#mori's monster series

[moriiartist]

WRONG TURN (AT THE RIGHT TIME)

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PAIRING: Vampire!Ethoslab x GN!Reader

SUMMARY: It was simple, the arrangement you had with Gem. She would let you study in the library before it opened; you would be gone before her boss came in. So… how did you wind up with a vampire for a history tutor?

WARNINGS: Mild language, death mention, semi-graphic violence, non-consensual touching (you get manhandled a bit, nothing sexual), blood and injury, vampirism

A/N: Etho’s a little spooky in this one... had me feeling some type of way while I was writing him 🥴. This one is a bit longer than some of the other stuff I’ve written, and a bit scarier, but I hope y’all enjoy it anyways!

“Alright, time to pack up. You promised me you would be gone before my boss gets in, and the library opens in an hour.”

You jumped at the sound of a book slamming against the surface of the desk you were sitting at, jerking your head up and away from the paragraph you had been staring at for the past ten minutes. A figure loomed over you like the specter of death, impatiently drumming their fingertips against the flesh of their crossed arms. 

They- or rather, she- affixed you with a glare that could melt steel, green eyes flashing behind the thick rims of her glasses. It took a second longer for your sleep-deprived brain to boot up, but it was almost too easy at this point for you to recognize the face of the library’s chief archivist.

Rubbing at your burning eyes with a forefinger and thumb, you puffed a slow breath through your cheeks. After trying to read by the dim light of the desk lamp for God knows how many hours, they stung like hell. 

“Sorry, Gem. I must’ve lost track of time.”

The librarian, Gem, snorted but allowed her stern gaze to thaw, auburn hair rippling down her back as she tilted her head. “Are you sure you aren’t pushing yourself too hard? I know you want to finish up your degree, but I’m pretty sure you’ve studied here every day this week.” 

You chuckled dryly. Oh, she had no idea.

Your day job took up almost all of the ‘working day’ so to speak, leaving only the darkest hours of the night for you to attend college classes and catch up on homework. However, during those hours, there was nothing you could access beyond what little you could pirate on your shitty laptop and printed course material. 

Which is why Gem is the only thing standing between you and straight-up flunking college. 

Despite her devout adherence to the laws that governed your local city library, you had convinced her with a mix of bribery, guilt-tripping, and groveling to allow you to visit in the early hours before it opened. You were able to read and complete your assignments in peace, but most importantly: you were able to access legitimate, essential, official resources during the only time you had during the day to study.

You felt the muscles in your jaw twitch as you held your smile, hoping it didn’t look too vacant. Or desperate. 

“I’m fine, Gem. Just a bit tired.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Sorry- have you seen yourself? The bags under your eyes are big enough to carry my groceries.”

You winced.

“Can’t argue with you there.”

If you were being honest, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d gotten more than four hours of sleep in a row- and even that estimate was generous. You pivoted in your seat, making the tactical decision to retreat from Gem’s piercing gaze.

You sighed as you crammed as many books as possible into your backpack, forcing protesting muscles that had long remained stagnant into movement. Whatever didn’t fit you hefted in your arms, making a face halfway between a grimace and a look of abject horror as your back cracked under the weight.

Gem pursed her lips, and somehow you resisted the urge to groan. This was an old argument that the two of you had hashed and re-hashed ever since she’d let you come into the library during closing hours, and you were sick of having to defend yourself.

“You can’t keep burning the candle at both ends. You look like you’re going to keel over at any second.”

“Well,” you laughed airily, the lightness of your voice at odds with the abject exhaustion in your expression. “It’s not like there���s anything I can do. I need to earn my degree, and you know that night classes are the only thing I can afford to take.”

Pausing for a moment, you snorted. “Both literally and figuratively.”

“You’re going to kill yourself at this rate,” Gem sighed, her normally lively countenance as deadpan as she could make it.

“No, I don’t think so. Not if you get to me first.”

A beat of silence.

“... Fair enough.”

It was routine for you to haul your backpack onto your shoulders, Gem helping you with the straps, and wave a harried goodbye to Gem as you slipped out the library’s back door. At her insistence, you promised to text her when you returned to your apartment so she knew you had gotten back safely. 

You shivered, clutching your books tighter to your chest as the warmth of the indoors faded, leaving you to the mercy of Autumn’s chilled embrace. 

It was no exaggeration that your free hours landed squarely in the dead of night- because although you had been up for hours, the sky was still as dark as pitch. Only the barest hint of starlight shone through the inky blackness, and though logically, you knew it was because of light pollution, some part of you wondered if the entirety of the milky way had been swallowed whole.

While the library was laid deep within the city’s heart, it was directly at the center of the entertainment district. Meaning that, despite the late (or early) hour, the city streets surrounding the library were just as busy during the night as they were during the day. Restaurants, bars, nightclubs, and… other businesses lined the street, the light from their illuminated windows and neon signs shining like rainbows against the pavement.

Across the street, raucous laughter resounded from within a bar. The sound bounced eerily across the pavement and crowded walls of the buildings that rose like silhouettes from the ground. You flinched as you heard the sound of shattering glass, accompanied by loud cheering, wrinkling your nose against the sharp sting of early winter frost and the pungent scent of booze.

You quickened your pace, dodging and weaving through flocks of tourists that ranged from mildly inebriated to flat-out drunk, barely managing to keep yourself balanced under the awkward weight of your backpack. The idea of being caught up in whatever illicit business went down in the cramped alleyways and seedy taverns that garnished the area like sprinkles on a cake was far from appealing- especially with the whole ‘living alone’ thing.

At the next street, you finally made the turn that led you away from the throngs of frat boys and bar-flies into the residential areas that sprouted just a ways off from popular tourist destinations. 

Although you had made the journey countless times, it never ceased to startle you just how quickly the general cacophony of shouting and laughter faded away with a few blocks of distance. It was much, much quieter here; the only sounds were the gentle tap-tap-tap of your shoes against the concrete and the occasional rush of a car driving by.

Windows of houses looked more like dark, empty eyes as you passed them, and the further you got from the entertainment district, the easier it was to pretend that you were the only person on earth. A sharp gust of wind suddenly howled through the trees, rattling leaves and raking icy claws across your skin.

You gasped as a shiver snaked its way down your spine, instinctually clutching your books tighter to your chest in an effort to conserve warmth. Cursing softly, you shed through your coat pocket to find your phone, exclaiming in victory as your fingers wrapped around it. Clicking it open, you blinked in surprise once you spotted the time: 5:00 AM.

Huh. That was definitely waayyy later than you had originally expected… and you had to get to work at 8:30. A high-pitched whine rose in the back of your throat. 

Say goodbye to any chance you could’ve had at a (barely) decent sleep, because at this rate? It would be a miracle if you could get home in time to shower and eat.

You were so focused on your phone that you almost didn’t process the electric hum that filled the air, the lone streetlight ahead flickering in and out to the beat of your footsteps. Catching the flashing from your periphery, you glanced up with a frown. 

Now- you weren’t an electrician, or really anyone skilled in the engineering field, but… you were fairly certain that it shouldn’t be making that loud, electric humming noise. You halted in your steps, tilting your head and squinting your eyes at the malfunctioning lamp. It flickered one more time, weakly, before plunging you into shadow.

If you thought that the night was dark before, surrounded by light and the nightlife, it paled in comparison to the true darkness that descended upon you like a cloak. One moment, you’re perfectly fine, and the next, you can hardly see the shape of your body against the pavement.

Another shiver wracked your body- but it felt different from a chill. Something inside your brain had begun frantically ringing alarm bells, and you could only desperately search for some kind of stressor as the hair on the back of your neck rose to attention.

Shakily, you exhaled, spinning in one, slow circle. There was the faint outline of a parked car, engine silent and sleeping, the houses, the trees- nothing. Nothing that would make your anxiety levels swing from ‘manageable’ to ‘DEFCON one’.

You turned back around, your previously relaxed pace discarded in favor of a light jog. It was all you could do not to fall on your ass as your backpack shifted and bounced with your downstep, and your chest felt tight as panic began to seep in.

What the hell is going on?

Something clattered behind you, and your breath seized in your lungs. The burning was hardly an afterthought because you were sprinting, stumbling and dropping your own books in your haste to get away from something you couldn’t- or wouldn’t- see.

You were so close you could see the gleam of the next streetlight up above. Your inhales were more like sobbing gasps of air, and distantly you felt the dampness of your cheeks as tears sluiced down them. 

You were so close.

But it was never like you had the chance to escape, anyway.

A calloused hand wrapped around your wrist, yanking it and the rest of your body back. Hard. 

All of the wind was knocked out of you as you slammed into the ground, hands and knees shrieking with agony as the pavement grain shredded the skin. The books within your bag did little to soften the fall, their hard spines digging into your ribs through the material of your bag.

Spots danced in front of your eyes, and you felt like you were moving through molasses as a pair of shiny dress shoes strolled into view. You didn’t want to see their face. Something visceral within you begged you to make yourself as small as possible- not a threat, nothing of interest.

Still, your traitorous gaze drifted upwards, and you felt the blood drain from your face as you stared straight up into a pair of ruby-red eyes.

“My, don’t you smell divine.”

You tried to scream, but it came out more like a choked gasp as your lungs came up empty.

This wasn’t- you had to be hallucinating. This had to be something that your sleep-deprived brain had dreamed up, safe and asleep in your bed.

Vampires weren’t real. 

But, as it grinned with razor-sharp fangs, face alight with nothing but hunger, it was impossible to say it was anything else as it dug sharp, talon-like nails into your open wound.

Pain, quick as lightning and ten times more intense sparked through your nervous system, wringing a punched-out gasp from your throat. The periphery of your eyes darkened, and for a moment you genuinely thought that you would pass out from sheer agony as you desperately tried (and failed) to tear its wrist away. 

It chuckled, twisting its claws in deeper to draw a proper scream out of you, humming in approval before it pulled them out. You went lax, heaving for breath as it lapped at the sticky blood- your blood- coating its fingers.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you realized that it was watching you. Crouched on the side of the street, inspecting you with a calculating gaze not dissimilar from how a fox inspects a cornered rabbit.

“Oh,” it said, a grin that was entirely too wide creeping across its face. “Yes. You taste even better than I thought you would.”

Feeling your breaths come faster and faster as fresh tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, you pressed your palm to your mouth, only succeeding in smearing the blood that covered it all over your chin. 

So this was how you died. Alone, scared, and covered in your own blood, pinned down in the middle of the street by a creature you thought only existed in classical literature and trashy romance novels.

And, to top it all off, you had never even graduated college.

The vampire shifted, and you flinched at the sensation of its talons scraping at the soft flesh of your neck. You knew what happened next if the stories were to be believed, but terror had frozen your limbs as thoroughly as rigor mortis.

You swallowed, squeezing your eyes shut.

And promptly had them fly back open as the vampire shot back in a blur of snarling and snapping limbs, hitting the ground several meters away from you with a loud crack.

Transfixed, you could only watch with a dumbfounded expression as a cloaked figure appeared to teleport in front of you, hissing lowly. The vampire was on its feet before you could blink, its handsome features twisted into an animalistic snarl before it locked gazes with… whatever was blocking its path to you.

If you didn’t feel like you were about to pass out, you would’ve thought how quickly its expression changed from ardor to pure, unadulterated terror was hilarious. 

“You,” it breathed, every muscle in its body snapping with tension. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Sheer survival instinct had kept your focus solely on the vampire that had cornered you, but the fear that radiated it was enough of a surprise that you found yourself glancing over towards whatever was perpetrating it.

One time, after you had gotten off work and had nothing else to do, you decided to watch a documentary series about tropical rainforest animals. For the most part, it was just background noise to help you fall asleep, but you found yourself engrossed when a particular segment about leopards began.

All you could think of, now that you were looking at the cloaked figure, was just how still they were. They didn’t move a muscle, not even where a normal person would’ve begun to cramp after a few seconds. They didn’t even seem to be breathing.

They reminded you of those leopards that you had watched. Especially in the way that those leopards went when they were hunting.

“Who says where I can and can’t be?” they, or rather, he said, masculine voice smooth and calm. “It’s certainly not your job.”

Sensing an opportunity to get the hell out of dodge, you grit your teeth as you shifted onto your hands and knees, slowly pushing yourself up into a crouch. The raw and ragged skin on your knees screamed in protest as it pulled taut, and you had to bite your tongue to stifle your soft sounds of pain.

The vampire’s jaw worked, and even as it drew itself up to its full height, you noted it was much taller than whatever had decided to intervene. (Something was wearing that cloak, but if he was an actual human person, you would eat your hat.)

The cloaked figure titled his head. “If you know what’s good for you, you should leave.”

