#the pull is strong though

[geryone]

[egophiliac]

I love how you draw Grim the size of a small cat. It genuinely blows my mind that according to the game he's actually approximately 70 cm tall... Like, Ortho is 148 cm. That's only two Grims! If Grim stands on Ortho's head, they'd be just a bit taller than Malleus (who is 202 cm and I'm not sure that's counting the horns)! The proportions are just so wild to try to imagine realistically... (and I do like the small cat Grim take more, it's very endearing)

every time I remember Grim is actually supposed to be the size of, like, a medium-to-largeish dog, and then I just...draw him cat-sized anyway. I also think it's cuter that way! 🤷 (let's just say he's not allowed to ride the servant unless he takes the shrinking potion first.)

ultimately I figure we all get a little artistic license in our fanart, and mine are:

cat-sized Grim

Lilia with hair spikes up to the heavens

w i d e Silver

[spotaus]

*A thick, stagnant fog blankets the ground in Waterfall. It moves nearly as much as the lazy god (which is not much at all).

[ilivelikeimtrying]

I have an angsty idea (just a bit angsty) with Ballister and Ambrosius having Rose. Like, Ballister’s mother died bringing him into the world, and the same thing almost happened to Ambrosius.

I'm also bringing the "Ambrosius is bad at remembering his allergies" headcanon into this and he did know that his family has a history of complications with this stuff and so ever since they invented the technology no one in the Goldenloin line has ever had a natural birth and all that but he absolutely forgets to tell Ballister until way after (ADHD and baby brain).

Like, Ballister hears that from the nurses, and when Ambrosius wakes up, he's like, "Am, is there something you maybe forgot to tell me? Like how your family has a history of complications?" And instead of being sheepish or sorry, he's like ".... OH SHIT! THAT'S WHAT I WAS SUPPOSED TO TELL YOU!"

Like, his got fluids and a bunch of wires attached to him, pale and exhausted even though he was out for about a week and he's looking at Ballister with the most innocent expression of "Oops, I forgot".

[fullmetal-scar-simping]

Truly wish mangahood fans would just tell first time Brotherhood watchers to read the manga first to get all the context they need to make Brotherhood suck 1% less, instead of suggesting the broke-ass, tired "watch 03 until it diverges" nonsense.

These continuities do not line up. They do not click into each other. The characters in 03 are fundamentally different from mangahood, the events of fma 03 from episode 1 are fundamentally different to !the manga! let alone to Brotherhood. The way alchemy itself works is fundamentally different and that's pretty obvious when you compare mangahood and 03! So how are you going to funnel newbies into mangahood by feeding them half of 03?

I know we're all hoping new fans are as incapable of engaging with what they're actually watching as most existing fma fans, but it would make far more sense to prepare them by having them actually read the source material that Brotherhood is actually adapting, not an anime that Brotherhood has nothing to do with.

[megamagimugi]

I was listening to different Mario voice clips, planning for a small fan animation project I may or may not be starting in the near future. I've already got an idea for it, have had it for a while. It's mostly silly, kind of cute, maybe a little funny.

So why in the world did I keep getting angsty ideas while I was listening to these voice clips?💀 Why am I like this?

HELP.

[eliseliedl]

this is a hate crime against me specifically

[jester-party]

“Oh yeah I’m gonna save up for Blade and Lingsha cause-“ *Anaxa lore and gameplay hitting me with the force of a freight train* “okay so maybe I’ll postpone the saving and get Anaxa first”

[tohruies]

good day, my precious superstars! 🌟💐 i hope your days and nights wherever you are in the world will be filled with lots of love that manifests in even the smallest most mundane of ways ♡ there is a pot of chai waiting for you on my stove, so i shall pour you a mug if you’re willing and over it we can share dreams and secrets and lots of fantastical stories 🤗 smooching you~

[spotaus]

New Age AU (Cross' Spy Adventures)

Hi guys! I'm back! This one has been eating at me so forgive me if it's a bit rougher than the others, but I hope you still enjoy! (And if plot details don't seem to line up? Remember Cross has no clue what's going on yet :] )

Context: Cross has been asked by Dream to do recover information on his brother's next plans of attack. He's not a very good spy.

(Hi to @ancha-aus @papiliovolens and @mutzelputz !!!)

Stars this place was big.

He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be on a castle grounds after so many years roughing it with Ink. Inns and taverns and tents. He wasn't sure how much he enjoyed being back in the throes of the rich and powerful's estates.

The cart-ride with the other new recruits had been pleasant enough, they were all decently friendly guys. A few were putting on that tough-guy facade, but none of them could've been older than 25. Fresh off the press, practically. Perfect soldiers to be brainwashed.

Cross had laughed and joked with them about what life in the castle might be like. How different it would be from the old daily grind. How maybe they'd pick up a hot partner in town on their patrols. How they hoped they'd eat like kings.

Though, Cross noticed that each of them got cagey when word of the King resurfaced. One birdish-monster mourned that she couldn't have served the last King, Nim, before she passed on to join the gods. Another spoke of the honor it would bring for him to serve the blood of Nim.

They seemed averse to even acknowledging King Nightmare's existence. Aside from his connection to Nim.

Now, the chatter was all silent, and Cross was among the many new soldiers who were ogling the castle as they passed around its outer wall and entered through a side gate.

It was, admittedly, impressive.

His own home kingdom had less of a castle, more of a monolith. It had been dense, and tall, and impossibly smooth. His father couldn't stand imperfection.

This castle was almost the exact opposite of what Cross had always known. The walls imperfect and overlapping, rather than brick it looked like it had burst straight up from the ground. Bumpy and imperfect and natural, and yet beautiful and structurally stable. He didn't linger on it, but he wanted to so badly.

Instead, he drew his attention ahead. To where a man stood, his armor decorated in the marks which indicated him as a reporting officer.

This man, a human with a crooked nose and a thick, black, beard held up a hand, and the driver of the cart tugged at his reigns, the horses pulling to a slow stop.

One by one, once given the signal, the soldiers filed out. Stating their rank, their camp of origin, and their name.

Cross was middle of the pack, and saluted the human as Dream had taught him and as everyone had done before him.

"1st Year Guard, Pierson Camp, Z." He reported.

He was not proud of his code-name. It physically hurt to say it with a straight face, but when he'd been talking about needing a new code name, Ink had excitedly suggested it.

Z, he'd said, Like 'X' but not! And Cross hadn't been able to shut the idea down when Dream had giggled and tapped his cheekbone, the spot just under his eyelight that held is scar.

Dream had called it fitting, and it'd been settled in a heartbeat.

Cross managed to say it aloud without any hint of suspicion and was waved off to join his fellow recruits.

They lined up haphazardly, but didn't dare to do more than grin and snicker between eachother at. Well. Anything, it seemed. They were taking this very casually compared to what Cross had been expecting.

Though, the moment the captain was done looking to the cart for any stragglers, he turned. The soldiers all went still and aligned themselves.

Cross wondered how they survived training if they goofed off like that so readily.

He watched as the cart which had brought them circled away, and he listened carefully as the man introduced himself.

"I am Captain Rogers. Your platoon will report to me for any and all management. I control your training schedules, your mealtimes, and your work hours." He called out to them, right there on the lawn "you are here today to serve the blood of the gods, and by Nim's watch you will not slack on your oath. No matter how much you loathe it here. Understood?"

Such a bold declaration of... unrest.

The soldiers, one by one, gave affirmative nods and salutes, Cross making sure he wasn't the first. He didn't want to seem too eager.

The captain led them about.

He asked for them to stay in formation, and Cross ended up towards the middle of the pack yet again, just close enough to hear the explanations of their duties, places on the grounds they were allowed to go, and what their daily routine was meant to be like.

Near the stables, they paused briefly, and the Captain was taking an extra long time explaining that the horses in the stables were not to be ridden without explicate orders from him or another commanding officer.

Cross couldn't help but notice the guys ahead of him whispering about something, and Cross followed their miniscule gestures off to the left.

A black cat, wirey and short-hair. It was standing in the shadow of a fence, and he didn't think he would've spotted it if it weren't for its big, green eyes. They were like little saucers in its head.

It was staring straight at him. Tail flicking. One ear twitched.

Cross tried to ignore it, but when he'd glance back, it was still there.

Until, suddenly, it wasn't.

By the time they moved on, it was nowhere in sight.

His old home hadn't had many animals, especially not roaming cats. He wondered if it was a 'barn cat'. Blue had explained the concept to him once.

Regardless, that thing was freaky.

Finally, after what felt like hours of walking, the Captain announced that their last stop of the night would be to their quarters.

He could practically feel the relief rolling off of the guys next to him, and it took am effort to let his shoulders sag even an inch in imitation. The guy next to him looked like he might fall over, and Cross shared none of that exhaustion.

They would start their assignments bright and early in the morning, each of them would have a more experienced guard join them as a guiding measure before they were left to the duties themselves.

A much kinder grace period than Cross had been expecting, honestly.

The Captain escorted them down the halls, long and twisting. Each one held soldiers out of uniform, turning in for the night, going through their routines. As well as some moving out for the night shift. They ignored the rookies as they kept to their own business.

The Captain swung a door open, only to immediately block the soldiers in front from entering the space of relaxation beyond.

"Ah, Ccino, I was worried we'd missed you." The Captain spoke up.

"Soldiers, back up. Stand at attention." Came an order next.

