#wouldn't put in any less effort for the love of all that is music

[yakool-foolio]

Oh stars in reply to my previous post, I am now curious about personality and even music motifs that could work for those fusions. You gave me some incredible mental images for these silly bois.

Music man, at your service! I've given instrument motifs to Rain Code's cast before, so I'm excited to add on to the pile once again! Much like my Rain Code list, I'll link to random examples I found of the instruments to showcase them. I'll touch on personality and songs for each fusion as well!

Metatron - Instrument motifs are the 808 drum from Phoenix (he's just got that funky n fun modern sound to him, trust me on the vibe check) and the trumpet from Edgeworth (his character theme made this an easy decision). Since we're combining a former art major and a pompous prosecutor who's secretly a huge nerd, you bet Metatron dons the artsy and expressive side from both of them. He likes using big, complex words as often as possible, even if it means he ends up using them in the wrong context at times. A song for him would be Audacious by Franz Ferdinand (with the bonus of the lead singer Alex Kapranos being what I imagine Metatron's voice could sound like).

Eros - Instrument motifs are the acoustic guitar from Apollo (he inherits the motif from his dad for extra sadness) and the electric guitar from Klavier (no surprises here). He's loud and proud, utilizing his own Chords Of Steel as he sings his heart out whenever his emotions spike in intensity. However, he's also very clingy and will make any excuse to not be out on his own, even if it means hanging around bad company. A song for him would be Blitzkrieg Bop by Ramones, as it fits with his 'HEY PAY ATTENTION AND DANCE WITH ME' energy.

Yuki - Instrument motifs are the electric violin from Athena (her Spirit Of Justice objection theme sold me on this) and the piano from Shuichi (he and Kaede had a duet piano motif in my eyes). Yuki is the type who runs head-first into danger but soon after is wishing they could back out while they're already in the thick of it. They're also very empathetic; if no one's around for them, they'll be around for others. Highly Emotional People by Marina is a fitting song for them in this regard.

Tsukiyomi - Instrument motifs are the taiko drum from Ryunosuke (the Naruhodo/Wright family tree comprises of different types of percussion I know it in my heart n soul) and the handpan from Yuma (same as usual from my Rain Code list). Tsukiyomi is curious about anything and everything, always on a quest to learn all he can about the world. He may appear pitiful, but that's just a ruse to slip away from conflicts and get out of sight. My song choice for him is Peach by Future Islands because while it is my go-to song for protagonists going against all odds, it fits a fusion of these two even better.

Icarus - Instrument motifs are tambourine from Makoto (fits his 'simplistic but not to be underestimated' vibe) and the bass synth from Hajime (powerful presence even under layers of other instruments). Icarus struggles with a savior complex, believing he is the symbol of hope. Despite his urge to help as many people as possible, he doesn't want to draw too much attention to himself. A song for him would be Every Little Thing I Say I Do by Dayglow.

[istoleyoursk1n]

WAIT WAIT HERES ONE! All companions drunk off their asses in a karaoke session while Tav is the only sober one😭

•❅���──────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

Tav being sober while all the other companions are drunk off their asses in a karaoke session

(I LOVE YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS HELP HAHAHA)

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: ̗̀➛ ASTARION

Says he's only there for the drinks and to watch everyone else make a fool of themselves.

Ends up being part of the people who are being absolute fools of themselves.

He’s the type to say “oh I can’t siNg” only to grab the mic out of your hands and start balling out the lyrics of Bad Romance like it's nobody’s business.

He’s tame at first, enjoying himself as he watches the shitshow unfold but four drinks in and he’s already hoarding the microphone.

I like to think he somehow becomes better at singing the drunker he gets.

Accidentally hits high notes and he makes it everyone's problem.

Probably slapped someone by accident when they were trying to get the microphone back from his drunken ass.

He becomes far more expressive and loud the more he drinks which only makes it all the more fun to be honest.

Tried to have a sing-off with Wyll. Somehow ends up with Astarion threatening to bite him.

: ̗̀➛ GALE

Very confused.

He came here for bonding time with friends only to be surrounded by feral drunks.

He’s definitely not the one singing but Astarion kept giving him wine and he kept drinking and now he’s halfway into either drunk crying or drunk ranting.

He’s the type to start talking about his ex again once drunk.

Had a very informative conversation with the wall.

Fell asleep for about five seconds only to be woken up by the sound of loud screaming into the microphone wonderful singing.

He likes suggesting songs for the group to sing but he's not even including himself in said singing. The least he does is clap his hands.

Remember when I said he’d either drunk cry or drunk rant? Guess what, he’s doing both now and either Halsin or you are trying their damn best to support him.

Try to ask him what he's crying about and he wouldn't even know what the fuck he’s crying about. Proceeds to give you a long instructive speech about the importance of how one pronounces certain spells. (He accidentally activated said spell too).

: ̗̀➛ WYLL

He drank exactly one bottle of alcohol and called it quits. He’s practically as sober as you right now.

The most tame of the group by far but he hardly has any complaints about the chaos, he's having so much fun!

If Astarion isn't hoarding the microphone, he’s the one singing and he’s really good at it. This man can sing and he figured now would be the best time to finally show it.

He’s being as humble as he can but you can tell he’s putting in more effort than he should for a drunken karaoke party.

This man is literally singing each song as if he’s performing his own concert. Ten songs in and somehow his voice box still hasn't given out.

Started having a sing-off with Astarion and he could hardly take it seriously. He wasn’t even drunk but he kept laughing and when he laughs Astarion laughs and they both ended up becoming a mess.

He and Astarion were probably the ones bickering over who’d get to hold the microphone.

However, he always ends up giving the microphone to both because of his gentlemanly ways and this man can't say no to Astarion even if his life fucking depended on it.

HE SANG AN ENTIRE MUSICAL SOUNDTRACK.

: ̗̀➛ KARLACH

SCREAMING INTO THE MICROPHONE.

Don’t ever give her the damn microphone or pick any goddamn song less you want your ears to bleed.

She loves metal/rock songs way too much and she will death metal scream every single word as if she was being dragged back down to the pits of hell.

She’s drunk off her ass as well and it gets worse because she keeps finishing people’s left over drinks.

She’s so unbelievably hyper when she's drunk and in a festive mood that during the whole karaoke session, she broke the damn table.

She laughed so hard right after that for a moment she forgot to fucking breath.

She constantly has to stand up and move about or dance to the music because she just has so much energy in her right now. It's damn well impressive how she somehow never tires.

The thing is, her laugh is contagious so when she starts laughing someone else probably starts laughing as well and it all becomes an even bigger disaster.

Broke the doorknob on her way to head out and grab more drinks.

: ̗̀➛ LAE’ZEL

Didn't want to be there.

Everyone was so loud and obnoxious that it was honestly a tad bit annoying for her. She could have been doing something far more productive and instead-

Never mind that, now she's having a drinking contest with Shadowheart in the midst of all the screaming and singing.

Where did the shot glasses go?! Oh, its with her.

Suddenly, taking multiple shots of alcohol will help improve her tolerance to an array of different substances that may pose a threat to her bodily autonomy. That’s an excuse, she just doesn't want to seem unproductive.

Not the one singing at all but she keeps finishing the bottles before anyone else can even get a taste of them.

Surprisingly, she has a really high alcohol tolerance. She’d probably be 10 shots in and still appear as sober as you.

Though, please take the liquor away from her as soon as possible. When she actually gets drunk two things happen. She either becomes more aggressive than she ever was before or even worse, she becomes nicer.

Amidst it all, you may see a snicker or two come out of her, one that she’d be trying so hard to hide. Truth be told, she would have grown to love her chaotic bunch of weirdo friends and she wouldn't have regretted a thing.

: ̗̀➛ SHADOWHEART

Actually one of the people singing! When Astarion and Wyll aren't battling it out over the microphone of course.

Depending on her current mood, she's either going all out on Mitski songs or rocking it out with Karlach.

There is no damn way she went through the karaoke session without singing Washing Machine Heart.

Before she could sing another song, she was ever so quickly pulled into a drinking match with Lae’zel in which the winner was undetermined; because Karlach broke the damn table with the shot glasses on it.

There is no damn way she went through the karaoke session without singing Bring Me To Life, part 2.

When she gets really drunk she either becomes louder or eerily quiet.

She’ll just quietly sit in the corner and watch and sometimes it's just the creepiest thing ever.

But in the cases where she does get loud, she’s off laughing her ass off over the chaos unfolding right before her eyes. She would have been talking shit along with Astarion if it weren't for the fact that he was quite literally having a wrestling match with Wyll over the microphone.

Probably fell asleep after a while and somehow never woke up until the next day.

: ̗̀➛ HALSIN

Very confused 2.0.

He tries to refrain from drinking as much as possible because he knows just how embarrassing he becomes so he kind of just smiles and sits there during the first half.

Besides he really doesn't want to burden you with having to be the only sober person in the party.

The least he’d be doing is very subtly dancing to the beat. Do you know how dads would do those little awkward dances during parties? Exactly that.

Either you, Shadowheart, or Astarion coaxed him into finally drinking and things began to go downhill from there.

The thing is, when he drinks, he can drink a lot, it's just that he prefers not to. However, the real reason he can drink a lot is that he forgets to set a limit for himself especially when his mind is so scattered.

Became oddly clingy towards you in ways that you’d never expect. Suddenly he’s blurting out random things he feels about you and the others in the most wholesome way imaginable.

If it isn't you, he’s confessing his “”undying love”” to the first person he sees.

Stared at a plant for five minutes.

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[hacked-by-jake]

I'm sitting outside. It's slightly windy. Not much. Perfect amount for me. And it gives fresh and clear air. I have music. And my thoughts are circling about moonvale of course. So I just want to leave a couple of spontaneous words. Just letting out what I think and feel at the moment.

I'm sorry, Everbyte. I'm sorry for all the hate. And I'm sorry for the amount of people being disappointed in your work. Because, well, there's still this little sprikle of hope in me. Of hope and disbelief. I'm thinking about Duskwood and what you created with it. I'm thinking about all the love we felt through Duskwood. You could see the effort you put into it. We saw the improvements and amazing ideas. Good plots over and over again. New ideas every single time. The quality was already amazing, in my eyes. Sure, some little bugs here and there, but nothing huge. Nothing bothering.

But all this. All things we saw in Duskwood. It made us believe you care about the fans. It made us feel like you hear us, as you said once. It made us feel so happy because it looked as if you're really doing this game for us.

And this.. My brain refuses to believe you really just want our money. My brain refuses to believe that you did, what you did in Moonvale, on purpose. My brain wants to believe that you never meant to make us feel this way.

My brain wants to believe that it all made sense to you, and that there was nothing wrong with it, that it was harmless in your eyes. In your world.

And because my head wants to believe in the good, my heart hurts to see how much negativity you get. My heart hurts to see the hate. And the critism.

But sadly, even if it hurts, sadly it's necessary at the moment to share constructive feedback about it.

But even that must be incredibly stressful, because there are thousands, tens of thousands of people who are currently pointing their fingers at you. And that must be hard. Even horrible. Awful.

As I said, my brain refuses to believe all this only happened because you didn't care about your community and you only cared about and wanted our money. I still have hopes.

And I want to belive you had the same love for Moonvale as you had for Duskwood. If I imagine.. You let your new baby out into the world with the hope of making people happy... And as answers there's nothing but negativity in any way. I have no idea how this must be. And I'm incredibly sorry for it.

And even if I'm completely wrong. Even if you really just wanted money, even then I still feel bad for you about the amount of people looking at you. Even then, although you would deserve it in this case, even then I would still feel bad for you. Empathy is an interesting thing. And parasocial "relationships" as well.

We see what we want to see. But I'm sure, in Duskwood, during Duskwood, we saw who you really are. Because there was no hint of what we saw in Moonvale. How could you fake what we saw in Duskwood?

I wish it wouldn't be the case. But you deserve critism for it. Normal criticism, of course. No hate or insultings. But feedback is needed. In our eyes.

And I just hope that there will be a solution. I hope the situation will improve. I hope so, so much.

Duskwood saved me in so many ways. And it's the truth. Not just a saying or anything. It did. And it gave me so much.

Maybe we completely got everything wrong. Maybe we understood some things wrong.

I just hope that a lot of criticism will be noticed and reflected and that you will find a solution. Because I simply think.. I'm sure we all want to play Moonvale. We all want another amazing game from you. Because Duskwood was an incredible game. A game we loved. And we also want to love Moonvale.

In my eyes, there's so much potential. And I really hope in the next episodes we will see more of it. And less worrying about money.

Of course it's your game. Do whatever you want. And if that's the path you want to take, go for it.

But I really want to say, you have an amazing Community behind you. And if there will be improvements and some changes, I'm sure we all will still be by your side. And we all will support you. This time, gladly. And not because we had to in order to play.

I'm sad. I'm desperate. I'm confused and overwhelmed. And..

I'm sorry.

For everyone. For Everbyte. And for all of us.

I'm sorry about this situation...

[gemsofgreece]

OK some things about Greece's Marina Satti results and we're done with this

JK I am not done with Marina I love her but we're done with the circus Marina was in, for another year

So, she is a perfectionist but I hope she will soon understand how much SHE SUCCEEDED. And it will look like a love delirium but no I am not being biased.

Marina Satti got 11th place. Missed Top 10 by one. She was basically killed by the juries.

In the televoting she won 8th place. So she was in the top 10 of all people's votes. She was also 8th in the votes from the Rest of the World, which is a big deal in my opinion.

I won't be mad at the juries because their voting overall made sense in many ways and we were aware that Zari was a not jury-friendly song in any way. It had zurna, it had rap, obviously juries don't go for this stuff. So, it's okay. We knew that.

BUT Marina Satti got 8th - 11th place:

By singing exclusively in the Greek language.

By singing in an entirely Balkan, eastern melody during a year that a lot of the Balkans and East Europe had withdrawn from the contest.

By kinda rapping / reggaetoning, which is generally hated in Eurovision.

By doing exactly her thing, despite knowing how much she would be fought by certain people.

By knowingly choosing the very risky song instead of a ballad and a typical dance song that she also had available as options.

By not trying to be "understood" and get sympathy votes.

