#for a second where he is and why. the destruction is made more extreme by just how little these people (soldiers and children and refugees)

[heaven-s-black-box]

Vulnerability- Aventurine x male!Reader

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Recovery date: April 29th, 2024

Description: Hello sorry if this is a bad time, but I was wondering if you could make a story where the reader is male and comes from an extremely endangered species that is capable of having a child with a partner of the same gender, and he's kind of like Black Swan's apprentice, and went to Penacony with her but he ends up bumping into his ex Aventurine, the reader left him because he had a couple mental issues he needed to work out but he still cares about Aventurine and just doesn't know what to say to him.

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. I couldn't really work in the "being able to have a child with someone of the same gender" but otherwise I think this came out really well.

Word count: 1 031

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Black Swan is a bitch.

That’s Y/n’s opinion as he catches a glimpse of soft golden hair and a gaudy green suit across the bar. The memokeeper had sent her darling apprentice to get them some drinks. She could feign ignorance, but Y/n watched her look over at the bar before sending him. He knows this was intentional, but he won’t let her lead him like she leads everyone else.

Seriously, he’d been under the impression that memokeepers were simply supposed to observe, why was she so intent on meddling with his life?

“One sweetened mood and one prolonged sunrise, from the man in the green suit,” the bartender nodded over her shoulder before he could ask about the second drink.

Y/n bit their tongue and tried to hold back a scowl.

“Thank you.”

He picked up the sweetened mood and brought it back to Black Swan.

“You forgot your drink,” Black Swan hummed, taking her drink from Y/n.

“I didn’t get one.”

“But he bought you one,” she grinned, taking a sip.

“And if I took it I’d be opening myself up to talk to him, and I have nothing to say to him.”

They both looked over to the bar, finding the man in question talking with a man with purple hair who looked less than thrilled to be there. When Y/n turned back around, Black Swan was watching her drink swirl together– the layers becoming muddled and the vibrant colors becoming one dull shade. He could sense a coming lecture and sighed.

“You want to be a memokeeper to preserve your kind, to leave a record in the wake of your destruction so that maybe someday– if the universe comes to an end– you can be born again.”

“If you’re about to suggest repopulating my kind I’m going to leave.”

Black Swan laughed.

“No, no, that’s a decision only you can make. I’m just saying that you’ve found your purpose now, maybe it’s time to give relationships another chance.”

Y/n frowned.

Black Swan wasn’t wrong. The only reason Y/n had broken up with Aventurine was because he’d felt too dependent on the IPC agent. Aventurine had tried to comfort him by insisting he could depend on him, but that had only made things worse. Neither of them wanted to be taken care of and while Aventurine was in a position where he could take care of Y/n, even if it was only superficially, Y/n was out matched. So he’d left.

Now he just wasn’t sure what to say.

He’d been unsure of what to say for years. He’d had the same conversation with himself every night as he lay in bed, trying to find the words that explained why he left. Trying to explain what exactly ‘you’re too coddling’ actually meant beyond never letting him pay.

---

Y/n felt shifting below him, nudging him awake. He buried himself into his pillow a little more, frowning at how hard it was, before prying his eyes open.

“It’s been awhile,” a groggy voice spoke from above him. 

The apprentice memokeeper sat up, groaning in pain as his back stretched out from the uncomfortably bent position he’d been in. Aventurine laughed, squeezing his hand. Y/n hadn’t even noticed that he was holding it, but he quickly pulled it back and settled his hands in his lap.

“Sorry, must’ve been really tired,” Y/n mumbled, yawning as he pressed himself back into his chair. “I’ll go get a doctor.”

Aventurine grabbed his wrist as he tried to leave.

“Can we talk?”

“You should get checked out, you’ve been out for a while.”

“It’s not like I’m hurt.”

“No,” Y/n sighed, “you were comatose. I’m getting you a doctor, then we can talk.”

He kept his word.

A few minutes after the doctor left the room, Y/n re-entered with a tray of food. He sat back in his seat and set the tray on the bed table before pulling it up to Aventurine.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Y/n said.

Aventurine nodded, staring at the food in front of him as they fell silent.

The small room was filled with the ticking of the clock on the wall and the faint sounds of footsteps outside. They were in the medical area on Penacony; Robin and Sunday were being treated in their rooms but Aventurine was stuck here.

Y/n found himself staring at the food on Aventurine’s tray as well.

“I’m sorry,” they both said. “Why are you-” they continued, stopping when they both turned to look at each other at the same time.

Y/n looked tired, and Aventurine looked a little sickly. It was almost funny that they were looking at each other in such vulnerable states. Maybe if they’d been able to see each other like this before, they wouldn’t have broken up. If they’d been able to understand that being able to protect one another was the only way they felt strong.

“I get it,” Aventurine said. “I always understood it… because I felt the same way,” his voice dropped to a whisper as he looked down to his hands in his lap.

“It was just… so hard to feel like I couldn’t do anything for you, like I was useless and maybe if we weren’t us we could have worked through it together but everything you tried to do to make things better made me feel worse.”

They fell silent again, collecting their thoughts and picking their next words.

This was the most open they’d ever been with each other.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Aventurine asked suddenly.

“I did. I’ve been trying to think of how to tell you but it felt weird.”

“Why?” Y/n looked up at him. “Did you want to tell me, I mean.”

“Because I miss you.”

Aventurine nodded, then reached for their hand. He intertwined their fingers.

“Kakavasha. That’s my name.”

A small smile tugged at Y/n’s lips.

“Kakavasha,” he brought the back of the man’s hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss against the worn skin, “I think it’s a beautiful name.”

[trashcanalienist]

Rambo III (1988)

[ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult]

Unpredictable, Part 8-Limoreau x black!fem!reader fic

A/N: This took me way too long to write but as per usual, please let me know what you think and if you want more.

Warnings: angst, negative family dynamics, eating issues, body issues, and swearing.

Word Count: 7.8k

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @badbishsblog, @gardenof-venus, @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog, @kasslucilfer, @darksoul100

Luke’s smile would have been more contagious if my thoughts were not so jumbled. Even though he was standing right across from me, my brain refused to believe he was real. Sure, he was wearing his favorite brown jacket over a t-shirt with jeans, and the sun (or whatever light) highlighted the natural glow around him. But, it was impossible.

“Impossible?” Luke asked. “That’s a little harsh.”

I hesitated and pressed the back of my hand to my forehead. “Sorry, this is a lot to take in.”

But I could see the scene in my mind’s eye: the Vought clean-up crew hosing the blood off the cobblestone in front of Lamplighter, the chunks of Luke they put in biohazard bags, and the smell---

I wretched at the thought of it and tried not to double over. Luke rushed over to me and softly grasped my shoulders.

“Hey, are you okay, Y/N?” he asked.

“No,” I muttered, shaking my head. “I…I saw you die, and this is a messed up joke if this is a joke. Or…”

Luke sighed. “You’re not dead if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He slowly backed away and I straightened up. Then, I launched myself at him and he caught me in a bear hug, laughing as he did. The scent of pine and clean aftershave almost made me cry.

“I miss you,” I mumbled into his chest.

“I miss you too,” he replied.

“I wish none of this happened. Why didn’t you tell any of us what was going on?” I demanded.

Luke paused. “I didn’t know how but, it sounds like you guys are figuring things out.”

I slowly pulled away from Luke and eyed him. “How can you tell?”

Luke pursed his lips. “I’m a manifestation of Cate’s subconsciousness. So, I see everything she sees.”

At his words, my eyes wandered around the forest. At first glance, it looked like any other forest with large trees and whistling wind. But on closer inspection, there were no woodland creatures, no sounds of birds, and the sky was more like a large gray cloud with red cracks that flashed every few seconds.

“I’m in Cate’s head?”

“You catch on quick but then again, you always do.”

I looked up at Luke. “So, if I’m in here, what’s happening to my body? And where’s everyone else?”

“You touched Cate when she was in extreme duress and she retreated to her mind but she brought you with her,” Luke explained. “Your body could be experiencing several things: seizure, vomiting, a comatose state, or hysteria.”

I groaned. “So, her going into shock put me in shock?”

“Pretty much.”

Another shock of lightning flashed across the “sky” but this time, it struck and destroyed a boulder that was about thirty feet away from Luke and me. The crash made me jump and Luke grabbed my arm.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“She’s kind of self-destructing. This hasn’t happened before and the only way to get out is if she wakes up,” Luke warned.

“So, I just need to find Cate and wake us both up,” I confirmed with a nod.

Lightning cracked through the sky and I jumped further into Luke’s grip.

“Basically but you don’t have a lot of time. If she doesn’t wake up, you’ll be stuck here forever.”

His words hung heavy over me and I could feel pressure weighing down on my shoulders. Somehow, I had to find Cate and snap her out of this state. Even though she’d been through a lot in the last few hours, she didn’t have to go this far.

I managed a smile. “Well, at least I have you here as a guide.”

Luke straightened up and puffed out his chest. “Of course. So, all you have to do---”

An instant later, a flash of lightning took him with it. It was difficult to tell whether knowing he was already dead made this second loss easier or harder. At the same time, it was nice to see Luke again, to talk to him, and touch him.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to think. The best course of action would be to try to use my powers again and figure out the best route out. It definitely could not hurt after the last couple of tries.

I closed my eyes and focused on the best way to find Cate. However, it was like my powers didn’t exist at all. Before, it felt like they were just out of reach and this was definitely worse.

I opened my eyes as I felt my heartbeat pick up.

“Breathe, Y/N, breathe,” I hissed.

There was no time for my anxiety to spike. No one else was here except me and Cate and I was the only one who could find her.

After a few deep breaths, I opened my eyes and saw a large glossy oak door standing in front of me. The door looked familiar, and I couldn’t stop myself from grabbing its knob and pushing it open.

Seconds later, the bright light stunned me as I wandered into the space. When my eyes adjusted, I realized that I was in Dean Shetty’s office, complete with the expensive furniture and tapestry. Dean Shetty sat at her desk and stirred some sugar into her cup of tea. Cate was sitting across from her but she looked much more innocent, like she had when we first met.

She sipped from a pristine teacup and tapped her gloved fingers against the porcelain. She wore a white varsity sweater and ripped jeans.

“How is your first week as a sophomore?” Dean Shetty asked.

Cate nodded. “It’s going well so far. It feels different.”

“That’s only a natural feeling. You are much more in control of your powers and you are more experienced.”

“Thank you, Indira, it’s all because of your help.”

Dean Shetty shook her head and set her teacup down. “No, I only supported you; you did a lot of work. You are in the Top 20 for a reason.” She clasped her hands together. “Considering your progress, I think it’s time that I give you a new challenge.”

Cate raised her eyebrows. “Challenge?”

“Yes. I believe it is time for you to pass on what you learned and that you are ready now. There is a freshman that I would like you to meet. She is an incredibly bright, talented supe but, she needs some guidance to realize her full potential.” Dean Shetty grinned. “Considering how similar your abilities are, I believe you would be a fantastic match as her peer mentor.”

Cate paused. “Peer mentor?”

“Yes, a guide of sorts about how to succeed at Godolkin; who to befriend, what events to engage with, and how to gain more control over your abilities. These sorts of things tend to come better from someone who is of a similar age. What do you think?”

Even though it sounded like a question, it wasn’t. Dean Shetty’s tone was light but her eyes seemed to darken slightly and she straightened up a little as she eyed Cate. Cate stared at the teacup in her hand for a while, mulling things over.

“Okay, if you think it’s a good idea, then I’m open to it,” Cate declared.

Dean Shetty smiled. “Wonderful.”

“When do I meet her?”

A second later, someone knocked on the door behind me and Dean Shetty rose from her seat.

“Right now,” she commented.

As she walked towards me, Dean Shetty’s gaze never left the door. Even as she walked past me, she didn’t acknowledge me.

“They probably can’t see me,” I concluded.

Dean Shetty opened the door in one flawless motion but she stood in a way where I couldn’t see who was on the other side.

“Am I early?” a soft voice asked.

“No, you have impeccable timing. Come on in.”

Dean Shetty stepped aside and in walked a very anxious freshman version of myself. I watched as my freshman self fought to not grab at the black tennis skirt that swayed when she walked. The silk pressed curls bounced against the middle of her back as she approached Dean Shetty’s desk.

Cate stood when freshman me got close enough and Dean Shetty stood next to me.

“Cate, I’d like you to meet Y/N Y/L/N. She’s at the top of Brink’s first-year class and I am confident her star will continue to rise with proper guidance,” Dean Shetty announced.

Freshman me extended a hand towards Cate and Cate accepted it. “It’s nice to meet you. I saw your TikTok on supe psychology and it was really cool.”

Did I always ramble that much?

“I’m glad you liked it and it’s nice to meet you too,” Cate responded.

Dean Shetty gestured for Cate and freshman me to sit and she poured freshman me a cup of tea. “I was just telling Cate that I think she would be a wonderful peer mentor.”

“Peer mentor?” I echoed.

“Yes, someone your age who can help guide you through GOD U. I’m sure you’ve noticed how hectic it can be and not everyone survives here. Any freshman would kill to have personal time with a Top 20 supe but they do not all meet the standard to do so.”

Freshman me’s eyes widened with each word Dean Shetty spoke. “That’s amazing but, why me?”

“Like I said you are exceptional in your classes already and your skill set and Ms. Dunlap’s are similar and cause similar side effects. I believe she can help you navigate that as well as all things GOD U.”

Freshman me turned to Cate and smiled softly. “If you’re okay with it…”

“Of course. What is your ability, by the way?”

Freshman me rattled off my ability and Cate nodded, impressed. Then, Dean Shetty’s cell phone rang and she excused herself to take it. Cate leaned closer to Freshman Me.

“Don’t be so nervous. I already know that we’ll be friends,” she smiled.

Freshman me grinned in reply and I could feel the residual giddiness or that could have been me remembering this day. Cate was so impressive at that point that I was afraid that she wouldn’t want to be stuck with me or ignore me. But the anger that rose at the sight of Cate’s grin leapt out of me.

“If we were such good friends, why did you trap me in your head?” I hissed.

Cate turned to me. “I wasn’t lying, Y/N. I thought your powers were impressive and I could tell how powerful you were when we first met. I still want us to be friends.”

I stomped over to her. “Then, let’s get out of here. We can go together; we don’t have to stay here.”

But as quickly as she was there, she was gone. Suddenly, I was in the corner of the training gym and Luke, Andre, and Jordan were hanging out on the other end. Jordan was in their female form, wearing a baggy tank top and loose sweatpants, something they’d rarely wear outside of a memory.

