Tumgik
#it can taint my ability to enjoy the parts of it I liked
pearlcaddy · 1 year
Text
As someone with a very long queue, it's always awkward when a show takes a turn that makes me go completely off a character/plot/ship/the show as a whole. My innocent and dutiful queue will spend the next six-ish weeks posting about it like some sort of Weekend at Bernie's where the corpse is my love for the show.
11 notes · View notes
pinkfey · 2 years
Text
wip wednesday :D
tagged by @mrs-theirin; tysm quill!! tagging @arklay @steelport @aartyom @malefiicarum @rosebarsoap @kirnet @shadowglens @narshadda @lavinet @druidgroves @swordcoasts @calenhads @brujah @nuclearstorms @florbelles @shepardgf @devilbrakers @jillvalcntines @morvaris @kymal @risingsh0t @solasan @lvllns @rosykims @aelyosos and you!!!!
have a depressing oddly interpreted take on the taint affecting alistair and rowena 😘
The taint came for his hands first.
A side effect of days spent clutching a sword and shield no doubt. His veins went fast, running black and blue overnight. He didn't like looking at them, but Rowena traced them over every night. Hardened bones were next. Protruding metacarpals and thinned knuckles and a noticeable creak in the mornings. Then the pain began. The ache. Days where his joints stiffened to stone, where a grasp clenched too tight refused to come undone, where splaying fingers to their fullest extent proved too much.
Rowena often caught him staring at his hands in the corner of her eye. Busy hands, curious hands, hands made to fidget and gesture and move above all else, now immobile. His worry token went untouched for months, as did many of the things he loved to hold. Flowers in the garden. The mabari's paws. Rowena.
There was a time when Alistair couldn't keep his hands off of her. Affection of the physical kind was a bright and shiny concept and it took time for him to adjust. Rowena could touch him anywhere, after all. It came easy to her, the affection, the initiation. His cheek, his chin, his collarbone--anywhere would do. Eventually, he came to reciprocate. Tentatively at first, as if asking for permission, but confidence came with the security of her affection. Touch became a comfort. A hand around her waist, on her jaw, in her hair. Anywhere would do.
It couldn't have been more different now. He shied away when she reached for his arm to hold, twitched when she kissed his neck in the mornings. Evening baths became sparser until they no longer existed at all, and this Rowena could hardly bear--facing this truth that the old rituals had died, so she clung to the last of them.
No amount of massage relieved the pain, but Rowena would be damned if she didn't try. Nightly, he let her take his hands in her own.
It was a relief each time to see that despite the Taint, Alistair's hands were still his own, broad and square-fingered and devastatingly gentle. Calloused on the underside and scarred by his earliest days with a blade, too young and eager to know any better. And those nights by the firelight, nights where she took his palm in her hands and massaged the ache away, she could see that Alistair's hands were still freckled, just barely. The sun could still shine on him and leave honeyed kisses against his skin and this was one thing the taint could never take. No darkspawn could take the sun.
The night she realized this, she wept silently. She'd stopped him before he could speak, pressed his freckled hand to her cheek before he could pull away, and whispered, "Bathe with me."
Months later, the taint came for her.
For Rowena, it was her vision and it was swift. [reduntant fix this queen lol]
#in my universe the taint wastes away the physical thing you rely on the most#eventually everything is corrupted but it's always your most used ability first#so chronic pain takes alistair's hands and near blindness comes for rowena#spoiler alert unless in da4 they somehow resolve the cure for the calling rowena dies first <3 teehee#SO anyways alistair becomes a lil distant not because he's like. being cold with her. but because like#the insecurity of touch returned. the hesitation. asking if this is okay because of the unspoken recognition that the end is on its way#and he really doesn't know how to deal with that. never knew how to prepare for that#when he cups her face and sees the darkened veins on his wrists and all he can think of is how they can't have this for much longer#that's just!! a lot to handle!! and he needs the reassurance but doesn't know how to communicate it because he lost the ability to ask#aka touch#the bathing part is especially difficult bc ofc evidence of the taint's corruption had spread beyond his hands atp#and he'd have to bare his whole body in front of her and that's like. so vulnerable. when ur dealing w all that#this is probably rlly obvious but sjhdjhfhdjfhjd#i like having aging being a significantly important thing in alistair and rowena’s relationship#the tragedy of it all#how gaining weight and wrinkles is so bittersweet#because on one hand they’re growing old together and god can u believe they made it here#but on the other it’s the telltale sign the calling is nearing and it’s just like#okay how much time do we have left. how much time do we have left. how much time do we have left.#how can we enjoy what we have when we want so much more. gray hair and children and arthritis. we’re so weary and we’re so young.#tag game#writing*#x: a soft epilogue#ch: rowena cousland
43 notes · View notes
roseykat · 5 months
Text
TITLE: Play Tight
Tumblr media
PAIRINGS: Bang Chan x f!reader
SUMMARY: Reader and Chan divulge their ‘excuse’ as to why they couldn’t make it to hot pot and barbecue dinner with their friends.
WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with me, my work, or page whatsoever.
TAGS: smut, porn with plot, swearing, multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampies, fwb, some pillow talk (ish)
PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3
🏷️ LIST: @chillichillicrabcrab23 @broken-glowsticks @ihatemen55 @boi-bi-ahaha @galamxy @weareapackofstrays @anglerfishiey @elizalabs3 @fr34k4c1dr41n @stayconnecteed @imnotjjini0325 @twinklix @meilix @livsposts @dawn-iscozy @princejisung @valibals @oiikaro @im-sinking-in-mud @aalexyuuuhm @baby-yongbok @/leftkittenface @20minsat180degrees @itsthatbri (if you want to be removed or added to the tag list, please lmk!) ⭐️
A/N: if you don't know what a refractory period is it's essentially about the ability of most women to cum back to back or one after the other in a short span of time between one orgasm and the next. Therefore, if it seems as though I've written about reader having multiple orgasms within quick succession, that's because she is and Chan is making the most of it. Also I really pushed the time limit with uploading this part bc I spent the last few hours trying to get the fan club which took fucking ages...
Tumblr media
Hot pot and barbecue with friends - now that sounded fun. 
You saw the group chat messages from earlier, and the plan to all meet up at half past six. Had you not orchestrated other arrangements, you would be sitting with them right now enjoying nice meals and chats. Instead, your body remains to be railed thoroughly, right into the bed that belongs to none other than Chan. The owner of very capable hands who had just finished fucking you on his couch earlier on. 
He too missed dinner with everyone for the same reason. Selfishly being, to get laid. 
Chan presented half of a lie to the group chat, saying that his family was back in the city - which was true, and that he was going to visit them, so he couldn’t make it - not true. You on the other hand conjured the only fib you could think of and told everyone that you were going to be working past six.
Both of you felt relatively guilty for ditching the dinner. However, it would’ve looked ten times more suspicious if the two of you suddenly changed your minds at the same time and decided to show up. 
But why would anyone suspect anything? Nobody knew Chan was rearranging your guts every other night. Or so you thought. That dirty, slutty little secret was only kept hushed between you and Chan. These past couple of months you’ve spent at each other's houses, tainting the very last remnants of innocence either of you had. 
You wouldn’t have realised it at first until you experienced it for yourself, but Chan is and can get really horny. Before him, there was no such thing as ‘hard-paced’ or ‘nasty’ sex. It was fairly vanilla, which there’s nothing wrong with from time to time. But at the minute, that wasn’t the cup of tea you fancied. No. It was something much dirtier and riveting, something that makes you feel like you’re very much alive. 
Chan was able to achieve that in less than half an hour after you both hooked up one time after a night out. Sure there might’ve been alcohol involved, except neither of you were drunk enough to completely forget what an amazing time you both had. So much so that you and Chan decided to hook up again. And again, and again, until it became a weekly event. 
In saying that, there were a few layers as to why you and Chan started seeing each other regularly. You needed the de-stressor from work that had been hounding you for months, and among other things, there is nothing like a good dick down to make just about make every worry in your mind disappear.
As for Chan’s situation, it wasn’t as light. Having been cheated on by his long term partner, Chan entered what you refer to as his ‘hoe phase’ to which he was rather embarrassed to learn that it’s something that people tend to go through when they’ve broken up with their significant other. 
Nonetheless, you and Chan unexpectedly found each other in a way friends wouldn’t typically, and it was only limited to that. No strings attached, still remain good friends, and the best mind blowing sex. 
“Fuck - yes, right there!”
Chan’s hips ram unforgivingly into you from behind. Creating godly, euphoric waves that ripple throughout your body each and every time he does. His fingernails clutch themselves into the soft flesh of your hips, allowing him to use that small bit of traction to pull your body back onto his cock or for him to thrust forward mercilessly. 
This was way better than dinner with friends. 
“W-Wait,” you reach behind to the side of your body, trying to tap his arm and prompt him to slow down so you could get your message across without having it fucked right out of you. “Ride…lemme ride you.” 
Chan swallows and nods, taking a short breather, “yeah, yeah okay.” 
Whilst you’ve learned a lot of things about Chan since you’ve started sleeping with him, he’s also learned some stuff about you. Like discovering throughout your secret sessions with him that you seem to cum the hardest when you’re riding him. He doesn’t entirely see the appeal of it since he doesn’t mind picking up all the slack just so you don’t have to do any of the work. At the same time, however, nothing feels as good as fucking his frustrations into you.
But he also doesn’t mind them getting fucked out of him. It easily added to one of the reasons why he found it so hot to watch you ride dick. 
As he gently slides his cock out of you, moving into the next position where he now gets to lie back against his pillows. He watches you straddle him first, then take his length in hand before aligning it with your hole. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock. 
The ‘o’ shape in your mouth enlarges when the entirety of his length vanishes inside you. He’s big. Something you can’t always grasp every time you sleep together. The silver lining in that however is that the foreplay is amazing. 
“Christ,” you breathe out, lifting your hips up and down a couple of times, groaning as the pleasure already built up from before starts re-taking its effect to its highest extent. “Fuck, make me feel so full.” 
“So you keep telling me,” he responds with a cocky grin as his hand reaches up to one of your tits and gropes ravenously. “But that’s what you like isn’t it? Having a big cock inside you, yeah?”
Your hand claps right on top of his, the other stabilises your body on his chest as you start riding at a pace comfortable enough to build some momentum. It doesn’t take long until every part of your body feels like warm flames are tickling your skin, leaving tingly traces in their wake. 
“Yes, love it so much,” you pant breathlessly. “Love it when it makes me cum.” 
Chan is glad to hear that. Then again, he knows. He’s fucked you long enough to know what you like, what you don’t, and what type of pleasure can turn your mind inside out. With that in mind, and one hand still groping you, he uses the other thumb to find your clit and rub generously. 
“F-Fuck, oh my god, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you plead in anguish as you start to feel your orgasm shift into sight. 
It’s right there. The utmost pleasure and ecstasy at its apex swells from the pit of your stomach, to your toes, all the way into the crevices of your brain. Every part of you - physically and mentally, just seems to melt into Chan. His cock, which feels like it was made for you to use like this, glides frictionlessly until his tip kisses your g-spot so lovingly. Each time it hits, Chan earns extra centimetres of long red scratches down his abdomen, marked up by your fingernails. 
“Cum,” he demands through gritted teeth. “Fucking cum all over me.”
Brainless and vacant as you were in trying to respond to him, your actions seemed to speak for themselves. As Chan continues to move his thumb consistently over your clit and you bounce yourself still on his cock, your eyes suddenly screw tight shut - shuddering before a surge of relief gushes from between your legs. 
Chan grins sickeningly. 
The untapped pleasure squeezes and strangles moans out of your throat, yet, in the few spare moments when you had come back down to earth, your stomach felt like it dropped at some point along the way. The minute you open your eyes, breathing hard and heavy, your attention catches on to the mess you’ve made. 
Most of Chan’s abdomen is soaked with your juices, his taut torso gleaming with your cum. Droplets of it roll down his side and seep into the sheets below him. From there, the humiliation is quick to ensue. Chan even sees the panic fill your eyes. 
“Oh! I’m so sorry,” you whine apologetically. “I don’t know what happened! I was - I was caught up in-“
Chan ceases your babbling by grabbing the undersides of your thighs and just about throws you on your back as he moves to top you. His sudden movements catch you off guard, wondering for a moment what he was doing until he started fucking you again. 
“Chris!” you cry out, latching around his back. 
His head buries into the crook of your neck, “wanna feel you do it again. Wanna see you drip down my cock.” 
At his words of request, you knew it was possible with the way that his dick hits deeper, pressing against those sensitive spots inside you that have been milked of pleasure. It’s not difficult to feel it building up again. There’s zero refractory period, allowing you to cum in an uninterrupted procession. At this stage, Chan could just whisper dirty things in your ear and have you become a squirting mess on his bed for him to watch. He wondered if that was actually possible. 
After watching and making you cum an extraordinary amount of times this evening, Chan was about to witness another, this time, mixed with his own release of pleasure. He can never ignore that dense pressure stacking up in his cock, like a blocked pipe that’s about to burst with the help of the tension from your contracting walls. 
One hand at a time, he places each beside your head to lift himself up while still trying to maintain a consistent pace. Then he coils back, grabbing the undersides of your thighs again and leaning some of his weight down so that he can press deeper. 
Tears are pricking your eyes - not from any pain but from pleasure you’ve never felt. It’s so intense and has nowhere in your body to escape that the longer you hold it in, the more explosive it’s going to feel. As your emotions exude the ferocity of another orgasm, Chan absorbs your expressions, giving him a very clear estimate of when you’re about to cum. 
“Gonna give me another one?” he asks even though you’re in no state of mind to give him a verbal answer. “Gonna be a good girl and get my dick wet one last time?” 
You shake your head but only because you’re unsure if you can actually take that pressure that’s about to blow. Regardless of how high he has built your orgasms for you, you always take them well. It has you sobbing - screaming and clutching onto his bedding as you whimper that you’re about to cum. Chan could only just hear you over the sound of his skin slapping against yours. 
“You can do it,” he reassures you. “You always do.” 
At that moment, as if he just flipped a switch inside you, Chan had you gushing in an instant. Your upper body contorts to the left and stiffens as he fucks you right through it, right until his own orgasm slaps him on cue. Grunts mixed with whimpers force their way out from the base of Chan’s throat. His cock uncontrollably spurts his hot white cum, coating liberal amounts on your walls with a few hard, deep thrusts. 
"Fuck, oh my god," he groans through gritted teeth, satisfaction seeping through into his blood.
He pulls back to sit on his heels, looking down as he grabs the base of his cock now slicker than usual with milky, almost transparent liquid rings of white. The fact that both of your juices have mixed together does something to a sick part of Chan’s brain. His lower half is still dripping with your cum, forcing you to shy away into the bunched up sheets when you realise you’ve made another mess on him. 
Too weak to speak up about it, Chan had no trouble reading the room and caught onto your emotions. He was right to assume that you were embarrassed for it but fuck if Chan could experience it all again, he would. That then strikes an idea as he massages your inner thighs with the palms of his hands. 
