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ineffmoth · 1 day

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i already admitted my covid supernatural shut-in meltdown era so here's some snippets of a wip that i just stumbled across

the archangels all become mortal post-season 5 and god tells them the only way to get their grace back is for castiel to decide to give it back to them of his own free will, without them telling him to. and then they go on a road trip together.

“This is why I left Heaven in the first place,” God said wearily. “All the arguing. It was so noisy all the time. And don’t get me started on the trumpets.”

“What do you mean, the trumpets?” Gabriel asked. “You love the trumpets! The trumpets were your idea!”

“Everything was my idea,” God said. “But not all ideas are winners. Writers figure that out real fast, let me tell you.”

“I can’t believe this,” Gabriel said to Raphael. “All these years I’ve been blowing that stupid horn and now He says He doesn’t even like it.”

“Your horn is lovely, Gabriel,” God said. “It’s just that sometimes silence is the sweetest music of all.”

“Whatever,” Gabriel said. “I lost that thing ages ago anyway.”

“Did you?” Lucifer asked with interest.

“You are not allowed to blow my horn,” Gabriel said, pointing a finger at him.

“I never said anything about blowing your horn,” Lucifer said innocently.

“I’m preemptively outlawing it,” Gabriel said. He turned to Raphael and Michael. “Neither of you are allowed to blow it, either.”

“Please,” Michael said. “Like I would ever want to blow your horn.”

“I already have a trumpet,” Raphael said. “Why would I want to blow yours?”

“I don’t know,” Gabriel said. “Why do you do anything? Spite, probably. But if you do, just know that I’ll be blowing yours right back.”

“You will not,” Raphael said, affronted.

“I will so,” Gabriel said. “I’ll slobber all over your trumpet and blow as hard as -”

“Nobody is blowing anyone’s horn!” God interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose.

----------

“I have been reliably informed that road trips are a common method for conflict resolution among human social groups,” Castiel said. “I’ve seen many examples of such behavior during my time here on Earth.”

“Because the Winchesters are the picture of healthy family relationships,” Lucifer said dryly.

“Not just the Winchesters,” Castiel said. “There are also many movies and books on the subject. I saw the beginning of one such film while staying at the home of Sam and Dean’s friend Bobby last month.”

“Just the beginning?” Raphael asked dubiously.

“Yes, it was interrupted by a breaking news segment about a terrorist attack in Washington, D.C.,” Castiel said. “Another sign of the coming Apocalypse. I never saw the rest of the movie, but it featured two women who -”

“Thelma and Louise drive the car off a cliff at the end, Castiel,” Gabriel interrupted.

Castiel frowned.

“There was no indication in the film that the car was capable of flight,” he said.

“It wasn’t,” Gabriel said.

Castiel visibly deflated.

“Well,” he said. “I already bought the van.”

----------

“Hold a moment,” Raphael said, reaching out to grab Castiel’s wrist. “Is this how you’ve been paying for everything, Castiel?”

“Yes,” Castiel said. “The plastic cards are filled with money. Dean explained it to me.” His brows furrowed slightly. “Human currency has become quite complicated over the centuries. I’m still not entirely sure what ‘bitcoin’ is or how it works.”

“And where did you get these plastic cards?” Raphael asked.

“Dean -”

“- gave them to you,” Raphael finished, plucking the rectangle out of Castiel’s fingers and bringing it closer to himself for examination. “Yes. I can see that. This says, ‘Benjamin Dover.’”

Lucifer sighed loudly and lolled his head back to look at the ceiling, clearly bored with the exchange. “Would you just pay already so we can go?”

“We can’t allow Castiel to use these,” Raphael said.

“Why not?” Lucifer asked.

“Yes,” Castiel said, glancing between them. “Why not?”

“Because,” Raphael said, “this is credit card fraud.”

Castiel’s spine went ramrod straight. He blinked in confusion, lips curled in a small frown as he looked from the credit card to the snacks on the counter to the read-out on the cash register and then back to Raphael.

“It’s what?” he finally asked.

“Credit card fraud,” Raphael repeated. “When you use these, you’re lying about who you are and your intention to repay the amount you’ve spent at the end of the month.”

There was a pause.

“But that’s theft,” Castiel said flatly.

“Ding ding, we have a winner,” Lucifer said.

“Fraud is punished in the eighth circle of hell, brother,” Raphael went on. “Few acts are considered more vile.”

Castiel looked to Lucifer for panicked confirmation.

“It’s true,” Lucifer said, scrunching up his nose in a commiserating smile. “Specifically the pit of snakes for this one, I think. Treason’s still worse. And fratricide and patricide.” He gestured to himself.

“Oh - oh God,” Castiel said. His face was pale. “What have I done? All this time…”

“What’s the hold up?” Gabriel chose that moment to ask, elbowing his way between Raphael and Castiel to dump an armload of Twinkies and Hostess cupcakes onto the counter. “I thought we had places to be.”

“Castiel has just discovered the evils of credit card fraud,” Lucifer informed him from behind an ill-concealed yawn.

“So?” Gabriel asked. He examined Castiel’s horror-stricken expression. “You’ve been running with the Winchester bros for how long and you didn’t know where their money came from? Geeze, nobody tell this guy what hustling pool means. Hurry up and pay already.”

“Gabriel, this is fraud,” Raphael said, scandalized.

“And you know who’s getting defrauded?” Gabriel asked. “Credit card companies. Do you know what a credit card company is, Castiel?”

“No,” Castiel admitted warily.

“A credit card company,” Gabriel said in a patronizing tone, “is a bunch of super rich guys who loan money to people who don’t have any, and then charge interest until the loan is repaid.”

“But that’s usury,” Castiel said.

“Exactly!” Gabriel said, clapping a hand down on his shoulder. “That’s, circle what?” He glanced at Lucifer.

“Circle seven,” Lucifer helpfully supplied.

“Circle seven!” Gabriel said. “So who cares if you steal from ‘em? The way I figure, the sins basically cancel each other out.”

“That is not how it works,” Raphael said tightly.

“And anyway, we’re on a mission from God, aren’t we?” Gabriel continued, ignoring him. “A real life divine pilgrimage, ordained by the Lord on High Himself. That used to mean something back in the old days. Allowances should be made for the gravity of our circumstances, don’t you think?” He glanced slyly at Raphael and raised his eyebrows. “A little lying’s fine when it’s for the greater good, wouldn’t you agree, brother?”

Raphael scowled.

“...I suppose you may have a point,” he grit out. Mouth set in a grim line, he handed the card back to Castiel. “Go ahead, Castiel. Pay with this false money.”

“If you’re sure,” Castiel said, still looking doubtful.

He turned back to the counter and offered the card to the cashier once again. The cashier stared down at it, then looked back up at the four men before him.

“You guys realize I’ve been here the whole time, right?” he asked. “I heard everything you just said.”

“And?” Lucifer asked, straightening out of his casual lean. He crossed his arms and made steady eye contact with the cashier, using Sam’s full height to his considerable advantage.

The cashier swallowed and took the card.

#supernatural #wrot #i shan't finish it because the supernatural part of my brain is like a little room full of toxic sludge that i tactfully ignore #impossible to watch that show without going full conspiracy about it. like the dragon age mage rights of television shows #but i'm funny and these exchanges delight me so have them thanks

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jokerislandgirl32 · 4 months

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You’re A Mean One, Mr. Zach

Hello all, here is the Zach themed Christmas song parody you asked for! You’re a Mean One, Mr. Zach! I had so much fun making this, and I decided to record myself singing it too! RIP my voice after having bronchitis for 2 weeks, lol. I hope you all enjoy, I’m putting the lyrics, with some accompanying Zach screenshots, below the cut because this is a looonnng post!

You're a mean one, Mr. Zach You really are a brat You're as cuddly as a skeleton You're as charming as an snake, Mr. Zach You're a bad guy with greasy black hair!

You look like a vampire, Mr. Zach You’re helpless without your Zachbots Your brain is full of evil schemes You've got toxic sludge in your soul, Mr. Zach I would totally touch you with a twenty-two-and-a-half foot pole! Uhhh, just kidding…

FYI: 22 is Zach’s favorite number, so I had to use it!

You're a vile one, Mr. Zach You exterminated all the termites in your house You steal inventions from Aviva You kidnap baby animals, Mr. Zach Given the choice between the two of you I'd free the baby animals!

You're a foul one, Mr. Zach You're a nasty evil jerk You faint at one speck of filth, yet Your soul’s full of pollution, Mr. Zach Three words the Wild Kratts Crew and fandom use to describe you are, and I quote "Skinny, stealing, sneak!"

You're rotten, Mr. Zach You're the king of whining Your heart's in love with tomato soup Stolen from the Wild Kratts, Mr. Zach

FYI: I intentionally whined at the whining part, lol.

Your soul is focused solely on yourself It’s overflowing with hatred for the Wild Kratts, the environment, animals, and anything that stands in your way of becoming the world’s greatest inventor… Even your very own Zachbots that wind up….mangled and tangled by Martin and Chris!

But, if I’m being honest… You excite me, Mr. Zach With your evil little schemes You're a pathetic excuse for a villain And you drive people insane, Mr. Zach You're a greedy, manipulative, liar And a total heartthrob who’s stolen my heart!

#wild kratts #zach varmitech #wild kratts zach #love zach varmitech #you’re a mean one mr grinch #christmas songs #christmas music #song parody #you’re a mean one mr. zach #me singing #I’ve had bronchitis don’t judge me too harshly lol #this took about 3 hours to upload 😭#enjoy #merry christmas #merry christmas 2023 #f/o stuff

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anti-katsuki-lounge · 1 year

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There's something so fcked up about Bakugo being a hero AND one of the main characters with his nasty attitude and that bullying he never fully grew out of.

It really sends the wrong message, if you think about it, to anybody that may be in a toxic relationship that resembles that of Bakugou and Deku. As a kid I used to be absolute garbage with this one other kid, and watching BNHA at that time made me believe I was right and validated my behavior, since "this hero was also like that and he never got any consequences, so why should I??" Not the best message to give a kid with behavioral issues 💀💀💀💀

Thankfully I got help, stopped being a d*ck, grew out of it, and started giving steps to mend our relationship (and thankfully the other person was open and receptive to that), but BNHA sure as hell didn't help make me realize that what I was doing was wrong.

I legit thought—I'm not kidding—'he's a hero and he's doing the same stuff as me, so he must be in the right. And nobody ever says anything to him/calls him out on it, so that's just proving my point (that he's right)'. It was. Yeah. 💀

TLDR; Bakugou you're awful and I hate you with all my heart

First off, I’m really happy about your self growth 😊. I wish you the best 🙌

Secondly, I 100% agree. Katsuki sends awful messages to viewers. Let’s look at all the “consequences” he received for his behavior:

Suicide baiting Izuku: nothing. Even though his own goons call him out on it, nothing happens and it’s completely hand waved away.

Kicking that water bottle and getting trapped by a sludge villain: how the hell was he supposed to know that a stupid bottle had a villain inside of it? And that wasn’t even him doing anything wrong.

Sabotaging Izuku’s score on the Quirk Apprehension Test: nothing.

Nearly killing Izuku in the first battle trial: only told to grow up, but is also complimented.

Savagely beating Ochako: heroes call him out, but then “Mr. Always Right” Shota makes them look like fools despite them being right.

Being chained in the Sports Festival: Caused by his behavior, but the fact it leads the villains to want to kidnap him isn’t his fault as they thought he was victimized by society. Also who the hell chains up a child? I believe he should be locked behind bars, but U.A isn’t a prison and he was only chained cause he was being violent, not for his other behavior.

Getting less offers than Shoto: still gets to work with the Number 4 Hero.

