#unbeneficially

[ryllen]

I absolutely won't be any help, because i am the baby.

But if you want to take my hand, this is me.

( 29cCj3hr )

[melodic-haze]

Who knows what the logistics of it would be but like. Reader who's kinda sorta Akivili's reincarnation of sorts and is just kinda clueless ab it but everyone else can kinda feel it

Imagine you, who has never felt satisfied with just staying in one place and one day the Express just pulls up and you feel especially drawn to it, though you don't know why. You try to rationalise it by saying that it's bc it's your biggest chance in seeing the galaxy!! And that's the most reasonable conclusion, surely!!!!!

But for some reason that doesn't quite feel right.

You stumble upon the Nameless and you greet them with a smile, and they can't help but stop in their tracks for a brief moment. Especially Himeko, whose eyes widen the slightest bit at the weirdly familiar energy you give off, and an interest in you grows within her—it's of a curious nature at first, though she finds herself wanting to be around you despite having only met recently. Even curiouser, when Pom-Pom sees you, stops with a weirdly glossy sheen to his eyes, and tells her that you "feel" like the Express itself.

Before you even ask if you could join them in their journey, it's THEM that asks you first. And really, why would you say no when that's all you've ever wanted?

You go with them in their travels, and for some reason you feel as if this is familiar to you. Why? Welt looks at you with a raised brow, though he doesn't say a word.. but he does ask if you'd be interested in tackling navigation with Pom-Pom. You agree, and it's the most natural thing you've ever done, as if attuned to the train itself.

You go from world to world, solve predicament after predicament with Stelle and the others, and you meet new people along the way and they can't help but be drawn to you. Is it bc of how easy it is to get along with you? Or is it how versatile you can be in every interaction and situation?

The stellaron in Belobog, for some reason, had whispered to be EXTRA careful of you to Cocolia due to an unknown fear of the things you can do, and her obsession to "protect" the world in her own way splits into an morbid curiosity of you. The Nameless, she gets, but why you specifically? And when she falls, it is then when she realises that ah, she is dealing with something far out of her reach.

Ruan Mei, the woman with an obsession to reach the power of a god—an Aeon—for her own conclusions, sees you for the first time and feels some sort of envy for you but neither of you know why.....so she runs tests, ones that she doesn't speak of to you for a mix of her own ensured safety, the lack of influence in results and HER lack of skill in communication.

You may go with it if you want, but when you tell her to stop she's.. strangely compelled to do so. Why is that? She investigates it herself personally by forming a connection with you through simply hanging out (and she even joins you in your expeditions at times), but that investigation melts away as she finds herself more interested in you rather than what you could be. Or does it? Who can tell with her.

And as you continue on with your journey on the Astral Express, you've drawn the attention of the infamous Stellaron Hunters. Kafka, especially, seems particularly interested in you. After all, what role do you have in the script and why, oh why, is Elio so unusually evasive when it comes to you? She makes it known—both your strange presence and her interest—and she keeps popping up left and right to speak to you without the pretense of combat in the forefront of her mind. As utterly useless and possibly unbeneficial to the script as it is, she finds herself wanting to witness your travels, wants to bask in that joy that only you could ever experience as you blaze a trail.

And through all of these encounters, you can't help but think of one thing:

Have you done this before?

[aspd-culture]

Sorry ig in advance since you get questions a lot but got curious about a few things

1. Is it normal for pwASPD to view unbeneficial relationships as chores? I know I, a likely prosocial, when I don't see the benefit in a relationship, I have to view it as being a chore to continue it.

2. If a connection is established between harming others and being harmed, will a pwASPD, for lack of a better term, be able to mimic empathy or remorse?

3. Do you know if pwASPD and another comorbid disorder, if the other disorder causes already low or fragile self esteem (like another cluster B), can seem like they don't have ASPD?

These are mostly for project research but also out of curiosity because I can

Nothing to be sorry for!!/gen

1.) Oh yes. So very, very much yes. And honestly, it's even worse than a chore - more like if a dead-end job decided to stop paying you but you'd go to jail if you quit. If you've ever seen a kid stuck dress shopping with their mother on TV, that's the way I would like to act through every single interaction with an equal part useless and annoying but unavoidable prosocial irl. Every single non-Exception prosocial is that coworker you hate who won't leave you alone./hj Joking aside, not all prosocials are actually that annoying actually. So it kind of depends; sometimes it's fine at least for me.

2.) Yeah, I'd say so. This goes differently for all of us, but for the most part "connection formed" would probably go in the direction of an Exception, and that's where some symptoms of ASPD are lessened for those of us that have them. That includes often having some degree of effective empathy and/or a desire to work on cognitive empathy with them in particular (I use them as practice to make the necessary use of cognitive empathy less annoying with non-Exceptions). Ditto with remorse for some pwASPD, though for me in particular that depends on the Exception in question. Some still do not bring out remorse in me for whatever reason. This is a good place to note that actually, since I don't think I've mentioned this elsewhere. Exceptions do not all have to be the same even for the same pwASPD. Two friends may have different symptoms they alleviate vs don't affect vs worsen, and of course platonic vs sexual vs romantic Exceptions often vary in that as well. For me and a few other pwASPD I've met, this may also occur with some groups of people who aren't Exceptions but cause an Exception-esque response. For me, kids get that as most do other people struggling with mental health disorders beyond just depression and anxiety (nothing easy about those two it's just in our current world most people have those). If I hurt a kid's feelings, 25/10 times I am going to cry with them or force myself not to. And that will vary for each pwASPD based on how much social neurological development was completed before it was fundamentally changed and started developing antisocially too. Some of us have more empathy than others, or more remorse than others (and vice versa) in general, so that'll impact those situations too.

3.) So this depends on what you define as "seem like they don't have ASPD", though it won't be self-esteem that affects that. Generally I'd point that more in the direction of NPD. But yeah, looking at the symptoms of ASPD, there are a few specific disorders that cause someone who very much has ASPD to not be diagnosed and/or believed both professionally and personally. In personal relationships, it's honestly just not being a serial k*ller that will get most to think you don't have it. Professionally, you're looking at disorders that cause social problems (such as autism, SAD - social anxiety, and GAD - generalized anxiety), impulse control (ADHD mostly), emotional instability (bipolar disorder, IED - intermittent explosive, ODD - oppositional defiance, and yeah your other cluster b PDs). There are others that make a whole lot less sense imo to get in the way of an ASPD diagnosis too. Schizophrenia comes to mind, with some professionals thinking that it's just... so many episodes of psychosis that it starts to look like ASPD which, don't even get me started on how much of a medical failure it is that I have heard of that specific thing happening. But mostly, it's going to be the ones I listed previously. None of these are mutually exclusive with ASPD, but they have symptoms that overlap with or mimic ASPD's, and so you'll have genuinely good professionals who are trying to avoid over/misdiagnosis where it applies to a *very* stigmatized disorder, and you'll have lazy ones that don't care to try and pick out which it is if not both. That will all just depend on the pwASPD's presentation of symptoms. I had more than one professional refuse to believe I had ASPD, and my (very lovely and dilligent/gen) psychiatrist was also leaning to just diagnose autism until I said some line about the reason I try for social interaction not being because I want to but because everyone has to to be able to get what they need in life. Once she realized I see it as an irritating requirement to associate with other people - even ones I kind of like - she quickly turned on that and diagnosed both. That's why it's important to speak openly and with as much of the mask removed as possible without getting yourself in trouble. They will try and avoid labelling you with something like this unless they are 1000% sure because of its connotations and the social and professional implications of having ASPD. It is very possible to pick out which is which or if it's more than one with overlap in regards to any set of comorbidities even outside of ASPD, but it takes a lot of work for that to be done properly especially if you're still masking in front of them.

I have no issue with anyone asking just out of curiosity by the way. Seriously like I guess I see why some people feel weird about it, but genuine interest is the reason why disorders get looked into, researched, and potentially normalized and accepted. There is nothing wrong with being interested in any topic as long as you're respectful in your interactions with sensitive subjects, and this ask was completely respectful, so I'm happy to answer it./gen

Plain text below the cut:

Nothing to be sorry for!!/gen

1.) Oh yes. So very, very much yes. And honestly, it's even worse than a chore - more like if a dead-end job decided to stop paying you but you'd go to jail if you quit. If you've ever seen a kid stuck dress shopping with their mother on TV, that's the way I would like to act through every single interaction with an equal part useless and annoying but unavoidable prosocial irl. Every single non-Exception prosocial is that coworker you hate who won't leave you alone./hj Joking aside, not all prosocials are actually that annoying actually. So it kind of depends; sometimes it's fine at least for me.

