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samarecharm · 17 days

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i love makoto so much but fanon does her so much better (the good parts of the fandom) because in the game her character is so lack luster. they butchered her confidant it is so borning and not even about her. they made her a cop. A COP. they pushed this "canon waifu" role onto her (before sumire came along and did it Even Worse). and it SUCKS because SHE IS SO MUCH MORE!!! SHE IS SO MUCH BETTER!!!! SHE COULD'VE BEEN SO MUCH BETTER!!! the way i feel about canon makoto is the same way i feel about the canon ryuji events post komoshida where he's horribly mistreated and used purely as comic relief: i ignore them <3 my game now <3 never happened <3 my ocs <3

You are so right. I generally apply this to all characters in p5 bc the game does such a shit job of staying consistent with character arcs and personalities. Theres a desperate need to throw in perverse jokes at the expense of female characters and a need to show that the police (as a whole) are reliable people who are not influenced by things like money and power; only the BAD cops do that. Not to mention this obvious fatphobia and homophobia but i feel likes thats a given.

But back to Makoto. Shes a victim of bad writing just like everyone else. Ryuji during the kamoshida arc was fighting with self loathing and genuine anxiety, and aside from the like. One comment on Panthers outfit in the metaverse, hes more than well behaved. All of that is shelved as soon as Kamoshida is gone and replaced with him being weird comic relief (and the focus of alot of sexual jokes that were nonexistent in the beginning of the game). Anns arc about self love and empowerment is completely dropped as soon as the nasty bad guy is put away (so that its good to be weird about her w the Good Guys). Makoto loses her a chunk of her personality to be the mature waifu which is INSANE to me bc shes like. Not okay or normal at all 😭😭😭 she THINKS shes responsible and so does everyone else on her team, but its an act! She doesnt know shit! And she doesnt know that she doesnt know shit bc shes respectful and adults dont care about anything as long as u respect them!

Its very telling that for literally every single thief (and goro), you can see the exact moment the writers gave up on adding anything of worth to their characters outside of the social links. Its like they didnt know what to even do w the characters at their disposal after their main arcs were complete. No mention of friends hanging out without you, no mention of having group hangouts. Everyone is treated as a core, important member of the friend group DURING their arc, but outside of it, they are acquaintances at best. Theres nothing in the game that convinces you that these guys are legitimately friends who care for each other and do Friend Things. And i describe it like that bc there IS a game that treats them all as friends, and its strikers! Strikers/Scramble genuinely feels like the game p5 wanted to be; a road trip w your team where they stay up at night talking to each other and hanging out and doing things together that dont necessarily include you, the player. Its refreshing and lovely but it sucks that u get that kind of attention to detail in a ‘spinoff’ title

#chattin #i hesitate to use spinoff bc its a pretty big game #and theres an amazing plot with wonderful characterization #and their handling of jails and jail owners is LEAGUES better than the bs they tried to make up w palace users #and all the thieves feel like family. and not in the annoying fandom way; like #were family in the same way a family is forged and tended to. i love you. no one is left behind. no one is made to feel inferior another #its really good and honestly if u want more interactions between everyone i really recommend a playthrough #but yeah #p5 sucks #i love it but i love the version of it i made in my head LMAO #maybe p5r did a better job w the dialogue and some questionable scenes #(i wouldnt know. i didnt play it lol)#so maybe thats what people need to be using as a point of reference #but i only plyed p5 so this is what i have; a group of people who show up for meetings and then go about their life #and that kinda sucks. why make this wholly unique experience in which these teens can only relate to each other #make them bonded over their shared experience w this unbelievable world #and then not only make them NOT interact; but have the end be ‘okay by akira.’ and leave it at that #they just. didnt know what to do w anyone #they needed their girls to be waifubait and the boys to be an afterthought #they needed a buffet of older woman for pathetic men to fuck through their self insert #and they needed a story convoluted enough to keep people stuck trying to figure it out themselves #its bad. its so bad. its so fucking bad. but i have to be here. WE have to be here.#bc who else is going to take these characters out of hell and treat them right ??!!!