I remembered this, this was the first time I ever trained with the Top Five. Cate had dragged me to the gym, insisting that I meet her friends and almost-boyfriend while also improving my combat skills. At the time, I thought she was crazy and that maybe it was a cruel prank but her genuine smile and encouragement were comforting.

Slowly, I approached the group, moving to stand near Jordan and listening to the conversation.

“So, who’s this girl Cate’s bringing?” Andre asked.

“Her mentee. Shetty set them up, but she sounds excited,” Luke answered.

“You don’t have a name?” Jordan asked.

Luke laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Cate mentioned it, but I can’t remember.”

Jordan rolled her eyes. “Well, this freshman better not waste my time.”

Luke playfully elbowed her. “Stop being so grumpy. If Shetty paired Cate with her, it probably means she’s impressive. At least give her a chance.”

Jordan scowled. “Why do you always have to be nice?”

Andre clapped his hands on Luke’s shoulders. “Because he’s Golden Boy.”

Watching past Jordan in all their surliness was jarring and I felt like a freshman again.

A second later, the training door opened, and I watched as Cate strutted in confidently with an arm wrapped around freshman me’s shoulders. I could feel the terror and anxiety wafting off freshman me as I watched her nervously eye the trio.

“Sorry, we’re late!” Cate called.

“It’s okay,” Luke insisted with a dazzling grin.

I giggled as Freshman me’s knees wobbled; it was funny how such a short time ago I couldn’t even make eye contact with Luke.

“Everyone, this is Y/N Y/L/N, my peer mentee. She’s doing amazing in her crim classes but needs a little help with combat,” Cate explained.

Freshman me did a small wave to everyone and Andre smirked as he swaggered up to her.

“Cate was keeping you all to herself, huh?” Andre commented.

Freshman me hesitated. “Uh…”

“Relax, Andre,” Luke said.

“Yeah, I don’t want you freaking her out with all that rizz,” Cate mocked.

Andre rolled his eyes and muttered something about the couple being “cockblockers”.

“Oh, you must know Jordan since they TA the first-year class,” Luke acknowledged.

“Um, sort of, we never…really…talk,” Freshman me admitted.

“Aw, don’t be scared of Jordan, their bark is worse than their bite,” Cate encouraged.

Andre raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”

Jordan scoffed. “I’ll give you this, you’re the least annoying freshman.”

“Thanks?”

“Okay, let’s split up into pairs.” Cate turned to Freshman me. “Don’t worry about getting hurt----we never go all out in training and we only spar until someone’s knocked out of bounds.”

Freshman me nodded and I watched as she side-eyed Jordan. Even though I’d known that I’d have to spar with them, it didn’t make my nervousness any better. However, the four of them split up amongst themselves, with Andre and Luke going first, followed by Cate and Jordan, and decided that the winners of those rounds would play rock-paper-scissors to determine who sparred with me.

Andre and Luke’s fight was interesting, and I forgot how close of a match they were. Of course, Luke used his fire and flying abilities to his advantage, but Andre was still a force to be reckoned with. Luke still won and Andre grinned as Luke helped him to his feet afterwards. Cate and Jordan’s fight was as surprisingly decent as I remembered. Even though Jordan switched between their forms depending on the circumstance, Cate managed to keep up for a while. It wasn’t until Jordan leg swept her, knocking her out of bounds, that the fight ended.

“Not…fair,” Cate panted as she sat up.

“Don’t be a sore loser,” Jordan teased as she helped her up.

Cate smirked and they stepped out of the ring. Andre playfully rubbed his hands together.

“So, who gets to fight the freshman?” he sang.

“It’s Y/N,” Cate corrected.

“Right, sorry.”

Freshman me smiled softly as she stood from her seat and walked closer to the group. Luke and Jordan faced each other and played rock-paper-scissors. Playing best out of three was a little cruel since Freshman me hoped to spar with Luke. At the very least, he would be nice when I inevitably lost. Jordan was difficult to read but I’d had a feeling that they would taunt me about losing.

When Jordan won, I couldn’t read their expression but Freshman me was terrified.

“Stop looking like I’m going to kill you,” Jordan snapped.

Freshman me jumped and Cate placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Like I said, don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” she whispered.

At the time, I was so frazzled that I couldn’t focus on the outcome of the fight. Instead, I had focused on keeping my lunch down. Instead of joining Andre, Cate, and me on the sidelines, Luke stood on the mat, a couple of feet outside the circle. He waited a couple of seconds before signaling for Freshman me and Jordan to spar.

My shoulders hiked up towards my ears as I watched Freshman me clumsily evade Jordan’s attacks. At that time, I’d learned how to predict my opponent’s movements but I rarely landed strong attacks. Brink thought that because my mental strength was so high my physical strength had no choice but to lag.

“It would be unfair at that point. But, as a future supe, you do need to learn the basics,” he’d instructed.

Freshman me’s form was all over the place; her guard slipped every few seconds, her feet never had solid contact with the ground, and any kick or punch was weak at worst and sloppy at best. I cringed when she took a small energy blast from Jordan that knocked her out of bounds. It didn’t hurt but it was definitely a shock at the time.

“Jordan!” Cate admonished as she jumped to her feet.

She started to rush forward but Andre held her back and Luke shook his head.

“She’s fine,” Luke mouthed.

Freshman me panted on the ground, sweat staining the lime green Alo set she wore a couple of shades darker. Jordan shifted into their male form as they sauntered over to me and extended a hand. Freshman me stared at his hand like it would turn into a snake at any second.

“Come on, you just saw I won’t bite,” he quipped.

At his words, Freshman me accepted his hand and Jordan pulled her to her feet in one move. I smiled as she almost bumped into him, but Jordan steadied her by gripping my forearms.

“I never thought you’d be this clumsy,” he commented.

Freshman me huffed. “I’m, uh, usually not this bad.”

“Well, your form needs some work, and you need to build up more confidence when you’re on the offense. But, you were great at evading me.” “Until that last move.”

“Not a lot of people could avoid that, especially not a freshman. Don’t worry, we’ll work on it.”

Freshman me frowned as Jordan turned and started sauntering back to Cate and Andre. “Wh-what does that mean?”

Jordan glanced at her over his shoulder. “It means I’ll spar with you more often. You can’t be one of Brink’s new favorites and be this bad at fighting, freshie.”

Freshman me continued to gawk at him as he walked away. Andre finally let Cate run over to Freshman me and she insisted on looking her over. When Jordan finally got close enough to me, he had the smallest smile on his face. I stood just as he bent down to grab his water bottle.

“I still don’t get how you flipped like that. You mostly ignored me until then and I was a horrible sparring partner,” I commented.

Jordan chuckled. “I thought you’d get it by now.”

When he turned to face me, my stomach dropped. I didn’t understand why I still had this reaction to him after everything that happened. No matter what, every time he looked at me, I felt warm all over.

“You agreed to train with some of the highest ranking supes on campus and even though you were intimidated, you did your best and you didn’t give up,” Jordan stated. “Before we sparred, I thought Brink liked you so much because of your ability but it was more than that: you face challenges, even when you don’t want to, like a real supe.”  

“So do you,” I pointed out.

Jordan shook his head. “Yeah, but it’s different when you do it. I didn’t want to dig into any of this GOD U shit but you didn’t hesitate. It’s scary but also inspiring.”

It took all my strength to keep my mouth from falling open. I inspired Jordan? The same Jordan who did everything in their power to stay in the Top Three. The same Jordan who impressed one of the most influential crime experts so much that they became his TA.

None of this made any sense and I wondered how long Jordan thought of me like that.

Do they actually think about you like that?

I blinked and my heart sunk at the realization that Cate could have been messing with me; this was her domain after all.

 But what if Cate knew what Jordan was thinking or feeling at the time? It was possible, especially if she had her gloves off.

“Jordan---"

“And that’s when I said, ‘I hate to tell you buddy but, you’re looking at the wrong end’!” a loud voice cut me off.

When I turned to face the direction of the voice, I was suddenly standing in the corner of the dining room at Mom’s. The candlelight from the tables reflected off the wall, giving the space a false sense of warmth. The scent of roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, yams, and collard greens tickled my nose as I wandered further into the room.

At the long table, Mom and Dad sat on opposite ends, the large spread Ms. Murphy, the family cook, prepared obstructing their views of each other. My brother, Isaac, sat on one side, grinning from ear to ear as both our parents laughed. My fourteen-year-old self sat across from him, smiling as she pushed some greens around on her plate.

I remembered this, this was our first Thanksgiving after Isaac took the Buenos Aires job. The tension was so thick in the air that I could have choked on it and it nearly stopped my appetite.

Younger me slouched in her chair, clad in a red plaid cap-sleeve dress with her hair swept up in a loose curly bun. My face was so much rounder then. As I slowly traversed the table, Isaac pushed up the sleeves of his charcoal gray Brooks Brothers sweater.

Everyone liked Isaac, boys, girls, adults, everyone. If no one fell for his charm, his good sense of humor, or his fantastic social skills, they tended to be drawn to his tall, broad frame and smooth copper skin. When I was a kid, Isaac was everything.

“And that happened your first day?” Dad asked as he adjusted his glasses.

Isaac shook his head. “First week.”

“As expected from our brilliant son,” Mom bragged, sipping some Dom Perignon.

Isaac’s laugh sounded like a deeper-pitched version of Denzel Washington’s. Younger me smiled widely at the sound while I stared on, knowing full well that he probably got it from years of practice.

“I mean, I’m still learning a lot. Everyone I work with has been very welcoming,” Isaac insisted.

“Are you learning a lot about the culture? In school, we learned that it’s so vibrant there,” Younger me piped in.

Mom’s gaze cut towards me. “Y/N, don’t interrupt Isaac.”

Younger me shrank back and I flinched. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Dad rolled his eyes. “Y/N was only asking a question, Y/M/N. She hasn’t seen him in months, it’s only natural.”

Isaac raised his hands. “It’s okay, everyone.” He looked at Younger me. “It’s a really good question, Y/N. These past two years, I’ve really immersed myself in the culture and I’ve even started picking up more Spanish. Also, the Argentinians are a very welcoming people and I’m so fortunate to work and live with them.”

For the first time, I realized how practiced Isaac sounded. It was the same way Coco sounded whenever she practiced speeches but, she was also going into political science.

Who was Isaac trying to impress or sway?

I made my way to Younger Me and stood against the wall behind her. Her eyes were so wide and sparkling, hanging on to Isaac’s every word. I wondered if that was the same way I looked when I was rushing Si Chi.

Younger Me ate a mouthful of yams and nodded happily. “I’m glad you’re having such a good time. We miss you here, though.”

“But this is a great opportunity for your brother, Y/N. We couldn’t hold him back here,” Dad interjected.

“Right, yeah---” “Yes,” Mom corrected.

“Yes,” Younger Me repeated, turning to Isaac. “Can you pass me the turkey?”

My stomach dropped as the memory echoed in my ears. I wrapped my arms around my waist and leaned further into the wall, rubbing my sides.

“Sure, Sis.” Isaac grabbed the dish and started to hand it over when Dad placed a hand on Isaac’s wrist.

“Y/N, you’ve already had a…generous helping. Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” he asked gently.

I thought I was sinking into the ground as I watched Younger Me grasp for words and could feel how flustered she was in my chest.

“You can’t blame Y/N, Dad. Ms. Murphy’s an amazing cook,” Isaac tried.

Mom scoffed. “It’s all that cooking that made her fat.”

The room was silent for a moment. Suddenly, Dad looked both shocked and understanding as he stared at Mom, Mom was staring at a painting on another wall as she sipped her drink, and Isaac couldn’t take his eyes off the turkey dish in his hands.

I could feel the ball begin in Younger Me’s throat and the tears burned in her eyes as she tried to keep herself together.

“Y/M/N,” Dad admonished.

Mom cut her gaze towards him. “Don’t use that tone with me. Unlike you, I care for our daughter’s health. It’s especially important considering her abilities and we have no idea how obesity could impact them!”

Dad set the turkey dish down and Isaac started nibbling on some mac and cheese. “Don’t do that, I care about Y/N’s health. She has made a lot of progress thanks to my encouragement.”

Mom rolled her eyes. “Oh, you’re saying that like the dance lessons that I paid for had nothing to do with it?”

“Oh yes, Y/M/N, only your contributions supported our daughter. When will you stop acting like you’ve financially supported our children this entire time? Don’t forget who gave you the money to start your agency.”

If looks could kill, Dad would have been dead a long time ago. Mom threw her head back and drained the last of her glass. When she set the glass down, she maintained a neutral expression.

“You can stop throwing that in my face now, Y/D/N; I’m the one who grew it without your or anyone else’s help!”

They went back and forth for a few more minutes and I watched Younger Me’s mind race.

Finally, she interrupted, “Did I tell you that I got all As for the semester?”

The statement made Mom and Dad pause and they relaxed a little.

“That’s wonderful, Y/N,” Dad praised.

“That’s my little sister,” Isaac added with a grin. “Have you solved any cases recently?”

Younger Me grinned. “Well, there’s this one murder that happened out in Cincinnati; a woman was found in a dumpster horribly attacked. The police think it’s a one-off but, that makes no sense since it matches the MO of several other murdered women who were found in the state.”

“What’s the MO?” Isaac asked, sipping some pinot noir.

 That was when I noticed that there was something different about Isaac’s eyes. The light brown orbs looked slightly more playful than usual, almost mischievous.

“Oh, she was bludgeoned to death with a blunt object and raped post-mortem,” Younger Me rattled off.

“Y/N, we are eating,” Mom said slowly.

Younger Me hesitated. “Sorry, Mom, I was just answering Isaac’s question.”

“You’ll get better at reading situations, hon,” Dad assured.

Mom shook her head and started stabbing at some greens on her plate. “I don’t recall having this issue with Isaac.” She glanced warmly at him. “You were always so polite and well-mannered.”

“I was well-mannered,” I huffed.

Isaac smiled sheepishly. “It’s different for different people. Y/N will be fine.”

Younger Me nodded slightly but I knew she was trying to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks.

“I hope so. You know, Vought is merciless about who they select to represent them. With every B-list hero in my agency, they are trained to hell in PR. There can be no mistakes, Y/N, not if you want a future as a supe.”

Younger Me nodded. “Yes, Mom.”

After a few moments where the only sounds were cutlery hitting the plates, Ms. Murphy stepped into the dining room. The portly older black woman rubbed her hands on the towel attached to her apron.

“Pardon me but, dessert is about ready. Should I have the table cleared?” Ms. Murphy asked.

