#an introduction to the book of genesis

[fishhook-madness]

Eleven : Annihilation

I will claw my way back to the great dark ,

and we will not speak of this place again .

A blog dedicated to NBC Hannibal.

˚₊ Info ₊˚

Hi there! I'm Genesis, 19, She/They.

I'm here mostly to post about Abigail and Will. I am not familiar with the books just yet, only with Silence of the Lambs (1991) and Manhunter (1986).

I'm not likely to post any erotic content, but I'm not opposed to engaging with the topics. I love interacting in general; reblog or send an ask, and I'll definitely want to chat back at you!

˚₊ Tags ₊˚

#pathogenesis — any writing in reply to a post

#riverflow — for posts I react to in tags only

#otherworld — for/about Abigail Hobbs

#moonlight — for/about Will Graham

#tattlecrime — short posts and/or rambling

#lured — fanart/aesthetic reblog

#hooked — favorites

#maddened — asks

[adam--official]

Introduction post 🫶

My name is Adam. Like Adam And Eve. I used to live in Eden but somebody tricked me into eating a quince. So that's over now.

To emphasize, the fruit that damned everyone to eternal torment was a quince, not just an apple. Posts relating to my fruit fuckup are tagged "the Quincident"

I have a beautiful wife, Eve, and so many children, including but not limited to Cain, Abel, and Seth. Cain has been missing ever since Abel died, and Seth... Seth is a lot.

I have eight billion grandkids. You're one of them. We're all family here. I regularly refer to myself in the third person as "Grandpa." It's because I'm grandpa

If you're here to ask me about Lilith, please don't. Look, she's a perfectly nice demon, but I didn't have any sort of relationship with her! Ben Sira included me in his autobiographical libel and I'll never forgive him for that

Feel free to send asks! I love talking with everybody :-) (please sned asnke pkease send askdks pla send askd pleasf sefn asksss)

My reblogs are tagged as "Adam reblogs things", posts are tagged as "Adam says things", replies to asks are "Adam replies to things". Anything relating to Minecraft is tagged "Adam likes Minecraft". I like Minecraft :-)

Mr Mod speaking!!! I am not religious but I do have a relatively in-depth knowledge of the Bible and apocryphal texts that I keep referencing. If anyone wants to discuss the Tumblr bibleverse lore or ask about any texts or what I'm referencing in any specific posts PLEASE do i'm so open I'm so willing.

[official--eve]

Introduction post!

My name is Eve. Yes, THE Eve, Garden of Eden and all that. I don't actually live in Eden anymore after... well you know the basics.

Anyway! A lot has happened with my family and I'm very excited to start this blog. Feel free to send asks. I'd love to talk with you. We are family after all!

(This is in no way meant to be offensive to any Christians out there, I've just seen so many gimmick blogs so I wanted to give that a try lol. I'm super interested in Eden but that doesn't mean I'm super educated on it so this is just for fun.)

My tags are evereblogs, evespeaks, familytalk, and evesocs

[stromuprisahat]

Perfect goodness, as an absolute state, is not achievable; to be alive requires participation in some harm—after all, we must kill plants and animals to sustain life. We are not pawns in a battle between the dark and the light.

On Our Best Behavior: The Seven Deadly Sins and the Price Women Pay to Be Good (Elise Loehnen)

[saintmelangell]

do you have any favourite historical overviews or introductions to christian mysticism that you could please recommend? ilysm habibti

works marked with * are what i would recommend for absolute beginners on the topic.

introductory works:

thomas merton, a course in christian mysticism: thirteen sessions ith the famous trappist monk*

william a. richards, sacred knowledge: psychadelics and religious experiences (on the practical applications of entheogenic, or drug-induced, mysticism)

william james, the varieties of religious experience, especially lectures 16 and 17*

bernard mcginn, the essentials of christian mysticism (arguably the best starter anthology of christian mystical writing)*

mircea eliade, the sacred and the profane

robert s. ellwood, mysticism and religion*

ed. amy hollywood, the cambridge companion to christian mysticism*

steven t. katz (ed.), mysticism and sacred scripture, especially the first chapter, "mysticism and the interpretation of sacred scripture," and the second chapter, "mysticism and scriptural justification"

primary works:

anon, the cloud of unknowing and other works (a.c. sperings translation for penguin is probably the most accessible)

teresa of avila, the life of saint tereesa of avila by herself

simone weil, waiting for god*

julian of norwich, revelations of divine love*

john of the cross, spiritual canticle (i recommend this to newcomers to christian mysticism over dark night of the soul, which is extremely dense and often devastating)

meister eckhart's sermons- though the book i'm linking is essentially a primer to german mystics

hildegard of bingen's scivias; but this selected works is a good place to start

margery kempe, the book of margery kempe by herself*

bernard of clairvaux’s sermons on song of songs*

marguerite porete, the mirror of simple souls

rebecca jackson, gifts of power*

catherine of siena, dialog

secondary works:

evelyn underhill, mysticism: a study in the nature and development of spiritual consciousness

evelyn underhill, practical mysticism*

caroline walker bynum, jesus as mother: studies in the spirituality of the high middle ages

caroline walker bynum, wonderful blood: theology and practice in late medieval northern germany and beyond

caroline walker bynum, holy feast and holy fast: the religious significance of food to medieval women*

grace m. jantzen, "eros and the abyss: reading medieval mystics in postmodernity"

grace m. jantzen, becoming divine: towards a feminist philosophy of religion

denys turner, the darkness of god: negativity in christian mysticism

jeffrey kripal, roads of excess palaces of wisdom: eroticism and reflexivity in the study of mysticism (+a lecture by him)

marsha aileen hewitt, freud on religion*

sarah clairmont, "she'll eat him up she loves him so" (one of my all time favourite papers)

also, the bible: which is probably the most vital of works on christian mysticism, as nothing you read about mysticism will not be influenced by it. i personally have recently been reading a combination of the JPS tanakh and the jewish annotated new testament, but the new revised standard edition (+apocrypha) is generally standard. if you are reading the bible academically for learning about mysticism, or have absolutely no background with reading the bible, i recommend the following books specifically:

the torah (genesis*, exodus*, leviticus, numbers, deuteronomy*)

the major prophets isaiah* and ezekiel*

the minor prophets (all of which constitute my favourite part of the bible) joel*, jonah*, micah*, malachai*

psalms*, job*, the song of songs*

the gospels, especially mark* and john (mark is the oldest and most "jewish," john is the most recent and most "gentile"; matthew and luke are probably more familiar than both)

the epistles: james*, jude*, 1-3 john, 1-2 peter, hebrews

the revelation to john

everything i've recommended here you can find online (internet archive or annasarchive); i've also tried to keep it extremely general and limited to work that i've personally read and vetted. if there's specific aspects or topics you're interested in (ie women's mysticism, medieval mysticism, mysticism and eating, freud and mysticism, commentaries on specific mystics etc) just drop me an ask! very honoured you've asked me beloved <3

[yourfavoritehouseplant]

I watched James Somerton's final video, and all I got was this 6 page document

As soon as I learned his final unreleased video was on Revolutionary Girl Utena, I knew I had to hate watch it. I didn't know that I'd spend the following 4 hours making a comprehensive doc on everything I hated about it. But here we are.

The TLDR (is this too long to be a TLDR?)

The intro section, as well as Part 2, are directly plagiarized from wikipedia. The rest is unclear.

He makes a “haha this show is so weird right guys” joke 10 different times

He reads Anthy as so emotionally stunted she literally has to be taught how to think for herself, and believes that being the rose bride makes her feel good

He says that his reading is ‘vastly different” from the rest of the community, before boldly stating that this is because he sees it as a “deeply allegorical and symbolic story”

He sees the sexual abuse as “not to be taken literally”

Insists that the show be separated into parts that are strictly literal and strictly allegorical for the entirety of parts 3 and 4, before making the contradictory move of analyzing characters as allegories during part 5

The only characters that get dedicated sections are Akio and Dios, who he doesn’t believe are the same person. 

He says Dios gets his powers by “deflowering women”

He calls Akio, known child predator, a chaotic bisexual

Uses 14 year old SA survivor Anthy’s passive personality to make a joke about her being a bottom

His final point is that Utena was the real prince all along

There are no citations

Anyway, full version for people who hate themselves under the cut. With time codes, because I cite my sources.

Part 1: Intro

This entire section is almost exclusively quoted from the Wikipedia article for Revolutionary Girl Utena. Words have been changed, but the order at which certain topics come up is not. Highlights include:

0:56 In his introduction of Be-Papas, lists the founding members in literally the exact same order as Wikipedia.