By being given a tiny budget from the Greek delegation, much smaller than any previous years including to last year's NQ lame tycoon nephew entry. So GD gave a famous artist like Marina much less money than to those small unknown kids that had gone before her. WTF

By being hated for her song and her (genius) music video and a large percentage of the population writing in English and asking foreigners to not vote for her and blaming her for insulting Greece, Greek culture etc (HINT: No she did not insult it and a blog called gemsofgreece tells you that so relax) and insulting her, her morals, her family, her father's descent and her talent relentlessly for three months

By the unprecedented thing of the freaking SHOWBIZ of the country making openly insulting attacks against her and her song. Like, seriously, there were FAMOUS celebrities going on TV and calling her song "cat vomit", a fashion designer (before her dress choice lol) saying she should go to Eurovision naked because there's no other hope for her to get votes. I am serious. You might say, oh, she must have done something. NO. Guys, no. She has never said or done anything wrong to any celebrity in the country as far as I am aware. She was attacked by musicians, fashion designers, TV shows and honestly nobody knows why. It's a different thing to not like something than to get a polemic position openly as a celebrity against another famous person. This has never happened before, I don't remember anything like this. Celebrities shitting on another artist's effort out of nowhere, especially in advance. To put it simply, now that Marina will have to return to Greece (poor thing), she has good reasons to sue half the country.

By losing her father one month ago.

By getting pretty ill during the semi-final, losing her voice and being administrated medication every three hours.

By suffering chronically from severe anxiety, which is why she refused three prior propositions from the Greek delegation to represent the country.

Well, by receiving a new massive wave of hate from people from or supporting Israel and the Greek government controlled media and press, who all started a fierce campaign against her the last two days before the final. The reason was that she showed intentionally boredom / sleepiness during the time the Israeli contestant was speaking. Make of that what you will, I am only presenting the facts of how her placement was formed here. Many Jewish people wrote they had voted her in the semi but now they wouldn't. I believe because Israel is an eastern country, probably several people of Jewish descent voted for her and then all those votes were lost. It's no matter, I am just explaining that she would probably otherwise be 7th in the televoting, 10th overall. Here we analyze if Marina succeeded her goal, we don't nitpick for Eurovision's sake.

And as you see, she succeeded. With all the odds against her, with a LOT of people hating her and making her life harder and her effort impossible, with the loss of her father, she succeeded in her vision. Bring back Greek language, the eastern sound and having the world dance with it. Shoutout to Armenia who also succeeded in this and made top 10, the song was a little more conventional. Let's be real, Satti achieved all this with a VERY difficult song. The definition of a difficult song and in a little known language. Nothing else, just congratulations to her and I hope she realises all this and does not let her trademark anxiety and perfectionism get the better of her. Also, she really created an international fan community with this and I think there are good things coming for her in the future :)))))

PS1: Odds had her 8th-10th place but they underestimated the juries and the last day's hate she got. In general odds were not very successful this year.

PS2. No worries Greek and Cypriot televoting exchanged the 12 points again :D

PS3: to the ageist haters who wondered why she looks 20 though she is 38, kitties reach her age and you will be crying to look like her

PS4: Marina’s 8th place in televoting was the best placement since 2013, surpassing Amanda and Stefania with the English jury friendly songs 😃😃😃 Greek delegation take a bloody hint

[thequietkid-moonie]

Cupid!Moonie is here to match up Val 🩷 ( @frickingnerd )

For Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir I match you up with Luka Couffaine !

Despite being more calm and lay back Luka is actually really affectionate and caring, somehow you became one of his top priorities without even forgeting about himself or his friends

Luka quickly become one of your biggests supporters for everything honestly, he isn't the best with words but he can be really good at times so he can help you to win more self confidence (and if is not him he can ask help to his friends to help to by simply helping you to feel more comfortable)

Overall he prefers to spend quality time with only you, wich means that he is always up to share any hobbie you have, he is passionate about music so he will always be playing music for you but he wouldn't mind put his guitar aside for a moment to share time with you by giving a try to any hobbie you have, if he can help you in whatever you are doing he wouldn't doubt on doing so, besides he will be more than happy to play videogames with you

Just as supportive as he is he will always be there to see the results of your projects, he is always objetive if he has to give you feed back but is never harsh with his words, he loves quility time and loves getting invested on what are you doing if he can, but he doesn't do it much because he things that all of that you do it may be personal and doesn't want you to feel forced to include him or him forcing himself doing something he is not that interested on

Somehow he knows whenever you are being harsh on yourself and demand more from yourself and he is always worried about it but his way to helps you with that is by offering you to have a break or simply making you company, playing music in an attempt to easy your mind or making small chat to make you relax, he doesn't want to step on the problem if you aren't searching for help but he is always up to give reasuring words, just reminding you that he is always there for you

Also, your fashion style can be quite similar wich he finds somewhat cute even if he doesn't say it, he has the habit to always tell you that you look beautiful and cute (specially whenever you go out in a date) but he thinks more of that, sometimes he even tries to wear an outfit that could match your usual style, he just things it would be adorable and funny!

Being affectionate for him is something completely natural, he isn't shy when it comes to be physicaly affectionate and he even likes calling you by cute nicknames, when it comes to him dates normally are calm and mostly hanging out, but from time to time he has bigger gestures, like planing a complete surprise romantic dinner (mainly for special dates, but sometimes the special event is simply to celebrate that you two are together)

For Danganronpa I match you up with Shuichi Saihara !

Shuichi feels a little bit intimidated and insecure when compared to you, he already thinks that he isn't someone great but when he looks at you he feels even less, however that doesn't stop him from developing a crush and when you two start an actual relasionship that only gives him a big motivation to work on himself, to win more confidence and stop comparing himself

Shuichi already admires you a lot but knowing that you also want to work on yourself to become better he feels like he admires you even more, he is not afraid of telling you that! besides, since he is also working on his self confidence maybe you two can work together, going step by step, recognizing each other efforts and celebrating together your improvements (honestly he is quite excited by the idea but he tries to don't show it much for his shyness)

Despite being the ultimate detective he doesn't really take too serious that title because he feels like he doesn't do much, but since now he is with you he slowly start to realice how much efforts he actually he has to do whenever he talks to you about it, it doesn't have to be his real cases (wich he prefers to keep as secret because he doesn't want to scare you with the details) but whenever you play any game that has to be with invetigations and invite him over to help or simply tell him about it for fun he can actually realice how much he actually does to solve the cases when talking to you about it

Speaking of it, he doesn't really think he would be good at anything, specially videogames but he gather the courage to give a try whenever you invite him over to do anything you like or are interested on and he honestly always gives 100% to do it right, even if is a videogames he just has a hard time not taking things too serious (he end up getting really invested in some videogames, maybe as much as you do so you two will have a great time by simply talking about the story and your theories)

Thats also why he can understand perfectly fine your perfeccionism because he can be pretty critical and harsh on himself too, he feels like it would be a little hypocrite on his part to ask you to stop so he prefers to just ask you to be kinder on yourself, trying to remind you how amazing you are, as time pass he grows more comfortable to speak his mind off and at the end he may just end up proposing to work on that together since is something it affect him too

Shuichi isn't really the romantic type just because he doesn't know how to do it and get flustered easily by it so whenever he has a romatc gesture like planning a date or even bringing you flowers is thanks to his friends (mainly for being bugged by either Kaito or Kokichi), but he does have the tendency to say incredibly meaningful things without even realicing it, sincere and honest compliments, nicknames that are related to something you or both like, mentioning things that reminded him of you during the day, unconsciously searching your comfort whenever he finish a harsh or too shocking case along with thanking you for being in his life, he preferce to being affectionate indirectly by taking care of you or showing how much you mean to him!

For My Hero Academia I match you up with Mirio Togata !

Mirio is totally the type that will be your boyfriend and your best friend, he wants to see your smile at all times so he is always making sure you have reasons to smile! besides, with the inmense love he has for you that just lead him to always be incredibly affectionate and supportive

Mirio doesn't really had a filter when talking not he sees any reason why he shouldn't not show his love so he is always complimenting you and reminding you how much he loves you, calling you cute nicknames and surprising you with hugs and kisses, he just can't help it, besides, if it makes you happy then he has no reasons to stop. He can be incredibly romantic because it comes natural to him, however he isn't exactly the best at planing dates, he has some problem to properly make a plan but he can do it, he just think somewhere to go where you two could have lots of fun! but aside from that he isn't good at planning much after that, he is a little embarrassed by it but just laugh at it and promise to make it up by making sure you have a lot of fun (also, he may not have much time due being a hero but his free time is always yours!)

Honestly, Mirio admires you quite a lot for your passion and determination, he considere you someone really smart and brave for following your heart and do whatever you want to do, seeing you get a new interest or even starting a new project never fails to make him feel proud of having such an amazing girlfriend! it also make him flattered because you seem so full of life and energy, he swears that everytime he sees you you are even more beautiful! And, of course, no matter what you will always have his full support

Also, if you offer to share any of your interest with him, like sharing your stories or simply playing videogames together he will accept without a second thought, if you wish he can invite over Nejire and Tamaki too because the more the better! He would be ecstatic if you get along with them (and with Eri too, that would just melt his heart and will just make him wish to marry you in a future), besides if you get along with them it just mean more for everyone!

Mirio feels his heart melting whenever he thinks on you because you are so beautiful inside and out, he feels so special whenever you show care for him that he just can't help but call you an angel, your kind heart is one of the things he like the most from you and one of the reasons why he wants to become your hero, it isn't that he underestimate you is just that you are someone worthy of being protected, now you are one of his motivations to become a hero!

Also, thanks for this he is always looking after you, he wants to take care of you and make sure you are happy and safe, so once he find out how perfeccionist you can be that protective side of him just increased, he just gets the habit to remind you how much value you already hold, that even if you don't get the most perfect results that doesn't make you less than before nor less than anyone else, and, of course, that he already loves you just the way you are

For NieR Automata I match you up with 9S !

When 9S is interested on something there is really nothing that will stop him from investigate in whatever have catched his interest, and when it comes to love he is pretty much the same, he may be easily flustered at the start of the relasionship but as time pass he grows more comfortable and affectionate

9S most of the time speak without thinking twice so he is constantly complimenting you and telling you how amazing he thinks you truly are, no matter if you are android or human, not even how simple you think you are he will always see you are someone beautiful and amazing (but whenever he understand what he have said he quickly gets flustered and stutters a little)

9S doesn't considere himself as someone romantic but now that he has you in his life he wants to do every thing that a couple would do, he is fascinanted by the humans so he will want to do anything romantic humans used to do, dates, matching clothes or accessories, dedicating songs and poems, nicknames, anything he can think on he want to try it with you and he does from his heart, everything is sincere and with a lots of love (if you end up pointing it out he will get a little embarrassed but will no deny it)

9S is really passionate when it comes to the humans and all the old buldings he find, as a scanner mode he can do his job while satisfying his curiousity and as your boyfriend he is always talking to you about everything he knows and taking you to amazing places he find as dates, besides since he know you always have the passion and energy to try new things he always tries to find new information about the human culture that you could find interesting just hoping that he can help you find new things that you would want to try (9S goes out of his way to find anything you could like but he is too embarrassed and flustered by it to admit it out loud)

Also, he is always up to heard you talk about your most new hobbie or project and always will be willing to see your progress/results, most of the time he is distracted by how happy and proud you look of what you have done and always gets embarrassed when he catch himself staring at you instead of actually listening what were you saying, and he is even more embarrassed by having to ask you if you could repeat yourself

9S swears that whenever you are around things are more funny than usual, he never gets tired of your company, besides, he is completely in love with you so of course he is always happy when you are around, besides sometimes when exploring you are able to point out new things he haven't notice or even giving another point of view wich only increase his interest on any discovery

But whenever you are being a little too harsh he gets worried, he understand your perfeccionism and how you want to always do your best, specially because he works for YorHa, but that doesn't mean he will just let yourself treat you like this, he always tried to come up with a positive comment about how he thinks you have done a really good job and remind you to don't be too harsh on yourself, dont forget your own limits and that you do have to rest

For The Legend of Zelda I match you up with Link from Skyword Sword !

Link is the type of being best friends with his partner but thats also because he gets easily flustered by romantic stuff, still he tries everything in his power for you to never forget how much you mean to him!

Link admires you a lot and look up at you, he think you are really amazing and even if he doesn't express it directly it is quite obvious by his expression, he not only love how active you can be but your caring and gentle side never fails to make him blush, he gets incredibly flustered by it and is even constantly tease by Zelda for it but he just can't not love whenever you are being caring towards him, it make him feel incredibly loved and special, and he wants to do the same for you because he want you to never forget that you are loved too

Link doesn't think he is more than others or overly special so he can understand if you feel pretty simple or normal, he may just end up doing jokes about it honeslty

He doesn't feel insecure nor intimidated by your amount of energy and hobbies you have, if something he admires you and love seeing you so happy and determited, he may feel a little bad about not being able to keep your pace but seeing you happy is the most important part, he will be happy if you invite him over to share any of your hobbies or interest, even if it is just talking to him about it he happily heard you rant

From his part he isn't easy to get so interested on something on something but when he does he puts his 100% on it, he become incredibly determinated and unstopable, and yet he will always have time to come and check on you or even won't have much troubles to ask for help if he need it, he knows how smart you are so he may just ask you if he needs a second opinion. However, while he is the only one who can go under the sea of clouds everytime he come back he always has new things to share with you that he things you may like, if things are calmer now the he will personally drag you around

Link actually has quite the romantic side, he just feels like being nice and affectionate and can't stop himself, he is shy with words but he always calls you by a cute nickname, besides bringing you flowers or any kind of gift doesn't need much words so he doesn't get too shy, other times he just gets flustered as the words leave his lips, like whenever he give you compliments or say anything that could show how much he loves you (but it isn't that he will retract from his words)

Other things Link does a lot is taking care of you and worring for you, he doesn't want to underestimate you but he is always instinctively stepping in front of you if there is any kind of danger, but when it comes to you being harsh on yourself he doesn't really know much how to react, he is sadden but he doesn't know exactly what to do so he end up just speaking his heart out to tell you how, in his eyes, you are perfect just the way you are, whatever you do is always amazing, you are more than enough and he would never change your for anything in this world

For Honkai Star Rail I match you up with Robin !

Robin is idol admired across all the cosmos, her songs and actions are well know in all the universe and yet she isn't egocentric in the slighest, she is incredibly caring and kind and since she loves you all of that now is directed to you!

The fact that you are trying to grow as a person and become more extrovert, but more important, to love yourself more is something Robin finds completely admirable and since then she have become your biggest supporter!

