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#: so it is written. so it must be :

hyperfixmee · 7 months

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"who will pray for me? when I'm gone? or is this the eternal dark without a dawn?"

are lyrics that just slap you in the face with emotion and normal people won't believe it comes from a musical called nerdy prudes must die.

#starkid #nerdy prudes must die #I can't get those lyrics out of my head bc they slapped and were performed so well #i'm not the only one who can hear the lyrics despite their written form right??#mine

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perigilpin · 6 months

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During the scene in episode six what always strikes me is that I absolutely think Crowley knows pre-kiss that Aziraphale’s decision has been made. So when he decides to go in for the kiss, he knows it’s not something that he’s going to change Aziraphale’s mind with. That’s already done. It’s not a card Crowley is trying to play to change the outcome, it’s a card he’s playing specially to hurt Aziraphale in the way he’s deeply hurting in that moment. Based on Aziraphale’s face after he moves the fingers away from his lips I think he knows this as well.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens fanart #crowley x aziraphale #good omens 2 #my art #I’ve had this text written forever so I finally put it to (digital) paper #it’s not enough to defend Aziraphale online I need a gun #but fr fr #How bitter it must be to have that want turned into a weapon!

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dear-ao3 · 5 months

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something entirely batshit about forcing a 25 year old cd player and a spectacularly scratched cd that your neighbors band made in 2005 into submission and having an absolutely epic childhood moment

#god i WISH i could share this music with you all it goes so hard #aged like the finest wine #THE FINEST #some of these lines i’m like #THIS WAS WRITTEN WHEN GEORGE W BUSH WAS IN OFFICE????#must be a lie it’s too good #not a tag #from saph

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uncanny-tranny · 5 months

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The thing that gets me about history and humanity is that you never know what is immortalized, and the things that will be immortalized are things you would never think.

I saw a person sharing a new tattoo, and it was one of Onfim's drawings. A boy who lived so long ago he is barely a blip now, but his drawings meant so much to people that somebody is now permanently marked in their skin with one of those drawings. Do you ever look at the things you make and just sit there and wonder if this is the thing that future people look at? Do you ever look at your art, your writing, your schoolwork, or anything that is yours and just wonder who will find it, who will fall in love with a piece of your humanity and become overwhelmed with emotion over? It's not unlikely. It's not totally unlikely that somebody will find a piece of you in the distant future and devoid of any other context of who you were will still love you because you were here. You were here, and you are still here, even hundreds or thousands of years later. Treat yourself with the same love that so many have for dear Onfim.

#positivity #gentle reminders #if anybody has ancient children's drawings beside onfim let me know they melt my heart #i have always wanted a tattoo of that kind of thing too and i want ideas #see if archeologists dig me up or whomever else they won't find significant tattoos or other things. they will see i have loss.jpeg on me #and i think that's just as important. these people must know that people are silly and weird and don't make sense and that's IMPORTANT #i'm just. so obsessed with this because it's instantly humanizing #what little child hasn't drawn humans with twelve fingers per hand #or those kids drawings where it's only a torso/head conglomerate with stick legs and hands #i just really lived seeing how their tattoo turned out because i wasn't sure if it would look good in ink and skin #i feel the same way about archiving the internet. i was looking for the written crochet pattern for something #and the person who wrote and created it passed away and their blog has been scrubbed #their blog only exists on the archives. their pattern is only accessible on youtube because somebody made a video tutorial with the pattern #it's an eerie feeling. they've been gone for two years but their blog has been tethered by the wayback machine

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cloud-hymn · 1 month

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People that hate Nicky for what happened during the first Eden’s scene in tfc but say nothing about Andrew really drive me up the wall. Like personally I choose not to acknowledge that scene as canon but if you’re gonna call Nicky an evil monster for kissing Neil, maybe hold the same energy for Andrew who not only horrifically violated Neil’s consent and autonomy by drugging him but then didn’t even bother making sure nothing happened to him while he was high out of his mind in the middle of a fucking night club. Like genuinely the whole scene is horrific and so fundamentally misrepresents both Andrew and Nicky as characters but people are so hypocritical about it that it makes me feel crazy.