Isaac stood. “It’s alright, Ms. Murphy, I’ll clear the table.”

“Isaac, there’s no need, we have people for that,” Mom insisted.

“It’s okay, I’m happy to help.”

Ms. Murphy nodded and shot a glance in Younger Me’s direction before slipping back into the kitchen. Isaac gracefully collected his plate and started going around the table, collecting ours.

“What a polite boy I have,” Dad complimented, playfully punching Isaac’s arm as he past.

“Despite all that success you’re so humble,” Mom added. “Remember this when you start to get big, Y/N.”

Younger Me nodded and once Isaac was at the kitchen door, she stood. “I’ll go help with dessert.”

Neither of them responded as she trailed behind Isaac, and I trailed behind her. The kitchen smelled like pecan pie and my mouth watered. Ms. Murphy was fantastic at her job, but no one could do desserts like her. She claimed that the secret was that she used full-fat everything.

“A growing girl like you needs that,” she quipped once.

In one corner of the room, Ms. Murphy was adding the finishing touches to the immaculate pecan pie perched on a silver server. Isaac set the dirty dishes on the counter and opened the dishwasher. I decided the island was the best position since it gave me a good view of the two of us and kept me at a decent distance.

“Let me help you,” Younger Me insisted.

Isaac paused and nodded. “Sure, sis.”

“I’m gonna go take this out to your folks,” Ms. Murphy said, pecan pie in hand. She leaned down to Younger Me. “You eat as much of this as you want.”

Younger Me smiled softly as the older woman disappeared into the kitchen.

“It’s really good to have you home, Isaac,” Younger Me commented as she handed Isaac plates.

“You keep saying that,” Isaac joked.

“It’s true. It’s like before when you’re around,” Younger Me said.

Isaac tensed a little but continued loading the dishes. “So, how have things been since I was gone?”

“Horrible,” I stated.

At that time, Mom and Dad cooled off from World War III which was their divorce but they still fought every time they saw each other. Even though Dad moved out a while ago, they would still see each other for my dance recitals, cheer events, or awards ceremonies. And whenever one of them dropped me off with the other, the tension made me sick but the worst part was how they bad-mouthed each other.

They both said things that no daughter should hear about her parents.

“Fine, things have been fine,” Younger Me lied.

I could have cried for her as she fidgeted with a plate. At the time, I didn’t want to burden Isaac since all the phone calls and text conversations we had were so positive. He was doing important work and I didn’t want to complain. But at the same time, he had to know things were bad.

“That’s good to hear,” Isaac replied. “I want to make sure my little sister’s okay.”

Then, Younger Me hesitated and handed him a plate. She bit her bottom lip and several moments past before she said, “Actually, sometimes, things get really, really bad. They both say some things that I hope they don’t mean and sometimes, I know what’s coming but it still freaks me out.” Younger Me shrugged. “Sometimes, I wish I could escape far away from here, like you did.” As innocent as the words were, little did I know at the time that it would be enough to set Isaac off. He straightened from loading the dishes and closed the dishwasher door stronger than he had to. When he turned to Younger Me, the pleasant expression he wore all night disappeared; his jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed.

“You think I escaped?” he asked slowly.

Younger Me blinked and the realization of her words poured over her. “Isaac, I didn’t mean----”

“You think I took that job so that I could run away? It was a fantastic opportunity, and I would have been an idiot not to take it!” he hissed.

Younger Me flinched and I gritted my teeth. “No, it’s great, Isaac, really. We’re all so proud of you and you’ve been doing so much great work. I just meant that it must be nice to get away.”

“I would never want to get away from my family. Adults fight sometimes, Y/N, grow up.”

Isaac’s words stung against my face and I clenched my fists as Younger Me fumbled for words. As Younger Me pled more and more with Isaac, my anger grew.

“I’m sorry, Isaac, really. It’s okay, everything’s okay, don’t worry about us,” Younger Me insisted.

I scoffed. “Nothing was okay, and you had to know that.”

Then, Isaac’s gaze left Younger Me’s and burned into mine. “Stop overexaggerating, Y/N. You never went crazy and you got into the special supe school; you’re doing just fine, it couldn’t have been that bad.”

It was hard to tell whether Isaac’s tone or his insistence on being right was the nail in the coffin but I didn’t care as I charged around the island and stood in front of Younger Me.

“Are you kidding me? I had a million anxiety attacks, and I could barely sleep. No one noticed, though, because I almost killed myself keeping up good grades and trying not to eat too much because Mom and Dad would comment,” I snapped.

Isaac hesitated. “Like I said, though, you’re doing fine now.”

“I’m not fine!” I exclaimed. “I never was but I couldn’t show that because someone had to be the adult in this house. I still don’t understand how you all thought that was okay when it wasn’t.” I scoffed. “Wait, I have an idea, maybe it’s because perfect little Doctor Isaac couldn’t be burdened with the fact that he abandoned his little sister in hell!”

“I didn’t abandon you, it was a good job!” Isaac argued.

The laugh that erupted from my chest was spiteful and it had no joy or air in it. Then, I couldn’t stop laughing, to the point that I doubled over. Isaac must have thought I had lost it but I didn’t care as I straightened up.

“What are you laughing about?” he asked, frowning.

“You could have gotten a surgeon job anywhere in the country and you’re telling me the best offer was ten thousand miles away? You graduated at the top of the class, you had to have other offers.” I huffed. “I had to be so deep in denial but I knew, I had to know. But what does it matter as long as you’re still the favorite.”

“I’m not the favorite; you’re the one they made a superhero,” he defended.

“Please, Isaac, they think I’m a freak at worst and a profitable freak show at best. They never criticized you, they only ever did that with me.” I sniffed and looked up at him. “By the way, why didn’t you ever tell them that I wasn’t fat?”

Isaac hesitated. “What?”

“You were in school for, what, ten years and you became an expert on the human body and health. You could have stopped them from tormenting me about food and my body, but you didn’t. Why did you never defend me?”

His silence almost sent me into another fit of mad laughter, that and the stunned expression on his face. The giddiness and rage that flowed through my veins was almost dizzying as I stared at Isaac. I didn’t blink for so long that his face began to blur. Then, my legs started moving and I wandered around the state-of-the-art kitchen.

“You were always better at this than me-----the performing. It must have been easy coasting as an only child and every gold star, and every A was praised.” I paused and poked at the pot of greens. “They were happy back then.”

“Y/N, you’re talking crazy,” Isaac insisted.

I shook my head. “No, I’m not. All the overthinking and overanalyzing finally helped me realize the truth: you all hate me. No matter what cases I solved, how well I did in school, or how much weight I lost; it was never good enough.” Isaac was silent and I think it was the first time he didn’t know what to say. It was okay because I knew exactly what to say.

“This whole time, I thought that I had to earn people’s love and that if I just worked hard enough, I could get Mom to call me pretty or Dad to post a picture of us without trying to spite Mom.” I finally made eye contact with Isaac. “You made me think that I was broken.”

Then, the kitchen door swung open behind me and Mom and Dad entered the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” Mom asked.

“We heard yelling,” Dad added.

I smiled as I turned to them. “You all made me think I was worthless unless I was perfect. I thought I was going to die so many nights because I made one mistake in an essay or lost a friend because my powers creeped them out. But none of you cared.”

None of them spoke and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear any of them. All they could do was lie since I finally realized their true feelings.

My family hated me.

None of them ever really loved me.

My vison blurred as I tried to make eye contact with them again. “How could you think I could end up perfect when you all screwed me up so bad? You make me question myself so much that I’m not even sure what I want anymore.”

I could feel the sobs coming on but I willed them to stay at bay for a moment.

“I’ve met a lot of amazing people at Godolkin, crazy, talented people. But two of them stand out. One of them is this standoffish bigender person who always has a comeback but is actually the kindest person I’ve ever met. The other one is this amazing girl who can see the brighter side of things no matter what, even when people betray her.” I sighed. “And I like both of them, I want to be with both of them, and I don’t know what any of it means and as much as that terrifies me, I’m so happy that I met them.”

They must have all been stunned but I couldn’t focus on them as my chest felt lighter but my throat constricted and I could feel my heart rate pick up. I slowly walked away from the oven and back to my original spot at the island. My hands crept onto the marble counter and I realized that my knees were wobbling.

“You know what’s funny, Isaac?”

Isaac jumped but eyed me.

“If you wanted to abandon me, you didn’t have to go to another continent. Mom and Dad managed to do it and I saw them every day.”

Then, the sobs broke from me and I pressed my hands to my mouth, trying to shove them back in but there was no point. My shoulders shook as I slipped to the ground, the pain barely registering to my brain as I hiccupped into my hands. The tears were hot as they ran down my face and everything hurt so bad and felt so good at the same time; it was like an emotional massage.

Everything that I thought and felt was finally out in the open and none of it was even real.

For a second, I thought a toddler was wailing at the top of their lungs but I almost started laughing again when I realized it was me.

This was it; I was going to be stuck in Cate’s head forever; alone and with nothing to show for it.

The first thing I noticed was something warm against my back. The second was a pair of strong arms wrapped around me. The grip was firm but non-threatening like the owner wanted me to know they were there. The third thing I noticed was Marie’s brown eyes staring back at me as she knelt in front of me.

I paused in my sobbing and sniffled. “Ar-are y-y-you r-r-real?”

“Yeah, I’m real,” she assured.

Her words made me freeze and I started trying to wipe my face, but Marie carefully grabbed my hands. Her thumbs rubbed the top of my hands, and I could feel my sobs slowing down.

“H-h-how’d y-y-you g-get h-here?”

“We found you and Cate and somehow got transported into her head,” Marie explained.

I sniffed, wincing at my congested nose.

“We got to go through a lot of memories, freshie,” Jordan mumbled behind me.

I tensed in their grip and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Andre standing off to the side. He glared at my family with so much malice that my parents cowered next to Isaac.

I gasped. “Th-this i-is s-so embarrassing. H-how m-much of t-that d-did y-you hear?”

“We heard everything you told your brother,” Andre stated.

Marie placed one of her hands on my face. “Breathe, Y/N, you’re hyperventilating.”

It took a couple of minutes, but I managed to even my breathing and once I did, I felt like shrinking away from her and Jordan.

“I can’t believe you were going through all this and never said anything,” Jordan muttered.

I shrugged. “How could I? You, Andre, Cate, Luke, Marie, and everyone in Si Chi are perfect. If I was going to be accepted, I had to be perfect but now you all know that I’m a mess.”

Marie grabbed my other hand again. “Everyone’s a mess; it doesn’t mean something is wrong with you.”

“If we’ve learned anything by wandering around in Cate’s head, it’s that everyone’s a mess,” Jordan mentioned.

I shook my head. “Don’t say that to try to make me feel better.”

“I’m not.”

Jordan quickly rattled off everything they saw: from Cate and Indira meeting to Andre and Cate cheating to Jordan knowing about Brink drugging Luke to Marie killing her parents. Even though he was brief, everything hit an emotional nerve and it almost shook me back into being myself.

“So don’t act like you’re special or anything, we’re all screw-ups,” Jordan concluded.

“And just so you know, I don’t think that you liking me and Jordan makes you weird or bad,” Marie confessed.

At her words, I jerked my head back to Jordan. “You told her?”

“No, you said it while you were yelling at your brother!” Jordan exclaimed.

My face warmed at the realization, and I groaned as I buried my head into Jordan’s shoulder. This day could not have gotten any worse.

“Wait, you told Jordan before you told me?” Marie asked.

“I was going to tell you but then I got sucked in here,” I murmured.

Marie huffed. “Well, you’ll both have to make it up to me once we get out of here.”

Wait, both?

Marie couldn’t be serious; it would be impossible for her to agree to any of this. It didn’t make any sense, none of it did. That didn’t stop my heart from pounding faster though as I leaned away from Jordan’s shoulder to look at her.

Before I could say anything, Jordan and Marie both helped me to my feet.

“We’ll talk about this later, okay?” Jordan offered.

“Uh-huh.”

At that moment, Andre approached my family and they tried to scramble away from him.

“You should all know that Y/N is the best thing to come from you shitty people. If I see you outside of here, we might have some problems,” Andre threatened.

“Please, don’t hurt us,” Mom begged.

It was hard for me not to laugh as Andre slowly backed away, flipping them off as he went. I laughed a little as he came closer to us.

“Thanks, Andre,” I said.

“No problem. Does anyone know how we get out of here?” he asked.

“We have to find Cate; I saw her briefly earlier but I haven’t been able to find her since,” I admitted.

“If you found her once, you can find her again,” Jordan said.

“Not unless I find you.”

In an instant, my mom’s dining room turned into Cate’s dorm, complete with green accents and comfortable furniture. She sat on her bed, eyes bloodshot and downturned. Marie was the first to approach her and Jordan and I trailed behind her.

“Cate, I’m so glad we found you,” Marie said.

“You have to wake up,” Jordan added.

Cate shook her head. “I don’t want to. You all can wake up but I’m going to stay here.”

Marie frowned. “You’re going to die? But, there’s so much we can do once we’re out of here.”

“Yeah, we can expose what’s going on at the school but we need your help,” Jordan insisted.

No matter what anyone said, Cate remained unresponsive. Both Jordan and Marie tried to reason with her while Andre snapped at her for everything that happened. All I could do was watch and wonder if her behavior made sense. In a way, her entire world fell apart and she’d exposed everything in all of us. She must feel alone but what did she think would happen?

How could she incense me and make me feel sorry for her at the same time?

Finally, I stepped over to her and bent down so that we were eye to eye. “Despite all the psychological torment I experienced in here, all I can think about is what else you haven’t told us.” I swallowed. “Because I have a really bad feeling that if Shetty used you like this, she would use me too.”

“No, Y/N, Indira wouldn’t do that.”

“She’s been in your head since you were a kid, Cate, it would make sense that she would go after Y/N too and you wouldn’t notice it,” Jordan pointed out.

Cate hesitated and then looked at her gloved hands. “This is all my fault.”

“You can make it right but not if you stay in here,” Marie said.

I didn’t know how much time had passed as Cate mulled over her options. All I knew was as she was deciding, my heart continued pounding in my ears as the lightning cracked above our heads. My hands shook as the cracking got louder and louder.

Then, it stopped.