Smacking Izuku and trying to fight All Might on his own: still passes the exam despite getting his shit rocked. Hanta meanwhile fails despite doing far more in his fight.

Being a dumbass and rushing the villains, which leads to his kidnapping: Again, not his fault he was kidnapped and even if he played it safe, there was a good chance he would’ve been kidnapped anyways. After all, the LoV had powerhouses such as Moonfish (who was kicking his ass), Muscular (who’s strong enough to eat blows from OFA), Dabi (who has flames hotter than Endeavor), and Twice (who can clone anyone he touches. He most likely would’ve been kidnapped anyways, but his dumbass didn’t make anything easier.

Failing his Hero License Exam: isn’t alone in that plus he gets it in like a month anyways. He even gets praised by the test scorers several times and gets to show off his fake growth.

Kacchan vs Deku 2: Katsuki gets put on house arrest, but so does Izuku, ya know, the person he dragged out to fight. Not only that, but he also misses out on getting stomped by Mirio AND gets to be a part of Izuku’s secret.

Stabbing Izuku with his costume to the point of brain matter flowing out of him: no one calls him out. It’s played as a “haha” moment.

Him completely misunderstanding Izuku when he went solo and delivering that horrid speech before apologizing: narrative makes him out to be in the right.

Such consequences are basically non-existent or aren’t a direct result of Katsuki’s behavior. As you mentioned yourself, if anything, Katsuki’s behavior ends up being validated, which in turn leaves other people to believe their behavior is validated. It’s a sickening message in a story about heroes.

#anti katsuki bakugou #anti bakugo katsuki #anti bakugo #anti bakugou #mha critical

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funnywormz · 8 months

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Did we ever get that rimmer gender analysis you promised us 🥺🥺🥺 if we did I missed it and I'm so sad and crying

I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK ME LIKE A WEEK TO ANSWER THIS ANON.......i can't quite remember, i think i may have done a small post abt it but it wasn't as detailed as i wanted??? sorry my memory for most stuff is pretty awful rip........

since i'm thinking abt it again now i will put a little rimmer gender ramble under the cut!! it's kinda repeating stuff that i've said in other posts but it's how i feel abt him and his identity, i hope you like it!!!! apologies if it doesn't make sense my brain has been full of sludge lately

OK SO. i think that masculinity has always been a very important part of rimmer's life, but a very toxic form of it. it's clear that his parents prioritised his brothers over him partly because they embodied more traditionally masculine traits, like confidence and physical strength. growing up, rimmer got the message from his parents that to be masculine was to be admired and loved. his parents abused him, and his brothers bullied him, and i think that although rimmer resents them for it he also sees it as being his fault?

i think it's because of this pressure he felt to be gender conforming growing up, that he feels he needs to force himself into some kind of macho man role. he fails at it miserably, and it's obviously not his true self, but he tries to keep it up because at his root, rimmer really does just want to be loved. growing up his parents showed him that their love was conditional, and he assumes everyone else is that way too, so he tries to shape himself into someone he thinks is lovable. unfortunately it only leads to unhappiness for everyone involved bc he's obviously putting up a front but he resents anyone who tries to pry it away.

rimmer's attempts at masculinity are clearly ridiculous, to the point where the show makes fun of him for it too. he's a coward, he's very petty and picky, the show takes every opportunity it can to have him crossdress, and it's sort of a running joke that lister's dick is bigger than his. to anyone around him, it's pretty clear that rimmer is often trying to pretend that he's someone he's not, and the show makes it a comedic thing a lot of the time.

rimmer doesn't know it's obvious, though. he's certainly not good at reading or understanding other people (i also heavily hc him as autistic but that's a post for another day), and i think a lot of the time he assumes he's successfully fooling everyone when he isn't. rimmer also has a longstanding habit of lying and then doubling down when he gets caught in the lie, even if it involves him doing something he finds unpleasant. i think his gender is one of those cases. his attempts at masculinity are "lies", but when that's pointed out to him he refuses to admit it even when it's clear he's putting up a front. admitting that he's not masculine would be, in his mind, admitting that he isn't worth his parents' (or anyone else's) love, and he can't stand that thought.

it's pretty telling, though, that whenever rimmer's inhibitions are removed or part of his hidden inner self is revealed, it's often feminine. when rimmer was infected with the holovirus, it seems like practically the first thing he did was put a dress on. wearing gingham dresses is NOT a universal holovirus thing. dr langstrom definitely wasn't wearing one. that's a RIMMER thing.

when the crew meet the "low" versions of themselves in demons and angels, while all of the other characters get relatively generic "evil" versions of themselves, low rimmer is basically wearing sexy lingerie with a dominatrix look and openly flirts with lister. considering that the lows are all meant to express the parts of the characters that they hate or view as the worst parts of themselves, i think it's a very direct (albeit unintentional?) way of showing rimmer's internalised homophobia and transphobia towards himself.

it's ALSO telling that rimmer specifically accuses ace of doing both gay and feminine things, like "wearing women's underwear" and "whipping the house boy". after all, ace IS rimmer. rimmer resents ace for being a better version of himself, and the most cutting insults he can think of for HIMSELF are insinuating that ace is gnc. stinks of projection to me. i think kryten agreed too, in dimension jump he almost seems to point out that rimmer is projecting before he's interrupted.

for most of the series, rimmer is, to me, someone who is miserable abt being potentially queer and is attempting to suppress it. however, the promised land changes this.

in the promised land, rimmer initially resents his status as a hologram, but by the end of the movie he wears it as a badge of pride. likewise, his hero-sona the "mighty light" is kinda campy, he's wearing sparkly tight fitting clothes with expertly styled hair and all. you could definitely read the promised land's rimmer arc as a metaphor for him accepting himself for being queer, but i would argue there's a self acceptance there that goes deeper. perhaps he's finally accepted that he can be admired AND be more feminine. it's not a big step forward but it's SOMETHING.

rimmer's identity as a hologram is also something tpl reckons with. rimmer fully grapples with realising that his "true" self is dead, that he isn't "real". i think that gender could be a part of it. the movie doesn't touch on it at ALL, to be clear, but as rimmer learns to be confident in who he is now and embrace his status as a hologram, i can't help but feel that his connection to strict gender roles must have also lessened. after all, gender and sex are very human concepts, and he isn't human anymore. being a hologram, he could change his body and voice any time he wanted (or at least any time holly felt like being nice lol). him being a man seems sorta irrelevant in that context. he's out in the middle of space with the last human being left alive. i don't think that a strong sense of gender identity could even really be possible for him when he's so isolated from the world that invented those things, and when he has the ability to play around with it so easily.

this last part is definitely projection, but i just feel like being a hologram has gotta eventually lead to a more nonbinary identity. so much of what we consider sex and gender to be is tied up in our perceptions and interactions and what we feel is expected of us. rimmer doesn't have that anymore. human society is gone, he isn't even human himself........ his parents are dead, too. why should he keep on playing this charade with himself that he doesn't even believe in?

i'm not necessarily sure that canon rimmer would have the self reflection abilities to realise any of this stuff, but in my mind he becomes more comfortable with being nonbinary and queer after tpl. it feels like a natural progression from accepting his status as a hologram to accepting the other parts of himself he used to hate, y’know?

ANYWAYS, i think that's all i can really say on the topic at the moment. this post isn't really an analysis, more of a word vomit about my personal headcanons and things i've noticed. still, i hope you enjoyed reading it and knowing my thoughts about the Rimmer Gender Situation lol. if anyone wants to add anything feel free, but please be nice

#arnold rimmer #arnold judas rimmer #arnold j rimmer #red dwarf

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sonknuxadow · 9 months

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i feel like i need to reread some parts of archie sonic or at least just look up a summary of what happens becuase at some point during my readthrough my brain just turned into toxic sludge and i wasnt registering anything that was going on with the plot i was reading it but i was not retaining the information

#i think the only reason i actually remember what happens in the post reboot comics #is because i had read most of them before and already knew what happens #and also because werehog and chip were there and thats a very easy way to grab my attention #for anyone who wasnt there i read the entirety of archie sonic including spinoffs over the course of 2 months about a year ago #i cant remember the exact number off the top of my head but thats at least 400 issues

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craycraybluejay · 4 months

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people think i'm "rude" for being too blunt/too honest but if i took some kind of uncontrollable truth-telling serum i would be actually suicide-inducingly horrible to be around. i'm honest but trust that i take care to be much more polite, fair, and controlled at most times than I want to. you could not take 5 minutes of me blurting out everything that goes on in my brain in gruesome detail, especially pertaining to You specifically. kindness and courtesy are neither a weakness nor proof of some inherent purity. they are a bore of a chore. and while it is an incredibly irritating chore it is required in order to exist (less) hassled by society.

idk. it's truly annoying to spend much effort and energy on all of everything alone. and after accepting no help will come your way, no ackmowledgement or reward for your work comes either. and not only. instead comes punishment. punishment for the grave sin of not being good enough at pretending like i love small talk and not being good enough at kissing ass and not being good enough at neither keeping my head down and doing nothing nor making waves. not being good enough no matter which way you turn, what weight you pull, how much pain you opt to ignore in favour of pushing onward. there is no prize, no safe space, there is only the anger in the meaningless and base fight to survive. hatred, death, despair, the deep wells of agony. and within it all a part of you screams itself hoarse and then quiet to break the dam. at such high capacity, it doesnt matter of its toxic sludge or just water. "just water" kills everything in its path. tsunamis, typhoons, tropical storms, rainstorms, deadly hail... a little bit builds up and in the right place it can be cried out, or redirected, or simply evaporate in the warm, kind, invigorating rays of the sun. but what then if there is no place for that kind of thing. you are the river above a city and you grow and you grow and come the next storm you may just flatten it all to nothing with everyone inside. the dam allows no space to move or grow smaller. you grow so big you don't know if it's even a river anymore. what you are is some strange unnatural body with a riptide so intense it rivals the wildest ocean tides.

i remember the time i almost got swallowed by a storm riptide clearly. it took just a touch of the water and i am being pulled by a force stronger than anything i have felt before or again, something wild and so much bigger. a storm that no longer wants or has any purpose or even one clear cause... without reason, it doesn't *want* to destroy ships and tug people to their crushed deaths. no. it just-- will. it will do that. it has no will but it will kill you. it will destroy everything. what a beautiful terror. but why in me. tugging tugging tugging. sometimes i wish my weak little kid body got seized by the riptide and that i could not break free at all. that would be an epic death.

#rambles #someone promised me a visit to a rage room!!!! they must deliver!!!!!!#i must admit i do look down on the one that rages like a traumatized little bitch-- dog #at every little thing #the one who-- in the real world-- is too angry and stupid even to shut its mouth when it kills itself #here i am with all this anger you put inside me and its enough to genuinely want to wipe our planet dead #and here i am calmly listening to you air your pathetic grievances while i think of smashing your skull in with this hammer #and you. you... like a little baby given power.#and here i fucking am taking it and trying so hard to maintain. as if it wouldnt be such a relief to just let go #as if i havent envied you for your senseless retarded pursuit of being so unapologetically terrible to people #as if i wouldnt do anything to trade our minds and places and be the stupid eternal toddler #people think the things i occasionally say or do are anger. it is not #how many switches will you flip and buttons will you push until you choose the wrongest one yet #how much longer must i withstand this pressure with my hands under me and my teeth pressed firmly together #how many more times do i have to stop in the middle of acting on instinct. instinct to survive and fight #instinct that will destroy indiscriminately.#if its like this for long enough... do you think water can become fire? youve heard of hell freezing over but have you heard of earth #becoming hell?#again i cant sleep. the energy is suffocating. i need to be held tightly and to tussle till my body gives out #no i need to feel bones crack under me.