You froze in place, heart jack-hammering in your ribs. Was he talking to you?

He went on- “Wouldn’t want to break any more rules. The covenant will have your head.”

For a long, tense moment, nothing happened. The wind whistled down the street. In the distance, police sirens wailed.

You didn’t dare move- not when the air itself felt charged, waiting for something to snap.

Then, the vampire growled, lips pulling back from their teeth wolfishly as they reluctantly bowed. Flabbergasted, you watched as it reluctantly melted back into the shadows, the red gleam of its eyes the last thing to fade to black.

The only thing you could hear was your heart thumping in your ears.

After a moment, the cloaked figure’s head turned deliberately towards where your crumpled form was hunched over, and you hastily scrabbled to your feet, Balling your hands up into fists. you trembled, staring him down.

“Are you alright?”

You don’t know what you would do if he decided to attack you, but you weren’t going to take it kneeling- not when you still felt the burn of humiliation for remaining paralyzed by terror. To your continuing horror, he took your silence as an invitation to step forward.

“Stay back,” you bit out, adrenaline buzzing through your veins. “I will not hesitate to punch you in your stupid face.”

Impressively, although you couldn’t make out his face with the shadows that clung to the hood of his cloak, you could see him do a double-take. “... Sorry?”

“You better be,” you muttered, eyes flickering to and fro as you tried to find a good escape route.

To your surprise, he hesitated, murmuring something under his breath that you couldn’t make out. He cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. “I am, if that makes you feel any better. You aren’t supposed to be attacked like this, it’s… uncivilized.”

Gaze snapping back to him, your brows raised incredulously. “Really? You’re not just saying that so that I let my guard down? And then you kill me and steal all my blood?”

“If I wanted to ‘steal all your blood’ I would’ve done it already.”

You deadpanned. “That’s not as comforting as you think it is.”

He took another step, but before you could threaten him again, pulled the hood of his cloak down. By now, your eyes had adjusted to the light (or lack thereof), and you found yourself sucking in a harsh breath.

Although you had guessed, what you saw definitely revealed him to be another vampire. His hair, a close-cropped shock of white, stood out against the darkness of the surrounding street.

You couldn’t describe the way that he was looking at you if you tried. His eyes burned like hot coals, pinned on you with a kind of unyielding focus that made your arms prickle with goosebumps. It both struck you as similar to that other vampire’s regard, a predator watching prey, but it was distinctly different- more like he was cataloging the rise and fall of your breath, the grinding of your shoe heel into the pavement.

A black mask- one of those anime ones that you couldn’t bother to remember the name of- hung around his neck, ready to be pulled up without a second’s notice. It looked well-cared for, despite being a little worn around the edges, and he fiddled with it absently as your gaze swept over him.

The most glaring thing about his appearance was the fact that he was almost flawlessly handsome, skin unblemished, bone structure pristine. The only thing that marred him was the long, thin scar that cut across his left eye, splitting his eyebrow in half.

“Even if you are pretty, I still won’t hesitate to punch you in the nose.”

He barked a laugh, fangs- holy shit his fangs- flashing. For some reason, he seemed pleased at your jab, chest puffing out slightly. “So you think I’m pretty?”

“Do I look like someone that would be attracted to an overgrown mosquito?” you scoffed, eyeing his shrewdly. “And a vain one, at that.”

He paused for a moment, staring at you, and you felt the fear that had temporarily abated come back in full force. One of these days, you were going to take a vow of silence so you could never say anything stupid ever again. 

You swallowed, hugging your arms tight to your body as you leaned away. In a blink, he was suddenly, much, much closer, and you swore as you jumped. 

“No,” the vampire said abruptly, tilting his head in a predatory manner. A smile split across his face, and a confident gleam arose within his eyes as his hand came up to grab your chin firmly. (Privately, you were relieved to find that he clipped his nails like a normal human being.)

“But you do look like someone who knows something they shouldn’t.”

You thrashed in his grip, eventually stilling with your palms pressed flat to his chest. Although you were pushing as hard as you could, it didn’t seem to affect him. 

You laughed, a little bit hysterical. “Oh, so now you’re going to kill me?” 

His fingers drummed against the flesh of your cheek. Languidly running his tongue against the swell of his upper lip, he cocked his head to the other side. You winced as you heard the vertebrae in his neck crack. 

“What could I give you to keep you quiet?”

You blinked, taken aback by his jarringly serious tone.

“What?”

“What do you want? Money? Favors? What would convince you to keep your mouth shut?” he pressed, eyes narrowing, Distantly, you noted that his eyelashes were as pale as the hair on top of his head. “We’ve got kind of a secret society thing going on, y’anno, and we don’t need you blabbing.”

Confused, you shifted, and his hand came up to squish your cheeks until your lips puckered like a fish’s. You tensed but didn’t attempt to move.  “‘Oul’nt you j’st kill ‘m?”

He smirked, ruby red eyes gleaming. “Yes, but it would be a shame. You’re funny.”

You batted his hand away, staring at him. He… seemed sincere, or he could just be a very skilled liar. It was more than likely that both were true, and whatever you did, it would be a gamble.

“... A tutor,” you said after several moments of silence, voice laced with quiet certainty. “That’s what I need. A tutor.”

He stared at you. You stared at him. There was a lot of staring at one another.

“That’s it? ”

You shrugged. “College is hell.”

“Not cash, or fame, or… cash…” the vampire frowned. “Everyone asks for cash.”

“I guess I’m just built different,” you said, as if you weren’t running on less than half of the minimum sleep quota and hubris. 

You would be kicking yourself later when you sprung out of bed, wild-eyed as you beheld the healing cuts that littered your knees and palms, but right now? You were absolutely not in the right mindset to be making pacts with a creature of the night.

“Alrighty then,” he said after a moment, letting go of your face in favor of offering you his other hand. “It’s a deal.”

You, with all the bravado and lack of self-awareness that only a college senior could possess, took it.

He grinned, and in a blink, a solid chest bumped into your back. There was no heat to your proximity other than your startled flush, even as the vampire’s cold breath caressed the shell of your ear.

“The name’s Etho. I have a hunch that you and I... we’re going to have a lot of fun together.”

The crack of your fist hitting his face resounded through the street, drawing a startled hiss from the vampire.

Well, he couldn’t say you didn’t warn him.

@blufr0st​ @itsonlydana​ @amearla​ @bapthadapper​ @redactedsouls​ @sina-the-idiot @icarusthefoolish​ @blockyshieldmaiden​ @lunarheartsposts​

#mori's monster series #a meal for the children #hermitcraft x reader #hermitcraft x you #hermitcraft x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n #ethoslab x reader #ethoslab x you #ethoslab x y/n #c!ethoslab #c!geminitay #tw: mild language #tw: death mention #tw: blood #tw: non-consentual touching #tw: violence #tw: blood and injury #tw: vampirism

[lordrandreaming]

I would like to bring up a small rant with this article I just read, (If you don't like monster hunter world you don't need to pay mind)

So this is basically just a rant on 'the tutorial that teaches you how to play the game is too long and boring.' Okay! Sure. You can say that. But it's not a sin for a game to hold your hand before you really dig in..

MHW is not an easy game! Its easy if you learn it after a LONG time of playing it. It's a long, enrapturing game that can be unforgiving at times. I PLAYED IT SINCE MARCH, 2018. I just got really good at it this goddamn year.

The tutorial is 'bland' because we know nothing. Newer players would find it easier to integrate into the genre, if the game gives them a smooth ride into actually playing the game. You dip your toes in the water, before you slowly lower yourself in or dive in like a madman.

High Rank GETS HARD. Master rank is even HARDER. I'm originally Hunter Rank 140, 300 hour play through. Right now, I'm Hunter Rank 82 in a 150 hour game. I wouldn't be so good if the tutorial didn't hold my hand when I first started. We NEED tutorials for big, expansive games that progressively get harder.

If Wilds gives up on the idea of a hand holding tutorial, then we aren't going to see many 'casual' players enjoying it. Everyone will complain about how hard it is, and Monster Hunter Wilds will get a reputation akin to Dark Souls. Hard.. Unforgiving. Unwelcoming. No one wants to play that except for Veterans and previous entry player's! (Not to say there arent casual gamers looking for a bit of a challenge.)

Newer player's, years from now, are the kids today. If a tutorial is unforgiving as the rest of the game, no one is really going to play it unless they already played other entries of the MH series. The tutorial is there for the people who aren't familiar.

I never played a MH game in my LIFE up until 2018, when some friend's convinced me I would like it. (I did play Dark Souls 3 religiously at this point, being renound for being really good and really far. I beat Midir multiple times on NG+7 by myself, and helped rando's all the time.)

This game is not Dark Souls. Wilds doesn't need to be like Rise, because Rise is EASY SAUCE until you hit 'High-Rank'. Because basically all of Low-Rank is the tutorial.

We don't need harder games, just because one guy is complaining about the tutorial being too easy and unengaging. If you want a harder game, go and play a harder game! It's not a sin that a game teaches you how to play it. GOD FORBID, A HARD GAME HOLDS YOUR HAND IN THE TUTORIAL.

Wilds should learn from World, but it shouldn't ignore key mechanics to player enjoyment either. Not that it should be easy, but a welcoming tutorial and smooth transition to game play would do wonders to the games life span, keeping new players coming in, and old ones coming back.

We don't need harder tutorials.

Imagine skipping past the intro of your favorite movie, and you just watch your favorite part. And then stopping it after that. Wouldn't you rather watch the MOVIE to get there instead? It takes away the immersion.

We go to the New World, and no one knows ANYTHING! We have the tutorial because this is all new stuff here. It's a change up, older player's get the gist, but new players are completely lost.

Easy tutorials should be that. Easy. Need I say more?

#mori speaks #monster hunter article rant #it genuinely made me mad lmao #like bro. #games dont need to have a harder tutorial if the devs want people coming into the series #they want people to play the GAME and how do you do that? #you play the tutorial. #and your understanding depends on how well the tutorial translates in your noggin #and you go from there! #the tutorial gets stale after time after time of playing it #but that doesnt take away from the game. #could do without the handler though lol

[lotus-pear]

Can we stop acting like dazai was the devil. Like yes he did bad things but he was a child. He was 15 alone and in the mafia where althe was told to do was bad things. ALL dazai knew how to do is lie and deceive because it what he's always had to do.it's self preservation. Like??? When will people realize dazai wasn't a monster and was justa child brought up in an Unsafe and abusive environment. Behaviors are learned your aren't born with them. Dazai was a suicidal child just trying to survive all'he knew was manipulation and Iying because that's all he was taught. He abused akutagawa because that's all he was taught. And as he got older it's all he knows how to do. Obviously he's gotten better but he's still morally grey. And that's ok but it's not enough to call him a monster. hes trying so so hard to change, and even if he may not realise it or cling guiltily to his past, the entire prison arc shows how much effort hes put in to become a better person it isnt easy, growing up exposed to death/violence resulting in empathy and apathy issues, all while battling an emptiness inside thats slowly eating up ones will to live. hes genuinely trying to recover from that period of his life, and i cannot express how proud i am solely because of that. hes finally found a healthy environment, a family, and he deserves it along with so much more. he may be deemed as a “monster“ in the past, that cannot be erased, but he hates that part about himself too. being in the good or bad used to make no difference to him, but i strongly believe it does hate that part of him.  Dazai slander are fún and everything - BUT people seem to not get his character right. No, he's not an edgy boy. He genuinely wants to change for the best to make Oda proud, 'BUT HE ABUSED AKUTAGAWA’ , yeah, Akutagawa abused Kyoka and nobody is talking about how its litterally GENERATIONAL TRAUMA. Dazal was never raised correctly, he got raised by Mori and used by him to make him his right hand, maybe because of his ability, or he saw potential in him. He never fell parental Love nor being special to Someone except for Oda. "He LEFT Chuuya!!!“ ok and? Chuuya doesn't need him to live: Dazai LITTERALLY SAW PEOPLE GETTING KILLED/KILLING THEM ON THE DAILEY (AND HE WITNISSED ODAS DEATH - THE ONLY PERSON THAT MADE HIM WANT TO CHANGE.) his eyes at the age of 14, and Mori made him live in a shipping container. Obviously he is not gonna feel human after all this.

