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zecretsanta · 5 months

Photo

to: @goggles-girl

from: @mortellanarts

prompt: Junpei and Akane decide to adopt a pet together (and it doesn’t come as naturally as they would like at first)

I also made a fic for this one! I feel like the first thing that would go wrong is that Akane wouldn’t be comfortable taking care of animals again at all, the second would be that Junpei’s canonically an impulse adopter. So this ended up being more about getting Akane to come around about the idea in the first place (also many catgirl jokes at her expense lmao) Also about the drawing I imagine she quickly comes around to enjoying the little head boops while reading :3

Hope you enjoy!

——————

Junpei and Akane had gone through hell to be by each other’s sides. That was true, sure, but a few years into their ‘happy ending’ and the picture perfect act has begun to feel rather unsustainable. Not to mention it should have long since stopped being an act to begin with.

The I love you’s are very real… when they are apart.

It’s not as bad as when they first reunited at least, it wasn’t a very fun sort of tension like she vicariously lived through a little by playing June all that time ago. No, it was more comparable to the tension between a bleeding wound and the injured hand applying pressure to it. They both knew it, felt it, then let the matter join the many subjects which they don’t talk about. Ever. Despite the fact that they probably should.

As counterintuitive as it sounds, their counter to all of that was wanting to be with each other as much as possible. Maybe that’d make the pain fade. To get to know each other better like any normal couple, maybe a bit to prove to themselves they still liked each other’s company and that they hadn’t changed completely from what brought them together as kids.

Big problem with that is, the farthest thing Akane wanted for any of those outings, especially the rare ones where she was somehow convinced into going outdoors, was for it to so closely remind her of any of the things that brought them closer together at that terrible tender age of twelve.

Wandering into an animal shelter wasn’t the intention behind this little stroll. Neither of them even knew it’d be here- really, it wasn’t even much of a proper shelter to begin with, it seems more like an adoption fair. One that was hopefully backed by an indisputably good-faith, locally known and reliable organization– and not by any other corporate entity with history that she’d be tempted to add to her criminal record over. Every time Junpei tells her that the ever-present instinct to suspect and look into every little thing she comes across is bad for her he also fumbles and asks what are the chances she’d just happen to bump into that kind of huge conspiracy so often in her life without actively looking. She answers it’s always a non-zero chance in the end, and they risk far more if unsuspecting. That’s always when he drops the subject.

Though at a certain awkward distance from the fences, she’d elected to just go along with it and follow him for as long as the detour entertains him. It’s not like she hates getting to see the little critters around the place, she’s not that messed up about it, of course not… There’s even a comfortable amount of people around too! Which is to say, far less than there are animals.

There would have been an attempt to just keep walking past where this was taking place, if not for the fact that it really hadn’t taken long for Junpei to start playing with one of the dogs. Not that the rest of the pack wasn’t jumping at trying to grab his attention too, of course, but he took a liking to a particular one.

Noticing she’d stayed behind, barely budging an inch, his voice turns into that clumsy but cute stammering, like it always does whenever he’s trying to sound sensible.

“Oh uh, do you- uh… do you have a fear of dogs?” It helps ease her into a grin just a little.

“No. ‘Afraid’ isn’t the word I’d use…” She just doesn’t know what to do with her hands at the moment other than hold onto Junpei’s, which wasn’t helped when he suddenly let go. And well, it’s not like she knows the temperament of the animals just by looking and it’s really a lot of sudden movements to keep track of in just one place, it’s also not like she would want to risk bothering them when she barely wants to be touched ever without initiating it either, not to mention the space they’re in seems quite small– she makes herself smile again and tilts her head squinting, realizing she’d forgotten to ask. “Is… that a Boston terrier?”

“…Got it. Well, you are more of a cat person I guess. And uh- I don’t know? If you say so, then it must be? I’m not really good at remembering the names for these.”

She steps closer and leans down next to him, who is just sitting on the floor without a care, palms on her knees for support.

"It’s not like I hate pups just because I get along better with the cats.”

"Of course not, just look at them. Aw… it’s hard to imagine anyone could hate these guys.”

Avoidant as she may be, after a solid half minute or so of her watching him have fun she also extends her hand out to pet the dog who, while not showing clear distaste for it or anything, only goes back to wagging its tail when circling back to Junpei. He quickly took over once more when she retracted her hand, vigorously pulling his hands along the fur around the collar and talking to it in a jumbled baby-talk that was apparently really enriching judging by how it earns enthusiastic barking back, as if in conversation. Exactly matching all that energy that Akane couldn’t imagine keeping up with even on a good day.

Between laughter, his voice starts being directed at her again, even if what he says is more of a musing to himself.

"Wait, I think I’m beginning to remember what this little guy reminds me of…”

Oh. Only now? Come on Jumpy, this one’s even black and white as well.

That’s it, she’s got to mess with him now.

"You mean like… a wrestler? The spots on its face already look like a mask but I’m sure a fun little costume would be a really cute look. Clover could DIY a big belt spelling out ‘winner’ for them as well! Unless- or was it a retired wrestler…?”

"No- what are you talking about?! Everything that you just said was absolutely bananas–” Even if his tone poorly feigns appalment there’s humor in it too. "I mean- what’s wrestling got to do with anything, what the hell–?”

"You mean you don’t know?”

It was just ‘bananas’ enough to pull his eyes away from the dog and, apparently, being met with her expression looking down at him while knowingly and visibly holding in laughter, was all it took for it to finally dawn on him.

"Ohh— ” She starts laughing before he facepalms and, from the sound of it, he hits far harder than intended too. Pulling her partner to his feet by hooking her arm under his, she speaks cheerily only once he seems to have recovered enough.

"You shouldn’t touch your face without washing your hands first.”

"Come on, give a guy a moment, okay? This is an overwhelming amount of emotion to feel all at once…” It’s endearing to see him engage in his own variety of theatrics, even if only for the sake of unfunny jokes that she can’t help but be fond of anyways.

"Dork.”

"But hey, you’re right. It would be pretty funny to give him a little wrestler costume… You sure there’s no place for him back home?”

Home as a single stationary place still sounds so foreign to her, and that’s just the part she doesn’t want to talk about.

"We’re here just looking.”

"You say that as if I were a stranger asking and not part of the we in question.”

"Very well. I did not intend on being here today and I won’t indulge in what’s essentially impulse buying a living being, Jumpy.”

"Come on Kanny, what could go wrong? I mean, we’ve got space, we’ve got more than enough funds, I think it would be–”

”What could go wrong?” Sometimes it’s hard to tell if he’s being dense on purpose. “Do you really need me to say it?”

"I… thought you liked animals?”

And with that, it’s finally safe to assume Junpei’s chances of getting his tact back are long gone. Not that she thinks he ever had any to lose.

Flat shoes walk away into the fair, but that’s only because the best way out is through. Akane gets pretty far in before Junpei decides to stop dancing around the subject and puts himself square in front of her, blocking the way.

"Look, I never heard of a single other person who had luck as shitty as we did that summer. Alright? It wasn’t a subject I looked into much but even hearing from people in law enforcement it was a freakish animal cruelty incident that doesn’t happen often. That whole area had issues with that sort of thing anyw–”

"I never heard of luck as poor as I was left with that whole entire year.”

"Y-yeah, there’s that-” When they do bring up a subject that should be buried, there’s not much to do except measure the reaction. That’s what’s between them, if they can’t look away then it better mean something at least. "And… I wasn’t there to help at first, but I came around eventually. I won’t let something like that happen again.”

It’s sweet, he even holds her hand in his… but it’s still a little conceited.

"What makes you think I would?”

"Perfect! Then, we’re both in agreement. There’s nothing bad that could possibly happen and we can totally bring one of these guys home uh… if you two click?”

"Excuse me? At which point did we agree?”

"It doesn’t have to be permanent, these kinds of places do all sorts of trial runs, foster–”

"That’s just cruel.”

"Well, but it doesn’t have to be. I’m sure the little fella will love us and we’ll end up keeping them.”

"What if I don’t want to get attached to a creature with hardly a sixth of a human lifespan?”

"Did you want to uh, take a look at the cats since that’s more comfortable for you?

"Junpei.” None of this is comfortable.

"Okay, okay.” He puts his hands up in a mock gesture of surrender… before plunging into his pocket and pulling out his phone for some reason. ”… Here goes a last ditch effort…”

“What are you doing now?”

"Hey man, can you help me convince your sister of something?”

Before she can even begin to reprimand him he’s clicking his tongue and dialing up again. When Aoi picks up again she can hear even from the arm’s length she’s being kept at.

"Whatever this is about, what makes you think I could possibly be on your side instead of hers?!”

"I don’t! Just hear me out, okay- gimme a second.” He opens the video option in the call and turns the phone in her direction. He has a mildly confused look urging her to explain the situation but it’s a few moments until she says anything, because Junpei has a stupid grin on his face and they both know he might win this.

”…Junpei wants a pet. And we happened to walk into a kennel. Cattery–”

“Adoption fair.”

"And he’s being really stubborn.”

Takes a second for her brother to process the absolute nonanswer he comes up with.

"Oh.”

"Oh?”

"There are worse arguments you could be having out there.” Though Junpei wouldn’t be the one pulling him into those. "Guessing that wasn’t on your itinerary?”

"You think? Why am I not hearing you antagonize him anymore?”

"I mean, I think it could be good for you? You used to beg me for one all the time- until I said Santa couldn’t send animals in boxes with little holes poked in them for air like in the movies.”

She yanks the phone out of Junpei’s hand and turns off the video before putting it up to her ear, looking almost embarrassed.

"Aoi.”

"You’re right, you’re right– it’s a ton of responsibility. Wouldn’t be trying to convince you sis, I’m just saying–”

"You think that’s the part I’d take issue with??”

Akane takes off, pacing away from Junpei, wanting some distance at least if not privacy to continue one of the silliest sibling squabbles in recent memory. Which is completely fine by him, there’s plenty to do while she talks herself into it just to prove a point.

After a few minutes, Akane’s standing next to Junpei again. Turns off the phone and extends her arm out for him to take it without looking at him, pouty like a child while Junpei’s looking smug. This is like the first marital dispute he’s won.

”…Only if we come across one I feel is a good fit.”

“I’ll take that.”

Aoi and Light had recently gotten a cat of their own, though insistently not as a couple, Akane doesn’t really understand what her brother’s love life is like (and she’s grateful to be spared of the details) but they have something going on, why else would he move in with them after she decided to move in together with Junpei? Actually, she might have heard him mention that one of Clover’s coworkers found the little calico abandoned and she offered to take it in, so really it wasn’t even like it was his responsibility any more than the Field’s by a long shot but still… he was so happy over it, which used to be such a rare sight, that Akane found it hard to be a buzzkill about it by voicing what came to her mind.

In truth, it wasn’t just the rabbit hutch thing giving her pause. Aside from the obvious glaring reason for her to be hesitant to hold such a tiny creature in her arms, despite her love for them, she just didn’t think she knew how anymore. At this point she’s more used to stuffed animals, not that she kept many of those around either.

While they visited recently, she sat very stiltedly holding the feline in her lap, her brother went from gushing about it to joking about already having experience looking after a weird ‘kit cat’ his whole life. After she complained Junpei followed up on it by sneakily referring to her as ‘kitten’, just that once, and even if by some metric seeing them getting along was cute she’d have kicked them both if not for the purring fluff ball snoozing on top of her thighs. This was far more anxiety inducing than a plush, she noted, and it only became more evident each fleeting second, each motion coiling for breath she felt against her skin. It was so precious and so easy to ruin and her hands were too singed to hold it. The fact her body deeply rejects such simple gentleness despite it having come so easily to her once is a mourning unto itself.

Most of the cats they see around are cozily lazing about, some snuggling together, staring back at them curiously at most. She could genuinely smile at that. It’s calmer with none of them seeming in the mood for interaction at the moment. They slow their pace now that Akane is actually participating, the unexpected unexpectedness of the situation no longer weighing her down as much.

Though it was still a bit much, so they sat together by a bench for her to rest a little. It wasn’t far at all, it’s right behind one of the cat houses in fact just where it starts leading away from the event.

She’s so completely lost in thought that she’s surprised to hear a small high pitched gasp before even realizing it was a sound she herself had made. Then looking down at her leg she understands why.

A little black cat scratched at her leg, accidentally, it looked more like the tiny little fuzz ball was attempting to climb her leg. Well, technically not black, she notices the fur is a dark grayish color with tons of off-color patches when she gets a better look and she only gets that better look because it succeeds at its task. At which point she has to attempt to scoop the very tiny cat with both hands so it’s not at risk from falling back down. Only stopping its determined meowing when he settles on her lap.

"Why do they always choose you?”

"Because I don’t try chasing after them like they’re dogs, Junpei.”

"Hey, that’s not something I’ve done since I’ve grown up, okay? Well- except–”

"If you say I’m the exception, I swear–”

"Okay! So, where did this little fella come from?”

"I didn’t see…” She leans in and rubs behind the cat’s ears, earning a soft little purr of gratitude. The fur really is weirdly patched when you look close, it doesn’t feel like the coloration should be that way, the texture’s also a bit different. Wait, are the eyes not open yet? Or is one–

It isn’t long before an employee? Volunteer? A lady in a friendly colored vest comes to gently whisk away the culprit, she seems young and a bit anxious to have to talk to them.

"Oogh, I’m so sorry ma'am, are you okay? These little nails didn’t do a number on you, right?”

Akane gets on her feet to more steadily help the kitten trade hands.

“Oh, oh no, I’m perfectly fine. Really, I could barely feel it. Thank you.”

“That’s good.”

And that’s where the interaction would have ended if Junpei didn’t also get up.

"Hi, I’m with her. So, how come he’s popped up all the way over here?”

"You see this guy’s a little escape artist– every time there’s people around he tries to hide away from visitors by sneaking out into the desk with us, so… then why today did he decide to bother such a nice couple instead? What’s up with you?”

The cat is still trying to climb out back to where it was a minute ago, which the volunteer seems to know how to handle, though it’s funny to see it go from her arm to her shoulder then back to the other arm. A lot of effort is going into making sure he doesn’t throw himself on the ground. Junpei waits for a moment where the pace’s slowed down a bit to also try to pet him, seems to like him too.

“Aww, I think that’s a really good fit, actually. What’s his name?”

“Oh we don’t know actually, this friend was found without a nameplate. He’s made a name for himself but it’s not been that long at all since he’s been with us, we haven’t agreed on a name yet since he’s been back from the vet. Wait, did you say you two were interested?”

He looks at Akane for her to answer. She looks back with what doesn’t seem to be a look of aggression to the general onlooker, but they know he’s putting her on the spot like this so she won’t be backhanded about agreeing.

"Well, yes. If possible, I mean- isn’t the saying that the pet chooses the owner and not the other way around? We sure sound like we’ll get along, we both aren’t super sociable either–”

The awkward little laugh got to Junpei, who’s more comfortable with failing at humor in front of strangers than she is to even attempt it.

"He must have thought ‘oh these guys are off by themselves away from everyone too, we’ll get along great!’”

That’s just silly enough that she can look at him funny behind crossed arms and it’ll be an entirely appropriate reaction. She can only hope that’s the only thing that he sensed in them.

The kitten settled into a nap on the volunteer’s arms by now, tired himself out. Really is an adorable sight.

"That’s just great! One of you just has to come fill up a questionnaire at the table and a few more things, we can sort out real quick- uhm… I guess I should- oh right! So, like I was saying, this fella may come with extra expenses due to health complications, is that okay with you? Are you new pet owners?”

"The issue isn’t money…” “We are? New to it- kind of…”

“Oh, don’t worry too much. He’s all healthy now, neutered and the vaccinations all in order too, it’s just… it’s a little bit of a hard sell to some people since he needed stitches and lost an eye so he’s always going to be a bit wobblier than average when moving around.”

"A-ah… why is that?”

Akane’s hand suddenly has a vice grip on his. For once, the resolve in her voice is undeliberate, shaky.

"We don’t need to hear the story.” She turns away from the volunteer and her voice turns small so only her partner hears. “Can you go take care of all that? I’ll go get my brother to help get things in order before they go do a housecheck, if they’ll do one.”

"There’s not much there to cat proof I don’t think, but sure. Guess you’d- uh, have a better eye for that stuff… Also let me guess, you want me to tell you when that is happening so you can go to his place while there’s strangers over?” A smile confirms that. "Alright. But I’ll check in with Clover too to make sure you two aren’t skipping town instead.” Another smile, more mischievous this time.

"Oh no, my plan’s been found out.” First off, if she really intended on making an exit she wouldn’t bring it up to him first, duh, as if she were an amateur. Second, maybe this line of teasing can get far too draining, far too quick, so she changes the subject one last time. "Tell me your name ideas when I get back.”

She places a kiss on his cheek and saunters off. Does she wish she didn’t get shoved into bringing painful color back into a memory that had just barely grayed and numbed?

Yes.

But she wouldn’t have been convinced if she didn’t genuinely think they were capable of giving it a try. Maybe any place they stay at together will feel more like a home when there’s someone living there with them that isn’t walking on eggshells, that is just uncomplicatedly happy to have survived whatever it did before it ended up there. Maybe she’ll learn to do that as well. Things already are complicated enough.

#submission #junepei #999 #goggles-girl #mortellanarts #zecret santa 2023

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larathia · 1 year

Text

BSD Manga reread, ch’s 1-10

I’ll be kind and not spam and only post after I’ve reread 10 chapters at a go.

And I’ll use cuts, too. Cos this time THERE WILL BE PICTURES.

Chapter One

* My first thought here is ‘wow, Dazai’s manner of speech is different’. I’m...not sure I can quite place how, and it could of course just be a translator thing, but he sounds rather more refined here at the beginning of things than he generally does later. (I’m not saying he speaks crudely, just...he gives much more of an upper class impression here, somehow.)

And he reads. I didn’t notice this the first time around because - it’s a series about literary greats, no? So of course there should be reading? But on a reread, I’m finding myself going “wow, almost nobody is seen reading.”