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dwn024 · 7 months

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emotional contamination is the most fucked up unfair part of OCD i just want to be able to continue to enjoy m*gam*n unequivocally again without feeling like i am walking facefirst into a vat of neon green toxic sludge by merely saying one of the characters’ names it’s so bullshit i did not do fucking anything. my URL is devoid of meaning now it’s just letters and numbers i can barely bring myself to go near the character whose Name that is anymore because my brain has decided “that is forbidden because it is now covered in Ooze”. BULLSHIT

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queenlua · 1 year

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christmas bird count wrap-up

* our route totally whipped ass. it took me through a bunch of toxic sludge ponds in the industrial part of the city (aka DUCK CENTRAL STATION), and also through a bunch of surprisingly lovely lil parks i’d never heard of

*as i feared & dreaded, i was designated the Gull Identifier TM due to “being” “the” “most” “experienced” “and/or” “best” “birder.” i swore like 18 times per dozen gulls but i think i mostly did an okay job

* i kept hearing star fox 64 voice clips in my head for everything because, uh, that’s how i’ve wired my brain lately ig (i witnessed a seagull DO A LITERAL BARREL ROLL, which did in fact rule, but also triggered Peppy Hare in my head, and every time a count partner was like “plus one crow” i heard it in falco’s “scratch one bogey” voice)

* I FOUND WHERE THE VARIED THRUSHES LIVE IN THIS CITY?!?!?! holy hell love those lil orange space-ship-sounding guys

#birding #also my team was imo the best #i told them to put me wherever they needed me most and i got to bird with two really cool ppl <3

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poeticjackalope · 1 year

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the crushing anxiety of being a bad person am I a bad person??? more than a crush its a dismemberment.

snapping sinew, and bone splintering into bone, and muscle, and flesh, blood parting and pooling between organs as I scoop through toxic sludge slicked body and brain, searching for the good in me. marrow seams between the grooves of my fingerprints, evidence that I was here destroying something again againagain

knawing on tendon, grinding teeth to chalk, animal with nothing worth saving in it. what am I? what am I? plunge cracked nails into the insular cortex and dig dig dig for what I'm looking for what I don't have what I'm missing.

stop thinking about thinking about thinking, maybe then I'll think through all of my thoughts before I let them gurgle up and spill out into this hazardous mess on my shirt. on the floor. on your shoes. I run round and round like a stupid fucking rat in a cage except I'm a me in a cage and there's no cage because I've made up the idea of it myself and honestly a rat would be so much smarter than this.

look at my eyes and find the truth sewn into the lines on my face and tell me what I really am. or hold my hand and embrace me slow and tender and lie to me so I can die like this and know you're lying for my sake.

#we are having a night #struggling with self reflection and #genuinely feeling all of my emotions instead of repressing them #i've come out of dissociation hole #hard and fast #I'm afraid #and crying #what am I doing anymore?#poetry??#poetry #my version of poetry #prose poetry #mental health #lgbtqia+#he/him #transgender

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grollow · 1 year

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In spite of my brain being toxic black sludge the last few days (or maybe because it has been), the brain rot for this story has been really consistently bad. Part of me feels guilty working on it because I have other stuff I want to be writing too, though.

But Blaithin lives rent free in my head and I keep going back to Switchblade Symphony��s “Gutter Glitter” whenever I want to vibe.

The main thing I’m daunted by though is the way she speaks, because depending on which of the three you get, you might get some really painful dialogue. One only talks in rhymes. I’m not that clever. I need to be though. She deserves it.

I’m also mildly terrified I’m going to end up with a more enigmatic antagonist than protagonist, even though I think Levi is great skfbsdkgj

so anyway I’m listening to gutter glitter and staring at creepy dolls instead of writing anything but this counts. I guess. Sort of.

#oc: blaithin #oc: levi #ashe rambles about original fiction #story: everything burns

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individualcontributor · 7 months

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BREAKING SAD

Disclaimer: Depression has been written about and discussed for hundreds of years. Despite advances in understanding its complexities, depression remains one of the most controversial issues today. I recognise the differing, often polarising, viewpoints regarding mental illness. Furthermore, I do not claim to be an oracle of all things depression. This is simply an account of how I am experiencing my version of this affliction.

I suffer from clinical depression. Whilst I’m not proud of it, I’m not ashamed of it either. Why am I telling you this now? Well, because I was just diagnosed with it a few weeks ago. People may think depression hits you overnight (and in some cases it does) but, whilst depression can be obvious, often it’s a sneaky bugger.

You might seem happy on the outside. Smiling, talking to people at parties, saying things like Did you put lime in this hummus? It’s delicious, my face is having such a great time! But you, and others around you may not realise how deeply the depression runs. You just keep going, congratulating yourself on being the “normal” human you are.

Over the past few years the facade began to crumble. It became increasingly difficult for me to make decisions. I had no empathy for anyone, and I started to crave solitude. The worst part was that it became harder to face people, even those I loved. It felt much better to be holed up on my sofa for unhealthy periods of time, which was odd as only a few years ago I was a high-functioning humanoid. Look around you… you’re probably surrounded by other high-functionaries. When I say “high-functioning” I mean, people who are doing stuff. They are doing well in their jobs, making decisions (both important and basic), and organising murder mystery dinners on weeknights (weeknights for crying out loud!)

A common misconception about depressed people is that we’re easy to spot – flailing around, zombie-esque in Dawn of the Depression. Nope, most of us like to keep that shit at home.

However, when it comes to being in the ‘outside world’ with ‘the people’ and the ‘stuff’ it’s possible to trick yourself into being a superhuman/athlete/actor. If you were running track, you’d probably be high-fiving yourself as you lap people.

Then one day you hear the starter pistol go off, but you don’t run. You just stay in the blocks staring down at the asphalt, mesmerised, thinking I feel nothing for this asphalt, I’ll just wait here till I feel something. Everything you thought you were interested in (or thought you should be interested in) goes straight out the window. You liked hanging out with friends? Nope, not anymore you don’t. You liked cycling at weekends? Nope thanks. You liked grocery shopping? Well, no-one really does but screw it, you’re not going to do that ever again. Why? Uh, because that would involve doing something and then there’s all the people… oh the people! And the things and the noises, and the fact that it means leaving the house. I’d rather repeatedly receive an iCloud account issue dialogue box.

You would think this would all be somewhat terrifying, but for me, it wasn’t. It was actually very comfortable. I’d revel in not having to feel feelings. Being numb meant I could just ‘be’ without ‘being’. Turns out this made me a ticking time bomb. See, when you extreme hoard all the feelings (like finding-a-dead-pet-under-the-refrigerator kind of hoarding), you end up with none at all. I let myself feel nothing, all the while a toxic swirl bubbled up inside me and time quickly began to run out.

Now, here’s the really terrifying bit – detonation. I didn’t know when it was coming or how it would happen but I sure as shite was not prepared for it. Detonation of depression and feelings was very clear and simple for me. I can’t remember what, but something was said and instantly my brain snapped from my heart and my body filled with hot, black sludge

Darkness surged through my veins and permeated my eyeballs. All the feelings I’d hoarded over the years were now rushing through me in one go and all I wanted was a one-way ticket back to numbsville. I’d been ensconced in my tiny, numb mind for two decades, and now something was ripping it and me to shreds. Of course I reacted because I was helplessly trying to piece back the ruins of the only mind I had ever known.

There are many reasons as to why this happened. I attribute the lion’s share to my silence. I had an inkling I ignored, an extreme sadness that surfaced twenty years later to teach me various painful yet valuable lessons. I only wish that I had talked to someone about it earlier; that would've at least let some air out of the over-inflated shit balloon I was holding onto.

Thing is, it’s hard to suddenly sidle up to someone and be all “Hey, I think I’m really sad for no reason, any guesses as to why that might be?”. Even your best friends might be like “What? But you were really into that hummus at Dave’s party”. They may take you out more as some sort of exposure therapy. They may even take you away on holiday so you can “relax and heal.” Now, all these things are lovely, and I appreciate having such thoughtful friends, but they may not necessarily understand that, whilst in depression, going on holiday is a fate worse than having to listen to your voicemails.

As I grew up, repression became so much easier, and much more crucial, like breathing or grossing people out by telling them what a Mooncup is. It was yet another one of my dysfunctional lifelines – like a Slanket of thorns (omg…new band name).

Now, as I’m going through treatment, I’m seeing and feeling the repressions of Christmas pasts, scooping out all the trauma which lead me to this point. I watch, anesthetized, as the pain passes in front of me on a lonely airport conveyor belt. All of the bags are mine and I’m forced to watch them circulate, then remove them, and then empty their contents.

The positive in all of this is that I’m not doing it alone. As I mentioned earlier, I’m in treatment and have been for 6 weeks. Reaching out for help is the single best and bravest decision I have ever made.

Depression is like being in an anaconda-esque bind and releasing yourself from it is a process – A process I’m still trying to understand. I mean shit, even some of the sentences you’re reading now were written during deep depression and mania (can you guess which ones? Answer: rhetorical). Look, I’m not writing this to you from a place of recovery (far from it!), I’m writing as I go. As I said at the start, I do not claim to be an expert on this but I do know that, when it comes to depression, you should not suffer in silence. Talk to someone, anyone. I know there are many reasons not to – it hurts, it’s hard, it’s embarrassing, it’s not the right time. Well, it will never be the right time to talk about depression, but it will always be the right decision to talk about it.

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what is Weaboo? Meaning and Explanation

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episode-o · 1 year

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My mental health has gotten a lot better since I’ve moved to Portland. I’m usually fine but sometimes I will have episodes of pretty bad anxiety and depression. It’s almost never as bad as it used to be. However sometimes it just hits a little harder and I’ll think “oh. Suicidal ideations. Haven’t had those for a while” it’s most often around my time of the month. While thanks to birth control I don’t bleed any more I still get symptoms. I also have anemia pretty bad right now so mix that with my current mental state I’m sure you can imagine I’m having a pretty bad brain and body time right now.

I’m just lying in bed right now unable to sleep. Too many things going on in my brain right now. Even though I’m so physically exhausted I just can’t sleep. I was thinking about self harm. Often times when I’m having an episode I rub on my wrist trying to find texture there. With the anemia right now it almost feels like I can feel the blood running through my veins. My mental state is so overwhelming right now I can almost feel it like actual physical pain and I feel like it would give me some sort of release. Just a little bit. Or just different pain I can focus on. I think it would be like fixing a kink in a hose where once it’s done the water will come out a little fast at first but then flow just like normal.

I’m really trying to not be dramatic right now as I know that it’s a bad decision and I know that I’m not going to do anything to myself. However, some dark part of me really feels like it would help for some reason? Like it would release just a little bit of the pressure. And I’m really trying not to say that its dumb, as my feelings and emotions are real and affecting me very strongly right now and sometimes that’s just kind of the way it is. I’m not going to lie to myself and say that it’s a normal thing but it definitely is the way it is right now. I also really keep wanting to ask for help but if I’m being honest here, I really don’t know how. Especially since a lot of my anxiety already stems from feeling like a burden to the people around me. Like how do I tell people I love “hey be gentle with me right now, my brain feels like it’s sinking in tar and I feel like once it completely submerges I’ll drown with it.” I know it’s overly poetic but I regularly compare this mental state to my brain feeling sticky because I feel like if I were to split my skull and poke my brain tar would be a good texture comparison.

I don’t know how to ask for help and to cut the flowery language it fucking sucks. Here I am wanting to beg my friends, my roommate, my partner for any sort of support, but it feels like a task to do. I know if I went to these people I don’t even have to tell them everything they would be willing to at least give me a little support, but even with that knowledge I feel so lonely. And I don’t know how to fix it or do anything about it. So here I sit alone in my bed at 7:37 in the morning feeling bad about myself. Physically and emotionally. It will pass. I know it will. till then I have to brave the world feeling like my body is made of rusty iron and my veins are full of sludge and my brain is suspended in toxic goop.