Robin doesn't judge others for anything really, so even if you seem to have the complete opposite taste in fashion she simply loves it, she even may get inspired to her next costumes for her next concerts, still she is always up to give you tips about make up or how to style your hair as well as trying new clothes, just for pure fun honestly

Robin is one of the most caring people you could find, as a follower of the eon of harmony she wants to do her best to bring peace across the universe, and of course, she is always there to help you too! Robin is really smart and perceptive, somehow she always gets right in time to tell you how an amazing work you have done and debate with your own critique about yourself, she always find a way to refute your harsh coments about yourself and your work even if she end up saying the most silliest thing ever, and when is not about that she simply reminds you how much you have done and achive! Somehow she always knows what to say

Robin is someone that will totally admire your hard work, for her you having so much interests and hobbies is something admirable and she totally support it, always takes time to heard about your most recent interest and even sometimes she gets ideas of new things that you may like that you two could try to together. No matter what you do she is always up to see it and even help you if you need, she can sing along with you or pose for your photos, or even simply being there to hand you your suplies, she just loves the quality time (if she ever catch you singing her songs she can feel her heart melting, and she may end up going with you to sing along)

As well, if you tent to overwork yourself or simply get too invested on anything you are doing Robin always takes time to take care of you, she likes reminding you how much she loves by taking care of you, as well by giving you gifts that thing that can be useful or simply of things you like (who knows, maybe one day she will make a song to be part of the soundtrack of a game she knows you will play just to surprise you)

She isn't shy when it comes to physical affectionate because you are his beloved girlfriend and she has a way with words that can be incredibly romantic (she definetly will gently grab your cheeks out of nowhere and call you her universe), but since she is an idol having secret dates and having to disguise to go out it isn't rare, but she always find it incredibly funny

For A Condition Called Love I match you up with Saki Hananoi !

Saki is completely in love with you! He swears that you are the most beautiful and perfect girl he has ever met and is not afraid of saying it, since he isn't good at relating to others his feelings at first were as only admiration but quickly scaled to love, and once he was sure of his own feelings he was straight forward when telling you about his feelings

Honestly, he admires everything about you! But the fact that you are changing for the better, to grow more confidence and open is something that not only admires but also inspire him a lot! He have changed in the past to become more confidence too but he feels like your change is more sincere and admirable, so he may be inspired by your own bravery to try to start to relating to others too, to don't focus his whole world only on you since you want to stop being so close and become more extrovert (although, he may not say it out loud because he gets a little shy about it)

The fact that you have so much hobbies and interest is a double-edged sword for him, while in his eyes just makes you even more beautiful and perfect it makes him feel less and insecure, while you are living your life at its fullest he barely has anything that inteterest him that much, still he loves hearing about anything you are into, rant all you want because he will heard you with a smile, if you allow him he will even be happy to accompany you whenever you are doing anything you like! At the end he will try to get more hobbies himself to help his insecurities a little bit, but is more likely he end up choosing something you like too so you two can do it together

Just like that, Saki is so in love that if you invite him over to do any of your hobbies with you he will accept without a second thought, wich means he also will be willing to play videogames with you! He honeslty wasn't used to be that interested but seeing you so invested on the stories and the gameplay will convince him to give a try and who knows? Maybe he end up being as passionate as you are for the games (well, as long as he gets to play with you he will be happy to learn to play anything, and I bet he will try to get into the most dificult modes just to impress you, but he will not admit it)

It won't take him long to notice your perfeccionism and how you tend to be a little bit too harsh on yourself, and he is hurt by it! In his eyes you are the most perfect person he have ever meet and the mact that you constantly demand more and more from yourself it hurts him, he try to talk about it and make you stop being so harsh but most of the time he directly stops you, taking your hands on his or hugging you gently but clearly worried, asking you to please don't be so harsh on yourself

He considere himself not so romantic but he is and a lot, it just comes so natural for him to be affectionate and romantic! Most of the time he waits for you to plan the dates and the affection because he doesn't want to overstep your bounduries but if you give him explicit permision to be affectionate then you will not be able to stop him from hugging you and kissing you all day, along with words of undying love!

For My Dress-Up Darling I match you up with Marin Kitawaga !

Marin is someone who isn't discreet with her love, she just can't be discreet, she is loud about anything she likes so now that she is in love she just start talking a lot about you and how much she loves you and everything she loves about you

Marin is someone who puts a lot of attention in her apparience because she likes it, it makes her feel even more pretty, but if you don't like using make up or even if your fashion taste is quite the opposite she doesn't think is something bad, she thinks you are perfect and cute just the way you are and dont have to change! (also, she may or may not have the habit to stealing some of your clothes and using them with proud, even showing off to her friends), but if you do want to give a try to use some make up Marin is already ready to help you with that

Also, Marin always speak with a lot of pride of you! she is unable to don't speak about you so whenever you tell her anything you have tried on the past or your new hobbies and projects her friends quickly get to know too because she just can't stop herself, she just loves you and admire you so much that she simply can't not express that love

Marin loves is quite pure so she doesn't really anything bad on your personality, she mistakes your perfectionism as simple hard work, but after a while (and probably will be thanks to her friends) she will see that you are actually being harsh and demanding on yourself so she gets the habit on reminding you form time to time to be kind to yourself and that the simply okay is completely fine too, and if she has to take your mind out of it she will do it! (she knows exactly what you like so for her is quite easy to drag convince you to take a break)

Marin is completely caring and loving, if there is anything she can do to help you she happily does it so now that you are trying to be more confidence and become more extrovert she happily introduce you to her friends to help you open up a little more and even take you in more outside dates to help you be more at ease despite being with others, giving you a lot of reasuring words in an attempt to help you

Speaking of it Marin is always up to talk about animes and video games with you, she herself is a big fan of them and even if she is more into anime that doesn't mean she isn't willing to accept your recomendation for other games or simply hearing you talk about them, she easily gets invested on the stories you are telling her!

Also, one of Marin's biggests dreams is to cosplay and she is always talking to you about her next plan of wich characters she will cosplay, she will invite you to join her and if you actually accept then she will be incredibly ecstatic, already planing on a million more characters she will love to cosplay and she will even do couple cosplay with you! (she passes from the excitment to the flustered really quick but she is not backing off)

Here it isss my dear V-chan!!! I put a lot of efforts on doing it so i really hope you liked it 🩷 don't worry, i didn't overworked myself

[kedicatt-cotl]

I am loving the AU, though I am most curious. How is Leshy and Heleks' time in the cult? Did they make any friends among the Followers?

Sweet and open to change, Leshy made friends with the followers pretty easily.

The followers have been waiting for him, the first of the four bishops, to come, and as soon as he was left all by himself, they started shyly approaching him one by one, trying to make a conversation. They reminded him of his own cult, in a way.

The followers like Leshy for his niceness, and because he knows lots of interesting fairy tales made up by the Green Crown cult. They were more than glad to help Lamb pave stone pathways through the main areas of the camp, to help Leshy navigate more easily.

---

Heket was nothing like Leshy. She wouldn't want to talk to anyone even if she could.

She was willing to tolerate Lamb, but she always looked down on his followers, finding them dumb, and wouldn't talk to Narinder or the children at all. She preferred to silently isolate herself in her tent, and everyone was quick to learn to just leave her be - at least, for now.

Leshy was the only person she would enjoy spending time with, even though they couldn't communicate directly. Leshy would talk, and Heket would listen. She never understood how he could be so friendly to those stupid followers.

It was through signing that Heket first willingly started making contact with the cult inhabitants. Lamb held study sessions for all of his followers, teaching them words in the follower sign language - before every single one he would borrow the book from Heket and note down a few signs from it. The frog herself would never attend the sessions, preferring to study in solitude. Still, whenever she had to leave her safe corner to, for example, grab her dinner, she could notice the change. The followers of all ages, even the kids, all of them knew how to sign. Just the basic, simple things - short study sessions were way less effective than learning on your own for a while - but they would always do their best to sign as they speak, if it were possible.

One day she asked Lamb, "Why do they sign when speaking to each other?" Lamb smiled, and said, "I asked them to do that. It was Narinder's idea. It's great for practice, and this way, everyone", he made a pause, "would always be able to understand their conversations". Heket nodded. It was actually a pretty good idea, she thought.

Lamb was really going out of his way to make it easier for Kallamar to adjust. She wasn't even doubting that her cowardly brother would choose to stay here - it would be very like him. Seeing all the effort the Lamb's cult was putting in, just for her and her family who they didn't even know, she couldn't entirely hate them.

When she started playing music, it made her the center of attention. She wasn't doing anything spectacular, still the followers who heard music for the first time would compliment her performance and ask if they can try playing the instruments, too. And when that happened, she started responding to them.

A few months later, she's still looking down on the followers, but now she has a few nice acquaintances, which some may even dare to call "friends"��� That is among the smarter ones, of course.

…

But we aren't there yet. Right now it's just her, her tambourine and mildly irritating small talk with mildly irrintating followers.

[goodluckclove]

On Being Seen

I'll warn you in advance, friends and colleagues - I might not have quite an optimistic take on this one. In advance I'll say that I'm totally all right, there's no need to comfort or fawn or worry. It's just been a pretty crazy couple of days and it's sort of left me in a kind of perturbed state of mind.

I feel as if I've developed a reputation on Writeblr as someone strongly supportive of other writers through their struggles and successes, and I figure it might be useful to see that I speak as someone who has their fair share of doubts. Consider it a show of neurosis that supports me as your steadfast advocate in creative growth and potential.

I'll put it under a read more. It's nothing triggering I don't think, I'm just a little embarrassed to have it fully visible under what I still consider to be a relatively professional space. Or at least a space for me as a professional whose brand involves not being very professional.

Nevertheless.

I debated for a long time self-publishing Blind Trust. I went back and forth every so often for weeks, and my poor wife had to deal with the brunt of my strange excuses not to do it. It really came down to one big question, which was...why?

Why am I publishing this? And for money, no less? That's weird. Why would anybody support that? It wouldn't deter me from writing if I never published any of the Songbird Elegies. I'd still write them. I've been writing stories for almost 20 years that no one has ever read and no one will probably ever read.

Sure, I have the fantasies of relative cult notoriety. People making fanart of my characters and sharing weird memes about my plot points. Finding comfort in the words and stories I've created to comfort myself. When I was still considered schizoaffective my dad gave me a copy of Flow My Tears the Policeman Said by Philip K. Dick and said that he was "like us". If that happened to someone else with one of my books it would mean the world to me.

Then again, would it? Because in my actual, real, physical life I am terrible at taking praise. It's like trying to catch a ball from the other side of a brick wall. If you ever pass me on the street I'm guaranteed to be wearing soundproof headphones and blasting music to keep anyone from talking to me. You might catch my eye and I'll smile and nod, maybe toss a compliment your way, but if you try to have a conversation and I do not know you I will absolutely just keep walking. I can't do it.

I love people and I'm terrified of people. It's always been this way.

It's easier online. I mean it when I say that I'm open to anyone here just starting a conversation with me about anything. There's already the unspoken assumption that we're all already weird, so I don't have to think too hard about your motivations. But still, large amounts of praise and positive reinforcement make me deeply uncomfortable. I've been trying to work on that for years, but I find most advice on building self-worth deeply unhelpful.

It's not like I'd prefer hate. I think I'm just not used to being noticed either way.

This is the first time I've made an honest effort to put my work, and by proxy myself (all writers are brands now, says the publishing industry as a whole) on display online. And for the most part it's been great! I enjoy the connections I've made here. The promise of making more. There are so many skilled storytellers here that it gives me a lot of hope and excitement for the future of literature.

But it's weird. It's really weird.

Most of the time I see it as another social media client. I stand by the posts I make and do them for fun, but I also do them to maintain a presence and draw in more attention. I studied to do things like this for work before. I picked like three social media management tactics that I thought I could remember when I was 18 and just stuck by them. And then occasionally I go oh wait. This isn't some nonprofit. This isn't a start-up for tech assholes. This is me.

And that's weird.

It's not a massive following I have, but it's more than I've ever had before under my own personal and creative writing. I published short stories and articles, but I never heard anything from them. There are short stories I have on online journals that I genuinely do not know if anyone has read. Here, I see people like things and I'm like huh. I feel like a mummy or a ghoul. I do not understand what people are doing.

One part of my brain takes this information and says that it's probably proof that when I publish Blind Trust, some people will buy it. People have expressed interest already. Which means they're probably interested, I think. I post excerpts of my writing and people seem to enjoy it enough to click a button or leave a comment. That's cool. I don't get why it happens, but it's very cool and it makes me happy.

At the same time there's this undercurrent of paranoia. I don't get it. And I don't think I ever will. That's essentially been my only coping mechanism for publishing at this point - I don't know if it'll work, but I might as well try and if I do something will probably happen.

I know I'm a writer. At this point it would be ridiculous to say I wasn't. I'm a professional, working writer, and experienced enough to know that saying all that doesn't say much in terms of quality.

Am I a good writer? I don't really know what that means. I like Blind Trust. I'm reading it for the fourth time as I edit it again and I genuinely enjoy it. So someone who thinks like me and has similar tastes to myself might feel the same way. I don't really know who that person might be. Statistically I imagine they have to exist somewhere. And that there's at least a handful of them.

Imposter Syndrome is real and I don't think it ever goes away. I'd like to think that it's one of those things where you think about it less and less, and this is just the first night in maybe five months that I'm really thinking about it.

I'm not expecting to make a ton of money off my first book. In fact, I probably will be sick from anxiety with any purchase I get for the first year, because it means that someone spent human money on writing I am happy to just give them for free.

But this is going to be my job. I want this to be my job so I can spend more time doing it. Because I've dedicated so much time to doing all of this, it means I get to spend a lot of my day getting other writers to write even a little bit of their own stories. And that's so important to me.

I don't know. I don't really have a neat end to this. I'm forcing myself to actually follow through with posting it, and then to continue keeping it up even though it feels incredibly vulnerable to be, in my opinion, this self-indulgent and whiny. It's insecure. I'm still insecure. I'm in therapy and on medication and there's more shit I got to do in life.

Still, I'm telling myself that my version of being a Professional Writer is to showcase emotional pitfalls like this. Newer writers might know that you can sometimes have a night where you might not be in despair, per say, but certainly deep confusion, and then come back the next day and keep on working. I stand by what I mean when I say that the craft should not be entirely miserable. It is still maybe 25% inconvenient to me, and I am currently in that less-desirable quarter.

So what am I doing? Wife got us Jersey Mike's, so I had a yummy sandwich. Kafka is sitting on my calves, just behind my laptop monitor. I'm listening to my soul/funk playlist while Wife plays Hell Divers for the first time. Later we're going to play a board game.

But for now, I'm going to keep editing my goddamned novel.