2.) Yeah, I'd say so. This goes differently for all of us, but for the most part "connection formed" would probably go in the direction of an Exception, and that's where some symptoms of ASPD are lessened for those of us that have them. That includes often having some degree of effective empathy and/or a desire to work on cognitive empathy with them in particular (I use them as practice to make the necessary use of cognitive empathy less annoying with non-Exceptions). Ditto with remorse for some pwASPD, though for me in particular that depends on the Exception in question. Some still do not bring out remorse in me for whatever reason. This is a good place to note that actually, since I don't think I've mentioned this elsewhere. Exceptions do not all have to be the same even for the same pwASPD. Two friends may have different symptoms they alleviate vs don't affect vs worsen, and of course platonic vs sexual vs romantic Exceptions often vary in that as well. For me and a few other pwASPD I've met, this may also occur with some groups of people who aren't Exceptions but cause an Exception-esque response. For me, kids get that as most do other people struggling with mental health disorders beyond just depression and anxiety (nothing easy about those two it's just in our current world most people have those). If I hurt a kid's feelings, 25/10 times I am going to cry with them or force myself not to. And that will vary for each pwASPD based on how much social neurological development was completed before it was fundamentally changed and started developing antisocially too. Some of us have more empathy than others, or more remorse than others (and vice versa) in general, so that'll impact those situations too.

3.) So this depends on what you define as "seem like they don't have ASPD", though it won't be self-esteem that affects that. Generally I'd point that more in the direction of NPD. But yeah, looking at the symptoms of ASPD, there are a few specific disorders that cause someone who very much has ASPD to not be diagnosed and/or believed both professionally and personally. In personal relationships, it's honestly just not being a serial k*ller that will get most to think you don't have it. Professionally, you're looking at disorders that cause social problems (such as autism, SAD - social anxiety, and GAD - generalized anxiety), impulse control (ADHD mostly), emotional instability (bipolar disorder, IED - intermittent explosive, ODD - oppositional defiance, and yeah your other cluster b PDs).

There are others that make a whole lot less sense imo to get in the way of an ASPD diagnosis too. Schizophrenia comes to mind, with some professionals thinking that it's just... so many episodes of psychosis that it starts to look like ASPD which, don't even get me started on how much of a medical failure it is that I have heard of that specific thing happening. But mostly, it's going to be the ones I listed previously. None of these are mutually exclusive with ASPD, but they have symptoms that overlap with or mimic ASPD's, and so you'll have genuinely good professionals who are trying to avoid over/misdiagnosis where it applies to a very stigmatized disorder, and you'll have lazy ones that don't care to try and pick out which it is if not both. That will all just depend on the pwASPD's presentation of symptoms. I had more than one professional refuse to believe I had ASPD, and my (very lovely and dilligent/gen) psychiatrist was also leaning to just diagnose autism until I said some line about the reason I try for social interaction not being because I want to but because everyone has to to be able to get what they need in life. Once she realized I see it as an irritating requirement to associate with other people - even ones I kind of like - she quickly turned on that and diagnosed both. That's why it's important to speak openly and with as much of the mask removed as possible without getting yourself in trouble. They will try and avoid labelling you with something like this unless they are 1000% sure because of its connotations and the social and professional implications of having ASPD. It is very possible to pick out which is which or if it's more than one with overlap in regards to any set of comorbidities even outside of ASPD, but it takes a lot of work for that to be done properly especially if you're still masking in front of them.

I have no issue with anyone asking just out of curiosity by the way. Seriously like I guess I see why some people feel weird about it, but genuine interest is the reason why disorders get looked into, researched, and potentially normalized and accepted. There is nothing wrong with being interested in any topic as long as you're respectful in your interactions with sensitive subjects, and this ask was completely respectful, so I'm happy to answer it./gen

[keysorsomething]

Unprofessional

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 6 | 7 Hey! Here's part five! Sorry it took so long, I was busy and got sidetracked with another project.

Cross-posted on Ao3

You felt like you were going to puke, listening to the pen scrape on the paper as König wrote you up. You and Nikto had been interviewed, and though you insisted nothing “bad” had happened, you were still being written up. Like you were too rowdy on the school bus.

You could swear you feel the stinging of tears meeting your eyes, but that’s stupid. You’re a soldier. You kill people. You don’t cry because of a piece of paper. Still, your hands shake and your eyes sting and you just want to reach out to Nikto, but he isn’t there.

You were both interviewed separately, both written up separately, and you’d likely be going on missions separately from now on. And you hated it. You just hoped he did too. He had to - with the way that he laid on your chest and hummed as you slept in his bed. In the way that he looked at you, the way that he leaned into your touch. He had to hate it, just as much as you. If not more.

“You will not interact with him in such ways again,” König looks up at you, putting the paper into the copy machine by his desk. It beeps slowly as it scans the writing, and each beep hits your ears like a chisel to your skull. It pounds against your head, almost being physically painful.

Beep, beep, beep!

And then that awful crunching noise of the paper printing. It feels like scraping metal against your mind, just like the metal of knives scrapping against the skin on the battlefield.

…Maybe you shouldn’t think about that while looking at your boss.

He huffs, pulling out the freshly printed copy of the paper and holding it out to you, “You are… a good asset,” He starts, eyes flitting under his mask. “Do not make me fire you. It would be… unbeneficial. Harmful, even. To the team.”

You look miserably at the paper in his hands, biting the inside of your cheek. You nod, taking the paper from him.

“Thank you, sir,” You mumble, looking down at the stark white paper that’s now in your hands. His writing is thick and bold in an eye-burning black ink against the almost luminescence of the paper. This is the weirdest shade of white you’ve ever seen, and it’s almost memorizing. It would be if you weren’t absolutely destroyed emotionally. You all but sniffle. “I’ll… see you tomorrow, sir,” You mumble, rushing out of the room before he can respond.

This is so stupid. It makes no sense for you to cry. It makes no sense for you to be so upset. It’s not like you’ve been in a deeply romantic relationship with him for years. You were fucking around for like, two weeks. There is no reason for a trained killer like you to be acting like a schoolchild whose dad told them he didn’t like their partner.

You rush through the halls, power walking to avoid anyone seeing you like this. That’s something you don’t need any more of. You mean, the last time someone saw you, you’re entire life was ruined.

Oh, God, you sound like an absolutely smitten teenager. That’s so embarrassing.

Your emotions are fluctuating so much right now. Sadness, embarrassment, anger, embarrassment. Now you were curious. Who told? Did they let it slip on accident or was it malicious? Did he just figure it out on his own? Maybe he was trying to talk to Nikto about something else and you were just there. Wrong place wrong time, y’know?

You get to your room. Your own room, not Nikto’s, not that stupid little fantasy cabin you could have with him. Your room. Your empty, cold room with no one to cuddle up to.

You should retire. Out of spite. You should draft a statement and march right back up there and slam it down on that Austrian fuck’s desk. Or maybe not retire, but quit and find an opposing company so maybe one day you could-

Okay, too far. You don’t have to get violent. Oh, fuck, violent.

Nikto was probably off his rocker.

You have to stop him. But you can’t see him, that wouldn’t be a good look, would it? You huff, looking around. Who the hell can you trust? Both not to talk, but also with Nikto. He was very particular about who he liked. You rack your brain for a moment, going over everyone you could.

And that is how you end up outside of the door of the one man you can trust in this situation. The ever-silent, ever-familiar to Nikto….

Velikan.

You start scrambling for an explanation, cringing at how badly you were stammering for the words. He crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame impatiently. Your words take a moment for you to find, but you find them.