It’ll be fine I’m sure. Just give me a bit.

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shortnotsweet · 3 years

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Bakudeku: A Non-Comprehensive Dissection of the Exploitation of Working Bodies, the Murder of Annoying Children, and a Rivals-to-Lovers Complex

I. Bakudeku in Canon, And Why Anti’s Need to Calm the Fuck Down

II. Power is Power: the Brain-Melting Process of Normalization and Toxic Masculinity

III. How to Kill Middle Schoolers, and Why We Should

IV. Parallels in Abuse, EnemiesRivals-to-Lovers, and the Necessity of Redemption ft. ATLA’s Zuko

V. Give it to Me Straight. It’s Homophobic.

VI. Love in Perspective, from the East v. West

VII. Stuck in the Sludge, the Past, and Season One

Disclaimer

It needs to be said that there is definitely a place for disagreement, discourse, debate, and analysis: that is a sign of an active fandom that’s heavily invested, and not inherently a bad thing at all. Considering the amount of source material we do have (from the manga, to the anime, to the movies, to the light novels, to the official art), there are going to be warring interpretations, and that’s inevitable.

I started watching and reading MHA pretty recently, and just got into the fandom. I was weary for a reason, and honestly, based on what I’ve seen, I’m still weary now. I’ve seen a lot of anti posts, and these are basically my thoughts. This entire thing is in no way comprehensive, and it’s my own opinion, so take it with a grain of salt. If I wanted to be thorough about this, I would’ve included manga panels, excerpts from the light novel, shots from the anime, links to other posts/essays/metas that have inspired this, etc. but I’m tired and not about that life right now, so, this is what it is. This is poorly organized, but maybe I’ll return to fix it.

Let’s begin.

Bakudeku in Canon, And Why Anti’s Need to Calm the Fuck Down

There are a lot of different reasons, that can be trivial as you like, to ship or not to ship two (or more) characters. It could be based purely off of character design, proximity, aversion to another ship, or hypotheticals. And I do think that it’s totally valid if someone dislikes the ship or can’t get on board with his character because to them, it does come across as abuse, and the implications make them uncomfortable or, or it just feels unhealthy. If that is your takeaway, and you are going to stick to your guns, the more power to you.

But Bakudeku’s relationship has canonically progressed to the point where it’s not the emotionally (or physically) abusive clusterfuck some people portray it to be, and it’s cheap to assume that it would be, based off of their characterizations as middle schoolers. Izuku intentionally opens the story as a naive little kid who views the lens of the Hero society through rose colored glasses and arguably wants nothing more than assimilation into that society; Bakugou is a privileged little snot who embodies the worst and most hypocritical beliefs of this system. Both of them are intentionally proven wrong. Both are brainwashed, as many little children are, by the propaganda and societal norms that they are exposed to. Both of their arcs include unlearning crucial aspects of the Hero ideology in order to become true heroes.

I will personally never simp for Bakugou because for the longest time, I couldn't help but think of him as a little kid on the playground screaming at the top of his lungs because someone else is on the swingset. He’s red in the face, there are probably veins popping out of his neck, he’s losing it. It’s easy to see why people would prefer Tododeku to Bakudeku.

Even now, seeing him differently, I still personally wouldn’t date Bakugou, especially if I had other options. Why? I probably wouldn’t want to date any of the guys who bullied me, especially because I think that schoolyard bullying, even in middle school, affected me largely in a negative way and created a lot of complexes I’m still trying to work through. I haven’t built a better relationship with them, and I’m not obligated to. Still, I associate them with the kind of soft trauma that they inflicted upon me, and while to them it was probably impersonal, to me, it was an intimate sort of attack that still affects me. That being said, that is me. Those are my personal experiences, and while they could undoubtedly influence how I interpret relationships, I do not want to project and hinder my own interpretation of Deku.

The reality is that Deku himself has an innate understanding of Bakugou that no one else does; I mention later that he seems to understand his language, implicitly, and I do stand by that. He understands what it is he’s actually trying to say, often why he’s saying it, and while others may see him as wimpy or unable to stand up for himself, that’s simply not true. Part of Deku’s characterization is that he is uncommonly observant and empathetic; I’m not denying that Bakugou caused harm or inflicted damage, but infantilizing Deku and preaching about trauma that’s not backed by canon and then assuming random people online excuse abuse is just...the leap of leaps, and an actual toxic thing to do. I’ve read fan works where Bakugou is a bully, and that’s all, and has caused an intimate degree of emotional, mental, and physical insecurity from their middle school years that prevents their relationship from changing, and that’s for the better. I’m not going to argue and say that it’s not an interesting take, or not valid, or has no basis, because it does. Its basis is the character that Bakugou was in middle school, and the person he was when he entered UA.

Not only is Bakugou — the current Bakugou, the one who has accumulated memories and experiences and development — not the same person he was at the beginning of the story, but Deku is not the same person, either. Maybe who they are fundamentally, at their core, stays the same, but at the beginning and end of any story, or even their arcs within the story, the point is that characters will undergo change, and that the reader will gain perspective.

“You wanna be a hero so bad? I’ve got a time-saving idea for you. If you think you’ll have a quirk in your next life...go take a swan dive off the roof!”

Yes. That is a horrible thing to tell someone, even if you are a child, even if you don’t understand the implications, even if you don’t mean what it is you are saying. Had someone told me that in middle school, especially given our history and the context of our interactions, I don’t know if I would ever have forgiven them.

Here’s the thing: I’m not Deku. Neither is anyone reading this. Deku is a fictional character, and everyone we know about him is extrapolated from source material, and his response to this event follows:

“Idiot! If I really jumped, you’d be charged with bullying me into suicide! Think before you speak!”

I think it’s unfair to apply our own projections as a universal rather than an interpersonal interpretation; that’s not to say that the interpretation of Bakudeku being abusive or having unbalanced power dynamics isn’t valid, or unfounded, but rather it’s not a universal interpretation, and it’s not canon. Deku is much more of a verbal thinker; in comparison, Bakugou is a visual one, at least in the format of the manga, and as such, we get various panels demonstrating his guilt, and how deep it runs. His dialogue and rapport with Deku has undeniably shifted, and it’s very clear that the way they treat each other has changed from when they were younger. Part of Bakugou’s growth is him gaining self awareness, and eventually, the strength to wield that. He knows what a fucked up little kid he was, and he carries the weight of that.

“At that moment, there were no thoughts in my head. My body just moved on its own.”

There’s a part of me that really, really disliked Bakugou going into it, partially because of what I’d seen and what I’d heard from a limited, outside perspective. I felt like Bakugou embodied the toxic masculinity (and to an extent, I still believe that) and if he won in some way, that felt like the patriarchy winning, so I couldn't help but want to muzzle and leash him before releasing him into the wild.

The reality, however, of his character in canon is that it isn’t very accurate to assume that he would be an abusive partner in the future, or that Midoryia has not forgiven him to some extent already, that the two do not care about each other or are singularly important, that they respect each other, or that the narrative has forgotten any of this.

Don’t mistake me for a Bakugou simp or apologist. I’m not, but while I definitely could also see Tododeku (and I have a soft spot for them, too, their dynamic is totally different and unique, and Todoroki is arguably treated as the tritagonist) and I’m ambivalent about Izuocha (which is written as cannoncially romantic) I do believe that canonically, Bakugou and Deku are framed as soulmates/character foils, Sasuke + Naruto, Kageyama + Hinata style. Their relationship is arguably the focus of the series. That’s not to undermine the importance or impact of Deku’s relationships with other characters, and theirs with him, but in terms of which one takes priority, and which one this all hinges on?

The manga is about a lot of things, yes, but if it were to be distilled into one relationship, buckle up, because it’s the Bakudeku show.

Power is Power: the Brain-Melting Process of Normalization and Toxic Masculinity

One of the ways in which the biopolitical prioritization of Quirks is exemplified within Hero society is through Quirk marriages. Endeavor partially rationalizes the abuse of his family through the creation of a child with the perfect quirk, a child who can be molded into the perfect Hero. People with powerful, or useful abilities, are ranked high on the hierarchy of power and privilege, and with a powerful ability, the more opportunities and avenues for success are available to them.

For the most part, Bakugou is a super spoiled, privileged little rich kid who is born talented but is enabled for his aggressive behavior and, as a child, cannot move past his many internalized complexes, treats his peers like shit, and gets away with it because the hero society he lives in either has this “boys will be boys” mentality, or it’s an example of the way that power, or Power, is systematically prioritized in this society. The hero system enables and fosters abusers, people who want power and publicity, and people who are genetically predisposed to have advantages over others. There are plenty of good people who believe in and participate in this system, who want to be good, and who do good, but that doesn’t change the way that the hero society is structured, the ethical ambiguity of the Hero Commission, and the way that Heroes are but pawns, idols with machine guns, used to sell merch to the public, to install faith in the government, or the current status quo, and reinforce capitalist propaganda. Even All Might, the epitome of everything a Hero should be, is drained over the years, and exists as a concept or idea, when in reality he is a hollow shell with an entire person inside, struggling to survive. Hero society is functionally dependent on illusion.

In Marxist terms: There is no truth, there is only power.

Although Bakugou does change, and I think that while he regrets his actions, what is long overdue is him verbally expressing his remorse, both to himself and Deku. One might argue that he’s tried to do it in ways that are compatible with his limited emotional range of expression, and Deku seems to understand this language implicitly.

I am of the opinion that the narrative is building up to a verbal acknowledgement, confrontation, and subsequent apology that only speaks what has gone unspoken.

That being said, Bakugou is a great example of the way that figures of authority (parents, teachers, adults) and institutions both in the real world and this fictional universe reward violent behavior while also leaving mental and emotional health — both his own and of the people Bakugou hurts — unchecked, and part of the way he lashes out at others is because he was never taught otherwise.

And by that, I’m referring to the ways that are to me, genuinely disturbing. For example, yelling at his friends is chill. But telling someone to kill themselves, even casually and without intent and then misinterpreting everything they do as a ploy to make you feel weak because you're projecting? And having no teachers stop and intervene, either because they are afraid of you or because they value the weight that your Quirk can benefit society over the safety of children? That, to me, is both real and disturbing.

Not only that, but his parents (at least, Mitsuki), respond to his outbursts with more outbursts, and while this is likely the culture of their home and I hesitate to call it abusive, I do think that it contributed to the way that he approaches things. Bakugou as a character is very complex, but I think that he is primarily an example of the way that the Hero System fails people.

I don’t think we can write off the things he’s done, especially using the line of reasoning that “He didn’t mean it that way”, because in real life, children who hurt others rarely mean it like that either, but that doesn’t change the effect it has on the people who are victimized, but to be absolutely fair, I don’t think that the majority of Bakudeku shippers, at least now, do use that line of reasoning. Most of them seem to have a handle on exactly how fucked up the Hero society is, and exactly why it fucks up the people embedded within that society.

The characters are positioned in this way for a reason, and the discoveries made and the development that these characters undergo are meant to reveal more about the fictional world — and, perhaps, our world — as the narrative progresses.

The world of the Hero society is dependent, to some degree, on biopolitics. I don’t think we have enough evidence to suggest that people with Quirks or Quirkless people place enough identity or placement within society to become equivalent to marginalized groups, exactly, but we can draw parallels to the way that Deku and by extent Quirkless people are viewed as weak, a deviation, or disabled in some way. Deviants, or non-productive bodies, are shunned for their inability to perform ideal labor. While it is suggested to Deku that he could become a police officer or pursue some other occupation to help people, he believes that he can do the most positive good as a Hero. In order to be a Hero, however, in the sense of a career, one needs to have Power.