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writereleaserepeat · 9 months

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Chemical Romance

Loosely inspired by @justplainwhump's story Pet Safety. In Pet Safety, the MC drops some details that suggest Romantics in their universe can be chemically altered to need another person nearby. I thought this was a brilliant idea and ran with it for a short story (that I haven't really edited or revised, fuck it we ball).

Summary: After countless trials and many failed experiments, X001 is the first chemically-altered Romantic available for sale. The scientist responsible watches over his subject as she is introduced to her buyer - and carefully-tailored chemical match - for the first time. X001 soon learns what it's like to need someone more than she needs life itself.

CW: institutionalized slavery, implied medical whump, chemical modifications, fade to black noncon/dubcon

X001 knelt patiently on the plush carpet beside the chaise. She could sense that her handler wasn’t quite as patient, particularly with the way he kept twisting the leash between his fingers, a gentle tug on her collar each time.

Perhaps her handler was just as excited as she was. Not just excited, but nervous. X001 hadn’t been this nervous since her first days in training. Today she was going to meet her new owner, her Master, the very person she had been working so hard to learn how to please. A chill ran up X001’s spine, a sensation she was barely able to swallow down. She couldn’t let her nerves show, not now, not when it mattered the most.

Voices murmured outside the door, warm words running together, the comforting hum of idle conversation. No commands came for her, not yet. X001 was certain if there was a command, she wouldn’t miss it. Every sense was attuned to her handler, and soon, to her Master. Her handler had told X001 that if her new Master was satisfied with their trial, she would get to go home with them.

Home was what she had been working so hard towards, wasn’t it? It's what she was made for.

---

“As you can see, ’01 is a physically spectacular specimen,” Val said as he gestured towards the one-way glass. The girl knelt unmoving where she was nestled in the thick pile of the carpet, her posture perfect, and her brilliant green eyes fixed glassily on some distant point. As unflattering as the training facility uniforms could be, it was hard to mistake the delicacy of her petite figure, and impossible to tear one’s eyes from the thick russet curls that cascaded down her shoulders.

At least, that’s what Val had been told to regurgitate from the facility’s marketing materials.

“That’s why I chose her,” the buyer said, his gaze transfixed on the subject, not once turning his attention back to Val.

Perhaps Val would have been irritated if he was in marketing. But that wasn't his business, never had been. He continued, unbothered.

“As you’ve surely been reminded by the purchasing agent, X001 is the first product available for sale with these particular modifications. Although our experimental models have shown great success and promise, there is no guarantee that X001 will perform to specifications.” Val also regurgitated this, all but verbatim, from the materials he’d been given. He wasn’t a salesman, no, he was a scientist.

It had been years of hard work and tireless nights. It had been dozens of destroyed products, specimens that were ruined beyond refurbishment, and millions of dollars of company money poured into equipment and supplies. It had been begging his superiors for another chance, promising them that he would make the company's next cash cow.

Eventually, it had also been a success.

“I hear you,” the buyer said, the patience in his voice slipping. “I’ve been told that same thing at least ten times now. I think it's worth the risk, especially for a pretty thing like that.”

Val’s grip on his pen tightened. He’d waited for this moment for many months now, and it was finally here. It was time to prove himself.

His heart thundered inside his chest, and Val nodded to himself as much as the buyer.

“Very well. Are you ready for your trial to begin?”

Lust dripped from the buyer’s tongue as he answered.

“Absolutely.”

---

A clicking tone came through the intercom, a sound which seemed to signal something to X001’s handler. She didn’t move as he unclipped the leash from the ring on her collar and pulled away. He took a single step, then paused, and she felt his hand rest gently on the top of her head.

“Remember your training. Don’t disappoint me, ’01.”

“Yes, sir.” The demure whisper was one she’d practiced until she’d become hoarse, but today, it was as smooth as honey. X001 was merely grateful it hadn’t cracked under the nerves that strained her body.