[azaracyy]

to the next stage of our adventure! digimon survive week 2024 day 7: post-game / future personal thoughts under the cut - less about the artwork and more about shuuji and lopmon themselves. a long rambling containing major spoilers and heavy topics. will cause whiplash. proceed with caution.

other than the fact this may be boring and long-winded, cw and tw: there will be mentions of self-harm and suicide. if these topics make you uncomfortable, please step back. if you're sure, then alright. i'm aware this is a weird place to ramble about shuuji and lopmon considering the notorious highlight of their story would match the themes of day 5 (villains) and day 6 (dark & loss) better. unfortunately (ironically?) i never planned to feature them for those days, so... pretty sure i'm not the only one feeling this, but when i discovered that a good part of the fandom seems to loathe shuuji with utmost passion, even after they claimed to have completed the game, i was confused. the way his death happened and (understanding) the cause made me uncomfortable for a while, but never drove me to the point of hate... once i recovered from the initial shock, what i felt towards him was more pity, then respect (on truthful route). i feel shuuji should have been one of the most appreciated characters in survive. yet it was the opposite that happened. (between you and me though, knowing there was this discourse with the fact digimon survive is a visual novel, i'm not that surprised it turned out this way...) from my point of view, lopmon evolving into wendimon then killing shuuji symbolizes suicide, the act of taking one's own life. it was the climax of shuuji's mental breakdown, leading him to basically self-destruct, causing damage to everyone around him and ultimately himself. lopmon evolved, just like he hoped. but failed to do it like other kemonogami partners (maintaining control of themselves and fending off enemies). the next and final outcome was death, through his own partner actually eating him alive too. it reminds me how when someone thought they have prepared well for something important yet it failed spectacularly, the devastation and frustration would eat them in the same way from inside. and they probably would for one second think, "i'm better off dead". the more i pondered about it, the more it hit home, so of course, the last thing i could do is hate him, when his struggles sound similar to my own - having to rely on consistent achievements to prove your value, to feel you are worth living and not a waste of resources. the part where shuuji went all abusive on lopmon felt like the equivalent of pushing yourself to the extreme to reach your goal, to the point of neglecting your own needs. it's like a student so absorbed in their study, sacrificing food and sleep, until their body eventually snaps and shuts down for good (...this in fact happened to one of the students at my previous workplace. she was in her last year of high school. life was just about to truly start for her when her classmate informed us of her sudden death). even in truthful route where shuuji and lopmon survive that point, things aren't immediately nice and easy for him. you can see that he still has self-doubts, and what i think is impostor's syndrome. he could be making a great contribution to the team and still put himself down for having done "nothing". i have found it interesting that artists and writers tend to be especially fond of shuuji. so perhaps it's not just the matter of one's upbringing - whether you were raised in a harsh, competitive environment and/or with family with (unreasonably) high standards so you can relate more easily to him - but also whether one can see just what every struggle shuuji and lopmon went through symbolizes shuuji's mental state. out of all survive characters, i think shuuji and lopmon pulled off this thing called "surviving" the hardest, no joke. which is why i almost always gravitate to drawing them happy because that's what they deserve :') after all this, what i also would like to say is, it's okay if a character makes you uncomfortable. it's okay if you hate a character. but never, ever bring down the character to people who like them or even consider them their favorite or comfort character. if you must, do it in your own space and only with like-minded people.

[sourpatchys]

Chapter One: Hell Hole

Time: Right before the USJ attack

Rating: nothing explicit in this chapter, though overall this story is 18+

Word Count: 1k

Summary: To learn how to love after years of loathing— the very concept had Shigaraki sick to his stomach. He didn't love you, he didn't love anyone—not even himself. In which Tomura Shigaraki, a villain in despite of anything else, learns that maybe he doesn't hate everything after all.

A/N: Same drill as my other ongoing story! This first chapter is just a stepping stone to create some solid groundwork for future chapters, it may be short but the story cannot stand without it <3

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. You were supposed to be dead— a pile of dust in some dark alleyway where no one would think twice to look.

But you were alive, perfectly healthy and put together, staring at a sticky unwashed bar table just wishing— praying — that the floor would swallow you whole.

Disoriented couldn't even begin to explain the way you were feeling. You were nauseous, your skin was clammy and cold, a million thoughts were swirling through your head and you couldn't focus on a single one.

You were afraid to look up— hell— you were afraid to breathe too deeply without permission. No one was speaking, the only noise you could hear was the fast arrhythmic thumping of your own heart against your bruised ribs. The only concept you were able to hold onto was a single word, and even that was caught in your throat, unable to be spoken against the humid air— why? Why did this have to happen to you?

It was as if the world itself was mocking you, challenging you to try again— to go big or go home. You wanted neither.

Suddenly someone's throat was cleared, a gesture meant to grab the attention of the patrons, though you refused to look, afraid of what you might see.

"Tomura, what plans do you have for this girl?"

The voice belonged to the shadowy man behind the bar, you could feel his eyes on you as he spoke— it made your skin crawl.

"Does it matter?"

This voice was familiar, scratchy and untamed— it belonged to the man who had brought you here— the one who had tried to kill you not even a full hour earlier.

"I suppose not. I was hoping to understand the bedding situation, if she's staying I'll be needing to clean the storage room."

"Whatever."

The thought of staying in this disgusting place made you wish you would've died. It was awkward and stuffy, tense and so, unbearably quiet. Your body was in extreme amounts of pain, and you somehow doubted anyone within range cared enough to offer their assistance.

Sounds of shifting feet and clanking glass solidified your fears— you were going to be staying in this hell hole whether you liked it or not.

—

With nothing to focus on, minutes felt like hours and seconds left like decades— it was if your life force was being sucked out of your body bit by bit.

Usually, in movies or books there would be a clock ticking away in the background— a solid reinforcement that time was moving and the world hadn't ended. Unluckily enough this was reality and you were stuck clinging to yourself instead of abstract coos and ticks— not even your own breathing was loud enough to distract you from the overwhelming sound of silence.

You had almost forgotten Shigaraki was still with you— trying your hardest to lose yourself in make believe, pretending that this wasn't happening.

"Why didn't my quirk work on you."

His voice was demanding, seething and full of venom. It was an understandable question, even if it was disguised under something much more dangerous and lethal. It didn't seem as if he was used to not getting his way.

"I don't know."

It was an honest answer— choked out from your burning throat. You'd seen the horror that came from his hands. Cold, calloused and lethal weapons of destruction. When he'd touched you, you had made peace with the fact that you were going to die, that the world no longer had space for you and he was simply cleaning up the mess.

You could still feel of his fingers gripping your throat— and then your face, and then your arm and your leg. All he'd managed to accomplish was destroying your favorite jacket and turning your leggings into frayed shorts. If anything you were more confused than he could ever be.

"Bullshit. What's your quirk?"

Now this was hilarious, you weren't sure if it was the absurdity of it all or the pain finally turning your brain into mush— but you laughed. Giggling up a storm to the point your eyes were watering and your stomach felt as if it would collapse.

The stool Shigaraki was sitting on made a screech as he stood, marching towards you and grabbing the collar of your stained shirt forcing your face towards his in a frenzy.

"What's so fucking funny?!"

Without the fear holding you back, you found yourself looking into his striking vermillion eyes, small hiccups of laughter still spilling from your chest as you found the words to say.

"I'm registered Quirkless."

He threw his hands off of you, tossing your body back into the sticky unwashed counter. Looking at his face, devoid of the threat of dying, he looked like a pouting child. His brows were furrowed, his bottom lip was stuck in a pout between his teeth, and his hair was frayed in every direction, as if he had only just rolled out of bed. A distant part of you wondered how a man so slimy and unforgiving had become such a fuss in the world today. Though a much larger and present part of you knew, if he had wanted you dead, you wouldn't be sitting here right now.

In a shaky voice, one that made your bones tremble and your ever unceasing nausea to come back full force, he spoke once more. "You aren't leaving."

He was hunched over, his face now hidden under the turquoise locks that had framed his face only moments before. You felt sick again, the fear steadily creeping back into your skin as you looked away from his trembling body.

You wanted to take it back, to lie and make up some make believe quirk, just to see if maybe you could leave. To go back to your stupid 9-5 and forget this had ever happened. Realistically, you knew that wouldn't happen— Shigaraki had you in his grasp, like a snake strangling its prey.

Next Chapter

[ghostinthegallery]

I have thoughts about the epilogue to The Infinite and the Divine, which should not be surprising as I don't think I've found a single person around here without thoughts about the epilogue to The Infinite and the Divine. Spoilers below

Because initially yeah, I hated it! We came so far, did so much, and in the end it didn't even matter. Trazyn and Orikan are immediately back to their old ways, Trazyn is feeding a ctan shard WTF?? No mention of the battle they just fought together, right back to normal hatred and poor decision making. It really felt like the book was done and the epilogue got tacked on just to make sure everyone knew the status quo still reigned because dang it we have plastic to sell here! (I don't know if that at all reflects reality, but that is how it felt)

BUT! Concerns of capitalism aside, I think there is actually something to this epilogue and it's pretty damn tragic if you meet it where it's at.

Because necrons lost something when their souls got eaten but it isn't entirely clear what that thing was. There's some element of loss of creativity and artistry, but necrons still have plays (ungodly long historicals but still...it's theater). Multiple necron characters compose music and poetry, they just suck at it! So what if what they truly lost was their ability to change themselves in the fundamental ways that would keep them from repeating these destructive patterns? Because a machine can't grow in the way a being with a soul can.

What if that is why Szarekh is working with the same guy who built the biotransference furnaces to do biotransference again but in reverse this time. Why Anrakyr just wanders the galaxy gaining and losing resources while ignoring his own world? What if that's why Djoseras couldn't change while he watched his family and kingdom fall apart? Why Oltyx couldn't accept what he was (or make a good decision to save his life) before going through some...extreme lengths. All of them want to change their circumstances but what if the thing that was taken from them was the ability to ever do that?

So yeah, Orikan and Trazyn would obviously be happier if they could passionately make out cool off their rivalry, but can they? Can they make the fundamental shifts they'd need to bridge the gaps that made them hate each other in the first place? Hell, even if they did, would it be enough to overcome millions of years of violence? Because that's the second point I think the epilogue makes. As incredible as their alliance was, it was a blink of an eye on the grand scheme of things. How do you remember one instance (even one century) of cooperation, when you have millions of years of hatred behind you?

I definitely don't like the epilogue, maybe it was shameless status quo resetting, but damn if it doesn't get me the more I think about it.

Shoot I made myself sad...

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super Movie 1: Broly (2/3)

Well, enough of that flashback stuff. Let's move on to the present.

So after the destruction of Planet Vegeta, uh all of Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, and Dragon Ball Super happened. This is kind of a weak point for this movie, because it's story is rooted in Goku's origin tale, but the climax takes place when Goku's a middle-aged man, so a lot of lore has happened in between. There's a similar thing going on when Raditz and Frieza show up in DBZ, and when Broly made his debut in the 1993 film, but Goku was 24-30 in those stories, so it wasn't quite as big a strain.

The thing is, the stuff we had to skip over was extremely important, and the movie simply can't go over all of it. If someone who knew nothing about Dragon Ball watched this thing, they would probably think that this is a story about Goku and Vegeta trying to avenge their people by defeating Frieza, except that already got dealt with in 1991. Goku, Vegeta, and Frieza have each been killed and resurrected... twice. This movie doesn't have time to explain all their baggage, much less how Goku and Vegeta became pals. So no one even tries to fill in the audience on who this big purple cat man is. You either saw Battle of Gods or you just have to roll with it.

And you know what? Good. No one was there to explain Ox King or Mr. Popo to me when I first got into this thing. I've been watching this stuff for a quarter century, and I still don't know what the fuck Tien's third eye is all about. Context is for the weak.

Anyway, this scene takes place on a private island Bulma bought some time ago. She had a resort built here so Goku and Vegeta could spar without damaging West City. And the food is good, so Beerus and Whis tagged along, although neither of them really have any impact on the plot at all. Whis asks Goku why he wants to get stronger, and Goku explains that he's feeling inspired after the recent Tournament of Power arc from the tail end of the DBS anime. Vegeta, on the other hand, is only concerned with Frieza, who was restored to life during that storyline. Frieza's more powerful than ever before, and Vegeta expects him to get even stronger and menace the Earth again.

Sure enough, Bulma gets a call from Trunks as Capsule Corp, who informs them that Bulma's collection of Dragon Balls and the Dragon Radar have been stolen by goons wearing Frieza Force uniforms. But the joke's on them, because Bulma only had six of the Dragon Balls collected. The seventh is on the Ice Continent, so they know exactly where to go to intercept the thieves. Beerus doesn't want to tag along for the trip, so Bulma leaves her infant daughter Bulla with Beerus.

So what was Bulma planning to wish for? She admits that she was going to ask Shenron to make her look five years younger. Why only five? Because if she got too young all at once, people would think she had work done.

So what does Frieza plan to wish for? Immortality was what he wanted on Namek, but not this time. No he only wants to grow about five centimeters taller. Why not just use his second or third forms to be tall? Because he wants to be taller in any of his forms. Why only five centimeters? Because he wants it to seem like he's still growing.

I've never been too happy about this gag. I mean, it's a good gag, but I liked it better the first time, when Commander Red planned to use the Dragon Balls to make himself taller. It does add some complexity to Frieza's character, though, since he's not just stubbornly trying the exact same routine that got him wrecked on Namek, and then killed on Earth, and then re-killed on Earth again.

This time, he's not trying to take the Dragon Balls by force, because he knows Goku and Vegeta are too powerful to challenge head-on. So he's using stealth instead. The minions he sent to Earth are weaker guys, which mean Goku and Vegeta wouldn't sense their ki. And it seems like Frieza's plan is to just sneak down to Earth, make the wish, and head out before anyone can stop them.

And he's not pursuing the same wish he had twenty-odd years ago. Really, Frieza was never that interested in immortality in the first place. He only decided to wish for that because it was the one thing he didn't already have. But now he's been dead twice over, and that's given him a new perspective on life and death, and he seems to think being unable to die would be similar to the unending torment he experienced in hell. Neither does he seek an invincible body. I'm not sure Shenron could give him greater strength, but Frieza feels that would take all the fun out of "the game". If nothing else, it's interesting to see Frieza consider this at all. Back in the Namek Saga, he never thought about wishing for greater power, because he believed he already was the strongest in the universe. Now that he knows otherwise, he seems fairly content with that.

Meanwhile, we meet the last two players in this drama, Leemo and Cheelai. They're operatives in the Frieza Force, but they're not warriors. Leemo's been with the Frieza Force from the beginning, and Cheelai's a recent recruit, having joined up to avoid the consequences of stealing a Galactic Patrol ship. Their orders are to find more warriors to join the Frieza Force, since their ranks are pretty threadbare. Remember, when Frieza destroyed the Saiyans, they made up half of his fighting force. The other half was still quite formidable, but all of his best troops ended up getting killed during Frieza's disastrous invasion of Namek. Then Frieza came back and tried to attach Earth in Resurrection F, and he brought like a thousand soldiers with him, and those guys all got killed as well.