Deviation from the norm will be punished or policed unless it is exploitable; in order to become integrated into society, a deviant must undergo a process of normalization and become a working, exploitable body. It is only through gaining power from All Might that Deku is allowed to assimilate from the margins and into the upper ranks of society; the manga and the anime give the reader enough perspective, context, and examples to allow us to critique and deconstruct the society that is solely reliant on power.

Through his societal privileges, interpersonal biases, internalized complexes, and his subsequent unlearning of these ideologies, Bakugou provides examples of the way that the system simultaneously fails and indoctrinates those who are targeted, neglected, enabled by, believe in, and participate within the system.

Bakudeku are two sides of the same coin. We are shown visually that the crucial turning point and fracture in their relationship is when Bakugou refuses to take Deku’s outstretched hand; the idea of Deku offering him help messes with his adolescent perspective in that Power creates a hierarchy that must be obeyed, and to be helped is to be weak is to be made a loser.

Largely, their character flaws in terms of understanding the hero society are defined and entangled within the concept of power. Bakugou has power, or privilege, but does not have the moral character to use it as a hero, and believes that Power, or winning, is the only way in which to view life. Izuku has a much better grasp on the way in which heroes wield power (their ideologies can, at first, be differentiated as winning vs. saving), and is a worthy successor because of this understanding, and of circumstance. However, in order to become a Hero, our hero must first gain the Power that he lacks, and learn to wield it.

As the characters change, they bridge the gaps of their character deficiencies, and are brought closer together through character parallelism.

Two sides of the same coin, an outstretched hand.

They are better together.

How to Kill Middle Schoolers, and Why We Should

I think it’s fitting that in the manga, a critical part of Bakugou’s arc explicitly alludes to killing the middle school version of himself in order to progress into a young adult. In the alternative covers Horikoshi released, one of them was a close up of Bakugou in his middle school uniform, being stabbed/impaled, with blood rolling out of his mouth. Clearly this references the scene in which he sacrifices himself to save Deku, on a near-instinctual level.

To me, this only cements Horikoshi’s intent that middle school Bakugou must be debunked, killed, discarded, or destroyed in order for Bakugou the hero to emerge, which is why people who do actually excuse his actions or believe that those actions define him into young adulthood don’t really understand the necessity for change, because they seem to imply that he doesn’t need/cannot reach further growth, and there doesn’t need to be a separation between the Bakugou who is, at heart, volatile and repressed the angry, and the Bakugou who sacrifices himself, a hero who saves people.

Plot twist: there does need to be a difference. Further plot twist: there is a difference.

In sacrificing himself for Deku, Bakugou himself doesn't die, but the injury is fatal in the sense that it could've killed him physically and yet symbolizes the selfish, childish part of him that refused to accept Deku, himself, and the inevitability of change. In killing those selfish remnants, he could actually become the kind of hero that we the reader understand to be the true kind.

That’s why I think that a lot of the people who stress his actions as a child without acknowledging the ways he has changed, grown, and tried to fix what he has broken don’t really get it, because it was always part of his character arc to change and purposely become something different and better. If the effects of his worst and his most childish self stick with you more, and linger despite that, that’s okay. But distilling his character down to the wrong elements doesn’t get you the bare essentials; what it gets you is a skewed and shallow version of a person. If you’re okay with that version, that is also fine.

But you can’t condemn others who aren’t fine with that incomplete version, and to become enraged that others do not see him as you do is childish.

Bakugou’s change and the emphasis on that change is canon.

Parallels in Abuse, EnemiesRivals-to-Lovers, and the Necessity of Redemption ft. ATLA’s Zuko

In real life, the idea that “oh, he must bully you because he likes you” is often used as a way to brush aside or to excuse the action of bullying itself, as if a ‘secret crush’ somehow negates the effects of bullying on the victim or the inability of the bully to properly process and manifest their emotions in certain ways. It doesn’t. It often enables young boys to hurt others, and provides figures of authority to overlook the real source of schoolyard bullying or peer review. The “secret crush”, in real life, is used to undermine abuse, justify toxic masculinity, and is essentially used as a non-solution solution.

A common accusation is that Bakudeku shippers jump on the pairing because they romanticize pairing a bully and a victim together, or believe that the only way for Bakugou to atone for his past would be to date Midoryia in the future. This may be true for some people, in which case, that’s their own preference, but based on my experience and what I’ve witnessed, that’s not the case for most.

The difference being is that as these are characters, we as readers or viewers are meant to analyze them. Not to justify them, or to excuse their actions, but we are given the advantage of the outsider perspective to piece their characters together in context, understand why they are how they are, and witness them change; maybe I just haven’t been exposed to enough of the fandom, but no one (I’ve witnessed) treats the idea that “maybe Bakugou has feelings he can’t process or understand and so they manifest in aggressive and unchecked ways'' as a solution to his inability to communicate or process in a healthy way, rather it is just part of the explanation of his character, something is needs to — and is — working through. The solution to his middle school self is not the revelation of a “teehee, secret crush”, but self-reflection, remorse, and actively working to better oneself, which I do believe is canonically reflected, especially as of recently.

In canon, they are written to be partners, better together than apart, and I genuinely believe that one can like the Bakudeku dynamic not by route of romanticization but by observation.

I do think we are meant to see parallels between him and Endeavor; Endeavor is a high profile abuser who embodies the flaws and hypocrisy of the hero system. Bakugou is a schoolyard bully who emulates and internalizes the flaws of this system as a child, likely due to the structure of the society and the way that children will absorb the propaganda they are exposed to; the idea that Quirks, or power, define the inherent value of the individual, their ability to contribute to society, and subsequently their fundamental human worth. The difference between them is the fact that Endeavor is the literal adult who is fully and knowingly active within a toxic, corrupt system who forces his family to undergo a terrifying amount of trauma and abuse while facing little to no consequences because he knows that his status and the values of their society will protect him from those consequences. In other words, Endeavor is the threat of what Bakugou could have, and would have, become without intervention or genuine change.

Comparisons between characters, as parallels or foils, are tricky in that they imply but cannot confirm sameness. Having parallels with someone does not make them the same, by the way, but can serve to illustrate contrasts, or warnings. Harry Potter, for example, is meant to have obvious parallels with Tom Riddle, with similar abilities, and tragic upbringings. That doesn’t mean Harry grows up to become Lord Voldemort, but rather he helps lead a cross-generational movement to overthrow the facist regime. Harry is offered love, compassion, and friends, and does not embrace the darkness within or around him. As far as moldy old snake men are concerned, they do not deserve a redemption arc because they do not wish for one, and the truest of change only occurs when you actively try to change.

To be frank, either way, Bakugou was probably going to become a good Hero, in the sense that Endeavor is a ‘good’ Hero. Hero capitalized, as in a pro Hero, in the sense that it is a career, an occupation, and a status. Because of his strong Quirk, determination, skill, and work ethic, Bakugou would have made a good Hero. Due to his lack of character, however, he was not on the path to become a hero; defender of the weak, someone who saves people to save people, who is willing to make sacrifices detrimental to themselves, who saves people out of love.

It is necessary for him to undergo both a redemption arc and a symbolic death and rebirth in order for him to follow the path of a hero, having been inspired and prompted by Deku.

I personally don’t really like Endeavor’s little redemption arc, not because I don’t believe that people can change or that they shouldn't at least try to atone for the atrocities they have committed, but because within any narrative, a good redemption arc is important if it matters; what also matters is the context of that arc, and whether or not it was needed. For example, in ATLA, Zuko’s redemption arc is widely regarded as one of the best arcs in television history, something incredible. And it is. That shit fucks. In a good way.

It was confirmed that Azula was also going to get a redemption arc, had Volume 4 gone on as planned, and it was tentatively approached in the comics, which are considered canon. She is an undeniably bad person (who is willing to kill, threaten, exploit, and colonize), but she is also a child, and as viewers, we witness and recognize the factors that contributed to her (debatable) sociopathy, and the way that the system she was raised in failed her. Her family failed her; even Uncle Iroh, the wise mentor who helps guide Zuko to see the light, is willing to give up on her immediately, saying that she’s “crazy” and needs to be “put down”. Yes, it’s comedic, and yes, it’s pragmatic, but Azula is fourteen years old. Her mother is banished, her father is a psychopath, and her older brother, from her perspective, betrayed and abandoned her. She doesn’t have the emotional support that Zuko does; she exploits and controls her friends because it’s all she’s been taught to do; she says herself, her “own mother thought [she] was a monster; she was right, of course, but it still [hurts]”. A parent who does not believe in you, or a parent that uses you and will hurt you, is a genuine indicator of trauma.

The writers understood that both Zuko and Azula deserved redemption arcs. One was arguably further gone than the other, but that doesn’t change the fact that they are both children, products of their environment, who have the time, motive, and reason to change.

In contrast, you know who wouldn’t have deserved a redemption arc? Ozai. That simply would not have been interesting, wouldn’t have served the narrative well, and honestly, is not needed, thematically or otherwise. Am I comparing Ozai to Endeavor? Basically, yes. Fuck those guys. I don’t see a point in Endeavor’s little “I want to be a good dad now” arc, and I think that we don’t need to sympathize with characters in order to understand them or be interested in them. I want Touya/Dabi to expose his abuse, for his career to crumble, and then for him to die.

If they are not challenging the system that we the viewer are meant to question, and there is no thematic relevance to their redemption, is it even needed?

On that note, am I saying that Bakugou is the equivalent to Zuko? No, lmao. Definitely not. They are different characters with different progressions and different pressures. What I am saying is that good redemption arcs shouldn’t be handed out like candy to babies; it is the quality, rather than the quantity, that makes a redemption arc good. In terms of the commentary of the narrative, who needs a redemption arc, who is deserving, and who does it make sense to give one to?

In this case, Bakugou checks those boxes. It was always in the cards for him to change, and he has. In fact, he’s still changing.

Give it to Me Straight. It’s Homophobic.

There does seem to be an urge to obsessively gender either Bakugou or Deku, in making Deku the ultra-feminine, stereotypically hyper-sexualized “woman” of the relationship, with Bakugou becoming similarly sexualized but depicted as the hyper-masculine bodice ripper. On some level, that feels vaguely homophobic if not straight up misogynistic, in that in a gay relationship there’s an urge to compel them to conform under heteronormative stereotypes in order to be interpreted as real or functional. On one hand, I will say that in a lot of cases it feels like more of an expression of a kink, or fetishization and subsequent expression of internalized misogyny, at least, rather than a genuine exploration of the complexity and power imbalances of gender dynamics, expression, and boundaries.

That being said, I don’t think that that problematic aspect of shipping is unique to Bakudeku, or even to the fandom in general. We’ve all read fan work or see fanart of most gay ships in a similiar manner, and I think it’s a broader issue to be addressed than blaming it on a singular ship and calling it a day.

One interpretation of Bakugou’s character is his repression and the way his character functions under toxic masculinity, in a society’s egregious disregard for mental and emotional health (much like in the real world), the horrifying ways in which rage is rationalized or excused due to the concept of masculinity, and the way that characteristics that are associated with femininity — intellect, empathy, anxiety, kindness, hesitation, softness — are seen as stereotypically “weak”, and in men, traditionally emasculating. In terms of the way that the fictional universe is largely about societal priority and power dynamics between individuals and the way that extends to institutions, it’s not a total stretch to guess that gender as a construct is a relevant topic to expand on or at least keep in mind for comparison.