And about him and chuuya - the thing is they DO CARE ABOUT EACHOTHER. but nobody seems to care about chuuya other than the fact hes hot asf anf the fact that he is ’super mega gay for dazai 🥺🥺🥺’ because are we reading/watching the same series???? There’s SO MUCH to his character too!!!! But all everyone talks about with him is with dazai, chuuyas character is CRAZY WELL WRITTEN and everyone dumbs it down to ‘he’s an angry short boy with a god inside him and he’s mega gay for dazai and he’s also really hot’ like no - stfu he’s not actually super hot headed and it’s CANNON he’s usually pretty calm and collected. On the other side of the coin is that dazai DOES care about him - in Stormbringer ; Dazai literally willing gave Chuuya an option to either use corruption on Verlaine when he used his true form or to retreat and not do it, which gave a sense of Dazai giving Chuuya the choice to do what he wants without forcing him to, and the fact that when Chuuya used corruption, he was being injured badly to the point where Abahabaki was going to destroy Chuuya which FREAKED DAZAI OUT , and the fact that Dazai certainly believes that Chuuya is human shows that Dazai does care about Chuuya in certain ways without showing due to afraid of losing someone he cares about. and In age 15 Dazai, was willing to help Chuuya to find Abahabaki and defeat Rimbaud, along with stormbringer with him helping Chuuya to find out if he's human or not and to defeat Verlaine.

Ty for reading my rant 💞💞💞💞

i can't tell if this is attacking me or just a rant in general but anyway YESSSSS I 100% AGREE YOU ATE W THAT ANALYSIS BRIAR‼️‼️

#everybody who mischaracterizes dazai over the stupidest shit read this Right Now #lotus’s asks

[carrotkicks]

The BSD analog horror au info dump:

Well Analog Horror AU is a stretch considering analog horror comes in a very specific medium but y'know screw you this story i came up with is close enough to your average analog horror web series. So

things to note:

There are NO ABILITIES in this au. but there's something slightly similar that takes it's place. Not every ability user in BSD will be having that power

In this world humanity is being terrorized by these otherworldly entities (calling them strays bc that's funny) that have been let in through [THE BOOK] which is a gateway to the otherworld because mankind tried play god and fucked around and found out too close to the sun

So abilities users are actually humans that have been possessed by the strays that leaked into our world through [THE BOOK] and are used to cause chaos on Earth.

Strays tend to lock onto humans that experienced unimaginable pain bc their soul juice tastes yummier.

The Special Division for Unusual Incidents is a top secret government organization that's dedicated to destroying [THE BOOK] and ending the stray threat.

But the Special Division is massively shady and inadvertently causes more problems than it solves

Dazai is not quite possessed by a stray like you'd think ;^)

Lol no Dazai actually IS a demon here

The Armed Detective Agency is a private investigation company. They're just normal people. That is until Dazai joins and everything starts going insane. Soon their cases devolve from normal crimes to being tied up in infohazard type mysteries.

The Paranormal Guild is a supernatural hunting secret society in America. Them and the DOA want to get [THE BOOK] to destroy it and end the stray invasion.

So the story focuses on the resident photographer of Armed Detective Agency, Atsushi Nakajima beginning a secret investigation after he accidentally discovers that his coworker, Osamu Dazai, may not be human.

It starts when Dazai and Atsushi are investigating a crime scene from one of a series of horrific massacre where people were found completely torn apart and shredded. Turns out that the serial killings are linked to the Mori Home, a shady clinic that's been tied to several missing persons cases, those of which including Akutagawa and Kyouka. And Dazai has a suspicious connection to Dr Mori.

After this Dazai's mask begins to slip and starts acting really erratic and creepy. Soon enough Dazai brings a strange ghostlike girl to the Agency, and it turns out to be the missing Kyouka Izumi.

Atsushi eventually begins to get worried about Dazai, worry also turns into suspicion because Dazai seems to be involved with the missing persons cases, and starts to investigate into his past to find out what his DEAL is. Which leads him (and the rest of the ADA) down the rabbit hole of government conspiracies and the monsters from an alternate dimension and the Mori Home with all its shadiness.

#i'm thinking there's another side aspect dedicated to worldbuilding told in Ango's perspective #of the governments actions against the strays and how they've been trying to censor all the information to keep the world peace at bay. #(think of the special division as the scp foundation lol) #bsd #bsd analog horror au #ideas posting

[maraudingforflesh]

more soukoku recs

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36333331/chapters/90580072

death offers no absolution (62,063 words); chuuya finally cracks and leaves the port mafia

https://archiveofourown.org/series/3128790

redamancy (series); mori is abusing dazai and chuuya wishes he could do more to help his partner

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41248287

Over every extinguished past (16,590 words); dazai is injured and chuuya sits vigil in the ADA

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36104566

Sleep Warm Tonight (16,650 words); Soukoku Christmas traditions

https://archiveofourown.org/series/1989544

Affirmation (series); chuuya defects to the ADA

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39981816

you'll never make me leave (13,049 words); moments from their time in the mafia

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41126526/chapters/103088673

We Shall Be Monsters (12,884 words); dazai doesn’t take kindly to subordinates dehumanizing his partner

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39313518/chapters/98380413

This is how it feels to take a fall (20,602 words); chuuya dies and dazai is willing to do whatever it takes to undo that

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39264423/chapters/98250894

Five times Nakahara Chuuya visited the Ada, and the one time they visited him (16,357 words); what is says on the tin

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29849802/chapters/73448754

Baby Executive (101,652 words); chuuya gets de-aged by an ability

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42610176

the pain we share (the strength we have) (5,668); the ADA finds out how dazai trained chuuya and takes issue with his methods

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39430836/chapters/98684571

Damn Your Love, Damn Your Lies (26,612 words); when dazai arrives at the ADA after hiding underground chuuya is already there

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41621943/chapters/104400675

Willful Neglect (27,924 words); chuuya dies from a complication of corruption and dazai will do anything to undo this mistake

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39856635/chapters/99791361

What Is Being Human Anyway? (27,634 words); chuuya leaves the mafia with dazai and they travel the world

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19273030

Blind Spots Covered (4,626 words); chuuya tells the agency when dazai’s birthday is

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23908429

Sweet Sixteen (9,829 words); dazai and chuuya celebrate chuuya’s birthday

https://archiveofourown.org/series/2651140

Dazai’s crumbling mental health (series); dazai-centric stories

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21857764/chapters/52166419

Raison d'être (25,441 words, WIP); dazai’s relationship with chuuya is revealed to the agency and he knows what he needs to do to keep himself and his partner safe

#soukoku #bsd

[sorcerersandskillusers]

Why Chuuya Nakahara works so well.

Chuuya’s popularity is crazy. For a character who isn’t even in the main group of protagonists or antagonists Chuuya is still probably the most popular character in the whole manga despite his role in the manga itself being quite small hehe.

I’m sure people are going to say that Chuuya gets loads of attention in the light novels, but thats not the point, he was super popular before the light novels were adapted and widely read, heck i loved him just from season 2 where he fought love craft and he’d only appeared 3 times in the whole series so why is he so likable.

First: He has a good balance of great character traits.

Chuuya has a incredible mix of positive character traits that somehow don’t make him feel like a Mary-sue but instead make him really shine as a complicated and deep character

He’s Really strong but not overpowered, Chuuya is consistently called one of the strongest if not the strongest in the whole series, but somehow he still fights tough opponents so It never feels like he’s invincible or that he never struggles, his opponents Lovecraft, Verlaine, Rimbaud... are all monsters who pushed Chuuya to the very brink to defeat them.

He’s funny, Chuuya and Dazai have some of the funniest dynamics I've seen in manga period, both Dazai’s crazy schemes and jokes as well as Chuuya’s reactions and comebacks are why I loved the 2 of them from the start

He’s loyal, Chuuya shows incredible loyalty not only to the port mafia but to his friends and anyone who helps him out, he’s a person who will go out of his way to help out anyone he feels he owes something even if that person betrays him.

His design is amazing, i’m not personally attracted to him but I can see why he’s got so many of you down bad

He struggles and suffers, Chuuya dispite being the strongest in almost any situation has spent his life being yanked around by other people, first the sheep used him for protection, then Mori manipulated him with hostages, then he spent years being manipulated by Dazai, Verlaine also tried to control Chuuya and his future ect...

He loses so many people close to him, he suffers so much pain, being tortured and beaten in every fight he’s in. he also never really gets support since the people who help him normally end up dead or are cold Mafioso. The flags are killed, the Sheep betray him, his friends die in the Dragon Head conflict, Adam leaves, Dazai makes his life hell and he has no one who just unconditionally loves him like Dazai got with Oda.

He’s smol, he’s a little guy, just a lil dude, a short king, if we met I’d be 30cm taller than him and that’s hilarious, he’s so tiny.

The other thing that makes Chuuya so popular is he doesn’t have a glaring bad character traits either.

He’s not super annoying, stupid, perverted, incopetent, preachy, whiny or really irritiating at all, he might not be your favourite but outside of his fanbase there aren’t many reasons to hate him.

He’s willing to kill but isn’t sadistic and doesn’t kill for fun.

He’s not egotistical even if he’s confident, and doesn’t bully people.

He’s not gross

He doesn’t get all preachy or whiny about how much he’s gone through and the pain he’s suffered even though he’s been through hell.

Sorry for the long post but I’ll just add that Chuuya is one of my favourite characters and if you’ve been wondering why he’s so popular I hope this helped you understand.

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #chuuya nakahara #Dazai Osamu #bsd #character analysis #CHUUYA MY BELOVED #bungou stray dogs chuuya #port mafia

[ddostoyevskyy]

❝𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐖 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍❞

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐕: A Pay for Sins!

Edogawa Ranpo

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒... f!reader, mindbreak, mind manipulation, self-harming, emotional instability, death, murders (just for a while, Fukuzawa to the rescue🤸🏻‍♀️🤸🏻‍♀️). THIS IS QUITE MESSY, I WROTE THIS, LIKE 3 AM TO 4 AM.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄... the mood of the backstory is darker than the usual, because I want to show y’all the reader’s ability. It wasn’t really made to be use for good intentions. Although, it’s up to the ability user. After these backstories, Imma switch up the mood rq🤸🏻‍♀️

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒... 3.331k (wao)

SERIES MASTERLIST

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐄, 𝐈, 𝐈𝐈, 𝐈𝐈𝐈, 𝐈𝐕, 𝐕

You are to learn to purposely and consciously attract the things in your life that you desire the most.

The world is full of lies, sinners, murderers, and greed — it made your head ache as you watch the world in silence, within the sight of the moon, within the sight of a pair of dark eyes that carried a lot of sins. You can see the innocence or how tainted they are. The heavy guilt on their heart pumps through their veins and run through their minds as they tried to erase those bloody memories, although at the end, they were always proven guilty to you.

The world is cruel for a child like you... for a child whose parents and origin are unknown, yet you’re trying to make your own name in this world where violence is the answer, where justice came with death and silenced. You could easily break free from this bars, yet you stilled — sat in the dark on silence once again.

You were silenced once again.

It happened in a blink of an eye. Your so called father had died in front of you with the click of a gun, the smell of gunpowder emits through the air, mixing with the scent of blood that trickled on your face. You refused to talk, even now and then that even Mori gave up on pursuing a child who had just lost her parent.

You were alone again.

Your ears perked up when you heard a clink on the other side of the cell, glancing across the room, a pair of cerulean eyes had been staring at you for a while, making your eyebrow arched. Maroon hair and cerulean eyes... his appearance were somewhat matured, although the appearance of his chubby cheeks made him appeared younger — he had a lean figure beneath his shirt — an assassin, maybe — by how he figured you out even though you have been keeping yourself away from the light outside the cell. He has a keen eyes through the dark.

He seems dull... like he had no emotions at all. Yet, you can sense the weight of his sins through your shoulders as you scrunched your nose. You are a no God to provide judgement to these people, yet it still made you shiver as you realized how much you were surrounded by these criminals, no, monsters. His unemotional capable is making you a little wary. Although, the warmth spread through your body made you a little relief that he still has good intentions through his morals.

He keep his eyes on you as he finally break the silence, “How old are you?”

“It’s rude to ask a girl her age, you know?” You spite, crawling towards the light as you finally showed yourself.

“I apologize. I thought you are in the same gender.” He answered as he reverted his gaze to the book he’s holding — a bible, which you were quite surprised. That has been what he’s reading all this time... a bible. Interesting.

“What’s your name?”

“I asked first and I never received a proper answer. So, it’s rude to ask someone another question without answering the question first, you know?”

Feisty. You clicked your tounge. “I could crawl through your head using my ability and command you to kill yourself, Mister.”

“Then, you could use your ability to rummage through my mind, so you can know my name, Miss.” Your lips puckered in an adorable pout as he averted his gaze back to you. You could sense a familiarity and a sense of humor within.

“(Name) (Last Name),” You muttered, “That’s my name.”

“Oda Sakunosuke,” He answered, “Nice to meet you, (Name).”