* There are three things that happen here, that I think are why Dazai chooses to take Atsushi under his (and, collectively, the Agency’s) wing. Firstly, while alone and clearly afraid of everything up to and including literally his own shadow, Atsushi chooses to save the life of a stranger. (He couldn’t KNOW that Dazai would’ve rather have been left alone. Point is - the kid chose to be kind, in a city that - we are repeatedly told and shown - does not have much kindness in it.) Secondly, on saving someone’s life, and being offered a reward, and while obviously starving, he just asks for chazuke. Which we’re told is basically just a dish meant to clean rice out from a bowl. It’s apparently the equivalent of saving a well-to-do person’s life and asking for a PB&J. So now we have “kind and apparently humble”. And lastly, and this one seems to be the clincher, Atsushi tells Dazai his story in the warehouse and it’s clear that this boy has nothing to live for, and no one who’d be the slightest bit upset by his death...yet he chooses to live. WANTS to live. And even so, choosing to live and wanting to live, he has in no way ...well. Become a beast.

Contrast ALL of this with what we later learn about Dazai’s meeting with Akutagawa. And with what we later learn of Dazai’s own outlook and inclinations. Atsushi is practically Dazai’s diametric opposite...yet there’s no friction here. No competition, no judgment. Atsushi doesn’t even realize that he’s made a very quirky, and rather dangerous, friend. But because he DID, we have ...well, the whole story.

I would be remiss if I did not include probably the single most ignored bit of canon in this entire series.

The number of people who feel the deep-seated need to ignore or deny this one panel is really kind of amazing, when you get down to it. I just thought I’d mention that yes, Dazai being straight is, actually, canon. Chapter one, never actually recanted or disproved in the text canon. It’s important to remember what is canon and what is fanon. It prevents fandom-related insanity.

ANYWHO. MOVING ON.

Chapter 2

Atsushi’s entrance exam. On a reread, what mostly sticks out to me here is what Atsushi learns about Dazai.

Firstly, Atsushi learns that seriously, Dazai’s suicide attempts have completely numbed the Agency to even the idea Dazai might need help:

Secondly, Atsushi learns that Dazai is very much a trickster entity who might be your friend and might look out for your best interests, but has ZERO problem lying and/or putting you through the wringer in order to do so.

He definitely remembers both of these lessons later. It doesn’t hurt that he gets a lot of reminders.

Chapter 3

* Tanizaki is, genuinely, a pretty nice guy on average, and takes a non-mentorly kind of ‘take Atsushi under his wing’ approach. Sort of senior-but-equal.

* Ah, the famous ‘guess Dazai’s former job’ scene. Now, I get why Dazai wasn’t exactly free to admit it (given all the work the government did to cover up his past) but I feel, on reread, that the fandom should admit Kunikida totally had Dazai figured out. And absolutely deserves the financial reward.

Like, seriously. What we later learn is Kunikida was 100 percent right on both counts - Dazai just wasn’t free to admit it.

He promises he ‘won’t lie’. And...very technically, VERY VERY TECHNICALLY, he isn’t? I mean yes, ‘scoundrel’ covers pretty much the entire Mafia, and ‘shipping container’ would in most cases be considered synonymous with ‘homeless’, so I do feel Kunikida is right to claim the pot. But at the same time, “mafia don” is ...rather above and beyond mere ‘scoundrel’ and ‘capable of living in five star hotels but CHOOSING a shipping container’ is not what comes to mind when one says ‘homeless’. There’s a hell of a lot of nuance that lets Dazai’s assertion that he ‘won’t lie’ technically stand, while at the same time allowing Kunikida to be 100 percent right.

But at the base level I’m going to call this as “the only reason Dazai doesn’t admit to his past here is because at the time he probably couldn’t.” This little pot of betting money never comes up again, but I like to think that when Dazai does finally admit his Mafia connections to Kunikida later on, he hands over the pot as well. (Yes, yes, I know. Fanon vs Canon; this is a guess/hope.)

Canonically, what we as readers learn is yes - Dazai will lie. Context is required to understand why and to what degree, but yeah - Dazai will totally lie.

* And we’re introduced to Higuchi and Akutagawa. And Dazai’s tricks (again). This time it’s the headphones, listening to the transmitter he put in Higuchi’s pocket. And the lyrics to his ‘double suicide’ song, which I suppose we have to figure he just made up on the spot to ‘explain’ why he’s wearing headphones, since just saying “I’m listening to our client on the sly” would ...not come off well with Kunikida after that whole ‘drag Dazai into the closet for a beating’ thing.

* Tanizaki really is a pretty decent detective. And his ability is much better in combat than he thinks; it’s really only down to his Light Snow that everyone came out of their first encounter with Akutagawa alive.

Chapter 4

* Wow. Dazai really did come RIGHT over once the fighting started.

* And we learn that sweet, observant, polite Tanizaki has a really hard ‘cross this and die’ line; Fuck Thou Not With His Sister. Accompanied by impressive crazyface.

* This is also Akutagawa and Atsushi’s first fight. Given that Atsushi’s still reeling from a lot of revelations, he did pretty well.

* And now we, the readers, know that Kunikida was right; Dazai was a scoundrel. A professional and high ranking one. Even so, on reread, it’s this panel that sticks out as “whoa”.

Because while we learn in this chapter that Dazai is ex-Mafia, it’s much later that we learn just what his relationship with Akutagawa was. And how very, very much this single mocking sentence would cut Akutagawa.

Dazai gets a lot of information out of Aku here. But all his actual concern is for getting Atsushi, Junichiro, and Naomi back to base.

Chapter 5

Dude, you totally are. And I think it’s Kunikida’s state of “totally rattled” that really pushes Atsushi to think that the only thing he can do to protect the Agency is run away from it.

We’re then introduced to the Black Lizard, which upsells the whole ‘must run away’ idea, We’re given a brief introduction to Tachihara and Gin, which is at least useful to remember for later. And we realize that Higuchi hasn’t processed that Dazai is ex-Mafia. (Probably fair, since most people don’t seem to survive trying to be ex-Mafia.)

And Atsushi learns that he doesn’t have to ‘protect’ the ADA. They’re totally capable of protecting themselves, Kunikida’s case of nerves notwithstanding.

Chapter 6

Our introduction to Ranpo. (And Atsushi’s.) And all we get at first is the sheer awe that everyone holds Ranpo’s power in. And a hell of a lot of Atsushi’s “so done with you crazy people” face.

This is very much a ‘Dazai mentoring’ chapter; he’s the one advising Atsushi to watch closely, and he’s the one that pushes Atsushi to take action when the bad cop tries to use his gun on the group. (Dazai’s also apparently pleasantly surprised that Atsushi managed to handle that well, taking the officer down without killing or injuring him or anyone else...but yeah, Dazai’s probably still comparing Atsushi to Akutagawa here.) Dazai’s the one to show Atsushi that Ranpo isn’t using a supernatural skill, too, just his head - walking Atsushi through those details he himself can spot, as a kind of training session.

He really isn’t a bad mentor. But he’s very much a trickster mentor - Atsushi just has the weird luck to be mentored by this setting’s equivalent of Loki. He learns! Valuable lessons! Just...not exactly in an orthodox manner.

Chapter 7

I tend to focus on Dazai, because he’s a character you kind of HAVE to figure out from context (given he’s a trickster, and often, a deceiver), so ...bear with me a bit here.

The first note is the face he makes when Kyouka corners him:

We don’t know exactly why he makes this face at the time, because we don’t get a clear view of what ability Kyouka has...but realistically, this has to just be startlement that the Mafia Really Wants To Talk To Him Right Now. Because...Demon Snow cannot hurt Dazai; she’d be dispelled at the first touch. And ...frankly, Kyouka may be a skilled assassin but she’s 14 and very direct and in a straight up fight I’d put money on Dazai. So when Dazai’s accused of ‘letting himself be captured’...yeah, he totally LET himself be captured. There’s evidence enough to support that. (Now, ask me why Akutagawa SENT KYOUKA, when he knows damn well what Dazai’s skillset is, and I find myself thinking “Aku wanted to see if Dazai would kill her for him, didn’t he.” Akutagawa knows Dazai has no real problem murdering people. Dazai’s tried to kill Aku, after all.

And then we’re back at the Agency, and treated to a reminder that really, Atsushi is the only member of the ADA willing to accept even the idea that Dazai might actually be in trouble, or need/want help.

Sadly...Atsushi is also wrong - since Dazai DID let himself be captured, and DOES kinda have that whole situation under control...but the thing is, no one in the ADA really knows that, or even HAS a way to know that; they’re just (mostly) fed up with Dazai’s suicide attempts.

And it’s not that Atsushi necessarily disagrees with everyone’s assessment? He totally accepts that maybe Dazai did try to kill himself (again), or is in control of whatever situation he’s landed in. It’s just that Atsushi also accepts that he doesn’t KNOW that - and that, incidentally, he seems resolved to interfering with Dazai’s suicide attempts regardless - and so he’ll go anyway. Which makes him utterly unique in the entire BSD setting, when you think about it. Everyone else that has ever tried to keep Dazai alive, has done so for selfish reasons. Atsushi...just doesn’t want Dazai to die. He doesn’t have work for Dazai to do, doesn’t seem to need him for anything...he just doesn’t want Dazai to be dead. Which may be the only reason Dazai doesn’t ever get mad at Atsushi about it.

Atsushi also doesn’t have the slightest hint of self preservation. Which we’ve seen twice now; first with the fake bomb, second against Akutagawa, and now here - and Yosano snags him to go shopping.

For...lemons, among other things...

Given what happens later, I find the bag full of lemons just kind of ...on the nose.

Also. Let it be known that I adore and admire Yosano and this right here is absolutely why.

This woman owns my soul and you can’t get it back from her.

Yosano also wins points for being the first to realize that Atsushi’s power is a little more than just “turning into a big white kitty cat”.That Atsushi doesn’t just ‘heal’. Something more is going on.

This chapter does a lot to introduce Yosano and her basic outlook on life. She’s fearless, resolute, ruthless, and has zero patience for perverts and idiots. But she’s kind enough to Atsushi in her own way - willing, I suppose, to accept that he’s not stupid so much as he is ignorant of protocol.

Chapter 8

Still on the train.

We’re now given a proper introduction to Kyouka. Atsushi, here, has his little epiphany - if he can save other people, then he can justify his existence.

And because he has this epiphany - because he’s brought pain and misery to others due to circumstances beyond his control, but does not want to die - he’s able to push Kyouka into wanting to escape the dark too. Although, much like Atsushi’s first attempt was curling around what he thought was a live bomb, Kyouka jumps from the train.

And Yosano, man, I would just put every panel with Yosano on here if I could, because I adore her so very much in this chapter. Just picture me back in the stands, waving a ‘go yosano’ flag and cheering. She’s awesome. I love her.

Chapter 9

We open on a discussion of Kyouka, and Kunikida being...kind of an ass. Again. Because someone has to say the obvious and unpleasant truth, and that tends to be Kunikida’s job. And Atsushi ...probably doesn’t even realize that he takes a page from Dazai’s book here. It’s much easier to get information from someone who’s comfortable and at ease with you, than it is to beat information out of them. Atsushi saw that firsthand, when he was the interrogation subject back in chapter 1. But Atsushi doesn’t have Dazai’s leverage with Kunikida, and has to pick up the tab himself. And once more, Kunikida lays out the obvious, unpleasant truths.

(I feel like at this point someone should be asking, “If Kyouka’s so clearly condemned, and she’s only been with the Mafia a little while, how the fuck was Dazai able to just walk out?” - not that we get the answer to that for a LONG time...)

That isn’t the question that Atsushi asks, though. He asks a question much closer to the heart of his character:

And ...I want to say that I think this is actually a very central question, at the very heart of the series’ conflicts. Not about Dazai specifically, but why does anyone reach out to help anyone when there’s nothing in it for them to do so?

Look - we know, as of current time (all the chapters since this one, and all the LNs and spinoffs and all that) that the reason ‘why Dazai reached out’ was that this was something Oda asked Dazai to do with his dying breath. Look after orphans. Protect the weak. Why was Oda kind? Because Natsume was kind to Oda, and Oda’s paying it forward.

And why did Dazai heed Oda’s request? Because, ultimately, Oda was kind to him. Kind when it not only didn’t get Oda anything, it actually put Oda at risk and ultimately cost Oda his life. One person was kind to Dazai. They made one request, and that pushed Dazai forward.

And then in turn Dazai is kind to Atsushi. When it doesn’t benefit him to do so, and in fact incurs debt at first - hiding Atsushi from the police, getting him a place to stay, etc. It doesn’t benefit Dazai to do any of this, nor does he require any repayment from Atsushi for it.

Natsume was kind to Oda. Oda was kind to Dazai. Dazai is kind to Atsushi. And now Atsushi, in turn, wants to be kind to Kyouka.

So very much of this entire series pivots on a single chain of kindness.

And a hell of a lot of unkindness.

The story slips back to Dazai, chained to a wall, and being particularly chill about it. You can pretty much tell Akutagawa finds this utterly incomprehensible...but then, his power can’t hurt Dazai, and Dazai truly wouldn’t care even if it could. Dazai mocks Akutagawa...a LOT. And we find out now for certain that Dazai wasn’t just ‘ex mafia’. He’s an ex-mafia don, a leader, executive, and Aku’s former mentor.

And he is merciless. He rips right into any and all aspects of Akutagawa that might hurt Aku, anger him, upset him. You can practically see Dazai smashing little chisels into every one of Aku’s (many) braincracks. And then he adds the finisher, which will take all of Aku’s hurt and rage and aim it at Atsushi:

We know, from later chapters, why Dazai does this. He knows of old that Akutagawa is obsessed with proving himself, and that the only way Akutagawa knows of to do that is attack and defeat what he sees as his enemy. Dazai also knows that Atsushi has the potential to get through to Akutagawa - as well as survive Akutagawa’s power. He’s throwing these two at each other because both of them will learn just as much from each other as either ever could from him, and he’s well aware someone is yanking some strings in the background.

(And I’m pretty sure he really, really doesn’t want to have to deal with Chuuya.)

If Double Black isn’t going to handle whatever the new situation is, then a replacement team must be forged. Despite what Dazai tells Akutagawa here, we know from side media (the Mimic affair, specifically) that Dazai actually thinks well of Akutagawa’s powers. He just doesn’t think much of Akutagawa’s ability to learn to use it effectively.

The scene switches back to Atsushi, being kind to Kyouka. Which ends with Akutagawa kidnapping Kyouka and attacking Atsushi.

Kindness and unkindness. In this chapter, Dazai’s ultimately at fault for all of it.

Such a trickster. So very Loki.

Chapter 10

Junichiro is, again, the gentle/kind member after Atsushi. And Kunikida is, again, the one to lay out unpleasant facts, although this time Ranpo’s willing to help. The ADA are not really a team, at this point - they’re a collection of employees. There’s no expectation of anyone going out on a limb for anyone else.

Thankfully, Naomi - and Fukuzawa - aren’t gonna be having with any of that shit. That Fukuzawa - who’s had almost NO interaction with Atsushi - is willing to turn the whole Agency on its ear on Atsushi’s behalf...says a hell of a lot about the man’s integrity and sense of honor. This isn’t just a ‘collection of employees’, to him. They are his people. That’s how his ability works, how it can help them. “His people” may not yet be bonded with each other, but from Fukuzawa’s position, they are all connected to him. Once they are his, he will watch over them. Which gives us this gem:

And again, this is something that hits harder after you’ve read all the manga, and all the side stuff, and you realize what Fukuzawa is delivering here isn’t a counter-argument. It’s a very personal bitchslap, reminding Ranpo that Fukuzawa has stuck his neck out for Ranpo, especially in their early years working together, and that Ranpo denying aid to another because it isn’t “logical” is basically Ranpo saying that he didn’t deserve help either. There’s...seriously no way Ranpo’s even going to try making that argument.

And then we cut to Dazai’s little dungeon. I think it’s important to realize that the entire interaction was something Dazai expected - and staged. Much like his interaction with Akutagawa before, everything Dazai says or does with Chuuya in the room is designed to get a specific reaction out of Chuuya.

This is the truth - these panels just before Chuuya enters.

And this interaction truly is a work of art, because Chuuya may not be on Dazai’s level intelligence-wise, but he’s not actually stupid. He knows what Dazai is like - he just isn’t quick enough to avoid the traps. It’s like knowing a magician isn’t REALLY using magic, just sleight of hand, and maybe even knowing how one or two of the tricks work, but being absolutely fooled by all the others.

You’re not wrong, Chuuya. And frankly, your observations are just as valid for Dazai-now as they are for Dazai-in-the-mafia. But the minute you said “I don’t know what you’re planning”, you should’ve realized you’d already lost. Even Atsushi can pick up on that much.

The chapter ends with a lot of hustle and bustle at the ADA, and ultimately, Ranpo being nudged into giving the ADA directions. The rescue is on.

Next up will be chapters 11-20 :)

#bungou stray dogs #bsd analysis #larathia rereads bsd

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dude1818 · 2 years

Text

Final review of Nona the Ninth

I thought it was supremely adorable until it wasn’t, and that was a fantastic way to jump the stakes. (To be clear, Nona getting shot in the school isn’t when it stopped being adorable; her embarrassed “yuck” when Hot Sauce said she saw her brain splatter? Still adorable! No, it was the tantrum scene for me.)

The last few chapters wear where it fell apart for me. All of Nona’s story felt self-contained and satisfactory, but the tie back to the main plot of the series felt unnatural. A lot of things were happening on New Rho that went over Nona’s head (what’s Blood of Eden up to? Our narrator doesn’t care), and it’s understandable that big picture events were happening in the six month time skip (of course John had to reorganize the Cohort and his Lyctor crew), but the end of the book threw in a bunch of updates that didn’t feel earned by what had happened in the book.

The biggest offender was the surprise demon incursion when they returned to the Ninth House. GtN established the existence of these entities and that they can possess your body if you vacate your soul for too long, and there was a single line about how the Cohort was fighting “a bigger threat” on Antioch (a planet we never heard of before and will never see again) than Blood of Eden, but the Ninth House being overrun by them felt like a complete non sequitur. For one thing, they don’t do spirit magic, so there should be no in for the demons. (Unless the new shipment from John was contaminated? But that seems like a major stretch. Their souls were just in stasis.)

