sure giorno being dio’s son doesn’t technically have any plot relevance other than to explain his connection to the joestars until you think about the whole thing as an example of nature vs nurture for both giorno and trish of how you are undefined by your blood relatives because your values and morals are not always hereditary and even though both of them are the children of villains they both rebel against that (giorno even doing so unconsciously as he never knew dio so it’s for the viewers to interpret that) and the emphasis on found family through the team and how bruno becomes a father figure particularly for trish in the elevator scene (providing support and comfort that she never had from diavolo and then that immediately being contrasted as diavolo, her actual father, tries to kill her) and bruno’s kindness as a reflection of his own father’s kindness that he still honours and lives by despite being in a profession that’s devoid of any kindness and that being his ultimate downfall.
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What if Eclipse from AP was a naga? And this took place in the deep jungle of the amazon, where photographer y/n is trying to take pictures of the wildlife?
I'm vibrating at the speed of sound over this ask while also nudging my naga au
Naga Eclipse from AP would have the tail of a Green Anaconda, with an olive green scaly color dotted with black, framed by burning-like flares of orange along the length of his slithery body. He's also decorated with orange-yellow striping on either side of his long, slipper form. His upper half is scaley with a lithe deadliness to his musculature and decorated by frills surrounding his head with brighter orange-yellow colors, almost hypnotic in their gradient hues. One eye is deep emerald green, and one is midnight blue.
Lucky you—you're out on a once-in-a-lifetime expedition to explore a jungle closed off to the public, funded by Fazco, and occupied by two researchers who will be your bunkmates for the next few weeks. You're itching to take photos of the large river, including swamps, marshes and streams, and whatever wildlife is out there.
The few locals you did meet before you left to hike the rest of the way to what would be your new, isolated home warned you of a dangerous snake—a large, mythical beast. You take note of the local folklore. You understand the truth is hidden in there somewhere, and you are well aware of the dangers and diseases you could be met with in such a harsh environment, but you're determined.
It doesn't take long for you to feel eyes watching you when you first venture out by yourself. You take beautiful pictures of freshwater fish, big and beautiful, unlike any you have ever seen. Of course, you have hundreds of snapshots of the local flora, the trees, the floating meadows, the thick vines that drape each branch and hang thickly about the ground. You almost forget that you eerily don't feel alone.
But you swear something moves in the water—the ripples stop as soon as you look. The stillness is suddenly stiff, lifeless. Even the birds have stopped chirping.
You lower your camera and carefully put it away. A trickle of fear slips into your heart. You turn away from the river's edge only to be met by a low hiss and a creature, unlike anything you witnessed in your travels, spooling itself neatly out of the water, blocking your path to the base. An incredible creature with long arms and a great, serpentine tail that seems to stretch for yards and yards. You can hardly breathe in his presence—he's otherworldly with his frills and scales and fangs.
His eyes contain a mesmerizing shine as if staring into a fire as it burns or watching the ocean as it laps up against the beach, drawing your attention, demanding you don't look away. You couldn't anyway. Half-frozen, you struggle to keep from collapsing. He beckons with a sharp talon. He hisses softly for you to come closer, mouse. He wants to see you. You try to beg no without revealing how terribly you tremble. He doesn't let you go. He insists. His eyes flash with an allure. You almost step close when he murmurs that you need to be good.
But then your sense of survival kicks adrenaline into your heart, and you turn to run—
He strikes faster than your eyes can follow. Two loops of his green and orange tail surrounded you in an instant. You're dragged to the ground, your arms pinned under his mass, and the back of your head cradled by his large palm as powerful muscles squeeze you in the slightest—a gentle rebuke for thinking you could get away. You're hyper-aware of the terrifying bulk of muscles as you lie trapped in his coils. One strong twist and your eyes could pop out of your skull, and every bone protecting your heart and lungs would crumble to shards. You gasp. An urge to kick your legs and struggle erupts in your panic; a sinking feeling tells you it would only make things worse.
He coos over you, hissing and humming in an ancient song of the jungle you have no name for. When you whimper, he shushes you and strokes your cheek. He tells you how lovely you'll be. When you talk back to him, somehow finding your tongue amid your horror, you find out his name. Eclipse. He moves you more upright, resting you on his tail so you're not petrified by how vulnerable you feel lying down, but he never loosens his scaly bindings. He hovers over you. You gaze into his stunning frills of yellow-orange and wonder how a being like him came to exist. He studies you as you study him. He grins at how you shiver when he traces your collarbone with a sharp fingertip.