#I feel like this scene must have been written before Nora really had a grasp on the characters but who knows #andriel deserved better than this scene #so did Nicky #all for the game #aftg #andrew minyard #neil josten #nicky hemmick #kevin day #aaron minyard #andriel #briar.txt

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boyquiet · 5 months

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i think that we need to get over the narrative that you can’t have gay villains because that’s a harmful stereotype because there’s a huge difference between “this character is gay and a bad person” and “this character was written specifically to equate being gay and being evil/depraved/degenerate”. it’s just such a narrow minded view of fiction that leads to people afraid to write queer characters as anything less than morally perfect and then to a bunch of palatable but bland and boring queer characters that are arguably worse representation than a gay villain because they are not allowed to do anything wrong. while it is important to write all types of gay characters a work isn’t instantly “problematic” because the villain is queer and the hero isn’t. I think this is also related to the idea of subtext vs text in gay media and how I see a lot of people get mad bc the homoerotic subtext isn’t made canon without considering the context of it at all—sometimes creators make artistic decisions for reasons other than that they didn’t want the gay people to kiss because they’re homophobic. well written queer subtext can be better than a canon gay couple with no personality or relevance and a queer villain can be a better queer character than a gay hero because the characters in-universe morality isn’t inherently tied to how much care they are written with and the quality of “queer representation” isn’t determined by the amount of times they kiss on screen.

#mainly this is brought on by mgs discourse surrounding vamp and volgin and ocelot #I was telling a friend who isn’t into mgs about how ocelot is gay and a sadist and they asked if there were any good gay characters in mgs #and I was like um well no one is really a good character in this series. but yeah I guess #and they said ‘then the game is redeemed’#that was pretty disappointing to me im not making a callout for my friend or anything but like. you cant judge a work on its rep #by weighing the number of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ queer characters mathematically #it’s shallow and reductive both to queer rep and the concept of gray morality #never mind that ocelot is one of the most important well written and beloved characters in the franchise. hes gay and evil so that must #make him a derogatory stereotype and ‘bad representation’#anyway I think ocelot should torture and kill more people for fun #queer #lgbtq

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carrotkicks · 7 months

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Fugitives arc - Abridged vrs.

(part of the sends them to school au)

hehe so guess what! I took my insanity to new heights and I actually tried to write (horrifying) do tell me how it goes for you

It took exactly 9 seconds to find the extra bandages. Dr. Mori was always reliable about keeping medical supplies ready on hand but Dazai counted anyway. It’s a habit she’s grown over the years. Her eyepatch had gotten rather grimy after a long day on the run, and the bacteria that may have collected could give her another infection, so she might as well change it, right?

Right! That’s a good start. Redoing her bandages is an excellent next step in her plan to somehow get herself and Chuuya out of this debacle.

Speaking of, Chuuya was currently in the bedroom, trying to find something to wear that was left lying around in this safe house. Dazai had helped her take a bath earlier, and it took a lot of effort on her part to not freak out. Not that Chuuya noticed, of course. Chuuya might have a second special ability to be completely oblivious to some things. Like when someone’s putting the moves on her, or when she’s in pain. It’s as though she entirely lacks self-preservation. Does she have a death wish or something? Oh wait –

Dazai freezes that horribly ironic train of thought to remind herself she’s in a bathroom surrounded by puddles of Chuuya’s blood and tattered clothes. After the bandages, I’ll clean this mess. That’s a good next, next step.

Chuuya had gotten injured, somehow. A deep gash on the back of her neck, like a creature sunk its claws in her and pulled something out. Dazai frowned at the thought as she pulled her patch off. Chuuya hasn’t said a word about why they were hiding but after the events of the past few days, Dazai’s overactive mind was starting to paint a bleak picture.

Chuuya wasn’t at school for the past few days. On the third day of her absence, her literature teacher pulled her aside with a packet of coursework in hand.

“I know you’re close to Nakahara-chan. Perhaps you can deliver her the materials she’s missed this past week so she doesn’t fall too far behind. And check in on her too, okay?”

Of course, Dazai readily agreed. Their Sensei has always shown exasperation towards Chuuya’s poor attendance habits, but today there was a strange tightness in her smile that made Dazai’s stomach settle uncomfortably.