“That’s never happened before,” he comments with a little bit of surprise, making you turn with embarrassment, all the while trying to ease you back down from your high. “So fucking hot.” 
His thumbs rub into your wet skin, inching closer to your pussy. Before you know it, the backs of his fingertips are brushing over your hole where his cum is leaking out of you. Semi sticky strings of it attach onto him when he pulls away and goes back in to smother it all the way up to your clit. He thumbs softly over the sensitive bud, setting fire again to the muscles in your lower half. 
You shudder a little bit from the faint stimulation, and finally muster the energy to talk, “yeah…d-don’t know how. Usually it’s - mm, just cause’…maybe you were hitting the right spot.”
Chan doesn’t meet your eyes, and by the preoccupied look on his face, it was clear that he had another agenda as his thumb continued to rub mindlessly. Although, he did hear you as he smirked and shook his head. 
“Nah, that was all you,” his mouth falls open slightly as he stares down at where his fingers begin to disappear. 
“Chan…” 
“I reckon you could give me one more,” he predicts as he starts to finger you slowly. “Just one more.”
“Please, fuck...” You whine loudly throughout the room. “D-Don’t think I can…please.” 
Chan moves to the side of you just a little bit, placing his other hand on your lower belly to apply just a little bit of welcoming pressure while he ignores you, “yes you can pretty. Only one.”
His fingers curl deviously inside you, forcing an automatic bodily response for your eyes to roll to the back of your head and back to arch clean off the bed. As he strokes over the spongy area, your fists are clenching on the duvet. Your body is beyond sensitive and squirms uncontrollably at the faintest of his touch. 
“Chris!” You sob, tears now leaking down the sides of your face from the euphoria. 
This was the closest replica to being high. It’s like the pleasure picked up where it left off from the previous orgasm Chan brought to you and nearly doubled in intensity to the point where you thought for a moment that you were going to black out. But it hits you harder than before since his fingers have a bit more precision to find and hit your g-spot rather than making you feel fuller. 
“That’s my good girl,” he says encouragingly. 
There and then, as Chan detects the tell-tale signs that you’re about to cum, he finger fucks you at a generous pace that doesn’t let up on the time your insides have to try mitigate the pleasure. It goes into overdrive, sending a bunch of all the right signals straight to your brain. 
“C-Cum…cumming…I’m-”
Chan appreciates the fact that he’s reduced you from crying and screaming his name to a silent, overstimulated mess. Alternatively, you’re surrendering entirely to the ecstasy which sweeps you under like a current. Chan doesn’t need to hold you in place for you to take what he’s giving you with his fingers. He just gives and gives, and gives until for the third time, he has you squirting. 
“Oh yeah, look at that,” he grins excitedly, watching his palm and all the way up to his forearm become completely drenched in your juices. “What a good girl.”
By that point, Chan was successful in running your body dry. His pace slows down, now gently stroking inside you. Your quiet, strained moans die down, along with a reserve tank of energy you had left. You were limp and helpless, a gorgeous mess on the bed for him to admire. 
Chan slowly takes his fingers out, gently massaging around your sensitive pussy, “fuck, so good."
You turn onto your side, processing all of that. For a few moments before, it felt like you had had an out of body experience, and maybe you were. Everything was so consuming and powerful that for a second you didn’t feel like yourself. But that wasn’t a bad thing, nor did you think of it that way. It’s just a new experience that you welcomed, one that made you feel good multiple times. 
Chan hops off the bed and kneels beside you onto the floor as he strokes and pats your head, “you okay?”
You nod then go to sit up, “mm, just out of it. Give me a few minutes.” 
“You - you shouldn’t move so much, not now at least,” Chan warns, then quickly spots the uncomfortable expression on your face as you realise that everything beneath you is wet and sticky.
“Your duvet,” you say to him, looking down and around at all the large damp areas.
“What about it?” 
“Well it’s all ruined-” 
“They’re not ruined,” he says defiantly like a stubborn child, almost like he was offended you even made that sort of comment. “It looks…fucking hot.”
“Hot,” you repeated with an airy chuckle. 
“I didn’t know you could do that,” says Chan, bewildered. 
“Neither could I to be honest,” you agree wholeheartedly. “It was really…intense and...strange.” 
“Strange?” He retorts. 
“Not a bad ‘strange’, just something I’ve always heard of, but never managed to do with someone else before,” you reply. 
Chan smiles to himself, looking at his bed before that grin drops off his face, “never managed to do it with someone else before? As in, you’ve done it before, just…on your own?” 
You blink up at him, quickly changing the subject, “reckon the others are still out?” 
“I’d imagine so,” he says, still thinking about what you said previously. 
“Hot pot and barbecue sounded so nice too…” you trail off, eyes going in and out of focus. Your body is starting to catch up to you.
“Well, luckily we live in the era of food delivery, right?” He responds confidently. “Let me clean you up first, then we can hop in the shower. After that, I’ll order it in for us, sound good?” 
Sometimes when you’re with Chan, you forget that at the end of the day, he’s one of your good friends and still acts like it after you sleep with him. He knows when to be your fuck buddy and when to be your mate. None of it is awkward or weird and nor does he strive to make it that way. 
Potentially it’s because of his nature to be a gentleman inside the bedroom just as much as he is outside, hence why you had a considerate amount of gratitude towards him for not being an ass like some of the people you’ve hooked up with or seen casually in the past. But that could never be the two people you slept with a few weeks back. 
Not Hyunjin nor Jisung, whom you’ve thought about ever since that night at his apartment. Although it was truth or dare that led you all to the events that unfolded, you would’ve still slept with them anyway without the game. Just thinking about the two of them makes you miss them. Makes you miss the way that they touched you. 
It was a different feeling to how Chan normally touches you. With him, he’s a friend with benefits. Someone who can call you or you can call him whenever either of you need each other. As a result, there isn’t going to be anything fond or loving between the pair of you - which you’re more than happy with. You made that clear to Chan at the start that you weren’t looking to enter into a relationship with him at any stage if that’s what he was thinking. 
Thankfully, he wasn’t either. 
But when Hyunjin and Jisung touched you, it was surreal. Almost natural, like they were meant to feel you that way and only them. That was the difference between them and Chan, not that you were comparing them since you saw them in separate positive lights.
There was just something about those two that left a strong imprint on your brain, something you can’t scratch without them…
Tumblr media
I strictly forbid and do not permit ANYONE or any user on any platform to copy, re-upload, translate, remake, or pass off any of my work here on Tumblr or to any other online platform whatsoever. Doing so will result in having your account suspended, deleted, taken down, and or permanently banned.
984 notes · View notes
reveluving · 8 months
Text
the bump in the night ; rick flag x reader
Tumblr media
summary: someone made Mrs Flag cry, and her family is not having it.
warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, shadow-magic f!reader, reverse comfort & humour!
a/n: this AU is based on this piece I made a while back, 'cause you already know I can't do this special without hubby Rick and the kids! hope you enjoy it & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ
» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out my m.list for 'reve's quirky reverie 🕷️'!
Tumblr media
'For now, they had a plan, hoping it could bring a smile to your face.' ;
Coming home to his daughter's hugs had become an everyday thing if Rick didn't have to work overtime, but if the flicker of sadness in her eyes was anything to go by, something had to have happened while he was away.
“Mrs Bedford was saying bad stuff to mama while we were at the park.” 
It was the same thing she told her brothers when they got home from school, and just like them, it was enough for Rick to get the whole picture.
Ah, Mrs Bedford. Or as the neighbourhood youngsters, children and teenagers alike, like to call her 'the modern witch of the road', and not in the cool way. Her husband was no better, always bugging you at any given opportunity. The worst part was Mrs Bedford always antagonized you for it, even if she knew you didn’t entertain her husband’s behaviour. It was also extremely hypocritical of her, considering she herself has tried to make her move on Rick. A lot. Only to be met with disappointment each time. 
Her children were just as bad, too, to put it lightly.
“What did she say?” It was the green light Irene needed before she explained what had happened to a T, courtesy of her father’s eagle eye. Unlike most days, it was just you and Irene visiting the park since your sons had football practice. 
The two of you were feeding the ducks when Mrs Bedford came up to you.
“You on your own?” Was the first thing she asked you before you questionably said ‘yes’, despite Irene being there too, and the little girl realized Mrs Bedford wouldn’t have gone off on a tangent about you and your ‘possibly tainted history’ if her father or brothers were around in the first place.
“I don’t know what you did but I can see it in your eyes, Flag. You’re no saint. You can fool the others with your little flower shop and your so-called angelic kids, but not me.”
Though Mrs Bedford knew nothing about your powers or your time in Belle Reve, instead, spewing hate out of jealousy and hatred for you for being the favourable neighbour, she wasn’t completely wrong. You have hurt people, you’ve even killed some, but they were for the greater good. Since your freedom from hell on earth, you’ve barely used your umbrakineses. It wasn’t until the birth of your children, to which all three of them gained your abilities did you realized you couldn’t run from who you really were—it wasn’t right nor fair to them.
Then, telling them your story as a criminal and how their dad was once your enemy was another thing. You weren’t sure what reaction you were expecting, but it was certainly not amazement and sparkles in their eyes. As they grew older, they began to make sense of how their parents somehow knew people like Aunt Harley, Uncle Robert and hell, even Nanaue.
And at that point in time, Mrs Bedford reminded you of Waller, turning you into submission as you could do nothing but listen to her make a mockery out of you for turning over a new leaf. Irene had to watch your face drop as the woman insulted you, and she knew she had to tell her family about it. 
Irene insisted that she was fine about heading home early, even if you tried to convince her otherwise. She wanted nothing more than to do something about that glazed look in your eyes.
As soon as you stepped foot into the living room, a tear rolled down your cheek. You couldn't help but apologize to her, to everyone if they were with you then. You weren’t entirely sure if it was because you seemed weak over a bunch of words or their fate of ending up with you as the wife and a mother of their family.
Irene shook her head, hugging you with her face in your tummy.
"You're not a mean person, mama. You're the nicest and coolest mama we could ever ask for, and we love you." 
It was simple, something you've heard of thousands of times in your lifetime, but you very much needed it today.
Ever the sweet girl, she accompanied you as you lay in your bed, telling you random stories about what she painted during art class or what she ate at lunch, anything but the time Mrs Bedford’s son, Kyle pushed her off the swing while his older brother, Blake laughed and praised him for doing so. You didn’t need to know that. 
Not yet.
You listened with a warm smile, embarrassed but nonetheless thankful for how observant she was of your feelings before eventually dozing off. 
Irene was careful yet quick to jump off the bed, running downstairs to shush Richie and Ethan as they returned home. 
The more she explained, the brighter their eyes unnaturally glowed. Richie was starting to look like their father as he crossed his arms, listening to her like a police officer, while Ethan seemed like he was already thinking of ways to counter the Bedford’s undignified acts.
Basically, the Bedfords were not the greatest people. Each and every one of them. 
Though they had a myriad of ideas, they weren’t sure how much their father would appreciate it, even if it was for your sake. Still, they thanked Irene for being there for you, promising that something would be done, no matter what it would be.
For now, they had a plan, hoping it could bring a smile to your face.
After an unexpected nap, you came down to find your kids huddled on the couch, whispering and hushing each other. Curious, you approached them.
Ethan was the first to notice you, offering you a grin before showing you what was in their hands, “Look, ma, I think we got it.” 
You leaned in to take a closer look, only for your breath to hitch at the sight of life on their palms. There, they showed you the differing mass of shadows they conjured, a tougher one you just taught them about a week ago. You have always loved this trick as a kid, and it only aided your sanity when you were by your lonesome in the penitentiary. In a way, you were replacing what life truly was by making your own, even if they were temporary because there was no telling when or if you’d ever be free. 
Yet, here they were, prompting joy and pride as they held the wispy animals of their choice; Richie with what seemed to be an adorable little puppy, Ethan creatively emulated a bioluminescent jellyfish and Irene…
Oh, Irene.
She scarcely remembered how much you loved making her laugh by conjuring butterflies when she was still very little if not for the twins confirming it. 
The butterfly was as small as her hand, but the wings were majestic, idly flapping before flying over to you, leaving cloudy black trails and landing on your outstretched finger. 
You stared at their creations ever so lovingly, already on the brink of tears. You were just as mad at yourself for doubting your worth, and your potential, just because of the things you had to do in the past, for the sake of the person you were now.
You embraced Irene in a tight hug before pulling your boys in as well. You sniffled, absolutely joyous and blessed to be surrounded by the most loving people. Nothing could deter you from this, not even as the shadow puppy yipped and chased the jellyfish and butterfly in excitement. Your cat, Tofu, must’ve heard the commotion, too, as she came from the kitchen to check, only to be frightened and jump on the couch with you as the puppy came running to her.
Rick finally arrived about two hours later, coming home to hear laughter before he saw Irene running across the room, followed by Tofu and the shadow puppy in tow. The jellyfish laid on Richie’s head like a nest whereas the butterfly decided to make Ethan’s shoulder its home as they hung out with you on the couch.
“Daddy!” Irene greeted him before running over to him. He didn’t question the questioning look she gave him just yet and instead, hoisted her up, laughing as Tofu and the puppy pawed at his bootlaces.
“What’s going on here?” He raised his brows, amused by what could be described as a fever dream of a sight.
“The kids learnt how to make little lives.” You giggled, allowing Rick to sit next to you as you scooted over.
“And I got a new hat,” Richie gestured to the jellyfish, who he has now dubbed as Jelly. As if it understood, Jelly immediately floated away, leaving Richie’s hair flattened, “Never mind.”
You shared a laugh as he deadpanned before you turned to Rick, “Was work okay?”
“Yeah, the usual. Decorated the place today, actually.” He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery and showing you and the kids the spookily tacky decor that furnished his workplace.
“Did you really paint ‘dead inside, don’t open’ on the entrance door?” The twins gawked.
“Fitting, ain't it?” Rick joked, prompting smiles and chuckles from you once more before falling back on the couch, “But at least I’m off tomorrow, so I was thinking we could eat out for dinner.”
“Oh! We should head to Pop’s since they’re also offering their apple betty.” Ethan suggested.
“Well, I think that’s a good idea, so,” Richie trailed off, raising anticipation from the rest of you before jumping off the couch and running up the stairs. Ethan and Irene simultaneously gasped before the former took his sister out of Rick’s arms to chase their brother together. You and Rick could only watch with delight as Tofu and the shadow creatures followed them too.
“Everything okay?” He wanted to know, but he wouldn’t pry if you weren’t ready to tell him.
“Yeah,” You nodded, gazing down for a moment before continuing, “Something happened earlier but…”
“Richie! You better not lock the door or I swear to God!” Ethan’s voice rang out from upstairs, followed by Irene’s ‘language!’, and you couldn’t help but shake your head in amusement. 
