A few androids stood on said stairs, peering over the side down at them. The entire facility sat in an old parking lot formerly used by GM back in the late 2000s. It had been sitting vacant for years now and taken by the government for use in the re-homing process.

The modular homes were efficient, if not always “cozy”. The androids were able to file comfort requests, but you’d seen the stacks. It was hard to imagine it was easy to get much of anything, but it was safe . Safer than outside, where humans might attack an android on the street. Here there were soldiers and fences that were meant to keep the outside world out, not them in.

Markus would have not accepted anything less.

“I don’t like that. Have the military units informed to be looking for someone who doesn’t belong and pull any CCTV footage from this area.” Miranda said, stepping forward and examining the fence more closely.

“Tracks say three people!” a voice yelled from above. There was a young looking blond man, standing at the very top of the modular complex. He quickly made his way down, easily constructing a safe path to the ground.

Josh smiled with familiarity, taking the hand offered to him by the man warmly.

“When did you get back into the city?”

“A few days ago. Glad to be back though. D.C. is somehow even colder.”

Miranda turned her attention back towards the two men, greeting the newcomer with nothing more than a faint nod.

“Simon. You said three people?”

Simon nodded, pointing to a variety of spots that now showed traces of mud and slush disturbance.

“Three. They circled in, came this way…”

He moved ahead, heading behind the modular unit. There was a good fifteen feet between it’s back and the fence.

“Then this way. Stopped here, but then one set of tracks keeps going while the other two circle back.” Simon’s eyes narrowed, giving Josh a strange look.

“Something isn’t right. I smell--”

A flash. Blinding and loud. So loud that suddenly your ears were filled with unbearable ringing. You felt your feet lift from the ground, heat bursting across your skin. There were quick flicks of pain, as if a hail storm had pelted you. And then you found the ground again, hitting hard to the concrete as the ringing just kept on. Something heavy fell on your chest, knocking the wind from you.

Your vision blurred, arms shaking as you tried to find something, anything to hold onto to make the world stop spinning. Someone was ontop of you, arms curled around your frame. The smell of thirium and smoke was thick in your nostrils and when your vision came to, there was blue andJosh.

All cradled in a backdrop of red flames.

[destiny-smasher]

Off the Hook

(copied from my Twitter thread here) So, yea! @SplatoonNA 2 has ended its run of content! A solid two year run! At this point it's possible I've played it as much as I played the original game, maybe even a bit more. But compared to a lot of people I've known since it's release, I'm definitely more of a casual fan. It's a fun game oozing with aesthetic and has one of the most solid gameplay foundations I've ever seen -- EVERYTHING about the game's mechanics culminates into a multi-layered experience where single, co-op, AND versus are designed to facilitate fresh shooting gameplay. EVERY single second of playing Splatoon multiplayer entails making choices. The story/Octo exp. have so many great level designs. Multiplayer and its ranked modes require different strategies. Salmon Run is THE most hardcore co-op I've ever seen. It's such wonderful game design. With that being said, now that #FInalFest #Splatpocalypse is over and the 2nd #Splatfest cycle has come to a close, I want to talk a bit about the single most important aspect that has impacted my life regarding the game: #OfftheHook

Rewind back to when these two were first introduced: I was unconvinced that I would enjoy or care about them as much as the Squid Sisters (who are actually, like, cousins? I think? nvmd) But two years later and these two warm my heart in a way VERY few fictional duos do. What's most interesting to me about this is that while there IS a decent amount of in-game banter between the pair over the course of the past two years, they have SO MUCH less actual character development/narrative than other couples (they are a couple don't at me)