Blind Trust out in June. Get ready people, because I'm not.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

hhhhoughhh just head in hands like thinking of like learning the info about how yeah no from the scrappiest diy productions to the fanciest bway west end tokyo Nothing is more difficult & intensive than rehearsing & putting on the one-weekend once-a-year cabaret show that is the christmas extravaganza, full-fledged musical pretending to be a concert, 50 or 70 or more people in it all with different schedules so it has to be cast & planned & rehearsed within an inch of its life & gets no full runthrough before the actual performances like. ofc it wouldn't be worse if it were easier lmao but that everyone wants to do it Loves to do it it is the way that it is in its immersiveness (if you think you are safe at a urinal you are sorely mistaken) & exuberance b/c of everyone's effort & wanting to be here & when the bmc bway run was announced will going "we all get to do christmas" making mike rosengarten cry

posting b/c I had one of my little [wauuugh] cries again like going through those final rehearsal clips Thinking About It All where one ends up like shedding two noble tears to super sexy everything you want mister macabee gallop-chassé-thrusting along like truly godspeed the way it's like i get to Live It Up this much even with the much less than "ah yes i've been to so (m)any shows, known about this for all so long" like it's so Resonant i love playfulness i love everyone everything funny i love everyone getting to operate utterly in earnest which they are so enthused to do & this involves so much being funny being weird right along with / Part Of like the skill & effort & tour de forces going on all over. the convergence & combination of effort & enthusiasm from so many people making this so specific niche idiosyncratic show happen & that's Lovely in & of itself but then the audience side like everyone who Has been seeing it (m)any times & Has known & been familiar & loves to come back & every year like more & more of an nyc xmas tradition(tm) & the people talking about i don't even like xmas that much personally but love This or like i Do like xmas much personally but wasn't feeling it this year until i saw this show & the show as its own thing b/c xmas isn't so contained as to not be like well it's whatever you want it to be even when it's also not Fully uncontained like it's definitely kind of located & demarcated in ways lol but yknow some villain fucking a demon can become christmas, they can't stop you. the "celebrate christmas (with me)" spirit lmao....but then also like Newcomers & [person who was like: my mom's reaction sums up many people's first time seeing this show when in the middle of a scene she turns to me, beaming, & goes "what the heck??"] & the entire audience sings along & hugs each other & goes home reeking of peppermint & happiness

there's so much & it's so Live Theatre / Performance & i'm soooo & i think about it & it makes me weep & it happens & i am so happy about it like that it's happening & via internet i get to do things like listen to a whole bloodsong show fourteen years later or just feel more & more like Waaughh Christmasss (Show) like & it Is spectacular but where things like "dozens of people who would love to go full tilt being funny & weird & wild all jump on going ham putting on this show once a year" & also it's so gay & it's so Wow This Is So Enjoyable To Me i can forget to even mention that b/c i mean like well sure of course. a show that'll go sure yeah fucking the krampus and sure yeah the old-timey super sexy barkeep and the feliz navidad conclusion to your long island italian aunt n uncle's sequence and sending up Conventions while embracing their heart like sure the one two Oh My Long Lost Child, Coincidentally (inexplicable kiss on the mouth) nobody even mentioned prior mister macabee's long lost child too and yet. the belly button puppeteers may not be a show constant but i can hear them going babababa Ba. ooouuaoou christmaaassss Yea waaaaaa GIRL!!! and the story of will's first iconis show involvement as the folger's can opening family awakening boy that has still not been told in detail. and the part where they turn on all the strings of lights. the snow, the candy....to just have something like oh hey i'm right on its wavelength and it exists Despite It All, very much despite it thanks to everyone's wholehearted personal enthusiasm combined and joe iconis like here i go sicko mode once again b/c how could i not? and the power of the internet i get to know about it and know i get to know about it and partake even a bit distantly and get such a damn kick out of it like aaaughhh i cry some

[night-unfurls-its-splendour]

When the Longing Returns 

Phantom of the Opera (2004) Fanfiction

Chapter 5

Also read on AO3

Catch up here

Pairing: Erik (The Phantom) x Christine Daaé

Rating: M

Chapter Summary: Christine has her first music lesson with Erik in the lair.

Chapter Word Count: 10,328

This Chapter can be enjoyed with my custom immersive soundscapes! Follow the links in the story!

Notes: This chapter also has a little home work for you. I'll be putting these links in my author's notes as well, but Christine sings excerpts from Faust in this chapter, and I strongly encourage everyone to watch one of these (1, 2) performances for context, if you're not already familiar with Faust.

I would also like to thank my beta readers @l10ng1rl, @itsdarogatimebitch and a very special thank you to my lovely friend and humble reader @enigmawritesstuff, who very generously helped me while writing Erik and Christine's lesson. I don't know what this chapter would look like without her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Christine watched as the gate rose, dripping, out of the water. Her heart was still thumping with a fusion of past and present thrills as the Phantom... as Erik—she thought of his name with a glad rush of warmth—propelled the boat forward and they entered the candle-lit antre.

She suddenly had a sense of being physically overshadowed, and realised that he was looming over her, slightly hunched, chivalrously acting as a kind of human canopy to prevent any of the water drops falling from the gate from landing on her as they passed under it.

How wildly the extraordinary circumstances of her first journey here had played on her imagination!

The lair was still the curiously beautiful place she remembered, lit by candles and the moonlight, which shone down through the vents in the street high above, playing off the water.

But the candelabras did not rise up out of the water and somehow light of their own accord; that had been fancy, and nothing more. Christine was returning with a more prepared gaze and a mind less prone to make fantasy into reality, but it did not diminish her appreciation of the surroundings.

She could only admire how comfortably he had managed to appoint what should be such a dismal place. Cluttered with an artistic disorder and furnished with disused gilded stage decorations and velvet curtains, which gave it the faded opulence of an ancient castle suite, for such a humble abode it was somehow simultaneously grand.

Crowning it all, situated on the flagstone plateau in the centre of the cavern, his magnificent pipe organ, which Christine hoped she would be permitted to watch him play tonight.

She recalled the sight of him sitting there when she'd awoken and left his bed. He'd been composing, moving his fingers over the keys as if playing, but never depressing any of them; she assumed in an effort to avoid disturbing her rest by sounding the thundering instrument.

She remembered being both touched by his courtesy and awed by his knowledge of music, to compose without the aid of sound. He was not an angel, but he was, she heartily understood, a genius.

Her heart momentarily clutched with painful guilt as she remembered how wretchedly she had repaid his courtesy. But she didn't want him to see that there was anything amiss and spoil the joy of feeling his trust by reminding him of her previous trespass. Forcing the feeling away, she fixed her eyes on the surroundings, and found it strange how happy she felt to return to a place she had spoken of with derision and horror only three months previously. She had never told Raoul the full truth of her sojourn here; she knew he wouldn't have believed her if she had, in any case.

Erik watched her glance around the lair as the gondola glided up to the solid shore, and he laid the pole to rest against the wall, stepping easily from the boat. He did notice her look, once, at the alcove where the likeness of her was hidden, covered completely by curtains (as it had been for months), but her gaze slid over it and no expression of consternation came over her face.

He let out an imperceptible sigh of relief and resumed his action, sweeping off his cloak and tossing it in a great heap of wool on the floor.

Christine was not surprised by this, frankly slovenly, behaviour; it was almost the exact motion he'd used before. Though his personal hygiene seemed faultless, he was obviously not particularly orderly in his habits otherwise. Still, he could at least have draped it on the chair, she thought as he removed his gloves and threw them onto the nearest table with scarcely more care than he had handled his cloak.

His eyes, a bright grey-blue in the white light reflecting off the water, caught hers as he offered his hands to help her out of the boat. Christine clasped them, any further thoughts regarding his tidiness (or lack thereof) completely blotted out by the sensation of his large, warm hands enclosing her dainty, slightly chilled ones.

No longer sheathed in leather, the touch of his calloused fingers pressing against her palms set a frantic kind of tingling racing up her arms, down her sides, and into her lower back. It made her legs feel weak, though it didn't seem to prevent her from stepping steadily out of the gondola.

She alighted upon the shore in her modest grace and Erik was momentarily lost in appreciating this. Her gaze parted from his to again rove over the surroundings, as if ascertaining that everything was just as it had been before.

He'd spent much of the night doing his best to make sure that his home was in a fit state for her presence: cleanliness had not been the foremost of his priorities for the last several months and the results had been shameful, even by the standards of a recluse.

He was pleased to find that the soft smile, which had never fully left her lips since she'd first uttered his name, was still fixed there as he led her toward the steps to the platform. Once there, however, he noticed that, though the smile was still present, her eyes—beautiful, glittering, almost a red-black in the warm, low light—seemed slightly anxious.

Christine was anxious.

Now they were here.

Now the lesson was to begin, and though Christine must have had thousands of lessons with him, this would be entirely different.

Now she knew his name.

Now she knew his face.

"Is there anything I can get for you, m-Christine?" he asked, his speech stumbling only briefly as he hastily aborted the phrase "My Love". He didn't understand it, but something in his mind prevented him from verbalizing that endearment, though it came very naturally in his thoughts. What caused the barrier, and why, he couldn't quite determine. He couldn't tell if she'd noticed... he didn't think so, for when he continued, almost blithely, "Some water, perhaps?", she simply nodded with a sweet, quiet, 'Yes, thank you.'

"Wait a moment, then," he said, reluctantly freeing her soft little hand. "I'll be back directly."

He turned, went briskly down the steps they had just come up, and then off beyond the table in the centre of that section which comprised his living and work area, pulling back a curtain which Christine had assumed concealed a mirror, but must, in fact, have led to another room.

She was now left alone before the organ. It was a fine instrument, with a console and wind-boxes of black lacquered wood, the moulding decorated in gold leaf. She felt intimidated just looking at it, with its dual manuals of ivory and ebony keys; its rows of stops, also capped with ivory; and all its pipes standing proud and erect, like incredibly regular leaden stalagmites, reaching for the cavern ceiling*.

Christine knew music—her father had taught her to read notes before she was even able to read letters*—but the physical skill required to master such a complex apparatus bewildered her utterly.

Erik exited his little kitchen holding a carafe of water and a glass tumbler. With hurried steps he returned to her and filled the glass with deceptively steady hands before setting the carafe down on a small marble-topped side-table he'd situated nearby the organ. Christine recognized it as a prop table for Violetta's salon in La Traviata*.

The water was on the cool side of lukewarm (of course, he would not give her cold water before a lesson*). It did not entirely erase her nervousness, but it did refresh her.

"Can I do anything else to make you comfortable before we begin?" he asked. There was, in his tone, a palpable desire (near-desperation, it seemed) to oblige. Christine felt his deference tug affectionately at her insides.

A moment of silent deliberation followed, during which she tried to regain full command of herself as she decided what would best relieve both his need to be of service and her own nervous tension.

"Would... would you play something for me?" she stammered, her eyes flicking past him to the imposing instrument she had been admiring just moments previously.

It was a request Erik had not completely anticipated, but one he would fain fulfil. Of all the things—within reason—she could have asked of him; this was by far the most pleasurable.

"Of course, my dear," he answered readily, moving to the organ, whither Christine followed, feeling a rush at both his enthusiasm and the endearment he'd used.

"What would you have me play, Christine?" His inquiry was soft but ecstatic. "Mozart? Bach?" he offered.

Her face flushed pink, and she stroked the rim of the glass timidly with her index finger, her white teeth sinking into the rosy pillow of her lower lip.

Erik's gaze fixated there, and he hoped she would respond soon; before his body had any kind of impertinent reaction to the image.

Her expression was shy, but her eyes suddenly sparkled with enthusiasm.

If he was to play that superb instrument for her, she wanted his music to be the first she heard from it.

"Something of yours?" she suggested. "Something triumphant."

This addition was made with such an expression of delightful anticipation and encouragement that it sent a current suddenly racing through Erik, which seized his hands in a grip of passionate inspiration.

He knew precisely how to satisfy her request.

Something of his? he thought, a rather pleased half-smile creasing the corner of his mouth as he turned on the bench to face the console. No. Something of theirs.

Christine set down her water glass next to the carafe on the little table and stood off to Erik's right hand, her insides fluttering as he adjusted the stops. She wound her arms around herself as he poised to begin; but even so, she was not prepared for what followed.

She remembered, once, when she was very young, perhaps three or four (not long before Mama had died), her father had taken her into Uppsala, and they heard the organist practicing in the cathedral*. They had listened in the doorway; her father would not take her into the Narthex* (directly above which rested the organ loft) lest the volume should hurt her young ears, though even at that age Christine was able to tell how absolutely fascinated her father was by the sound of the great instrument.

This organ was not as grand as that one had been, but it was still powerful, and Christine now stood immediately beside the source of the thunder. As Erik began, the first blast of the organ's speech made Christine jump slightly, and stole from her lungs the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. The initial eruption of sound was followed by another blast as Erik's hands worked up and down the lower manual several times, and then his left hand shot to the upper row of keys, depressing a single chord as his right hand began a complex counter melody with such a rapidity that Christine was stunned at the flawlessness with which he executed it.

Now came the melody, carried by the bass clef, and Christine watched his thighs tense as his feet moved agilely across the pedalboard, all while his fingers continued that hellacious counter-tune.

Christine felt a thrill that sang in her veins as recognition dawned. She knew this song*.

It was theirs.

Their song, which they had woven, almost spontaneously, together on the night he had revealed himself to her as a man. The night she had followed him here for the first time.

Your spirit and my voice

In one combined

The Cahman organ in the Uppsala Cathedral had played liturgical music—sacred and solemn. But Christine had asked for triumph, and she couldn't imagine a composition that more perfectly suited her request than this. Handel would have trembled to hear it; Bach and Mozart would have had to doff their proverbial caps to this brother-savant.

The resounding voice of the organ, and the arrangement applied to the melody, rendered it an anthem which was singularly—one might almost say 'sinisterly'—dominant in its glory.  That melody—that bass melody—that made the stone under Christine's feet rumble, sending audacious vibrations up through her feet, into her legs, and higher.... It seemed that every part of her from the tips of her fingers to her centremost being was alive with the sensation.

And he... the creator of that music, the genius who, with his deft, practiced fingers, made those pipes breathe as God made man breathe... he was all Christine's eyes sought as she pressed back against the wall simply to keep herself steady.

It was shocking, wonderful, to see him in his element. But she could hardly see his face—the side facing her was masked. But she had to see it; to witness his sublime expression as he fashioned his music.

So, there was nothing for her to do but to cross the plateau and observe him from the other side. She didn't know if her legs would be steady enough to carry her there, and yet they were already in motion.

Erik could see Christine only from his periphery. But he could hear her. He'd heard the little sound that had escaped her as the organ, under his command, bellowed its first resounding strains. And he could make out her trembling white shape, flitting behind him and coming back into view (or just beyond view) on his other side.

He hoped Christine was pleased with what he'd fashioned from their song, having begun this arrangement of it that same night, while she slumbered in his bed. It had then lain untouched until just last night when he'd sat down, in need of something to work at, now that his Don Juan was complete. This could be the overture of a new opera. One he could dedicate wholly to his willing muse....

He imagined what it would sound like with a full orchestra—with brass, cymbals, timpani—as he climbed an octave, the song building to its exultant heights and then dropping again, the bass carrying the bridge with its groaning, almost creeping, certitude.

As Christine watched, with rapt attention, the expression of victory on his face, she saw how the crease at the corner of his sensual mouth deepened with the building crescendo. The sight made her heart thump faster than even the music did.