Cross was faster than the others in recognizing the order, but forced himself to wait until the others stumbled into him to start moving. He wasn't sure why they were getting into this stance, but he knew better than to start asking questions.

They all stood in the hall, and Cross caught a few snickers from nearby lounging guards as the rookies stood there.

"The King called upon me, so I wasn't able to meet you where we had planned," a softer, calm, voice rang, "I figured I would run into you here before you turned in for your first night."

The Captain stood before them, and beside him, exiting the barracks, was a monster.

Cross tried not to stare, but he couldn't deny that this was odd. He'd never known a captain to bend to anyone but a higher up. But...

This skeleton was dressed in a servant's uniform. Granted, it was made of a thick, soft-looking brown and tan fabric, with an apron with more embroidery than he thought he'd ever seen in his life, but it was nothing too out of place.

Surely it wasn't a Knight. No, he'd been told they wore masks. He could tell this skeleton was not a Knight. He could see the full skull, soft and gentle, calm eyelights, and a body Cross swore had never seen a single battle.

No. Cross, stop that.

He didn't tear his eyes away, but he forced himself to look back to the skeleton's shoulder. No eye-contact, but still facing him. Good.

"Soldiers, This is our Head of House, Ccino." The Captain gestured to the skeleton at his side.

The soldiers all remained silent, and the captain nodded.

"If Ccino ever gives you any sort of order, you listen." The Captain's voice was harsh with this, the same way he'd spoken about the horses, and the kitchen, and the private training rooms they'd passed. "No questions, no hesitation, no disobeying. You understand?"

The squint of the Captain's eyes were more than enough for Cross to know better than to ask. Something like this was unfamiliar, for sure, but he knew when a soldier was saying something he truly believed in. Lived by. For better or worse.

None of the other recruits seemed to speak up. Cross certainly didn't. He tried not to let his nerves show as this skeleton, Ccino, let's his soft white eyelights skim softly from one soldier to the next. When they came to him, he desperately avoided the gaze, practically staring a hole into the soft fur scarf wrapped around his neck, hiding his spine from view.

"It's a pleasure to meet all of you," That calm voice again, "As you heard, my name is Ccino. I manage the Castle, it's grounds, and the people who stay within our walls. This includes all if you, as of tonight."

He seemed rather put-together. Pleasant. Cross didn't feel any unease. He was positive, now, that this was not a Knight. Yet, he couldn't figure out why such a monster would be held in such high regard, unless, of course...

"As you heard, our King trusts my decisions regarding these matters, which is why he asks you listen to my requests. However, I don't abuse this privilege, and it shouldn't dissuade you from coming to me if you have any problems." Ccino pulled his arms to cross infront of him, and once again looked over the recruits. "You may be our guard, but that does not mean you shouldn't recieve help as well. If you cannot find me, ask another servant and they will get word to me."

Ccino seemed... kind. That had to be it.

The sparkle of admiration in the captain's eyes. The way some of the soldiers watched. Maybe Ccino was the golden light in this dark place? Though, that didn't seem quite right.

"Stick to your duties, remain diligent, and you will be cared for here." He said softly. "Now, stand down and go rest. Your training tomorrow will be thorough, and you will need the extra sleep."

Oh.

Cross recognized the order, and his body moved a bit before his mind could catch up. He relaxed, as much as he naturally could, and took a step. Toward the barracks. Then paused and glanced like a deer in the headlights to the Captain and the Head of House.

Ccino just smiled, and the Captain seemed stoic.

"Seems Z gets first dibs on the cots!" The Captain announced, and with his approval, humor seeping into his tone a bit, and laughter echoing from the older guard who'd been observing?

Cross made the quick duck into the room and grabbed for the first cot he saw. Bottom bunk, closest to the door, the easiest way he'd be able to leave the long room of bunk beds.

The others hurried in after him, some laughing, others cursing jokingly at Cross having noticed the test first.

The test.

Of course it'd been a test. A test to see if they'd recognize Ccino as an authority figure. A test to see if they took the warning seriously. Cross just listened to the superior officer. And... put himself in the limelight of excelling new recruits.

If there was one good thing, though it was mortifying, the others didn't seem to notice what it was. They were too busy teasing Cross for the grape blush that enveloped his face the moment he sat to think it over. The others assumed he'd just slipped up. Listened to the prettiest person in the room.

Once again, Cross wondered how they'd made it through training. Though, it was good they just thought he was a stupid lover boy. Better than them realizing he was following orders on instinct.

It'd been a hard sell, getting to sleep, but he'd managed somehow.

.

The morning was much easier than the night prior. He woke up before the sun, before a lot of the others even showed signs of stirring. It was good he got up so early, sneaking off probably wouldn't be much of an issue.

Tomorrow, then. He'd do his sneaking tomorrow, after he got a lay of the land today. From what they'd been told, he'd be supervised today. Everyone would. It was different from what the Prince had told him, but it didn't matter. Policies could change, and Cross knew better than to disobey new policies.

The castle inside felt like a maze yesterday, he'd hopefully have routes inside, so he'd be able to memorize at least a few escapes. Orient himself. Worst case he could break a window.

He didn't want to leave any trace, though. The best scenario, as Dream had explained it, was that he'd get in, get the information, and get out. A week, maybe a week and a half tops. Cross wanted to spend as little time here as possible. He didn't want to fall into whatever mind-control he'd been warned of. He didn't want to run into the Knights. He certainly didn't want to see Dream's twin.

Though, he was curious. What he looked like. If he could see the sibling resemblance between the Prince and his supposedly brainwashed ruler of a sibling. It was honestly none of his business. If the King never saw his face, that would be all the better. He shouldn't know Cross was ever here at all.

The thoughts swirled in hid head as he stared at the bottom of the cot above his. Wood slats, the whole thing was sturdy wood, with decent mattresses and blankets and pillows resting on its support. It didn't creak at all, which was good. And surprising. Everything in the castle seemed so nice.

Mm, must've been a thing for the people here. Serve the 'gods' and live in luxury. It certainly seemed that was how the Prince's camp had run as well.

Cross couldn't be sure how long he was awake, examining the room and sitting still, but the sun managed to rise into the sky by the time he'd heard the slamming knock on the door to the barracks.

It was easy for him. When the Captain swung the door wide open and announced, in a hardy shout, that they were to be in the hall in 5? Cross rolled out of bed the moment the door closed again.

It pained him to move so slowly. He couldn't be the first one out again. Couldn't be the first one dressed. He didn't know why it took so long for the others to change to their uniforms and rub the sleep from their eyes. Monsters and humans alike! They hustled, some of them, and Cross was grateful a cat monster seemed to gather herself more readily than the others. An orange striped cat, her nose and the tip of her tail a stark white. Cross only noticed her when she rushed for the door, and he let himself trail her a moment later.

Thinking back, she'd been at the back of the group yesterday, joking with some of the others. Cross wondered what the energy change was all about.

He didn't get time to worry about it, though. The hall outside the barracks was busier than it had been last night, and Cross found himself facing, not only the Captain, but also several guards. They each seemed to be in full uniform, different than Cross' or the cat's which marked them as trainees. They seemed stoic before their captain, and Cross almost felt a moment if relief. Maybe this was a decent show of artillery?

No, wait, strong soldiers would be bad for the Prince. He'd have to get through these guys.

He shook away the thought, listening in as he stood awkwardly in the hall, another recruit lumbering out to stand where he'd joined the cat already.

The Captain looked them over, before nodding.

"Harper, you're with Jenna." The Captain ordered, pointing from the cat before gesturing towards one of the guard directly behind him.

Cross tried not to let his eyelights give away his observance as the guard stepped around her captain. She seemed to be a bunny monster, lots of fur and long, floppy ears tied behind her head. She, Jenna, saluted the cat, Harper, and Harper saluted in return.

"Listen to what your mentor tells you, got it?" The Captain asked, and Cross saw a few others exiting as he said this.

Those who started moving down the hall, and the Capatin looked to Cross. It was a kick glance, one look-over, before he turned and looked over his shoulder.

"Z, you're with Shep." And a gesture guided Cross towards whoever his mentor for the day would be.

From nearly the back of the crowd, snaked a dog monster. Black and white, short-trimmed fur. His eyes were brown and intense, and after a moment Cross realized this guard was shorter than him. He didn't like that when Shep saluted, he had to peer down to salute back.

He hardly even registered that they were already moving off, not unlike the two before them had done, until he'd taken a few steps to follow this small royal guard.

"So, you're Z?" Shep asked him as they stopped a few halls away. This one was largely barren aside from a few servants. Along each wall hung a huge tapestry, woven out of heavy threads and hung by a long piece of metal along the top edge.

"Yes, sir." Cross responded shortly. Not giving himself a moment to stammer.

Shep looked at his quizzically, before he leaned forward and sniffed. Actually just sniffed at Cross. It was still a few inches away, they didn't make contact, but suddenly he worried he was stinky. He's bathed before hopping on the cart, and he hadn't been exercising much, surely-

"Ah, you're not from this Kingdom! Not originally, at least." Shep said then, leaning away just as quickly as he'd gotten close.

Cross blinked, and he was sure his skull didn't hide his shock as well as he'd hoped. "I can smell the pollen on you, newbie. We don't have those kinda plants in this kingdom." He explained, and Cross internally cursed himself. Would he have to run? Would he have to-

"You know, I'm not from this kingdom either, I was born to the west." Shep admitted then, easily, using a paw to gesture loosely at the space between them, "I bet we'll get along just fine, newbie. C'mon. I'll show you around your route."