“I’m in trouble for fraternizing with Nikto and you’re the only one who I know that I can trust who Nikto’s familiar with - I mean, actually he worked with Mace, right? And Mace is a nice guy, I’m sure Nikto and he get along fine - but I just,” Your hands find your face. “Can you make sure Nikto’s okay? I just… don’t want him to try and beat the fuck out of König, that’d be the worst thing-”

Velikan’s hand meets your shoulder, gently shaking you to make sure you look up at his covered eyes. He lets out a low, growling sound, reassuring you. You’re really not sure why exactly you went to him now that you’re thinking about it. You have no clue what’s wrong with him, but you’ve never heard him speak. He just…. makes weird growling laughs. You aren’t sure if that’s all he can do, or if it’s just some dumb prank he’s playing on everyone else.

It doesn’t matter, you’re already grabbing for him to pull him in for a hug. He nods, making some more low grunting sounds. Oh, maybe it’s the mask?

“I’m sorry,” You mumble into the stiff material of his suit. He shakes his head.

“No, no,” The grunts sound like words now, “It’s okay,” he shushes you. He pats your shoulder, before pushing you off him. He uses one hand to hold your shoulder and the other to pull his goggles up.

His face is smudged with eye-black, but the signal is there. He’s trying to get you to see his sincerity. You nod, taking a deep breath. You are not going to cry. You aren’t crying.

He lets out a new grunt, patting his chest, the grunt sounds something like “Nikto.” You look into his eyes, breathing shuttering.

“You’ll look after Nikto?” You ask, and he nods. Then, he shakes his head, patting your shoulder. “And you won’t let him fight the colonel?” You ask. He nods one more. You back away, but before you can leave, he stops you.

He thwaps you on the shoulder, “You find support, too,” He grumbles out. Yup, it’s the mask making it hard to understand him. You nod again, and he gives you a thumbs up.

He then steps out of his room, once more patting your shoulder as he walks off. Possible to find Nikto.

Oh, you hope it’s to find Nikto.

You hope Nikto is going to be okay.

You hope you’re going to be okay.

[disruptivevoib]

hi! ive listened to some of chonny jash's songs but did not realize that there was really a story? Or i vaguely knew but didn't have the time/energy to get into it and with the release of the bidding animation ive realized theres like a bajillion awesome animations and art and i want to get into cccc but have no clue how. also why does soul have a trident.

OH man!

The story of CCCC has an overall seeming narrative, but much of it's smaller points are interpretive due to Jash himself leaving it up to fans of the album. But! Overall it kind of goes like:

-Jash or, what most people call Whole, splits as due to mental dissonance and waning mental health. (Time Machine Reprise).

- Whole fades into Soul (End of TMR into Dream) and from there its Mucka Blucka as a sort of introductory song. The recap for a story you have or haven't heard yet.

- (The entire album is a time loop! Which is a big metaphor for the cycles of mental health and illness people go through.)

- From there its the section called "Cacophony" which starts off with Soul, but eventually it turns to Heart and Mind + their fighting and inability to see or listen to one another or their points of view. Of course, as Logic and Emotion, they both have valid ideas or opinions, but believe themselves so contradictory that the other must be evil or out to get them.

- Heart attempts to shoot Mind, as referred to in Ruler of Everything. Literal or Metaphorical as you take this, it is seemingly symbolic for an attempt at one's own life if not self sabotage. If not then both.

- The rest up until Soul Eclectic is sort of just the Mind and Heart fighting and their own personal views each on the situation.

- Soul in The Soul Eclectic reaches his breaking point. Threatening to kill them all (A more direct attempt at suicide)

- Mind and Heart in the subsequent songs decide to get their shit together.

- (Two Wuv) Soul realizes that not only can they be happier now but that trying to force themselves to conform to society's ideas of mental health or belief or love is just plainly unbeneficial. Sort of a song about unapologetically being yourself.

- Welcome To Tally Hall is a tribute to Tally Hall themselves more than anything.

- This transfers into Concord soon after! Concord is Whole or Jash by himself, though many of the songs seem to carry themes from Cacophony in them. Self sabotage, disagreement, importance placed on the wrong thing, the idea that no one person is better off than another. It concludes with Taken for a Ride. Which is also sort of CJ's epic "im burnt out as hell" song towards the end. But exaggerated to my knowledge for lyrical shenanigans.

That is CCCC as neutrally told as best as possible. I highly recommend forming your own ideas on it, but I'd be happy to also discuss more in depth my opinion on each song should you or anyone else express interest!

Getting into the Trident: The fandom took the metaphor of "Tridential Sovreignty" and "This trident he formed (found? Lyrics.) is both weapon and motive" and said "Soul's got a trident" to which Jash responded with "Absolutely yes he does now" Same with the crown most people put Mind in, and that is referenced in the "Trident, Crown and Blindfold" line.

Soul really did get noose imagery, a trident and a mask. All Heart n Mind got were a blindfold and crown. Lmao

Though Heart is also commonly drawn with wings. Which is semi-canonical according to album covers. I choose to ignore them because I don't particularly have an attachment to the idea!

Getting into the fandom itself, I can recommend looking around for the Chonny Jash Fan Server (CJFS) Discord link. But it can be extremely intimidating and even I just stick to discussion and one other thread channel. (Sides from my au channels which pop up every once a month or so).

Important note is that only Tally Hall covers have to do with HMS. Any of Jash's other music (of which I highly recommend, always) is unrelated. There is also a fan QnA somewhere that was done like a year ago now which has some neat answers in it.

I, again, am happy to go into my interpretations of HMS and the music as a whole but skdmsm saved you the reading hopefully should that be undesired!

[archivalofsins]

The thing I love about Milgram is you can easily start to see how responsibility is viewed across cultures through how the prisoners are discussed. This is something brought up through the text through the pairing of Kazui and Amane along with the gap between their ages.

Something the series itself goes out of its way to point out from the beginning.

Q.06 What would you say is the difference between adults and children?

Kazui: Responsibility. Adults can’t just do whatever they want.

Amane: I don’t think there’s a strict boundary. There are adults who act like children just as there are children who are mature like adults.

Through putting their answers to this question together, we can discern a focal point of the story overall. Before it's brought to the forefront by Jackalope.

Responsibility. What it is, what taking it looks like, and who should have to take it.

These answer together to me read as.

Adults have to take responsibility for themselves. Ergo adults do not have the same freedoms or room for error/growth as they did when they were children. However, there is really no difference between people within these age groups as a child can be treated as an adult (adultification) and an adult can be treated like a child (infantilization). Children can behave in ways typically considered adult, while adults can exhibit behavior viewed as childish.

We see Amane's answer reflected in the ways,

Mu: Uses childish language, shifts blame/refuses to take accountability for herself, throws tantrums or pouting fits, spends a good chunk of her first voice drama crying and states she wants her parents.

Futa: Lashes out first to try to dissuade others and give himself a feeling of control over the situation, complain in nauseum, picky eater but critiques others eating habits.

Shidou: Picky eater but discusses the eating habits of others, poor communicator, uncompromising likely to keep trying the same method without changing it- This ties into why he asked to be guilty and his desire to have someone else put an end to him. Unlikely to change his pattern of behavior even if it's shown to be unbeneficial to himself and those around him. As shown through his crime. Stubbornly asserts he knows best anyway even when faced with someone who has seniority.

Such as Kazui. Shown on Amane's birthday after the attacks where he doubles down stating he knows he has other priorities. Kazui even verbalizes that Shidou is pouting when he tells him not to look at him like that.

22/06/27 (Amane’s Birthday)

Kazui: What’s up, Shidou-kun? You’re looking pretty down. I guess you must be tired, I’ve been relying on you a lot lately.

Shidou: Yeah, I just remembered…… today is Amane’s birthday. I’m just getting a bit sentimental.

Kazui: Hmm, it’s unfortunate, but at the moment we can’t worry about that. ……you understand, right? There’s something that you need to do right now. And if you tried talking to her your words definitely won’t reach her. Don’t look at me like that. We’ll just wait until the situation changes. Let’s do our best.

Shidou: Yeah. I’ll do what I can. I can’t have a child making a face like that. Even though we’re “murderers”…… we’re also the adults here.

In stark contrast to Yuno's response to Mu's birthday where Yuno properly prioritizes the dire state the prison is in over celebrating and asks Mu to do the same.

22/07/05 (Mu’s Birthday)

Mu: Hey~~~ Isn’t everyone a bit gloomy lately? I get that this situation isn’t ideal, but you’re really bringing down the mood for my birthday.