As Cheelai observes, Frieza is down to women and old men like herself and Leemo. There just aren't many warriors available in the universe these days, because all the good talent got killed off a long time ago. As they discuss this, Leemo picks up a distress signal from Planet Vampa. Thinking their might be a reward for it, they head over to answer the call, and find...

Paragus! Also a bunch of alien monsters. Fortunately, Paragus isn't alone...

They also find Broly on Vampa, and he's all grown up and stronger than ever. Their scouters measure Paragus' power level at 4200, which isn't too impressive these days, but it's way better than anything the Frieza Force has at the moment. And Broly's power is too high for the scouters to measure, so they definitely want him to come along. On the way to Frieza's ship, Cheelai feeds Broly rations and takes a liking to the big guy.

When the four of them report to Frieza, Paragus explains that he had to cut off Broly's tail because of the frequent full moons on Vampa, which cause Broly to lose control of himself as a giant ape. Occasionally, Broly still loses control of himself anyway, but Paragus can rein him in using...

... a shock collar, which he can activate with a remote control. Leemo and Cheelai are horrified to learn of this, but not so horrified that they turn down the generous reward Frieza gives them for their discovery.

Now, one thing that always bugged me about this movie is that Frieza immediately starts making plans to use Broly against Goku and Vegeta. He wasn't planning to attack them this time around, but now that he has Broly on his team, it seems much more favorable. Later, when the fighting starts, Frieza is disappointed to find that Broly can't transform into a Super Saiyan, but why would he expect Broly to be able to do any of that? Sure he's a Saiyan, but Goku and Vegeta have mastered power levels far, far beyond what other Saiyans have ever dreamed possible.

But I keep forgetting that Frieza can sense ki these days, the same way Goku can. Back in the Namek Saga, Frieza had to rely on scouters like the rest of his goons, but when he trained to become Golden Frieza in Res F, he learned to sense energy. So when he sizes up Broly, he's not just guessing at how strong this guy is. He can actually perceive the untapped potential in Broly's body, and he seems to recognize that Broly would be capable of giving Goku and Vegeta a hard time. So it makes sense.

Anyway, Paragus is happy to cooperate, since he still despises King Vegeta for what happened, and he's down to attack Prince Vegeta to even the score. And Broly has to do whatever Paragus wants or he gets another shock.

Later, Cheelai tries to get to know Broly better, but Paragus forbids Broly from speaking. While they argue over this, another henchman tries to drunkenly hit on Cheelai. I really like how Leemo tries to defuse the situation here. He's not a fighter, so it suits his character that he'd try to employ a nonviolent solution, like offering to buy this guy a drink. Being a noncombatant in the Frieza Force, he's probably grown accustomed to swimming with the sharks like this. But it doesn't work, and then Broly steps up to use a non-nonviolent solution, which is violence.

But Paragus doesn't want to offend his host, so he gives Broly another shock. Cheelai confronts him over this, and while she chews him out, she swipes his remote control. Then Paragus gets summoned to talk with Frieza. While he's gone, Cheelai destroys the remote, and they listen to Broly tell the story of his green fur wrap.

It's a pretty simple story. The closest thing Broly had to a friend on Vampa was one of the large green creatures on the planet. Paragus used the creature to train Broly, goading it to attack, and then having Broly dodge it. But over time, the creature became accustomed to Broly, and they became pals. But Paragus wanted the creature to be hostile, so he shot its ear off with a laser pistol to piss it off. Ever since, Broly has kept the ear and wears it as a memento of their friendship.

I like how easily Cheelai and Leemo sympathize with Broly in this movie. They're not good guys at all. Cheelai's an opportunistic thief, and Leemo's a cog in Frieza's evil empire. But they're not heartless, and Broly's story is so tragic and innocent that you can't help but feel for the guy. Leemo compares Paragus to his own rotten father, so you can tell that he can relate to what Broly is going through. And Cheelai can tell when someone's being used. Paragus can dress it up all he likes, but he's just using Broly's power to serve his own selfish interests.

Moving on, Frieza's team on Earth have located the seventh Dragon Ball, and Frieza's fleet moves in to join them for the wish-making. But Bulma, Goku, and Vegeta get their first. They probably would have arrived sooner, but Bulma wanted to stop somewhere to buy cold-weather gear. Let's just take a moment to admire her safety-yellow snowsuit. She looks like a baby duck in this thing and it's great.

Frieza confronts Goku and Vegeta and introduces Paragus and Broly. I never really noticed these guardsmen who stand by while Frieza steps out of the ship. Paragus should have gotten one of those uniforms, since that pink shower curtain he's wearing looks dumb as hell.

I mean, look at Goku. Bulma got him a sweet blue coat and he looks like a million bucks. He tries to convince Paragus and Broly to get along as fellow Saiyans, but that doesn't get him anywhere. You'd think he'd know better by now.

So Broly's rarin' to go, and Frieza sees no reason to make him wait, and it's on. Broly attacks Vegeta, and that brings us to the final leg of this movie, which we'll cover next time.

[the-reincarnated-princess]

That might be an unpopular opinion (idk) because of the narrative framing but frankly in UnOrdinary, the school hierarchy actually makes a lot of sense.

You're in a world where, at the minimum, 99% of the people have a power of some sort. While most of them have mundane powers (see Evie's flashlight, Isen's tracking ability, or what's-her-name from the beginning who could grow her hair at will and make it take shapes) or powers that are not too dangerous for their peers (Arlo's barrier, that girl who could see a few seconds into the future, Darren's "shadow" or the security guard who could sense people walking into his area), there are also extremely destructive powers.

There are kids who can become invisible (with all the abuse it can generate), there are kids who can shoot energy beams that can break walls, there are kids who can generate enough electricity to kill someone, there are kids who can freeze time and do whatever they want... there are also kids who are just stronger than everyone else or faster (Heinz, Zeke...) and there's a lot of potential for bullies to misuse their powers.

Heck, even for non bullies, a kid who has anger issues and the "right" powers could easily destroy a room or injure other kids. Sure, the answer to anger issues isn't to beat the guy into compliance to the rules.

But the hierarchy's goal, at the beginning, isn't to beat the weaker people. The hierarchy (the school one, with it's King Queen Jack system)'s goal is to have three kids, the most powerful of the school, make sure that the weaker (but still powerful) kids will stay in line and reduce bullying.

I wrote another essay about it for a video game which wasn't the point but basically in a school were the pupils might be more powerful than the teachers, be it because it's an "elite" school with middle class teachers for royalty and billionaire kids, or a "magic" school in which the teachers' magical level might be inferior to that of the kids (as in, not a school where you learn magic, but one where magical beings go) it makes sense that the kids would be supposed to regulate themselves without needing an adult to step in, since adults wouldn't be able to do much, particularly in case of fight.

So put kids in charge of it. Why?

Because telling the three most powerful kids "if you keep the rest in check, you'll get an extra credit" (or something) means also neutralizing said three kids, with promises and threats, so they are not going to be the ones wrecking havoc.

Because it teaches responsabilities to the most powerful kids. They're the ones most likely to get in trouble later for their powers, or to have great responsabilities, for example in politics, the army, or jobs where their powers might be the reason they stay alive. If they learn as soon as middle school to be the voice of reason, it might create a better society, with elite kids being taught to be aware of bullying and avoid it, future soldiers and cops taught not to abuse their power, etc

Because telling the middle level kids "hey, the faculty won't do anything for you if the higher levels decide to beat you up as punishment for bullying weaker kids" might actually work (in a fucked up way) in making them stay in line and not bully the weakest.

Basically, if the hierarchy worked the way it was supposed to be (aka not the way Arlo made it work because he tried to over-correct what Rei had messed up when he had been king) it would be the most efficient way to teach kids responsabilities, to keep the would-be bullies in line, and to protect the teachers since physical fights would be left to break to powerful kids instead of weak teachers.

The only reason it doesn't work is because UnOrdinary's society is decadent and slowly crumbling down, the hierarchy is seen as a tool of oppression even by the people who participate in it (although they see that as "yes! we can oppress people!") instead of regulation, and the government is corrupt, as well as basically every authority figure.

[melodyofthevoid]

The Crane Wives Examined: Fool In Her Wedding Gown:

Second in my Crane Wives series, first one here

The second album released, this collection centers more on love, both for ill and for good. Contrasting both the extreme highs and reliefs of love with tracks like “How to Rest” and “Icarus”, and more toxic and bitter emotions like “Tongues and Teeth” and “Back to the Ground”. If Safe Ship, Harbored was more of a mixed sea, this is intensity on every front: a hurricane. The whirlwind of love for all the beauty and pain.

Buckle in because this one is long. 

Icarus

A euphoric ending to a relationship that dragged the singer down, and now their former lover is flying away. And yet there is no resentment, as they wish for them to breathe cleaner air. There is almost joy in the singer’s voice in asking who he has become in the wake of their relationship. Now that they are free, who are they?

The orchard is the life they made together, once perhaps flourishing, but now a reminder of the one sided sacrifice it became. It wasn’t healthy, it bore no fruit, so it all burns to the ground, making way for a new life. Fire can be a destructive force, but it can also make way for new fertile earth.

There is not room for someone who doesn’t want to stay, who won’t put in the same effort. Anyone deserves to have their love returned, so the lover can fly away, he wasn’t worth keeping around. They’ve both torn what they had apart, and it’s not worth salvaging. Why lie when they can leave it be and let it rest?

The singer is flying away too, also free to soar and find new heights on their own. They’re spreading the ashes of what once was in the sun, until they fall back in love again, like Icarus.

Steady, Steady

There are expectations placed upon a couple to settle down. That one day all of the wild impulses of youth will fade into nothing more than dreams gone by. This singer sees this, hears the calls to ready herself for a quiet life of marriage. But she knows that isn’t her.

The shift in tone between the choruses and verses is the shift from quiet hesitation to wild abandon. A banjo line like a galloping horse, running for its life out on an open plane. The singer is in love, this much she knows, but the concept of traditional life and marriage is a plague, “all of our for good makes me ache to be alone”. What good is this love if forever means changing? The expectation of marriage is ill-fitting, and they’re feeling ever more constrained by it all. They challenge their love with a question.

“Are you so sure you’ve tamed me?”

Then the quiet returns, telling the singer to stay steady. That they’ll know when they’re ready. Life’s troubles and tribulations, the heat of the sun in this case, can make someone go crazy, lose all direction. But the singer says they’re ready to run, and the beat kicks in again.

The couple had talked about escaping the dead end town they’re in and moving out west, a dream that is fading by the day. The singer refuses to give up on it though, they won’t be stuck here, they won’t give up. They plead with their lover to keep up with them and run, they can’t stand the idea of staying and rotting away. At the end there’s an implicit threat, that if their lover can’t keep up, that they’ll escape on their own. It’s not their fault.

But in the end, they weren’t ready together, and the song ends on a melancholic note, fading off defeated. The wild abandon too much, and the future now is uncertain.

Easier

Getting over a betrayal isn’t a simple task, especially one where there is no closure. The singer’s lover left while they were sleeping without a word, and they’re left to pick the pieces up by themselves with no one to turn to. They wonder if they’d done the same if it would’ve hurt their partner, consumed their every thought like it does to them. The need to exact equal harm is so tempting, but useless in the end. Because it doesn’t change the fact that they were abandoned.

A change of scenery might fix things, free them from the memories hung on the walls and seeped into the soul of the house.

This house, this peace was the first and only one the singer’s ever known though, there’s so much anchoring them to this place even though it’s hurting them. What does one do in this situation?

And would being someone else make this process easier? After all, some are unaffected by these things. Some people can pick themselves up and live again. The singer just wishes it would be easier to move on. It’s never that simple though.

Logically it’d be better for them to pack up and move on. Leave this relationship in the past. But human nature is fickle, and so they stay, trying to convince themselves that it’ll get easier in time if they just ignore it and let it go.

Shallow River

A classic mourning of the love lost to another, the singer mourns a life she cannot share with a woman soon to be wed, knowing that they’ll never have a life together. The song starts with the metaphor of the red sky at morning, a warning sign of an oncoming storm. A flood is coming, a storm that threatens to swallow the singer. Her love is promised to another, a ring on her finger. She tells herself to settle down and forget the other. For her heart to be still.

Because on some level she’s furious, that her love is seemingly throwing what they had away for the stability of another, who can give her the title. Who can give what the singer cannot.

The singer then turns to her love and tells her to leave whatever they had in the past behind, let the embers flicker out and die. It’s for the best for them both. The title is dropped here, the subject the eponymous “fool in her wedding gown”. It’s heavily implied that she’s not in love with the one she’s marrying, and that this wasn’t what she really wanted. But now there’s no choice to make.

Any punishment that may come the singer welcomes, so long as her love leaves her sight and her mind. Separated forever more for both their sakes. And finally she calls her love beautiful one more time, saying that she’s “no one’s baby”, perhaps a mixed metaphor for how this marriage is loveless, and the one love she had she can no longer pursue. Forever trapped in this situation. The singer bids her farewell, telling her to keep the chains of her marriage off the ground, and to never think of her.

There does lie the question of why they split, but given the seemingly forbidden love angle, there does appear to be at least one answer. The singer is a woman, singing to a woman, A Fool In Her Wedding Gown released prior to the Supreme Court ruling that made gay marriage legal across all 50 states, so it’s possible that this was the only option that the subject had in terms of a future. Tragic, but all too real.

Strangler Fig

In nature, it isn’t uncommon for there to be relationships between beings that are unequal. Parasitic. The strangler fig is one such invader, growing over a tree and true to its name strangling out the host, sapping nutrients from it. So too is this relationship unequal and toxic, and the singer wants out.

Their partner trapped them in, building up a “kingdom” around them. Treating them carelessly and taking their options from them one by one until they couldn’t stand it anymore. They acknowledge that he can be charming but at this point his games are driving them even further away.

In the chorus the singer asks their lover to “climb me to the canopy”, like the strangler fig does. It wraps around the trunk in a spiderweb and kills the host. However the partner is using the singer, his desires will be the undoing of both of them. Perhaps not at the same time, but it will be.

After all, once the tree dies, there’s only a hollow shell of the strangler fig left behind with nothing to support it, much like this toxic partner will be left in a mess of his own making once the singer leaves and has enough. He preaches and controls the singer into a miserable life, and it makes them wonder how he’ll ever get anyone else.