His boyish voice, the calmness in his heart despite the possible danger of him. You can’t pinpoint his emotion... he feels dull, his thoughts were the same — it’s like, he spawn in the world without memories. The only thing that you knew you were good at is to read people, and it scares you; meeting rare people whose emotions were void, dull memories, and eerily silent — it made your head ache.

“You look pale, are you alright?” You could feel your heart pounds through your ears as he spoke, head numbing and all you want is for it to halt. “That’s your ability? Mind reading?”

“N-No,” You stuttered. “I... I don’t even know what’s my ability and I can’t really stop myself from using it time to time.”

“Elaborate, I might help.”

You were confused, Oda figured. You were never really exposed through the world full of people, yet you look like someone who experience everthing; the pain, the suffering, the trauma, yet you were still naïve. The look in your eyes were empty as you stare in space, a single tear slip passed your cheek, yet when you spoke, your voice never faltered.

“I can go through people’s memories with the help of a single mirror, Altered Reality, where I could force memories that never even happen in someone’s mind. Reflecting Emotions, just like this... I could feel your emotions, I could feel someone’s pain physically and emotionally.”

That’s cruel. He thought. Did you even realize that you were crying right now? Or have you adapted his emotions? You look lost... is that what he’s feeling right now? This kind of ability is what considered gifted, yet you looked miserable. He never really understood the gifted world... nor he has discovered his own. And, what he have witnessed is nothing, but a child in crisis.

He can’t help. He’s been emotionless since.

“I can’t help you. But, maybe someone out there can. Endure it for a while.” Your mouth twitched at his answer, wiping your face.

Oda Sakunosuke doesn’t feel anything. His emotions were unstable, yet the satisfaction of driving his weapon through a flesh, the blood splattered across the wall, dripping down on his face — that’s the only thing he had felt alive. Or so he thought.

“Why do you feel hesitant?”

He stared at the girl across his room, behind the bars — the same expression he had. “What’s wrong, Mister Oda?”

“Nothing.”

He moved away from the light where she couldn’t see him, away from her curious eyes and her ability to figure personal space. He sighed, closing the book on his hand. You stared through the dark as you realized what he have done. The weight of his feelings through your head disappeared and it left nothing.

“Do you feel anything? Emotions, I mean. I have realize, you kept adapting your emotions to the people around you, yet you never know what you really feel, don’t you?” His question left you speechless as you stared behind bars, eyes searching for him, yet you couldn’t catch a glimpse of his eyes.

“Of course not...”

“Why do you feel hesitant?” Your breath hitch at his question — the same question you ask earlier whirl back to you. “Do you want to get out of here? How did you even got here, in the first place?”

“Someone named Mori Ougai sent me here. He’s an underground doctor and he feel dangerous, at the same time. Although, I didn’t feel scared, maybe I was reflecting his emotions that time.”

“This is a non-government jail where most of the gifted people here are captured. Do you understand what it meant?”

“Yes and yes, I want to get out of here.” You muttered. That information is never in your mind in the first place, yet you did understand. You never really not understand something you were told of. Yet, the silhouette of a man in your mind were the only thing you couldn’t understand.

“You can’t survive alone if you can only rely with people’s emotions. I can’t help you, but maybe someone out there are willing to. You just have to wait.” You kept silent as he talks. Although, he understood your silence, he let out a sigh as he turn his head on your direction, staring at your spacing self until your eyes closed shut, head resting against the rails as you fell asleep.

This world is too dangerous for you, too harsh and too terrifying within your mental capabilities. Although, he also have wished to know what’s on someone’s mind — he can’t handle something he can’t control, something too strong, yet too innocent. You don’t belong in this kind of world he’s been used to, and he can only hope someone will come and take you out of here — away from people’s advantages.

Oda Sakunosuke is not innocent anymore. He have seen more than you; the blood, the murder that he is too, a suspect. Although, there’s a piece of something awakening when he had met you for such a short time he tries to identify.

Not pity... he hasn’t done that for a while — he’s an assassin, after all.

Then, what is it?

Care? Does he has any care at all? Those lives he had taken without a reason, without mercy, without... care, then why is he feeling this way now? Why does it feel like he wanted to protect her at all costs?

Someone... save her. If I can’t even save myself out of this hell, then someone... someone save her... someone —!

“Do we have an agreement?”

“I can escape at any point if I want to,” Oda answered as he sat by the edge of the bed, staring at the man standing in front of his cell — looking desperate at some point. It has been a week since his interaction with (Name), although she is nowhere in sight anymore as he got detained to another place. “The reward you’re promising isn’t quite worth it. But the food in this facility is awful. If you happen to have some sway here, would you mind talking to them?”

Fukuzawa Yukichi was confused, yet he immediately gave in. “Any requests?”

“Curry rice,” He smiled, “And one more thing...”

Fukuzawa strided through the halls, several footsteps emitting through the concrete floor as the boy besides him kept talking about how hungry he was — Ranpo Edogawa, a fourteen year old boy he brought along to his journey of solving crimes — which had been hectic and stressful for the man. The walk towards their destination were silent as Ranpo noticed the sudden change of his aura.

“What’s wrong, Mister?” Ranpo’s voice bounce through the hall, interrupting the suffocating silent as Fukuzawa halted before he turn to his right, silver eyes fixated to a cell. “Who...?”

“You’d like to take her?” Fukuchi’s voice erupted as he leaned through the wall. “She’s quite feisty, mind you.”

“Yes. (Name)... this is (Name), right?” Fukuchi nodded, handling him over the key.

“She’s gifted a dangerous ability if not use right, Yukichi. I’m just telling you. She had brutally killed few of my people without even touching them,” Fukuzawa halted, his hand stop reaching for the lock as his hand touched the rails, peeking through the darkness of the small room until he saw a glimpse of a silhouette, tucked with head on knees, hugging her knees in silence. “She’s a real deal. Once you‘ve open that cell, she’s your responsibility if she’ll continue her own massacre.”

“Okay.” Fukuzawa muttered as he turn back to look at Ranpo who shrugged his shoulder. He approached the inside, walking through the darkness as he place a hand through the top of her head in a gentle manner.

“Is she asleep?”

“She’s not. She just don’t want to raise her head.”

“May I know why?”

“That’s how her ability works, Yukichi. I guess,” Fukuchi added, “I don’t know how she exactly did it, but before her victims died, they keep muttering something. V.”

“It’s... not an alphabet... not a letter...”

Fukuzawa drop his gaze to the girl as she muttered something muffled.

“(Name)? What is it?”

He felt a tug on his haori as he was approached by the girl whose currently now hiding her face inside his haori.

“I don’t... wanna look at you... I might... hurt you... please...”

“She’s harmless, don’t you think?”

“I don’t think so. She had caused such huge problem.”

“I’ll take her, then.” Fukuzawa unwrapped his scarf around his neck, carefully rolling the scarf to create a blindfold as he press it around her eyes, raising her hair away from the nape of her neck as he tied it not too tight, but enough for it to not fall.

“I can’t believe you were really going to fulfill his request.”

I can’t believe it too, he thought as he lower himself, putting her arms around his neck as he clutch both of his arms under her knees, glancing at Fukuchi as they stare at each other for a while.

This is really going to be a huge problem now that (Name) is willing to go with him. Ah... definitely in need changing of plans. “Best of luck, Yukichi.” Fukuchi breaks the silence with a tight-lipped smile, in which Fukuzawa answered with a small grin.

“Mister Fukuzawa, I’m quite hungry now, can we go eat?” Ranpo whined as his gaze fixed to the girl on Fukuzawa’s back — completely engulfed with silence, yet the confusion from the girl’s body language is visible.

“Fukuzawa?” He heard a small voice uttered his surname as he tilted his head to the side to stare at the girl on his back. “That name... seems familiar.”

“Really? Well, I’m quite famous around this area.”

Ranpo’s lips pout, an annoyed expression plastered on his face when he realized he’s now being ignored, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Silver hair, silver eyes, mid thirties... you were once called The Silver Wolf, an assassin. You were acquaintance with Mori Ougai.” It wasn’t a question as you keep going with those information that even Ranpo doesn’t talk about anymore. Fukuzawa’s footsteps continue to falter the more you talk and you feel a sudden anxiousness washes over your body... and you knew it was either those two emotion you’re experiencining right now —

It was yours.

You feel... anxious.

“I... I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push the wrong button... I... I met that man before...” Your voice faltered and Fukuzawa suddenly got a nostalgic feeling that he had seen this before as his gaze turn back to Ranpo whose staring straight to him with the same bewilderedment. “... I may or may not dealt with him and swivel my way through his memories and I saw you... well, I am keen with my sense of smell and I knew your scent is familiar the moment you stepped inside this facility.”

You were now becoming talkative as you noticed — now that your sense of sight is gone, the more you became aware of your surroundings; the droplets of silence and the sensitive noise of their footsteps on your ears. Although, it was comfortable at the same time, you feel like you’ve said the worst thing you could ever tell a stranger.

You have seen Fukuzawa Yukichi through Mori’s memories... the same scent of masculinity mixed of blood and musk — this is definitely him. In the midst of someone’s memories, your five senses is more sharper than usual, that way you could remember every people in their memories. The same bloodlust smell through this man whose carrying you on his back changes a bit, yet you knew, you weren’t entirely wrong by the way he fell completely silent.

He’s an assassin... more like a private one. Mori Ougai and Fukuzawa Yukichi is an unstoppable duo in this world... yet one day, Fukuzawa Yukichi wanted nothing of this pool of blood anymore. And, so, their bond has been broken; two people that were fated ties cut together as one wanted to do good despite of countless of times his sword has been covered in blood and one wanted to continue his legacy to achieve his goal of overdriven power.

Fukuzawa is terrified and flabbergasted at the same time; such ability, such strong sense of survival, such power to alter anything and everything all in once within a body of a child... of a young girl now he’s carrying in his arms.

Fukuchi is not entirely wrong... this is such a huge responsibility. These two child, too intelligent and, yet deprived from the knowledge away from world. Two complete polar opposites; one who is yet in need to know his “gifted ability” is natural, and one who is yet in need to control her ability that can conquer the world in her own small hands.

He’s completely silent, so is Ranpo, so is (Name). The spindle wheel of the needle felt sharp on his throat that once he did a wrong move, it will cut through his flesh and the strings attach in these child’s mind will let go. He felt a lump on his throat, and Ranpo isn’t feeling good; the hunger he felt earlier disappeared as it changed — feeling the empty whirl of his chest like he’s constipated... the anxiety rummaging on his chest that he was quite thankful for the blindfold Fukuzawa created for (Name).

“It’s a burden... this ability they called gifted,” She whispered through the air, near Fukuzawa’s ear as he listens, “He called me a Gift of God... it was the meaning of his own name. My father, too, called me a Gift from God because I was sent from the Heavens to be his child, but he confessed that I was never from his flesh... which I never understood at first, but now I realized when I finally figured my own memories, the one that I have never altered,”

“It is painful in my head, it is piercing through my skull. It hurts... well, I figured; the reality hurts. I was never —”

— made from flesh;

Is what you wanna say. But your lips won’t move and Fukuzawa felt your arms tightening around his neck (but it was just enough for him to breath), “— I was never awake from reality. I am always relying with someone’s memories, someone’s emotions. This blindfold you put in my eyes to cover, it was really appreciated, Mister. I figured how much you can’t really see anything through memories...”

“You can only see the reality if its written within the eyes of anyone who has their eyes open. It is only up to them if they want to believe or they want to close their eyes and live within their own fantasy.” Ranpo spoke your final words as his fist balled through the hem of his clothes.

“Yes... you’re correct. You can tell my exact words... finally,” You let out a satisfied sigh and Ranpo’s eyebrow quirk as he stared at your form.

“Finally someone who can understand me...”

Even though, Ranpo didn’t hear the exact words you muttered under your breath, Fukuzawa’s gentle smile etched across his face is enough for him to figure out what you wanted to say to him.

“Maybe, this way I could pay for the sins I made, don’t you think, (Name)?”

“Huh...? What do you mean, Mister Yukichi?”

Yukichi, huh... Fukuzawa let out a smile again within the gesture. Fukuzawa knew you understood the meaning of his words. He’s always been carrying the heavy feeling of his own sins through his shoulders — the weight is nothing compared to what he’s carrying now; a child with a future within his liability.

Thus, within these two child, named Ranpo Edogawa and (Name) (Last Name), was the reason of founding and creating his own legacy.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All Rights Reserved 2023 © ddostoyevskyy. Do not repost without permission or plagiarized.