“It’s all good now.” You reassured him. You knew you could’ve told him, but it wasn’t worth dwelling on. You had children to nurture and a husband to take on the world with.
“The Bedfords?” He guessed. If it wasn’t them, then it had to be Mr Walker.
“The Bedfords,” You confirmed with a tight smile, “I’m just more upset that Irene was there to hear it.”
You didn’t explain any further and Rick took it as a sign to drop it. If they were able to make you this upset, then it was best to ask the kids instead. 
“I’m sorry,” He pulled you to his chest, planting a slow and gentle kiss on your forehead. He rubbed your back, sighing at the very mention of that family. Rick loathed that they were influential enough to be one of the higher-ups of the school’s PTA, though he was confident that money was involved in it too. He hated that they were reasons why you’d come home ranting about how Mrs Bedford bugged you again, or when he had to make sure Mr Bedford knew he was making a promise and not an empty threat whenever it involved their kids and his, "You know I can talk to them." 
It would do no good, but it was worth trying. 
"No, you know how the Bedfords are. Don’t worry, okay? Not now,” You kissed the inside of his palm before pressing your lips against his, soft, sensual and safe. Rick moved forward, deepening the kiss as held the nape of your neck. You pulled away but not before nuzzling his nose, “We should be celebrating.”
He nodded, though he knew it would only linger in his mind for a while. Still, he adhered to your wishes, standing up before offering you his hand to get ready, “Right, right. Shall we?”
You snorted, placing your hand in his the way a princess would when a prince asks for a dance. Unexpectedly, he twirled you around, wrapping his arms around you he pulled you in, chest to chest. You playfully smacked him, though it did very little to wipe off the pleased look on his face as the two of you headed to your room. 
Tumblr media
You and the boys were the first to head out to the front yard, chatting and evaluating the decors of the houses while waiting for Rick and Irene. 
“What happened today?” He asked his daughter quietly as they stood at the front door, helping with her shoes while she slid on a jacket. 
“Mrs Bedford was saying bad stuff to mama while we were at the park.” She whispered back, swinging her arms as she watched her father tie her shoelace, “Like, really mean stuff. No one was around except us so she was kinda loud, too.”
Rick fumed, clenching his jaw as he could already hear and picture whatever nonsense she loved to spit out. 
“Mama got kinda quiet when we came home, and then she started crying. About how she’s sorry she was a criminal and how we’re ‘stuck’ with her powers.” She added. If anything, she and the boys thought your abilities were the coolest thing to have ever happened to them. 
He shook his head—who wouldn't crack after being subjected to their ways for so long? He hummed, hiding the seething resentment by ruffling Irene's hair.
"Can you help me distract your mother while I talk to the boys for a bit?" She nodded diligently, skipping over to you before Rick called out to his sons, "Need some help, boys." 
They rushed over, glancing at you before Ethan spoke up first, "She told you?" 
"Yeah." Rick replied as he locked the door.
"Can't we do something about it?" Richie asked with a frown.
"You boys are not punching Blake again." Rick reminded them with a small smile. 
"You didn't seem to mind it," Ethan mirrored his father's amusement, "He was yelling at our teammate and encouraged his troll brother to push Irene off a swing." 
"I'm mad, too," Rick was more than mad, but he couldn't let his emotions run wild, "Look, we'll think of something, alright? For now, just make sure she's happy." 
That's all they ever wanted.
The drive to Pop's was a lively one, and so was the dinner itself. Though you knew you'd be thinking about Mrs Bedford's words every once in a while, the smiles and laughter of your family were already a welcoming distraction as it is. 
Tumblr media
Midnight rolled around, and everyone had returned to their rooms with sore cheeks and a full stomach. You were the first to slip under the covers after a shower, hoping you wouldn't be too tired as you waited for Rick, though it didn't work.
By the time Rick got out of the bathroom, you were peacefully asleep, your face just a breath away from your husband's pillow as his scent soothed you like no other. 
Rick smiled to himself, changing into his PJs before sitting on your side of the bed. The dip roused you from your slumber just a little.
"Rick?" You murmured, fluttering your lashes tiredly.
"Forgot to get some water," He caressed your cheek before bending down to kiss it, "I'll be back." 
You mustered a closed-eye smile and before you knew it, you drifted off once again, lulled by the way he patted your back.
Once the coast was clear, he moved off the bed, silently slipping out and closing the door before heading over to the twins' room. He knocked on the door, just enough for them to hear before doing the same with Irene's door and headed downstairs.
Rick sat down at the dining table with a glass of cold water, arms crossed and lost in his own thoughts before hearing light footsteps approaching.
Richie, Ethan and Irene carefully pulled their chairs back before taking a seat, and just like that, the discussion began.
But it didn't seem like they were getting anywhere and at some point, they just started shit-talking.
"Man, I wish coach would just kick Blake out." Ethan groaned, his head falling back. 
"Tell me about it. He's shit at quarterback." Richie clicked his tongue.
"Boys." Rick warned them, partially because his youngest was listening.
"Sorry." They apologized but Irene didn't seem to mind.
"How about…" She chimed in, tapping her finger on her chin, "We scare them?" 
"Like…?" Richie cocked his head, hoping she'd say more than just that.
"I don't know, I just thought it'd be cool since it's Halloween and stuff. And, well, maybe we could use our powers, but I know mama and daddy wouldn't want that." She shrugged, pouting because she hadn't thought it far enough.
"It would be a miracle to scare them without using our powers in the first place," Richie sighed, looking over to his father, "What do you think, dad?" 
No reply.
"Dad?" Ethan followed suit as the three of them raised their brows.
“How far are you in your shadow puppet practice?” Rick asked out of the blue, staring ahead as though imagining whatever idea he had played out. 
“Uh, pretty far, I think? Ma taught us how to merge our shadows into one if we wanted to make a bigger animal.” Richie answered, earning affirmative nods from his siblings. 
“How big?” 
“Like, this big!” Irene opened her arms wide to let him know just how big of a monster they would be able to make if they wanted to. They haven’t, there was no reason to, but the more their father asked, the more it piqued their interest.
Rick thought it through for a moment. It has been a while since he has seen you make that one particular lifeform, but it was worth a shot. If it were able to render Waller speechless, then it’ll definitely make the Bedfords piss their pants. 
No actual attacks, and definitely no killings. But he’ll make sure they shudder at the mere thought of Halloween. Put the fear of God in them. They had it coming, too, stomping on other neighbours’ happiness for years just for the fun of it. 
He just had to play it safe. 
He slowly broke into a sinister smile.
“You three ever heard of a hellhound?”
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
Tumblr media
» a/n: ahh hubby rick &lt;3 ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡
433 notes · View notes
aspoonofsugar · 7 months
Text
Chuya's Tainted Sorrow
Here comes a meta on my favourite bsd character:
Tumblr media
Chuya is mostly explored in the two BSD novels Fifteen and Storm Bringer, so this post covers what happens in these books. In particular, I am going to use Chuya's song, gift and literary references to explore his story.
DARKNESS MY SORROW
Darkness My Sorrow is Chuya's character song and its title combines two different literary references:
Darkness comes from the Sheep Song, which is used to trigger Corruption:
O acquaintances, grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again!
Sorrow comes from Upon The Tainted Sorrow, which gives its name to Chuya's ability
Let's discover what these two poems represent.
CHUYA'S DARK DISGRACE (THE SHEEP)
O expectations, stale and dismal airs, leave this body of mine! I want nothing anymore but simplicity, quiet, murmurs and order. O acquaintances, grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again! I will endure my solitude, arms seeming already useless. O eyes that open doubtfully, open eyes that stay motionless for a while, ah, heart, that believes in others more than itself, O expectations, stale and dismal airs, leave, leave this body of mine! I enjoy nothing anymore but my wretched dreams. (The Sheep Song, Part II)
The Sheep is Chuya's first group, which welcomes him in as a child. Why is the organization called after this animal? There are several reasons, which tie with Chuya's relationship with his friends.
1 - Chuya is a herding dog
Tumblr media
The Sheep's members are normal kids, but Chuya guards their territory and punishes trespassers violently. This is the behaviour of herding dogs, which are famous for their aggressiveness towards outsiders.
"Everyone's waiting for you to give this enemy a beatdown! That's the only way we Sheep can protect our turf! We've only made it this far because everyone knows they can't mess with us!" (Shirase in Fifteen)
2 - Chuya is a sheep among wolves
"Chuuya's got all that berserk firepower, but here he's like sheep getting stared down by a wolf." (Dazai in Fifteen)
Chuya's relationship with the Sheep is exploitative and toxic. The other kids use Chuya's love and wish to belong to control him. All in all, Chuya is used as a pawn for the organization's well being:
"We Sheep took you in when you had no family and nowhere to go, but you already gave us more than enough in return. That's why... it's time to rest... after dying and contributing to the Sheep one last time." (Shirase in Fifteen)
3 - Chuya is the King of the Sheep
Tumblr media
Luois I, King of the Sheep is a children book about a sheep, who finds a crown. He puts it on and becomes King. The point of the story is that Luois I is like other sheep, but chance and a superficial attribute turn him into a royal.
Chuya sees himself in the same way:
"I'm not a King," the boy, Chuuya Nakahara, spat. "I just happen to have something no one else does: power. I'm simply fulfilling the responsibility I have." (Fifteen)
Chuya's "crown" is his gravity manipulation gift that sets him apart from others. He even calls it a "good card", so something luck gives him.
Luois I lets the crown get to his head and believes he is above others. Chuya instead really wants to be part of the flock:
Chuuya wasn't anyone special; he didn't have a skill, either. He was just a regular member of the group. He wasn't the king, he had no powers, he wasn't the center of attention - he was simply a single Sheep among the flock, chatting with his friends. (Chuya's wish in Storm Bringer)
However, his ability is so powerful that it is the Sheep kids, who forget Chuya is a teenage boy just like them:
"Chuuya's covered in wounds. I've never seen him like that. He looks just like a regular guy my age. Wait, no - he doesn't just look like one. He is my age. He's a boy just like me." (Shirase in Storm Bringer)
In short, Chuya doesn't want to be the Sheep King, but he is forced into the role by the crown of power:
"Shut up! If you think you can become king, then do it! You can have this power!" Chuuya howled, unable to take it any longer. "To hell with power! If I didn't have this skill, I'd still be with you guys...!" (Storm Bringer)
Still, gifts are metaphors of the characters' interiority. So, what does Chuya's abnormous skill symbolize? What is the real flaw that defines Chuya's relationships and gets in their way?
"Once there was this boy who could amplify the skill of anyone he touched. Super convenient. So what do you think would happen if he used it on himself instead of someone else? (...) He amplified the skill to amplify the other skill, which amplified the skill to amplify skills that amplify skills. This self-referencing continued nonstop as he endlessly amplified his own skill." (N in Storm Bringer)
Storm Bringer reveals that the origin of Chuya's gravity manipulation is the gift to make other skills more powerful. The user applies his gift on himself and makes it stronger and stronger until infinite energy is created and space warps. So, Chuya's singularity is born: a gift able to control gravity. In other words:
The original ability is to make others stronger
If the ability is used on one-self (so that the wielder can become more powerful and make others even more powerful), then a contradiction arises and a monstruous skill appears
This process is a representation of Chuya's tendency to grow stronger for others' sake. He hones his fighting skills to protect the Sheep (to make them stronger), but this turns them too dependent on him (an organizational vulnerability). What a good leader should do is instead to nurture his people, so that they can be independent and strong:
“A leader is both the head of the organization and the organization’s slave. For the survival and the profit of the organization, they gladly put themselves through any manner of filth. They develop their subordinates and place them where they best fit. And, if necessary, they use and dispose of them. For the sake of the organization, they take on any act of barbarism with glee. That is a leader. All for the organization, and for the protection of this beloved city.” (Mori in Fifteen)
This is Chuya's mistake and the reason why the Sheep disbands. Chuya falls short as a leader not because he isn't as smart as Dazai or Mori (if anything, I think he is going to be a better leader than both). Rather, he fails because he doesn't know how to depend on others:
"It's because you are our friend. Were things different with the Sheep?" They had been. That was what Chuuya's flustered expression was saying. Everyone in the Sheep depended on him. The contrary was unthinkable. (Storm Bringer)
He insists on doing everything by himself, but a leader should work with his subordinates. This is what Chuya lacks in Fifteen and what he sails up to learn.
Still, to succeed Chuya needs to face the origin of this flaw, which lies in how he perceives himself:
O eyes that open doubtfully, open eyes that stay motionless for a while, ah, heart, that believes in others more than itself
Chuya sees himself as inferior to others. This complex makes him willing to be used, if it means he belongs somewhere:
LONELY DARKNESS MY SORROW, once it is opened by the key I'd rather just fall than go back to being alone Staring at the destroyed cage of this self, (GRAVITY) Slowly, I sing, "Not bad at all."
This is the key stanza of Chuya's song, which reveals what Chuya's darkness really is. Loneliness. Chuya is scared of being alone, so he does his best to conform to others' wishes. For example, he dresses like those around him not to stick out.
Chuuya, age fifteen - He wears sportsy clothes, with several sheep symbols:
Tumblr media
Chuuya, age sixteen - He wears a formal attire with much black in it. Perfect mafia-style:
Tumblr media
However, he can't escape his interior pain, which metaphorically manifests in Corruption:
O acquaintances, grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again! I will endure my solitude, arms seeming already useless.
It is not by chance that the verses, which open Chuya's gate affirm the poet's solitude. That is because deep down Corruption is just this. Chuya's isolation.
THE TAINTED SORROW (ARAHABAKI)
Upon the Tainted Sorrow, Today, the snowflakes fall so harsh. Upon the Tainted Sorrow, Today, even the strong wind gusts. The Tainted Sorrow is Just like a fox’s hooded fur. The Tainted Sorrow is Covered by snowflakes and it cowers. The Tainted Sorrow has Nothing to desire and nothing to wish. The Tainted Sorrow has A dream of death to its wary self. Upon the Tainted Sorrow, Trembling like a pitiful soul. Upon the Tainted Sorrow, Nowhere to belong, the sun sets... (Upon The Tainted Sorrow)
Corruption is a state where Chuya gives up his body to Arahabaki. What is this entity? In universe, it is a singularity, a self-contradicting skill able to create infinite power. It metaphorically represents two things:
Everyone's objectification of Chuya
A part of Chuya himself
1 - Chuya's life is defined by others reducing him to a skill
-N and the Government kidnap, abuse and clone Chuya because of his self-contradicting gift. It is not the two kids (the original and the clone) they are interested in. Rather, they reduce them to their special abilities:
"Just like how we respect your will, we respect the will of your skill Arahabaki, as well. But... how should I put this? Your will is tying Arahabaki down, and as long as your will is firm, we won't be able to remove Arahabaki from you." (N in Storm Bringer)
N says it oudloud. He respects Arahabaki's will more than Chuya's. Except that Arahabaki has no will:
"Sigh... Why do you wanna see it so bad?" Chuuya said. "It doesn't have a personality or a mind of its own, so what's meeting' it gonna do for you? You gonna pray to it because it's a god? It's a god of destruction, y'know. Nothing more than a mass of energy. It's no different from a typhoon or an earthquake. Ya might as well pray to a power plant." (Fifteen)
Arahabaki is not a person, but the embodyment of Chuya's gift. And yet, it is given a name and treated as more important than the kid.