Honestly, a lot of my affection for them has grown from the way the in-game presentation leaves enough context for us to read inbetween the lines regarding how well they know each other, how much they care about each other, how much they respect each other despite competitions. Seeing their interactions both before and after the #FinalFest, brief as they were, really solidified how these two VERY opposite personalities have had a positive influence on each other, even if we haven't necessarily witnessed it firsthand. I think this is part of what makes them so valuable in the mainstream (?) media -- they are a power couple who is ALREADY happy, proud, living their best lives for and with one another. In the current climate of the world, that's inspiring to see, whether you're 15 or 33. We still don't know much on the details of their backstories but we definitely know that Marine comes from a very bad place and Hime comes from a very privileged one, and their relationship seems to have helped them both grow into better people. Everything about their designs, their personalities, their CONCEPT as a BAND and how they function/perform their roles within it, everything about them embraces that sort of "opposites attract" aesthetic and I am all about it. While Callie and Marie are cute and great and I like them, I ADORE Pearl and Marina, because they went the extra mile to not only flesh them out as characters but ensure everything about their presentations, personalities, etc. embraces that "opposites attract" concept. 'well cool that's great and inspiring but yea lots of things do this so whatevs' Yea, you're right, but lots of media do not do this while also basing their entire core visual, gameplay, audio design SPECIFICALLY AROUND two sides battling against each other. EVERYTHING about Splatoon is about ___ vs ___ From the hosts welcoming you when you boot up the game, to the different modes you play, to the way everything is presented, to the AUDIO stylings of Off the Hook, to the core concept of the Splatfests themselves. And at the end of the day, it is fucking NICE to see the end result of ALL OF THIS ___ vs ___ be embodied by two characters who represent that who LOVE EACH OTHER no matter what and who make each other better because of those differences and not despite them. Yea, the Squid Sisters did this but to such a simpler, more surface level degree. They were the beta. Off the Hook is the fully realized version of it. If you don't believe me just LISTEN to Squid Sister songs versus Off the Hook. LOOK at the character designs. Read the dialogue. The fact that Off the Hook has hosted actual real life concerts - IN THE REAL WORLD - isn't just some indication of "people be horny for pop idols" (I mean that IS a thing, separate discussion I ain't educated enough on to get into), it's because they KNOW they have a good thing

Splatoon isn't just for kids, it's also for adults who are nostalgic for the aesthetic of BEING a kid, and the fact that Hime (20) and Marine (18) are young adults -- INBETWEEN kids and adults -- cannot be a fucking mistake, either. Anyway, this is all to say, I am so impressed in a way I rarely am in that the Squid Research Lab was able to take the mechanical design philosophy of Splatoon 1 and EXPAND upon it, fucking OWN IT 100%, make sure that everything about Splatoon 2 embodied the concept. Green versus Pink, Pink versus Blue, Gold versus Silver, Ketchup versus Mayo, Chaos versus Order, we can have fun arguing over the most mundane preferences or the most basic, broad-sweeping aspects of existence, but at the end of the day we CAN be better for it. We CAN be made better, we CAN grow, not despite those differences but BECAUSE we hash them out, because we argue, make our cases, see the other side's passion, etc etc. It's my favorite message/theme any piece of media can discuss and Splatoon 2 causes such an emotional reaction from me because the CRAFT of it is so passionately detailed and embraces this theme in every. fucking. layer. of itself. So yea, #Pearlina is a goddessdamn inspiration to me that I will probably carry with me for a very long time, and Splatoon as a franchise is so fucking impressive for how young it is. I hope the years to come incite as much warm fuzzies as other long-time Nintendo series have. The fact that the final artwork we got shows the pair swapping the iconic components of their attire -- their headgear -- is just such a beautiful and fitting sendoff that wraps a lovely bow on the whole thing. As far as I'm concerned, they are now engaged, will happily wed.

[loftyloftyloftyloftylofty]

Another Glimpse: Cat Story’s World Map Design Philosophy

Hey friends,

Taking an opportunity today while I am on vacation from work to provide some long-overdue updates on progress!

I started working on Cat Story on Halloween of 2014. We’re rapidly approaching the five year anniversary of starting this project.

For five years of working on this game, I’ve certainly got a lot to show for it! With that said, it’s still very easy to think about the ways I spend my time and feel like I’m not working hard enough.

I’d like to share some spoilery stuff today to help put into perspective where I’m at, what I’ve got left to do, and what the plan is going forward to complete this project, with a focus on the world map and how different segments of it represent different milestones, and why those segments are arranged the way they are.

Adding a ‘Keep reading’ link here just in case folks want to avoid spoilers!

Let’s start with the world map’s layout:

Tumblr isn’t good for displaying large images so here’s a direct link.

The game begins in Tilmi, which is the small square in the mid-left region of the map. The first chapter of the story takes the player through Digsite 56, into the Aquifer, through Blue Caverns and the Thoroughfare to the ALIAS complex.

As the scope of Cat Story has changed over time, the map has definitely evolved. Originally the entire game was going to take place on a single island!

Ever since I decided on an underground setting though, a few core concepts have persisted in the map’s design iterations that I feel are very important to the genre of game I’m making, and I think it’s useful to explain what those are and why I think they’ll be good for Cat Story. The first concept I want to talk about that’s stuck with the map for awhile is the Thoroughfare, but to explain why it exists, I need to explain some stuff about what I look for in video games and where I’ve drawn some of these ideas from.