1:40-2:00 His list of Be-Papas previous works is lifted entirely from wikipedia, only with the words changed. This leads to a strange moment at 1:52 where he claims Be-papas ‘lent their talents to’ Neon Genesis Evangelion, a show which started production at least a year before Be-papas was founded. On the wikipedia article for Utena, this is instead referring to the previous work of Shinya Hasegawa and Yōji Enokido

4:23 he uses a quote by Yūichirō Oguro describing the production as a “tug of war”. He seems to have lifted this in its entirety from Wikipedia, as he does not cite the actual source it is from (the box set companion book, btw)

As for James Somerton originals, at 0:44 he claims that out of all magical girl series,”none to my knowledge have been more discussed and dissected than the 1997 series Revolutionary Girl Utena” He will go back on this at 5:05, where he states that “Sailor Moon takes the lion’s share of discussion” in regard to influential magical girl anime

Part 2: Part 1

(At least I know I’m not funny, unlike James Somerton)

Speaking of which. Here is every single time he makes a “wow this show is sooooo weird you guys” joke: 6:00, 8:50, 10:40, 10:58, 13:46, 17:07, 24:16, 30:34, 41:19, 48:01

Here’s every time the punchline to the joke is the existence of Nanami, a character who he otherwise completely disregards: 10:56, 12:05, 16:22, 42:40

6:16 Claims that the “Apocalypse saga” and “Akio Ohtori saga’ are two names for the same several episodes, depending on the release. This is untrue. Instead, different releases either only have the Apocalypse saga, or split the episodes into an Akio Ohtori saga and then the Apocalypse saga. 

7:58 Claims Utena intervening on Anthy’s behalf begins the first duel. While this happens in the movie, Touga intervenes in the scene he uses clips from (like literally right after the shot he uses in the video). Utena only gets drawn into the duels when Wakaba’s love note to Saionji is posted. Youtuber Noralities’ Utena video also gets this wrong, which makes me wonder if this was copied.

9:09 Claims Akio’s “End of the World” moniker is actually more closely translated to “Apocalypse”. In reality, the translation moves away from a more apocalyptic reading, with 世界の果て (Sekai no hate) apparently translating closer to “the furthest reach of a known world” or “edge of the world”. (Love the implications of this translation, but I digress)

9:10 As can be assumed from the previous point, this means I can’t find any sources that point to them not using the title “apocalypse” for religious reasons

10:10 Uses Anthy’s extreme passivity under her Rose bride persona to make a top/bottom joke. I’m gonna repeat this in case you’re just skimming. He uses a trait that likely stems from years of abuse, (possibly exaggerated by the persona Anthy uses to manipulate people), and uses it to call her a bottom. 

He also just doesn’t seem to understand how the whole point of Utena constantly telling Anthy that she's just a normal girl who should make more friends is framed as Utena imposing her will on Anthy, just as much as the previous Engaged have done. 

11:54 Apologies in advance for my most “um, actually!” point yet, but technically his statement that Anthy stops being host to the Sword of Dios is wrong. Akio literally pulls a sword out of her chest in the final duel. It's a more evil-looking sword of Dios, granted.

13:02 !!! CANTARELLA SCENE ALERT !!! He interprets it as them fighting over Akio?? Which like. I will allow people to have their own interpretations of vague and symbolic scenes. I will. I swear. This is not technically incorrect. It just makes me want to eat my own intestines.

14:44 Bad Anthy take #1: He states Anthy “is emotionally stunted to the point where she needs people to make decisions for her because she does not know how to think for herself” This ignores several moments of Anthy clearly making her own choices throughout the show, including the suicide attempt Somerton mentions about a minute prior. This also strips Anthy of what little agency she has throughout the story, usually exerted through messing with Utena or Nanami. (The fact that she repeatedly makes choices that contribute to her own abuse is, in my opinion, one of the most interesting parts of her character, and it's a shame that Summerton’s ‘reading’ of the story completely disregards that)

Additionally, he once again reads Utena ‘urging Anthy to think for herself” in the first arc as an unambiguously good move, and not as something critiqued in the show.

14:52 Summerton reads the Swords of hatred as symbolizing men’s hatred specifically. Again, I’m trying not to completely disregard differing interpretations to a show like Utena, but this feels very simplistic, especially considering the harm we see aimed towards Anthy by other women

16:42 Here he claims that his reading of the story seems to be “vastly different” from the bulk of Utena discourse. What is this reading? That the show shouldn’t be read literally. Or, in his words, “[we can interpret] Revolutionary Girl Utena as a deeply allegorical and symbolic story about the struggles of coming of age amidst widespread institutional corruption in a high school and which describes a passive culture of inaction in regard to brazen instances of domestic exploitation in which there is not only a question about the caporeality of the events transpiring but also which events can be taken for granted and which events are meant to signify abstract sociological institutions.” The idea that he believes this is in any way a new reading of the material honestly baffles me.

Part 3: Part 2

17:48 through 18:50 differently quotes the Wikipedia article for postmodernism. He even makes a joke at 17:55 about Wikipedia. Please kill me. 

The first three themes he lists at 19:11 are just the three main themes listed on the Revolutionary Girl Utena Wikipedia page. What was that about a “vastly different” reading, James?

You’re gonna have to take my word for it, but this section is so short because it's just him talking about the various ways the story can’t be taken literally. He does, ironically, call this a hot take.

Part 4: Part 3

Here’s where the reading falls apart folks

At 23:15, he states that some things in Utena are allegorically coded, while others are to be taken literally. This is true. However, he seems to take this to mean that some parts of the show are Strictly Literal, while others are Strictly Allegorical for things going on in the Literal World. 

This is apparently why he prefers the Anime to the Movie, where there basically is no separation between the Literal and Allegorical

This take is bizarre to me for several reasons, but here is my favorite. At several points, he mentions how Revolutionary Girl Utena is a work of Magical Realism. Magical Realism is literally defined by its blending of the “literal” and “allegorical”, the mix of fantastical elements in a mundane, realistic setting. This idea of the impossibility of a blurred line, that Utena must either have lore where the magic is all real and means nothing, or dedicated allegory segments quarantined from the rest of the story, is contrary to the very idea of Magical Realism.

I can’t help but wonder if Somerton took his mentions of Magical realism from a previous work, due to how little it is consistent with his final argument. Either way, this section suggests a great lack of creativity in his analysis, a shame for such a creative work.

24:36: Shiori slander, for those who care

After this he gets really worked up about people assuming symbolism in everything, even when the author ‘doesn’t make it clear something is symbolic’. He shuts down a reading of a shot in the Lord of the Rings. Miley Cyrus is there? Very The Curtains Were Blue of him. 

28:22 Claims that Wakaba is the key to telling where the Strictly Literal segments end and the Strictly Allegorical segments begin. He states that, under this lens, deeply personal moments of character suffering such as all of the sexual abuse and Anthy’s suicide attempt (which he literally cites) should be read as symbolic and be “approached with uncertainty rather than confusion”. (28:24-29:13)

This also somewhat falls apart when you consider Wakaba is the jeep in the movie's car chase

And then he rants about people not liking his Attack on Titan video for a bit. Since its potential symbolism also doesn't follow hard enough rules to be symbolism. Once again, the separation of “fact vs allegory” I haven’t watched AOT, so that's all I’ll say.

Part 5: Part 4

Thank god this part is short. Much like Dios’ on-screen presence.

32:55 Makes the extremely bold claim that Dios is not Akio. As in, never even became Akio. because Dios is Strictly Allegorical.

Just to be a pedant, this is pretty explicitly disproven in the show

Confusingly, both earlier and later he will address these two as the same character. 

33:04 he also explains the root of Akio’s name in a tone that suggests this is supplemental information and not like. Literally something he explains out loud in the show?

Part 6: Part 5

This section is nearly entirely about Akio Ohtori. I would like to note that him and Dios are the only characters with dedicated segments.

38:30 The part where he states that Dios gets his powers from deflowering women.

38:46 Claims, once again, that Akio’s abuse of Anthy “may not be literal”. 

38:59 “the instance of exploitation here is used because assault has deep roots as indicating that akio's gender is the source of his imbalance”  THE ASSAULT IS ABOUT AKIO NOW???

39:45 Bad Anthy take #2: “Anthy’s conformity to the Rose bride is based around the fact that she feels good being subservient because this is the only thing in her life that has ever brought her any kind of positive reward”. This is a direct quote. Anyway, I can’t think of any instances in the show where Anthy’s subservience gives her a positive reward, except maybe when she’s intentionally using it to manipulate others. As for her feeling good being the rose bride. She tries to commit suicide. Dude.

Side tangent, but isn’t this exactly what Akio says during the final 2 episodes? That Anthy enjoys being a witch? Is the main villain, who consistently says things during that very episode that are blatantly false, our source of information for this take? I guess so, since this is the dedicated Akio section.