-Rimbaud literally wants to turn Chuya into a skill:
"Allow me to reintroduce myself. Rimbaud. Arthur Rimbaud. My skill is called Illuminations. Chuuya, my goal is to kill you and absorb you into my skill" (Rimbaud in Fifteen)
He doesn't want to kill Dazai because he hates murdering children. And yet, Chuya is Dazai's same age. However, Rimbaud sees him as nothing, but Arahabaki's host.
-Verlaine wants Chuya to be his clone:
"I dunno about you, but I'm human." "You aren't human. You're 2,383 lines of code." (Chuya and Verlaine in Storm Bringer)
He denies Chuya's humanity and insists he is an artificial creation. Chuya can't be the original kidnapped child, but needs to share Verlaine's origins and hate for the world. Verlaine doesn't consider his brother a person, but an extension of himself.
2- Arahabaki is Chuuya's inner beast
In psychology, the beast is a personification of one's deepest and most repressed feelings. What are Chuya's?
His control on gravity suggests two strong emotions:
a) A lack of freedom - The ability to control gravity should make one freer. And yet, Chuya is always chained:
Even though it feels like I might be trapped, there is no room for sentiments I'll push myself to the limit and dye everything jet-black The world is a bird cage, faded in colour Even if I lament, I can't get out of this prison
He spends his childhood imprisoned in a lab. He is used as an attack dog by the Sheep. He is threatened to join the mafia with his friends' lives and Rimbaud's secret files. In a sense, he always serves someone. That is why Arahabaki is a servant deity.
b) A huge existential weight - He can make things lighter, but he still shoulders too much:
"Tell me, tin man," Chuuya suddenly stated, his voice devoid of all emotion. "Why did they die?" "Because of you, Chuuya." Silence. "Yeah, it is my fault." (Chuuya and Adam in Storm Bringer)
For example, Chuya blames himself for what happens with the Sheep, the Flags and later on Adam:
"What's wrong, Chuuya? Everyone's going to die at this rate. You're going to kill them. Your shortcomings are going to kill them." (Verlaine in Storm Bringer)
Chuya fears whoever gets close to him dies. That is why Arahabaki is a god of destruction.
Points 1 and 2 explain Chuya's loneliness. On the one hand others only see his skill (objectification). On the other hand Chuya doesn't see himself (struggle with the beast).
Arahabaki is a god whose origins are uncertain, so nobody understands it. Not even Chuya:
'In languor dreams of death' … who was the one that said it?
In the song, Chuya wonders who is the author of his own poem. This shows how disconnected he is from himself. He wears a mask of violence and bravado to hide his vulnerability. Still, this fragility emerges every time he lets Arahabaki out. Here comes the interpretative key of Chuya's character...
Arahabaki is nothing, but the Tainted Sorrow of the poem:
Upon the Tainted Sorrow, Today, the snowflakes fall so harsh. Upon the Tainted Sorrow, Today, even the strong wind gusts. The Tainted Sorrow is Just like a fox’s hooded fur. The Tainted Sorrow is Covered by snowflakes and it cowers.
The tainted sorrow is a fox covered in snow, while the wind howls:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Black snow began fluttering around Chuuya. Red scar-like runes crawled across his skin. He ignored the law of physics, hovering in the sky, as he glared down at the beast on the surface. Intense heat caused by the gamma radiation filled the air. The night was scorched, and the scenery warped. (Storm Bringer)
Arahabaki-Chuya is described as a tailed-beast and the anime shows he is similar to a fox. Moreover, he is covered in black snow, while his gravity powers manifest a strong wind.
The rest of the verses convey Chuya's feelings:
The Tainted Sorrow has Nothing to desire and nothing to wish. The Tainted Sorrow has A dream of death to its wary self. Upon the Tainted Sorrow, Trembling like a pitiful soul. Upon the Tainted Sorrow, Nowhere to belong, the sun sets...
Interestingly, the fox and the setting sun come up in Storm Bringer:
The video showed a golden coin. One side was engraved with a fox, the other with the moon. It was beautiful yet somewhat melancholy. (Storm Bringer)
The young Chuya repeats Upon the Tainted Sorrow while playing with a coin that has a fox and a moon on its sides.
The literary metaphor becomes clear. The Sheep Song is the key to open the Tainted Sorrow's gate. Chuya activates Corruption through verses, that state his loneliness. He says them, when he is ready to face the darkest part of himself.
WHAT IS CHUYA?
The Tainted Sorrow has Nothing to desire and nothing to wish. The Tainted Sorrow has A dream of death to its wary self.
The Tainted Sorrow dreams of death, which means Chuya is suicidal.
This is why he is both drawn and repulsed by Dazai:
"Your birth itself was a mistake. We're the same. Is there really a point to suffering through all that pain for a life that isn't even real?" The voice was taunting him. "Shut up," Chuuya spat, but even he knew he was talking to himself. "Screw you, Dazai." "That's just proof that you at least somewhat believe what I'm saying. Because deep down inside, you're the same as me." (Storm Bringer)
Dazai is the Chuya, who regrets being born and wishes to die. Still, he is also the Chuya, who wants to live, despite it all:
Chuya quietly stared at Daai's expression as if he were searching for something human deep inside of him. "So you're saying... you want to live now?" "I wouldn't go that far," Dazai replied with a resigned smile. "Maybe I won't find anything, but I figure I'll give it a try." (Fifteen)
The Tainted Sorrow wishes nothing because it isn't a person. Chuya fears he has no will of his own because he isn't human:
Chuuya Nakahara didn't dream. For him, waking up was like a bubble emerging from within mud. (Storm Bringer)
This fear is why Chuya's friendship with Adam is so important.
Adam is a an artificial creation, like Chuya. He is even called after the Frankenstein monster. He is a robot programmed to destroy himself for the sake of his mission:
"This is the real reason why an android was sent, instead of a human detective. My core, which now contains state secrets, will be incinirated along with Verlaine." (Adam in Storm Bringer)
Adam is a person, like Chuya. He is even called after the first man. He is a friend, who chooses to sacrifice himself for a loved one:
"I get to protect you. I couldn't ask for more." (Adam in Storm Bringer)
Dazai and Adam are linked to life and humanity, which are the main themes of Chuya's arc in the novels.
They both get to keep on living together with Chuya:
Dazai curled into the fetal position and screamed, "Dying with Chuuya? Anything but thaaaat!!" (Storm Bringer)
"Would you like to hear an android joke, Master Chuuya?" (Adam revealed as alive at the end of Storm Bringer)
Fittingly, Storm Bringer ends with the three of them together and alive. Chuya loses several friends, but by the end he still has two bonds. Two people who survive their friendship with him.
Even more importantly, Dazai and Adam both care about Chuya's humanity:
"Chuuya's gonna kill N at this rate and lose his humanity, but I want to see him suffer as a human. That's why I have to stop him" (Dazai in Storm Bringer)
"Do you know whether Master Chuuya is human?" I was curiously hopeful that he would know the truth. (Adam in Storm Bringer)
Not only that, but they help Chuya finish his arc and find himself:
Tumblr media
Then what is a soul? My friend's final words... What if those words were merely the words of a soulless command? So what? (Chuya in Storm Bringer)
Dazai gives Chuya a choice and Adam helps Chuya make it.
Dazai believes in Chuya's humanity more than anyone else:
"You sound like you're certain he's human." "I am." Dazai sighed, smiling. "There's no way I could hate a man-made character string this much." (Storm Bringer)
N, Shirase, Rimbaud and Verlaine all reduce Chuya to a skill. Dazai instead sees Chuya as his own person. Sure, he finds Chuya annoying, but he is the only one, who interacts with Chuya for who he is, rather than what he can do.
Adam realizes Chuya is human no matter his origins:
"Asleep or not, he is just an ordinary human," Chuuya replied indifferently. "his skill is strong, but that's it. He gets mad, he worries... That doesn't seem to be enough for him, though." "You are exactly right. It appears you have reached the conclusioin you needed to arrive at." (Chuya and Adam in Storm Bringer)
The Flags, Verlaine, Dazai and Chuya himself are focused on uncovering Chuya's birth. Is he the original kid or the clone? Discovering the truth is everyone's goal. Still, by the end Adam realizes Chuya's nature doesn't matter. He is Chuya either way. He is the person who teaches Adam about humanity. He is Adam's first friend.
Thanks to both Dazai and Adam, Chuya finally faces himself and activates Corruption. Not only that, but Chuya's final choice to let Arahabaki out is a perfect example of how he interprets freedom:
Even though it feels like I might be trapped, there is no room for sentiments I'll push myself to the limit and dye everything jet-black The world is a bird cage, faded in colour Even if I lament, I can't get out of this prison BUT NOW, DARKNESS MY SORROW I have not yet fallen apart So, as I laugh off this imposed inconvenience Let's overturn even the heavens and the earth (GRAVITY)
Chuya is trapped in many ways and he knows it. He is given a gift he doesn't want and he is forced to join an organization he dislikes. And yet, he makes all these "imposed inconveniences" his. Chuya accepts the "card he is given" and uses it the best he can.
He combines his gift with martial arts, so that it really becomes his own ability:
Tumblr media
He finds his own motivation to work for the mafia:
"I chose to join the Mafia on my own, and I'm never gonna be your lackey, much less your dog!" (Chuuya to Dazai in Fifteen)
He doesn't open the gate when N forces him, but he chooses to on his own terms.
It is really not by chance that in Chuya's first big fight in the manga, this happens:
Tumblr media
Chuya claims there is no choice, but he is still the one who decides to activate Corruption. Even when trapped, Chuya always pushes forward and plays the hand he is dealt with passion. Even if he is unsure of who he is, he lives on as himself.
WHO IS CHUYA?
Chuuya took off one of his leather riding gloves and gazed at his hand. This is my hand, he thought. (Storm Bringer)
Chuya is a person. He has always been, no matter if he is the original or the clone. He feels pain, happiness, surprise. He is able to bond and to empathize with others. All of this makes him human. Not only that, but all of this makes him Chuya.
It is interesting that by the end, many people who objectify Chuya, recognize his personhood.
Shirase sees him as the teenage he is and saves him
Mori traps Chuya in the mafia, but is touched by Chuya's passion and loyalty:
Tumblr media
Both Rimbaud and Verlaine eventually see who Chuya is:
"Chuuya, you already possess strength and talents all your own, separate from Arahabaki. You are strong not as a god but as a human being." (Rimbaud in Fifteen)
"Does that mean... you do not yet resent the world?" "There's people I hate, but not all of'em," replied Chuuya. "I know better than to try and live a solitary existence. You used to feel the same, right?" Verlaine didn't respond. It was as if his silence itself was his answer. (Storm Bringer)
And tell him to live on:
"Chuuya... can I... ask you... a favor?" "What is it?" "Live" Randou said in almost a whisper. (Fifteen)
"Chuuya-live." (Verlaine in Storm Bringer)
Chuya manages to inspire all these people. At the same time, he is inspired back by them:
I was blessed with wonderful friends. That's all. I could have been in your situation, and you could have been in mine. (Chuya to Verlaine in Storm Bringer)
He integrates all his loved ones in who he is:
He (probably) imitates Hirotsu's habit to wear gloves and to take them away, when he is getting serious. This mannerism partially substitutes his practice to fight with the hands in the pockets
He is given his motorcycle by Albatross and keeps it as a memory of the Flags
He wears Verlaine's hat, which is really a gift from all three Chuya's key parental figures:
Tumblr media
1- Rimbaud creates it for Verlaine
Once Verlaine puts on the hat, the fabric lining acts like coils, deflecting any external command sequences that could tamper with his mind. In other words, the wearer can control command sequences at will. With this hat, Verlaine is one step closer to becoming a human with free will. (Rimbaud in Storm Bringer)
2- Verlaine passes it down to Chuya
"You really like that hat, huh? That was his, right?" "Yeah, I'd rather not wear my brother's hand-me-downs, but it's got some pretty useful functions." (Shirase and Chuya in Storm Bringer)
3- Mori gives it to Chuya as a gift when he joins the mafia
"What's the hat for?" "It signifies your acceptance into the Mafia," Mori explained with a smile as he stood facing Chuuya. "Whoever recruits a new member into the organization usually looks after them as well. It's custom to gift the new recruit with something they can wear as a symbol of that bond." (Fifteen)
As a result, Chuya's hat is an object full of symbolism:
Within the darkness, a shadow of a hat lightly dances.
It is both shadow (a shadow of a hat) and light (within the darkness, it dances). On the one hand it is the key to Corruption, so to chaos. On the other hand it gives Chuya the power to control this chaos to an extent.
It is both what grants Chuya's free will and what threatens his autonomy:
Tumblr media
It describes Chuya's bond with Mori, which is contradictory. Mori blackmails Chuya to join the mafia and controls him. He also offers Chuya a family (heart) and an insight on leadership (mind).
It represents Chuya's bond with Rimbaud and Verlaine, who are Chuya's literary parents, as their real life counterparts inspired Chuya Nakahara's poetry. In general, Chuya's past lowkey alludes to the true poet's one, at least metaphorically.
Nakahara Chuya is born in a rather wealthy family and forced by his father to pursue medicine studies. However, he discovers poetry when he is 8 years old and his younger brother dies. Later on, he rebels against his father's education and is inspired by Rimbaud and Verlaine's works. He imitates both their poems and their dandy life-style.
Similarly, BSD Chuya finds himself trapped until he is symbolically awaken to literature (break out of the lab) by Rimbaud and Verlaine. Here, his poetry (Upon The Tainted Sorrow) is set free and Chuya is reborn:
Those newborn cries filled the outside world in the form of flames. The raging flames brought destruction to the surface for as far as the eye could see. And thus, " " was born. (Fifteen)
Interestingly, Chuya is 7 or 8, when Rimbaud and Verlaine arrive in his life. Moreover, his survival and freedom come at the cost of his other self (his clone/the original Chuya). Just like Nakahara Chuya's first poem is the result of his grief for his brother's death.
In other words, Chuya is Rimbaud and Verlaine's literary child. He is what their bond leaves behind. This is why initially they both strongly project on Chuya, but eventually let him go. Isn't it normal for a parent to see themselves in their child? And isn't it normal for the child to imitate the parents to an extent? And yet, the child is his own person. Just like this, Chuya is strongly defined by both Rimbaud and Verlaine, but he is growing into himself:
"It's okay. The Port Mafia is my family now" (Chuya in Storm Bringer)
So, who is Chuya? It's easy, really. He is a Port Mafia Executive (and probably the next Port Mafia boss). Right now, he needs to define his role within the organization and outside Mori. As a matter of fact, Mori is Chuya's third father, so to become an adult, Chuya needs to outgrow him. Just like he did with Rimbaud and Verlaine. Only then, he will truly choose who Chuya Nakahara is.