I’m also not a fan about what happened with Palamedes and Camilla. Paul seems well-adjusted and friendly, but they’re not Pal and Cam. Pal and Cam experienced ego death to form the new Lyctor. The previously two books seem to establish Lyctorhood as a bad thing, even John’s perfect Lyctorhood version, and they especially establish sacrificing yourself for another, even out of love, to be a terrible thing to do to the other person. The entirety of HtN is Gideon’s punishment for sacrificing herself to save Harrow. The only exception in the whole series is Palamedes, who can freely sacrifice himself for Camilla multiple times and it’s always framed as a good thing. I hoped this gets addressed in AtN.

I’m glad for the flashback sequences to establish what led up to the Resurrection. I know there was a lot of debate about whether John was the one who launched the nukes that ended the world or merely took advantage of it, so all the additional background about what led to that action is appreciated. The timeline is a little sus though. Not the detailed timeline, which we know John fudged a bit (like immediately changing the order he said the nukes were launched in to absolve his murder of Gideon Prime), but the whole “climate change is cause the complete extinction of humanity on a single day” thing. That feels more like an external threat (e.g. Project Hail Mary) than the way climate change is actually going to kill us.

That’s more of a “Muir isn’t a scientist” complaint, which I’ve definitely made before w.r.t. her descriptions of space travel (the shuttle from the Ninth House to the First House either needed FTL, or to travel at least 0.98c with time dilation). Narratively, I’m disappointed that it was revealed that necromancy was just actual magic all along. The first two books really established the series as being science fiction (even if it was the softest possible), so it’s a letdown that John was just gifted magic powers by Gaea and sent to Earth as a Jesus savior figure, rather than making an actual fringe science breakthrough and establishing necromancy as “real.”

Kiriona ... I think I need a separate post for that. It stresses me out.

I didn’t expect this review to be so long. There are a few points that I have strong opinions of, but overall I really did like the book. The cover promised that I would love Nona, and I 100% do. The biggest shame of all is that she won’t be around for the next book. Given how much I enjoyed the first 75% of this book, I think I would still rank it higher than HtN (although my opinion of HtN improved on my recent reread). Overall, NtN mostly suffered at the end when Muir had to hard-steer the story back in line to establish AtN.

#gideon the ninth #nona the ninth #the locked tomb #tlt #ntn spoilers #nona the ninth spoilers

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jaeheewillalwaysbemyfav · 3 years

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so since you're gonna do the avatar!mc au with the entities you think each brother would fear the most (SO excited for that btw, my friend can attest to the fact that i've basically been rambling about tma x om nonstop since the first post you made that put the two together), i'd love to hear your thoughts on which entity each brother would *be* an avatar of, if you're cool with sharing! personally i love the ideas of specifically vast!levi and dark!belphie but i'd love to hear your takes on the concept! <3

So because of how time works, despite receiving this ask on July 12, by the time you see this it’ll be August! So the entire Avatar!MC series should be out by now, which I hope you will/have enjoy/ed. I wholeheartedly agree with the concept of Vast! Levi, which I’ve talked about before (as you know ;) ), but I will happily ramble about it again!

These aren’t gonna be short fics though bc I do Yearn to save that energy for The Longfic, which is still in the planning stages because a) I can’t pick a timeline, and b) trying to match up the timelines of Obey Me and TMA is hard, especially when I tend to have a violent disrespect for actually paying attention to the timing of plot events in both. I already fucked up a part of the plotting because I forgot the order we get pacts with the brothers lmao

Content warnings: Mentions/allusions to tma-typical Spookies, yet another installation of my Cursed Crossover idea, lengthy debates about what makes someone choose to become an avatar of fear, spoilers for Lesson 16+ of Obey Me and S5 of TMA

What Entity Do I Think The Brothers Would Serve? (Cursed TMA x Obey Me Crossover)

Lucifer

So I put him as falling victim to the Eye/Beholding bc of his whole thing about Secrets and Pride being about wanting control over your own image

And he does have a creepy tendency in canon to always know when his brothers are up to some Dumb Shit

BUT! You know what we see in Lucifer’s character that we see in a certain Entity?

A simultaneous manipulation of others and submission to being manipulated by a higher power

That’s right, I think Luci would be a Web avatar

But Winter, Lucifer wouldn’t wanna take marching orders from someone/thing else! He’s too proud for that— You’re right! He doesn’t want to. But he will.

He willingly submitted himself and his family to Diavolo for eternity to get what he wanted (saving Lilith)

And from how much we see him work, it’s safe to say that he’s a pretty damn essential part of running the Devildom

If he really wanted to, he could probably successfully pull a coup on Diavolo

But he doesn’t, because he’s trapped himself by his own honour code

Thus, the sexual tension bromance we all know and love/insist is Deeply Problematic and blacklist (depending on how much you like/hate dialuci lol)

10/10, would fill with spiders again

Mammon

I put Mammon as falling victim to the Buried for pretty obvious reasons

But admittedly picking a fear he’d serve is trickier

I had to get a bit abstract with it, but I think the Hunt might suit him

Not necessarily the primal *cough* and police brutality *cough* parts of the Hunt tho

More like how Basira was considered an avatar of the Hunt in the fearpocalypse because of her mission/promise to Daisy

See, Greed can stem from fear

Fear of losing what you have, of no longer being able to support yourself, of being preyed upon by others

So people become greedy as a defense mechanism, to protect what they have

If they’re on the offensive, they won’t be targeted

Also, if you’re constantly pursuing more more more, there’s no time to think about anything else

Like consequences, or guilt, or Feelings

If Mammon let his little tough guy act go too far for too long, I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to say he could start heading down the path to avatarhood

After all, people pay big money for hitmen and bounty hunters…

Leviathan

As I said last time, I can see why people would associate Levi with the Lonely first: he’s a shut in, he acts like he wants nothing to do with people/would rather be alone, and I get it

BUT! All of that actually stems from the fact that Levi has terrible self-esteem and thinks he deserves to be this gross shut in loser

While envy can make you want to bring others down to your level, so to speak, Levi tends to just shun “normies”, not actively conspire to sabotage them

He actually does crave understanding and to have people in his life, he just doesn’t know how to go about it

Boy’s got Mega Social Anxiety is what I’m saying (funny how both the Lonely and the Eye can be real bad for that, huh)

But the Vast? Nihilism? Takes all the pressure off

If everyone is a small, insignificant speck in the face of an uncaring, unfathomably large cosmos, who cares what you do? Who cares what people think of you?

Yeah, you’d be kinda weird too if you stared into the infinite abyss of the ocean and realized it was just the maw of a gargantuan sea monster too, Karen, lay off

Plus aesthetically, the great Awful Deep most people fear in the ocean is a comfort to Levi

And again, THE VAST IS MORE THAN JUST THE SKY

I WENT ON A BOAT ONCE

LIKE REAL FAR OUT, SO I COULDN’T SEE LAND FOR DAYS

IT WAS JUST ENDLESS B L U E

AND I WAS ON A CRUISE IN THE CARIBBEAN

I SAW A FRACTION OF THE OCEAN’S S U R F A C E AND IT WAS I M M E N S E

Did you know we’ve only explored like 5% or whatever of our oceans? Think about that! Every Single Thing we know about what’s in there is just the tip of the iceberg!!! GOD KNOWS WHAT’S DOWN THERE!!! PROBABLY FUCKED UP FISH IS WHAT

*ahem* anyway, fishee

Satan

Another tricky boi

I marked him down as fearing the Desolation, as a reflection of what he fears most in himself

I probably could have also gone with Slaughter, but I’d say that’s more baby/early-Satan

Desolation is also about destruction of potential, and Satan has very carefully built himself into a non-rage-monster person

So tearing that all away from him is :)))

But what would Satan give himself over to?

Ceaseless Watcher, I want that twink OBLITERATED—

Satan clings to knowledge and erudition to distance himself from the rage he was born as

“Watch and learn” is literally how he became a person

I find it deeply funny that it could also easily be how he becomes a monster once again

Also if you think the avatar of Wrath wouldn’t have a use for supernatural blackmail you’re just straight up incorrect

Couple that with Satan’s various connections and he’d be a Force to Reckon With

Asmodeus

I put him as a victim of the Corruption bc I found it extremely fitting considering the duality of his romanticized image vs the “dirty” fluid-filled nature of Lust.

Lust can be really nasty, but as licentious as Asmo’s supposed to be, he’s surprisingly coy

(now part of that comes from the fact that Obey Me isn’t strictly 18+/full-on porn, but still)

There’s a lot of Interesting Ideas to unpack there with attitudes towards sex vs sensuality and idealisation vs reality

Now as for an avatar… I debated this for a very long time, tossing around Eye, Stranger, Spiral, even Web for like one second

But I think I’ve got it

Slaughter!

Specifically the musical/random outbursts of violence side (not so much the war side)

Why? Well for one, Biblical Asmodeus is said to “"transport men into fits of madness and desire [...] with the result that they commit sin, and fall into murderous deeds (Testament of Solomon, verse 23).”

But also, Obey Me Asmo’s affair with that portrait chick from the earlier lessons started a whole ass war

Like it or not, the boy is very good at instilling manic violence in people

They don’t call it bloodlust for nothing

Beelzebub

I paired Beel with an End avatar MC bc the boy fears losing his loved ones like he lost Lilith

You could argue that Desolation would fit there too but I liked how it fit Satan better

Now as for a Vibe…

I’m tied between Flesh and Corruption tbh

Though corruption is mostly bc buge :)

So I’ll talk about the Flesh

So uh, mass consumerism, meat is meat, cannibalism… see where I’m going?

Ignoring the Hans because that was super racist, the two Flesh avatars I remember best are Jared Hopworth and The Guy Who Stuck His Arm in a Spooky Meat Grinder To Feed His Buds

I think of Jared in relation to Beel not because of the gym thing, but because his very chill/apathetic attitude towards his patron is similar to how I’d picture Beel’s approach to all this

Like “well, guess I’m here now”

I love Beel as much as everyone else, but he’s not exactly apologetic about his… habits

Not to the degree that he’d actually try and change them anyway

So if he got started on the path to Flesh avatarhood, he’d be pretty fucked

Belphegor

I put Web for him as a fear almost entirely because of the concept of Uno Reverse Card, ngl

It does technically tie into his whole thing about being trapped in the attic, since he’d denied all agency and freedom in there, but… Uno Reverse

Dark!Belphie is an interesting concept, and MAG86 “Tucked In” is iconic, but tbh I don’t really… Get the Dark

Don’t get me wrong, put me in a dark place and I will be scared, I don’t like not seeing things, but I have a hard time wrapping my head around why one would become an avatar of the Dark

It’s not a very “primary” fear imo? Like, I’m scared of the dark bc I can’t see what’s there, ie. a threat could be there and I wouldn’t know, but intellectually I know it’s just the absence of light. That’s not really spooky on its own.

I guess what I’m saying is I can attribute spookier things related to the Dark better to other Entities, so I’m not sure what its draw is specifically

According to the Entity Sexiness Survey I did a while back, there’s apparently some Catholic stuff going on with the Dark so maybe that’s why i don’t get it lmao

Anyway I’d put Belphie down for Spiral

“What lies behind a smile” indeed cowboy

Apparently it’s getting choked

Is it because MC’s entire relationship with him is originally founded on a lie?

Is it because the Spiral deals with distortions in your perception, gaslighting gatekeeping girlbossing, as well as foggy liminal mental spaces like between sleep and consciousness, death and life?

Is it because I think Belphie would absolutely delight in driving someone bananas by fucking with their dreams until it bleeds into their waking life?

Is it because being a person or consistent being at all is too much effort, consistent internal geography is hard, fuck it, just be an endless twisting series of hallways?

Yes :)

#obey me #tma #cursed tma x om crossover #obey me headcanons #tma the entities #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor

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im-totally-not-an-alien · 3 years

Text

Final Fantasy 7 prompts # 73

1. Puppet! Cloud drops out from a random vortex after his master was defeated. Where did he land?

On Sephiroths office desk in Shinra tower of course. Sephiroth poked him with his pen a few times before Cloud woke up.

"Master!" The blond exclaimed as he wrapped the larger man in a hug. Of course. Of freaking course, thats when Genesis barged in with a stack of paperwork tucked under his arm, (not even bothering to knock mind you!) "Ugh, Seph, you are not going to believe-" the redclad figure stopped in his tracks.

"...this isn't what is looks like."

Genesis wiggled his eyebrows suggestivly, "Sure it isn't." And he was back out in the hall without another word. The soft click the door gave seemed much too loud in the silence and only seemed to add to Sephiroths humiliation.

Thus began Cloud following around his "Master" wherever he went while Sephiroth and the SOLDIERS/Turks did everything in their power to stop him, only to fail hilariously or get beaten up by the (comparatively) petite blond for thier efforts

2. The Holy Trinity encounter Winged! Cloud from the future or a parallel dimention or something and instead of viewing him as a monster they think he's an actual angel and treat him accordingly.

3. Cloud had just finished burying a dead chocobo (may she rest in peace) he had found when he heard a twig snap from behind him.

He reached for Tsurugis handle only to pause when he saw a bright yellow ball of plumage peek out from behind a tree. The blond let out a small laugh. That was by far the fluffiest chick he had ever seen, hells, it was a perfect circle/

Cloud reached down and picked up the baby, "Hello there, are you lost?"

"Kweh!" The little circle cried out and Cloud was quickly surrounded by three other chicks, all wild and overly fluffy. He absently wondered if this was a new breed while they preceeded to peck at him with little effect. He just scooped them up and drove them to Bills place after a ruddementry search of the nearby area.

That was the end of it.

Until he woke up the next morning with three of the chicks sleeping on top of him. The blond was baffled and got up to search for the fourth, only to find it perched on Denzels head, shifting its balance as to not fall whenever Denzel began nodding off, threatening to fall asleep and plant his face in his breakfast.

If Cloud took a picture-or a dozen-no one would have to know

4. A mysterious ailment has been effecting all the creatures Hojo created using Jenovas cells causing them to run amok. With Cloud missing and AVALANCHE busy dealing with rampaging monsters, Denzel and Marlene sneak off to search for the missing blond, but will they find him in time? Or will Cloud be in the same state as the others?

5. Reno found Cloud at a mall in some nowhere town dressed as a girl. He was originally planning to use this as blackmail material before Cloud came out to him as trans.

Now Reno goes out with him and helps him keep his cover...while disguised of course. Wouldn't want anyone to recognize him and- by extention- Cloud.

Besides, if anyone did recognize them, Cloud had full permission to blame Reno and let him take the fall for it.

6. The SOLDIERS apparently had a "Chocobo protection squad" when Cloud was a trooper. He had no idea why Reeve had insisted he read this annoyingly thick file on it until he realized half way through the first page that it was about him

He was the "precious cutie chocobo that must be protected from the evils of the world"

Cloud wanted to burn it on principle...but was too curious to stop reading. Apparently most of the members were still alive and it seems he owes them a great deal, so maybe he should take Teef and the kids to visit some of them. Maybe bring gift baskets...

7. Cloud cursed as he stepped on the edge of his cloak, sending him tumbling down from the path and deeper into the cavern.

Cloud picked himself up from the ground, grateful his goggles kept any of the dirt and debris from entering his eyes.

He heard something from behind him and whirled around to slash at them with his dagger...except there was no one there.

Poink

Oh no. He looked down at the little creatures, wearing cloaks much like his own, only brown instead of the worn black fabric the professor gave them. The blond looked down sadly at the number tattooed on the back of his hand.

Guess I won't be going to the Reunion after all. Shame. Mother had said Zack would be there as a guest and he really wanted to see him again.

Poink!

One of the little creatures- Tonberry- mother supplied - was clutching the edge of his cloak and attempting to lead him somewhere.

Did...did this creature think himself one of them?!

Aka Numbered! Cloud! gets adopted by Tonberrys

8. Hojo waking up strapped to one of his own tables with Cloud and Sephiroth standing over him, grinning like mad men.

9. Au where Sephiroth escaped as a child and fled into the wild and was eventually taken in by the "dead" professor Gast and his wife Iflana

He was "never found" by the Turks and eventually grew up to be a bad ass vigilante.

Cloud shared a similar fate but kept running instead of being taken in, eventually becoming a vagabond until the fateful day when their paths crossed and the pull of Reunion drew them together

10. Enraged blue eyes locked on to the blond. It may have been nearly a thousand years since Shinra fell, but he would know that man anywhere.

Not just anyone could have destroyed a corporate entity as powerful as Shinra and in the span of a single month no less! But he didn't care much about that, oh no.

He cared about the fact that this lovely creature killed him and his fellow firsts and then had the audacity to just disappear into the sands of time, stripping materia of its power and somehow causing Gaias mako to sink deep beneath the soil, never to be seen by mere mortals again. After it did, monsters began appearing less and less frequently, until they stopped appearing at all.

With Shinra so thoroughly destroyed and no other sustainable power available, information and records deteriorated, leaving Shinras history spotty at best and non existent at worse (probably didn'thelp that records seemed to conveniently disappear). Now Shinra, monsters and magic are all considered fairytales from a bygone era.

He and the others occasionally visit the lake that was once the city of Midgar to light candles in honor of all they had lost. Like hell he was going to let the blond escape again. Genesis opened his phone and made a call, "Seph, I found him."

11. Cloud meeting Female Sephiroth. Shes rather impressed that he's completely unaffected by the boob window. It had been the death of many men before him, that was for certain.

Too bad he wants to kill her, she has a feeling she would have liked having him around. Maybe she'd introduce him to Angel's puppy? She had the peculiar ability to befriend everyone she met

12. Time traveler Sephiroth saves time traveler Cloud from the labs with Genesis and Angeal.

Cloud is wondering why Sephiroth saved him and what he's planning.

Meanwhile, Gen and Geal are freaking out and asking annoyingly sane questions, like "Who is this guy?", "Why do you seem to know him so well?", and my personal favorite "Why is there a man being held captive in the labs?!"

13. Lab Experiment Cloud au where teenager Cloud barrels into Sephiroth in the middle of escaping the tower and asks if Sephiroth is his dad.

Sephiroth stops functioning and he just stands there frozen in a full battle stance while Genesis fights and subsequently captures the teenager, who he then promptly kidnaps.

*later*

Sephiroth bursts into the labs and confronts Hojo, asking if he was a father.

