#though admittedly the lack of sensation does make it rather more difficult

[hikari-ni-naritai]

Feels like some level of sensation is returning, 4 months after surgery, cause there's some weird shit going on down there that was much less pronounced a few months ago. Not sure what I'm supposed to do with it though. To all those girls in manga and anime who never figured out how to masturbate on their own, I'm sorry for thinking you were stupid. It really was much more intuitive with a dick.

#though admittedly the lack of sensation does make it rather more difficult #that and i don't have any idea what to expect so I'm hesitant to do it outside of the shower #extremely tmi sorry but also im honor bound to chronicle my post-surgical experience publicly on my blog #so you have to read about it

[at-the-exd-of-everythixg]

1. Love || 4. Fears || 5. crying || 6. Laughter || 8. Dreams || 11. Best Friend || 13. Hair || 15. Hands || 17. Scars || 22. Family || 23. Romance || 26. Beauty || 30. Sex || 32. Birth || 35. Guilt || 36. Sacrifice || 39. secret || 41. Memory ][For Mahogany][

@blind-mutant

Love

A lot of Mahogany's view of love has always been rather religious and platonic. There was love from Old Alpha as she took care of them and taught them and Mahogany distantly knows that their mother loved them, but other than that, Mahogany has grown up on a pedestal placed by worshippers and the terrifying love of the Moder. Meeting Rhys and having a chance to make actual friends that aren't ancient worshippers means that Mahogany loves their friends deeply and will very much so do anything in order to protect and make their friends happy and feel loved.

Fears

Due to growing up coddled and kept away from most things, Mahogany doesn't exactly have a sense of what's dangerous and what isn't. After they get into the real world, Mahogany often will learn first hand why they need to be cautious over certain things, such as being hit by a car or being put into a bath of hot water (coughRhyscough). While it's useful for the fact that Mahogany isn't scared of small things like spiders or rats, Mahogany also doesn't really realise the danger that they can put themself and others into unfortunately.

Crying

Mahogany doesn't have enough water in their body to cry. Or more specifically, they don't actually have tear ducts (usually this means they just lick their eyeballs to wetten them). Instead Mahogany just makes loud nosies and copies crying, which can be more creepy than sad admittedly, or they simply curl into the corner and scratch things. Sometimes they scratch the walls and floor, but sometimes they scratch themself because at least then it feels like some sort of outlet when you can't make things pour from the eyes.

Laughter

Full anime cackle baby. Mahogany throws their head back and usually thumps their hands on the nearest surface and occasionally if it's REALLY funny they'll kick their legs out. Usually their tail forms and it starts wagging wildly and Mahogany will often keep grinning after they've laughed. They're the type of person whose favourite jokes are all about why the chicken crossed the road.

Dreams

Mahogany doesn't dream. The only time they do is if they're tapping into someone's head or if they're tired enough that they pass out. Mahogany only sleeps for a short amount of time and usually their dreams relate to the Moder still or tend to be useful memories being brought forth. Only rarely does Mahogany dream of their mother and they treasure those dreams of Robyn deeply.

Best friend

They didn't exactly have any real friends growing up since....no one was their age or at least stayed their age. But Mahogany probably would have said that Old Alpha was their best friend since she always sat with them, taught them, fed them and then Old Alpha would take them out to see the real world and play games with them. Mahogany considers Old Alpha their best friend for years until they meet Rhys or Abby and they become Mahogany's best friend.

Hair

Mahogany's hair is more connected to their nervous system than most, which is how they're able to feel things easily. Their hair grows rather slowly and it takes a few years for it to grow back once cut and it dulls some of their senses, much like how a cat struggles with some stuff once its whiskers have been cut off. Mahogany doesn't enjoy having their hair up in a bun or any tight styles as it cuts off some form of sensation and they tend to pull their hair out of it quote roughly. Also they love sniffing hair.

Hands

Rat hands. Mahogany has long nails that are jagged and more sharper so basically claws while their fingers are longer and much more thinner than a normal person's. Funny enough, Mahogany lacks the little wrinkles people have on their hands so...they've got really smoth hands to hold. Their hands have a lot of calluses and feel a bit more like cat beans from where their front hands shift into paws when in their Moder form. Likewise, their feet are harder and slightly curved in from how they shift into hooves.

Scars

Mahogany rarely takes scarring due to their powers making them denser and more detached from this reality, but when The Town burned down, it left a severe scar across their stomach up from their navel after they needed to find energy to survive their connection being snapped. Until they form another connection to build up power, Mahogany is more susceptible to being harmed and scarred, such as being shot or the other Jötun that harmed Rhys and admittedly Abby could scar them quite badly now if they were to get into a fight (especially since when meeting, Mahogany is quite deprived of physical and devine meals).

Family

Mahogany adores family. How could they not? Family has been everything for them growing up and it's the very place where power and home lies. Old Alpha was the one who started everything and Mahogany loves her more than life for years to come and still cries over her sometimes. And while they didn't know who their father was or where he went (Died immediately after Moder possessed his body to uh. Have the Build a Bear parts to make an heir), but Mahogany doesn't care. The only thing that's ever really bothered them is how little they remember their mother. All Mahogany has of Robyn is fuzzy memories of a soft voice and being kissed and heartbeats. When they're upset, Mahogany will tap surfaces at time in the same way Robyn's heart went.

Romance

Mahogany is all about romantic gestures once they get the idea of it! They go out and collect flowers, find things that they know their partner likes smelling or drinking and uh...collects the biggest kills they can get in order to seem more impressive towards their mate. Mahogany also starts grooming constantly and ensuring that their hair is nicely fluffed up and that their teeth crunch though the toughest material. They'll give a gift almost every week, especially if their partner likes it.

Beauty

Mahogany knows, that as a monster born from terror and an entire mythology dedicated to gods, they are beautiful and terrifying. Their hair is messy and long and can sense so many things, they can smell and hear much better than any other human, their devine form makes their horns regal and the many mouths and hands and eyes send people crying in joy and fear. Everyone is born with the body they are meant to have and while they don't understand why someome would want to change their body, Mahogany loves them and they love their own angular sharpness and there should be no reason for anyone to NOT want to spend all day feeding them.

Sex

Sex is a...new concept. It was had in The Town but Mahogany never really had a way of knowing it outside of Old Alpha reading them a bunch of puberty books that goes past the 18th century for boys and girls. Beyond that? Mahogany knows that they like licking themself especially well when thinking about a crush but when it comes to actual sex they're clueless for the first few times and the cues of it. Though Mahogany is very eager in sex to pleasure their partner and wants to be worshipped and to tease...although they also enjoy the idea of having a partner that can forced their head down and lift their ass by their tail to fill and rut them good?? Well, Mahogany has made their vulva swollen with those thoughts.

Birth

Ah yes. Birth. When you fill a bath of boiling blood, cut yourself open with a sacrifice and allow your Norse goddess to bless you with child. Y'know. Beats the queue at mothercare. Mahogany was born this way and um. Technically came from the body of a deer?? Robyn loved them immediately anyway and was the most insufferable mum now that she had not only the nordic antichrist, but the only child in The Town at all. It's part of the reason why Mahogany wants to make their own frozen home, so that they can ensure the same attention and effort into making their family as perfectly as posisble. Especially since the whole ritual takes a large amount of energy and effort.

Guilt

While Mahogany never really talks or thinks about it if they can help it, they feel a lot of guilt that he couldn't help their home, their worshipers. That Moder gave them so much power to do so much and all Mahogany really did was let people and a whole home die. They don't like facing their past mistakes and Mahogany will do anything posisble to try and save anyone close to them if needed. When they were younger, they used to turn their own power on themself subconsciously, which hurt even more to see someone from The Town wandering about in the woods before dispersing into ash.

Sacrifice

Mahogany is selfish. Therefore they would refuse to sacrifice anything that truly means something to them. Sure, sacrificing a meal or something to care for a mate is diffrent, but if Mahogany was forced to give up their power or the idea of a new home? Well, Mahogany has an embedded loyalty to Moder that not even a partner could break. Not unless Mahogany was willing to give up their power and to become human or something similar.

Secret

Mahogany is difficult at and with secrets. They can barely hide something they've been told, yet they can keep their own secrets for years on end. If you want to know something then you have to ask them for a while before they might finally spill. Their biggest secrets so far is that they lied when telling Old Alpha that they didn't remember their mother and when Moder told them to leave The Town for a while. That was when they came back to find everything had died.

Memory

Memories are usually when Mahogany's age starts to show. They're old as shit and the things they talk about at times show it, mostly from being with other ageless humans. But then Mahogany struggles to temper certain pathways to go or if Rhys told them to get a bigger rat or no rat at all to bring home??? Living for such a long time within a town where everything is the same means that Mahogany might struggle to remember certain events or faces, especially if they changed rapidly. Mahogany will never recognise Abby in his human form at first, probably never since it's such a stark contrast.

#ask #blind-mutant #headcanon #the monster of forgotten midnights (mahogany) #hoo boy!!

[owlespresso]

An Evening in the Life / Nhaza’a

Nhaza’a Jaab/m!Reader My commissions are open, and I write headcanon lists/drabbles for ko-fi donations! 2 ko-fis = one list/drabble! My ko-fi can be found HERE. There is spice below the read-more. 

Thanalan is cold at night. The temperature seeps into your skin through your armor and leathers, fabric and metal splattered with the blood of your deceased target–a large monster that had been troubling the locals for the past few suns. Fatigue rattles your bones and steals the breath from you, back of your throat burned raw. It’s a soreness you haven’t experienced in awhile, and it makes you weary.

So weary that you don’t notice the coyote that had been tailing you until it crouches on its haunches and leaps–or at least tries to. The silver of a rogue blade sinks in between its shoulders, straight through its throat. Its ghastly gurgling whine splits the air and finally causes you to whip around, eyes wide as you behold Nhaza’a’s form, illuminated by pale moonlight.

His sword is slick with blood as he pulls it from the beast, his boot planted on its haunch. 

“To think, the vaunted Warrior of Light failed to notice such a clumsy beast on his tail.” He tuts at you, pulling a cloth from one of his pockets to wipe down his blade, cleaning it thoroughly before sliding it back into its sheath. “...You’re a sight for sore eyes. What’s wrong? Did you help too many poor grannies across the street?”

“No. It was a hunt.” You grumble, turning around to continue on your way. You’re not in the mood to humor him. If he wants to be a cynical asshole to you, he can wait until tomorrow to do it.

“Ah. My apologies, wait–” His boots thump against the ground, kicking up sand and coarse dirt. You’re not given any other warning before his hand plants atop your shoulder, eagerly tugging you backwards. Your body, weakened from the day’s activities, lacks the strength to stand firm and topples backwards into his broad chest. “Allow me to treat you to a drink.” He beseeches, a gloved hand stroking your jaw, his good eye hooded low and sultry.

You inhale shakily, collect yourself. Your hands curl into fists at your side.

“And something to eat?” You inquire, raising an eyebrow sharply.

“Your wish is my command.” Nhaza’a acquiesces with a simple sigh, resting a jeweled hand on his hip. “If that is what I must do to make up for my transgressions, then so be it.”

And that’s how you’ve landed up here, sitting across from him whilst the tavern hustles and bustles around you, resting your cheek on the palm of your hand. The smell of freshly cooked food wafts over you and causes your stomach to growl, reminding you that you had skipped lunch. Your glazed gaze flickers over the laminated menu, caught between the steak and the garlic butter chicken.

It’s difficult to decide, not when you’re so exhausted and have so much on your mind. The image of him, outlined in the fine veneer moonlight.

“Is there something on your mind?” Nhaza’a asks, taking a quaint sip from his margarita glass. He gazes keenly at you, that near constant smirk gone from his face, replaced with something gentler, more contemplative. 