At 40:20 he decides to introduce the concept of Anthy, Akio, and Utena as stand-ins for wider concepts, which is antithetical to his approach in analysis beforehand

Part 7: Part 6

42:40 he finally acknowledges that he’s been spending too much time talking about Akio, and literally no time on characters like Nanami

46:10 states that Utena’s exclusive motivation “is to protect Anthy from the predatorial intentions of the other dualists”, which disregards the fact, which she states herself, that she was largely participating in the duels and protecting Anthy to feel like a prince

48:04 The part where he says that Akio has ‘chaotic Bi vibes’ in regards to him sleeping with Touga, who is 17 and implied to be a long-term victim

Part 8: Part 7

54:01: His concluding point is that Utena was the real prince all along. 

In true Somerton fashion, the video then ends over a scrolling wall of patrons, with not a single citation in sight.

[vixen-academia]

Free MIT online courses that sound interesting

Arts & Literature

Introduction to World Music

Reading Fiction

Literary Interpretation: Virginia Woolf's Shakespeare

Introduction to Photography

Foundations of Western Culture II: Renaissance to Modernity

Studies in Poetry - Briths Poetry and the Sciences of the Mind

Studies in Literary History: Modernism: From Nietzsche to Fellini

Screen Women: Body Narratives in Popular American Film

Studies in Poetry: "What's the Use of Beauty"

Queer Cinema and Visual Culture

Monteverdi to Mozart: 1600 - 1800

Writing and Experience: Reading and Writing Autobiography

Advanced Topics in Hispanic Literature and Film: The Films of Luis Buñel

Major Authors: Rewriting Genesis: "Paradise Lost" and Twentieth-Century Fantasy

Arthurian Literature and Celtic Colonization

Contemporary Literature: Britsh Novel Now

Studies in Poetry: 20th Century Irish Poetry: The Shadow of W. B. Yeats

Writing About Literature: Writing About Love

Introduction to European and Latin American Fiction: Great Books On The Page and On The Screen

Popular Culture and Narrative: Use and Abuse of the Fairy Tale

Victorian Literature and Culture

Reading Poetry

English Renaissance Drama: Theatre and Society in the Age of Shakespeare

Introduction to Fiction

International Woman's Voice

Major Authors: Oscar Wilde and the "90's"

Prizewinners: Nobelistas

American Authors: American Women Authors

Shakespeare, Film and Media

Japanese Literature and Cinema

Woman's Novels: A Weekly Book Club

Classics of Chinese Literature

Major English Novels

Topics in South Asia Literature and Culture

Introduction to Literary Theory

History & Social Studies

American Classics

The Middle East in the 20th Century

Africa and the Politics of Knowledge

The Rise of Modern Science

European Imperialism in the 19th and 20th Century

Philosophy of Love

Human Rights: At Home and Abroad

The Nature of Creativity

Introduction to Comparative Politics

Riots, Rebellions, Revolutions

Introduction to the History of Technology

Ancient Philosophy

Youth Political Participation

[rottenpumpkin13]

what the dumbest situation agszc have gotten each other into??

Sephiroth: Talked Genesis into helping him sneak into Hojo's office to retrieve test results Sephiroth had been denied access to. Genesis agreed without hesitation, because he lives for drama. The plan fell apart immediately when Hojo walked in mid-search. Before Sephiroth could come up with a rational excuse, Genesis exclaimed "Oh no! He's having an episode!" And began listing symptoms Sephiroth was having while fanning him with a book.

Sephiroth spent the next eight hours undergoing tests, observations, and listening to Hojo's theories on "SOLDIER psychological thresholds." The following morning, Sephiroth showed up at Genesis' apartment with a crowbar.

Angeal: Convinced Genesis and Sephiroth to help him bring dirt up to his apartment for his new plants. For reasons no one could later explain, they used suitcases. And the stairwell. Three flights in, Sephiroth slipped, sending his suitcase tumbling down four flights and spilling dirt everywhere. Genesis laughed so hard he lost his grip. Dirt spilled everywhere as Angeal yelled and Genesis rolled. Security camera footage later revealed the three of them covered in dirt, furiously scooping it into bags with their hands. Maintenance filed a formal complaint.

Genesis: Convinced Sephiroth to play wingman for him with a cute barista at the mess hall. He gave Sephiroth a very specific script to follow, which Sephiroth immediately ignored. After a brief introduction, Sephiroth deadpanned "My friend over there finds you fertile and an optimal sexual partner" as he pointed to Genesis, who was in the process of sprinting out of the mess hall. Sephiroth remained, calmly ordering a coffee as though nothing had happened. They were both banned from the mess hall for a week and written up.

Zack: Convinced Cloud that calling a professional to fix the leaky sink in his apartment was unnecessary because "real men solve their own problems." They were armed with duct tape, a wrench, and MoogleTube tutorials. Ten minutes later, the pipe burst, sending water spraying across the kitchen. Zack's solution was to "tighten it harder," which caused the faucet to snap off entirely. Cloud, in his panic to shut off the water, slipped on the rapidly forming puddle and crashed into Zack, who managed to knock over a cabinet for good measure. By the time Angeal arrived to check in on why there was screaming and water coming from under the door, Zack and Cloud were on their knees in prayer before the leaking sink.

[wisteriasymphony]

If the ML world special focusing on Kagami is all about launching a spin-off then I need the Rio one with Luka to be entirely lore based just to make up for it. That's why he's still in Brazil, Su-Han is teaching him All The Horrors

Technically, I feel like it won't even focus on Kagami, either. The bulk of that looks like it'll go to the three new pilots (Miki, Mayotte, Yu Lu iirc?) as this will essentially be setting up the aforementioned spin-off.

I doubt any of the specials are going to be lore-heavy, if I'll be honest. At least when it comes to kwamis—New York and Shanghai were about establishing the other magic systems/powers existing in the world, and I feel like the Native American Miraculouses in New York and the Supreme/Reverse shit in Paris were a lot more shallow than I'd like them to be and only served to bring up more questions than answers. The London Special was half- damage control for S5 finale and half- Chrysalis setup.

While I have mentioned to people in the past that I was not a fan of the early special ideas (Lady Rose, Lady Tiger, Lady Lion, Lady Butterfly, see a pattern?), they at least promised the introduction of new kwamis.

So, why are they not doing that anymore? My theory is that establishing separate magic systems (in addition to frontloading the whole planned superhero comic book universe setup as fast as possible) is a very easy way to prevent power creep. They don't have to worry about making kwamis with powers that are increasingly bigger threats if they don't make kwamis at all, right?

...The fan kwamis I've made for the tongue-in-cheek "Chat Noir London/Tokyo Specials" are in essence me trying to argue that this line of logic is faulty. I think weaker kwamis would make fantastic villains, because then you have to get creative with how it's executed in ways that can still be threatening. Hell, Tenggu is a great example of this! Capture perfectly skirts around being a direct copy of Fetch or Voyage*, and while on its surface a power that lets you remotely move one thing once sounds lame I wrote a scene where a character uses it to kill someone! And, sure, maybe networks are so sensitive nowadays that nobody can die anymore in a kid's movie even offscreen. My point still stands, there are ways to expand the kwami roster without jeopardizing the system as it is.

*When Capture is activated, the holder draws a boundary around an object, and with a flick of the wrist the object is transported to a location of their choice. Because it does not require touch and does not bring the object directly into the holder's hands, it's not Fetch. Because it can only move one object and is a one-way transportation, it's not Voyage. Plus, the caveat of a boundary means that the object needs to be immobile or otherwise unable to exit the boundary, which causes problems for capturing moving or complex targets. Simple to understand, has a lot of room to be used creatively, etc. With the existence of Genesis and Amokitization I would even say the resemblance-but-not-direct-copy is a point to its favor and not against it.

[heartmaddie]

parfum d'étoiles | k.akaashi

introductions; the miseducation of bokuakakurotsukkiken

⋆｡°✩ keiji akaashi

he loves 'all about lily chou chou' and 'neon genesis evangelion' , a bit of a loser but it's commonly understood across the campus that he's quite attractive. keiji wears thrifted, archival fashion, but also buys modern clothing - doesn't indulge in fast fashion. he wears women's pants that he thrifts and he shares clothes with tsukishima a lot but they're sometimes baggy on him. he used to drink a lot of coffee, but switched to genmaicha right before university started. has a dog named pochi , breed is undecided (akaashi likes cats too but his mom likes dogs). he really likes kiyoko's sense of style and buys from her depop often - also is a deep reader and helps tsukishima with his booktok account.

