#just don’t ask me to do it again

[doctorsiren]

I loved your headcannons about inukawa, reigen and reigens sister and I would really like to see what you think would happen if mob and reigens sister met and I was wondering if you could possibly draw them :D

hello yes I accidentally made a comic after seeing this ask yesterday 😁 bro psychoanalyzed her 😨

[catscidr]

yall i blacked out and then woke up to this….. what is this…. who was so desperate to have more dottore x y/n that they drew more….. that’s crazy….

[chirpsythismorning]

I’m sorry but nothing will ever beat Finn’s drive playlist that he made during s3 filming, with songs like Me and Michael, The Basement, Gay Thoughts and No Woman lmaoooo

[chloesimaginationthings]

Hi! I've been seeing your art reposted a LOT on pintrest. I'm not sure what your status is on being ok with people reposting your art but I thought I'd let you know anyway. The pintrest accs are:

@.Mik0mii (didn't give credit)

@.Pai0_Kai_ (gave credit)

@.ArrozConPolo_1 (no credit)

@.suilie4zui (no credit)

@.dustyfavre (credit)

@.Katsukiisama (no credit)

And about 5 million more QwQ

So when it comes to reposting my art on Pinterest, I’m personally okay with it! I actually find it kinda flattering to have my art reposted there

Though bare minimum I do want to at least be credited, so if you ever see my art on there uncredited just add the credit yourself in the comments!

[fuumiku]

Chilcille huh... ngl I was a little suspicious. like why would you do that, huh... hope youre not mischaracterizing anyone in your weird and wacky ship. a little weird. but then you said they both had flat asses and you know what? I salute you and your perfect characterization

The fact you seem to think you managed to not make this ask insulting is baffling. What the hell. Fuck off.

If you actually care to be open minded about the ship, I talk about marchil on my sideblog 24/7. Funnily enough I’m currently 4k words deep into an analysis of their character arc together in canon, but that’ll take some more days to get done. Some notable posts:

Of course without counting the analyses of Chilchuck on his own I’ve made, like my masterpost on his family situation. Or better yet you could also read my fics for them, see how weird and wacky they are here.

Wanna talk about mischaracterisation? They’re literally a comedic duo who interacts 24/7. Marchil is crazy bc ppl are like "did those shipper read with their eyes CLOSED?? They have no chemistry!" Meanwhile canon is like: "She’s obsessed with knowing everything she can about him and she reads him like a book." In her eyes he’s like that extra rare and hard and shiny unlockable dating sim character, that brooding mysterious character trope that’s thrilling to crack open and typically is at the center of the plot. The wife roleplay???? "Hey, did you know his type is blondes. Hey did you know he likes his women pretty and blonde. Hey did you know he likes her hair. Hey did you know that he teases her 24/7 and it’s one of the few things that consistently gets him grinning because he finds her reactions cute." Like a schoolyard bully pulling on the pigtails of the girl he likes.

It’s not like they have any thematic narratives or relevance. It’s not like she’ll live to 1000 and has existential dread about it while he’s logically gonna be her next friend to die at 50 and wether it’s romantic or platonic it’ll terrify her to lose him. It’s not like it’s fear of death x fear of rejection so they’re both obsessed with the thought of loss looming, past and ongoing. It’s not like it’s half-elf x half-foot and there’s an inherent journey that was and still is to dispel prejudices and truly come to see each other. It’s not like he’s painfully real and raw and flawed but still a good man, that he’s not the figure of prince charming that she’s always dreamed of while still being virtuous and worth fighting for. Or you know, her hair being golden and it being the epitome of beauty to him, and his hair turning silver and it being Marcille’s worst nightmare.

Just a weird wacky ship who means nothing but shallow things to people who have weirdo reasons for liking it. Like can you not. If you’re not imaginative enough to think of reasons why this ship may have an appealing dynamic that’s not my issue. But yes, yes, they’re both flat asses to me, thanks.