“Why did you save me?” You finally pluck up the courage to ask. It’s been on your mind since you walked in, his arm wrapped near possessively around your shoulder. Only now, that you’ve been given space, can you finally voice your nagging curiosity. “I’ve done nothing but oppose you and be a thorn in your side. Killing me while I was vulnerable would have been the best move for you to make.”

“Always full of cheer and merriment, aren’t you?” He drawls, sighing as you settle him with a firm glare. “Alright, alright. Your question is valid, I will admit. Though the answer is simple. I don’t need to kill you, at least not yet. While you inconvenience me every now and then, you typically do not stop me from doing my good work. And if I did not have you, who would amuse me during my free time?” The corners of his lips curl into a mischievous little smile, eyelids dipping low, voice pitching into a delightful croon.

“You decided to let me live because you like fucking me?” You deadpan, incredulous. In all honesty, you wouldn’t put it past him. For all the grandiose arrogance he speaks with, his goals are rather simpleminded. 

He wants a fight, a hunt, something to thrill and entertain. The exhilaration is all he cares about, so it makes sense that he would keep you around.

“No, no. I would not say it’s the only reason. I appreciate your company on more than just a physical level,” Nhaza’a says, and has the nerve to roll his eye. “I’m not a savage. If I was simply looking for a few holes to fuck, there are plenty of prostitutes lining the streets of Ul’dah for me to pick from. But they cannot give me what you can.” His blatant honesty and the crudeness of it nearly makes you shy all over again, but you manage to hold your ground, instead shoving your face into your hands. You rub the bridge of your nose.

You’re the Warrior of Light. Slayer of gods, savior of countries. So why are you sitting across from a mass murderer? Why did you even entertain the idea of spending time with him in the first place? “Come now,” he coaxes, attempting to bring your attention back to him. “Truly. Am I that awful to be around?”

“You’re mediocre at best,” you reply with little to no hesitation, the small frown on your face refusing to budge. 

“Fair enough, but I have a feeling you’ll be singing a different tune in a mere few hours.” His voice pitches low and it causes a flicker of liquid need to blot your lower stomach. You inhale swift and cross your legs, snuffing out any of the unfortunate arousal before it could even start.

“There’s no any fucking way. Not again.” You swore fearlessly as the barista placed two drinks in front of you both. You reached for the tankard and took a massive swig, attempting to hide your face whilst attempting to get your chaotic emotions under control. 

I am not affected, you say to yourself a mantra that goes obsessive, I am not affected, I am not—

---

“Fuck!” Your breath is wrung from you in a humiliating squeal, fingers curling helplessly into the silken sheets. Never again, you repeat to yourself, even as Nhaza’a drew your cock into his very talented mouth. Your hips twitch and wriggle even as he holds them down, his arms wrapped tight around your thighs to pin them to the sheets. 

At the very least, his mouth is occupied. If it weren’t, you don’t doubt he’d be mercilessly raking you over the coals for going back on your word.

He will, you know, but for now, all you can do is settle back and enjoy the slow draw of his tongue along the underside of your stiff cock. He spares you no quarter, refuses you the time to regain your bearings and actually think.

All you can process is the way his fingers splay across your inner thighs from their awkward position, all you can understand is the way he hollows out his cheeks and sucks. At one point or another, the back of his tongue rises to brush against your tip and the smattering of pleasure that assaults you makes you see stars. 

There is no way to coordinate yourself, because you’re hurtling towards the edge, bathed from head to toe in white hot pleasure. He does this beautiful little thing where he hollows his cheeks and you get to cling on for another moment before you’re gone. The first orgasm of the night is wrung from your aching body. Your muscles still throb and ache from the strenuous hunt, but you’re tipsy and needy and all you can think about is the way he swallows each drop of cum like it’s ambrosia.

“What was that about ‘never again’?” Nhaza’a wastes not a moment after pulling off your cock. Smugness drips from his every pore. If you weren’t currently basking in the afterglow of an admittedly incredible climax, you’d have to resist the urge to sock him in the face.

Rather than be deterred by your silence, it only seems to motivate him.

“I believe you meant ‘until I find someone who fucks me better than you do’. In which case, allow me to assure you that will never happen.” Nhaza’a nips at your inner thighs, smiling at the way the muscle twitches.

“Stop wagging your tongue and fuck me already.” You grumble. Trying to argue against his nearly neverending narcissism is an unwinnable battle. No matter how many times you wipe the floor with him in combat, he’ll always have that smug smirk, always hold himself high above most, if not all of the general populace.

“So demanding,” he sighs. He climbs up the mattress regardless and presses his lips to your own in a violent, conquesting kiss. The sandpaper texture of his tongue makes your eyes shut and your thoughts begin to slip through your damn fingers.

He works your body with a finesse you have hardly ever experienced, opening you slowly with slicked fingers. Your breath leaves you in short sighs and moans, sharp intakes and exhales that mismatch with the chaotic rhythm your heartbeat has set.

By the time he begins to curl his fingers just right, you fall over the precipice, spilling over your own stomach with a pitched cry. 

“Twice already?” Nhaza’s sounds, sounding both surprised and impressed all in the same. It’s an emotion you’re not used to hearing in his voice, but you’re hardly granted a moment to think about it before you feel his tip press against your aching hole. “You can give me another, can’t you?” He asks, nuzzling your collarbone with a contented sigh. He rasps his tongue over your warm collarbone, adding to the overwhelming cacophony of sensations.

“M-mhm,” you nod shakily and shut your eyes, mouth opening around a sanguine cry. His cock throbs large and hot inside of you, pressing against your walls in a way that makes you squirm and wiggle on the sheets, against his broad body. Your thoughts melt away, body and mind lost to the brutal rhythm he sets with his hips.

The mattress screams and creaks underneath your undulating bodies, the force sending you up the mattress, mere inches away from the headboard. In the back of your mind, you’re aware of his rumbling moans, broken and broad noises that sound alongside deep purrs.

You’re not fully there when you climax, oversensitive, oversaturated with divine sensation. Another gush of hot cum drips onto your sweaty stomach, the breath knocked from your lungs. He fucks you through it, his tempo growing ragged and unsteady until he pulls out, spilling over your stomach with a growling moan. The hotness washes over your toned muscles, making you wince.

Boneless, melting, you descend into a slight doze, barely beginning to catch your breath. Nhaza’a drops to your side. The mattress bounces underneath the new weight. Even though he isn’t touching you at the moment, he’s less than an ilm away, allowing you to feel the warmth he radiates like a warm hearth.

Your consciousness comes fully back to you in sluggish waves, and the first thing you realize with your newfound awareness is the terrible mess on your stomach.

“Fuck.” you sigh, internally complain, and push yourself to your feet. Soreness has already hooked its claws into your hips and thighs, and you suspect it will only grow worse in the next few hours.

Never again, you settle into the comfort of your repetitive mantra, opening the bathroom door and limping inside. Never again.

---

“Out all of the places you could have fled to, and you come to me.” Nhaza’a runs his fingers over your shoulders, the flat of his palm settling between them. Your cheek rests over his heart, your entire body like a limp blanket atop him. 

“Can you stop being a taunting asshole for a few minutes?” You snap, voice unusually on edge even for him. He quiets, giving you the mercy of a comfortable silence as you wiggle around, adjusting your position to fit your liking. 

There was no one else you could have gone to, you tell yourself. Everyone knew you as the infallible Warrior of Light, the realm’s protector and strongest champion. You didn’t grieve, you didn’t get sad, or scared, or anxious. You never tire of your duty and that’s what makes you so reliable. That’s why so many look up to you. 

If you go to anyone who believes in you, who admires you, they’ll only be let down by your current state. The illusion of the invincible warrior will be shattered, and that will sow doubt, maybe discontent.

“I’m glad you’re making yourself comfortable,” Nhaza’a sighs forlornly. You can’t tell if he’s teasing or not, so you don’t snap at him. You simply rest against his body and savor the surprisingly gentle touches he gifts you. His fingers press to your aching back, rubbing rhythmatic circles over the skin. Your shirt had been discarded at the door, leaving your torso on display for him to ogle. “Tell me, why didn’t you go to one of your innumerable worshipers?”

“None of them know how much of a mess I can be,” you grumble into his collarbone, too tired to put up a front and lie about it. You’ve lied to so many people. You’re tired of it. You need at least someone in your life to know that you’re mortal, that you’re a real person. 

“You’ve opted to show your vulnerability to me bechttps://owlespresso.tumblr.com/post/626018240329646080/an-evening-in-the-life-nhazaaause I’m the only one who gets to take part in it? I must say, I’m honored.” Nhaza’a drawls. A purr begins to steadily rumble in his chest. The noise soothes you into shutting your eyes, more than happy to let yourself drift to sleep. 

You don’t know how you’re able to rest so contentedly in the arms of a known enemy, but you’re too tired to think about it. If you have to contemplate the morality of what you’re doing for a moment longer, you’ll lose your damn mind.

Tonight is about you, and getting what makes you comfortable. Rest of the world be damned. 

After another few moments, you’re jolted from your doze. Nhaza’s hand presses against your back as he shifts, promptly dropping you off of his body and onto your side. Any possible question you could have asked dies on your lips as he spoons you, his broad torso pressing against your back, an arm draped over your waist. His warm breath brushes over the back of your neck, sending a slight shiver up your spine…

One that vanishes after a few moments. You once again relax into the plush mattress, pressing your noise to the sheets and inhaling the sweet scent that you’ve come to associate with him. Spices, brandy, something strange and floral mixed in there. You can’t tell, so you don’t bother trying. It’s much better and much too easier to lose yourself among the sea of sheets and blankets and pillows and warmth.

This is the most relaxed you’ve been in weeks, resting in your enemy’s bed.

#nhaza'a jaab #nhaza'a #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #imagine ffxiv #imagine final fantasy xiv #final fantasy

[evalinkatrineberg]

Book Club?

A/N: Thank you @ladyreggiewright for a fun rp! Who would’ve thought that Reggie and Evalin would get along so well?! 

The words in the french textbook on the table in front of me were starting to blur at this point. How long had I been in the library now? Four hours? Five? I had lost track, and was too scared to look at my watch to check. This was ridiculous. I had grown up bilingual. Learning a third language shouldn’t be a difficult task for me to accomplish, and yet, French grammar was throwing me for a loop. What language needed five past tenses? It was excessive, in my opinion.

I rubbed my eyes, forcing them to focus on the words printed in the book once again. Behind me, I could hear footsteps approaching, the sound of someone's shoes hitting the floor reverberating through the nearly empty library. Whoever it was stopped two chairs over from where I was sitting, and curiosity got the better of me. Tucking my loose hair behind my ears, I looked up.

It was Reggie Wright. That was one name I couldn’t forget. When discussing the other Selected girls before I came here, Lydia and June had both been extremely eager to share their opinions on what they were sure the other girls would be like. They ended up coming to the same conclusions for most of the Selected, but Reggie had become a point of contention between the two of them. Lydia had insisted that Reggie must be a haughty know-it-all, citing many photos of her not smiling, and her job at a law firm - a home for the hoity-toity folk, as Lydia called it - as proof. June had disagreed, arguing that Reggie and I were actually probably quite similar, which seemed like a logical theory to me. She had pulled up some instagram fan account of some sort dedicated to Reggie, which was filled with pictures of her doing normal, everyday things, along with many photos of her smiling. She had a really nice smile, I had to admit.

I caught Reggie’s eye as she took her seat, flashing her a grin before turning back to my notes. Where was I? Right, past tenses. Why were there so many?

Reggie cleared her throat, pulling my focus back to her again. She was wearing a casual dress, with her hair pulled back into a low ponytail. When she saw she had my attention, she asked, “Making progress?”