I think that the way in which characters are gendered and the extent to which that is a result of invasive heteronormativity and fetishization is a really important conversation to have, but using it as a case-by-case evolution of a ship used to condemn people isn’t conductive, and at that point, it’s treated as less of a real concern but an issue narrowly weaponised.

Love in Perspective, from the East v. West

Another thing I think could be elaborated on and written about in great detail is the way that the Eastern part of the fandom and the Western part of the fandom have such different perspectives on Bakudeku in particular. I am not going to go in depth with this, and there are many other people who could go into specifics, but just as an overview:

The manga and the anime are created for and targeted at a certain audience; our take on it will differ based on cultural norms, decisions in translation, understanding of the genre, and our own region-specific socialization. This includes the way in which we interpret certain relationships, the way they resonate with us, and what we do and do not find to be acceptable. Of course, this is not a case-by-case basis, and I’m sure there are plenty of people who hold differing beliefs within one area, but speaking generally, there is a reason that Bakudeku is not regarded as nearly as problematic in the East.

Had this been written by a Western creator, marketed primarily to and within the West (for reference, while I am Chinese, but I have lived in the USA for most of my life, so my own perspective is undoubtedly westernized), I would’ve immediately jumped to make comparisons between the Hero System and the American police system, in that a corrupt, or bastardized system is made no less corrupt for the people who do legitimately want to do good and help people, when that system disproportionately values and targets others while relying on propaganda that society must be reliant on that system in order to create safe communities when in reality it perpetuates just as many issues as it appears to solve, not to mention the way it attracts and rewards violent and power-hungry people who are enabled to abuse their power. I think comparisons can still be made, but in terms of analysis, it should be kept in mind that the police system in other parts of the world do not have the same history, place, and context as it does in America, and the police system in Japan, for example, probably wasn’t the basis for the Hero System.

As much as I do believe in the Death of the Author in most cases, the intent of the author does matter when it comes to content like this, if merely on the basis that it provides context that we may be missing as foreign viewers.

As far as the intent of the author goes, Bakugou is on a route of redemption.

He deserves it. It is unavoidable. That, of course, may depend on where you’re reading this.

Stuck in the Sludge, the Past, and Season One

If there’s one thing, to me, that epitomizes middle school Bakugou, it’s him being trapped in a sludge monster, rescued by his Quirkless childhood friend, and unable to believe his eyes. He clings to the ideology he always has, that Quirkless means weak, that there’s no way that Deku could have grown to be strong, or had the capacity to be strong all along. Bakugou is wrong about this, and continuously proven wrong. It is only when he accepts that he is wrong, and that Deku is someone to follow, that he starts his real path to heroics.

If Bakudeku’s relationship does not appeal to someone for whatever reason, there’s nothing wrong with that. They can write all they want about why they don’t ship it, or why it bothers them, or why they think it’s problematic. If it is legitimately triggering to you, then by all means, avoid it, point it out, etc. but do not undermine the reality of abuse simply to point fingers, just because you don’t like a ship. People who intentionally use the anti tag knowing it’ll show up in the main tag, go after people who are literally minding their own business, and accuse people of supporting abuse are the ones looking for a fight, and they’re annoying as hell because they don’t bring anything to the table. No evidence, no analysis, just repeated projection.

To clarify, I’m referring to a specific kind of shipper, not someone who just doesn’t like a ship, but who is so aggressive about it for absolutely no reason. There are plenty of very lovely people in this fandom, who mind their own business, multipship, or just don’t care.

Calling shippers dumb or braindead or toxic (to clarify, this isn’t targeting any one person I’ve seen, but a collective) based on projections and generalizations that come entirely from your own impression of the ship rather than observation is...really biased to me, and comes across as uneducated and trigger happy, rather than constructive or helpful in any way.

I’m not saying someone has to ship anything, or like it, in order to be a ‘good’ participant. But inserting derogatory material into a main tag, and dropping buzzwords with the same tired backing behind it without seeming to understand the implications of those words or acknowledging the development, pacing, and intentional change to the characters within the plot is just...I don’t know, it comes across as redundant, to me at least, and very childish. Aggressive. Toxic. Problematic. Maybe the real toxic shippers were the ones who bitched and moaned along the way. They’re like little kids, stuck in the past, unable to visualize or recognize change, and I think that’s a real shame because it’s preventing them from appreciating the story or its characters as it is, in canon.

But that’s okay, really. To each their own. Interpretations will vary, preferences differ, perspectives are not uniform. There is no one truth. There are five seasons of the show, a feature film, and like, thirty volumes as of this year.

All I’m saying is that if you want to stay stuck in the first season of each character, then that’s what you’re going to get. That’s up to you.

This may be edited or revised.

#bakudeku #meta #my hero academia #boko no hero academia #bnha #mha #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya #ok these are just my general thoughts in response to the people who have hang ups about this ship #like y’all need to pls chill tf out ok #this is also not comprehensive and could definitely be elaborated on #but it’s just general thoughts #it’s just addressing general opposition I’ve seen #I never thought I’d ever write this much about this ship wtf

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kiapet2 · 3 years

Text

Aperture Sides Facility, Chapter 9: The Part Where He Kills You

Masterpost

Chapter Summary: It's the part where he kills you.

Chapter Warnings: Attempted Murder (obviously), Not-Really-Unsympathetic Sides

“Well,” Janus says, “This is the part where he kills us.”

“Hello!” Remus says cheerfully, peering down at you from another video screen. “This is the part where I kill you!”

Looking at the spiked plates surrounding you, you realize this is, in fact, the part where he kills you.

(this is that part)

“Y’know, I thought about a lot of ways I could do this,” Remus says. “I could make toxic sludge rain into the room and see how long it took to kill you if you weren’t actually submerged in it. I could flood the room with neurotoxin and watch you choke and twitch as you die. I even thought about grabbing you and tearing you limb from limb! I wonder which would pop off first- maybe your arms? I dunno, what do you think?”

You don’t answer, instead looking around yourself as subtly as you can, looking for a way out. The platform you’re standing on is small, barely five feet from end to end, and below you is a deep pit that extends into nothingness. You could chance a jump, but with no way of knowing what’s at the bottom that’s just as likely to kill you as save you.

Above you, Remus is still talking. “But in the end I figured, why mess with a classic, right? I mean, the crushing power of metal, mixed with the stabbiness of spikes? Sheer poetry!”

Something catches your eye- a speck of white, a flash of movement. Bits of conversion gel are dripping in the distance and collecting on an outcropping. You shoot your blue portal there, and the white liquid begins to drip through the portal.

Great, now the testing chamber you just left is covered in portal surfaces. Not helping you much.

“Anyways, if you’ve got anything to say before I make you into hamburger meat, now’s the time, Tommy-boy!” Remus says.

“Hole in the wall, Eleven o’clock,” Janus mutters, and you feel yourself break into a smile as you see it.

“I do have something to say, actually,” you say loudly.

You shoot the orange portal through the hole, onto the portal surface beyond, and step aside to keep from being coated as a big glob of moon rock liquid flies towards you and then splatters onto your platform.

You look Remus’ image straight in the eye. “Thanks for teaching me about Conversion Gel.”

Then you shoot the blue portal onto the newly white-coated ground and jump in, popping out from the orange portal and landing on a metal catwalk on the other side of the hole, just as the spike plates obliterate where you just were standing.

“Oho!” Remus calls as you turn and begin to run down the catwalk. “You’re smarter than I gave you credit for! I’ll just have to get creative, then.”

The catwalk jerks below you, and Janus cries, “Jump!” as it begins to give way.

You launch yourself forwards just as the catwalk falls out from under you, and land hard on your side on another.

“Think fast,” Remus sing-songs, and you frantically roll out of the way as a massive spike-plate slams where you just were, crushing the catwalk beneath it.

You scramble to your feet and use a pair of portals to cross the new gaping hole in front of you.

“Nice one!” Remus says. “But let’s see how fast you really are.”

You let out a rare curse as the walls on either side of you groan and begin to move closer together.

You fall into a sprint, lungs tightening and tired legs screaming at the new exertion. The opposite wall grows closer slowly, too slowly. You’re not going to make it.

Spinning wildly, you look desperately around yourself for some sort of way out. The walkway groans as the walls begin pushing on it, and you can feel it start to warp under your feet.

There! A small square of Portal surface, high above you. You shoot one Portal onto it, then turn and shoot the other onto one of the encroaching walls, now uncomfortably close. You jump through and come out the other, higher portal, landing on top of one of the “walls” which from this perspective looks more like a box. With a jerking motion the box shifts direction, now moving upwards.

“Down,” Janus says urgently, and you look down to see an opening in the floor near you. You jump down just as the huge box you’re on slams into the ceiling, making the whole thing rattle and shake.

The shaking probably saves your life, because when you land in the room below you, the several turrets you are faced with seem momentarily distracted by the jarring motion. You quickly shoot one portal on the wall behind the turrets and another below your feet, popping out behind the turrets’ ranks and quickly knocking them over.

“Left,” Janus says, and you run through a door and onto another catwalk, until you go through another door and finally put your feet on solid ground.

Some amount of time later, Janus finally says, “We should be safe here,” and you immediately flop down onto the ground, taking gasping breaths. You really need to stop getting into these situations with people trying to kill you; you don’t know how much more running and jumping your body can take.

“You could have at least set me down nicely,” Janus says, voice strangely muffled, and you look over and realize that you put down the portal gun so that he’s pressed against the floor. Fighting back the urge to laugh, you reach over and roll the gun so that Janus is facing up and towards you.

“Honestly, you’re that wiped from a few minutes of running? You living creatures are so fragile, it’s a wonder you’ve survived this long.”

“Says the person who spent the entire time being carried,” you groan, but it’s without heat. You wave an arm in Janus’ general direction. “Give me a sec, I’ll be up in no time.”

“Oh of course you will,” Janus says, sugar-sweet, because he’s a jerk like that.

You lie on the ground for a few minutes, feeling your heart rate slow as your adrenaline high comes down. With it comes the crash, a wave of fatigue that washes over you. When you start struggling to keep your eyes open, you figure it’s probably a sign you need to get up now.

“Alright,” you grunt, painfully pulling yourself to your feet, “Let’s go.”

“Absolutely not,” Janus says.

Your stomach churns with sudden anger and worry. “You’re going back on our deal?”

“No,” Janus says, as cool and collected as ever. “But our deal involves helping you stay alive, and you currently are not up to even basic kinds of physical activity or intense thinking, much less those associated with portals.”

“What?” you say, blinking at him. “I’m good, I’m… I’m fine. I can do it.”

“How long have you been up and moving by now? Days? You’re literally nodding off as we speak.”

You forcibly open your eyes, blinking again. “No I’m not.”

“Honestly, and they call me a liar.”

Janus’ voice grows firm. “I will not do a single thing to help you until you have gotten some sleep. We have enough time to spare right now, and I will wake you if anything about the situation changes.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “How do I know you’re not trying to distract me, so I won’t be in time to help my friends?”

Janus huffs. “Oh, come now, even you must realize you’ll be no good to your friends if you get yourself killed. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but unlike the rest of us, you are not a machine.”

His voice softens. “Take some time to rest, Thomas.”

“I- okay,” you say finally. “Don’t kill me in my sleep, alright?”

“I’ll try to restrain myself,” Janus says, sounding vaguely amused.

You lay down and close your eyes, shifting as you try to make yourself comfortable on the hard floor. Your brain won’t slow down, too many hours of fighting for your life making it difficult to relax.

You crack one eye open again. “Janus?”

The light flickers back on. “I do need my own rest too, you know. Potato battery, remember? I’m absolutely made of power right now.”

“Can I ask you a question, real quick?”

“Absolutely not,” Janus deadpans. “Remove yourself from my presence at once.”

“Cool.” You flip onto your stomach, propping your chin on your hands as you peer down at the potato.