[vic-does-battlecats]

Minor spoilers for the already revealed chapters of the next A Starless Clan book Wind

[yourdeepestfathoms]

The you have any headcanon about Perrine and The Croon?

Perrine has an affinity for skulls because of The Croon, and they’re mainly the reason why she likes to collect them

The Croon refers to her as “calf”

Perrine sometimes catches glimpses of a tall figure out of her window at night, standing among the distant trees, hidden by just enough shadow to make her wonder if she’s just seeing things

The Croon gifts her skulls, bones, and small dead animals

When people say The Croon is evil, she’s the first to jump to its defense

However, Perrine does have a healthy dose of fear for The Croon

She doesn’t know why this is

But there’s always a level of wariness she feels towards it

There was this one night…

It was cold. The wind was blowing. Branches brushing against the cottage were like clawing fingers on the walls, desperate to get inside.

Perrine woke up.

Or maybe she had never fallen asleep in the first place.

She couldn’t remember.

It didn’t matter.

She got up from her bed.

All around her, the moonlight bleeding in through her window pooled ghoulishly into the empty black eyes of her animal skulls.

It felt like they were all watching her.

At first, she had gotten up to get a glass of water. Her mouth was dry, and the space behind her eyes was uncomfortably warm. But at the same time, she was covered in goosebumps.

But then, she found herself drawn outside.

Grass crunched under bare feet.

She didn’t even flinch from the cold.

Like she was in some kind of trance, she found herself delving into the woods.

And then, she saw it.

The towering beast of feathers and bone. It stood among the trees, nearly obscured by darkness.

The Croon.

She was scared.

She wasn’t sure why she was scared. She based her whole image around this beast, after all. She wore the moose mask because of it.

And yet…she trembled.

And then, she spoke.

“What’s the point of you?”

She asked it without thinking. It was a question that had been brewing in her head for ages.

“I mean…you embody and represent chaos…”

The Croon tilted their head for a moment, as if considering the question. The quiet night air was tense.

“Chaos…is beautiful and destructive. It’s everywhere, and it’s all-consuming. It doesn’t need any apparent purpose. It merely is. It destroys and makes and changes…over and over again. That is what I represent. Change is necessary. Everything must die, and from the destruction, something new is born. After a wildfire, flowers will bloom from the ashes.”

“But people like the flowers. Not the fire.”

“Perhaps. But they need the fire. They need the chaos and the change. Even if it destroys them. There is no new life without death, and there is no death without chaos.”

“But, you still destroy things. Why can’t you have something new without destruction? Why change?”

“Destruction..is just part of the cycle. It’s a part of change. There is beauty in decay. Death and destruction can be…art. The changing of the seasons, the wilting of flowers, the withering fall leaves… Even the most positive change is destruction for something else. Destruction and chaos are required for rebirth, for evolution. Because of change, everything is different, and everything is unique. There are no two things that are exactly the same, down to the last detail.”

“My friend, Cole, lost their parents in a horrible way. Is that supposed to be beautiful? Or necessary?”

“…Perhaps not. Not all destruction is beautiful or necessary. But not all death is cruel or senseless either. After all…without death, would you appreciate life at all? When an animal dies, and it decomposes, the earth gains the nutrients it gives to grow new flowers and new grass. New life. Even a death as horrible and cruel as that can still give new life to the plants and earth around it. It is the same with humans. A death, even a cruel and horrible one, can lead to new life for the remaining family or loved ones…or to the end of a destructive, hurtful cycle.”

“Cole has suffered since their parents’ death. There was no hurtful cycle to break! It’s not fair!”

“Death isn’t fair.”

Its voice had dropped to a low, almost guttural growl that shook her to the bones. But its empty eye sockets still held an eerie sense of calm.

“Life…isn’t fair. People die. Families are torn apart, homes and villages are destroyed. It’s the nature of the world. It’s a necessary evil.”