The rest is a demand for autonomy and for their life back. For the effort and life they gave to be returned. They will not feed this parasite any longer and they’re making themselves clear. No more.

The Glacier House

Over time once a pair separates, changes occur. It’s inevitable, time shifts all things. People drift apart and find each other again after years and it’s hard to reconcile those differences. This pair were lovers once, and now after so long, the other is colder, more bitter. Eyes that once held sweetness are now vacant of life. Like a glacier their heart is unyielding and they’ve settled beneath its weight. The singer beseeches their ex to understand that they carry no ill will towards them, not really. But they had to leave that situation, it wasn’t healthy for them.

They tell their ex to bundle up, to try and make themselves warm even though they’re alone now. The seasons will change, things will get better, and maybe they can meet again as friends years down the line. They’re both not in a place to be near one another for better or worse.

Even though they’re resigned to bundle themselves in for now, shut away the world, shut out love, things will change eventually. They will have to heal themselves, as difficult of a journey as that may be. They made the bed that they lay in, and it’s up to them to change it, if they want that.

Tongues & Teeth

An anthem to the unapologetic, the dangerous, the wolf not bothering to wear sheep’s clothing. An unstoppable train of a song, the banjos and drums lively and bouncing. There is a cloying sweetness to the instrumentals in the quieter moments, but it’s all a ruse.

The singer is all sharp edges finely honed over the years. A mouth barbed and stinging, and that’s all they can offer. An attempt at sweet gestures, a kiss, a moment of tender affection will only end in pain for the other. They sing this with an audible grin, as if taunting the other to lean in closer if they dare.

There’s a patronizing air as if they’re patting their lover on the head, understanding that they mean well, but nothing they can do will change who they are. “I am not a vessel for your good intent”. They’re honest, if anything, they only want to break and use, be themselves no matter the consequences for anyone else. It’s a pattern, one they’re more than aware of. But if the other is fine like that? Well who are they to stop them?

But they do warn again that any preconceived notions of traditional love or idealization of them will fall through. They belittle the notion of the dreams of who she might be, knowing that her lover’s expectations will never be satisfied. Mere fantasies. Then there is a warning, saying this will fall through, a crack in the facade of uncaring glee. They’re desperate to keep their genuine feelings hidden away in a small box. Perhaps in small moments before things fall apart the other may see a glimpse of what lies beneath. But she’d prefer the blindness, it’s easier.

There’s another howling warning, as if she’s shouting to the winds that she’ll ruin her lover before she shifts to a softer tone, acknowledging that she’s ruined others before and will in the future. It’s in her nature.

Then the growl returns, warning that she’ll poison any happy thought, any good thing her lover’s ever had. Using them up and throwing them away when she’s done, but so long as they know… she’s fine with that.

It ends as wild as it starts with more howling, she’s riding off into the sunset, untamed and unchanged.

Back to the Ground

There’s not much to do once a relationship has run its course. There’s an exhaustion, a resignation like laying down to die. The singer knows that this is it, that there’s nowhere else for this transaction to go.

They’ve been shelved emotionally, collecting dust as the pair drifts apart. Yet at the same time, they carry all of the memories of what once was. The knowledge of their partner. They may be tired and worn, but as they say “there’s nothing about you I don’t know”. And with that knowledge, they confess that they know that this is coming to an end. Asking, pleading, for the breakoff to be gentle. To be given back to the ground, to be given peace.

They put all they could into the relationship, trying to make the relationship flourish. But the seeds didn’t have the right soil, or were simply doomed from the start. The relationship dies, the buds dying, the warmth and love dying, but there’s an element of grief there as well. The singer doesn’t want to let go, but has to.

There’s a callback to “The Glacier House”, as the singer says that their hearts lay under frozen soil and ice, both stewing in their misery. But the singer will escape, and only wants to be let go with grace back to the ground.

Show Your Fangs

A battle cry, a declaration in the style of an old western. Wavering like the desert heat rippling off of the sands. It is the song of a lone woman, wandering the world to find herself again. Rejecting the weight and sins of her past on a path all her own. Trying to find a new way.

She finds comfort in the night, among the stars, the light of day bringing with it a sun that threatens to burn her, and an anger that boils within. A wedding on the horizon.

And she won’t have it. She refuses to be the meek, demure bride shuffling obediently towards her fate. She is a lioness, capable and willing to defend herself at all costs. As she's run away from the wedding that was to come, defying the expectation of others. Making a makeshift tent out on her own, knowing her husband-to-be never truly understood a single thing about her. 

Once this might’ve been the end for her, making it out on her own in the endless heat, but she’s calloused and won’t give up so easily. In the face of a threat, beasts snarl and show their fangs as a warning. She is the product of all of those who came before her. Forced to live in loveless marriages and try to pass their knowledge onto the next generation in hopes that their mistakes wouldn’t be repeated. And the singer has forged weapons from that knowledge and is ready to use them. 

Showing her true self to the world. 

Once & For All

Similar to “Back to the Ground” this is a story of a relationship falling apart, but this is not a slow decay. Not a war of attrition. This is a prolonged battle, one fought on every angle and from every side. No one’s won, it’s a continuous net loss.

The singer wants to put an end to it once and for all, her anguish echoing through the other singers, showing the mutual frustration between both parties.

There’s a desperate back and forth in their relationship, one that the singer fought for, and yet they found themselves on the receiving end of the breakup. Caught off guard by the cut off. They resent that their partner walked away first, in spite of them wanting to before. What else could it be but a betrayal?

They hope that their partner will regret it, that their blood will forever stain their hands. That one day they’ll regret walking away and find no enjoyment or joy in the break-up.

At the end there’s only resignation, this song and dance too exhausting to keep up. They’ve promised themselves before that they’d walk away once and for all and yet they didn’t. The desire to leave strong but not strong enough to drive the final nail in that coffin. So they simply repeat once and for all to themselves, and wait for the inevitable. If their partner returns, the cycle will continue once more.

Canary in a Coal Mine

Is there an image as evocative as the canary in the coal mine? The small beacon of light and song in the dreary dark, singing until the fumes threaten to choke it out. A warning to the miners who rely on it to leave before the carbon monoxide kills them too.

Here, the singer is the canary, trying to be the light in the dark as both of them try to heal from old wounds. Twin open graves that threaten to bury them alive in the dark. The black air and lungs indicative of those who toiled in the coal mines and lost their years to the toxins in the ground. The singer wonders if they’re the only one keeping their partner alive when their hope is gone.

But is that all that they are? Are they like the canary, only valuable as a warning sign that things have gotten too deadly to continue? They hope that this isn’t so. In reality, miners cared deeply for the birds that brought a piece of the outside world down into the depths but the imagery is one in popular culture that stands for a sacrifice. A lesser being meant to keep another safe.

So they keep trying to keep the other afloat, willing to take whatever empty promises they’re given if it means that their songs have meaning. That is enough. But what happens when the singer has nothing left to give? When the darkness claims them? Will their lover stay? Will their love’s recovery from the trauma that clings to them both like blackened dust in their lungs mean that they’ll turn around and help them too? Or will they be abandoned. A canary who can no longer sing.

They’ll keep burying themselves in the woes and worries of their partner, and hope that even if it kills them, it’ll be alright.

How to Rest

A song of healing, of recovering after a deep and unending hurt. It’s so easy to seclude oneself away from the world. Build a fortress around the heart and let no one inside out of the sheer terror that vulnerability will lead to pain once again. Trapped in the land of regrets and fear. It’s easy to convince oneself that this is safety and shelter, but it is a prison devoid of what makes life rich and full. This “sanctuary” has no light, no ambition to grow, no person to share in the highs and lows with. In spite of all the fear, you’ll leave that castle because what you yearn for, it’s stronger.

You wanted an escape from that prison, no matter what you told yourself.

And you’re not alone, so many people vow to try to never love again after their heart is broken. That they won’t need someone else to share their lives. But they’re making a liar of themselves in a vain attempt at comfort. The desire, the all too human desire, for companionship isn’t something that one can put away and forget about. Love doesn’t know how to rest. It seeks to make connections.

There isn’t any place where one can go to shelter away from the world at large, or from one’s own emotions. They’ll act sometimes without regard for what is wanted. It’s a childish notion to assume you can hide from them forever. Acceptance is the way forward.

And then there is the thesis: the heart is a muscle with a rhythm all its own. It won’t just stop, emotions don’t just stop, whether you want it or not. Life keeps going on, the heart wants to feel again and will do what it can to make that happen. It needs to survive too. Love is the only thing worth being alive for, and vowing to cut oneself off from that is just an act of harm in the long run.

A note, I personally am aroace, and the sentiment “Love is the only thing worth being alive for” carries a different meaning for me than it might for someone else. The way I interpret it in this song is that “love” is not purely romantic, it is the culmination of care and joy one can get from friends, from family, from passions, and so on. This isn’t strictly limited to one expression of how a person can care for another. Personally I’m more agnostic on the term “love” but it’s an individual thing.

At the end of the day this song is about opening yourself up to healing and moving on from times when we’ve been hurt and wounded. Retreating to lick one’s wounds is alright for a time, but you can’t stay there forever. Go out, and find a new hope in the world. 

[pepirfecin]

A rant about Shadow’s trauma

I am sick of hearing about Maria. Okay okay, bold statement and I'm being dramatic for the sake of being dramatic, but let me explain.

 No matter how you portray Shadow, Maria will most likely be mentioned, since it’s an important part of his character, motivations etc. I think we should pay more attention to the circumstances of his grief though; the real tragedy isn’t the loss itself, it runs deeper than that (I'm not saying anything new here). Let me break it down, the way I see it.

1.) Identity loss: When someone close to you dies a part of yourself dies with them. With your parents’ death you cease to be someone’s child forever. In Shadows case it’s even more extreme: not only did he loose Maria, he also lost his purpose by failing to do the one thing he was made to do. Imagine, your entire life stripped away from you in a matter of seconds, leaving you with absolutely no point to even exist. With his now non-existent purpose and identity as a whole he became a blank slate for someone else's revenge, a vessel powered by sorrow. Most likely only Maria saw her as a person on the ARK, so what is he with that one singular column gone? A weapon, a tool of destruction, the Ultimate Lifeforms made to destroy the planet. 

2.) Closure: When your abuser(s) die it’s a strange feeling. The person/people who made you miserable are finally gone, but what’s left is just emptiness. They made you the way you are, and now they’re gone, but you're still the same. He didn’t get revenge on any of those people. The fantasy of standing up against them verbally or physically (taking out years of abuse is now unreachable. So is the fantasy of it ever getting better. Now you can’t hope that someday they’ll do better. They now never will. Shadow’s left without any kind of closure in relation to his trauma he received on the ARK.

3.) Time to process: Presumably he was around 15-17 like the rest of the Sonic cast at the time of the incident. Almost immediately after seeing the most important person in his life die, he was put into stasis for 50 years. In both SA2 and ShtH 05 he woke up in a completely unfamiliar world with turbid memories, grief still fresh and pervasive. In the midst of world ending level threats constantly looming overhead in almost all games I don’t think he sat down with a psychologist and ever processed what happened. (If you age him up or make any kind of AU where he has time to deal with all this then let him process his trauma. Time heals all wounds pls let the guy leave some of his baggage behind.)

4.) Help: Childhood emotional neglect and other shit make it impossible for him to even reach out for help. Learned behaviour that emotions are not okay (to feel or show), difficulty connecting with peers, hard time asking for help, lashing out instead ect etc.

+This is why I think SA2 was a good, complete arc for him. He came to the planet with revenge and destruction in mind, a weapon that Gerald forged motivated by the immense sense of anguish. He died finally getting closure: He fulfilled his real purpose, his identity restored in some way. I like to think that he died peacefully partly because he knew his promise to Maria would continue to be fulfilled by Sonic. In the English version during the Final Hazard fight he even gave up the title he so desperately clings to in other games ‘The Ultimate Lifeform’. Unlike in other games here he doesn’t need that title and identity, it is no longer the only piece of himself that he has left, so he “offers” it for the person who he sees fit as an extension of his legacy. ("Sonic, I think I've discovered what the Ultimate Life Form is, it might be you!")

Okay all this ended up being a whole lot less cohesive than I intended and I just want to say I have more thoughts on this but I'm stupid dummy dumb dumb and can’t put it into words. (Analysing media is all fun and games until I have to explain then suddenly brain go mush.) This post is a pretty personal analysis, most of it isn’t factual in any way, I just want to provoke thoughts in others about this subject, since I often see his grief be reduced to “Maria is dead Shadow is big sad about it :(” which is fine, but there’s so much to explore. 

If you have any opinions on this, contradictory or other don’t be shy talk. I want. to hear everything. 

[deathstench]

Formed ten years ago, DEATHSTENCH released three albums and many eps.. The "Massed in Black Shadow" album was a great obscure and dangerous one..The crown of their sacrifice was their collaboration with Bon Masters Phurpa. John Paul Whetzel and Darea Plantin spells behind this interview.

“Blood Moon Divination” was your latest release. It was released in a limited amount of copies and only in Tape format. Why this choice?

We have always preferred analog releases. We view physical copies as something that should be appreciated.. Let's face it, it's the 21st century, and people do most of their listening through some sort of streaming service. If they like it, they most likely pirate it. We understand this; Our physical releases are intentionally designed for coveting.

We put a great deal of energy into each release. In our past special editions, we have included ritual accouterments that correspond with each album, such as shards of human bone and incense we made specifically for the intent to conjure with the dead.

You have released three albums. Please tell us the concept behind each one and the process of the recordings…Each release turns out to more noisy and dark forms..

To be precise it's four albums, and numerous collaborations and splits. Our releases are not in any sort of chronological order, from conception to the final product takes its own time dependant upon the haste of that particular record label. We record basically the same for each album, building upon a structured theme. Our music is built on layers of sounds from instruments, traditional and otherwise, that we record with either handheld devices or microphones connected to an audio interface which we use to record our percussion and amps.

Each track on "Blood Moon Divination" is an audial ritual recorded and released during each specific Blood Moon in the tetrad cycle of blood moon eclipses of 2014-2015. Through that span of time, these celestial vibrations were available as they were being released on several streaming platforms, including Black Metal and Brews and Repartiseraren. A tetrad of lunar eclipses is extremely uncommon. This was only the eighth of such cycles in over two thousand years. We compiled them together for a physical album that we chose to release during the first exclusive total solar eclipse the United States had seen in over two hundred years. Eclipses, both solar and lunar, are considered to be very inauspicious events throughout the world. As an omen of war, the Talmud regards "If the face of the moon is as red as blood it is a sign that the sword is coming to the world."