You remind yourself that you can still breathe. He hasn't crushed you—yet—but you don't like how wide his smile is. Sometimes, his jaw stretches a little too long as if dislocating from his skull, ready to devour you. His eyes gleam with a ravenousness as scales twist around you, holding you close enough to smell the slick green water he had been in and deep musk.
He tells you that he'll see you again very soon—away from other humans, lest you bring him a fine gift for a meal. You can only flex your fingers, silently pleading in your heart that he won't unhook his jaw and eat you alive.
Then, he unravels himself from your limbs. But before he lets you go entirely, he leans in close, his serpentine tongue flickering close to your neck and by your hair, tasting the air around you as you muster all your strength to not scream. He inhales deeply, pleased, before he murmurs, "Sweet mouse. You are mine. Say it."
You don't understand, but you echo his command, and when he taps your chin once in what might have been a loving gesture, you force your jelly legs to solidify before you run and run, all the way back to base. You slam the door to your room behind you. You touch your ribs, your arms, still caught in the heavy sensation of his loops as if he were upon you right now.
The stories are true—there is a giant snake in this jungle, and he wants you. You're afraid to discover if Eclipse's intrigue with you is only an exotic way to satisfy his hunger.
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I've recently read through all of fabiniku (my life as an ordinary guy who reincarnated as a girl or something like that for the english title) and it's just been such a fun and genuine time that made me so much more endeared to the series than I thought I was going to be going into this. And for me it touches on a very important part of representation and the argument that queer people will inherently tell queer stories better (spoiler alert i think this mentality is simplistic and unrealistic). Because full disclosure, yeah the author of fabiniku is not someone i assume is the best ally on the planet, and i dont even know if she's queer or not. Her author notes have some pretty :/// stuff in them about trans identity and the idea that being trans is a fetish or childish choice. However, there could also be translational errors messing up what exactly she means, and I can't exactly translate myself, so there is some doubt in that regard. But regardless of the author's opinions, none of that changes the very genuine and heartfelt story she is telling with Tachibana in fabiniku.
(putting the rest under a readmore bc its getting longer than i thought)
There's a reason fabiniku got its reputation as one of the queerest isekai's to ever isekai and that reputation is well deserved bc holy shit yeah these bitches gay and trans as hell. Fabiniku does something with its queer narrative that I personally really appreciate: it sidelines the queer themes. Now this may seem contradictory, but for me, I don't always want queer stories about being queer, I want the queer elements to be a part of the narrative without it being focused on them. And fabiniku absolutely delivers on this. It isn't the story of tachibana finding out he's trans and jinguuji finding out he's gay but also kinda technically bi now- it's a batshit insane isekai romcom about 2 best friends realizing they have feelings for each other. Of course, those queer elements are still very much there, but they're entrenched in the characters, not in the author saying "see this aspect of identity, i want to use these characters as a vehicle to tell a story about it." (Not that there's anything wrong with that, its just a difference in writing goals and how one goes about writing themes/stories)
Fabiniku was never trying to be anything profound or meaningful in terms of queer representation, its mostly a gag manga with some large overarching story beats, but the author's earnestness in portraying the romance and personal growth gives the series a real heart that 1)makes it enjoyable unlike some other comedy based isekai and 2) stops it from being offensive representation. Tachibana is a guy who finds himself becoming a girl one day without and warning, and his slow journey into realizing what exactly he wants in regards to his gender identity is never used as the butt of the joke or mocked. (I'm using he/him for tachibana bc literally as of a couple chapters ago we just got him admitting he may not want to go back to being a guy, he's still on the first steps of his trans journey). In the same vein Jinguuji's love of Tachibana is never truly treated as "only now bc tachibana is a girl, no way did jinguuji love him before nope nope." (yes the initial premise suggests this interpretation, but as the manga grows on it is increasingly clear that both these 2 loved each other before this isekai shenanigans began).
There's a lot more words in my head, but Im gonna wrap it up here. Fabiniku is hardly "perfect" representation, but it is telling a meaningful story with a lot of love put into it regardless. Blaming its mistakes on the author not being trans or gay while ignoring its strengths is useless nitpicking. I saw a post saying it would be a much funnier manga if a trans person wrote it, which is such an illogical point to make that I just had to go ????? at my screen for a minute. There's a lot to talk about with this story, and that's what you took away from it?? And im not saying there aren't criticisms to be made, I still think Jinguuji's arc should have been about him realizing that even if he didn't like women, it didn't change the fact that he was attracted to Tachibana- would have made for a more in character arc for him but again, the author was never intending for anything more than a romantic comedy manga, so I won't hold it against her too much.
Anyways everyone go watch or read fabiniku you won't regret it its so fucking good
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