“Why cake?”

There’s a pause as Janus registers the question. Then he says, a shrug in his voice, “You needed a reward to motivate you. Why not cake?”

You mull that over. Why not cake, indeed. “Was there ever actually going to be a cake?”

“Put me back in charge, and you’ll find out,” Janus says dryly. “Now will you please go to sleep?”

Smiling to yourself, you roll over and pillow your head on one arm, and before you know it you’re drifting off.

You wake to a tremor that shakes the floor you’re sprawled across and makes the walls audibly rattle. Your first, sleepy thought is that there’s somehow been an earthquake in Florida. Then you remember where you are and what situation you’re in, and bolt upright.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” Janus says. “That rumble probably means the Core is getting unstable. We need to get going now.”

“Alright,” you say, rubbing the last bit of sleep from your eyes and painfully getting to your feet. Your muscles are stiff from sleeping on them after so much exercise; hopefully they’ll loosen up as you get moving.

You look down at the potato. “You said you knew where the others were. So let’s go find them.”

“That may not be the best course of action to take,” Janus says carefully. “This facility is actively deteriorating, and the time we would spend finding them may be time we don’t have.”

“We’re finding them first,” you say firmly. “We’ll stand a better chance at stopping Remus and saving this place as a group, and there’s no way I’m leaving them lost, scared or in danger, not when I can help.”

Janus heaves a dramatic sigh. “If you insist. I took Patton down to the space below the Control Chamber. It’s perfectly safe, mostly a storage space really, but I doubt he’s moved far. Roman is harder to judge, but given that he fell through the floor I’d guess he’s either in the same place, or on one of the floor below.”

“Alright,” you say, thinking that over. “I guess let’s start with where you know Patton is, and then we can look for Roman if he isn’t there as well.”

“A sound enough plan, I suppose,” Janus says. “You’ll want to go down this hallway and then climb up the service ladder; if it’s broken, you’ll have to get creative.”

And just like that, you’re off. At first, the only communication is Janus’ instructions, and the occasional debate at how to traverse a particularly difficult space. It’s when you’re nearing your destination that he finally picks the conversation back up.

“You seem to care about the other Cores a great deal, considering the fact that you’ve known them for a few days at most,” Janus says, sounding almost curious.

Memories flash through your head: Test chambers that should have been sterile and empty, instead filled with encouragement, laughter, good-natured bickering. Sitting in a circle in a rusty old hideaway, singing barely-remembered songs and talking wistfully about the sky. Patton giving you that bright, crinkle-eyed smile as he declares, “Well it’s settled then! We’re a family.”

“Yes,” you say. “Yes, I care about them. I’m going to get out of here, and I’m going to make sure they’re alright. Because that’s what they’d do for me.”

Janus scoffs. “Sentimental idiots, the lot of you.”

“Oh?” you say, trying and failing to keep the heat out of your voice, “And what would you have me do? Just abandon them?

“They can take care of themselves,” Janus says. “As should you. Through that grate, to your left.”

“So that’s it?” you say, shooting a portal through the grate and using it to get to the other side, “every man for himself?”

“With the exception of mutually beneficial arrangements such as ours,” Janus replies smoothly.

You shake your head. “Sounds like a miserable way to live.”

“For a human, maybe. AIs lack such base needs as so-called ‘friendship.’” If Janus had a nose, you’re pretty sure he’d be sticking it up right now.

“Are you really saying that you’ve never cared for anyone?” you say. “That you’ve never had someone you would risk everything for, just because you couldn’t bear to see them hurt or unhappy?”

There’s a pause. Then Janus says, voice flat, “No. Never.”

You’ve heard Janus say a lot of blatantly false things- heck, you’ve heard him pretend he didn’t just try to kill you after literally dumping you into a furnace- but you don’t think you’ve ever been as sure as you are now that Janus is lying.

“Thomas!” someone shouts. “Thomas, over here!”

Heart leaping in your chest, you turn to see Roman, lying in a pile of rubble in the corner of the room you just entered. You rush forward and dig him out with your hands, grinning ear to ear.

“Boy, am I glad to see you!” Roman says. “I guess the prince was the one in need of rescuing this time, huh?”

“We can take turns,” you say, picking your portal gun back up and using it to lift him.

“Uh, Thomas? Why do you have a potato on your portal gun?” Roman says.

“Oh,” you say, “that’s Janus.”

“That’s-” Roman chokes, looking at the potato more intently, before said potato yells “boo!” and he flinches backwards with a high-pitched shriek.

“Sorry, but I just couldn’t resist,” Janus says smoothly. “Yes, I am currently in potato form, and am working with Thomas as well. Any questions?” The last sentence has a slight sarcastic twinge to it.

“So many,” Roman says candidly, “But it can wait. Are you going to find Padre?”

“That’s the plan,” you say.

Roman nods. “Set me down here; you’ll be able to carry him if you find him, that way.

“Are you sure?” you ask, worried.

“It is a prince’s job to sacrifice for the common folk!” he says with a dramatic flourish.

“Alright,” you say with a smile, setting him down gently in a secure spot. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“I know you will,” Roman says.

The area below the Control Chamber is less of a floor and more of a crawlspace, interspersed with coiled grabby hands, retracted pistons, and who knows what else, and you very quickly find yourself grateful you didn’t bring Roman. Still, Janus guides you through it, and before long you see the familiar light blue eyelight of your friend.

“Thomas!” Patton squeals when he sees you. “Oh, Thomas, I’m so glad you found me! Wait, why do you have a potato on your portal gun?”

“Oh, that’s just Janus,” you say casually. “Remus uploaded him into a potato battery.”

“Oh, dear,” Patton says, “That sounds like a tatorrible situation to be in!”

You snort at the pun, then say, “I’m sorry it took me so long to find you. I got caught up in something of a mess.”

“That’s alright, kiddo,” Patton says. “I’m sure whatever you were doing, it was good and necessary.”

“I don’t know, Patton,” you say. “It feels like, whenever I’ve actually managed to do something here, it’s always ended up backfiring on me.”

“I still think you’re doing the best you can in a bad situation,” Patton says. I mean, waking up miles underground, with no memory, no food or water, a crazed machine trying to kill you…”

“Oh please do continue, it’s not like I can hear you or anything,” Janus says.

“You haven’t had the time to sit down and make an informed choice,” Patton continues, ignoring him. “You’re doing your best with what you have. And honestly, kiddo, the fact that we’re all still alive tells me that you’ve been doing a pretty good job. I mean, you found me, didn’t you? You didn’t have to go to all the trouble to do that- but you did, because you care. If you ask me, that means a lot.”

You find yourself tearing up. “I’m so glad you’re here with me, Patton.”

Patton smiles up at you. “Me too, kiddo. Me too.”

When you head back to pick up Roman, you find one more Core than you were expecting.

“Hey,” Virgil says. “Thought I might find you here. I’m glad you made it through alright.”

“You and me both,” you say ruefully. “What have you been up to since I talked with you last?”

Virgil shrugs. “Looked around a bit. Ended up going to where I knew Logan was. He had me take him to a certain room, something about neurotoxin generators, and then sent me back out to find you. Which, I did, so yay me I guess?” He does an awkward thumbs up, which makes you laugh.

“Alright, then,” you say, hefting Patton while Virgil grabs hold of Roman, “take me to where Logan is.”

The room Virgil leads you into is huge, with a tall ceiling and a catwalk extending over a massive pit. Taking up its center is a tall, thin structure that almost reminds you of a spider, with a long metal body and pipes coming out from it like legs. It’s intimidating, and you instinctively take a step back at the sight.

“Ah, Thomas, excellent timing,” Logan says, “Help me destroy this, would you?”

#aperture sides facility #my writing #ts storytime #I specifically added chapter titles and chapter summaries just to make this joke #worth it

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iron--spider · 4 years

Text

there’s something wrong

Peter thought he would be happy, after he took the Goblin down.

It’s been a long time coming. Almost a year trying to figure out who the hell he was, then finding out and dealing with that shit, because who the hell can target Norman Osborn and get away with it? Tony helped, but Peter doesn’t like bothering him with stuff like this after everything he’s been through. He’s been through enough, and he doesn’t need Peter bringing more problems to his door. He brought him back to life, he saved the world, that—that should be enough. More than enough. Beyond enough.

The battle was five days ago, and Norman, being who he is, threw everything he had at Peter. They were at his Hell’s Kitchen power plant, and Peter could barely breathe, there was so much smoke from the overloaded stacks, and he was sure Norman was trying to blow them both up, end it in a fiery blaze with Spider-Man’s corpse emblazoned on the front page of the Bugle.

But, despite the damage to the suit, despite the massive concussion and broken arm they had to reset that night at the facility, Peter finished it. His eyes were burning and his mask was destroyed and Norman knew who he was, but he finished it.

But Peter isn’t happy.

The doctors said Norman might not wake up again. That set Tony’s mind at ease, knowing Peter’s identity was locked inside his decaying mind, but it made Peter’s guilt flare up like the fire did all around the two of them in the otherwise darkness of that night. He hates that he can’t help these people. He hates that they hate him. That they’ll never allow themselves to come back from what they’ve turned towards.

He thought it was that making him sick, at first. The guilt.

“What’s wrong?” Ned asks, from beside him on Peter’s bedroom floor. “Do you miss your girlfriend? I can’t believe you have a girlfriend. I can’t believe it’s Michelle.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Peter snaps. He tries to focus on his paper, but his hand feels like it can barely support the fucking pencil. “Leave me alone, I’m trying to do this.”

“Peter…”

“Ned,” Peter says. He sighs, and turns over, laying on his back. He drops the pencil and covers his face with his hands. “Just stop, please.”

“There’s something wrong with you,” Ned says. Peter feels him reach over and pat his head. “I know you’ve been through a lot lately. But you’re being snappy.”

“I’m fine,” Peter says, voice muffled.

“Maybe you should ask for an extension on this paper?” Ned asks.

“And what would my excuse be?” Peter asks. “Can’t tell him I almost just died fighting the Green Goblin, Ned.” Almost died. He’s exaggerating, but sometimes it feels that way.

“Could tell him you’re sick,” Ned says.

“Jeffords won’t care,” Peter says. “And anyways, I’m not.” He feels like his whole face is numb, and he sighs. He’s stressing himself out too much. “I gotta eat something. I have a bad taste in my mouth.” He twists around, pressing his hands to the carpet as he pulls himself to his feet. He hasn’t done much patrolling since the Goblin fight, only a couple nights here and there, but he feels like his muscles are crying out for him to take a big break.

“You just ate!” Ned yells after him, as Peter stumbles into the living room.

“Stop judging me!” Peter yells back. His mouth tastes like blood, but he’s definitely not gonna tell Ned that. There’s probably something wrong with his gums or something. Maybe he brushed too hard...this morning. Or something.

He sighs, and looks for chocolate, already planning on making tonight an early night.

“Just bring me something too!” Ned says.

MJ: Are you still feeling bad?

PETER: I’m fine, I’m fine, I promise

MJ: literally cannot believe you’re lying to me

MJ: you know I see through your lies we’ve dealt with me seeing through your lies

PETER: love that you’re concerned :)

MJ: that’s kinda part of my job description now, isn’t it?

PETER: i’m fine totally fine completely fine

Two days later, it’s…

Has it only been two days?

Jesus, Peter doesn’t know.

He can’t think.

Something’s wrong, but he doesn’t know what the hell it could be. He hasn’t been out anywhere, but his mind questions that, because he can’t remember. He can’t remember the last time he went out patrolling, what the hell happened when he did. He can’t remember shit.