“…I don’t want to be a necessary evil.”

[jojo-schmo]

I wish I could tell the original artist that this drawing permanently changed the entire direction of my life in 2009. I want to shake their hand, look them in the eye, and admit I would not be who I am today if this drawing didn’t exist.

EDIT: Original artist is @ivynajspyder !!!!

[puppyeared]

Pokeymon

@ask-willowleafeon @ask-shiny-umbreon

[waywardstation]

One day Ingo and Emmet return home from being displaced through time and space. Ingo returns with scars and looking as though he's aged years more than he has. Emmet is now French. They have both gone through equal levels of hell 😔

Emmet got to experience mega evolution firsthand. He tells Ingo how cool it was to see pokemon in a bigger and stronger state. Ingo’s like oh that sounds a lot like alpha pokemon. Emmet asks him to elaborate and Ingo just shows him the horrific scars he sustained while he explains it. Emmet’s like WHAT HAPPENED and Ingo realizes this probably shouldn’t be the first thing he shows Emmet.

You also reminded me that I once drew warden Ingo, and then a quick comparison of what I imagined for Emmet during the events of PLA. I don’t think I ever shared this on tumblr. It’d be fun to figure out a more thought-out comparison between them at some point, I think. I have to do it anyways for my fic IWLYB eventually!!

[tojiscrack]

to my all little liars!! (edit: wtf happened to my english? 😭)

we’re at 24.6k words rn 😟 if you plan on reading it next week, i recommend you read it on the weekends when there’s no school or work for you waiting in the morning 😀

calling in the troops rn ‘cause there’s still one final scene i have to write and it’s gonna be LONG (this isn’t including the bonus scene btw) but it’s extremely important for the story to continue, and without it, the rest of the story literally cannot go on 😭

we’re locking in guys. it’s 100% gonna border 30k words for sureee. sm has happened in that ONE chapter and i literally cannot wait to release it for all of you, you have no ideaaa

gonna go to bed and then wake up, study, break, write for the fic, repeat. had to randomly drop an update here cuz i’ve been edging you guys for so long i’m sorryyy, but it really is nearly here <333

edit: fck it guys i’m writing it rn (the immediate comments got me motivated)

[icarusticrat]

Argos :D

Reference photo below ( provided by @kittzuxp, thx :3 )

[stuckinapril]

OK I’ve been having bicurious thoughts and tumblr has to know first

[00fairylights00]

I Guess You Just Don’t Love Me Anymore

GIF from @glowing-starlight on Tumblr

I was so taken by @ash-arts-but-sinful's post which mentions P being jealous of the cat and @oldworldghost’s post which contains the idea of him becoming more mischievous and sassy as he becomes human that I just had to write a little something, I hope it’s alright that I drew on your thoughts for some inspiration!

As a disclaimer, I haven’t finished my first play-through yet so this is more of a character study based off of what I’ve experienced in-game and what I’ve been seeing on Tumblr instead of delving heavily into the world-building and established story that exists within the game. So hopefully no spoilers and it’s very likely that this won’t at all line up with the in-game timeline.

Big thanks to @cupidsredcollar beloved for proofreading <3 

For as long you had known Pinocchio you had never known him to be a jealous individual, in fact, when you’d first met that bleak, overcast morning in Hotel Krat you had been almost unsettled by his uncanny nature. 

His features were perfectly human, aside from the metal prosthetic he’d been fitted with. He had freckles and soft hair, a face that looked fashioned from a real person instead of the smiling caricatures Krat’s puppets were usually fitted with. 

But despite his boyish features, his face barely moved, he nodded along to Sophia as she gave him the task of locating his father, Mr. Geppetto, and tilted his head in question as Lady Antonia explained the concept of lying but his brows didn’t so much as pinch, his lips didn’t quirk and his eyes looked straight through you as you had wished him safety on his travels.