#bsd fics #bungou stray dogs #bsd fanfic #[❤️; niko’s series] #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd odasaku #bsd fukuzawa #bsd ranpo #bsd fukuchi

[fyorina]

(uh, this is rlly long im so sorry qwq)

OMG THAT LAST CHAPTER HAD ME FEELING SM CARINA U CANT DO THIS TO ME !!!! LITERALLY THE FIRST FEW PARAGRAPHS IN I HADTA WALK AROUND BC I WAS SO OVERWHELMED I LOVED IT SM !!! N THOSE LAST FEW LINES. DONTDOTHISTOME I S A W THE "BEAST AU COMPLIANT" TAG ON UU IM GONNA SOB MY EYES OUT DURING IT I JUST KNOW !!!

gonna leave some of my fave few lines n my thoughts abt them from this chapter (ok these arent all of em, bc if i put all of em it'd be the whole 50k words of this series SO ITS JUST THIS CHAPTER)

"because how could he possibly belong amongst people who are so unfailingly good that it makes his tainted heart stick out like a sore thumb?"

STOP NO DONT DO THIS TO MEEEEEE throughout the whole fic u perfectly captured his thought process n how he denies his own capacity for change n how he HAS changed from when he was 18 BUT THIS LINE MADE ME TEAR UPPPPPP

"He is so completely and irrevocably in love with you that Dazai doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to live in a world without you. The thought alone makes his skin crawl and his chest cave in."

self-explanatory

“Are you calling me ugly?” 

u gorgeous, gorgeous man ilysm yes you look like a rat but i'll swaddle u up in blankets n clean u up

the whole graveyard scene. DO YOU WANT ME TO CRY HELLO

“You were a kid, Osamu. You’re not some incarnate of evil for ending up where you did, you were failed by all of the adults in your life,”

ok nvm crying this hit me like a truck

"Humans cannot live without a heart, so if he’s to give you his, it’s only fair that you give him your own—though realistically, yours has already been his for a long time."

i feel like this mightve been ur fave line, but if it wasnt IT STILL IS MINE BC OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD QWQ

ranpos lil rant was so funny he's literally me frfr

“Yeah… ha, look at us, in jail at the same time! Couple goals, huh?” 

i giggled

PLS READER INVITING EVERYONE JUST TO AVOID GETTING INTERROGATED UMMM RELATABLE LMFAO

these are just some of them BUT JUST IN GENERAL, UR WRITING IS JUST MAGICAL ITS EVERYTHING IVE EVER WANTED TO READ N I LOVELOVELOVEEEE THIS SERIES N ALL UR WORKS (n u /p) SM !!! I CANT WAIT FOR UNREAL UNEARTH, I JUST KNOW IT'LL BE AMAZING !!!

RED HOW MANY TIMES MUST I TELL YOU NOT TO APOLOGIZE I LITERALLY ADORE YOU IM GOING TO WEEP OMG

honestly the first scene of dazai’s pov was one of my favs to write because it pisses me off so much whenever he’s excluded from the ada panels in the manga fjsjdjsjjd so i NEEDED the opportunity to hit home that that is his FAMILY idc what asagiri says the ada is that boys family and he deserves it 🥹🤞

UGHHHHH STOP BECAUSE WHENEVER I WRITE CANONZAI ITS SO HARD TO KEEP ON THAT THIN LINE OF HIS INABILITY TO ACCEPT HIS OWN GROWTH WHILE ALSO HAVING HIM ACKNOWLEDGING ODA’S LAST WISH FOR HIM SO I REWROTE SO MANY OF HIS POVS SEVERAL TIMES BECAUSE I FELT LIKE I WASNT GRASPING IT ALL PROPERLY

the graveyard scene was one of the 3 scenes i started writing for 🥹 i literally was weeping when i finally got to it

AND ALSO THE YOU WERE A KID LINE UGHHHHHHHH BRO when i tell you that’s something that i literally want to scream at him and shake his shoulders like he was FOURTEEN WHEN MORI BROUGHT HIM IN AFTER HIS ATTEMPT !!!!! FOURTEEN !!!!! HE WAS A BABY IT MAKES ME SO SAD WHEN HE FRAMES HIMSELF AS SOME IRREDEEMABLE MONSTER WHEN HE ONLY TURNED OUT THE WAY HE DID BECAUSE HE HAD NO ADULTS IN HIS LIFE SETTING HIM ON THE RIGHT TRACK ugh im gonna weep again i will always be dazai’s #1 defender, i will fight him himself idc he was only a lil baby :’)

oh my god fun fact i actually almost deleted that line about the heart, i don’t even know why like i was rereading it right before i post and i second guessed myself because i was like ‘i don’t think it rlly flows’ but then i decided against removing it because i liked the line in general SO IM WEEPING AGAIB

bro ranpo needs a promotion for real the headaches this man must get because of people not listening to him 💀

HDOSJDJSJDJJD THE COUPLES GOAL LINE WHEN I TELL YOU I SNORTED WRITING IT HELPPPPP I WAS GIGGLING SO HARD

RED ILYSM IM BUNDLING YOU IN THE SOFTEST BLANKETS AND GIVING YOU A FOREHEAD KISS

i’m so excited for unreal unearth like honestly it’s my pride and joy, i’m so pleased with how my beast!dazai characterization has come out so far and i’m hoping everyone else is going to like it too 🥹 if not ill simply die HAHAH JK JK JK no but really i’m so very excited for it

#ᡣ𐭩 carina’s love letters #ᡣ𐭩 from user: cheriiyaya

[lionofchaeronea]

The Shuttle by Frances Hodgson Burnett - I quite like it, it kinda goes into the (poor) english aristocracy marrying wealthy american girls and the differences in expectation of treatment and such.

A Bride's Story by Kaoru Mori - a manga series, don't know if your into that, but carefully researched, beautiful art (especially the textiles) of the time period and place, in areas around the silk road/russian steppes - Kazakhstan is one place I know the author visited.

The Ghost Bride - Yangsze Choo

Black Water Sister - Cho Zen

The Midwife's Apprentice - Karen Cushman

The House of the Scorpion - Nancy Farmer

Julie of the Wolves - Jean Craighead George

Blackbird House - Alice Hoffman

Geisha of Gion - Mineko Iwasaki - one of the main people Arthur Golden interviewed for his book. She wrote this to counteract his "white guyification" of what she told him.

Literary Studies for Rhetoric Classes - Bernard L. Jefferson - found this one at a thrift store I just really enjoyed a lot of the pieces in it.

The Story of My Life - Helen Keller

Sirena - Donna Jo Napoli

A Monster Calls - Patrick Ness

Binti - Nnedi Okorafor

What Happened to Lani Garver - Carol Plum-Ucci

The Color of Magic - Terry Pratchett

The Boxer Rebellion: The Dramatic Story of China's War on Foreigners that Shook the World in the Summer of 1900 - Diana Preston

Trudy's Promise - Marcia Preston - a very close look at one mother separated from her son when the Berlin Wall goes up.

Interview with the Vampire - Anne Rice - a very sad novel as it was written in response to when Anne Rice lost her child. A good close look at grief and loss and apathy.

Lovecraft Country - Matt Ruff - the show missed the point... the author wrote this inspired by when he and a black friend had been talking and he realized that because of skin color that while they occupied the same space, they lived in "different countries"

The Marvels - Brian Selznick

Salt to the Sea - Ruta Sepeteys

Koyal Dark, Mango Sweet - Kashmira Sheth

The Help - Kathryn Stockett

Children of Time - Adrian Tchaikovsky (or anything by him really)

The Ramsay Scallop - Frances Temple

Doomsday Book - Connie Willis - time-traveler finds herself back during the start of one of the sweeps of the black plague - it's pretty sad

Fifth Chinese Daughter - Jade Snow Wong

*some of these are middlegrade but I feel middlegrade is sometimes not appreciated enough as literature. ^_^'

*also sorry for the very long list....

No apologies needed. I really appreciate the recommendations.

#personal #answer

[sincerely-sofie]

Do songs that you listen often to ever remind you of characters or events from TPiaG or other stories you've written? It happens to me a lot with stuff from a story with OCs I've been helping my best friend make for years now.

Anyways, I'm asking about it because a song from my playlist reminded me a lot of Twig when I heard it while driving the other day. I had heard the song a million times before, but when I was thinking about the lyrics more they seemed to perfectly fit her internal conflict. The song was Blurt by Mega Mango if you want to take a listen.

The song is definitely just about dealing with mental health issues in general, but my PMD brainrot made it so that this was all I could think about after my epiphany. On that note, I want to offer you a congratulations for writing characters so well that they takes over my brain from time to time. I greatly appreciate it. :D

First up: Thanks so much for your kind words! Second: Oh my goodness. My friend, you are opening up Pandora's Box.��

TPiaG doesn't have as many songs associated with it as my other projects because it hasn't been in development for several years— however, a vital part of my story development process is listening to music and imagining all the animatics of the characters and storyline that I want to make set to them. I do this for every project that sufficiently resonates with the blorbo frequency in my brain, and TPiaG is no exception! 

In terms of songs that embody specific events but aren't connected to a single character, I regularly listen to “Turn the Lights off” by Tally Hall and imagine a sort of extended theme song animation for if TPiaG were an animated series. There's so many lines that mention concepts important to the story!

Another animatic song, this one set in the Dark Future when Twig was human and starting her and Grovyle's quest to save the world, is "Running Out Of Time" by Lin-Manuel Miranda--- specifically the stretch spanning at roughly 1:10 to the end of the song. I have a very vivid image of Twig repeatedly shouting at Grovyle that they need to abscond ASAP as he frantically gathers supplies that spilled out of his bag while they're being pursued by the sableye, and then of Dusknoir being dismissed by a ferryman as he's interrogating him on which way they went.

I also still listen to “Let's Get This Over With” by They Might be Giants and imagine the rest of that one unfinished animatic I posted forever ago. That song isn't as blatantly connected to the events of the game, but there's a few anchor points in the lyrics I really enjoy. 

As for individual characters and songs I associate with them, here’s a selection with links to Spotify for easy listening!

Twig:

"Hey, Doctor Doctor" by Milk in the Microwave

"Monster" by Half Moon Run

"Smile" by Ukuletea

"Feelings Are Fatal" by mxmtoon

... And now, "Blurt" by Mega Mango as well!

Ark:

"Problems" by Mother Mother 

"Rule #21- Momento Mori" by Fish in a Birdcage

"What You Know" by Two Door Cinema Club

Kip:

"I'm Not Fine" by Blixemi

"Don't Throw Out My Legos" by AJR

"Just Take My Wallet" by Jack Stauber’s Micropop

Grovyle:

"The Villain I Appear to Be" covered by Annapantsu

"Surface Pressure" covered by Annapantsu

(I don't know why both of these songs are specifically the versions sung by Annapantsu. Apparently she's Grovyle-coded in my head.)

Celebi:

(Insert any bubblegum pop or kawaii future bass song of your choice here.)

(Celebi has somehow evaded my ability to assign her songs. I’ll get her someday.)

Dusknoir: 

"I'll Be Good" by Jaymes Young

"Never Love an Anchor" by The Crane Wives

"I Was Me" by Imagine Dragons

Twig's Aunt:

"Family Jewels" by Marina and the Diamonds

"In Fact (Demo Version)" By Gregory and the Hawk

"Ain't It Fun" by Paramore

Twig's Mother:

"Brother" by Madds Buckley

And for those who'd enjoy some Travailshipping songs...

"You Are The Moon" by The Hush Sound

"Dark Clay" by Levi Weaver

"When the Day Met the Night" by Panic! at the Disco

"Can I Have the Day With You" by Sam Ock

"Tongues & Teeth" by The Crane Wives

#the present is a gift au #travailshipping #ark/twig #pmd darkrai #pmd2 partner #pmd grovyle #pmd celebi #pmd dusknoir #pokemon mystery dungeon #pokémon mystery dungeon #pmd explorers #pmd sky #pmd eos #pmd2 #pmd #sofie answers asks

[carefulfears]

I...I need the post about why he ditched on purpose now x.x MMAnon 💙

(ps thank you for always replying, I love the safe little alcove your blog is to gush and yes I am terrified because I have a hint of what is coming next 🥲)

well, mulder tends not to profile/analyze scully, (out of respect), which leads to a lot of miscommunication because he’s taking her words/actions at face value, and often, interpreting them through his own lens and insecurities.

but this is one that even at face value he would get, lol.

the sad thing is, she does have to be dying for him to hold her hand and kiss her. it’s that classic mulder selflessness/selfishness double edged sword.

there's a desperation in redux, a complete abandonment of pretense, to just give to each other whatever they can. it's her looking up at him from her deathbed and begging: lay it all on me. take everything i have left.

and, at the same time, it's his teary smile and shake of his head.

it's the end. this might be it. this might be all they'll ever have.

and she CRIES!!!! in redux when he’s being attentive to her. she cries in memento mori when he is present with her. further along in the series, she also does in fight the future and amor fati, both times when he’s being open with her.

it’s overwhelming, when he’s actually just still with her. she values it so much. she’s memorizing these moments and holding onto them.

but he has to be chasing, and moving, and searching.

at this point, there is no world in which he sits in that motel room and has wine and cheese with her. regardless of anything else, anything further than that. he has to run out the door and check for monsters.

and the world is constantly responding back: you're right. you can't have that.

he leaves that motel room, and there are monsters when he looks. how could he stay and "consort" when it would be to turn away from the fight? when it would be to allow himself something that's not atoning to the universe for his sin of still being alive?

when it would be to partake in something that's not repenting for being the brother who lost his sister, the agent who infected his partner.

mr. black hole at the center of the universe; everything bad that has ever happened is because of him, therefore, everything that has ever happened is about him.

he's trying to spare her, when he's actually denying her. he'll send her away wrapped in love and care, but he won't move forward in comfort or joy. it doesn't occur to him that he's depriving her, as well.