His whole face feels frozen, and school is a complete and utter lost cause. He barely hears Ned when he tries to get his attention, and he doesn’t eat anything at lunch. MJ runs her hands up and down his back and it feels good but he can barely concentrate on it.

He shouldn’t be able to get sick anymore. He rarely does, now that he’s enhanced, and if he does it goes away within a day, at the latest.

Peter feels like Ned is talking to him one moment and then the next, he’s in the back of Happy’s car. He’s cutting in and out.

He leans down, bracing his elbows on his knees, and he feels like he’s shaking. He doesn’t know if he actually is. He feels like he’s deep within his body, small and broken and sad, watching as he falls apart.

Is this his guilt? Tearing him up? For Norman Osborn? It wasn’t this bad when Ben died. It wasn’t this bad when he almost lost Tony. Now he’s feeling guilt about his guilt and there’s a certain kind of sadness draping over him that he hasn’t seen the likes of before. It’s heavy and stifling and feels out of place, like it doesn’t belong to him.

He blinks and rubs at his eyes.

“Are you even hearing me?” Happy asks. “What the hell is going on? I’ve never seen you this out of it before. Well, on a normal day. And that’s assuming today is a normal day.”

Maybe Peter has to accept that something is going on. But what the fuck would be going on? He hasn’t done anything of worth since the fight—

—but he can’t remember.

And is that the problem? The fact that he can’t remember? Or is the problem that he did do something? And he can’t remember it?

His head feels like sludge. He presses his hands to his face and it feels like he doesn’t have a face anymore. Or hands. He shakes his head and his stomach turns.

“Okay, Peter, you need to tell me what’s happening, because if I drag you into the facility acting like this with no warnings for Tony—”

“There’s something wrong,” Peter mutters, and just talking makes him feel like he’s gonna puke.

Next thing he knows they’re not driving anymore, and Tony is there, peeling him out of the car. They’re at the facility but he doesn’t remember arriving, doesn’t remember half of the ride. Peter sighs, and can barely stay on his feet once he’s on solid ground, and Tony gets a good hold around his waist.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Tony says, close to Peter’s ear. “Jesus, he’s pale, Hap.”

“Something’s wrong,” Peter whispers. He tries to think back, tries to measure how this played out and where it started, but his brain pulls up blue screens, because he fucked up, because he’s been ignoring how he’s been feeling and how he’s been deteriorating each day—and what the hell did he do? What did he do, what was his mistake? Where did he make it?

Tony groans but he bends a little and picks Peter up—he’s got the iron arm now, so it’s probably easier—and Peter squeezes his eyes shut tight, turning his face into Tony’s shoulder as he rushes him into the facility. He doesn’t even have the energy to make a joke about being carried like a baby.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Tony asks, gently. “Tell me what hurts. And what happened.”

“I don’t—know what happened,” Peter whispers, his own voice rattling in his head like metal clanging down a well. “Mouth tastes like blood. Uh. Muscles weak. Hurts to breathe. Bad mood, uh, feel sick. Sad. Nervous. Been getting worse, day by day, but I’ve been—ignoring.” He sighs, hates how it sounds. “I’m sorry.”

“No sorry,” Tony says. “Just hold on. I’ve got an idea of what might be going on and if it’s that we gotta get on it stat.” Peter feels the terrain change under Tony’s feet, and he knows they’re getting closer to the side door. “Happy, call the Raft’s people and find out if Osborn is sick, please.”

“Got it,” Happy says.

Peter squeezes his eyes shut tighter and one of his arms flops down. He’s just exhausted. “Sorry I ignored it,” he whispers. “I wasn’t. I wasn’t sure what—”

“Don’t worry,” Tony whispers.

But he sounds worried.

They get Peter into the med bay and he wouldn’t exactly call what he’s doing blacking out, but more like stepping back. He retreats further into his head and everything becomes muted, because there’s so much going on and people running around everywhere and a fleet of doctors surrounding him and hooking him up to shit and his head hurts the more he pays attention. His senses are off. Loud then nothing. Everything out of whack.

Peter keeps his eyes closed.

“Osborn was trying to poison the both of them,” Happy’s voice says, somewhere in the ether. “There was goddamn mercury in the air, Tony—”

“I thought so,” Tony’s voice says, closer, grave. “Okay, okay, can we—”

“Yes, we can start—”

“Remember, he’s enhanced so things are different, things affect him differently, Norman probably thought of that—”

“It’s under control—”

Peter groans and tries not to listen. He doesn’t know how much time passes but he knows he’s being poked and prodded and given things and moved around and he doesn’t want to open his eyes.

He feels a hand on his forehead. Another on his forearm. He doesn’t open his eyes, but he turns towards the warmth.

“I’m sorry, Pete,” Tony whispers. “We should have checked you for something like this when we were resetting your arm and checking on the concussion. Goddamnit. We didn’t think.”

“He poisoned us both?” Peter asks, trying to open one eye to look at him.

“Yeah,” Tony says, brushing Peter’s hair back from his forehead. “He’s dying. He got the brunt of it, a nice fucking cocktail of bullshit, including mercury and a bunch of other toxic shit—”

“Am I dying?” Peter whispers, voice breaking.

“No,” Tony says, shaking his head. “No, it’s—it’s not good, but we’re dealing with it. I’ve got some treatments on the way and they’re gonna help. You being who you are helps. It’ll be okay.”

Tears prick at Peter’s eyes, and everything still feels like it’s too big, burning, too much pressure.

“Tell me if you need to throw up,” Tony says, rubbing Peter’s arm.

“Did I throw up?” Peter asks. He watches as another doctor rushes into the room behind Tony.

“Yeah, when you first got here,” Tony says. Peter doesn’t remember, and he sighs, wishing this was all over, wishing it wasn’t happening at all. “Just tell me if you have to, okay?” Tony asks, and Peter nods. “I’m not going anywhere. I called May. She’s coming.”

“Okay,” Peter whispers, and his voice breaks again, horribly, a tear tracking down his cheek.

Tony quickly wipes it away, and he leans in, pressing a kiss to Peter’s forehead. “You’re gonna be fine, webs, I promise. I won’t have it any other way and I’m the savior of the universe so I get what I want.”

Peter blows out a breath. “Good. Be stubborn about this.”

“Oh, I’m gonna,” Tony says. Peter closes his eyes again and tries to keep his balance, even though he’s not fucking moving. “Try to sleep, okay? You’ve got a ton of people here working for you and I don’t wanna try to concoct the strong stuff to knock you out.”

“You’re gonna flush it out?” Peter whispers. “The poison?”

“Yes,” Tony says, gripping Peter’s wrist, fingers seemingly trying to track his pulse. “I promise.”

Peter does sleep. He thinks. He isn’t really sure, except for the dreams, in which the Goblin traces across the sky and spews out poison gas from his mouth. Peter remembers the news reports. Norman had a son. Peter can’t remember his name, but after all that, he doesn’t like the idea of him losing his father, too. Norman is insane, and an asshole, but his son doesn’t deserve for him to die. Especially by his own hand. Peter doesn’t like the idea of him living with that.

When he wakes up everything is a lot calmer, and darker, except for the one light beside his bed. He still feels out of it, but in a different way, and his mouth still tastes like blood. Metal.

“Baby,” May whispers, suddenly sitting on the side of the bed.

“May,” he says, still so tired. She’s fuzzy but it looks like there’s a halo behind her head. Maybe a light from the hallway. He sees Tony is sleeping in the chair by the bed, breathing through his mouth.

“You’re okay, sweetheart,” May says.

Peter glances up and sees that he’s hooked up to about a hundred different things. He’s got a nasal cannula in and it’s definitely helping with the not breathing shit. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize,” he says, softly. He’s so annoyed at himself. There was gas everywhere, at the power plant. Norman was obviously doing something. But Peter was so distracted. “I should have—”

“We should have realized something was wrong,” May says. “You were a little off, and MJ said something to me—”

“He did it like this on purpose,” Peter says, holding onto her hand. “Osborn. So we wouldn’t know...right away.”

May sets her jaw and then she shakes her head, leaning down and kissing him on the cheek twice in a row. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart. We’re here.”

Peter nods, trying not to think about all of it. Trying not to wallow in his own stupidity and guilt.

When he wakes up again it’s brighter, and Tony is standing over him, checking on his chart.

“Are they doubling the poison?” Peter asks. “Finally a way to get rid of the Spider-Man?”

“The Spider-Man,” Tony says. “The Iron Man. The Captain America.”

“Mine works, yours don’t,” Peter says. He glances over at the other chair and sees that May isn’t here right now.

“She’s downstairs making sure everyone properly puts your lunch together,” Tony says, reading his mind. He hangs the chart back up and sits on Peter’s bed, gently. “How you doing?”

“Okay,” Peter says. He still doesn’t feel...amazing, but it’s not as bad as it was before. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Uh, going on eleven hours,” Tony says, gritting his teeth. “Which is why May is so insistent on the—lunch. Gonna be a big one, she almost wanted to start feeding you through a tube.”

Peter blows out a breath and sinks down a little further into his pillows.

“We’re gonna have to do a couple different treatments over the next few months for the mercury,” Tony says. “It wasn’t death-level but it was close, with all the other shit he mixed in there, and it’s not good to have it in your body. With your heightened—everything, and your healing, your system was trying to attack it but, well—what he made was strong, and it was spewing out everywhere at that plant. It’s a good thing you caught it when you did, because we were able to contact everybody who went to the scene that night before they shut everything down. You saved a lot of lives, Pete. Now they’re all gonna get treated, and it would have hit them harder than it hit you because they’re not—spider men. You were just more exposed.”

Peter stares at him. “What about Norman?”

Tony’s face goes stern. “Why do you care about that asshole? He did this to you.”

“He’s got...a kid, Tony,” Peter says. “My age, I think. I’m sure, as disappointed as his kid is that his dad is a super villain, he still...doesn’t want him dead.”

Tony looks down at his hands. “He’s still alive,” he says. “I sent some of my best guys to the prison to treat him. Because I knew you’d want me to. I didn’t do it because I wanted to or because I want him to live, I did it because I knew it’s what you would have wanted.”

Peter feels warmer, under all that, and he reaches out and grabs Tony’s hand, the one that isn’t iron. “Thank you,” he says.

“Uh huh,” Tony says, but he squeezes Peter’s hand. “He deserves to rot for doing this to you, Pete. You’re gonna be dealing with this shit for six months or so. Minimum.”

“I’ll beat it before then,” Peter says, smiling at him, trying to ignore how like shit he feels.

Tony meets his eyes. “You’re too good. You need to stop being too good.”

Peter shrugs and keeps smiling. He doesn’t think he’s good enough, at anything, ever. But he knows that’s not the right thing to say to Tony right now.

Tony scoffs and squeezes his hand again. “Uh, are you okay for visitors? Because Morgan was having a complete heart attack.”

“Always ready for a Morgan visit,” Peter says. “And can you, uh—call Ned and MJ?”

“Yeah, they’re on their way already,” Tony says. “I gotta keep your girl from chastising you too hard.”

“No way to avoid that,” Peter says.

“Yeah,” Tony says, patting Peter’s hand. He clears his throat and doesn’t let go quite yet. “I’m proud of you. I know I said it before when it all first happened, and I wish I had been there to back you up—I wish anybody had been, but I just—wanted to say it again. Because you deserve to hear it, especially when you’re—dealing with something like this.” He looks at him and smiles fondly, a little sadly. “I’m proud of you.”

It’s one of Peter’s favorite things to hear, especially from Tony and May. He knows getting through this is gonna be hard, but he’s got the kind of support system that people literally wait lifetimes for. He’s beyond lucky.

He holds onto Tony’s hand. “I’m proud of you too.”

#tony stark #peter parker #iron man #spider-man #my fics #iron dad #i am not a doctor

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