Yuno: Haha, surely even you can tell now’s not really the time for something like that right. Nobody’s really in the mood, or rather nobody has time time to deal with something like that.

Mu: Boo, how boring. You seem to be free, you can celebrate for me. Go on, celebrate.

Yuno: Wow, what a pain. I’m reading the atmosphere properly and keeping quiet. Well, you just go and have fun with Haruka. In the corner somewhere so you’re out of everyone’s way.

Yet Shidou despite Kazui's explanation still emphasizes how they as adults shouldn't be letting this situation cause a child to make such an expression, or be unhappy.

Mikoto: Using childish language, whines/throws tantrums when met with opposition or when not given the treatment he believes he deserves, shifts blame/accountability onto other parties, inclined to woe is me behavior even when there are others going through the exact same situation as him.

I won’t forgive you if this is happening to me even though I’m right./ Come to know me as an honest man, eat your words, gulp them down.

Oh also is noted in the text to tantrum by lashing out violently and breaking things when situations don't go his way.

Mikoto : AAAHHHHHHHHHH!! DESTROY EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING! EVERYTHING!!

Mikoto: [scream] You’re all fucking annoying! I’ll beat you all to death, pieces of shit!!!

It's through all these ways that the Milgram cast supports Amane's initial answer of there being children who act like adults and adults who act like children.

Such is the case with Yuno in comparison to her senior Shidou when it came to prioritizing the severity of the situation they were in over a birthday.

This mindset of Shidou's ends up greatly impacting how he engages with Amane.

At a glance it can appear that he is only projecting how he treated his own family and the children within it onto Amane. Yet it may not only be that. Shidou may in fact be projecting how he wished to be treated as a child on Amane as he may have done with his own children. As this is something that people can end up doing to their kids once having them. Trying to vicariously live out the childhood they didn't have through their kids.

Simply put, he may just really like pancakes, and none of his kids ever really did. I mean, they aren't making pancakes when the wife's there. I'm just saying.

In a lot of ways Shidou could be considered an adult version of Amane.

As he projects on others how he would want to be treated in contrast to how he did get treated. Something that Amane does a great deal as well.

This is something we see her do in her first voice drama when it comes to her reaction to Es' tardiness. Along with the way she attempts dictate her religious beliefs now that she is free of her parents input.

"Okay! I'm kind, so I shall forgive you. That's nice, isn't it? If my parents were in my place, you would have been lectured for another hour."

Amane's stated desires during trial two contrast with the implication of how she was taught in Magic and Purge March. As she was shown very little lenience or acceptance yet says she wants to alleviate the pain and confusion the guilty prisoners were facing.

Her definition of love also conflicts with how her upbringing was portrayed in both of her music videos,

Q.09 What is love to you?

Kazui: Being able to be as you are, and having that accepted.

Amane: All-encompassing, eternal affection.

Though her answer still aligns with the sort of love she states she wanted in Magic. A forgiving love where her apologies were accepted and she was given space to grow/become better. A love where her capacity to develop was recognized along with the fact that growth came through trial and error.

"Will you laugh with me and forgive me? I promise! I can only become a better girl!" - "Even I can say "I'm sorry". Even I have hope I swear! I'm going to be a good girl now! That's it!"

This also plays into Es' assertion that Amane actually did want to be treated like a child in her second trial interrogation.

This web of responsibility all spirals back on the audience and Es. A lot of fans of Milgram have blamed a lot of their actions on the series, the way it progressed, how others talked about it. The blame shifting transcending the work to become and endless bout of finger pointing with no end. Despite from the beginning Milgram through Jackalope blatantly stating,

"Yeah. Milgram leaves how it’s administered up to you. Whether you wanna make it heaven or hell, that’s your call."

Milgram has and always will be what the fans make of it, whether the audience enjoys the series, learns anything from it, or continues engaging with it is fully up to that audience member alone. Just as the ways we engage with it are up to our personal discretion as well.

In this game the audience has the power to vote based on whatever biases they may hold. Yet, with choice comes culpability.

"You can even make a decision on whether you like them or not… just be careful of the consequences, that's not my responsibility."

It's okay to like or dislike but when it's time to reap the consequences who will really be ready to eat what they've grown?

Well, it's not like it's my responsibility to answer that. That's something only time can tell.

[naokomayumi]

"The demoniac, who are lost to themselves and who have no intelligence, engage in unbeneficial, horrible works meant to destroy the world."

Bhagavad Gita 16:9

[valberryelixier]

Pantalone headcanons

Credit to Chieu.tatami on twitter 💜💜

You and Pantalone were close, close enough to be on talking terms and occassional tea. Maybe you were wrong but you could read through him and his facade, his indifferent attitude and lust for money was but a mask. One to protect himself from things he considers unbeneficial.

But thoughts are not always true afterall, maybe these thoughts were what you wished. When you worked alongst him you started gaining feelings towards him. Of course, you knew it was impossible between him and his job something like romance would never work.

"Ms y/n, Lord Pantalone requests your presence", your assistant said. It snapped you back to reality, what were you even thinking?

You knocked on his office door, money was no problem for you but you certainly were far from equal to him in terms of moras. His office proved so, the grand entrance, a wooden door carved by the finest artist in inazuma, plated with gold and the handle made of pure gold. Not to mention the interior which was luxurious but not overwhelming. It surely showed off his wealth but it wasn't tacky, more so elegant. The intricate carvings on the ceiling and the murals on the windows were just a background that made his wooden desk shine.

His desk was neat, papers stacked accordingly and not a single thing out of place. His smile plastered on his face eternal, he stood up and greeted you, "Well, hello y/n it has certainly been a long time, how was fontaine? You certainly kept me waiting, not replying to my letters" he chuckled.

Arrogant, you thought, but you loved that about him. You stared at him, unintionally but everything about him seemed so intentional from his perfume that smelled woody and the coats he wore made of the finest materials.

"Cat got your tounge?"

Have you been staring too long? You didnt even realize. You couldnt hold this anymore, you needed to do something desperately. Your feelings were overflowing and passion burnt out from your heart. Its no lie that you love him, it wasn't just a crush it was truly love.

"Its hard to be around you when i like you and i know you dont feel the same way", you said meekly. Maybe you shouldnt have, what if it ruined everything you had. Or what if he thought of you as a fool.

"I know darling, don't mistake me for a fool, i see the way you look at me every time" he smiled, but it was a genuine one not just the cunning smile he put on display for business. He was a proud man, he thought he would never say it back so thats all he said.

"You may leave now, if thats all"

What? Was this all a game, a joke to entertain him? He was the one who called you, was this the reason? All sorts of questions rushed to your brain and you wanted to run out, anywhere but near him.

You walked towards the door slowly, hiding how hurt you felt, the fact that he barely acknowledged you and told you to go as if it meant nothing. But something stopped you, maybe he regretted it. Pantalone held your hand in a bruising grip right as you were about to touch the door handle, he stepped closer to you. Enough to feel his warm breath.

"What? You didnt think id let you go so easily wouldnt you?"

He caged you around his arms and helf your waist, he hesitated but soon lust overcame him, his lips nearing towards your own catching it into a deep passionate kiss.

"Open up", he demanded. You slowly opened your mouth to let his tounge explore your mouth. His tounge reached every corner of your mouth while his hands rubbed your hips. The kiss ended with the both of you gasping for air.

He smirked at you, his eyes full of passion still. "Lets continue this elsewhere shal we"

[a-gay-cat]

Really sucks that capitalism continues to find new technologies unbeneficial to society that suck up increasingly absurd amounts of power. If current humans could build a Dyson sphere, tech bros would find a way to drain the sun with graphics cards.

[stilemawillow]

Unbeneficial [Levi | Reader | Modern AU!]

i - the benefits of you | ii - unbeneficial

Most people you knew would much rather never step in your shoes in terms of location. You lived in a big city and the school you attented was only reached by catching a single bus at exactly 7:15 every morning. Your home wasn't even in the suburbs, your neighbourhood was just that vacant. So every school day, you got up at 6 a.m. and left for the bus stop at 7 a.m. It was a tradition now. The same bus, the same seat, the same passengers, the same cigarette butts on the same side of the pavement. Boring but fascinating in a way, how the tedium of habits persisted. Some people's schedules were like clockwork and yours was one of them.