⋆｡°✩ kei tsukishima

he made a booktok account as a joke to clown on colleen hoover but then blew up (i think of daniel yeo when i think of tsuki as a creator), he's just been posting occasionally since then but has a nice following he enjoys interacting with. tsukishima is a big fan of cable knit sweaters and corduroy pants, he dresses quite casually but owns a couple of more expensive pieces, all thrifted not made to wear. even though he doesn't care about his own fashion, he loves buying the photography archives of fashion designers and looks through them often. he likes chai lattes or oolong tea. he likes a range of music, but focuses on radiohead the most. he hates a lot of mainstream booktok books , colleen hoover, icebreaker etc, but also hates murakami , dazai and bukowski.

⋆｡°✩ tetsuro kuroo

he's kind of cool if you try to forget the fact that he actively tries so seem cooler. suffers from soo much fomo it's actual insanity (based off of one of my irls). he loves r&b , the REALEST ms lauryn hill fan, but has a wide range of music taste as well. he's the glue in this group chat and it would be dead if it wasn't him and bokuto spamming it all the time. he loves croissants and old libraries even if he doesn't read, he likes the ambience while he's catching up on his university lectures. he skips all of them (self indulgent). he changes his bio on twitter every 25 minutes and it's just the captions of tiktoks he giggled from - it's abhorred. i think a lot of people look at him from afar because he's quite attractive but his aura is so intimidating that no one goes up to him..

⋆｡°✩ kotaro bokuto

bokuto is a very rowdy and energetic person, which is why he's perfect to be akaashi's best friend! he struggles a bit with being too pushy. especially with akaashi who he sometimes forces to do things he doesn't want to do. he's sort of slow and unaware, but he means the best for everybody. he has no opps. he unironically plays roblox (uses his younger cousins as an excuse but actually loves it) and his favourite games are dress to impress and gym simulator. unlike akaashi, bokuto stayed friends with yn after high school ended but just doesn't talk to her as often - him and yn were never as close as akaashi and yn. bokuto really likes cheese, especially gouda, but also flightless birds.

⋆｡°✩ kenma kozume

kenma is winning every single idgaf war on the entire planet, i'm not even kidding. (but on a more serious note, he does look out for his friends in his own special way). he loves any sort of energy drink, and his favourite food is tiramisu because it wakes him right up and he likes mascarpone. he strictly wears uniqlo airism shirts and rotates through 4 different pairs of pants (jeans, gray sweatpants, black sweatpants and jorts). he likes to stay home and watch films with akaashi, play different games with bokuto and have long conversations with tsukishima. they all used to live separately (bokuaka , kuroken and then tsukki by himself before moving in all together)

please consider liking , reblogging or following if you enjoyed send an ask or reply to the masterlist if you'd like to be on the taglist :p

taglist : @akaashislovee

©heartmaddie all rights reserved. please do not repost my work.

[runeruinrequiem]

aether & ash - genesis.

Route: Sukuna & Choso - Combined (Introductions)

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: Mentions of blood & parental death. Slight sexual/suggestive language.

Masterlist

Erythraen Academy was massive.

That was your first thought upon arriving at the institution, a sprawling stronghold nestled in a jagged mountain, carved into the stone itself as though it had always been part of the landscape. Like a slumbering beast waiting to awaken. The academy loomed against the sky, its towers piercing through the clouds like obsidian claws.

It looked like a castle, but it was so much more.

The maze-like corridors stretched deep into the mountain’s heart, twisting and turning in ways that made even the more seasoned students lose their way. Narrow staircases wound up into shadowed ceilings, disorienting and certainly a heavy workout. You’d bet you could hit your 10,000 step a day goal just by going from one class to another. Even the land surrounding the school beyond the ancient iron front gates was massive - a dense sea of towering evergreens, their rough bark nearly black as the night sky, pressing in close like a crowd of silent, shadowed onlookers.

Erythraen was so big that it boasted not just one, but four libraries, each a source of knowledge likely older than the academy itself. There were far more books than the shelves could hold - haphazardly stacked on tables, in corners, and even on the floor, as you had quickly come to learn. Some were so old that their leather-bound spines cracked at the slightest touch, their pages brittle as dried autumn leaves. You feared they’d turn to dust the second you brushed against them.

There was so much to see, so much to learn.

And, of course, there were the Six Great Houses.

You had been sorted into House Nocturne your first night. You decided quite quickly that it was fitting, considering your parents were shadow mages.

But your sorting had not been normal.

Typically, all first-years gathered at the end of their first week, deep within the Whispering Woods, where the ceremony took place in a cavern. The Eclipse Conclave conducted the ritual each year.

Headmaster Delacroix had explained it very briefly to you while he was doing your sorting assessment.

“We give the first-years a week to adjust to the Academy,” Headmaster Delacroix had said, his words both calm and practiced, as though he had recited this explanation countless times before. (Truthfully, he had. He’d been Headmaster for nearly as long as you had been alive.) “They can explore, ask questions, meet the heads of each house and familiarize themselves with each of the houses. It gives them the chance to see where they feel they belong. Testing the waters, so to speak.”

As he spoke, he retrieved a crisp handkerchief from the pocket of his deep navy coat, dabbing away the thin line of blood beading along the fresh cut on your wrist. The cloth was already stained in places. You didn’t want to linger on what the stains were from. 

For a moment, he turned away, rootling through one of the drawers in the heavy oak desk behind him. He seemed to find what he was looking for, pulling out a small tin and opening it, before handing something to you. A bandaid.

He offered a lopsided smile alongside the bandaid. “My apologies. I’m afraid I’m no good with healing magic. I was sorted into House Aether, you see.”

You nodded wordlessly, taking the bandaid from his outstretched hand. Peeling it open with your teeth, you applied it to the now-cleaned cut. Your eyes flicked up to watch him as he reached for a small glass vial, empty save for the few drops of your blood now swirling within it. Without hesitation, he added a pinch of translucent powder, the substance carrying a scent that was faintly sweet, like dried lavender and crushed petals.

You hesitated before asking, curiosity gnawing at you. “So, once the week is up… what happens?”

The headmaster didn’t look up as he carefully swirled the mixture, observing how the powder dissolved into the blood. “After that, myself and the Eclipse Conclave oversee the sorting process. I’m not sure how familiar you are with them, but they’re essentially the highest governing body within our world. Think of them as… our government.” He waved a hand dismissively before striding toward one of the many dust-covered bookshelves lining the room. He plucked a second vial filled with a clear liquid from the highest shelf and returned to the desk.

“They assign each first-year a series of tasks, one aligned with each of the six houses. These tasks aren’t long or difficult, but they give us insight into a student’s strengths and weaknesses. How they approach a challenge, where they excel, where they falter.” He paused, uncorking the vial before continuing. “That, paired with what we observe of their personality and, of course, the bloodletting ceremony–”

“The what?” You couldn’t stop yourself from cutting in, your head tilting slightly as you regarded him with narrowed eyes.

Delacroix chuckled, unfazed by your interruption. The sound was warm, almost amused, as he poured the now-red powder into the vial of murky water. It clouded immediately, tiny motes of color swirling like ink in the ocean. Sealing the glass, he gave it a gentle shake before setting it aside. With a gesture to the vial, he explained, “The same thing I’m doing now. Nothing invasive, as you can see. Just a small cut on the wrist and a drop of blood mixed with that very same powder you just saw me use, straight into some water from the cavern. That’s all it takes.”

You frowned slightly, watching the liquid swirl. “But… how does it help narrow things down?”

The headmaster picked up the vial again, giving it another shake. “You’ll see for yourself in just a few moments,” he said, glancing up at one of the many antique clocks above the fireplace. “But, essentially, when a student’s blood is mixed with this special powder - which is rumored to be made from fragments of each house’s mascot, mind you - and then combined with the cavern’s water, the mixture will shift in color.” He turned back to you, his lips quirking into a knowing smile. “The water will take on the color of the house that the student is most suited for. Usually, by the time we reach that step, we already know what the outcome will be thanks to the trials and such.”

You had hummed thoughtfully, considering it. “Alright… then why does the water have to be from that specific cavern?”

At that, Delacroix had laughed - a full-bodied chuckle that shook the desk he was leaning against. He wiped a stray tear from the corner of his eye before setting the vial back down. “Oh, my,” he sighed, shaking his head. “It doesn’t, actually. Not anymore. Really, we could hold the ceremony anywhere. These days, it’s more tradition than necessity. A bit of symbolism to keep the ritual alive.”

You had no more questions after that.

Not because you weren’t curious, but because, when your gaze drifted back to the vial, the murky water had begun to shift. The swirling liquid darkened, deepening into a rich, velvety purple.

House Nocturne.

That all being said, you weren’t a first-year. New, yes, but not in the same wide-eyed, eager way as those stepping onto campus for the first time. Your education had been far from the structured, house-sorted traditions of Erythraen Academy. Your parents had preferred homeschooling - not the kind where a child sat at a kitchen table with textbooks ordered from some online shops, but something far more refined. With their wealth and status, they had the means to hire only the best private tutors. Esteemed scholars, masterful shadow mages; people whose names carried weight in the magical world. They had spared no expense in ensuring that their only child received the best education possible.