And then, just as it seemed to be reaching a climax, the music cut off abruptly, and the last note reverberated off the stone walls and ceiling.

Deafening silence reigned for one, two, three... seven seconds as Erik's legs relaxed, and his hands drew away from the keys, settling in his lap.

"I'm sorry... it's incomplete," he explained, gesturing vaguely to the music sheets on the organ.

To Christine, it seemed as though she could still feel the tremors of the organ shaking in her core. Her legs felt quite numb with the cessation of the vibrations, but, again, they carried her without staggering. She rushed to him, sitting beside him on the bench, her expression nothing short of exuberant.

With no thought, no hesitation, Christine reached for his talented hands, clasping them in hers and drawing them close.

"It's incredible!" was all she could say, in a thrilled whisper; and that commonplace adjective fell stupendously short of conveying the depth of her awe, which words alone could not describe.

But no words were needed, of course.

He knew that the composition and arrangement were both technically exquisite—he had no concerns regarding the quality of the piece. What mattered to him was what Christine thought of his adaptation. Though, from the uninhibited exultation with which she had thrown herself onto the seat beside him—the same exultation with which she had sought out, and now clutched, his hands—she was very much pleased with the work.

And Erik was pleased with her reaction. She had brushed his thigh in her haste to capture his hands, and that faint but enthusiastic touch excited his heart to a rapid, thundering beat. He resisted, with mounting difficulty, the impulse to free one hand from the gentle cage that confined it and press it to the side of Christine's face, or perhaps her neck.... The memory of how her skin had felt—soft and delicate as a rose petal—the one time he'd been privileged to touch it, had sustained him through the time they'd been separated, and it must carry him through now. He could not allow them to become distracted.

Only Christine's touch could distract Erik from music.

"I thought, if you approved, that this could be an overture for a new opera..." he said, raising his voice slightly—an attempt to quell excitement with a conversational tone.

"If I approved?" Christine echoed softly, still holding his hands between them.

Her index finger was absently stroking his hand in the same shy motion she had executed on the water glass—one of her little nervous ticks (and Christine had many). It made it difficult for him to control his breathing. But he could not remove his hands from hers, so long as she wished to hold them.

Christine had not expected him to seek her input on his work. What insight could she possibly offer? Any knowledge of music she had claim to was owing completely to him, except that which she owed to her father.

"This is not my music only, Christine; it is yours, also," Erik explained in a low steady voice. "I would not dare put it to any other purpose without your approval first."

Christine’s gaze darted down to their hands and remained fixed there, on the red stone in his ring. Her cheeks began to glow pink again.

"Mine?" she questioned.

"Yes, Christine," he responded, fervour enlivening his eyes. "You began our duet that night, not I."

"But,” she argued, “I would never have been able to do that without you." She felt a mere shadow next to him. His musicality was so far superior to anything else she'd ever known. For an angel that was expected, but for a man it was uncanny, almost unfathomable. "I have no genius of my own," she said quietly.

"Untrue!" he declared suddenly, his resonant voice echoing in the cavern.

She jumped, taken aback by his sudden outburst. It was he who grasped her hands now. One of his hands extricated itself and he lifted it to her chin, tilting her face up with his fingers. 

"Look at me," he said, his voice coloured by a commanding timbre which Christine could not disobey. She glanced up and met his gaze. His fingertips against the skin of her jaw made her stomach tingle.

It galled him viciously that she should think of herself in such terms. No genius of her own! Outrage! Sacrilege!

"Your aptitude for music," he said with warmth, with severity, with passion, "is unmatched by any woman who has ever sung in this city. As your teacher, I have, I hope, guided and inspired you; but your talent... your power is all your own, my dear Christine."

His tone was agonisingly soft upon this last pronouncement, and his vehement assurance washed over her, stole her breath with intoxicating force like a strong March wind, both exhilarating and comforting.

"You must never forget that skilled as I am, though I say it myself, I am not so powerful as to be able to imbue talent where there was none before. I am only able to foster what nature has already gifted you. Do you understand me? And please say that you do, Christine, for you must know—know—that it is not in my nature to lie about music to spare anyone's feelings; even yours*."

Christine could not help but believe him wholeheartedly. She did know. She knew from OG's infamous notes that the Phantom never withheld criticism where he found fault; and the Angel had never disparaged her in their lessons, but he had never flattered her ego unduly either, even when praising her. But then, she had believed the Angel incapable of partiality or deception. Erik, on the other hand would perhaps have been a less sure thing without this severe lecture. Speechless, and a little chastened, Christine inclined her head in affirmation.

Erik withdrew his fingers from her chin and his hand re-joined its twin in enfolding hers.

"I wish you never to speak of yourself like that again," he said. His adamant tone and expression had softened now.

His confidence in her flooded Christine with emotion, to a point that she thought she might not be able to contain it; that it might take the form of tears and leak from her eyes. She nodded again and closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths to subdue herself. He gently squeezed her hands in his, and the pressure was somehow both exciting and relaxing.

Immeasurable seconds passed, and Erik waited patiently for her eyes to open again, taking this opportunity to simply indulge in admiring the astonishing perfection of her delicate profile in a detail he'd never had the luxury of experiencing until this very moment.

When, finally, they did open, and she looked up at him with her brown irises clear and calm, he took a steadying breath.

"Shall we begin?" he asked, regulating his tone to ensure it was clear to her that they would proceed only if she was comfortable.

Christine's heart stuttered with nerves again, but she was embarrassed by her timidity, and did not want to waste the little time they had by being a coward. She'd already sung tonight; there was no reason she should feel so apprehensive. So, determined to master herself, she nodded confidently.

He stood, and drew her up with him, leading her, with one hand holding hers and the other lightly resting on the small of her back, to stand roughly where she had been when he'd begun to play.

While he moved away, to remove his jacket and fetch his violin, Christine took a sip of water and then linked her fingers behind her back, pulling her arms down as far as she could and sighing as she felt the stretch in her chest, shoulders, and spine.

Thus primed, with her shoulders relaxed and posture correct, she felt ready to begin when he returned to sit upon the organ bench.

His cerulean gaze roved down her form with an approving smile which rendered him entirely dashing, and almost undid all of Christine's efforts to remain in command of her heartbeat. In his shirtsleeves and waistcoat, he sat in an almost debonair attitude of ease, and it occurred to Christine that she'd never seen him look so relaxed except for the brief moment she'd observed him at his work, before he noticed her presence. It was unusual, and yet seemed so perfectly natural and becoming to him.

"Now," he said, "this is a lesson just like any other, Christine. So, we shall begin as usual. Breathe in..."

And Christine did. Her lessons always began in this way. Christine breathed in, and in, until she felt her lungs could hold no more, and then in again; holding it—feeling the effects in her shoulders, in her abdomen—until she could hold it no longer. And then, finally, the glorious, soothing rush as she released that great breath, letting it hiss out slowly between her teeth and her tongue.

Normally, in the Chapel (where all of her lessons had been held until this one), Christine would fix her gaze on the flame of her father's candle during this exercise; but now her eyes were locked with Erik's.

She noticed that he seemed to move in sympathy with her, his shoulders rising as she breathed in, and falling as she exhaled.

"Very good," he said, nodding slightly, his approving smile still fixed in place.

And with that, they began her warm-ups.

Christine had always hated warming up. Particularly, she hated having to do it alone. As a child she'd thought it sounded silly, so her father would always do them with her. And then, when Erik, in his guise as the Angel, had also found her reluctant to do them by herself, he, too, did the exercises with her; and in this way, she had come to enjoy them.

Three months ago, when she had lost her tutor, it had become a two-fold trial for her. Not only did she hate the silliness of the sounds, but the absence of her teacher's voice had made the practice oppressively lonely. The routine was empty, and the sound of just her voice had seemed silvery and cold. She could have asked any of the chorus members to warm up with her, but even if she'd not been too shy to approach someone (and she didn't know many of them very well), it would simply have felt... wrong to do it with a practical stranger; and they would not know the methods that the Angel had used with her—the same methods her father had used. (How Erik had been able to know those exact methods was a mystery which Christine was puzzled, and almost terrified, by). It was more than just routine for her; it was ritual, it was intimate, it was sacred. She felt that with more conviction than ever, now that his voice was mingled with hers again.

After about ten minutes of preparation, Erik said, "Excellent. Now, the next performance of Faust is Friday, yes?"

Christine nodded in confirmation, though she was sure he knew the performance schedules better than the managers did.

"That being so, I'm afraid we have only a little time to prepare you," he replied apologetically.

Christine was a little confused by this. She was more than prepared; Siebel was not a demanding role, and she'd already sung in two performances.

"We'll run through your parts, then, starting with those in... Act III."

Christine's brow furrowed; Siebel was introduced in the beginning of Act II... but then his solo was in Act III, so she thought no more of it.

Until, after awaiting her signal that she was ready to begin, Erik began to play what was, unmistakably, the King of Thule Aria*.

Christine blanched.

She supposed... if he'd not been leaving his notes for so long, then perhaps he'd not been observing the goings on... was it possible that he did not know that she wasn't playing Marguerite? That he assumed that, ever since he'd showered his wrath upon the premier of Il Muto, she had been given leading roles, per his demands? How would he react when she told him that she was singing Siebel? Christine suddenly feared for MM. Andre and Firmin.

"Erik, wait, that..." she took a deep breath, nervous to speak now. He stopped playing and looked at her inquisitively. She set her jaw and said bravely, "That's—that isn't my part."

In the course of the following seconds, Christine watched the metamorphosis of Erik's expression into something sly and knowing.

He cocked his head, an eyebrow raised facetiously, as if to say Come now, my dear; you should know better than that.

"Yes, it is, Christine," he said, his voice a low, chilling rumble.

And she understood. It made sense why he'd apologized for only having four nights to prepare her for the performance: because, by some machinations of his, as yet unknown to her, she would be singing Marguerite.

He smiled in an odd mixture of amusement and apology as he watched the realisation dawn on her adorable features, and then shift into panic.

"Erik!" Christine gasped, her shoulders hunching as her hand came up and braced over her abdomen—she felt a hot, tingling wave of nervous agitation rush through her. "Erik, I-I can't sing Marguerite!"

He set down the violin and bow on the bench, and stepped close to her.

"And why should that be?" he asked.

Her lips trembled as she searched for a response.

She fumbled because as his words, sonorous and certain, settled in her ears, she began to think, indeed, why couldn't she? It was the one role she had always longed for most.

Erik knew this. Every time the Opera Populaire produced Faust he watched her gaze covetously at Marguerite from the wings, mouthing every word, for she knew it all by heart. When she was fourteen, she had confessed to him—or rather, to the Angel—her admiration for the role, though at the time her voice was not nearly developed enough.

Now though?

A week ago, he had come out of the lair for the first time since October to survey the goings on of the Opera and to observe the preparations—for the Bal Masque, and for Faust. And he had watched her on the stage after-hours, singing—with only the gilded figures, writhing in their agonies and ecstasies, which adorned the balconies, and the painted cherubim on the ceiling for her audience—a sublime, a flawless (or nearly flawless), rendition of The Jewel Song*.

And it was truly a role Christine was born to. One she would sing as it had never been sung before. No one who did not hear Christine Daaé sing Faust would be able to claim to know Faust*.

The last several times they had run this opera, the role of Marguerite had been gobbled up greedily by Carlotta Giudicelli. And now Firmin and Andre had, as Lefevre had before them, handed it to her on a platter.

It was an insult to Monsieur Gounod for them to have cast such a tawdry pieceas "La Carlotta" again in the role of Marguerite. Since he had discovered it—though he was not surprised—Erik had been considering ways to make the contemptible cow pay for butchering a role which was characterized first and foremost by humble purity with her vulgar, Café Jacquin* caterwauling.

Perhaps he could make her "moo" this time instead...

Christine tried to imagine herself singing the role. She'd done this often, but never with an idea that it would truly happen—and now, if Erik had his way, it was to happen in less than a week! Her heart was pounding at the thought. She'd had her triumphs, of course, but Elissa and The Countess were both very straightforward roles; Marguerite required incredible emotional range. She had taken both roles at the very last minute, but she had been practicing them with the Angel for weeks beforehand. Though she knew Marguerite by heart, four days didn't seem enough to prepare for the role of her dreams. At the moment, four months hardly seemed like it would suffice.

"Indeed," Erik continued, his voice low and compelling, "you are the only one, Christine. Only you can sing Marguerite as she was meant to be heard*. Carlotta is entirely unsuitable."

That was true, Christine had to admit. Just the other day, a giggling Meg had joyously shown her the reviews for the opening night performance in the Revue Theatrale. While most critics had given Carlotta the usual perfunctory praise which her influential friends purchased for her with bribes, one, who was anonymous, very highly esteemed by the public, and clearly too rich to be bought, had very openly (and accurately) criticised Carlotta's Marguerite as "Rather too splendidly sensuous*".

Christine looked up into the eyes of her mentor, electric with encouragement, and felt bolstered. If he, prodigy that he was, believed that she could be ready to perform Faust in four nights, then who was she to argue with him?

Christine found herself nodding again, and Erik smiled with approbation.

"Good, Christine. Very good."

His eager eyes flicked across her face and then followed a stray lock of her hair down over her collarbone. He almost reached out to brush it back over her shoulder, but he couldn't risk the diversion which the sensation of her skin against his fingers might pose to him.

"Now then," he said, briskly, clearing his throat and retreating from her to take up his violin again, “From the recitatif* 'Je voudrais bien savoir'. Whenever you are ready, Christine."

Christine found herself faltering a little when he walked away from her, but held herself straight and cleared her throat. "I'm ready, Ang—Erik..." she corrected herself with a blush.

Erik, smiling at her little slip, began the accompaniment again, and Christine began to sing.

"I should dearly like to know who this young man was;

Whether he is a noble lord and what his name is... "

It was not difficult for Christine to achieve the correct emotional tone for Marguerite as she sang these lines. She had often seen it performed giddily, flutteringly, but Christine had always favoured a more awestruck interpretation—a hazy distraction. It was easy to portray because it was a disposition Christine had often felt inclined to, but had to suppress, over the last few days.

Marguerite shook her head and began to sing her ballad about the melancholy King of Thule and his golden chalice, before drifting off again, into her dreamy contemplations.

"It seemed to me that he was most handsome..."

She resumed the sombre, steady chanson, before interrupting herself again:

"I hardly knew what to say,

And at first, I blushed bright red."

She could sympathise; as she sang, she became keenly aware of Erik's gaze fixed constantly on her. How could eyes so cool a shade of blue radiate such a burning heat?

A lesson just like any other, he'd insisted. But how could it be? No walls divided them, as in the Chapel, no illusions. He was so blatantly there, before her; a man—corporeal. How could this be a lesson like any other lesson when she could feel—could see—his eyes raking over her? When she knew that he perused her with the gaze of a lover.