I glared at my book. The truth of the matter was I had been making progress, up until I had hit these past tenses. French vocabulary wasn’t particularly challenging, considering the Latin roots of many of the words, which made me grateful that so much terminology in biology was rooted in Latin. However, I’d been struggling with the past tenses for a few days now, which wasn’t ideal, to say the least. “A bit,” I finally answered. “Not as much as I’d like.”

Reggie hummed thoughtfully for a moment, opening her own book and clicking her pen. She looked away from me, and began to pick up my own pen, confident that that was to be the sum of our interaction. She didn’t strike me as a particularly talkative person.

“Anything in particular you’re studying?”

Oh, so she does want to have a conversation, then.

“French,” I answered. “I thought it might prove useful - more useful than my Swendish, at least. What about you? What brings you here?” I lifted my gaze to meet hers.

She flipped up the cover of the book she had just placed on the table and replied, “Discourse on Inequality.” I felt the color rising to my cheeks as she leaned over, inspecting my own notes and book. “French, huh? I consider it to be useful in my life so far.”

My brain put two and two together in that moment, and I realized that this could be a golden opportunity. Not only could I possibly find myself another friendly face around here, but maybe she’d be willing to help me out as well. “You speak it, then? Could I ask you a question about the past tense forms of verbs, then?”

With a sigh, she straightened her posture in her chair, clicking her pen as she turned towards me. “If you must.”

Perfect. “What’s the difference between the passé antérieur and the imparfait?” I put my pen down on top of my notebook before adding, “Why would you use one over the other?”

“The passé antérieur is not something you’d have to concern yourself with.” I found myself blinking as she spoke. Her pronunciation of the words was absolutely flawless. How long had she been speaking French? With a frown, she continued, “It’s hardly ever used in speaking. Sometimes, it’s used in old literary texts, however even natives don’t use it.”

Well, shit. What had I even been studying then? The textbook I had found must have been outdated. I dared to consider how much of the rest of what I had been learning might be unnecessary as well, but then dismissed the thought. Better to be over-prepared than underprepared, I supposed. Raising my eyebrows, I picked up my pen and drew a line through my notes on the passé antérieur, glad that in the very least, I wouldn’t have to waste time rewriting them later. “I see. Thank you.” I met her gaze once again, and added, “Is there something I can help you with in return?”

At my question, she started to scoff, and I felt my heart drop in my chest a bit. It appeared that Lydia had been right after all. “I doubt,” Reggie began, trailing off as she narrowed her eyes at me. “Wait, you’re the biology student, correct?”

Well, this was a twist. I wasn’t surprised that Reggie knew who I was, considering how much I and the other girls I had spoken to had prepared ourselves on information about the other girls here, but the fact that she had chosen to identify me but that one aspect of myself was intriguing to me. It really shouldn’t have been, if I was being honest, since studying biology was, admittedly, my defining character trait for most of my life, but Reggie struck me as the kind of person who would memorize names, faces, castes, and provinces before anything else.

I smiled in response. “Yes, that’s me.”

At that, she leaned in, extending her hand towards me, a polite smile plastered on her face. A job interview smile, is what I’d always referred to that expression as. It was almost like I was sitting at the lab table with a new coworker. In fact, I half expected someone to walk in and ask us if we wanted coffee or water.

“I’m Reggie,” she stated. “Nice to meet you, first of all.”

I mirrored her expression, extending my hand and shaking hers. God, the mannerisms, in combination with the outfit I had worn - black dress pants with a red blouse - really hit home the sensation of being back at work. Yet, this time when I thought about the lab, I wasn’t overwhelmed by butterflies in my stomach or a lump forming in my throat, but rather a sense of warmth that seemed to center me, grounding me in the moment. I could get used to this.

“Yes, you’re the political science student from Hansport, correct? I’m Evalin. It’s nice to meet you, too.” I withdrew my hand, reaching over to pick up my pen, which I then tapped against my chin. “So, what can I help you with?”

She nodded, raising both of her eyebrows, as if she might be surprised that I actually knew something about her. Odd. I found myself wondering who she had spoken to before this. Were there girls here who didn’t obsess over who they’d be spending the next few months of their lives with before they came here? I couldn’t fathom the idea.

“Well,” she began, “it’s been brought to my attention that I lack some knowledge on nature.” A grimace flashed across her face, and she cleared her throat before continuing. “Anyway, ecology being quite a broad field, perhaps you have some recommendations for me for some general information.”

Nature? Really? Of all things, why did she need more information on nature? Then again, who was I to stop her from learning more about anything. Maybe if she became interested enough in the subject, we could discuss it together. My main interest might be in cellular biology, but it had been so long since I’d talked to anyone about anything science related, that I’d take whatever I could get.

I hummed thoughtfully, continuing to tap my pen against my chin as I wracked my brain for titles she might find useful. “I believe I can. Are you looking for information about ecosystems, or something more along the lines of conservation or biodiversity?” I offered her an apologetic smile before adding, “Ecology is a broad field.”

She frowned, flipping through her notes for a moment before turning back to face me, her expression entirely serious. “Both. Both would be good.”

“Well,” I began, collecting my thoughts, “The Theory of Ecology by Mark Vellend might be a good place to start. Walden by Henry David Thoreau is probably right up your alley, too.” After a moment, I added, “I also have a book that I brought from home called Elements of Ecology that’s pretty comprehensive, but it’s a little dry. It definitely teaches a lot, though.” I narrowed my eyes. This might be my opportunity to learn a little more, too. Sure, she wasn’t a university professor, but she definitely appeared to be knowledgeable about political science. “Do you have any recommendations for someone who might be interested in learning more about political science, but is new to it?”

“Excellent.” She scribbled something down in her notebook, before looking back at me and blinking a couple of times. “Give me a moment.” I watched as she walked around some of the shelves, pausing to pull one off the shelf every now and then. When she was satisfied with her work, she returned to the table, placing five books down in front of me with a small smile. I decided then that I liked this side of Reggie. I was half tempted to ask her if she wanted to start a book club, considering the exchange of materials that was already happening.

Slow down. You’ve only just met her.

I returned her smile. “Thank you. I could give you my copy of Elements if Ecology, if you want. I actually think I might have it in my bag.” I reached down for my backpack, which was at my feet, leaning against the chair. It didn’t take me long to find the book. It was rather bulky, and hard to miss.

“Oh.” She cleared her throat. “That would certainly be appreciated, yes. I will treat it with care, of course.”

I smiled at her, quickly pulling out some old note pages I had stored in the cover of the book before handing it over to her. “I have no doubts that you will. Keep it as long as you need.”

“Thank you, that is,” she paused for a moment, before finishing with, “kind.” She took the book, smiling politely as she quickly read the cover and walked back to her chair, sitting back down. After looking the book over some more and shaking her head, she turned back to me, inclining her head slightly. “So, you take this Selection serious enough to study for it, I see.”

“Well, I don’t want to look like a fool next to people like you, or Jen Li,” I admitted, shaking my head. “Biology may have provided me with the skills I need to be successful in a variety of fields, but it hasn’t provided me with the specialized knowledge for any settings outside of the lab.”

She held her head a little higher as she replied, “Good. Not all the girls mind looking like a fool, I suppose.” There was the Reggie Lydia seemed to expect, again. I couldn’t help but think about the other girls I had spoken to, and felt a pang of regret for not sticking up for them. Reggie, however, let out a short sigh, and then smiled at me once again. “I’m sure that with your academic background, you’ll catch up, even outside of a lab.”

I smiled a little wider at that. It was almost like being praised by a professor. “Thank you. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble with ecology, either. It’s quite conceptual, in comparison to other subjects within biology, and intersects with various social sciences.”

She nodded. “Yes, I’m sure I’ll manage, thank you.” Again, she carefully lifted the cover of the book, checking the contents with a look of almost apprehension, a frown growing across her face. She turned back to me then, and asked, “Are you enjoying your stay?”

“Yes,” I answered immediately. It wasn’t a lie, but so much had happened, it was hard to pinpoint exactly how everything had left me feeling. I had discovered that it was easier to just focus on the highlights of being here. “Everybody has been kind so far, and the grounds themselves are amazing. There’s so many nice running trails, and between that, the gardens, and the access to the library, what more could I ask for, really?” I finished with a smile. “What about you?”

“I am,” she replied, though she was frowning. “It is challenging in terms of time management, but definitely a lot of new experiences.”

“Yeah,” I echoed in agreement, my eyes going a little wide as I shook my head. With a sigh, I continued, “I can relate to that. I never would have experienced even a quarter of what I’ve experienced here at home. I presume you’ve had some interesting meetings as well, then?”

She pursed her lips, but then said, “Interesting, yes, that’s probably the best way to describe them.” With a sideways glance at me, she added, “The prince is interesting as well.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. “Really?” I’d hardly been able to get more than a scripted nicety out of him. What had she discussed with him? “You must have had a much more scintillating discussion than he and I did.”

To my surprise, she shook her head, frowning. “I’m not sure scintillating is the right word,” she admitted. “Only time will tell how this Selection will progress, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, “that’s for sure.” I felt my phone vibrate in my bag, and looked down at my watch, frowning when I realized what time it was. Seven hours. I had been in this library for seven whole hours. What was I doing? “Anyways, thank you for your help, but I actually have to go. I promised my sister I’d call her five minutes from now.” A lie. The buzzing of my phone in my bag was almost certainly Lydia calling me repeatedly for not calling her earlier, like I had said I would.

Reggie seemed not to notice, thankfully, and simply checked her own watch, nodding along. “Yes, of course. Thank you again. I’ll return it as soon as possible,” she finished, tapping my book for good measure.

“It was nice talking to you, Reggie,” I replied with a smile as I packed up my belongings, beginning to make my way down the hall. I wondered if she could see my bag vibrating. Maybe she’d just assume that my sister was impatient, and had called early. That would be ideal.

“Likewise,” I heard Reggie call from behind me as I made my way into the hallway.

I couldn’t help but smile as I made my way towards my room. Talking to Reggie had been nice, familiar, in a way that talking to the other girls had not. I’d have to seek her out again at some point, but right now, I had to hightail it back to my room, before Lydia screamed at me loud enough to burst my eardrums. I almost couldn’t wait to tell her that she had been wrong. Reggie was nice, and helpful, and I appreciated that.

#selectionoc

[izzy-b-hands]

I Prefer Your Love

A continuation to the Gat/Boss request I posed earlier today, because now we’re deep in the pain of Saints Row Three with Boss Ellis lol. Also, I’m just really having fun writing these two up, their relationship, everything. I really wanna go back and give them more Gat/Boss/Aisha time too (because I love Aisha dearly, and she really is the brains of the group, even if they won’t admit it every time lol.) 

This is written pre-acquisition of Matt Miller in SR3 (aka about where I am in my current playthrough lol) but I plan to feature him in other fics with Boss Ellis!

Major TW for suicidal ideation, suicidal attempts via gang violence, and definitely PTSD that, for my boss, is dangerously undiagnosed (though to be fair, I think we could safely say that’s a dx for all the Saints.) 

Also hey, wanna cry while reading this? Here’s the two songs I had most on repeat while writing this that by the end had me tearing up in how they relate to the fic and Ellis’ and Johnny’s relationship (also the first one is where I got the fic title from): https://open.spotify.com/track/0Snb87Z4Zdn6YFMicWA7gx?si=i_mPPaSlTJq_9LIUdsHw6A and https://open.spotify.com/track/0pY9xoiH9hNo166spIpQWt?si=HK5w7Y3YTNOuIFZv8RKxLw

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

His phone goes off mid-fire-fight, and he resists the urge to be too upset. When it rains it pours, and this pouring isn’t anything new. 

