#are any of these fascinating or even abnormal? who knows

[arolesbianism]

Thinks abt my lob corp nuggets oh so hard. I may only have second hand half remembered knowledge of project moon worldbuilding but I will still forever obsess over my lil guys who suck absolute ass

[moonsaver]

Okay, wait, you know what? Yandere Sunday is terrifying.

Not physically. At least not until you push the very hard boundary he's kept.

Its very subtle when he eyes you. Whenever he comes up to you it's just casual conversation, pleasantries, and a few tidbits about some of the main tourist attractions. Nothing out of the ordinary.

He's terrifying in his status, aswell. The most important man on Penacony, almost too many things rest on his shoulders. A distant, fake warm gaze that he seems to put on to politely appease other people. He's well aware it creeps you out when he's talking to you. However, a bit into the conversation and he.. likes it. It's refreshing. Having to constantly read between the lines, find out someone's true intentions, negotiate constantly, and on top of that be polite for the sake of reputation,sharp and pointed words masked behind well-wishes.. it gets tiring. For once, your conversation seems to ease him. His fake smile is slowly taken over by a small, but real one. Oh, dear.. you have to leave? What a shame. You should check out the dreamscape. Him and The Family have worked very hard on it. He's sure you'll like some of the tourist spots he's personally recommended.

The dreamscape is lively and bustling, the wide expanse of it almost bizarre. Careful, or the crowd will sweep you away before you know it! And suddenly there's the Bloodhound family guards that are helping you so graciously, out into a variety of secluded and serene spots,which you remember Sunday having mentioned in the conversation..

And well, there's this feeling. Something's watching you. It's not the giant eyeball with the strange memory sales, unfortunately. And the feeling follows you around everywhere. Even when you were sure you were alone, in some or the other secluded spot. You ponder for a moment if it's just the guards keeping their eyes on a newbie who might cause trouble, but they seem disinterested and not engaged unless necessary. Certainly, even their gazes can't feel this heavy?

Of course, how would you know? Watching you flutter about is apparently a satisfying past time, according to Sunday. A stoic and unchanging face, many things circulating behind his eyes. Your uncomfortable face is.. strangely fascinating to Sunday. Something feels abnormal in the space between his ribs. He loves having you in his sights, the comfort of knowing where you are, what you are constantly doing.. isn't it romantic, too? He's essentially taking care of you. If anyone asks – well.. You're one of his guests, personally invited by The Family to Penacony. It's his responsibility to make sure of your well-being, no?

And oh, dear.. you don't look so well. You haven't been sleeping, have you? Its the first thing Sunday comments on when he sees you at the bar, face in your hands as your sleep-deprived mind makes you dizzy. You do understand it's essential to sleep well, not just to function efficiently, but for your general wellbeing? Its alright, he understands. He can deploy further safety measures if you feel your security is compromised. He hopes, "you do not mind the continuous pestering of the Bloodhound family guards", do you? They'll keep you company in The Reverie, and The Dreamscape, too. A danger to you poses a danger to every guest, please do comply to these.. compromising circumstances, will you?

And, unfortunately for you, reports just came in. Looks like investigation has to be done, and your stay in Penacony has been extended! Don't worry – just talk to him directly, and let him know if you have any problems. Oh? You need to be locked up in your room for a certain part of the investigation? That's a shame. Perhaps he can just finish up his work a bit quickly and keep you company? Hm? Oh, no, dear. He can't just command them to not do that. Oh? No one else seems to be getting investigated? Well.. they're quite important figures, you know! Whole planets need to stop their work for them to have a day off, and besides.. You're probably in more danger than them. Of course.. you wouldn't think being alone with Sunday of all people would have been a safer option, would you?

[sugar-grigri]

Correction: Fake! CSM is the God Devil

WAIT WAIT WAIT and if, going back over this analysis, Fake!CSM or even the famous demon that Yuko and the others had contracted with wasn't an identity or memory demon

This entity would be the demon representing the fear of God? I CAN EXPLAIN! That would explain why this demon has the appearance of Chainsaw Man

As Angel explained, Chainsaw Man is the being who draws the line between death and birth for demons, the sound of chainsaws being what they hear when they are born or die.

As a result, Chainsaw Man had a natural superiority over the other demons, to the point of being feared as a divine power.

Whether it's Beam, who considered himself a follower of Chainsaw Man, or Makima, who was fascinated by him, it's an abnormal relationship between demons and CSM, tinged with veneration and fear.

Chainsaw Man is a divine figure who has also become enshrined among mortals, who see him as a means of fighting against their injustices.

You see where I'm going with this, the demon resulting from the fear of God has ended up taking on the appearance of the saviour and punisher projected by both demons and humans.

This would explain why this demon didn't lie when he called himself a demon of justice, just as it explains Barem's reaction, whom he sees as his saviour, just as it explains Fake!CSM's appearance, and finally, it explains the biblical references made by the impostor.

Which confirms my theory that Fake!CSM is NOT an enemy of Denji - quite the opposite, in fact. He wants the real Chainsaw Man to act, to be feared by demons and worshipped by humans, to once again reinforce the divine aspect of his image.

Denji is the source of Fake!CSM's power, which is why Fami has built a church around his figure to further reinforce this aspect, and why the impostor prefers to speak in Denji's name to make a more religious statement than the real CSM, who couldn't care less about such considerations.

If we were to get to know Denji as he really is, the very nature of a simple teenager would destroy his reputation for being invincible.

That's why Barem and Fami want Denji to join their cause anyway, because Chainsaw Man has to do exactly what they think will strengthen his reputation as a divine being.

If Nostradamus's apocalypse is fulfilled, people will not only fear divine wrath, they'll start praying to Chainsaw Man too!

Fake!CSM is Fami's champion for countering the apocalypse, and she's only interested in making it as powerful as possible.

This also explains why the public hunters want to paralyse Chainsaw Man and prevent him from showing his face, to avoid confirming this growing reputation and veneration. I repeat, when Yoshida said those words it wasn't to help Denji but to express the will of the hunters in any case. The fact that one of them said that it would be simpler if he were a weapon doesn't detract from this. It's simpler for CSM to be a unanimous being who's easy to hide and control than an unpredictable teenager.

The public hunters don't know exactly what's going on, as evidenced by their natural suspicion of Fami, whom they thought was behind this apocalypse, or by their response to the church's intentions in the last chapter. However, they do have their doubts about Fami, the knight of the apocalypse, whom they must know to be the founder of the church, and since the church relies on Chainsaw Man as the guardian of public order, it was safer for him to stop acting and not to go along with the church.

Chainsaw Man is the symbol of the demons' death, which erases their names and dictates their existence, so here's a theory on what will trigger the apocalypse...

It won't be caused by one demon in particular, but by a general revolt of demons such as has already taken place in the underworld to put an end to Chainsaw Man, to this supreme demon.

When the natural death of demons no longer exists, of course, this will mean the victory of demons over humans, as foretold by prophecy.

If this war breaks out, this explains why Fami Yoru believes that the demon of war is the one who will be able to counter this attack of demons.

Let's go back to this prophecy :

The simplest

Mars as god of war is none other than Yoru

But you know what's interesting is that according to all the thinkers analysing Nostradamus, what Nostradamus was actually predicting was not an apocalypse but an eclipse of the sun.

So this allows us to identify the other protagonists: the great King of Terror is none other than the moon that hides the sun, which will soon reappear.

The Great King of Angoulmois is none other than Denji

Overshadowed by Fake!CSM

Now you know why it only works before the sun comes out.