Kunikida decided to join her to deliver the notes – “Not that I don’t think you’re capable of it on your own. I’m putting up with you because it’s a dangerous location, and I would like to see how Nakahara-san is doing” he declared. Naturally, Dazai had cheerfully wrapped an arm around his waist and accepted his chivalrous offer. Kunikida may give the pretenses of aloofness but he worries too much for the act to hold any weight. That’s how Dazai managed to figure out what happened after that disastrous mistake on her part last Friday.

Kunikida and Yosano both agreed to this story: Chuuya looked very pale when they entered the club room. She claimed she was ill and decided to leave after minutes in. That’s where it ended, frustratingly enough. At yesterday’s Detectives Club meeting, Ranpo mentioned to her briefly “I don’t think things look very good at home for Chuuya-kun.” Dazai nodded.

I figured as much too.

That’s why when she and Kunikida stepped up to a ratty-looking apartment unit in a ratty-looking apartment complex in the Suribachi neighborhood on the outskirts of Yokohama, she had Hirotsu in a van full of Mafia guards parked two blocks away. Her security detail was also following close by but she’s not supposed to know about them, so if anyone asks, what security detail?

“This is the right place?” Kunikida asked, looking back at the surroundings. The area didn’t seem safe, at least for a couple of kids wearing uniforms for one of the most prestigious private academies in Yokohama. Even if those kids were ability users.

“It’s the address Sensei gave me,” Dazai responded in a relaxed fashion. She gazed back to where Kunikida was looking. An armored truck hidden under the shade of a tree.

“Supposedly there’s a military base nearby,” she rationalized. Kunikida only nodded uneasily.

Dazai grinned and began ruffling through her bag for the handouts. “Hey, if Chuuya answers the door, she won’t be in her school uniform.”

“Hm.” Kunikida stepped forward and knocked. Three times.

“I bet she has an awful fashion sense. She seems like the type, right?”

“Anything Nakahara-san chooses for her style will be an improvement to your bandages, Dazai-chan.”

“Tch. Rude.”

The door opened. The timer starts.

Standing there was a tall man wearing a lab coat and a gentle smile. “Hello. Can I help you?” He has glasses and graying hair. He’s keeping his hands in his pockets, one of which seems to be holding something. 6 seconds.

Kunikida must have picked up that Dazai wasn’t willing to talk, and took over. “Hello sir, is this the residence of Nakahara Chuuya-san?”

“Yes, I’m her father. She’s not well right now, so I’m afraid you can’t see her.” 18 seconds. From what Dazai could see there wasn’t any furniture other than a sofa, coffee table, and coat rack. Chuuya’s signature boots weren’t by the entrance.

“That’s… alright. We just came to deliver some of the notes and homework she’s missed. We’re classmates.” The blinds in the apartment were drawn, and there was something in the shadow that Dazai couldn’t make out clearly. 23 seconds.

Chuuya’s “father” accepted the offered papers swiftly without a second glance. “I’ll see that she gets these. Anything else?” 31 seconds. A glint of metal, that looked the shape of –

“Nope, that’s it! We’ll take our leave then. Please tell Chuuya we hope she feels better for us, sir” Dazai cut in. She nudged Kunikida’s foot Come on, time to go.

Kunikida gave a courteous bow. “Thank you for your time, Nakahara-san.”

At that, a strange smirk crossed over the man’s face, as if he heard the world’s most ironic joke. “Of course.” He made eye contact with Dazai for a moment and she really hoped she was giving him a polite smile because her eyes felt far too wide to be anything other than manic. Then the door slammed shut.

The entire encounter lasted 42 seconds, and Dazai already figured out more than she wanted to. “Chuuya wasn’t there. That man wasn’t her father” She tells Kunikida when they’re far enough away from the building. Her friend gave her a sharp look, but it wasn’t an "I don’t believe you". It helped the tightness in her throat clear a little.

“How do you figure?”