“Where the fuck are you?” 

“Gosh, the sound of gunfire might give you a hint,” Ellis replies with a deep sigh as he swings around to take out another Decker. “Why?”

“No! I can hear you’re fighting, but where exactly are you?” 

“By Nobody Loves Me, where are you?” he sasses back. “I’m busy.” 

“Oh my god. We’ve been terrified, no one could find you last night-” 

“Shaundi, can this wait?” he tries to sound sympathetic, but there’s none right now. “You guys didn’t even call me, or text. I checked my phone. It can’t have been that emergent.” 

The line goes dead, and he focuses back on the fight. There are more Deckers than he expected, and he’s starting to notice the lightheaded sensation of blood loss and bullet wounds now, but so what? 

Johnny would be proud of that, if he went down in a hail of bullets. 

Before he can take out the latest Decker, a kid who looks too young to be out without his parents, let alone in a gang, he’s up and in the air.

“Oleg, put me the fuck down. I’m ending this.” 

“They will end you my friend, if you stay. You can end things another day. For now, we need to get you to the hospital.” 

“I’m fine!” his struggling means nothing to Oleg, not even as the butts of his dual-wielded pistols hit the man’s massive fists. “Put me the fuck down, now! That’s a goddamn order!” 

But he’s in the back of a truck, still held gently by Oleg, who ignores his fussing, his spitting of literal blood, and it’s then that he starts to realize it’s rather hard not to choke on it. 

“Stop talking,” Oleg finally says softly, and that’s the last thing he hears.

**

The light is so bright, but he can see purple. Purple is good, if he could feel it, he’d know the texture, Johnny’s usual favorite jacket, the one he’d lend to Ellis whenever he got cold, the one he loved having him wear when they fucked, just the jacket and nothing else, and-

“Pierce?” 

“Well goddamn. Sound more disappointed, why don’t you,” Pierce scolds him. His head is in Pierce’s lap. Why is he laying in Pierce’s lap?

Sitting up, especially quickly, is a terrible choice as it turns out, and he vomits into the bucket near the couch as he flops back down. 

“Thankfully, I didn’t wear a nice suit today,” Pierce remarks wryly. “How you feelin’?” 

“Like shit. But I felt like that before getting shot.” 

“Yeah, but you got shot a lot. Like, enough that you shouldn’t be here. And you probably shouldn’t be here, in HQ right now, but we know you got your thing about hospitals, not wanting to wake up in ‘em, so we convinced the doctor to let you recover here. He’ll be coming by to check on you-” 

The tears come before he can stop them. “Why did you do this?” 

“The hell are you talking about?” Shaundi’s voice from behind the couch. “Do what? Save your ass?” 

“I was so close to him,” Ellis whimpers. “I could taste it, in between the blood and the gun powder. I was almost with him again.” 

They go silent except for a sharp intake of breath from Pierce. “Boss-” 

“I was almost with him again!” he’s screaming and it hurts his chest, his lungs, but nothing hurts more than his heart right now. “And you took me away from him! How fucking selfish of you all-” 

“Selfish?” Shaundi interrupts, with a shocked scoff. “Excuse me?” 

He stands, but it hurts so bad he could pass out, but he fights off the darkness threatening to encroach on the corners of his vision, but he can’t stop moving now. “You fucking heard me. You took me away from my husband!” 

“No one took you away from Johnny!” Shaundi’s voice is sharp in his ears, like a knife in his side. “Loren took Johnny away from us! You were just out there trying to get yourself killed, like you have a death wish or someth-” 

She interrupts herself with a gasp, a hand flies to her mouth. 

“Oh, don’t look so fucking surprised,” Ellis spits. “And I was this close to making it. I was going to see him again. Hold him again. Kiss him again, apologize for letting him die. And you fucks took that away from me.” 

He ignores the footsteps following him as he stumbles out the backdoor of the living room to the pool area, around the slippery flooring to the helipad. One of their smaller planes is still there, and there’s a haze from the narcotic pain pills they must have given him at the hospital, but it isn’t the first time he’s flown while high. 

But it might be the last, if he does this right. 

“Get him out of that!” and he’s never heard Kinzie be that loud so far. She could go far in the Saints, if she could yell that authoritatively more often. She’ll have to, maybe, once this is finally done. She’d be a good second hand to Shaundi, if Shaundi steps up and takes over like he hopes she will. 

In any case, it’s too late as he takes off, and pays sparing attention to the controls as he flies, at times only resting his knees on the controls, the plane bobbing and weaving up and down and entirely too close to buildings. 

It’s all quite funny, until a sharp clearing of the breath in the passenger seat. 

“The fuck are you doing?” 

Ellis shrugs, and reaches over for Johnny’s hand, but feels nothing. “I’m going to find you. I can do it.” 

Johnny shakes his head. “No, you can’t, and no you aren’t. I’m not even real right now, you know that. I know you do. You’re only seeing me because you want to, because you need help, and for some godforsaken reason, you only want it from me, and refuse to let anyone else in.” 

“Why would you say something so cruel,” he pouts as he nudges the controls at random, enjoying the turbulence. “I just want to be with you again. You wanted to be with Aisha, and you are now. I miss you both, so why can’t I come be with you?” 

“I could tell you it’s just because they need you,” Johnny replies softly as he takes off his sunglasses, and the tears come again as Ellis sees his eyes, the most gorgeous he’s ever been lucky enough to look into. “Or just because it isn’t your time yet. And those two things are true, by the way.” 

“Stop,” Ellis begs him, a whisper. 

“Go land on the island,” Johnny instructs.

Below them, the island where the plane Johnny had been on, had died on, had crashed. 

“I don’t want to land. I want to crash. I can be done, with all of this,” he weeps. “Don’t you want to see me again? Don’t you miss me?” 

There are tears in Johnny’s eyes now too. “Of course I do. I love you. But this isn’t the way, I promise. I know you can’t understand it right now, but you will see me again, just not the way you’re thinking or how you’d expect. Don’t do this.” 

He lands, admittedly difficult on the small and bumpy island, but he manages. As soon as they’re safely stopped, he clambers into the passenger seat, into what should be Johnny’s lap, he can see it, but he can’t feel it as he sits there, and the lack of sensation is worse than being shot with any bullet. 

He sobs, and wishes for Johnny’s arms around him, even as he hears the soft and sweet words in Johnny’s voice, urging him to just listen, for once. “Get on the boat when they get here. Take a break, for a few weeks. Let them handle shit. Come back to me, to yourself. I know how shit gets for you, how bad it gets in your head, how hard this is, but it isn’t worth it. I need you to stay here with them. We’ll be together again, I promise.” 

It’s nearly dark by the time the rest of the Saints arrive, and he lets Shaundi, her make-up running down her face, breath hitching as she cries, help him out of the plane. Pierce, sniffling, is the one who keeps him upright when he slips on the edge of the boat, and it’s Kinzie who helps him settle on the backseat of it. 

“Oleg would have sank it,” she tries to giggle, but her eyes are red and tired looking, and it falls flat as he leans against her. “Otherwise he’d be here. But he’s back at HQ, waiting to help get you into your room.” 

“That sounds nice,” and he means it to sound that way genuinely, but he can hear how flat his voice is. Nothing he does can make it sound better, and he isn’t sure it matters anyway. 

He doesn’t hear Johnny again until he’s back at home, after being gently washed by Oleg of all people, who tells him a tale of how he used to work as a medic for some friends of his who got in bad situations of varying sorts, and they always requested him for sponge baths while horribly injured. “Apparently, my hands are very gentle. It is a nice thing to hear, don’t you think?” 

He can’t respond, and doesn’t try to until he’s alone, and Johnny is back too. 

“You can’t do this again.” 

“Then what do I do?” 

“You keep fighting. You keep working. You stop pretending that you’re just magically okay, and not hurting. You let them in. You let them help. And by the time you get back to me, we’ll both be doing better.” 

He can’t stop the tears again, even though it hurts his eyes to cry again, so sore and dry from the weeping he’s already done for the day. “I’m not going to hear from you again after this, am I?” 

He swears, he’s certain, he can feel Johnny’s lips on his for just a second. “No. But you will get me back. Did you really think I’d leave you alone forever? Didn’t we both say we wouldn’t do that to each other?” 

He nods, and then Johnny is gone, and the bedroom is entirely too big and quiet. 

And it’ll be like that for a long time, he knows that now. But a person can get used to anything, so long as it’s temporary. 

And he can do it, for Johnny. 

Johnny would be proud of that, of him keeping on, even when everything inside of him is screaming at him to stop.

Johnny would be proud, and he’ll live to see him be proud, if it’s the last thing he does. 

#text post #LeeH writes #Gat/Boss #Saints Row fic

[fannishcodex]

Putting these guys in a separate post (x): an even more literal role swap--and gender swap and species/race swap--with Princess Toffee of the Royal Butterfly Family and Star the Immortal Monster of Septarsis:

Man, I ultimately did not care for the S3 “The Battle for Mewni” TV movie, but brainstorming headcanons for this AU so far has used stuff from that TV movie (while admittedly criticizing said TV movie in a more meta way during the course of said brainstorming). It’s also pulled from some other AU ideas I’ve had but haven’t shared before (maybe I’ll pinpoint the origins of that some other time). Also, this ended up getting long. Also, I now feel bad for mewman Princess Toffee in my AU. I apparently can’t let Toffee be happy ever in my AUs. Also, feeling bad for Septarian Star in the AU too--but then again, I always feel bad for the monsters in SVTFOE.

@komododragonhustler​ (who first inspired me with her mewman Princess Toffee AU to just share my stray AU thought of more literally swapping Toffee and Star so that Toffee was the mewman princess and Star the monster)

@colorwizard​

@detectiveashcroft​

@lemonadesoda​ (who helped me brainstorm a lot of this)

It was actually really interesting to try to imagine their original personalities still existing in some way under these different circumstances. (Though granted, my headcanons on and preferences for Toffee and Star and SVTFOE still influence this.)

Anyway:

Princess Toffee:

-Her birth was a scandal. Her father isn’t River. Her father is a low-ranking castle guard whom an unmarried Moon had one night of passion with.

-Moon’s love life was even more complicated; and it was only later that she and River fell in love, got together, and married, when Princess Toffee was four years old. River is Toffee’s step father/adoptive father.

-Princess Toffee inherited her dark hair, dark skin, and yellow eyes from her commoner father. (Playing fast and loose with the sci fi of an alien species in a fantasy world: the yellow eyes were just a mutation of mewman genetics that Princess Toffee inherited from her father.) Features underlying that coloring are mostly inherited from Moon, i.e. face shape, eye shape, etc. 

-The queen having an illegitimate child with essentially a mewman commoner was bad enough. Any marriage with the father was out of the question. 

-There has never been an attempt made to hide the basic truth of her heritage from Princess Toffee. She’s known her father was a commoner and that she is Moon’s illegitimate daughter her whole life. 

-Princess Toffee never met her biological father. She’s been told he fell ill and passed away while Moon was pregnant with her. Deep down, Toffee is extremely paranoid about this explanation.

-Princess Toffee knows very little about her biological father, Moon refuses to talk about him, no one talks about him. All she knows is that he’s where she gets the color of her hair, skin, and eyes from; that he was a castle guard; that he wasn’t of royal or noble birth, just a commoner, little more than a peasant. 

-Queen Moon did face pressure to finally wed someone fitting her rank and produce a legitimate heir when Princess Toffee was born. The royal court essentially only willing to hold on to Princess Toffee temporarily until a more legitimate heir was born, and then advise the queen to quietly send her firstborn away to some noble’s estate, or somewhere else, anywhere else, and remove her from the line of succession.