Then arrived the abnormality differing from the usual picture you'd gotten used to. He stood by the bus stop sign, stoic and taut. His habits were easily noticeable. Always holding his suitcase in his right hand, so he could easily lift the left one to check the time on his expensive watch. Never stuffing it in the pocket of his dress pants because they would crease, and fixing his plain tie every five or so minutes. Never observed his surroundings. The only thing his austere eyes were looking forward to seeing (with questionable zest, if any at all) was the bus that would drive him to work and you - to school.

It took you a week to figure out his strict routine and now you were just eyeing him with unhidden curiosity - something he seemed to notice but never openly acknowledge. That was until the second week, when he finally got annoyed with your persistent stare. A single glare from eyes such as his was enough to make your body turn at a hundred and eighty degrees as you nervously clenched in your clammy fist your bland uniform skirt.

By the third week he'd stopped glaring, maturely having concluded you'd keep spying on him - albeit less blatantly. And you did. Arriving at the bus stop had never been as exciting as it was when he was around, with his broad shoulders and variety of plain ties.

At times he would show up with a cup of tea in hand. You blinked at him like an overly curious child - which at the time you might've been - uncaring of what any other woman would've noticed and focusing on the funny details about his conduct and appearance. You didn't see the attractive features or the sculpured body under the suit - you saw the amusing sour expression that made his lips seem comically thin when he frowned at his watch and the interesting scar on his earlobe that, after a lot of pondering, was deemed a result of a piercing during a rebellious period that never healed properly.

On the topic of rebellious periods and piercings, you couldn't help but wonder how old he was. You stood five feet from him, nudging the cigarette butts around with the tip of your left shoe and intensely staring at the ground. He was obviously one of those pricks who worked at a famous company, so he didn't exactly need experience if he had connections. Which meant the possibility of him being twenty was as plausible as the one stating he was thirty. You'd never give him thirty, though. Looking closely, the only thing hinting at whatever age after twenty was the crease between his thin brows and the look in his eyes - knowing but dull, having experienced things a young adult was yet to encounter. So how old was he?

The tea and the stiffness said grandpa. The face said a teenager punk. The suit and watch said responsible, thirty-year-old adult. Then, having considered the many possibilities, you built his backstory in your mind and smiled incredulously at your own imagination. Not even a professional writer would manage to weave a resume so realistic.

His name was Bernard Lewis (because it had to suit his British pale complexion) and he was a twenty-one-year-old college student. He'd grown up in a big city a long way from here but had recently moved due to the internship his father had forced on him. As a compliant son, Bernard had gotten rid of his old earring from the time he'd been in a band in high school and taken his grandfather's favourite watch, moving into his new abode. Imagine his disappointment when he'd been refused a car and forced to take the bus every morning. His plain ties were presents from his mother and he got a new one every Christmas. Last but not least, his constant frown was caused by his seperation from his girlfriend, Crissie, just when his best friend Dylan had started giving her a suspicious number of rides all over the city too. Little additions were that he was trying to quit smoking and most suits he wore were actually his father's - cue his nitpicky behaviour in attempts to keep them neat.

Bernard's character was perfected by the end of the fourth week, which coincidentally turned out to be the week when your first interaction took place. On a very fateful Thursday, Bernard was holding his usual cup of tea and you were kicking around the cigarette butts when a middle-aged lady with a bit too much lipstick collided with the ebony-haired male's back, resulting in some scalding spillage and a very vindictive curse on his side. The deep timbre with the husky edge wasn't how you'd imagined his voice, but you had no time to ponder that because he was about to do a lot of damage to the rude lady if somebody didn't intervene.

Putting a fragile hand to his stained cuff, you saw his snarl turn in your direction with a feral glare that had the ability to cut. Your shoulders shrank a size but you handed him your handkerchief with a shy smile and a silent plea not to attack the lady, which he very reluctantly complied with. Slender fingers dripping with tea brushed against yours as he took the handkerchief and muttered a curt word of gratitude. You just stood there, smiling at his face from up close and relishing the sound of his voice. It suited his eyes, that timbre. He stuffed the handkerchief in his pocket, saying he'd return it the next day after he washed it. You nodded, about to ask his name (you were begging all the Gods above for it to not be Bernard because it no longer suited his voice) when the bus arrived and you had to get in.

Stopping yourself from annoying him further by sitting next to him, you occupied your usual seat and quietly bounced up and down in fervent wait for tomorrow. How easily stirred the teenage female heart was.

The anticipated Friday arrived and you set out to walk to the bus stop earlier, seeing as Bernard was always there before you, which would now give you more time to muster the courage to ask his name. He was waiting by the sign already, watching you hastily glide down your skirt and fix your hair as you smiled at him. He pulled the clean handkerchief from his pocket - folded and pristine, making a bashful pink tint your cheeks as you took it and questioned the state of his skin. He brushed your consideration off with a scoff, but you didn't give up, eyeing him with a curious look that you'd later learn had been way too penetrating to be ignored.

You were hardly conversing but you were attempting to make it work, longing to hear more of his voice and thus forgetting your initial goal of obtaining knowledge of his name. The bus arrived at exactly 7:15 and you got on, deciding to stand by the ebony-haired male with the expensive watch as he furrowed his brows at the vehicle's doors. You muttered a small 'bye' as he stepped forth when his stop arrived and he graced you with a cold glance and the most diminutive nod he could've given. You took it with a big smile and a kind of nervousness that left your skirt creased due to too much fidgety clenching. You were looking forward to the following Monday with excitement you'd never felt up until now.

And when it came, he wasn't there. He wasn't by the bus stop sign, holding his steaming cup of tea in his left hand and his suitcase in the right one. He wasn't making a funny expression that showed his cutely scrunched-up nose at the expensive watch on his wrist and he wasn't glaring at you as you childishly spied on him out of the corner of your eye, thinking yourself sly. You'd just decided today would be the day you learned his name and now he wasn't there, leaving you weirdly disappointed and pouty. You kicked the cigarette butts around until the bus came and you got on, taking your usual seat with no enthusiasm whatsoever.

A little pinch of hope had clung to the edge of your mind so you ran to the bus stop the next day, expecting him to be back. He wasn't.

A week passed like that. You decided it was futile to wait for him, so you just went on with your life. It wasn't like you liked him or anything. Not his deep voice or his cute nose. Or the far from scary scowl that had the ability to make you smile even when you were tired and moody, just because you admired his energy to frown that early into the morning. You hadn't grown attached to the slender fingers stiffly fixing his plain ties or the satisfied hum at the back of his throat when he drank from his tea. You had no interest in learning his name or age, or everything else he could tell you. No interest whatsoever in him. He was a random man who only glared at you and washed your handkerchief once. Nothing big, even for an inexperienced high school girl.

Almost two weeks after his disappearance, you were running to the bus stop after the first time you'd overslept. Your chances of reaching it in time were slim, but there. You just had to run as fast as the wind, which would result in your underwear totally showing from under the boring uniform skirt you wore. So risk somebody seeing your pink undies or risk being late for school? The choice wasn't exactly easy for a goodie-two-shoes like you, but you at least had the decency to admit your attendance mattered a bit less than your dignity. So you ran as fast as your skirt allowed, watching the bus take the lead a block away. Your eyes widened in horror as you sprinted but your breaths were ragged and your lungs felt like balloons about to pop. You tripped, trying to find the voice to call out to the driver, but all that came out was a pathetic croak.

The bus was taking off and so was your hope. Your pace slowed and your calves protested even when you walked, finding it hard to balance your breathing. You were leaning on the bus stop sign when a car pulled up in front of you and the door opened, vouchsafing your eyes a sight that made them widen in visible shock. The ebony-haired male invited you in with a sigh, explaining that he'd understand if you refused his offer to drive you to school but would very much appreciate a quick decision on your part since he had somewhere to be too. You got over your shock with a hasty nod and jumped in the front seat prior to closing the door and profusely thanking your stoic savior after telling him the address of your school.