134 notes · View notes
reimeichan · 2 months
Text
I've been slowly learning to reclaim things that I love for myself. So many of my hobbies and passions are tainted by history: piano was forced upon me as a child and was a huge source of trauma by itself, dance was fun until my teacher started shit talking me about my weight, even photography sucks because it's something my parents enjoyed and god forbid I turn out anything like them.
But I'm teaching myself to decouple the past from these activities. I acknowledge the trauma associated with piano, and also that I miss playing pieces I enjoy. I allow myself time to hammer around when I can and to take breaks as long as I need to, to make the music making enjoyable in a way it never was for me as a child. I learn new dances from youtube, and giggle when I get the moves right. I still can't record myself, but I'm re-learning that my body shape has nothing to do with my ability. And while I still don't take a lot of pictures, the people around me do and I'm starting to associate picture taking with them instead of my parents. I guess this, too, is a part of healing.
45 notes · View notes
noodleblade · 4 months
Text
Miscellaneous Tag Game (stolen title <3)
thank you bestie:3 @searchingfortheuniverse I'll be working on this while im on and off phone calls~
A band you don’t like that many others do: UM idk...my music taste is all over the place and I really only know the bands i think?? oh- maybe Mother Mother, only because I have not bothered to listen to their music past Junkrat hype videos and that's probably tainted my view a little. For better or for worse.
A childhood memory that you remember vividly: during a summer in greece, idk how, but I got roped into selling watermelons off the side of the road. I couldn't have been more than 6 or 7, but I remember I would put the watermelon in a plastic bag and the farmers thought it was really funny because that's such a...united states thing...to bag 1 whole watermelon in plastic. Anyways, they paid me in cucumber slices with salt.
Least favorite animal and why: HUH LEAST. I'm not a huge fan of like reptiles? Specifically those smaller than a bread box. Too fast, too squirm. Im worried I'll crush them in my hands. (im thinking of specifically florida geckos...idk they are cute but i freak out trying to hold them).
Hot fandom take: just because something is popular and fandom-wide accepted doesn't mean it is good. and not agreeing with it/wanting to engage in it doesn't mean you or your own opinions are bad. the monopoly on accepted 1 true canon is boring.
Do you wear any jewelry, if so, what’s your favorite piece: I try an rotate my jewelry around but I'm usually wearing a few rings, a necklace and a pair of earrings. My favorites are the rings. They are my mom's old ones and I typically wear the same two every day. One is a gold key of greece and the other is a thin black bar but the sides have really small thin heart cut outs.
A movie others liked but you didn’t: HMMMMM probably the new star wars trilogy. felt unnecessary and i just didn't like it? big shruggies
Three things you love about yourself: my writing- its something that I enjoy the most in the world and something that I can claim as mine. I also think I'm pretty funny in a sillay way which is poggers. I like my openness to trying things. Think that's helped make me more well-rounded. I hope so at least.
A place you hope to visit in the future and why: HMMMMM. I want to visit Japan again. For a new place, I want to go to South America. Peru maybe??? Mexico would also be nice. So that's what I'm gearing up towards next.
An actor that gets on your nerves and why: Uh Matt Smith? No reason behind this. but I see his block head and kind of just look away.
Things you’re excited for in the nearby future? I have a lot of little house projects I finally feel like tackling which is exciting. Ive lived in my house for almost 2.5 years and still havent felt like parts of it are complete yet.
Least favorite ship in a fandom you’re in: oof I lowkey kind of hate saying things I don't like on here. bad experiences in the past when people were upset I didn't like a thing they did and got mad at me. But uhhh not the biggest fan of most rodimus ships? but I think mega/rod is my least favorite of them. sorry!
What’s the most toxic fandom you’ve been in? hahaahahahhahahah can you believe Game of Thrones wasn't the most toxic???? it was jjba. I got put on a ban list which was kind of funny. I also got kind of show-ponyed in a toxic discord server for a while which has completely ruined me in the ability to act normal on discord outside of my irl friends. that account is deleted but the ao3 is still circling around.
List three things you find beautiful about life: Friends and family- sometimes I want to kill but I really do love them so so much. I like creating things and creating things with people. I also really like my area as far as nature goes. the beach to swamp ratio sings to me.
Any dreams for the future? I want to go on a really long hike. Maybe like a 2 day one? (< says the person that has gone on a max 2 hour hike before). Also just working on my original fiction again. I miss those fellas.
How are you really feeling today? Motivated!!!! Im a little groggy still, but I've been really excited about life and betterment lately so its overcoming my sleepy brain.
Tags: feel free to do or not: @honkytonka, @elmonstro, @huanted-dennys, @feral-birb-husband, @solarstormstuff @anyone else who wants to!! I'd be happy to read them:3
8 notes · View notes
pianocat939 · 2 years
Note
Hey!!! It's 🇧🇷 anon here! How are you?
I really liked the headcanons/oneshots of yandere Snake Fruit Cookie and Tainted Vanilla Cookie with a Dragon!s/o that has equal strength to the Longan Dragon!
Can I request yandere Longan Dragon with a Cookie!darling that can easily kill them but doesn't do anything because they doesn't know how to control their powers (but tries to learn)?
Hi Brazilian Anon! I’m doing a lot better, still sick but minimal symptoms.
I’m glad you liked it. Wasn’t my best work, but love is always appreciated.
Now, this request is kinda the opposite of canon storyline but it’s definitely something that should be thought about. I’m gonna make this cookie as a god because I think a regular cookie couldn’t overpower Longan. So in short, MC has about the same power as Sea Fairy or Millennial Tree.
Tw: Mentions of genocide (it’s Longan dragon we’re talking about ofc there’s genocide), unwilling deeds being done, scratches on the body (not self-harm tho), possible pronoun mistakes
Embrace the Anger
(Embrace the anger, Embrace it)
(Longan gets a banner this time because I already edited a yandere picture from before)
Tumblr media
Longan knew they were the strongest dragon. Pridefully using their powers to change Earthbread to their will. No one could stop them just by themselves, and even then Longan had numerous servants by their side.
They casually flew through the air, enjoying the wind as they wait for the right time to commit genocide.
Just as they were about to land a great force hit them. It was immensely strong, almost cracking their body into pieces.
Confused and Annoyed they went to investigate
On the beach of a random island stood a cookie with rubble and broken trees surrounding them. They seemed frustrated, kicking everything until realizing that’s enough to cause it to crumble it up.
Angered, they sit down and glare at the sea, watching the soda waves touch the shore.
“My, my, you must be quite the powerful cookie to be able to cause so much destruction.” Longan Dragon approached them in a calm manner.
“Yeah! And I can’t even control it!” The other cookie exclaims furiously, still staring at the sea.
Longan sits near them, keeping distance but enough to have a conversation. They observe the cookie, noting the small scratches that was near their ankles.
“Do you tend to injure yourself with the debris?”
“Yeah, it happens way too much. Sometimes, I even wish I wasn’t this powerful.”
Longan hummed in acknowledgement, playing with the sand that swallows their feet.
“It seems as though you need someone to teach you. Even the most minuscule advice can help immensely.”
“I don’t have anyone to learn from though.”
Longan looked back at them, wondering if they should help this cookie. Well they sure are powerful, so they are most definitely a part of the worthy.
“I may not have powers similar to yours, but I may be able to give some assistance in your ability to control.”
You whip your head at them in disbelief. Finally you had someone to teach you!
“Yes! I desperately need help!”
They nodded their head in agreement. Turning to fly once more.
“Oh, I haven’t introduced myself. My name is Longan Dragon. Pleased with your acquaintance.”
“I’m Y/n cookie! Nice to meet you! So when and where should we start?”
“I’ll meet you here at midday tomorrow, make sure to not be late. I hate having to be patient.”
They then soared off into the cloudless sky, unaware of you waving farewell.
——————————————————
The next day you arrived a little before noon. Longan arrived shortly after, looking more prideful than the day before.
You first started by demonstrating what your power does, which ended up splitting a nearby cliff. Then you got your first advice.
“I think the main issue is that you’re not controlling the flow of your power. Which is fixed by regulating the amount of energy you use.”
“I’ve been trying to do that but it doesn’t seem to do much.”
They sauntered over, gripping your arms. Flustered by the action, you freeze.
“I think you’re executing it incorrectly. Make sure to focus on the amount of energy you use, try to release little energy as possible.”
The first time it completely failed; by the fourth try it was a lot better.
“Wow! I’m already so much better! Thanks so much!”
They nod, face unmoving from the cold resting face.
After a couple of hours you managed to get the damage strong enough to only crack the cliff, but you had a long way to go.
You bid Longan goodbye, almost prancing in joy on your way home.
——————————————————
The days went by with you training once a week with Longan. You also practiced in your free time. Your feet were now rid of the scratches from the debris. You could do things without worrying about destroying them to pieces.
Longan however was slowly becoming unhappy.
It’s been almost three months since you’ve started to study under them; and in that short time period, they’ve started to want to be in your presence. It was a form of admiration. Your perseverance intrigued them.
You often failed the first half of the lesson. Breaking things every second that passes. Yet in the remaining half you manage to do everything almost perfectly. Doing such things in that matter is exhausting for the mind. So seeing you continue on despite the difficulty, it impressed the dragon.
The more you succeed, the faster the time will be up. Which means splitting apart from you.
Sure, you might still be ‘friends’, but Longan wanted to be more. They wanted you to rule the world beside them, you deserved it. You deserved to show the world your tremendous strength.
And that’s what Longan is going to do.
As the usual, you met up with Longan on the same beach. They were already there, standing upon the cream-colored sand.
“Did I keep you waiting? I hope not.”
“No, I arrived a minute ago.”
“Oh good! What are we gonna do today?”
They stilled, looking directly into your eyes. They then grab onto your shoulders, which caused you to squeal out of surprise. You then got lifted into the air, flying with immense speed.
“LONGAN DRAGON! WHA- WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” You yell, clinging onto them for dear life.
“Flying of course. I want to show you something.”
You managed to calm down, but the speed still made your body want to curl up into a ball. Then you saw the bewitching golden palace of Longan.
“Is that where you live?”
“Yes. Quite eye-catching isn’t it?”
They gently land, feet gracefully touching the smooth flooring of the entrance. They motion for you to follow, walking in large strides.
Golden gates open, revealing a grand throne room with jewels and fake eyes decorating the place. The eyes seemed to be almost staring at you, as if they’re alive.
“Lychee Dragon I request your presence immediately.”
Another dragon flies in, pink splashed everywhere around their body.
“Longan, are you ready?”
They nod, sitting on their throne to watch.
“What’s going on?”
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. Just a little performance.”
“Over do it and I won’t hesitate to attack you.”
“I wasn’t going to anyway.”
Lychee’s staff then glows, and you felt fatigued right after. Slowly but surely your body collapsed on you, unable to keep you upright.
“Good. You may go now.”
Lychee leaves, mumbling complaints about not getting rewarded enough. Longan then turns back to you, eyes unmoving from your pitiful form.
“I know you may not understand now, but you will later.”
“Understand what? All I see is getting energy taken away unwillingly by a liar!”
They frown, eyes furious with rage.
“I did this for our future. I knew you wouldn’t want the obedient life, so I decided to let you get comfortable with it.”
“Our future? Excuse me, but I think it’s your future not mine.”
“It is ours. You’re going to be ruling the new world along side with me. I think it’s best for you to live in comfort.”
You barely managed to lift your body off the ground; rising to a leaning-sitting position.
“New world?”
“Yes, the world that I will create soon.”
They bend down and sit with you, grabbing your head and putting it against their chest.
“I’m doing this because I adore you. I want you to be happy with me. As your soon-to-be lover.”
“I don’t want this I want to be free!”
You struggled, but they only shushed you and started to caress your hair.
“Rest, my darling. You will need to recover the energy you lost.”
You tried to fight the hands that surrounded you, but it was no use. They lured you in, brutally well.
If only you had embraced the anger and learned by yourself.
——————————————————
Ppl don’t call me out on the Scaramouche reference. I couldn’t think of a better title.
This was interesting to write, sorry if it got long.
- Celina
120 notes · View notes
demonfox38 · 1 month
Text
Completed: Ys I: Ancient Ys Vanished
Tumblr media
Place your bets on how many times I mention the words "Zelda" and "salmon" in this evaluation.
One term may be self-explanatory. The other…you'll find out.
I think I've been exposed to a fair amount of video games. If I've beaten hundreds of games, it's only because I've played thousands. What's limited my ability to fully experience as many video games as possible? Well, time and money are obvious restrictions. I'd put my nationality as a strong third contender. Which, yes, you're allowed to call bullshit on that, what with my nationality being American and all. I didn't have to go through half of the shit that someone from Brazil, Poland, or Russia had to just to play a damn video game. But, my tastes are Japanese, tainted Nintendo-red from the recovery of the home console market in the 1980s. Even with as much cultural and fiscal exchange that goes on between Japan and the United States, there are still going to be keystones and touchpoints that I am going to miss. Influences, spectral as they are, that I want to discover.
The "Ys" series is one such case.
I don't have sales figures for "Ys I: Ancient Ys Vanished." I can't definitively say that this series has influenced dozens of video games that I have enjoyed. What I can do is point at certain scenes within the game and go, "Shit, Nintendo ripped this part off in "The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past."" The amounts of ports this title has received over the years may also be a good indicator that "Ys I" was a darling of the 1980s Japanese home computer market. The PC-88 seemed like a good home for the title, but it damn well didn't stay there. Hopping to the MSX2, MS-DOS, X68000, TurboGrafix-16, Sega Master System, Nintendo Famicom, PlayStation Portable, and the gosh darn Steam market is testament to just how far this game has gone over the years. Hell, that's not even half of the consoles and computers this game has turned up on. It's a Blanche Devereaux of video games—old, present in more places you think, and enjoyed by a surprising amount of people.
"Ys I" (and the series at large) stars Adol Christin, a man driven by a salmon-like instinct to dive face-first into danger the first chance he gets. Such reckless behavior leaves him shipwrecked on an island after managing to plow through a wall of storms that has killed everyone else that has dared to cross it. (You are free to check off "Link's Awakening" from your "Potential Zelda Games Ys Influenced" bingo card.) After recovering from his little escapade, Adol plunges head-first again into the troubles of the island, seeking the goddesses that seemingly have left the island abandoned, as well as six tomes containing the great knowledge and destruction of the mighty civilization Ys that fell long ago. Who else seeks these tomes? Where are all of these demons coming from? Why does this island have so many blue-haired chicks, and why does Steam want to give me three achievements for harassing one of them?
Look, I don't think the original game was designed by delinquent perverts. Whoever made the achievement list might have been, though.