Hojo laughs and says "Of course you are! Do you have any idea how many creatures I've spawned with your DNA?"

Cue Sephs mental breakdown and Genesis's rampage on behalf of his friend.

Angeal does his part by babysitting with some office secretaries

Aka: the trinity raising a broody teen

14. Post OG Nebilheim is super duper haunted and Yuffie is NOT okay with that.

Cloud is even less okay and they talk about it while sitting on the roof of Clouds abandoned house...well, the fake one anyway

15. Everyone gets therapy but its from the perspective of a therapist who is %1000 done with Hojo

Bonus: This is actually questions posed by a friend and it helped spawn number 10.

What would Shinra do if Mako where to suddenly disappear? How would that even happen?

Bonus Bonus: What would be the quickest/ most brutal way to take down Shinra and/or SOLDIER? How would the Firsts feel about being completely owned by a stranger who appeared out of nowhere? (This was also my thinking about 10)

Announcement: Due to lack of interest, list #75 will be the final one. Thank you for reading my ideas. It made me super happy!

#tumblr prompt #ff7 #ffvii #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley

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slashedthroughtheheart · 3 years

Text

Patched up with the doc

'For a request, would it be okay if I asked for Herman taking care of a reader who got injured outside of a trial? I do kind of want it to be an angsty moment at first, but it just turns into fluff and comfort. I don't want smut or anything. Just Herman being a gentleman and showing the reader his affectionate, caring side. They both might not admit it at first, but they really like each other and always wanna be extremely close; Hugs and cuddles.'

This was the prompt, and here's what I went with! Enjoy a bit shorter of a fic featuring our good doctor, Herman Carter, taking care of a slightly belligerent reader!

It was just like any other day. You’d gone to the saloon in Glenvale with a few other survivors to just hang out. You couldn’t remember what you went out onto the upper deck wrapping around the saloon for, but you were cursing yourself for it now.

It was humiliating to be dangling with one leg partway through the broken floorboard. Whatever reason you had for coming out here was not worth it as you tried to pull yourself back up without further hurting yourself.

You weren’t having much luck, low curses leaving you as you prayed no one would come out to check on you. The last thing you needed was any of the other survivors, or entity forbid, any of the killers, to see you in such a pathetic position.

Being clumsy and mucking up a gen or two was bound to happen. Not making it to a pallet in time, no big deal. But something this pitiful was not something you wanted anyone to know about or see. You would never live it down.

You could picture the laughing stock you’d become if people caught wind that you literally fell through the floor and hurt yourself. You fell from greater heights during trials and had no problem rolling through it on the balls of your feet. Hell, there was that place in the Gideon meat plant that was way higher than the saloon and you’d never had trouble with that.

One last growl of frustration left you before a sharp intake of pain left you holding still after you definitely stabbed yourself on part of the broken board.

A barely audible whimper followed not soon after, the splintering wood jabbing at your torn skin. You could feel the blood dripping down your shin from where you had scraped yourself up, and from the fresh stabbing from trying to free yourself.

And just as you were going to try to move a different way, you heard the footsteps make creaks from somewhere behind you.

This was the worst case scenario, you could hear it was someone heavier than any of the survivors that had come with you. There’s no way Feng’s or Meg’s footsteps would be that loud.

Dread filled your heart as you whipped your head around, grimacing as your shift made the wood dig into you again.

And the eyes that landed on you lit up green when they saw the position you were in, awkwardly hunched onto the deck, obvious pain on your face and one leg dangling at just above the knee into the broken hole.

“Here, let me help you, my dear.”

Herman took purposeful steps towards you, intent on helping you free yourself and seeing to your wounds he caught the slightest glimpse of when you shifted in place.

“NO!”

He stopped, shocked at your sudden outburst.

You held an almost trembling hand up, as if that would keep him at bay. And it did, for a moment.

“I-I’m fine. I can do it myself. I don’t need any help, I’ll be fine.”

And as if the universe was amused in your suffering, when you tried to lift yourself once more from the jagged hole, a piece of wood lodged deeper into the beginning of your thigh, causing you to gasp out and almost choke on your pain.

“You don’t seem fine, y/n. Please let me at least assist you in getting out, I insist.” He’d moved forward a few steps, approaching slower, and eyeing the floorboards cautiously now.

You struggled again, throwing the same hand back up as you grit your teeth.

“I said no! I don’t want your help!” The tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes, stinging like you’d just cut up onions. Your nose burned as you held them in. The pain and humiliation leaving you a mortified and stubborn mess.

He hadn’t stopped in his approach, moving to the side and gently touching your arm with his hand, rubbing a small soothing circle on your shoulder.

“While any other time you saying no I would listen, I really must insist. You have injured yourself quite seriously, and are having a difficult time freeing yourself. I’ll get you up and out of that, and then we can head to Lérys and get you cleaned up. You’re sure to have splinters, and those are nearly impossible to remove on ones own, especially at the angle you’ve got them at.”

He sounded so matter-of-fact that you couldn’t even argue further, just holding in the tears and trying desperately not to sniffle and sound even more pitiful than you were sure you looked.

You tried to reason with yourself that at least it was Herman to find you and not someone like Danny or Frank. They would have probably laughed at you and gotten everyone else to come out and point and laugh with them.

You tried not to break down into tears of frustration as Herman moved around to your front, being careful of where he stepped and testing out the weight first before fully committing to the step.

He bent over, taking a moment to observer where the most damage was that he could see, the front of you leg just above the knee.

He simply hummed out in acknowledgment as he saw a rather large sliver of wood having made its home in your thigh, looking rather painful.

“Alright, I’m going to move you back just a bit and then lift you straight up. You might bump into the boards, but I’ll be able to get you up and standing just fine.” His hands moved to under your arms, taking care with his grip so as not to cause you any further discomfort.

At this point, you mutely accepted defeat, simply letting him take the lead as he adjusted you minutely before finally lifting you up, your leg not even brushing against the boards.

You felt even more miserable as you realized just how easily he’d gotten you out versus your own painful struggling that ended up with you hurting yourself more than doing any helping.

Once he had you out of the hole, you’d expected him to set you down on your own feet, but you were not expecting him to only rest you on them for a moment only to lean down to scoop you into his arms, injured leg on the outside.

At your bewildered look, he smiled gently. “Can’t have you walking with your leg like that, and Lérys is a bit of a walk.”

You wanted to protest, but at the same time you were getting your first good look at your leg, and maybe you really should just let him help you patch it up.

You weren’t even sure if Claudette could truly help fixing it up at this point.

So instead of fighting him on it, you nodded numbly, withdrawing into yourself so you wouldn’t give into the urge to start bawling like you’d been struggling with the whole time.

He went down the back steps, avoiding alerting any of the others to your condition, having noted that you were not in the mood to have anyone see you like this. You hadn’t even wanted him to help you, going so far as to try to pull yourself up and hurting yourself further.

No words passed between the two of you as he made his way towards Lérys, avoiding anyone else that you might have gone by with ease.

The relief you felt when he finally crossed the threshold into his realm was visible, pulling a very soft chuckle from him. It was nothing like his usual laughter. This laugh held a gentle mirth in it, a light but non-judgemental amusement.

“Rest assured, y/n. Your dignity is safe with me.” His thumb rubbed a small but soothing circle on the arm it was pressed against as he finally made his way into the building of the hospital, making a beeline for the closest room with the right equipment in it he’d need.

After carefully placing you on the hospital bed inside the room, he immediately went about gather the supplies he would need onto a rolling tray.

It did not take him much time at all to ready everything. There was a bottle of antiseptic, two pairs of tweezers, one big and one small, some gauze, a needle and some suture thread. It seemed you’d be getting stitches today.

At least these would be in a sterile environment with steady hands, unlike the ones you received during trials.

A meek “Thank you.” barely made it past your lips, your gaze staring at the gashes in your shin and the bit of wood protruding from your thigh.

Herman looked up from his readying of items, a soft smile gracing his features.

“It is not a problem, y/n. You were in distress, and I am more than happy to help.” He reached out, patting your uninjured leg for a moment before returning to the task at hand.

At his touch, you felt a warmth blossom in your chest, but you didn’t want to think about that right now. So you instead locked your gaze on your leg as he started meticulously cleaning your wounds and removing all the splinters you’d managed to get.

After the first touch sent near white hot pain through your body, you’d decided it was probably best not to watch so you laid yourself back, staring instead the ceiling as you balled your fists in an attempt to stay as still as possible.

Thankfully, the good doctor was precise in his movements and had you sufficiently patched up in seemingly no time at all. Considering the amount of damage, having to sit still for 20 minutes really hadn’t been that bad.

You let out a shaky breath in response to his question of how you were doing, still trying to hold your tears that had never left you in.

The weight of his palm against your upper arm startled you into opening your eyes and looking up at the now blue eyes of the doctor.

“It is okay, y/n. It’s understandable that this kind of injury is quite painful, especially considering the entity will likely not heal it until your next trial.” There was understanding in his face, a tenderness you’d never seen on him before.

It was foreign, but not unwelcome. You still felt plenty embarrassed by your situation, but the voice inside your head happily reminded you that it could have been worse.

Although, at the gentle press of his hand, the dam that had been holding back your emotions finally burst.

Hot tears trickled out the sides of your eyes to disappear into your hair behind your ears, the sensation feeling strange and only adding to your already frazzled nerves.

You sniffed once, twice, then let out a small but frustrated sounding whimper as your hands came up to rub almost viciously against your eyes.

Why of all times to loose your cool was it in front of a killer? Granted, he’d helped you and had never treated you poorly outside of trials, but this was beyond mortifying.

Your outburst didn’t phase him, knowing that the survivors already had a stressful enough existence with the trials and not having their own places unlike the killers. Living in a makeshift tent with just the campfire to keep the place lit up wasn’t easy for any of them.

He moved his hand to the top of your head, gently running his hand down it a few times, effectively petting your hair while he let you cry it out.

You instinctively turned into the touch, your body curling in on it’s side while you reached out blinding to grab the hem of his shirt while you tried your hardest to cry quietly.

Content with just letting you take your time, he continued the gentle petting of your hair, taking a small step closer so your arm wasn’t so outstretched.

A low hum left him, intent on soothing you in any way he could.

He’d been a bit off put by your almost venomous refusal of his help at first, but looking down at you as you slowly stopped crying, the hiccups starting and seeing you scrub your sleeve at your face to try and wipe away the tears there.

His other hand moved to stop you from rubbing your face anymore, offering you the pocket square he always had one him.

“No need to dirty your clothes when this is here. It is what it was meant for, after all.”

His encouraging smile was enough to have you taking it with no resistance.

And after you’d dried your face and blown your nose, he helped you sit up, hand lingering at your arms for a moment before he tilted his head.

“I know this is rather unorthodox, but would you like a hug? I believe it would benefit you, and to be completely honest, I wished to comfort you so this whole time.” His eyes were a gentle white now, as he waited patiently for your response.

A light blush took over your face, trying not to feel any smaller than you already felt.

Turning your face away before giving a small nod had him smiling at your own bashfulness.

And that’s how the first hug you’d received after coming to the entity’s realm happened. And there was many more to be had with the doctor, as you had been quick to find out.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad accepting help sometimes.

#Herman Carter x reader #Herman Carter #Dead by Daylight fluff #Dead by Daylight #sft #fluff #request #my writing

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loki-zen · 3 years

Text

A non-exhaustive list of things that tend to make me stop following people, in no way intended as instructions on how you should live your life.

Regular and repeated posting or reblogging of:

donation posts (I can’t afford the to help you all or the emotional investment to read them given that that is the case, and if I read it and can’t give money I’ll definitely feel like I should reblog it, and I don’t want to put my followers in this same position! so I just skip past and try to avoid them where possible.)

posts that insist that readers (or readers of certain demographics) must reblog or which otherwise attempt to guilt or shame readers into interaction

posts which are casually defamatory of any broad demographic group, especially one I belong to or could not easily be distinguished from. this includes groups like ‘white people’ or ‘cis women’ or ‘white women’, not just Officially Marginalised Groups. One day on tumblr I decided that the mandate to Listen to POC Voices did not actually oblige me to have a dash at the site I go to for fun and to relax which regularly referred to people falling within my visual race categorisation as literally Satan, and I endorse this decision and will apply it to other things. People are not obliged to sit back and take nationalistic hate - not of the format that blames them for the actions of their government and/or ancestors, and not of the format that is simply ‘justified’ by the above having done bad things. It’s not funny or cute for USians to rag on anyone for Imperialism. It’s not funny or cute for Americans to tag on most nationalities, frankly - picture it as kids in the playground and you’ll see why it’s not cute for the biggest, richest kid to do this.

Very long discourse threads with no readmores, especially the same one multiple times (I know, I know - I do this one.)

Anything at all at such frenetic pace that it swamps my dash

things that squick me out like graphic descriptions of human faeces or sincere sexual/kinky use of ‘Daddy’

This is a random collecting-together of thoughts, and very much not, say, a DNI. As I’ve said before there are lots of people I consider ‘mutuals’ who I technically don’t follow, for the above reasons or others. (Easier to be primed for this stuff if I just read someone’s tumblr every once in a while rather than have it on my dash.)

I also just cycle the dash every so often depending on how long I want it to be right now, so I might literally unfollow you because I’m busy. I am mildly sorry that my social signals are all over the place but also kinda not because it’s as a result of making the website usable for me.

Edit: in case it needed to be said, the ‘nationalistic hate’ thing is not about Israel, and for the most part I don’t consider the criticism I’ve seen thereof to count as the thing I mean. (It I suppose kinda borders on it maybe in as much as often talking about ‘Israel’ doing this and that, but while that does pattern-match to some of my ‘talking about a country like it’s a collective entity whose actions the citizenry at large have direct input into and responsibility for’ twitches, especially in this sort of emerging situation I think objecting to that would run up against my other heuristic, ‘where possible do not be perverse/uncharitable in your interpretation of people who are talking normally rather than As Precisely As Possible.’

#i don't know how to tumblr

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jewishfem · 4 years

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do you know any ways that alleviate dysphoria without transitioning? i kinda just woke up from my trans nightmare. i'm female if ur wondering. if you don't know, could you redirect me to a blog that does?

Hey anon, so, i had written down my own advice, and also asked my friends, many of whom are detrans and have suffered from dysphoria.

But first I want to say that I'm glad you woke up. It's hard to leave and change a mindset that felt right with our feelings even if not with our common sense.

Forst are my friends' advices. I'm copying it as they are, without paraphrasing (only certain replacement, [like this]. My own advice is below my friends', as i believe theirs to be more experienced.

Without further ado, here are all the advices:

——

— Hello!

It's been a LONG time since I've experienced dysphoria(I detransitioned).

It feels like your mind doesn't belong in the current body you're in and that you want to just rip [your] skin off. (Mental health issue)

For me, I wished I could just close my eyes and never wake up. Or be "reborn" a male instead of female and just some...other thoughts along the lines.

How did I "get over it"?

I...guess I surrounded myself with more positive influences. I grew up in an abusive household that held sexist views. When I left, I could think clearly for myself.

I suppose my suggestion for her would be to try and find some positive influences(ex. Could be as simple as hangout out with loved ones, finding role models,etc) in her life and think critically(ex. "Why would you feel better if you transitioned to male?")

I realized I wanted to transition to escape my life...and also because I had internalise misogyny to where I did not think I was "allowed" to do certain things because I was born a female...

— Something to have her consider is that what she likes, and who she is doesn’t change what she is. She is female. A woman. A girl. Zero percent of her outside world or her mind can impact this. I hear a lot of young women trans [recte transition] because they feel like they enjoy masculine things. Well, if a woman does it it’s a women’s thing. Gender tells us women should only pursue and enjoy certain things and not others. This is just simply, False with a capital F.

Another help is recognizing that the way porn and indeed most media presents women to the world is also False. That is not what and how sex is. You don’t have to like it or accept it to be a woman. It is at odds with womanhood.

To reconnect and learn to love your body and accept it, a trick I learned a long time back is to focus on what your body does for you. Rather than how it looks while it does it.

Look at your bones and muscles working together so you can walk and stand and pick things up. Dance. Run. Your throat and lungs do this cool thing where you can speak. Sing. Your heart, keeps your body supplied with nutrients from your digestive system. Digestive system all on its own without any prompting, turns food into fuel for this amazing robot suit that is your body. Brain can interpret every single impulse from every nerve in your body. In real time. It allows you to connect with the outside world and experience it. But you also get to control it. Meditation, therapy exercises, physical exercise, these things have an impact on your brain. And you choose to do them.

Your body and your experience in it is really remarkable.

Thighs aren’t fat. They’re strong for carrying you around. Arms aren’t skinny. They are perfect for hugging loved ones. Eyes aren’t too small, they allow you to see the world around you. Focusing on what the body does takes that focus away from what it doesn’t look like. Breasts? Nourish new life in a way nothing else can. Don’t want children. That’s ok. Just recognize what your breasts can do. They don’t have to do it. Uterus and ovaries? Literally creates a human life from two single cells. You have the power of creation in side you. Whether you use it or not. Period? This amazing way your body protects itself from non viable pregnancies and keeps your body safe. Periods are the ultimate cleanse. And your body does it for you. All on its own.

These are the thoughts that help me deal with having a female body and accepting it.

— The thing that helped me most was radical body acceptance. Just 'this is me and I accept that I am the way I am'. Idk how effective it would be for that individual but it was foundational for me overcoming my dysphoria

====

My advice:

~ it's sometimes impossible to look at the mirror. The body feels bad and ugly and overall just wrong. But it's ours. It's ours to keep, and not to destroy. Expose yourself to yourself gradually. Especially the parts that make you at most unease. Treat it like a phobia, or some forms of allergies. Gradual exposure can help. First, love the parts you can't see — your heart, your lungs, dammit, tell your tendons you love them (!) because they're part of you.

Slowly reach parts you feel most dysphoric about. You'll already know how to love your other parts. Your hands that let you touch loved ones, hold them, rub a cute cat or dog. Your mouth and your stomach that tear apart these nutrients into the most basic units. Your skin that protects you and that lets you feel sunlight and raindrops. And then, when you know how to love these more or less basic parts of you, reach the complex ones. You don't need reasons at some point, but you have the love to give and it's enough. You don't need any reason besides it's yours.