But what if she really wasn't prepared to sing Marguerite? If, despite his assurances, Erik's feelings for her were, in fact, blinding him to her deficiencies? What if she disappointed her teacher...? Her teacher who loved her?

The thought made her tense; made her sweat. Her shoulders stiffened a little as she clutched her shawl in her suddenly damp hands. A slight panic overtook her, because she could hear her voice tightening as the song-within-the-song concluded and Marguerite again became occupied with her fancies, until finally...

"None but great lords possess a mien so resolu—"

Christine's voice cracked, and she stopped all at once, her face reddening in embarrassment. Erik ceased his bowing as Christine turned her face away.

"I'm sorry," she muttered with mortification, hiding her face in her hands, and rushing to sit down on the organ bench.

"Christine, it's alright. You needn't apologise," Erik said with the steady kindliness of the Angel as he sat beside her.

He frowned now, glad that she was hiding her face and wouldn't see it; he didn't want her to think he was upset with her. It was himself he was displeased with.

To be sure, her shock at his intentions for her to sing Marguerite had been every bit as precious as he'd predicted, but he ought to have thought better of surprising her like that when it would put so much pressure on her, and with so little time to prepare herself, just to see that expression.

Imbecile! he scolded himself internally, holding his violin and bow in one hand and running his other across his mouth, which twisted in frustration.

"I don't know what happened," Christine moaned, somewhat aware that this was a lie, her elbows on her knees and forehead in her hands.

"Christine, it's perfectly understandable," Erik said. "I must take the blame, I think. I've put too much pressure on you. And it's your first lesson after... after a long time, and in a place you're unused to as well."

He couldn't stand to see her in that attitude. He lifted a cautious hand to her shoulder as he spoke and was surprised to find that her rigidness seemed to ease under his touch. She straightened up a little and lifted her face, turning to look at him.

Strange that the heat of his eyes had inspired such tension, and yet the warmth of his hand soaking through the thin cotton of her nightdress seemed only to relax her. She was leaning in against him, an unconscious craving to be nearer his warmth conducting her movements.

This, too, surprised Erik slightly. He'd vowed to keep his distance, but what could he do when she was closing it? Her proximity to him had shifted just enough that his hand's position became awkward, so he moved it, quite easily, around to her other shoulder, his arm now stretching across her back.

This would do. This was safe enough; near, but not dangerously so, as they had been in the tunnel when she'd been pressed against his chest. And it seemed to ameliorate her, which was all the incentive he needed to allow it.

Just at that moment, looking at his arm spanning her delicate shoulders, he happened to notice that the ribbon tying her curls back appeared to be the same weight and width of those which he had tied around the roses he gave to her. She'd kept one? It had to be the one from the gala night, for he knew too well the fate of the one he'd gifted her for Il Muto.

She'd kept it.

The affect which this simple little bow of silk had on Erik was profound. He wondered if this, like the change in her soap, had been a conscious choice on her part; some little manner of eschewing her attachment to Raoul de Chagny. But the idea also occurred to him that perhaps she had been using it all along. All this time, had she been (consciously or unconsciously) wearing his favour, even as the little Vicomte courted her?

Erik's heart suddenly thudded faster (with an excitement which, he was aware, was a little perverse) at that thought; his neck was suddenly warmer under his cravat, and the fingers of his left hand flexed, itching to tighten on Christine’s shoulder and draw his little soprano still closer.

But that would be dangerous. This was not the time to be having such ideas, especially when she was dispirited and vulnerable.

"If you like, I would advise that you take some more water and then try again whenever you feel ready," he said, forcing himself to remember that, right now, he was her mentor first and foremost. "But if you aren't comfortable continuing, we can end the lesson here for tonight. I don't want to—"

Alarmed by this suggestion, Christine suddenly sprang fully upright in her seat.

"No! Please!" she protested, interrupting him.

Erik did not seem the least bit disappointed in her, as she'd feared he might, but she did not want to end the evening with a failure. It was her own fault; she'd been lying when she said she was ready to begin, and that was a mistake which she should have known better than to make. She had simply been too proud, and she'd let her doubt in herself get the better of her.

But with his hand cupping her shoulder, with his arm enclosing her, she felt mellow and confident. She wanted to sing Marguerite and would not retire to bed after one slip-up in practice; she didn't think she could sleep if she did.

"I don't want to end the lesson," she said with determination. "Let me try it again."

"Are you certain, Christine?" he asked, his tone very serious, almost stern.

"Yes," she said resolutely. "I'm ready now. I want to sing."

It pleased Erik to see her with such a will, such a brightness in her vast, lustrous eyes. It seized him in his centre, and, with a surety he'd not felt since gala night, when he had first had the pleasure of igniting the sensual spark in those rich, dark irises, he said solemnly (though with a timbre in his voice which was not entirely teacherly), "Then, my Angel, you shall sing."

Again, they stood, and again he walked her to her position; and this time he allowed himself the liberty of circling behind her to place his hands on her shoulders, pulling them back to ensure her posture was just so.

A little hum built in Christine's throat as she felt his palms press against her shoulders, a sound of mingled contentment and anticipation.

As he came around in front of her again, he indulged a little, tracing his hand down her arm, the curve of her elbow, to take her hand in a fluid motion and squeeze her fingers lightly before releasing them. He offered her some more water and she drank, handing him the glass when she was finished.

Then he took his instrument in hand once more.

"From the beginning. When you are ready, Christine," he said, poised to begin.

Christine simply nodded this time.

If she thought she had started well before, it was nothing compared to this. She was astonished at the smoothness with which she was now singing. It was as if she was somehow singing in velvet as she oscillated between the gloomy ballad and Marguerite’s recollections of her encounter with Faust. Her prior failure crept into her thoughts as she approached the line she'd botched, but she combated it using the techniques Erik had taught her, while keeping her thoughts fixed on the memory of the warm steadiness of his arm around her, which incited a rather pleasant tension all down through her abdomen.

"None but great lords possess a mien so resolute,

Together with such gentleness!”

She glided over the notes that had previously seemed out of reach to her. Her voice was full and flexible, as clear as a mellow church bell; and every phrase of music she conquered fed her confidence.

Without thought or pause, she flowed effortlessly through the recitatif that bridged The King of Thule and the Jewel Song, her movements and expressions becoming animated as she acted out Marguerite's discovery of Siebel's posy of flowers and the infernal casket of costly jewelry.

"Whence could this rich casket have come?" she asked, kneeling on the floor as she would on stage with the jewelry case before her. Brow furrowed, she continued, timidly:

"I dare not touch it, and yet …

Here is the key, I think."

Her head tilted to the side.

"What if I opened it? 

My hand shakes.

But why?

It is not wrong to open it, I suppose."

Inside, Erik's heart was swelling with admiration and pride. How marvellously she portrayed the tremulousness of the girl as she reached a shaking hand forward to open the box!

"O God! What a lot of jewels!

Is this some bewitching dream

Which dazzles me,

Or am I really awake?"

He could only imagine how radiant she would be on stage. But on stage it would be difficult to see exactly how precisely she had crafted her interpretation over the years she'd yearned for the role. Only he would ever be close enough to see her eyes glitter as if reflecting the sparkle of the precious jewels that existed only, at the moment, in her mind's eye.

"If only I dared

Adorn myself, for a moment,

With these earrings!" she mused with the breathless wonder of temptation lighting a covetous fire in her eyes as she touched each earlobe, as if to don the earrings.

"Ah! there is a mirror

At the bottom of the casket!

How could one help admiring oneself?"

She gasped in wonder, holding up an invisible mirror, canting her head at a proud angle and twisting her slender, graceful neck to admire the earrings.

"Ah~" she began to trill, glancing at her maestro, whose violin sang in harmony with her. Her vocalisation melted into the aria, and Christine felt the rapture of song overtake her.

"Ah! I laugh to see how lovely

I look in this mirror!

Ah! I laugh to see how lovely

I look in this mirror!" she sang joyously, before caressing the mirror's face with astonished fingers.

“Is that really you? Marguerite? Is it?

Answer me! Tell me quickly, tell me, tell me, tell me!" she bade the reflection, before clutching it to her bosom and closing her eyes.

No, no! – this is no longer you!

No, no! – this is no longer your face!

This is the daughter of a king!

The daughter of a king!

Is it you? Is it you?

No this is the daughter of a king,

To whom everyone bows as she goes past!

Her face drifting up, Christine's eyes opened and, glazed and dreamy, caught Erik's. Her heart pounded as she sang:

"Ah, if he could see me thus,

He would think me as handsome,

as any fine lady!"

Ah~” her heart soared as her voice floated up in an airy crescendo.

"He would think me as handsome

As any fine lady!"

What delicious irony that she could see Erik watching her with his sharp, blue eye as she sang this. Her skin prickled, but it was not with perturbation.

"Let's complete the transformation!

I am longing to try on as well,

The bracelet and the necklace!" she exclaimed in mellifluous tones, feeling the heady rush of excitement Marguerite felt, her heart resplendent with the sumptuous song. She pantomimed the action of adorning herself with an almost crazed intensity. She "put on" the bracelet and gasped:

"Gracious! It feels like a hand

Clasping my wrist."

Erik imagined his hand applying that weight to her delicate wrist which the imaginary bracelet mimicked, and then was, again, briefly consumed with the idea of kissing it as she stood and sang through Marguerite's decadent raptures of naïve Vanity.

"Marguerite, this is no longer you!

This is no longer your face!

This is the daughter of~ a king~" her silver accents of elation rang throughout the lair, echoing off the walls and ceiling, surrounding them both in the vibrating song.

"To whom everyone bows~ as she goes past~"

The splendour of her voice as it climaxed caused Erik to suppress a deep moan. Closing his eyes and inhaling sharply, he was able to contain himself for as long as was necessary to play out the ecstatic finale of the piece. But when it was finished, and Christine stood before him, with eyes alight and breast heaving, he set the violin aside and sprang forward to grasp her shoulders.

"Excellent, Christine! Magnificent!" he ejaculated*, his voice and expression saturated with an adulation so powerful she felt a fire seem to light in the apples of her cheeks.

Christine was panting and ecstatic after her song, but his praise was splendid, overwhelming, and stole whatever breath she'd managed to recover clean away.

Raoul praised her singing ceaselessly, but Raoul would laud anything she did. She could spill paint on a canvas and call it art and he would applaud her skill. He was not very musical; and, though exceedingly fond of her father, had retained almost nothing of what her father had taught him when he was Raoul's music tutor. She'd found that out quickly.

Praise from Raoul could never be anything more than flattery.

Praise from her teacher? From the most musically gifted individual she'd ever known, who had imparted to her only a fragment of his own vast knowledge? That was profound. It was everything.

"Oh, you are more than ready to perform Marguerite, Christine, more than ready," Erik continued effusively, lightly caressing her face with his knuckles. Her honeysuckle aroma, pure and enticing, filled his head and made his ears roar with how it quickened his blood. Breathing heavily, he drew so near to her, bent his head so close, that their foreheads almost touched.

Christine, still filled with the euphoria of singing—singing for him—at her full power, and at seeing what vibrant animation accompanied her Angel's jubilant voice as he celebrated her, did not hesitate to lift her face to his. His fingers stroking her cheek with such ardent tenderness had set a warmer kind of joy bubbling up inside her, and her lips were beset by a tingle which she knew could be satisfied, if only his would meet them.

Erik suddenly became aware that her hands had come up to rest against him, one on his chest, the other at his waist. Her eyes were dark, her lips tantalisingly parted, a slender line of rich darkness and glinting ivory just visible between the lush, fruit-pink curves.

Erik recognised this attitude with a heart-stopping jolt; it had reigned his mind for the past forty-three hours.

This was invitation.

The lesson was over. The line that divided his distinct roles of tutor and lover blurred, and disappeared as the sight of her bosom rising and falling stole his breath. He drew his right hand with a shaking, but elegant touch up the slope of her shoulder. Trailing it tortuously along her collarbone, he finally took that errant lock of hair which had distracted him during their lesson, let the kinks of burnt umber silk run through his fingers, and lifted it delicately over her shoulder, allowing his fingers to graze her skin¹⁷.

Christine gasped, not out of surprise or shock, but something else which seemed to correspond to that pleasant tightness which spanned from her ribs all the way down to her thighs and everywhere in between.

She was quivering like an aspen as Erik allowed his head to dip, closing that last inch required for his mouth to meet hers, and enveloped her sweet, full upper lip between his. He tilted his head to the right so that, when their noses inevitably brushed, hers would be met with warm flesh, rather than the cold ridge of his mask.

He gripped her shoulders firmly, and she craved the pressure.

Erik, almost vibrating with the surreal exhilaration of Christine soliciting his kiss—the second time in as many days—brought his hand to the side of her neck, and it curved, moulding itself to the elegant column where he could feel the rhythmic, tangible song of her blood rushing in her veins. God, but it was more beautiful than he'd even imagined, to feel that beat racing under his hand! His thumb traced the smooth line of her perfect jaw and he felt it drop slightly as, breathless, she began to take action by gently sucking his lower lip.

His recollections of feeling Christine kiss him, of feeling her blessed mouth grace him with the tenderness which he craved so desperately—which he had, until yesterday, believed would be forbidden him forever—were the most precious moments in his unhappy life. He had an excellent memory, and they were but two days old, yet already they had faded, and failed to do justice to the actual experience. He'd thought them still fresh, still vivid, but he realised now, feeling her mouth, both active and yielding against his, that nothing would ever compare to the pure joy of feeling her there, leaning willingly up to him.

No doubts regarding Christine's motivation now intervened to subdue Erik's passion; the hot yearning in the pit of his stomach spurred him on. The hand cradling her neck pulled her closer so he could kiss her with an urgent force, and he felt his blood rushing downward, an ache beginning to throb in his loins.

His mind was briefly overtaken with a scene his lust had often conjured: pushing her up against the stone wall and hitching her leg around his waist. Pinioning her there, thrusting his hips into hers, and letting his building erection rub against her whilst she whimpered with pleasure and clung to him... But Erik—even with his head swirling with her air as she sighed against his lips and leaned eagerly up toward him—had not yet completely lost hold of the good end of his reason*.

This Christine, the one he held, was not the same as that girl in his imagination, however avidly she received his attention.

Not just yet, at least.

Whatever passion had her in its grip, she was no more experienced than she had been on that morning in the cemetery. Her desire was without question; but it was delicate, tender, still budding.

Abandon, aggression, could end in disaster. Christine was a good girl, and he had reason to believe that she would not appreciate being introduced to physical love by his suddenly using her as something to rut against, like a beast. He did not want to use her like that, whatever images his aching loins were feeding his brain.

When he finally took Christine, he thought with relish, she would be his wife... and it would be perfect for her.