Cross didn't even get a spare second to defend himself, or puzzle at why a foreign monster would choose to come here. Shep was already on his way, back turned and hurrying down the hall at a brisk pace.

"As far as I know You're gonna be taking over my old route, inner portion of the castle." Cross listened, but orders were his second nature. As they walked, he eyed the tapestries hung along the wall. Long and intense, and yet, there was a moment where Cross could see the colors were more faded and worn.

"You'll mostly just be patrolling, watching out for anything out of the ordinary, waiting to see if you're needed for any specific duties." The images showed monsters, humans, monsters again. Depictions of complex circles and red splashes dripping from weapons and hands. And he noticed a trend, eventually. These must've been the previous rulers. The past Kings.

"Your patrols will be alone, the rooms in the hall aren't too important, and it's mostly servants that pass through that way." Cross almost lost his rhythm as they drew to the end of the tapestry, though the hall kept moving. There on the tapestry was a depiction of two little skeletons, one which seemed strikingly similar to Prince Dream, even in his adulthood. Beyond, the tapestry simply stopped. It was odd that King Nightmare hadn't bothered to get it finished with his own visage. Maybe his puppetmaster was waiting to put himself there instead?

"Still important, anyways. The servants halls are the easiest ways in and out of the castle, so we can't slack off." They turned a corner, and Cross pried his eyes away from the tapestry and back before him.

They passed a few more halls, before Shep stopped dead in his tracks, and Cross reacted quickly, spotting the way he peaked around the next corner.

Across the way, Cross spotted that they'd run into another pair who had also stopped. Only when Shep saluted did Cross think to follow his lead.

From the hall he couldn't see, emerged a figure.

Cross kept his eyelights to the ground, but the steps, the shoes, the heavy cape, and especially the dark and slimey tendrils which snaked along in his wake? That was the King. The one Dream had been so particular about not running into at all.

Two sets of feet followed him. Closely. He didn't have to look up to recognize that they must've been Knights. The easy weight of their steps, how close they stuck behind the king, the weight of the one's magic? Surely. He didn't risk a glance until after Shep lifted his head again. Cross only caught a glimpse of a tiger mask turning another corner before the three figures were gone.

In the tense silence, Cross swore he could hear his soul beating. He wasn't sure if it was fear, or indignance, or something else, but he knew being so close to the King had not made him feel good. Dream had been right, something about that guy was wrong.

Shep glanced around, and his ear twitched, watching down the hall where they'd left to.

The group across from them was already moving, towards the hall Cross had just cone from.

"You know, you kids are lucky Newbie." Shep voiced then, eying up the human rookie who was passing by. "When I first joined the guard, the King cut my tail off to prove my loyalty."

He said it so easily that Cross was speechless. What did he mean? Was. His tail was docked, but...

"What?!" The panicked whisper came from the passing humans who had obviously been eavesdropping. He expressed the concern coating Cross's soul and freezing him in place.

"Yep. I heard he used it as a cat toy for the strays." Shep confirmed loosely.

"Shep." Came the snap of his name from the other trained guard, though they didn't move to deny his claim.

Cross hadn't heard anything about that from Dream. Of course, he also hadn't heard about this introduction process either. He was flying blindly here, and suddenly he feared for his limbs.

Shep simply shrugged and kept moving forward. Cross wanted, badly, to excuse himself right this moment and go back and claim he couldn't do it. But he was here now, and he had a Prince to help. And a whole lot of people relying on him to prevent more tragedies.

The training wasn't hard. Shep stood with him, made small-talk, told him all the tricks to ensure he knew when someone would switch off with him, and then they had lunch.

He hated to admit it, but the food was delicious. He hadn't had something so filling in... maybe ever. He couldn't put his finger on it, not quite, but for monster food, it felt solid. Warmer. He felt less hungry after, and a part of him wondered if that was how they did it. The mind control. Was it the food?

But, no, surely not. He was still set on his mission when he went right back to his rounds. The food was just... strangely good.

The rest of the rounds were easy. Simple. And there was at least an hour after where Shep willingly guided him through the rest of the building. At least, anywhere he could.

Cross noticed, once, that Shep broke a rule. He ducked into the kitchen. Returned to a surprised Cross with two pieces of bread and handed one to Cross before tearing into his own. Apparently, from what Shep said, the main kitchen wasn't off-limits. Not really. Just the private one.

He didn't ask about the difference, he wouldn't need to know, after all. He doubted plans of attack were stached in the cupboards of a pantry.

And just as swiftly as it had begun, it ended. Shep said he'd be around the training grounds tomorrow if Cross needed him, and released him to dinner. After Dinner, Cross went back to the barracks.

Many of the rookies were talking all about their routes, others complaining that they had gotten cleaning duties for being the last out of the barracks that morning. They'd start training tomorrow. Cross tried not to contribute much, but he liked listening in. Understanding more about the place. The people.

It sounded like the King had crossed quite a few of their paths as well, and they didn't seem happy about it. Discussing in hushed tones how weird the King was compared to the last. Dark, secretive, hardly even a ruler. Cruel. He heard the human from before shamelessly telling Shep's tail misfortune to the gathered group, who all seemed to be riled up by it, exchanging other horrible speculations.

He needed to get this information. He just... he couldn't do anything until the others were asleep. So. Morning it would be.

.

Cross was a coward.

He knew as much, deep down somewhere, but as he woke up early again, he thought through his plan. He didn't know where he'd find any of this information he needed, he didn't know anything beyond his own route. He didn't even know what he'd be finding. He'd know when he found it, he was sure, but the last thing he wanted to do was get caught

He should've excused himself during dinner to go search around, or chosen a buddy to go wandering with. Shep had told him some things, he knew the room where the Knights trained was the indoor room, and he knew some areas no one went to. He knew the hall where the Knights and King stayed, Cross found it interesting they all stayed nearby, and he'd promised himself he'd avoid the space like the plague. He knew so much, and so little, all at once.

And he waited, thinking, so long that he... he just got up as the others did. Moved to his station to rotate shifts with the night guards. He just... did his duties again.

Well, they weren't his duties. He had no obligation to be here, not really. But the Prince had told him a week. A week and a half. That would make the most sense for an in and out. So, he wanted to respect that. And he had orders now to act out. Surely if he slacked off it'd be noticed, right? Yeah. He'd just slip away before dinner and say he went to train a bit more. Peak into some doorways. No biggy. Surely.

He worried about what he'd do to pick up a slack he hadn't even lost, all day. All through his rounds. If he showed it, his replacement at his last post said nothing, and waved him off.

Cross wanted so desperately to go searching. But. Before he could pass by the hall which would lead to the mess hall for the servants and guard? He glimpsed them from down the adjoining hall.

Two of the Knights.

One with a hood obscuring his face, casting a heavy shadow over everything, his eyelights a dull white. Though he didn't see a mask at first glance, Cross had to make some assumptions based on the one beside him that they were both Knights.

The other had on leather training armor, and a tiger's mask, red ribbons hanging from it, swaying with weight. He could see the skeleton's grin peaking from beneath the mask, and noticed how the tiger draped an arm over the other and laughed.

Cross didn't even give them a second to notice him, swiftly stepping out of the corridor and towards the dining halls after all. He didn't want to get in the way. He didn't want to be on their radar.

He needed to know when they trained. When they'd all be occupied so he wouldn't have to worry about them catching him off-guard.

Off guard. Ink would be having a hayday with that one if he'd made that joke back at camp.

Cross just kept moving forward, ducking into the dining space before the Knights even reached that hall.

.

Three days. It took him 6 whole days to learn more. To learn where the information might be. To learn where the Knights usually were at any given time. To learn how to navigate the place better. To not worry about getting caught.

He'd gone back to Shep one day, to test if he'd be told to go off the dinner or if he'd be sought out. He was not, so he had his proof that no one cared so long as he was doing his rounds.

He'd sat and talked. Asked about the Knights. (Shep had little to say that Cross didn't already know). Asked about training. (Shep said he was always out here now, running routines.) Asked about the king.

And Shep was interested about him asking on the King. Cross almost fumbled, but said he'd heard a lot of rumors. Shep had been here a while. What was true?

And Shep told him stories. In a low voice. Of the King breaking spines, of throwing objects with his tendrils, of sentencing folks to death over minor transgressions. Of his ruthless rule and cruel first. How he brought in servants and guards by force. Ripping them from their homes. How the king would declare traitors and have them hung.

Eventually, Cross asked him to stop. He'd heard enough.

Some of those things he'd heard from Dream, or the folks back at that encampment. Others were new. Insider information. Things he'd never dreamed of.

It was informational, and Cross decided that he'd keep learning more, until he was sure he had the perfect moment to strike.

.

He wasn't the smartest, okay?

Cross had done his rounds, and the moment he was done, he scurried off towards his destination.

He paid no mind to servants or guards, and used a servant's hall to arrive in the location he needed. The hall where the King's Study was located.

Yesterday he'd investigated the war room. Entering and closing the doors behind him, the room had been a mess of papers and figures and notes. The maps of each neighboring kingdom alone were strewn on walls, like the ravings of a mad-man. None of them had plans of attack, though. The light from his eyelights had been enough to illuminate each one as he approached. Every single one was a new defensive plan. Ways to deploy troops if they were attacked. Not one seemed unprovoked which was... strange.