~ i suffered (and still sometimes relapse) from body dysmorphia, and well, music and self reminders helped me a lot. I drew on my skin with pens and sharpies, soccer teams logos, random lyrics. My reminder to myself, before i started giving myself good reminders was "don't fear death"" but to not fear death,,, i needed no more reminders of that. then I realized, i can remind myself more important things, of better things. Birthdays, my favorite teams' wins, my most hated teams' worst losses. Then it went to 1238 "grammar teacher said something grammatically wrong", "x mathematical axiom", drew emojis and flowers. I did so to remind me to smile, to breath clean air (as clean as possible at least). At this time of self isolation, you can leave the notes at your house. Sticky note with "the only parabola that matters is the smile" or some other body positive puns. Dysphoria is a different hatred of your body, but all self hatred can be fought with self love.

~ a feeling I still feel a lot is hat i don't deserve to live, i only take too much space. It's what brought me so quickly into dysmorphia. Try to find what brought you to dysphoria pull out the source, or face it so you know how it looks like when it sneaks up to you. Recognition and acknowledgment means you can deal with it better as it won't shock you. You'd be able to throw it out before it attacks you.

~ surround yourself with positive influences, and also avoid negative influences. If your close friend group is sexist and/misogynistic, then distance yourself from them. A lot of the self hatred comes from what we've been taught for years about ourselves. Female role models, positivity, cute little notes, etc, and surround yourself with actual body positivity.

~ creativity: Maybe start a cute bullet journal or something similar. Create things and surround yourself with your own creations. Bullet journals are a fun way to keep you busy while also help you be more productive in school and/or life. You can fill it with quotes and pretty pictures and fun doodles.

~ you and your body are not different entities. It's part of you, part of your life since birth, especially because you're female. It feels a bit degrading at first, but in reality, we are our bodies. When were stressed, our body reacts physiologically. When we see someone we love, our heart beats faster.

I remember reading something another woman wrote, saying her dysphoria is at its worst during her period, she got panic attacks every time she started getting it. We're told that our period is what makes us gross but also what makes us women/feminine, but it only makes us women, not feminine, and it's part of our physiology, it made us have lower social standing but only because men decided so. Some women don't get periods, but all those who get periods are women (and I'm not talking about TiM "periods" but real ones). It's one of the parts that can be the hardest to embrace, but it's also a reminder that we, women, are actually the most ideal creation of mother nature regarding humans. Long lasting, unrelenting, strong and (usually) the actual creating power. We're the power of creation as a means for creation, and men? Most of them only create as a means for destruction.

~ healthy lifestyle: a lot of things start looking better when we start a healthier lifestyle, especially life. Add a salad to one of the meals

~ lastly but most helpful for me was writing all my negative feelings down and then just tearing the paper apart, and afterwards throw it to different trashcans, like you'd do with an old credit card. It helped me during some of my most depressive episodes.

#detransition #mine: reply #mine: replies #anon #gender critical #i guess

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thenightling · 3 years

Text

What might have Been (Sandman fan fiction)

What might have Been...

Someone out there really does not want me to write Sandman fan fiction so naturally I must write more.

This story was inspired by the fact that over on his Tumblr Neil Gaiman was asked on at least two occasions that if Alexander Burgess had freed Morpheus, would he still have been condemned to eternal waking or if he would have shown mercy? Both times Neil Gaiman answered that Morpheus would have shown mercy. And yes, Neil Gaiman has a Tumblr. So this is a story of what may have happened of Alexander Burgess had freed Morpheus back when he probably should have.

Note: This story does contain a depiction of early twentieth century homophobia and some period accurate slurs. Based on my own personal experiences as a non-straight person I understand if the scene might make some readers uncomfortable. However you might find the end result of what happens to the abuser somewhat cathartic.

What might have Been…

The boy stared intently at the glass cage in front of him. It was domed and rather egg-like in shape and tall enough to hold a man or something very man-like. The leadened quartz-crystal was as clear as any well-made window. Alexander Burgess watched the creature with the fascination of a child watching a pet lizard in a terrarium.

The naked being in the cage stared back at him with cold intensity and a proud contempt as well. The creature was pale as chalk, and his eyes were like back pools of water with twin stars serving as pupils floating in the darkness. Later Alex would be able to compare this vision to the claimed “Grey” alien encounters he would read about in grocery store tabloid magazines. One stark difference from those creatures though was that this creature had a shock of wild, black, hair that reminded Alex of a disorderly pile of raven feathers, thick and heavy hair that framed the pale face staring out at him from behind the glass. The creature was improbably thin. It was clearly intelligent and generally humanoid. If Alex hadn’t seen the summoning for himself, if he had not detached himself so thoroughly from the alienness of this entity, he might have even found him beautiful or attractive. But all potential for that had been lost to fear and the unavoidable and frightening knowledge that this was not a human being.

Alex did not know why he found The Creature so fascinating. He had discovered who and what the creature was in the Paginarum Fulvarum. The King of Dreams. That revelation had somehow not resolved his sense of curiosity. This was the being accountable for everyone’s dreams, all of humanity’s secret fantasies and all those shameful imaginings that come late at night when people are at their most vulnerable. For Alex there was a secret shame in his own dreams…

“I hate you.” Alex whispered. It was a childish proclamation but there was some hidden pain there. The bony, wraith-like, creature moved his head slightly, acknowledging Alex’s words without responding verbally. He never spoke to them.

Alex wasn’t even twenty-years-old yet but he knew he was not like other men. He was not “manly” by the usual definition of the term. And he believed that if his father knew about his secret yearnings, his Desires… He would be disowned…

It was this thing’s fault, wasn’t it? The cruel bastard there in the box. He was the one who gave him those dreams. The dreams that Alex dared not describe to anyone. Dreams of other young men. The feel of their lips against his face. The tingle through his scalp as the lips vibrate against his earlobe as something gentle and inviting was whispered into his ear. Their affection, their touch, their love… How Alex dreamt of that love, that sweet, terrible, sinful love. And why? Why was this such a taboo? His father had used magick for so many cruelties. He had even killed with it. So why were his desires, ones that could never hurt anyone, considered to be so much worse? …And who decided that a form of love could be deemed evil anyway? Wasn’t love supposed to be ultimate redeemer? The ultimate absolution? As far as young Alex was concerned humans and the powerful beings that governed the universe- they were all hypocrites. All of them! Hypocrites who took pleasure in the befuddlement of others by tempting them with …with deviant dreams…

Alex had enough of staring at the alien-like boogeyman there in the cellar. He got up off the cold, damp, floor where he had been seated, eye level with the crouching, naked thing. Almost staring each other down, as if in a contest of wills neither was entirely sure about. Alex stood up. Unlike the pale creature imprisoned there, Alex could leave. He could leave at any time. …Then why did he feel just as trapped as if he was the one in the glass bubble?

The months passed and not much had changed. Alex had grown a bit, but that was normal. He had read somewhere that some men grow until they’re twenty-five. He was taller, leaner. He discovered he needed spectacles, which wasn’t too surprising. He had squinted often when reading father’s dusty old books.

One thing was different though. Father had hired a new gardener. A pretty, red-haired boy, barely Alex’s own age. And Alex had the distinct feeling that perhaps this young man was also… different. Different in his capacity to feel for men what most men usually only feel for women (or so Alex believed).

It was a warm summer afternoon when Father finally took notice of Alex and the peculiar way he watched the gardener. Alex, whom he often ignored. Roderick Burgess found it distasteful and rather Crowley-esque that his own son should look at another man in that way. He watched as Alex observed the gardener. Roderick hoped what he was seeing here wasn’t what it appeared. But it seemed so. Alex was as infatuated with the near androgynous gardener boy in a way that he should only feel toward women. Well, something must be done about that!

“Father, please!” Alex tried to shield himself with his arm as his father’s heavy, old, walking stick came crashing down on him again. “You are an EMBARRASSMENT! The heir to the Order of Ancient Mysteries, my ONLY son… a worthless, useless… Mary!” There was another crack from the gentleman’s cane being used in a very ungentlemanly fashion. “No, Father, I… Magus. Magus, Please, I-“ “It’s that boy, isn’t it? That Elliot? Well, he doesn’t work here anymore! I sent him away. You’re lucky I don’t just stop his heart to rid myself of this shame!” He was one to talk of Shame. His father, the infamous occultist, rival to Aleister Crowley, head of The Order of Ancient Mysteries, and source of scandal after scandal. The papers always had something to say about Father. They never spoke about Alex. Alex knew how to keep a low profile, to keep to himself, to go virtually unnoticed in his father’s shadow. The threat to stop Elliot’s heart was very real. Alex knew his father had enough magick to do such a thing to someone without the occult means to defend himself. “No! He’s innocent!” “Innocent?!” What did that matter to someone like Roderick? Alex had always been too damn soft and now he had gone over to fairyland as far as Roderick was concerned. Well, at least he knew his son hadn’t soiled his bed with his deviance yet- he had not acted out his profanity in the house, at least there was that. “Look at you! You’re a disgrace!” Alex was cowering and crouched in the corner of his room, which was in disarray from his father’s attack. He knew he couldn’t hide what he was from him. His father was just too powerful…

It also didn’t help that Alex had kept those old novels under his bed. The picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, Carmilla by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, a few selected Greek myths carefully bookmarked in a thick, leather-bound, volume, and the closet drama Goethe’s Faust parts 1 and 2 translated perfectly from German into English. Anyone with the ability to read between the lines, as they say, could tell what Mephisto’s relationship with Faust was really all about… Alex couldn’t tell what was worse, the words his father said or the cane coming down again and again. He was too afraid to fight back. There was no telling what his father or his father’s minion might do if he tried. Sometimes he had nightmares of his father’s darker wrath, much more extreme than this. “You dress like a fairy! Look at you! Growing your hair out like a girl, walking around in long velvet jackets like they’re frocks! You think you look like Henry Irving or something? No, you look like a little girl! No woman will ever find you attractive. I should have realized, the way you bury yourself in those books, like a little wanna-be priest.” Alex saw nothing wrong with dandy fashion and as for his hair, plenty of respectable men had hair longer than his. His hair wasn’t even really shaggy. Oscar Wilde’s hair had been longer than this at the time of his death. Though he knew that was, as far as his father was concerned, an awful example. He whimpered and tried to wait out the pain and dared not argue the accusations. “They stare at you, you know.” Roderick continued in his tirade to shame him. Alex knew the only person who actually scrutinized what he wore was his own father. He kept to himself too much to be the focus of anyone else’s attention. “You think I don’t see it? How they turn and look at you and whisper on the street what a pansy you are. Maybe if you dressed normal you wouldn’t forget you’re supposed to be a man!” No one was actually saying he was a pansy. That was clearly Father’s own insecurity about his masculinity talking.

“Clean yourself up.” Roderick said, finally too exhausted to beat him anymore. And in an after-thought “If anyone asks, you fell off a horse like the clumsy idiot you are.”

Roderick walked from the room, gentleman’s cane (if you could call it that) still clutched in his hand.

Alex slowly pulled himself to his feet. He was trembling yet, and sniffling, trying to choke back the threatening sobs. Alex had long ago abandoned the childish (as he saw it) hope that a parent’s love was truly unconditional. The child in him still insisted it was supposed to be unconditional, that parents are supposed to love you and accept no matter what, and Alex still craved his father’s approval and acceptance. It had been some naïve governess from Alex’s childhood who had taught him that foolish notion he could not shake, that a parent should love you without condition. And he never could quite let go of that belief even if all of his life experiences insisted that no parent (at least his parent) could not love in that way… Could Roderick Burgess love at all?

Alex finally left his badly disheveled room once he was certain his father was no longer nearby. There were papers and books scattered, along with a knocked over chair and some random knickknacks. Some ceramic and glass items were broken, fragments of childhood playthings lay on the carpet. Something had broken tonight and it was not merely some old toys… Alex walked …or more precisely he stumbled, down the hall. Alex’s back ached where he had gotten the brunt of the caning. He knew the marks were going to scar. Everything ached. His shoulders, his legs, especially his back. One eye was blackened and his cheeks were red from the heat of crying. He wiped furiously at his own tears. It was foolish to cry. And it was dangerous to dream…

He would never really be free. He was as much his father’s prisoner as the creature down in the cellar… If he tried to run away he knew his father and his magick would find him. And… he had nowhere to go anyway… Even if his situation was “Normal” and there was no fear of magical ramifications for his defiance, to whom could he turn? Where could he run? There was no sanctuary for someone like him…

Alex made his way to the secret passage, to the stone staircase that spiraled its way down to the windowless chamber. He knocked on the heavy wooden door and announced himself for the two guards his father had watching the prisoner. One of the guards opened the door for him. They knew better than to question the boy’s condition but there was a slight trace of pity in at least one of them, a softening to the man’s usually unreadable expression. Alex managed to steadily walk to the glass cage, hiding that he was in pain. He slowly laid his hand against the cool glass. “Please leave us.” “But the Magus says-“ One of the men started to protest. “My... Father,” Alex practically spat the word, “is the one who pays you. And I speak on his behalf. Now go!” The men exchanged looks and then shrugged, deciding not to argue with the young man. They both were eager to have a tea and coffee break anyway. Alex lowered his hand and stood outside the cage. He looked at the pale, emaciated figure behind the glass. He had never changed. Not since the day they had captured him. He had not aged, nor had he grown a beard. And yet Alex felt as if he, himself, had changed so very much in that time. Changed in such a way that he saw now that he was in no better of a situation than this creature here. Trapped in darkness, trapped behind the glass, unable to touch or be touched. Alone… Naked, exposed. Everyone could see everything about him. And yet he- The King of Dreams- was unashamed. Proud. Not trembling or cowering from a brute of a father. Alex’s contempt for the creature mingled with long, distant fear, was now being replaced by a different emotion. Something not unlike empathy and maybe even envy. Envy at the defiance of will, envy at the hidden power that such a fragile, delicate looking thing could have… Almost beautiful. The King of Dreams was almost beautiful…

Alexander Burgess saw this weakened, helpless wretch, and he saw himself. A prisoner locked away from light. A prisoner stripped of dignity. Utterly at his father’s mercy until he said or did what his father wanted… Would this proud creature eventually cower and break as Alex felt like he had broken. Alex bit his lip. If he freed this creature it… he might kill him… or worse… But maybe… Whatever his fate might be, it was better than this. Right now, as it stood, they were both prisoners. But if he freed him, this so-called King of Dreams… At least one of them would be free. And Alex would have some small revenge on his father, the Magus of The Order of Ancient Mysteries… Maybe it was some half-hearted attempt at self-destruction, a suicide without noose or razor- that Alex felt he would either die by this creature’s hand or by his father’s but he wanted this thing to end and let it end tonight. This felt like the only true way to end it. Alex had gotten a hold of the heavy brass key and placed it into the lock at the base of the crystalline cage. He was really doing it. The key fit easily into the hole of the metal base just within the binding circle’s confines. Alex dragged his foot over the old, chalk, binding circle, deliberately breaching it, as he turned the key. The crystalline cage opened at a discrete seam. The pale figure stood up slowly, cautiously, moving like an uncertain animal. He blinked those wide, black eyes, like doe reacting to being offered food by a human.

The King of Dreams stepped out of the cage and toward Alex. He tentatively moved beyond the binding circle as if worried that Alex might change his mind and try to stop him, or perhaps that someone else might. Alex stepped back but only slightly. Alex waited for whatever was to come next. The pale figure moved to him, the glassy black eyes stared at him, stared deep into his own and for a brief moment Alex felt… understood... maybe even accepted. And most importantly he felt… forgiven. Not for the sin of what he was- this creature saw that as no crime, but for how he had treated him. For taking part in the summoning spell, for being complacent in his father’s abuses and humiliation of this proud entity. “I’m sorry…” Alexander said, swallowing back fresh tears. “I’m sorry… It was my father, he…” The pale figure put a finger to his own lips.* “Shhh.” Alex was trembling, afraid of what he might do next. And for a second, there was such a softness to the usually cold creature and a slender hand touched Alex’s cheek but only for a brief moment. Alex had never heard him speak and he was startled by the soft sound of an audible voice coming from him. He didn’t say anything really other than the “Shhh.” Alex blinked several times. The King of Dreams moved past Alex, toward the stairs. Alex went to bed shortly after that as if nothing had happened. He had just felt so very tired. He tried to behave as if he had not just released his father’s prisoner. The next morning though things were different. Alex had slept peacefully and felt quite well rested. Even his black eye had seemed to have mostly healed and his back didn’t hurt anymore. There would be no scars after all. But something was wrong in the house of Fawny Rig. The servants were in a tither. Roderick Burgess would not wake form his sleep. He was alive. And he seemed to be dreaming. He would moan and mutter, and occasionally whimper or beg for it to stop, crying out in his sleep, but he would not waken. Alex stood to the side of the bed. “Father! Father, please! It’s me, Alex! Please wake up! …Please.” But the situation was hopeless.

And despite everything he had suffered at his father’s hands Alex still grieved. He wept as if his father was dead and he knew his father’s fate was worse than death. Alex still mourned. Alex still pined for what might have been, still longed for a father that would love him unconditionally and accept him for who and what he was without question. If the world’s most infamous sorcerer couldn’t even do that… who could? Who could… love him?

Alex was scared. He had been in his father’s shadow so long he did not know how to function without him and he had been so isolated, he had so few friends. All he could do was rely on the servants, the lawyers, and his father’s money to support himself. His father was moved to the hospital and eventually diagnosed with some sort of Encephalitis Lethargica. A sort of brain swelling related sleeping sickness but Alexander Burgess knew better… Somehow he knew…

His father would never wake up… The years passed and everything that was Roderick’s passed into Alex’s hands. His father died years later in that hospital bed but Alex was not sure of his father’s nightmares were truly over. He imagined his father’s soul was still trapped somewhere, still suffering an endless nightmare leading into another nightmare, and each time he thought he was waking he would just find himself in yet another new nightmare. Somehow Alex knew this. Where his father was now condemned to eternal waking did he know his body had died or did he have a futile hope that he would one day wake up?