The comfort of the hand disappeared. Her handler exited the room, leash in hand, leaving X001 alone.

She knew what came next. It would settle in her stomach within the next thirty seconds, and over the course of five minutes, it would buzz throughout her body like electricity. That insatiable longing, the primal need to be close to a human person, would begin to broil to the surface. Her skin would get covered in gooseflesh, like she had been plunged into an ice bath.

To be isolated like this, utterly alone in a room, would slowly become agony.

X001 thought back briefly to the time before her body had been weaponized. Early in training, before she’d been dragged to the medical wing every morning for new injections and infusions, she hadn’t felt like this. She could be alone in her cell for hours, sometimes days, and be perfectly content with the solitude. Not just content, but grateful.

That had changed, though, and she didn’t know why. They'd done something. Something she'd never have the privilege of understanding.

All X001 did know was that she needed someone. She needed them now, at her side, before the pain in her chest became unbearable. Her handler, a different handler, her Master. Anyone would be enough to settle the unease.

---

“As you can see,” Val explained as gestured towards the subject that sat beyond the glass, “we’ve engineered a nervous response upon isolation from human contact.”

It had hardly been a minute since Handler Jones had left the room, and already X001 was trembling where she knelt. Muscles strained beneath her supple, tanned skin; her effort was apparent as she tried to keep still. Those stunning green eyes, once unblinking, now fluttered nervously.

The warmth in his stomach spread as he watched his experiment succeed, fulfilling his decade of promises to his superiors. Val continued his explanation eagerly.

“Part of this response is conditioning, and part of it is the chemical manipulation I discussed earlier. Her very brain chemistry and nervous system function have been altered to make her not just crave human contact, but require it for survival. The moment you walk in, you should notice her relax. She’ll be inseparable from you. Even in her sleep she’ll reach out for you, her body telling her that she needs your touch.”

The buyer hummed beneath his breath, and he watched ’01 tremble with a languid smile.

“And what if I do leave her alone?”

“That, sir, would be one of the most painful things you could do to her.”

---

Seconds became minutes, and the aching in X001’s chest mounted. Her heart fluttered uncontrollably, her muscles ached, and her head spun. Her training slipped away so easily when she got like this, when she was alone. The only thought she could hold on to was the thought of touching someone, curling up against their body, sinking against their naked skin. It was the only cure for her present sickness.

She dug her fingernails into the soft skin of her palms. Her hands were still folded neatly in front of her, but the subtle flexing gave her something to distract from the pain wracking her body.

No, it wasn’t pain, not exactly. She knew pain, she’d grown accustomed to it. This sensation was need. It was like thirst, or hunger, or desperation for air. Every part of her thrummed in its cadence.

Then the door handle clicked open.

It took all of X001’s training not to throw herself at the man who’d walked into the room. In an instant the discomfort in her body began to ebb, but the fluttering of her heart continued. She wanted to be touched, held, comforted. It was the only cure for the ache deep in her bones.

Although she hadn’t looked up at the man’s face – she wasn’t permitted to – she was drawn in by the intricate designs on his well-polished shoes. The well-tailored pants and unscuffed leather dripped with and air luxury, and a scent of burnt vanilla and whiskey seemed to follow as he entered.

The man sat down on the chaise beside X001, and she had to clench her teeth to stop from leaning into him. Her handler had made it incredibly clear that she was to remain in position, as perfect as she had been trained, until she was granted reprieve. She listened attentively, straining for the sound of a command, hearing as he settled into the soft plush of the furniture, then-

“Release. Come up here with me.”

X001 didn’t need to be told twice.

---

Val couldn’t help but smile, his cheeks aching as he watched years of work pay off before his eyes. ’01 slunk up onto the couch with that effortless fluidity all Romantics were trained in. She slid into the spot beside the buyer’s body, already cozy against his chest without a moment of hesitation. Her chin tucked against his collarbone, her nose buried against his neck, and her body shifted with a deep sigh.

“Shit, she never had this reaction with the test sticks you had us use in training,” Handler Jones said with disbelief.