Dazai furrowed her brow, “That apartment isn’t lived in at all. None of Chuuya’s possessions were to be found. And…” She halted. Kunikida stopped beside her. “Inside I saw a glimpse of a rifle, a military-grade one. There was definitely an armed soldier hiding in the back, and likely the rest of their squad too.” Soldiers, a military base, a man in a lab coat, and a missing ability user. A terrible combination.

Kunikida muttered what was absolutely not a curse. “We need to find Nakahara quickly.” He says, not wasting a moment to pull out his phone to dial who she thinks is Ranpo.

Dazai nods, already feeling more confident. But Yokohama’s a big city, how are they supposed to find one tiny person like –

***

“Dazai. Dazaiiiiiiii! Are you- oh!” Chuuya rushed out about as quickly as she entered. Dazai had scrambled to throw her hands up to hide her uncovered eye. She exhaled heavily as she tried to suppress the irritation that flared up in her chest. That was terrible timing on her part, and she should have accounted for Chuuya being her spontaneous self.

“Seriously, Chibi? Didn’t anyone teach you to knock first?”

“Sorry. I didn’t expect you to be indecent.” Dazai isn’t naked, just bandage-less right now. Oh, Chuuya’s trying to be funny.

“Humor isn’t your thing Slug-chan. Hhh, tell me. Did you see it?” Dazai doesn’t know why she’s feeling so self-conscious. Her eye healed a long time ago, even if seeing out of it is still quite blurry, it looks perfectly fine. But in the year since the … injury … Dazai has only been able to bear looking at her own unobstructed reflection for only a few minutes at a time. The only other person who could be comparable was the Good Doctor himself.

There’s a silence behind the door. Then, Chuuya says, “I saw you, Dazai.”

Dazai doesn’t know how to respond to that, and it seems like Chuuya may have realized because there’s a hesitant turn of the door handle. Dazai puts her hand over the right side of her face for good measure.

The door creaks open and the redhead shuffles in. Literally shuffles, Dazai realized, those clothes were huge on her, practically swallowing her frame. The sleeves of the collared shirt she found were rolled up to her elbows and the black slacks she was wearing must have been cuffed 3(?) times. They must be Dr. Mori’s, a little voice in Dazai’s head supplied. She looks cute in them, an unhelpful one adds. She looked cuter covered in blood, to be honest, another, more unhelpful, eviler voice continued. Hold on, has Dazai ever seen Chuuya wear long pants before?

Whatever. It didn’t matter because obviously, Dazai laughed out loud at the sight. Maybe overcompensated even, she really needed this chance to tease Chuuya. Any chance she’ll get. For her part, Chuuya must have anticipated this reaction because she just huffs out in annoyance and drags herself closer. When her giggles died down, she realized that Chuuya had grabbed her hand and was looking directly into her eyes, and a self-satisfied grin settled on her face.

Ah, Dazai’s mouth felt dry again, so she lowers her head. Chuuya took that as a cue to start talking. “It’s only fair, Dazai. You got to see all of me, so I deserve some leverage on you too.”

Leverage? Oh… Dazai thinks she gets it. Chuuya’s at Dazai’s mercy right now. Dazai’s father owns this safe house, Dazai’s people are guarding the perimeter, and Dazai’s the one who can treat her injuries. Chuuya’s asking for some control over the situation. She’s asking for trust in return. Dazai can handle that.

She looks up, but Chuuya’s already turned her head away, cheeks a faint red. She detaches her hand but Dazai grabs it before it can retreat further.

“Hey.” Dazai brings Chuuya’s hand close to her face. Chuuya meets here eyes. She seems confused. “A while ago I got into an accident.”

“An accident?” If Chuuya doubts her, she wouldn’t show it.

“Yeah. It really messed up the right side of my face. It used to look really bad so I always bandaged it. It became a habit.”

Dazai hesitated on the next part. “And when I see myself without the patches, I get reminded how human I look.”

Chuuya’s gaze was unreadable now.

Shit. Don’t say more. Dazai found herself stuck explaining, “And it makes me a fraud because I’m not a human. Not inside. Not where it matters” Stop oversharing! She can feel her heartbeat going faster “Ahh ~ that part’s not really a big deal, though. How’s my face, Chuuya-kun? Is it cute?”