The estate, Roderick’s fortune, everything was now Alex’s. No one was there to be critical or to tell Alex what to wear, how to speak, or… who he could love. And Alex eventually met a beautiful young man named Paul. Oh, how he loved Paul. They would travel to such places together. London, France, Berlin… They traveled together on a private yacht and drank Champaign on the deck as they watched the sunset over the Mediterranean Sea. There was no secret prisoner to worry about, nothing to shackle them to Fawny Rig like Dorian Gray shackled to his painting. They could go anywhere. They could do anything. They were free. And Alexander Burgess lived Happily Ever After… It was a pleasant dream. Too pleasant…

Elderly Alexander Burgess woke in a cold sweat. There were fresh tears in his eyes. He sat up in bed and Paul was there beside him. At least there was that… At least Paul was there. Paul was real.

But that’s not how the story played out, not really. Alex had never been brave enough to defy his father. He had not slipped down to the cellar the night that he should have. He had never freed the prisoner. Even when his father had died he had never freed the prisoner that he both resented and related to. And he had been the one punished with six years locked in a nightmare that would seem to end only to reveal a new nightmare was starting, and on and on it had gone. He had woken from that “eternal” curse to his beloved Paul waiting for him. He had been forgiven. He was relieved that Paul was here. Paul looked at him now. “What is it, love? Did you have a bad dream?” Alex nodded. “I don’t know what’s worse… that nightmare that I was trapped in or…” He bit his lip before choosing the words. “…knowing I could have saved us all… saved myself…if I had just done the right thing at the right time…”

“Hush now, darling. You’re still half-asleep. I’ll get you some tea.” Alex was soothed and sighed. There was no use dwelling on what might have been. But sometimes those dreams of what he could have done- what he should have done, if he had just been brave enough… Sometimes that felt so much worse than the actual punishment the Lord of Dreams had subjected him to before finally forgiving him…

But at least he was safe now. At least he had Paul. And at least he had been forgiven. And he was loved and accepted for who and what he truly was. And his cruel, old father, was very much dead. A loveless old man was gone. But Alex was alive. Paul was alive. And they were in love. And no one could take that away from them. And Alex and The King of Dreams were both free from the shadow of Roderick Burgess forever.

There was no point on dwelling on what might have been. That did not matter now. What mattered was the love that Alex had finally found and the freedom that he and The King of Dreams both had gained.

The End

#The Sandman #Sandman #The Sandman Fan fiction #What Might have been...

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sapphic-writing · 3 years

Text

A substitute

This is me being productive thank uuuu

Again, writing about my beloved Hawks ! Another Character study but with a little more plot!

Family dinners were a thing Hawks had never attended. So when Inko Midoriya invited him to a dinner with her son in their apartment, it felt personal enough for him to be touched.

With all the things that Izuku had been going through in the last months, Hawks had became a friend to him. After all, he was one of the only people the kid would talk to because of his work obsession, he had reassured the poor mother several times when they met in the hospital and the hero saved the student's ass more than once.

Inko was thankful for all of that and Hawks enjoyed her company. So initially, it was him who invited her and the kid to his favorite restaurant as he always did with people he grew found of. But the offer had been negotiated and twisted by the woman, in such a way that he ended up knocking at their door on a Saturday night at 6:49 pm.

He entered and was struck by how warm the small flat felt. There wasn't much, but he could feel all the love and care that was put into the relationships of the people inhabiting this nest.

The reason it appeared obviously to him was because he was used to the atmosphere of his own house to be oppressing and awkward. Even since he had been left alone, his mother had somehow let those feelings behind her like a sticky mud imbedding every furniture and parquet lick. It wasn't as overwhelming as when it flooded the whole place, letting Keigo in a constant fight for a breath of air, suffocating most of the time, but it was there. He was surprised by how the small home of the Midoriyas seemed deprived of any of this.

He sat down with them and they conversed while eating. Every now and then, Inko thanked him again for the times he had saved her son's life. Hawks would always accept it and say that the kid was a future great hero, it would be a shame to let him die at this age. A statement to which she agreed proud and loud while her son tried to hide the pleasure those flatteries provided him. A feeling of longing emerged in Hawks as he watched the woman compliment her flesh and blood. Squishing his hand when she reminded him of how much she loved him and sometimes blushing, as if she didn't deserve such an amazing kid as her Izuku. It was such a strange thing to see this mother invested in her son's dreams and ambitions.

While Hawks did know it should be a usual thing in a functioning family, being at the first row to witness this made him feel a lump in his throat.

When the student couldn't bare to be the subject of anymore compliments, he switched the conversation to the professional hero in a rather obvious way that none of the two others decided to take notice of.

After a few work anecdotes, the woman came to ask what she should call the hero outside of work.

"I have been going by Hawks for over ten years now." He answered. "But thank you for asking. You must have seen Touya's broadcast too. I really appreciate that you asked despite knowing my name."

"Why do you keep using your hero name in private if your identity is out to the public by now?" Izuku asked. Then he put his chin in his hand and tried to answer his own question before the hero could. "Altho I have to admit that after a decade of never using it, it could feel unfamiliar and strange to you. And just because the public knows about your name's reputation doesn't mean that you would want them to be reminded of it- not that your name defines your value... Or that you really care about your public image, now that I think of it."

While he was trailing off, Inko's face decomposed as she grew more and more horrified of how intrusive her son was being without realizing it. Hawks finished chewing his bite before cutting the boy off.

"Actually, I am in fact used to be called Hawks more than to be called Keigo or Takami. But I also like to think of it as always being working. I wake up and go to bed Hawks. I am myself as a hero and therefore I don't need a personal life next to it."

The boy nodded thoughtfully while the mother thanked him for sharing this with them and apologized for her son's comportment. Realizing only now what he had done, Izuku was quick to apologize with even more embarrassment than his mother if it was possible and it took Hawks a few minutes to seemingly convince them they had done no harm.

Once both the mother and son calmed down, Inko found the courage to start a new subject of conversation.

"About you always working. While I understand the necessity of it, is it something that all heroes are doing?" She said looking down at her plate.

Before Hawks could say anything, Izuku grabbed his mother's harm in a comforting way. "I will choose what kind of hero I am. And I know I don't want to be one without you. I have already tried cutting people out. I am never doing that again, I promise."

Inko gripped her son's arm back, tears growing in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Izuku. I just got scared for you again for an instant." The boy comforted her with a few words and she swallowed her tears to apologize to their guest.

"I'm sorry you saw this. I invited you to have a good time, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"There's no problem." The man answered in a detached way. But his stomach now felt heavy and he wasn't hungry, so he grabbed his cup to drink instead.

It wasn't because he thought Inko made a scene or that he was uncomfortable with feelings in general. But the worry of the woman for her son had him wondering for a second if she would ever reveal personal informations about him if she was threatened. And the answer imposed itself to the man, she would never. And she would most definitely not then leave with only a note waiting in an empty hoise for her injured son coming back from a stay at the hospital after a war.

Thoughts about his mother creeped into Hawks' mind. Mostly questions, since she had left without any indication of where she was going.

Witnessing Inko's dedication to her child triggered some instincts in Hawks that were urging him to run to his own mother in the search of comfort. Hut despite this natural reflex, his brain couldn't picture such a scene. Not with the detached and clueless woman that was Tomie Takami. Not with the unnatural relationship they had. Actually, he knew that she would be the one to one day desperately come back to him when she will have spent all the money she took with her.

He carried the conversation with the Midorias for a while. Staying in their home this night was as if a sadistic entity was mockingly shaking a toy in front of a child who would never be able to even imagine the joy of holding it in their hands. So he finally declared he was leaving, sooner than he probably would have otherwise. He thanked the attentionate family and went for a fly outside. For a while, he had no clue of where he was going. After a while of wandering in his immense city, he found himself drawn back to his favorite restaurant. He stared at the closed place from a higher building. Lost in his thoughts and faced by the mediocrity of the comfort this place brought to him.

Was the title too subtle about the restaurant vs family dinner being a parallel of how Hawks finds substitute for his non existent childhood and family in things that aren't personal?

#hawks one shot #mha hawks #my hero academia hawks #wing hero hawks #character study #one shot #mha writing #mha oneshot #writing #izuku mydoria #inko midoriya

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eightysixed · 3 years

Text

happier than ever

You call me again, drunk in your Benz Drivin' home under the influence You scared me to death, but I'm wastin' my breath 'Cause you only listen to your fuckin' friends I don't relate to you I don't relate to you, no 'Cause I'd never treat me this shitty You made me hate this city

words: 3.2k plot: emma and tomo’s relationship, in a nutshell. trigger warnings: abuse, assault, drugs, cheating, violence, blood, suicidal ideation, nsfw

Five years is a lifetime when you’ve just begun your twenties. It’s half a decade of years so formative and important that you don’t really realize their importance until they have flown past.

Emma spent those years with Tomo.

[ SEPTEMBER 2014 ]

A twenty-one year old goes to an Outkast concert. She gets propositioned by a guy. Rough, pushy, handsy, it’s enough to make her feel suffocated, plan paths of escape or desperately look for a face in the crowd that could intervene. Then he comes in with his buddies and they all but rescue her. How ironic Emma thinks, years later. What a Disney-ified, damsel in distress moment to have and to meet by.

They spend the rest of the concert together, follow it up with an after hours at Los Coyotes, wolfing down soft shells in between food-spitting laughter. Emma, Tomo, and his two buddies. The energy is infectious, and she doesn’t want to say goodbye at the end of the night. It’s a feeling she has never felt before; those sparks in his eyes that are in hers too, the way he grounds and floors her. They exchange numbers and Emma’s face lights up as she’s getting off her Muni owl: it’s a text from him.

It doesn’t take long for his contact name to acquire an Emoji heart next to it, the girl who ridiculed these kinds of things in high school now finding herself enamoured, head-over-heels, and not caring for the criticisms of formerly cynical self.

[ OCTOBER ] A month later and she’s packed up and moved into his place, about as happy as she has ever been of late; everything in life falls into place with him, just makes sense.

[ NOVEMBER ] He gets エマ tattooed on his collarbone; her name in katakana. She gets 23, his lucky number.

They spend thanksgiving with her mom in Cupertino. Frankie hasn’t seen Emma this animated again in a long time, composes a poem about in her head as the green beans and pumpkin pie are passed around. Later of course, she pulls out the baby photos, much to Emma’s embarrassment and Tomo’s delight. “You were such a fat baby, Jesus,” Tomo laughs. “She looks like she ate baby Jesus,” her mother quips.

When her mom falls asleep, they sneak out and climb up Emma’s childhood treehouse armed with blankets. They gaze at a sliver of night sky through a gap in the roof as Emma tells him her childhood dreams of flying to space and inventing computers that could contact extraterrestrial life. They kiss, they make love, Emma ponders her stance on marriage being outdated and for chumps and losers next to a snoring Tomo.

[ FEBRUARY 2015 ] Their first Valentine’s day together they drop acid at Pier 39. An irate parent yells at them for making out on the merry-go-round in view of children; have they no shame.

She makes new friends, dozens, someone always at their place as Tomo plays them new tracks, smoke weed together, and watch the oil projector light show make shapes on the ceiling. They talk about the future, fame, and world domination.

They don’t discuss babies because neither of them care for that sort of shit — but they do talk about moving into a bigger place together, maybe getting a dog or two — the breed is subject of many arguments.

[ MARCH ] In peak puppy fever, Emma adopts a two year old rescue bulldog named Tito. It’s the first, tiny sign of a crack in their relationship, of dissent — she thinks she sees Tomo glare at the precious pup when he thinks she isn’t looking. But maybe she imagined it. He does shed and slobber uncontrollably after all, and her boyfriend happens to be a clean freak.

[ JULY ] That summer, Emma braves a plane once more to see Tomo play in Atlanta. His set is off the walls and for the first time, she is amazed to see just how many fans he has, how far this boyfriend of hers has come from making tracks in his living room. It’s just too bad she is fast asleep when he tiptoes out of their hotel room to meet one of said fans for a back-alley blowjob.

They roadtrip across the South to play some more venues and the pattern repeats itself in Louisiana, Texas, New Mexico. She wakes up in a cold sweat one night in Vegas, confused as to why he’s gone. “Out getting food. Got hungry.” The message hits her in a weird place, but she is tired, sleepy, and in a haze; Emma accepts, does not question. He even returns with some Taco Bell for her.

Timeskip — 3 years:

[ APRIL 2018 ]

Emma is on her hands and knees in a bathroom, vomit dripping off the toilet rim. She can’t remember how or why she got here, but she’s here. Everything seems to be swimming backwards. Eventually she is able to collect herself off the floor, splash water against her face and wall-to-wall stagger back out of the bathroom. It didn’t work, she’s purged the worst of it but still feeling funny. “Oh, Emma, there you are.” A man’s hands wrap around her. He says he’s friends with Tomo. Says he’ll take her to him. Fade to black.

Waking up with strange bruises should not become a norm, but it does. Emma dismisses it, goes to work, does her best.

Things with Tomo are a violent rollercoaster; some days are great, some days nondescript; and some days downright nightmarish. They fight, throw shit, break shit, yell at each other. Things almost border on the unacceptable as words turn into threats, threats turn to action. A hand around the throat; a body pinned to the wall — her body, of course. His weed grinder he threw that hit her in the head which he swore he’d meant to only toss at the wall. It never crosses a line into the unacceptable, though. That’s what Emma tells herself. He might push her down on the bed, sure, but a bed was soft. He might squeeze her throat in the heat of an argument, but never so much that she’s passing out. He doesn’t hit, kick, or punch her. That was what abusers did, not him.

She tells herself he can’t help it, his mother used to punish him and his father didn’t love him and now he lashes out the only way he knows how, on the only person he can. He didn’t grown up in as loving a home like she did. He had his reasons. It was okay. They were okay. And the makeup sex afterwards? The best ever.

[ MAY 2018 ] A month later and Emma is walking in on some girl riding Tomo’s dick like the world was ending, right there on their couch. On their goddamn couch they picked out together, hauled up the stairs with the delivery men. Somehow, the worst part about it all, Emma’s fucked up brain tells her, is that Tito is there to witness it. Her innocent, furry son, witnessing his ‘dad’ for all intents and purposes, cheating on his mom. A ridiculously thought but one she has nonetheless as she’s driving away, Tito next to her in the passenger seat. She goes to sleep at a friend’s and sobs the entire night.

Despite herself, she doesn’t break up with him; but the rift is a mile wide and constantly palpable. Tomo becomes relentlessly apologetic. Not only does he beg forgiveness, he does it live on-air at a radio station, on social media, Emma bombarded by strangers she doesn’t know writing her to take him back. Then he goes and uses her personal kryptonite pulls a Lloyd Dobler outside her work with a Cocorosie song she was absolutely weak for. She hates making a public scene but the sentimental part of her is melting at the gesture, the boombox, all of it. Emma stays. He’d been a shitbag, but he was her shitbag, with all his lovable and terrible qualities wrapped into one person, and she just had to take the shit with the good. Because there was no one else she’d rather be with, ripping side-stitches from too much laughter at four in the morning, tears in her eyes for a good reason this time, from one of his horrifying jokes.

He was hers and she was his, that’s just how it was to be. Well, as much as she could call him hers when he seemed to be everybody else’s in the process.

Emma does ridiculous, degrading, uncomfortable things in the name of love, and yet in the end she can’t hold on to the love she had for him in the beginning. Way back when they were going up on that ferris wheel at the pier and he looked at her like he had nothing but love in this world, for her. That was what hurt the most, because now the ferris wheel only went down.

There are threesomes, fivesomes, sixsomes, so many bodies in between hers and the one she loves, all in the name of exciting him, holding onto him, trying to be something for him that measured up to Enough. But none of it is enough. None of it makes him happy, nor did it make her happy. She gives him an inch and he takes a mile and then demands more, smiling with blood in his mouth. She breaks down and becomes something she doesn’t recognize in the mirror. Whether it was an act of revenge or desperation, or finally wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine, Emma sleeps with Corey, one of his best friends. She takes pictures, sends them to him “by accident”. She hates herself through it all, every moment of it, mostly for what he made her into. And yet, underneath all the layers of attempts at hurting him she was really just crawling on all fours, begging him to love her again, need her and want he the way he did in the beginning. Craving to get that first hit back, the one she had been on a residue high off of for four years, the one that now tasted metallic and rancid in her throat.

The worst part? Tomo doesn’t care. He texts her back, telling her to have fun, to send more pictures. She’s never felt this hollow, this empty, this non-entity of a being. The day of her high school graduation flashes in her mind, her dad telling her to never lose her identity, the core of what made her, her. Emma took that core and probably threw it into the Pacific. Somewher between Japan and California, it lies at the bottom of the ocean.

[ APRIL 2019 ]

Turns out, Emma could draw a line, and that line was becoming accessory to a drug deal. She knew Tomo sold on the side to make up for all the money going into the records, but it had always been a few pills here and there, nothing big. But this? Fentanyl, Xanax, bricks of coke and hash? It was a lot. It was too much.

He sells the drugs and her to go with it, and that’s the end right there. The package she delivers to the apartment he asks her to deliver it to turns into a hostage situation, and she leaves hours later, bruises and caked blood on her. She can’t go home, doesn’t want to. She wants to jump off the bridge she’s crossing from Oakland back to the city. Any bridge, any of them would do. She understands why people jump from the Golden Gate now, or maybe always had. She was there now, climbing the railings, she was ready. She wanted that plunge so badly, would be sad to leave one parent, but good to be reunited with the other. Maybe there she’d be happy, maybe there she’d find peace.

She calls Ben that night. She’s dry eyed and unemotional, but as soon as she gets the right words, verbalizes her situation, she’s sobbing again. Tomo is out of the city, across the country in Philly on tour. Now was the time, if there was any time for it. She’s not even done with the call when Ben is getting in his car to drive to her. It’s 6 hours from Ojai to San Francisco; he tells her he’ll be there in five. She never deserved a friend like him and never would, Emma thinks as she packs, hastily because somehow Tomo walking through the front door as a ‘surprise’ wouldn’t be out of the question. In the end, she can’t pack everything, has to leave so much behind, her records, books, knickknacks. Five years in this apartment and she’s leaving all of it behind, making a getaway in the middle of the night like some kind of burglar.