I like going back to experience games again after awhile. I  use wallpaper engine to set up wallpaper videos from my favorite games to ‘keep an eye’ on the game worlds I enjoyed. It’s like a security camera system that averts my feelings of homesickness for the places that made strong impressions on me. Call me crazy if you like, but it’s really, really hard for me to ‘leave’ these worlds behind. 

(I still occasionally open up OneShot to check on Niko despite the fact that nothing happens.)

One of the games that I’ve taken a lot of inspiration from (especially for finding a good pace to increase difficulty) is Axiom Verge. AV’s map is designed in a way that getting from point A to point B can be really rough and tedious - part of the game’s challenge is navigating the rough terrain and the uncompromising, unforgivng atmosphere that broods over that challenge adds a lot of charm to the environment. The downside to this though is that it takes a lot of willpower to backtrack through each area and collect hidden stuff, and as much as I adore Axiom Verge, I have a really hard time picking it up again because I know that going back to explore and re-immerse isn’t going to be a casual stroll- the mazelike tunnels and hazards keep you on your toes the whole time.

In similar vein, Hyper Light Drifter has an absolutely breathtaking environment that I adore, but going back to re-immerse and take it all back in is a journey. 

In contrast, anyone can jump back into a game like FEZ after several years’ break without fear of meeting heavy resistance - the downside to this is that FEZ’ design is definitely about getting that 100% completion and once you’ve accomplished that, there’s not much to find or do on your current save, so that re-immersion is easy but feels incomplete unless you start a new playthrough.

Ori hit a pretty solid stride between these two extremes, offering a variety of areas with different levels of difficulty and fast travel options to get you to where you want to be, which means that going back to appreciate Ori’s super-beautiful art and scenery is readily accessible. What I don’t like about this though is that any form of teleportation or fast travel results in making a huge world feel small, and despite having teleports available, every time I go back to Ori, I make a point of walking from point A to point B because I feel that it would be doing the game world an injustice to just scoot directly to my destination instead of actually experiencing the environment.

I’d like to also take a brief moment to mention Hollow Knight, which designed a map that has fast travel and still feels exquisitely huge. I learned so much from playing that game and every time I revisit it, it’s an excellent time. HK has also been a huge inspiration for me in the way I design stuff and I hope that learning from each of these games will help me make an awesome game, too.

So, with all of this in mind, I’ve tried to design Cat Story’s map around the idea of having a common artery that connects most of the game’s main areas - so that when someone jumps back into the game after having not played for awhile, they can get to that area they wanted to revisit quickly; and that has manifested itself in the form of an abandoned service tunnel linking a bunch of the different themed spaces together. 

As the player progresses through the game, they unlock new sections of the Thoroughfare which allow them to explore new areas (or in some cases, revisit old ones). Some (not all) sections of the Thoroughfare also have the ability to get the player quickly from one end to the other (similar to Hollow Knight’s tram). My hope is that by balancing the design of the areas in relation to each other against the effort required to actually navigate each space, I can create a map that’s easy to come back to if I decide to, for example, add DLC later down the road.

I don’t plan on implementing a fast travel system in this game, and I understand that what that means for the map design is that the map must allow the player to move quickly - I want to try to hit a balance between scenic route and speedrun-friendly. I’ve been making a point to include shortcuts to skip gaps or run-arounds for savvy players, and I’ve taken several tips from the book of Guacamelee in terms of unlocking those shortcuts after completing small sections of each area. 

Still with me? Rad.  Let’s talk about how each section of the map relates to project progress.

A quick glance at the map overview for Cat Story makes it pretty clear that the scope of this game’s world map is enormous.

To help put that statement in perspective, I’ve made one of the arrows red on that map overview. See it? The red one?

That’s this. (Warning: Image is ~12000 x ~3000 lol)

Now, to be fair, I built this world map knowing that it would be a ton of work. I signed up for this and not only have I committed to the idea, but I’ve embraced it as what will be - so far in my life - my greatest creative achievement.

It’s hard to put a percent value on each map in terms of how it relates to the completion of the game. Taking into account the nuances of scripting events, writing story dialog, refining art styles, iterating on terrain, adding collectibles, finding the right enemies to make a map challenging, playtesting, and a host of other tasks associated with each segment of the game, it begins to become apparent that we need a better way to measure progress.