"N.O.X." is a transcendent four track journey that starts out violently with the lo-fi black metal track OXEX DAZIS SIATRIS, Enochian for "Vomiting The Head of Scorpions" and slowly transforms itself into a less chaotic discord that concludes with the meditative piece "Mysterivm Tremendvm". N.O.X. or "The Night of Pan", is a mystical state that represents the stage of ego-death in the process of spiritual attainment. The Greek word Pan also translates as All, as he is a symbol of the Universal, a personification of Nature; both Pangenetor, "all-begetter," and Panphage, "all-devourer". Pan is both the giver and the taker of life, and his Night is that time of symbolic death where the adept experiences unification with the All through the ecstatic destruction of the ego-self. In a more general sense, it is the state where one transcends all limitations and experiences oneness with the universe.

"Nekro Blood Ritual", our second album, was designed specifically for its cassette release and is broken into two sections: Conjuration Rites and Burial Evocation. This album focuses on conjuring the dead and the desecration of human remains. This is by far our most atmospheric album; most of the tracks are rely heavily on field recordings and stygian synthesizers to evoke the abject darkness. These songs are reminiscent to the "Incantations in Dead Tongues" era of our work. There are only two conventional (for use of a better term) songs on this album, "Nekrobloodritual" and "Desecrating The Host" the latter being a harsh black funeral doom dirge for the departed.

In our debut album, "Massed in Black Shadow" we utilize all of our influences through the years. Incorporating elements of death industrial, dark ambient, doom, and black metal, and hideously transforming and conjoining them into a writhing mass of absolute filth, a sound truly all our own. The final track, titled “Bastards of the Black Flame” can be considered a motto to us, as it is exactly who we are. The byproducts of an unholy union between some of the most violent forms of music, in both sound and ideologies.

DEATHSTENCH collaborated with Phurpa. How did this Union take form? Are you interested in the theory of empiricism in Bon Religion?

In 2012 Alexei Tegin had discovered our music from our debut album and contacted us. Both Phurpa and ourselves operate with the same meditative qualities regarding our music. Although our sound derives from different spectrums, they coalesce quite vividly. "Evoking Shadows of Death" fuses our ultrasonic vibrations and harsh atmospheres with the harmonious chants and deep, droning reverberations of their tantric voice. These two tracks are designed to help the chod practitioner tap the power of fear. This transformation does not fall spontaneously, as grace, upon the listener: the practitioner must engage in the process. One must take steps to transmute through the aural plane and, through a process in which they must actively participate, requiring utmost concentration and mental stamina. This mystical experience is achieved, not bestowed.

Empirical reasoning has no place in esoteric practices and the occult. These objects are neither phenomena (empiricism) nor human constructs imposed upon the phenomena (idealism), but real structures which endure and operate independently of our knowledge, our experience and the conditions which allow us access to them. Some things cannot be reduced down to empirical measurements.

Thanatology and satanism are your basic influences. How do you define satanism and how death in your personal path?

Deathlore has always intrigued the both of us. There is absolutely nothing more final than Death. Every single one of us will die, as Death does not discriminate. Dying, death and how human beings respond to the inevitability of their mortality and cope with the reality of loss can be viewed from a wide range of perspectives. Our intent has never been to elaborate on our practices or rituals to any audience. Even the altars we allow you to see are set up specifically for public viewing. While they are still symbolic of what we would normally produce for our own rituals, the intent isn't there. It's merely superficial. Our personal altars and rituals will always remain clandestine, as all witchcraft should be.

“Those who know do not speak. Those who speak do not know.” ― Lao Tzu

I would like to hear your thoughts and if you are into the systems of O.N.A & Temple of the Black Light in theory and praxis as Traditional satanic approach you unveil through your works . Satanism is such an elaborate construct; Atheistic, LaVeyan, theistic, there are so many paths. Satan has always been symbolic with the quest for Knowledge, of opposition to arbitrary authority, forever defending personal sovereignty even in the face of insurmountable odds. Our path cannot be defined by one simple ideology.

We have absolutely no affiliation with these groups.

Does DEATHSTENCH ever perform live?

We are very selective in our live performances. The last show was in Portland, Oregon way back in 2015 when we opened up for MGLA, Weregoat, and Sempiternal Dusk. Alan Dubin (of Gnaw, Khanate) and Billy Anderson, whom we have long collaborated with, did a sort of dueling vocals approach to our fifteen-minute audial assault on an beyond-capacity crowd. This show was recorded by Mateo from Greysun Records who also released it on his label in 2018.

Necromancy is an Old Art Like Time.Ancient Greece had deep roots also in this Subject. Are you familiar with the Ancient Greek Mysteries?

Yes, we are familiar with some of the Chthonic mysteries highlighting mortality and the briefness of life, and the spirits of the blessed dead. Though, like most true paths of esoteric knowledge, not much is truly known about the intricacies of these rituals, having been sworn to secrecy and then lost to the Sands of Time. It has been suggested that communicants would drink Kykeon infused with the psychotropic fungus ergot which helped the initiate to reach a fuller understanding of their purpose in life and to shed their fear of death and this, then, heightened the experience and helped transform the initiate. The same can be said of the Huichol in Mexico, who eat peyote at the completion of long arduous pilgrimages in order that they may experience in the journey of the soul of the dead to the underworld. Death worship and eschatology are celebrated by all cultures throughout time, most with the use of hallucinogens.

I would like to hear your thoughts on these words: “This being true for the ordinary Universe, that all sense-impressions are dependent on changes in the brain we must include illusions, which are after all sense-impressions as much as “realities” are, in the class of “phenomena dependent on brain-changes.”  ― S.L. MacGregor Mathers, Goetia the Lesser Key of Solomon the King: Lemegeton, Book 1 Clavicula Salomonis Regis

In contemporary education, the emphasis has been on the psychomotor and the cognitive, namely reading, writing, and arithmetic, at the expense of the affective, namely, the emotions, the sensual, the intuitive, and the imaginative. Priority has been assigned to the verbal-intellectual skills. Anything else tends to be shelved or boxed and put away as ephemeral, esoteric, or mystical, each of these terms being used in a pejorative sense.

Consider for a moment the human sensory system. To the scientific mind, the senses are perceived to act as a kind of data-reduction system. The problem with this concept of the senses is that we do not respond to all that is potential sensory input. Perception is quite a selective process, attending to only a small fraction of so-called reality.

To some extent, scientist or artist, everything we perceive is "illusory," since to perceive anything at all we must use our imaginative capacity for fantasy.

What can we expect from DEATHSTENCH in the near future?

We have a few albums waiting in the shadows including collaborations with Sektor 304 and LINEKRAFT, as well as another full-length album incorporating both Billy Anderson and Alan Dubin. Time is relative, and there are no promises as to when any of these releases will see the light of day.

[omori-prism-au]

omori : everlasting prism au

PLOT

an echoey void. complete white. sometimes it glows, sometimes it reflects. there are people sometimes. there are no people other times. frequently, something colorful can be seen. there may be gardens, flowers, little islands sunk into the solid nothing. maybe a city here and there. 

stairs. a sister, pushed. there is not a thud. there is nothing. she does not hit the ground.

mari finds herself having glitched into the real world, amongst actual humans. she must find a way to get back to everyone.

sunny has lost it. he doesn’t know where his sister is. people live forever here. where is she? why would he do this? 

glitching starts. maybe some things clip into each other. maybe textures are missing. maybe a few holes pop up here and there. 

it gets worse.

they’re trying to handle it. it’s hard.

OVERALL INFO

-basil was there to witness sunny push mari

-basil told the others, and although kel and aubrey got angry, they were more worried about mari

-i was somewhat inspired by the album art for hawaii part ii when i thought of the void

-when the void glitches, it turns black. this would be considered something appearing - there is no eye because mari simply disappeared. however, this something isn’t a figment of sunny’s imagination that’s purpose is to remind him of what he did. that’s what it does, though.

-when mari falls asleep in the real world, she “dreams” - but she’s not really dreaming. she goes back to the void in flickers, which causes the glitches. she tries to talk to sunny, but she’s not fast enough.

-everyone is the same age as when the incident happened. very little time has passed.

CHARACTERS

basil -

-slightly taller than his og game counterpart

-has a more serious expression

-somewhat quiet

-after mari falls he begins to wilt.

-as plants do, he depends a lot on others although he doesn’t like to show it

sunny -

-never talks

-since he can't make expressions, his body language is extremely expressive

-also the occasional tears that seem to appear out of nowhere signal he's sad (obviously

-he does Not play the violin

-after mari falls he starts visually glitching, sometimes inverting his colors.

mari -

-fun-loving

-a bit chaotic

-still very kind

-loves to sing, but can get a bit embarrassed if someone is watching

-understands what hero is thinking and feeling better than anyone else (kel is also pretty good at it though)

-once she goes to the “real world”, she appears to “regular people” as just a butterfly

hero -

-doesn't talk

-very stiff (made of glass) so he doesn't really have expressive body language

-since he has no face it's hard to understand what he's feeling

-how the fish inside of him act match his emotions though, so if you can figure that out it's a bit easier to understand his emotions

-cracks gradually mend after a bit but the glass is very fragile

-everyone has learned to be careful around him though so he rarely cracks

-however, after mari falls he begins to crack and leak. the fish start dying.

kel -

-verry talkative

-does actually have a mouth! when he opens it the stars are pushed away to make room for it

-mouth is entirely white inside

-his voice sounds like around 100 people speaking in perfect unison

-the eye on his torso is very expressive!!!!

-pretty chaotic and loud

-tries to be quieter just in case his voice gets loud enough to crack his brother

-after mari’s fall, the stars on his body begin to flicker out. new eyes open. new distractions to prevent destruction.

aubrey -

-her form just changes constantly

-the faster it changes the more excited she is

-sometimes 3d, sometimes 2d, sometimes even 1d

-hard to look straight at her

-can only repeat words she's heard before and says them in the exact voice of the person who said them. she hears a lot of things though

-loves colorful things!!!

-after mari’s fall, she begins to disappear for a few seconds before coming back. each time she vanishes, the wait is longer

COLORS

ASKS

if you want to send in asks that don't relate to the overarching plot going on right now, they'll be regarded as addressed to everyone before mari's fall. please specify if you don't want that.

text that looks like this is sunny

text that looks like this is mari

text that looks like this is hero

text that looks like this is kel

text that looks like this is aubrey

text that looks like this is basil

ask away!

[abittersweetraisin]

It hasn't been only Chloé...

Before season 5 goes cold, there are a couple of things I still want to say.  The quality of the writing has affected more than just Chloé. The thing is that it has been way more noticeable in her. And also, people tend to blame it on the characters, as if they wrote themselves.

-Marinette’s friends.

I know I’m not alone in this one. It is annoying how they love and trust Marinette one second, but then Lila opens her mouth and they distrust her right away. It’s a kid’s show, ok. But come on, that’s forcing it too much. And Alya,… please, even after she learned that Marinette is Ladybug, she still trusted more in Lila’s words. Poor Alya, she deserved better. And she seems different. I don’t know what is it. But her personality seems different. Less interesting.

-Adrien. 

I bet this section is going to be a very unpopular opinion area.  I don’t like at all how all of the sudden he just forgot his feelings for Ladybug. Just from one episode to the other his mind changed to “oh yeah, I now realize I’ve actually always been in love with Marinette”. Excuse me? Just like that? Instead of having all those filler episodes with the akuma of the day, they could had written him slowly falling in love with her. 

Something else I don’t like… It seems like in the beginning the writers thought it was funny all the kissing jokes that Chat Noir said to Ladybug. They didn’t read in time all the complains from a portion of the fandom. I hated how his behavior was labeled as a sexual harassment.

In real life if a person tells you to stop you have to stop. Yes, of course. And you don’t have to touch another person for it to become sexual harassment. But that’s the thing, Chat Noir never did any of that. He never tried to force a kiss (like Felix did). He never gave her an inappropriate look (Of course not, it’s a kid’s show. That would had been preposterous.). Yet, the fandom labeled, and I don’t remember having seen a scene where the writers tried to defend him.  No, instead we had Gladiator 2, where while he’s shielding them from an attack she just grabs him and throws him to the trash bin. But that was supposed not to be overreacting. 

-Marinette. 

She and Chloé are the opposite sides of the same coin. 

We’ve all seen how the writers have not wasted opportunity to make Chloé as evil as possible. The very same thing has been forced to Marinette, just in the opposite direction. She’s super good. She’s the protagonist, I get it. But, wouldn’t it make the story more interesting and relatable if she weren’t portrayed as so extremely good and perfect? You may be thinking “but she’s made many mistakes”. All her mistakes get easily forgiven, or erased, or justified, or left without consequences or simply used to portray her as a martyr for whom we need to feel sorry. To a certain degree that could work, but it’s been taken too far. And that’s become annoying for many of us. She was funny and endearing back in season 1 and 2.

But as the series progressed… 

You may think I’m exaggerating in what I’m saying,… Let’s see:

Chat Blanc. If she hadn’t sneaked into Adrien’s room he wouldn’t had found out, no reveal, no Chat Blanc, no destruction of Paris (and the world?). That reality, those consequences got deleted when she went back in time to erase her message. So, all good. No harm done.

Strike back. She got tricked and got all the miraculous stolen. Ok, that’s a mistake that could had happened to anyone. Still, what happened? Su-Han got on his hands and knees and apologized to her. It was his duty to help protect the miraculous, yes, but why did she need to apologize to her? If there’s a guardian superior to him, then that’s who he should had apologized to for not having taken the miraculous box back in the beginning of season 4. It should had been his responsibility to hand the miraculous to at least young adults. Back then Adrien and Marinette still had time restrictions. Ladybug’s words to Su-Han while he was apologizing: “Fine, fine but please get up. You know, everybody makes mistakes”. One would think that an adult person would know that.

There was a a brief scene in this 5th season where Plagg refers to Marinette as the best girl in the universe. It was one of the latest episodes to be released, but I can’t remember which one it was. I’ll update if I remember or if I get into the mood to go look for it.

I came across a video in youTube that was a title “Why does everyone hate Marinette now?”. It mostly dealt with the lack of consequences for her actions. In my opinion, what I find annoying is how all the characters work to put her in a pedestal. Everything twirls around her and how good she is. There was the story of the Agrestes, but nop. That was a given way less attention than how awkward she felt around Adrien. Or the plans to tell Adrien she was in love with him, etc. 