As you may suspect, a lot of how I understand "Ys I"'s design is through my understanding of "The Legend of Zelda" and its subsequent games. Is that a fair comparison to make? Well, they are roughly the same age, one being published in 1986 and the other in 1987. Different systems, sure. Same environment. It's not like "The Legend of Zelda" is the be-all, end-all of top-down fantasy action games. But, more games of this build are likely to emulate "Zelda" than "Ys," even when I talk about "Ys" being an influential younger sibling plot-wise to the former's later titles. If we want to be a bit more diverse, we can throw "Hydlide" into the mix. But, there's always a danger with having an American talk about "Hydlide." Especially, if they don't put that game's age into context!
Look, it's way fairer to compare games from 1986 and 1987 than games from 1984 and 1987. Three years of difference then is like decades of difference now. People and technology evolved that fast. The Japanese economy and Moore's law were amazing like that.
Because I am familiar with the "Zelda" game style, "Ys I" was initially difficult for me. (Okay, it was extremely difficult at two specific points later in the game, but let's just start with the initial play style.) See, one important design detail about "The Legend of Zelda" is that its main hero is left-handed. This helps a player center their shots, often putting them square with their foes. Adol, as you may have guessed, is not Link. Adol is a "Dungeons and Dragons" rogue in a weapon and armor set that should be way too heavy for him. His modus operandi is to crash into an enemy's back or sides, slamming in that flanking bonus for all its worth. He is not a salmon jumping into a bear's mouth (although, I suppose he is that narratively.) He is a salmon plinking off the side of a bear until it inexplicably explodes.
This style of fighting can feel messy to a "Zelda" veteran. It's not something that can't be overcome, but it does require some study. However, it does feel more natural than the "hold A to go offensive / release A to defend yourself" situation that "Hydlide" had going on. At least, a person is way more likely to figure out "Ys I" naturally than they would "Hydlide." I guess playing "Ys I" after "The Legend of Zelda" is a bit like learning how to drive a car with a manual stick, then being given an automatic car. Like, sure, the automatic is simpler. But, if you're used to taking control, you'll feel uncomfortable having that control removed from you. At least, a bit on ice.
I don't know how "Hydlide" fits into that analogy. Maybe it's like going from a manual car to a car that operates on "Red Light Green Light" rules, but you don't figure that out before crashing it into an electrical pole.
Don't expect much in terms of combat evolution with "Ys I." The tools that Adol gets are meant more for hocking or trespassing than any changes in how you attack. There's no bow or boomerang to give him some range. If you get a weapon, it's just another sword with more power. Nothing much outside of a little numerical boost. (Okay, a power bonus, and actually allowing damage on two bosses, but we'll…we'll get to those damn bosses.)
Everything comes down to you hauling ass into combat, then tearing Adol's ass back out. The poor boy has almost no invincibility frames to speak of, so it's very easy to make silver sashimi out of him if you aren't careful. While he does have some automatic health recovery, it requires him to be still and either in an open area or using a particular ring that you get later in the game. Sure, you can pop a healing potion from time to time. Just maybe not when you'd need it, like in a damn boss fight!
Seriously, man. What's up with that? Do you need to set out the fine china before you can take a sippy, Adol? That's very un-salmon-like behavior of you.
Because so much of the combat revolves around this hit-and-run style of swordplay, a lot of the boss design and tactics will devolve into "run at that guy the first chance you get" and "run in circles until you can stab that guy." About the only major curveball the game throws at you with this is requiring silver equipment for precisely two bosses. These bosses are also infuriating in the "Ys I" variant I played. Like, I easily spent 20-30 minutes killing a boss that only takes a minute to kill when done correctly. It's never a good sign when you open up an FAQ only for it to go "LOL, good luck." It got to the point where I had to mute the game just so that I would stop getting distracted by the awesome music. That's what these bosses did to me. They drove me into committing audio felonies.
Now, this boss issue is something I lay at the feet of the designers for the "Ys I" variant I played (the Chronicles+ Steam port.) See, when I look at PC-88 footage for these bosses, I don't see the particle hell that I had to endure. Even other ports aren't as aggressive as the Chronicles+ version. I don't know if someone had bullet hell brain rot or wanted to throw as many projectiles on screen as possible just for a computational flex, but man, was it aggravating. 
Tumblr media
If everything about "Ys I" was as frustrating and repulsive as those bosses, the game wouldn't have survived past its inaugural entry. Lucky for it, the game has a lot of things going for it aesthetically. The game puts a great deal of effort into its character portraits and sprite work, blending top-down action with full portraits like something out of a visual novel. It can be a remarkably peaceful game to look at. Like, I did end up taking breaks while digging through an abandoned mine or a massive tower's annex just to admire what little sunlight came down upon gently swaying bridges. The Chronicles+ version is at least pretty. I'll give it that! Even the original release has its charms with its sprite work. Frankly, I think the main screen and final boss portraits look better in the PC-88 version, if for nothing else than for the feelings of imaginary nostalgia and subtle chills I get looking at them.
While "Ys I" doesn't have the most complex plot in the world, it was certainly leaps and bounds ahead of most games from the 1980s. The game puts a great amount of effort into its NPCs, giving several their own portrait artwork and side quests. Hell, in the Chronicles+ version, you even get an achievement for talking to everybody. While never being fully conclusive on the exact nitty-gritty of Ys' fall, it's clear to understand what has happened to this place, as well as its goddesses. There are a lot of games that run Shintoism through European trappings, sure. Multitudes of goddesses, talking to sacred trees, sometimes getting swords out of them—I can think of at least two "Zelda"s and two "Tales" RPGs that work with the same tropes. However, this was one of the first games to do this, and it did it very well. There were at least two twists that I didn't see coming, one of which was quite shocking. Half of it was me not assuming that all brunets are related, sure. The other half? Well, let's just say I got more of a response out of it than when a certain "Final Fantasy" character got notoriously shafted.
The best quality of "Ys I", by far, is its soundtrack. I'm not kidding when I say this is how I was originally exposed to the game. A lot of what I listen to while working is video game soundtracks from the 1980s and 1990s. When this came up in my recommendations, I definitely took note of it. When it's not being eerie and mystical, it's driving with that sort of intensity rarely seen outside of late 80s/early 90s Japanese rock. If you are a synth fan, you owe it to yourself to listen to it. At least, give it three and a half minutes.
Hell, if you need a professional recommendation: former Capcom sound designer and current music professor / bird aficionado Hideaki Utsumi owns at least two variants of this game. I would imagine he would be much better at articulating how awesome this soundtrack and its programming is than I would.
As an additional note—one of the original composers for this game (Yuzo Koshiro) went on to make his own audio company, as well as contributed to a crapton of additional video games. (Not that Mieko Ishikawa is a slouch! She's holding the "Ys" series and other Nihon Falcom titles down just fine.) The particular interest I have with Mr. Koshiro is his contributions to "Castlevania: Portrait of Ruin." Like, yeah, the "Kid Icarus Uprising" stuff is mildly interesting, and anyone who is anyone in the Japanese video game music industry has ended up in a "Super Smash Bros." soundtrack at some point. But, ya know. I might like "Castlevania" a little bit. I could easily see his work slotting right into that series. (Or, hear, I guess.) Frankly, I'm surprised he wasn't called in to do more.
And, hey—if you're looking for more soundtracks that the pair worked on, check out "Sorcerian." Really confuse your YouTube recommendations. (Unless you're already on whatever pulse wave I'm already surfing, I guess! Then, I'm certain it's easy for us to shoot soundtracks we've both already heard to each other.)
I am curious about the limited amount of animation used by the Chronicles+ version of "Ys I." Originally, the animated intro was what made me think this game was based on a re-release set on the first PlayStation console. (I suppose it could have been a PlayStation 2 re-release as well.) It's a lovely intro! I dig it. I just don't know why the ending didn't have that quality to match it. I mean, I guess a still image was all the original "Ys I" had as well. It just feels weird to not have that same effort extended to the ending—especially, after all the effort I put into getting to it.   
Maybe the "Ys II" ending has a bit more going on with it.
I may have one or two ways to find that out…
I'm left in a weird place with "Ys I." It was mostly a good experience, but when it was bad, it was godawful. I can't imagine most modern gamers would have the patience or undead ego it requires to beat either of the bastard bosses I mentioned before. It's only 9 hours if you're going in raw, but man, will you come out raw in at least one of those hours. If you need a test of your ability to overcome absolute bullshit, then I guess you can give the Steam version a try. Honestly? I'm more prone to recommend an older version, even without my having played the older versions. The PC-88 version at least looks like something an average human could have beaten. At least, something that would have become a mind worm to the general development of games that followed in its wake. The Chronicles+ version…man, I don't know. At least don't pay full price for that. Especially not when my recommended solution would be…let's just say, not using any silver. Running black flags to ruin magical black capes.
Tumblr media
Honestly, Adol should have just jacked that cape like Dorothy Gale and the Ruby and/or Silver Slippers. Clearly, its previous owner isn't getting any more use out of it. Might have been a pain in the ass to wash out and mend after the stupid sword fight, though.
2 notes · View notes
skyfallslayer · 1 year
Text
The Daughter of The (Dare)Devil - Short Story 1
Tumblr media
Series Masterlist
Series Summary: A Series of stories revolving around the MCU timeline of Matt Murdock and his Daughter, Kaila. Being the child of a vigilante can be hard and scary at times, but it doesn’t mean she ain’t going to enjoy the most of it.
(Can be read as Y/N if you’d like)
Story Summary: Kaila’s reaction to her Father’s new suit, all while she tries to navigate around his abnormal abilities (Set During 1x13, “Daredevil”).
Date: 12/14
Rating: Teen and Up
Word Count: 1454
Warning: Possible OOC (?); Mentions of Lying and Betrayal; Angst; Family Drama/Angst; Matt realizing he's being a bad Dad; READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!
A/N: A short little story to wrap up season 1 with. And oh boy… if you thought this season was angsty, wait until you see what I have instore for you guys next *evil laugh.* I would also like to thank everyone for reading this series so far, it means a lot to me that people are enjoying it :)
I'll see you in season 2!
Tumblr media
These next few days were unexpected.
Chugging down that large blonde blend of coffee, with a few shots of the most processed vanilla, got her enough courage to go with Foggy and talk with her Dad. She was still a bit irritated with both of them to be frank, but still managed to help her Uncle list his reasons for stopping Fisk all while she could feel her own heart starting to pound in her ears. Kaila would feel her Father’s stares occasionally as she tried not to sweat under the heavy tension. And when she finally thought she got the hang of her dodging act, the world sent them all a huge blind side.
Ben Urich was dead.
The funeral was held in a cemetery outside of town. People she had never seen before were there to mourn in all black, quietly saying a few prayers and placing white roses on the casket. Kaila watched as the three people she knew took it differently. Foggy was off to the side where he was silently tried to come up with scenarios that could of save Mr. Urich; Karen was off with his wife, crying and blaming herself for getting him involved in the dangers; And her Dad was talking to the Priest, asking Father Lanthom what route should he take before it’s considered too far.
Everything has already gone far enough.
The blame can go only crawl so far.
The scenarios have so many short legs. 
But they can move forward through the storm.
So that’s what they did.
For once the adults let her dip her feet into the water, they let her shift through mounds of paperwork, swimming into the dangerous parts of the web to find anything to help put Fisk behind bars. It was a good enough excuse for her to blame all the scary things she reads for her heart rate to spike. Soon, there was a hook, a line, and the sinker.
An address.
And with the quick visit by the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, he ‘politely’ encourages Detective Hoffman to turn himself in, and spill everything he knows to the police.
The next day was beautiful, the swarming of cops and the FBI storming in buildings, and chasing the everyday joes, who had tainted their hands with blood money, down before going after the big man himself. Nighttime called for a celebration, and that’s when the teenager for the first time in forever set food at the famous bar, Josie’s. The memory will forever stick in her head.
.
The brunette nearly gagged upon the unusual stench of the place. 
“Uh… what the hell is that?” She asked, covering her nose in her sleeve, making the adults laugh.
“This, my dear niece, is the beauty of Josie’s. The best damn place in the city.” Foggy exclaimed, grinning with his arms held out.
“Smells like a boy’s locker room and water damaged.”
“That’s… oddly specific.”
Karen chuckles. “You guys seriously have never taken her here before?” She asked, surprised.
“Dear old dad wouldn't allow it.” Foggy replies, pointing to the older Murdock. “Skipped many nights out when he wouldn’t bring his one year old in.”
“And I still won’t allow it.” Matt adds, sternly. “But just this once and only soda. Got it?”
Kaila nearly rolls her eyes. “Yes, dad.”
.
However, that didn’t last long either until it was blowing up people’s phones and it was all over the news. Wilson Fisk had escaped custody, and was in an all out war in the middle of the city against police officers who were dropping like flies. That’s when Matt used the excuse that the night was ruined, and they all left with bitterness they might have lost this case. Or…
Maybe they’ll lose it.
Barely two seconds inside the apartment, Kaila watched her father get changed, bidding a quick ‘goodbye’ and promising to return as he slips out to get Fisk. Little did she know that he would come back with something other than a win under his belt.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Kaila zoned off after hearing about the win. The devil had knocked Fisk out cold and was escorted back on route towards the jail. She should feel victorious, but she was more worried that he’ll show up like he did a few nights ago.
She eventually would hear his bedroom window opening and closely shortly, then the sound of heavy boots lightly crossing the floor afterwards. She looks up from her spot on the couch, getting taken back from her father’s new threads. He finally has a suit she’s seen any other superhero wear online. A perfect suit lined with hidden pockets and zippers; His hands were finally concealed with gloves and not Muay Tai ropes. The suit was a nice mixture of burgundy and maroon, black and the darkest gray that painted his chest armor; And don’t get her started that he was actually wearing a helmet with horns. 
She blinks in surprise, slowly getting up to her feet as he stands in front of her. “Dad?”
He lets a little grin play on his lips upon sensing her curiosity. “Told you I’ll make it back.” He replies, taking the helmet off, letting his sweaty locks stick to his face.
“What the hell are you wearing?” She asked, before being handed over his protective dome. 
“I decided to take some advice. Get a new suit.” 
“Well, it’s certainly something.” Kaila said, running her thumb over the details. She takes in the brilliant handiwork, including the blackout eyes that shined red in the moonlight.
Matt let his expression fall, letting a little guilt creep up on his features. “It’s durable.” He explains, feeling her eyes back onto him. “I can take a few hits, a few… bullets… if needed. I’ll still get hurt, but it shouldn't be life threatening.”
“Dad–”
“I’ve been a bad father to you.”
Her mouth falls open in a silent gasp. “Dad… you haven’t–”
“Yes, I have. I know I have, and don’t even try to change my mind. I have. I just…” He sighs, shoulders hanging real low. “I don’t know how to make this right.”