So watching in real time as he came into his own was something you cherished greatly, you continued to watch him grow and change, become something new. Pinocchio chose to spend a lot of his down time with you, he said he found you interesting, that you had a way of explaining humanity that made sense to him and over the last couple of weeks something had started to shift in him.

No, Pinocchio had never been a jealous individual, for as long as you’d known him.

Until today.

Your morning had started normally, woken up by the cool feeling of P’s lips against your forehead, human hand smoothing back your hair. He mumbled something about needing to go out, you tried to convince him to come back to bed, he tried to convince you to get up (he always wins).

P drags you down to the kitchen, you eat and he watches, something that was initially a little awkward but you’ve come to really look forward to, then you farewell each other at the rear entrance of the hotel. 

He holds you close to his chest, resting his lips to your hairline and making you promise to look after yourself and your companions while he’s away, you make him promise to be careful though you know he’s not always able to, often catching glimpses of Sophia muttering blessings and incantations under her breath in the foyer.

“It’s just Ergo hunting today, I’ll be more than careful.” He whispers, human arm winding around your shoulder. You breathe him in, hands to his chest feeling the odd sensation of his heart, not quite a tick but not quite a beat. 

You lean up to kiss against the slant of his jaw, his mechanical pulse jumping in response. He looks down at you, you catch the fondness in his blue eyes without mistake, he captures your lips in his, holding on for a second longer than he knows is necessary (it’s not like you mind though).

Lounging against the doorway, watching him walk towards the entrance of Elysion Boulevard, he turns and gives a last longing look over his shoulder before stepping through the wrought iron gates and disappearing from view.

You sigh, making your way back inside to start on your usual round of chores, helping where you could to take the load off of Polendina who needed more time to focus on Lady Antonia and her illness. You had just returned to the puppet butler for more tasks when you noticed movement on the top of the shelf behind the front desk. 

Sitting tall and proud was Hotel Krat’s resident sweetheart, Spring, tail swishing steadily as she kept watch of the foyer from her perch. The white and orange cat jumped down to the desk as she noticed you, laying down across the dark wood and turning over in gesture for belly rubs; which you gave happily. 

“She’s been very noisy today,” Polendina explained, stroking the cat, “I wonder what she’s trying to tell us?”

“Probably trying to manipulate us into giving her more treats, isn’t that right?” You accused lightly, you were sure that if he could, Polendina would be smiling. 

“There is another load of laundry that needs folding, could I have a hand?” He asked politely.

“Of course Polendina.”

And it seemed you had found yourself a shadow, Spring making an unreasonable amount of noise as she followed you and Polendina around the hotel. She wound between your legs, chirruped in response to your voices and bumped her head against whatever part of your bodies were within her reach. 

It was no surprise that Spring was loved by the inhabitants of the hotel, and it was very apparent that she loved them back, well everyone except for P. Not for lack of trying of course, he followed your advice of trying to build trust between him and the animal but she wouldn’t so much as let P touch her, hissing her disapproval for all to hear.

You’d often watch as P would recoil from Spring, the feline swiping and spitting at the puppet. You couldn’t tell from his expressions if the cat’s dislike for him bummed him out but sometimes as he lay next to you in bed he would lament quietly that Spring hated him, which would award him a sound of humoured pity and a kiss for the cheek.

It wasn’t clear what it was about P that set Spring off so aggressively. In all the time you had spent at Hotel Krat she’d never behaved in such an unfriendly way, even complete strangers who would seek refuge for short periods of time were welcome to interact with Spring freely. 

She would bask in the attention. You hoped that she would eventually come around to the puppet, given it looked like he would be around for the long haul and you just knew the two would be the best of friends if she would stop being so nasty.

But P was patient, far more patient than you were and it showed as you folded and unfolded the same piece of linen for the third time without realising, Polendina placed a gloved hand over your own, silently relieving you of duty.

“Apologies, my mind seems to be elsewhere Polendina.”