The radio in the clearly expensive car was playing an old song you remembered from your childhood and your heart was now beating fast not only because of all the running you'd done. You were stupid for getting in his car - who knew what he would do? This was exactly what your mother had spent years teaching you not to do and yet here you were. Amazingly dumb of you, getting into a stranger's car. And why? Because you'd missed his cute nose and non-scary frown? Not a good enough reason for when you'd try explaining why you'd been assaulted on your way to school. Two sides of a coin were fighting inside you - a protective one and a defensive one.

You felt ashamed for thinking so badly of somebody who might've just wanted to help you but then again - how many high school girls had been kidnapped and killed this exact way? Because they'd been naive and their abductor was attractive? A lot, but this wasn't the case because the ebony-haired male wasn't a bad person, he was only more or less returning a favour. Why did he suddenly have a car now though? Why had he been on the bus for a whole month only to suddenly show up with an expensive car when you most needed transport?

You shook your head with an inward scowl, deciding to distract yourself by apologising for the inconvenience, to which your savior/possible abductor scoffed and noted it wasn't a big deal since his workplace was close to your school. Upon being asked of his profession, the pale man took a small card from his pocket and handed it to you without even glancing in your direction. You took it from his slender fingers, then observed them fix his black tie and grip the steering wheel. Your hues eyed the card. A strange name sat at the top, next to the name of a pretty famous bank that had a branch in the big office building that could be seen from your school's rooftop. A work phone number and an email address were lined under a strict greyscale pattern and above it - the words 'branch manager' in a somber font that made your lips purse.

Your eyes widened in realisation and you looked back and forth between the card and the stoic man who had handed it to you until he shot you an impatient glare.

"What?" Annoyed with the stare, certainly. You couldn't find the words to answer. Was it a shock that you'd seen his name already? In those boring magazines your father loved buying and reading just to pass the time while getting drunk? Was it a shock he was currently driving you to school when he was famous enough to be written into a whole-ass magazine? Or was it a shock than he wasn't a sixty-year-old grandpa with dyed hair and a silly pair of glasses like his name had first made you think? All three together maybe formed the perfect explanation you'd have a hard time articulating properly.

"I'm sorry for the discomfort I'm causing," you began bashfully. "Also thank you, again, for this." There was a beat of silence. Then, at last, you blurted out: "I'm (Y/N) (L/N), by the way. Since, um, I learned yours, I think it's only appropriate to give mine." It wasn't a dignified introduction, merely the most you could muster in such an awkward moment.

He didn't speak for the next five minutes and you only watched the card in your hold with silent admiration and wonder. Levi Ackerman. Sounded times better than Bernard Lewis. First correction to your imaginary story. Branch manager of a bank office instead of an intern. Second correction. Not twenty-one then. Third correction. Your lips pursed in thought. The expensive watch was probably bought with his own money, so fourth correction. You only crossed your fingers for him to have not been picking and buying the ties he wore - it was really the only feature of your story you wanted to have been true.

Questions that would further jeopardise your fantasy's credibility were impossible to ask. Was a girlfriend (actually maybe wife) present in his life? Did his mother buy his ties? Had his father forced him into the business? Was he trying to quit smoking and had he ever been in a band in high school? No, no. Impossible and improper. Actually, fuck improper - it was straight-up rude and the most insolent thing you could do when he was literally wasting his time driving you to school in his very expensive car. Noticing your inward panic as it had obviously written itself on your features, the male glanced at you and stiffly questioned your lateness as to offer a distraction.

You spent a minute ranting about your alarm clock and disappointment when he stopped in front of the school building and looked at you expectantly. You thanked him once more, this time very quietly and with a downcast gaze. You asked him why he'd been taking the bus when he had a car and he clicked his tongue, promptly pointing out you were being impudent prior to snorting in amusement at your shamefaced expression and quickly explaining a friend had borrowed his car for awhile and then crashed it, making him wait an additional two weeks for it to be repaired. You turned to him in surprise and he shooed you off once noticing the hint of a smile at the corner of your mouth. You got out of the car but had a hard time closing the door. You had to say something that wasn't a 'thank you' or a stupid question.

"You have a nice name," you stated with a smile, too fazed to realise the filter between your brain and mouth had disconnected and you were in the process of embarrassing yourself major time. "It suits your voice way better."

"Than what?" A single quirked brow and the non-scary frown was gone. His stoic gaze spoke of mild confusion you happily cleared out with your next words.

"The one I gave you." His brows twitched, in amusement or discomfort you didn't know, and then you became aware of the things you were saying. Your eyes widened in horror and you slammed the car door shut when you saw his lips part. Not waiting for the branch manager to call you mental, you ran for the school building faster than you'd run for the bus less than an hour earlier. Levi Ackerman, you were sure, would never drive past your bus stop again. Even more, he'd probably try to avoid it at all cost. Or so you thought for the remainder of the school day before you walked out only to see a very familiar expensive car outside.

"I get off earlier on Fridays. Now I'd like to learn about the name you've given me." It was what he greeted you with, as all passing students stared at your fidgety figure next to the slick surface of the car he was leaning on. You cracked an awkward smile whilst trying to excuse yourself but when he offered you a ride and a free cup of coffee your lips pursed in great emotional pain as your dry throat called for the caffeine and your heart called for the sound of the ebony-haired male's voice. You agreed after a whole two minutes of thought, getting in the front seat under the multiplying gazes of curious peers and bystanders. This was last thing in the world you were supposed to be doing. Or was it?

You liked Levi's company and though it would take you awhile to get used to the fact he was way different a person than what you'd imagined, there was nothing wrong in just talking to him - right? Yes, he might've been rich and not exactly your age, and you admitted you knew zero facts about his personality but he didn't look like somebody who always had an ulterior motive at the ready whenever he drove school girls to class so they wouldn't be late. So you ignored the stares and you ushered him to drive, sensing as your whole face had started heating up due to the excessive amount of attention.

You found the bravery to question your intented destination, to which the branch manager snorted prior to stating he'd be dropping you off at the bus stop. No romantic detours such as you might've imagined. His crude words made your lips pout in displeasure as you opened your mouth to respond and then remembered he was the adult in the situation and you were taught to never speak back to adults. The grey-eyed male noticed your determination waver and turn into uncertainty, and he did something no adult had ever done in your life. He encouraged your argument. Telling you to defend yourself if you considered his words unjust, the ebony-haired male turned the wheel and the car followed, with your speechless self in it.

It took you thirty seconds to finally voice your retort. Then the next ten minutes you spent arguing in a half-joking, half-serious tone you could call neither friendly nor hostile. You were getting to know his opinions on certain things, some of which included the suspicious aspect of an acquaintance like yours from a third point of view and his reluctance to be dragged into any kind of public drama. In actual fact, he'd been reluctant to offer you a ride that morning, seeing as it would be deemed extremely improper. Then it came - the moment you dropped your guard and asked him how old he was since he was speaking of everything as if it would be illegal.

A weird look was thrown your way. Then a pair of thin lips uttered the vital piece of information you'd come to accept and him - hate. Twenty-six didn't sound old in perspective but became inappropriately ancient the moment it was positioned in a small car space shared with a fifteen-year-old girl. You stared at the road ahead prior to gifting his stoic profile a bright smile and a compliment stating he looked way younger. On the topic of which, as he was quickly reminded:

"What is this name you've given me now?" Levi's grey eyes shot you a brief glance, then focused back on the street signs outside. You clasped your hands together and began nervously chewing on your bottom lip, feeling like your temples would soon start sweating buckets.

"... Bernard," you admitted after a minute-long pause, making the man next to you scrunch up his nose at the car's interior. You avoided looking at the tip of it twitching because you might just start swooning. Such a stoic man didn't deserve a nose so cute.

"Too tacky for me. Who even has that kind of lame-ass name anyway? His mother must hate him." His comments were too out of character for somebody you considered a responsible adult but you weren't allowed to laugh - it would seem as if you were making fun of him. Yet you burst out laughing right then and there, cackling til your stomach hurt and he was looking at you weirdly. You wiped at the still tears at the corners of your eyes with a shit-eating grin, then explained:

"I'm not laughing at you."

"I don't really care about that - you just seem to be having an unusual amount of fun when you're stuck with somebody this boring."