By three in the morning he’s here, and they get to packing her suitcases in the car, stacking them as best as they fit in his trunk and backseat, all of Tito’s things and then Tito on a bed in the seat in the back. Emma is in busy mode, stacking and packing everything as fast she can, still somewhere in the back of her mind thinking Tomo would appear at the last minute, and how with Ben here, things could get ugly. She doesn’t want them to get ugly. She loved him far too much to see him have to deal with Tomo, the only person in that specific firing line should be her and no one else.

They drive off. She only feels herself unclench an hour out of Daly City, somewhere in between the Bay and Southern California, where she can exhale. She’s still looking behind them constantly, wondering if every passing car could somehow be him. The saddest, most desperate part of all this that a part of her wants him to have followed. One last ditch attempt to get her back. An all out attempt, one where he would get on both knees and apologize, swear to never be this way again and follow through with it, because he was her person, he was her only person, there was nobody else in this world for her but him, but what do you do when you had to run from your person in the dead of night?

She pulls her raincoat tighter when they stop to get gas, a cold and windy middle of nowhere gas station. She’s not sure how she ends up embracing him, but they’re in it, and feeling someone’s arms around her, somebody that actually cares, who’d never hurt her, who was family, was her mom and his sister and everybody she loved rolled into one, feels like a reprieve. She feels like dirt for making him do this, making him worry, Emma was a piece of shit for that.

She says as much. He tells her to shut up, that she’s nothing like that and this was nothing that he wouldn’t have done for her on any night, any time at all. And maybe that, that was the night she fell in love with him a little bit, or realized she had always been, all along, but God likes to play Lucifer’s games with the little lives he watches over, and it wasn’t made to be, too late anyway since she’d left her heart in somebody else’s hands where it would stay. And he doesn’t need a mess like her anyway, just thinking of the name Catarina was enough. It had been five years but she still remembered the day like yesterday. How low he had been back then. How they would get high together and feel miserable together because at least they had that. They had Weetzie too, but she hadn’t experienced loss like they had, she sympathized but she’d never know what this particular slice of hell was like. But Ben and Emma knew. She knew it in that part of her ribs that met his, and she did not know what she would do if she didn’t have that, have Ben Abrams in her life.

[ MARCH 2021 ]

Fast forward two years, and the ex is in town. Here, in Los Angeles. That very ex you worked so hard to forget, to heal from, to act like he wasn’t there. And yet, reminders of him were constantly there, everywhere. She doesn’t tell her friends, doesn’t tell anybody he’s in town, just balks when his so called best friend turns up in her neighborhood. She nearly grabs Tito and runs the other way, but it had been too late for that and they have a forced, awkward catch-up. He’s oblivious to anything happening, had barely known about her and Tomo breaking up. Figures, Emma thought, that he would act like nothing happened at all.

He’s in town, and every day she goes to work dreading something happening. She thinks she sees him outside the tattoo parlor’s window, but it’s someone else entirely. She’s losing it again, losing sleep, falling prey to her nightmares. Has a boyfriend now but even that doesn’t help, if anything, he’s a guilty reminder of just how little progress she had made, because she couldn’t devote the time and attention somebody like that needed in her life. Not when all she could think about was him.

The worst part is that once he’s long gone again, back up north, she’s feeling that hollow feeling again. Feeling upset that he didn’t seek her out, didn’t come see her. Even though she knew what an unmitigated disaster that would’ve been, the horrible, rotten part of her wanted it. Of course it wanted it. Two years and her skin still itched for him like an addict longing to be in the throes of fullblown relapse. But he didn’t track her down, call, or text, and that was that. Her only run-in with him involves a party flyer papered on a wall, his name in big stylized letters as the headlining DJ at the club. She stares at that flyer for a little too long, it burns itself in her eye like she’d looked at the sun for too long. And then she does the worst thing she could probably do, go on instagram. Only to find he has a new girlfriend. A brunette with tattoos who looked fun and flirty and everything she had been all those years ago.

That was the last tip of the scale. She reactivates her Tinder, finds some half okay looking guy, makes plans to meet him that night. It’s terrifying, so terrifying going through with, but she gets sufficiently drunk, then high on top of that, and goes through with it. Thinking of another boy’s name the entire time, his face, his body, hands and all the rest. Twelve hours later she’s leaving his apartment, no longer the nun of two years she’d become and feeling shitty about that on top of everything else. It was probably time to go see Karen again she thinks, smoking a cigarette under the sun that melts her while waiting for her Uber home. Thanks friends, thanks family, I’ve made terrific process with all your help and am now back to square one. Thanks for everything.

Maybe in a decade’s time.

Maybe she’d be over it by then.

#billie eilish and her new album sponsored this para #literally billie wrote this song for emma i die #did i have his s.para tucked away for 2 whole years because i was too lazy to finish it? yup #emma #self para #self para: emma #npc: tomo slater

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thedreadvampy · 4 years

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there's nothing specifically BAD about white jon, it's just kind of... weird sometimes? for fans of color to see a character so universally portrayed as brown be portrayed white. it's more due to the universality of the headcanon than anything. we get comfortable thinking of him as "one of us," so to speak, so seeing him as white can be anywhere from mildly jarring to actively upsetting. it's obvs not actual whitewashing, but it sometimes evokes a similar emotional response, if that makes sense

First off, sorry if this is a bit addled, as I said me and Tumblr got in a bit of a fight so this is the third time I'm typing a response to this.

This makes a lot of sense to me, and it hadn't really occurred to me previously (because I am, as I have said, hWHITE). I feel like I don't know what to say here that doesn't sound more casual than I mean it - yes. I don't want to say "I get it" bc I probably don't have a full picture of how it feels to have people who look like you be so rarely shown as whole people in media, but it makes perfect SENSE how much of a gut punch that could be.

That's my whole response directly to this ask, is yeah, that makes sense and it's a shitty way to be made to feel. Little preface to this next bit - it's going to be self indulgent word salad and it's not as much a reflection on what you've said (which I wholeheartedly accept and I'm angry at myself for not thinking of tbh). so it's not aimed at you, it's sort of an into the ether continuation of the thoughts this started in me.

(And it's definitely meant as an explanation rather than a justification, it's not an 'I'm sorry you feel that way but I'm right' but I kind of wanna feel out for myself what it is that made me come on so strong and get so on one about a white Jon headcanon when I'm normally pretty quiet about fandom stuff.)

I kind of hate fanon? Not specifically TMA fanon, I've just always found it...irritating, I guess, that noncanonical appearances become very rapidly The Correct Thing and everything has to be done in reference to that (sometimes even when it runs directly counter to established canon). I think the obvious non-TMA example is Cecil and Carlos from WTNV - one of the big reasons I never engaged much with that fandom is that the Correct Cecil was drawn with white hair pale skin third eye skinny bod sweater vest etc etc, and if you drew a Black Cecil or a chubby Cecil or an Unknowable Eldritch Entity Cecil, then it was an AU, it was being viewed in RELATION to this Default Cecil who everyone was drawing without really knowing why except that that's What Cecil Looks Like, and when you came in having listened to the podcast and started engaging with fandom, (I felt) you were expected to drop however you had been visualising the character and start visualising this very specific look with no real reason?

And that's very much how I felt, correctly or incorrectly, coming into TMA fandom (or rather, as TMA fandom started spreading far enough that it came to me) - I started listening to TMA in probably like early 2017, because I had a lot of late studio nights and it was this thing Jonny was doing etc, and I doubt I saw a single piece of fanart until at least 2018/19. So it's a bit...I turned round and suddenly there's This Way Jon Looks, which doesn't at all relate to how I imagined him (and by the way possibly more significantly for me personally, This Way Martin Looks, which for reasons I can't exactly explain just sets me off, I HATE the ubiquity of Cute Little Shy Ginger Chubby Sweatervest Martin) and that's absolutely fine! It's a podcast! There is no right answer here! Except there seems to be a singular right answer. I don't think I've ever seen a Black Jon, an East Asian Jon, a Latino Jon, a South Asian Jon, a fat Jon, a bald Jon, whatever. (Also very few unhot Jons which. let this man be a nebbish weirdo) It's the homogeneity I find kind of alienating and at the same time I do get that that established image is functionally providing representation for a lot of people. It isn't that I don't think Jon should be brown (although I own that I've come a long way on that over the last few weeks and I did come in pretty stridently WHITE JON initially which was....hm. at best thoughtless.) but I do think I'm a bit...baffled, I guess? by the idea that there is one Correct Jon who should be treated, effectively, as canonical.

#i think I'm going to tag this stuff #white jon #because it's giving me a lot to think about and i want to be able to come back to it

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abjectaspiringfailure · 4 years

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Hello, in your response to one of my previous asks you mentioned that rc cells functioned like the Blacklight Virus did in Prototype. If I may ask, how so? Also, on a more random note, what would you think if there were a one-eyed ghoul featured in the series who was like Alex Mercer?

Hello, in your response to one of my previous asks you mentioned that rc cells functioned like the Blacklight Virus did in Prototype. If I may ask, how so?

Sorry this took so long to get to.

So as a preface for this post, I don’t personally believe Ishida was invoking these things in a way where he thought “this is primarily meant to be seen through the lens of the original 2009 [PROTOTYPE]”, but it is an interesting coincidence. Both Tokyo Ghoul and Prototype have a unique design style, and the result is a story that if you rush through will leave you going “well I guess things are complete but uh.... what?” Which is why Tokyo Ghoul had such a vast meta community that formed, and why Prototype has an active theory crafting community given its size and relative obscurity. Both have a web of intrigue that needed to be solved to get a good grasp on the story and arguably many things of importance are said and done offscreen.

I got absorbed in going on about both Prototype and Tokyo Ghoul, so I’m going back to put this here. I enjoyed how both of these series were basically puzzles to be solved, and I think both are misunderstood (though Tokyo Ghoul moreso than Prototype). I ended up writing a lot about the similarities that pertained to the question in the sense that there were ways the virus and RC cells had some similarities, but I ended up trimming it down significantly. So uh.

DX1118 functions by rewriting the host’s DNA to replicate. In most cases, there is death via organ failure. What “failure” and “lethality” means in the case of DX1118 is varied just like it is in Tokyo Ghoul with “success” and “floppies”; although the virus kills people, it brings them back as monsters. I’m tempted to believe this is referring to the attempts to weaponize the virus in the sense of creating super soldiers; a prelude to the DX1120 variant. The one mentioned to be Redlight explicitly has a 99.999 lethality rate.

In the case of DX1118 and its offshoots, “releasing what’s already there” means activating the non-coding areas of the genome. Essentially, the powers bestowed upon those who survive the virus in Prototype are not the result of the virus by itself, but rather the virus using things inside the human genome for mutations. The human genome actually has a rather hefty chunk of it made out of viruses that infected our ancestors and stayed in their system, roughly about 4 - 8%.

I see Tokyo Ghoul humans as naturally progressing towards becoming ghouls due to RC cells and the way they adapted to the humans and influenced their genetic development. RC cells are not normal for humans, but the humans of the Tokyo Ghoul universe do not understand that because it seems to be the only thing they have ever known. An RC count of 200 - 500 is considered healthy and average. I believe RC cells are much like the viruses that inhabit the human genome; they’re something that’s been there all along in the Tokyo Ghoul universe.

I believe ghouls aren’t the result of just an entirely new species developing entirely separately but coincidentally being mirror replicas of humans down to anatomy, blood types, thought patterns, bone structures, and their ability to swap organs, but rather something that is the result of the RC cells in the system mutating them into new entities over time. RC cells, like the Blacklight virus, are very mutagenic. Unlike the Blacklight virus, I see most of these changes as being more gradual in the line of human -> ghoul.

It would go human - > human with “special investigator genes” (with RC cells that normal human levels but ghoul quality) -> human with “special investigator genes” and latent ROS genes having children with someone in the same position -> ghoul who cannot use a kagune (such as G&G) -> ghoul who can use a kagune -> ghoul with kakuja mutation genes - > ghoul with kakuja genes having children with kakuja genes - > kakuja

It’s more complex than that because of the way Ishida spread the information about with regards to ghoul and human biology. There’s also a lot of stuff that goes into that, with regards to ROS in both humans and ghouls, and stuff that I feel needs to be expanded upon. Eg stuff about the Oggai’s Frame A/Frame B divide, Nutcracker’s RC levels being listed as explicitly two separate types, kagunes and kakujas showing a consistent pattern of having traits of two RC types, Urie’s One Eye (Frame A)/Two Eye (Frame B), the Washuu breeding program, and how this all factors together (in the way I see it).

To get back to Blacklight and the similarities, I said this in the post you’re referring to, but I don’t think the Dragon toxin caused “ROS like symptoms”, I think the Dragon just caused ROS by increasing the RC cell levels of anyone it touched while introducing Washuu “born kakuja” genetics that can apparently form extra kakuhou pretty easily. Because there was so many cases, there was too many people to treat at once, and therefore they turned into ghouls. Usually, because the disease is so rare and much slower, it’s more controllable.

Shirazu’s sister, for example, didn’t have her ROS caused by RC cells from something so severe and there weren’t hundreds of thousands of other people who were infected, so Haru’s ROS was both slower and the resources to control it were more readily available.

When it comes to DX1118 and its variants, and RC Cells, I’m of the opinion that they work in different methods, but the effects are similar. Blacklight’s origin and true purpose is greatly muddled due to the way Prototype is written. Like Tokyo Ghoul, multiple pieces of information are ambiguous or outright lies.

There were many differing stories about what the true purpose of the Blacklight virus was - ranging from some type of super human serum meant to increase human strength and intellect, to a weapon designed to kill off specific ethnic groups, to some evolutionary compound meant to force the planet to change into a new being, to some form of inevitability that would have to be engaged regardless. This makes a lot of the information involved murky; this is actually acknowledged in universe as being completely intentional. The actual origins of DX1118 isn’t stated, as far as we can tell from the information given, it just sort of popped up out of nowhere.

The origin of RC cells is also shrouded in mystery. Ghouls are a worldwide phenomenon, so, logically, RC cells should be universal. Otherwise, ghouls would not be able to feed. It is also stated that a normal, healthy human being has between 200 - 500 RC cells, which implies that not having any RC cells is considered either unhealthy or abnormal. I’d speculate that RC cells themselves would therefore have to be either hundreds of thousands of years old and tied to the evolution of humans in the Tokyo Ghoul universe, or, spread like a contagion. The Washuu themselves became “born Kakujas” due to centuries of cannibalization before they even made it to Japan, and by the the time the Washuu became known as legendary human ghoul hunters, they were already almost indistinguishable from the local population and were identified as Japanese nobility.

So, their origins are rather different, but they have the same air of mystery about them, and they touch on similar topics. The methods they get used is different, but the conspiracy has significant overlap.

The way Blacklight works when it infects a host is via changing the host cell by activating the non-coding regions of the genome. A substantial chunk of the human genome is actually believed to be now dormant viruses that infected our ancestors, who survived them, and lived on to procreate. In Prototype, this translates to the virus mutating the human body to achieve superhuman abilities, in theory? In actuality, the failure rates of the virus are rather substantial. But if you reword it, 99.9% lethality rate translates to a .1% success rate.

TG;re 44

These failure rates are comparable to the original Kanou kakuhou transplantation procedure, if less survivable. (This isn’t including the 99.999% lethality variant or the one that was made to be 10x more lethal and mutagenic than that). The failure rates for the Kanou procedure are substantial, but even the failures are reminiscent of the Blacklight “Runners” that are seen moving around the city - though that feels like it’s the result of the “zombies” theme.

TG;re 1

While I don’t recall if it’s ever stated how the DX1120 virus differs from the DX1118 variants, the D-Codes work using similar logic to the Qs and Oggai. Both use the “power of their enemy” to fight back against them, rather than using technology such as firearms. The description of the D-Codes is essentially the same as the Qs. They use the virus to increase their metabolism, strength, durability, and even regenerative functions.

The effort put into this biology system seemed immense, and the way the information is sprinkled in seems very organic.

There was other stuff about similarities between Arima and Cross, Blackwatch and V, Elizabeth Green and Roma/Eto/Rize, but I feel like that’s a bit off topic from the question, and I think this would have been answered immediately had I not tried to explore all of those avenues. I tried to keep this more on topic to the question, but I feel the flow regardless suffered. This is kinda the issue I have with ghoul biology stuff that threw a wrench into the post. It makes sense when you look at the big picture, but taking it all separately and dispersing it to a single point makes it seem nonsensical.

I kind of hope that explains it better. I’m going to try to revisit the ghoul biology post and just sorta accept that it’s not going to flow as easily as a character analysis post because it’s more technical in nature and the information is scattered between hundreds of chapters.

edit:

oh wait, forgot something.

Also, on a more random note, what would you think if there were a one-eyed ghoul featured in the series who was like Alex Mercer?

I think about this concept a lot. The idea of an Alex Mercer like character unwrapping things in Tokyo Ghoul sounds like an interesting concept. When you mean like Alex Mercer, you mean an AOEG that is trying to unravel the mysteries involved, and any time they eat someone’s RC cells, they get the knowledge inside of them type of deal? Alex Mercer as he is in the original Prototype would likely work with Aogiri Tree. Alex Mercer as he is in Prototype 2 would probably become a member of the Clowns as an actual member, or one of the philosophical Clowns that end up screwing over Kaneki and helping out the Clowns, like Yamori or Chie Hori.

Prototype Alex Mercer would probably start off opposed to both the CCG and Aogiri Tree, assuming you’re starting him off in Tokyo without his memories. He seems like he’d end up getting played, set up, and gaslighted by the Clowns like Kaneki, Eto, and Mutsuki were. I imagine Mercer would quickly turn sides though once they realizes V exists and they’d probably set their sights on killing off the Clowns. tbh Mercer would probably succeed. Alex Mercer’s mindset means initially they’re going to be dancing in the palm of their hands, but the powerset means it’s only a matter of time before everything gets revealed. Dealing almost solely in deception, gaslighting, and emotional manipulation is kind of an awful idea against a guy who can piece things together and blow your entire conspiracy to pieces. This would be like a “Karen Parker” situation, only the Clowns aren’t really used to hiding so much as sitting out in the open and none of them would be strong enough to beat someone with Alex Mercer’s powerset even in ghoul form tbh.

He’d probably join Aogiri Tree and Goat in the long run, even if briefly. The story would go off the rails long before Goat would form, though.