(P.S. thank you so much, that's so sweet of you to say. i always smile to see your asks, i have so much fun with them. it reminds of my first watch, and also of just chatting with a friend, i don't feel as much pressure as i do when i'm really writing something. saw your other message, i'm so sorry for what you're watching today!! keep us updated <3)

#asks #he does get there though #somewhere in between a night out in LA and 'caddyshack' #mulder if you don't let this woman have her wine and cheese so help me GOD #it's another level of deprivation too because she wants this FOR him #and she wants this WITH him #she can't really have it otherwise #detour

[moriiartist]

LIKE INK IN WATER

Masterlist

Taglist

PAIRING: Ghost!Eret x GN!Reader

SUMMARY: Get a job as a tour guide at the local historic castle!’, they said. ‘It’ll be fun!’, they said. Well, now a specter of the last monarch to be crowned in its old halls has decided you’re the best thing since sliced bread, and you have to live with it.

WARNINGS: Mild language, implied/referenced death, implied/referenced murder, body horror, fainting mention

A/N: Okay- I know the warnings look bad, but in my opinion the fic is a lot lighter than it may first appear. Don’t judge a book by its cover, or... something. Anyways, enjoy, and remember to take care of yourselves y’all!

When you stepped into the darkened, cavernous expanse of the great hall from the brightness of the front lawns, you had only two things on your mind: a fresh cup of coffee and your need for a new jacket.

The squeaking of your sneakers echoed off the high stone walls and reverberated throughout the room, no doubt audible throughout the empty building. It was difficult for sound to permeate the castle’s infrastructure; the birdsong, the wind, all of it was muffled. You could almost forget that there was a world outside of the site’s sprawling grounds, that you hadn’t been transported back into the dark ages.

The emptiness was unnerving, especially during your first few days on the job, but you’d quickly grown to love it while it lasted. The serenity wouldn’t last long- not when, in about an hour, the castle would be swarming with tourists and their ankle biters.

“‘Morning Sam,” you murmured blearily as you dumped your bag onto the security kiosk’s counter, rifling through it for your employee ID. 

“Guess again,” a cheery voice greeted you, and you paused. Blinking up at the person behind the glass, you felt your eyebrows shoot up so fast that it almost hurt. The grin that spread across your face was painful in its own right, wide and broad.

“Tubbo! I didn’t know you were working today,” you beamed, sleepiness forgotten as you greeted the teen. His grin, coupled with a bright gleam in his eye, was even brighter than your own.

Tubbo shrugged, a mirthful gleam in his eye as he took your offered ID and scanned it into the security system with deft fingers. The bright glow of the computer screen illuminated his youthful features and compact, soft face, turning his skin a ghostly shade of pale blue. Catching your eye, he grinned mischievously.

No doubt about it. If Tubbo died and somehow came back, he’d be a poltergeist.

Although he was only eighteen, he’d been working at the site for three years; much longer than you, barely a month in. Security, site maintenance, guiding tours- he’d done them all. The two of you had grown close, what with all the time you’d spent around each other, and although you would be hard-pressed to admit it, you had begun to think of the kid as a little brother.

“Sam was sick today, and couldn’t come in.”

You nodded sagely. “Ponk?”

“Ponk,” he agreed.

Despite the fact that you could count the number of times you’d met Ponk on two hands, it’d been enough for you and the rest of your coworkers to develop a healthy fear of her. She was perfectly nice, if a bit of a prankster, but when it came to Sam’s workaholic tendencies…?

You winced. He definitely needed the rest, but you did not want to know what atrocities Ponk had committed in getting him to stay home for the day.

The computer beeped, and Tubbo slid your ID back through the slot in the glass with a grin. “I heard you’re chaperoning some ghost hunters this weekend.”

Rolling your eyes, you chuckled. “Yeah. It’s kind of stupid, but I’m getting paid overtime for it, so.”

“Really?” he hummed, tipping his head to the side and cupping his chin in his palm. “Sounds like someone’s a skeptic.”

You hesitated.

“I don’t… know,” you said, drawing the words out. “As far as I’m concerned, the spookiest thing in this castle the lack of air conditioning. I’ll mind my own business, and so can the ghosts- spirits, or whatever.”

“Fair,” Tubbo snickered, his grin widening into something with entirely too many teeth. “You’ll have to tell me what show came by. I want to watch the footage when the episode releases.”

“Yeah, yeah. See you later, Tubs,” you sighed, ignoring his blatant attempt to psyche you out.

“Good luck!”

Kentillie Hold was many things to many different people. To you, it was the place where you spent your working hours, spouting scripts to visitors and their bored children. To historians, it was the crowning jewel of an ancient kingdom to rival Britain’s own, and the setting for one of the most brutal executions in history. To tourists… it was pretty and a good place to pose for Instagram pictures.

And it was, apparently, one of the most haunted places in England. At least, according to all the ghost hunters and paranormal enthusiasts that swamped the place, it was.

If you had been asked if you believed any of those claims a month ago, you would’ve called bullshit. Since your childhood, ghosts had always been a scare tactic that’d been used against you to, whether it be just to elicit some sort of reaction, or coerce you into doing something out of fear.

Years had passed, and you’d long since come to the realization that ghosts weren’t something to be afraid of- because they weren’t real. It was kind of ridiculous, the idea that the spirits of the dead had returned to the world of the living to just… hang out?

However, since your time spent at Kentillie, you were beginning to reconsider your stance on the subject.

It was easy to imagine that a place like the Hold was filled to the brim with ghosts. It was old- very, very old. Though there’d been no written record of when it was built, it had been estimated to be around 1040- almost twenty years earlier than Berkhamsted Castle. The stone walls and portcullis were crumbled and grey with age, with vines of ivy and climbing roses continually threatening to overtake the structure entirely.

Entire sections of the castle were forbidden for both staff and visitors to enter because of the rot that had done away with the castle for years before its restoration. One of the maintenance men actually had to quit because, while taking a shortcut through the restricted rooms, he had fallen through the floors and into the dungeons.

The Hold needed a lot of maintenance, too. It seemed like every other week something needed to be repaired or replaced. In fact, you’d heard that over the weekend the mirrors in the King’s Chambers had needed to be deep-cleaned. Something about the metal backing rusting and causing red fluid to start leaking out of the glass?

You had only held your job for a brief time, but that was more than long enough for you to begin to notice the… odd happenings within the site’s halls. Stuff- yours and your coworker’s- consistently disappeared and reappeared in spots they definitely weren’t in before. Guests mentioned hearing disembodied voices near closing hours, footsteps that followed them down the hall; movement out of the corner of their eyes that, when they turned to investigate, revealed nothing there.

The earnestness with which they recounted these events was enough to make even the most hard-core skeptic waver in their beliefs. Unnerving to say the least- especially when you were a witness of some of these encounters yourself.

You did your best to put it out of your mind, but more often than not you felt watched. The sensation of intangible eyes boring holes into you during your work shifts was a familiar one. Random chills, goosebumps, and running into inexplicably cold patches of air, even more so.

Acknowledging it only invited childhood fear back, so you didn’t. At least, not consciously.

More importantly than the Hold’s age or the toll that time had taken on it in reinforcing the mythology of paranormal happenings was the history held within its hallowed halls; the long, winding tale of one of the most powerful (and obscure) royal lineages to ever exist, and of a betrayal that rivaled the drama of the Ides of March.

“Do any of you know who the last reigning monarch of Kentillie Hold was?” you asked politely, gaze sweeping over the faces of the tour group you were leading. They stared at you, faces blank and uncomprehending. Someone coughed.

After checking in with Tubbo, you’d been launched into the routine that dictated your day-to-day work life: you stowed your stuff away in the staff room (which was really just a repurposed part of the cellar), changed into your uniform, and prepped for the tours that you were slated to corral. It was well past noon and you were leading your fourth- and most boring- group of your shift.

Despite the difficulty, you kept your smile staunchly plastered across your face. It wasn’t very often that you met someone who knew, given how deep the Herobrines were in the British monarchy’s shadow. However, having to explain the same thing over and over again to people who rarely cared was… tiring, to say the least.

Since it was a weekday, there were fewer people visiting. The ballroom was quiet, the hushed voices of guests barely audible against the rush of wind outside the small, port-like windows. Your voice was the loudest by far, all those Drama lessons you’d taken helping you project your voice to every corner of the space.

Before you could continue, resigned to your fate, a tiny hand shot up into the air. “Eret Herobrine!”

Your eyebrows flickered up as you gazed down at the little girl who’d answered your question, a determined gleam to her eye as her gaze met yours. Softening, you graced her with the most genuine smile you’d given throughout the duration of the tour.

“Very good!” you enthused. “They were the seventh and last reigning monarch of Herobrine.”

Stepping to the side, you gestured to the painting that’d been hung directly behind you. At your cue, the light coming through a nearby window strengthened, setting the bold colors that comprised the work alight with a fiery vibrance. “This portrait here depicts him at the height of his rule, right around the time of his coronation.”

The tourists ooo’d and ahhh’d, some of the more industrious taking out their cell phones or cameras to snap a pic. You couldn’t blame them for their enraptured reactions- you’d felt much the same the first time you’d seen it.

That painting- ‘Winter After The Coronation’- was one of the many mysteries of the Hold. It was ancient, but somehow throughout the years, it had managed to remain as pristine as the day it was framed. Whether it was because it was found stored within the walls of the castle, far away from the elements, or through some method of sealing or making paint that made it immune to weathering, the artistry was pristine.

And oh, was it breathtaking.

Brought to life on the canvas was the likeness of a tall, aristocratic figure, clothed in a furred red cape and dripping with gold. They were standing in a garden, snow falling in thick flakes and tangling in their long, curly dark hair; catching in their eyelashes and clinging to the branches of holly and yew that framed their face like a thorny crown.

Somehow, the painter had managed to capture the texture and feel of the expensive fabrics draped across his form, the play of light across his face, and the cool flush that the biting wind brought to his face. Eret’s eyes were dark and warm, his brows arched and expression serene. The suggestion of a smile lingered around the lines of his mouth- like he knew a secret that you didn’t.

“As you all can see, she’s not wearing a crown,” you extrapolated after allowing the visitors to admire the work for a few moments, drawing their attention back to you. “This is just one of the many mysteries surrounding Eret and her reign. Paintings were extremely expensive to commission, and so most royals in the Herobrine line only had their portraits taken once or twice in their lifetime.

“So, why would Eret choose not to appear in their crown, as so many of their predecessors did? Why would they remove their most defining mark of status, one of the only things that could’ve been used to identify them once they’d passed on?”

The little girl who had spoken up frowned. “Maybe he thought it was ugly.”

You laughed, turning your head to look at the canvas once more. The painted eyes almost seemed to stare back, hidden truths swirling within their depths.

“I guess we’ll never know. It’s not like we can call her up and ask her,” you joked, earning a few smiles from the peanut gallery. It was muscle memory to glance away from your tour group while they chattered amongst one another and make a sweep of the room, checking for any guests that might’ve wandered away. 

Movement from the corner of your eye drew your gaze.

Squinting, you hazarded a step closer to the source of your distraction, one of the many mirrors that dotted the walls. Some insane interior designer had gone absolutely crazy with mirrors- almost every vertical surface was covered with them, and they were large. We’re talking floor-to-ceiling, non-stop reflective action.

Now that you were looking at it, nothing seemed amiss… but you could’ve sworn you saw something. You were confident enough in your suspicion to draw even nearer, close enough to touch the glass surface if you reached out.

There- at the very edge of the mirror, you barely caught the flutter of a cape sliding out of view.