"Boring?" You echoed, blinking in innocent confusion and making him click his tongue in exasperation. You spent the rest of the ride to the bus stop arguing whether he was boring or not, and then - out of nowhere, you heard yourself blurting out an invitation for a cup of tea. He locked eyes with you and felt obliged to refuse as strictly as he could. Then you were making doe-eyes at him and pleading. You promised it wouldn't take long and you'd never interact with him after that - though inwardly you longed for the opposite. He kept saying 'no' over and over again, then you were at the bus stop and he was ushering you out of the car. This had been merely a favour on his part and he didn't wish for it to become anything more.

Then you asked - in the most hopeful voice you'd heard out of your own mouth - if he would be willing to use the bus just once more on Monday. He furrowed his brows at you and said one last 'no' prior to shutting the car door and driving off. You were sulking all the way to home. Your father was fast asleep on the couch and your mother had left you a note stating she would be out with collagues because of her incoming business trip. You went in your room and just... sat, thinking. Thinking and thinking. 26 wasn't a big number. 15 was just smaller. And what about it? His body was also bigger than yours, it was normal for his age to have been too. His hands were bigger than yours and so was his experience on the topic of the world. There was nothing particularly inappropriate about that.

But then again he might've been married or dating somebody. Such weird offers out of the mouth of an underage school girl had to have been terribly repulsive. So you settled with the thought of not seeing him again, if nothing else you'd be coming across his name in magazines. Maybe it would no longer bring the image of a sixty-year-old grandpa with dyed hair and silly glasses to the surface of your mind. Maybe it would make you picture the slender fingers fixing a plain tie as their owner glared at you with a beautiful pair of grey hues and a cutely scrunched up nose. Maybe he'd be holding a suitcase in his right hand.

You made preparations for Monday anyway, because you were a fifteen-year-old that had a proclivity to be too hopeful and optimistic sometimes. Because you were taught to always be prepared, always see things in a positive light. There was nothing positive about the 'no' your question had been answered with but you went ahead hoping for the best in spite of it. You made a cup of peppermint tea and added just a little bit of honey, because such a bitter person couldn't possibly like excessive sweetness, then you headed out, humming and holding the steaming beverage in your left hand. You arrived at the bus stop around the usual time and he was standing by the sign like a mirage, stiff and taut, holding his suitcase in his right hand and eyeing the watch on the left with furrowed brows.

At first you walked closer than you usually would just to check if he was real or not. Then he looked into your eyes and you froze, enveloped by the scent of tea and suddenly so very uncharacteristically happy it was worrying. Your heart was beating fast as you handed him the cup and asked if he liked peppermint, and when he told you the process of offering somebody something went backwards you just laughed, forcing him to take the cup with a shake of his head. You didn't question his change of heart and he certainly wasn't one to address it of his own accord, which you were perfectly fine with. You spoke of the weather and his work, and he nonchalantly shared as little as he could whilst satisfying your curiosity as best as possible.

They were all trivial topics that would under no circumstances hint at the imminent relationship that was to form. Who of the two was to think you'd be, in only three years, sitting on the couch in his apartment, arguing about your relationship prior to kissing like the world was coming to an end? Neither so far. Levi would sense it later on - way later when his feelings would become more conflicted, and you'd never suspect the problematic nature of what was to come, as you'd never consider it an actual problem. That would all come in time, though. For now you were only the numbers 15 and 26 riding in a big bus that would drive him to work and you - to school.

Later you'd inquire about his work hours. Asking him if he had a girlfriend came a week after that. And then you found yourself spending minutes staring at each and every car passing your bus stop in the morning in search of his. You saw him less than a month later after his friend crashed his car for the second time that year. There would be three more, but he'd never seem all too angry about it. Riding the bus together became a shared activity for numbers 15 and 26, and by the time they became 16 and 27 the latter had already agreed to a cup of tea in a café and the former had fallen quite hopelessly in love. Your date on the hood of his repaired car would occur during a very chilly October and your first kiss would take place two months later, in the front seat in a vacant parking lot during a snowstorm.

All in all, Levi's ongoing emotional conflict made things indescribably hard for you and your adolescent optimism but it was eventually overcome. A secret relationship began on a very unmemorable date some weeks later, brought to life by your desperate wish for Levi to give you a chance and his incapability to refuse. Running from the inevitable had meant nothing to him until awhile ago but he'd begun sprinting back when he was still twenty-six and he needed some rest a year later, a little taste of what he'd been afraid of. A taste of something bad, something he wasn't meant to be doing. God, how your beautiful smile spoke of the opposite. It beckoned him closer to the fire until he burned, but it didn't hurt - there was only warmth. So he stayed, in spite of how unbeneficial he thought that was.

[occasionalincorrectquotes]

Cells at work manga masterlist

(Fun Fact did you know: Cells at Work has a 2nd season, and although there will be no more new episodes, spinoffs are constantly releasing, so you can still enjoy fresh new cell content even now!)

✓: Completed

*: ongoing

X: not officially translated as of November 2022

Cells at Work (the original) ✓

Cells at Work: Code Black ✓

Platelets at Work ✓

Cells at Work and Friends ✓

Cells at work Baby ✓

Bacteria at Work ✓

Cells Not at Work ✓

Cells at Work Lady ✓ X

White Blood Cells at Work / Cells at Work White Brigade ✓

Cells at Work Illegal * X

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Don't know what to read/start with? Recommendations and trigger warnings under the cut!

Cells at Work (The original manga): A nice series that teaches you the basics of cells, mostly immune cells but they do include some gut immunity in the 2nd season, filled with a nice balance of angst and fluff, includes a prominent ship although it isn't the main point of the series and they don't actually say out loud if they like each other romantically or anything.

TWs: Includes a lot of blood, slicing of knives/violence in general, cancer (anthropomorphized, but they do say the word a lot of course), violently biting things until they gush out blood/whatever they're made from

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cells at Work: Code Black: An angsty series, a lot of sadness in general, although it looks like a gender swap of the original, the contents are also very opposite to the original. This series takes place in a different host body. Not fluffy, bad work environments, cells suffering in general. If you love seeing little fictional people suffering or want a reason to take better care of your body, this is the series for you!

TWs: Blood, violence, actual bazookas/guns, nsfw topics like unsafe sex and others, major and minor character deaths, drug mention both beneficial and unbeneficial, attempted suicide, ACTUAL suicide, depression, cancer

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Platelets at Work: A very nice and fluffy series about the children of Cells at Work, takes place in the body of the original CaW manga, features the platelet team we all love and their master Megakaryocyte. It's a very nice slice of life series that talks about the platelets doing their best and being children, very cute 10/10.

TWs: Tbh, I'm not sure, maybe i can reread it and see, but i don't think there's anything worth a warning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cells at Work and Friends: My personal favorite, features a Killer T cell with social anxiety as it's protagonist. A great slice of life that doesn't have much about education of biology. A lot of misunderstandings, a lot of funny and relatable moments, I'm sure all of us can relate to at least 1 of the chapters.

TWs: Blood, slicing and dicing and violence, eating and dead bacteria/viruses that would usually be very gorey are censored, depression and suicide mention (from one specific character, you can avoid him if you like and still enjoy the series), sewing needles on specific chapters, mention of nsfw

Reply if you'd want me to reference which chapters have the trigger so you can avoid it while still enjoying most of it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cells at Work Baby: Much like the original, featuring 2 red blood cells as the main character instead of a white blood cell, just as educational as the original and all the characters are in a cute chibi style.

TWs: Blood, slicing, a little violence but it isn't as bad as the original, character death

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bacteria At Work: I have yet to read this fully, but i have read the first chapter, full of pretty men and talks about gut bacteria and dietary stuff.

TWs: Unknown (to me)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cells NOT At Work: More of a slice of life compared to the original, it is quite educational on the development of red blood cells. Real LGBT rep, a wide range of characters and dynamics, made me very emotional, though i haven't read the last volume.

TWs: Mention of death/character death, and maybe slicing and killing in the last volume

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cells At Work Lady: Because this manga has yet to be translated officially, i have yet to read it, but it talks about the anatomy of women, from periods to pregnancy, there is quite a lot. They also include pretty men!