-Moon does not want to send her firstborn away, she wants to keep her close. But she is more willing to accept removing her as successor to the throne.

-While Princess Toffee wasn’t even a year old, a magically maimed but still actively fighting General Star dramatically put an end to such thoughts and that specific pressure from the court. In the last fight he had with Moon before she finally subdued him, and then had him imprisoned and banished, Star the Immortal Monster caused her grievous injury in another attempt to kill her, and came very close to succeeding. Queen Moon survived, largely due to the efforts of the royal medical staff. But though they saved her life, they found they could not repair all of the physical damage General Star had left--his blade and mace had cut deeply enough to permanently make the queen unable to have any more biological children. This was not even something the correct use of magic could fix, since General Star had secured enchanted weaponry in his latest assassination attempt, weaponry that at least proved effective enough to make Moon unable to give birth again, even if it had failed in the Septarian monster’s one goal: slay Moon.

-That left Princess Toffee as the only biological heir Moon would ever have. Princess Toffee became the only biological heir who could directly continue the Royal Butterfly line. (Toffee is aware of this too, and it gnaws at her.)

-Princess Toffee faces more direct pressure to perform well given her low-born father, her status as the queen’s illegitimate daughter, and place as the only biological heir the queen will ever have.

-Moon has no idea why, it struck her as another part of Eclipsa’s seemingly eccentric and candy-fixated nature--but the old queen added another element to their contract, one that was clearly going to happen. Eclipsa made Moon promise that even when she just used the spell she was about to share with her, Moon was bound to name her firstborn “Toffee.” Moon found that a foolish name to give anyone, let alone her own future child. But Eclipsa wouldn’t budge on this, and at least tied what seemed like a small and innocuous demand to an inevitability, rather than tying the larger demand (her freedom) to that inevitability. So, Moon agreed, and years later, after she had used Eclipsa’s spell against General Star, Moon had the unsettling sensation of her mouth moving against her conscious will to name her firstborn according to Eclipsa’s wishes.

-Princess Toffee initially tries to do well and obey under the heightened societal pressure. As a young child, she’s sensitive and thoughtful, and wants her family to love her, and make them proud. She doesn’t want to be disliked, or belittled. She thinks that if she does well, she’ll earn less dislike, and earn more love and kindness.

-Queen Moon and King River are often busy, leaving Princess Toffee in the care of servants and guards. When she was little, Toffee often wanted more attention from them.

-Princess Toffee’s first question about Mewnipendance Day was where mewmans came from before they lived here, because the picture book says they came to this land, they weren’t living here already. No one can give her a satisfactorily clear answer. They soon basically tell her to be quiet and stop asking so many questions. Princess Toffee looks at the picturebook more closely, and has more questions that no one can really answer. Her great curiosity is still ultimately treated with disdain and irritation. 

-Princess Toffee does end up resenting Moon, and this resentment builds. Toffee has a very strained relationship with Moon, something that just deteriorates as time goes on. Toffee starts wanting to just be a better queen than her mother out of spite; and to prove wrong those expecting her to fail, shut up those who scorn her because of the circumstances of her birth, justify her accidental existence. Wanting to be the better queen, Toffee more actively looks for where Moon is lacking in areas of her reign, so she can see where she can improve when it’s her turn. To her growing cynicism, Toffee finds a lot of flaws. Such thoughts expand to thinking the whole system, her whole society, is terribly flawed. Her desire to improve things becomes more complicated, and develops into a true desire to help.

-The negative treatment Princess Toffee faces because of her illegitimacy and lowborn heritage does help make her more open to others her people treat badly, and far worse than her.

-Princess Toffee tries not to think that her turn to rule--according to what she’s heard--hinges upon her mother’s death. Toffee’s relationship with her mother really deteriorates, but not to the point that Toffee wishes her dead, and the thought of losing her still frightens her on some primal level. Though she heard this happens less often in the line of Butterfly succession, Toffee hopes for this option--that Moon will retire when she grows too old, and Toffee can take over then.

-When Princess Toffee stopped believing her literal grandmother--Moon’s mother--was sent to a home for grandmothers, she asked to know a little bit more about her, and what happened to her. Moon refused even to talk about her, and Toffee gave up, feeling frustrated, but also thinking Moon probably felt the sting of her own mother’s death after all this time, enough that it still made it hard to even talk about her.

-Princess Toffee never learned of General Star’s existence.

-As Princess Toffee’s resentment for and disappointment in Moon grows, so does her belief that Moon is just as disappointed in her. She believes her mother is ashamed to have her for a daughter and heir.

-Princess Toffee has what she ultimately considers an irrational and humiliating fear of warnicorns. It’s just, when she was very little, they seemed terribly big and their long horns terribly sharp and just overall terribly mean-looking; she also thought the picture books made them look scary too. Just, for some reason despite what grown-up mewmans tried to tell her with their own words or their books and such, the warnicorns terrified the young princess more than any stories of monsters or depictions of them--perhaps because she saw warnicorns first, up-close and personal, and could literally understand how their great size dwarfed her, how sharp their horns seemed, and how mean they looked in the flesh. It’s a fear that lingers, and makes the warnicorn stampede spell difficult to do later. Toffee can barely ride a warnicorn, and she feels it’s just another thing for her mother to be disappointed over.

-Princess Toffee is actually more fond of her stepfather/adoptive father River. He doesn’t understand her, but he’s a little more supportive, and that’s appreciated. But even he ends up disappointing her when she realizes how incompetent he can be, and even unthinkingly and ignorantly cruel to others; and she grows to dislike his monster hunts. Still, he’s a bit more supportive, and Toffee continues to appreciate that on some level.

-Princess Toffee can’t escape the disdain the majority of her environment--the royal court, noble family on both sides, even much of visiting royalty from other kingdoms--has for her illegitimate status and lowborn heritage. She ends up reciprocating their disdain. She does not really get along with her cousins, or any of her extended family. For a long time, Princess Toffee grows up pretty lonely.

-Princess Toffee’s bookworm nature, struggle with her shy streak, and then ultimately her different way of thinking--it all doesn’t help attract any friends or companionship either, she comes off as very strange to most mewmans, and then there’s still the scandal and disgrace of her birth that they won’t forget.

-Princess Toffee bonds with a companion animal at least. She cares for and rides a runty winged manticore mount that had been born in the royal stables, and would have otherwise been disregarded if not for her attention. Toffee cares about this animal a lot, and calls him “Flow.”

-Princess Toffee doesn’t make friends with Princess Ponyhead, they have no relationship to speak of. They are just acquaintances made during royal functions.

-Princess Toffee never dates or befriends Prince Tom, though the royal court encourages their relationship. After she is made to dance with him at a ball, Tom develops an infatuation for her that she does not understand. Princess Toffee regularly rejects his request for a first date, and grows increasingly irritated with him for not listening to her clear refusal, even as her way of stating it has grown less polite and more blunt every time she has to repeat herself.

-Princess Toffee hasn’t developed any signs of romantic interest in anyone. Sometimes she wonders if something’s wrong with her. Sometimes she wonders if she can get away with being a better queen without getting married or producing a  biological heir. Sometimes she wonders if she could go down as the best queen by being the last one, and abolishing the entire system and establishing a better one to replace it. 

-Princess Toffee eventually makes friends with the “Alternative Monsters”, who seem surprisingly friendly, friendlier than most mewmans she’s encountered. It adds to the young heir’s growing disillusionment with her mewman kingdom and how they think of and treat monsters. Toffee sneaks out to spend time with them, also bringing them food and clothes too. For anyone interested and willing, she helps teach them writing and reading, either the whole thing or just a little more to refine what they know.  

-Princess Toffee’s Secrets Closet includes a makeshift lab for mechanical and technological invention. The technology she’s seen scattered around Mewni, and more of in the wider multiverse--well, she’d like to see it grow on Mewni. She thinks it could be very useful and helpful, and another way for her to prove she can be a better queen. Also, she’s just interested in the subject matter. 

-Princess Toffee tries to help her kingdom run better, more efficiently. She tries methods of policy and mechanical invention. But when she tries to turn her ideas into something, they fail in a couple of ways. Either no one from the court listens to her. Or she goes ahead and at the first sign of a small or big error, or when her efforts aren’t met with immediate success, the royal court shuts her attempt down. Queen Moon faintly praises Princess Toffee for her initiative and desire to engage with how the kingdom functions--but then she doesn’t really back her up, give any real support, or truly take her seriously, underestimating her daughter and thinking she’s too naive, too impatient and impulsive, too immature, and simply not ready. This all deeply frustrates Toffee, and further damages the relationship she has with her mother.    

-When Princess Toffee makes any effort to provide relief to monsters, no matter how she tries to phrase it--it’s only charity, it’s only to further our own reputation (she thinks to try any lie to make this happen)--the resistance she meets from the Butterfly kingdom is even greater and rather more vitriolic.

-Princess Toffee tries to use royal lessons on restraint, composure, biding one’s time, building up support, and even deception, etc., to bite her tongue on what she really thinks about mewmans and monsters until she’s in a better position to make real change, but the young heir finds this hard to practice. However, she is learning. 

-Princess Toffee largely keeps all of her hair behind a cloth headband because she feels more comfortable that way. She has briefly considered a haircut, but then settles with her current hair length--not too long, not too short, and just combining it with her usual cloth headband.

-Queen Moon at least thinks Princess Toffee is ready to be personally trained in martial combat with her. Learning the sword and other weapons and fighting styles from her mother is one of the few things Princess Toffee still enjoys about their relationship. Toffee finds that Moon feels more bearable when she’s teaching her how to act in battle and sparring with her, things feel...nicer and easier between them. Princess Toffee looks forward to meeting Queen Moon in the training hall most of the time. She considers it one of the few bright spots left about her mother.

-Outside of the training hall, things go back to normal: strained, bad. As Princess Toffee grows older, she and Queen Moon keep getting into more heated arguments.

-Princess Toffee initially does put more conscious effort in trying to keep her distance from the servants and lower classes in an attempt to make up for her lowborn heritage, and because Moon directly asked her to, and also heard the same from others of the royal court. That attempt gradually breaks down, but not easily, she had grown used to it; in any case, she manages to make Arts & Crafts friends later--Ruberiot the Songstrel, Foolduke, and the genius Mime. They’re generally more respectful of her being royalty and just consider that; they actually are interested that she has partial lowborn heritage closer to their own lower rank; and grow fond of the princess herself. Princess Toffee likes Ruberiot’s music, and Ruberiot actually grows more supportive of her different thinking and efforts/desire to change the Butterfly Kingdom. Foolduke appreciates it whenever Princess Toffee cracks a dry/deadpan/sarcastic joke, and tries to teach the princess about the art of comedy and using it for social commentary. Mime is just generally almost as kind as her artistic genius, and is open to befriending the young heir. 

-Getting to know the Butterfly princess longer and better, Ruberiot runs into a dilemma. He wants to perform a better Song Day, especially for someone he considers a friend, and believes will be a great queen, and would like to use music to gain support for her and spread her ideas farther. But he realizes that Princess Toffee still has a shy streak and still would like to have her privacy. Even what Ruberiot considers her uncharacteristic resistance to making Song Day work for an objective tells him she’s really anxious about the whole thing and would rather not have it happen.    

-Princess Toffee struggles to balance her public persona--and using that to enact public change--with her desire for privacy.

-Princess Toffee straight up finds common ground with Ariel, princess of another Disney story--she becomes fascinated with and feels closer to a people her royal parent(s) harbor disdain for, becomes entranced by remnants of what they build. Part of this involves Princess Toffee stumbling upon the ancient monster temple, and exploring it, and finding refuge there. Her method of transport to there is Flow, the runty winged manticore mount from the royal stables that she cares for.  