[yan-lorkai]

Can I request a Mother!Reader x Ciel? Like the reader became a shinigami before the fire consumes her (she has knowledge about demons, angels and grim reapers) so that she can still see and protect her son alongside Sebastian.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ The occult fascinated you when you were younger and although this type of knowledge was highly frowned upon by the society you lived in, you were always the type of person who did what you wanted. You spent hours studying and reading everything you could about demons, their classifications and rankings, their names and positions, you also learned about Shinigami and angels. At that time all of this was just to satisfy your curiosity about the beings on the other side that all humans feared so much.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ During your life you have met many of these beings, some by coincidence, others through rituals or things like that. The occult followed you into adulthood, but you let it all go when you married Vincent. You didn't want supernatural beings to continue to follow and seek you when you intended to build a family with your husband, so no longer did you spend afternoons studying and talking with other occultists, living peacefully for several years until tragedy struck you and your little family.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ The passage of time for you became blurred as your soul was collected by the shinigami and, instead of being laid to rest as is done with all others, someone turned you into a shinigami. You couldn't say who specifically since you had no friends among them nor did you know why anyone would risk their reputation for you but you were grateful for being alive again.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ By all means, your "rebirth" is abnormal and strange and if the other shinigami realize what an anomaly you are then they will hunt you down and eliminate you, so for a while you are left wandering in isolated places, brooding in guilt and grief. You've just lost your entire family and your humanity, that's a lot of information to process at once, however, your world turns upside down again when you discover that your eldest son is alive.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ As any good mother would you return home, a bundle of nerves and anxiety as your fist slams against the door and you find yourself face to face with a supernatural being. You know Sebastian as soon as you see him, your heart pounding inside your chest as you swallow hard. It seems that like you, Ciel ventured into the occult more than he should have. You return home, but everything is so different, so sad and cold, the place where the family photo once stood is now empty - a painful reminder of everything that had happened.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ciel's reactions when he sees you are diverse, every quiver of his lips, every erratic breath and the barely contained tears in his eyes, you can see everything. And even if he doesn't immediately hug you in front of his demon pet so as not to show weakness, you hold him in your arms. At least you still have each other. Each other until the contract is finalized, you remember with regret, knowing that there is nothing stopping Sebastian from getting what is owed to him in the end.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ However, you again find yourself with your books. Reading each one almost obsessively to learn how to break a contract or how to kill a demon - if Sebastian knows what you're doing, he hasn't done anything to stop you or told your son yet.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Whether you find a way to break the contract or not, you and Sebastian fiercely protect Ciel from any and all threats that may come his way. It's tiring having to predict assassination attempts, poisoning or kidnapping, but with the strength and knowledge you now have, everything is easier. Holding your death scythe feels so right in your hands, as if it were custom-made, capable of cutting through almost anything.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ There is still distrust in you about everyone around you, about any imminent danger and on nights when you find yourself tossing from one side to the other in bed, you stand at the door of Ciel's room, listening his breathing heavily and snoring. Hearing him being alive. On these nights it is common for Sebastian to find you and stay by your side, talking, exchanging experiences, although he doesn't really like reapers he seems to tolerate you if only because you are the mother of his contractor.

[cherry-pop-elf]

BAKING WITH THE WEASLEY SIBLINGS

William ‘Bill’

Since he is the eldest, he had to do a lot of cooking with his parents. He was a victim of ‘third parent’ syndrome. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t find comfort in baking. It still fills a void in his heart when cooking and baking. His favorite thing to make, with you, is something he learned in Egypt. Baklava. It’s super airy, and the right amount of sweet. Given being partially turned has made his senses heighten, it makes for a good treat to share with you and his siblings. It’s nice to do normal things, when your life is so abnormal. He also learned to make some mean meat pies. Just know not to ask a slice on the full moon. That shit is raw. Thats what you get for dating a curse breaking werewolf. Eh. More protein never hurts in a diet, most of the time

Charlie

As the second oldest, he also had to do a lot of baking as well. There is also the fact that being a Dragonologist has left him fending for himself in the wild. So he’s had to get pretty creative if he wants something sweet. Hey. He’s a Weasley. They are famous for being creative. A treat he enjoys is Romanian Dessert Salami. Though, often times he uses the term liberally and often makes a rather fruity bread roll instead. Gotta use what ya got! Also, hope you are prepared to see him using his wand a lot for cooking. Don’t have much when chasing dragons. It is rather fascinating to learn how to make desserts from so little. Your little adventure man

Percy

Being the third child, you would think he wouldn’t be as responsible as his older siblings. You are wrong. The moment the two older brothers were out the door, it was his turn. Desserts were never a passion of his, so he’s not the best at it. But he won’t deny the fact he can make a mean pie. It’s a secret talent he has. You can count on him to make any pie your heart desires. He won’t say it out loud, but making pies is very therapeutic to him. He has a pie for each sibling even. Bill is meat, Charlie is mixed berries, Fred is Chocolate while George is Peanut butter, Ron is Pumpkin, and Ginny is Peach. Him? …..What was your favorite type of pie again~?

Fred

Fred isn’t really much of a baker. He’s more of the cooking type. You are better off seeing him make breakfast, despite being a night owl, compared to making any desserts. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t find his loopholes. Like how Percy is great with pies, Fred is amazing with Bread. Fred Bread! As proxy, he has his siblings favorite bread types memorized. Bill likes dark chocolate types, Charlie likes anything with berries, Percy is rather boring with banana, he loves grape while George will like orange, Ron likes hers with some pumpkin, and Ginny is the cinnamon type. Expect plenty of fresh bread with him. He’s got you covered

George

He IS the baker in the family. Who do you think brought up the idea of selling bake goods at WWW? He can, and will, bake ANYTHING! He has everyone’s favorite treats memorized. He is constantly handing out free samples to kids. He WILL find an excuse to bake. You want cookies? Hot and fresh from the oven. It’s three am and you want a cake? It’s now four am and you got a cake. He IS the baker. He loves to bake so much, and is always making sure the shop has fresh supply. If you can’t ever find him anywhere, follow your nose to the kitchen. He’s got something in the works. For someone!

Ron

Like Fred, he’s not really a baker. He’s a cooker. Doesn’t mean he can’t make a dessert if he has to. He’s become pretty good at making tarts, custards, and puddings. Very much comfort food. Something he picked up again when going to school with Harry. Given, ya know, the Dursleys. He won’t lie, it was also a cheap way to flirt with Hermione without breaking his wallet. Funny thing is she was never one for such desserts. Now she can’t get enough. He makes those comfort foods with a lot of heart, and is willing to make them if you have a bad day. He does get a bit anxious when cooking around other people, but he warms up eventually.

Ginny

Like Fred and Ron, she doesn’t really bake either. She was the baby of the family, after all. She does, however, like to make cookies for her team. There is something so nice about having a warm cookie after a cold rainy day of Quidditch practice. Helps that you convinced her to pick up the habit again. She likes to make cookies with fruit in them. To try and have them on the healthier side, given she’s an athlete. So a tart cookie is a good cookie to her. It’s simple, basic, and quick, but nothing wrong with that. A quickly made cookie, with love, is better than a drawn out dessert of labor. It’s also easy to blame her love of fruity desserts on Charlie. She’s the baby girl in an army of boys. She picked up some habits

[shyguygubbs]

I was thinking about kotlc recently and how the Black Swan originally wanted to wait to bring Sophie into the Lost Cities until way later, probably when she turned 18, and how different of a person Sophie would have been if that were the case.

Like at the start of the series, she's this child prodigy who has to go to community college in the fall at the age of 12 because her parents won't let her go to Yale (a totally valid parental choice btw), and the thing is I think she would have THRIVED in that environment. Like at first she would be scared and hesitant because in all other school environments she has been bullied for being as smart as she is, but now she's going into a school that people choose to go to in order to learn. Community college doesn't just have mean, jealous teenagers who attend, there are people of all ages and all walks of life who are ready to learn. Sure, Sophie would still be the youngest one there, and I doubt it would be super easy with the whole mind reading thing, but she would be in a much more supportive environment when it comes to learning than anything else she's experienced.

She'd be able to make friends with her peers, being able to bond over a shared love of whatever they're studying, and these friends don't think she's too smart or too weird. She maybe finds some way to muffle the voices in her head better than her earplugs did. Yeah, she still gets headaches, but she can manage it. I can see her taking as many classes as she can, figuring out her passions and what she might want to do as a career. She'd be in a fantastic place academically to transfer to any school she wants when she turns 18. I can even see her parents letting her graduate when she's 17 and allowing her to transfer to a four year college to get a bachelor's in whatever she wants to study, whatever she finds her passion for, because she worked hard for this, and doesn't hate school now, and has found a path for herself in life that feels right.

And then the Black Swan shows up and whisks her away from all of that, and she's heartbroken because she doesn't need to be taken away from everything she's worked so hard for. Yeah it feels nice to finally have the whole mind reading question answered, but she doesn't need a new place to belong, she has one. I imagine this Sophie being a lot more confident in herself, but a lot angrier too. She's fascinated by her new world, but desperately wants to go back home, to just live out the life she's been working towards. I can see her working side by side with the Black Swan from the jump, because she's in a world with injustice and she can't just sit back and let this slide, but constantly fighting back this resentment for them and how they took everything from her. I think of how canon Sophie had a brief moment of hesitation when it came to training her Telepathy, and I think this older Sophie would be conflicted between wanting to know more about this abnormality that she's been dealing with her whole life, and wanting to cling to her human identity and her old life as much as she possibly can. Because she's been ripped away from it, and no matter what her genetics say, this Sophie still views herself as human.

[sarcki]

“even Demons of dreams have nightmares” -a small Fic from my “red strings and starlights” billford Au

Stanford woke up in the middle of the night, which isn’t too abnormal for him, the absence of a Comforting warmth and soft glow on his chest however was.