Ladybug and Chat Noir are supposed to be equals. Just alone the placement of their miraculous in Master Fu’s box highlighted that.  As someone said, when the mega akumas came up they could had said that his cataclysm would be needed to break the object, but no. 

In season 4, Marinette broke Luka’s heart. Then a few episodes later she’s talking to Luka about her feelings for Adrien. That was very insensitive of her. The writers didn’t have time to excuse her behavior in that same season, but of course they addressed that in this 5th season. In the Migration episode she brings out how insensitive it was of her to talk to him about Adrien when she had broken his heart. And what was the reply the writers wrote? “You didn’t break my heart, you enriched it”. Yeah, right, there was no scene in season 4 showing Luka devastated. And just to make extra sure the fandom understood that Marinette is super good the writers had her saying “So,… you’re saying I’m not cruel or pathetic?”. I could almost see Astruc’s face sneaking in “See people? All good!”.  This is a good example of what I mean when I say that the characters work to make her look as good asa possible.

I have read some Adrien salt complaining how he does nothing yet he receives the reward. What reward? He’s been demoted to side kick at best. Sometimes he’s a little better than a flowerpot. How many times when Hawk Moth gave his boring little speech he said something like “I will defeat you Ladybug”, completely forgetting there’s supposed to be two of them. And all season 4 he kept being ignored and replaced. That’s a reward?

Just because a character is a main one doesn’t mean that everything needs to be focused on them all the time. 

Buffy the vampire slayer. Her name is the show’s name, yet, there were episodes completely focused on other characters. There were things going on with Buffy, but the show also showed what was a going on the lives of the rest of the gang. That made it more rich and interesting.

Same for “Sabrina, the teenage witch”. The episodes were around 20 minutes long, yet they reserved time to show the lives of her aunts and of Salem.  

For obvious reasons I had hesitated to make this post. People are bound to think that I’m only writing this because I support the redemption arc that had started with Chloé. But that’s not true. I would be thinking this even if Chloé hadn’t been written in the show at all. 

By the way, it seems that the rules of making a wish have changed. I can’t help to wonder and cringe at the thought of how they’re going to handle things in season 6.

[starsurface]

Helloooo this request is extremely self-indulgent of me but. Would you be okay with writing some headcanons for regressor Rain and caregiver Havik (preferably romantic but you can do platonic if you're not comfortable with that)? Thank you so much in advance! I always love your stuff :)

Hiiiii!!! Of course I can do romantic!! I think they're a cute couple!! :D

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

CG Havik w/ Regressor Rain Hcs

💧 These two guys . . . It is really “Let’s go cause destruction!!” and “Uuuuuuuuuugh, fine 🙄”

🫀 Little Rain is much willing to do shananagians (he’s really gullible)

💧 Havik wants to pull a prank on Reiko? Okay! What are we gonna pull?

🫀 Although when Reiko comes back and scolds them for putting silly spray on his pillows, Rain does burst into tearful apoligize (don’t worry, Havik got lectured at the most since he was really behind it)

💧 Havik is a no rules, no schedule, let’s be as destructive as we can type of guy

🫀 But little Rain? He likes having a sort of schedule, whether it’s a bedtime schedule, or planning what he’s going to play soon

💧 ^ Havik doesn’t like the fact that little Rain likes a schedule, but he’ll accommodate to his babies needs, one must set aside his chaotic ways to make sure both are happy

🫀 That won’t mean he won’t try and ‘mess’ with the schedule

💧 (^ He won’t really mess with it, but sometimes he’ll try to make things more ‘fun’ or extravagant to break the cycle)

🫀 Jammies time? Great! But what if we put our pants of before we put on our shirts? :O

💧 Rain gets really whiny when Havik playfully kisses his cheeks, because either he’ll give him a small lick or a soft bite 

🫀 Naughty Dada, he can’t bite people for fun >:(

💧 However, Rain does really like forehead kisses where Havik just kinda presses his teeth (?) against his foreheaad

🫀 It's something he normally does when Rain is sad or sleepy, and it never fails to make him giggly and happier

💧 Rain was really embarrassed the first time he regressed around Havik, especially because of why he regressed around Havik

🫀 Why? Because he got really fussy and pouty that he got the wrong popsicle flavor and coulnd’t stop himself from slipping into his headspace

💧 Havik diidn’t mind, he was already use to regressors!! He watches some regressors in the Chaosrealm (although does act completely different with Rain, since they’re more desenstized to things)

🫀 Havik also got Rain his new popsicle, so no harm was done

💧 Besides, Havik could get two popsicles now!! :D

🫀 . . . Which also made Rain fussy, because he wanted two popsicles :(

💧 Havik laughed when Rain demanded to try some of Havik’s popsicle, grimmicing at the flavor

🫀 ^ Don’t worry, Havik got him a second one of his favorite flavor <3

💧 Rules? What rules? Rules are apart of a social concept that shouldn’t exist

🫀 Except that . . . Havik does learn that maybe some rules should be set in place

💧 Like Rain not being allowed to use stove in middlespace

🫀 Or maybe Rain shouldn’t be pratcicing hard big kid magic while tiny

💧 They aren’t exactly rule rules, but havik will discourage it

🫀 Havik is strong, and incredibly tall, so he likes scooping Rain up and just holding him

💧 Rain isn’t short, he’s a tall guy, but he never fails to feel tiny and shy in Havik’s arms, hiding in Havik’s shoulders as Havik cradles him

🫀 Rain likes to show off his magic skills to Havik!! 

💧 And Havik loves a good show!! Luckily one of Havik’s favorite spells is when Rain makes water and puts it into shapes (it’s an incredibly easy spell, and one Rain rarely every slips up)

🫀 Rain likes going to see the froggies, but he’s a bit hesitant to let Havik come with

💧 Havik’s a bit scary looking, and he’s loud, so he scares off all the froggies!! :(

🫀 Havik tries really hard to quiet down and act slightly calmer so Rain can watch the froggies hop for a little bit, he wants his baby to be happy after all (sometimes he messes up, but he’s trying his best)

💧 Rain’s not a baby!! He regresses to about 3-5 and middlespace

🫀 However, havik really likes playing peek-a-boo, so Rain will ‘entertain him’ (he adores it too, but he won’t tell Havik that)

💧 Havik finds Rain’s middlespace super funny

🫀 Like, there’s no reason to get all pouty and upset because Havik called him fussy??

💧 ^ Btw, he was NOT being fussy!!! >:(

🫀 Only babies are fussy!! . . . He was just upset

💧 Havik’s a little more carefree around middlespace Rain, joking and teasing him a lot

🫀 Especially because he fidns it funny when Rain whines and tries to push him away, hiding form him (Havik ruins his cool kid persona)

💧 Sometimes he takes his teases and jokes too far and has made Rain start crying :(

🫀 Havik does feel really guilty, and will apoligize and comfort his kiddo, he didn’t mean to make him cry after all

Rain really likes being praised and babied, even if he doens’t verbally say it

💧 Don’t worry, Havik always makes sure to praise him!!! Like his coloring skills, or his magic skills, or even just how pretty his baby looks

🫀 Sometimes Rain will be really proud in these compliments, other times he’ll giggle and agree, hiding his face in embarrassment

💧 Havik’s a very proud Dada, and won’t hesitate to protect Rain against others who might insult him <3

🫀 Rain isn’t a brat?? But it’s his way or the highway!! >:)

💧 . . . not really, nor does Havik follow orders from anyone

🫀 But he’ll bend slightly to whatever Rain wants (his way of showing that he loves and trusts him)

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

I think it's a cute ship (if you ignore some canon). I like to think that Rain, Havik, and Reiko (and maybe Nitara?) have a funny friendship. But a poly relationship would also be super cute. <3

[catlokis-blog]

Tell me about how Bubby also has NPD I want to hear your ramblings

alright!! there might be some moments of mischaracterization (i feel like that's not the right word but i'd be framing him differently than the intention yk?) because i haven't rewatched hlvrai for a hot second! but!! here is my bubby narcissist theory, brought to you by someone with the disorder

probably the most obvious one is that bubby is EXTREMELY self-centered and confident. to a nearly satirical degree. he's often described as "crass" or "egotistical" because he's constantly talking about himself, how good he is, & talks huge about himself because he made to be the ultimate lifeform, duhh.

but it's also been shown he has some STRONG self doubts in the extent of how "perfect" he really is in moments of weakness, it's especially highlighted during his betrayal arc (ill come back to this) once he's been brought into his tube again, but it's also even highlighted during small moments in the commentary when he would stop praising himself briefly to doubt "is my plan working?" before immediately switching back to "yess, yes, im the best"

he's also been shown to be a compulsive liar towards tommy a lot with his "classic pranks" which is a habit that can come in a lot of npd patients, usually as a form of self-preservation or some other defense mechanism. (benrey also has a similar symptom here, where his memory will rewrite events to be biased in his favor! but this isn't about him)

his short temper and somewhat bitter attitude can also be easily taken as a lack of empathy for those he doesn't consider "on his level", so to speak, noting strong disregard to anything gordon really has to worry about - this doesn't mean he doesn't have his moments, however, just that he shoves it to the side a lot

another thing about his temper - he's very destructive! narcissistic personality disorder comes hand-in-hand with destructive anger issues, usually targetted towards the thing that's causing them the most frustration, but it could also really be anything (such as the random scientists he decides to kill)

probably the thing that solidified it the most for me was the concept of the betrayal arc as a whole, though. his only reason for going with it because he was convinced that nothing was his fault - but it had to be someone's, because people with narcissistic personality disorder can really struggle to figure a "that's life" kind of thing. he immediately pointed the blame to gordon once he realized gordon had failed the experiment, and instead of benrey helping correct his misleading train of thought, he fed into it and led bubby to assist in getting gordon's arm chopped off

something that, may i add, bubby did not want to happen!

npd is often caused by trauma, which could easily be a result of his tube and being a case of study, but that's more of a theorizing part.

i think the main reason why i take all of this as a personality disorder headcanon and not a "he's just a little charmingly shitty" way is that even once he's redeemed these qualities never go away - and nobody seems to mind that. nobody is constantly telling him that he needs to "fix his attitude" - they just learn how to understand him :)

this is kind of thrown together very like... haphazardly i can't explain it all very well BUT that is my opinion!! bubby npd haver

[teaveetamer]

Shipping and liking in fiction don't really need to be consistent imo, like you can like black chocoloate and dislike white chocolate even if they are both chocolate but that doesn't makes you an hypocrite so liking a character that does something and not another character that does the same thing or as a similar personaily falls into taste, the only moment where i would disagree would be if they tried to justify it by draggin down the other people who ike what they dislike

My blog archive can attest to this, but I've always hated the "you wouldn't hate so-and-so if they were a man!" or "but you like this character who did something I think is the same!" arguments.

If the character were a man, then they wouldn't have been written with misogynistic dev bias in the first place, AKA they would be a completely different character, or at least handled in a completely different way.

Just because you can draw some surface parallels between characters doesn't mean they're the exact same. Even if they do the exact same thing that doesn't mean they're treated the same, which factors into how much I like or dislike them.

Like we'll just take the example of Arvis for a second. Surface level he and CF!Edelgard do a lot of similar things. They:

Conquer a continent

Ostensibly for the good of the people

Through extremely dubious means (killing or trying to kill the MC, stealing sovereign territory that they are explicitly not in charge of by force, etc.)

Which would realistically have serious and far reaching negative consequences for the people conquered (death of able-bodied men to work the fields, trampling of crops, requisitioning food from the poor and hungry, civilian deaths as tends to happen in war, etc.)

While allying with a shady evil cult who want to bring about the destruction of humanity

They attain their goals

And the narrative implies that everything went well in the immediate aftermath and everyone was kind of chill about it despite point 4 above.

And I don't like Arvis, but I don't dislike him as much as Edelgard either, and that's because of what happens next in Arvis's story:

Arvis realizes he was never as in-control as he thought, and in fact he was completely played by an organization far more powerful and intelligent and dangerous than he realized

He has a significant fall from grace, basically becoming a puppet for the evil cult

Everything he worked toward is in the gutter and things actually become significantly worse for the people living in his empire. Not only that, he has to witness his family ripped apart and used as pawns in the game he was unwittingly, hopelessly outmatched in from the start

He has a come to Jesus moment and realizes just how badly he was outplayed and how much worse he made literally everything for literally everyone with his actions

And then he spends his last moments helping the MC try and defeat the evil he unleashed. While it's not necessarily a redemption or even sufficient atonement, there is at least the understanding that Arvis understands just how responsible he is for everything that's happened, and that he needs to do everything he can to try and fix it

Meanwhile Edelgard's story in CF is:

She gets everything she wants no matter how brutal or vile her methods are or how much pain she causes to the people around her

And then the game ends with absolutely no acknowledgement of that or consequences for those actions

Like... Yeah. I don't like either of them, but why would I feel the need to criticize Arvis for the bad shit he's done? When Arvis did bad shit the plot made him fuck his sister and turned his son into a literal demon god who hunts children for sport. Not only is the game fully aware of the bad shit he's done and takes every opportunity to point out how shitty he is, Arvis is fully aware of the bad shit he's done and takes the opportunity to atone for how shitty he was once he realizes this.

The frustrating thing about Edelgard isn't that she does bad shit. It's that the game never wants to engage with that bad shit beyond surface level "woe is me" pity speeches. Not only that, but it takes every opportunity to try and make you pity her, the person inflicting all of this suffering, instead of empathizing with the people she is inflicting suffering on. Like? Can you just imagine if FE4 stopped dead in its tracks and Seliph looked at the camera and said "Gee I know Arvis killed my dad and fucked my mom and brought the apocalypse on us and all, but actually I think he's kind of dope and I wish we could have walked hand in hand together uwu"? Holy fuck I would clown on FE4 so hard for that shit.

And I'd like to say I'd feel that way about a male character in the same situation, but honestly? I can't think of any. And that's because I feel like female characters are either the most evil, vile creatures to ever exist or they're handled with kid gloves and the narrative is terrified to criticize them in any way. It feels like writers are less afraid to write flawed-but-not-irredeemably-so male characters, who can have their flaws not only front and center but also a core part of their narrative.

And if I wanted to go deep into it and draw parallels to real life... look at how often we're expected to give men (most often cishet white men) the benefit of the doubt in society, and how often women are not afforded that privilege. E.g. if a man yells then he's just having a bad day, but if a woman yells she's a bitch and a horrible person. Fiction reflects our society's attitudes in real life. So men get to be nuanced and flawed and women get to be either an Angel or a Bitch, and a lot of writers have no idea how to write anything in between those two points because they actually believe that's all women can be.