TWs: NSFW mention, slicing and dicing of various things, potentially more that i am unaware of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cells At Work Illegal: Lastest CaW manga spinoff to be released as of writing, the name speaks for itself. Usage of drugs, smoking, drinking, and potentially many more. It is untranslated, so I cannot truly understand what it is about, but thats the gist of it. Also the main characters might be potentially a little gay

TWs: Drug usage, a lot of slicing and dicing and blood, NSFW (not just mention I'm pretty sure)

[gerard-ways-left-sock]

reminder that valentines day is about love. therefore, tell ur dog u love them. tell ur friends u love them. tell ur portable cd player you love them. love shouldnt always have to be romantic and the fact that most people view love as a romantic thing is very unbeneficial

i love you

[tothedarkdarkseas]

I read All Up The Seething Coast on the train a few weeks back (cried heavily after the fact, mostly unrelated) and decided to go through all your other 2doc fics. Excellent shit, really appreciate how accurately you got their characters down + as a brit I love how you write their dialogue lol. Neat stuff, love your work :] Forever changed 2doc for me I love these nasty men in a mutually unbeneficial relationship

Thank you so much! I still feel I can't properly express what messages like this mean to me. This ask in particular came at a strangely divined time-- I had just looked through a few of the "stat" tabs on AO3 for the first time in a long long while, a bit wistful, and then navigated to Tumblr and here was this ask! I really am so glad you enjoyed, and er, also sorry about some of the clunkier Brit dialogue and narration, haha. There is an ocean between our dialects and sometimes I think I was just throwing the oar in the water and seeing how far it floated. I truly still yearn to see these nasty men in their mutually unbeneficial relationship drag each other down like anchors, and I'm grateful if anyone else is finding this weird catalogue and giving it the old college try.

Thank you for reading (especially Seething Coast, which unraveled my brain in irreversible ways) and for taking the time to reach out. It means more than you know!

[felassan]

A few more snippets of interest and insight from Mark Darrah, from an older Mark Darrah on Games YouTube video where he was livestreaming playing Dragon Age: Origins some months ago -

Chat asked "What characters do you hope to see return in future stories?". Mark replied, "I don't know about characters I wanna see coming back. I know too much about DA:D to really get into that conversation."

Alistair is "super quantum".

[source]

He also talked more generally about DA:O and the franchise and things in general. These bits are collected under a cut due to length -

"I feel like it would be a little bit more plausible in DA:O if one of the factions you recruit was like 'oh you got the Treaties? Okay, great, here we go'. We could've maybe added another one who could have just come to your aid without you having to fix their problems for them. The Avvar would have been a great choice because that would have let us get the [cut] Avvar content back there a little bit. They could've just been like 'yep, we're ready, let's go' and it would have been a little half hour plot. Maybe you could even have put in a little level that was repurposed from the Korcari Wilds. Oh well, my time machine is broken"

"The problem with the crashing [in DA:O] is that it's a 32-bit game so it can only use 2 gig of memory and at the higher resolutions and settings it uses more and then it slowly leaks enough memory to crash, but there's a mod that pushes it outside of the 2 gig"

Chat asked "Is there a voice actor who is great to work with?". Mark said "Freddie Prinze Jr. was probably the best, he was very active in talking about the game and he was really good to work with. Obviously a bit more expensive than other VAs"

"The problem with the art style for DA:O is, not that it's bad, I mean there's graphical problems, it's more that it doesn't have much of a distinctive look, so it just blends into everything from the same time period. If you look at The Witcher at the same time it pretty much looks exactly the same. So DAII is trying to look like something. DA:I both looks like something like DAII but also has the graphical horsepower to look good, as opposed to DAII which looks like something but the engine is kind've letting it down"

"We've never really managed to get it so that you can hold a space [in combat] very well, DA:I is probably the one we did that the best in and even still..." "The Battle for Redcliffe encounter is so hard basically because you don't have control of the space"

"The problem with healing in DA:O is basically every single combat encounter needs to be a deadly challenge on its own because you're at full health after every single combat, so yeah, there is too much healing in this game"

"The fact that you never get to play with Skyhold is definitely a miss in DA:I, there's no denying that"

"DA:O is definitely balanced very hard"

"When Mike [Laidlaw] and I came onto the DA franchise we were working on DAII and a lot of that original stuff is a lot more like DA:I than it is like DAII for sure. But it was more ambitious than was possible in the time that was available"

Chat asked "Was there any thought on letting the player choose which sibling would survive in DAII?" Mark said "No, in DAII the intention was always that 1 mage survive"

On stat allocation in DA:I: "It's not so much about building overpowered builds, because you can certainly do that in DA:I if you engage in crafting, you can build a rogue with guard-generating daggers and basically be completely indestructible. It's more the opposite, it's more about putting things into places where they're unbeneficial. I don't know that it was the right call. I think given how opaque the crafting system was the nod to ease of use of getting rid of stat allocation, those two things don't really mesh, doesn't make a ton of sense that we have one of the most hard to understand crafting systems and no stat allocations. Should have really picked a lane on that I'd say"

[source]

(pls note that in places there is a bit of paraphrasing of the info, the best source is always the primary source with full quotes in their original context)

[the-king-and-the-servant]

(Un)lucky promo~

"Ah, seems luck is on my side today, after all!"

As the camera flickers to life, a living room can be seen with a man sitting on the couch. He smiles at you and begins speaking once more.

"Hello! My name, though worthless as it may be, is Nagito Komaeda. I'm called the Ultimate Lucky Student... but don't get too excited. My luck cycles between good and bad and is utterly unbeneficial to everyone around me. I don't blame you for refusing to associate with me because of it."

Suddenly, another boy enters the frame with a mug, then his resting expression transforms to one of shock.

"Nagi! You started without me?!"

"Ahahaha... My apologies, My Hope. It seems I forgot that you wanted to be included."

Nagito smiles sheepishly, scooting over to make room for the smaller boy, who plops down right beside him.

"I had just gotten done introducing myself. Do you want to do the same?"

"Duh!"

He laughs at the absurdity of it, Nagito wrapping an arm around him after a moment of hesitation.

"I'm Kokichi Ouma, his fiancé. Look!"

He gets closer, showing off his extravagant diamond ring.

"And I'm the Ultimate Supreme Leader, of course~. And as the Ultimate Supreme Leader, it's within my rights to demand a promo, yeah? Pwetty pwease?"

(( Feel free to ignore, interact if not tagged, or ask for your tag to be removed! MODS that play Kokichi or Kotoko on ANY blog in ANY capacity DNI!!!!!!!! ))

@human-monokuma @i-spy-with-my-lethal-eye @ultimate-rider @born-for-tragedy and anyone else!!

[aita-alternia]

Am I in the wrong for scoring a compatriot an occupation?

I (9 sweeps, Tealblooded, Feminine Identifying) have been acquainted with Marnox Vytham (8 sweeps, Goldblooded, Masculine Identifying) for a long span of time. I am confident in saying his name as there is no real sense of privacy on Grubblr, or even Alternia, no matter how much everyone would like to pretend. Also, I am confident that he is unable and will continue to be unable to see this.

Marnox had a great knack for using his psiionic abilities in an electrical form, regularly demonstrated when he would offer to charge our husktops for fun. However, he spent most of his time in his hive lamenting about how useless he felt. I presently work very closely with people who are in the technological side of the imperial fleets. Such detailing would be unbeneficial to this topic. I talked to my employers about his great capabilities, and he has since been recruited into the fleets as a helmsman.

However, my other compatriots have clear quarrels with what I have done. His Kismesis, Jargon (8 sweeps, Indigoblooded, Masculine Identifying), insists that he wasn't actually feeling "useless" and was merely in an episodic depressive slump. However, since I know Marnox, I know this is not true. Another acquaintance, Milajo (7 sweeps, Oliveblooded, Ungendered Identifying), says they are appalled by my choice and called me a, and I quote, " 1MP1R14L LOV1NG S4CX OF PURRB33ST SH1T" for my action.

My alignment with the empire is solely opportunistic, and I expect everyone I know to understand this, including the empire. My stance is solely for my benefit, as opposing it would likely result in me being kicked from my workplace and culled. Marnox should now presently be powering, or being trained how to power a ship, which is very obviously a type of purpose. I fail to see how I am in the wrong in this equation, as I have merely fixed the problem I was presented with. Thank you for letting me submit my query.

Addendum: Marnox should be assigned the Royal Fleet's Drone Cargo Ship #818742919, if anyone would like to see his capabilities. He is quite adept.