Getting up without his triangle shaped husband chastising him about getting his beauty sleep was odd… as funny as that sounds.

‘where the hell is he?’ Ford thought to himself, although hopefully bill would hear it and come back to bed.

‘it better not be dead rats again…’ Stanford made his way downstairs and was about to head into the kitchen, maybe Bill remembered he could eat and decided to raid the cupboards again. When he noticed a light coming from the living room.

“Oh no…” was the first thing he thought? Said? It didn’t matter, It’s not like Bill would hear him either way.

The TV static would make sure of that.

Bill was in his human form, unusual since they were in the house alone, he also had one of Mabel’s old baby dolls in his arms. tears were running from his face from where his eyes would be if he had any, Stanfords scientific mind would be fascinated by that if he wasn’t so concerned for his partner.

“Bill…” he said stepping in front of the TV

“Bill, it’s okay, she’s okay now, you didn’t mean it…” ford turned off the TV but bill was still in it deep. How a face with no eyes could stare right through him, he didn’t know, but nothing was above Bill (pines) Cipher.

“…mom…i wanna go home, I want my mama…” oh Axolotl please, ford was about as good at dealing with emotions as bill, which is to say he wasn’t.

“I know bill, but she’s gone… this is your home now, you’re home.”

“…home?” Bill cradled the baby doll tighter to his chest. that baby doll might as well have been fords heart because it felt as if it was in the same predicament, strangled by ciphers sorrows. Bill had confessed a lot to Ford that he would no one else, like how he was a mama’s boy, how be wanted to be just like her, how he… tried to show her the stars… without a space suit so to speak…

Accidentally killing the one person who truly loved you unconditionally when trying to show them something precious to you, ford was honestly impressed cipher was as stable as he was. …he couldn’t imagine, selfishly he also didn’t want to, even if it would help him understand his husband better.

So he just… hugged… hugged bill until sunrise because that’s all he could do, he couldn’t bring back Euclydia, he couldn’t bring back Euclid and Scalene, he couldn’t even hunt down the monster that killed them like he once promised because… bill was that monster. He couldn’t even be good emotional support… but, he could at least try and be a good husband

“Yeah bill, home…”

[junkdyke]

I fucking hate watching a video of a black person doing their natural hair, showing some tips, how they achieve a style, etc and seeing that the top comment is "As a white, bald man, I don't know why i'm here but i watched the whole thing!😂" or "I'm white with bone straight hair, how did I end up here?" like my god, white people are so self-absorbed but in a much deeper way than I think they even fucking realize. Obviously, surface level it's already shitty, you see a video of a black person, and you feel the need to announce that your white ass is in the vicinity. "Let me make this about ME" cause we can't have shit even in our spaces, you gotta let us know so we can look at you too.

But beyond that, it's actually really fucking weird and gross that ya'll are incapable of just seeing us as people, doing our thing, and taking that in as a normal thing alongside you in the world we live in. You see a black person styling an afro, and it is so outside of your normal, that you feel the need to point us out as an Other. It's not just that you can't relate, we're a spectacle. "Aha, isn't it funny that i'm here watching this negro pick out their hair?" maybe if you saw black people as any other person that is of equal to you in your world, you wouldn't see it as something so weird and bizarre for you to see. It's dehumanizing that you think you're such a Default Setting that when a minority ends up on your feed, it's so noteworthy it fills you with awe. And it's literally just a nigga combing their hair! Meanwhile, I know for myself and hella other black kids who grew up alternative, we were watching countless hair dying videos from young white girls, and at no point was it some mystical, abnormal sight. It just was what it was, some person doing their hair that we'd get the tips from. Ya'll just make me ill fr, there is no reason that on a black hair video, all the top comments are white people letting us know they're watching. We know ya'll have a weird fascination with our hair that you feel a need to point out, why the fuck do you think "don't touch my hair" has become a worldwide phrase from us, can you start seeing us as human, actually maybe. Humans that share the same planet as you do, not just the poor side characters you pretend to care about when it's trendy and otherwise pretend we don't exist in the same way as you do.

[vickyvicarious]

Okay, so this is one of several (I believe?) timeline errors in Seward's accounts. It happens in a few other places but I think nowhere so egregiously as here, with a week of time added in since yesterday's date. I recall that last year there were theories about Dracula affecting Seward's mind in some way, similar to how he affects Renfield and Lucy. While those can be fun to play around with, I'm certain the 'official' explanation is simply that Stoker got mixed up on his timeline and failed to notice that he'd added a week between the 19th and 20th.

All that's backstory though. Because it has only been a day for us, it's perhaps easier to miss, but if we assume the timeline mentioned in the actual text of the entry is what Stoker was envisioning, then... Renfield has seemingly been chained to a wall and in a straightjacket for a week straight:

For the first week after his attack he was perpetually violent. Then one night, just as the moon rose, he grew quiet, and kept murmuring to himself: "Now I can wait; now I can wait." The attendant came to tell me, so I ran down at once to have a look at him. He was still in the strait-waistcoat and in the padded room, but the suffused look had gone from his face, and his eyes had something of their old pleading—I might almost say, "cringing"—softness. I was satisfied with his present condition, and directed him to be relieved.

That's... I didn't really put it together last year, too caught up in the actual dates we're given, but. That's horrifying.

I love the delivery of Renfield's "now I can wait." But something about the amount of time it took makes it so creepy and so sad. He's been raging and fighting for a week, and it's only now when he can finally calm himself enough to go back to his more strategically placating approach towards his captors. (And it seems the moon has prompted this change within him... more thoughts on that later.) Indeed, only when he does so does he regain any semblance of his former freedom.

"They think I could hurt you! Fancy me hurting you! The fools!" It was soothing, somehow, to the feelings to find myself dissociated even in the mind of this poor madman from the others; but all the same I do not follow his thought. Am I to take it that I have anything in common with him, so that we are, as it were, to stand together; or has he to gain from me some good so stupendous that my well-being is needful to him? I must find out later on. To-night he will not speak.

I think this passage proves how Seward's view of Renfield is very tied to his own personal feelings, and is thus anything but professional and objective. In the past, he's been overly indulgent of Renfield when he wants to discover a new madness that he can put his name to, and has even been tempted to go further; in his previous entry he felt hurt by Renfield ignoring him and then escaping, and lashed out with dismissive assumptions of delusions he must be having, and locked him up/restrained him. Apparently, kept him restrained until he resumed his former more placating behavior. Seward is fascinated by Renfield partially out of ambition, and partially out of this idea that they have some kind of bond or he has some unique understanding of Renfield.

And yet that idea upsets him too. He knows that he himself is abnormal in some way, perhaps is very conscious of or worried about this fact, and kind of scoffs at/dismisses the idea that Renfield might view him as someone who is on the same 'side' or understands his perspective. It sort of feels like Seward wants Renfield to be open with him and confide in him but only in a respectful way that acknowledges him as mentally/status-wise superior. If Renfield treats him as equal to the attendants, that is failing to acknowledge his superior status and intellect and training. If Renfield treats him as an ally opposed to the attendants, then that implies the two of them are of equal status and that Seward's being viewed as mentally on a level (and thus mad at least to an extent) rather than superior. Even as it partially soothes his hurt feelings the idea kind of upsets him, and he kind of scoffs at it.

The last possibility he brings up is that Renfield is using him. But Seward tests that right away and it doesn't seem to go anywhere yet: the cats that previously were Renfield's greatest desire today do not interest him in the least. I keep feeling like there's a weird balance of Seward being very willing to see Renfield as very calculative and secretly harboring murderous plans, but at the same time not having much ability to recognize when he himself is being manipulated by Renfield. Like this pleading/cringing behavior. On the one hand he has definitely noticed it is a deliberate action in the past, but at the same time he seems to consider it an indication that Renfield can be 'managed' again and set loose from his padded cell/restraints. (Not that I think releasing him is a bad idea, but it is an interesting disconnect from how Seward has kind of looked at it in the past, I guess?) Seward often notices when Renfield is trying to get something from him but doesn't necessarily refuse it, or still lets his own emotions/ambitions influence his response. I feel like it comes down to a lot of ableism in his faith that he is smarter/more able to see through and manage Renfield, and thus can afford to sometimes indulge Renfield's efforts to use him. Meanwhile I feel like Renfield has deliberately played into that at least sometimes in order to get his own way, and Seward doesn't recognize how clever he actually is.

Happy thought! We shall to-night play sane wits against mad ones. He escaped before without our help; to-night he shall escape with it. We shall give him a chance, and have the men ready to follow in case they are required….