Then, just one month after their disappearance, the letter arrived.

A formal invitation from Headmaster Delacroix himself, bearing the wax seal of Erythraen Academy. A full-ride offer. No cost, no conditions - just a place at the Academy, should you choose to accept. The explanation had been simple: he and your parents had once been classmates, friends even, during their time at the Academy. While he had respected their decision to homeschool you, he felt a responsibility to ensure your education continued.

You didn’t really believe that was the full truth.

And so, at twenty years old, you found yourself bypassing the first two years entirely, stepping straight into your third year like a ghost slipping into a body that was never meant to be theirs. Something entirely too weird, too wrong, too out of reach.

Erythraen, from what you had gathered, was less of a school and more of an institution. It was something between an elite finishing academy and a university. Most students were over eighteen, already well-versed in the basics of magic. The Academy wasn’t for novices; it was for those who sought mastery. Some trained for powerful guilds, others prepared for a life spent beyond the veil - the fragile boundary separating the magical world from the mundane.

None of that was why you were here.

No.

Your parents had vanished on Samhain. You had been out that night, indulging in an attempt at normalcy, celebrating Halloween with your few mortal friends. When you returned home at two in the morning, the house had been silent in a way that sent ice curling down your spine. And then you saw it.

The sigil.

Carved deep into the dark oak floors of your family home, its spirals and runes fresh, still humming with what you knew to be residual magic. Shadows were burned into the floral design of the living room wallpaper, their twisting forms unnatural, impossible to scrub away. A stain left behind not by hands, but by something else.

As terrifying as it had been, you knew, deep in your bones, that your parents weren’t dead. You felt it, an ache in your gut that refused to fade, a certainty that stole your sleep in the weeks that followed and kept you grasping at every lead, every whisper of an answer.

Your parents had always taught you to trust your instincts.

"Trust your instincts. They will take you further than your eyes ever will."

And your instincts had led you here.

Like a bloodhound on the scent, something inside you had pushed you toward Erythraen Academy, whispering over and over that this was where you would find answers. You had ignored the headmaster’s invitation at first, letting the letter sit untouched on your desk while you exhausted every other option. But after your hundredth dead end in a row, frustration had boiled over and you had given in. You had scrawled out your acceptance, apologizing for the delay and asking for further details.

Eight months, two weeks, and five days ago, the headmaster had sent you the invite.

Six months, three weeks, and six days ago, you had sent your acceptance letter.

Six months, three weeks, and five days ago, the headmaster sent you all of the details you needed.

Three weeks ago, you arrived on campus. You had been sorted quickly, since you had missed the initial sorting deadline for the first-years. 

Three weeks later, you still hadn’t interacted with the other students. Which was fine. You weren’t here to belong.

It was for the best.

You weren’t here for “lifelong friendships” or, “the challenges of the mind, body, and soul” that Headmaster Delacroix had waxed poetic about in his second letter (the official welcome correspondence, which he later apologized profusely for, calling it a formality).

No, none of that mattered to you.

You were here because something in your life had gone terribly, inexplicably wrong. Because your gut refused to let you rest. Because your parents were missing, and you would claw through the very fabric of reality if it meant finding out what happened that night. The Conclave deemed it a Samhain ritual gone wrong. You knew better.

If, along the way, you happened to learn some new tips and tricks? All the better. But so far, most of the third-year curriculum was a laughable review. It was all things you had already mastered under the strict tutelage of your private instructors long before setting foot on campus.

Fortunately, Professor Delacroix had granted you special permission to skip any lecture or class you deemed unnecessary, so long as you passed every exam with flying colors. A fair trade, really. It freed up your time, allowing you to focus on what actually mattered to you.

Which was why, instead of wasting away in a lecture hall, you were sitting in the Abyssal Archives - one of the four massive libraries that the Academy boasted, and by far the oldest.

Found within the Hall of Shadows, deep in the same labyrinth-like tunnels that housed House Nocturne’s sanctum, the Archives felt more like a forgotten relic than an academic resource. Towering shelves loomed in the dim candlelight, threatening to spill over into precarious, ceiling-high stacks of ancient tomes and scrolls. 

It was an easy place to lose track of time. Too easy. You had already spent far more hours here than you should have, combing through brittle pages, chasing the whispers that tugged at the base of your soul.

But if there was any place on campus that might hold the answers you sought, it was here.

The sigil from that night burned in your memory with an unnatural clarity, etched so deeply into your mind’s eye that even if you hadn’t copied it down over and over, you were certain you would still see it, pulsing behind your eyelids every time you closed them.

You just needed to find the damned thing.

Somewhere in these ancient texts, buried in a book of arcane knowledge, there had to be a match. A reference. Something.

And once you found it, you’d have your first real piece of the puzzle.

You had been poring over the books for hours. So long, in fact, that the candlestick you had lit to help you read had burned down to a stub - twice. The milky white wax dripped lazily onto the tarnished brass holder, pooling beside the stack of texts you had yet to sift through. Your eyes stung, dry and scratchy from too much time spent scanning dense archaic script under the dim candlelight. Honestly, you appreciated the commitment to the aesthetic, but you couldn’t help but wish that Erythraen would invest in some damn lamps.

Maybe it was time for a break. A few minutes to stretch your legs, rest your eyes, get some water, soothe your parched throat. Just a quick walk, you reasoned, already pushing back from the heavy wooden table.

And then…

A giggle.

A fucking giggle.

The soft, breathy sound echoed through the supposedly empty library. You stilled, pulse kicking up slightly.

What the fuck?

You narrowed your eyes, tilting your head slightly, as if the shift in angle would somehow sharpen your hearing. Another giggle followed - then hushed, hurried whispers. A rustle of fabric. And then - 

A wet, slick noise.

Oh, hell no.

Your lip curled in disgust as realization dawned.

With an irritated growl, you snapped the book shut and slammed it against the desk with a resounding thud. “Hey!” You shot to your feet, voice cutting through the dimly lit expanse. The giggles and whispers immediately stopped. “Go somewhere else for that shit.”

You were not about to endure the horrors of someone’s makeout session - or worse - while trying to unravel this Gods-damned mystery.

A beat of silence. Then the frantic shuffle of feet, hurried movement deeper in the Archives. A door slammed somewhere deep within the stacks, and you exhaled. Shoulders sagging, you dropped back into your seat. Flicking the book open again, you rubbed at your temple, muttering under your breath.

Finally.

All was well…

…Until it wasn’t.

A pair of hands slammed down on either side of your book, caging you against the desk.

You froze.

Slowly, your gaze dropped to the hands bracketing the pages. Large, calloused, with thick veins coiling beneath sun-bronzed skin. Broad palms, long fingers, tendons flexing subtly under the skin as their grip tightened against the wood. The forearms were strong, roped with lean muscle, leading up to thick biceps. 

Two thick black bands encircled each wrist like manacles. Your breath hitched.

Slowly, veeery slowly, your gaze trailed upward, following the path of powerful arms to broad, well-defined shoulders, then to a chest that was, frankly, unreasonably built.

Jesus fucking Christ. Who had muscles like that?

Your head turned.

A smirking face hovered far too close for comfort, crimson eyes locked onto your own. Sharp angular features, a wide, slightly crooked nose, pink hair that was tousled in a way that suggested either pure carelessness or intentional dishevelment. You already knew why it looked like that.

Full lips, pulled into a smirk that teetered on the edge of a sneer, parting just enough to reveal sharp, pearly-white teeth. A pair of black gauges adorned each ear, glinting faintly in the low light. Slits marked his eyebrows, cutting through his sharp expression like battle scars. Dark, inked lines decorating his face, bold and unmistakable.

"Can I fucking help you?" You scowled as you glared at the stranger, irritation prickling in your veins.

Your hostility only seemed to amuse. His smirk stretched wider, sharp teeth flashing under the dim library lights.

"I dunno, brat. Can you?" His voice was low, teasing, even, as he leaned in closer. Close enough you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. His eyes, half-lidded and lazily predatory, flicked over your face before trailing down your neck, lower still, to your chest–

Yeah, that was enough.

You leaned back sharply, twisting your body away from him as much as possible without falling out of your chair. Your scowl curled into a sneer. "If you have nothing better to do than be a menace, please kindly leave me alone."

A swat of your hand knocked his away from your book, but all you earned was a loud scoff.

A moment later, the wooden chair beside you scraped against the floor, the screeching noise splitting through the library’s quiet. You winced.

Then, he flopped into it, the poor chair groaning under his sheer size. Honestly, you wouldn't have minded if it just collapsed under him. You didn’t even know the guy, but you already knew he deserved it.

But unfortunately, it held.

You could feel his eyes on you as he propped his chin against his hand.