You blinked once, twice, three times, feeling your heart pick up in pace. You glanced behind you. Nobody was wearing anything resembling what you’d seen- except, perhaps, the elegant old woman in the red trench coat that was perusing the floor, arm delicately linked with her husband’s.

Leaning back, you smoothed your hands down the shirt of your uniform, taking slow, measured breaths. Nothing else appeared in the mirror, and you felt yourself begin to calm down. You even managed to force out a breathy chuckle.

Oh, you would be having words with Tubbo later. The dude must’ve been more effective at freaking you out than he really was.

You pointedly ignored the prickling sensation as every hair on your body stood on end.

Ushering the group along, you led them through the dark hallways that wound throughout the interior of the Hold. Your path was lit only by the flickering beeswax candles that dotted the walls every ten paces or so; you pointed them out to your tour group, remarking how, back in the day, they used tallow candles made from animal fat instead.

Only one place was left for you to visit before this particular tour was over, and that was the Hold’s most famous room: the Royal Suite.

Located on the uppermost floor, the sprawling chambers took up almost the entire level- with only a little bit of space for the receiving room, where guests could sit and have tea. 

Unlike the rest of the castle grounds, the Royal Suite and the adjacent areas were completely forbidden for guests to enter by themselves. Only tour groups were allowed to access them, so the delighted gasps and assorted sounds of awe that arose as you pushed open the heavy cherrywood door were… pretty par for the course, actually.

If you had to pick which part of Kentillie grounds was your favorite, you’d be a dirty liar if you didn’t at least mention the opulent rooms that awaited you beyond the open doorway.

When the castle was restored, the most work and effort was put into the Royal Suite. According to what records were available, this was where the Herobrine family’s reigning monarchs ate, slept, and lived; it was a testament to the wealth they’d gathered throughout their long stewardship of the British Isles.

You watched with keen eyes as the guests spread out, gaping at the craftsmanship that had gone into every inch of the connected chambers.

Detailed paintings of wildlife covered the walls, depicting everything from gnarled forest trees to different kinds of birds, foxes, and weasels. The floors were polished to a mirror glaze, made of some type of dark red granite. Overhead, porcelain chandeliers that burned with a thousand little candles cast rainbow-colored light throughout the room.

Plush carpets, woven thick enough that your feet hardly made a sound as you walked across them, padded the center of the space. Right on top of it was the canopy bed- one of the biggest beds, in fact, that you think you’ve ever seen.

Were you to lay down upon it lengthwise, you would have at least another half-meter or so of space on either end. The mattress was overflowing with pillows- the expensive horsehair kind that looked so overstuffed they might explode at any moment; each richly colored and embroidered with delicate furls of ferns.

To the right, you could see the short hallway that led to the cordoned-off bath chamber. Although it was forbidden to enter- something about structural integrity- you could still make out the play of light against the multicolored ceramic tiles that dotted the floor.

If your memory served you correctly, the majority of the space inside was taken up by a gargantuan claw-footed bath that the royalty would use to immerse themselves in perfumed water and flower petals. It was actually quite a flex in the olden times to have a room solely delegated to bathing, seeing as most people couldn’t afford to take them too often. Heating up the water, having servants haul it upstairs, and then only using it once before it was drained… 

Yeah.

To your left was the study, which also had a barrier to prevent any tourists from wandering in and breaking something. Tall bookshelves lined the walls, bracketing a lone desk covered with papers. One of the most interesting things about the Herobrine family was their value of literature and literacy; You think that Eret even wrote a book before she died.

You smirked. Right, you were just getting to that.

There were a few more rooms beyond that, used to hold meetings with local knights and lords- but you weren’t interested in those. No, you were much more focused on the room you were standing in. The one where they were murdered.

Clearing your throat, you gathered your audience before you, herding them into position at the foot of the bed. You spread your arms wide, and with the same amount of drama as an actor about to perform a soliloquy.

“This was His Royal Highnesses chambers,” you exclaimed, allowing your smirk to grow. You winked at the little girl from before, peeking out from behind her mother’s back. “Though some of you might’ve already known that.”

Earning a few chuckles from your audience, you allowed your arms to fall back into a neutral state. “This was where Eret Herobrine at the height of her rule ate, slept, bathed, and occasionally held court. One could say that is was the primary backdrop for her life.

“It was the backdrop for the end of her life as well.”

Stepping to the side, you circled the canopy frame, stopping right beside the headboard. Reaching behind it, you heard your tour group collectively inhale as you drew a long, wicked-looking dagger from out behind it.

“Only two years after their coronation,” you went on, spinning the blade between your fingers, “Eret was slaughtered in cold blood.”

Someone gasped as you stabbed the dagger into the pillow, just about where someone’s head would be if they were laying down. You laughed wickedly, enjoying their momentary shock. It had to be the most emotion you’d elicited from the group yet.

“Their very own personal advisor, a former knight by the name of Dream, snuck up into their chambers late at night and killed them. His plan was to put a new ruler into power: his lover, a lord by the name of George.”

You shook your head, sighing internally at the sheer audacity.

“Of course, he didn’t succeed. Both Dream and George were executed, while those who were accused of aiding them fled the land.

“Ultimately, though, Eret’s death was too much for the kingdom to take, and it crumbled into obscurity not long after. The remains of Kentillie Hold are all that remain of the proud Herobrine legacy, so thank you for booking a tour with us.”

The visitors all clapped politely, and you bowed.

“If you’d like to donate money, please deposit it in the boxes on the first floor.”

As the group dispersed, their hour long tour finally finished, you surreptitiously checked the blankets covered the bed. Although the blade you’d used was obviously plastic, you would still get in trouble if you damaged anything- and you could not afford the hundreds of dollars it would take to fix it if it got torn.

You jolted as something brushed your shoulder lightly, head snapping up to stare suspiciously at the empty space that surrounded you. Before you could begin to question it too much, however, you were distracted by a tug on your pants.

“Can I help you?” you asked, staring down at the little girl whose hands were securely fisted in the fabric of your clothes. Her parents rushed up behind her; the mother pulling the girl away and into her embrace.

“Sorry, she’s still learning about personal space,” the father said sheepishly. He turned back towards his daughter, face softening. “Didn’t you have something to give the nice tour guide, sweetie?”

Shyly, she extracted her arms from her mother’s hold, holding out a crisp twenty dollar bill for you to take.

“Oh!” you said, your previously bemused expression shifting into a gentle smile. “Thank you!”

You shivered as you crouched to take it from here, the temperature of the room seeming to have gone down by a few degrees. Rubbing at your arms, you offered her one last grin before her parents swept her away to the safety of the sunny outdoors.

Or- not so sunny. Shit.

How late was it?

Pulling out your phone, you blanched at the time that blinked up at you from the screen: 6:00 PM. It was well past the point you should’ve been making your way back to the staff room to get changed and drive home, and if you waited any longer you wouldn’t be getting back ot the house until at least midnight.

“Damn it,” you cursed. Luckily, no one else was around to scold you except yourself, the rest of the visitors having long since exited the room.

Starting the long trek to the first floor, you couldn’t dispel the goosebumps that had surfaced all over your body. Normally they would only last so long before they inevitably relaxed- but it was somehow different this time. Like you were reacting to something much different than what you normally dealt with.

The last of your tour group were exiting the building when you finally made it all the way down, breaths heaving and shaky as you momentarily braced yourself against one of the cold stone walls. You frowned down at your wobbly legs, bemoaning your lack of athleticism.

Most of the staff had already left. The majority of the work done in the Hold was either in the mornings or on the weekends, so on days like this the only people left at this hour were you and the security guards that patrolled the grounds. Tubbo was going to pack up soon, probably in about thirty minutes, so you had to be fast.

Maybe that was why you didn’t notice the electricity in the air when you barged down into the cellar-turned-staff room, complaining about the freezing air temperature as you slipped into the changing room.

Maybe that was why you didn’t notice the droplets of blood dotting the floor as you padded to your locker, checking the time once more with a harried expression. The soles of your feet were stained red, leaving sticky, bright footprints like a breadcrumb trail behind you.

Maybe that was why you didn’t notice the figure floating behind you until it was too late- until your hind-brain was screaming at you to run, to hide, to do anything but stay here. 

You could ignore a lot of things, but not your instincts when they were this insistent. Which is why, when the air behind you chilled in an upside-down facsimile of body heat, you finally recognized the storm brewing.

Your body went as still as the grave when you made eye contact with it in the reflection of your phone, breathing shallow. Your heart felt like a bird bludgeoning itself against the cage of your ribs, broken and bloody, and you whimpered softly when it blinked.

Turning slowly around, your breath halted completely when you came face-to-face with that of a corpse. There was no way that the thing standing- floating- behind you was human, although it took the shape of one. 

It’s skin was grey and lifeless, flickering with an inner light. It’s eyes were a pupil-less, pure white that glowed in the room’s shadows. It’s clothes, a loose ruffle shirt and thick woolen pants, were tattered and torn. The shredded edges swirled around it as if buoyed by an invisible wind.

For some reason, it seemed oddly familiar.

But most importantly- most horrifyingly- was the dagger sunk deep within its chest, covering the entire front of its shirt with crimson, viscous blood. As you watched, frozen with a mixture of shock and terror, small drops of it dripped onto the floor and landed with a spatter.

It inhaled, the sound rattling in its ruined lungs, before speaking. If you had to liken what its voice was, it was like the whistling of wind through the Hold’s ruined towers; the sound of the tree leaves rustling, the sound of the beeswax candles guttering.

“Hello.”

You shrieked.

The ghost, because that’s what it was, a goddamn ghost- winced, drifting slightly further away. “Ah. That is… not ideal.”

Half-convinced you were about to pass out, you braced yourself on your locker door, curling up like you were considering shoving yourself inside to escape this entire situation. You actually might, if it got any closer.

It raised its bloodstained hands out in front of itself placatingly, grimacing. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You looked at it, caught in the middle of taking another shuddering breath to scream for help. “Do you expect me to believe that?”

The ghost sighed, which was weird now that you thought about it because it didn’t need to breathe. It smiled awkwardly, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was nervous. “... Hopefully?”

“You’re doing a terrible job at convincing me!” you laughed hysterically. You were kind of starting to hyperventilate at this point, and if you didn’t stop you were going to pass out. The ghost seemed to agree.

“You need to calm down.”

You glared at it. “Thanks.”

It hesitated for a moment. “This is… not how I wanted this to go.”

“How else could this have gone?!”

Pausing, it seemed to be thinking for a moment. You took the time to begin to edge out from your spot, angling for the door. If you moved quickly enough, you might be able to make it out of the building with your life intact.

“You have a point,” the ghost mused. Before you could blink, it was right in front of you again, pale lips curving into a grin. “Let’s try this again, shall we?”

Oh.

You froze, heart leaping into your throat. You realized why it had seemed so familiar, why its appearance had niggled at the back of your brain. The ghost’s visage was a haunting echo of that shown in the same painting you’d seen over and over again for the past few weeks.

The sharpness of its smile, the secretive cast to its face, the way in which it dressed- down to the last detail, you realized. Ghosts are the spirits of the dead, back to walk the earth once more.

“Hello,” Eret Herobrine said, taking your hand in her own. The sensation was weird, to say the least. It was similar to when you would stick your hand out of the car window and feel the wind pushing at it like a physical barrier.

This was like that, but in the shape of a hand.

You shivered as they pressed a chilled kiss to your skin, feeling the curve of their grin like a physical brand.

“Eret,” He murmured, pallid eyes locked on your own. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

@blufr0st​ @itsonlydana​ @amearla​ @bapthadapper​ @redactedsouls​ @sina-the-idiot @icarusthefoolish @blockyshieldmaiden

#mori's monster series #a meal for the children #dream smp x reader #dream smp x you #dream smp x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n #eret x reader #eret x you #eret x y/n #c!eret #c!tubbo #c!nihachu #c!jack manifold #tw: mild language #tw: implied/referenced death #tw: implied/referenced murder #tw: body horror #tw: fainting mention

[doom-nerdo-666]

Hi, I just recently got into DOOM (and found your blog). Do you have any good recommendations for fan doom mods/maps? (they range from the most popular ones to your own personal favorites or little niche levels)

I'm going to see what i can think of because there's always good stuff that not even the Cacowards bring up.

As for mapsets or wads:

Romero's Sigil is obvious as if it should be official.