-Princess Toffee thinks a lot, and some of her thoughts spiral into something like this: I actually feel miserable Why do I feel so miserable, there are others worse off than me, I’ve been born into a family and people that profit off the misery of others, I don’t have the right to feel unhappy--I should do more, I need to take action, not be this emotional, but...what? how? I don’t -- This temple, what they built is amazing--but am I only interested in it as a novelty, am I reducing their culture to a novelty for my own amusement?--I should share this with actual monsters--how many monsters could this ruin still house--what if it was restored, repaired?--but I don’t know how to even approach them about this, how to bring this up--and I still want this to myself, I can come here and just be--but it’s not mine, it can’t be mine, I can’t claim something my ancestors destroyed and left to rot, that doesn’t begin to help anything at all, I’m as bad as them, I always will be--this should be a safe harbor for monsters, not me--but -- am I still rebelling out of spite, just to be contrary with my mother and everyone, do I really truly care enough about the people my kingdom hurt?--am I just trying to make myself feel better doing this?--am I just using this to prove myself the better queen?--but I don’t want to be in charge forever, or--that is--monsters should make their own choices, they should be actually free, so much of this is because they’re not, they’re not free, I should at least help them get to that point, but to stay as a queen above wouldn’t work with that, it couldn’t--I can’t just be a queen that continues to rule them and try to avoid cruelty or apathy while everyone else pretty much went crazy with that--I can’t keep ruling them, they should get to rule themselves--for corn’s sake, they had their own royalty before, Avarius for instance, and probably more real than that pushover figurehead puppet king my mother deals with--and other forms of rule, they may have had that too -- I wish I could run away from all of this--and I shouldn’t, I should make things better--but sometimes I really don’t want this, all these problems Mother left behind and doesn’t care about, all the problems my ancestors left behind, why do I have to deal with this, why couldn’t Mother or Grandmother have dealt with this, why couldn’t they see, why couldn’t they care--

-When Princess Toffee is 13 years old, Queen Moon straight up ends up pulling a King Triton, and this severely damages her relationship with Toffee further. Moon was already growing aggravated by what she considered her only daughter’s increasingly poor attitude, vitriolic and unbecoming dissent, and her skipping classes with tutors. When the queen realizes Princess Toffee has been running off to some ancient monster temple and wasting time there, and is actually fascinated by relics of some sacrilegious barbarian cult--well, she snaps. She can’t have her only daughter feeling so attached to monsters, and possibly prioritize them over mewmans, the Butterfly kingdom. The queen still remembers the violence General Star continued against her until Moon finally imprisoned and banished him. The queen still remembers the news that General Star had killed her mother. The queen still has the prejudices against monsters she was raised with and was able to swallow and accept. Moon first sends Toffee’s manticore Flow away through a portal via dimensional scissors, then addresses her daughter alone. She and Toffee get into one of their worse arguments yet. Toffee actually starts feeling a little scared of Moon’s rage, she’s never seen her this angry before. Queen Moon bodily drags Princess Toffee out of the temple, and this action further disturbs the young heir. Then the queen raises her wand toward the temple, and Princess Toffee is hit with terrible realization, and immediately begs her mother to stop. But Queen Moon destroys the ancient monster temple with the wand, despite Princess Toffee’s increasingly desperate and frantic pleas for her to stop. When it’s over, Queen Moon is only shaken out of her rage when she sees her normally vocally rebellious daughter crumple down sobbing. Queen Moon tries to make her come home, but Princess Toffee won’t move, and again Queen Moon bodily drags her away, through another portal cut by dimensional scissors, and leaves her alone crying in her room back at Butterfly castle.

(-Moon feels some guilt that it came to this, but she can’t bring herself to think she did anything but what she had to do. She would not apologize for this, she doesn’t think she did anything wrong.)

-Princess Toffee refuses to speak to Queen Moon for a month after that. When she’s finally speaking to her again, her words are initially just even more detached from her mother.

-Princess Toffee hates and blames Moon for destroying what had remained of the ancient monster temple. But she also hates and blames herself for that destruction of monster culture, feeling it was her fault too.

-Moon tells no one of the ancient monster temple, not wanting anyone to know that Princess Toffee had been so fascinated by that place.

-Princess Toffee starts marauding for monsters in a disguise, sneaking around at night and stealing food and other supplies for them. She manages to keep this a secret from everyone.

-Princess Toffee manages to steal Hekapoo’s scissors. Hekapoo doesn’t seem to notice, especially since Toffee doesn’t go scissor crazy.

-Princess Toffee avoids combat training with her mother for months afterward, and Moon makes no serious attempt to make her go. Princess Toffee trains in combat by herself, but doesn’t trust herself in a physical spar with Moon...and deep down, she doesn’t really trust Moon either, though this is something she can’t articulate, isn’t that consciously aware of. Deep down, Princess Toffee now actually fears that her mother would be driven to turn the wand’s violence against her, if she angered her enough--but again, this is a thought so deep in her subconscious, she can’t recognize it yet. (Moon has no idea of this. Moon can understand Toffee’s negative reaction to her destroying something she cared about. It does not occur to her that Toffee could--on some level--now think she would ever hurt her.)

-Queen Moon’s show of furious force also leaves Princess Toffee with a certain fear of the wand itself. When she inherits it on her 14th birthday, her hand is hesitant and trembles slightly before taking it. She only does one small--even pitiful--show of magic with it because that’s customary, at least one demonstration is Butterfly tradition. After that, Princess Toffee shuts the wand in her Secrets Closet and doesn’t use it the rest of the day.

-So Princess Toffee is not sent to Earth right on the day of her 14th birthday. She’s sent there later.

-Queen Moon actually let Princess Toffee sit at the adults’ table and allowed her to participate in Game of Flags for the first time when she was 14. Moon had thought she was ready. She comes to regret this later, when the family game grew too intense and Princess Toffee lost a finger in the fighting.     

-After her first Game of Flags, Princess Toffee is sent to Earth.

-Princess Toffee is less than impressed with her guide, Marco. His insistence that he’s some kind of bad boy while showing the opposite just exasperates Toffee and makes her thinks he’s just rather...lame. Also she’s still not entirely sure what he means by a “bad boy,” maybe that’s the Earth way of describing someone as reckless and rebellious, based on what he’s trying to say he is anyway.

-Princess Toffee catches sight of Jackie riding away on her skateboard, and is entranced--she has no idea what the girl is doing, what is that contraption she’s using to move, it has wheels like a carriage, but it’s decidedly not a carriage, etc. Deeply curious, Princess Toffee just silently follows Jackie, walking out on Marco while he’s still ranting and no longer paying her any attention.

-Princess Toffee learns about Earth skateboards from Jackie, and then they talk about history books. The two become friends. Princess Toffee generally admires Jackie’s calm and enjoys talking about books with her, and learning Earth’s history from her.

-Princess Toffee and Marco never really warm to each other. Marco thinks she’s a grump, a jerk, stuck-up princess, boring, etc. Princess Toffee thinks Marco is irritating, worries too much about stupid things, and is just...lame. They never really become friends, just reluctant house mates. Toffee likes Marco’s parents fine, they’re remarkably nice. She later realizes that though they love Marco, they also seem as absent as her own parents, and maybe this partly explains Marco’s annoying insecurities. But Princess Toffee still thinks Marco is lame.  

-Princess Toffee first meets Ludo and his small army when they try to steal the wand just as she’s leaving the school library. She had never met them back on Mewni.

-Princess Toffee didn’t care for Marco’s attempt to protect her against Ludo’s small army. She could take care of herself, she wanted to try to talk her way out of the situation first, she didn’t want to immediately respond with a punch to the face like Marco freakin’ did--she snaps at him to stay out of mewni affairs, and tries to speak with Ludo and his soldiers like she first wanted.

-Ludo doesn’t back down, and Princess Toffee grows to find him really irritating, from his general nature to his constant mistreatment of his soldiers. But she tries to drive back Ludo and his soldiers without great force. The young heir is at a loss on how to resolve this with words alone.

-Princess Toffee has considered multiple times to use the first spell her mother taught her to destroy the wand. But even she’s not ready to do that against her kingdom and her family and their system yet (among other reasons--like, she’s still not entirely sure if there are any side-effects that could prove really disastrous, since Moon’s explanation hadn’t been that clear, irritatingly enough).    

-Princess Toffee doesn’t care for Marco’s crush on Jackie either. Toffee’s even less impressed the one time Marco gets desperate enough to try being nicer to her in an obvious attempt to get closer to Jackie. Her housemate apologizes for it afterward, but Princess Toffee still doesn’t like him any better.

-Princess Toffee is at least relieved that the next time Tom comes to again ask her out on a first date, something happens between him and Marco, and it seems to end his infatuation with her, and even turn his attention to spending time with Marco instead. The young heir doesn’t really care what happened between those two, as long as Tom is out of her hair. 

-Princess Toffee sometimes bonds a little with Janna in teasing Marco. But the young heir doesn’t care for Janna's great interest in her family’s ancient spell book or the wand.

-Princess Toffee likes using dimensional scissors to explore and learn about the multiverse, different dimensions, different worlds. She likes going to Quest Buy, and the dimension of Wonders and Amazement. She also uses them to sneak back to Mewni to visit the Alternative Monsters, Art & Crafts Friends, and Flow the Runt Manticore Mount.

-Since Princess Toffee wouldn’t celebrate Mewnipendance Day on Earth, she was made to do her usual public appearance alongside her family for Butterfly Castle’s annual celebration of the holiday. And as usual, Princess Toffee put on her emotionless mask and hated every minute of it.  

-Princess Toffee mostly refers to Glossayrck as “old man.”

-Mewberty happened for Princess Toffee while on a trip to Quest Buy. Other than walking past Princess Ponyhead rushing about through the aisles on what she assumed to be some important errand, it felt like a normal day there. Toffee was just browsing, considering maybe buying a magazine there, when a large Septarian monster stumbled out of a jagged dimensionally sliced portal in the aisle next to her. He picked himself up, lowered his dimensional chainsaw, checked and banged on a scanner device, then turned to her and asked if she’d seen a Princess Ponyhead around. Princess Toffee had stared--and immediately felt some form of romantic attraction for someone else. She was smitten. She fell hard. Her first crush. Every cliche she could imagine. Princess Toffee stammered out that she thought she had seen Princess Ponyhead a couple aisles back, and she pointed in the direction she meant. Watching the stranger go, Toffee had blushed, felt her stomach squirm weirdly--then she felt extra hearts grow on her face and the rest of her body, and long story even shorter, Toffee later woke up to find herself crawling out of a pile of gray heart flakes, Quest Buy a mess, and a very confused Septarian monster stranger untangling himself from gray heart-marked vine-webbing. Horrified and humiliated, Princess Toffee had fled back to Earth, without getting the name of her crush. But later when she thought of him again, it brought a smile to her face. Princess Toffee hadn’t realized having a little crush on someone could feel so nice.

-Although Princess Toffee was at first angry over being sent to Earth, she grows to really enjoy her time on the alien planet. No one really pressures her or treats her negatively like the illegitimate, lowborn princess and sole heir to a kingdom she is. She’s fascinated by all the technology on Earth. She likes that there’s a system of public libraries open to everyone. She’s interested in learning the history and current status of their different ruling governments, from familiar monarchy to the more new democracy. She wants to see what she can use from Earth to improve her home planet. Earth is really the escape from Mewni she’s been wanting. She thinks if she could, she would choose to live here.

-When Ludo shows up with a new soldier, the Septarian monster Star, Princess Toffee finds him eccentric and very friendly, charming, even funny. She thinks he’s harmless.