"Why should I?" His voice was a deep gravelly purr, the kind of tone that might have made you swoon if you were in literally any other situation. But right now, it only made your teeth clench.

One of his large, calloused hands reached out, fingers barely brushing against your hair.

Your scowl deepened, and you slapped his hand away. He chuckled as he withdrew, like he found your irritation amusing.

"Because I'm busy and don't enjoy interruptions," you bit out.

That earned you another laugh - well, more of a scoff, really.

"You shittin' me right now?" He tilted his head, expression darkening when you didn't react. "You were the one who interrupted me, brat."

You physically could not hold back your scoff. "Oh, my bad, why don't you take your hookups to the dorms and not the damn library if you're so concerned about being interrupted?"

That earned you a shrug. "More fun."

Oh Gods, this guy–

You decided against giving him the satisfaction of a response. Instead, you forced yourself to return to the book in front of you, eyes flicking over the words, trying and failing to slip back into focus.

Minutes passed.

Time blurred together as you finally found your rhythm again, sinking into the text. The silence might have been bearable, if not for the unwavering stare burning into the side of your face.

Fucking creep.

Finally, he broke the silence. "Haven't seen you around before," he mused, voice casual now. "But you're too old to be a first-year."

And then, he reached out and flicked your ear.

Your patience snapped.

With a sharp slam, you shut your book again, knocking his hand away a third time with even more force.

"That’s because I'm not," you said, teeth gritted. "I'm a third-year."

Before you could continue and tell him in plain terms to piss off, he cut in smoothly, "Which House?" You narrowed your eyes at him. He raised both hands, palms up in mock surrender, but that insufferable smirk never wavered. "I'm just curious," he drawled. "Don't get your panties in a twist."

You could feel your blood pressure rising.

"House Nocturne," you spat, each syllable dripping with irritation.

And just like that, his smirk stretched impossibly wider, like the fucking Grinch’s heart growing three sizes.

"Ooooh," he drawled, eyes glinting with unrestrained amusement. "You're the new student Headmaster What's-His-Face told me about!"

You might have ignored his blatant disrespect toward the Headmaster, if not for what came next.

"I'm Ryomen Sukuna." His expression turned razor-sharp as he leaned in closer. "Head of House Nocturne."

“Oh, fuck you.”

After enduring several more minutes of relentless grilling from Sukuna, his questions veering between infuriating and downright inappropriate, you’d finally excused yourself from the suffocating atmosphere of the Abyssal Archives.

Not that he made it easy.

“What are you doing here instead of being in class?” he’d asked, lounging in that creaking chair like he owned the place, eyes flicking over you with far too much interest.

When you didn’t answer fast enough, he added with a smirk, “If you’re gonna skip, why the hell would you do it in this dusty old crypt?”

And then - your least favorite of all, tossed out with mock innocence and a glint in his eyes that told you he was anything but - “Wanna make it up to me for interrupting earlier?”

Absolutely not.

The second there was even a shred of space between his constant teasing remarks and questions, you stood, muttered something that vaguely resembled an excuse, and left before he could trap you in another round of questions you had no desire to answer.

The air outside the archives felt lighter, less stifling. You rolled your shoulders and stretched your arms above your head, sighing gratefully at the sensation of your joints popping and muscles loosening. A slow walk through the quieter parts of the building helped ground you, and by the time you made your way to the kitchens, the scent of warm bread had fully distracted you from the encounter.

You snagged a quick snack and something to drink, leaning against the expansive counter for a few moments to collect yourself. You checked the time and sighed when you realized classes had already ended for the day.

Which, unfortunately, meant the Abyssal Archives would no longer be the secluded, peaceful haven it had been earlier. The odds of it still being empty were slim. Students would be trickling in soon, if they weren’t already there - studying, chatting, and worst of all, lingering.

You grimaced at the thought. The one thing worse than dealing with Sukuna was dealing with other people while also trying to avoid Sukuna.

Still, with a deep breath and one final sip of your drink, you turned and headed back toward the archives.

At the very least, you figured you could squeeze in a bit more digging.

You couldn’t help but feel surprised the moment you stepped back into the Abyssal Archives.

Sure, there were a few students scattered across the room now - curled over ancient tomes at the desks scattered throughout the room, tucked between the looming shelves, whispering in hushed tones - but it wasn’t nearly the crowd you had expected. You’d been bracing for the worst: a packed library full of noise, distractions, and not a single seat to spare. Instead, it was...manageable. Quiet, even.

Then again, maybe you shouldn’t have been so shocked.

Most of the students present were faces you had seen in passing within Nocturne’s sanctum. Which, in hindsight, made sense. The Abyssal Archives were far from the main halls of the academy. It was far more likely that students from the other houses favored the closer, better-lit libraries aboveground.

Even more surprising was the sight that greeted you when you reached your table: everything was exactly as you had left it.

Your heart gave a little leap. The book you’d been combing through earlier was still lying open, spine slightly cracked from wear. A loose stack of scrolls remained undisturbed, your notes still wedged between them. Even the old candlestick you’d lit before your encounter with Sukuna was still burning steadily, its wax having barely dripped down the side. No one had touched your things.

You hummed in relief, sinking back into the high-backed chair with a sigh. Maybe your luck was turning around. Maybe you could actually get something done this time.

That hope was short-lived.

A throat clearing broke through the stillness, and your eyes slowly lifted in mild irritation toward the source of the sound.

Another student stood at the opposite end of your table. He wore all black - fitted black jeans and a snug crewneck t-shirt that clung to his body like a second skin, the fabric soft-looking but stretched slightly at the shoulders and arms. His hair, ink-black and thick, was tied up into two sharp, spiky ponytails jutting out on either side of his head. 

He had a pale, almost sickly complexion that contrasted starkly against the dark circles under his eyes - purple like bruises, as though he hadn’t slept in weeks. The shadows clinging to his face only made his eyes stand out more: large, heavily lidded, and a deep, near-bottomless brown that shimmered faintly under the candlelight. But it was the tattoo across the bridge of his nose that really caught your attention - a single black line that slashed horizontally beneath both eyes.

He didn’t say a word. Just stood there, watching you, waiting.

You raised a single eyebrow, tilting your head just slightly as you stared him down, silently waiting. If he was going to barge in and interrupt you, the least he could do was get to the point.

He hesitated for a beat, then offered a sheepish grin that tugged lopsidedly at his mouth. “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt,” he said, though the nervous pitch to his voice suggested otherwise.

Now both of your eyebrows were up, your expression morphing into a sharp, unimpressed look that clearly translated to: Are you sure about that?

He laughed, quiet and a little awkward, rubbing the back of his neck as he broke eye contact. “Okay, I do mean to interrupt you,” he admitted, shoulders hunching slightly as he reached into the pocket of his jeans. “But only because I was asked to.”

From the pocket, he pulled out a slightly crumpled, folded piece of paper and held it out to you.

You didn’t move right away, eyes flicking between him and the paper before you finally reached out and took it. As you carefully unfolded the note, he continued speaking.

“My cousin asked me to give this to, and I quote, ‘the girl who comes back to this desk,’ which I assume means you.”

You glanced down at the note, your stomach twisting in irritation as you read it. The words were scrawled hastily in aggressive, almost illegible handwriting, written with more ego than effort.

Text me if you feel like making it up to me.-Ryomen Sukuna

Of course, he included a poorly drawn winky face and his number, as if you’d be falling over yourself to respond. Your lip curled into a sneer as you folded the note back up with exaggerated care, briefly entertaining the idea of setting it on fire with the still-burning candlestick nearby.

You turned your gaze back to the man in front of you, tone dry as desert air. “Thank you,” you said, then added, “I don’t believe I caught your name?”

This time, his smile was softer. No arrogance, no smirk, just a gentle expression that immediately set him apart from his cousin. “I’m Choso Kamo,” he replied. “I’m in House Umbra, but I usually come down here to help out in the Archives. Sorting, filing, that kind of stuff.”

Ah. A life story you hadn’t asked for, but compared to Sukuna, Choso was practically a gift. Quiet, polite, maybe a little awkward, but leagues more tolerable than his shitty cousin who thought a winky face was flirting.

You slipped the note into your pocket, fingers curling just slightly around the paper as if that alone might crush the smug energy radiating off it. The urge to set the damn thing ablaze was strong, especially with a perfectly good candlestick still flickering within arm’s reach, but incinerating it in front of Sukuna’s cousin probably wouldn’t win you any points. 

No, better to save that little act of catharsis for later, once you were safely back in your dorm and far away from prying eyes. Maybe you’d even toast a marshmallow over it, for dramatic flair.

You gave Choso your name, and he smiled again; soft, genuine, and so incredibly unlike his cousin.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he said, and at your subtle raise of an eyebrow, he clarified, “It’s not every day we get a student starting late into the term. And even then, it’s never someone who isn’t a first-year. Word travels pretty fast around here.”