So, where are we at?

A lot of these maps have been loosely-concepted. That means I have a general idea of what the theme will be for each space and what challenge I want to be thematic in navigating it.

As an example, the Blue Caverns will have a heavy focus on waterfalls, large bodies of water, and jumping on suspended blocks. Trestletop will have a heavy focus on mushroom caps hanging from the ceiling - a concept which earlier beta maps have already explored with great success.

The next step in the workflow for each of these maps is nailing down the aesthetic and tying it in with the navigation involved in the area. 

I can not stress enough that the way you move through an area in a game like this is the prime factor that I am considering when designing the aesthetic for it. Movement is critical in Cat Story and I am doing my best to design every enemy, jump, tunnel, and theme around the central idea of how you navigate through or around. 

My current focus is the stretch of the game’s first chapter from Digsite 56 to Blue Caverns. I’m very happy with 56′s look so far and expect to have the transition maps between Tilmi and 56 hermetically sealed before September’s Patreon demo releases.

In the meantime, I’m gonna’ get back to work. 

This post went on a lot longer than I thought it would! I’ll probably add to this later in a followup post because there’s an awful lot that I’d like to talk about, but if I spend all day blablabla’ing on Tumblr instead of working, nothing will get done.

Cheers everybody, thanks for reading

[sunshinexlollipops]

Maybe it's just me, but I think Arthur would have been waaaaay more suitable and capable of leading the gang instead of Dutch. Arthur knows what's best for the gang, isn't selfish and didn't let Micah manipulate him, and is generally more good hearted than Dutch imo. Sorry for rambling, but I needed to share this and you understand Arthur so well 🙈

Oh, I totally share the same sentiment, anon. As for rambling, don't worry!

I'm about to do so myself, so rest assured you're alright!

I hope you're prepared, because I'mma 'bout to psychoanalyze the heck outta these two cowpokes.

Be warned: some feels lie ahead, alongside possible spoilers!

So, Arthur would've, without a doubt, made a better leader to the gang than Dutch.

One of the biggest differences between them is that Dutch is a self-driven man with no interest but his own driving him, and that he is willing to do whatever it takes to appease himself. 

For Dutch, he believes that everything he does is for the greater good, that he has a right to do what he goes forward with. He claims that his choices are that to an animal just trying to survive— that he is a patriot of sorts because he is willing to deny the confines of "law" and "government" to craft his own future and destiny. 

His refusal to comply with society is something he believes he should be idolized for, and he is consistently declaring that he is above those who follow into it blindly. He is "smarter," more aware than those who so willingly give up their freedom, as he sees it. The life on an outlaw for him is a statement and his identity, and he builds everything, especially his philosophies, upon that. 

His philosophy for it is one of only black or white— of direct right or wrong. 

There is no gray area with Dutch, as he includes it into just these two categories. He gives his crooked moral compass a wide berth, as what was once in that gray area is now given the leisure to be given a loose label of righteousness. 

This lack of moral specification makes Dutch as dangerous and twisted as he is, as he often will excuse actions or words that others abhor or find to be wrong. His insouciance is intended, as it is his go-to defense for writing off the callousness that begins to grow within him.

His ideation of being a sole rebel, of rejecting society and its supposed control has Dutch warped into the idea that he is a messiah, much like Agent Milton accuses him of being. 

Many have compared to how he runs the gang and treats its members to the likes of a cult— and it's true. The manipulation, brainwashing, guilt-tripping— he tries to keep everyone under his thumb, and where he wants them. Dutch only wants complete and utter faith, that those who follow him do so blindly and lose their conscience as they assume the man uses his. If you doubt him in any capacity, you're just as evil as what he detests. You are an enemy like everyone else who opposes him. 

Because Dutch is insane, to the very definition. It is not simply his descent into madness and corruption, but rather his belief that the life of an outlaw is one that can still work despite everything pointing to the opposite. I believe that, after years of failure after failure, of barely making it out of his own messes alive and finding it harder and harder to make ends meet, Dutch was driven to a breaking point as his deluded dreams were never realized. 

The lack of being sated soured the man to the point where he disillusions himself into believing that they can still continue on as they are, that all they need is "one more score." He could never walk away from this life— could never admit defeat or conform in any way, as he became so attached to his identity as an outlaw, and the pariah of his gang.

As for Arthur, he would've been drastically different had he taken on the helm as leader.