“You worry for the boy, it’s only natural that your mind wanders.” You sometimes forget how long Polendina has been around, having been a close companion of Lady Antonia’s for decades. You had a feeling he knew more about human emotions than he let on, somehow he always knew what to say when it came to your thoughts surrounding Geppetto’s Puppet. 

“I just can’t help it, and with him figuring out who he is, I fear he’ll get himself hurt by being too kind.” You wring your hands in your lap, focusing hard on the lines in your skin as you try to keep yourself from thinking of anything too awful.

“He has met humans who have given him trouble before and he has a good head on his shoulders. I would wager that you have nothing to worry about, but I understand that may not put your mind at ease.” 

“It doesn’t but thank you.” Your hand went to Polendina’s shoulder with a smile. “I think I’m going to find something else to do, try and get my mind off of things.”

Polendina nodded once, going back to folding the linens, “I’ll send the boy your way when he returns.”

You smiled in earnest, appreciative of Polendina’s knowing kindness. 

Spring, who had been lounging between you and Polendina, got up, stretching herself out and scampering over to your side. She meowed frantically to grasp your attention. 

Her interruptions continued as you made your way around the kitchen. It wasn’t particularly dirty given how little it was being used now, however, the repetitive action of wiping down the countertops and sweeping the floor were just the distraction you were looking for. 

Your ears perked up at the heavy steps of boots on marble floors, the jingle of P’s belt was something you could identify in your sleep. He stood tall in the doorway, all sweet smiles and fidgeting hands. Happy to see you, always happy to see you.

He was shockingly clean as he approached, resting his forehead to yours as his hands found their place on your waist, all the scolding about tracking oil and muck through the hotel was finally paying off.

You ran your hands over the intricate designs embossed onto the lapel of his coat, smoothing the fabric down before hooking your hands behind his neck.

“Welcome home, pretty boy.” You cooed, brushing your nose against his. 

He liked the small intimacies you shared, bunny kisses you’d come to find were a favourite of his.

“You can go and relax if you want, I’m just cleaning.” You offered, but he shook his head. 

Spring had also gotten bored of waiting on you, brushing up against your legs. So there you stood, sandwiched between your two favourite beings. 

And two shadows wouldn’t be so bad if they would stop getting under foot, you laughed as Spring and P fought for your attention while you made your way around the kitchen.

P hovered close, slinging his arm around your waist as you tried to pass him. You stopped short as he pressed his face into your neck, leaning back against his chest and resting your hands over his wrist. You could feel him smile against your skin, a careful, small smile that only he could manage.

At that moment Spring took it upon herself to jump up onto the counter in front of you, hissing and swiping at P, he scowled and pulled you closer.

“Beast,” he scowled, you gaped at P, smacking the back of your hand at his chest.

“Don’t be horrible, she’s just protecting her territory,” you chided, 

“I haven’t done anything to her, yet she spits at me.” He complained, you thought your ears might be playing tricks on you at the distinct sound of a whine in his tone.

“You love her.” You reminded smugly, a truth he was unable to escape.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” he mumbled, you pushed against his hold, trying to signal your want to move and he hesitantly loosened his grip. Hand ghosting over your waist as he watched you go, you threw a smile over your shoulder which he returned in kind.

You gave Spring a kiss on the head, letting her nuzzle her face against yours before scooping her up and putting her down on the floor where she went back to curling around your legs.

“Ah, so the cat gets a kiss but I don’t?” P asked. You snorted, flinging the rag you’d been using to polish the countertops over your shoulder.

You lent your hip against the counter and crossed your arms over your chest, “you never asked for a kiss, how was I supposed to know that’s what you wanted?”

“I feel like it was obvious.” He placed both of his hands on the counter, stretching his arms out straight as he pushed against the granite. 

You rolled your eyes in jest, unable to keep the fond smile from creeping onto your face, playfully exasperated you closed the short distance between the two of you. Lifting up on your tip-toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, he was quick to move his head once you’d pulled back. Hands to your waist and pulling you against him, sealing his lips to yours so quickly it pulled a sound of shock from your throat.