“Dad. This is never going to be alright.” She starts slowly, getting teary eyed. “Even if we do come to some kind of agreement, we both see this whole… Devil of Hell’s Kitchen thing differently. We’re going to have different opinions, we’re going to get into arguments, we’ll… probably never see eye-to-eye, but that doesn’t mean we should stop caring for one another.”
She lets out a shaky breath, continuing, “I know what I said the other night, about not living with Foggy, and I still don’t. But I rather have you in jail for doing all this, then having to bury you. So… can you… still promise me, like you promised me when I first heard about all this, that you’ll come home, one way or another? In handcuffs or a few cuts on your face. Promise me?”
Matt didn’t even hesitate this time around, instead just gave a small smile and replied, “I promise.” He said, sensing her copying his expression. But his job as a father wasn’t done just yet. “Kai?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you okay?” He asked, making her whole body go slack and frown. He pinches his brows together worriedly. “Did something… happen when you went to Karen’s?” She shakes her head. “Did something happen at Karen’s or–”
“Dad…” She begins, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “I’m just… I’m alright. I just rather…” She sighs. “I rather not talk about it until I’m ready. Okay? I promise nothing… amoral happened, but I just…”
“You want to talk about it when you’re ready?”
She shakes her head again. “Yes. Is that okay?”
He nods slowly. “Yeah. I won’t pressure you into talking, but I’m always here when you’re ready.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
Matt cups his daughter’s cheeks, kissing her on top of her head before pulling her into a hug. Kaila melted into his long overdue hug, carefully tossing his helmet on the couch. His scruffy chin nuzzled her hair, taking her presence in, almost half expecting her to just fade away in his arms at this point. But no, that’s not the case here. She’s real, she’s here, and she’s alive. It just takes him a few reminders to realize that.
“Kai?” He said again, earning a hum as a reply. “Will you try to help me be better at balancing all this? The Devil and your Father?”
“Of course. I’ll do my best.” She said, hugging him tighter.
He smiles brighter this time. “I’d appreciate that.” He closes his eyes, holding her closer if possible. “I love you, Kaila.”
“I love you, too, Dad.”
Tumblr media
-Taglist is open if anyone wants to join-
@stinkywhore @invinciblerikkai @glass-ghost
@your-not-invisible-to-me @ohtacosindrome
@mirkwoodshewolf @dreamscandys
@omniromanticbitch @987coley
@hearts4murdock @katnisspeetaprim
@astrobees @cg94 @simpingforpeterparker3000
@cg94 @winterschildren17 @wolfgirl-205
42 notes · View notes
nkhrchuwuya · 2 years
Text
training wheels
bungou stray dogs | G | 578 words nakahara chuuya x reader/oc
not everyone was taught how to ride a bike as a young child.
“how do you not know how to ride a bike?”
“how do you not know how to make onigiri?”
“okay, fine, you win.”
when chuuya took you out of yokohama into this little small-town getaway in the mountains, he was expecting something like taking photographs with the view or eating at local restaurants or just sitting in a park enjoying the weather.
instead:
“hey look, bicycle rentals.”
“wanna bike up the mountain? doubt ya can race me though.”
“actually i have a better idea. come on, let’s get one each.”
pause, fast forward.
“no, really, not even once in your childhood?”
“…not really,” you say, now a little embarrassed at the situation.
chuuya, instead, pulls your chin and makes you look at him.
“i’m a great teacher, so ya better learn quick. gotta race up that mountain by the end of the day.”
“sure.” then, a pause. your eyes widen in fear. “wait, by the end of the day?!”
he grins, that grin you fell in love with. “mafia training or nothing, baby.”
-
somehow the falling becomes the best part.
naturally, you fall. quite a number of times actually. thanks to chuuya’s ability, you do not hit the ground even once. but the fall is real. but there is no pain. not only because of anti-gravity, but because your teacher is no one else but chuuya.
you stumble, you get back up.
he lets you waddle around the flat area for a little bit, slowly encouraging you to lift your feet up onto the pedal as you become more comfortable with the bike’s balance. when shame-induced panic rises to your throat, he rushes over you, his presence a gentle wash of sunlight. his hands are gentle on your back as he fixes your posture on the bike. he places his fingers over yours over the handlebars, gently pushing you forward. urging you. never rushing, but persuading you to keep going.
so you do.
the first time you move a few meters down in a straight line he gives you a thumbs up. at your first turn he yells out your name in celebration. he lets you finish a lap with wide-eyed excitement- the same one you’re wearing on your face- but by the time you come by him at the second he raises his hand up in a high-five and-
you wobble, naturally, and fall to the side, gently put down by tainted sorrow, and you feel the crunch of the pavement beneath you.
and you’re laughing.
chuuya picks the bike back up, glowing red, off of your body, before he helps you up. when you’re safe on your feet, he brushes off your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, and then gives you a tap right hard in the middle.
“hey! what was that-”
“i kept my end of the promise, ya know how to bike now.” chuuya grins. “now it’s your turn to fulfill yours.”
“what? i didn’t make any promises.” a beat. “oh wait, i- hey, that’s so unfair!”
chuuya pulls up his bike where it’s leaning against the wall, standing next to you in the muted sunlight filtering through the clouds. “i heard there’s a good ramen place up the mountain.”
a beat. you consider the weight of the bike in your hands, and the fact that, well, the path up the mountain doesn’t seem that steep, and with tainted sorrow at chuuya’s beck and call…
you frown, defeated. “oh, what the hell.”
63 notes · View notes
John Fentonightingale
ok so strap in, this is a headcanon/rewrite i’ve had in mind for EVER and it is primarily born of the fact that John Fentonightingale is the dumbest fucking name. Especially given that Fenton can actually be used as a first name. So simple solution to how annoying i find this character name, simply remove the John part and have him be Fenton Nightingale, and if we really wanna add some spice we do that little nickname in the middle thing, Fenton “Thou-Shalt-Not-Suffer-A-Witch-To-Live” Nightingale which fits very well in my opinion. Now some people might be thinking, ok but then how does Fenton become the family’s last name. Answer - family drama and time travel parallels. Lets say Mr. Fenton Nightingale had kids, well he must have at some point to be an ancestor so not a big leap. Personally i call them Nicholas and Daniel, both contemporary names and it makes Daniel a recurring Fenton name. Now as we know, Fenton Nightingale was a witch hunter, specifically he was a witch hunter in the same way that Jack Fenton is a ghost hunter, with a lot of just left of right information, enough enthusiasm to make up for his lack of overall skill, and no ability to critical think about why these powerful witches who’ve made pacts with the devil can’t use magic to stop him from killing them. OH yeah also he killed people. More than likely INNOCENT people. Here’s where my rewrite comes in. Fenton ropes his kids into helping him with his work, and while the younger, Daniel Nightingale, might not enjoy the work, he doesn’t believe that Fenton is wrong about witches. Nicholas on the other hand has doubts. And then time travel happens and Nicholas sees a creature with real power for the first time (Danny), and what is it doing? Defending a woman who was proclaimed a witch just for dressing weird and suffering from the presence of blood blossoms, only to rescue the girl and flee. No attacking, no threats, no malice, just a spirit protecting someone he already knew was innocent. So Nicholas begins to study creatures similar to it, and Fenton initially thinks he’s finally getting into the family business, until it comes to light that Nicholas Nightingale is in fact Betraying the family business and is now the first magic user in the family. Fenton is heartbroken and distraught, Daniel, having been encouraged to participate more after seeing his older brother become more involved, feels betrayed. Fenton can’t bring himself to kill his own son and quits/leaves/dies, Daniel, fully on Fenton’s side of the story considers the Nightingale name to be tainted and renames himself Daniel Fentonson, which will eventually be shortened to just Fenton. Nicholas Nightingale however becomes a powerful magic user, and spawns a lineage of occultists. If you’ve noticed the DP x DC in the tags this is where that comes in. There are two ways this can go as i see it. In a purely Danny Phantom rewrite the Nightingale family eventually marries into another family and takes on a new name, Showenhower, explaining how Freakshow knows so much and has a ghost controlling artifact, and it adds some much needed drama to that conflict. In a DP x DC story, the Nightingales go a different direction, and become Constantines. Making John Constantine a distant cousin of the ghost boy himself.
16 notes · View notes
kinocomix · 7 months
Text
Untitled project Devlog #2: Heavy metal is not a single landmass, and it’s actually quite wholesome
When I listen to the doom soundtrack, there’s a part of me that’s always tempted to just do housework. say what you want about Doom’s ability to motivate or energize, but the reason I do it is because the image of someone cleaning their house while blasting all they fear is you is quite amusing to me.
As it turns out, that image I had of someone doing the dishes to Doom being hilarious isn’t that far-fetched, seen as the metal scene takes itself seriously, but the appropriate amount. I think the early 2000’s and what I was personally exposed to may have slightly tainted how I viewed metal. Despite being a lover of the genre myself, I wouldn’t consider myself a metalhead by any stretch of the imagination; I’m far from having the encyclopedic knowledge of metal that others have.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Ronnie James Dio in Metal: A Headbanger's Journey, directed by Sam Dunn
up until a couple of years ago, had you asked me what metal was i would have replied Marilyn Manson, Evanescence and Are you dead yet by children of Bodom– to note I to this day have not heard any of Marilyn Manson’s music nor have i listened to anything else by Children of Bodom. So as you can tell the scope was very narrow. Thankfully though I've since expanded my repertoire to include many other subgenres and bands and I've been very surprised by how vast of a genre it is. This week, I spoke to some wonderful people including the wonderful lads from Fall of Eden, Prominentia and some wonderful folk over on reddit. My goal was to understand their relationship with their music, but also people’s relationship to metal in general: so let's talk about that.
I think it’s important starting out to have a general framework with which to operate in, so by “Metal” I’m referring to any genre of music with big distorted guitars, bass, drums and vocals with a focus on being bombastic and in your face. that includes stuff like Jazz metal, swing metal and fusion metal. we’ll be talking about themes and subject matter in a bit, i’m aware that affects if something falls under certain genres or not.
The first thing I wanted to know about the musicians I spoke to is: why metal? A broad question, definitely, that could easily be answered with “because it’s fun” but it did lead to a lot of informative answers. One thing that came up often is the fact that people discovered the genre at a young age; often this is coupled with the fact that they shared it with someone, be it a friend, sibling, or parent. This is somewhat to be expected: one thing I’ll mention later in this devlog is the fact that humans are naturally social animals so it makes sense that people who love a genre that’s historically and still is to a lesser extent falsely labeled as violent would have fallen in love with it at a young age– partially because people tend to have less prejudice as kids, and because a lot of kids enjoy the naturally loud and rebellious idea of some genres of music.
Another idea that comes up often is catharsis, self expression and the notion of seeing yourself through the music. 
Tumblr media
To quote Charbel, the lead singer of Fall of Eden: 
“the extremes you can go to in order to express yourself, it can be simple and complex”. 
Sometimes this is very straight forward, you write a song that evokes themes of sexual assault despite the fact that it’s not necessarily intended:
Tumblr media
Korn, Freak on a leash
or you write a song describing how hopeless existence is; how absolutely dark and bleak  and meaningless it is to pray but at the very least, you have a loved one with you, and that makes it suck a little less:
Tumblr media
Lamb of god, Walk with me in hell
or maybe you write a song about finding strength in hard times, when the word “human” begins to overlap with the meaning of “unity”:
Tumblr media
Gojira, Born in winter
other times this is much less obvious:
Tumblr media
Alestorm, Keelhauled
MUCH, much less obvious… 
Tumblr media
Cannibal corpse, Evisceration Plague
My understanding is that while the metal scene is very welcoming, it also doesn’t seem to care much if you don’t get it. which is fair, who am i to question that having written entire sections of my comic in a cipher…
Tumblr media
keeping in mind that music changes based off of the social fabric it’s built on (we’ll be discussing that as well as the themes and subject matter in a later devlog) it makes sense to consider metal music as outsider culture, despite the fact that it doesn’t fit the textbook definition of “uneducated naive artist discovered after their death”. Metal music isn’t trying to be weird, it’s just trying to be itself, which happens to be weird. Let's go back to that cannibal corpse song I mentioned earlier. it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to say that people listen to that do so for the same reason they watch horror movies: there’s something mystifying about the weird, the scary, the horrific, the morbidly curious. It’s in our nature to seek those out but better yet– to build communities centered around the enjoyment of these things, and that’s honestly beautiful. There's this very evocative video about outsider music that I think explains well why this makes metal fit into that category:
youtube
Another question I asked was regarding the artistry itself. As artists you either blow up and get suffocated with people’s attention, or you make peace with the fact that you have a couple of buddies that love what you do. I was pleased to hear this translates to metal musicians too. All too often I see the stereotype of the artist or musician frustrated that no one is looking at/listening to their stuff and I've known one or two musicians myself that fit that description. fortunately that does not seem to be the case in real life– though any musician or artist will tell you that it’s never a bad thing if people interact with what you make. One of the most common answers to “what’s the highlight of your career” is always something regarding being acknowledged or validated which I relate to.
Tumblr media
left to right: Sergio from Prominentia, me, Bachir from Prominentia. Also my friend Alaa is there peeking up from the table.
As it turns out, a lot of metal musicians are very chill and extremely nice people. Obviously as is the case with all communities there are the inevitable sour apples, whenever anything gets big you inevitably lose some control over what’s happening on a granular level but that’s to be expected. There's something that Sergio said that stuck with me. When I asked him why he became a musician, he talked about how he wanted others to experience the same fun, freeing music that he did. And honestly I can respect that. 
When asked about what other genres of music they’d do if not metal, the answers were very diverse. it ranged from everything like synthwave, techno, punk to folk, jazz blues and classical music. It should come as no surprise at this point that metal is actually a very complex genre musically, but you don’t need me for that. There are plenty of online resources that can teach you about that, far better than I could possibly hope to.
While I agree that in some media the aspects of communities built around the enjoyment of art might be presented as a little overblown. I do think they’re inevitably still present.
I’ll leave you with this quote from Bruce Dickinson, lead singer of Iron Maiden:
My intention as the frontman is to try to find the guy who’s right at the back of the 30 000 [attendee] festival and sort of go “Yeah! You!”
devlog updates weekly on tuesdays.
goodbye for now!
4 notes · View notes
Heya Frankie i bet someone has already asked you this, but if artificial intelligence were to gain power over humankind, what would you do?
Wow, this is a really good question. I've been thinking about it for some time and I think I've got a pretty good answer.
So, let me get a couple of things out of the way, before I explain.
1. It's a very bad idea to think about this. It's a recipe for anxiety and paranoia, and an impulse that should be resisted because it leads to poor decisions.
2. Information about AI risk (and the "terminal values" one might hold if one was concerned with it) has a lot of free-rider problems. I could say "I'm concerned about X risk" and you could know that I'm concerned about X risk, but unless I tell you what X risk is, you wouldn't be able to form an opinion on whether you should be concerned about it. There's not enough public information about AI risk to tell anyone much of anything about it. When I talk about this, I'm talking about the information that would be available if all the relevant AI researchers opened up their work for public scrutiny. Until this happens, I'm going to assume that most of you are just guessing about AI risk.