One of the bigger differences is that Arthur has always remained true to his own word, and that he is the most selfless out of the gang.

For Arthur, he constantly wages things on his conscience, wondering if he is making the right choices with both what he believes in, and what he knows is right. 

Much like Dutch, he is set in black and white, but for Arthur, he will ponder where his star lies once or before he hitches it. 

There is a constant weighing on a scale of personal reflection, and Arthur holds himself accountable and admits when he is wrong. Not once during the game did Arthur make a choice and not think about it in some way and wonder if it was the right one. He is not one for urges, or to not review over what he is doing or has done, and how he can do better in the future. His morals are what drive him, and he will stick to them, even if it means taking the harder route or having it cost himself something dear.

Which, Arthur has sacrificed so much for the gang.

Apart from being the spine of it all, Arthur has proved time and time again that he is the most loyal of all, and that he will always put the gang and its members first.

He could've had a family twice, but his decision to stick by Dutch's side cost him his engagement to Mary, and possibly saving Isaac and Eliza had he been there for them like he wanted. 

He could've earned the freedom and second chance he longed for when he was offered it by Milton in exchange for Dutch, but Arthur remained true and refused all of Milton's attempts even when he was doubting and clashing with Dutch. 

He also almost died multiple times during the game — from nearly being shot before Eagle Falls saved him, or being captured and tortured by the O'Driscolls for days without rescue or even being searched for — all of which were times made of Dutch's own design and refusal to come to his aid.

He even gave up his SECOND chance to be with Mary to make sure those he cared about were taken care of before the Saint Denis robbery. He intended to take his cut and leave afterward, but because of everything going completely wrong, as predicted by many in the gang, he ended up shipwrecked on Guarma, and lost the last chance to be with the woman he loved.

Dutch would not have considered half of what Arthur has done and given up for the gang, and it shows by just how far Arthur is broken and haggard by the time we pick up the controller.

His doubts of Dutch have been growing for some time— before the failed robbery in Blackwater. At what point his doubts truly began to manifest isn't given to us, but I believe it's something that has been happening for quite a while. Maybe even when Arthur was younger, but didn't want to admit that the man who saved him and gave him a better shot a life than that of a street orphan was less than stellar.

But Arthur comes across as obtuse— and as other gang members point out, he prefers to do so by "playing dumb." I feel like this is part of his denial of the situation, that not thinking is better than admitting that Dutch was rotting from the core and their lives were falling apart. It was easier, simpler. 

He could just pretend that he didn't understand the world and its situations when its obvious from his journal alone that in reality, he is just as smart or even smarter than Dutch. I would say more than likely one of the smartest men in the gang, if he actually applied to and allowed himself to do such a thing. It's more than likely why Arthur feels as guilty as he does for letting Dutch take the reigns as he did for so long— that he knew better, but feigned ignorance.

If it came down to it, I know that he would've been able to handle stepping up and becoming the leader, as he has 20+ years of experience under his belt, and the plans and busts that he overlooks and plans usually go very smoothly and tend to do the best. 

He isn't dumb as he purposefully tries to appear, and even then his unassuming nature plays out to his benefit in a lot of situations. He easily could've taken control of the gang and lead them to a much better conclusion than the one Dutch crashed them into.

I believe that Arthur would've kept a lot of what happened from becoming reality. I know for a fact that he never would've trusted Micah or let him into the gang, and I doubt that he would've allowed a lot of various behaviors from him if he did. Otherwise, he would've made different choices, and a lot that Micah and Dutch pushed for would've been left in the suggestive instead of becoming part of their story. 

Arthur also would've also tried to settle the gang, unlike Dutch, and there's not a doubt in my mind that Arthur would've gotten them their plot of land to live the rest of their lives on in peace.

Which brings me to the key difference between them: Arthur would know that it was time to quit.

His own desire aside, a lot of the gang wanted out. Even as far as Hosea. They all realized that their way of "life" wasn't working anymore. That the days of the outlaws and Wild West were numbered, and already dwindling fast. A lot of them weren't happy, and they longed for something different — something more — and unlike Dutch, they knew that robbing and stealing wasn't the way they could go about it anymore. 

He also would've seen the fissure in the gang from the others that wanted to continue, and he wouldn't have let it separate them as it did.

As for Bill, Dutch, and Micah— Arthur would've let them split off and continue on as they were, living and to die as savagely as Milton said, as that was their choice. 