I love the way he pauses and then says "happy thought!" He truly is just having a sudden idea, and his curiosity is overwhelming his ethics/common sense here. Honestly, in this entry? It reminds me a lot of Dracula once again. I can easily see Dracula thinking this to himself with a few minor changes.

Perhaps on May 15th, before reminding/taunting Jonathan never to sleep outside his own rooms. Or even better, on June 29th when Jonathan asks to leave right then and he gets his wolf idea:

Happy thought! I shall to-night play predator nerves against prey ones. He tried to escape before without my help; to-night he shall have the chance to escape with it. I shall show him the door, and have the wolves ready outside in case they are required….

...look, I'm just saying, Seward is super creepy this entry.

[akwolfgrl]

LFT PART 40

Nami was walking through the town, a huge sack of clothes tossed over her shoulder, Usopp with his own sack walked beside her. Nami could feel a shift in the air around her, she was fascinated with the shift in weather patterns, which at first had been necessary for navigation and had become something of a hobby.

“Hey Usopp, we need to head back to the ship right now.”

“Huh? How come I thought you wanted to look around more? Maybe stop for lunch,” Usopp asked, confused.

“The air pressure is dropping rapidly at a rather abnormal rate, there is a Storm coming and fast, unless you and your bag of goodies want to get soaked,” Nami pointed out, changing direction towards the pier.

“All right you have a good point,” Usopp followed behind her. “Hey look, it's Sanji and Zoro, hey guys!” Usopp called out, waving in their direction. Nami stopped walking and they all gathered together. Zoro had the same shirt on from last night and two new swords, where he got the money is what Nami wanted to know. Sanji on the other hand was wearing a bright colored fish shirt that she had made him buy yesterday, he also had a few shopping bags on his arm and his other was linked with Zoro's. The date must have gone well.

“Nami-swan and Usopp, funny running into you two here,” Sanji called out to them.

“Anyone know where Luffy is?” Zoro asked not to bother with any greetings. Although he did have a point, they should find their captain.

“Is he still looking for the platform?” Usopp asked from beside her. “I believe it's right here in Town Square.”

“Shit, I think he found it,” Sanji pointed out. There was Luffy atop the executioner's platform, a large piece of wood with a hole on top with his head and hands secured, a man sitting atop of it with Buggy the annoying clown next to him. It felt like ages ago that she had stolen from him, and met Luffy and Zoro.

“Why is he on the platform about to be executed?!” Nami wasn't wasn't sure who said it or if it was everyone.

“Sanji give me your bags so you and Zoro can go save our captain, meet you back at the ship,” Nami offered, holding out her hand. “No argument, just give it here,” She told him as he opened his mouth to protest. He reluctantly handed over before following after Zoro who had already taken off. She turned around and began to head towards the docks where she was originally intending to go.

“Um Nami, shouldn't we try to help them save Luffy?” Usopp asked, walking beside her.

“Usopp what would we do that they can't do? Do you really think you can get a good shot with all those people running around? Beside Buggy the clown has a devil fruit,” Nami shook her head pointing out the facts. She didn't have her staff on her, she had come here to shop not to fight.

“Hey! I'll have you know I took down a fishmen all by myself and proved myself to Daddy the parent!” Usopp argued with her, he was lucky he was her gossip buddy and that her hands were full. “We could provide back up at least,” He must still be riding the high of serving his duel.

“Well even if that's the case we have a more important task,” her voice was sharp as ever almost as if it was the crack of lightning.

“like what?”

“Like the Storm I mentioned earlier, the air pressure and temperature have been dropping rapidly for the past while. Plus I saw cumulus clouds heading from the east. That's a sure sign of a Storm rolling in, a big one to boot. What with the ruckus going on in town Square the marines are bound to be out, I really don't want to run into Captain Smoker I've heard terrible things about him,” The lady who owned the boutique she had visited had told her all about the new captain with a devil fruit who had put this town on lockdown, there haven't been any pirates making it out of here. Their business had been surfing from his influence. “What would we do if Merry was washed away when we needed a quick get away? This way we can get her ready to sail away as soon as those three make it back,” She was just glad Sanji was there, she didn't trust Luffy and Zoro to make it back in one piece.

“Holy crap you're right! That absolutely more important Sanji and Zoro will be fine on their own!” Usopp rushed ahead of her. Lucky bastard only had one bag to carry and it had straps.

“Hey wait for me!”

[tenjiiku]

21 : only

The chime of the shop rings with prominence. You already know who it is without lifting your gaze from your newspaper.

“Darling, love of my life, fire of my heart,” The man sings — an annoying, sickly sweet tone — his volume increasing as he glides his way to the front reception desk, “The machine is broken again.”

You cough, adjusting your newspaper. He is so abnormally tall his hair is all you can see from your periphery. Why he presents himself in such a way you never want to know.

“Then go to another laundromat,” you murmur quickly. You have grown accustomed to dismissing his outlandish behaviour. It is a second instinct at this point.

“Nah. I wouldn’t receive such service anywhere else — you are special, you know? One of a kind.”

You choke a little at his hoax of his compliment, “You make me sick.”

A large hand puts your newspaper down. You allow it, only because you wanted this interaction to end. Even seated on a swivel chair, elevated to its highest position, you have to crane your head a little to meet him in the eye. You see yourself in the reflection of the dark glasses he cunningly chooses to wear inside.

When you scowl he returns it with a cheshire grin.

“Thank you. You’re too sweet.”

“What do you want, Satoru?” You do not use his last name or any honorific to address him despite his age. He was older than you by a few years — but certainly did not act the part — so you do not think he deserves your respect. Your host father told you he does — something about his being from a prominent private school as an educator, which you cannot possibly fathom being the truth. But only in front of you is Satoru Gojo an inane, odd man with a need for clean, dry-cleaned clothes that, for some strange reason he has conjectured in his equally baffling mind, only you can provide.

“You.”

The wrinkle that had formed between your brows drops in less than a second. This was the typical routine. You would get annoyed — and he would get a sick kick from that. You refused to be his entertainment, so, for once you decide to be the bigger person.

“My friend is a police officer. He is five minutes away,” you retort, not being the bigger person. Though actions did speak louder than words.

Satoru places his elbow on the desk. He has to bend his back in an uncomfortable manner to do so — and he leans his face on his palm which only makes the position and his stature appear more cretinous and acute.

“You’re pretty when you’re angry, do you know?”

“Go die.” (You are being a bigger person today only through your actions. Not your words, you quickly decide.)

“Can you let me buy you a coffee? Put me out of my misery?”

“Leave me alone. I will scream for A-chan.” (Your dog, sleeping peacefully somewhere in a corner near the dryers.)

“Awh,” he coos, tilting his head only more. You wonder if he has back problems. “That’s vulgar. I thought you were a good girl.”

At this, you flounder. Fisting your hands together, you rub at your forehead. Satoru possessed the putrid ability to irk you like no other. You look down at your textbook — you were on chapter five, studying deadlock before he came — and it was certainly fitting given his arrival.

“I am. For people I can tolerate.” You retort, monotone to not please his sadism.

He smiles anyways and leans forward, gazing towards where you look — a few sheets of loose-leaf paper with your begrimed writing. You can catch a glimpse of his azure coloured eyes through his lashes from this angle. At first they scared you. It was an utter oddity to you — you had seen nothing as strange from all your years tending to this run-down laundromat. People who came and went were not as nearly as fascinating as Satoru Gojo’s eye colour, unfortunately, but that was not to say they were not as interesting. Odd characters entered every now and then considering your laundromat being less than 5 metres away from a graveyard — which only begged the existence of Satoru all together.

Perhaps he was visiting someone every time he came. You liked to make stories of customers who you would encounter. That was Satoru’s because you could not think of anything else.

You never asked, he never said. This was how it went.

“What’s all this?” He questions, his tone softer than usual. You feel his eyes travel to your right shoulder, making you self-conscious.

For a second you think he knows of the pain you have been feeling there.

You shake your head of the plausibility.

“Homework,” you reply, curt and straight, adjusting your posture in your seat as a sudden wave of bashfulness has overcome you.

“For what?”

“My operating systems class.”

Satoru coos — treating you like you are some sort of stray cat when he is the one encroaching on your property. “Sounds hard. You’re real smart, then?”

You look up, mouth falling into a line as you mumble a small, “Yeah.”

You want this conversation to come to an end. But Satoru liked to season his prey and you were not an exception. You remember encountering one of his students once — you think their name was Megumi — who had told you to steer clear of Satoru if you wanted your sanity to remain intact. It was solid advice, the only possibility it did not cover was Satoru forcing himself in front of you no matter what turn you took.

“You have to give me something to work with here,” he moans dramatically.