Cross was almost unable to find any sign of the King's next route of action for his destructive feats, so he was resigned to search the study tomorrow. His only solace was that exiting the War Room had only been met with a servant a ways down the hall, and a cat pacing by, paying him no mind.

The cats in this place were many. Cross had never seen so many cats in one place, and when he'd asked at dinner, it seemed that everyone thought they belonged to the Head of House, Ccino.

It would make sense, Cross had seen the embroidery along his apron, plenty of paws and cat-like figures along the hemlines, between the branch and tree motif the entire building seemed set on holding tight to. But, it amazed him that there would be so many, allowed to run free. The King must've been very lenient with his Head of House, to allow so many creatures free-roam.

...then again, the Knights wore masks decorated with Big Cats. Cross had finally caught a glimpse of the Lion, out on the lawn while he was talking to Shep. He carried an Axe twice the size of Cross' torso, and he seemed to wield it with hardly any problem. Cross just hoped the little beasts weren't being sacrificed. He'd heard about the barbaric practices from Ink once when he had his head on straight. He hadn't had the guts to bring it up to the Prince. Or Shep. Fearing the answer.

And so, now, he moved for the study. When he knew no one would be around, when no one would see him or bother him. He could dig through the information, tuck it away in his ribcage, and get out of dodge.

It was mid-day. Apparently the Knights tended to have training about now, and the King always supervised. So the forbidden hall, as the others called it, was dead and silent.

It wasn't hard to determine which door was the study, the door was carved carefully with a beautiful tree, and the handle was a shining gold, as though it got less use than the other rooms. He tested the handle, it moved, and he slipped inside.

Of course it wouldn't be locked. Who would have the guts to go snooping around in the private spaces of murderous tyrant kings? Well. Cross would, but that was besides the point.

The inside was lit by a few stray candles, and Cross tried not to marvel at the luxury of the room. Everything was carved out of dark wood, with golden fabric lacing the cushions of lounge seats and the curtains which covered the windows. It was darker, used, but still gorgeous. The daylight filtered in through an open window, giving it a warm ambience. Cross didn't know how a room used by such an unpleasant man would be so calm and soft.

There was a case along one wall, large and long. Hung inside were masks of all different shapes and styles. Some were decorated with swirls and gems, but most resembled animals. A crane, a swan, a horse, a sheep, a hawk, a wolf, they all stared out at him with blank, empty, sockets. He wondered if these were used or not, but they seemed untouched.

And beside that case, in the far corner, sat a heavy desk, with bookshelves filled to the brim tucked just behind it.

The desk was heavy, and it looked to be covered with papers, letter drafts, just a quick glance over the contents told Cross this was just what he needed.

He stood behind the desk, unable to stop himself from lifting the papers up into his hands. From here he could see the door, as well. He'd know if someone was coming.

The first paper he looked at seemed to be the draft of a letter, addressed to someone by the name of Crop. The handwriting was beautiful, and Cross was lucky Ink knew how to write in so many dialects, or he'd have trouble deciphering exactly what this was saying. The cursive was precise. And... it seemed a half-finished letter asking about plants. The state of a harvest? No, that's strange.

Cross lifted the few pages which had been tucked beneath the first, confused. These ones seemed to be written in a much more unsure writing, but they held what he could only call sketches. Showing clouds and plants and... fields? Cross wasn't familiar with farming, but he could recognize a field anywhere. The paper had a few words underlined and circled, and they seemed to be later additions, added overtop by someone else. The words seemed to be mentioned again in the letter draft? It was completely innocuous. If this was the King's letter, he was just asking about the wellbeing of a farmer's harvest. Asking about improvements.

He moved them hastily into a stack and set them aside, reaching for the next haphazard bundle of paper. That couldn't have been right.

The next piece he scooped up was in that same pretty cursive, but this time it wasn't a letter. Instead it was some sort of list. Locations, some crossed off, and some untouched. Was this what he was searching for? Surely this was it.

He moved to grab the next page that had been beneath it. It held more context, it seemed. Notes scribbled down about how these towns needed changes. Action. Cross looked to the first crossed-off name, one he recognized from one of the woman at Dream's encampment.

The paper read of a faulty justice system, a lawman who needed to be checked up on for counts of bribery and false accusations. She'd said the Knight, the tiger, had arrived and asked for their head of city guard, the one who enforced rules and kept peace in their small village. Two days later he was killed, replaced by someone the King installed, and he started jailing innocent folks.

Cross looked to the next one, a pass where travel had been haunted by the royal guard. He'd been told they'd done it to halt people from mining in the area, a crop of wealth the King wanted to hoard. But this said that it was a mountain pass with frequent and dangerous rocks lines thanks to a sudden increase in storms since his rule. Notes reminding of supplies, and pay, and signs. Signs.

The next was not crossed off. An issue of bandits ransacked the town when people would enter or exit. Notes in messier scrawl seemed to pose solutions. Ideas. One that was circled said 'Send Horror, Autumn'. It was nearing the end of summer now.

This did seem to be the list that Dream had suggested existed, my twin is organized, he'll have a list with extensive notes, but he'd said nothing about the way the list wouldn't actually contain anything incriminating.

He skimmed again, but it seemed like nothing harmful. One lower down even acknowledged a damage caused during some sort of raid and to divert funds to someone. A random shopkeep in an outer city. This didn't add up at all.

He folded the paper silently and stuffed it into his armor, but kept looking. No doubt there would be something else. One of the lower pieces, something hidden away.

But the papers atop the desk seemed just as helpful in nature. Even ones like drafted decrees or laws to impose later were not unreasonable. One even seemed to propose a ban on child labor. What kind of tyrant would pass up a chance for easy workers?

Digging through the drawers revealed nothing more, just an impressive collection of quills, ink, and more books it seemed didn't fit on the shelves behind him. He wouldn't find anything more useful than these documents, he was sure. He... he just hoped the Prince would be able to see whatever evil Cross was obviously missing here. He scooped up another piece, one of the decrees, and then the letter draft to that Crop. Maybe they could speak to him? No, the planning was up to Dream. He was just here to get the information and go.

And now that he had it...

Cross sighed a bit, he couldn't understand why these were the things in here. In this innermost sanctum where only the trusted went. Everyone feared this King so much, Dream claimed he and his master were such a threat. And yet all Cross could find was a record of damages, and a plan to enact damage control. It...

"Having some trouble finding the dirt?"

Cross felt his entire soul freeze up as the voice cut through the silent room. It was quiet, and deep, and a bit gravelly. He didn't recognize it, but that didn't matter, because he knew he had been alone.

Almost all at once, a wave of presence crashed over his awareness. That damp static that had passed by once in the hall. Trailing the King. He didn't have to look up to know it was one of the Knights somewhere before him.

"Our King isn't usually one to make a mess." The voice said again, calmly.

Cross dragged his eyelights up, hands tentatively hovering at his sides. There, sat comfortably on one of the chairs, was the hooded one. Dust, Shep had told him.

Now, despite the shadow cast by his hood, Cross could see the faint details of his panther mask, black and hidden away in the darkness of his cover. He seemed entirely at-ease, not a care in the world, watching Cross. If his soul hadn't been sinking into his gut, Cross would've even thought Dust found the situation humorous.

He steeled himself, watching. Could he try and bluff his way out of this? Somehow? How long had Dust been there? How much had he seen?

"Any chance you'd believe I was looking for a good book?" Cross asked, though the bold humor he'd attempted to channel in the way Ink had done so many times before fell flat. Maybe his growing panic was clouding his mind, or maybe he'd never been much of a comedian.

Dust just stared at him, tilting his head a bit. By the way his eyelights changed shape, Cross imagined his sockets had drooped to give an unamused stare. Not a great sign.

"Are you going to try and run, or can I catch a break today?" Dust just asked across the room.

Mm. Cross didn't have much of a choice here anymore. Dream had told him, drilled it into his skull, not to get caught. Especially not by the Knights. They'd torture him. Kill him. The stories of what they did to traitors... Cross couldn't let this knight get hold of him. Couldn't be trapped. He had to get out of here.

He promised Ink he'd be back.

With that thought, his sword summoned to his hand in a flash. It was big, and bulky, and not the best for an indoor fight, but he'd make due. He just needed to get away from this guy. That was all.

His summons was clearly a declaration of intent, because he heard Dust scoff over the rush of adrenaline running through him and roaring through his ears. All at once, the electric charge in the room seemed to up itself. Bones, blue, cracked downwards from the rafters and planted themselves sturdy before the door and the window. His two possible exits. Dust stood up and stretched his arms before him.

"Alright, let's get this over with." Dust voiced, then.

Cross nearly let his guard down in the first moment. He felt a charge of energy coming from his side, and narrowly vaulted over the desk to avoid the spiked and jagged bones which rose where his feet had just been planted.

Momentum carried him now, and his sword was already poised for attack before his mind quick processed it. He slashed at Dust, growing rapidly closer. Hid swing was met with pure white bones that stopped his swing, just enough for Dust to avoid the hit with a split second to spare.

He was quiet, as they fought. As Cross lunged and spun and threw himself forward with grunts of exertion. It was unsettling, how the only noises were the cracks of his magic ripping into existence or Cross's sword cracking them to pieces like a lumberjack's axe.

He kept his attention on Dust. The magic had a pattern. The room was buzzing ambiently, and right before an attack it was like being too close to a fire. Just briefly. Cross barely managed to avoid spearing his ankle thanks to the crackle. He wished he could be a bit faster, though. Cross couldn't feel where an attack was aiming like he normally could. Dust gave no indications as to where an attack would be channeling either, almost like he wasn't controlling them at all. He didn't like it, it was unpredictable, and was wearing him down fast.