“What’s up with you today, you’ve been awfully touchy.” You teased, twisting the ends of his hair between your fingers. “Not that I’m complaining of course.”

“Missed you,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead tenderly. 

“I missed you too, always miss you when you’re gone.” You placed a hand on his cheek, thumb rubbing gently under his eye.

He pulled the rag from your shoulder and threw it behind you unceremoniously, taking your hand from his cheek to drag you out of the kitchen, a laugh bubbled out of your throat that P was happy to mischievously return.

He led you to the library, seating you at the piano and turning away to rifle through the sheet music stacked in a crate on the floor. He’d been getting better day by day. 

His body wasn’t exactly built to do delicate actions but that never seemed to stop him, in fact, he was inexplicably drawn to all the soft parts of being human even if initially he was afraid to get it wrong. The last thing he’d ever want to do is hurt anyone close to him and for that reason he was acutely aware of the raw strength he possessed.

Though his conscious effort to be gentle made all the difference.

Spring decided she’d had enough of being ignored, jumping up onto the piano bench and brushing up against you, pressing close and then curling down next to you. P turned around, the particular book of sheet music he was searching for held up in his hand, his expression dropped almost comically as he noticed Spring’s position next to you, taking up what was going to be his spot.

“Move her,” he says simply, you throw your head back with a hearty laugh but P’s serious expression doesn’t change.

“No,” you start with a laugh, “Spring got here first, you’ll have to pull up a chair.”

P continued to stand his ground, you wondered if he hoped his very presence would annoy Spring enough that she’d disappear of her own accord, but the cat only opened one eye. She regarded P from her curled up position before nestling her chin back down into her tail. 

It was like Spring knew she was in his spot and was smugly showing off to him, purring loudly.

“P, I’m not moving the cat. Just come and sit on the other side of me.” You insisted, watching as his unappreciated love for the animal won out and he stalked off to get a chair. You chuckled under your breath and passed your fingers through Spring’s soft fur.

“You are so mean to him, you know? He’s quite fond of you and I think you two would be very good friends if you gave him the chance.” You whispered to the cat who ignored you, continuing to purr unabashedly.

Unbeknownst to you, P watched your interaction with the feline from the doorway, his chest feeling warm in a way he wasn’t quite used to yet. Touched by your words that you thought were falling on deaf ears.

He gave in to your fondness for the cat, pulling his chair up next to you, fingers gently flitting across the keys as you hummed softly, head resting comfortably on his shoulder. He decided he didn’t mind this so much.

Late in the evening, however, he decided he did mind. 

You were curled up in your bed a book in hand and Spring dozing lazily in your lap, he entered the room and his shoulders physically dropped.

“What’s the matter?” You asked, thumb placed between the pages of your book as a makeshift bookmark. 

“Nothing,” he mumbled, sitting down unceremoniously on the edge of your bed to take off his shoes.

You placed the now forgotten book on your bedside cabinet, the act of sitting up a little difficult with the cat in your lap. You reached for his shoulder but he shrugged off your hand, trying to hide the action by stripping off his coat.

He stood and draped the coat over the back of your desk chair and moved to unbutton his waistcoat, all while staring down Spring with a scowl.

It clicked.

“Are you jealous of the cat?” You wanted deeply to believe that your Pinocchio was not jealous of a cat, but you couldn’t come up with a more sound explanation.

“I don’t know what that word means.” He lied, avoiding your gaze entirely, unbuckling his belt and dumping it on the desk, Gemini didn’t say anything so you assumed he mustn’t be awake.

“Yes you do,” you rolled your eyes, “I remember very clearly the conversation we had about it.” 

He didn’t respond, turning his back to you and focusing his attention on rifling through the dresser drawer full of his clothes. The sleep clothes he was looking for were folded at the end of the bed.