You take some money from the tip jar and hold it out in front of him as an incentive.

“I’ll pay you ¥800 to leave me alone?”

Satoru takes the money, but he doesn’t leave.

“You’re a tough one, aren’t you?” He sneers at you. You crack your shoulders and decide to get started on the problem at hand because at this rate you will never finish your homework.

Walking towards the washers, you start speaking, not looking behind you to see if he is following because you already know he is.

“I don’t have time for this. Which machine isn’t operating?”

For once in his life, maybe out of the glory that overcame him from getting the upper hand on you once again, he complies.

“Third washer on the left, near the door.”

You walk towards it. Satoru stands next to you. His clothes float in a puddle that has formed within the washer — a drainage problem. Taking his clothes out of it, you rinse the soaked water in the sink and place them in another washer. If he chose to use half his brain he could have solved this himself. But after observing his smiles from your periphery and through the reflection of the glass door you come to realize he is enjoying himself.

An hour comes and go. Satoru talks your ear off at the reception even as others come and go. He puts his wet clothes in the dryer and folds them when they are finished, into a duffel bag.

When he stands in front of you, silent for the first time since his arrival, you know he is about to leave. You always give him a nice goodbye.

“Time for your weekly departure? Please do not bring clothes stained with blood to be dry cleaned next time. Mother almost fainted last week and is growing suspicious.”

Satoru smiles at you which lets you know that he understands your joke. He is handsome but he is nothing of your world, you realize. He only ever exists within the four wall of your parent’s laundromat and will only ever smell of floral detergent. It was better this way, you think.

“Awh. You’re worried for me?”

Your lips lay flat and you look down at your textbook.

“Have a nice day as well,” he murmurs, low. It catches you by surprise. When you lift your head up, he is already gone.

The pain on your right shoulder has stopped when the chime of the door opening and closing rings.

You pretend to ignore it — the feeling of his eyes and the growing aches surfacing within you — and go back to studying.

.

Satoru waits five minutes after he has left you to acknowledge his student following him. He stops near the abandoned phone booth he had found you sulking in two weeks prior — curled up with your legs tucked to your chest — pondering on about nonsensical things.

It was not the worst of the side effects you possessed after leaving your clan years ago and starting a new life with the Kobayashi’s at their laundromat.

“Megumi-chan, care to join me?”

He smiles when he sees his student scowl at him and he only continues to walk as he catches up.

“Why do you insist on pestering her? You know she will never remember. Yaga-san will be mad,” his student asserts after meeting his shoulders

Satoru does not answer right away. He recalls a fragment of a memory from his childhood. He had been doted on since his birth. You were a refreshing rarity, always hoping for a life greater than the one you were subjugated to — the daughter of a lowly maid, a normal girl for all purposes yet never treated as such. He remembers a small conversation you shared for less than a minute when he was only eight years old and you were five — how one day you wanted to be able to go to Hokkaido for the ice sculpture festival during the Winter. It was such a naive thing to aspire for. A cruel irony, really, that you still remained the same after so many years.

A snowflake falls towards Satoru’s shoe, but never quite graces its body.

Slinging an arm around his student, he answers brazenly, “I don’t know. I suppose I’m bored these days. Entertain me.”

[isaaujulii]

WHY GOD WHY COULDN’T THEY TREAT ALL THEIR CHARACTERS WITH RESPECT. The source material is endlessly fascinating and riddled with interesting storylines that can be followed and or improved upon(within reason) . Like you have the knight without honor whose only true light is a queen who he can never have. A woman whose life is tied to the men around her, which is her circumstance but she does nothing to try to help or ruin them but laments her part in everything. And i’m not saying the story can’t be built upon the relationship between rhaenyra and alicent.

It’s a great place to start. START. It can’t be just about them. Why don’t we see Jaeharys and the pressure he feels as a bastard and a possible future king. What about halaenas mental state her visions, and the fact she lost a whole child. And how come all of a sudden Aemond is kinslaying psychopath whose only goal is to become king, is there no internal conflict. Where’s that remorse and horror we saw at the end of season 1. Aegon is being made fun of every second and being ignored (and before u come at me i know he is a pos rapist, not defending him) nobody sees him as a threat even though he is QUITE LITERALLY THE KING.

Alicent is on her sad girl bs. And I LIKE ALICENT. Do you know how hard it is to make me dislike a character I originally loved. I thought her character was heading into an interesting direction feeling guilt and remorse about her actions because it is against everything she believes in. Because AGAIN they have hammered into the viewers that she is a religious. But she just becomes whishy washy. And not an active participant.

And don’t get me started on our titular protagonist a one Rhaneyra Targaryen. Have I mentioned my dislike at the obvious bias towards team black. Also why are there teams why is everything black and white. I don’t know about yall but I thought the whole point was there is no good and evil and that killing your family for a crown is wrong and morally unjust so therefore anyone participating in the war (as in anyone who has a choice, not the small folk forced to fight and stuff) is already not the greatest person. So i don’t know why they are acting like Rhaneyra is the goddamn messiah. They’re trying to make her a Daenerys variant. She’s not Dany and she shouldn’t be forced to be. Like their trying to make her a reasonable person who only wants best for people around her but she is also someone actively participating in a war with DRAGONS and as everyone keeps repeating there isn’t a war as bloody as one with dragons. And look i love a little hypocrisy in my characters i eat it up but this is ridiculous. You want a war so be in it. And if you don’t want to work with some people tough shit, you need others to get things done. And god forbid they challenge you on anything.

And look I tried to ignore it as much as i could but, do they hate men. Like genuinely asking, because every man in this show with the exception of like 2 characters is immensely unlikeable. And i’m not saying you can’t have unlikeable men. But like it’s a bit of a pattern. The women are the ones trying to avoid war and the men are all gung ho to lose their lives. Like i think they were trying to be feminist by making the women the only reasonable ones and men unreasonable. But they were so feminist that it came around to being misogynistic. Which i didn’t think could happen. And this being pseudo medieval time period with misogyny and all that it seems like there are parts where they are just like forcing patriarchy and other parts it does not seem to exist. Like equality is the norm and patriarchy is the outlier. Like there were women in charge of houses, which is not abnormal in of itself but like they don’t explain it. Like they could’ve been like the lord of that house is ill and his lady-wife takes care of everything. Or been like she’s in the fighting because she has a talent for it and is a bastard. Like I don’t know if any of you have seen the show Black Sails but one of the characters Eleanor basically runs pirate island and that doesn’t make sense because it the 1700’s but it’s explained that her father put her in charge because she was raised there and had a mind for business. And I know it’s a sad thing to be like a woman can only have power in proximity to a man. But like aren’t they going for realism, that’s what was so intriguing about the game of thrones universe. How people given shit circumstances rise above them. And some of these people happen to be women. If this was like one of those comfy fantasy with like fantasy creatures and like loose plots and there aren’t really rules and modern sensibilities are ingrained then I could dig it. Like yah you go girl be a pirate and you be a merchant and you are an advisor to the king. abut this isn’t that. And I can already see how an argument can be made that the entire show is overcoming the circumstances of your birthright being taken because you are a woman. Which I will reply that like I said earlier in order to do that they need the women to have agency and push for it or let it go. Which is options that Rhaneyra has.

And maybe i’m wrong and all those loose plot threads and bizarre character choices will payoff in season 3 and i’ll be the weirdo who doubted them.

[crepes-suzette-373]

I once wondered if there's an "evil version of tsundere", and I just finally remembered that there are. It's called tsungire or yangire. Basically it's like tsundere and yandere, but without any visible "affectionate" (dere-dere) moments.

Like, I usually say "tsundere" here because it's what people know more, and I haven't found the correct term yet before, but I think yangire/tsungire are more appropriate terms.

Well, you can argue that the "dere" is sort of there in the anime, but it's not really there in the manga.

The tsungire and yangire are typically just cranky/crazy by default, but they might sometimes have a target of obsession. Sometimes, there's even a very very very lowkey "dere" feelings for that target. Doesn't have to be romantic, but it's things like caring, affection, concern, companionship, etc.

If/when they do, they don't make an obvious show or talk about it. Outwardly it's just a constant stream of barbed wire, and if the dere is actually there, it's kind of hard to filter out from all the violence/insults (according to Pixiv anyway).

That's it. That's what Niji is doing. He's really like a feral alien who doesn't know how human behaviour works and even if he's being nasty it's fascinating to look at.

This here is probably the yangire:

And then it feels more like tsungire here:

(basically that whole part of Germa returning to cover for the Straw Hats' escape, starting from him taking the initiative to ask about the Straw Hats on the phone)

More serious analysis (sort of) below.