Dust kept dodging his swings, no matter how fast he moved, and eventually Cross stumbled. His shoulder connected with one of the random jutting bones. Dust stepped back just before it pierced upwards, and Cross grunted in distress as it drove him back a step as to not get impaled.

That was apparently his mistake. The moment he wasn't close to Dust, bones seemed to crop up all around him, gutting at different angles, just barely piercing the bone, little cracks forming with the force. Cross could feel each one jab a bit deeper than the last. Each time he reversed to get away from one or break away an incoming volley, another would arrive behind him at a new angle.

He hated that Dust stood back. Watched. The only sign that he had even broken a sweat was a slight heaviness to the up and down of his shoulders, and while Cross hadn't lost much HP yet, he was starting to feel the exhaustion creep closer, and each little wound and crack seemed to be draining him. Was this the strategy? Play with him like a living pin-cushion? Was this it's own sort of-

Cross shifted his stance and unsummoned his weapon as he jumped up and out of the quickly growing ring of spikes. He had to act fast. He had to get out of here.

He grumbled a bit under his breath, he didn't like trying to do this, but...

The moment his feet landed, Cross summoned up his other piece of magic. The part his father had embedded into his soul early on in his life which made him so powerful. He was sure his normally white eyelight changed shape in the split second it happened. Red, bright red.

It only took a moment, a tug at the very being, hidden away in the Knight's chest. For a split second, he could feel the control of foreign magic slip into his own hands.

For a moment, it worked just as he knew it would. His fist trembled under the effort, keeping an eye on Dust as the other seemed to stare at him. The bones he'd summoned all seemed to sink away at once, recalled faster than Cross could've hoped. Dust seemed to feel his magic stop responding to him.

Cross just needed to get the Knight downed. Not dead. He just needed out.

He shifted stiffly. One, concentrated blast of bones at the Knight. He seemed like he didn't want to risk taking any damage. That was all Cross needed then. Some damage. And he'd be free to escape back to the camp. Away from these weird monsters with their weird magic.

He let his palm open, directing the force like he'd done so many times, channeling another monster's magic against them. Controlling it against their will.

The feeling of electricity rose again. It spiked. It. It gathered in his hand, that burning feeling he felt when an attack had been about to hit him.

What?

It was too late to recall the intent once he'd released it. The moment he tried to command the magic, he felt it all roll back over him. Bones meant to be aimed at their owner came jolting straight at his front. And though he stumbled back, he couldn't escape the searing pain of a fire too hot to process escaping his bones and immediately rushing up his arm, into his chest, down to his feet.

He had to imagine, with the loud sound like a cracking whip, that that was what being struck by lightning felt like. Molten metal in your veins.

Cross laid sprawled, dazed, on the floor as his control magic puttered out. It hurt to breathe. To see. To exit. He was half-convinced his arm was completely splintered apart after the pulse of raw magic that had filtered through it, but he didn't bother to look.

His soul begged him to move, to get up and run again, but darkness danced in his vision as he stared up at the ceiling. He failed his mission.

He hated to see as the Knight rounded into view, standing cautiously over where he was laid. Floored by the backfire of his power. If the knight said anything, he couldn't hear over the loud ringing invading his head.

Though, instead of stabbing him through like Cross had expected, the knight seemed to duck down. A cool feeling encased Cross' wrists (so the other hadn't broken apart) and his soul suddenly felt exhausted. He felt exhausted.

No matter how much he wanted to stay awake, to escape, he lost this fight fair and square.

[winter-spark]

Citron's Love and Limited Self Value Disguised as Coldness & Selfishness!

Okay! So, I said I had thoughts back in December about Citron's coldness & 'selfishness' so let me actually share them now. (I was starting to doubt doing this but one of my mutuals said I should share my thoughts on a3! things and that they'd like to hear them, and this is one I really wanted to share so here I go!)

Intro/Too long; didn't read:

There are three things that I feel are true about Citron:

He loves and values everyone so much.

For the longest time, he saw himself as a title

These things combined into him making decisions that on the surface come off as cold and or selfish but underneath are dripping in love and care.

Table of contents

Paragraphs 1 -3: Fleeing Zafra Paragraphs 4 -6: Joining & Leaving Mankai Paragraphs 7-9: Leaving Guy & Lies Paragraphs 10-14: Citron vs Tangerine and their Dad Paragraphs 15-16: Good now right? Paragraphs 17-22: Tangerine in Citron's Past Role {additional thoughts on this: here.} Paragraphs 23-24: Conclusion

Let's begin with the reason he even fled Zafra in the first place. Citron was being targetted, by those who thought his brothers were better fit to rule than he. And he was aware of this being the reason strange things were happening. At least, seeing as Guy had the suspicion/knew, I don't see why Citron wouldn't have.

Instead of voicing what was going on or raising any suspicions, he just left. He couldn't let them win win because his only value is his role, he's the Crown Prince. It's all he is. But he loves his people and he loves his brothers. He's not going to cause them any problems. They want him gone. Alright, he'll leave, silently without a word to anyone. Is it selfish to leave those who care deeply about you with a word? Well, some people might say, "obviously" but Citron loves so much and refuses to stop existing in the only way he knows, so he couldn't say a word.

What was he supposed to do? Say goodbye to Tangerine and cause him to worry and rouse suspicion on others? Tangerine is very headstrong, he would've wanted to get to the bottom of it(pin on that). Similar thing with Guy, if Citron told him he wanted to leave, Guy likely would have suggested that he say something, if Guy didn't just follow him. He can't really go undercover with Guy around, and maybe he wanted Guy to have a break from being at his beck and call(more on that later). If he announced anything of this to his father, his father would have gotten to the bottom of it. Citron selfishly chose to leave, without a word. But when you think about his motives he wasn't just being selfish, he was trying to protect people because he cares so much.

Then he gets to Japan and ends up finding a struggling theater that just needs a few more hands. He's not gonna stay for long. He can't stay forever. But what's the harm in lending a hand? Afterall, he's always loved the arts.

But then something strange happens. He acts completely different than who he is, completely different than whats expected of him. And they value him anyway. It's beyond just needing another person for the play. They care about him as a person. It's not yet addressed not fully, not really but it's there. And he cares about them. So he pours his heart into them but keeps a distance as best he can, he can't stay he knows this. They can't learn more, they can't care more, they can't be sad about his departure.

Of course, they were gonna be, and of course, Guy was gonna find him. He knew his time was coming to a close when Tsuzuru brought that souvenir. So when Guy arrived, it wasn't the time to dwell on it. On his desires, on his wants. He wasn't allowed to have those. He's the Crown Prince. He must go ascend to the throne lest Orange do. As is his role. As is who he is. As is what he's good for. It's what he's meant to do. He didn't want to leave but he has to and it's going to be sad and hurt. And he loves Mankai, Spring Troupe so much, he doesn't want them to be too sad about his departure. So he creates a list of tasks--a distraction--one for each of them, he can't pretend he's not leaving but he can make it fun and silly for them. Itaru pays for a buffet, Tsuzuru joins him in Manzai, Masumi lets him have some time with Izumi. They're small things to prepare for the goodbye but they can't have an actual goodbye, it'd be too sad. So he gives Sakuya the task of performing with Mankai, something he never plans to do but is something nice for Sakuya to look forward to he doesn't realize the hope he's planting, the hint he's leaving of his own desires, but he does. I believe it's called a Freudian Slip. And that's what he does by putting Sakuya last, with Chikage's Vanishing Citron act before it.

But! Before we move on we can't leave out his love for Guy. Leaving Mankai, Spring Troupe without a real goodbye is harsh, it's selfish, it's unfair, they weren't ready, he left too fast. It was sudden, no one really got any sort of closure. But leaving Guy behind(again) and telling the people of Zafra that Guy held him hostage against his will in Japan, that's cold, that's vicious, that's confusing. That's Citron's love.

When Citron was a little tiny child, he looked at that messed up soldier in training and decided that was his person. And overtime found out just how messed up he was, and Citron wanted to help. He wanted to prove to Guy he wasn't an android, wanted to get him in touch with his emotions to some extent, wanted to get him to be able to do things for himself. Here's where we continue on the "more on that later" point, Citron understands how much Guy has devoted himself to Citron and Citron specifically, and he wanted Guy to be able to be his own person, to have a freedom Citron couldn't have. I like to believe part of the reason he didn't take Guy along with him in the first place was to sort of start that divide, to let him exist on his own, as his own person. We know that goes into him leaving him in Japan with 0 way to return to Zafra. Citron wanted so much for Guy to find his own personhood, and connect with himself, his roots, and he knew Mankai was a great source of support for Guy, because Citron vetted them. Citron loved Guy so much he'd rather be without him than let Guy continue without his own sense of self, his own purpose. His freedom was ending but he wanted to gift Guy with it.

Was it one of the ugliest ways to do it? Oh absolutely, but Citron's quick and analytical. He knew if he just said he intended on leaving without Guy, Guy would have probably followed anyway. So he asked himself how can he ensure Guy's not going to follow him and has a way to remember his past, so he leaves Guy's charm with Izumi and he returns home lying that Guy was at fault for his absence. Guy can't come in, and even though Guy's been cast out of Zafra, Citron can see this as reassurance, he knows Guy is somewhere nice and he knows, in theory, Guy's not coming back to Zafra. Did Citron really never want to see Guy again? Of course not! Like Mankai, Citron loves Guy a lot, but Citron doesn't want to doom people to sorrowful fates.