-Princess Toffee learns that Star being eccentric and friendly doesn’t mean he can’t be dangerous, when she witnesses him grab Ludo--interrupting his typical rant viciously blaming his soldiers for another botched attempt to steal the wand--and throw the smaller monster into the void with dimensional scissors. Toffee believed Star was fed up with Ludo’s abusive behavior to his soldiers, since she herself had seen Ludo do it enough that it wasn’t unbelievable someone finally rebelled against him. She thought she could understand why the Septarian did it. But Princess Toffee was still kind of unnerved by how casually and easily Star tossed Ludo away into the void, with seemingly no hesitation or regret.

-Eventually Princess Toffee runs across Ludo in the wilderness of Mewni, and gradually the two form a strange friendship.

General Star, the Immortal Monster of Septarsis:

-The Monster King was even more thrown by General Star going rogue, because he had always found him so friendly and pleasant. Very talkative, always willing to engage with his troops. All right, given how talkative and outgoing he was, General Star had also been the most vocal about how mewmans treated monsters and never really knew his place or when to keep quiet, but the Monster King had thought...well, the Monster King realized too late that maybe he should have listened to General Star’s grievances more, instead of dismissing them.

-Buff Frog/Yvgeny served under General Star, and he along with Rasticore were General Star’s most relied upon soldiers. Also, his friends.

-Star whole-heartedly considered Rasticore his bestie. And though Rasticore would never use the same term, he reciprocated the feeling, and would be willing to call the general his best friend.

-Getting past first appearances, Rasticore can actually be a goof off, willing to be humorous, be more casual, down to earth, prone to trying to cheer up his comrades when they felt down. (Also a bit clumsy still, despite training and battle experience--though still not as clumsy as he had been before all of that.) But when next to his general, Rasticore often looks normal and serious.  

-General Star with a reputation for being extremely eccentric. Also friendly. He looks out for his comrades.

-General Star also has a reputation for being an extremely fierce soldier in battle.

-General Star’s natural impulsiveness and rash behavior has grown tempered with more strategic thinking and observation skills as he’s worked his way up to general. He’s not a perfect leader, and his natural rashness can still get the better of him. But he actually is a fairly good leader, both in how he works and treats those under his leadership. 

-One of Star’s many hobbies seems to be casual matchmaking, he seems to take pleasure in encouraging and lightly teasing any romantic entanglements that crop up in his army. Despite this, no one in the army has ever witnessed any hint of the general himself harboring romantic feelings toward anyone. 

-Yvgeny/Buff Frog is older than Star, and deep down, does regard the Septarian monster as if he were his own son. Star does reciprocate, seeing Yvgeny/Buff Frog as not just an older adviser, but also a parental figure.

-While General Star is largely cheerful, he is also normally visibly and vocally angry about Mewnipendance Day and what mewmans have done to his people, and continue to do. 

-At times Star’s general friendliness can make others--like the Monster King--fail to appreciate the sincerity and depths of his hatred and aggression toward the mewman kingdom.

-General Star is genuinely friendly, kind, open, optimistic, etc. He’s just also 1000% ready to fight the mewman kingdom, which he hates for how they have hurt his people, and wants to stop them.

-More on General Star’s optimism: He believes that with monsters standing together, they can defeat their mewman oppressors and free themselves. He believes in personally maintaining joy, compassion, friendliness, etc. in his life. Feeling anger, despair, and darker emotions are fine, that’s part of feeling in general, it’s all right to feel hurt--but General Star does not want to become trapped in that, he doesn’t want to give up his appreciation and zest for life and others. Things suck for monsters, but General Star searches for the good things, and becomes even more protective of that because of how much life can absolutely suck for monsters. He’ll find and work to keep what joy he can get, and share that with others.

-If General Star had to pick a favorite weapon, he would select the mace.

-When the newly crowned Queen Moon came to confront him, Star never let Moon speak her mind. He immediately attacked her, seizing on the chance to fully end the direct Royal Butterfly line. 

-Star had left his tent when he heard his troops laugh, brightly asked them what was going on, and mildly reminded them to keep him in the loop, given he was their leader. When he spotted Moon, he struck while she spoke, catching her off guard and fully intending to kill her. He didn’t even bother with the weapons he kept on his person, his favorite mace and dagger.

-More on General Star’s decision to kill Moon as quickly as possible when given the chance: 1) Star was fresh from the death of the mewman queen, the new one had just shown up in front of him not long after, he could end the direct Butterfly line right there. It would be critically key and appropriate for defeating the kingdom that oppressed his people and seeking revenge/justice, if he could end that line, that source of direct hereditary leadership among the enemy. 2) General Star believed the full context of the mewman-monster conflict had to be considered; the mewmans had invaded his people’s homeland, they had massacred so many of his people and had the gall to celebrate that, they continued to oppress them and make no effort to alleviate his people’s suffering or try to repair the damage they had caused--the situation was enough that the mewman ruling kingdom and their leaders were fair game as targets marked even for death, there was nothing to require that he spare them, he owed them nothing. 3) General Star felt he could read enough in his brief time with Moon directly, by what little of her nature and actions he could see, that she would be closed off like the majority of mewmans and not open to his people’s suffering or how her kingdom was directly responsible for that. He didn’t see her willing at all to look beyond her own mother’s death or the exclusive well-being of her kingdom at the larger picture that couldn’t be ignored, the fact that the status quo mewmans enjoyed had driven Star and his rebels to violent resistance when most other options had been exhausted. The “peace treaty” was a joke, nothing that would truly help monsters or make mewmans give up what they had taken from them. The thought of a useless treaty with invaders galled Star. The thought of them never fully acknowledging the extent of the wrong they did to his people galled him. And so, General Star tried to kill Moon.

-Chauncey had moved to defend his princess, but Star had grabbed the animal with his tail, while the rest of him quickly beat a surprised Moon down with a few hard and fast strikes.

-Moon had dropped her wand, and General Star quickly grabbed it in his claws.

-His troops had watched on with delight, and a heady rush of triumph and awe had pierced through the battlerage that had descended upon Star, he’d taken the royal wand pretty easily--though wait, there were...rumors, about what the wand could do to monsters that held it...but those were just--

-Then the wand acted strange, treacherous--it shifted into a shape that stared at him, painful veins ran up from where he held it to the rest of his arm, Star knew the wand spoke to him, tried to order him around, and wouldn’t let him open his claws to drop it. When he tried to fight back, the wand sometimes shifted into a shape that fittingly had a star, and wings--he never got a good look at it, as it swiftly switched back to the eye shape that spoke to his mind and stared at him. General Star, struggling madly and thoughts going wild, tried to claw at the hand trapped around the wand with his free hand--then he pulled it close and tried to bite at it--

-Buff Frog came from behind and struck, and that external help was enough to make General Star let go of the wand and stumble back into his adviser's arms, weakened by the fight with the wand.

-(*The ending of “Lobster Claws” will stick in my mind forever. That wand looked alive and like it wanted to possess its bearer for a moment. Still think the wand is hiding something sentient and malevolent, and it built up some kind of level of anti-monster defenses after being used against them for so long by mewmans.)

-Moon took her chance, after watching in shock, and after General Star had dropped Chauncey--her attacker was sufficiently distracted--Moon took up the wand, and shaken by how harshly and quickly General Star had taken her down, Moon fires Eclipsa’s spell without thinking to choose a specific target on his body to aim for, forgetting even the possibility of avoiding Eclipsa’s freedom while getting what she wanted. Or to even think to aim only at the Septarian, and not Buff Frog who hovered worriedly over him.

-Though out of it, General Star at least notices Moon’s attack, and immediately shoves Buff Frog out of the way, but as for himself--

-Rasticore moves forward and grabs his general’s arm, tries to yank him out of the way. Rasticore partially succeeds, enough that Moon’s spell only strikes General Star’s eye and the area of flesh around it, rather than a direct hit to his head.

-(A lot of the above is happening very fast, faster than the amount of words used to describe it.)

-Star’s eye doesn’t regenerate as expected, and while his army initially grows confused and disturbed, and Moon begins to feel some victory and lower her guard, Star takes maybe a few seconds to basically acknowledge, “well, that’s a thing,” look at Moon and notice the dark marks on her arms, and then just immediately attacks her again, pulling out his dagger. Star slices the hand holding her wand off, right about at the border where dark marks meet bare skin, thinking he still needs to separate her from the wand--especially now--and trying to figure out what is up with those marks...

-Their general’s continued battlerage and determination to fight lights a spark among his troops, and they all join him in combat. If they could strike hard and fast like the general, if they could support him, if they stuck together, they may have a chance still. They were all angry at the mewmans oppressing them, they had a right to be angry over what the mewmans had done; they had come this far, they had killed a queen, they could not back down now. 

-Moon saved from being mobbed by General Star and his army when the Magic High Commission and other mewman forces finally come to back her up.

-General Star has ignited a huge fight outside of Butterfly castle between his rebel monster army and the ruling mewman kingdom.

-General Star keeps a death grip on Moon’s severed hand with his tail, he’s keeping that, he needs to figure out what the hell she did, what is up with those marks...

-The fight ends up going badly for General Star and his forces, becoming a massacre, once an even more pressured and maimed Moon truly snaps and fully unleashes a wider strike of Eclipsa’s spell in a fit of desperation and rage. Her blast wipes out most of the monster army. Rasticore loses an eye and an arm.

-Snapping out of his own battlerage and realizing the day was lost, and he had to protect what was left and regroup for another attempt, General Star calls for a retreat. Buff Frog drags Rasticore away. Others do the same with their few remaining and injured comrades. Star viciously taunts Moon, even with her mother’s death, to goad her and her forces into focusing on him and distracting her from his surviving troops. 

-General Star and his surviving troops manage to escape the battle with Moon. They do regroup. They eventually manage to recruit a few more monsters, but never fully make up in terms of numbers for what they lost. Nothing ever makes up for the emotional cost.

-General Star and Rasticore confirm that except for where Moon hit them with the spell directly, they can still regenerate every other part of themselves.

-Queen Moon gains a mechanical prosthetic for her missing forearm, that she keeps hidden along with the dark spell marks on her remaining arm, with long gloves she wears.

-When thinking of Moon after the battle that permanently took his eye and slaughtered so many of his original troops and also maimed Rasticore, General Star’s thoughts are clouded with thoughts of revenge, wanting to make her pay for the monsters she slaughtered. Revenge has always been one of the motives that drive General Star, but now Moon is among those he wants a very personal revenge against. When he tried to kill her the first time, of course there was revenge then--but it was a general revenge against what she represented, and also a desire to end the direct royal Butterfly line, especially since he had recently eliminated the queen before that.

-But Princess Toffee gives General Star pause, when she’s first born. When planning attacks on Moon, General Star does consider what he’d do with the newborn heir should he successfully kill her mother, and thinks he would spare her, and keep her close. General Star has a weakness and fondness for babies; he realizes that applies even to mewman ones. And he thinks it would be okay when the new princess grew up, because General Star would have taught her the right things, the bare minimum being, “don’t grow up into an invading conqueror and cruel and-slash-or apathetic racist like your ancestors.” 

-General Star covers up his magically maimed face with an eyepatch. He jokes with Rasticore that they’re “eyepatch besties” now, and is pleased when Rasticore grins back. Star gushes over his friend’s mechanical arm, and always makes sure it’s in working order. 

-General Star continues to fight Moon, engaging in quite a few battles with her. During one of these fights, Star loses track of Rasticore in the chaos of battle. When he continues to fail to find him in the aftermath, Star reluctantly and bitterly concludes he’s dead too. Star grows more vengeful toward Moon.

(-General Star and the rest of the monster rebels don’t realize Rasticore was taken alive by Miss Heinous, and brainwashed into serving her, an extension of her brainwashing efforts with princesses and her guard dogs.)