Niji acting like this to Sanji is about the same like Law insisting he doesn't like Germa in the comics, but rambles on and on and on about them to the point that the fandom for the most part just agree that "He totally is a Germa fanboy".

I wrote this post about why I think the brothers actually all wants to get along with Sanji, they just have a very terrible perception of what is "normal" and what to do when something is "not normal".

And see, my read of why Niji in particular is so fixated on Sanji is this:

Until proven otherwise, I think this means they had to re-train Niji to also take over Stealth duties because there will be nobody to wear the Stealth suit. And I think Stealth Black missing is what's making Niji so crazy about this.

Not necessarily because he hates doing stealth, but for some people, the awareness that "something is supposed to be here, but isn't" is very aggravating. Even if they don't actively interact with or particularly need "the thing", just knowing that it's not there makes them abnormally hyperfixate on the "thing" instead.

In this case the "thing" is a "someone", but the point is the same.

For whatever reason, there is this "shadow" of the Number 3 space that is constantly present in Germa. The number 3 raid suit exist. There is the number 3 chair ready for Sanji somehow. It's like they can't ever forget that "number 3 should be here, but is gone" no matter what they do.

And because Niji is probably the one affected the most, both because of his personality and the practicality of how things work, he is the one that lashes out the worst.

He doesn't like that Sanji isn't there. When Sanji's there, he's behaving "wrong" and that makes Niji mad.

(Plus, the alternate take on the Stealth technique is that it actually has nothing to do with Stealth, but he himself called it that because he's just so fixated on "Stealth Black" missing, which is kind of even worse)

Also:

Once again, now that we know Sanji can do this, I desperately want to see him and Niji both do that vanishing act to an enemy and just kick that enemy to oblivion.

[sugar-grigri]

Have you seen Fami's right ear ? Because I haven't.

The game of interpretation in reverse, or focusing on what seems to be avoided by the chapter, not shown, works! and even if it doesn't work, it's still fun and leads to wild theories, which I love to imagine. And this post is no exception to that rule.

We had chapter 155 where we interpreted backwards to find answers to Denji and Nayuta's existential crises.

We also interpreted backwards to better understand the inconsistencies in Yoshida's behavior and the implications for chapter 156.

In my opinion, chapter 157 is no exception to this rule. Focusing on what the author refuses to show in order to find the answers fits in well with a mangaka fascinated by cinema.

Not convinced? Chapter 156 ended on Asa's legs, like a superhero ready to take on the big bad alone. The next chapter directly contradicts what it had already demonstrated. But why? Because you shouldn't trust either the author or the way the characters present themselves to you. That's what this whole chapter is about.

What matters to you may not necessarily matter to the characters. Our focus on the first page would be on Asa's missing arm. Yet she brushes it aside, as if she were dismissing our concerns with a wave of the hand: what's important to her, strangely enough, is wearing her uniform!

Which raises another question... have you seen much of Asa without her uniform? Yes, we've seen her without it, but more often than not, it's her fetish outfit for readers.

I could tell you that, once again, this is to emphasize the fact that we don't have the same temporality on the characters, and that Fujimoto insists more and more on what he refuses to show, but I'll be accused of over-interpreting, so let's carry on.

Fami's statement that appearing to be a high-school student is the best cover for me immediately brings to mind a specific public hunter, who also appears always dressed in his uniform! But people will tell me that I'm being too defensive of this character, so.... Let's continue even further

Asa manages to turn the guns on those who were going to shoot them, all by imagining that she had been able to redeem them.

It's precisely because she's disconnected from reality that she's able to create the illusion that her power works

And I repeat: disconnecting from the events we see in Chainsaw Man helps us too.

Asa is able to create weapons without even needing to touch them, i.e. to touch the concrete, the agent who watches over them is right to recognize her but wrong in believing she's there to help the church members in the basement, when in fact she's there for Chainsaw Man. It's normal for him to think that!

Because that's how she was presented on TV!

Which shows what? That you can't trust everything you see

Just before, we had a focus on Asa's legs, particularly through her walking, the fact that she's almost running

Let's interpret this in reverse again. Did you see Fami's hands? Yes, we see them, but never up close and never open.

What was important was obscured by the fact that, at the end, it was noted that she did have something in her hands, but the chapter focused on Asa's legs, even though she had slipped.

Pay no attention to what was emphasized to guess what happens next

In the title, I'm talking about Fami's right ear, because she is abnormally shown on the same side throughout the chapter.

Because it's hiding an earpiece? I'd have liked to, but I don't think so. As someone pointed out in the previous post: you can still see her ear on page 2.

The point is not to think that Fami is tilting her head to hide something in her ear, but why is she shown so much the same way?

The fact that she's bent over reminded me of chapter 140, when Denji visits the CSM church for the first time. At the end of that chapter, Barem presents an ultimatum: which side is heavier? Chainsaw Man represented by that cable on Denji's torso or his peaceful life with his family?

The chapter 140 is called "Scales", evoking the weighing of these two choices, and Fami, who is supposed to represent the church, is already tipped over.

Why? Because the choice has already been made

Denji chose to be Chainsaw Man, but when he realized it, he was faced with the fire in which he lost his cat and dogs.

When he transformed, he found himself endangering his little sister Nayuta

The scales tipped in Chainsaw Man's favor, to the detriment of his family.

The way Fami was always presented on the same side was to make it clear which way his head was tilting : to the left.

Okay, but how do you explain Fami's head being tilted the other way in other earlier chapters? It's normal, Denji's choice is very recent! He hesitated until now!

All this makes even more sense with her Chainsaw Man earrings, which represent cables.

And then you'll tell me "it would work if she had a cable earring on the same ear, but it's safe on both ears so it doesn't work", yes it does, trust us, we'll carry on.

When does Asa fall in part 2? Often when death is near, almost like a bad omen announcing it. She falls crushing Bucky, she falls with Yuko who later dies prematurely, she almost falls when her mother sacrifices herself...

So death is near.

And two things can explain it :

Fami is bent over to symbolize the fact that Chainsaw Man has been chosen over his peaceful life.

The chapter again emphasizes that Asa can save Chainsaw Man by attacking Chainsaw Man, because Chainsaw Man prevents Denji from having access to his peaceful life, hence the fact that Fami is bent over.

But let's think about it another way: in chapter 155, Denji emphasized the fact that he didn't know what a family was, having committed patricide, how could he possibly understand this notion?

Denji killed his father, his brother, his sister died for him...

So Chainsaw Man has always put his family at risk, which seems logical given everything we've said.

But remember that in this same chapter, we found an answer: Chainsaw Man is an empty shell filled with the people he loves, his family, and his aim is to protect them.

When Denji says he wants to be Chainsaw Man, it's to protect his family, who fill him as an empty shell.

When Fami says we must kill Chainsaw Man to save him, she's right.

Maybe not because there are 2 Chainsaw Man, since Pochita and Denji are inseparable.

But because to protect what has filled Chainsaw Man's heart, you have to kill the source of his misfortune, himself.

And that's why it all works, even if Fami's two earrings are cables, because even killing Chainsaw Man, the empty shell, saves what filled it - his family.

That's why Asa falls, because the end and Denji's sacrifice are close at hand.

But second interpretation.

Remember, when Asa falls, it means that death is near. So.................. who's next to her?

Obviously, this is pure theory, but I find it amusing.

Why does Fami only show one side? Because she didn't present herself well.

If Fami has insisted on anything from the start, it's that we call it Fami, not Famine. Why is that? Because she renamed herself just as quickly as Yoru did, choosing a name that hid her true identity.

Remember how Yoshida told her she was terrible at choosing names, to which Fami retorted that she didn't care if anyone found out who she was?

Is that really the case? Wasn't it to reinforce the fact that she was supposedly the devil of famine?

The first time Fami appears, in Asa's school, she introduces herself as the war devil's big sister (= true), which she does again at the aquarium, introducing herself as the famine demon (= false), called Fami (= true).

But as we've seen, you can lie about a devil's name, just as Fami did with the fire demon, presenting him as the devil of justice.

So what's to stop her from lying about the fear she represents too?

I know it sounds crazy, but what happened when the devil of eternity appeared? People were hungry!

And the first time Fami didn't intervene, the more time passed, the more the hunger grew, the stronger the demon seemed to become.

What's to stop the devil of eternity being the devil of famine?

You : "it's a tactic for Fami to use the power of the demon of eternity to starve them out". Yes it's true! But my theory about the wrong choice of devil names is possible too. The trick is not to say that what's been presented to us doesn't work, but to try and question it.

The famine devil falsely called the devil of eternity could be defeated by Denji twice: in part 1, because he had overcome the famine by becoming a public hunter

In part 2, because he fed Asa!