Take his brothers for example. If Tangerine hadn't been apart of the rescue plot whatsoever, Citron would have done his best to still not rat out Orange and Navel. Citron been knew they wanted him out of the picture. He knew. But he doesn't want them to have to suffer. Even if they were never close like he'd have liked, even if they hated him, even if they were trying to steal the one thing he was allowed to exist as, even if they were trying to kill him. Citron loved his brothers and valued their well-being. He didn't want them to be in trouble surely not behind him and he would've kept that secret to his grave because of that.

But things can't always go how you want them or to your plan. Tangerine (unpinning that earlier point), is very headstrong and he sees things a little more equally. His brothers are all people, and two of them were apart of a plot to kidnap and murder his other brother. He was supposed to keep quiet about that? Lots of people were nearly injured in the event. Of course, he was going to tell his father what happened. Brothers or not that wasn't okay.

And the King, very much like Tangerine, sees things more equally. The King like Citron has a role he must fulfill but he doesn't seem to have the same problem as Citron where it's all he sees in himself(I think, he's seemed to spend very little time with his kids as they grew up so that up for debate), he loves but he can put that aside and think about what's fair for all parties.

It's not fair, for Orange and Navel to simply just be scolded because they are his sons, this was a serious offense, he must treat it as such. It's not fair, for Citron to lie to the people, to lie on his retainer who has done nothing wrong. There are many things to consider. Is him allowing Citron to be an ambassador(was that the word? Idr) of the arts being a little soft on him? Honestly, I don't know, maybe, but he loves his son and he understands that he must have been struggling and in fear of running away because he was being plotted against, not saying anything because he has a big heart. And he just nearly died. He can't let someone so willing to lie over being upfront and stopping issues early on because of feelings be the next in charge, but he knows Citron is very capable and he sees the warmth of Spring Troupe, Mankai with Citron. He understands that where the Palace lacked for Citron, Mankai picked up for it. Citron had a home away from home but also wanted to serve his country. The King, his father, didn't really want to take either away from him. So he gave him a new role, a way he can have both. [How did this become a meta about his dad? lol] This scene, Citron goes through likely a lot of emotions.

Being stripped of his role, the one thing he's lived for, his one purpose in life, the thing he's fought for jeopardizing his relationship with his brothers, his sense of value. That mess is heartwrenching, it's scary. He just failed to protect his brothers from punishment and he lost the one thing he refused to ever actually give up. Now what?

Now, his father gives him a gift. A gift truly of freedom, decorated in a nice bow of still being valuable to his country but also showing him that his value wasn't just his title. He didn't have to be Crown Prince to be worth something. Could he have left the title sooner? Who can say? But right now, his father is basically saying "I love you and I value your happiness" and what more could Citron really ask for? Things are starting to look up for Citron, Guy was able to start healing from his past, Citron gets to return to Mankai and exist and have value and above all be loved. Everything is great.

Except then there's Tangerine.

Many of Citron's problems growing up were tied to him being the Crown Prince, it's restricting, it expects a lot of you, and it's a sad existence. That's how Citron views the title of Crown Prince, even if subconsciously, it's a bad thing to be thrown upon someone. It's something that destroys your sense of worth. How could Citron do that to someone he loves so dearly? He ran off, to be happy, to have a sense of worth outside of the title of Crown Prince, he left his precious little brother for dead, and what kind of person is he to do that? His suspicions "confirmed", when Tangerine shows up unannounced after running away from home.

Citron is so used to seeing himself as "the Crown Prince" he doesn't even consider that Tangerine just missed his brother, or wanted to ask for some sort of comfort or advice or anything like that. Because Citron was the former Crown Prince and Tangerine is the current one. That's where is mind is at. Citron is reliving all those years mentally and worrying that Tangerine is living like he was. Why else would Tangerine run away and come see Citron, who was once in his position? So his love for Tangerine and his pain from only seeing himself as a title combine into guilt, and that guilt turns him cold.

He can't rub salt in Tangerine's wounds by showing how happy he is without the burdens of the crown staring him down. He can't flaunt his freedom. He can't bare seeing Tangerine suffer the way he did. So he frowns and he gets serious. There are expectations of the Crown Prince, too. And Citron has those embedded into his very being. And he tries to somewhat of what you'd expect someone to be after having prepared for a role for years to someone now in their role. And he tries to get Tangerine to go back as quickly as possible. And it's selfish to send someone away because of your own feelings and not what they've done but it's also so complicated for Citron.

He's not mad at Tangerine, he's sad for him and mad at himself and every second Tangerine's there is a reminder of all of that and a show of Citron being a bad influence probably. Citron's used to falling in line and fulfilling duties so as he becomes somewhat of what you'd expect of a serious mentor, it makes sense that he's falling back into that mentally, the proving oneself to the right/expected thing to do. A good older brother/mentor wouldn't let his brother who needs to be preparing for a big event miss practice and possibly the event. A good older brother doesn't brag about how good he has it now that the younger one has it worse.

Of course, thanks to Masumi's patience with Tangerine and Spring Troupe's patience with Citron, he was able to turn his love warm again. But it was a bit rough getting there. Like the other events before.

Honestly, there's so much more that can be focused on about Citron and a part of me wants to go on a tangent about the little slips he has like the wish he'd given Sakuya and how his emotions slip through in other ways like how he got kidnapped and stuff like that. But I should probably reread things again before/if I do that. The important part here is just that I'm so fascinated by how Citron is just so full of love but for so long lack a full sense of self outside of the Crown, (not to say he didn't have interests and desires but more in the sense that nothing he had interest in or desired fully mattered in the long run because it was insignificant to the role he was meant to play, in case I haven't made that clear) and how those things combine into actions that are cold and or selfish but also so layered and so full of care.

Citron is so !!! my heart! Idk how to put it quite into words but I haven't really seen people like full-on analyze him really (outside of some analyzing in fanfictions really funnily enough) and I wanted to just give him a bit of focus. Honestly, it was long over due with how much I talk about his brothers. I didn't even say everything I thought but that's okay. Just means more opportunity for me to talk about him again later.

[thatgirlwithasquid]

Clearly I am holiday obsessed rn 🎄 What do you think the Stranger Things characters favorite holiday songs are?🤔

oooooo fun question!!!

Steve’s is, without a doubt, Last Christmas by Wham! The second I saw this ask it immediately came to mind for him. Nancy angst? Cheesily singing it to Billy despite the fact they’ve been happily together for three years? Take your pick. Either way he belts it out any time it comes on and Dustin HATES IT

Heather and Carol put on an absolute Performance together any time All I Want For Christmas by Mariah Carey comes on. They are personally behind it being blasted nonstop in stores in the run up. Workers hate them, they are having the time of their lives.

Jonathan’s is Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree by Brenda Lee, partially because it is also Joyce’s favourite. There’s a lot of pressure on both their shoulders looking out for each other and Will, but every year they end up pausing their decorating for the holidays to dance to that together cause they both love it and some of that stress falls away. Sometimes Will even joins in and its just the three of them taking turns to twirl each other in their living room. A Byers Christmas isn’t complete without it.

Chrissy likes Baby It’s Cold Outside. She finds it fun and charming. Eddie diligently sings the other half of her duet whenever it comes on to save Chrissy’s lungs (platonically or romantically idc)

Eddie’s is Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow! I cannot articulate why aside from the content has similar vibes to Baby It’s Cold Outside and I think it’d be cute for them to kinda match. They matched each other’s freak, they matched each other’s Christmas energy. All is as it should be.

Jason says that his is something suitably christian like Mary’s Boy Child by Boney M., but it’s actually something poppy like Santa Tell Me by Ariana Grande. He will be teased by his friends when he finally admits it, but it would suspiciously start being played more for him either way.

Argyle’s is Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) by Darlene Love because it’s pretty and chill and vibey and I say so lmao. Idk, I just think he’d like it.

Tommy’s is Santa Baby, but he’s the straight guy who bends the lyrics to be Santa Buddy when he sings it. Depending on how drunk Carol gets, there’s a good chance she’ll yell at him to ‘suck it up and fuck Santa already’

Robin likes Fairytale of New York and makes Steve badly sing it with her. She sings Shane MacGowen’s part and Steve does Kirsty MacColl’s. The drunker they are the more they laugh at getting to insult one another throughout their rendition.

I’m not so sure about Nancy (she’s not exactly my fave so I don’t have a clear idea about anything to do with her 😅). Maybe Happy Xmas (War Is Over)? That just feels like something that would get played in the Wheeler house.

[threewaysdivided]

Been low-key obsessed with the art and worldbuilding of Stray Gods: The Roleplaying Musical lately, but also wanted to draw something on-theme while catching up on the Dan Jones and Dragons VODs, so have a self-indulgent Morenthal wearing Persephone's outfit.