“That was a very low dose of the buyer’s pheromones,” Val explained, attention only partially on the handler. A mere handler could never understand the beauty and complexity of what was unfolding beyond the glass. “She’s never been given unrestricted access to the source. It must be overwhelming her.”

“Bitch better be able to remember what we’ve worked on these last few months,” the handler grumbled.

If she couldn’t, Val wouldn’t be surprised. The experimental models had been almost delirious when they were first introduced to their chemically engineered pheromone match. This had been the most successful of the chemical alterations he had been pioneering, and X001 was absolute proof of that.

All humans had this reaction, at least, to some extent. Despite having some of the weakest noses in the animal kingdom, the human body still sends messages to other humans in smelling distance. And in these messages the body conveys arousal, genetic compatibility, and desire.

What Val had done was nothing more than play with these senses inside a laboratory's sandbox. It had taken a couple of years of development and chemical tweaking, but Val had finally developed a course of treatments that would make the buyer’s scent irresistible to the product. The treatments overrode the product’s innate senses, the natural desire to find genetic compatibility, something that only the subconscious animal mind could know.

A few weeks of daily injections and that innate instinct was overwritten. The product's true nature had been wiped out, replaced instead with the extact chemical makeup of their new buyer. The scent of the buyer would be irresistible, intoxicating. It would immediately invoke lust, and when coupled with a Romantic's conditioning, it would naturally create the ideal product.

The waitlist for chemically-altered Romantics had already surpassed the waitlist for standard-issue Romantics. After all, who wouldn't want their perfect match, a divine creature that believed in its animal mind that its owner was its perfect match?

---

X001 had never experienced anything like it before. The scent flooding her senses was not merely sweet. Sweetness was something found in baked goods, or the treats that her handler snuck her when she was performing well. This was ambrosia, a full-body sensation that drew her ever-closer to the man on the chaise. It was like the space beside him had been built just for her.

No matter how close she drew herself to the man’s skin, she couldn’t get enough. It was all she could do not to drag her tongue across the hot flesh. She was burning with need, the urge to sink deep into him and never leave.

Hands ran through her hair, across her hips, but she hardly felt them. Instincts from her training took over and she let them move her body. All she cared about was getting closer, her skin warm with the desire for contact with his. All of X001’s instincts were filling her with the need to be with the man, a need even greater than her own need to breathe. It was beyond intoxicating.

Relief and pleasure coalesced as his smooth hands grabbed her hair, her waist, her neck. Bliss. Relief. The understanding in her mind that this was her purpose, and this man is exactly who she was meant for.

If this was truly her Master, she couldn’t imagine anything better.

---

"Hey, labcoat, isn't your job here done?" Handler Jones asked as the buyer began the more intimate engagements of his trial run with X001.

Val pursed his lips and reclined in the seat in front of the one-way mirror.

"I'd like to see the fruits of my labor in action. You've worked in X001 for what, four months? I've worked on this project for more than nine years. This is my moment, my success."

"Whatever you say, man," Handler Jones muttered. "Call me when the bitch has had her fun. I've got two new trainees to worry about, no need for me to watch the show."

Val merely waived the handler off. Solitude is what he needed now, the opportunity to bask in his own success. After all, he deserved it.

No, the thought idly as a grin crept onto his face, I deserve one of these for myself.

#whump #whump writing #tw noncon #whump community #whump one shot #anyway like... so human pheremones and stuff is not like... an actual sciencey thing like that #but this is fiction and I had fun ok???#I brushed over a lot of the 'science' on purpose lmaoooo I am not a stem girlie #we can all play pretend for a little here #anyway I LOVE the idea of chemically altering whumpees to need their whumpers #literally obsessed with it #also with the mad scientist man responsible for it who's out there somewhere adn we know it #thanks for the inspiration and make sure you go read Pet Safety #and sorry this is all I've got for X001/her new owner/Val #not planning to do anything more with them in particular #but might play around with this overall concept a little more #wow I am rambly in the tags huh

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