That actually pulled a laugh out of you. “Surprising, considering how huge this place is.”

Choso nodded in agreement, lips curving into something a little more amused. “Yeah, I know, right? But gossip? Gossip is one hell of a drug. And in a place like this…” He gave a small shrug. “People tend to overdose.”

You huffed a laugh through your nose. Okay, you decided, I like this guy. It was baffling, really, how someone so approachable and chill could be related to a human migraine. Somewhere along the family tree, something had to have gone hilariously wrong. Or right, depending on how you looked at it.

He spoke up again. “Sorry, I just… couldn’t help noticing. You seem really focused on runes. Is there a particular one you’re looking for?” He looked at you with wide brown eyes, equal parts curious and earnest, like a puppy who’d found something new and shiny and just had to know what it was. It was… honestly kind of endearing.

You hesitated for a moment, wanting to brush the question off with a polite deflection. But then you remembered what he’d said earlier, about how he helped out here, in the Archives. And if there was even a chance he could make your search easier…

“Actually, yeah,” you said, leaning back slightly. “I’ve been digging for weeks, but I haven’t found the right one yet. I was wondering if there’s anything like an encyclopedia? Something that catalogs all the runes and symbols?”

Choso’s expression lit up like you’d just asked him to show off his favorite collection. “Yeah! Totally. We’ve got a couple of reference texts that cover pretty much every recorded rune, even the obscure ones. Give me just a sec, I know exactly where they are.”

And before you could so much as blink, he turned and darted into the labyrinth of shelves, vanishing between two aisles with a fluidity that reminded you of the very shadows that lingered in the Archives.

It didn’t take Choso long to return - less than a few minutes, in fact - and when he reappeared, he was carrying a stack of three massive tomes, each one thick enough to be used as a doorstop or a blunt weapon. The leather-bound covers were cracked with age much like most of the other books in the library, the gold detailing faded and flaking, and the metal clasps on the sides gave soft clinks with each step he took. They looked absurdly heavy. And when he dropped them onto the table in front of you with a resonant thud, the weight of them made the candle flame flicker.

But what surprised you most was how effortlessly he had carried them. His gait had been relaxed, casual even, like he’d been toting around feather-filled pillows instead of books that could absolutely double as weapons. Your eyes flicked to his arms, noting the strength hidden beneath the sleeves of his shirt. Definitely a sleeper build. Subtle, not showy, but solid. You quickly looked away before you got caught staring.

“These don’t really get used much,” Choso said, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “Each of the other libraries has their own set, so if you want to take them back to your dorm, you totally can. Nobody’s going to miss them.”

You nodded, already feeling the stirrings of hope bubbling in your chest. A lead, finally. “Thank you so much, Choso. Seriously. I really appreciate it.”

He gave you another of his warm smiles. “No problem. I’ll let you get back to it, but if you need anything else, just let me know. I’m here every day after classes end.”

You nodded again, mentally filing that information away in your ‘Useful People to Know’ folder. Choso turned and strolled off, presumably to resume his unofficial duties - since, to your knowledge, Erythraen didn’t actually have any formal librarians. Just a haunted castle full of old books and people like him who clearly liked it enough to keep it all from collapsing into chaos.

You turned your attention back to the stack in front of you, pulling the top book from the pile and opening it slowly, careful not to damage the delicate pages. The scent of old parchment hit you immediately. You exhaled, then leaned in, eyes scanning the first page as you resumed your search.

Maybe this time, you’d find something worthwhile.

[cassettefuturism]

A brief introduction to Cassette Futurism

Cassette Futurism is a subgenre of science fiction that's characterized by outdated technology from the 70s-90s like cassette tapes, VHS, early computers, floppy disks, telephones, polaroids, game consoles and other analogue technology, architecture and music reimagined in a retro-futuristic style.

The genre also includes general appreciation for the actual technology and aesthetic of the time period, which also includes references and callbacks to 70s-90s pop culture.

The exact origin of Cassette Futurism is hard to pinpoint but we know its popularity began to see a rise in the 2010s on websites like YouTube, Instagram, Twitter and Tumblr.

The genre most likely branched out from other movements that involved nostalgic elements like Cyberpunk and Vaporware.

All of them have similar key elements such as:

• Retro-tech aesthetic

• Neon-lit color schemes

• Distorted, glitchy visuals

• Synth-heavy soundtracks

Examples of Cassette Futurism in media:

Movies

• Solaris (1972)

• Star wars (1977-)

• Alien & Aliens (1979)(1986)

• Back to The Future Part I & II (1985)(1989)

• Deadpool and Wolverine (2024)

TV Shows

• Classic Doctor Who (1963-1989)

• The Mandalorian (2019-)

• Infinity Train (2019-2023)

• Loki (2021-2021)

• The Book of Boba Fett (2022)

AniManga

• Akira (1988)

• Ghost In The Shell (1995)

• Neon Genesis Evangelion (1995-1996)

• Cowboy Bebop (1998-1999)

• Lycoris Recoil (2022)

Video Games

• Half Life (1998)

• Portal series (2007)(2011)(2022)

• Alien: Isolation (2014)

• Bomb Rush Cyberpunk (2023)

• Intergalactic: The Heretic Prophet

Community:

Wiki

Subreddit

Facebook Group

Aaaaaaand that's about it, thank you for reading this far and I hope you all have a wonderful day.

And remember, The Future is saved 200KB at a time.

[cryptotheism]

where did the word alchemy come from?

from the Hanegraaff dictionary:

The West took over the concept of “alchemy” from the Arabic (al-kimiya) and its Latin forms include “alkimia”, “alquimia”, “alchimia” and “alchemia”. The prefix “al-” is simply the definite article in Arabic, but the etymological root of “chimia” is controversial. Its attribution to a mythical hero or prophet cannot be taken seriously. Equally untenable is its application to one of the “sons of God” in Genesis 1 and Joshua 2, named as Chemes, Chimes or Chymes in the apocryphal Book of Enoch, as Zosimos and Olympiodoros report. Even its derivation from the Egyptian word keme (black), denoting the black soil of Egypt and thus a metonym for Egypt itself, whereby alchemy would signify “the Egyptian Art”, has not been widely accepted. Nowadays it is usually traced back to the Greek work cheo (to pour). Accordingly, chymeia or chemeia would mean the craft of pouring molten metal. In view of what we under- stand by “alchemy” today, it is possible that the Greek word cheein (pouring) became confused with the Egyptian kem (black) in Hellenistic Egypt. If one looks for the Greek word chemeía in the usage of Hellenistic and Byzantine alchemists, one finds it to be disappointingly rare, for they prefer to speak of a “holy art”. By contrast, the Latin word chymia is frequently encountered in the medieval West, moreover synonymously with the introduction of the Arabic term, thus “alchemy” (Lat. alchimia). Not until the advent of the modern period is chymia used for the more practical art to distinguish it from the more theoretical alchemey

[verloonati]

Since i've started reading trough the vna again, here's my opinion about each and every one of them because it's my blog and i do what i want with it

VNA #1 Timewyrm: genesys (1991, John Peel)

Okay, this book is bad, like it's a disaster. The idea of "dr who meets gilgamesh" is pretty good on paper, but damn does this miss the mark at every term.

Every single scene with ace is gross mysoginistic mischaracterisation, Gilgamesh is insufferable, Ishtar is a completely uninteresting antagonist and her motives are cliché af.

At the very least, the stranded Anuans are an interesting twist and the introduction of avram makes for an interesting Change of Pace.

2/10, that was Five hours of my life i'm never getting back

[grison-in-space]

Reading Men Who Hate Women (Laura Bates, 2020) at the moment. She's talking about the manosphere: the massive online communities of men who congregate to talk misogyny, ranging from PUAs to MRAs, incels and MGTOW. These aren't new topics to me—I've been following this off and on since watching Gamergate kick off—but Bates handles them well and I think this book could serve as an introduction if this is a movement with which you're not familar. By the way, it's been a decade since Gamergate this year. Isn't that a kicker?

(Incidentally, I first ran into the concept of incels way before I think many people did: when I was still on AVEN, c. 2006-2007ish, I remember a few occasions where users ran into incel communities and brought them to our forums to ask: is this like what we're doing? Is this like us? Consensus quickly solidified on the direction of "no," each time, not least because asexuality dialog at the time was extremely clear about divorcing desire from action, and it was very clear that the desires centered in that community were very different than the ones people in asexuality spaces were untangling.)