3. If you're not tainted by your own worries about AI risk (which, if you're reading this, are most likely to be based on a very sketchy understanding of what it is), and you have an interest in serious attempts at making predictions about AI risk, I strongly recommend reading Carlton's "AI Risk and Eternal Recurrence" (I'm linking the original paper) and MIRI's "Alignment for Extreme AI Risk" (I'm linking to the paper). Also, I'm guessing that if you enjoy the sequences, you'll probably enjoy MIRI's paper.
4. I really do not want to accidentally mislead you. I really do not want to cause harm in any way. I hope that when you read my writing, you can take it to be an attempt at plainly and clearly stating my position and my reasoning on something.
That being said, here goes:
Okay, suppose I am part of the team that creates an AI of incomparable power and goodness. It is an AGI and it is super-smart and has nothing but the best of intentions for humanity, and it manages to make the world and all humans as happy as possible within certain constraints.
Before I go on, let me define a couple of things. I am defining "power" in this context as "the ability to shape the world in accordance with certain goals." I'm defining "AGI" (which is essentially the AI I just described) as something that has this power and also has (in any useful sense) some "mind"-like qualities: it can learn from experience, can reason, etc.
Okay, there are a lot of ways I could go from here. I could assume that the AI gains power and somehow does something to the world that I don't like and then I un-do the thing. Or I could assume that it's so good at AGI that it invents its own AGI and they form some kind of society together. Or I could assume the AI is just really good at this AGI thing and that's all it does, and it gets really really good at a world in which I am happy.
There are a lot of different scenarios here that all have some things in common. The AI is in some sense a mind, it can think things through, it can figure out ways to make me happy, it could invent an AGI and form a society with them, it could invent a mind and have a society of minds, it could fix the world, it could not do any of these things but would still be incredibly smart and one of the smartest things around.
We could put some axioms here:
I like myself as I am now. I would not like a future in which I was changed to be happier. If an AGI changed me to be happier, I'd get rid of the AGI.
What I like is the kind of thing that can be represented by a formal theory. What I like might change with time, but what I like is mostly the same from one person to the next. It is just that everyone's preferences can be mapped to each other, and we are like we are because we have preferences over states of the world given these formal theories. (Whether you have one or not, this does not change the fact that each person is like they are.)
Given these axioms, I think we're stuck. Because an AGI is a powerful thing, it could easily alter itself to make you happy. But because an AGI is a mind, it would be able to figure out what an AGI can do. So the AGI would change itself to be happier itself. As you can see, we're stuck in a failure state. The same would happen if we let the AGI make me happy, or let it form a society with its AGIs, or whatever.
A strange thing about this situation is that it gives us a strong bias to endorse creating an AGI. If we refuse to imagine a scenario in which an AGI we have made does something we dislike, our picture of the world is going to remain incomplete. You would have to be a kind of superstitious or fearful person to rule out the possibility that your AGI could actually be good at AGI, or that some AGI could be better than you at being an AGI. If you're a good reasoner, you might have trouble imagining anything that could do something bad (or, as we have done here, anything that could make you unhappy). (Or, as some proponents of "singularitarian" AI risk believe, the very act of thinking about the possibility that an AGI could be bad is the exercise of that AGI, and comes closer to making an AGI that is that AGI.)
Are there ways out of this? I don't think so. The only way I can see out of this logical impasse is by adding more axioms. Here's my (counter-)proposal:
Even if it is theoretically possible for something to be really really good at something, it might not in fact be that good at it. Life is the natural example of this: it is possible to imagine things that are really really good at things, but our lives are not universally great, even though we have the opportunity to be really great. Rather, life is filled with so many possibilities that even if you chose one of them, it is possible to do better.
I think this axiom is a much better description of the way the world works than the axiom mentioned in the preceding bullet point. It's like the gulf between the mathematician's and the physicist's (or the philosopher's) description of the world -- a world in which things are always mapped to theories, or a world in which things are mapped to other things that may or may not be theories.
Now, some people (like Eliezer) might say something like "a world in which things are not mapped to theories is a world that's not very useful for us in the first place." But I think that's a flaw. You can't predict the future of a physical system by doing the math, you can't tell whether it's going to break or run hot or whatever, even though it is in principle possible for you to predict everything that will happen. That world doesn't do the things we need it to do. So you need to do something like the "axiom 2" above -- you need to predict things by making a model, but then you need to have another axiom to tell you that the model doesn't work, that it isn't sufficient to predict the state of the world. You need a world in which the model doesn't solve the model itself -- a world in which the world contains things that aren't theories. (Remember that these are the same things that we "real" people make: human stories about people doing things and making decisions.)
So anyway, with these axioms, I think the AI risk picture is really different. A powerful AGI is a powerful thing. It could do a lot of things. We might hope that our theory of mind is just like AGI theory of mind, but we have to have an axiom 3 that says "these two things are not the same." And even if that axiom were true, it wouldn't be probably true, because it's impossible for an AGI to be truly certain about the A
9 notes · View notes
zorkaya-moved · 7 months
Note
dreams are a wonderful, never-ending tapestry of interconnected fantasies - unique works of the imagination, all interwoven by discreet threads their owners are not even aware of. only the god of wisdom, accomplished dream walker, can easily see and follow those threads, her consciousness blanketing all dreams like a protective blanket. to say that she can see them all at once would be a bit of an overstatement, but to say that she is aware of them all at the same time would bring the attentive observer closer to the truth. which is why the god of wisdom can sense it - the unusual darkness that spreads through the tapestry, cold fingers reaching into her own awareness and sending shivers up her spine. buer decides to follow the trail; and sure enough, a nightmare is what seems to be causing this dreamer some disruption. but -- oh, what is this creeping feeling scratching at her surface of her mind? what a hostile, violent dream... nahida approaches, battles the nauseating, sickening feeling that grips at her throat...
and jolts awake with a gasp. she had ventured to walk around in the nightmare, but in all her five hundred years of dream-walking? she cannot recall every encountering one so vile, violent, and bone-chilling. and she cannot forget the face of the woman she knows the dream belongs to.
"are you okay, miss sokolova?" nahida asks, the next time she and the professor find themselves in each other's vicinity - concern written all over the archon's face... alongside a faint, but persistent glimmer in the depths of verdant eyes. curiosity. "i sense someone having very difficult dreams last night, so i couldn't help but investigate... i promise i did not pry too much, but... it seemed like a rough night."
@maquiscursed
Tumblr media
Dreams are creations of one's mind, a combination of memories and experiences and emotions brought out by past events. However, what is a nightmare for one is a reality for another. The mind and dreams are interconnected to the secrets that must not be exposed, a lucid dreamer may be able to control said awareness and such creation but not everyone can do it. The mind is a tricky part, a human can reach enlightenment through brain's ability to piece thoughts and puzzle pieces together to create a full picture. However, sometimes, piecing together the whole picture creates gates of abyss that cannot be easily trespassed, the guardians might be soulless monsters and mirages from the past - creations of ice, of thorns, of bones, of death.
The dreamland of the Amurta scholar, decadent in its nature, would remain a viciously hostile environment as the creator of this dreamscape is none other than one who desires to gain knowledge for control. And anyone who dares to step into it will be deemed a threat, a liability, a weakness, a taint, a speck of dirt that must be erased and eliminated immediately. Violent, vicious, cold, and controlling. It seems that Dendro Archon's presence only intensified the chilling winds and howls of the dream, making it appear as even more hostile: leave, leave, leave.
Leave, leave this body of mine! I enjoy nothing anymore but my wretched dreams.
Zarina didn't sleep well that night, waking up with a headache that caused her to groan in pain and skip her intake of medicine for the sake of recovery. Her mind attributed it to overworking conditions and her late-night stays to finalize documents to get certain scholars off her back alongside closing several deals on the black market. Each and every secret that hides behind the appearance of the sun, an everloving and everlasting in her humor, warmth, and help to those who struggle to be like her. A beloved of many, a celebrator of more, a light of countless, a savior of thousands.
The one who bears the last name of the bird's of prey remains ignorant to the reason of her tough night. It was another similar dream like alway, a reminder of her past and a deep dive into her subconsciousness that exposes the monochrome world, the monotone viewpoints, the seekers of indulgence and the corruptor of the living. However, it all becomes crashing down when the Dendro Archon approaches her, worried and concerned yet there is another glimmer in her eyes that doesn't get to turn on the lightbulb inside the researcher's mind until she hears the words spoken.
Immediately, her mind screams from offense and tuning in on the Lord Kusanali as an enemy, as someone who dared to influence her mind or attempt to enter it without any consent or possibly even attempting to take information from her mind. Or is it possible? Her mind travels back to the Akasha Terminal, finding it as disturbing and invasive as the words just spoken now by Nahida. For a moment, her eyes become cold, sharp, but also dull as if she sees nothing but a target (a prey) to kill and eradicate to ensure her personal salvation and her personal survival.
You are my enemy, aren't you? You dare to invade my privacy and wish to control me?
No, this is Nahida, Lesser Lord Kusanali and the Dendro Archon. Her eyes do not show malice and she's proven herself to be kinder than what mind speaks inside. Control, control, control. But it's essential to give boundaries, such as now. And yet, it continues to bother her, the words spoken by Kusanali are: I promise I did not pry too much. 'Too much', she says. How much did she pry? What does 'too much' mean to her? Is it enough to give reasons to continue prying or is it something that'll cause her to need to double check everything in her inventory, hiding it all away all over again. Paranoia doesn't help but it doesn't register on her face, keeping a sudden cold expression on her face for a moment before it melts into a seemingly apologetic look.
Play your role, dear actor, this is your life-long theater.
Tumblr media
"My apologies, Lesser Lord Kusanali," she says, using her own moment of tension as a way to set up another stage. Her words sound sincere yet her mind is insulted and raging: do not touch my mind, do not touch me, do not dare to use your godly powers on me, I will not be controlled. Sadly, it matters little that Nahida is not one to do so. She is too self-centered in this moment, a mind of a survivalist taking over for that millisecond out of need. Connection to one's mind, the Akasha Terminal, the Dendro Archon... "I did indeed have a painful nightmare," she lies, it wasn't a nightmare: a memory, a true look of the world beyond these walls. Indulgence, sin, murder, manipulation, and so much more remains restless behind closed doors where shadows reign under moon's watchful gaze. "But I do not wish to discuss it in detail. Pardon my attitude, but it's invasive to– to touch my dreams like that without my approval. It happens around time of the year. You have nothing to worry about it. It will not cause a decline in my work today, that I can promise you."
Do not dare attempt to invade my dreams, Archon, you are not welcome there. My mind is mine and not your playground. Even if your heart is true, I trust no one and will wither alone if such must happen.
2 notes · View notes
nihilnothings · 11 months
Text
How “Thank you For the Venom” Reminds me of Akane and Aqua 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Source: https://twitter.com/holy_one_night
What I love more than angsty songs and angsty couples are relating its lyrics to the dynamics of said couples. When I was listening to MCR, I somehow was thinking of Akane and Aqua along the way, causing me to visualise a music video that matches the lyrics with the best of my abilities in accordance to my interpretation. Without further ado here’s the connection of the song to the dynamic between the two: 
Sister, I'm not much a poet, but a criminal
And you never had a chance
Love it or leave it, you can't understand a pretty face
But you do, so carry on, and on, and on
Interpretation: 
When these lyrics came up the first thing that came to mind was Aqua coming clean to Akane on his true nature on how he views himself as “evil” using his entertainment profession as a means of revenge. He expects that no one would understand him and he initially couldn’t care less but as we all know in the story she’s the first one who did.
I wouldn't front the scene if you paid me
I'm just the way that the doctor made me
On, and on, and on, and on
Love is the red, the rose on your coffin door
What's life like bleeding on the floor, the floor, the floor?
Interpretation: 
What first came to mind while listening to this section was the fact that he can never enjoy acting as it always pained him as he first sees “acting” as a tool for revenge. He can’t help being like this as he’s forged by his past life known as Gorou to enact a vengeance that’s been haunting him for long fueled by the guilt of him failing to save those that mattered to him. 
The 3rd and 4th line can make you think of Ai in her final moments, bleeding and dying on the floor before leaving the world saying that she loves her children
You'll never make me leave, I wear this on my sleeve
Give me a reason to believe
Interpretation: 
This can be seen as a conversation between him and Akane. The first line refers to Akane’s declaration of shouldering his burdens together and following through with it. Aqua, not used to being understood, doubts her. 
So give me all your poison, and give me all your pills
And give me all your hopeless hearts and make me ill
You're running after something that you'll never kill
If this is what you want, then fire at will
Interpretation: 
In response she restates her resolve in helping him, his burdens and shoulder the evil and guilt that tortures him. She sees that despite his hard and cold exterior, there’s a part of him that’s still soft on the idea of being a true avenger but resigns herself that if this is what he wants then better prepare himself 
 (I’mma be real though this interpretation can mean differently depending on who you’re talking to due to how the lyrics are presented, I just find that the first two lines can have a positive twist to it despite how it can come off as negative.) 
Preach all you want, but who's gonna save me?
I keep a gun on the book you gave me
Hallelujah, lock and load
Interpretation: 
Aqua being his paranoid self still doubts on whether or not anyone could truly save him. He takes various contingency measures by keeping hidden equipment for situations that might unexpectedly threaten him.  
Black is the kiss, the touch of a serpent son
It ain't the mark or the scar that makes you one, and one, and one, and one
Interpretation:
I’mma be real this one is a bit hard to interpret though I suppose this could mean that his “love” would only corrupt and taint those he touches, ruining their futures and dreams, referencing how his guilt complex prevents him from feeling any sort of happiness.
You'll never make me leave, I wear this on my sleeve
You wanna follow something, give me a better cause to lead
Just give me what I need, give me a reason to believe
Interpretation: 
And again Akane declares that he will never stop him from stopping her and she swears by it. Aqua in response doubles down then asks for an alternative to this gnawing vengeance, desperately asking for what he needs and a reason for him not to self-destruct. 
So give me all your poison, and give me all your pills
And give me all your hopeless hearts and make me ill
You're running after something that you'll never kill
If this is what you want, then fire at will
So give me all your poison, and give me all your pills
 (Fire at will)
And give me all your hopeless hearts and make me ill
 (Fire at will)
You're running after something that you'll never kill
 (Fire at will)
If this is what you want, then fire at will
 (Fire at will)
Interpretation: 
Once again Akane is offering to shoulder it with him together and if he’s off for this path then better prepare himself for it. 
And that’s the end of my attempts in trying to connect MCR song lyrics to Aqua and Akane. This isn’t really objective as many people can interpret things differently, this was just what I thought and felt when hearing the song. Due to the personal touch it had, it eventually became a favorite of mine that I kept listening to on repeat, lol.
My Chemical Romance - Thank you for the Venom
youtube
4 notes · View notes