“It’s okay that you’re jealous of-”

“I am not jealous.” Quick, concise and with no room for argument, he spun back on you. His snapping didn’t phase you.

“Uh huh,” you teased with a smirk, turning all your attention back to Spring who’d been ignoring your exchange.

Perhaps what you were doing was a little mean, given that before you hadn’t been ignoring him on purpose, but it was too fun an opportunity to pass up. P let out a disgruntled huff, shuffling around in your peripheral.

“I guess you just don’t love me anymore.” He offered with his arms crossed over his chest, your jaw dropped and a shocked laugh fell out of your open mouth.

“You take that back, immediately!” You snapped playfully, sitting up fully and annoying the cat enough for her to get up and move.

“Make me.” The challenge he’d levied would mean conceding to his childish behaviour but after all he’d been through, you thought it only fair. 

You pulled the sheets back and stood from the bed, crossing the room to him. He tried to act as though he was uninterested, tried to pretend that your hands on his chest didn’t affect him, tried to ignore the speed of his heart as it hammered under your palm.

Your hands travelled the beaten path they always did, from his chest to his collarbone, then hooking behind his neck. Trying to pull him down was useless, like trying to topple a brick wall with bare hands, but you caught him staring out of the corner of his eye.

“Look at me.” Your whisper was a command, and he had always been faithful to a fault. “I love you.”

He tried to hide the oncoming smile, dropping his chin to his chest, but you were quick to guide his gaze back to yours. There was no way you’d be missing that careful grin. His eyes were soft and gentle when they met your own, there was hesitance in them that you didn’t want to see, so you kissed him.

He melted against you, arms winding around your back and pulling you against his chest, you hummed and he couldn’t stop the full blown grin from forming on his lips; breaking away to look at you like a giddy school boy.

“Are you going to take it back?” You asked, brushing your nose against his in a bunny kiss. 

“Will I still get to kiss you if I do?” He joked, you rolled your eyes albeit in good nature, hands cradling his cheeks as he continued to smile.

“I think that can be arranged,” you mused, leaning in to kiss him again, the two of you falling into familiar rhythm with one another.

Spring slinked out of the partially open door, tail held high, she had seen more than enough.

[plaid-maniac]

Do you ever think about how there totally could have been an old classmate of Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth in the audience during like turnabout sister or turnabout samurai. Do you think they would realize? Like “hey, were those the guys in my class in like fourth grade? I kinda remember them. Wonder if they remember each other. But it was so long ago, I doubt they would even care.” Meanwhile Edgeworth and Phoenix are undergoing the most insane mental battles where both of them are going “I recognize my best friend across the courtroom and I desperately want to be close with them again.” And “god he is so god damn annoying I wish he would die already.”

[aroanthy]

i love how fraught and complicated discourse around various utena characters ‘dying’ is when anthy is literally stabbed to death eternally by a million swords imbued with human hatred. and then utena gets stabbed to death by them also. like. ‘death’ is incredibly interesting in rgu because most of the time it’s this ambiguous figurative thing that has interesting implications re: ohtori as a closed-off world one can escape. we are all trapped in our coffins. mamiya is the only named character with a grave. nemuro memorial hall functions as one all the same. ruka is implied to have died in the hospital— was he dead all along? who was the boy we saw for these two episodes? is this dead boy the same boy, or is this just another coincidence from the shadow girls, cutting like a knife? it’s heavily implied that akio and anthy murder kanae by poisoning her, adding to the previous implication that they were poisoning mr ohtori too, but there are no perceptible consequences of this. kanae’s absence is not felt. she’s fed an apple slice. what happens to the bodies? we know what happened to the 100 boys, but what about everyone else? and so on and so forth. ‘death’ is a tricky thing in utena, i think it’s constantly functioning on figurative and literal levels in very different ways for very different purposes. dios died. dios was dying. dios didn’t die. he grew up. etc etc