Bonus close-up under the cut since Tumblr compression eats the details:

[chronurgy]

I think part of the reason people struggle with act 3 (other than the actual computer load) is because act 3 is very much Durge's act, so if you're not playing as Durge you miss a lot of the impetus to act. Seeking out Orin isn't just tracking down the macguffin, it's finding your old home and position, your sister and usurper all in one. Rivington isn't just an entryway to Baldur’s Gate and a review of the refugee crisis, it's the site of a major revelation about what you are, and Orin's taunts are gloats about what she did to you. The meeting with Gortash isn't just for plot, it's a dark mirror homecoming where you can't remember the home you're coming back to and where you learn exactly what sort of person you used to be and just how much of this situation is your fault. Act 3 is packed with thematic and emotional resonances for Durge, and full of people and locations that will help elucidate Durge's past. That's part of why Orin falls so flat on a Tav (or other origin) run - so much of her story is tied up with Durge's.

I'm not saying that act 3 isn't massive (it is) or that it doesn't drag at all when you're playing Durge (it does), but I think it drags significantly less and feels significantly less disconnected than it does for Tav. I think when the decision to split Tav and Durge was made Larian probably should have reviewed what the third act of the game would feel like from a non-involved character's point of view and made more changes to help better tie them to the main plot. Orin, for example, absolutely could have used way more development generally but especially on a Tav run the game really needed to give the character more connection to her. Her abducting a companion was likely an attempt at that, but there was nothing you could do about it and no time limit on rescuing them so it fell pretty flat.

[yuseirra]

I'm drawing a comic~ for the meantime...this manga honestly made me so frustrated and pissed earlier, I just ranted on and I found it so funny to read. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do, here's how I feel about it rn!!

oh, this is such a perfect time to take a break from it though, i constantly feel so nervous about creating something for it because things escalate fast and I need to make good sense of it and reflect it into my works EVERY week. I am nuts for staying accurate to the source material (it may not seem like it but I'm really a perfectionist and I wish to do a good job getting the characters right) This work has a knack for making me feel extremely tense. It's been that way for the past three months I've hopped in, it's nice and enjoyable to have something to be invested on but sometimes it gets too much.. people are growing insane and pointing knives at each other, our protagonist stabbed himself and fell into the waters. The fact that I think it was an utterly foolish decision for him to have been that way does not help. I do not support what he's done. It does make a pretty impressive scene considering it's a manga and the art looks good, I think they planned that scene to be there from the beginning too but Sigh

I think he directed his anger to the wrong guy. I am not convinced that was the right choice he's made so I hate the look of it. Way to feel this way about the main character huh,

I can't draw.. when things make me this nervous, what else is going to unfold? I feel like I can see the big picture for the whole thing, but there is no way I can predict all the little details and what if things get super ugly, even uglier than how it is now?? I can't possibly work with that, it's just so hard!; Mengo-san Aka-san, what did I do to deserve this?? I came in because I thought I understood what this is!!! I have a good idea of how things are going to go!!! Why do you have to make everything SO MESSY?? It's frustrating. I AM collecting the physical volumes you know? I WANT TO TILL THE END?? please don't make me regret it, You seriously AREN'T going to make the one guy Ai confessed her love to a total freak. You know that and I know it too. It's just out there and set in stone, goodness. This isn't funny. This is so pointless. It wears me out ugghhh it's not about the ship I mean, it's about the message!!! the plot!!!!!! I really don't like how this manga makes things way more complex than what it actually is. It doesn't have to be that way.

Heheh. I ranted again- the stuff below's what I wrote earlier. Honorable mention to chatgpt for helping me translate it.. this is just. I just want things to get resolved. It's getting so dumb.

***

Kamiki is drowning and getting dragged away, Aqua stabs himself, then floats on the water with a melancholy expression on his face… and then there's a break for two weeks or so, right? Ugh, seriously.

But honestly, even in this weirdly ended situation, I’m actually glad there’s a break. If there wasn’t, I wouldn’t be able to write things like this. I get too nervous to write because I really hate making mistakes. I genuinely don’t like it. Normally, I wouldn’t enjoy talking about uncertain situations like this…

But what can I do when I see things?;;; If I didn’t understand anything at all, I wouldn’t be able to write something like this, and if I didn’t have enough time, I wouldn’t have time to think about it, so I wouldn’t be able to write then either. But now that I do understand, it’s just… so frustrating, suffocating, nerve-wracking, and I feel all fidgety because of it.

Honestly, this manga should just release one chapter and then take a break. Release one chapter and then take a break. It would be nice to have about a week to think about it with a clear mind. It’s so exhausting, really. I feel like I know where this is all headed in the end, but the creators have been dragging things out so slowly. Even with the Aqukana storyline, I got so tired with how they handled it that I took a break from reading it last year…

The story hands you the key. It even clearly shows you the door that the key can open. But then it puts up dozens of other doors next to it, meaningless ones. Even after giving you all the answers, it tries to confuse you. But you can see right through it. And while doing that, it points to each door saying, 'Isn't this door pretty~~~ How about that one?' constantly taunting you along. All while it's them that's given you the key already in the first place.

It’s really frustrating… I’m so tired. If I couldn’t see anything, I’d just watch while grumbling or be like, 'Oh…' and keep my distance without overthinking it. But it’s suffocating and frustrating not knowing why they’re doing such pointless things, and it makes me anxious too…

Well… I could just take a break, but… I really like Ai. And when I look at the man she loved, I feel like he could actually be a really good character too, so I watch carefully… There’s a lot to dig into. It would be nice to shift the focus onto the other characters, too, but…

Seriously, nothing’s been properly resolved, has it? They’ve been dragging it out for ages. The characters keep doing crazy things. You can’t end a story like this. It’s just… they're not writing well, but they’re doing it on purpose. This manga is like that; the creators enjoy twisting things, and I should just enjoy that too, but I don't think I do. I just want to use the key and go through the door; I’m not interested in looking at the various door knobs. I wish they’d just stop now. I feel like I know what’s going on. That’s why I’m here to draw fan art. I get so up and down every week, but if the outcome isn’t what I’m thinking, I have no idea what it could be, and I don’t think it would make for a good story at all. I’m not saying it has to go the way I want for it to be a good story! It’s just… if it doesn’t, it feels like the message will completely collapse. It’s not about the couple… Even if the characters die, as long as the story is good, that’s fine, but the framework has to hold up!

About Kamiki's state,

his trauma and the dire-ness of his mentality is probably even more serious than Aqua’s, right? And I actually got that right too.

They said they only felt alive when they were with Ai. That means, in essence, they’re as good as dead now. But if they still want to keep living in that state, it means there was something they believed they had to do.

That’s likely related to the wishes mentioned in Mephisto and Fatal.

‘I want to see you. I want your life to return.’ (Mephisto)

‘I want to get closer to you. I want to receive your love again.’ (Fatal)

'For that, I can do anything. I can even offer my life. I can sacrifice anything. What more do I need to use?' <(Common themes in both songs)

In short, it’s all about 'I want to see you.'"

The "you" here refers to Ai.

That’s what it is.

Well… when you think about it, what Kamiki is doing now is essentially that. His underlying wish was that, but the way he’s going about it has become completely twisted. I don’t think he developed this kind of logic on his own. He’s been influenced or possessed by something. Because he was never someone who could hurt others.

This character didn't harm Ai… I truly believe he wouldn't have hurt her. Everything he’s doing now, in his own way, is probably for Ai. It’s just that he’s gone mad.

And thus, you can infer he's in such a serious condition, yet it hasn’t been highlighted at all.

They made his past so tragic and horrifying (I try to thoroughly analyze the character's psychological state; as I mentioned before, I try to sync up with their emotions…), and yet, with this character, there are parts I just can’t dive into because it’s too overwhelming. It’s plainly obvious. He’s not in his right mind right now. He’s too depressed and tormented to be alive.

Think about it, he’s been through extremely serious things since he was at least ten years old, maybe even younger… Just thinking about it makes me… I once considered exploring this, incorporating to my works, but I simply couldn’t. I really couldn’t… it’s too horrifying!

If the author had written him in a way where he turned into a serial killer because he developed a hatred for women or something like that, I wouldn’t have been able to forgive it. Even though I haven’t experienced such things, I feel I know enough of it to say that would be too shallow, convenient, and disrespectful. That’s really not how you handle such material. It’s beyond lazy—it's irresponsible. But I didn’t think it would go that way.

Whether this character ends up being revealed as the ultimate villain or not, if they’ve created a character like this and don’t address it properly, it’s not respectful to the character. It’s too much…

But I believe that the creators have a certain affection for what they’ve created, so I trust they’ll handle it. I just… want to see it handled properly. I think the delay is because they couldn’t fully express it while the anime was airing. They keep taking breaks and adjusting their pace; part of it might be due to the creators’ conditions, but I think they might have deliberately delayed introducing new content to match the anime’s schedule.

Honestly, I got into this because I knew. I realized, "Ah, this is what this character is going through."

He really liked Ai. It was set up in a way that he had no other choice but to become that way.

Other characters have their own core identity, right? Even if you strip away all their relationships with other characters, they have something of their own.

But when you look at this character, from the planning stage, everything was set to align with Ai, and without Ai, the character itself wouldn’t exist…;; He just collapses. Like in the lyrics, "I can’t live without Ai." The only consolation is that Ai truly did love him back… It’s like, the creators made this character specifically as a match for Ai, you know?

When you create a character like that, it’s only right to handle it in a way that makes that visible.

About his relationship with Ai… it’s not like I just think they look good together or something… It’s more like, when you look at the story and the way the characters are built, it’s obvious that they were made that way!!!