He was glad that his hand was still firmly braced on her right shoulder, for that was the arm which she had around his waist, and with which she seemed to be trying to pull closer to him.

She didn't know what effect that would have on him, while her lips, warm and soft, moved in tandem with his; how it would make his member pulse and strain in its confines with desperation. It took a mighty effort for Erik to suppress the blatantly hungering moan building inside his throat as her fingertips dug into the silk of his waistcoat.

He would give Christine as much pleasure and love as he was able to, through only a kiss; though it was a mere drop in the vast ocean of adoration in which he wished to submerge her. And for himself? He would take his pleasure in the miraculous blessing that she, by some mysterious working of her enigmatic heart, wanted this. But he couldn't allow her lower body to be pressed against his own, and so shifted his left hand to her shoulder blade, pulling her closer to his chest, but no lower.

Christine, for her part, longed to be pressed against him as fully as possible. His hand on her neck was rough and warm and the slight pressure with which he dug his fingertips into the back of her neck made her feel limp, but she wanted his other hand on the small of her back. She wanted him to hold every inch of her tightly against him, like he had in the cemetery. Like Raoul never had. And yet, though Erik held her to his breast, he did not move the other hand to mimic his motions at the mausoleum.

Still, he seemed to lavish her all the more with his mouth by way of recompense, easing the force of his lips against hers, brushing his tongue lightly across her upper lip, and then sucking on it luxuriantly. He released her for a brief moment, catching a deep breath, and within a heartbeat he was bearing down upon her again and rubbing the pad of his thumb languidly against the hollow below her ear.

Someday soon, he thought with devilish delectation, he would kiss her there; it would be the tip of his tongue caressing that little furrow. The thought of how she would moan made him ache obscenely for her, but he was a patient man, and he would control himself.

The effect of this action on Christine’s senses was potent, and she found herself swaying, her mind hazy and full of his touch and his rich, bittersweet scent. Her hands, almost numb, tingled to the very tips of her fingers. Had she ever felt so great a felicity as this?

On the rooftop, with Raoul, she had soared with elation; the kiss she had shared with Erik in the cemetery had been epiphany, almost more spiritual an experience than physical; this... this bliss was so all-encompassing she felt entirely swept away, floating, almost powerless, in its thrall.

A little clock somewhere in his work area began to chime; two in the morning.

The lair having been completely silent, save for the ambient drips of water and the soft sounds of their mouths taking enjoyment of each other, the unexpected sound made Christine start, effectively ending their kiss without either of them having to make the hated decision themselves.

Slightly disorientated, she glanced over his shoulder in the direction whence the chiming issued as if she had never heard such a sound before; and Erik, his eyes surveying her pink cheeks and reddened lips with a mixture of veneration and satisfaction, hummed.

The time he had so precisely allotted for their lesson had expired. And probably, though he did not like to admit it, for the best.

He lifted his thumb to her chin, and Christine's eyes returned their focus to his; they were radiant with that indescribable joy which she was certain they had only shown once before—and only to her. She basked in that radiance.

Her lips remained parted, breaths shallow, as he brought his hands to her shoulders once more.

"It's time I returned you," he murmured, his voice husky in a pleasing way that sent a shiver down Christine's spine. Reluctance was apparent in his shining eyes, but his expression brooked no negotiation, so she could not but agree.

There was but one thing that Erik needed to attend to before they began the lengthy trek back to the dormitory.

"Christine, pray, excuse me for a moment. Make yourself comfortable," he indicated the bench. "I won't be long."

"Of course."

Christine sat as he went up the steps that led to his bedroom, she assumed to use the lavatory.

About half a minute had passed after he disappeared into his boudoir, when Christine stood again, feeling too effervescent to sit still on the bench. She wandered over to a music stand and glanced at the sheets on it: original compositions, some incomplete. She didn't want to touch those. She had a notion that artists didn't like their works-in-progress to be perused uninvited. Then her gaze slid over to the faded gold and red curtains between the platform and the steps to the bedroom.

This was the one difference she'd noticed upon her arrival that evening: the curtain was drawn over that alcove. For a moment she considered wandering over to examine the gown; but, as it was covered, she dismissed the idea—she had sworn off trespassing; it would be better if she asked him to show it to her again some other evening. They had many before them. She decided instead to examine his organ in greater detail.

Several minutes passed and Christine realized Erik had been gone quite a long while. She was beginning to wonder if he would be much longer, and went to the steps, stretching her neck to see if he was coming. As she did so, she caught sight of something she had not noticed before.

On the high platform beyond his bedroom, there sat, what could only be described as, a throne; ornately carved and gilded, with sumptuous cushions of darkest red velvet*.

Christine felt a little burst of mirth as she recalled what he had said on that first night, about bringing her "to the seat of sweet Music's throne." She had thought he was being entirely metaphorical; merely poetic. Now, however, she could see that his sense of grandeur had a far more literal bent.

She visualised him sitting there broodingly, on the grand chair hidden in its dark corner, and her amusement suddenly drained from her. It was all too easy to imagine that he'd occupied it in that attitude often over the last several months, and the vision weighted her heart with regret and empathy for his misery.

Misery, she reminded herself as she sank onto the organ bench again, that she had compounded with her cowardice.

Just then, Christine heard his footsteps on the flagstones and tried to rearrange her features into a happier expression. She thought of the kiss they had just shared; the joy with which his tenderness had filled her, and the satisfaction and comfort her alacrity seemed to have given him. She recalled his excitement, his pride, his smile as he extolled her during their lesson, and the shadows that pricked her conscience, for the moment, receded.

By the time he reached her she was (almost) all ease and smiles. Seeing the light in his eyes, glittering like blue topaz as he beheld her, solaced her still further, yet she thought he looked a little flushed. Christine attributed this to residual excitement from the evening's achievements and thought no more of it.

"I apologise for taking so long," he said, as he retrieved his jacket and pulled it on. Once done, he offered Christine his hand.

Her lips stretched into a lovely, almost bashful little smile as he did this, and Erik felt himself smile in kind. She grasped his outstretched hand and followed him down the steps.

He assisted her in boarding the little gondola, then swept his cloak around his shoulders and tugged his gloves on, the creaking of the leather as he flexed his fingers audible even from where Christine was sitting. It was a pleasant sound, she thought.

Erik stepped lithely into the boat and Christine settled into a comfortable huddle on the pillows at his feet as he pushed away from the shore.