If Fami has insisted on anything from the start, it's that we call her Fami, not Famine. Why is that? Because she renamed herself just as quickly as Yoru did, choosing a name that hid her true identity : the Death Devil.

So, since the answers lie in what we can't see, what's stopping Fami from tripping Asa?

Which explains Asa's shocked face.

But above all, it implies that his fall was not an unintentional one, as it always is when death is near, but that it was caused by death.

So if we line up the interpretations: death doesn't want mankind to disappear.

How do I know this?

Because she said so! She loves pizzas.

Death wants to kill Chainsaw Man to remain the sole end of beings. To stop it, all you have to do is eat her.

[sandcobangevent]

Silence Your Phone and Open Your Heart

By @littleoceanbabe and @starfruitsomething

Ping!

“Watson, your ph-” Sherlock moved to grab John’s phone from the table, but it was snatched up lightning quick.

“Thanks, Sherlock!” John beamed, almost hugging his phone to his chest. Sherlock saw his cheeks redden slightly. Incredibly odd behavior, from his flatmate.

“...Are you feeling alright, W-”

“FINE! Sorry. I’m fine, Sherlock! Just. Erm,” John’s eyes darted as he tried and failed to come up with some excuse, “Just expecting something, is all.”

Odd, again. But Sherlock didn’t feel the need to pry, even if his friend was acting completely abnormal, “Alright, then.” Sherlock settled back into his seat to look down his microscope again, and saw John shuffle away awkwardly out of his peripheral.

~~

Ping!

Sherlock only paused in his reading at the noise, blinked once, then sunk back into his book.

Ping! a few moments later, and Sherlock startled, in the midst of a rather fascinating paragraph. His nose wrinkled in slight annoyance, but resumed his reading.

Ping!

This time Sherlock fully lifted his head, glaring at the offender, which was nestled in John’s hands. John was seemingly unaware of the turmoil Sherlock was currently dealing with, tapping away at his phone. Sherlock huffed quietly, but went back to his book.

Ping! “Watson, you are aware of a wonderful feature on your phone that silences your notifications?”

“Hm?” John inclined his head towards Sherlock, but still staring down at his phone screen. Sherlock frowned, even if John wasn’t looking.

“Your constant influx of text messages is making it very difficult to concentrate,” Sherlock stated flatly, “Silence your phone or go to another room to text.” He blinked, “Please,” he added.

“Uhh, oh. Oh! Oh yeah, so sorry about that, m-uh, mate,” John now divulged his full attention on Sherlock, “It’s just my mum. You know how Carol can be.”

“As well as I do know,” Sherlock started, “Can you finish your conversation elsewhere?”

John flushed, “Yes, ‘course. Sorry, Sherls.” He stood and moved out of the sitting room, and Sherlock resumed his reading in peace.

~~

Ping!

“Your phone, Watson.”

Ping!

“Watson. Your phone.”

Ping!

“Your phone, Watson!”

Ping!

“For god's sake!” Sherlock dramatically threw himself off the sofa, snatching John’s phone off the coffee table, tapping the screen.

From: Mum From: Mum From: Mum From: Mum

The messages were private, unable to be seen from the locked phone screen. Sherlock huffed, and stomped through the flat, up to John’s bedroom. He flung the door open without decorum, startling a sleeping John and Archie, who barked out of instinct before he saw it was only Sherlock intruding. John was much less dignified, yelping and flailing before slamming a palm on his chest.

“Christ, Sherlock!” He wheezed, “Ever heard of knocking??”

“Your mother is texting. Incessantly,” Sherlock grumbled, tossing John’s phone onto the bed, “Make her stop, Watson.”

John grabbed his phone and squinted at the bright screen, and Sherlock watched as he read through the messages. John groaned, putting his phone face down on the bedding without replying to anything.

“This couldn’t have waited until I woke up? How long’s it been?”

“An hour.”

“An hour- Sherlock! I said I wanted two hours, at least!”

“Your mother’s texts were annoying me.”

“So turn off the bloody phone! Jesus…” John fell back against his pillow, one hand on Archie’s back, who was already falling back asleep, “Unless she’s calling me incessantly, it’s not an emergency, Sherlock. Just turn off my phone next time, yeah?”

“...Or don’t forget your phone on the coffee table.”

“Sherlock. Let me take a nap.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, “Yes, Watson.”

“Saw that,” John yawned, “Close the door, will ya?”

Sherlock complied, and he didn’t hear any more pings for the afternoon.

~~

Ping!

Sherlock sighed, loudly.

Ping!

“Your mother again?” Sherlock asked, looking up briefly from the map he was currently drawing out.

“Mm,” John replied distractedly, a forkful of eggs halfway up to his mouth, looking at his phone like it personally offended him.

It made Sherlock pause, tilting his head slightly, “Are you alright, Watson?”

John blinked, looking up at Sherlock. His cheeks flushed. That keeps happening… Sherlock thought absently.

“‘M fine, Sherlock. My mum keeps… She keeps bothering me. About something. I’m just-just getting a bit sick of it, is all.” He turned his phone screen off and placed it face-down on the table, taking the neglected fork to his mouth, “What’re you working on?” His voice was muffled from the eggs.

“Only a map of London. From memory,” Sherlock said, “I always forget something whenever I attempt it, a road or two, perhaps. It’s more of a personal challenge to recreate it perfectly without reference.”

“Wow,” John said, he swallowed his food, then looked at Sherlock with soft eyes, “You are incredible.”

It was so sincere, and seemingly so out of nowhere, Sherlock squirmed in his seat a bit, “Stop it now, Watson,” he muttered, feeling his face warm, “Really. It’s nothing.”

“Nothing? Sherlock, you’re making a map of an entire city from memory, just ‘cause you’re a bit bored! You are… spectacular.”

Sherlock suddenly felt it a bit difficult to breathe. John was smiling at him, so fondly and warmly, while eating his breakfast. It felt terribly domestic and cliché.

Ping!

John’s warmth dropped instantly and he glared at his phone, placing his fork down on his plate and grabbing it.

Sherlock could only keep staring, still reeling from John’s compliment, while John was fighting with the facial recognition feature, “C’mon, you piece of- Ugh.” John typed in his code, and Sherlock saw the placement of his fingers on the screen.

0601

Sherlock watched John’s face pinch in annoyance, huff through his nose, type a short reply, and set his phone back down.

“...Is everything alright with your mother?”

John wasn’t looking at him anymore, and Sherlock felt unreasonably upset about that.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. She’s just. Juuuust being Carol, y’know? Can’t sway her any other way.” John picked up his fork and stabbed at his eggs again, shoving another bite in his mouth and still not looking at Sherlock.

“Ah. Right.” Sherlock looked back down at his half-finished map, and suddenly realized he missed an alleyway in the south.

~~

Ping!

John was in the shower, his phone face up on the kitchen counter.

From: Mum

Sherlock blinked at it, mug of tea in hand.

Ping! From: Mum

Sherlock looked in the direction of the lavatory, just barely hearing John sing above the spray of the shower. He had about ten minutes.

Chewing his lower lip, Sherlock looked back at John’s phone, then back at the shower again.

It wouldn’t be right, he thought, It would be a violation of trust and privacy. It wouldn’t be right.

He knew he shouldn’t. But he couldn’t help himself. Something was going on with John’s mother, and despite her… rather outward personality, John loved her, and Sherlock cared for her, too.

He tapped the screen and swiped up with one hand, mug of tea still in the other.

0601

He picked up the phone and read the text.

From: Mum It’s been going on too long, love! You need to tell him!

Sherlock stopped breathing, staring at the two short sentences for a long while.

Tell who what?

He let out a shaky exhale, looking back in the direction of the loo. John was still singing, completely oblivious.

Sherlock opened the messaging app, reading from the most recent text.

From: Mum It’s been going on too long, love! You need to tell him.

From: Mum I’m worried about you, sweetie. You two deserve each other.

From: Mum Oi. Don’t talk about that like my son, either.

From: Me I just feel like he deserves more than me…

Sherlock’s heart dropped into his stomach. He's interested in someone, he thought, Someone whom he thinks he doesn’t deserve…

He scrolled up a little more, trying to gather more information.

From: Mum Morning, love! Is today the day?? Will you tell him??

Sherlock scrolled back down to the next message.

From: Me Mum…

From: Mum Only a question! You should be sweeping him off his feet by now, Johnny!

From: Me Why are you so obsessed over this?

From: Mum He makes you happy, darling.

Sherlock’s head snapped up at the sound of the shower being turned off, and he quickly exited the messages app, shutting the screen off and placing it exactly where John had left it, give or take a few centimeters. Hopefully John wouldn’t notice.