Memento Mori series

Requiem

Icarus Alien Vanguard

300 minutes of /vr/

Ancient Aliens

Anomaly Report

Alien Vendetta

Back to Saturn X series

Doom 2 Reloaded

Doom 1/2 The Way id Did

Some of the Doomer Board Projects like AUGER;ZENITH and Emerald City

Doom Zero

Doom city which is pretty good for a single map

Epic 2

Good Morning Phobos

Jenesis

Japanese Community Project

Moonblood

Munity

Plutonia 2 and Plutonia Revisited

Rebirth

Scythe 2

TNT Revilution

PhobosDeimos Anomaly

UAC Ultra

Going Down

Doom 64 for Doom 2

Consolation Prize (PS1 Doom and Doom 64 but compatible with gameplay mods)

Whispers of Satan

Note that some of them could be difficult or even have things like DEHACKED enemies or whatever can get in the way of a gameplay mod.

And speaking of gameplay mods:

High Noon Drifter

GMOTA

Combined Arms

Space Hunter

Colorfull Hell

DAKKA

Legions of Bones

Vanilla Doom Plus

Legendoom Lite

MK-Champions

Corruption Cards

TrailBlazer

Project Babel

Supercharge

Samsara

MetaDoom

Doom Delta

D4T

D4V

Final Doomer

Demon Counterstrike

Treasure Tech

Bratwurst

Netronian Chaos

Highway Acceleroid Booster

Eriguns 1/2

Psychic

Cybers Monster Randomizer

La Tailor Girl

Dusted's Pandemonia

Accessories to Murder

Cola 3

Hideous Destructor

Lt Typhon

And for TC stuff

Golden Souls series

Beyong Reality

Strange Aeons

Skulldash

The Edge of Time

REKKR

Reelism 1/2

Adventures of Square

Pirate Doom

StrongHold: Edge of Chaos

Project Uber

Winter's Fury

There's probably still examples i'm missing, so this is what i thought of.

A good way to look for more is see info of people involved like if they have Doomwiki articles or accounts on other websites and see what else they did.

And because this list is already big, you don't have to look most of them right way so feel free to use your time and interest with how you look at them.

Because some of this stuff can be difficult for newcomers like certain wads and mods.

There's also what versions of GZDoom or ZDoom a certain mod could use since some mods might be discontinued while GZDoom gets new updates.

#recommendation #doom #classic doom #id software #someone else's content #doom modding #modding #wad #gzdoom #ask #gameplay mod #map or mapset #total conversion #extra flavor

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth (4x14) | Memento Mori

They are referred to as alien-human hybrids. While scientifically correct, they don’t consider the title to be phenomenologically accurate. They are bound in this corporeal form, but possess no superhuman capabilities or powers to signify alien origin. 

Down to the most minute cell, they are Kurt Crawford. They are the little boy who held his mother’s hand as they were taken from the El Rico Air Force Base in 1973. They are the innovation of men who weren’t satisfied with God’s plan and decided to make their own.

His existence is similar to  a violinist who can play the second movement of Tchaichovsky’s Violin Concerto without missing a note, but who failed to imbue emotion into the song — the audience can recognize the tune, hum along to the melody, but they know deep down that there’s something not quite right.

Perhaps it’s because they were not of woman borne. There was never a mother to nurture them, only the replicas of other missing people. They never experienced what it was like to grow up or figure out their place in the world — they knew their mission the moment electricity lit up their synapses. 

At least Dr. Frankenstein could see his creation was a crime against nature; even Mary Shelley couldn’t conjure the horror of a monster masquerading as a man. Perhaps the fact that the alien-human hybrids looked like the Syndicate’s loved ones is their punishment for defying the laws of science.

Regardless, the Crawfords’ pragmatism began to fade alongside the health of all the women who suffered just so they could exist. He knew some of the other series didn’t feel the same. The others thought this intervention in evolution was the key to a better world without considering who they would be making it better for.

Why bother with the betterment of humanity if there were no humans left?

John Locke always said that humans enter the world with a tabula rasa, that a person’s environment nurtures who they are to become. Jean-Jacques Rousseau contended that humans enter the world with a predestined morality, that people are innately good without interference.

But what about them? What is destined for a creature borne of fluid and test tubes, guided by the hands of cruel men?

But then again, it would be an insult to claim innocence in the grand scheme. The Gregor Series may have been evil when they cloned the DNA of defenseless children, but the Crawford Series was still using the genetic material harvested from the same project they sought to destroy. The ova from the MUFON women were an integral part in piecing together the genetic puzzle of who they were, but it didn’t make it any easier whenever they saw the women begin to deteriorate.

The list was getting longer by the day;  Edna Cooper, Lottie Holloway, Betsy Hagopian, Penny Northern, soon to be —

“Scully.”

Kurt bowed his head and tried to pretend that their voices didn’t echo around the tiny apartment. For all the bravado Agent Scully was feigning, Agent Mulder matched her with unconcealed fear. This was one of the facets of humanity that made him feel alien. She was dying, and they were fighting. Earlier she had even said she was “fine” while blood poured out of her nose.

He saw death every day. Maybe not first hand, but every file referenced, every lead followed, and every medical chart the Crawfords looked at was laden with it. It seemed to him that wherever death tread, grief and despair were close behind. The losses of the MUFON group didn’t merely extend to the women who died, but the families left behind. 

All of the Kurt Crawfords believed that was uniquely human: the desire to live one’s life in the company of others, to bond with others and care for each other. They wanted to believe their desires to protect the MUFON women was evidence that their existence meant something more. They wanted to exist outside the confines of what the Syndicate had planned for them.

But the Agents standing in front of him whispering with trembling breaths went against all he’d learned about human relationships. There were no hugs of reassurance or words of comfort, yet their gazes held an intimate yearning for each other that reached a depth Kurt couldn’t fathom.

Even as the woman rushed out of the apartment, sparing a sideways glance in the hallway mirror to check for dried blood, Agent Mulder’s eyes never left her. The moment the door shut, the man’s entire body seemed to deflate, his head bowing down as his shoulders curved inward. Agent Mulder raised his hand to his mouth and rubbed the short hairs growing across his skin.

Agent Mulder looked like he might vomit or start crying at a moment's notice, and it struck Kurt that maybe what he was witnessing was one of the most important elements of being human he hadn’t experienced yet. 

Love.

Kurt couldn’t help but think it looked painful, but maybe that was the laws of equivalent exchange at work. He supposed someone could only feel such intense despair and profound loss because they’d known joy and contentment.

“How soon-“ Agent Mulder started, pausing to take a measured breath. “Do you know how long ago Penny found out about her cancer?”

“Within the past year,” Kurt replied, hoping the Agent would accept this answer so that he wouldn’t have to admit it had only been a couple of months.

The answer was grim nonetheless and they both knew it. Kurt could see Mulder tying to could every grain in the proverbial hourglass Scully had left, and he knew it would be a matter of time before he was crushed under the weight of the spent sand.

“Did Betsy have any files on Scully at her place?”

Kurt knew she didn’t, not really, but he could tell Mulder needed to feel like there was something he could do to help her. So Kurt did the most human thing of all.

“I think she did.”

Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Archive of Our Own!

@gaycrouton

#all eyes lead to the truth #x files #fanfic #x files fanfic #kurt crawford #memento mori #4x14 #cancer arc #mulder #scully #msr

[gear-project]

You've probably been asked this before but, if Strive were to have a guest character from any and I mean any media be it game,anime, or even..movie ect. Who'd you want it to be? My own choice this may be ridiculous but, someone from Digimon Specifiically Beelzemon.

Guilty Gear is a pretty long-standing fighting game series... so a lot of things over the years might mesh well with it:

God Eater, Code Vein, Vampire Hunter D, Monster Hunter, etc. even Bioboosted Armor Guyver gets an honorable mention...

But... I think the one character that Ishiwatari would want to add to the roster the most would have to be:

DARK SHNEIDER... from BASTARD!!

There's several underlying reasons for it... and he's already voiced his strong opinions on the series' influence on his game series.

As for myself... hmm... who would I want?

Much as I love Guts from Berserk, I'm not sure he'd be a good fit.

Nightmare from Soul Calibur??? Not quite it either.

Even Jack Garland from Stranger of Paradise: Final Fantasy Origin would be a crazy pick from me...

...Possibly even Haruko Haruhara from FLCL would be the more "organic" choice (but we already have I-No).

I'm also a huge fan of Yoshitora Tokugawa from Samurai Shodown... but I don't think he hits the right notes for this tune of an idea...

Nope... I think... of all the characters that would be best suited... my choice would have to be:

RAGNA=THE=BLOODEDGE.

Now, I know what you're thinking... BlazBlue: it's already a famous ARC System Works game... and GGvsBB has always been a dream crossover.

That's NOT IT, though!!!

Ragna represents the "other side" of Ishiwatari's history developing fighting games... and showcasing another "possibility" in Guilty Gear's realm would impress not only the current GG Strive fanbase, but also pay homage to one of Ishiwatari's oldest friends: Toshimichi Mori!

Ishiwatari and Mori have been working together for years, so even if Mori retired, they would still do things together off and on. And BlazBlue's music was one of those projects.

Hence why I think Ragna is a special case... he represents all the possibility that these two creators shared and put their heads together on as friends and also, Ragna embodies Hard Rock and Heavy Metal with his "Rebellion" just as much as Sol Badguy and other GG characters do!

#Ideas #Crossover Character

[mirsvintagesonytv]

OKAY MIR READS STORMBRINGER: THE SERIES!!

PROLOGUE THOUGHTS!!

- I really like use of monster imagery because it’s so clear that it’s foreshadowing Guivre and Arahabaki ‘it could even be the fangs and saliva of a starving beast’ yeah that’s abt Arahabaki alright.

-‘This forest’s wicked form that day was light.’ Implies destruction for the greater good -> Chuuya using corruption even tho he’ll lose the ability to tell whether he’s human AND it being this thing that destroys him from the inside out but being their only choice to stop Verlaine

-References to fire and the colour orange all metaphors for Chuuya. he is the forest fire lolz mitski core!!! But fr I like the use of semantics to both describe the surroundings and also clearly describe Chuuya. Like ‘crackling of the trees as they burned sounded like guttural screams’ that’s so CLEARLY a reference to corruption I’ll die.

-‘A hole in the night that all living creatures naturally feared: a forest fire.’ People fearing Chuuya and his power (Shirase in 15, Mori, his enemies etc) fear of corruption/of a god/Arahabakis power. All dear it because it’s not of natural descent it’s inhuman, godlike. A hole insinuating Arahabaki to be an insatiable beast; once u open it it can’t be stopped. That’s also implied w the forest fire imagery. People scared of Chuuyas power bc of destructive nature bc it’s like a forest fire. So ppl like Mori harness it and keep it controlled whilst ppl like Shirase in 15 try to put it out from fear (the stabbing).

- ‘The body was bent straight down the middle, and one of its wings stuck out like a gravestone.’ BRUTAL foreshadowing The flags deaths and how unnatural/horrific they were.

-‘The aircraft’s torn body’ foreshadows albatross’s death. Obvs the comparison between planes and birds and his name lmao but also because his whole area in the mafia is transport….aha…funny….

-I LOVE LOVE LOVE the section w the boy Adam saves in it because he’s also a good look at Chuuyas inner character.

-‘A mere child like him, however, could only attempt to mimic what the adults were doing.’ Something intellectual about the chain of abuse and where the responsibility/accountability should fall. Chuuya mimics what the adults around him do and try to emulate them. He doesn’t act like a kid. Something about how not many characters are inherently bad people in bsd, they just grew up with shitty role models and learned from what they saw which Yk on the streets and in the mafia isn’t exactly a very good baseline to learn how to treat people or how you should be treated.

-‘There might be survivors.’ Chuuyas inherent optimism/hope despite it kind of dwindling. He doesn’t automatically see the worst in people and tries to see the good.

-‘The adults would surely praise him if he saved someone. He imagines himself being lauded a hero, and his heart began to race.’ He wants to be useful, wants to help people/be acknowledged by those he respects. It’s lit him okay.

-‘But his ambitions proved deadly.’ Every time he gets his hopes up something bad happens to pull them down. His ambition to become an exec??? His optimism and hope dwindling as he loses more people.

-FAVOURITE WHITE MAN ADAM!!!! ‘“I had no idea commercial airplanes experienced so much turbulence when they landed.’ REAL UR SO REAL ADAM COMEDIC AUTISTIC GENIUS. ‘It doesn’t help that these doors just seem to pop off,either”’ chortled. Giggled. Chuckled.

-‘as he dubiously cocked his head to one side.’ Dubious little creature getting up to mischief.

-‘Human society considers it rude to not introduce oneself, yes?”’ Lit how I feel as an autistic person ur so real adam

That concludes my prologue thoughts !!! Slayed fr.

#bsd #bsd analysis #bsd stormbringer #bsd chuuya #bsd adam #bungou stray dogs #skk #dazai osamu #mir speaks #mirs bsd rambling #Mir reads stormbringer: the series #mirs thoughts #Adam so quirky I love him #slay