As the boat sailed out of the cavern, Christine turned and peered around the curtain of his cloak, back at the lair, excited to think that she would be coming back here again the next night. And the night after that... and, she hoped, perhaps every night for the foreseeable future.

~~~ Author's Notes

[erigold13261]

How did Neonova get together in the FRAU?

Both Neon and Nova are underappreciated in this AU, and I can somehow see the two ending up in a bar together to drink or literally Neon offers Nova to come over for a drink since Nova is one of the nicer NSRtists to him (which is saying something considering DJ is still not the nicest guy in the AU).

Somehow the two end up together and just talk. They talk about music and tech at first, mainly sticking to safe topics while also getting pretty drunk. Neon always makes sure DJ gets home safely and that they never have an event the next day, so DJ gets really attached to this new outlet in life.

Both of them figure out they enjoy each other's company and continue to see each other. Again they mainly talk about work-related things, until one day Tatiana came up in the conversation and both released their frustration of her never listening to either of them. They then ripped into a bunch of the other artists for their own faults, and even Neon complained about 1010 and how sick he is of them always being like little puppies following him around.

Which led into conversations about why Neon couldn't get attached to them. Talking about his ex-wife and his children, his home and marriage falling apart. It would be one of the first times Neon truly opened up to DJ because before it was all DJ doing most of the talking (which Neon preferred because he wanted to actually listen to someone talk since 1010 doesn't really talk to him).

The two were just becoming better and better friends, even allowing Neon to lessen his drinking a bit as he wanted to enjoy DJ's company more while sober. And DJ also ended up drinking less until the two would end up having some hang out sessions without drinks involved at all, letting them just fully enjoy each other's company and minds without any kind of interference.

After the failed revolution though, Neon became more reclusive. But instead of letting the friendship die like DJ usually would, they instead put in effort to find out what was wrong with Neon. And they found out what truly happened the night the revolution failed (no one had really told him when he got back from space) and how everyone was treating 1010 and Neon. Reminding Nova of their childhood being tormented just because he wasn't fully human.

So Nova decided to help Neon make a new contract that would get 1010 out of NSR. The two started spending more time with each other than they did before the revolution. Talking more about the future instead of the past. They started making plans to visit each other often, then turned that into moving in together, which then turned into promises of moving away and starting a new life.

As this was happening Nova wasn't making much good music or performing much, which they were supposed to do to make up for Sayu and 1010 being put on restrictive schedules. This would wind up in Nova quitting or getting fired.

I don't know which, but either way he had some pretty nasty things to say to everyone when he left. And they made sure to say some stuff about Neon and 1010 so the 6 wouldn't get outed if he just left them out of his burst of anger, which he did apologize for when he went over to Barraca Mansion later.

Neon offered DJ to stay at Barraca Mansion more often to help with the contract but also to support DJ since they didn't have a job anymore and to just stay close to them. Which Nova did end up rejecting at the time only because it would look suspicious if he just moved in immediately, but over the course of a year DJ did end up moving in to Barraca Mansion as they continued to find some kind of loophole or exploit in the NSR contract that will guarantee 1010's safe release.

Nova and Neon found hope in each other. They were both in shitty positions hoping for someone to listen to them and found that in one another. They grew closer until they finally realized that they had both fallen in love, and by that point both were ready to give up the lives they have now to start over as a family.

[slightlytoastedbagel]

Ok, I love the April Fools' swap units a lot. We get to see dynamics that are either less focused on or haven't gotten any content at all, and it's cool to see characters who don't really have a reason to interact hanging out in a universe where things went a bit differently.

But Fantasista Squad just doesn't do it for me. It feels forced and like they just took the bare bones of Tsukasa's story, put it in the Vivid Bad Squad setting, and threw Rui and Akito in just for the sake of it. (Toya still has a reason to be in the vbs equivalent. If we go off the fact Rad Weekend seemingly never happened here, Akito has no motivation, but Toya still wants to go against his dad.) Plus, it all just feels like a lazy attempt to justify the Ifuudoudou cover for April Fools.

Anyway this is essentially just a long winded way of saying that I have spent the last hour thinking of a way to split these guys up which makes sense, and now I'm sharing what I came up with.

(This does not affect the wxs and n25 equivalents because I love both of those groups to death, and I found I liked my ideas for alternative members for Aoharu/Friends and YUME YUME JUMP! more.)

Aoharu/Friends: Akito swaps with Airi

Ok, so originally, Saki invites Airi to join because she looked up to her while in the hospital. Saki does still invite her, but she has to decline due to her trying out street music with an old acquaintance's sister. Airi does, however, point Saki in the direction of a potential drummer. Ena gave up on art after dropping out of the art school led by her father's old friend when she hit a slump. Shortly before this, however, her younger brother Akito had dropped out of his school soccer team for feeling like he would never be able to put in the effort needed. To take his mind off of things, she dragged him to the summer festival and they watched the concert there.

Akito fell in love with music and convinced their mother to get him a bass guitar. When Ena dropped out of the art school, Akito attempted to play her a song to cheer her up like the festival cheered himself up. Ena could only smile from her brother's attempt, and she began to drum along on whatever she could find. When their mother saw, she got Ena a drum kit for her next birthday. (No, I didn't fix the Shinonome household. Their dad would just probably not care as much since it isn't art Ena is pursuing.) Saki searches out Ena from Airi's advice and finds the siblings having a makeshift performance in a park. She approaches with a request to join their band. Both are sceptical until Saki mentions Airi, then Ena is on board and drags Akito in.

Akito is still a perfectionist, and Ena still feels like she isn't doing enough at times, and the siblings still banter a lot, but overall, they get along much better, and Ichika and Saki find it entertaining. There is still the bit of Ena not wanting to disappoint her underclassmen. Akito is the one that mostly pushes them in practice.

YUME YUME JUMP!: Tsukasa swaps with Shiho

I was originally going to have it be An swapping with Tsukasa, but I decided against it. Tsukasa aims to be a world star. However, his most recent auditions have all been for bust. As he left Phoenix Wonderland with another rejection (because he probably wouldn't have gotten the job if it wasn't for Emu, I think), he walked into Shizuku. The pair catch up since they hadn't seen each other since middle school before Shizuku joined Cheerful*Days, and Tsukasa learns that Shizuku had quit and joined a different agency.

This leads Shizuku to mention they were looking for potential temporary members, and the next thing you know, Tsukasa has joined an idol group. Joining the pair is An Shirashi, the daughter of a (retired) popular street musician who instead took more interest in idol work and was delighted to hear of a possible temporary job and Kanade Yoisaki, the would-be composer for YUME YUME who got convinced to join the temporary members.

Tsukasa, An, and Shizuku are all ready to hype up Kanade whenever it is necessary. She isn't used to getting out much, and she needs stamina. In return, Kanade is inspired by them to write her new music. Tsukasa finds he loves idol work and considers it a possible way to become a star.

The new Vivid Bad Squad equivalent: Push-On Technique (Shiho, Airi, Toya, and Rui)

Toya Aoyagi was sick of classical music, so one day, he ran outside, bought a bunch of street fashion, and began to perform in a corner of Vivid Street. One day, he runs into fellow street performer Rui Kamishiro. Unlike Toya, Rui focuses more on telling stories. However, the two take an interest in each other and form Unruly Technique, a duo who tells stories through street music.

Meanwhile, Shiho Hinomori falls into the street music scene while wandering the streets alone after school. She had stumbled into a live house and had been offered a job there, which led to her listening to the performers and wanting to do something similar. Vivid Street quickly falls in love with her. She hears of another upcoming performer, Happy Everyday, who seemingly got her name from a certain ex-TV celebrity. Shiho learns that this IS the Airi Momoi, aka Happy Everyday, and the two team up as Push-On, a duo who will continue to pursue what they love, even in a different form.

These two duos come together after facing against each other in an event and hitting it off. They decide to form a quartet with Toya as the unofficial leader. As mentioned, Rad Weekend never happened. Ken is still a big figure in the scene, however, and his cafe is a frequent stop for the group.

[0809sysblings]

5 6 8 11 16 for milgram oc ask game:3

🎉🎉🎉🎉!! YIPPEE

5. If they're voted guilty how does their attitude change?

hrmm.. after his trial 1 guilty verdict he'd put a little less effort into trying to be so polite and amicable (but his manner of speech would still be weirdly polite because that's just the way he naturally talks lmao). he'd just be Tired with everything and it would definitely show through him being more curt and apathetic.

and due to the nature of what the voices would be saying, he'd be very frustrated with the things they're saying and assuming about him (similar to Yuno). he'd try to show them that they are Wrong by being more cold and not filtering his thoughts/speech so much.

6. If they're voted innocent how does their attitude change?

after his trial 2 innocent verdict he'd be a little confused MFKDFLD. but his attitude change from his trial 1 guilty verdict wouldn't revert back to what it was before. in fact he'd probably be getting even more frustrated for the same reasons he was getting frustrated post trial 1. but this time with some Inner Turmoil And Conflict added in about what's being said by the voices.

8. What do the voices of the outside world tell them?

there'd be a lot of voices talking about stuff like him being desperate for attention and love but the way he was going about it was very wrong and fucked up. stuff that would be assuming his motive and story was similar to Haruka's (spoiler: it's not similar at all).

11. What reoccurring themes present themselves throughout their music videos?

a Lot of things that would be used as symbolism for dehumanization and being controlled: wild animals, dolls, tools, weapons, cages, chains...

16. Do you have any minigram plots for them?

thought i was gonna have a lot of trouble trying to come up with something but it actually came pretty easy! thank you divine intuition.

i dont have anything super specific i guess but i am imagining a minigram episode thats basically like. one of the other prisoners seeing him working on folding some little origami piece and theyre like "wow!!! can you make me one!!??" and hes like "oh yeah sure". then another prisoner sees them and asks what theyre doing. and once again "wow can you make me one too!!!!??". until eventually every other prisoner has done this and at the end after finishing the last one he's like "... there goes all my good paper..." orz.

TY FOR THE ASK!!! 🎉🎉

[fizzingwizard]

more self-reflection

It's funny-not-funny how much you just don't know at twenty. Whenever I think of couples who get married at that age, or even younger, (or couples where only one member is young), I just think of everything they don't know yet which could have had a material influence on their choices.

My college boyfriend knew from the start that I planned to move to Japan after graduating. He had just come back from the same ALT job I was applying for. At first he was fine with it. Then, once I was accepted, he started dropping hints that he wished I loved him enough to stay. I won't say he was pushy about it - he wasn't. But still, in my position, it made me feel selfish. Selfish for taking the job that been my goal for four years, and living in the country I'd dreamed of for much longer. If my desire had been any less, I might have been influenced. His experience was, he'd done long distance before, and his then-girlfriend had cheated on him. So he didn't want to do it again. I didn't like the implication that I'd cheat if were long distance, but I respected the pain he'd endured. So when he decided we should break up instead, I accepted it.

The thing is, he chose to break up with me on the day of my last concert in my college ensemble. Our group only did one concert a year. I always wished it was more, but we were all amateurs and playing non-western instruments so... basically we just sucked until that end of the year concert haha. So it was a once a year deal, and it was my senior year, so it was the last concert for me, period. And this is when my boyfriend decided to break up with me.

At twenty-one years old, I defended him. First off, just because a concert is important to me, doesn't mean everyone else understands that. To most people it's just another day. Some silly music played by students who don't really know what they're doing anyway.

And my boyfriend lived about an hour away. So I thought, he chose to do it on the concert day because he was already coming out this way, and he had the decency to break up face to face. It would be expecting too much for him to drive out an hour some other random day just to break up and go back home.

But it's been ten plus years since then. My current boyfriend also lives about an hour from me. And I would absolutely make that trip, if I were going to break up with him, rather than think "He has a DnD game on Friday I'm going to, I'll just do it then." What, and risk ruining DnD for him? "It's not like it's Christmas or anything." So? He loves DnD. He puts effort into DMing. He's expecting fun and happiness when he plays.

If I were going to break up with him, yeah, I'd do it face to face. But I'd go on my own time to do it. And I'd warn him in advance that I was coming for a difficult conversation - I wouldn't just spring it on him once DnD was over and he was all happy and full of stories from the session. Which is how I was, super charged from playing in my last concert, and really just wanting to talk about it and have a good time with my boyfriend. I defended him for years, the trip was too long, breaking up is too difficult. But actually the trip's not too long because breaking up is difficult. I do appreciate him doing it face to face, and I appreciate that he was young too (24) and inexperience affects us all.

But I do wish I hadn't felt selfish for so long, just for wishing he hadn't broken up with me on the day of my concert. Because I wasn't being selfish, and he should have picked another day.

In the scheme of things, my experience was a very tame one. No shouting, no aggression, we were both mostly rational the whole time. But to me, all that does is highlight the fact that, if such a tame experience could still have been handled better had we been wiser, how many people in more complex situations are in need of wisdom so much more? If you find a great person at twenty who stays great decades after, you're lucky. Nothing can replace life experience. I hate that, biologically, our bodies want us to start reproducing as young as possible - but mentally we're not ready still for years, and even longer, if you want to wait and experience the world so you gain that wisdom to understand people and respect both them and yourself first.

[eldritch-nightmare]

Hello! I go by 🎀 anon! I’d like to do a match up, if that’s okay! I’m a latino afab and genderfluid (they/them) in my 20s! 5’4 height, medium length dark brown hair with a shaggy mullet type of haircut (hoping to at least have magenta highlights if work allows it </3), brown eyes, mid-sized body type, a INFP MBTI type, and my star sign is a Taurus. Also am autistic and have ADHD! I’m a pan disaster but fictionally I lean towards male characters! 🤣

I LOVE art and animation! I do digital art as a hobby and hope to sell as a side job some day! I have a special interest for horror, especially indie horror gaming! I also love trying different culture foods, even if I’m biased in my puerto rican roots. I always make effort to seek other cultural meals and learn how to eat them properly and know it’s history because… I love food and making food. 🫡 Speaking of! My love language is making someone meals, buying them gifts and making them art! <3

Ah, not sure if it matters, but I wear a lot of cutesy pastel pink clothes (bonus if they’re strawberry themed) as well as very goth and punk clothing depending on my mood! Which is always funny whenever I wear very gothic outfits, people look so shocked when they see my room LMAO. I love a variety of music including nu metal, goth rock, game soundtracks, chill lo-fi sounding music (Like the kind you hear in Bee and Puppycat! Which is actually my comfort show…). It fluctuates depending the mood LOL. (It’s… quite a mix.) While I’m introverted, I do like going out and interacting with others when having the energy to do so! I tend to ramble a lot though and always fear to seem annoying, then regret later for going on for too long so expect a lot of apologizing for that. 😭

Kinda like now actually LOL, apologies if this is too long! Not sure how much to put in, but hope you have a good day! Take your time to answer, no rush! Appreciate it, thank you! qvq

can i just say you sound so cool?? like?? hello?? your taste in music is literally superb?? but don't worry, this wasn't too long, so no need to apologize <3 i hope your work allows you to get magenta highlights!!

your matchup is... the bloody painter! and it's not because of the art thing, trust me on this okay, just hear me out for a moment. while, yes, you and helen both enjoy art, helen is also really big on horror and the whole goth subculture. while he doesn't dress the part, you will catch him listening to the music and digesting both the art and literature. so. trust me.

helen is pretty reserved and not one to let people close to him but once you break the ice and get past his apathetic exterior, you'll find that he's actually pretty... i wouldn't say he's open once you get to know him, but it's fairly obvious that he'll become less reserved around you, and he'll actually show that he cares about you. does that make sense?

moving on, helen doesn't give food a lot of thought, to be honest. he likes what he likes, and he hates what he hates. he would be a terrible food critic. he does, however, know and understand that cooking is an art, and he has nothing but respect for you and your talents and is 100% willing to be a taste tester for you if you ever need one. he quite enjoys your cooking, if we're being honest, and you have introduced him to a wide variety of different foods from different cultures and he just... loves seeing you enjoy yourself.

now going on to art, because this is helen and it's unavoidable. helen is more of a traditional artist, so digital art isn't his area of expertise, but he would absolutely love to see any and all of your drawings. you two could even draw together! and he has like numerous sketchbooks just full to the brim of sketches and fully-fledged out pieces if you ever want to see them. he loves sharing his own art as well. and, if you give him permission, he'll probably incorporate you into his art. he'll sketch you or add you into the background of one of his paintings. art is his love language, and he would love to involve you in it.

helen doesn't give gifts often, mostly because it's not something that crosses his mind, but sometimes he'll be out and about, and he'll see something. something strawberry-themed or an accessory that would look good with your goth or punk clothing. and, of course, the only natural thing to do is to buy it and gift it to you. so, every once in a while, he'll just hand you a random gift with no real explanation other than a shrug or 'i saw it and thought about you.'

and if you start rambling to him about a certain topic that has caught your interest, or about your day-to-day life in general, helen will silently listen to you. he likes listening to you ramble, especially when he's mindlessly sketching something. and should you apologize for rambling too much, he'll just momentarily meet your gaze and say, 'don't apologize. i like the sound of your voice.' before directing his attention back to whatever he was sketching.

any and all information you give him about the things you like and dislike will be neatly tucked away into a corner of his mind. he's the type to remember everything you tell him, even the minor things. you're a very important part of his life, and he does everything he can to make sure you know that.

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary25

9/29-30/2023

late night, tonight.

i was out super late after this very bad poetry reading here for some of these creative writing majors. i don't have a lot to say about it, it was bad and the writers make some people close to me miserable because they fail at being kind basically. kind in a real way, the kindness that lets you have some give for meanness when you actually articulate/show effort put towards anyone else, people who are utterly shallow, you know. i believe it must be the case that we all know of people like that essentially.

i didn't get to work on music today really, that's kind of good, tomorrow i will try to write some stuff, i did work on music actually i guess, i wrote a riff, and i'll see where that can take me, or less writing the riff, i wrote some chords to mess with. a fun shape that has a good sound, disso and freaky when inverted.

anyways tonight was good, or like, half good. it's given me a lot to think about, with people who do certain things (like 'ethical' nonmonogamy and if that can exist when the presupposition is monogamy in the first place). i met new people who i like, who are really nice and fun to be around, who got drunk and told me dirt about some old people i knew. or really, one person. that doofus from the noise band, actually. i don't mind saying that. i won't discuss the dirt. it just kind of makes me feel something sad, about people like that, and i guess at large people who in some sense resemble the poets, shallow engagement and deeply troubled ideas of what being an artist means leading to difficult lives, miseries that begin loud and only grow quieter, never actually dissipating.

my gf really wanted to take me to this, the reading and the afterparty, she and a friend really wanted to hear my thoughts on these people because supposedly i'm very funny about that kind of thing, she forgot i guess the bore of the poetry, and the fact that as time goes on, the ruin of these lives is exposed more and more, rich (really i don't actually know, it's the impression i get) developing bad habits and using people, and the drama, while never uninteresting to someone like me (maybe it makes me evil to want to hear), is always sad.

sometimes i am like a child and i just wish everyone could be okay and fine, i'd sometimes light myself on fire to make that possible, but someone i used to be obsessed with told me that me wanting to be jesus or buddha (he said both) so bad wouldn't do anything for anyone except feed how badly i like to see myself hurt. he's right. i guess that's what knowing things does too.

maybe my whole life i'm just going to be hurting myself in new ways.

so i made 3 new friends, or 4, let me count, yeah, 4, i think. and i actually saw 2 friends i knew before tonight, and i was with my one girl friend. so 7 people, i'm gonna see some tomorrow at a gay bar to see a drag show, super exciting stuff. hopefully there won't be any pangs of sadness over the fact we are living in hell sort of.

i guess everybody has really unpleasant fascinations sometimes.

one conversation tonight, one of the new friends told me about her research topic, modern apocalyptic media and its convergence with evangelical christianity, just talking about all that stuff and its evolving state, the dwindling numbers of evangelicals and their panic, her past, and stuff. i liked that. i liked all of tonight, even the sadder parts.

i'm listening to the song theory on sex as an art form, by camera obscura, on repeat. a really great track, it's just so perfect, i love the synth-y punky part especially, but i guess it's also perfect next to a perfect melodic release, this movement that recalls something tumbling downhill, or leaves off petals, while the first part is this total mania.

anyways i am exhausted now, and tomorrow is another day of socializing and stuff.

had an awful thought, or not awful, i dunno. someone posted the song absent friend by bark psychosis, a song that takes me to two specific moments in my life. one was when i'd listen to this song, thinking about the man i loved who would disappear without a word because he was awful, and i'd lay in bed without anyone to talk to, and the second place, is years later, when a friend who loved this record to bits, killed himself, and the song was so pointed, it felt like it said something. the night i found out i walked around and listened to this song.

both times, the lyric "that's the biggest joke of all" took on pretty different meanings. right now it means something else i guess.

the awful thought was about my dead friend rather than the friend who is dead to me. my dead friend, the thought was: the most meaningful thing he'd ever do for himself was kill his own self, that's where all the force of his life would end up, and missing him, and not wanting to forget him and wanting other people to know him, all i am left being able to do is revive the corpse he made of himself and tell others, this is what he did, this is his monument and it's an awful one but it is his. i don't know what else to say about it, i'm staving off the wish to tell a stranger in a server about him because they posted this song, all i can say is i guess, beautiful song, one of the best ever, and they won't know how much i mean that. maybe i mean it less because it means such particular things to me, and rather than thinking it's the best song ever, it's just clusters of memory and feeling forever tied to it. whatever, though, that's fine.

anyways, byebye!!!

[iamnotawomanimagod]

Am I the only one who's sick of hearing about h's beauty brand? It was exciting at first but... the videos on H's YouTube channel instead of af's?? It's become her entire online presence. And the iichliwp tour ended so quickly.

I can see why you feel that way, for sure. I'm not super bothered by it - I don't wear makeup anymore so I've been more or less ignoring AF94 and About-Face since it all began. I think it makes sense they would put the advertisements where more people are likely to see them, but it does kinda make me wonder why they made AF its' own channel in the first place.

I was also surprised that there weren't really any international tour dates for the Love and Power tour. There were a handful, but definitely nowhere near what I expected. I honestly think their label might've limited what they were allowed to do.

Let's be real - the IICHLIWP film was not a cheap project, it likely didn't make the money back, and IICHLIWP itself underperformed and hasn't gotten anywhere near the attention or praise that their previous albums had (which is a goddamn shame.) So I wouldn't be surprised if the label vetoed a longer tour with more international stops.

So, music-wise, maybe things will be different moving forward. I bet she has more freedom now and will hopefully be able to work on music projects without worrying so much about making her label happy.

And, of course, this doesn't even touch her personal life - going through a recent breakup with the father of their child, dealing with her health issues, and I'm sure a million other obstacles and challenges that we're not aware of.

I think, in the meantime, during this weird transitory period, they're putting a lot of effort into a thing that is making them money and they have a lot more control over than they've had (especially recently) over their music career. And maybe getting money from AF/AF94 will fund future music projects - more album films, longer tours, better music videos...

All of that rambling to say - I can definitely see why you're bothered, but I also see why H is making the decisions she is right now.