John comes out a few moments later, his hair messy and wet, wearing sweatpants and an old tee. He smiles casually at Sherlock, who feels his heart thump harshly in his chest as he nods in acknowledgement. Sherlock watches John pick up his phone, anxiety trickling down his spine and taking a sip of now lukewarm tea to try and expunge it.

No such luck, as John was now opening up his phone.

About ten seconds of silence passed, Sherlock willing his hands not to tremble around his mug. It was a tremendous effort.

“I’m feeling takeaway tonight,” John broke the silence, tapping away on the screen, “What say you?”

The anxiety was relieved so quickly Sherlock almost went into shock, “Hm? Oh, yes. Takeaway. Sounds wonderful.”

John’s phone didn’t go off for the rest of the night.

~~

Ping!

Sherlock had been rather jumpy over John’s text notifications since his recent discovery.

Every ping! from Watson’s phone made his heart skip a beat and his breath come in pants, lungs constricting and stomach twisting.

This particular notification startled him so bad he slammed the back of his head on the kitchen cabinet he was rooting around for a specific mug in.

“Ooh, y’alright, mate?” John winced and hissed, witnessing the whole thing. Sherlock felt his face burn in embarrassment, and he refused to look back at John, rubbing the back of his skull gingerly.

“I’m fine, Watson,” He grumbled, grabbing the first mug he could reach. It was the wrong one for tea, but he couldn’t be bothered to find the right one now.

Ping!

The mug slipped and Sherlock scrambled to catch it mid-air. A few nearly fumbled, rapid-succession attempts, and the mug was saved from collateral damage.

“...You sure you’re alright, Sherlock?” John asked, once again witnessing the entire humiliating event.

“I said I was fine, Watson,” Sherlock slammed the mug down on the table with much more force than necessary and slowly moved about the kitchen to prepare his tea, taking great lengths to ensure anything in his hands was not being held for any lengthy period.

Sure enough, after 36 seconds of silence;

Ping!

“Ugh, I’m sorry. It’s my mum. She wants to call me,” John pushing himself up from his seat at the dining table, “I’ll just take it in my room. Be right back.” He wasn’t even halfway down the hall before his phone started ringing, and he picked up with a resigned “Hi, mum…” John closed the door behind him with a soft click, and Sherlock was left alone in the kitchen, save for Archie snoozing soundly under the table.

For a moment, Sherlock didn’t move a muscle, fingers wrapped loosely around the mug still sitting on the table, kettle boiling away behind him on the stove.

The kettle whistles. Sherlock stands and starts to prepare his tea. He watches it steep for 23 seconds, impatiently tapping his fingers rapidly on the countertop, resisting the urge to glance back at John’s room. He stared at his mug for another 18 seconds.

And swiftly left the kitchen, silently creeping up to John’s room.

He really shouldn’t do this. It’s yet again another complete invasion of privacy.

He pressed his ear to the door.

There was a short beat of silence before John’s muffled voice filtered through the door, “Muuum, come on, can I please convince you to just leave me alone…”

She was questioning him about something. Sherlock silently hoped (and feared, if he were being honest) that John was talking about this mystery man John was infatuated with.

“No! I told you, mum. It’s not happening,” John sounded frustrated.

Sherlock pressed his ear to the door hard enough to hurt, and lifted a hand to lay his palm flat against it as well, as if it would help him hear better.

“Stop trying to get involved!” John groaned, “...No, no god, mum, please do not come over. That wouldn’t- …Because you getting involved in my love life would be the world’s biggest disaster. No. Do not just show up. Please.”

“...Sorry, mum.”

“...I know, mum, I know. I’m not- I’m not trying to worry you…”

“I just- I can’t tell him, mum. I can’t.”

Sherlock’s heart sank, hearing the resignation and melancholy in John’s voice.

“...Can we please talk about something else now?” John sniffed, and his voice sounded a bit thick. Sherlock wanted nothing more than to fling open the door, pull John into his arms, and tell him that he should have nothing to worry about. Anybody would be the luckiest person on earth to have John Watson as their own.

But it would be rude to interrupt a phone call.

Sherlock pulled away from the door, letting his palm slide down and off as well. He silently crept back to the kitchen, sitting at the table, and taking a sip of his tea.

It was far too oversteeped.

~~

Since the phone call, John had been oddly... Tense.

For one, Sherlock noted immediately, his phone had been silenced. He would pick it up so frequently to check for anything new, and tap away constantly at the screen, and Sherlock wouldn't hear any clicking sounds emitting from it.

The silence should have been a blessing.

It was eerie, really.

He felt as though he had to walk on eggshells around his own flat; as John's unusually flat demeanor was getting more and more worrisome, like bending a pencil, ready to snap at any point. Sherlock felt as if he could see the splinters. John would hardly talk to him, speaking in short, clipped sentences, and avoiding eye contact and touch at nearly any cost. Sherlock would normally have been grateful if it were anyone else. But this was John. He missed his voice. He missed his eyes. He missed his touch.

They were in the sitting room together when the pencil finally snapped. Sherlock was curled up on his armchair, fingers steepled together under his chin, deep in thought over their current predicament. He was aware of John's presence (it was much too difficult to ignore, through both the tension and the cologne John had put on that morning), but only peripherally. Sherlock was attempting to convince himself to assist John in this romantic fiasco he found himself in, at great detriment to himself (it wasn't ideal; John... with someone else. But if it would make John less... upset, then Sherlock would have done anything).

Ping!

Sherlock's pocket buzzed congruently to the sound. His eyes fluttered open, avoiding John entirely as he reached for his phone. The notification he was greeted with was rather confusing.

From: John Are you ever going to say anything?

Sherlock blinked at the text, frowned in confusion, and unlocked his phone. Then, he stared at the text more, looking away briefly to open his mouth to speak to John - who was still sitting on the loveseat in the same room, tunnel-visioned on his own phone - but found he couldn't come up with anything to say out loud. He looked back down at the screen.

From: Me Say anything about what?

John's phone didn't make a sound, but Sherlock saw his fingers start to move, and the typing bubble pop up on his own phone.

Ping!

Sherlock startled, and quickly silenced his phone.

From: John About this. You. Me. Us.

From: Me I don't know what you're referring to.

From: John Come on, Sherlock. I'm not stupid. I know you know.

From: Me I do not.

John sighed from his seat, and Sherlock's stomach flipped.

From: John I know you looked through my phone. I know you eavesdropped on the call with my Mum. I know you know.

The air felt thinner. Sherlock couldn't breathe. His vision darkened at the edges. I know.

"John, I'm so-"

John interrupted him by clearing his throat, waggling his phone without taking his eyes off it.

No talking, then.

From: John So. You haven't said anything.

From: Me It wasn't my place.

From: John I would sure think so. What do you mean it's not your place??

From: Me Meaning that it isn't my place to interfere with your romantic entanglements.

Another minute had passed before Sherlock received another text.

From: John ...Okay I'm confused.

From: Me It's hardly my concern, knowing who you're dating.

"Ohhhh..." John lifted his head and finally, finally, turned to look at Sherlock, "You mean... You don't know?"

Sherlock stared at John, who had an interesting mixture of relief and anxiety on his face, and frowned in annoyance, "That is what I've been trying to tell you, Watson."

"Ah. Shit, um... Well, Sherlock. Gah, this is awkward. The thing is... You-you, erm. I'm... Fuck."

"John."

"You're the one I'm... hoping for a 'romantic entanglement' with."

Oh.

"...Oh." Sherlock whispered, his phone hung loosely in his grip, not daring to blink now as John stood up from the sofa and made his way over. Sherlock's pulse quickened, sounding thunderous in his ears.

John knelt down by the armchair, closer to eye-level with Sherlock, "Is that... okay?" He was apprehensive, cautious, as if he were approaching a frightened animal. Maybe he was, as Sherlock felt the overwhelming urge to run away and hide, even if this was very good news.

He swallowed it down with tremendous effort, "Yes," He choked out, "Yes, it's okay."

"Okay, good," John slowly moved his hand, taking Sherlock's phone away. He clicked off the screen, and placed it facedown on the coffee table, "Very good." He pushed himself up, and suddenly his face was only centimeters away from Sherlock's own, "Is this okay as well?"

The ability to speak was gone, now. Sherlock only nodded dumbly, and John smiled softly. Sherlock couldn't hear his next words, but then John's lips were upon his own, kissing him softly and sweetly. The world melted away, and the tension flooded out of his body, even as his heart rate maintained its jackrabbit pace.

John pulled away first, and pressed their foreheads together.

"Don't think you got away from snooping in my phone, though," John mumbled.

Sherlock heard the grin in his voice, and laughed.