“What the hell are you saying, Dazai?” When she’s upset Chuuya’s voice goes down an octave from her usual high throaty pitch. It seems that’s the case here. Dazai stayed transfixed to the anger brewing in her eyes, and didn’t noticed that Chuuya’s hands landed themselves on either side of her face, cupping it gentler than her expression would have let on.

“Don’t you ever say that to my face again! You're not human? That’s complete bullshit.” Who taught Chuuya how to curse, anyway?

“Chuuya I-”

“Shut up. Don’t you understand, Dazai?” She really doesn’t understand. Chuuya’s expression melts into something Dazai can’t recognize. Her thumb strokes her right cheek and then Dazai is being pulled closer to the Earth. At some point her eyes close. Some muddled thought about trust floats around her head.

“You’re the most human person I’ll ever meet.”

Something soft and warm. Right under her eye. Dazai snaps back into awareness as Chuuya pulls away, red-faced, like a shrimp. A shrimpy color on a shrimpy person. Or the color of crab. Dazai loves crab. Dazai loves- Chuuya squirmed under her gaze. Oh, right. How much time did she just lose?

“You took me by surprise last Friday,” Chuuya confesses, looking away in embarrassment. “And then I got scared, because I felt so good in that one moment with you, and then I had to go back… Home.” She shuddered. “And I’ve been trying change, you know? Because I didn’t feel alive until I met you, and then suddenly I wanted to feel alive for you.”

Dazai didn’t know how to respond, so she wrapped her hand around the back of Chuuya’s neck, carefully over thick patch of gauze that protected her injury. Chuuya looked breathless. “And then last week, I realized that my freedom had run out, so I took a chance and escaped. And now we’re here. And it’s all your fault Dazai. I did it because of you.”

There’s something dark and stormy in Chuuya’s eyes.

“And that stupid goddamned kiss. It was fucking incredible .”

Dazai closed the distance between them again. And again. And again. And again and again and again and again and again andagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagain –

***

So their night went peacefully after that. Dazai never ended up rewrapping her eye, just for the sake of savoring that adorable flustered look on Chuuya’s face. Cleaning the bathroom was a more irritating chore. Dazai had nudged the pile that was Chuuya’s blood-soaked uniform and a random set of green and yellow gardening gloves she somehow acquired. (“Hey you sure you didn’t go and murder anyone, Slug?” she had taunted. Chuuya ominously didn’t answer.) Dr Mori had kept a huge stock of spicy instant noodles in the pantry and the two of them held a contest to see who could handle the spice better. It ended in a tie because Dazai refused to admit she had a runny nose and tears in her eyes.

And now they were in bed, in each other's arms. Dazai hugged her… girlfriend? partner? … closer. Chuuya was so warm. Like a human furnace. Dazai could happily die right now. Until Chuuya spoke up.

“Dazai, why did you tell me I would look cute in a cage right before you kissed me. ” Death needs to arrive a little faster. Dazai is a little spent from the embarrassing and soulbearing conversations earlier.

“It. It was a dog joke Chuuya. Because you’re my doggy.”

“Likely story. You just want me to have no freedom under you instead.” Dazai pointedly didn’t wrap herself around Chuuya more, to prove her self restraint and respect for Chuuya’s autonomy.

“Please drop it. You don’t understand my prodigal mind.”

“Hmm. How about never?”

A comfortable silence settled over them again. Chuuya pushed herself deeper into Dazai’s hold. She was wearing a pair of oven mits that she found in the kitchen, and Dazai didn’t bother to ask why. What did matter was that this moment never ended.

“Dazai.” Chuuya started. “I’m…”

“Hm?” Dazai shifted her position so she could see Chuuya’s expression. It was horribly vulnerable.

“I… don’t think I’ll be sleeping tonight.”

The unspoken words rang clearly in Dazai’s mind. She smiled and ran her hand through the short red hair. There was a light shining in Chuuya’s eyes. If they were going to pull an all-nighter, then Dazai better start counting.

“Yeah. Me too, Chuuya”

***

Dazai woke up to the barrel of an assault rifle pressed to her temple and a tall man in a white lab coat holding Chuuya in his arms.