But even in the current situation and how ugly it is, there's one reason I think Ai made a good choice in picking him as her husband. She picked a extremely handsome guy and passed down superior looks to their kids haha. When you look at him, it doesn't make it seem like Ai is way out of his league in terms of looks, does it? She met someone who matched her well and dated him, that’s how it feels. I’m pretty sure they’re really gods, you know? They’re like the god of entertainment and the god of light. Their story is just too similar… they resemble each other so much… If you look at mythology, Ame-no-Uzume’s husband just fell for her at first sight, got swept along, married her, and they even shared a shrine, living happily together… Ame-no-Uzume just barged into his domain, made herself at home, and they got together right away. That god really married well. He ruled over not just one or two domains, but was a supreme indigenous deity and was considered just and noble… It’s like, “Oh, I like this one,” and she picked him like that. And judging by the drawings, Ame-no-Uzume was really beautiful… She was incredibly cute… I was so happy looking at that mythology. They bless the couple’s fate and marriage because they’re satisfied and happy with each other. People even make masks of the two gods and wear them together during festivals.

Look, if I’m a romance writer and I want to write something related to the entertainment industry, and I borrow mythology, and I know this couple's mythology? And then I write a story like this? Well… from my perspective, Kamiki is a mad god who went crazy after losing his wife. He genuinely loved Ai. Look at his expression in chapter 162. It’s the same as in chapter 153. He loved her that much, and on top of that, she was his savior, his lover, and even the mother of his child, raising them risking everything she's got. He believes she died because of his mistake—so what would he do? He might have thought about following her in death but couldn’t, so he thought, "If I do something, maybe Ai will come back." And when that didn’t work, he just ended up desperately wanting to see Ai again… I think that’s what drove him mad. I don’t think he’s in his right mind. He’s totally lost it. I mean, who could stay sane after losing someone like that for over a decade?

It’s not like the readers should have to guess why he’s fallen apart like this, right? It’s time for the story to show us. I’m really struggling with this—making deductions, writing, drawing—and every time a new chapter is released, people come to me, feeling sad or offering comfort. Seriously, I’m fine! isn’t it? Aren’t the creators romance writers? How could they not cover this? It’s not just about the couple—this is such rich material, and not using it would be a waste, don’t you think? And it doesn’t make sense… Why would they write it so that Ai loved someone truly strange? It’s not like that. Ugh, seriously.

As I always say, it’s not my work, so I could be completely wrong.

Still… it just feels like such a waste. Not using this? Not doing this?

I think all the clues are there… They’re doing this on purpose. Just wait and see. I’m not called the Prophet-type for nothing (INFJ)? When it comes to things like this, my intuition isn’t that bad. There are a lot of things I’ve figured out as soon as I saw them.

What’s frustrating about this manga is that if the plot progression itself is confusing, that’s fine as a mystery element.

But here, they give you all the answers, then pretend they haven’t, dragging things out while playing dumb. That really makes me go, “What are they doing?” It’s like they show all the answers and then, without reason, go off on a tangent. It’s like entering the destination into a navigation system, knowing where you’re supposed to go, but steering the car in the opposite direction for three hours.

Then, they turn around like nothing happened and head towards the destination. It’s pointless. If you don’t know the destination from the start, there’s a thrill as you go. But this just looks like foolishness. It’s like, eventually, it’ll come to this conclusion, but the story gives you the answer upfront and then insists, "Actually, no~" and lies about it. I don’t think it’s a very good method. It’s tiring…

Maybe it works in a volume format, but reading it as it’s released makes you wonder, "What’s even going on here?"

Haha, I came into this with confidence. At this point, there’s quite a bit that’s built up.

When I think about it, I’ve gotten all the critical parts right. Look at the expressions Kamiki makes when he looks at Ai. Does he look like someone who would order Ryosuke to kill Ai just because she rejected him?

This guy just can’t come to his senses after Ai’s death. He’s been doing everything he could just to see Ai again.

And if you’re still confused, the answer is always in Ai’s video message.

Would Ai, of all people, say she wanted to live forever with someone who ordered her death? That’s not how you write that story. The answer was already there, so I don’t know what this manga is doing.

That's why I'm not worried about Aqua right now! I'm mad! LOL. Hey, your dad definitely loved your mom more than anyone else in the entire world. He loved her more than his own life. Well, maybe you put Ruby first… But seriously, is he really so crazy that he tried to kill Ruby just to save Ai?!

But if that's the case, then it means he's not in his right mind, so he needs an exorcism…;;

How could Aqua not understand what kind of person his dad is, even after playing him as his role? Why can't he get a sense of it? Why didn't he listen, and instead tried to drown him in the ocean? Why did he do that? Is he really that evil? Am I missing something? Why are you like this? I can’t sympathize with it—was that really the only way? It doesn’t look that way to me. This is like a parade of fools, seriously. Did I completely miss the mark? Am I really wrong? Did I get everything wrong, and did I fail to see it properly? Then why does Ai’s video message say what it does?

Aqua, please get a grip. And Kamiki is out of his mind. He needs to go to a hospital. Seriously. What is all this?

That's all.

[imunbreakabledude]

lately i've been really drawn again to this little fic I have half-written that takes place post-s3, pre-tmdoms, with maeve recovering from the explosion and elena caring for her and them getting acquainted with the new form of their relationship... and... elena coming to realize that she is not quite attracted to maeve in the same way anymore. this lil story is soooo vivid & visceral to me but hard to write - both because a story about (potential) lesbian bed death is not the most delightful thing to most people, and also because I worry that to people who do not have my specific brain chemistry this makes elena seem quite unlikable (but like! the whole point of this story to me is her feeling frustrated at HERSELF and very shallow and stil loving maeve very much but trying to cope with what is undeniably a very major shift in their dynamic! and it's not JUST about the sex it's about maeve being trapped and totally dependent on her too - but i digress, i'm not trying to type out the whole story here...)

anyway. feeling the urge to share one tiny piece of it, which also encompasses a headcanon that is very important to me: that maeve is a bit messed up from the explosion. visibly scarred. and... that after a life of being completely immune to scars and blemishes of all kinds, plus being a celebrity where she was praised for said "flawlessness" and scorned for any other perceived flaws, that she would probably have some insecurity over this, at least at first.

anyway. here's just a snip.

Maeve moaned when Elena left the first few days. “I have to,” Elena retorted as Maeve weakly clung to her arm… which she would’ve been sure was just teasing before, but now, she had to wonder if Maeve was genuinely using all her strength. “And it’s good, probably, to have some time apart. So you don’t get sick of me.”

Each night, when she returned, Maeve would be waiting. Trying to get her into bed. Each time, Elena entertained it… despite knowing it was far too soon… at least, she entertained it until the first grunt or yelp of pain. Which would turn to protest as soon as Elena would withdraw. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Elena insisted.

“God, it’s annoying to be on the other side of that,” Maeve muttered. “Come back. I’m fine.”

“I’m not taking any chances of making your injuries worse, especially not when we can’t exactly call a doctor if something goes wrong.”

Several of these false starts occurred until finally, one night, about a month after they’d stepped foot in this cabin… Maeve made it through some escalating foreplay without a single whimper. And from there…

“You’re not stopping,” Mave commented. “Does that mean my sexy nurse has approved me for strenuous activity?”

“Mm, I think so. Proceed with the disrobing…”

Maeve straightened up, going for the buttons on her shirt, then froze.

“Maeve? Is something wrong?”

“I…” she shook her head. “I don’t know why I’m nervous.”

“I am too. It’s been a long time.”

“Not about the sex. Well. Also that.”

It hit Elena while Maeve’s cheeks went pink—she was nervous about undressing. On one hand, it would be easy to dismiss that with a laugh, given that Elena had seen every inch of Maeve’s body not only over the years, but especially in the last few weeks, checking on her healing and helping her swap out bandages. But… in those moments… In the heightened consciousness of her new body, Maeve had let on comments that at first struck Elena as mild sheepishness, but now, in hindsight, seemed to be… genuine insecurity. Back in that first week, when Maeve idly scratched at her body hair and observed, “This is the longest I’ve gone without a wax since college.” Or, the way she grimaced each time Elena helped her change the bandage over her eye… the way she’d stared in the mirror and frowned for several minutes after she was finally able to swap it out for a proper black eye patch. Elena had reassured her in the moment, of course. Yet perhaps because caretaking was so different, it didn’t “take” in this setting. Maeve didn’t need a nurse, in this moment. She needed her girlfriend…

Stepping forward, Elena undid Maeve’s buttons for her—feeling some resistance, as Maeve twisted away, but holding firm. That was still weird. “You are as sexy as the day I met you.”

“Sure…”

“Shh. None of that.” Elena pulled Maeve’s shirt off, unhooked her bra, then prodded her so she fell back onto the bed. As her legs lifted, Elena began pulling her pants off as well. “I daresay I’m the expert in this matter.” With the clothes out of the way, Elena took in the woman before her… Though it was a very different picture than it was a month ago, when Maeve was fresh out of a radiation explosion, her body was… altered. There was no denying it. The bruising had vanished, but faint burn scars snaked across most of her torso, with raised white bits of skin where the tissue had knotted together in healing—a first, for her. Elena leaned forward and ran her fingers across it… stomach, ribs… feeling the slightly rough texture… with Maeve shivering under her touch. Then, she began laying soft kisses on the spots where the scarring was most noticeable… She snuck a peek to see that Maeve smiled at that: she recognized the gesture, for she’d originated it. The last time they were together, after Elena’s surgery, Maeve had always made a point to kiss the small scar that marked the spot where Elena’s appendix had once been, before they had sex.