Alex Mercer at the end of Prototype is a different beast entirely but also kinda hard to figure out; the original writer wasn’t involved with a lot of the stuff after, and the Prototype 2 Alex Mercer feels like the original got consumed by like the Supreme Hunter and it just decided to wear his skin. Prototype 2 was originally Spiderman 4 before it was reskinned to be Protoype 2 so like everything was already set up and in place and it’s obvious that Father G was Uncle Ben, Mercer was Dr. Octavius, Heller was Peter, “viral sonar” is spidersense, etc. The writer that took over apparently hated Alex Mercer, from what I was told by people who talked to the guy. Isn’t really a good thing to go into writing with. Salt towards Alex Mercer being demonized is kinda universal. Heller had some good moments, but I felt his character was wasted. Wish the game just stayed as Spiderman 4, and Prototype 2 was on the Xbox One/PS4 rather than what Activision forced Radical to do.

I guess you could say that Prototype 2 is to the original Prototype what the anime is to Tokyo Ghoul.

But, we can infer things. It’s likely Mercer would be distrustful of everyone due to the experience with the Supreme Hunter, but very unsure of themselves. Automatic opposition to the scary conspiracy group is guaranteed. There’s an automatic opposition to killing indiscriminately from a character perspective even if the game doesn’t punish you for it; by the end, Alex is even fed up with killing soldiers who aren’t commanders. I’m not sure if he’d join up with Aogiri. Aogiri avoided civilian population centers and kept their targets military in nature, yes. On the other hand, they also just told ghouls like Torso “yo, knock it off, the CCG will getcha” and they let the Clowns or ghouls like Big Madam roam free and even worked with them, even if in the later case it was related to trying to see if Takizawa would awaken Haise’s memories.

Goat is a possibility. Kaneki’s strategy of disarming the CCG would probably be something Alex Mercer would go for. I imagine he’d also just go right for Furuta’s throat. The only reason this wasn’t done in the original Prototype was because Blackwatch’s commander was on the Reagan and was shooting anyone who got close out of the sky. Canonically the WOI does confirm an attempt to just fly therw with a helicopter only to get intercepted, and Alex also mentions that when they have their conversation with the Supreme Hunter.

Most likely though, Alex Mercer would end up working with Hide’s group and helping Kurona if he finds out about Kurona’s story. Especially Kurona. She’s simultaneously after a mad scientist who turned her into a monster, and she’s also Dana’s age. I see him helping her in her quest to get back at Kanou. With Hide, Alex sorta uses any help he can get, and Hide seems like he’d find Mercer because he’s just that good.

I think they would work with Eto if Eto opened up to them but.. Eto doesn’t really open up to people unless they violently maim her, like Kaneki or Arima. She might end up becoming interested in Alex if Alex starts trying to kill her, like Kaneki, but man. That’s not healthy.

Prototype 2 Alex Mercer, like I said, would likely be on board with the Clowns, but probably only from a philosophical sense. He agrees with their surface level stuff - the world is awful, people need to be killed, nothing matters, releasing giant monsters that kill millions is hilarious, innocent people deserve to be tortured, children are fair game, cause terror for lols, work with the conspiracy that controls the world while also killing its members because that’s fun and convenient, etc. Whether or not he ends up joining them outright or being like Yamori or Horie is up in the air, but I imagine he’d not be allowed. Furuta’s very good at analysis so I assume he’d see Alex as a threat from the get go and would keep him at a distance at all times.

Most likely it would end up in some weird battle with Mercer and Furuta being the main combatants just screwing with each other using secret agents, and Kaneki’s just. Kaneki. And gets stuck in the middle of it, just barely surviving. P2′s Mercer’s “here’s free viral powers kids” probably translates to kakuho implantation that’s even more casual than Eto’s, and his ability to just fire off viral clouds everywhere would most likely translate to him having the ability to just blast Dragon toxin. Alex in P2 gyrates pretty violently between “invincible and impossibly incompetent” to “literally so incompetent he gives the person trying to kill him the power to kill him and slowly feeds him powerups while letting them ruin his plans before stepping in and immediately giving up once a single attempt to murder them doesn’t work and then decides to go back to feeding them powerups until they can kill him” so.

I’m not sure if he’d like, do what Furuta did to Kaneki and give him the power to kill him, only entirely on purpose instead of accidentally, or if he’d just. Instantly vaporize all of his opponents.

He probably gives Eto, Kaneki, and Mutsuki power ups and then goes around trying to piss them off while claiming he’d trying to destroy V and Furuta. And he would actually, really, be trying to stop V and Furuta, but also he wouldn’t be, and he’s be working with them, but he wouldn’t.

He’d go to America, kill Heller’s family, and then turn Heller into a OEG that kills him.

You didn’t mention Heller, but there’s no way he’d be okay with V or the Clowns or probably even Anteiku (because Anteiku okayed set up civilian hunting grounds). He’d also oppose Aogiri Tree for the same reasons I think post Prototype 1 Alex would, but he might work with them like he did Rooks if he saw them as useful. The moment Furuta marches out the Oggai, if it came to that, he’d probably just go right for Furuta. The only reason Heller doesn’t do this with Mercer is because Mercer is hiding, but otherwise he’s pretty keen on just going to his current target and punching them in the face out in broad daylight surrounded by witnesses. And turning a bunch of children into the Oggai and having them go around slaughtering people would definitely set Heller off.

The story would also go off the rails.

I mean if you mean a One Eyed Ghoul with amnesia running around NYC slowly unraveling the secret surrounding V’s American Branch in the form of Blackwatch and imaging a scenario? I think that would be pretty cool, personally.

TG 141

There’s a lot of potential for a Tokyo Ghoul game in the style of Prototype. A lot of the powers that work in Prototype feel like they’d feel right at home in Tokyo Ghoul and vice verse. Eg the wallrunning could be explain with kagune wallrunning that Eto and Kaneki show. You could have a spiritual successor to Cross and some overarching super ghoul investigator counterpart to Arima, but his thing would be entirely different?

TG 112, 138

Less Arima’s “this literally doesn’t make sense, how did Arima hit that attack, he’s literally not holding anything and how did he just shoot lightning out of his quinque that can’t shoot lightning when he’s got that quinque in a box I originally thought this was an art mistake but he literally just keeps doing impossible things and they’re even lampshading in the manga so wait did he pull out Narukami and put it back into the box just to troll???”

(I think ishida does stuff like this where he messes with things like this for artistic reasons in this case it entirely works and helps hit home how invincible Arima is, and I originally thought it was art mistakes but it’s not)

And more “Shinohara, but on steroids”. Cross in Prototype was a very maneuverable surprisingly well armed opponent who could take a beating relative to most other enemies you faced outside of, for example, the Supreme Hunter. Similar type of opponent but also different. Like have the guy use multiple +SS and SSS rate quinques as standard, and he’s also got an SSS rate kakuja quinque and he can take a beating because of it, too. Not that he’s unskilled; he’s very skilled, just less so than Arima. Maybe have him also be the final boss like Arima was the final boss in the original Tokyo Ghoul, but just make him an absolute monster that completely and utterly destroys people. Maybe even have it be a no win scenario to fight the guy? Have it come up that “oh well this guy right here is attacking your friends but if you fight him, you’re going to die no matter what, don’t risk it” and you have a choice and if you choose to fight him, the game switches genres to horror and you just die. Not an easy fight to die in either.

They should definitely make a game about that. Just, spiritual successor to the original Prototype and have Detwiller and Ishida just run wild with the insane conspiracy theory story and their under the radar references to their knowledge of the military, economics, Kafka, numbers, trolling, and Lovecraft.

Just make the story impossible to understand, you know? You have to find 248 different cutscenes to get part of the story explicitly, and to unlock some of the cutscenes you have to hack into the game code to pull out poems made out of ASCII images of Ishida’s art. But to get the art, you have to pull a bunch of stuff off of twitter, relatively obscure secondary material, and some of it has to be found long after the launch of the game. Like, just maybe throw a random string of numbers into an art book released a year after the game was launched and have the numbers related to the code just hidden and you just... can’t find them? But only maybe, you’re not sure.

Throw Walt Williams from Spec Ops: The Line in there too. Have him contribute. All decisions are simultaneously wrong and correct at the same time. Nothing makes sense - but it totally does. You know what you’re doing is wrong. Or do you? None of these horrors would have happened if you’d just stopped, but you can’t stop. Not now, not when you’re so close. This person you’re pursuing, they’re definitely the bad guy. You’re in the clear. You’re not being tricked, you’re not mistaken, you made these decisions rationally. Your friends are in danger, you’re not bringing danger to them.

You feel so powerful and then boom, it happens. snap back to reality. And you should have seen it coming, but you didn’t. It’s not that it wasn’t there, it’s just that you weren’t looking - you decided “I’m not going to look”. You ignored what was right in front of you for some silly fantasy and it all hurts so much and oh god, everything is burning, help help help. Why didn’t anyone listen, I feel so alone.

and then have another spinoff spiritual successor flip from tokyo to new york in a surprise twist and it turns out that you were just starring in the villains’ self insert selfcest genderbender trollfic the e n t i r e t i m e or something it’s ambiguous I guess you gotta figure it out and no one will believe you and everything is just trolling

#tokyo ghoul #prototype #tg meta #tokyo ghoul biology #quinx #blacklight virus #Red child cells.#tokyo ghoul meta #superryunosukeyuki #alex mercer #Captain Cross #Arima Kishou

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slaapkat · 4 years

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Parallax 👀👀

I’m going to make this about parallax!hal because I have a LOT to say about him

How I feel about this character

MY UNDYING LOVE FOR HIM KNOWS NO BOUNDS, MY TOP PROBLEMATIC FAV. YES i am a hal apologist BUT WITH GOOD REASON. I could talk for days about parallax and all my concepts for him, I love exploring the intricacies of his mental break and the different ways his actions as parallax might have been influenced by more than just the run of the mill demon possession. no one will listen to me.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

ordinarily I ship hal with sinestro but given that hal. uh. kills him dead in a pretty spectacular fashion right before becoming parallax it’s more or less out of the picture. so. hal/his sanity.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

carol and tom. i liked the way hal comes to say bye to them during Emerald Night. maybe kyle if pressed, since he’s literally the only person to ever like. try giving hal a chance.

My unpopular opinion about this character

parallax being retconned as solely some fear bug to absolve hal from all responsibilities IS dumb BUT im willing to keep it IF instead of pure possession it’s constructed more along the lines of parasitic zombification: horsehair worms, cordyceps, Leucochloridium. makes the body horror aspect of it MUCH more enthralling and also just adds to the horror of it all generally. hal gets to be losing his mind and losing control of his actions without knowing why, and parallax the fear entity still gets to be a thing. I think there’s a LOT more to be explored than just “Hal goes mad”, like in Sleepers book three with the reoccurring theme of comparing hal as parallax to an alcoholic. I see his time as parallax as more of a steady mental decline as the infection in him got worse.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon

I WISH IT WAS EVEN A THING THAT STILL GETS BROUGHT UP. THE 2005 GL RUN HAS OTHER PEOPLES DISTRUST OF HAL DUE TO PARALLAX BROUGHT UP AT SEVERAL TIMES AND FOR GOOD REASON. MAKE PARALLAX CANON AGAIN. LET HAL HAVE VISIBLE TRAUMA RESULTING FROM IT. IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN BROUGHT UP IN HIS CONFESSION IN HIC. I wish parallax was a parasitic infection that gradually made hal worse over time and I wish more people had actually stopped and like. tried to help hal during his time as parallax rather than just going “your evil and must be stopped!”

Most of all, I wish hals grey temples were made PERMANENT as a consequence of parallax, partially to serve as a constant reminder and partially to serve as his one visible scar from it all. plus it was a good look generally.

#parallax #parallax hal #parallax hal jordan #hal jordan #green lantern #ask #subtitle for this ask: old man yells at cloud

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unidentifiedflamingbastard · 4 years

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Eldritch Infections

I’ve touched on this subject very briefly in old posts (that frankly need to be updated), and I honestly feel like I have not discussed it enough. Eldritch infection is a topic that is near and dear to my heart, and is an utter fascination to me. Before I continue however, I want to note that like all my posts this information is based off my own observations and the observations of others. Therefore, this is all UPG and take from it what you will.

Introduction

So, eldritch entities are weird by their very nature, and their energy reflects this. It is somewhat aware and responds too stimuli, but it is questionable if it is truly capable of thought on its own. The manner in which eldritch energy spreads is rather aggressive as well. Many times it requires something to infect or infest. I hesitate to say that eldritch energy must have a living host to infect, as it can also be found infesting environments and infecting corpses. Eldritch energy can be compared to other organisms that we are familiar with but, due to the way non-reality energies function eldritch energy defies most basic explanations. From what I’ve been able to gather eldritch energy acts like a mixture of a virus or parasite combined with a neural network or hive mind. The energy infects or infests in order to spread but as it grows it is able to communicate and function also as a large super-organism. This is similar but, not the same as, the formation of what eldritch works have labeled the entities we call Shoggoths; but that is for another post. The communication between the parts of the strain infecting separate entities is present even if they are not immediately connected. For example, if two people are infected by the same strain, the infecting strain is still able to communicate even if those separate units are in different rooms. It is unclear how this occurs or how far apart the strain must be from other parts to cease communication.

Alignment vs. Infection

Before I continue on to the two main types of infection, I want to make mention of eldritch alignment. Infection and alignment are two very different things. Those who are aligned with eldritch energy can safely handle and work with their own strain. They have taken eldritch energy into themselves, and have “bonded” with it as a host of sorts. Think of it like your personal microflora and fauna on/in your physical body. Safe for you but potentially hazardous to others. BECOMING ALIGNED IS DANGEROUS! Alignment is like a transplant of sorts. The eldritch energy has to accept you and you/your energy-body has to accept the eldritch energy. As far as I know this is all up to chance. Failure to align would most likely result in a horrific infection. Consider yourself warned. One final note: with the exception of the creation of Deepones, eldritch aligned people that I have met have ALL been shards. Which is interesting.

Types of Eldritch Infection

Each eldritch strain is unique and possess its own characteristics and quirks. However, when it comes to infection types there appears to be two main methods: physical infection and psychic infection. Both forms are dangerous and nasty, but their effects are different enough to warrant discussion.

Physical Infection:

Physical strains act more like a virus than psychic strains do. I say this because these strains need direct contact in order to spread, hence the physical aspect of the infection. Physical infections also commonly result in horrific mutations to the astral or energy body. Please note that these infections are infections of your astral and/or energy body. You are not going to physically grow tentacles on your body, that is impossible on this plane of existence. The main function of this form of infection is to “consume and convert.” Once the infection is in an astral or energy body it begins to consume it in order to fuel its own propagation. The method in which this form of infection can spread can be as nasty as a bite or a tendril shoved into your energy body, to simply coming in contact with in while in astral. The rate and growth of infection seems to vary between strains, but typically older more power eldritch entities have more virulent strains. Infection is often the cause of the madness that is so commonly seen with eldritch interactions. In the case of spirits/entities physical infections can lead to them becoming rabid or sometimes zombie like in behavior. This serves to further spread the infection via contact, and is why I often compare physical infections to that of a virus. So how do you know if you have an infection of a physical strain? Luckily we have physical bodies and the plane of existence we live in functions differently than the realms of the spirits we interact with; meaning you won’t go crazy and try to eat someone’s face. Hooray! However, a physical infection in one’s energy body can be very detrimental to them on a metaphysical level. Think of it as the worst possible energy parasite you could have. It will attack your energy body and try to replace your energy with itself. If left unchecked it could completely cripple a person’s ability to do energy work, sense spirits, destroy your astral body, and so on. Thankfully infection cannot kill/maim/mutated or otherwise harm your physical human form, but it should still be taking seriously if you are doing any form of metaphysical practice or are around those who do. Just having this stuff in/on you is enough for it to spread.

Psychic Infection:

This form of infection is more subtle than physical infections but is no less dangerous. To make matters worse this form of infection does not require contact to spread. Now to be honest I know precious little about psychic infections as I have rarely encountered them. These strains infect through a form of memetic or cognitohazard like method. This means they have to be perceived in order to spread. This is most likely where some of the madness from seeing certain entities comes from. The crawling and clawing sensations in the mind, the voices, nightmares, the gradual slipping of one’s sanity. All that fun stuff. You can see this with physical strains as well, but in general mutations are more common in physical strains, and the above is more common in psychic. Also remember physical must have contact to infect. A good example of a psychic strain would be infection via the Yellow Sign in literature; if you don’t know what that is feel free to look it up. Psychic infections do not consume to convert but rather control to convert. Once a person is infected they might not immediate recognize what has happened, or what has infected them. Symbols, phrases or songs, a picture of the entity the strain is from, and so on can all lead to psychic infection. I want to note here that the only psychic infections I have seen have come directly form eldritch entities that are generally considered gods. I do not know if this is only seen in gods, or if this form of infection is just rare. If you have a psychic infection the signs may be subtle at first. Mood changes, feelings of being watched, feeling compelled to carry out certain tasks, and general paranoia are common beginning signs. As the infection continues you will feel further pushed to carry out certain tasks that would allow the infection to spread such as sharing whatever it was you originally perceived to others. This can be done in different and creative ways, such as a writing and performing a play. The King in Yellow references aside, please for the love of the gods don’t just assume because you are paranoid or experiencing mood changes that you have an eldritch infection. You are human, or at the very freaking least inhabiting a human body with a human brain. You live in/on a physical plane of existence, go see a doctor before EVER assuming it is something metaphysical.

Wrapping up

So there you have it. A very basic run down of eldritch infections. Each strain brings its own flavor and characteristics, and sometimes there can be overlap in psychic and physical symptoms. The simplest way to remember which is which is the manner of infection. Physical must have contact, psychic does not require contact but is spread through perception and ideas. On occasion there may be a strain that can spread both by psychic and physical infection, however I have only ever seen gods do this. When dealing with eldritch energy it is always best to cleanse yourself, your area, and check any spirits around you. Remember, this energy wants to spread and is very good at doing so.

#energy work #eldritch energy #eldritch entities #eldritch work #long post #long AF post #I think this is the longest bloody post I have ever made

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