#i never actually written like. normally non-essay context b4 so sorry if it doesn't work well.#but here lemme ramble a second.#i skipped around a bit like where dazai actually finds chuuya. or this part where black lizard fights the military fight to let skk escape #i've always had this fixation with dazai timing things to the second. whether it be for plans or to help him analyze things quickly #or just a habit #i'm obssesed with flipping the script for these two in the au. chuuya get's to be 'ur literally peak human' to dazai this time #minor headcanon abt dz's right eye #I wanted to put a little effort into Kunikida and dazai's friendship here too! he's such a reliable bro. putting an emphasis on trust yknow #you can ask about the oven mitts but i can't really give you a response #no apologies for the ending :3 #anyways. escalate escalate escalate escalate #no more school! time for the Horrors #what's next on schoolkoku trauma hour?#dazai finally gets the bigger picture and then it becomes sends them to jail au.#fukuzawa and mori must team up to post bail.#and the return of Coach Frankenstein???#bsd #bungo stray dogs #dazai #chuuya #kunikida #mentioned: yosano ranpo mori and hirotsu.#skk #fem soukoku

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merakiui · 5 months

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thinking about time loops and the idea of grim reaper!floyd sent to capture your soul and ferry it onwards to the afterlife, but he can't do that because you're stuck in a time loop. maybe unfortunate circumstances have led to your untimely death, but then something goes terribly wrong and, though you know you should be dead, you wake up and the day starts again and you're completely fine. of course this anomaly is what first grabs floyd's attention. you can't have more than one life; that's not how it works. so he's sent to correct things: pull you free from the time loop and take your very overdue soul.

AAAAAAA the concept of being hunted down by floyd, who greatly enjoys the chase at first until the task becomes near-impossible and suddenly he's less excited to catch you and more annoyed that you're so slippery due to the nature of the time loop...... and you think you can keep outrunning him because the time loop has given you a new appreciation for life and you can't possibly let him take your soul right now—not when you've just started to truly live!

it's all fun and games until you have not one but two grim reaper eels after you. :) if floyd is easy mode, then jade is impossible mode. floyd's mercurial, so he may just give up halfway through. but jade's determined to catch you, and each day you spend in your little loop, living off of borrowed time and getting intimate with that guy (azul) you were crushing on all throughout university, he grows ever-closer, his presence looming like a shadow.

#meraki mumbles #*quickly adds this to the list of octavinelle must-write concepts*#i want to write fight scenes so badly omg!!! i love fight scenes #i haven't written a fight scene since 2019??? aaaaa it's been too long >_<#but that will change when i begin rook's time loop fic >:) there are plenty of action and fight scenes planned!!!!!!

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elbiotipo · 4 months

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perhaps this is not precisely the point, but this is why I get annoyed at the commercialist insistence of rebranding Christmas as the Generic Winter Holiday That Can Be Enjoyed By Everyone. All the things the West (in the Northern Hemisphere) associate with Christmas are pure simulacra, dettached from anything that once was originally celebrating. I celebrate Christmas in summer with 38°C because I'm celebrating the birth of Christ and having a good time with my family. It wasn't invented by Coca-Cola, my grandparents told my dad about el Niñito Dios and the Reyes Magos way before anyone here heard about Santa Claus (Papá Noel, by the way). Navidad is not an invented holiday. "Xmas" is something invented in yanquilandia to sell stuff to everyone.

And no, this is not a traditionalist Christian posture from me, in fact it's the exact opposite because NOBODY should be forced to celebrate Christmas, the efforts to secularize Christmas just turn into that, which I'm opposed to; I'm saying Christmas needs to be a Christian thing so that it's not forced into everyone else. But the thing we are forced to celebrate currently is not even Christmas now, it's the Generic Winter Holiday invented by US commercialism. It somehow manages to impose Christian-normativity without the Christianity, Eurocentrism diluted to something I only can call "temperatecentrism", making you desire snow and reindeers while it's 35°C outside. Pure, unfiltered capital.

En fin. Felices Fiestas.

#cosas mias #when I say that holding temperate climates as the standard is a very subtle (not so) form of devaluing other places I'm not kidding #I'm sure someone must have written about this better than me #christmas

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