-After the last fight they will have for a very long time, General Star grows suspicious of why Moon has him banished and imprisoned, rather than execute him, after everything he’s done. He’s aware she can do it easily with whatever anti-regeneration spell she had. But she hasn’t even used it since that first disastrous battle, and that makes him suspicious too. Though General Star had kept the queen’s severed and dark-marked arm preserved and stashed away somewhere hidden, he had not managed to learn much from it. Nor had he managed to find much information on why the wand had gone berserk and mind-controlling when he held it in his claws. The only thing General Star could ever think was that the wand really hated monsters, whose shit It constantly wrecked.

-General Star is imprisoned for the bulk of Princess Toffee’s life, until she turns 14 and inherits the wand. At that point Buff Frog--who came to work for the Avarius family and then Ludo after Star had been captured and the rebel army fully dissolved without their leader--learned Star was actually still alive and where he was being held. (Moon had it publicly reported that General Star had been executed, and also tried to ban talk of him and erase proof of his existence.)

-General Star almost withdraws from making connections to other people after what he lost, to avoid inviting more personal pain--but he manages to still connect to others, to still be willing to care and risk the pain that may invite. He also manages to maintain his optimism.

-Buff Frog frees General Star, happily reunites with him and helps him physically recover from prison, and gets him a job with Ludo’s small army.

-At first a recovering Star is content to work with Buff Frog under Ludo, whom Star at first assumes is a new monster rebel joining the fight against the Butterfly kingdom. Star still an emotional person, and after everything, his confidence in his ability to lead isn’t that great. He’s willing to go back to being a follower for now (he had worked his way up to the rank of general before, which had required following someone else’s orders for a time).

-But after watching Ludo’s mistreatment of his troops, Star gets fed up, grabs Ludo’s dimensional scissors, and throws the smaller monster into the void.

-Up to this point, Ludo’s army had largely grown very fond of the friendly ex-general--but with the way Star very easily banishes Ludo, they’re freaked out by him for the first time. Even Buff Frog is concerned.

-But eventually things work out with the group and General Star takes over, with Buff Frog remaining at his side. General Star resumes his research into the wand and mewman magic...

-When Buff Frog adopts the tadpole monster babies, General Star happily babysits for him whenever he needs it. General Star adores the tadpoles.

-General Star still hesitates with Princess Toffee, when he finds that she hesitates. He feels that he can read something actually more open with the new princess, more open than her mother. General Star tries to act less rashly with this princess, and take more time to observe and evaluate her. When he tries to learn more about what he missed while in prison, including gathering more intel on the new heir, he catches gossip of the details of what the kingdom considered her lowborn and illegitimate birth, and the generally negative response to that. It adds to the disdain General Star has built up for mewmans in general after a lifetime of being oppressed by them; they’re just so cruel. General Star also realizes this could partly explain why Princess Toffee seems more open to his people’s plight and seem more estranged from the mewman kingdom--and it’s something he can try to use.   

-Turning Princess Toffee against the Butterfly Kingdom could be really ideal.

-One of General Star’s super dark secrets: He’s part Mewman. His parents were a monster and half-monster; his half-monster parent was Eclipsa’s child. Yes, General Star can call Eclipsa, “Grandma.”

-Then what’s the approximate age of General Star? To be honest, I’m not certain about that in brainstorming right now. (”But even if he’s Eclipsa’s /grandchild/, he must be--” I will forever see time travel/being sent centuries forward in time as totally a possibility in this bizarre fantasy world. Also, there may be other AU things I could do with this.)

And that is it, that’s all I have for now. Thanks so much for reading!

#svtfoe #toffee #star butterfly #toffee of septarsis #star vs the forces of evil #my fanart #my fanfic

[bluetapes]

Blue Tapes is an algorithm

The long Q/A version of an interview I did with  Kristoffer Patrick Cornils for the German magazine HHV on the thinking behind the Blue Tapes project.

What was your motivation to start the label back in 2012? What are you goals with the label?

Distracting myself from the doom, really. I think that’s all any creative endeavours are. I started the label as a visual art project to give myself something creative and positive to occupy my time with after I’d been knocked on my arse by a particularly nasty bout of depression. I think it was helpful to just have this little hobbyist project that involved going away and spending a lot of time thinking about colours and sounds. Before starting the label I had been a music journalist and I was sick of the sound of my own ‘voice’ and everyone else’s, really. Doing something small and simple and abstract and just for me was very rewarding. A few months into that, other people found it, and some of them liked it.

Stylistically, you don't seem to have any boundaries. What does a record have to bring to the table to be released through Blue Tapes, or what is the lowest common denominator between Katie Gately, accapella Death Metal and the keyboard improvisations of a 13-year-old?

Blue Tapes is an algorithm. There are three axes and the artists that score most highly along these axes are the ones I choose to work with. The axes could be labelled a) Is this something that people have heard before?; b) Do I like it?; and c) Will other people like it? That last one is the hardest to quantify. I’m never short of finding amazing, innovative music that I love, but I’ve lost so much money through doing the vinyl series in particular that I’ve had to face up to the fact that there’s not much point in releasing records that only a tiny proportion of humans will respond to.

(I mean, having said that, my next release IS a microtonal ambient black metal LP…)

Although there is a lot of musical diversity throughout the series I do put a huge amount of thought into why I might want to release something and it has been curated to make sense as a series, even if the only person that it ultimately makes sense to is me? From a marketing perspective it’s a nightmare, obviously.

How do you find the artists that release on Blue Tapes? Do you do your A&R work on the internet or do you rather use your personal connections?

For the early releases, I would often have an idea of the KIND of thing I would want to release - say an acapella death metal album - and then I’d go online and try and find somebody who with a bit of convincing and a bit of imagination could deliver that. Soundcloud was a pretty invaluable resource for this.

Some very good friends of mine started the 20 Jazz Funk Greats blog back in 2004. I started blogging for it more after starting the label and I found a few of the artists (Plains Druid, Unfollow, Trupa Trupa) through that.

Very rarely it might be somebody who contacts me (hi Benjamin Finger) but mostly it’s me trying to imagine the music I want to release and then finding the nearest thing to that sound in my head in real life. (Without me having to get my hands dirty and make it myself… because I suck at the music.)

In 2014, you have launched X-Ray Records, a vinyl sublabel to Blue Tapes. What was the idea behind that and how do you decide if a record's coming out on tape or vinyl?

This is part of the process that I’m still tinkering with and trying to get right, but mostly it just came down to whether it felt right to do so. I’d had the visual concept for the series in my head for a while, and it made sense to try and reissue some of the bigger tape releases on vinyl cos they’d had an impact and a lot of people had missed out. Mostly I just really wanted to own a copy of the Tashi Dorji album on see-through vinyl so I took out a bank loan to get one! Sort of a foolish enterprise, but I’m unrepentant.

People can subscribe to your tape or vinyl series and even Blue Tapes shirts. What was your idea behind that subscription service and how have people responded to it so far?

There’s a small coterie of subscribers who I guess are kind of at the heart of the BT/XR family.

The first germ of an idea relating to Blue Tapes was that I was really into making cyanotypes at the time and I wanted to find some kind of a purpose for them, to justify their existence, so I had a sort of mad idea to make a series of limited edition t-shirts with cyanotype prints on them, that you could subscribe to. I was quite excited by it as a concept but it probably wasn’t destined to register with the outside world very well! Somewhere down the line, instead of the art being a t-shirt, it became a tape with a piece of music or other sound on it and an image that could collectively be represented by a serial number, rather than a title.

I always thought the subscription element was important in a way, because I think the series does only make sense if you view it as a curated body of work rather than discrete entities, but admittedly that’s not actually how people consume or usually think about music.

Your artwork is very recognisable not only because it's, well, mostly blue. What's the concept behind that and how do you create those washed out effects?

So the process I mentioned before, cyanotype, is a pre-camera photographic technique that uses sunlight and water and chemicals to create images. It was originally developed for scientists and engineers to reproduce diagrams or other plans. Because the chemicals produce a blue-coloured print, they became known as ‘blueprints’.

I find analogue processes a lot more interesting to think about than digital processes, so cassette tapes and cyanotypes made very natural bedfellows for me.

Some of the images are created using other ‘alternative process’ photographic techniques - those very ‘washed out’ colours are done using a technique called transaquatype, where you use water to try and intentionally make the colours run - but I think the best ones are the cyanotypes, particularly the cyanotype abstracts.

The X-Ray series, as suggested by the name, takes a very different approach. Is that perhaps a reference to those literal X-Rays from the Soviet era on which people cut music because they lacked the ressources for vinyl?

The name is a reference to that, for sure. But it also links back to the cyanotypes. The first step in making a cyanotype using the modern method is to create an enlarged negative of your source image on acetate. These enlarged negatives are pretty cool objects in their own right, and I started to think they’d make really cool vinyl packaging. So, for instance, if you take the Tashi Dorji LP, the artwork is actually the negative of the original tape artwork.

Held up to the light it looks a little like an x-ray, so X-Ray Records. It could have been ‘Negative Records’ or something but that sounds way too much like a hardcore label! And, y’know, also the Soviet thing.

Some of the earlier releases lack pretty much any information, which can be quite confusing for people who don't neatly organise their collection like I do, I guess. How do the artists respond to this serialisation? I can imagine that some would see their work compromised if they had to name it after a catalogue number.

No one’s really complained about it, but you’re probably right. I think with this thing it was almost like starting a band or something, rather than joining someone else’s band. I was able to say, look, this is the concept, if you want to be a part of it then cool but if not then no worries. It IS confusing and I would never judge anyone for not wanting to get onboard with it!

But it was important to me to present the series as a process that was configured to output a singular piece of art every month, rather than as a ‘label’, which actually felt more dishonest - it’s not a business, it doesn’t make any money. The aesthetics of the label and its cataloguing were contrived that way to try and make the ‘art’ the physical rectangular object that you hold in your hand, and as a self-conscious attempt to get away from the idea of the ‘album’, which for a while I genuinely thought might be one of the most boring ways there is to present music.

Maybe I also thought that by starving the listener of as much context and extraneous information as possible I might help them to have a more honest/profound relationship with the music, in the same way that music always sounds better when you listen to it in the dark. (Note: This is wishful and possibly deluded thinking.)

The vinyl series has titles, though.

You've put out around 30 records so far, but what would you say is the most important one? Strictly personally speaking or in regards to the label.

In regards to the label the most important one was the Katie Gately tape. It’s also just an important piece of music, I think. It set a new bar.

I do think there is a common trait that unites a lot of Blue Tapes music, despite the disparities in genre, and I think it’s unique to us because I don’t hear it in that much other stuff that I listen to as a music fan, apart from some ancient musics like gagaku sometimes. It’s a quality rather than a sound - and often the releases that have the most of this quality, or ‘feeling’, are the ones I’m most fond of.

It’s entirely subjective and also very difficult to describe, but the way I experience it is like the sensation you might get when you’re really exhausted - like, exhausted to the ends of your nerves - but instead of it being a sick feeling, it’s euphoric. Your brain switches off, stops decoding things, and stimuli wash over you - but not in a passive, bored way, they seep into every nook and cranny of your consciousness and flood it with colour and sensation. Almost like a high, I guess, but a sober, unpsychedelic one. I’m not a religious person but that particular communion I have with this music is the closest I get to something spiritual in my life.

These feelings and ego-annihilating qualities seem to be more present in very minimal music - the Tashi Dorji, Library of Babel and Mats Gustafsson records are swarming with it - but I hear it in some very maximal music, too. I hear it in Jute Gyte.

I don’t know enough about Pauline Oliveros to know if this is what she was describing with ‘deep listening’, but you could reasonably apply the term to the sounds we’re presenting for you.