Bates handles the topic with grace, compassion, and a deep understanding that I really wish more writing on radicalization or terroristic networks used: people in real pain, who are struggling in pitiable circumstances to do their best and clearly need more support, can also in their pain be truly dangerous to others. Hurt people hurt people. Compassion for pain suffered is important—you can't understand recruitment without understanding that—but you also have to understand that pain, fermented in darkness, can create deadly poisons. Pain isn't essentially holy or cleansing or cauterizing. It doesn't accomplish anything good by existing. If we can relieve it, we should—but we should follow harm reduction principles as we do so, lest pain be allowed to multiply and fester.

What gets me is that in 2017, in the wake of the Google bro "manifesto," I spent a feverish week writing what wound up being a 20,000 word rebuttal studded with what eventually totaled 100+ peer reviewed citations. It got quite a bit of reach and covered ground ranging from effects of testosterone on behavior, the concept of effect size in sex differences, basic statistics, the ways that humans treat people differently based on their perception of gender, intersex trauma, and whether feminists care about men's problems (yeah, actually, and they should).

I released that piece, changed up my name and fannish presence—my long time pseud was tangled all over the piece's genesis—and hunkered down for the reprisals. I expected harassment and vitriol. It never really came: I ignored the comments on the post, after a bit, and I held boundaries on what I was willing to pay attention to. But by and large, I had no direct consequences from the Manosphere.

Perhaps the piece was too long (although I got many comments from people who read it and found it useful, and I included an index). Perhaps it was simply that I included a headshot of myself, with uncharacteristic red lipstick and characteristically buzzed hair, and cheerfully discussed throughout that I was butch and queer: sometimes I confuse people who are very focused on bioessentialist sex differences, because I don't fit their paradigms in the slightest.

About six months later, James Damore attempted to frame his incredibly poor decisions in light of his Asperger's, and I did get a couple dudes on social media presenting me with this information apparently in the hope that it would shock or embarrass me. I immediately pointed out, acerbically, that I'm equally autistic and that he was making us look bad, and they melted away again into the background. It wasn't really the well of terrifying anger and obliterative fury I was expecting.

I find myself reading these stories in Bates' book and thinking about the internet I grew up on: AVEN by 2005, WrongPlanet the same year, listening to people on the margins talk about their fears and hopes and dreams and theories about themselves. I find myself thinking about narratives and meaning, the stories we tell ourselves about who we are and why.

I'm certainly not the first person to worry about radicalization of young autistic people, especially autistic men. Not even close. Paradoxically, it's a group of people for whom an understanding of intersectionality is crucial: young disabled men often alienated deliberately from conceptualizing themselves as disabled, without the tools to understand why life is hard and painful and never seems to reflect their experiences, trying to construct understanding beyond one's singular, isolated defective wrongness—which is what's left, if you take community off the table.

(Have I mentioned how grateful I am that so many autistics are trans spectrum? Imagine if we weren't, and if I didn't have so many transfeminine sisters funneled along those same currents and drifting closely enough alongside to understand. My sisters, so many of whom are out there living and modeling better ways to understand and participate in gender as a social activity: by figuring out what is most comfortable for you, understanding that comfort for one might be agony for another, and taking steps to shape your own life into a fashion that wells forth the most peace and joy. It's a message we all need to hear, but that is a group of people I hear singing so loudly from my place in a different wing of the choir, and I love them for it.)

I don't have answers. As is, so often, the case these days, I have only grief and love, and the determination to build better structures where my own hands reach. I had intended to direct my career, once, to undermining the entire concept of "good genes" models of evolution and explaining how their convoluted connections to natural phenomena are better explained by other, more direct motives. Since 2020, I've been moving in a new direction—but what precisely it is, I'm not sure.

Sex differences is certainly a piece of it, though. Even if I find myself often enough writing that it's not enough to know a sex difference in one species to assume that another will reflect a similar relationship: we should study sex differences in animals, but we really shouldn't assume that humans will have the same ones or work the same way. I suspect this won't be the first time I tangle with that community. I suppose it depends how much authority I can accrue as protection first.

[dailydemonspotlight]

The God you cravenly revere is dead...

DAY 100

Race: Tyrant

Arcana: Devil

Alignment: Dark-CHAOS

The prince of darkness needs no introduction. The Morning Star, the Devil, the Fallen Angel who brought about so much to our demon-focused blog. Sure, I may be jumping the gun a bit by covering him only on day 100, but given that his closest compatriot, Beelzebub, was covered on day 50, I feel it's warranted. Lucifer is iconic to the SMT series, a legendary figure who serves a major role in many games in the series, being the perfect representative of one of the three major alignments: Chaos. In most games throughout the series, Lucifer plays a part, even in ones disconnected from mainline- if there is chaos, there will be the dying light of the morning star. Even in Persona, a series mostly concerned with Jungian psychology, Lucifer commonly appears as a late-game persona, and even a form of him in Satanael is the final form of Joker's persona in Persona 5, being a representation of freedom and rebellion- after all, what else is more rebellious and free than rebelling against God himself?

I digress, however. Lucifer is as important to SMT as he is to Biblical history itself, after all, and this is a blog about the stories of demons, right? Lucifer himself is a major character in the Bible, appearing for certain first in the Book of Isaiah, though his overall relevance spreads beyond that. Even in the Book of Genesis, the very first story in the Bible, it's believed that the serpent that tricked Eve into eating the apple of knowledge was Lucifer, cast down from heaven. This interpretation is supported by Paradise Lost, a story I'll likely be referencing a lot here, but its importance to Lucifer and his interpretations throughout not just SMT, but history itself, cannot go understated.

The Devil's conniving ways are depicted throughout the bible in several verses, especially in the New Testament, wherein he's seen as a figure analogous to the Buddhist demon Mara, a being tempting humanity away from their rightful path of sin/good karma to partake in their desire. However, this isn't to spell a connection between the two, as Lucifer himself is given a far different story than Mara, as he is with many other tempters in religion, even including some other biblical figures such as Mastema. Instead, what we should be focusing on is Lucifer's existence as a fallen angel.

Lucifer's existence in the Bible is strange, as the name Lucifer is a translation from the original Latin Helel, meaning 'Light-bearer.' His first reference in one of the most prevalent translations of the Bible, the King James Bible, goes as follows:

How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! how art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations! For thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God: I will sit also upon the mount of the congregation, in the sides of the north: I will ascend above the heights of the clouds; I will be like the most High. Yet thou shalt be brought down to hell, to the sides of the pit.

This immediately points to Lucifer being an angel who fell for his own hype, so to speak- one who believed himself to be as strong, if not stronger than God, which led to him being cut down by the forces of Heaven. However, in Paradise Lost, it's shown that Lucifer was more than just vain- he held a rebellion, and when it fell, and he fell with it, he became Satan. I know, that's strange, but it's not really canon to the SMT interpretations of both characters- it just helps to shape Lucifer's characterization in the series as a rebellious figure who stood even against God himself. Strangely, adding on to this odd maze of interpretation, Lucifer was also commonly interpreted as the king of Babylon, the famously sinful city of evil described in the Bible. What I think all of this adds to is less a solid character of his and rather a general interpretation and idea that surrounds Lucifer- that of him being the embodiment of rebellion, chaos, and standing against the mold of society in order to partake in sin. There's a reason that his deadly sin, after all, is one of the most dangerous- that being Pride.

Lucifer's role in the Bible is strange, however, and many interpretations differ completely, whether they be him as Satan, him as the Devil, or even him as a tragic hero. However, as for SMT's purposes, it takes a very unique take, combining several aspects from several interpretations to make the Morning Star into a perfect prince of darkness. For one, it pulls a lot from Paradise Lost, giving Lucifer the role of a rebellious figure who rules over scores of demons, though it separates him from Satan in opposition to the poem. His sin of pride is intact, as he's shown to be a very individualistic figure throughout, valuing freedom and one's own strength above all else, tying very well into the purveying themes of individualism and might-makes-right that are constant in the Chaos ideology.

In terms of design, what is there really to say? Lucifer's design is utterly iconic- the six split wings, the gorgeous plays on the angelic aspects of his character, the great horns reaching sky-high, there's a reason so many were disappointed with his weird redesign in IV. Like, what were they doing? I get that he was meant to look offputting, but turning him into a skinhead was not the right way to go about it- well, whatever. Every design of Lucifer throughout the series has its merits, and I love how several games even have different human disguises for him- my personal favorite has to be Louis Cyphre, but I adore how each human disguise including Louis plays on the traditionally angelic traits of pale skin and blonde hair, though twists that on its head due to him commonly wearing all black.

Thank you all for tagging along with this series, and it is so ridiculously lucky that day 100 was placed perfectly on my birthday. There's gonna be more, for sure, coming soon, don't worry- but for now, I love you all, and goodnight. Or good morning. Whichever works.

You didn't even mention his role in Gnosticism!

Jack, I'm not touching on Gnosticism with a ten foot pole for the time being. I don't even know what's going with that half the time. Wait for the Demiurge analysis.

Coward.