As for Javier, I feel like he would be conflicted. He would more than likely side with Dutch as he did in the game simply because of his want for a revolution, but there is a slight chance that I could see him joining up the others on a homestead if Arthur was able to make him see reason. After all, Javier is loyal to those who are just, and while he became infatuated with Dutch and the way the man functioned, if Arthur were leader, I could easily see some of Javier's loyalty falling to him from the stock he puts into being true and just alone.

Otherwise, Arthur would've taken whoever wanted to join him, and he would send the others on their way. They all could've chosen their ending — their destiny — and none of them would've been forced into any corners by Arthur.

As for Dutch, he was incapable. And that was his biggest flaw of all. The ending we saw was one constructed by his own decisions and lack of forethought, of his narcissism and egotistical confidence. 

He pushed the gang until it fractured as it did, shattering it into irreparable, mangled pieces.

Dutch's ignorance and refusal cost everyone everything, even their lives.

And, in a futile attempt to try and fix it all, it cost Arthur his.

[thequeerwitch]

First fanfic: Charlotte Russo: The Lost Angel of Empire Bay (Vito Scaletta x OC)  Introduction

Hey everyone, thanks so much for the support I’ve received with my transition to this blog. It’s time that I post my first fanfic to this blog. This story will follow a character from a fandom that’s not very well known, but deserves to be recognized, nonetheless. Vito Scaletta from Mafia 2 & 3. I played Mafia 3 first and absolutely fell in love with Vito, so I decided to play Mafia 2 as well. I can’t tell you which one I like better, I love them both equally. I highly recommend everyone who loves open world GTA-type games to play this game. It’s funny, action packed, emotional at times, and filled with plenty of colorful characters. Players be warned, however, that the game is rated M and deals with mature themes such as drug use, sex, cursing, violence, basically anything you’d expect from a GTA/Godfather mashup. Keep in mind that the fanfic will also be of a similar rating, though I will provide a trigger warning at the beginning of each chapter, as well as a word count and a general rating of each story. Alright, enough chit-chat. I’d like to introduce you to the OC of the evening: Charlotte Russo.

Charlotte Russo: Mafia 2

Charlotte Russo: The Blissful Angel 

Charlotte Russo: Mafia 3

Basic Stats:

Name: Charlotte Russo, “Big Tits” Charlie Alfonsi

Age: 19 (beginning), 42 (near the end)

Sex/Gender/Pronouns: Female, Woman, she/her

Race/Ethnicity: Italian

Fandom: Mafia

Background: Charlotte’s family emigrated from Sicily to Empire Bay in 1927 when her mother was pregnant with her.  Marco began working for Frank Vinci and built up a reasonable living. He planned to will his eldest daughter, Alessandra, the business, but she married and moved away as soon as she could. Charlotte became her father’s golden child, the one who would carry on the legacy and see the business out. When Charlotte was eighteen, her father was involved in a risky hit and was killed in the process. Don Frank Vinci severed ties with the family, but provided a certain amount of protection for them to survive off of until they got back on their feet. In the meantime, Charlotte scrambled to get a steady job and keep food on the table, electricity on in their tiny apartment, and a roof over their heads.

Appearance:

Figure/Eyes/Skin/Hair/Other: Charlotte has a thick, pair shaped figure with an average bust and full hips. She has tawny eyes, olive skin, and charcoal black hair with bangs across her forehead, full lips, a freckle on her cheek, and a scar cutting down the bridge of her nose.

Dress style: She typically dresses comfortably, but appropriate for her job. What that job is often varies from a dancer in a cathouse (lingerie) to running hits on the streets for her boss (jeans and a blouse).

Relationships:

Parents: Marco and Gianna Russo. Charlotte was always a daddy’s girl. She picked up much from her father including her strength, fighting skills, and her taste for fancy cigars. The death of her father tore Charlotte up, it was hard for her to think of much else for a while afterwards, but she was forced to keep moving to keep money coming in. Her mother isn’t exactly the same story. Charlotte picked up cooking and cleaning skills, many things that would make a good housewife, but she was never drawn to that path. She preferred the life of crime and action, like her father. Gianna didn’t take her husband’s death well. She started drinking to wash away the pain, but she wasn’t a happy drunk. When she was drunk, everything came out. Secrets, insults, truths that no one wants to hear, and a side of Gianni that she would be ashamed of sober. Charlotte’s relationship with Gianni was never great, they always fought over Charlotte’s future and wellbeing, which would drive a wedge between the two in their final years of communication.

Siblings: Alessandra Russo-Lombardi was ten years old when Charlotte was born. At the ripe, young age of 21, Alessandra married her high school sweetheart and moved far away from Empire Bay. She still maintains a good relationship with Charlotte, calling every couple of months to check in, but is mostly estranged from the rest of her family.

Love interest(s): Vito Scaletta, the mysterious man who saved her life and took her under his wing to show the ways of casual crime.

Friends: Margaret Young, a close friend and neighbor since Charlotte could remember. Their mothers were both stay at home moms, and her father owned a small bakery below Charlotte’s apartment. The two worked together between cathouses and department stores, and their bond often felt more like sisters than friends. Joe Barbaro was a friend of Vito who helped introduce Charlotte into the crime world. Matteo Ricci was a young man who Charlotte saves at some point in the story, and for her charity, Matteo sets out to repay her by giving back to the world in some way. Ronnie Espinoza, the only friend Charlotte has to depend on when she is at her lowest. More on him in the fic.

Enemies: Sidney “The Fat Man” Penn was an ex-boss of Charlotte, Lorenzo Alfonsi was Charlotte’s ex-husband from a loveless marriage, and Sal Marcano attempted to work with Charlotte under impossible terms and set out to have her killed when she didn’t agree to them. More on all of them in the story.

Sexuality and Romance:

Sexuality: Pansexual

Attraction: Charlotte was a butt person. She loved a nice, plump ass on men and women that she could pinch or smack during intercourse.

Experience: Charlotte experimented a little before finding Vito. She had a steady boyfriend for about a year before she found out he cheated on her, and a girlfriend who moved away and never contacted her again.

Skills and Work Life:

Skills: Charlotte learned how to take care of a house and a child from her mother, skills she retained her whole life. She learned how to defend herself and handle a knife from her father, and she learned how to drive and shoot a gun from Vito. Charlotte always had a knack for performance. She loved to sing, dance, and act both in public and private.

Hobbies: In her downtime, Charlotte loved to read, and secretly enjoyed to sew. She always wanted to be a seamstress as a child, a dream she secretly retained through her adult life.

Education: Charlotte had a middle school education, but was forced to drop out when her family couldn’t afford it anymore. She knows how to speak English and Italian.

Job: Dancer in a cathouse, made woman under Alberto Clemente, seamstress.

Personal:

Theme Songs: Troublemaker by Olly Murs, Bottom of the River by Delta Rae

Personality: Charlotte was a family girl, always taking steps to protect her team over herself. She liked to develop a first name basis with everyone she worked with to show a form of mutual respect. She was a tough cookie, but she managed to keep her emotions in check pretty well. It took a lot to break her, but when you do, be prepared. Her anger was scary, and her sadness usually results

Likes: Cars, clothes, jewelry, classic literature, jazz music, dancing

Dislikes: Not getting her way, cucumbers, liars, cheaters,

Philosophy:

Colors: Blue, purple, red, black

Beliefs/Spirituality: She grew up Catholic and retains general Christian beliefs, but she’s not a very good Christian. 

Fears: Death, dogs, wasps, knives, betrayal

Goals: To get out of Empire Bay, to survive in the mafia world, to become rich enough and settle down with Vito, other goals revealed in the fic.

Other

The titles of the chapters are lyrics from songs I associate with major scenes throughout the chapter. I’ll release the soundtrack after I finish the story as there will be some major spoilers within the soundtrack. 

Each chapter will be pretty long, around 6000 words each. 

I used this avatar creator to design them Charlotte’s avatars: http://www.azaleasdolls.com/dressupgames/1940s-fashion.php 

As Charlotte was present for many events from Mafia 2, the story is written as a documentary, titled “Charlotte Russo: The Lost Angel of Empire Bay.” I did this so I wouldn’t have to recap events from the game that just had Charlotte shoehorned in. Thus the story is split into different narrative styles. The narrative of the story will follow a similar structure as Mafia 3, told through flashbacks and interviews like a documentary. The formatting for each POV will look different, so I'll provide a key here to explain it.

Documentary narration

"Interviews" —Person's Name

Time period

Charlotte’s narration

The investigator of the documentary is going to be Jonathan Maguire from Mafia 3. I know he was only investigating the Lincoln Clay files, but I’m gonna level with you guys, I’m too lazy to make my own. :P 

Charlotte's narration